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well-its-not-human-anymore · 3 years

Note

Hi! Could I get HC from the guys? 👀 How they would always react to catching the reader seeing them "badly", in addition to the fact that he usually avoids them, but with his brothers it is incredible and they feel bad because they think they do not like him. But she actually likes them and she looks at them like that because she "studies" them to draw them and she is too clumsy and shy to talk to them, that's why she ends up avoiding them. Until finally he catches her drawing them with lots of hearts or maybe they'll find her notebook with lots of portraits of them.

It's kind of funny because when I study people to draw them, they think that I look at them with hatred xd maybe I should increase my glasses prescription

God, glasses are such a pain in the ass but I have to wear them. If I don't anyone within my near vicinity doesn't have a face. But why they gotta get dirty so easily???? Makes me wanna explode or something

TMNT Headcanons

The boys w/ a quiet reader who is fine with his brothers but acts cold around him and stares a lot

Michaelangelo

mikey couldn't describe his disappointment upon realizing that you didn't want to be friends with him

well, you never actually said that to him

but he was pretty sure it was the case

you'd never made an effort to be friends with him

stared at him an awful lot though, but there was always something off about your gaze when you looked at him

like you were sizing him up, scrutinizing him, like he was an opponent

it kinda worried him

to add to that, you didn't even attempt to look embarrassed when he caught you staring

you'd just stare harder

on your end it was quite the opposite

you always found the brothers fascinating and you LOVED studying their anatomy, you'd confessed this to Donnie early on and he happily indulged in your questions

and you loved how easily you got along with the boys

well, except for Mikey

but it wasn't for a lack of trying

whenever the orange sporting turtle came around your normally flamboyant personality crept back into its little corner and hid

any words of excitement that had previously been with you died in your throat

for the longest time you didn't understand it

and you hated not understanding things, so you turned to your only outlet

that's how you ended up with an entire sketchbook full of the youngest brother in vastly different styles and poses

you had a separate book for the others, none of them as detailed as this

and when you stared to analyze you'd fallen into a habit of not looking away when caught

by your logic, if you stared back hard enough he'd look away first or just assume you'd zoned out

he didn't

and on one hectic day you'd left your sketchbook open on the kitchen table in your rush to get to work

you hadn't even noticed the slip up until Leo texted you to let you know during your shift

instant panic

in truth, Mikey was the one who discovered the book upon waking up from his nap and he'd spent the next three hours analyzing every drawing

when you finally dropped in after work to grab your book the turtle was waiting for you with it in hand

he'd asked you if you hated him

you told him no and accepted your sketchbook from him

he was relieved and screaming excitedly, just in his head

"Do you maybe wanna hang out sometime?"

You sighed in relief and nodded

"If you're cool with it- you don't think I'm weird do you?"

"I mean- you are talking to a turtle..."

you lightly shoved his chest and smiled, although it faded within a second

"Oh hush, 10 o'clock tomorrow? I'll bring snacks."

he was so stunned he could only shoot you finger guns in approval

Donatello

Donnie genuinely couldn't understand your unease around him

he'd followed all the proper expectations of holding a conversation

he was polite and engaging

so why wouldn't you talk to him?

this boy has read so many social blogs to try and figure out what he was doing wrong and he just couldn't put his finger on it

you were fine with the rest of his brothers, you'd stay up for hours laughing and gaming with them

you'd even sat still long enough to listen to Leo explain some old Japanese myth that he'd read about in a book

but with him it was always a quick, cordial greetings and farewells with bland small talk in between

Donnie had picked up pretty quickly that you weren't interested in any sort of interaction with him

and he convinced himself that that was okay

but that didn't explain the staring

he'd caught you in the act several times, eyes narrowed and locked on him

especially when you were alone with him in a room or just in the lair

the poor turtle just couldn't put his finger on it

then he caught you drawing, he noticed early on that you always carried a small sketchbook on your person but he didn't think much of it

and it wasn't so much that he caught you drawing, in fact, he wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't snapped at him while he was trying to do a sudoku puzzle

"Damn it Donnie! Stop moving! If I fuck this arm up one more time I'm gonna decompose!"

he'd quickly moved back into the position he was in prior

"sorry?"

but you'd gone silent again, occasionally glancing up from your work and running your eyes along his frame before looking down again

nearly twenty minutes later Donnie had finished the puzzle and it seemed as though you had finished your drawing

"Uh- can I ask what are you-"

"I'm drawing you but you kept moving your arm and making me mess up. You always do that when I draw you so every damn picture I have of you stays a sketch because you always come out looking like a fucking octopus."

He just stared

"Sorry, I uh- I didn't mean to explode on you like that. I'm just- I'm really bad at talking to you okay? It's so easy with everyone else but you've just gotta be so damn smart all the time and I worry that you'll think I'm boring so I just... don't talk to you?"

Donnie is stunned™

You refuse to show him the drawing until you can complete the line art and color it

But at least he knows that you don't hate him

Leonardo

To be completely honest Leo didn't mind that you were distant from him

You created an aura of calm when you were around and you always managed to distract his brothers while you were present

And he enjoyed the alone time

But after a few months that calm acceptance turned into jealousy

Not that he would ever admit it

He would just push it off and ignore it, that usually seemed to work

So why wasn't it?

And your obvious staring problem didn't help at all

Leo didn't spend much time considering his appearance but something about your gaze made him self conscious

And he hated that with a passion

Why was it that you could hold entire debates with his siblings? Even his dad for gods sake. You'd have hour long conversations on almost everything but whenever he tried to say hello you'd make up some lame ass excuse and scamper away

He just wanted an explanation

It appeared that the answer resided in your sketchbook

You'd left it open on the couch when Raph had called you away to spar with him

Leo very delicately flipped through the pages, careful not to disturb some of the polaroid pictures of his brothers

He was admittedly surprised to find pictures of himself among the pages

One of him in a handstand, another of him meditating, there was even one of him mid sneeze that you'd recreated with pencil and paper

The image of his eyes was the most startling, but the book held no polaroid of his eyes

You drew them from memory

And he was shocked when you returned to the room and didn't immediately panic

But that might have been because he didn't try to withhold your book from you

"It took me three months to color them, your eyes. I could never get the shade of blue just right."

"I'm gonna be honest with you y/n, I really thought you didn't like me."

You had the nerve to roll your eyes and follow it with a laugh

"I don't. I mean- I do but no, you just remind me a lot of myself and I haven't exactly figured out why yet. I thought that maybe if I drew you it'd be easier to figure you out..."

"Well did it help?"

You grinned

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

Raphael

If there was one thing Raph hated it was not understanding something that was right in front of him

which is ironic, as a much younger version of himself probably couldn't care less

and a part of him wishes he didn't care about it so much

he wishes that your blatant avoidance of him didn't upset him

but shit, it got under his skin better than any needle ever could

was it too much to ask for you to just tell him what he said or did wrong?

was he asking too much of you?

but on the same scale you'd never shown obvious dislike towards him, you were never rude and you sure as hell didn't talk shit about him to his brothers

you got along great with them

in fact it was getting more difficult to remember a time before you became a part of his family

he'd become so used to your presence that it no longer put him off when he found you hanging around the lair

but in another sense he was certain that you hadn't spoken more than three sentences to him in your time knowing him or his family

so what was the reason

several months in he finally caught onto the staring, your narrow, glassy gaze locked onto his body and refusing to look away

he stared right back at you

this annoyed you for several reasons

because within five seconds your very peaceful drawing session had turned into a staring contest and your eyes were getting VERY dry

then you exhaled in a half-sigh and looked back down at your paper

"Huh, I guess your head is more of an oblong shape..."

he took offense to this

"What tha' hell is that supposed t'mean?"

now your eyes held more of an amused silent judgement, you begrudgingly held up your sketchbook

"I'm drawing you, you fucking walnut."

"Oh..."

now you rolled you eyes and tossed the book to him, he nearly dropped it and fumbled with the pages

your annoyance was quickly growing

"Careful with that."

He flipped through the pages at a snails pace, assumingly because he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing

you had some real talent

when he looked back up at you he was wearing that crooked smile

"and here I was thinkin' that my eyes were just green."

Hope I was able to get this down pretty well! I really enjoyed writing this one! Thanks for the patience!

-Mars 🌠

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt headcanons #tmnt x reader #writing blog #writing requests #askbox #ask response #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo

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trashforhockeyguys · 3 years

Text

Don’t Hold Me -19- Carter Hart

A/N: as always, all previous parts are linked in my master list. Also, umm don’t hate me for what happens at the very end. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE at the end as well, so if that could potently be triggering for you please be warned.

There was a moment, right when you first opened your eyes that you could’ve sworn you were a teenager again. You could hear Travis arguing with Ethan just feet from you, with the sound of someone playing NHL in the background. You felt so warm due to a blanket that someone had to have tossed over you at some point during the night. You wondered if you would see your house when you opened your eyes.

But there was an arm wrapped around you. So you couldn’t be at home. You were in Travis’s apartment. Ethan came in to help you and Kora move all of your things into a storage unit for the summer. He was going to stay for part of the playoffs. Carter was sleeping next to you. You’d both fallen asleep during a movie.

You wiggled out from under Carter’s arm, following the sound of the voices to the kitchen. Kora, who still looked half asleep, was tucked under Ethan’s arm. Nolan was playing NHL in the living room, yelling at one of the other Flyers through a headset. In your gut, you knew this was what a normal morning with them. This is what life should be like.

“Y/N! Tell him that he’s wrong!” Travis begged, pointing to Ethan.

You shook your head, still too tired to even start to get into their mess, “Please tell me someone made coffee?”

Kora stepped away from E, “I’ll pour you a cup.”

“Carter still knocked out?” Ethan asked as you sat down on one of the bar stools.

“Yeah, you two arguing woke me up,” You responded slowly, “What were you two arguing over anyway?”

“Don’t ask,” Kora handed you a cup of coffee, “They’re being guys.”

“They’re arguing over who had more points when they played together,” Nolan announced from the couch.

“Oh, that’s easy, it was Ethan,” You shrugged, “Travis had the most penalty minutes.”

Kora had to hold back a laugh at the face that Travis made. Truth was, although Travis was an incredible player, even then, he was still very scrappy. He made a lot of bad plays and often let his head get the better of him. Ethan was always more level headed, and was responsible for more than his fair share of assists. But when the two of them were on the ice together, nothing was going to stop them. You missed watching them together like that.

“Someone had to do all the dirty work,” Travis explained, “But I don’t get that many penalties now.”

Kora reached over and messed up his hair, “No, you behave now. Like a good little feisty Canadian.”

“Careful, he bites when provoked,” Carter joked, finally seeming to have woken up.

“Better watch it, we have practice in a couple of hours, I won’t take it easy on you,” Travis warned.

“Okay Teeks, sure,” Carter kissed the top of your head, “Morning babe.”

You felt your cheeks heat up a little as you tilted your head to look up at him. This was something you could really get used to, all of you being together like this. You and Kora had to move out of the dorm, since the year was finally over. So Travis was letting her and Ethan crash at his place, while you stayed with Carter. Although, last night all of you ended up over here to watch movies and eat pizza. Nolan casually reminded everyone that pizza was not a part of the approved playoff diet.

“Sleep okay?” Carter asked you, taking a sip of your coffee.

You nodded and leaned back into him, “Out like a light.”

Carter wrapped his arms around you, dropping his head so his chin rested on your shoulder. His hair tickled your cheek, causing you to smile. Across from you, both Ethan and Travis were watching you with the same sort of fond smile.

Kora looked between the two other men, “Just say it, they’re cute,” She huffed, “Nolan, you wanna play me?”

“I’d like to see what you’re made of,” Nolan replied, holding up an extra controller.

The following night, you, Kora, and Ethan file into the arena, ready for the next game in the series. Carter was starting in net tonight, and Travis literally wouldn’t stop bouncing all day long. You made a joke that someone needed to take out his batteries. Kora held onto Ethan, smiling as random Flyers fans high fived each other for wearing jerseys.

“Now this is a good way to celebrate another year of hell being over,” Kora joked, “We’re all drinking tonight, right?”

“You two can have all you’d like,” E told us, “I’ll be semi sober so I can take care of both of you.”

Kora looked up at him in a way that you could only describe as love. It was weird, seeing your best friend and your brother like that. Yet, it made you happy at the same time. You liked the idea of them being happy together, come what may.

“We should get to our seats,” You told them, “Drinks later.”

“I’m going to be the only one getting drunk tonight, aren’t I?” Kora questioned.

Both you and Ethan laughed, knowing you weren’t going to have more than a drink, maybe two. The only time you ever really got drunk was with Kora, but you wanted to be sober for this. You wanted to watch every second as the game unfolded. You wanted to be able to run to Carter and hold him after the game was over, because who knew how many more times you could do that.

Kora leaned over to you once you were all in your seats, “You have that look again, are you okay?”

You forced a smile and tried to push away the sudden sickening feeling you had in your stomach, “yeah, I’m fine.”

But you couldn’t shake the sudden feeling that you shouldn’t have come tonight. That you should’ve watched from Carter’s apartment. But you hadn’t missed a home game almost all season, and you certainly weren’t going to miss a playoff game.

Yet, every ounce of you was screaming to run, to get away while you still could. But you knew you were safe, Zachary wouldn’t dare come near you while Ethan was here. He wouldn’t really do anything in the arena, where all of the security knew you by now. You were safe here.

You tugged on the sleeves of your jersey, pulling them down so they covered your hands. You couldn’t help the little shiver that went through you. So instead, you pulled out your phone and looked at the last text Carter sent you, vowing to win since everyone was here. Your eyes seemed to stay glued to the part where he said he loved you and he loved knowing that you were wearing his jersey.

Although he laughed about it at first, somehow knowing that the jersey on your back was actually his old one, and not just one you got from the team store, made him feel different. Like you were really shouting to everyone that you were his, and he was yours. He often chirped some of the other guys about their relationships, but that all stopped when he realized how much he loved you.

Because the truth of it was, Carter could see a whole life with you. An entire future that was so bright and full of love and happiness. He hadn’t told you that yet, mainly because he didn’t want to scare you. But he wanted everything with you. He wanted a ring on your finger, you walking down an aisle all in white, maybe a couple of kids in a house outside the city one day. But for now...for now he was just happy knowing you had on his jersey while you watched him play.

You hold tightly onto Kora’s hand as the clock ticks down. Carter was so close to a shutout. How often could you say that your boyfriend got a shutout during the Stanley Cup playoffs? You were so sure that your heart would beat right out of your chest. Even E seemed to literally be on the edge of his seat.

Sure they were still a few games off from winning the series, but this would really tip the scales in their favor. For the first time you actually let yourself think about it. About what it would mean for Travis, Nolan, and for Carter. You could almost picture them hoisting the cup. Could almost see yourself on the ice with everyone, laughing as Travis attacked you. You could almost see all of it. You could almost see all of the things you hadn’t allowed yourself to want.

The arena erupted, fans were yelling so loudly you swore your ears were going to be rining for days. You’d even lost your own voice sometime during the second period. You spent the whole game engaging with everyone in the arena. You hadn’t experienced energy like that in years. You were almost willing to bet that you felt the same level of adrenaline as the team did. Honestly, you’d probably be just as amped up as Carter when you got home.

“He did it,” Ethan marveled over the roar of the arena, “He fucking did it.”

Kora nearly jumped on your shoulders, “My best friend is dating a goal god!”

You were in a state of shock right up until the time you saw Carter after the game. Then it was like everything kicked into high gear and you ran to him, you even jumped so he had to catch you. A couple other members of the team whistled jokingly as you kissed him.

“You did so good.”

Maybe it was the bit of alcohol in your system, or the adrenaline from the game. But you seemed to forget every little problem you had. You forgot about Zachary, and the impossible decision that lurked there. Or the fact that you still had to pick who you were going to spend the summer with, if anyone. You forgot about all of it. All you wanted to do was be with all of them.

“Damn you look good tonight,” Carter joked, tugging on his jersey.

“We should go out. All of us,” You told Carter excitedly, “Like go get drinks or something.”

“You want to go out?” Carter asked, surprised that you were the one to even bring it up.

“I feel like dancing and having fun. Finals are over, you just fucking owned the net. C’mon, please?”

“Hartsy take the girl out,” Kevin Hayes chirped.

Carter smiled and kissed you again, “Well, let’s go out then.”

So that's what you did. All of you filed into some club that Travis knew about. You weren’t really dressed for it, although you did have a nice top on under the jersey, but you didn’t care. Not as the music seemed to fill your soul as you held onto Carter. He laughed and danced with you, both of you seeming to forget everything.

Ethan watched as you let go. He and Travis just looked at each other and smiled. Neither of them had seen this side of you since you were in high school, before Zachary broke so much of you. Ethan felt himself relax the more you seemed to smile and come alive. Kora soon pulled Ethan and Travis both onto the dance floor, insisting that all of you be together.

Hours later, so late in fact that you were pretty sure it was morning, you and Carter were slowly making your way towards his building. Ethan, Kora, and Travis all split off a while ago so they could go back to Travis’ place. You were still so giddy, happily talking off Carter’s ear.

He felt a sort of warmth in his chest. This was the person Trvais and Nolan talked about. He was finally able to see the you that Travis told him about for years, the you that was free. He wished he could’ve met her sooner.

“I want to go back with you,” You told him suddenly.

“Huh?” he wasn’t entirely sure how you’d gone from talking about wanting a breakfast beagle from the diner off campus, that certainly wasn’t open this time of the morning, to wanting to go somewhere else with him. His brain was hazy, both from the alcohol and everything else that happened.

“To Canada, if the offer still stands?”

You stopped walking and turned to face him. When you really stopped to think about it earlier in the night you realized that there wasn’t any other place you wanted to be. You’d be safe with him in Canada, you would finally be able to fully love him there. Nothing would stand in your way. It would just be you and Carter. Everything would be okay.

“God I love you,” He whispered before leaning down to kiss you, “Of course the offer still stands.”

“Good,” You pulled at his neck so he would kiss you again.

You really didn’t care that you were in the middle of a dark sidewalk in the middle of the night. You couldn’t even pay attention to the cold that was slowly working its way into your bones. Because all you could think about was his lips on yours, and the summer that now awaited you. All you wanted was that. You just wanted him.

“Now Doll, this isn’t part of the game,” You couldn’t pull away from Carter fast enough to find the source of the voice. But you already knew. You wanted to warn Carter to run, to get away. But there was a loud sound that made your ears ring again, but in a different way from the arena. And then...there was just nothing.

#Carter hart #carter hart imagine #Carter hart imagines #Carter hart fanfic #Carter hart fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction #Philly flyers imagine #Philly flyers imagines #flyers imagines #flyers imagine #nicolewritesthings

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jadelynlace · 3 years

Text

The First Time Part I / Ink Drinker Modern Vikings AU Request [Ivar x F!Reader]

request by: @quantumlocked310 and you can find the ask here (request are open! and for more things than just Ink Drinker!)

✎ full series post is here.

author’s note: after the angst that was chapter five, we’ll take a journey on the way-back-machine to the very first time. and yes, there will be another part to this. just about 3200 words (I’m sorry).

content warning: smut, mostly [oral m&f receiving, protected sex], and Ivar being a smart mouth.

synopsis: you can finally both look, and touch.

✎

His eyes spent the greater part of the evening lingering on you; cerulean orbs tracing the hem of your clothes, and he couldn’t figure out why. There was a bite on your tongue that met back with his and by your third drink he could have sworn the eyes you were giving him belonged only in the bedroom. Maybe it was the cold bitter of the sour brew he had downed, maybe it was how the girl he was interested in suddenly stepped away when he asked her what they were. “It was fun while it lasted, but I’m not looking for anything like that, with you, Ivar.” And he hasn’t heard from her since, and he knew he wouldn’t.

“Thank you for driving me home,” You say suddenly, drowning out the low music in the cabin of his mustang. “I’m really not drunk but I’m not going to argue with Mother Hen—I mean Hvitserk,” and Ivar only chuckles at that.

“Not a problem,” He says back and his voice is flat now, drowned with a hidden emotion that is foreign to his speech.

“Do you want to come up?” You ask and his eyes flash to yours. Their first glance is nearly annoyed but they soften the moment they connect to yours before your own orbs scurry away. Ivar looks sad and in his best ability to try to hide it he was showing it even more so.

“You know that’s not a good idea, princess,”

“I’m not your fucking princess,” You snip back and feel a wave of shame cross you. An unspoken boundary already breeched too far and you’re embarrassed with the sudden rejection. “Just—let me know when you make it home, alright? And when you have that design all done,” You mumble and he nods. “Drive safely.” And the door slamming echos through a quiet parking lot.

The elevator ride to your flat is lonely, locked in the metal box and you can’t stop how your mind wants to pick apart your actions. How you already have a plan formulating for the next time you see Ivar, and how you’re probably done with the outings because his mouth was two sizes too big. And then you think he’ll tell Hvitserk that you tried to invite him up—not even under the false tense that you’d spread your legs for him, even if you would. He was veiled in a sadness and the man just looked like he could use a hug. You put the television on to drown out the silence as you went about washing up, letting hair down and pulling on sleep clothes. Through the pour of another glass of wine you heard a knock.

Ivar drove around the block twice. Another right hand turn at the traffic light and pulled back into the same spot and sat there for five minutes. Turning the idea over in his head and he felt like a waste of space for declining your invite, teasing you even though you could take it. He wondered if it was the first and last one. You looked too damn beautiful for the bullshit you endured with his brothers and he wondered why you even decided to put up with the five of them. But instead he took the steps two at a time and was outside your door before his mind had a chance to catch up to what he was doing.

“I’m sorry I called you princess,” are the first words that drip from his tongue when you peel the door back. Weight against the frame and his coat is off now in the warm evening air, biceps colored with designs meeting your vision and you only offer him a small smile. But you don’t miss how the softness takes to his face when he sees you in such a raw, makeup-let appearance.

“I accept your apology, Ragnarsson,” You say back. “Why isn’t it a good idea?”

“What?”

“You said it’s not a good idea that I invited you up—why?” You ask and Ivar offers you a shrug.

“Figured it was the alcohol talking—I’m not exactly…”

“Not exactly what?”

“Someone you’d seem interested in hanging out with if there wasn’t one of my brothers in tow….” Ivar finally admits and he casts a gaze down on the hallway’s floor.

“Actually Ivar, to be perfectly blunt, I’m kind of fucking sick of them all. And you are someone I would hang out with. But, if you don’t want to that’s fine.” You say.

“No—no it’s not that—actually, you know what. You’re right,” Ivar finally says and walks into the threshold.

“I have wine, and I think there’s vodka left—I haven’t gotten anymore whiskey.” You say as he pulls his boots off, seating them parallel by the door.

“Vodka’s fine,”

“Straight?”

“I am, yeah.” Ivar quips back and you press your forehead against the fridge’s door.

“I see your smart ass mouth doesn’t stop when you’re by yourself,” You grumble back. “Want to pick a movie?” Just as the words leave your mouth there’s an obnoxious ring from your pager and you all but take the damn device and throw it into the far wall. “I swear to fucking God if Hvitserk caught his apartment on fire trying to deep fry a fucking candy bar I’m going to run him over with the ladder truck.” You grumble to yourself and Ivar can’t stop the smirk that comes to his lips as he walks through the living room. But the call isn't for you.

“Maybe one day he’ll tell you about the time he tried to put a Hershey bar through a juicer, to make drinkable chocolate. Verses you know—melting it in the microwave,” Ivar says as he flops against your couch. “Clearly his brightest moment.”

“He was making dinner for the station and we got an echo right as his oil heated to temperature and he almost started crying because he had to turn it off. Echo means we need to be there in the next five seconds, basically.” You say back and you find your seat on the other section of the sofa, handing the bottle to Ivar and the first glass you could grab. “How was your day, Ivar?”

“My day?” He asks, unscrewing the cap, unprepared to even be asked that. “My day was…..fine. I did a walk in on a sorority girl and they played truth or dare while I tattooed her.” Ivar adds and he chuckles slightly.

“I haven’t played that game since I was in high school,” You laugh, snatching the remote.

“Truth, or dare Y/N?”

“Oh fuck off what are you—twelve?”

“On a scale of one to ten, yes.” Ivar says back and there’s a bastard smirk on his face as he takes the first shot back without a grimace. You take the cup from his hand and pour your own shot and toss it back.

“Truth,” You say back and Ivar only smacks his lips together. They push forwards as he thinks, turning thoughts over in his head and his mind still comes up blank. There’s too much he wants to ask about you and in the mess of trying to decipher his mind goes silent.

“When we were all at the dinner, for my father’s company and you came with Hvitserk—remember he left for a structure fire?”

“I remember,”

“And I asked if you weren’t into the million dollar crap, so we left and went to that little diner in town?”

“I still remember, Ivar, I was there,” You sing.

“Why did you agree to go with me?” Ivar asks back and takes the bottle. His mouth goes around it and he tosses a shot back and your eyes catch his lips as they move.

“Because the dinner was quite boring and Hvitserk left so I didn’t feel invited and I wanted to leave. And that diner has damn good pancakes.”

“Fuck they do.” He moans back and you clench your thighs without even realizing it.

“Truth or dare, Ivar?” You say and he takes the hair tie from his locks as he tosses them to spin about.

“Truth,” He challenges back.

“Do you really have a bachelor’s degree in calculus?”

“Who told you that?” He rumbles suddenly and his eyes level with yours.

“Hvitserk did—was he not suppose to?” You peep back startled but then Ivar relaxes.

“I just don’t like people knowing that,” He mumbles and tosses the bottle back. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,”

“Is being a paramedic the only thing you’ve done?”

“I wan an EMT first and then a paramedic, but yes it’s the only thing I’ve done.” You reply and Ivar hands you the bottle back like you’ve earned it for answering his question. This shot burns a bit more and your watching the man before you relax back along your sofa. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,”

“You are no fun,” You groan.

“What are you going to dare me to do?” Ivar laughs and you bite the bottom of your lip as you look at him. Me, you dumb ass. Ivar watches you as you do, eyes flicking over him and you hand him the bottle.

“Is Sigurd fun to work with.”

“Fucking no.” Ivar groans quickly. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,”

“How…how drunk are you?” Ivar asks suddenly.

“Not drunk at all, why?”

“Just checking,”

“Truth or dare?” You hum.

“Dare,” and your eyes flicked up to his.

“If I dared you to fuck me, would you?” You ask him and Ivar sucks in a breath as his pupils widen and he nods slowly.

“In a fucking heart beat,” He moans and you set the bottle on the coffee table haphazardly. You’re across the couch then and over his lap and his eyes are stuck on yours but he’s still frozen under you.

“I’m not made of glass, Ragnarsson,” You say softly and that propels him, his hands grabbing your cheeks to pull you closer. The first kiss is rushed, heated and mixed with a tangle of teeth and tongue and too many hours of just looking at one another without the ability to touch. When you pull back suddenly Ivar freezes, thinking you’re having a second opinion on the situation but he watches you pull the top from your body and you’re suddenly standing bare chested before him. He follows suit only seconds later, standing and tearing his top and your mouth opens. There’s no spot on his torso that isn’t covered and your eyes scan the artwork as you feel the flutter in your abdomen take notice. “Oh my god, Ivar,” You say softly and your nails trace along what you see first. Ivar hums in response as his body looms closer to yours, and you’re turning, walking to your room and Ivar is on your heels.

Your back meets the bed before Ivar is crawls over you, swarming you against the sheets as you move back. Large body on display and your fingers don’t know where they want to start. When his lips dip into your jaw line, suckling on the skin over your pulse point you moan, a noise that jabs Ivar right in his crotch and he needs to hear it again.

“I won’t put any where they’re be seen over your uniform,” Ivar whispers and his lips dip lower, tracing along your collar bone before there’s a squeeze to your chest from his hand and you moan twice as loudly. You can feel him smirk as he journeys, stopping right at your shorts. You only pull away slightly to wiggle to where your top drawer is, tossing the foil packet at him and he gives you a glare. “Really?” He asks as he holds the packet in his fingers.

“Yes.” You say back. “I don’t know where your dick has been.”

“I”m clean,” He snarls back.

“You don’t have to get laid, Ivar,” You sass.

“No, I don’t,” He grumbles back.

“But you want to….” You sing.

“Uh—yeah I do. Have you seen yourself lately?”

“Then put on the fucking condom, Ivar. Don’t be a dick. Do you need me to do it for you?” You ask in a fake whine.

“Yes, I do,” Ivar challenges back and you’re moving, slipping off the bed and sinking to your knees in front of him, sight alone causing his heart to quicken with a twitch of his cock under the fabric. Pulling the band of his boxers down, his length comes free and you have to bite back your own moans at the sight of him. With the size of that man you’re not shocked with how much he packs and your chest heaves when his cock comes to your face. Flattening your tongue, to take to dragging it from his base to his tip, a throaty groan leaving his mouth as you work. You feel his hand card in through your hair as your tongue spreads over the under side of him; the veins, the ridges, and all of the skin making themselves known against your tastebuds as he moans your name. Finally pulling away, you roll the rubber over him and scurry back up along the sheets.

Ivar wastes no time to climb over your, giant towering of a man between your bent knees as he pulls them apart. Too many agonizing seconds before he finally slips your panties off, another low noise of arousal from him at the mere sight of you. Laying bare and glistening before him and he grows excited as he sees the glimmer of your arousal from him between your slit. With your legs spread, Ivar presses his chest where they’re split as you feel him drag his tongue through your folds. The sight of him between your thighs was far worth all of the back talk, all of the petty bickering and mutual death threats in the the world. Ivar lets out a hum as your nectar spreads over his lips, moistening his tongue while his fingers dig farther in your thighs.

“So sweet baby…” He moans before he lets saliva dribble from his mouth as a string lands against your slit, pushing it back through as his lips went to roaming. Your nails sneak into his hair, pulling it like reins as your spine arches.

“You’re…you’re really good at this,” You whisper, body flushed and far too warm as you feel the pleasure creep up through your skin. Ivar only hums in agreement, bastardly tone still as his tongue swirls your clit. He pulls back suddenly, crawling back up over you because he simply can’t wait any longer. His mouth is skilled, still hot and tangling with yours between tongues and teeth and you can taste your juices on him. His weight rests between you and you can feel him just past your opening as his mouth stops. “We don’t tell anyone,” You whisper as his forehead stays still along yours. Ivar pulls himself up then, kneeling between you with his cock in his fist.

“Promise,” Ivar says solidly, pushing his cock slowly as it melts into you. His chest heaving as he watches himself bottom out, wrapped snug in your wall as he lets out the most guttural moan your ears have heard to date. “Oh—fuck,” He rasps, head tipping forwards slightly. “You’re so much tighter than I imagined,” He growls as he plants arms on each side of you, eyes finding yours. A blushed face and mouth spread open with how he’s stretching you, pushing past any other lover you’ve laid with. Through a languid roll of his hips he moves again, moans singing between the both of you. Ivar only pulls back enough to where your hips try to chase him and catch him, but instead he snaps back inside. Reaching for him—trying to ground yourself as he drills such pleasure through your body—Ivar gladly meets you half way, covering you and grabbing the sheets by your head for leverage as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“You’re so deep,” You whimper, his forehead on yours and he can only nod as a reply, slowing his hips some as the sounds of how he moves through your folds fill the room.

“Feel so fucking good,” He rasps as his mouth catches yours, hips starting to pick up their pace as his body moves yours with the bed. “God you feel so fucking good,” And one hand starts skimming the curve of your body, trying to memorize how you feel under his touch so he has that forever engrained in him.

“Ivar—Ivar—I’m—close,” You start, knees locking against his side as your nails dig into inked shoulders. Words fail you as your release comes closer, rolling towards you like a loose freight train as Ivar’s noises match yours, thrusting hard, deep presses inside of you and your body is curling against his.

“Me too baby—come all over me,” He grunts, his mouth by your ear as he deepens his thrusts. “All fucking over me,” Ivar demands and his words make you whimper as they become the single driving phrase for your orgasm to grab you. You can only nod and hold onto him as your moans rise in octaves as your walls contract around him, locking him still momentarily as he watches you finish. Tossing your head into the pillows as he slows, nails raking down his back as if they’re trying to leave lines in their wake that’ll match the tattoos. “Good girl…” Ivar purrs from above you, lips brushing the skin on your cheek before they’re slide to your mouth. You only offer him a hum in response as your body floats down, Ivar own’s end coming closer as his body presses you against the bed, his hips starting back up quickly. Skin slapping skin as Ivar crushes you against the bedding, his forehead plastering to yours before you feel him shake slightly, vibrate as a low groan grew through his chest, his own release filling the condom. His lips faltering some as the sounds float back to your mouth and you have never heard a more blissful noise. One that you already needed to hear again, dance around the walls of your room and through your body. Stilling over you with heavy breathing mixing in between, Ivar pulls up slightly, relishing in your new found freedom but immediately missing the weight over you, nearly grinding your bones. You watch him rise and look down at you with blue irises moving through yours.

“You alright?” He asks softly.

“Don’t go all soft on me now, Ivar,” You tease with a curl of your lips and you’re quite frankly shocked that that he even cared to ask. He rolled his eyes before leaning back, lips against yours once.

“I usually go soft after I come, princess,” Ivar teases, finally pulling himself from inside of you, rolling the used condom off with a tissue and tossing it. You take to finding your clothes, moving yourself solely in the motions to distract your wandering mind and leave it at the door. Climbing back under your bedding, you hear Ivar move, pulling his own boxers on and you wonder how he’s going to leave it. Instead you feel the bed dip, arms latching around you and pulling you closer. “Is this alright?” Ivar whispers as he settles with you.

“Yes,” You peep softly. “I didn’t think you snuggled,” and Ivar only clicks his tongue at that.

“I can leave, if you like!” He says back.

“No—please don’t,” You reply quickly, melting back against him and he smiles.

“Smart choice,” Ivar says as you reach to turn the light off, the sound of the ceiling fan taking over the room and he crushes you closer. “I didn’t want to leave anyways.”

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a-is-for-abel · 3 years

Text

"“I’m moving.” He froze, glancing up at his friend. The other boy’s eyes were gleaming with suppressed sobs, breath hitching and jaw clenched. “Mom got a job in another state and we’re moving in a month.”

Inspired by this prompt by @givethispromptatry

Sand and shells crunched under the belly of the kayak as it ran aground. With a wobble and a curse he tumbled into the water, paddle floating away from him and kayak shooting off in the opposite direction.

"Fuck."

He scrambled to collect both, tossing the paddle up onto the beach and grabbing the handle at the bow of the kayak to tow it onto shore.

"You're late."

He rolled his eyes and glanced over his shoulder to see Warren in all his cut-offs and sandals glory. "And you're early."

Warren crossed his arms. "I'm literally the most on time, dude."

"Whatever, just-- Help me grab the stuff."

He popped open the watertight chamber in front of the seat and reached into the belly of the kayak, all while Warren struggled to pull the backpack out from under the cage of bungee cords at the front.

"Just unhook them, dude," he said, his cellphone and two unopened cream sodas finally in hand.

"Don't tell me how to do it."

"It's not going to--"

"Shit!" Warren yelped, recoiling and clutching his hand.

"Told you."

Warren flicked him off, but turned to do what he said anyway.

"Come on, suns gonna start setting soon." He grabbed his backpack from Warren and stuffed the drinks and his phone inside.

"What? Afraid of some gators?"

"No," he said. "Rather a gator than my dad."

Warren grimaced. "He still got you on that curfew?"

"Yup."

He picked his way through the mangrove thicket that cut the beach off from the rest of the spoil island. The roots of the black mangroves jutted up like fingers through the sand and the stilts of the red mangroves tried their best to snag his feet as he ducked under the sprawling web of an orb weaver hidden in their midst. Thankfully, it cleared out past the initial wall of foliage, becoming more barren with only the occasional thicket.

He remembered when his dad had led them through here the first time and explained that the mangroves kept the spoil islands standing. That when hurricanes and storms threatened to wash them away, their roots would act like a little army, keeping off any barrage and harboring whatever took up shelter under them.

He frowned. His dad and him hadn't come out here since--

"Fuck, fuck, fu--" Warren sputtered behind him, high-pitched.

"Web?" he asked, glancing back to see Warren flinching away from a tree.

"Yeah, fuck--" Warren brushed his arms off frantically and patted at his hair. "Fucking spiders all over the fucking place, man. They call it Mosquito Lagoon, but it really should be spider god damn la-- Fuck!"

"Nice one, ‘spider god damn la-fuck’ really has a special sort of ring to it."

Warren shot him a glare and dusted off his shoulders and the front of his shirt with quick flicks. "You owe me for psychological damages..."

"Come on, we used to come out here all the time."

"When I was like ten! And with your dad!" Warren cowered away from another web that sprawled from a lone tree. "And I didn't have as much free real estate for a spider to like, you know-- Crawl all over me or whatever."

"Free real estate?"

"Yeah, you know the whole--" Warren gestured vaguely. "The meme."

"God, please stop," he groaned. "That shits like, what, twenty-seventeen? That's like ancient history, man."

"It's a classic."

"Sure," he muttered. "A classic."

"Whatever, man, you're just not cultured."

He scoffed. "That's definitely it."

The other end of the island unfolded into a drop-off, all coquina and shells packed tightly together and built up into a mound that cut off abruptly into nothing. It was the highest point of the island-- of most of the spoils out here honestly-- even though it's small cliff had been eaten away and eroded over time, shrinking and shifting as the island shrank with the waves.

Dropping his backpack, he sat and dangled his legs over the edge, shoes knocking back against the coquina with a scratchy rasp. Warren plopped down beside him, keeping his legs folded and away from the plunge. Not that it was much of a sheer cliff. Only about eight feet down at the most, but enough that it felt like a lot. Compared to the average of three feet below sea level for the rest of the mainland; eight feet felt pretty fucking huge.

The tide lapped at the base of the island, the water hissing and coiling, writhing and alive where it squirmed through the holes bored through the coquina face and back out with a soft crackle. Crabs, tiny and mottled, darted in and around the rocks and he could see finger mullet, their scales flashing as they turned and twisted with the waves.

"You tied up your kayak, right?" Warren asked.

"Naw, but it should be fine. I pulled it up pretty far."

"I'm not sharing if you get stuck out here."

He frowned, shooting Warren his best puppy dog eyes. "You'd leave me out here?"

"Yes."

He chuckled. "Fair."

Seagulls drifted in lazy circles far overhead, the occasional cry working its way down to them as the birds banked with the wind, following the gusts up to where they could catch a glimpse of a meal beneath the water. One wheeled down in a sudden arc, wings folded close to its side as it plummeted, beak first, into the water with a snap and then back out with a spray.

"Man, tough luck..." Warren said. "Hate whenever they miss. Makes me feel kinda bad."

"They're just gonna go do what the rest do and steal some fries at the jetty once they realize it's easier than doing this."

"Yeah, but it's like-- I don't know, man. Just wish he'd get a win."

"You don't even know him!"

"I feel like we have a connection." Warren pointed at where the seagull had gone back to patrolling the waters. "Me and seagull number one thousand and three, we're like this--" He crossed his fingers.

"Shut up," he snorted.

They watched the seagull try again and fail.

Warren started up a running commentary after the third attempt, cupping a hand over his mouth to imitate the slight grain of a sports announcer's microphone as he dramatized the whole thing. When the seagull finally managed to snag a fish Warren cheered, arms thrown up in a touchdown motion that he copied with a grin.

"Hell yeah, dude!" Warren high-fived him.

"Where's all that enthusiasm for when you're at my games?" he asked.

"Come on, dude, you know I always cheer the loudest. You're just too far out on the field to hear me."

"I'm sure that's what it is."

"Whatever, man-- What'd you bring anyway?" Warren grabbed his backpack and began rummaging through it. "Oh shit! Gummy bears, dude! And the good kind, hell yeah!"

"Yeah, grabbed them before I came here. That's why I was late, idiot."

Warren tore open the package. "Crimes forgiven, man. This is worth it."

"Give me that--" He pulled his backpack out of Warren's lap. "I also got some soda, but I guess all you care about is your precious little bears."

"Naw, naw-- Hand that over."

"Rude much?"

"What? You want me to kiss you on the lips for it first, bro?"

He laughed. "Now, that would be the polite thing to do."

Warren puckered his lips at him and then snatched the soda. "Fuck off."

"Not even a little kiss?" he teased.

"You dragged me out to spider-fuck-nowhere, while it's ass fucking hot out and where it smells like rotting fish taint-- Just to watch the fucking sunset, when we could have sat on my roof and done the exact same thing-- You expect a kiss for that?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. Bro code."

Warren snorted. "Hand me a bottle opener, dip shit."

He popped open his own bottle and passed it over to Warren, who struggled for a moment before finally getting it with a triumphant 'whoop'. The mixture of saccharine flavored soda and the slight rotting stench of algae, and whatever else the lagoon had to offer, wasn't exactly pleasant, but it wasn't terrible. It was familiar.

It was homely in it's off kilter sort of way.

"So, why'd you bring me out here anyways?" Warren asked.

He sighed and kicked his heel back against the coquina. "I’m moving.”

Warren sucked in sharply and he glanced over at him.

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the water below his feet. "Dad got a job in another state and we’re moving in a month.”

"Dude…"

"I didn't know how to tell you. I just--"

"Is that why you decided it'd be a good idea to sneak out and go to that dumb party with me?" Warren asked, frowning.

"I figured it would be one of the last chances I had to do something fun, you know. Here. Before I just-- Leave all this shit forever. I mean, we're moving to fucking Ohio, man. Where the fuck am I gonna find a party on an island out there?"

"Right…"

"And look, fuck my dad--"

"Jake--"

"No, fuck him-- He didn't even--" he huffed. "Things were looking up, man. Varsity lacrosse in sophomore year, that's huge, dude. And I wasn't just the fucking loser kid in the back of class anymore and he just--"

"Works rough here, dude..." Warren cut him off, sighing. "Space programs taking a shit. Whole island's taking a shit, really. Plenty of people left the first time NASA tanked, remember? It's just… it happens, man."

"So, you're just fine with it then?" he asked, brows furrowing. "We're never going-- I'm never going to see you again and you're just okay with that?"

"It's not forever!" Warren said, throwing out his hands. "There's planes, man! It's the twenty first fucking century. We got phones, dude. We'll stay in touch."

He grit his teeth and looked down.

"Jake, bro. C'mon-- Look at me."

He met Warren's eyes.

"It's gonna be okay, dude." Warren said, smile wide, and he could see the little falter at the edges, but he didn't call him on it. "Look--" Warren held up his bottle. "We'll cheers on it."

"Cheers on what?"

"To staying in touch, to meeting up in the future. To staying friends and all that, I don't know."

"To you finally getting a boyfriend?"

"Actually, you know what, I'm not going to miss you at all."

"Come on--" he grinned, nudging Warren with his shoulder. "You'll miss me."

"Yeah," Warren chuckled, looking down with a small smile. "I will..."

His fingers tightened around the glass bottle in his hand, bottom lip threatening to worry between his teeth. "Look, let's do your dumb cheers thing before it gets too sentimental or whatever."

Warren sighed, seeming to shake himself off before raising his soda bottle above his head and towards the slowly setting sun. "To us."

"To us?" He wrinkled his nose. "Isn't that kinda cheesy?"

"Just shut up and do it."

"Fine..." he grumbled with a grin, raising his bottle to clink against Warren's. "To us."

//photo credit// me and my phone c. 2020 //

#writeblr #writing community #creative writing #fiction #prompt fill #prose #writers on tumblr #short story #writing #my writing #original work #sorry for the cursing #miss the spoil islands and the lagoon #Florida

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corvus--rex · 3 years

Text

Next in this bizarre collection of abandoned, semi-abandoned, and deeply sleeping wips is one that has more direct time travel. It's more in the deeply sleeping category as I'm still picking at it. It's also another Omegaverse, so if that's not your thing, feel free to skip it. Also, both Lance and Keith practice polytheistic religions that have been altered to fit an ABO setting

~*~*~*~*~

A few years after the war, the Paladins made the newly rebuilt Castle of Lions their home. Shiro and Adam retired from the Garrison and into diplomatic careers for the Coalition. Pidge’s parents were still with the organization, but she and Matt preferred to be more hands-on, maintaining the places on the castle and with the now-former rebellion. The still close-knit team were still recovering from the recent bonding ceremony for Hunk and Shay, who were also staying aboard the castle, although it was still uncertain as to whether or not human and Balmeran genetics were compatible; they were just waiting on genetic compatibility testing. Lance and Keith, however, were ahead of the game. They had gotten engaged while on the way back to Earth, announcing it to Lance’s family on their return. Not wanting to wait, and with no way of knowing what would happen in their war with Honerva, they’d held a small bonding ceremony the night before leaving Earth for the second time.

Keith had it the worst when it came to post-Hunk/Shay bonding recovery. He wasn’t going to miss Hunk and Shay’s bonding for anything, even if it meant dealing with Lance’s fussing. It had gotten bad enough during the reception that both Krolia and Lance’s mother Mariana told him to sit down and let his pregnant mate be. Keith could understand where Lance’s caution came from. While their little one was only one quarter Galra, and developing as a human child would, Keith’s half-Galra physiology had other ideas, his body and hormones changing like a shorter Galra pregnancy. It meant that he needed to be monitored more closely than he would if the pup’s development and his body’s lined up. It also meant that they didn’t have a concrete due date, and that it was entirely possible he could deliver a premature pup. But at sixteen weeks Earth time, there were still another two months until they needed to watch for their little one’s arrival. They had stayed behind on Earth an extra couple days after Hunk and Shay’s bonding ceremony for some of Lance’s extended family who wanted to see them both before the pup was born. Keith was exhausted from the three days of parties surrounding the ceremony and the event itself, but they were headed back to the castle after that and wouldn’t be back for another eight months, and by then the pup would be at least two months old.

Nadia and Sylvio were excited about their cousin, and had to be reminded that Keith was tired from everything going on. Right then, they wanted to see the inside of the Altean pod the matepair were taking back to the castle. Keith and Mariana burst out laughing when Lance appeared with his niece and nephew each tucked under an arm.

He “dropped” the giggling, squirming pups in front of his oldest brother. “I think you lost something.”

“Who, me? I haven’t lost anything,” Luis said, feigning ignorance.

Still laughing, Nadia and Sylvio began scaling their mountain of a father. Once they got to hip height, he grabbed them both the same way Lance had been carrying them and took off running while mock screaming, making his pups shriek with laughter. Lance just laughed to himself and shook his head at his brother and niblings.

“Like you can talk. You know damn well you're going to be just the same with ours,” Keith called.

“Yeah, probably,” Lance admitted, walking over.

“‘Probably’ nothing, mijo. I know you will,” Mariana said, “Just don’t forget to call when that little one arrives. We’ll be praying for a safe delivery.”

Lance’s parents, grandparents, and aunts and uncles all practiced Santeria, and while Lance and his siblings had been raised in it and still believed, none of them actively practiced. His lack of participation didn’t lessen his appreciation of his mother’s intentions. He would have been worried when it came to telling Keith about his family’s practices if he didn’t already know about his Omega’s neo-paganism. Keith, likewise, had been relieved when Lance didn’t immediately declare him insane and instead explained about his own family.

“Thanks, Mami. So will we,” he said, hugging his mother.

“Doesn’t matter where you are in the universe, the Orisha will hear you,” she told him, then pulled Keith in, “And so will your gods, mijo.”

“I know. Thanks, Mami,” Keith answered.

The pod’s comms chirped, and Lance disentangled himself from his mate and his mother, disappearing into the small craft. Mariana wrapped an arm around Keith’s waist and he leaned into it, fully appreciating her maternal warmth. She was one of a very small number of people who had open permission to touch him. She understood that, especially after Lance had explained about Keith’s childhood in the foster care system and that he was largely touch-averse unless you were one of a select few who had earned his complete trust. She’d earned it through being the woman she was and treating Keith like one of her own children.

She reached over, resting a hand on his growing belly. “I pray for this pup every day. You two are going to be wonderful parents. And I know that you both will be safe up there – you and this little one.”

Keith breathed a laugh. “Altean technology makes humans look like we’re still playing with sticks and rocks. I mean, on an interstellar level, we kinda are. I’ve been thinking about that lately,” he admitted, “The ‘we’ part. I’m still half-Galra. Most of the time I feel like the only places on Earth I feel like I belong are out at my Dad’s place, and here.”

“Oh, mijo. It doesn’t at all matter that your wonderful mother isn’t human, or that you share her blood. What matters is what you do with it. And both of you used your heritage to do the right thing. And now she’s leading her – your – people to a new way of thinking. You both have done so much good. Never forget that. Or that you’re family. You’ll always belong here. And not just because you're carrying my grandpup.”

“We weren’t exactly planning on this.”

Mariana laughed. “Neither was I. For any of them. None of my five children were planned. We always wanted pups, but we decided to let it happen however it was going to happen. And we were blessed with five beautiful pups.” She nudged him gently. “Tell me, do you have any thoughts on what your pup might be? I knew for all of them, even when my mother was trying to tell me that I was wrong. Especially with Lance. She was convinced he was an Omega. And then he was born all Alpha.”

Keith nodded, understanding. “Yeah, that’s apparently not just a human thing. Mom said she knew I was an Omega before I was born. I think this one is too. I’m pretty sure it’s an Omega boy. Little brat keeps moving and won’t let us see, so we don’t know for certain yet, but I feel like it’s an Omega boy.”

“Oh, Veronica was the same. We didn’t know until she was an Alpha girl until she was born. And she’s still stubborn and independent.”

{What do you think, sweetheart? You an Omega boy?} she asked the unborn pup.

Her question was answered with a sharp kick.

“Is he always like that?” Mariana asked in surprise.

“Yes. Yes he is. I’ve been feeling him moving for almost two months, but it got more intense about three weeks ago. That, apparently, is a Galra thing.”

“What’s a Galra thing?” Lance asked, walking down the loading ramp.

“How hard the pup kicks,” Keith said.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “It really is that bad. I’ve woken up in the middle of the night before because of it.”

“Now imagine how I feel! Anyway, what was the comm call?”

“Oh, right. Just Allura asking when we were planning on going back up. I told her we were finishing getting the pod packed up and we’d be leaving within the hour. Varga. Whatever.”

Mariana hugged them both again. “Don’t forget. I want to know.”

Keith’s lips twisted in an amused smile. “As soon as we do,” he said.

Lance didn’t ask about it until they were settled in the pod’s cockpit and on their way to the wormhole point. “What are we telling my mother when we know it?”

“Huh? Oh, the pup’s primary and secondary sexes. I said that I feel like it’s an Omega boy, but that we haven’t been able to confirm it,” Keith explained.

“Yeah, he’s being a little brat about it,” Lance agreed, “We will find out eventually,” he added, poking the unborn pup only to be rewarded with another kick. “See? Brat.” He stood up, stretching hard enough to pop his spine. He let his arms drop and extended a hand to his mate. “Come on. Allura’s not opening a wormhole until we’re way out of system, and I want snuggles.”

When they first packed the pod to leave for Earth, Lance had shifted a few things around in the passenger compartment, making room for Keith to set up a nest. He was worried about their pup and was trying to just be a good Alpha for his Omega. Keith was particularly hormonal that day and broke down in tears when he saw the cleared space, his favorite nesting materials neatly sitting in the middle of it. Lance had been afraid he’d accidentally done something wrong until he found himself with his arms full of sobbing, pregnant Omega telling him how amazing he was through hiccupped tears. The nest was built and stayed there until they landed on Earth, where it was taken down and rebuilt in Lance’s old bedroom, right on top of his queen bed. Now it held their scents mixed with Lance’s family’s. Lance also knew about the sweater Krolia had given Keith for the express purpose of fitting it into his nest.

Keith let Lance lead them through to the rear of the pod and got settled into the nest. Leaning back against his Alpha, Keith reached into his shirt and pulled out the crystal he always wore. A clear quartz point, with a triple moon carved from rainbow moonstone woven into the silver wire wrapping the top of the crystal. He ran his fingers over the moonstone, feeling its carved lines and points, the smooth gem comforting. He was safe and comfortable in his Alpha’s arms, tucked into their temporary nest, but he still worried. He knew better than anyone that their pup could come earlier than anyone was comfortable with, especially him. He sighed, letting the quartz drop.

“What’s up?” Lance murmured sleepily into Keith’s neck.

“I’m just thinking again,” he said, the pad of his thumb following the back of his fingers in a small line on his belly.

Lance knew what he was thinking, read worrying, about, and wove their fingers together. “I know. But even worst case, even if he is three months early, he’ll be ok, and so will you. There is literally no one else like you in the entire universe, and all of this is new to everyone. Best we can do is take it one day at a time.” He grabbed the tablet from outside the nest, checking the autopilot. “We still have about an hour before we get to the wormhole point. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

Keith yawned, curling up in the nest, Lance wrapping his arms around his Omega. “Nap sounds great,” he mumbled, half-asleep already.

Lance didn’t last much longer, drifting off the second Keith’s breathing evened out in sleep.

They were woken by alarms blaring throughout the pod. Keith shot up, startled and growling. Lance went for the tablet, checking the readings from the pod’s sensors. They should still have been twenty minutes out from the meeting point, but the star map showed them being in an entirely different galaxy, the familiar Milky Way nowhere in sight. He leapt from the nest, running for the cockpit. When Keith had calmed a bit and hauled himself out of his spot and to the cockpit, Lance was at the controls.

“Get yourself strapped in,” the Alpha said without looking up, “We’re headed straight for an asteroid field and there’s no time to change course.”

Lance changed the controls to manual and the front shielding changed from opaque to transparent, showing the looming ancient debris in stunning real time. Keith sat himself in the co-pilot’s seat, fastening the 4-point harness over his chest just in time for the first asteroid to go whipping past. He wanted to take the controls, but he knew that his awkward current shape made it nearly impossible for him to fly with the deftness an asteroid field required. Lance had no such problem, weaving through the asteroid field with his usual liquid grace.

When they finally broke through and into empty space, they still had no real idea of where they were. Keith brought up the galactic map. He noted several familiar planets and systems, realizing that they were on the far side of the Andromeda galaxy. As he was relaying all of that to his mate, the pod’s comm chirped with an incoming hail. It was the castle, but something was different and they couldn’t quite put their finger on it. Lance answered the hail, Allura’s face filling the screen.

“Hey, Allura. Do you have any idea what the fuck just happened? We were on our way to the rendezvous point for the wormhole and now we’re here,” Lance asked.

Allura stared at them in complete shock. “I – I don’t understand. How are you two there? You can’t be there. You’re both here on the castle.”

Lance and Keith shared a confused look. “No. We’re not,” Keith said slowly, “We just left Earth a couple hours ago and were on our way to the spot you designated for the wormhole back to the castle.”

“Earth?! What the quiznak are you talking about?! Stay there. I’m going to tow your pod into the castle and we’ll talk about whatever prank this is.” The shock was in her voice at first, before it became almost angry. She looked back at them from her projected control screen, and then looked at them both more carefully. “Lance, how in the quiznak do you have Altean marks?”

“From you?” he answered, now totally confused. Had she forgotten reviving him after he took the full damage of an energy attack meant for her? Did she not remember that he’d ended up with sky blue Altean marks as a result of the sheer amount of quintessence she poured into him?

“That’s impossible. I can’t give you our markings. And Keith, have you gained weight?” She was still confused, but turned it to the Red Paladin.

“Not in the last three days,” he said, then glanced down and back to her, “Not that way, anyway.”

They felt the pod guided into the pod bay and land softly. “Stay there, inside the pod,” Allura said, “I’ll be right there.” The screen cut out, leaving them alone again.

“What in the absolute fuck is going on?” Keith asked.

“I wish I fucking knew,” Lance answered. “Does she really think this is some kind of over-elaborate prank? She can’t. She knows us. Knows we’re mated. Knows you’re pregnant.”

“Yeah, that was weird. Asking me if I've gained weight. I mean, I know I've put on about fifteen pounds, but that’s almost completely directly related to him. I haven’t really changed anywhere else.”

Lance sighed. “Yeah. I don’t know. We’ll figure it out. But at least we’re back. We can get your nest rebuilt in our suite and take a fucking nap.”

Something told Keith to leave his nest as it was, and he told Lance as much. They also decided not to get back into it while they waited for Allura. The matepair waited in the open seating, Keith nuzzling into Lance’s scent gland. It was something they’d come to realize was a side-effect of his pregnancy. He couldn’t get enough of his Alpha’s scent and would use any and every excuse to get close and scent himself, not that Lance minded it at all. It always stroked his Alpha’s ego that their Omega was so devoted to them.

They both looked up when there was a failed attempt to open the rear door of the pod, which was followed by a polite knock. “Hang on a tick,” Lance called. He extracted himself from his snuggly koala of a mate with a soft kiss to his temple and a gentle hand on their pup.

Allura stood in the doorway, possibly even more shocked than she was on the call. He was still in the faded blue t-shirt and grey sweats he’d been wearing all day, not having been bothered to change. He was expecting an off-hand comment about not being up to his usual standard at most, but she just stood there, staring like he was a new race they’d never met before.

“Allura?” he asked.

“Lance, what the quiznak is going on here? Where’s Keith?” she asked when she found the words.

“I was going to ask you the same thing. And Keith’s right here. The kids were all over him this morning and he’s still pretty tired.”

He didn’t think it was possible for Allura to be any more confused or her eyebrows to arch higher, but she was and they did.

“What kids? Why should he be tired?”

Keith listened to the questions being fired back and forth. Something wasn’t adding up. Allura knew they’d been with Lance’s family. She’d met Nadia and Sylvio before and knew what kind of energy they had. It shouldn’t be a surprise that he was worn out after dealing with them. Keyword shouldn’t. But she was. He decided to see her for himself, or more to the point, for her to see him. He slid out from the seating area, turning the corner to where she and Lance were asking questions without answering any. He stepped up beside Lance, sliding an arm around his Alpha’s waist, his free hand resting on his pregnant belly.

Allura’s jaw dropped. He knew she could tell that he wasn’t faking, and that she somehow either didn’t know or had forgotten that he was four months pregnant, even if he looked farther along because of his body’s reaction.

“I – how?! How did this happen?! When?! What is happening?!”

“Allura,” Lance said softly, “Has anything happened in the last two or three quintants?”

“What? No. Nothing. And you two are here onboard the castle. Keith, you said you would be in the training deck for at least a few vargas, and Lance, you were helping Hunk in the kitchen. How did you two end up out there and in a pod I didn’t know had gone missing? And don’t tell me you were on Earth. That’s utterly impossible. We can’t go back without leading the Galra directly there, you both know that. And how have you been hiding not only your apparent relationship but also – Keith, you're pregnant! How do you expect to be able to fly the Red Lion in your condition?”

The feeling of something being fundamentally off continued to tickle Keith’s brain. An impossible thought hit him. “Allura, I need you to answer this question honestly. How long have we been out here with you?”

“What do you mean? It’s only been about three phoebs, but we’ve made good progress in the war effort. I really believe we’ll win. But you already knew that.”

Lance cut her off before she could voice a suspicion about them being spies. He realized as soon as Keith said it. “I think we somehow managed to go back in time. We really are who we say we are, and so are you. But you obviously don’t know anything about us as we are now. I can promise that we’re not hiding anything from you.”

“Well…I don’t know that we can really say that…” Keith said, trailing off. If the them that Allura knew had only been in space for a few months, then he and Lance were already seeing each other secretly. But then they decided that keeping it from their friends made absolutely no sense, even if it meant that Pidge lost her bet with Hunk.

“Ok, fair,” he said, then turned to Allura, “What was the last major event that happened related to the war? It’ll help us narrow down when exactly we are.”

“You two seem awfully accepting of this,” she said, a note of accusation in her voice.

“We – we’ve been through a lot,” Keith said, intentionally not elaborating. They had been through a lot – alternate reality, quantum abyss, the quintessence field, Bob, finding themselves inside Honerva’s mind – but they couldn’t tell Allura any of it.

“And if we tell you anything, we don’t know if or how it could affect anything,” Lance added.

“Hm, I suppose that’s true. The last major event? Well, we’ve only just found out about your Galra heritage, but after meeting with Kolivan and Antok, I have come to realize that your blood does not define you. You both have only just returned from separate missions. Keith, you and Hunk went to retrieve the Scaultrite from the Weblum-” Keith shuddered involuntarily at the memory “-and Lance, you, Shiro, and Pidge went to rescue Slav from Beta Traz. He’s still here on the castle with us.”

“Wait wait wait – Slav’s still here?” Lance asked. He turned to Keith. “If Slav’s still on board, then he would be able to help figure out what happened. Maybe find a way to get us back to our own time. And hopefully before…” he trailed off, giving Keith a look that the Omega understood. Before the pup comes.

Allura also understood what Lance hadn’t said. “Um, how – how far along are you, exactly?” she asked awkwardly.

“That’s a little complicated,” Keith answered. “The pup’s developing like a normal human, but because I’m half Galra, my body is changing and reacting as if I were completely Galra. Pregnancies are shorter. Six Earth months, or about four and a quarter phoebs, to a normal human ten months or just over seven phoebs.”

“So, you're saying that with how your body is reacting, your pup could be premature?”

“It’s a distinct possibility. But to actually answer your question, sixteen Earth weeks. Almost eleven and a half movements. It gives us no more than five movements to figure this out and get us back to our time.”

Allura nodded, making her decision. “All right. We’ll meet in the lounge first. Paladins and Coran only. Shiro…doesn’t exactly do well with Slav.”

Lance and Keith laughed. “That’s something we will never forget,” Lance said as they followed her out of the pod. Keith turned, locking it with their biometrics. Given the alteration to Lance’s DNA thanks to Allura’s quintessence infusion, they knew that it would stay locked. Their younger selves didn’t have a chance.

They walked in silence for a while, following Allura down lesser used corridors to the lounge entrance that was never used. “Is there anything you can tell me?” she asked, “About your time. How far into our future are you?”

“I don’t know that that’s a good idea, Princess,” Lance said, “You already know that we make it to Earth safely, and I don’t know how that might already be affecting our time. I understand that you want to know if it’s all worth it in the end, but I can’t tell you.”

Allura thought for a few seconds. “I understand. My knowing about the future could affect the present. It could change our decisions about things that will change the outcome of the war. And I take it that however the war does end, it’s the best possible outcome.”

“We think so. There’s a lot more going on than just Zarkon, but if you knew what, I don’t know – there are just too many variables.”

She paused in the doorway to the lounge. “I really do understand. There are more factors and facets to this war than I am currently aware of. Knowing about them now could upset the balance. Well,” she said, gesturing to the room, “Make yourselves comfortable. You already know where everything is.” Her smile was one of genuine affection for the Paladins in front of her.

“Thanks, Allura,” Keith said, maneuvering past her.

Once they were seated comfortably (“Comfort is a bit relative for me at the moment,” Keith told her with a laugh) she called for the Paladins and Coran, and them only, to come to the lounge.

Lance was the first to arrive, ready to drop onto the sunken sofa from the floor above, but stopped himself when he realized he was looking at something that looked like the back of his own head. He only knew what that looked like after a prank involving his siblings and every single mirror in the house. He saw Allura sitting at one end of the semicircle and slowed, turning to her.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Ah. We should wait for the others to arrive before we explain,” Allura said.

“Actually,” one of the unknown people said and Lance nearly choked at hearing his own voice. A little rougher and maybe older, but it was definitely his own voice. He realized the other owner of his voice was still speaking. “I think we should start now. I know we’ll have to repeat ourselves, but I know that you’re kinda nauseous right now,” a long, tan finger pointed in his direction, “And I really think this is the better solution.”

“If that’s what you –” Allura was cut off by the next arrival.

“Allura? Why are we meeting here?”

Pregnant Keith snorted at how young he sounded. His mate patted his head. “I know. We sound like babies.”

The younger Keith froze.

“Yes we’re real. No you're not hallucinating,” pregnant Keith said without moving. He knew what his younger self was thinking.

“Well, as long as we’re both here,” Lance said, “We should explain as much as we can.”

The younger Red and Blue Paladins walked around to the steps and froze again when they were suddenly face to face with themselves. Their older selves were snuggled together in the middle of the sofa horseshoe, not caring who saw them. There was too much for them to take in all at once, but they did notice Lance’s Altean marks and the undeniable fact that the older Keith was significantly pregnant.

“Yeah,” pregnant Keith agreed, “It’s a lot to unpack. We’ll tell you what we can.”

The younger Paladins sat together opposite Allura, not knowing what to say.

“As far as we can tell, we’re from your future. We don’t know how we got here. We were on our way back to the castle and decided to let the autopilot handle the flying while I had a nap and woke up to all the alarms going off about a half hour later. We realized that we weren’t where we should be and found the castle after clearing the asteroid field nearby.”

“And, I’m – or, you – I don’t even know how to phrase that,” the younger Keith stumbled through.

Older Keith just laughed. “We? Since we’re the same person, just at different ages. But yes, I’m pregnant. I'm due fairly soon, so we need to figure this out as quickly as possible.”

Both his mate and Allura noticed how he phrased himself, but said nothing, understanding why he had done it.

It was the younger Lance’s turn to stumble through a sentence. “So, you’re – and – is that –”

Older Lance snickered at his younger self. “Yes. Yes we are, and yes it is.”

“What?! But -”

“But nothing,” older Lance said, “Although that might have prevented this.”

“Yeah, sure. You try telling my heat brain that,” pregnant Keith said.

The younger Keith pointed at his older self. “That. But, how? I mean, I’ve always been so careful about taking it on time. Unless…”

Pregnant Keith shook his head. “No, that hasn’t changed. It failed. We weren’t planning on this. But it happened, and we wouldn’t change it for anything.”

“Ok, so I just need to know one thing. Not about the future, not that.” His hand went to his chest almost unconsciously. “Just so I know. That you’re really me.”

Without moving from his spot snuggled into Lance’s side, Keith reached into his t-shirt and pulled the quartz and moonstone pendant out, letting it fall to his chest. “It was the first thing I ever bought for myself after Dad died. He taught me the basics of the Craft and I've kept it up ever since. Helps me feel connected to him even though it represents Omegas.”

Younger Keith nodded, holding his own crystal. “Yeah. It does.”

Looking from his not-so-secret boyfriend, the younger Lance turned to his own older self. “And he knows about…”

Older Lance cracked an amused smile. “Yeah, he does. But wait, haven’t you already told him about us?”

“Oh, well, yeah. I guess that didn’t really make sense, did it?”

“No, not really. But the last thing Mami said to me when we left her last was that it doesn’t matter where in the universe we are, the Orisha will hear us.”

“That – that’s –”

“What Mami said when I left for the Garrison. Yeah, she still says it.”

Pidge was next to arrive, and stopped when she saw the two older versions of her friends.

“No, you haven’t been up long enough to hallucinate yet,” pregnant Keith said through laughing.

“Come sit down, Pigeon. We’ll explain once everyone’s here,” Lance said, waving her forward.

They were all surprised that it hadn’t been Shiro to appear first, but he and Hunk were next, walking in together. If they thought that Pidge had been surprised, it was nothing compared to the double take from the Black and Yellow Paladins. Allura had yet to say anything once her Paladins began filtering in, and she still didn’t, letting the two older Paladins take the lead.

“Hi, Shiro,” pregnant Keith said. He still hadn’t moved from his mate’s side, enjoying the warmth and safety of his Alpha’s touch.

“What in the almighty fuck is going on?” Shiro asked, stunned.

“We’re just waiting for Coran, and then we’ll explain.”

Shiro and Hunk sat down, among the other Paladins. Hunk seemed to look for some kind of comfort from the familiarity of Pidge, and Shiro sat himself between his Lance and the older Keith with an expression told them that he was trying very hard to wrap his head around the idea of Keith being pregnant. Coran came running in a few minutes later.

“Oh, my apologies, Princess. The scanners went all wiffeley for a few ticks. They’re perfectly fine now.” He noticed the two new additions for the first time. “Erm, Princess…” he started, scratching his cheek with one gloved finger.

“Yes. It’s why I’ve called you all here,” Allura said, “When I was alone on the bridge briefly, scans picked up a single Altean pod. When I hailed it, well…”

“It was us,” the older Lance finished, “We seem to be from your future.”

Everyone stopped, if only briefly, before exploding into questions and demands. Questions about what happened, how they got here from their own time, how did the war end, what’s it like now, did everyone survive…

Lance put a hand up, silencing the onslaught. “We can’t answer most of those questions. Anything we tell you could possibly alter the timeline, and I can’t risk that.”

Pidge pouted, her curiosity getting the better of her. “Well, we already know you two end up together. And if you're here, then you guys obviously made it out.”

Pregnant Keith shifted, sitting up but not leaving his Lance’s personal bubble. “Yes, we did make it out. And yes, we know what it’s like now. But is it worth it to know about our future when it could change your own?”

For maybe the first time in her life, Pidge didn’t have an immediate answer. Her natural curiosity demanded to be sated. The older versions of two of her best friends were sitting in front of her with the answers to so many questions. So much of her own personal stress could be relieved just by knowing if she ever found Matt and Sam. She could know the outcome of the war. But thinking about those things, she realized that Keith was right. If she did know, it would change what she did, how she could react to things. The butterfly effect wasn’t real, or, if it was, it didn’t quite work that way, but a change to a major event could lead to a cascade of differences. And there was no way to know if those would be good changes or bad. But she didn’t get to answer the semi-rhetorical question because Slav walked in at that exact moment.

“So we’re in this reality,” he said, seeing the future Lance and Keith. He narrowed his eyes at them. “You haven’t told anyone anything, have you?”

“Nothing that wasn’t immediately obvious,” Keith answered, settling back against his mate.

“Ah. Right. I need to confirm things about you two before I can recalculate probabilities, but we should discuss this –” His owlish eyes narrowed again as he looked around the room. “- privately.”

~*~*~*~

Links to the rest of the series:

1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19*

#my writing #abandoned wips #klance #omegaverse #abo #omega keith kogane #alpha lance mcclain #mpreg #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender #keith x lance

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vodkassassin · 4 years

Text

world state: refresh, chapter two

Last chapter: “—From the description, it’s basically the same as the synopsis of your run of the mill VRMMORPG anime, except the virtual games are real worlds.”

“Sure, but if they’re real worlds, then what does being a Game Master mean?”

Shen Yuan grins down at him.

“Hey, Airplane,” he says. “How do you feel about being an actual god?” [Read ch. 1]

—

“Oh, yaaawn!” She throws herself back onto the plush surface behind her and stretches her arms above her head. “Man, what a chore! Hey, Dorazou, make a note to always double check the Mission Rating before accepting an Assignment in the future. No way in hell am I gonna be doing that again!”

“AwRAWRight!” The tiny avatar cheers, pumping a little red scaled fist into the air. “Reminder set! Hey, Host, if it’s any consolation, this system thinks you totally aced it!”

“Hmm,” she crosses her arms and stars at the collection of screens that have popped into existence before her. “The mission grading will be the judge of that. Let’s see, here…. Oh, awesome! I earned a double S score! You know what that means!”

Dorazou gives another little roar cheer that sounds more like a kitten's mew than anything. Ah, so cute! “Host may close her next Assignment! Congratulations!”

The agent gathers her hair up into a loose and messy bun at the top of her head, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Awesome. Let’s choose something easy, why don’t we? That last world was only an A-rank, but it gave me a lot more trouble than I bargained for. It should have been labeled at least S-tank! Dorazou, bring up all available Assignments. B-rank or lower only, please!”

“Gotcha!” The tiny dragon-themes sprite gives a little twirl, it’s clunky arms flailing adorably. “Assignment list set to: Easy!”

“Perfect, thanks! Let’s take a look, now… Otome-world…. Fantasy style cooking show star, haha. I have zero talent in that area, so please decline it for me, Dorazou…. Another Knights Order needs a Pure Heavenly Maiden for such and such ritual, ah, that honestly just sounds so sinister, decline! And here we have yet another otome assignment, damn. These things are such pests. Oh, what’s this?”

Sitting up, the agent leans in and peers closely at the screen, eyes bright in excitement. “Hey, Dorazou! This one calls for a team of agents!”

“That is correct!” Dorazou says, beaming. The dragon floats up to sit comfortably on the girl’s shoulder. “System Agents 74 and 81 have put in a request for additional manpower in the Game Master Assignment for World-120MAX. If Host accepts, she and four other agents will be tasked with working under the leadership of Agent 74 in creating and managing a Game World.”

She tilts back again, kicking her legs up into the air with some excitement. “What’s the deadline?”

Dorazou is quiet for a moment as it studies the screens. It gives a hearty cheer and pats the agent on the head. “No deadline! Host will remain on Agent 74’s GM Team until it is decommissioned by the Team itself!”

She jumps off the beanbag entirely to float up into the air, catching the little dragon sprite and hugging it to her chest. “Awesome! So it’s basically a neverending paid vacation, if we want it to be? That totally rocks! Dorazou, we lucked out with this one!”

“AwRAWRight!” The tiny system cheers, looping its scaly arms around her neck in a hug. “Is Host choosing this Assignment, then?”

“As if I’d ever turn down a chance like this! System Agents hardly ever get to work together! Dorazou, please confirm my acceptance!”

“Assignment chosen! Does Host wish to rest in the home space before starting?”

“Nah, I’m way too pumped now,” she clenches her fists and grins. “Dorazou, let’s go meet our new friends!”

“RAWR! World-120MAX loading! Twenty-eight percent! Fifty-percent! Eighty-three percent! World load complete! Entering database now!”

The agent grins as she dissolves into light. This is gonna be sweet!

—

“Nice to meet you! My name is Myra Khol, System Agent 23! I’m here for the Game Master Team Assignment!”

“The what?” The boy says, expression just positively befuddled as it has been when she’s first loaded into the world, and Myra tilts her head in slight confusion. Has this guy never met another agent before?

She hops down from the tree and steps over to him, a little surprised when he takes a step back in return. Man, this guy is shy! How cute!

“Wait a minute, did you just say ‘System’?” The boy straightens up, his eyes going even wider than they’d already been. “Does that mean you are also a transmigrator?”

“What else would I be?” Myra huffs out with some bemusement. “You guys clearly haven’t put any people in this world yet, so the only ones you’d be seeing are yourselves or another agent.”

“Agent…” the boy echoes, holding the fan up to his lips in thought. It’s an endearing gesture, something so old fashion being slightly out of place with the futuristic fantasy design of the boy’s outfit, and yet it still somehow fits him.

Myra blinks at him, and then decides to take pity. From the looks of it, this kid is a noob at the job. She remembers when that had been her. The good old days!

“Didn’t your Systems explain it to you guys yet?” She asks.

At her words, the boy’s expression darkens. “The System? No. Why would the System explain anything?”

Oh. That sounded like anger, there. Myra reaches out a hand and nervously scoots her precious Dorazou over until it’s hidden behind her back. The little dragon makes a tiny noise of confusion, but goes along with it.

The boy narrows his eyes at her action. “Speaking of systems… is that one yours?”

“Um, well,” Myra coughs. “Yes? But! Dorazou is such a sweet little thing! Wouldn’t harm a fly! Please take care of it!”

The boy looks confused. “Wouldn’t harm a fly! Have you never been threatened with Punishment Protocol?”

Myra gapes, aghast. “No! That’s reserved for triple S class worlds on the highest difficulty setting! Why would an Assignment like that be given to newbie agents?”

The boy stares at her, face pale.

“Oh.” Myra presses her hands over her mouth, staring at him in horror. “I mean, I’ve heard it happening only once. Someone being given an extreme-difficulty Assignment for their very first world. It was basically an impossible mission, but she luckily managed to complete it successfully. The Assignment Parameter glitch that led to it was suppose to have been fixed since then, though. Are you really saying…?”

The boy lets out a weak sounding laugh, bowing his head. He rubs the back of his arm across his eyes, and Myra feels something in her chest ache at the sight. These two agents… they’ve really been through the wringer, haven’t they?

Clearing her throat hesitantly, she asks, “The Assignment said there were two agents behind the request. Since you’re here, where’s your partner?”

“He’s on the other side of the Level, touching up on some persistent glitches that are occurring in quadrant five,” the boy releases an aggravated sigh. Then, he glances at Myra in surprise. “Oh, I haven’t introduced myself yet, have I? My name is Shen Yuan, it’s really nice to meet you.”

Myra grins back at him, relieved. “Is it? For a moment there, I thought you weren’t happy to see me.”

“Are you kidding?” Shen Yuan laughs again, and this one is much lighter. It suits him way better than the faintly grieved sound from before. “I am ecstatic to meet you. It’s nice to know that we’re not as alone as we thought. Here, I’ll take you to my… partner. He should be about finished by now.”

Myra bounces onto her toes in excitement. She grabs Dorazou by the tail and troops after Shen Yuan when the boy turns his back and begins to walk away.

“Man, not being given a tutorial world really sounds like it sucked,” Myra says, side eyeing her new teammate as she comes up beside him.

Shen Yuan has an odd smile on his face when he replies. “It was… definitely something, yes.”

“You want me to lodge a complaint with Management?” She asks, a pinch of worry between her brows. “If all three of us do it, they’ll have to take another look at the glitch and make double sure that it doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

Shen Yuan is quiet for a long while as they walk along the quaint little dirt path. The silence stretches into minutes, and Myra decides to leave him to his thoughts, because it looks like he’s pondering something pretty deep.

She busies herself with checking out their surroundings as they move along. Shen Yuan has called this area the Level, and she’s assuming it’s the first of its kind, and therefore intended to be the Starting Area for the Players when they enter into this world. She’s done her reading while loading into the Assignment, so she’s fairly confident in her ability to assist Shen Yuan and his partner with whatever sort of administration work they need help with. So far though, from what she’s seeing, the two of them are actually off to a really good start. One or both of them must have some sort of experience in world building.

What a perfect Assignment for them, if that’s the case.

Especially if what Shen Yuan says is true, and he really had suffered through a triple S class of extreme difficulty for what was suppose to be their tutorial world. He really deserves a paradisal vacation such as this, where he can recuperate from the troubles he’d faced.

“It shouldn’t have happened in the first place,” Shen Yuan finally says, voice so quiet that Myra wouldn’t have heard it if the rest of the world around them wasn’t dead silent. It seems the audiosphere hasn’t been set up, yet.

Myra glances over to her side, and finds Shen Yuan staring down at the ground with a frown on his pretty face. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides.

“You said they already patched the glitch, so it shouldn’t have happened. They — whoever they are — clearly didn’t do their job.”

Myra bites her lip, and hugs a strangely quiet Dorazou to her chest. “Yeah, so we should file a complaint, right? And we can get the rest of the team on board with it, too, once they get here. I’m sure they’ll agree, too.”

“The rest of the team?” Shen Yuan asks, frown still present. He flicks his wrist, and the fan opens with a sharp snap and a skillful flourish. Myra stares at the action in awe. So refined! So graceful! And the fan itself was exquisite.

“I’m sorry, could you elaborate on the… Assignment Parameters you mentioned before? Xiao Lei and I just needed help, and the system said we’d have it. It didn’t explain what that help was, or where it would come from.”

Xiao Lei must be the other agent, Shen Yuan’ partner. Myra files the name away and directs a bright smile in the direction of her new teammate.

“Sure thing! Basically, your request generated a new Assignment in the listings for agents. It asks for five agents to form a team directly under you and your partner, though Agent 74 is suppose to be the team leader. That wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”

Shen Yuan blinks at her, before his frown returns in full force. It looks faintly irritated this time, and the boy calls out, “System, what is my, uh, Agent number?”

There’s a faint sound of static, before a slightly stilted and robotic voice replies, “Host is filed as Agent 81.”

Myra glances down to see a Siamese cat, tail poised elegantly in the air and ears perked upright, weaving between Shen Yuan’s every step like a ghost. The cat glances up at her and blinks it’s bright blue eyes at her with an indifferent gaze.

“Oh, is that your System? It’s so cute!” She squeals.

The cat glances away from her, and Shen Yuan huffs.

“It’s an absolute snob, is what it is,” the boy refutes.

His system doesn’t look back up, and Myra feels a little bad for it, but…. Well, she supposed, if she’s been trapped in an SSS-rank hell world for her first Assignment, she might have some resentment toward her system, too.

She clutched Dorazou to her chest at the terrible thought, and is comforted when the little dragon spite turns around to nuzzle her back. It seems she’s really lucked out, huh?

“Does your system have a name?” She asks, scratching Dorazou behind the ear.

“Does it need one?” Shen Yuan asks coldly.

Myra cringes, glancing down at the aloof-looking cat that darts between his legs. It doesn’t even twitch at the way that it’s host speaks about it, and Myra decides to change the subject least the air becomes too awkward.

“So, um, I guess your partner is the designated team leader, then!” She tries, her smile fixed in place.

Shen Yuan shrugs. He flutters the pretty fan in front of his face and holds his other arm behind his back. He looks like some sort of regal young master of an ancient dynasty, with a posture like that. Myra wonders what the setting of his last world had been. Imperial court drama, perhaps? That sort of plot was almost always a guaranteed S rank.

“It suits him,” Shen Yuan says. “He has the most experience in creating worlds, so I guess I’d follow his lead even if he wasn’t the boss. Though, I’ll definitely be there to advise him, so he doesn’t get too carried away.”

“Carried away?” Myra wonders.

“It happens, sometimes.” Shen Yuan grimaces. “If it’s true that we’ll be a team, then I’ll be counting on you to keep an eye on him, as well.”

“Yes, of course!” Myra is a little confused, but Shen Yuan obviously knows his partner best, so she’ll take his words to heart. She salutes him. “You can definitely rely on me for that!”

This gets her a faint smile, and she inwardly cheers. This boy is surprisingly difficult to get a response out of. Myra hasn’t met someone like him in a long time.

Suddenly, Shen Yuan pulls to a stop, and gestures ahead of them. “We’re here,” he says, and then sighs. “Looks like he’s not finished… I wonder….”

Myra looks ahead of them, to see a huge structure looming in the distance. The forest they’ve been strolling through has given way to an open plain, grasslands mixed with an opaque sandy desert. A few hundred meters away sits a hulking building, which in closer examination is not a building at all, but in fact some sort of autonomous being. It’s collapsed on its side, limbs askew, a central panel of its torso gaping open to allow its mechanical insides to be strewn about throughout the grass and sand around it. There’s faint noises of metal hitting against metal coming from within it, and when Myra squints, she can just make out a tiny figure perched on the very edge of the thing’s opened chassis.

Shen Yuan takes a step forward, and Myra keeps back. He closes his fan with a satisfying clack and slips it into the pocket of his shorts, and then cups his hands around his mouth. “Hey, Shang Lei! Come here!”

Oh, so the other agent’s name was Shang Lei, not Xiao Lei.

Myra pokes at her lip in thought as she watches the distant figure poke it’s head up out of the mechanical innards of whatever creature they were tinkering around inside of. Shen Yuan, Shang Lei… those names both sound pretty Chinese to her. And in Chinese, Xiao is often used as a diminutive or an endearment. So, this must mean that Shen Yuan and Shang Leo are actually very close friends, right? Myra covers her smile with a hand.

Due to context gathered from Shen Yuan's earlier words, it must also be likely that they were partners in their last world. Meaning that Shang Lei also experienced what was, in layman’s terms, called a Hell Assignment. And it is likely that the Hell Assignment was also Shang Lei’s first Assignment, given that Shen Yuan has no idea about a lot of System Agent common sense.

If they were partners all this time, if Shang Lei had previous transmigration experience, he’d have schooled his partner on it by now. And yet, Shen Yuan was ignorant of a lot of things.

Myra presses both her palms to her cheeks and sighs quietly as she watches Shang Lei approach them. Shen Yuan has stepped up to meet him, but she can clearly see the hesitant way that Shang Lei holds himself, the wary way that he eyes her. The way that he slides himself into the shadow of Shen Yuan’s barely taller stature when he realizes she’s looking back at him.

She sighs in her heart, as well, and clutches Dorazou in one arm like a teddy bear. Her system pays her on the hand.

“—apparently posted an assignment asking for other agents to come and lend us a hand.” Shen Yuan is explaining quietly to his partner — his friend. He gestures at her with a hand. “This is Myra Khol, the first one to accept the mission.”

Myra steps forward the smallest step she can take without it seeming like she’s wary of them, too. It still makes Shang Lei duck even further behind Shen Yuan. She does not let it dim her smile.

“Hi, I’m Myra, System Agent 23! I’m pleased to meet you, boss!”

Shang Lei peeks out from behind his friend with wide eyes. There’s a complicated expression on his face.

“... Nice to meet you, too,” he mumbles, and curls back behind Shen Yuan as soon as the last word is out.

That is it! Myra has decided! She will help these two to the best of her abilities, not because it’s the Assignment, but because she wants to!

Dorazou! Edit Assignment self parameters!

[[Host!]]

The dragon sprite makes a soft noise from within her grasp. She sees the way that Shang Lei’s eyes dart down to it, and the frown that graces his face as he glances shyly back toward her with an expression that almost looks faintly concerned. For her. And given the fact that it’s very possible that Shang Lei’s opinion of systems is the same as Shen Yuan’s, due to their not-so-great past experiences, the look that he’s sending her now makes Myra’s heart melt.

[[Assignment parameters, self edit mode!]]

Myra’s smile broadens.

Take care of Agent 74 and Agent 81! Priority!

#scum villain's self saving system #bofuri #cheating men must die #world state: refresh #update #vodkassassin fanfiction #cucumberplane #vodkas ocs

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emptysatellite · 3 years

Text

breaking and entering according to hy + gar-bear

Ao3

one.

“This is a horrible idea.”

“No, it’s genius.”

Hyacinth was skipping ahead in the moonlit field while Gareth just mopped in amazement. It was midnight and they were at the one place they shouldn’t be; Clair House.

They were only there because of that stupid journal Hyacinth was translating. Gareth’s grandmother, Isabella, had written it throughout her entire marriage, when she moved to England with her new husband. The journal was written in Italian, a language Gareth couldn’t understand in the slightest, leaving Hyacinth to translate for him (although, as she made clear, she was not fluent). Most of the entries centered around Isabella’s daily life, but Hyacinth discovered a secret; a little while before her death, Isabella hid diamond jewelry in the house so her money hungry and gambling-obsessed son couldn’t sell them.

Once Hyacinth found this out, she rushed to Gareth’s, demanding they go to his father’s property at once. Lucky for them, Mr. St. Clair was out of town on a hunting trip, leaving the house completely empty.

“Hyacinth,” he attempted to reason with her, “we could get in trouble for this. Like real, legal trouble. Trespassing and breaking and entering are crimes.”

“Good thing my brother’s a lawyer. Anthony would defend us, no questions asked,” she retorted, hiding behind a tree to get a good look at the dark house.

“I think there would be lots of questions asked, Hyacinth. Lots of questions asked,” he leaned against a nearby tree, although completely in sight of any passerbys.

“I don’t think so. I’m Anthony’s favorite sister.”

“I don’t think that matters in the court of law… Aren’t you studying law? Shouldn’t you know this?”

“I’m studying politics and international relations, actually,” she tore herself away from the tree, strolling closer to the house. “Do you have a key to this place?”

“No.”

“What? Why not?” she froze in place.

“I don’t live here, why would I have a key?”

“I don’t know, you used to live here so I just assumed,” Hyacinth whisper-yelled, turning back to him. She gave Gareth a pointed look, “how are we supposed to break in if we don’t have a key?”

“We could break a window like they do in all those karate movies.”

“This isn’t a karate movie, Gareth! Besides, we can’t break a window; the neighbors might hear something and call the cops!”

“Like the neighbors wouldn’t call the police if they saw two suspicious individuals go through the front door when they know my dad lives alone and is out of town.”

Groaning, she said, “well, do you know anyone we could get a key from?”

“My grandmother, maybe?” he suggested, his calm exterior crumbling upon meeting her angry gaze.

“Professor D?” she demanded.

“I’m sure. She has a collection of keys from homes and apartments she doesn’t live in.”

“Perfect,” Hyacinth gave him a wide smile of pearly white teeth. “I’ll call her tomorrow morning and get the keys by lunch so that we can both come back at nightfall.”

“Aren’t we going on a date tomorrow night?” asked Gareth.

“Oh right! Well, we’ll come here after our date, then.”

There was no point arguing; when Hyacinth’s mind was made up there was no use debating it. They’d be back tomorrow, no doubt in Gareth’s mind.

two.

“God, I love your grandmother.”

“More than me, apparently.”

“Oh, knock it off,” Hyacinth gave Gareth a light shove, playing with Professor Danbury’s key to Clair House in her free hand.

“I wore the cologne you like to dinner and you still wanted to come here to find some stupid diamonds instead of back to my apartment,” he replied.

“Okay, well, three things. First, diamonds are not stupid, they’re my best friends. Second, I love the cologne you wore to dinner, it smells so Gar-bear St. Clair. And third, I still want to go back to your apartment, but when we get the diamonds,” she explained, taking a tangle of manila rope out of her bookbag, with a (seemingly) heavy rock tied to an end.

Her whole statement was questionable. Gareth barely knew how to respond. “Gar-bear?” is what he finally managed. “What is that ?”

Hyacinth laughed, covering her mouth with her hand in order not to wake the neighbors. “It’s your nickname,” she said at last. “Isn’t it cute? I think so. I came up with it last night, when I was making this!”

She pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of the pocket of her leather jacket. “Read it and weep,” she thrust it into his hands.

“ Breaking and entering according to Hy and Gar-bear? ” he demanded. “What the fuck , Hyacinth?”

“I’ve done loads of research on breaking into houses. I’m practically an expert,” Hyacinth replied, throwing the rope up onto the balcony with a huff. “I just thought I should add your name too, even though you didn’t contribute because we’re partners. Get it? We’re partners in crime .”

“Har-har,” his response was much more sarcastic than intended, “disrupting the peace is so funny.”

“We’re not disrupting the peace,” Hyacinth rolled her eyes. She added, “I can’t believe I’m stuck with you.”

“For better or worse.”

“Little early to be saying that, don’t you think, Bud?”

“Nope, your face is adorable.”

“Damn, you know flattery gets you everywhere with me.”

“I know.”

“Climb up the rope.”

“Wait, what?” he was shaken out of the blind flirtation. “You want me to climb that?”

“Of course,” said Hyacinth. “That’s why I brought it. I thought you’d be too wuss to scale the building, so I thought the rope might help.”

“Is it even secure?” Gareth asked, glancing upwards, for any sign (or omen) he should not pull himself up the rope because it was a risk to his health. “Like, will that rock support our weight?”

“Yes; I wouldn’t tell you to do something if I didn’t think it was safe. And the rock should support us… I tried like five other rocks before picking this one.”

“You’ve… already tried this?”

“Obviously.”

“How heavy is the rock?”

“Not sure.”

“Why are we climbing up to the balcony, anyway?”

“To go through the balcony door. Duh.”

“Why can’t we just go through the side door. No one would see us.”

“No one would see us go through the balcony door, either.”

“But going through the balcony door seems more complicated.”

“You know, we’re spending all this time arguing when you could just climb the damn rope and we could find the damn diamonds.”

“No.”

“Do you want me to go first?”

“Yes, that would make me feel better.”

Without another word, Hyacinth caught the rope, pulling herself up in a way that vividly reminded Gareth of secondary school physical education class. Still, she made it to the balcony.

“See, it’s totally safe!” she called down. “Now, come on.”

“I don’t know, I’m still nervous, Hy!” he replied.

“I’m holding the rope tight,” promised Hyacinth, “I won’t drop it!”

“If you drop it, we’re breaking up and I’m suing you.”

“Noted. I won’t drop you.”

And she didn’t. Gareth was able to scamper up the rope safely to see Hyacinth’s wide grin at the top.

“I told you that’d you’d be fine,” she said.

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved a hand dismissively. “You wanna do the honors?”

Hyacinth nodded, taking the key out of her pocket. Carefully, she put it in the deadbolt, twisting it unlocked, then doing the same with the door lever. “Aha!” she exclaimed, opening the windowed door. “It worked!”

three.

“Old Dicky may be an arsehole, but he has good taste in books.”

“Never once in my whole childhood did I ever see Richard in the library.”

“Well, then Grandpa St. Clair had good taste in books.”

“Right-o.”

“Hm,” Hyacinth ran her fingers along the book spines. “So much Shakespeare.”

“God, I hate Shakespeare,” said Gareth, fumbling with his flashlight.

“Literally stop. We’re breaking up. Right now,” she replied, turning her nose up. She sneezed.

“Bless you.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“I have dust allergies, just so you know.”

“Good to know.”

“Now, Isabella wrote that the diamonds ―or another set of clues that will lead us to the diamonds―should be in the place where the imagination can run wild,” Hyacinth said, “so I assumed it was the library. What do you think?”

“It could also be the nursery,” suggested Gareth, “because my brother and I would play there all the time; I assume Dick and Uncle Ed would have done the same.”

“That’s true,” she scribbled a note on her arm. “We’ll check the nursery after we finish here.”

“Hyacinth?”

“Yes?”

“It’s going to take us forever to go through here,” Gareth said, spreading his arms for dramatic effect.

Hyacinth seemed to think on this for a brief moment, tapping her marker against her chin. “Hm,” she finally replied, “it won’t take forever if we get started now.”

“Capital plan,” he commented, rolling his eyes.

“I know right,” she retorted. “Besides, even if we tear this room up, we can just leave it; we’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, too?”

“Of course. We’re not resting until we find these damn diamonds.”

“Dick is coming home in less than a week.”

“We’ll just have to be very thorough and efficient then,” she replied. “Now, do we want to start by ripping the books off of their shelves? Or go through all the drawers and cabinets by the desk?”

“I’ll do the desk and you do the shelves.”

“Works with me.”

They went to work, flashlights glowing in the dark library. They didn’t talk, concentration ruling their motions.

“I think I found something!” Hyacinth called, after less than an hour of searching.

“What?” Gareth replied, looking up from the stack of dust-covered papers he was flipping through.

“Hold on, I’m translating,” she paused. She looked up at him, saying, “basically, the hint is that the diamonds are in a washroom.”

“There are five washrooms in this house!” he groaned, collapsing onto the nearest chair.

and four.

“We’re literally going to jail. We’re going to spend the night ―and probably quite a few nights―in jail! ”

“It’s okay, Anthony will defend us in court. Simon will too, I’m sure; I’m his favorite sister-in-law. He got me a miniature pony for my sixteenth birthday, you know.”

“Hyacinth, I’m glad you and Simon and Anthony have good relationships, but we’re still going to jail! ”

“Lower your voice, you’ll upset the cop,” Hyacinth shushed Gareth, placing a finger on his lips.

“I think the cop is already upset,” he replied, grumpily, “because he just arrested us for breaking into my father’s mansion and we didn’t even find the diamonds.”

“Okay, to start, Richard is not your father ―” she started, waving her hand dismissively.

“Believe me, he’s made that clear―” Gareth interrupted.

“But Edward is.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Edward is your dad.”

“Edward? As in my uncle Edward ?” demanded Gareth.

“No, as in your dad Edward,” Hyacinth replied.

“Are you serious?”

“Of course I am.”

“Uncle Ed was my dad?”

“Yes, didn’t you hear what I said?”

“I did,” he breathed in amazement, “I just―it’s hard to believe.”

“You can come to therapy with me, if you want,” Hyacinth suggested. “I have my weekly sessions on Wednesdays.”

“Honestly, I might have to take you up on that offer…”

“There’s no shame in it. My therapist is the best, I’ve been working with her for years.”

“Nice, nice.”

“Oh! I forgot to add,” she reached into her jacket, pulling a trinket ―no not a trinket, a necklace, bracelet, and set of earrings―out of her pocket, “we did find the diamonds.”

“Holy shit!” exclaimed Gareth.

“Shh, the cop will hear,” she mumbled, untangling the jewelry from one another.

“I just… Hy, you’re amazing!”

“I know,” she flipped her hair with her free hand, “I’m told all the time.”

“Where did you find it?”

“In Clair House. Duh.”

“No, I meant , where in Clair House?”

“Under a floorboard in the nursery washroom. When we split up and you were in the master washroom.”

“We’re here, hooligans,” the policeman peered at the couple through the rearview mirror.

Hyacinth locked eyes with Gareth, slowly putting the diamond jewelry back into her jacket. She smiled at him and he returned a favor.

Still, they spent the night in jail.

#hyacinth bridgerton #gareth st clair #bridgerton #bridgerton fic

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sabraeal · 4 years

Text

Minimum Distance

If there’s one thing Obi’s sure of, it’s that this is Hisame’s fault.

Not the lockdown-- though honestly, he wouldn’t put it past the bastard if it meant having things go his way-- but everything else. This fucking party. That stupid fake dating plan. The kiss.

He scrapes a hand down his face. This whole ‘day trip’ is turning right into a disaster weekend and god, if he had the ability to fly right back to DC right now, he would. But instead he’s trapped here, in the middle of the New Mexican desert, in the Smart House of some elusive and shady billionaire. He must have kicked a puppy in the last life-- no, bags of puppies-- if the universe is exerting this level of karmic violence on him.

His back hits the door. He needs like, five minutes. Just until he learns how to breathe again.

Which he’s not going to do, if he keeps replaying that kiss in his head. You know, the only thing he’s been doing for the past twenty-four hours, including breakfast, where Rougis just stared at him with that grin on his face. Like he knew. Like he could somehow see every last mortifying second of his dreams last night, and thought it was funny.

Doc’s informed him this whole pandemic thing is serious, that there’s stuff with r’s and knots and things being close to two. He is tangentially aware aware of how a logarithmic scale works, and he’d never wish anyone actually sick, but-- if Hisame could just shuffle off this mortal coil in the next few hours, that would really pluck one of the bigger monkeys off his back.

He takes a deep breath-- more like a deep hiccup, honestly-- and lets the tension fall out of him. It’s fine. He doesn’t have time to stand here and freestyle mental scream. He has to work on getting them back home. Which means getting this Rugilia guy to sign off on funding.

And then he can hop on a plane, pandemic permitting, and get instantly fired for kissing his boss’s girlfriend. Bingo bango bongo. Job well done.

God, it would be just great if he could resist fucking up just one good thing in his life. At least Ryuu will still write.

Right, no time for catastrophizing. They’ve got a billionaire to woo. Or something.

He swings open his door-- no, it’s her door, but also his, because switching rooms seemed prudent when the guy holding all the keys spent a night trying to get Doc alone in a garden-- only to run into Doc. Literally. Right there. In her borrowed pajamas.

Whatever intel Rugilia had on her was clearly not as good as his, since Doc is really a matching pajama sets kind of girl, and not--

Well, after living with her for three years, Obi can firmly say he’s never seen a cotton teddy. At least, not on Doc herself.

He could get used to it, though.

“Oh, Obi!” She blinks, taking a step back. Adjusts her glasses, too. Tugs at a hem that is not going to get any lower, no matter how much she tries. “I was just coming to see you.”

“Ah.” He scrubs at the back of his head; it gives him as good an excuse as any for looking anywhere else. If he gives her more than a glance he’ll start counting freckles, and well-- they have separate rooms for a reason “Me, too. I was thinking--”

“The room thing isn’t going to work.”

He blinks. Blinks again.

“I mean...” Her cheeks bloom to a pale pink, the start of what’s sure to be a painful blush. “We should be sharing a room.”

He hopes there’s an actual, medical doctor in this group of useless socialites, because he’s about to have a cardiac event, and Doc’s doesn’t have the right alphabet soup to handle that kind of thing. “UH.”

“No, no!” She waves her hands, and god, they’re so close her fingertips practically brush his chest. Which wouldn’t be a problem if she didn’t follow up with, “I just mean, we should be sleeping together.”

Oh, it’s too late for medical intervention now; he’s already dead. “Ah, Doc--?”

“I just mean,” she yelps, fingers fluttering nervously between them, making it real hard to not look down and get some solid ideas about her cup size. “I know we switched rooms. For safety.”

“For safety,” he echoes dumbly, because that’s the level of thought he’s at right now. Or at least, the level he can safely be at without risking a real containment breach on all the things he’s not allowed to think when Doc’s around, wearing almost nothing, and telling him they need to put their bodies in close, horizontal proximity.

“But if we’re trying to be a couple, I don’t think...” Her tongue pokes out, pink and spongy, and draws his eyes right to the lips he definitely shouldn’t be staring at. “Well, I just don’t think that we-- that you-- that it looks--?”

“You mean,” he says, so slow, like she’s a rogue possum and he’s animal control, “I don’t look like the kind of guy who wouldn’t be taking advantage of a king bed and silk sheets?”

“Ah...” She’s the one that blinks now, eyelashes fluttering against red cheeks that are begging him to take their temperature. “Not-- not the way you were, um...”

She lets the implication hand in the air, and god, fuck Rougis for putting that fucking idea in his head, for even allowing the memory of her against him like that, sighing into his mouth--

“I thought we were supposed to be keeping it on the down low,” he says, leaning in with a grin. “Since you’re slumming it with the help.”

Her mouth goes from sexy to scowl. “I’m not slumming it with anyone.”

“Right, right, I know that,” he assure her, “but Rugilia--”

“No.” It’s loud enough that he flinches, because fuck, he can pretend to be normal all the live long day, but the second a voice raises-- “Oh, Obi, sorry, I didn’t--” her palm wraps warmly around his arm, thumb rubbing over the cotton of his sleeve-- “I just meant that I’m not-- it’s not-- being with you isn’t slumming.”

It’s all a little much having her so close, having so little of her be clothed, and smell so good as she does. She must have taken a shower or something before rushing out here to make herself his own personal problem. In any case, all he manages is a half-dubious, half-distracted hum.

“Besides,” she adds, one of her eyebrows rounding in a teasing arch, “as far as I was aware, doctors and lawyers were considered the same pay grade.”

Obi coughs on his own spit. “I’m not a lawyer.”

“And I’m not that kind of doctor.” Her arms fold neatly-- distractingly-- beneath her breasts, A cups giving off a distinctly B-cup vibe. “But Eisetsu doesn’t know that. I told him I was here about a vaccine, and you said you were here to keep me out of trouble.”

And with a man used to dealing with pharma rather than the academic side, the legal representation would be implied. Obi scrubs a hand through his hair, staring down at his silk pajama set, and tries to discern what about him says ‘went to a four-year college,’ let alone law school. “Me?”

“Well...” She really shouldn’t look at him like that, all coy from the corner of those big eyes, if he can’t give her a repeat performance of last night. “It only makes sense. I mean, who else does Zen hang out with.”

Now, that-- that gives him pause. Mitsuhide, lawyer. Kiki, lawyer. Doc, doctor, but Not That Kind. Him--

“Fuck me,” he breathes, “that actually makes sense.”

“It does,” she agrees primly. “I’d thought the keeping it quiet angle was more along the line of, uh, conflict of interest, rather than, um, other reasons.”

Other reasons, like that half of his other aliases were on No Fly lists. “Conflict of Interest?”

“Well, um...” Her flush is brighter this time, spilling over her cheeks and down her neck, flirting with the lace edging her neckline, and he certainly is feeling both conflicted and interested about how far it might go-- “There’s probably fraternization rules.”

He blinks. “Fraternization?”

“You know,” she says slowly, taking a step back, right into the doorway of her-- his room. “That employees can’t date or, um--” her skin’s barely a shade lighter than her hair-- “do other stuff. At least without clearing with HR first.”

It shouldn’t be so cute that a woman with a doctorate can’t say sex, but this is it, this is his type now.

“Other stuff, hm?” He steps close, their toes sharing the jamb. So close that when she sucks in a breath, shallow and quick, her chest brushes against his. “If we’re supposed to be fraternizing in this room tonight, a few things are going to have to change.”

She shuffles back, an arm’s length--one of hers, at least-- toes curling on the carpet. “O-oh?”

The thing is: Obi can’t resist a good joke. It’s why he works so good with the boss-man; no matter how transparent, how dumb it is, all his teasing crawls right under that lily-white thin skin of his and sends Wisteria climbing right up the wall. It’s satisfying.

So when he closes the gap between them with a single long stride, he expects Doc to just-- tell him to quit it. Yelp maybe. Slap his chest. Scold him, if he’s lucky.

But instead she just peers up at him, chest quivering, and doesn’t get the joke. By the way she’s looking at him, she--

Ah, well, it doesn’t look like she minds overly much either. Which is going to make this Not Funny real quick in a southerly direction.

Strange, he doesn’t feel much like laughing either.

“The bed.” His hips guide her back a step, then two. “For one.”

She really needs to stop him, to put her foot down, to really get it through to the parts of him below the belt that she’s not interested in bringing some realism to this little show they’re putting on.

Instead, she lets him herd her four more steps back, body following every slow, rolling suggestion of his. “Bed?”

“Yeah.” Her knees hit the edge of the mattress-- well, considering how tall these beds are, her waist. She wobbles, hands bracing on his chest. “We need to get this bed messy.”

Her breath sighs into the air between them, eyes so round, so dark, and--

She realizes what he’s about to do five seconds too late. “Obi, n--!”

Feathers fly everywhere. Damn, this Rugilia guy really did spare no expense.

There’s a long, quiet moment, Shirayuki staring up at him with confusion and betrayal warring in her eyes, and she-- she laughs. It’s all the warning he gets before he’s blind-sided, pillow knocking him to his knees, and god, she’s going to regret starting a fight with--

Tap tap. Tap tap.

They both freeze, staring at one another. That was on the door. Her door. No, his door.

“It’s Eisetsu,” comes the soft voice through it. “Can we talk?”

#obiyukichopped #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #modern au #quarantine au #ans #this is another one of those fics where I really just gotta...write out the whole thing #and i will!#hopefully in Feb/March you'll see the first chapter of this particular fic #i have got some IDEAS for how this is going to go down #and oh boy is it gonna be fun

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sleekervae · 4 years

Text

The Neighbour [1.2]

Masterlist

Trigger warning: here is the first round of smut!! 😈😈 I need a shower now...

"Your candy floss mind

And sugar cane lips

Have me hooked on an

Endorphin rush,

You're too sweet to ever resist..."

The sound of keys typing coincided with the bubbling of boiling water in a pot. Eva looked up from her screen now and again, watching Remington from the island counter as he tried to handle making dinner on his own. His own way of surprising her, it was a baked vegan mac and cheese. A particular playlist on his Spotify was echoing through the kitchen and he was singing along to it. She loved listening to his voice; it was so raspy and yet so comforting.

Despite how calm and collected he appeared, Remington wouldn't dare let it slip that he was actually struggling hard. His cheese sauce wasn't thickening, instead it had the viscosity of running water.

Eva smiled to herself when her gaze fell over Remington's newly dyed pink hair, an event in itself as she insisted on helping him. He had his head in the tub of his bathroom, closing his eyes at the pleasant sensation of her nails massaging the color into his scalp. The dye only sufficiently covered his blonde tips, his brunette roots more prominent now. Afterwards she had wet a cloth and sat on his knee to wipe the leftover dye from his face. His hands braced her waist and his dark brown eyes pierced into her blues.

"You think it'll turn out okay?" he asked.

"I think it's gonna' look fantastic," she smiled and kissed his nose, "You're hot enough as it is. Throw in hot pink hair and you've broken the scale,"

Forty-five minutes later Remington washed out the color and shampooed his new hair. Eva watched the flashy color and bubbles swirl down the drain, already in awe at his new look.

"To quote The 1975: you look so cool," she drawled with a smile, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Well, I had a pretty great assistant," he ran a hand through his damp hair before bringing himself down to kiss her. He then handed her his phone.

"Can you take a picture for me?" he asked. Eva obliged and chuckled as he pulled a face and made the rock-out sign with his hands. Then he took the phone and pulled her back into him.

"Are you gonna' post that?" she asked, curious as he set up the camera again.

"Yeah. Although, this one is just for us," he placed Eva in front and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head and positioning the phone at her chest level. Eva leaned into his embrace, smiling though not looking at herself in the bathroom mirror. She didn't take a lot of selfies, so she opted to look at Remington through the reflective surface.

It was some time after that Remington proposed he'd make dinner for them. And so Eva sat at the island, watching him shake his head at the sauce pot while she went between typing a new poem and working on her next article.

"You can part my lips with

White chocolate fingertips,

And I'll beg you to let me taste

The syrup that drenches over

Your teeth and saturates your tongue..."

She pushed the computer away and wandered over to the stove. The cheese sauce certainly smelled good, though she did notice it was quite runny.

"I don't know why it's not getting thicker," Remington said huffily.

Eva glanced at the recipe he had open on his tablet, then at the menagerie of ingredients he had behind them on the counter. Nutritional yeast, coconut milk, garlic powder...

"Did you put any flour in it?" she asked.

Remington then realized where he'd gone wrong, "Ah ha! I forgot the flour!" he then dashed to his cupboard. Eva chuckled endearingly.

"Do you need any help?" she offered.

"Would you mind straining the pasta?"

"Of course,"

Remington quickly remedied his sauce and he transferred it and the pasta into a baking dish. As he sprinkled on the bread crumbs, Eva swiped some leftover sauce from the pot and held it up for him to taste. He took it gladly, smiling then licked the cheese sauce off her finger. She giggled before doing the same for herself.

"Very nice. You should cook more often," she said.

Remington smirked, "So, am I turning on to veganism?" he simpered.

"You're turning me on, but not just with vegan food," she shrugged, giggling as he playfully gawked at her.

"Naughty girl!" he gasped, taking some more sauce on his finger and swiping it over her cheek.

"Hey!"

"Oh here, let me get that," he grinned. He grabbed her waist and licked up the sauce with a wet kiss, but he didn't stop there. He moved his lips to her ear then onto her jaw until finally on her neck where he began to suck and bite.

She sighed, running her hands up his arms, moving her head to the side so he could access her neck better. He was on his third mark when the oven dinged, signaling it had reached full heat.

"Rem -- Remington, the oven's ready," she giggled.

"It's not going anywhere," he mumbled, squeezing her hips, his thumbs drawing circles on her exposed skin.

"C'mon, I'm hungry!" she said.

"I'm hungry too," he smirked.

"Clearly. Put the pasta in and we can pick up in a minute," she promised, shoving him away gently.

He grunted but did as she said. She adjusted her shirt, watching him pick up the casserole dish and checked out his ass as he bent down to put it in the oven. He caught her and he smirked.

"Were you checking me out?" he asked even though he knew she was.

"Why the hell would I do a thing like that?" she scoffed and waved him off.

"C'mere!"

He lifted her in his arms and she squealed, and he collapsed onto his couch with her straddling his lap. He rid her of her sweater so she was just in a tank top with her chest in front of his face. With one look she connected their lips together and they made out, and before he knew it he had her lips dragging across his neck.

Remington rolled his head back onto the couch as she sucked expertly on his skin. He silently thanked Emerson for not being home. His large hands held onto her waist, he rocked her slowly against him, moaning at the friction between them. Tied with her mouth on his neck, if Remington died right there he'd die a happy man.

"Baby, you're so good," he moaned as she continued to suck on his skin.

Eva chuckled into his ear, "I'm good at something else, too," and her hot breath fanned over his skin, eliciting goosebumps.

Before he could retort she'd slipped off his lap onto the floor, and began to undo the button of his jeans. She was meticulous and took her time with his zipper as he stared wide eyed as this beautiful girl before him, he shucked his pants down his thighs. He gulped when her finger lightly traced around the perimeter of his head. It twitched in response and she smiled.

"Can I?" she asked, fluttering her big beautiful Bambi eyes up at him.

Remington's voice had disappeared on him, so he resorted to nodding.

She lifted him into her palm, Remington was aching when she pressed soft kisses up his shaft and then a wet one over his slit. She continued to kiss him before her tongue poked out in between.

"Fuck, baby, don't tease," he panted, feeling his skin burn in the most delicious way.

"What do you say?" she asked, and Remington was alarmed that she had a small dominant side to her. But he fucking loved it.

"Please, baby," he exhaled, lifting his hand up but then dropped it back to the cushion. He didn't want to grab her hair yet, he didn't want to push her.

She smiled again (God damn) then spat heavily on his head, watching it dribble down before she took him completely in her mouth. Remington couldn't contain his moan from feeling her mouth wrapped around him. He'd imagined it when he was in the shower or thinking of her late at night, but the real thing was so much better.

She lathered him up by moving her head up and down and when she was satisfied, she began to pump her hand up and down as well and Remington's mind went blank. The mac and cheese was forgotten. The day was gone. Hell, his own fucking name had escaped his him.

The only thing he could focus on was watching his pretty girl bobbing her head up and down his cock, taking him as far as she could without gagging and what she couldn't take she squeezed gently with her fingers which surprisingly felt good.

He was a moaning mess and she'd say 'yeah?' and 'does that feel good?' which caused vibrations and more sensations and he couldn't form a coherent sentence so he just kept moaning and nodding. When he was getting close she sucked on him like a literal lollipop and then her fingers begin to fondle his balls, and he felt the tight knot in his stomach begin to unravel.

"I don't swallow," she said quietly, but she kept working at him and he didn't care.

"That's fine, don't stop ... I'll tell you when," he gasped and bucked his hips slightly.

The sound of her slurping sent him over the edge and then he was pushing her off him with rushed 'baby, baby, stop, stop' and he was coming over his own fingers. Her small hand was beneath his though and she helped him release until he'd fallen back against the couch, hot and bothered and totally satisfied.

He didn't even notice her leave until she was sitting beside him with a wet paper towel in her hand and cleaned up his hand and thigh. She rolled it up in a much larger dry piece of towel and he rolled his head to the right to look at her dazedly.

"You okay?" she giggled and he gave her a lazy smile back.

"You're fuckin' incredible," he sighed then pursed his lips. She took the hint and leaned in close to peck his lips.

"I wanted to make you feel good," she shrugged, her dominant demeanour now replaced with her typical sweet and shy persona.

"You exceeded. I think that was the best blow I've ever had,"

"Oh, please," she giggled again, and then the oven timer went off. Remington groaned, about to get up though he realized his dick was still out with his pants still around his thighs.

"Shit," he mumbled, shuffling them back on while Eva was laughing beside him, "Oh quiet, you helped make the mess," he wagged a finger at her in warning and she stuck her tongue out at him while he headed into the kitchen.

The mac and cheese was delicious, and Eva had to admit that she didn't mind vegan food so much anymore. They packed up what was left and Eva helped Remington with the dishes, despite him assuring her that she could relax. With the way he was thinking, she would need all the relaxation she could get.

He told her to head up to his room and pick a movie for them. She was more than happy to oblige. He was buzzing with excitement as he quickly finished cleaning up and grabbed the can of whipped cream from the fridge.

Coming into the bedroom Remington grinned as he heard the opening lines of Spirited Away. Eva was sat cross-legged on the bed and he closed the door behind him. She smiled at him as he placed the can on the bed, though she glanced at him quizzically before glancing at the can.

"What're you gonna' do with that?" she asked, sounding more perplexed then nervous.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, coming to kneel on the bed.

"To an extent," Eva shrugged.

"To an extent?" he mocked. She giggled as he reached forward and tugged her by her ankles towards him, "What does that mean?" he stared down at her with sheer adoration.

"Depends on what you're gonna' do to me," she blushed.

"Well, are you okay to take off your shorts and underwear?" he smiled reassuringly. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, but he was happy when she obliged him. She kicked off her clothes onto the floor behind him.

"Good girl," he mumbled, kissing her cheek, "Now can you lie back for me?"

She nodded and slowly lowered herself onto the duvet. Remington grabbed her ankles yanked her further down the bed so her naked bum was on the edge. He kneeled down and grabbed the whipped cream and pushed up her top so it rested over her ribs. He slowly and meticulously sprayed the cream from her bellybutton to her mound, and on the inside of both of her thighs. She inhaled sharply at the cold but tried to relax. He set the can on the floor next to him.

He hummed as he looked at her, she looked delectable and she was throbbing already as her dark blue eyes meet his. They were wide with excitement and lust as she realized his plan.

"You're my dessert, tonight," he rasped, then attached his mouth to her stomach.

The cold cream on her warm skin was pure gold on his tongue. He took his time in licking and sucking it all off. When he reached her thighs some of the cream had slid onto his duvet but he was hardly pressed to give a fuck. He swiped his tongue at the rogue sweetness dripping down her thighs and glanced up at her once more before pressing his mouth into her.

Eva gasped at the chilled sensations of his lips and the cream but he began to move his tongue in intricate patterns and she mewled happily. Her fingers clenched at the duvet but Remington dragged her hand into his newly dyed hair and she pulled at the spikes.

He lifted her thighs over his shoulder as he devoured her rapidly and without pause. She was the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted and his tongue worked her with expert precision. Soon enough she began rocking her hips into his mouth and her moans were sinful; her fingers continued to pull harder as he felt her come for the first time. He watched her writhe and gasp for breath, his tongue still working her as she came down. He smirked on her pussy lips, proud because he hadn't even used a finger yet.

"Fuck, Rem," she whined when he didn't stop.

She was panting hard and wiggling like mad, her thighs clenching around his head and she came again. He peeked at her through his lashes and her mouth was slack in ecstasy, and her eyes were screwed shut and he hoped she was seeing stars.

When her hips slowed again he removed his mouth and kissed the inside of her thighs, biting lightly to mark her up as she collected herself. He rested his cheek against her thigh and stared up at her as she finally opened her eyes.

"You okay, honey?" he mimicked from earlier.

Eva breathed slowly, her skin tingled no matter what little movements she made, "Okay, I trust you now," and he laughed against her skin.

"Fructose and adrenaline permeate my body,

And I'm losing all control on this sugar high

You've set me on.

It'll take me a long time to come down.

But I keep coming back for dose,

After dose,

After dose.

I'm an addict always itching for my next fix

Of your honey-soaked, sickly sweet affections,”

#palaye royale #Palaye Royale fic #Palaye Royale imagine #palaye positivity #remington leith #Remington Leith imagine #emerson barrett #sebastian danzig #smut #emo boys #music #boy bands #band imagines #band imagine blog #band blog #poetry #original story #original female character

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non-nu · 4 years

Text

you’re my answer [1] | wonwoo

↠ pairing: actor!wonwoo x manager!reader

↠ genre: secret relationship, actor au

↠ word count: 1.8k

↠ warnings: mild cursing

↠ synopsis: y/n is living out a peaceful existence as the manager of top actor seo jisoo. but all of that changes when jisoo is forced into a fake relationship with her costar jeon wonwoo. thrown together in this bizarre situation, y/n quickly discovers wonwoo isn’t what he portrays himself to be. things get even more complicated when y/n starts to fall for wonwoo.

↠ character profiles ↞

↠ masterlist ↞

“We never should have gone to that hot pot restaurant,” you sigh as you place your phone down in your lap.

“I didn’t think their food was that bad,” Jaebum replies from beside you. You turn to him with a disapproving expression that quickly shatters into a grin when you make eye contact.

“You know what I’m talking about,” you nudge his arm at his widening smile. You let out a short chuckle but fall silent as your mind returns to what you had just been reading. Seeing the worry on your face, Jaebum grows serious.

“More articles are coming out, huh?”

“People are going crazy,” you show him the latest comments on your phone, “Jisoo and Wonwoo have been trending for the whole afternoon. All because of these rumors.”

“You know how it goes,” Jaebum offers some encouragement, “Everyone will forget about it by tomorrow morning.”

“Tell that to Ms. Kim. She’s already asked us to come in for a ‘chat’. I’m going to get an earful and then some.”

Before Jaebum can reply, the door the two of you are sitting next to opens. Jisoo steps out of the practice room followed by her vocal coach, a slightly older woman who is speaking enthusiastically.

“Jihoon is one of the biggest producers right now. You’re so lucky to be working with him,” she gushes.

“Oh really?” Jisoo attempts to inject a modicum of interest in her voice, but you can tell by her expression that she’s losing her will to be polite, “I don’t follow the music industry so I don’t know his work.”

The other woman clucks her tongue and a wistful expression comes over her face.

“The opportunity is wasted on you. I should have gone into acting, then maybe I’d have a shot at a singing career,” she pushes out a harsh laugh and motions in your direction, “Better yet, I should have become a manager. Then I’d get to meet all kinds of celebrities just by driving someone around a couple hours a day.”

Yeah, it’s so great my film degree didn’t work out. The words almost tumble out of your mouth, but you catch yourself.

“It’s a pretty sweet deal,” you reply instead with an awkward laugh.

“Yup, she’s my glorified chauffeur,” the sarcasm behind Jisoo’s comment does not register with the older woman as she lets out another round of laughter. You, Jisoo, and Jaebum all exchange glances as her outburst goes on for a bit too long.

“But you know,” her tone becomes serious as she regains her composure, “would it be too much trouble to pass him my demo when you’re in the studio?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Jisoo places a hand on the woman’s shoulder as a farewell and begins to walk down the hall swiftly. You and Jaebum bid her goodbye as you follow close behind.

“By the way, Jisoo!” she calls from down the hall as you wait in front of the elevator, “Why don’t you bring Wonwoo around next time?”

“Isn’t there another vocal coach in this city?” Jisoo mumbles as the elevator doors open.

Jisoo has already started her tirade as you put the keys in the ignition.

“In the first place, why am I even featuring on this track? Whose idea was it to put that in my contract? And second of all, how much free time does the company think I have anyway? Making me spend two hours a week with that horrible gossip. All she has me do is run scales half the time and the other half she’s asking for an autograph from this actor or that singer. Wasting my time. It’s not that hard to string a couple notes together in the studio.”

“Oh, is it not? Someone should let Park Hyoshin and Sohyang know.”

Your joke breaks Jisoo out of her ranting mode as one corner of her mouth sneaks up.

“I know it’s shitty, but it’s not worth it to get worked up because of that woman,” you reason with her as you merge onto the main road, “If that’s how she copes with the disappointment of never fulfilling her dreams, shouldn’t we let her have that much?”

A brief silence falls over the car and your heart clenches as you realize what you’ve just said.

“Damn. You really said it.” Jisoo says in an appreciative yet slightly shocked tone while Jaebum lets out an extended “ohhh” behind his hand.

At their reactions, you mentally kick yourself for managing to put your foot in your mouth yet again. You quickly back track.

“No, no. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant…Really, I-”

Jisoo stops your floundering with a knowing wave of her hand.

“We know,” she reassures you, “I’m sure you meant it to be empathetic, in your own twisted way.”

“You don’t have to call it ‘twisted’…” you mutter but relief quickly washes over you at her words of understanding.

“I don’t know why you try so hard to be agreeable. I think you’re much better this way.” She makes the comment absently while looking out the window.

“You’re unique in many ways, Jisoo.” you tease.

“Oh, but I wish I could be there the day someone lets her have it. She will literally implode.”

“I don’t know if I’d wish that on her.”

“Always the pacifist.” Jisoo says in mock disapproval.

“Some people would say Y/N knows to pick her battles.” Jaebum chimes in and you wave an approving finger in his direction.

“I’m saving my energy for the lovely conversation we’ve been called in to have.”

“God, don’t tell me we’ve finally been summoned by Ms. Kim,” Jisoo cries out in exasperation, “Why do we have to get dragged out because people can’t keep their minds from going crazy with wild fantasies? What’s she going to tell me, anyway? I shouldn’t go out to eat because you never know if you’ll happen to run into another actor?”

You and Jaebum brace for the incoming spew of words and frustration.

“In the first place, what’s the big deal? So we ate at the same restaurant. Who cares? People eat at the same restaurant all the time. There were dozens of other people at the place, too. Am I dating all of them?”

“The rumors started more from the fact it happened three times. Within a month.” Jisoo dismisses Jaebum’s words with a flick of her wrist.

“Also because you’re about to shoot a movie together. Literally tomorrow.”

“Even if we were dating, what’s so interesting about that? It’s my business and it doesn’t belong on the front page of a trashy website that mistakes click bait for journalism.”

“In a way, she should be grateful you and your new movie are getting this much media play already,” you ponder as you pull into a space in the company parking lot.

“Any publicity is good publicity.” Jaebum offers as you unclick your seatbelts.

“Let’s get this over with.” You sigh as you head towards the imposing concrete building.

“She’ll see you now.” Ms. Kim’s assistant walks up to where you had been waiting in the lobby. She motions for you and Jisoo to follow her.

“You can wait here.” She speaks to Jaebum who remains seated.

Her heels click neatly against the perfectly white tiles as she leads you to the main office on the floor. She swings the glass door shut behind you as you enter the pristine room.

Ms. Kim is sitting at her desk with a document in hand. She doesn’t look up, but motions for you two to sit in the metal chairs on the other side of the table. The room is thick with silence aside from the occasional rustling of sheets as she turns a page. You’re examining a twisted glass statue on her bookshelf when Ms. Kim finally places the papers down. She clasps her hands together on the table and slowly turns her gaze up towards you and Jisoo.

“We’ll release an official statement in a few days,” she delivers the edict emotionlessly.

“A few days?” you repeat in confusion, “Don’t we want to stop this before things get out of hand?”

“And why would we want to do that?”

“Because” Jisoo seems shocked she has to clarify this point, “Jeon Wonwoo and I are not dating.”

“Well, now you are.”

You both know the severe woman before you is not the joking type, but Jisoo snorts a disbelieving laugh anyway. You’re met with impassive eyes as the two of you wait several seconds for her to clarify or take it back.

“No.” Jisoo returns the woman’s icy stare, “This is absurd. Do you actually realize what you’re suggesting?”

“I do. And it’s not a suggestion.”

You sense Jisoo bristle at that statement.

“Just what makes you think I’ll go along with this insanely unethical plan of yours?”

“Don’t be naïve, Jisoo. You’ve been in the business long enough to know this is hardly uncommon.”

The two continue to lock stares across the table for several heated seconds. With a sickeningly fake smile contorting her face, Ms. Kim continues to speak.

“If you don’t like it, of course you have the right to break your contract. But I’m sure we’d all hate to see you tangled up in court for the next five, six years.”

You’re well aware her threats are not unfounded. Everyone had read the stories. An endless legal battle and a couple vicious rumors could end anyone’s career. And it would be all business as usual for Ms. Kim and the company.

At this point, you can practically feel Jisoo vibrating in the chair next to you, her temper about to boil over. You had seen her mad, but never like this.

She had trekked a long path to get to where she is now, but you sense she could be capable of turning her back on it all just to throw it in the publicist’s face. When she inhales sharply, you jump to cut her off.

“What do we need to do?”

Ms. Kim keeps her gaze fixed on Jisoo a moment longer before giving you a quick glance. Her eyes linger less than a second before she begins shuffling through the papers on her desk.

“We’ll be in touch with more information. You may go.”

“Ok. Thank you.” You stand up in a hurry but Jisoo stays put, fists clenched tight in her lap.

“Jisoo,” you whisper tentatively, “let’s go.”

Her eyes are daring the woman seated across the table to acknowledge her. Having said her piece and gotten the desired response, it’s like the two of you no longer exist to Ms. Kim who continues to review the documents before her.

“Jisoo,” you place a hand on her shoulder, “There’s nothing we can do right now. We need to leave.”

Jisoo could probably sit there all night, she’s stubborn enough. But instead she slowly releases the tension in her body with a shaky exhale before rising to her feet. Her mouth remains pulled into a deep frown as she stomps out of the room in silence.

↠ a/n: wow. i meant to post this sooner but got super busy😖anyway, the next part is underway and our main man will finally make an appearance! i’ll post it as quickly as i can. in the meantime, lmk what you think so far😊thank you for reading 🌻

#wonwoo fic #wonwoo scenarios #svt fic #svt scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen scenarios #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #svt #kpop fic

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turning-the-frigging-frogs-gay · 4 years

Text

Underneath The Spotlight- A Sanders Sides Fic

Taglist: @sophiexteresa

Ask if you would like to be added!

Chapter 12- The Most Stressful Twenty Seconds of Patton’s Life So Far

(Read chapter 1 here!)

(Read here on ao3!)

Warnings: Nausea, anxiety, stress, mentions of food, cursing, caps

A/N: this is it folks! Everyone wish Patton good luck, he’s gonna need it

Patton swore he was about to be sick. Waiting in the wings for the first of his back-to-back dances, wearing his next costume underneath his current one, not even Janus’ arms around his waist and soothing voice in his ears could calm his nerves. His breathing became erratic as he felt tears well in his eyes. Janus took his face in his hands.

“Here now, it’s ok. Don’t cry, your makeup will run.”

Patton violently shook his head. “Janus I can’t do this. It’s gonna fail, and I’m gonna miss my next dance, and all that hard work will be for nothing-“

“Patton Hart, you listen to me. Everything is going to be fine. I am here, and I will get you through this.”

Patton nodded but didn’t seem convinced, but it was too late for Janus to try and comfort him any further as suddenly the sound of applause filled Patton’s ears. Janus hugged him tight.

“I’ll meet you round the other side of the stage. Good luck, darling.”

Patton nodded as Janus left him. He truly was in this alone now. This had to go perfectly. It was now or never.

Patton pushed all his fears and anxieties down as the music began, plastering on a big smile as he walked on stage, ready to attack this energetic and fast-tempo dance with everything he had. He’d always enjoyed the more upbeat dance styles, they were much easier for someone of his short stature. Because he was so small, he struggled with the more lyrical and graceful styles- he only really enjoyed ballroom due to being partnered with Janus, he had no idea how dancers like Roman made it look so easy. This routine, however, was more up Patton’s street- it was extremely fast-paced and incorporated elements of jive with lots of kicks and leaps- it was probably one of Patton’s favourites he had ever danced... it would be great if all this impending anxiety and dread could just give it a rest. Patton’s stamina had significantly improved since he started rehearsing this routine, although it still wasn’t anywhere near on the level of Roman’s, Patton knew that wasn’t the real reason his heart rate began steadily climbing towards the second half of the routine. He performed the final steps and beamed out to the audience as he struck the final pose, taking in the sound of applause with pride. But as soon as the lights fell all of that collapsed, and he sprinted off stage faster than he’d ever ran in his life.

Janus, Remus, Virgil and a few others were gathered around a chair waiting for him, each holding an accessory for his next costume. Patton dove into the seat, holding out his arms and legs as about six people swarmed his vision, and he felt his shoelaces loosen and his shoes fall off.

“Virgil, take off his bowtie!”

“Who’s got his hat?!”

“Put on that other shoe!”

“Careful with his makeup!”

“Tie it faster!”

“Hurry up!”

“We can’t stall the music much longer-“

“Five seconds!”

The only coherent thought Patton managed to have throughout this process was “I don’t think I’ve seen anyone tie shoes so fast in my life...” When he was in it to help one of his friends, Remus always pulled it out of the bag. Tying dance shoes at hyperspeed was apparently one of his hidden talents.

A tap on the shoulder from Janus signalled to Patton that he was ready to go, and as he arrived in the wing ready for his next dance, looking himself up and down to give his costume a final check, it dawned upon him that he was actually early. He strolled out onto the stage, beaming with pride, ready to dance his heart out once again. Before arriving in his position on stage, he locked eyes with Roman (also in this dance) for a split second who grinned at him and seemed to say “you made it!” And Patton grinned back. Transforming his outfit in twenty seconds, mastering the art of telepathy, Patton seemed to have achieved it all on that night. What had once seemed impossible, helped by his amazing friends, somehow, he had managed it. And now, once again, he was doing what he loved, performing amazing dance routines on a grand stage. Patton had never felt more on top of the world...

Upon return to the dressing room, Patton launched himself at Janus, babbling words of thanks into his shoulders. Janus merely said.

“Don’t mention it, Patton. It was my pleasure to help you, my love. I couldn’t have asked for a better dance partner these last few months.”

Patton beamed up at him.

“Me either. I love you too.”

Janus suddenly looked as if struck by an idea.

“You know what you deserve?”

Patton tilted his head to the side, giving that damn innocently curious look he’d given all those months ago when Janus had first taught him the waltz, when he’d first fallen in love with him. He gave the smaller boy a fond smile.

“Pizza.”

Patton’s face lit up in a bright smile and he began clapping his hands together at some impossible frequency. Then his face fell a little.

“Aww, Janus that’s such a sweet idea, and I am a little hungry but I don’t think we’re allowed to-“

But it was too late, Janus was already phoning the pizza place.

“Hello, can I place an order please?... could I have two margaritas, two vegetarians, one with ham and pineapple... for the tasteless gremlin over here,” Janus mumbled, giving Remus a derogatory glance, “and...” Janus placed his hand over the microphone to call across the dressing room

“Hey Roman what kind of pizza do you want?”

There was currently a full-scale operation going on across the room to get both twins ready for a dance, Roman turned away from the mirror for a second to shout “Pepperoni please!” before bolting it out of the dressing room towards the stage.

Janus picked up the phone again. “And one with pepperoni please. Oh, delivery address... uhm... you can just bring it to the theatre foyer. Yes, the theatre. Yeah, the big one in the town square. No, this isn’t a prank! I just want pizza!”

Patton chuckled into his sleeve as Janus began to look frustrated.

“Thank you, have a nice evening.” Janus hung up. “Should be here in just over twenty minutes... that should be basically straight after the show finishes.”

“We’ll have to get to the foyer quickly, then.”

“We’ll work something out-“

“LOGAN HELP I CAN’T GET MY SHOE ON!”

“Remus what the hell do you mean?”

“I CAN’T TIE IT UP THE LACE HAS SNAPPED!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S SNAPPED?!”

“I MEANT WHAT I SAID! LO YOU’VE GOTTA HELP!”

“REMUS KINGSLEY I FUCKING SWEAR TO GOD-“

Patton and Janus watched the commotion unfold as Logan took the lace out of Remus’ shoe that was indeed completely snapped in half, while Virgil watched helplessly.

“How the fuck have you done that?!” Virgil asked.

“Lecture me later, this is kinda time sensitive!” Remus yelled. He was somehow never ready for his dances in time, despite him having much fewer of them compared to Roman.

“We’re about the same size, just bloody take mine,” said Janus, throwing his left shoe across the room while Patton swore he heard Virgil say “yeet” under his breath. Logan caught it and gave it to Remus, before going to sit in his chair and lean his head against the mirror while pinching the bridge of his nose and taking deep breaths. Janus couldn’t help but laugh at this while Virgil helped Remus tie his laces before he raced out of the room, now wearing one of his own shoes and one of Janus’. Patton laughed out loud because now he could rest easy, with only a couple more dances to go and the promise of pizza afterwards, and the knowledge that he just did something he once thought to be impossible.

Next chapter

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monstersandmaw · 4 years

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Yup. Part One. This absolute monstrosity quite literally grew wings and took on a life of its own, so yes, there will be a part two shortly, and it will be NSFW.

I shared the mood board/aesthetic for this over on Discord and a couple of people said they were excited, so I hope you enjoy it! It's set in Old Trollbridge, and you may pick up a passing reference to another character whose story was set here... Let me know in the comments if you remember them... Thanks also for your wonderful and enthusiastic feedback on Winter Solstice Chapter Five!

Contents: former school bullies, reader with a very slight potty-mouthed internal monologue, being physically attracted to someone(s!) that you didn't like intellectually/emotionally, watching said people kiss/be physically affectionate, the old 'oh no we've been paired on a project and will have to work together now or we'll get bad marks' trope, and some general growing up :) Wordcount: 5766

Chunky preview:

Winding up at the same university as the two biggest dicks from high school would have been - trying - enough, but to end up not only in the same department but also in the same damned classes was just downright cruel of fate. And yes, that was absolutely the right word for them.

The University of Old Trollbridge was known for its academic excellence in all areas, from cutting edge medicine to more traditional approaches, and the centuries-old institution was a bastion of learning, with places hotly contested. You’d nearly run herself into the ground in school to pass the right exams to get here - to leave all the pettiness of high school behind and finally start over - and here they were. It was going to be exactly the same. You could feel it. They’d worm their way to the top of the hierarchy again, and everyone would worship the ground they touched, and it would all just be awful.

“Fucking hell. This isn’t happening,” you cursed, watching the familiar and very particular hue of the naga’s dark green scales as he slithered across the entrance hall of the history faculty building, his muscular tail rippling with a million iridescent, deep emerald green colours. The atrium wasn’t exactly flooded with light, so somehow he looked like a living shadow.

People watched him; everywhere he went, people noticed him. He was probably one of the more famous undergraduates the university had had in recent years, what with his family’s ancient bloodline and apparently endless bank vaults, and his brief but extremely successful stint in modelling. The fact that the naga and his best friend (and almost literal sex god), Iltho, had gained a place was not all that much of a surprise to anyone, but you’d hoped they wouldn’t have chosen the same flipping department as you for their undergraduate studies. Not that they could be accused of paying their way in; for starters, the university had not accepted that kind of thing for generations.

No, they were both beautiful and unbearably smart too.

It was indecently unfair.

Your lip curled. Just as you’d been about to turn away, your roommate caught up with you. You’d put down that you didn’t mind who you were put with - gender or species - and for once, you’d actually lucked out. Rachel was an extremely talented spell caster, and, from what you’d seen of her in the first two days of your acquaintance, extremely tidy. “What’s up?” she asked, smiling up at you from beneath a thick curtain of vibrant, pastel pink hair. She was also about a foot shorter than you.

You jutted your chin at the naga.

“Oh my god, that’s… wow. I didn’t know we had a celebrity in our department!” she giggled, elbowing you playfully in the side. “Gods above… he’s gorgeous. It’s sinful. It shouldn’t be allowed. How am I supposed to concentrate in Old High Runic if he’s sitting there looking like that?”

“He’s also a massive cock,” you snorted. Fucking ‘Drake Shimmerscale’. Even his name was a giant cliche. Fancy noble lines with their fancy stupid names.

She tilted her head curiously. “You… know him?”

“Went to school with the bastard. Him and his best friend -” you cut off, eyes widening, as a second figure strode out of a doorway and exclaimed loudly. “Fucking… speak of the devil.”

“That’s a bit harsh,” she said, her eyes also locked on the newest arrival. It was easy to see why she’d thought you’d been referring to his appearance; his skin was a deep, ruby red, he had enormous, black, curved horns, a blunt-ended tail, and the bat-like wings that hung down his back looked like they’d been dipped in dark ink at the tips. He was also built like a bull and turned heads wherever he went, and here was no exception. Of course, the incubus would have to keep his ‘influence’ under control while at the university, but that didn't mean he didn't just naturally exude sex appeal anyway. Six-foot-something tall, with long, black hair that he usually wore pulled back into a thick braid studded with golden beads, he had flashing golden eyes and a mouth made for kissing.

Everyone had fantasised about being with him (and/or Drake) at school. Iltho had looked twenty-five since the age of fourteen, and acted like it too. Confident, cocky, quietly arrogant, also filthy rich, and stupendously intelligent, there was nothing that Iltho didn’t have. Really, the duo had made a striking pair, with the milk-white of Drake’s skin and the heated crimson of Iltho’s, their gemstone eyes of yellow and green, and their aloof personalities. The pair had ruled the school without having to do so much as lift a finger. They’d also done nothing to stop the lesser bullies posturing and vying for their attention. ‘Popular’ they may have been, but they’d also been about as liked as a Nightmare at a slumber party.

“No,” you said. “It’s not harsh. They’re both awful and they made life hell for the rest of us.” And with that you turned away, heading for the library.

You fumed as you stalked along the corridor and up the stairs towards the department’s ancient library. Yours was, appropriately enough for the History Faculty, one of the oldest buildings in the university, and it was absolutely everything you’d ever hoped for or dreamed from Old Trollbridge. The sheer aesthetic of it was mesmerising. Taking a huge, deep breath of the slightly musty air as you stepped into the library, you tried to put the pair of bullies out of your mind. This could still be your fresh start, surrounded by fragile parchment and vellum, leather spines, ancient oak tables, and the vague tingle of magic in the air.

There were wards in the ceilings to syphon off excess ambient magic in places like this, and as you let your eyes roam up and follow the conductive brass rods embedded in the ceiling, you nearly crashed into one of the long trestle tables that had been placed in a remote alcove, lit on one side by a huge, leaded, arched window and framed on the other three by bookshelves. As if fate had chosen you a place to settle down, you stared at the empty space for a moment before deciding that this would probably be your study spot for the rest of the year. It was right at the back of the library, and seemed out of the way enough that it wouldn’t be on the regular stamping ground of first years looking for the standard texts. It was also open enough that it probably wouldn’t be sought out for… other activities. The stacks, with their dark corners and endless shadows, seemed much more appropriate for that.

Yes. This would be perfect.

And you wouldn’t have to think about them here either.

Gods, even trying to get the thought of them out of your head prompted a flare of hot ire. Iltho and Drake had been inseparable at school. Class A bullies who just stood there and let everyone else spar and jockey for the dubious honour of being their latest minions and underlings, letting their wealth and, in Iltho’s case, ‘charisma’ carry them through. Half the school had been in love with them at one point, influence or not. And yes, even you had admired them from a distance. Rachel was right - they really were absolutely fucking gorgeous. Both of them. And it fucking sucked.

An hour later, a shadow passed in front of that beautiful window and you glanced up as someone halted beside your table. “That’s a familiar sight,” a deep voice chuckled.

Your stomach dropped and you felt your face fall with horror before you schooled it into something a little more acerbic than you’d ever managed in school. Funny how a few months’ internship abroad over the summer at one of the world’s most prestigious historical institutions could change everything. You hardened your eyes and noticed the way he watched you.

“Iltho,” you said flatly as you cricked your neck to look up at him. “You're blocking the light, but I can’t tell if it’s your wings or your ego that’s obliterating the sun. Would you care to move?”

Read the whole thing right now, as well as all the Mermay 2020 posts (five in total, including extra artwork), a surprise, nsfw ‘ghost lover’ story, all of Winter Solstice up to the current chapter, a new multi-chapter vampire story, the mlm werewolf story, plus everything that’s been posted already on Patreon!

#exophilia #incubus #male incubus #naga #male naga #incubus x naga #incubus x naga x reader #naga x reader #incubus x reader #part one #patreon only #monthly story #patreon monthly story #poly #poly exophilia

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sunsetelo · 4 years

Text

I'm Scared

Word count: 1466

Summary:

10K misses being a kid. That is all. Enjoy the angsty fic with family dynamics.

⚠️TW// mentions of suicidal thoughts and brief descriptions of blood⚠️

10k hated feeling weak. When you're the youngest out of the group, it's hard to act strong. They expect so much from you because they expect that you act like an adult when you're still traumatized by the world around you that stole your youth at a young age. Ten Thousand was scared even though he looked calm on the outside. No one knew that battles he fought constantly with himself. Not even Doc.

Warren and the others had found an abandoned cabin to stay for the night and Murphy had just thrown another "temper tantrum".

"Come on Warren," Murphy sighed. "This place looks very questionable. Can't we stay at a four seasons or something!"

"Just be thankful that we don't leave you tied up to a sign naked." Doc replied with a smirk.

Normally 10k would give a soft chuckle or a slight grin but lately he hasn't felt 100%. He was only seventeen, just a kid and he needed a break. His feet were numb, his face was pale (well more pale than usual), and his dark circles seemed to be more prominent under his eyes. He felt selfish for wanting to take a break because he figured everyone was just as tired and miserable as he was.

For once he was thankful for Murphy's bickering. It landed them at a pretty ratchet but decent place to stay and oh God, he needed a nap.

"Okay everyone pair up and scope the place for any puppies and kittens," Warren directed, "10k, Doc, you head upstairs, Addy, Murphy, and I will take the 1st floor."

10k followed her orders and headed up the rickety wooden staircase. The journey was silent as the pair searched the area. Doc headed into the right side of the floor while 10k entered the other side. He quickly opened a door that revealed a child's room. The place was trashed but some things remained on the wall: a picture frame of a family. A little kid, a boy around ten was hugging his father.

10K missed his dad. He missed a lot of things. The hunting trips, the boat rides to the middle of the lake, him showing his dad a picture that he drew and his mom hanging it on the fridge. God, he missed her. Her raven hair always smelled like vanilla and lavender. Her smile was brighter than any star in the damn solar system. Her voice was soft like a cloud and sweet like honey. Her hugs warmer than any blanket. He missed her homemade pancakes and waffles. He'd give anything just to be with them again.

10k was too lost in his head that he didn't hear the voices shouting his name.

"-10K! HEY KID!"

His head shot to the door where the banging was coming from. That was odd. He didn't remember closing the door. He went to open the door but the knob was jammed.

"Hey! I'm fine, Doc!" 10K shouted through the door, "the door is jammed! I'm going through the window!"

"What? No!" The older man yelled in protest but it was too late. 10k was already halfway through the window.

10k scaled down the house very slowly. The wood was rotting and if he wasn't too careful then he would fall and breaking a bone would not be fun. There were wood chunks poking out of the walls. He used them as a ladder to get down. He was five feet from the ground when he thought he was gonna make it but a glass shard pierced his hand, causing him to wince and break whatever leverage he had onto the side of the cabin. He fell into some dead bushes and curled up into a ball.

All he could feel was the burning pain in his hand and his racing heart. Tears wielded up in his eyes and that's when he officially broke. His breaking point was getting a small shard of glass in his hand and falling barely 5 feet into a pile of twigs and dead leaves. Weak. Was all he could think. He just wanted his mom. He just wanted to be held and be told that it was gonna be okay but it's not. He was scared, broken, and weak!

He didn't even feel the hands on his shoulders until they tried to break him from the fetal position that he was sitting in. He assumed they were Z's and for once he was willing for them to take him...

"10K, what happened?" Warren's voice calmly asked the sobbing teen.

"I- I fell and got g- glass in my hand!" He cried while still trying to pull away from everyone.

Addy and Warren were in shock. They rarely see him cry, especially over something so "minor". He has been through worse so why so upset over this?

"Hey, 10k, "Addy cooed, "can you please sit up and let us look over your injuries?"

10k didn't want to. Not because he was scared of getting the glass removed but he just didn't want to get better. Maybe an infection would be an easier way to go out. Maybe if they left them there he could finally sleep and maybe some hungry zombies would find him and feast on him in his permanent sleep.

"I- I can't do it anymore," he croaked out.

Doc and Murphy soon came running out. Doc was getting worried due to them taking so long and Murphy was getting impatient and hungry.

"What is taking the kid so damn long?" The blue man snapped. "Tell him to walk it off so we can eat already."

Addy and Warren both snapped their heads at the blue asshole who seemed to grow concerned after seeing the teen rolled up into a tight ball on the ground with blood dripping from his hand. He quickly scooped up the kid and brought him to the cabin and set him on one of the more decent couches.

"I did that because I'm hungry, not because I care about you."

10k eyes were clouded with too many tears to even give a shit. The warmth felt nice anyways.

The other rushed in while Doc fetched the first aid kit. He quickly was at the kids side with a cloth, tweezers, alcohol, and a bandage wrap. Addy is stroking his raven hair while Warren is wiping the tears from his pale face. Doc silently works on the boy's hand and pulls that glass out flawlessly. 10k doesn't even flinch.

10k was out cold. Warren draped a blanket over the sleeping teen while Doc and Murphy got started on dinner.

While he slept, everyone had a conversation about 10K. They have never seen him this vulnerable and small. It hurt them.

"God, I forgot just how young they are."

An hour after eating Doc forced himself to wake up the kid. He looked so peaceful and relaxed but the last time any of them ate was yesterday morning.

"Hey Kiddo," Doc said, "I brought you some stew."

10k buries his head into the blanket as Doc shakes his shoulders.

"Come on, you need to eat." He sighs.

"M' not hungry."

"Bull shit," Addy calls from the other side of the room.

Warren and Doc huddle around the teen. "Listen Baby Boy, I know what happened to you up there. I went into the room and saw the pictures and they made me feel sick to my stomach too. I get it. You're just a kid and you shouldn't be going through any of this and we often forget that. You are the strongest, most brave kid I ever met."

10k thought that falling was his breaking point but no, this was. He began crying as sobs left his mouth. Warren cradled her kid. 10k was her kid. She always seen him as a son. Doc viewed him the same way but 10K just couldn't see it. He couldn't see the found family that he made right here.

"I'm scared."

"I know."

10K wrapped around Warren like a koala bear and put his face into the crook of her neck. He would often lay like this when he was younger with his mom. He was seventeen now and the familiar position brought comfort to the teen. He became drowsy once again and before sleep overcame him he whispered one last thing.

"Love you, mom."

Warren stroked his hair and kissed his forehead. "Love you too, Baby Boy."

Not my best work but it was an old drabble that I needed to finish that accidentally turned into a vent fic. Also not really edited because it's late. Oops-

#z nation #10k #fanfiction #found family #family dynamics #hurt/comfort #whump #angst #fluff

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my-fanfic-library · 5 years

Text

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [30]

Masterlist

~^*^~

Slowly, as if completely hesitant to, you opened your eyes. Renfield was centimetres away from you, looking left, down to the end of the alley where he stood. The look on his face was unmatched. He was standing with his hands in fists, head a little lowered with his eyes peering up. He looked animalistic.

“Dracula.” Renfied stated quietly.

“How many more times are we going to have to go through this? You can’t have her.”

Suddenly, Renfield’s hands were on your throat, cutting off your oxygen almost immediately. You gagged at the feeling, hating the way suffocation began to override your mind. At the movement, Dracula moved forward. He couldn’t afford to hurt you and he knew that Renfield wasn’t going to give you up without a fight. Your heart was pounding wildly and both vampires could hear it. It was making one hungrier than before, and the other angrier. You didn’t want to die like this. Your eyes darted to Dracula and he froze up at the look in your eyes.

“Dracula...” your voice was so small and weak, it matched how you looked forced up against the wall with his hands around your neck. Tears were streaming down your face. This needed to end.

“Hold on darling,” he whispered and pulled his phone from his pocket. Both you and Renfield watched in confusion, “I’ve got her.” He spoke into the phone, “I’ll meet you back in my apartment in about five minutes. This won’t take long.”

“What makes you think she’s going with you, Count Dracula?” Renfield called. Dracula lazily places his phone to the ground.

“Because there’s two vampires here, one wants to eat her and one doesn’t. [First], you aren’t ready to become someone’s supper quite yet, are you?” You shook your head as best you could given that his hands were wrapped around your neck, “see?” He gestured to you.

“It doesn’t matter if she’s ready.” Renfield narrowed his eyes, “she’s mine.”

“How amusing.” Dracula took another step closer, “you don’t truly believe that, do you?”

“It is the truth!” Renfield hissed.

“Alright,” Dracula began softly, “shall we conduct an experiment?”

“What kind of experiment...?”

“We put her between us, and see who she chooses.”

“I’m not a damn dog, Dracula!” You interjected.

“Let’s see, shall we?” Dracula ignored you.

“Okay.” Renfield stepped back, pulling you with him. He leaned forward, “you take one step towards him and he’ll watch my teeth take your head right off your body.” He warned quietly.

You gulped and nodded. He pushed you forwards and you stumbled a few steps. You were now between the two men, but noticeably closer to Renfield.

Your eyes locked with Dracula’s. God, you were so angry at him, but you wanted to run to him.

“Go on, call her.” Renfield challenged.

“[First], darling,” Dracula complied, stretching his arm out for you, “come to me.”

You turned your head, looking at Renfield. His eyes were daring you to disobey him; to find out what would happen if you moved towards Dracula. You couldn’t move. You were frozen in terror and then you were looking at Dracula, unable to make your way towards him. Your brain was screaming at you.

“[First],” he said, a little firmer, “come here.”

“...I... I can’t...” you whispered.

“Yes you can, sweetheart, come to me.”

He was growing impatient. Why wouldn’t you just move towards him, away from Renfield?

“I can’t,” you whispered again. You were trying to convey that if you moved, you would most certainly meet your doom. At last, the realisation dawned on his face.

“It’s okay, darling.” He softened the look in his eyes. He needed to get you out of here. Renfield was closing in on you again, “stay right there.” He warned, “don’t go any nearer to her.” Now, Dracula was moving forward.

Renfield’s hand wrapped around your wrist, and you whimpered at the contact.

“Drac-“ you cut yourself off, not knowing what to do now.

“You lawyers are all the same, aren’t you? Never listen. You all believe that you are right, that you are doing what’s just and honourable - the truth is that you are all just as corrupt as the rest of us, if not more. You make me sick. Now remove your hand before I do it for you.” You watched as Dracula rolled his sleeves up a little higher past his elbows.

Oh god.

This wasn’t going to end well.

“Please,” you whispered, mostly to Renfield, “let me go.”

“Only when your blood is drained.”

You knew that there was only one way out of this. Only you could break free - literally - from this situation. Renfield’s nails were digging in to you. Dracula was prowling forwards. You sent him a look, a look of utter desperation, your courage trying to push through. He could melt. You were seconds away from death, yet you were trying to be strong.

Mustering up your courage, you suddenly sprinted forwards, pulling yourself free for a moment. Only a moment. Because his nails tore through the flesh on your arm, breaking the skin, making blood suddenly gush out. Even Dracula almost lunged for you as the scent of your blood exploded into the air.

Renfield had you within an instant, pulling you into him, throwing you over his shoulder and rushing deeper into the alley. Your thrashed under his grip, but similarly to Dracula, his grip was deathly.

“Drac!” You screamed, stretching both your arms out for him.

Dear God, please please PLEASE let him get to you!

Dracula wasted not one second, racing after Renfield, who was pushing trash cans and other debris in his wake. However, the taller of the two was easily jumping them, gaining quickly. You continued to kick your legs, feeling your blood trickle down to your finger tips. Your arms ached as you reached for Dracula. His entire face was etched in panic and worry. You’d never seen such emotion on his face.

He wasn’t going to let this scumbag take you away from him.

“PUT HER DOWN!” Roared Dracula, pumping his limbs. You were sobbing and he was beginning to worry that he wouldn’t get you.

Renfield, in an attempt to get away with you, began scrambling up the wall. His sudden lack of grip caused you to begin to slip and you screamed out. You heard a strangled “no” from Dracula as Renfield pulled you higher up and you began to slip from his grasp. You were looking down at the ground as you were hauled up. You could feel yourself slowly beginning to dip down, body weighing over his shoulder. He stopped halfway up the building, looking down.

“Afraid of heights, Count Dracula?” He called, pulling you back over his shoulder and starting his ascent once more.

Dracula was looking up, then around. He began to scale the building opposite and you didn’t know what his plan was. He was a faster climber than Renfield (most likely due to his many years of practise) and was easily reaching the same altitude.

He was constantly looking up at you, worried you were going to fall. You were mortal. If Renfield let go of you now, you would plummet to your death. But, his plan kind of... teased that fate...

You were sobbing, panic making your heart thunder. It was hard to draw in a breath, and you tried to focus on Dracula who was doing his hardest to get to you.

Then he called for you.

“JUMP!”

It was the adrenaline - there was no other explanation. You did exactly as he said, using your legs to vault you off of the side of the building. Your stomach dropped with the sudden realisation that you were falling and building a lot of momentum. You heard Renfield scream out, and you were nearing Dracula. Then... you were still falling. He’d missed you.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Shit.

He jumped himself, manuvering his body mid-air into a diving position. You were screaming for him. Just a little closer... a little more...

His arms wrapped around you and he pulled himself into you. You were still falling for a few seconds after he initially got you, and then his hand quite literally forced its way through the wall and you were hanging. His other arm held onto you. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck as you sobbed into his chest.

“I’ve got you, darling.” He breathed, “I’ve got you.” He looked up at Renfield, who was looking down in shock, “I told you she’d come to me!” He called up. And then he dropped.

You landed and he was running. As he did, he scooped up his where he left it. You clung onto him, unwilling to move a muscle. Renfield would most definitle be back. Dracula hated the sound of your crying. He hated that he could smell your blood, so fresh, and it was then that he realised you were soaking his shirt with your blood. He made it a few blocks away from where he had found you. He pulled you into another dark space and set you down on the floor. He kneeled before you, taking your face in his hands.

“Darling?” His voice was so soft, a little hoarse as if he’d been crying.

You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your lips into a line. Tears were still streaming down your face. Your wrist was throbbing with pain. His thumbs gently wiped away your tears.

“Are you alright?”

Nodding your head, you tried to focus on breathing. Dracula removed just hands, taking your wounded wrist. You were bleeding.

“Listen, [First], I’ve got to... get rid of this.” He told you gently, “or Renfield will find you easily. Do you trust me?”

When you didn’t answer, he used his free hand to make you look at him.

“Give me express consent to clean you up. You need to trust me with this.”

“I-...” he had just risked everything to come and get you before Renfield could harm you. He had bitten you only once, and had never physically hurt you since, “I trust you.”

“Good girl.”

He bowed his head, inhaling the aroma of your blood. Nothing compared to the smell, and the taste... he had never forgotten it. The first lick against your skin and he was gone. His grip tightened just a little, and he had to create a mantra in his head to will himself not to hurt you. Your blood kindled on his tongue. Specs of your memories burst in his mind and with every, long, slow stripe of his tongue against the deep gash, he found himself sinking into the ecstasy that your blood gave him. It was sweet, it was goodness, just like you. No ounce of hatred, or of malice like most peoples. And maybe because it was yours, it tasted even better.

His groan wasn’t suppressed and when he looked up after licking you clean, he found your head rolled back, as if it wasn’t your arm he was licking. He chuckled.

Your body had gone limp with a sudden exhaustion. After the events of the day, you wanted to sleep. Dracula pulled you up into him, carrying you bridal style back to his apartment. Upon bringing you in, Jack was at Dracula’s side, placing a hand on your forehead to make sure you hadn’t suddenly got sick due to such an influx of stress.

In all honesty, Jack had prepared himself for Dracula to come back an announce your death. He didn’t know how the vampire had managed to grasp onto you, but he was so fucking thankful.

“I’m going to put her to bed.” Dracula spike, testing to see if Jack would prevent him from doing so.

“Yeah, she’s had a long day.”

No complaint. No defence. Nothing. Had it been under different circumstances, Dracula would have smirked in his triumph. But you had gone limp in his arms and he could feel your body burning up. He really hoped that Renfield hadn’t managed to somehow turn you with the deep gash - the Count didn’t feel like tearing another being up for a while.

You crumpled into a ball the moment Dracula placed you on the mattress. He didn’t stay with you long, opting to find Jack waiting for him in the living room. He took his phone once more and sat down next to the young male.

“What are you doing?” Jack inquired.

“I’m going to be taking [First] away for a while. I’ll bring her back for the holiday season.”

“You can’t just take her-“ Dracula looked how from his phone, the blue light illuminating the underside of his face, giving him a sinister glow.

“Would you prefer for Renfield to show up again and succeed in drinking her blood?”

“I... no.”

“Well then. Leave it to me, I’ll find somewhere nice for her. I’m not going to drag her to some deserted village in the middle of nowhere.”

~^*^~

Jack left after another half an hour. He told the vampire to keep an eye on you, as your body had a tendency to shut down in the aftermath of intense stress. It was nice to know this information, but how would the vampire know if it was simple shock of if you were turning? Jack didn’t have an answer to that. Dracula was glad for him to leave. He wanted to spend some time to recollect himself. It had been a whirlwind few months and tonight had pushed him over the edge.

His feet carried him back to the bedroom. You hadn’t moved an inch from where he had left you, and you didn’t stir at all when the bed dipped and Dracula lay beside you. There was a terrible heat radiating from your body. He sighed, wrapping his arms around you. Normally, your warmth would comfort him, but you were like a furnace. It was too much. But Dracul held you close. It had been too long since you’d been in his arms.

Burying his nose into the crook of your neck, he took in your beautiful scent. Soon, you’d be out of here, and maybe you could be safe for a while.

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