#have mercy I'm still figuring out how their hair work..

[precious-little-scoundrel]

|| Radio ||

Requested plot points? ☑️

Circa: early February 1944

Immediate previous fic: Favorite Escape

Summary: when your hodge podge radio won’t work, who should ya call? Probably the flight engineer

Warnings: usual universe warnings apply, 18+ but nothing very alarming really happens in this one, references to others are made, some potential slut shaming in the beginning if ya squint? perhaps some queer baiting but it’s the Buckies rolling around on the flooor, they’re one massive queer bait lbr, it’s not me. Also. My shit Crystal Radio making descriptions- don’t come for me I haven’t made one and I spent five hours falling down a rabbit hole as to how the guys made them in the camps and at the end of the day I said: screw it! And went with one of the Brit’s scenarios 🍻

Edited only by my tired little eyes, full warning and have mercy 💋

Also, just a note I feel compelled to make- this fic centers around women in the army, in a war, which they’re spending under dire conditions in a POW camp. Yes there is love here, there is also hierarchy and discipline and the enforcement of that does not make one character or another necessarily callous or less loving. They are their ranks first and foremost as all signed up for.

“They’re forging papers, you know.” Maureen broached the topic to Egan one day, late February and when her cheeks were still bruised from Ida’s book.

Bucky paused his tracing of a map, sooty finger trailing along a river with the same incomprehensible name as its twin running parallel, he didn’t know anything about papers or anyone making them and she knew that. “Who?”

“Good ones. Identification, passports.” She enumerated.

“Who?”

“The Poles. The ones with the-“

“-the liquor.” he finished for her, remembrance and condemnation heavy in his wry tone. “The ones you stayed out all night with.”

“Stayed long enough for them to get drunk enough to show me.”she replied, without heat, which was surprising.

“Some grand plan of yours, huh?” He bit back a laugh, it was a fine way to cover her ass for being insubordinate. It was a way he’d likely try if he was in her place.

“No.” she swore instead. “Just luck, I happened to see them. They got careless. Maybe an answer to all Jack’s prayers.”

“Yeah. Anything to give that rosary a break.”

“Yeah.”

“You asked them?”

“What for?”

Bucky regarded her with thinning patience but something kept him from snapping, the feeling of a riddle still to be solved. “For some papers.” he clarified, measured and intent, she knew how much easier that would make their plans for Ida.

Maureen shook her head, glancing down at her twisting hands, “I didn’t want to-“ her mouth twisted too, “-I wanted to ask a superior first.”

Bucky considered that for a moment, slightly touched at her newfound wisdom, “Why not ask Buck?”

She shook her head again, auburn hair curling under her chin just so, even here in the stalag she had some traces of the old charm. “He’s got too much to worry about for me to be bringing in hypotheticals.” she was so upset by something she would not even meet John’s eye and he felt a slice of remorse for how he hadn’t even noticed the ground down change in her since she got here, his drinking buddy and the soft fleshed rival of merry old English days was a gruff and battered and sullen woman; being a red blooded American male, he regretted that dismal change. “And I'm worried about what to bargain with. What can I promise? We haven’t got much and I don’t have— there’s not much anyway, but what we’ve got I didn’t wanna promise. Not without-“ she still hadn’t met his eye, he tracked hers; a furious roving of pale blue back and forth across the floorboards and it made Bucky itch.

“Who signs these papers?” Bucky asked, thinking the logistics through, knowing she’d perk up if he brought them up.

“Haven’t a clue. Maybe they haven’t figured that part out yet. I don’t know. I just know they’ve got papers.”

“Good ones.”

“Yeah.”

“We haven’t got much.” he agreed, clicking his teeth in thought, “What’d you give them for the liquor?”

“They just invited me.”

“Didn’t have to lend a hand or nothin’?” he balked and Maureen threw him a glare that seemed more hurt than rage, and chastened by a voice inside that sounded much like his mama’s, he amended with sheepish humor, “Hell, feel like lending a hand myself these days, if it’d get me a whisky.”

Her gnarled fist curled white in her lap, she managed hoarsely, “They just wanted to talk about home. To someone who hadn’t heard about it a million times before.”

“They got cigarettes?” he asked.

“As most common payment for their booze -they’ve got enough to insulate their shack three deep.”

“Cigarettes won’t cut it then.”

“I’ve been thinking.”-

“Yeah?”

“The radio. I’m the only one who doesn’t think it’s worth the risk but, I know, it doesn’t matter, it’s happening. Gale’s going to keep trying. And if it works-“ she rubbed at her eyes, tired and unsure, “-that’s quite the bargaining chip.”

Bucky nodded slowly, eyes narrowing as his smile grew a touch broader, “News of the outside world.” he was half in agreement, “Buck asked for a week. Been four days.”

“He’s stumped.” Maureen retorted instantly. “And he’ll stay that way and he’ll go nuts and you’ll go die going over the fence and then he’ll have no reason left not to die too.”

Bucky whistled, low and chiding, “You’re full of rainbows today, Candy.”

“You know who he oughta ask.” she shook off the barb. “But he won’t. And I don’t want him risking it for this thing anymore than anyone else, but you all want it so bad, and they’ll shoot us for it if it works or not. I’m not asking her. But you would. Might as well get shot for it working, right? Isn't that what you said yesterday? You know who he should ask.”

Bucky’s keen eyes showed the moment it dawned on him, his eyebrows shot up and his mouth sagged and he ran a weathered hand over his face, “Awww shit, Candy.” came garbled behind his palm. “Ah shit.” he said again with conviction as he shoved the hand into his pocket, wretched acknowledgment of her point clear on his face.

“I didn’t want to suggest it, told Ida it’s a fucking dangerous thing and I’ll never forgive if— but you all—“

Bucky grounded aloud, “Nah, nah she’s -Lu would solve it.” he muttered, shushing her. “Demarco really pummeled you the other day, huh?” he added, and that got her to meet his eye, she looked spooked and a little incensed, “Saw him fuckin’ you up behind B compound but sheesh, s’like he hollowed you out worse than a jacolantern; yer shifty as hell.”

“He-“ Maureen still felt like blanching at the memory of Benny’s terribly correct opinions, his disappointed eyes and his fist full of her flight jacket asking her what in the living fuck was wrong with her besides a concussion, a sick childhood and an ever nauseating jealousy of Buck Cleven’s paternal time and effort, “-he had some admonitions. After…after the other night.”

Bucky hummed, shitty smirk taking up residence on his face, “How ‘bout that.”

“I’m gonna be better.” she muttered and Bucky felt for her, could almost taste the echo of his identical and hollow determination to climb the mountain of bad habits when weak from spuds and pneumonia. He told himself the same every morning and fell into bed condoning his failure every night, like a ritual.

“You’re gonna get us those papers.” he corrected, shoving off the wall to come near her, give her the full Major treatment and maybe a friendly hand, “And you can promise your drinkin’ buddies news from the radio.”

Maureen nodded in understanding, no joy or animation left in her green eyes. She used to enjoy a bit of subterfuge, now she only felt hollow misery at the thought that she'd dragged Lu into this, too. This risk she hated so much and yet no one cared. Lu would be glad to be dragged in, it’s true, she was itching at the chance to be useful and to make Gale proud, it’s how the girl was wired. It’s how most girls were wired, Maureen supposed, desperate to make Gale Cleven approve. Lu’s enthusiasm wouldn’t make the sight of her being made to kneel in the mud and have a bullet put in her head any easier, wouldn’t make Maureen feel any less responsible for it when her lifeless body thudded to the earth.

All that lovely goodness stamped out.

Over a radio.

Bucky’s hand felt too hard and too big on her shoulder. He had gone before the vision cleared, mud and wire and the freezing main square at Ravensbruck fading back to the musty bunk room. Maureen shook herself and stood up to make herself somehow appealing, reamniante some semblance of the cheerful rashness that had led her to the Polish combine in the first place: she found it hard to inspire. She’d like to count that a victory but she knew better, she wasn’t reformed she was just tired.

A washed face and a fake smile and the promise of news from outside would have to be enough to bank all their risks on, it would have to be.

“Crank,” she greeted the man in the hall, flashing him clean, water brushed teeth and her gentlest, freshly soot lined eyes, “I’ve been tasked by Major Egan with an errand, spare a minute to babysit me?”

__________________________________

Bucky finds Buck Cleven in his own bunkroom, Demarco outside on watch and that’s all Bucky needs to know to guess the radio is out and Buck’s working like a fiend yet again to make it work. Sure enough, he’s hunched over the table with it, mittened hands shaking from cold and exhaustion and a sheen of sweat on his forehead despite the paltry sweater he wears.

Bucky walks in and Gale gives him a soft, acknowledging glance before continuing to his work. Bucky takes up his usual place behind Buck’s left shoulder to watch and Buck, being used to it, goes on.

“My little Kriegie Marconi, huh?” Bucky allows the nagging impulse he has felt for weeks while standing in this position to finally exert itself, and his forefinger lifts and swirls in the curling gold strands of hair at the nape of Gale’s neck, his friend almost bolts away but then seems to choose a prey’s tactic and just stills, goes very still and Bucky scritches the scalp beneath his grab in assurance he don’t meant anything by it. He doesn’t think he does, at least.

Gale, wary and with a voice close to mechanized it’s so stilted, inquires with ever-present politeness, “You alright Bucky?”

It’s better than that whole ‘major’ business; getting called Major as if that meant shit anymore. “Yeah, ‘course I am.” Bucky rakes his fingers through the hairs there at the nape of that dainty neck, scritches the scalp with all four of his main ones, and uncovers a white long scar sliding round once he lifts the hairs there. “Why wouldn’t I be? Gonna be a father soon.”

Buck does jerk then, away from his touch and wheeling his chair around to glare at Bucky; it’s an impressively executed little pirouette and John misses the feel of his warm neck and oil soft hair. “Jesus John.” he reprimands.

“We’re gonna get outta here Buck.” John swears, he’s so sure of it because he cannot in all his thinking and predicting ever imagine a scenario where they don’t, and he chooses to think it’s not delusion but a good omen. “Ida’s gonna have that baby and when it’s safe we’ll all meet up.”

Gale is looking at him like he’s his own father again, Bucky knows that look, it always makes him equal parts ashamed and desperate, “Jus’ like that.” Gale mocks in a husky gust.

It’s devastating, and it’s intended to be, and Bucky could bear that with better humor if he could still touch Gale and his hair. “Just like that.”

Gale hums and it’s a mean sorta vocalization that makes Bucky’s heart thud and his skin prickle hot, it’s the kinda noise you kiss off a person, he thinks, but it’s Buck and so he doesn’t know what to do with it. “It’s gonna get you killed.” Buck is saying instead and Bucky lets him, “I know you all think she’s cracked up and maybe she has but it wouldn’t hurt to listen to Kendeigh sometimes when she’s tellin’ ya shit that a five year old could accurately guess, -goddamn it.”

His voice rose to a strong rage by the end and Bucky takes a chair opposite him, sick of standing there like a dumb dog waiting for his scolding to be over. “So what.” Bucky challenges him, “We just wait around and Brady pops out a child and the krauts let us keep it and it’s our new mascot and we all sing zippidy doo da, huh? Huh, Buck?”

Gale’s hands fell away from his face with a slam to the table, a shocking degree of anger showing for a split second and it gave Bucky an odd degree of gratification. “I jus’ want you to find a plan with better odds.”

Bucky sniffed and leaned forward, went in for the kill and Gale was looking at him like he expected it, like it was his turn to play daddy to everyone here and Gale for once was so beaten down he wouldn’t just allow the changing of the guard, he was close to angry at its lateness. It made Bucky’s heart thud.

“I’ve been listening to Kendeigh.” Bucky refuted briefly, “And we’ve got a plan.” Gale gave him a tired look of encouragement to go on, “How long’s it been since you slept? Huh, well, we got a plan. Practically perfect, or it will be, just need the radio.”

“Ain’t giving this away.” Gale said, “Not for anythin’, even useless.”

Bucky patted the table top in easy assurance, if he could have reached Buck’s thigh, he’d have patted that instead, “No, no, don’t need to give it away, just need it to work. So,” he softened his voice and his eyes tightened, “I’m callin’ Lu in.”

Oddly, Gale does not fight it. Not aloud, at least. There’s an anguished look of hate on his face and Bucky mirrors it. It’s for this place and the fucking awful choices they have to choose from every goddamn day.

“You run this by Ida?” is all he asks.

Bucky pops his flaking lips audibly, “What, need us both gangin’ up on you to agree? She’ll sign off. Smith’s an officer. Gotta remember that sometimes, Buck.”

The way his Buck swallows hard and dry contradicts his words, “I do remember that.”

“Really?” Bucky’s mouth gives a soft smile of doubtful incredulity and Gale’s mimics it, mournful but a smirk all the same, “Feel like she should answer to ‘Gale’s Baby’ these days. Lieutenant Smith who?”

Gale scoffs, “Careful now.”

“No really, she’s an officer and she wants to be treated like one. It’ll do her good to have work. Her kinda work.”

“Could get her killed.”

“Layin’ in her bunk could do that.”

Gale grunts, its sounds like an agreement.

“So I say Lieutenant Smith gets put on radio detail. Like her goddamn job description suggests. Huh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Gale lets out a shaky agreement.

“Aaaaand,” Bucky draws it out as he rises again and saunters over to Buck who is ready for him and loose this time, “how bout I go back to bein’ the one you’re frettin’ ‘bout all the time. Got me almost jealous of the girl. How ‘bout I do. Huh?”

Gale’s scoff is fond as anything as he looks up at John with cheerful derision, “And you ‘bout to be a father? Make me an old man? Fuck no, ya looney.”

“Alright.” Bucky concedes with hands up in surrender before lurching forward and grasping Gale’s rickety chair back by its wobbly spokes and hefting it partially off the ground, beautiful and outraged prude of an occupant still seated in it, “Then I’ll play daddy and put you to bed, how ‘bout that.”

“John Egan for fucks sake-“ Gale’s fists pounded on the meat of his shoulders and his outraged protests wafted against Bucky’s neck and his jabbing knees collided with the meat of his thighs and Bucky hadn’t felt so close to him or so happy to be alive since England.

“Major sir, the hell is goin’ on?” Demarco’s tame inquiry from the safety of the doorway made them both lose their grapple and they collided together onto the floor, bunk bed barely missed by their heads and the hapless chair mixed up between their limbs.

Bucky grinned, hip sore from his fall and kidneys suffering from Buck’s trapped elbow there, “Puttin’ Goldilocks to bed.” he replied.

DeMarco processed that and the scene before him with grave sobriety before saluting lazily and turning to go, “Right on, sir.”

John did his best to rise up without further pinching Gale who was indeed trapped beside him and beneath him, chair legs wound between a lanky human leg in a puzzle that Bucky realized might take some caution to untangle without harm. Strangely, Buck wasn’t moving, he was just looking up at him like a cat would their clumsy master who has done somethin’ stupid which was a surprise to neither. It was so innocuous a look and so nostalgic, it winded Bucky with the realization he hadn’t seen it in ages, just as he hadn’t felt his boney ribs against his own and the feel of his elegant hands yanking him around in a fight. This miserable place really was stomping out the glow in the best people.

“Ya know Buck,” he ventured, clearing his throat for extra casualness, “I’ve missed you.” When Gale only kept looking up at him, perfect porcelain face with its unsettling scars and wary eyes without a lick of storm in them, John Egan grabbed his shovel and dug his own grave a little deeper, drug a finger down his cheek. “Missed all this.”

Bucky didn’t know what he meant by “this” but it felt safer and worse all at once, since he did miss Buck but he and Buck never used to hang out on floors with a chair as chaperone. Mercifully, Buck neither points that out nor moves away, acting very much like he needed to heaped on the floor with Bucky and a stray chair every bit as much as John did. Like it’s doing him good.

“And you couldn’t’ve jus’ said.” Gale murmurs with the softest eye roll of the century and Bucky feels like beaming and it must show in his face so strong and bright after a sunless winter that after a flash Gale’s cheeks flame from it and he averts his eyes.

“I dunno Buck, could I?” Egan asks one blushing cheek and Gale hasn’t got a good reply for that, so they just lay there on the floor.

“Go on now, get off me.” Gale doesn’t shove at him, he presses his hand to John’s forehead like he would a dog and John goes, obedient as one.

———————————————————————-

They found Lu with Murph and Benny and Brady, measuring out what seemed to be lot lines between Love Shack #9 and the next combine, boot scuffed perimeters already visible in the light snow and drawn in a decently tidy rectangle. There were guards loitering nearby, nosey as always with their cigarettes and their antsy dogs anytime someone did something out there besides piss or pace or stare at the fence.

“What’s all this?” Bucky inquired cheerfully, coming up to them with Gale, bundled and shivering behind him.

Benny looked up from tilling a furrow with his boot, right where Lu’s mittened finger pointed out. “It’s for the garden. S’posed to be spring before long.”

“A Chicago man oughta know better, Benny.” Egan snarked.

“Need us?”

Bucky sniffed, a casual set to his body that belied his quest, “Just the little one.”

Smith promptly looked startled, then eager. “All well Majors?”

“Need your advice on the color of my cufflinks with this suit.” Bucky extended his arm and beckoned her, “C’mon back in for a minute. One of you too, need a watch to go with the cufflinks.”

———————————————————————

With Benny on guard, Brady and Kendeigh having excavated the radio’s shell from the floorboard and table leg in which it resided, the Buckies stood over Smith’s small frame as she sat at the table and inspected the simplistic device with keen eyed appreciation for the construct.

“It’s really marvelous.” she assured Cleven, running her fingers over the carefully coiled wire and precarious pin.

Gale didn’t even crack a smile. “What’s wrong with it?” he asked instead.

She shook her head, a frown gathering. “Never made one-“ she cautioned.

“-but you get the idea.”

“Yes sir, I do.”

“So what’s wrong.”

Lu ran her fingers over the wire, again and again, the dusty metal not insulated, just bare copper, likely stripped from somewhere. It reminded her of early days as a cadet when they threw chicken wire mixed with hydraulic lines at herself and her fellow rookie engineers and told them to sort it, testing to see if they knew which was which. It had been so rudimentary she had wanted to laugh until she realized others were being flunked.

This was so basic she was stumped.

“Take your time, Lu.” Bucky spoke up after a burdened pause during which she could almost feel Major Cleven breathing down her neck.

“Candy, can I try with the headphone?” she asked at last, frustrated and out of her element, just a few months out of a plane and she had already lost her touch.

Maureen passed it over and Lu pressed it to her ear, not to discern what was quite obviously radio silence, but to imagine the whole process in reverse, track it down the cord all the way to the base, each possible breakdown of the conduction.

She fingered the ramshackle diode with burgeoning suspicion. “What’s your crystal?”

“That’s just…lead.” Cleven muttered.

“From?”

“Ground pencils.” Bucky supplied cheerfully.

Smith bit her lip, “We need sulfur added. Lead won’t conduct on its own.” She figured Cleven knew that, the grim and unmoving set of his mouth suggested so.

“Just- sulfur?” Maureen asked.

“If I had sulfur we could add it to the lead dust, ignite it and-“ Smith grinned at Kendeigh, knowing that she alone may have shared her enjoyment of a small conflagration from time to time, “burn it down and you’ve got something close enough to Galena. Just need a pinch of it should work.”

Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets and surveyed the mostly morose room. All except for the two girls grinning at each other over the hypothetical of a little chemistry experiment in a highly flammable wooden combine.

“We’ve got sandy soil.” Buck’s contemplative drawl spoke up, “Dunno if we could extract enough pure sulfur.”

Maureen stared back at Egan instead, “Other sectors have gotten portions of kits, chemistry kits, radio kits, they’ve been smuggled in with all sorts of stuff. Inside of a violin, oat bags. Nothing to fully build something. They might have sulfur. I could make inquiries and- well, Jack could pick it up next time the band goes over C compound to entertain the poor Aussie bastards.”

“How do you kno- nevermind, actually. Nevermind.” Bucky broke off, “Alright. Sure, why not. Ya sure that’s it?” he asked Lu once more.

She gave a helpless little shrug. “Gotta be. Or the wire’s dirty. Where’d it come from anyway?”

Gale gave Bucky a long suffering look as Bucky seemed to swell a couple inches and bounce back on his heels at the mention of his scrounging prowess. “The lamp.” he nodded above them all.

Jack Brady scoffed, short, clipped, betrayed, “That why it cuts out all the time? Strobed us so bad last night -thought the room was possessed.”

“Sacrifices Jack, sacrifices.”

———————————————————

Benny had hauled in enough water buckets to elicit some negative attention from the guards, and when the inspection came the inmates of the Love Shack insisted the drenched floors and table of the Majors’ barracks were due to sanitation post regurgitation. At night, with only one stolen torch light from Combine 15 to illuminate the endeavor, a basin of water beneath a smaller bowl in which lay their precious and recently procured ingredients, a science experiment began. The Majors and Ida gathered round, all looking as ghastly and spectral in the light of the flashlight as Brady’s fake ghost. It held the thrill of a bonfire night except for the stakes, which all in the room did their best not to dwell on.

“Zippo, Candy.” Lu gave the word and Maureen, with only the protection of Ida’s bent aviators to keep from a scorched cornea, flicked on her lighter and set the mixed powders ablaze.

It flamed up high and smelly, making Benny gag and mutter something about Meatball’s gas to a tittering Brady, and then died down to a yellow smoking ember.

“We should let it sit.” Lu surmised with a squeeze to Maureen’s only somewhat singed hand, her big dark eyes surveying the burnt bowl and their smoking experiment with glittery excitement at the possibility of success, “Let it cool, settle, maybe strain it. Can you get me a net? Oh Candy come now, get me a strainer?” she begged with a laugh as Maureen rolled her eyes at the idea of yet another trip to the Stalag Market for the most random items imaginable. If they hoped to not be suspicious, they’d need better lies or more money.

“How about cheesecloth?” Kendeigh tried not to grin indulgently- and failed- in the face of Lu and having recently been allowed to set something on fire

Lu kissed her cheek. “Cheesecloth would be perfect.”

In the end, cheesecloth did indeed prove perfect, and amongst the burnt dust of the combined minerals was a gritty little pinch full of the needed crystals. Or so Lu said, Gale agreed but the crease between his brows hadn’t lifted for two days; Bucky’s fingers had begun to twitch in antsy need to manually smooth them out. He imagined Maureen felt the same but she hadn’t said, uncharacteristically forbearant now she had some job to keep her sane. Even if it was playing fetch for Lu.

—————————————————————

“Well, this is it.” Gale muttered when the watch had been set once more, Murph and Hambone on the steps, Crank inside, Brady at the door, Benny at the window. Even Major Clark had joined them in the barracks for this final try and Lu’s cheeks were maroon from the attention even as her deft hands steadily pressed her concoction beneath its intended rod.

“Pass me the pliers, sir?” She asked and for a moment, the teacher became the apprentice and Gale fetched her the stalag forged tool, rudimentary like everything here yet the gripped and pulled and lifted same as the pliers back home. “You could check your look in this wire’s reflection.” She complimented Gale’s buffing of the copper wire.

He shrugged in turn. “Didn't wanna leave anythin’ to chance. That it?” he asked as her hands stalled and she surveyed her work.

Lu nodded solemnly. “Yes sir.”

Gale picked up the headphone from in front of him on the table like it was a gun he was about to bring to his head. “Here.” He extended it to her instead, “S’right, it was your job, you should be the first. Cmon.”

Despite her voiceless protest he pressed the headphones into her hands and Lu, never knowing how to disobey an officer, folded immediately.

For a good ten seconds everyone in the room held their breath as Smith pressed the headphone to her ear and gently wiggled the clothespin along the wire, searching and tuning, her face holding that old peaceful concentration they hadn’t seen since the last mission. She was at home with her mind tuned to another dimension. The pilots in the room knew that look, that was the look of someone at home with something that terrified them all the same, the gut swooping feeling of clearing the take off and sledding along the tops of the clouds. Wrong and strange and utterly incomparable to others, it was the closest to home one’s mind could be. Lu belonged somewhere on those electric currents and searching them out was like finding oneself again.

Then at last, Lu’s eyes sharpened out of their dreamy haze of concentration and she said, gentle as always, “It’s the BBC sir.”

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[ashwhowrites]

can you pleaseeeee write something like this but for robin? instead, it's just steve who keeps interrupting them. 💀 "damn it dingus you really need a girlfriend."

also, thank you so much for taking time out of your day to always post such amazing works for us to read 🫶

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Interuptions

Robin giggled as she dragged her girlfriend into the video store closet.

"You're on the clock, Buckley" Y/N teased, but doing nothing to stop her girlfriend's wandering hands.

"Just a few minutes, Steve will survive" Robin said, her lips kissing the sweet spot on Y/N's neck. Y/N gave in, shivering as Robin's lips moved around her neck. She stretched out her neck, giving Robin more access.

Within minutes the two were in a heated make out session. Robin had Y/N pushed against the wall, her hand under Y/N's bra. Y/N tried to quiet her moans as Robin played with her nipples.

The two jumped apart when the door swung open. Steve on the other side.

"I thought you locked it!" Y/N whispered harshly

Robin rolled her eyes and walked out of the closet, shoving Steve aside.

~~

Robin moaned as Y/N's tongue swirled around her clit. Her back arched off the bed and her hands were tangled in Y/N's hair.

Robin had no shame as she rode Y/N's tongue, whimpering and whining loudly. Robin loved when her girlfriend ate her out, she was skilled and knew how to make Robin melt into the mattress.

"Close" Robin choked out

"BUCKLEY!"

Robin panicked and threw the blanket over her girlfriend. Y/N under the blanket as she covered her mouth with her hand. She clenched her eyes shut, knowing if she kept them open she'd get lost in the sight of Robin's wet cunt. Robin pushed down her shirt and tried to look presentable.

Robin panted as Steve walked through her open bedroom door.

"Are you ready?" Steve asked, completely oblivious to Y/N hiding in between Robin's thighs.

"For?"

"I have a date and need you to be there In case I need to escape!" Steve explained. "Now hurry, gotta leave like yesterday."

Robin groaned as Steve walked out of her room. Y/N slipped out from the blanket, wiping her mouth.

"Maybe next time?" Y/N offered with a smile

~~

Steve was passed out drunk on Robin's couch, a long night of partying left him unconscious.

Robin waited until Steve began to snore before she got up. Walking as quietly as she could to her bedroom. She creeped in, Y/N was rubbing lotion on her legs. Her hair was still wet from the shower and she only wore a towel.

Robin closed the door behind her, a smirk on her face as she crawled on the bed. She pushed Y/N's wet hair to the side and pressed kisses to her naked skin.

"Smell amazing" Robin hummed, her hands easily moving down to Y/N's thighs. Y/N felt herself getting turned on as her girlfriend rubbed her thighs. Robin inched closer to Y/N's cunt. Using one finger to slide up and down her cunt, Y/N shivered and whined for more.

Robin took mercy on her and sunk two fingers inside her girlfriend. Y/N let out a low moan as Robin's fingers moved inside of her, Y/N clenched around her.

"Yeah? That feels good?" Robin cooed in Y/N's ear.

"Fuck, Rob" Y/N moaned

Robin smirked and slipped in another finger.

"Rub your clit for me, baby" Robin demanded. She picked up her pace, fucking Y/N harder as Y/N played with her clit. Y/N threw her head back as she circled her clit, her brain fuzzy as Robin's fingers hit every spot inside of her.

"I need to cum" Y/N whined, rubbing her clit as fast as she could as Robin fucked her.

"Right there!" Y/N gasped, "there fuck"

"ROBIN I NEED TO PUKE!" Steve's loud voice cut through the room. Both girls groaned with frustration as Robin removed her fingers.

Robin dropped her forehead against Y/N's shoulder.

"I'm going to kill him" Robin growled as she got up, slamming the bedroom door behind her.

~~

Y/N and Robin were tangled together in Y/N's sheets. One place they figured they could escape from Steve. Their clothes were scattered on her bedroom floor.

Robin panted as she moved her hips against Y/N's thigh. Robin's bare cunt easily move against Y/N's skin, the pressure was perfect against Robin's clit. Y/N held Robin's hips in a bruising grip.

"That's it, Roby. Ride my thigh like a good girl" Y/N teased, her lips in a smirk as Robin shuttered at the nickname. Robin smashed her hands on the headboard, right above Y/N's head.

Robin rode her thigh desperately, chasing the burning orgasm she needed for weeks. Her skin was drenched in sweat and her thighs began to shake.

Y/N's phone by her bed began to ring, but both girls ignored it. Y/N kept her focus on sucking marks on Robin's skin, and Robin could only hear her breathing pick up as she got closer to her orgasm.

The phone rang again, Y/N picked it up and slammed it down right away, ending the noise.

"Gonna" Robin choked out

"That's it, cu-"

"RINGGGG"

Robin huffed and kept her hips moving as she reached for Y/N's phone. She chucked the whole thing to the floor, yanking the cord out of the wall.

Both girls sighed with relief as no more sound distracted them. Robin thrashed on Y/N's thigh, her cum soaking Y/N's skin as Robin cried out. Robin rode out her orgasm, her hips jolting as the pleasure became painful.

Robin shivered at the sensitivity on her clit when Y/N gently pushed her off. She pushed Robin on her back and moved between her legs, Robin shuddered as Y/N's tongue flattened in between her folds, licking up all the cum that ran down Robin's cunt.

Y/N jumped as a loud bang landed on her front door, over and over. She quickly threw on a robe and walked to her window.

"It's Harrigton" Y/N laughed

"He seriously needs to get a girlfriend," Robin said as she rolled her eyes.

[shoyoist]

ﾟ+* ꔫ — 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 : hanma shuji.

content: f!reader. bad toman!shuji. mentions of murder, blood and violence. use of guns and knives. some sort of mutual pining. work partners to fwbs to lovers kinda thing. you fuck on the hood of his car that's parked in an alley, you suck blood off his fingers, he licks blood off your body (not your own). unprotected sex, fingering, biting, body marking, shuji's a little crazy v_v.

word count: about 4.0k

— . ｡˚ ♡ when kisaki gives hanma a little ‘birthday treat’ by sending him on a hunt for some traitors, he makes you go with him as a leash. and hanma decides he wants to have a little more fun, with you.

an: i'm terribly late but here it is! happy birthday shuji my love.

the night is still — the sky dark, the moon blocked out by the heaviness of the clouds, and the expanse overhead stretches like a void, consuming all that lay underneath.

the sounds of the city fade further away, giving way to the clack of your heels and the thud of hanma's shoes against the asphalt with every step you take away from the main streets — following him as he turns wildly around the final corner into an alley, and you both at last make it to a safe place.

you stop just short of bumping into him, and the scent of sweat and drying blood, mixed with a familiar hint of cigarettes and men's cologne, invades your senses with your next breath.

you taste rust on your tongue, at the back of your throat, and now that you've stopped running, the smell and the taste remind you of how badly you've both just fucked your mission up.

"you know what," hanma laughs, barely out of breath as he lurches to a stop beside his car, parked unceremoniously at the back of the alley, concealed by the shadows of the buildings and midnight gloom. "i take it back. kisaki knew what he was doing when he sent me out to work on my birthday."

he gives his gun a little shake, watching as it spews the last wisp of smoke from its mouth, before putting it back in his pocket and turning to you with a grin. "heh, that was the most fun i've had in a while."

oh, you know he had fun.

you've known hanma quite well for quite a while, even intimately so because you've fucked on occasion, but still — you think you'll never quite get used to seeing him like this.

his suit had been clean when you'd left headquarters earlier that night — it was a grey two piece, form fitting and accentuating his lanky figure, and it was as expensive as it was lovely.

but when you'd watched him in the warehouse, told to stand by on guard in case someone interrupted his little kill job, you'd witnessed how he dirtied it, how he got it covered in blood.

the sleeves were dripping red, his white dress shirt splattered with arterial spray — and you couldn't tell if it was his own blood or not that was trickling down his chin, as he slid his tongue out to lick it up.

"fuckin' shit, you are," he'd cackled, on his haunches over the victim of his hunt, as the man under him screamed for mercy. "think you can fuck my boss over and get away with it? i'll kill you. yeah? say my fuckin' name with your last fuckin' breath."

and when he'd gotten back up, his hair was tousled, black and blonde curls falling over lusty gold eyes as he threw his head back and laughed — tall and broad shouldered, with a long, freshly used blade in his hand and with his pale skin stained red with blood, he'd laughed.

and god, he looked so fucking hot.

but you can't focus on that right now. you're too busy trying to catch your breath, and though you're glad you've escaped safely, though he'd looked so hot playing his game of being a ruthless villain — the task you were assigned with was still ultimately fucked. "shuji, what is wrong with you?"

and instead of feeling remorse or staying quiet, hanma just laughs. again. "babydoll, i think we need to do this more often. you're getting out of shape."

"kisaki said—" you're cut off by your own coughing, and hanma rests a bloodstained hand on the small of your back as you bend down and brace yourself with your hands against your knees. "kisaki said keep things under cover and deliver the body to the harbor, not make a whole massacre out of one little kill job and then be all fucking careless and almost get shot to death by the other guy hiding under a fucking cardboard box."

"hey," he rubs your back, thumb catching on the red satin of your dress as he presses into it, trying to get a feel of your softness. "i didn't die. you saved me."

"you almost died!" you protest — "you nearly fucking died and you would be bleeding out through a hole in your head right now, had i not been there to shoot down that other man first. who fucking knew he was even there?"

"you did save me." he smiles. "two birds with one stone! now hush. you're being a little too loud."

right.

"and who knows how many other people know what we were doing there tonight." you mutter sourly, thinking of how much trouble you'd all have to go through to cover up all that had happened tonight. if you didn't send people over to clean the bloody mess hanma had left at the warehouse tonight, there would be no escaping things.

you'd lose a lot of cash, at the very least, bribing people to stay blind and mute to the murder. "someone ratted us out. there's more traitors around, shuji. there were more people coming. that's why we had to fucking run for our lives all the way till we got here."

"you're right, babydoll." he says softly, rubbing your back for you as you sigh — and you'd believe he'd finally snapped out of his adrenaline high and sobered up, if he wasn't using that petname on you. "we've got more hunting to do."

you glance up when you catch something glinting between hanma's clothes, and you notice that the knife he had used to slash his victim up was carelessly stabbed into the folds of his own suit—

something he'd recklessly done that you hadn't noticed, as he'd grabbed your arm and run off with you, thanking you in a maniacal fit of giggles for shooting down the guy that would've shot him in the back of the head and killed him, had you been too late.

he's crazy.

"fuck's sake. at least you had your fun." you sigh again, and hanma steps closer to you still, chuckling as he runs his fingertips lightly up your spine. "i did, baby. it's my birthday, remember? i'm supposed to have fun."

you can feel the heat radiating from his body even from here — it chases away the cold, lets you feel some of the fire that's burning in him. "take that stupid knife out of your poor suit."

"you mad the suit's ruined?" hanma pouts, and you roll your eyes at him.

"enough." you mutter, straightening back up and taking another breath.

the polished surface of the car gleams in the light of the street lamp buzzing across the street, as you walk over, squeezing into the narrow space between the alley wall and the car door to open the shotgun. god, he had to park the thing in a place like this, too.

"we need to get home quick. you're all fucking dirty, and you'd be in worse shape if i hadn't been here to haul your ass. kisaki sent me with you so i'd keep you from getting killed or caught red-handed."

"aw, come on baby." hanma coos, shrugging his shoulders as if to claim his innocence, watching while you lean uncomfortably into the car and pull out disinfectant and a clean towel from the bag under the shotgun seat.

he watches as you struggle, twisting your body and cursing under your breath as you work through it. he remembers — how you'd watched him cut that man up, how you'd looked so enamoured by his violence, so afraid yet excited all at once, as you'd listened to him talk and watched him gut the man like a fish.

he remembers how you had run up to him, almost losing your footing in those cute little heels of yours as you pushed him aside and pointed your gun behind him, the weapon already loaded and with the hammer pulled back as you pulled the trigger — and shot another man that had somehow stayed silently hidden behind the boxes at the back the entire time.

"fuck," you'd gasped, and hanma had seen the anger, the fear and the flooding relief in your eyes as the man crumpled to the floor. then, you'd been interrupted yet again by the screeching of motorcycle tyres outside. "we need to get out of here, shuji. now."

and hanma's cold, ruthless heart had fluttered. you cared for him, didn't you? truly.

aw, he had thought. she loves me!

oblivious to his stare, you squeeze back out and set the bottle on the hood of the car, reaching up to place a hand on his shoulder, turning him around and examining his condition.

half of his face is swathed in shadow, and half is bathed in the fluorescent light of the street lamp. you see the smatter of blood on his cheek, the stain of it at his lip and on his chin where he'd licked it away earlier.

there's drying blood all over his clothes, trails of it down his neck and spread over the white of his shirt, from when he drove his knife into the man's chest and it had cut a vessel, spraying blood all over him.

"take the jacket off." you say, and he does so.

the white shirt stretches across his shoulders, the buttons at the top undone to make it easier for him to move in the thing. the hem of it had somehow stayed mostly tucked into his pants the whole time, and the buckle of his belt shines gold as you looked down at it. his pants hug his legs, showing off his thighs and calves as he stands there, smirking down at you like he's reading your thoughts.

shit, he looks so good.

the round lens of his glasses flash as he turns according to your push, the edges flecked with drops of red — and when you reach up and take them off, his eyes glimmer gold, along with the dopey smile he gives you. "babydoll, you're my lil life saver, aren't you?"

his voice lilts with the words, and instantly, you know what he's trying to start. you say nothing, but the meeting of your eyes with his is all he needs to continue.

he towers over you, shadow falling on you and shielding you from the light as he draws closer. the thick scent of cigars, cologne and blood grows stronger, and you breathe it all in — and his smile widens along with the rise of your chest.

"shuji, wait." you try, but your tone is half hearted and you know he catches it. "i need to clean you up first."

"you're all dirty too, you know?" he hums. his right hand comes back up, still sticky and red with blood as he cups your cheek with his palm, lifting your face up towards his. "such a gorgeous fuckin' sight, when you're covered in blood and holdin' a gun."

it's true. right after you'd told hanma that you both needed to get out of there immediately, you'd fallen on your ass into a pool of the first man's flesh and blood. your arms, your dress and your legs were all dirty with it, and now with hanma's touching, your face is dirty, too.

"shuji," you repeat. "not now. we need to get back, report to kisaki, and send people to cover up the messes you made."

"that can wait, can't it?" he presses even closer to you, placing sin flat against your stomach and giving you a light push.

he coaxes you to sit up on the hood of his car, the metal cold and smooth against your bare thighs, exposed by the short length of your pencil skirt — and you almost fall against it as hanma pushes himself between your legs and lowers his face to yours, bending down so he can get a good look at your pretty face. "haven't had a taste of you in a while, doll. don't you miss me?"

his palm slides over from your stomach to your waist, fingers squeezing at your flesh over the fabric as he slides his palm higher up. "it's my birthday. can't turn me down just like that. that's mean."

"sh—shuji," you say, trying your hardest to sound composed but it's so hard when he's so close, so hot, and his voice is so low and delicious in your ear. "not here—"

"can't." he groans almost dramatically, hand making it up to your ribs before he slides his palm to your back, toying with the zipper that's hiding under the slit of satin at the middle of your back. "i can't wait. you don't fuckin' know what you do to me, huh? so fuckin' hot, all dressed up, covered in blood and bossing me around like you're my little wife."

and with a whirr of tiny metal teeth unhooking from eachother, your zipper is undone, and your dress hangs loosely at your chest.

"your hands are bloody, shuji." you protest, but your voice is reduced to little more than a whine — he's so hot it's overpowering. "can't touch me like that."

"suck my fingers clean for me then." he says, and laughs when you scrunch up your nose and scowl. he takes a moment to grab the bottle of disinfectant, pours some into his palm and lathers it over his hands and arms. the bloodstains disappear somewhat, but his fingertips remain red, skin and nails etched with blood.

wiping it off with the towel, he presents his hands to you again. "happy? now, suck them off for me, like you'd do to my dick." he doesn't wait for your answer, pushing his thumb past your lips and into your mouth, and you taste blood and disinfectant on your tongue— "mmph!"

"shhh, it's okay, baby." hanma chuckles, tapping your cheek with his index finger. "go on. i know you missed having daddy's fingers in your mouth."

fuck — hearing him call himself daddy makes you go weak. and he knows, god, he knows — you see it in the way his eyes darken, the way his grin widens as you curl a hand around his wrist and suck on his thumb, leaning into his touch. "that's it, there's daddy's good girl."

the edges of his eyes catch the light from the street lamp, glowing in a halo of gold as he watches you closely, letting out little groans of pleasure as you suck harder and harder.

he gives you another finger, and then another — and his other hand first pulls at his belt, unbuckling it and pulling it off, letting out a sigh as he then brings the hand over to your thigh. this time, it's punishment, and he slides it under your skirt swiftly, fingers tugging at your panties and urging you to lift your ass of the hood a little so he can take them off.

"'s my little doll gonna be quiet for me?" he croons, pulling the lace garment down and yanking it off along with your heels — you feel them slip off, hear the heels clatter onto the ground. "we're outside, aren't we? 'n even if we're alone, you're gonna hafta stay quiet. or do you need me stuffin' these panties in your mouth?"

"n—mm," you shake your head, trying to speak around a mouth full of his fingers, and he laughs, wishing it was his cock making your cheeks bulge like that, but he doesn't have the patience to play right now.

he needs his cock in your cunt.

"good girl," he gives you a smile, showing teeth as he presses into you, giving your pussy a quick swipe with two of his fingers to gather up your leaked slick onto them and pop them in his mouth for a taste. "mm, fuck, baby," he grunts, eyes rolling up as he exhales, hot over your neck. "so good. so wet for me tonight — y'like seeing me kill people, ah?"

"mhm," you moan, not even sure what you're saying anymore, more interested in the way he's pushing your legs further apart, fumbling with the zipper of his pants and pulling his cock out from within, the heady tip red and hungry to be buried in the velvet walls of your cunt.

"a dirty fuckin' slut, aren't ya? heh," he giggles, voice so deep yet playful at the same time as he slips his fingers out of your mouth, his other arm curling around your waist, forearm against your bare back because he's unzipped your dress already, pulling you in as he tries to angle himself right.

"shit, baby," he grunts, wet fingers going under your skirt to touch your pussy — digging through the folds and touching your clit before he's bringing them down to sink into your entrance. "move a little f'me? daddy wants his cock in you, doll. let me fuckin' get in there."

"hah," you gasp at the curl of his fingers in your cunt, warm, wet walls clenching around them and squelching loudly as you lean back onto your elbows on the car's hood, feeling it bend a little under your weight as you spread your legs further and wrap them around hanma's waist, dragging him in. "please, shuji — daddy, need it. hurry up, fuck."

"'m givin' it, doll." he moans, laughing hoarsely when he pushes his fingers in deeper and your pussy squelches again. "fuck, pussy's louder than your mouth tonight, huh? naughty girl."

he slips his fingers back out, lands a sudden slap on your cunt that makes you cry out, and laughs as he grabs his cock and strokes it, still caged into your body by your legs wrapped around his waist.

"daddy," you whine, and he moves in for a kiss, meeting your lips with his mouth open, forcing his tongue in your mouth and tasting the blood — and he chuckles into your mouth, brows screwing together as he tastes the bitter tang of disinfectant that followed.

you're really his little slut, huh? sucking on his fingers even when they tasted like that?

"shhh," he mumbles into the corner of your mouth, giving his cock one last pump before he bumps his head to your pussy, slowly slipping himself in. "i got you, baby."

the stretch is expected — you've had him in you more than a few times, but still, it's still fucking delicious when his cock slides into you.

you feel how your walls hug his length, sucking him in as you lay on your back on the hood of his car, legs spread out and wrapped around his waist as he slowly pushes himself balls deep inside, skin cold but body hot and heart beating so loud inside with him pressed to your body, his smell and his taste cloaking you along with the metallic odour of blood.

god, he's so hot — so, so hot — "let me clean you up a little too, hm?" he hums, voice breathy with pleasure as he kisses your cheek, feeling the smatter of dried blood on your cheek against his lips, and he puts his tongue out and licks at your face, sending shivers crawling up your spine when he moans into your ear.

"heh, so good, babydoll. all of you 's so good," he says, rolling his hips in and slapping them against your ass as he slides fully into you with a heavy chuckle that sounds so good you could cum just listening to it—

and then, he bites.

he grabs your hair, curls his fingers up your nape into your messy locks and pulls your face aside to reveal your neck to him — and he bares his teeth and bites.

"a—ah! shuji!" you cry, and he laughs, digging his teeth in just hard enough for it to hurt, for it to hurt so good, before moving his face back to see how his teeth have marked your neck. "it's halloween season, baby. you'll be getting bitten sooner or later, lookin' this fuckin' fine."

"mmm—more," you moan, pulling another string of pitchy laughter from him, followed by a low growl as he bites again, lower this time but still just as hard. "fuck!".

he starts to move then, knowing he's not going to last long with how you're fluttering around him, sucking him in like you're afraid he's about to get up and leave.

there's blood on your neck too, and down your collarbones, and he licks it all up as he pulls in and out of your cunt, filling the silent alley with muted slap-slap-slap sounds and your moans, your dress falling apart to reveal your tits to him — and as he watches them bounce with each slap of his hips into you, he thinks he might go insane.

your only warning is the sight you see, of his eyes going bright, gold and narrow with want—

and then he's got you shoved onto the hood right on your back, your head against the windshield as he grabs your waist and digs his fingers into the plush skin, leaning onto the car and telling you in a rasp, "fuck, hold on f'me, pretty doll."

then, his body offers the first snap — and his cock hits your cervix so hard, your head is knocked back along with the rest of your body — he has you seeing stars.

the night sky above, that you can barely see between the two buildings on either side of the alley, is pitch black — but hanma puts stars in your eyes with how hard he fucks you.

the hinges of the car's hood whine just a little under your shared weights, but you don't hear it — not over hanma's heavy breathing, his whispered fuckfuckfuckfuck as he gets closer and closer to his high, and your open mouthed gasps for air as each thrust of his big fucking cock in your cunt knocks your breath away.

his pace is so fast, so hard, it's incredible he has so much left in him after all that fighting and all that god damn running—

but he fucks you hard, big hands holding you pinned down as he uses you all up, dress bunching up at your stomach, and your zipper digging into your back as he sends you to heaven and back on top of his car, right in this stupid little alley with a dead man's blood still wet on both your skins and clothes.

"baby," he moans, sweat glistening on his brow, at his temples, as he struggles to look at you through the bliss. "gonna cum, gonna fuckin' cum."

"want it, shuji — fuck, inside, please." you beg, eyes rolled back into your head, back arching up as you try so hard to keep your orgasm away, because you wanna cum with him, not before him.

but it's impossible — each thrust sends a pulse of white hot pleasure into your veins, the head of his cock hitting your sweetest spots so well, digging into them and leaking precum into you as he nearly loses himself and collapses on top of you, blissed out before he even cums.

"inside?" he rasps. "want it inside like you're my girl? like you're my own little thing, my slut, my girlfriend, my wife?"

"i am—" your voice breaks with the next hit of his cock into your cunt, overwhelmed and unable to hold your high back anymore. "i am your girl— mmh, gonna cum shuji, gonna cum!"

"go ahead, cum f'me," he hisses, the words sharp and needy as he bends down to kiss you again. "make me cum too, yeah? cum nice 'n hard for me 'n help me fill you all fuckin' up."

"mmgh," you swallow, as he keeps fucking into you, and you're half afraid that there's someone around to hear you by now as you feel yourself slip, as you feel the first wave of your orgasm crash down on you and your mind goes blank.

your pussy tightens around hanma's cock, so tight and hot and wet, squeezing him in a vice — and when your hands finally come up from where they've been gripping the edges of the hood to try and stay balanced, to cup his face and pull him down for another kiss, before you wrap your arms around him and drag him ontop of you, he feels your body squish under his, and fuck, it pushes him off the edge.

"cumming—" he chokes out, and you feel the thick, hot seed paint your walls white a second after, as shuji tries his best to hold himself up over you, gasping out your name as he cums.

your orgasm milks him through, pussy eating all his cum up, as he falls still with his balls against your ass, dissolving into your frame and your embrace as he breathes, so tired but feeling so fucking good at the same time. "hah—shit, baby. so good. so—so fuckin' good, i love you."

"mmm," you whimper, as he kisses your neck, his hair in your face, his glasses getting smudged on your skin. you feel his cum fill your hole up and drool out, so much cum you can't even hold all of it in. "i love you, too."

the two of you lay there for a few minutes, catching your breath and pulling yourselves together — and then shuji says, "fuck. gotta get home now."

"would've been better if we waited till then." you grumble, feeling sticky and sweaty now that the euphoria is over.

"hah, no," hanma giggles, his cheek pressed to your chest. "much better this way, dollface. don't fuckin' lie."

"hmph," you huff, running a hand through his hair — and you feel how he relaxes into your touch, purring low in his throat as you scrape your nails at the nape of his neck.

"happy birthday, shuji." you sigh, and he chuckles, low and hoarse into your skin.

"thank you, babydoll. give me an 'i love you'?"

"i love you." you hum, tilting your head forward to kiss his hair — and you ignore the way he lifts himself up to stare at you and coo like you hadn't just said it minutes ago. "now come on, let's fucking go home, shuji. i'm tired."

"okay, okay. but — since it's my birthday and since you love me … you drive."

"shuji."

"fuck, fine. you're no fun."

and there's nobody to hear it, but if there were, then they'd hear two killers laughing together, huddled up ontop of a car in an alley in the middle of a late October night, after having freshly added to their body counts just that very same night <3

[rocksibblingsau]

Love love love ur ideas!!!!

Do you have any more headcanons for Mount Rageon Branch or Adopted by Bergens Branch?

In Mount Rageon Branch, Velvet and Veneer are still a lil self absorbed and looking for the easy way out of things. They don't wanna do any hard work, meanwhile Branch is all about hard work and doing things for yourself.

Branch sees them fighting over wanting fame and it reminds him of his brothers, so he makes it his goal to help them realize their dreams AND remain close. Since they'd be training from childhood, they'd have a better shot at learning how to sing thanks to Branch.

I can't decide if they actually do end up good singers but if they do, Branch is their manager and there would be a moment where post BroZone reunion they see Branch managing and have JD flashbacks. Branch doesn't get bad like John did about controlling their image, but the sight of Branch taking charge and giving orders for show prep really reminds them of a less than happy time of their lives.

Branch: Alright guys, we're gonna open with 'Fame' and close with 'Watch Me Work'. No, wait. Open with 'Sweet Dreams' and close with 'Fame'. Now go out there and make Mount Rageous history! Bruce: Clay I hope you're also an EMT because I think I'm having a heart attack. Clay: I'm with you bro, this is disturbing to watch.

If they don't go the singing route, Branch helps them discover SOME sort of skill they can make it big with.

They don't call him 'Branch'. Velvet decided his name had to match theirs so they call him 'Vine'. They think it's a funny name since he's always on them 'like a vine'. Branch doesn't really care what they call him as long as they stop rubbing his hair trying to suck out his "singing magic".

When Velvet and Veneer found out about Bergens, her solution was "Just stay with us at all times. I'll hold onto you like the last designer handbag at a flash sale."

If they did encounter a Bergen, Velvet would hit them in the head with her purse that weighs 10 tons.

In Bergen Branch AU, Gristle is ironically the excitable kid while Branch can barely muster any enthusiasm for anything. Some people joke that it's like Gristle's a troll at heart and Branch a Bergen. Gristle doesn't go as apathetic and listless as he does in canon since I believe the catalyst was Gristle Sr telling him nothing would ever make him happy. Since in this AU he was given Branch, he was told that Branch would make him happy, so he still has hope.

When they're older, Branch is a sort of sarcastic adviser to Gristle. Everyone's kind of figured out that even if you can get one over on Gristle, the troll on his shoulder won't be fooled and he does NOT show mercy. Gristle also takes his opinion in pretty high regard about pretty much anything.

Branch also gets pretty comfortable with his concept of mortality and he makes jokes about being eaten by Bergens constantly.

Gristle: I got another letter asking if they can buy and eat you. Branch: At this rate I'd be tempted to tell you accept all of them and watch their faces fall when they realize fifty other Bergens also get a piece. Gristle: Branch. Branch: A peanut sized serving of grey troll. Gristle: Branch. Branch: That'd probably be the one thing that could make a Bergen more miserable than you already are, if that's possible. Gristle: Branch. I'm not selling you to get eaten by fifty different Bergens. Branch: You'd be doing me a mercy and ending my suffering.

Gristle: Branch I need you to help me with the audit. Branch: *lays on his palm* Eat me. Gristle: Later. For now you have to help me. Branch: F***. Branch: Is this how you derive joy? Making trolls do your paperwork? You're the only Bergen in the world who would make me do taxes instead of eating me. Gristle: You complain too much and it ruins my appetite. Branch: Has any troll ever not complained? Do you think on Trollstice we were all jumping for joy? 'Yippie! Death!' Gristle: I dunno, try it next time and we'll see if it works.

This trait scares and unnerves other trolls. Poppy asks him to stop once they befriend Bergens because she's worried they'll take offense and "They're our friends now, not troll-eating monsters. That's in the past."

"I'd like it to be in the present so I don't have to listen to another musical number."

[serickswrites]

Unhand III

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

Warnings: referenced captivity, referenced torture, blood, wounds, burns, rescue, mcd

Caretaker spent the first week of Whumpee's captivity partially recovering. Every time they showed up to try and help the team in their search for Whumpee they were sent home.

"Caretaker, you were seriously injured, too. You need to rest. You'll be no good to Whumpee if you end up getting even more sick." Teammate Two had said as they pointed to the door.

Caretaker had protested, but it didn't matter. The whole team ganged up on Caretaker until they were forced to return to their empty house. The truth was it was hard for them to think--they're head still hurt and their body still ached.

But Whumpee was at Whumper's mercy. Whumpee had been taken because of them. Was likely being tortured because of them.

The second week of Whumpee's captivity, Caretaker dove head first into the search. The team had made minimal progress. It was maddening. There simply was not enough information.

They had checked all of Whumper's usual haunts. No one had seen or heard from Whumper in weeks. They had checked all of the remote parts of the city where Whumper might take Whumpee for some privacy. But Whumper wasn't there.

By the third week, Caretaker had rescued three other citizens were in danger, but none of them were Whumpee. They should have been happy they saved three innocents. But they couldn't be happy. Whumpee was missing. Whumpee was taken. And it was because of their stupidity. Not Whumpee's.

"Caretaker, these things take time. Whumper still has them. We'll find them. Whumpee is smart. They're probably working on a way out as we speak, " Teammate One said as the team prepared to stop their search for the day.

Caretaker didn't want to stop. They had to work around the clock to find Whumpee. Whumpee was being tortured! But the team needed sleep. Everyone had been burning the candle at both ends and it showed. The team had been running themself ragged hunting for Whumper.

As Caretaker drove home they made a promise to Whumpee that they would continue to look for Whumpee after they took a nap. Even they needed sleep. "I'm sorry," Caretaker said as they parked their car next to Whumpee's. Whumpee's was covered in dust due to disuse. "I just need two hours. Then I will go back to finding you. Please, forgive me," Caretaker muttered as they walked into their empty house.

Their home was painfully silent and cold without Whumpee. They never realized how much light and sound Whumpee brought with them. But as they walked into their darkened bedroom, fully planning on face planting into bed fully clothed, Caretaker realized just how much light Whumpee brought to their life.

Caretaker froze as they realized their bed wasn't unoccupied. "Whumpee?"

Someone, or something, lay beneath the blanket. It had to be Whumpee! They had figured out a way home. "Oh, darling, you must be so exhausted!" Caretaker flicked on the light and flipped back the covers. The unearthly scream that ripped from their throat did not compare to the shattering of their heart.

Whumpee lay on their back, their wrists still bound, this time in front with coarse rope. Their hair was matted and filthy, their face obscured by their hair, though Caretaker could see their eyes were open. Whumpee's chest and abdomen was littered with cuts and small burns--Whumper was a smoker Caretaker's brain helpfully supplied. But the thing that had Caretaker dropping to their knees, the thing that had them wailing into the night, was Whumpee's throat and the blood that still dripped from the second smile.

"Oh, please, please no!" Caretaker crawled to the bed. This couldn't be real. this couldn't be happening. But as they touched Whumpee's cold skin, brushing back Whumpee's filthy matted hair, Caretaker stared into Whumpee's lifeless eyes and knew that Whumper had made good on their promise to Caretaker.

"No. NO. NONONONONONO. PLEASE!" But no matter how much Caretaker screamed into the night, Whumpee's slit throat didn't reknit. Their blood didn't disappear. And Whumpee did not take a breath or smile up at them. Because Whumper had murdered them and left their mutilated corpse in Caretaker's bed. Just as they had promised four weeks ago.

Tags: @cpt-winters@thequestingbunny@bloopdydooooo@tiny-feral-arachnid-man@inscrutable-shadow

@bookworm7543 @lgcgjd @madmadder @mefattortoise @lthrboy

@st0rmm @whumppsychology @gala1981 @whumperofworlds @hiding-in-the-shadows

@artisticdemon @alluringleopards @orangeduckweed

[quiet-saint]

sᴛʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ!ɴᴇʀᴏ ʜᴄs

✮

With just a splash of Nero/gn!reader

Cw: slight nsfw/suggestive. Nothing serious just a toy is mentioned near the end.

A/n: Might be ooc as this is the first time I'm writing anything for Nero. Purely self-indulgent ngl. Already working on a pt 2 ft more nero/reader tbh, I just really like this idea. +18 pls.

✮

• Not a huge streamer but still pretty popular. Has been streaming on and off for like, four years before he got popular.

• There's definitely a compilation out there of his funniest gamer rage moments. The majority of the time Nero isn't even mad at the game, Nico purposefully annoys him whenever they play together. People love their dynamic.

• Has kicked her from the group but then she'll just watch the stream and irritate him in the chat. It's pretty pointless to kick Nico from the group though because she can and has come down to his room just to pop up in his live irl. Anytime this happens chat starts a 'Nico Nation' chain and Nero jokingly threatens to end the stream.

• People bring up his "pretty boy phase" constantly in which Nero's hair was longer and he wore jewelery, saying they miss it and he should bring it back. Nero's a little shy/embarrassed when people bring up his early streaming days but he is in the process of growing his hair out. You were the one to fully convince him.

• Loves interacting with his audience even though they're a little outta pocket sometimes. "Chat who the hell said they only watch my streams for Nico? Dude your name is literally–" squints his eyes in confusion and disbelief "Nerofeetpicswhen oh my gOD!"

• Plays more light-hearted, easy games most of the time. Plays fortnite but not often. Teams up on overwatch with Nico, V, and You (Nero gives mercy main energy don't ask me why)

• Will play horror games but gets jumpscared super easy. Curses a lot during those streams. Damn near shatters eardrums with his shouting.

• His favorite streams are when he has one of his friends there with him at home. Especially if it's you.

• Will do a stream as an excuse to have you over. "Dude I spent the weekend at your house just last week?" "Aw c'mon it'll be fun!" As if you really needed any persuading. It's nice to hear him beg though, isn't it?

• Gets so excited to tweet about it too. Lowkey giddy about it.

• Will be the type to say "can't end on a loss guys." Even though his rank is dropping.

• Everyone loves his wii-sports streams. Nero once broke his tv on live because he didn't use the wii strap while playing baseball. People still bring it up and he gets embarrassed because just moments before it happened chat was warning him.

• Had V over for the weekend once and they were playing wii tennis in his room but there wasn't enough space. As a result Nero ended up swinging hard and clocking V in the face, giving him a bloody nose. He still feels so bad for it. Especially because Nero gets tagged in videos titled "Nero hits V on stream NOT CLICKBAIT" V thinks it's funny.

• Nero gets so happy to do fanmail livestreams. Loves opening all the things fans send him. Displays art proudly on his walls as well as all the plushies and figures people send. By the end of the fanmail streams Nero is wearing a different, clashing outfit because of the clothing he receives.

• Although sometimes the packages are a little inappropriate.

• Nico once went through the trouble of ordering and sending a ridiculously huge dildo. He felt the weight and shape through the packaging and, due to the note left with the gift, Nero knew it was her immediately. It's still sitting in his closet in the corner because he doesn't know how to get rid of it.

✮ random bonus hc ✮

Nero drinks Monster. His top two choices are Pipeline punch or Ultra blue. If he drinks one on stream he'll say "monster sponsor me" lmfao

[soullessdianthus]

Soft!Bo Sinclair X Fem!Reader | Headcanons

>> PART 2

Author's note: Basically, how Bo's heart softened and spared you from death. And yeah I'm kinda fucked in the head for writing him this way, but HEAR ME OUT━ I consider doing a part 2 to extend the topic hihi (like, what life in Ambrose with him later looks like or smth + NSFW obviously), but these are my first headcanons, so please be considerate. <3

Warnings: it's a bit lenghty, sorry, canon typical violence, SFW (lot's of comfort)

Word count: 1.1k

Before your first "visit" to Ambrose, you and your friends set up a camp in the nearby woods - you were on a camping trip around Louisiana, for fun I guess or maybe during some break in your school/work

Bo watched your group from the tree line that night, he saw how poorly they treated you, how ignoring and demeaning they were towards you, why on Earth would you spend time with them?

He formed a strong opinion about those people right then and somehow took a little, tiny bit pity on you

When the car mysteriously broke down during the night, you along your companions took a walk to the small town nearby, searching the local mechanic

He was quick to find you, sitting on a pavement in front of a gas station

The man was charming, you admitted to yourself finally, especially when his bright irises traced your every step around the station

Bo looked enchanted, amazed by your personality, the way you talked, your appearance or all at once

But when some of your friends began to disappear few hours later, the true horror began

You stuck between the weirdly abandoned houses with two of your companions who were quick to seal your fate

They used handcuffs they found on the policeman wax figure to strap you to the metal pipe on the gas station - as a fucking offering to the killers chasing after the tourists

"Wh- THE HELL YOU'RE DOING?!"

"Creating a distraction I guess" they responded, trying to justify their actions, before running off, abandoning you to die alone

No matter how hard you struggled against the tube or the handcuffs, there was no way you could escape this without cutting your palm off

Obviously you wanted to avoid that option

And then, out of bloom, he appeared - dressed in a blue coverall, sweat drops shining over his forehead, tousled hair sticking to his temple - clearly running after your "friends"

Bo noticed you in an instant and a wide smile twisted his face - such a prize as you, being placed (offered even) in front of him like a gift? best day ever for our man Bo

And if you are considerably way younger than him, let's say early twenties - he would take an extra intrest in you (being more vulnerable for manipulation *COUGHS*), also extra points if you have daddy issues

Come on, this guy just wants to be worshiped by younger girl and tells her what to do, okay?

"My, my, what do we have 'ere?" he asked rhetorically, slowly lurching toward you "Little fuckers left ya behind? Tsk, tsk"

You froze in place petrified, but... he didn't seem to want to hurt you

Bo swooped your loose hair behind your ear, before carefully examining your form - all this time you stood still

Because what else could you do? You were immobilized, ffs

"Don't worry darlin', Imma take care of 'em, yeah? Just stay right here"

He placed a goodbye-kiss on top of your head, before returning to his "duties", the hunt wasn't over yet

So you stood there helpless, bound to the metal pipe outside of the gas station for God knows how long, wondering what will happen to your friends and what will happen to you

You took a peek inside the wax museum and soon enough you found out the town was in fact empty - there had to be a correlation, right?

Besides you saw the man with a weird mask and long black hair stab one of your companions in the neck - so the conclusion was quite simple

When Beauregard came back with a pair of tiny keys looped on his thumb, you gave him a merciful stare with glossy eyes, non verbally expressing the thought "please, don't kill me"

"You're a smart girl, ain'tcha? Gonna be good, yeah? That means 'no troubles', got it?" Bo spoke softly, his voice enchanting you with sweet venom

He unlocked the handcuffs and set you free, while you gently nodded your head, agreeing to being "good".

"T-Thanks" you massaged the bruised wrist, devouring feeling of "freedom", before he placed his big palm on your lower back

It was so warm

"Come, you must be tired, huh?" Sinclair guided you to walk along him, heading to the house on a hill

His house

Bo invited you inside, opening the doors and guiding you once again with his hand

If he only could, he would hold you, touch you, fondle your flesh all the time - you were fucking magnetic

You politely entered the house, feeling his presence on your back - at this point you wanted to punch yourself in the face for thinking that you're safe now, that he wouldn't hurt you - he probably just killed your friends

But the man took a weird liking to you, maybe it was your bargaining chip to survival?

It was already dark outside when Bo led you to his room upstairs

He caught a clean t-shirt from the drawer and placed it in your hands

"Why are you doing this? Why are you kind to me?" you kept your head down, fingers digging into the material of his shirt

There was a dead silence for a seconds before he responded

"Such a girl like you doesn't deserve to be treated like trash, yeah? You had shitty friends, doll"

You finally looked up at him

He was smiling, it was a gentle smile, a caring one

"Now, maybe we should finally rest, hm? It was a long day"

You did not protest when he pointed with his finger to the bathroom, where you could change into the clean clothes

Neither when he changed into his pajama and guided you towards his bed

The adrenaline and emotions from the whole day kept you on a constant survival mode - but of course, you thought about escape

Yet you didn't

Somehow you made it this far

But now you were lying in bed beside him, under one sheet

You tried to remain calmness, but the tears overfilled your tired eyes - you started crying, trying to remain as still as possible

But Bo felt your curled up form shaking and a few weeps could be heard though you tried to hide it

"Come 'ere" he spoke through the darkness of his room "come, sweetheart. There's no need to cry"

When you turned around to face him, his arm was already opened, inviting you into his embrace

And you foolishly succumbed into his touch

This should feel wrong, but it didn't

He was so warm

Bo brought you even closer to his chest, letting his heat radiate through you

Oh, to have him take care of you &lt;3

You melted into his touch and soon after fall asleep in his arms

Bo never wish for his precious girl to cry like this again

[territorial-tarot-tahr]

C.o.D smut

Word count: 6.3k

CW: Blood and general menstruation if that's gross to you, don't read it. There's self loathing but as a backdrop. Also explicit sexual content below the cut.

Summary: AFAB/Transmasc reader is in pain and Soap tries to help.

P.o.V: Second Person

Again, if you found my A03 from this, no you didn't. Shut up. This one's shorter and a bit older(4months?)than the prior piece. I'm also gonna be so real and say this was written as a mostly self indulgent piece so that's why it's stupidly corny.

No spoilers for any C.o.D game.

🚨Go to my main account "rorschach-retrograding-rotary" for requests or commissions. Or you can just toss something in the comments or something🚨

‼️🚨This was not proof read and I hate reading my work so I have no intention of proof reading it🚨‼️

Feel free to commission me or donate 𝕙𝕥𝕥𝕡𝕤://𝕜𝕠-𝕗𝕚.𝕔𝕠𝕞/𝕤𝕒𝕪_𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕖𝕤𝕖

Sweat seemed to find permanent residency on your skin, the ring around your neck was already evidence enough of that. Every second that you felt the uncomfortable ache, it seemed to cut open the scars along your chest again. People who needed to know, knew. People who didn't, didn't. Price and the medical team knew, but that was the extent. You figured the information was on a more need-to-know basis, and as such, only the aforementioned individuals and an otherwise small list knew. 

This list didn't include your 189cm, Scottish lover-boy. Whether out of fear of rejection, or attempt of denial by ignoring, you still hadn't gotten around to it. He'd yet to do anything that would make you think he wouldn't be alright with it, but it was still a risky step you weren't eager to take. You'd found yourself awoken in a disgruntled haze, hair coated in drool and some in your mouth as you blinked awake. A familiar coil of discomfort had knotted itself in your gut. With no heating pad, you'd simply dragged yourself off your cot and to the kitchen after a quick stop in the latrine, which had turned up a few painkillers that seemed to be taking their sweet time. You'd had painful cramps before, sure. But usually you had taken proper care to count and keep track of when to expect them, and as such, you were loaded up on preemptive painkillers.

You hadn't found yourself as prepared or lucky this time. This month you'd simply lost track considering that you'd been on a mission for around two weeks at the point and the focus had been more on whether you'd be alive in any given moment rather than when you'd start bleeding. Well, you reap what you sow. And now here you were, fighting your urge to double over and lay curled up on the floor till you passed out. At least the floor would probably be colder than the heat that felt as if it was stuck to your skin like a damp shirt. That was fair, your shirt was pretty soaked in sweat at the moment.

 Coffee cup after coffee cup seemed the easier answer than laying back down at the mercy of your already wide-awake mind. You couldn't wager a guess on how long you'd stood there waiting, time seemed to slip away from you. The small clock on the wall made a dull chorus of clicks as the second hand flicked by, and the 24 hour digital clock nearby clicked in chorus at every minute. Despite this, your attention did not drift to them, or the whirr of the overachieving air conditioner above, which did nothing to lessen your sweat. Instead, your attention seemed more than eager to slip away to your white-knuckled grip on the rim of the sink, a dish towel at each palm with cold water providing some relief. His hands were on your hips before you'd even realized he was actually behind you.

His breath was warm in your unwashed hair, and his calloused fingers had already begun to dig into the fabric of your shirt. Your forehead was against the cool wood of the cabinet, and it took everything in your power to try not to focus on what you assumed might've been very early morning wood. Or genuinely just something in his pocket.  

"Couldn't sleep?" His remark was sarcastic, the answer already evident as your trembling fingers worked grime off the rim of a mug. You shuddered in response, his breath warm on your neck as gooseflesh covered your body. A t-shirt and plaid pajama pants were evidently not enough to keep the cold away or hold it at bay and since it was easier to find a practically permanent spot in the barracks than getting an apartment, you found yourself cutting your loses.

"Army of coffee cups around here not tipping you off?" Your comment seemed snark-ier than you had intended, but your hand on his and a gentle squeeze seemed to be enough of an apology. Dark bags were under your eyes, fatigue and exhaustion was evident on your face as you turned to look at him over your shoulder. His shirt was faded, stains from coffee and cigarette butts formed their own patterns across the barely recognizable band logo it had once shown. Either he'd slept in his shoes and jeans or he'd decided to put them on after noticing you'd gotten up in the night.

"Collective break room. Cups were just as likely to be yours as they were to be Simons." He yawned as he leaned further against you. His footing wasn't lost but it seemed slightly comical in the moment how lazy he was trying to be. Too tired to stand up straight but enough energy to not only realize you'd woken up, but also notice you were acting odd and try to get to the bottom of it. His voice was rough, evidently still half asleep as he continued. "All I'm askin' is, what's eatin' yuh?"

You huffed softly and shuffled where you stood. You mumbled incoherently as John patted your hip, his fingers rubbed the fabric for a moment longer. He traced the indent of your hip bone against your pants before leaning down to hold his face against your neck. He spoke quietly, his voice muffled as he made a comment about you needing to eat more. You neglected to answer, scoffing and rolling your eyes as you instead pushed his hands from your hips to hold your waist instead. You heard his soft grunt of amusement before it faded to a yawn again.

He kissed along your neck for a moment as he took the mug and carelessly tossed it into the sink. A few moments more and he'd planted his feet before hoisting you up onto the counter. You'd never been particularly short, but sitting on the counter was what it took for you to be eye level with John. You could see his eyes were matched by yours with similar rings of dark circles. His lacked the bloodshot lines that creeped at the corners of yours but regardless, it was still evident that he was tired.

His lips found your neck and he bit your skin gently, leaving a small red mark that bloomed on your skin as he patted your thighs with his warm palms. His eyes searched yours for any cues he was missing, something he was supposed to be getting but wasn't, though you knew if you did decide to try and make him guess that it would be hours before he'd even be on the correct ballpark of correct answers. Easier just to throw him a bone. Something vague that would get him to back off for a bit. The back of your head touched a cabinet as you leaned back. You swiped your hand across your mouth to remove any excess coffee before shrugging.

"Just not- I'm not feeling all that great." Your brows were knit in a small scowl as you wrung your hands together. Your palms were sweaty, a sigh on your lips as his hands squeezed your waist again. His hands were warm. You could feel it through your shirt as he gently kneaded some of the skin. He didn't even seem to realize he was doing it, working more off of what felt good rather than thinking through his moves.

He attempted a light-hearted scoff as he scrutinized your excuse. Though you were unamused regardless and shoved at his shoulder, a sneer tugging at your lips. Though he quickly kissed you on the mouth, the sneer leaving your face as his lips met yours. You wagered he used more force than he meant to, as your neck was being forced to an odd angle with the back of your head against the cabinet.

"'ve seen yuh get shot, stabbed, punched, pinned. Seen all that shite. And I know yuh don't go all mopey or secretive about it. Talk to me, gaol. What's actually got yuh wide awake?" Damn, he was earnest as hell. You avoided his practically pleasing gaze as he implored you to share whatever your burden was, whatever ailed you in the moment. Whatever it was, he wanted to share it or at least try and get you to open up. You swallowed hard and you couldn't be sure if you would actually articulate anything if you opened your mouth. You weren't sure whether you wanted to or not either.

One of his hands left your hips and ran through your hair and you leaned into the touch as you begrudgingly met his gaze. Cold sweat sat in your tresses and you wondered how he could stand to touch your slicked locks.

"I'm not pulling your leg, Johnny. I'm not feeling all too hot right now. That's all." Your insistence came out as almost wishy-washy. A whiny complaint as you sat on the counter and stared at him through weary eyes. Your statement earned you unforseen side effects in the form of a cheeky grin as he kissed your cheek and spoke in a teasing tone.

"Yer definitely lookin' hot if it's any consolation."

Oh. Oh. It had little to no intention of telling him that regardless of how "hot" you looked right now, you felt like a ketchup bottle of blood and no amount of flattery would really help that.

You only seemed to register his further attempts at testing the waters when one of his hands found the hem of your shirt. He maintained eye contact as he began to tug your shirt up slightly, exposing the lower muscles of your abdomen. He seemed to be waiting more for your consent and permission, trying to see how up for action you were at the moment. He was met with you grabbing his wrist as you practically snapped:

"Wait." From you as you stared him down, wide-eyed with an air of panic streaked on you.

It wasn't as though you'd never gotten intimate before, but being intimate with him specifically would be new. You'd had a few partners in highschool but none who were important enough to mention. They'd also only known you from before your first surgery. When you'd been grabbing onto anything in an attempt to try and force yourself into the idea that if you could play the part of a highschool girl, then maybe you'd find some kind of satisfaction in that life. You didn't enjoy that part of your past, and as such you hadn't disclosed it to your peers.

You'd been too cautious to let John know about your surgery yet, too worried that he'd treat or think of you differently. As such, you'd usually turn the topic to him. With intimate times usually culminating in you practicing your blow or hand job skills or simply just denying intimacy altogether on some occasions. You always remained fully dressed, with your most casual being a tank top and shorts. You let him touch freely over your top, and he usually ended up holding the back of your head but that was the extent. You tried to focus intimacy back to him, focusing on making him feel good.

He'd always done his best to be understanding while still expressing concern for you. Nights of one-sided intimacy ended with him asking in earnest if there was something he could do for you. Stating he "didn't want to leave you with blue balls". You'd always shrugged it off and insisted you were alright, to which he'd find some way to repay you sooner or later. He'd grab a copy of a book he knew you wanted, try and cook you something in the barrack's kitchen or simply get you flowers when he saw them.

He'd done nothing that would make you think he wouldn't be accepting, and yet you still found your stomach in knots and your heart pounding away in your chest as his fingers cautiously rested on your shirt. His eyes searched yours and despite your unsure inner turmoil, you still found that you couldn't find it in yourself to ask him to stop. You wanted him to know. You wanted to stop feeling guilty. To stop feeling like it was some kind of shameful secret that you had to hide from him.

Your throat seemed suddenly and uncomfortably dry. A few swallows did nothing to quell the dry spot that seemed less than eager to leave. John removed his hand from your shirt, letting one stay on your hip and bringing the other up open palmed by his head as if in surrender.

"Not looking to tic you off, 'pologies." It was clear that there was guilt in his tone as he gently squeezed your hip again. His face gained a slight blush of embarrassment at having driven that strong of a reaction from you. Christ, had he pissed you off? Had he made things worse? Here you were simply trying to deal with whatever was makin' you get up in the middle of the night and he came along and pissed you off. Great going genius. Dumbass.

His internal monologue was practically written across his face as his gaze went from the coffee mugs, to the cabinets, the ceiling and really anything that wasn't your face. In return, you found your own embarrassment creeping on your face. He'd been trying to do something for you, to be nice and you'd snapped. You'd snapped at him for something that you had planned on doing yourself. Damnit. Alright, off with the band-aid.

"I didn't mean to yell, you just- you just startled me. That's all." It was time for your own gaze to be best friends with the floor as you continued speaking. "I'd just like to ask a selfish promise of you first. Is that okay?"

"Oddly serious."

"John."

"Sorry. Alright, ask away."

How do you phrase this? You'd never really had to think of it before, you'd naively assumed that you could cruise through the relationship without the topic ever coming up.

"Just promise that you won't get mad at me."

He paused for a moment, his eyebrow cocked up in an arch as he gnawed the inside of his cheek.

"Sounds like it's gonna depend on what yer about to spring on me."

You seemed ready to insist and he quickly amended his statement, a kiss on your forehead before he spoke.

"Yes, sorry. I promise I won't be mad at you."

You paused before nodding in acknowledgement and guiding his free hand back to your shirt hem. His fingers ran along the cloth for a few moments more before eventually tugging the cloth up again. His other hand joined the first in the ordeal of lifting up your shirt and before long, he was holding the balled up shirt in one hand haphazardly. Your thin scars sat pale and discolored against the rest of your skin and you saw his eyes trace over your body a few times before meeting your gaze again. There, you'd done it. Your cheeks burned what you could only assume was a vibrant scarlet as you waited for some statement of acknowledgement or a scoff. Maybe a huff before he broke down your self esteem.

Though you were eventually met with a sympathetic look as his set your shirt to the side and resumed holding your hips.

"That all?"

Was that all?

You'd shown the man what had been your secret. What kept you awake on some nights just wondering in a cold sweat about how he'd react, if he'd insult you, demean you. Break up with you on the spot, spread the word among your peers. Leave you getting stared at when you walked into a room. But what you'd earned instead was a "That all?"

"The fuck do you mean, 'that all?'" You weren't livid, you weren't annoyed, honestly you couldn't place what you were. Had you wanted some big reaction out of him? Had you wanted a big emotional confrontation? Well, no, but what you'd wanted at least something. Not a reaction that made it seem like you were being dismissed.

You opened your mouth to speak again and instead found him cutting you off with an abrupt kiss that bumped your head against the cabinet again from the force he'd used. He held the kiss for longer than you found normal and just as you were about to try and tap on his shoulder as a reminder that you needed to break for air, he pulled away and laughed quietly to himself as his hands rested on his own hips.

"Laddie, you had me worried yuh were about to reveal some kind of second head or fused twin in some Total Recall type of shite. Maybe a really corny tattoo that I would laugh at 'und not be able to take yuh seriously because of. But this? I don't get how yuh think I'd be mad about it. 'Could spend hours jus' starin' at you if yuh'd let me. What I'm getting at here, is that yer quite possibly the most gorgeous guy I've had the fortune of layin' eyes on. Scars or not." Near the end of his accented monologue, he gently began cupping the your face before kissing your forehead again.

Your mind seemed to have paused, processing everything slowly. Maybe you were just hormonal. Maybe you just had pent up aggression from something else, but you found self loathing begin to rush over you in droves as you thought about the aforementioned nights laying in puddles of your cold sweat as you worried and terrified yourself with an endless sleep of scenarios and what-ifs that scared you into not telling him for so long. And yet here he was. He seemed to be barely thrown-off his paces.

You found tears lining your vision, frustration at yourself as well as some swell of relief had planted seed in your heart as you leaned forward to cry into his shoulder. He looked fairly surprised or at least unexpecting of that reaction, though he quickly found his role again. One hand moved to be buried in your hair and gently massaging your scalp as the other found your back and gently patted it between your gasping inhales.

One of the few things that kept you from wailing into the material of his shirt, was the knowledge that you weren't trying to awake or draw the attention of any late night walkers nearby. Instead, you did your best for emotional release via choked sobs and your quivering breaths. You grabbed a handful of his shirt with one hand and your other wrapped under his arm to hold tightly to his back as you gave another shaky inhale and left the impression of your tears and spit in darkened patches across his shirt.

"Gotta throw this into the dryer before I call it in for the night, yeah?" He chuckled quietly into your hair as he gave you a squeeze. He was warm against you, and you found your lungs gradually being able to work actual proper breaths into your chest. Your crying hadn't lasted all that long, but your process of calming down and simply laying against him lasted far longer. He planted another kiss on your head before gently holding your jaw in his warm hands. He swiped his thumbs across your face to wipe away your stray tears.

He held your gaze for a few moments longer before speaking. His voice was quiet, his eyes searching yours as he attempted to check if you were alright or not yet in an unspoken question. You gave one final quivering exhale as you collected your thoughts and what dignity you had left.

A few moments more and you had calmed down fully and you'd hopped off the counter. He held your hand in a firm but gentle grip and it seemed like he had something more to say, but you cut off him. Figuring that you owed him an explanation for his initial question.

"I'm cramping. That's why I'm down here. Couldn't sleep."

It seemed clear that he wasn't sure what you were speaking of initially. His mind most likely moving through any of the training or sparring sessions where he might've hit you harder than necessary or when you could've possibly sprained it. Though a few moments more and a few embarrassed hand gestures from you, he seemed to get the gist. Your cheeks gained the splash of bright red again as you saw him begin trying to think through how to help.

"Pain killers?"

"A couple in my system right now. Not helping."

"..heatin' pad?"

"Couldn't find one."

He paused in his suggestions and it was clear he had something working in his mind as he stared at you for a moment longer before giving his next idea.

"You uh- you try an orgasm yet?"

You quickly threw a swing and slugged him in the shoulder as you scrunched your eyes to a glare. You called him a pervert and you saw him smile subtly as he feigned pain from your punching. He rubbed his arm and gave a quick hiss through his teeth as he continued pretending your attack had hurt him, complaining half-heartedly that you would leave a bruise. Regardless, he let you continue to punch him a few more times, though the smile and crinkle of the corners of his eyes made it clear he was anything but upset.

"Lay off, lay off." He chuckled for a moment as he took your hands in his before moving them to your side, though you quickly crossed your arms as you shot him a half-hearted glare.

"Look, all I'm sayin', luv is that I was with a girl a good number of years back. Anytime it was shark week she'd ask for some time together and I, being the astute gentleman that I am, would say yes. She was claimin' it made her feel better for a littl' while. I ain't sayin' there's some great biological flare to it, but at the very least, it took her mind off it for a while if there ain't any other explanation." He cast you a subtle smile before planting another kiss on the side of your neck, taking care to bite the skin and leave a red blemish.

Your brows furrowed as you scrunched up your face in a mild show of scrutinization. You were sure his story had some merit to it in terms of the source material but in terms of whether or not it actually meant anything? Whatever it was, he believed what he was saying even if you were suspicious of it. You found the warmth of his hands had been traveling up slowly but surely, with his hands now on your side instead of your hips. As he held your eye contact, the question was practically written on his face. His eyebrows were raised as he waited for your answer. One of his hands still squeezed your side but the other dropped slowly to rest on the curve of your groin through your pants. Damn it. What did you really have to lose?

--

"You know this is insanely unsanitary, yeah?"

Your protest was practically token at this point. You had little intention of actually backing down now but you still wanted to put all the cards on the table. Some kind of disclosure. Or at the very least one final chance for him to back out if he had his own doubts he'd been too polite to speak.

"Well aware." His tone was matter-of-factly in that his will or decision wouldn't be the one wavering. Though it was clear you were more than welcome to still change your mind if you wanted to. He'd slung your t-shirt along with his underneath you in leu of a towel or blanket considering he didn't want to risk waking anyone up on his way to the barracks. The hour was still late enough that no one else was awake. No one else should've been awake. The clock gave another scornful series of clicks and you watched his jaw already at work even as he stood with his hands on his hips staring at your closed knees.

"Are you chewing gum?"

"......maybe. That an issue?"

"Johnny, I don't want you somehow spitting gum in my- look when did you even get it?"

You watched as he quickly swallowed the piece without hesitation and shrugged as he glanced back to you. He began to speak with a tone that made it clear his comment was satirical. Or at the very least an attempt at self depreciation to try and make you more comfortable since you seemed less than whole-y in your element. He wasn't entirely stupid. He was sure if he was laying splayed out like a Christmas turkey on table, he wouldn't exactly be full of confidence. He spoke with his hands. That was something you'd begun to notice during your months of being together. And it seemed reflected now with how he spoke with vague gestures and a grin that now tugged at his lips, revealing the tops of his teeth and some hints of gums.

"Feel like there's a lot of unwarranted judgement coming my way about my breath care and gum habits. Specifically coming from someone who's asking me to eat them out or fuck their pussy till they see stars."

You cringed slightly from your spot on the table, you propped yourself up on your elbows as you stared at him from between your knees. You were sure he hadn't meant anything by it, and in all honesty you couldn't pin down why you disliked it either. But his use of "pussy" just made your stomach churn more than the cramps were already.

"Y'mind not calling it that?"

"Callin' it what? A pussy?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. I mean I can be gross and jus' call it a hole if yuh'd like. That sound insanely sexy? 'Laddie, please let me fuck your hole.'" He trailed off into a quiet laugh as he wiped his lips. It seemed clear that he was working through compromises in his mind. As much as he was joking, it seemed clear he was still trying to find a solution that pleased you. He ran his pointer finger and thumb over his top lip, rubbing what stubble had managed to grow out before he settled on one.

"Does 'cunt' work?"

You raised an eyebrow in response, seemingly more of a "convince me" rather than an absolute "no". You adjusted the shirts underneath your hips, your flannel pants were catching on the fabric and you found a short internal monologue crossing your mind as you began wondering why you hadn't already taken them off. You felt foolish. They were going to come off anyways, so why'd that have to be part of whatever attempt at being "sexy" he'd pull? Whatever. Your internal monologue was cut off by his voice soon after.

"Simple yes or no. If I were to say-" His voice started off at what you assumed was his attempt at "husky" but considering his accent, was more so borderline incomprehensible in the beginning. "There is nothing more that I'd like to do right now than grab your knees, snap your legs open and eat out your cunt like it was the last fuckin' meal on this whole damn planet-" He trailed off, his fingers had begun tracing along your hips again before eventually fondling the tassels of your pants as he undid them. When he was done, his fingers were hooked along the seam of your waist and and he was leaning his head against your partially parted legs, his cheek on your knee.

"What would yuh do then? Would that be doin' anythin' for yuh?" You feigned deep thought, rubbing your chin for a moment as you egged him on. You brought your other knee to the other side of his head and gently squeezed.

"I'd probably say I'd need a bit more convincing."

He brought a hand up to haphazardly grab at the thigh of the leg that he wasn't leaning against. He opened your legs slightly further and he enunciated his syllables further now with dropping his head and inch of two. "Alright well what 'bout this," He hummed in thought for a moment or two as he mulled over what to say.

"I could say somethin' along the lines of 'seein' you splayed out like this with a cunt that's practically begging for me to fuck, 'und a mouth that's beggin' me to kiss it. You've got eyes that make me want to get lost in 'em. You've got a voice like music." He seemed to laugh for a second before adding onto the monologue, almost in a purposely attempt to ruin whatever blissful or heartfelt tone. "You've got a cunt that I'd be more than happy to already be inside of by now."

This was met with a surprisingly sheepish grin from you as you used a hand to shove his face off your leg as you tuned away and attempted to keep some kind of cool or reserved exterior.

"Yeah sure. I guess that'd do something for me." With that confirmation of yours, he cast you a toothy grin again before making quick work of your pajamas pants. He had first bitten the hem and tugged them down a few inches, but after a look of confusion that you shot him, he quickly abandoned that idea and instead just used his hands like a normal person. He'd balled them up and tossed your pants aside without much thought. His lips soon found your abdomen and he began planting kisses all along your visible skin.

When he got to your chest, he cast you a glance. It seemed more like confirmation of permission as he held your gaze. You gaze a curt nod of acknowledgement, almost more akin to embarrassment before he exhaled warm breath onto your skin. You were met with a string of chaste kisses along one of your scars as he gently squeezed your sides. One of his knees was hiked up onto edge of the table as he leaned further forward, the kisses continuing to follow. The kisses turned to hickies as he began leaving red marks that bloomed across your skin, and you watched as he stared in some amount of odd satisfaction as the marks began to cover larger amounts of different patches of your skin.

He left another blooming red mark on the bottom of your jaw before capturing your lips in a kiss. One of his hands became tangled in your hair, grabbing almost a whole fistful as he held onto you with some depraved amount of desperation that you couldn't even be sure the origin of. After a while, he seemed to remember that it was a good idea to let you breath, and he broke the kiss. Staring down at you through hazy eyes as he huffed quietly. His huffing left every exhale as a puff of his breath straight to your face, and you counted yourself lucky that he'd had the forethought to chew the gum before hand.

He shot you a quick grin before quickly slipping off you and moving to stand at the edge of the table again. He wiped his hands on his pants though he hadn't dirtied them. He then let his fingers trail at the edges of the waistband of the boxers you had on. You grimaced slightly as he pulled at your boxers again before leaving you bare on the table. Your face burned a vibrant scarlet and you stared at one of the walls to your side, though you felt him tap your calf for your attention.

"Jus' give me the word and we'll stop. Yeah?"

You nodded shakily but kept your gaze on the wall only to hear him call for a verbal response.

"Not doin' anythin' till I hear it."

You nodded again as you responded, speaking almost under your breath in a seemingly annoyed fashion. "Understood."

"Lovely."

With that you felt him press his middle and pointer finger to the folds of your cunt. His thumb rested lazily on your clit as he dragged his fingers around for a few moments. His fingers slipped into your cunt with little resistance and he found that the blood worked surprisingly well considering he wasn't sure how aroused you were and how much of the slick was yours. You were warm. Felt slicker than he wagered you'd be after an orgasm as well. He then moved his fingers to the base of your cunt before giving one quick swipe upwards, dragging a smear of your blood up with him. You yelped, shot him a confused stare as he laid a hand open-palmed on your abdomen.

"That alright, luv?" He met your gaze for a moment as he rubbed his finger tips to his thumb, feeling your blood in a way that weirded you out. Though what drew a cry of disgust from your lips was when he swiped his fingers across his tongue, tasting your blood. You gagged for a moment and physically cringed as you began yelling about how gross he was. He shushed you quickly for a moment and was cut off by his own barky laugh.

"Again. I'm hearin' a lot of complaints from someone who's needin' somethin' from me. And if you keep yellin' like that, you're probably gonna catch some poor passerby-er's attention."

You begrudgingly gritted your teeth as you turned your gaze away from him and mumbled a half-hearted sigh of acquiescence. "Whatever."

You nodded though and returned to staring up at the ceiling above, an occasional glance at either of the two clocks as they clicked quietly. Your mind wandered for a moment as you attempted to try and keep your mind off of how exposed you felt. The cool air on your cunt only seemed to add to the sensation and you squirmed for a moment more before settling still again. What seemed to summon your attention again was his movement as he crouched down, his hands gripping the outside of your thighs. His face was between your legs and you met his gaze for a moment before you saw him lick a stripe along your folds.

You grunted, moving a hand to lay across your eyes as he dragged his tongue from bottom to top of your sex. You gritted your teeth again and found that your mind traveled to the fact of how unsanitary it all was. You thought of the mess of blood that must've been in his stubble at the moment and you found yourself suppressing a small gag. Despite this, you stayed quiet considering how good it felt. His tongue slipped into your cunt and you squeezed instinctively to which he grunted. A puff of his warm breath hit your cunt, and you heard him mumble softly. As such, you felt the vibrations hit your heart in a way that sparked a rumble in your throat.

Your cunt already ached from your cramps and you found that his tongue was driving you closer to an orgasm than you wagered you would've been otherwise or in regular circumstances. Every lick across your cunt left you fighting your urge to buck against his mouth for more friction, but you quickly found the he seemed to get the message. His hands tightened on your hips and tugged you forward for closer contact as he continued licking, his hawked nose occasionally dragging further in your folds. He wouldn't pretend that it tasted amazing, but the tang of copper on his tongue wasn't something he found particularly offsetting.

You whined softly and he squeezed the malleable flesh of your hips in what you assumed was his attempt at a reassuring fashion. His mouth moved upwards along your cunt, his tongue eventually lapping at your clit. You could more directly see the blood on his lips and stubble now as well as the flecks across his nose. His hands moved from your thighs to the tops of your knees as he began to spread your legs further. You whined softly in return, feeling your muscles ache in return as your breathing hitched.

Your heart hammered in your chest and his eyes seemed hazy as he continued lapping at your cunt like a dehydrated dog at a water bowl. He continued lapping with more intention as he dipped his tongue further between your folds. He could feel his cock grow stiff against his leg and he did his best to ignore it. You were important. This was for you. He resigned himself to fucking his hand after you fell asleep.

You whined softly and moaned from behind your hand as he tugged you closer. The work of his mouth on your clit left you giving a shrill mewl as you came. You heard him grunt in surprise and felt him release your clit which he'd begun sucking on. You saw him blink a few times before licking the discharge from your folds as it made it's way down and mixed with the remaining blood in your folds.

After he finished cleaning the remains of your orgasm, he stood back and looked you over as if to gauge your reaction or wait for any criticism. He criss-crossed his arms and laid his forearms across the tops of your knees and stared down at you before speaking softly. "Y'alright?"

You nodded blearily, half focused on him and half focused on trying to keep some kind of dignified expression again as you spoke. "M' good."

You heard and saw him chuckle before cleaning his face with his hand before wiping it on his pant's leg. He leaned over you for a moment, keeping balance on his forearm before pressing a kiss to your forehead and then pressing one to your lips. A few moments more and you rubbed your mouth absentmindedly for a moment as you looked him over. Your cunt had stopped painfully throbbing and your stomach had stopped coiling in knots for a a moment. Maybe his ex had actually been right about something.

[mochiimac]

About Love 3

My head gets messy when I try to hide

The things I love about you in my mind

Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x Fem!Reader

Summary: Becoming a best selling thriller author? Part of the plan. Living in the city and isolating yourself from everyone? Part of the plan. Inheriting your late uncles home in the woods, his sassy assistant and fortune after he died mysteriously? Not part of the plan. Oh, and he failed to mention the 7 'surprises' he left you as well.  And come to think of it... was his death an accident? Or is your imagination going wild again?

Genre: Hybrid!AU

Warnings (if bolded then this chapter contains these elements) : Fluff, Hurt, Comfort, Angst, Death, Abuse, Smut, Violence, Dom/Sub, Dom/Sub Elements, Non-Con Elements, Slow Burn, Trauma,

Rating: M 18+

WC: ~6k

Tag List: CLOSED- Tumblr doesn't like my list, I'll most likely have to do the list on a separate post... I'll figure it out lol

Notes: I'm so happy to be writing again! Thank you to everyone who waited and to those who have just started to read <3

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After being thrown into a brick wall, drowned in scolding black liquid, ran over twice, and bent to the point of snapping in half did sweet mercy come to relieve the pains of the world. It just so happened to be in the shape of a large metal box. And smell like every health violation known to man and hybrid kind.

Clunk!

Y/n’s damaged phone hit the bottom of the dumpster, the loud noise nearly being lost in the dark alleyway thanks to the busy traffic of the city. The device was now gone and irreparable (which may or may not have been extremely fun to do- perhaps he has some pent up rage he should work on...) meaning it could no longer be tracked. He was oh so careful about it.

He was careful when arriving in the city, taking detours and making random stops before settling on a random alleyway with a dumpster. Despite knowing he was alone Jackson remained careful though, double checking his surroundings before exiting the dumpster and heading back into his car. It might have seemed too extreme to someone looking in, but if the knew the Spades family. Knew what they were capable of...

Closing the door with a little too much force, he leaned back in his seat and let out a long sigh. Jackson closed his eyes, feeling the freshly fallen snow slowly melt and dampen his jet black hair. His lips were pulled into a thin line, nearly sucking his teeth, as the events from the day played back in his mind. 

The day was supposed to be an easy one. Get the new heiress into the new home, help unpack, question her mini library and the knickknacks he had noticed from prior visits, then head home. Simple. Done. Takoda made this all sound extremely easy in the will. But that man could make lassoing the moon look as easy as riding a bike. He was the kind of man who accomplished what he put his mind to and didn’t hesitate. Jackson admired him for it, looking up at him as a mentor ever since he was first hired. Even now the young man wanted to strive to be like his late boss.

He really wished the old man was right there with him, to help shed light on what Takoda was up to. And what Jackson should do with the chaotic mess he was in. 

Not only does Jackson now have to worry about the Spades family but now hybrids. He never held any ill thoughts towards the beings and honestly viewed them just as he viewed humans: there were good and bad hybrids just like there were good and bad humans. Of course he found it odd that even now, so long later, they weren't given basic human rights. Hell, many places still want to keep them on leashes. He just couldn't see how they could be treated that way.

Well... maybe for one hybrid he could. Jackson scowled at the fresh memory of the shaggy brown haired hybrid that held him in that death grip. He would enjoy that one being in a doghouse, more for the sake of his injured ego than for the hybrids actions. A large part of him wanted to stay and ensure Y/n was in good hands. But judging at how they reacted to him was enough to let Jackson know she was going to be safe. His ass still hurt from the youngest canine tackling him to the ground.

‘Little shit.’

Bzz! Bzz!

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, breaking the warm and calm atmosphere of the car. At first he was prepared to see a new number, knowing Y/n would be calling to give him her new cell phone information. However he was surprised at the name that appeared, his eyes narrowing for a moment. He really didn’t want to take this call…

But he had no other choice.

“Hello?... Hold on, what? … No, that’s not possible. I just… He what?...” He paused as he heard the new information being told to him. “... Of course he did… Alright.” The line went dead and he tossed the phone into the passenger seat. For a brief moment he stared straight ahead, allowing the new information to sink in.

He blinked. 

Sighed.

BEEEEEP!

And banged his head into the car horn.

People walking about on the sidewalk jumped and stared at the parked vehicle who’s car horn was going off for a long period of time. But Jackson didn’t care. No, at that moment only one thing was on his mind: what the hell was Takoda up to. 

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The entire drive was rather relaxing. Namjoon kept a keen eye on the road while also engaging in conversation here and there. Jungkook and Jin decided to ask you a million questions, the duo's eyes were shining the entire time. It were as though you were telling them the greatest story to ever be written, even if it was just tidbits of your life. You did try to ask them questions about their own lives as well but they would get shy and nearly clam up.

It was shocking compared to how flirty and outgoing they were most of the time. You wondered if it had to do with their files... Those manilla envelopes might be holding their history and maybe some secrets they are afraid of speaking. It was hard to ignore when Namjoon would tense up beside you; Jungkook would let his hair fall in his face and glance down; Jin's smile would freeze before he stuttered a question of his own.

Did they really think you would kick them out from what those files stated? You heart clenched at the mere idea of it. Judging with how they acted you knew they were kind, too kind for the world they were created for.

And it made you nervous thinking of all that could have happened to them while being alive.

"You have arrived!" The GPS announced as the car slowed down. You were too busy with the pack that you failed to realize how fast time had gone by. "Welcome to Unova Mall!"

There was a time where shopping centers were dying out. Online shopping had grown and become popular with how easy it was to merely pick up your device, press a few buttons, and you’d see the item within the week. It wasn’t until hybrids came to be that mall’s began a resurgence. As more and more people began to adopt they soon realized that they had no where to showcase their new adoptions; restaurants were hardly allowing hybrids in due to them being seen as animals and highly dangerous (especially the first generation of hybrids), and parks were working on regulations on whether they needed leashes or not.

 As the world shifted with the new profound creations certain businesses picked up on this opportunity; mall’s were revamped to accommodate hybrids, allowing specialty stores of all types to gather together. For some it was convenient to shop for themselves and hybrids in one go. For others it marked a great place to allow their hybrids to be seen by the world; from owning the latest generation to the rarest of breeds it was the place to go.

Personally you never shopped in malls before, never had a reason to. You preferred to get what you needed online or by running to whatever market you stumbled upon. However you knew there was no better place to complete your shopping list than the mall. Even if it made you cringe on the inside. The mere idea of being mistaken for someone who uses hybrids for clout... It left a rotten taste in your mouth.

Pulling up you could see the appeal of walking around in the large shopping center. The stores appeared to be outside but upon closer inspection you could see a glass ceiling covering all the stores, protecting shoppers from the elements. There were large and tall metal pillars placed throughout the area; units designed to heat or use AC depending on the weather. While there was a parking lot for people to park, the stores had large paved areas for everyone to walk around freely without worrying about traffic. 

“I’ve never been to a place this large before.” Jungkook whispered, gold eyes large as he watched everything from his window. The car parked itself close to the front of the main entrance.

You were taken back once more to those files, wondering what their histories were like. Even now, stepping out of the car, that logical part of your brain was alerting you that you didn’t truly know these males. And, of course, that small voice in the back of your mind was reluctant to think of them as anything less than perfect. Nearly purring at the idea of them being the best men out there.

You really hated your brain sometimes.

“Alright beautiful, where do you want to go first?” Seokjin stood next to you. He kept close, his body acting as a shield to the wind and most of the snow.

“Furniture first, it’ll be easier to get that out of the way.” You responded. You stuffed your hands in your pockets, trying to keep the cold away.

Despite being mainly outdoors, the main entrance to the shopping center could easily be noticed by the large LED 'Welcome!' screen, models posing with hybrids wearing big smiles. The screen would shift and list attractions and new sales that the stores located all around would have. The stone pathway began right where the large welcome screen was, a directory stationed right beside it to assist in finding certain stores faster.

Namjoon walked beside you with Jin and Jungkook following close behind. “Do you know what you need exactly?”

“A bit, yes. I have a mental list of everything.” You beamed at him, your eyes meeting his amber ones. “It really shouldn’t take too long. Hardly any time at all.”

“Are we going to buy things for the arcade room?” Jungkook asked with a hint of hope in his voice. It did have you grinning but you shook your head at him.

“No, at least not today. We’re going to focus on the basics today.”

"There's still hope." He whispered, Namjoon rolling his eyes as the youngest grinned at the mere idea of having an entire game room to themselves.

The minute you stepped foot on the stone pathway entrance you felt warmth engulf you. The entire area felt warm and cozy, and even smelled good: you could smell hints of something sweet in the air almost like a bakery. A nice place such as this would provide air scents to boost appeal from the customers and create a relaxing atmosphere. Even Namjoon looked calmer though he was looking around and familiarizing himself with the place. His eyes were alert on the few people walking around, body shuffling closer to you.

‘What a good alpha.’ The pesky little voice in your head swooned. You mentally stomped on it with a boot and shook your head. With a quick glance you spotted the store with ease. “The store is right over there! Hopefully they have expedited shipping.”

“Are you in a rush for a coffee table or something?” Jin quirked an eyebrow, bright blue eyes looking confused for a moment. 

“Not that, but I need a place to sleep.” You laughed as you all walked into the store. It was brightly lit and held displays for various rooms a household could have. It went far beyond what you could see from where you were standing. Glancing around you saw the bedroom area and quickly went towards it. “You guys got the bedroom since there are three of you in your pack. I’ll take another room and make it my own.” 

 You could feel a small amount of tension and turned to see the three hybrids staring at you, stone still at the entrance of the store, with mixed emotions; Jungkook looked hurt, Jin looked confused, and Namjoon appeared to be troubled. There was no telling what was going on inside their minds as you stopped mid-walk and blinked at them.

“What’s wrong?”

“That’s what we want to know? Was it the nest?” Jungkook quickly walked up to you, eyes searching yours for something that you didn’t know. “I can do better. Make it better.” Your face heated up as he knelt to your level, hands on your shoulders creating warmth and security that you hated to admit that you loved. “What did we do?”

“I- you guys did nothing,” You stammered over your words, noticing the rest of the pack gathering around you as well. A million questions rocketed in your mind, not knowing where this behavior came from. You really needed to do your own research or communicating would be nearly impossible. You could ask but you couldn't find the nerve to; you were already viewing yourself as a terrible owner for leaving them alone for months. Asking questions on basic information made you even worst in your own eyes. Stressing them out, not knowing enough about their species... you needed to do better and give them some hope in you and your abilities.

“You guys are a pack and would want to stay together, so you guys can take the master room. Since I’m not a pack member I really shouldn’t intrude.”

You could tell Jungkook was ready to argue, however a deeper voice was faster. “We understand Y/n. Thank you for thinking of us.” Namjoon gave you a soft smile, though it was a small one. His eyes seemed to be swimming through emotions that you couldn’t decode no matter how hard you tried. There was a pang in your heart at the thought of hurting them though you had no idea what you even did. If anything you were trying todo what was best for them.

As if sensing your doubts he gently took your arm and began to lead the way to the other showcases. Jin followed and offered you a soft smile as well, but just like the pack alpha’s it was small and didn’t reach his eyes. You pushed  your questions to the back of your mind as the bedroom displays came into view. Instead you focused on what you needed and went straight to the mattresses first, needing to test them out and see which one would be comfy for you. 

Namjoon and Jin did help you, making good points. Jungkook, however, not so much. He decided to full on pout and whine, hands tugging on your jacket as he tried to sway you with pitiful words. Small attempts at pointing out minor flaws (“It’s an ugly color!”) didn’t help him either. Sitting on the seventh bed, you felt like it was made from a cloud. And no pouts from the youngest hybrid could sway you.

“It feels like I’m on a cloud, I really like this one.” You sighed and leaned back, closing your eyes. “I think I’m taking this one. Scratch that, I know I’m taking this one.” Since entering the store you could feel yourself feel less tense and stressed, boy molding into the soft material. You were ready to take a nap right there and then. The mattress shifted and you cracked your eyes open to be met with a pair of gold eyes boring into your very soul. You heart nearly stopped in shock at the canines presence. You didn't even notice him near you.

“But why not just stay with us?”

Jungkook saved the puppy dog eyes for last. Large doe eyes were staring right into your soul, lower lip jutted out in a pout that could shake even the iciest of hearts. There was determination behind the adorable stunt that you could see; the sharpness in his eyes as he waited for the perfect moment to try and persuade you once again. And what better way than when you had your guard down? He was hovering over you, hands on either side of your head, knees placed on either side of your waist though not a single ounce of his weight touched you. He was holding his own weight easily, without so much as a second thought. Your cheeks heated up as you realized the position you were in and blinked rapidly up at him, trying to collect your scrambled thoughts.

Your heart hammered in your chest, nearly jumping up your throat. You willed it to be steady for your own sake. “Jungkook, we talked about this. You guys need space as a pack.” Your words were met with a frown tugging on his pout, eyes searching yours once more. But you had no idea what he was looking for. So you changed tactics instead. “Besides, I’m the worst to sleep near. I’m certain I snore a lot.” 

“I doubt that. Prove me wrong, spend the night with us. If we don’t mind then you stay.” His tone was firm, almost a command. Having him be this persistent should have made you roll your eyes and be snippy with the hybrid. But instead of feeling annoyed or even angry you felt yourself sag a little. Almost as if you were going to follow his orders, your eyes dilating ever so slightly as you stared up at him. Some type of trance seemed to take place over you, as if you were in your own little bubble with Jungkook where he was in control over everything. And somehow you were perfectly fine with that, hell you found yourself relaxing even more.

You couldn’t explain what your body was doing, you just felt the need to let go and let him take control. Maybe he was right… “Trust me, it’s best if you don’t. I-I also toss and turn all night.” You sounded weak, words spoken in a hush that not even you would have believed. 

The pout had disappeared moments ago, the moment you relaxed under him. Jungkook was now gazing at you with a small smirk and hooded eyes, the gold shining brilliantly against his dark lashes. He seemed to be in a trance himself as he slowly lowered himself closer to you. His body was a hair's width away from you now, if you so much as took a deep breath you would be pressed against him. You could feel his warmth radiate off of him, his voice dropping several octaves, almost a growl, as he spoke. “We can keep you in place. Namjoon-ah especially.” 

The next second happened too fast for you to grasp. The smallest of whimpers slid past your lips just as Jungkook yelped and disappeared from your view. It was as though the trance you were in shattered entirely and you sat up quickly, face ablaze as you looked around. Namjoon was gripping Jungkook by the back of his neck, the youngest looking almost ashamed with his head bent. Jin was reaching to slowly pull you up with sigh. There was no one else around (thankfully for you) and you nearly forgot where you were.

“Sorry about the brat, beautiful. He can be very persistent. We looked away for one moment and this happened.” His tone sounded remorseful, hands carefully pulling you up from the mattress. Those blue eyes carefully watched your face for a moment, as if waiting for something to happen. For you to do something or act out.

What even was that? You didn’t know what came over you or how it happened. Truth is you honestly didn’t want to know. Not yet at least. For now you were blaming it on your lack of intimacy. It has been quite some time since you were with someone…

Shaking your head you sighed. “It’s alright, he tried though. But I want this mattress.”

Taking note of which one you wanted, you continued down your list and got the rest of the things you needed. Namjoon kept Jungkook a bit away from you, the leader sending cool glares when he got too close. Jin was the one who did most of the talking with you, assisting you in certain items and his thoughts. An hour later and you were heading outside the store with your new belongings expected to be delivered that evening. While Jin was walking with you, Namjoon and Jungkook were following behind. The youngest was sulking while the leader was giving him a side eye. Whatever happened definitely wasn't approved by Namjoon.

'It's probably best if to keep my distance.' You thought, trying to keep some space between you and Jin. The husky sent you a questionable look that you ignored completely. You needed to get everything done before something else happens.

Next on the list was the hybrids themselves and getting them whatever they wanted or needed. You didn’t want them to feel rushed to shop, hence why you grabbed the furniture first. This ensured that they had plenty of time to browse and take a look around at whatever they needed. The store you had seen was not too far away; a mere few stores down was the famous store known for hybrids: Brand New Day.

BND was a large store that was filled to the brim with supplies for any type of Hybrid. It was a staple store in the community, being known for their amazing customer service and embracing acceptance towards all Hybrids. The four of you walked through the glass doors and towards the softer glow of lights that gave the store a warm appearance. The entire place felt like a giant hug; from the soft color scheme to the classic wooden floors. Displays scattered all around the store showcased all sorts of items, you felt lost looking around for a moment- where to even begin?

“Hi, I’m Lisa! Is there anything I can assist you with today?” A young woman approached your group, her hair glossy and as black as night. Her smile was kind, eyes meeting each person in your group. She wore an all black outfit with a beige apron, the BND logo embroidered on the front. Lisa looked relaxed and eager to help, eyes mainly trained on you since you were the owner of the trio.

You smiled back at her. “Hi, yes we need help. You see, I recently adopted my hybrids and…” You trailed off, obviously not knowing where to start. You feared you were going to look like an idiot and maybe even laughed at but the smile never once faltered. Lisa seemed to understand your predicament and give you a reassuring smile.

“I totally understand, it can be overwhelming. Especially if this is your first time.” Sliding her hand into her apron pocket she pulled out a small stack of pamphlets of various colors. “Now, what breed are each of your hybrids?”

You told her their names and their breed and she handed each one a pamphlet of different color. Jungkook had her faltering for a second, eyebrows knitting as she looked at the pamphlets. The wolfdog shifted his feet, gold eyes cast down as the seconds ticked by. Jungkook seemed uncomfortable as Lisa flipped through more pamphlets. You frowned, opening your mouth to ask what was wrong but Lisa was quick to perk up and smile at the two of you.

“Ah, here’s one for general canines and one for wolves! A crossbreed such as his is rare and while these are a good guide to buy the products you need, but Jungkook can absolutely browse and make his own selections. They all can really. These just help answer any questions you may have.” She explained, smiling gently at your group. 

It wasn’t hard to tell that Jungkook looked almost embarrassed about the whole thing. And to make matters worse he seemed to be watching your reactions, gauging how you reacted to it. Sending him a soft smile you nodded.

"Thank you for your help!" You truly meant it too; Lisa provided a warm presence and reassurance. The fear of being laughed at or frowned upon for your lack of knowledge was slowly melting away. There was something about her presence that made you feel better.

"It is not a problem, if any of you have any questions don't hesitate to ask! I'll be on the floor if you need to find me." One last cheerful smile and a small bow she made her way back to her associate duties.

The pack was looking around with wide eyes, glancing in every direction. BND certainly had a wide variety of items, which was incredible for those who had owners of different breeds, and easier to find what you were looking for. You were about to ask where they wanted to go to first but held back as you remembered how Namjoon behaved earlier; his iciness when Jungkook behaved in the furniture store was hard to ignore.

'It'll be best if I let them get their own items. Give them space.' You didn't want to cause another incident and have an angry wolf on your hands. Instead you gave each of them a small smile, ignoring the uneasiness you felt of your choice.

"Why don't you guys go and gather what you need? I'll have Lisa open a register for you to place your items as you go." Your voice was light and positive, watching their facial expressions, especially Namjoon's.

Those amber eyes met yours, the corners of his mouth turned ever so slightly down. "Actually-"

"Sounds like a lovely idea, beautiful." Jin smiled at you, grabbing his pack mates arms. "We'll gather what we need. Is there a limit on what you wish to spend?"

"No, gather what you need or want. If it can fit in the car it can be purchased. Have fun!" You quickly turned on your heel, looking for Lisa. You didn't want Jungkook or Namjoon to try to persuade you to linger. Besides you assured yourself that they would love the space to shop freely without you hovering.

Spotting the raven haired woman, you explained your plan to her: leaving the trio inside the store to shop while you ran out to get a new phone. You were vague, explaining that your previous one was damaged from being left on top of the car. Whether she believed your or not did not matter and she only smiled and promised to keep an eye on the trio while you were out.

Exiting the store you nearly jogged to the phone store located several stores down. Not too far to cause worry and only a few minutes to walk to. Once inside you got down to business, determined to finish everything up as soon as possible.

Which happened to take over an hour.

You had to close your old account and open a new one with a whole new number (you claimed you had a stalker named Jackson) and decided to add three more lines to your account. What took you the longest was picking out which color phone to give to which hybrid. It was so slow in the store that several phone service representatives began to vote for colors for each hybrid (you did have fun with that though) and settled on three new colors along with one for you.

Once they were set up, you were handed a bag and free to dash back to Brand New Day, mentally praying that nothing bad had happened. However opening the glass door you stumbled upon a heartbreaking scene.

Jungkook was alone and curling in on himself, tail tucked between his legs, merle ears so low you could hardly see them from his fluffy hair. Soft whines poured from his hunched figure, back starting to shake. Lisa was next to him, her words soft as she tired to calm the canine down. She didn't touch him however; she was attempting at keeping his personal space for his own sake. But her words were falling on deaf ears.

Your heart splintered at the site of the hybrid shaking and turning his head to the side and away from Lisa and the door. A single tear rolled down his cheek, lips trembled as another whine came through. He sounded almost as if he was going to start howling. A wave of worry finally got you rushing forward, sliding towards your hybrid.

“Jungook?” Your voice was high pitched, the worry leaking out into the open. Your own eyes were wide with worry as you tried to make your way towards the hybrid.

Hearing your voice he snapped his head to you, his ears perked up and twitched at the sound of your voice. Gold eyes brimming with tears. It only took a millisecond before you were nearly tackled. Strong arms encased you close and tightly as though you’d disappear if he loosened his grip. His nose was pressed into the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply before he sighed. “Couldn’t find you. I kept looking. Thought you left.” Although his words were muffled in your skin, you could hear them perfectly clear.

‘Was he left behind before?’ You had to wonder if this was something he had experienced, given that it was the first thing he thought of when he couldn’t see you. The mere thought had you holding him just as tight, a hand running through his locks. “I’m sorry, I had to grab something. Besides I can’t leave, not without my hybrids.” 

Your eyes met Lisa and you mouthed a thank you to her, and she smiled back and nodded to the register where you spotted a confused looking Jin setting some clothes down and heading over to the two of you. "Jungkook? Y/n? What happened?" The concern in his voice had you feeling a little safer; knowing he was worried about you was almost reassuring in a way you couldn't explain.

"I had to run an errand, Jungkook couldn't find me and thought I left you guys..." You trialed off, feeling guilt eat at you now. You honestly didn't think it was going to take that long to get everything done, thankfully he only just realized that you were gone.

Jungkook peeked up from your neck and looked at Jin, the two staring at one another for a few moments before Jin sighed. "I'm glad to see your okay, Y/n." His lips curled down however, eyebrows knitting as his bright blue eyes pierced into yours. "However, you need to tell us next time. What if something were to happen? We wouldn't know where you were or went to."

His tone wasn't condescending, but there was authority behind it. An order of sorts. It had you looking down, feeling small and weak for a moment. "I told Lisa, I wanted you guys to have some shopping and fun without me breathing down your necks."

Hearing this had the pair of hybrids looking at you with confusion, Jungkook pulling away from you. His lips parted and whether he had a questions or statement you wouldn't find out; Namjoon's voice broke the three of you out of the quiet stare down you guys had going on.

"I think we got everything we need." The ashy haired wolf approached the group, eyes lingering on everyone with an eyebrow raised. Seeing the questionable look you jumped away from Jungkook, creating some distance from yourself and the others.

"If you guys got what you needed we can pay and head out." Ducking your head, you headed towards the register where Lisa stood with a smile. Everything was rung up and ready to go, two shopping carts filled with items the hybrids had picked out. With a quick good day your group left; Jungkook and Jin pushing the carts towards the car while you gripped the single shopping bag from earlier.

"Y/n?" Namjoon was standing right behind you, his deep voice making you freeze on the spot. Slowly you turned and looked at him with eyes slightly large.

You managed to squeak out a 'yes?' and stare at the wolf, wondering what he was going to do. Was he going to go off on your for what happened in the furniture store? Or for leaving and making Jungkook upset? You were on the verge of fidgeting the longer he looked at you. Those eyes scanning over your every feature making your heart beat faster. It was soft, barely heart but you know you did: Namjoon let out a soft whine in the back of his throat, his hand quickly reaching out for one of yours.

"What's wrong?" He sounded concerned, his voice coming out in a hush. His thumb was brushing slow circles on the back of your hand, the gentle action helping quiet your hammering heart. "Did something happen?"

"I... I just thought you guys would want space as a pack." You wanted to kick yourself for sounding so weak and quiet. It seemed to be happening a lot as of late and it bothered you a bit. Closing your eyes you decided to be honest and not dance around the bush. "After all that happened today, I thought it was what you wanted. You seemed upset at the furniture store-"

"Oh angel." Namjoon cut you off with a sigh, his hand pulling you closer. Your eyes snapped open, meeting his gaze head on. The new nickname had your cheeks turning rosy. "I'm not upset. At least, not with you. Jungkook... he did something that I disapproved of." Reading your confused expression he only brought your hand up to his mouth, pressing his lips to the back of it, breathing your scent in deeply. "I'll explain once you read our files, angel."

When you only nodded he raised an eyebrow at you, not pleased with no verbal response. He raised his eyebrow for a second before his teeth nipped at your knuckles playfully, making you leap back and scowl. "Fine, yes!" He laughed at your response, gently pulling you towards the car.

"Let's get the groceries and head home." He laughed again, and looking up you spotted dimples with his wide smile. Grinning back at him you nodded in agreement with only one thought on your mind: You really liked how he said 'home'.

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It was eerily quiet in the large vehicle. The soft sound of the heater flowing through the vents from the front seat would have created a beautiful little bubble in the car. If it weren’t for the two passengers sitting in the back seats, shivering in their thin jackets. They learned quickly that the vents were either broken or the driver simply refused to turn the back vents on. The teasing of the heat that barely reached them would have created a sour mood.  But not today. 

No, today was indeed a perfect day in their eyes. And no amount of cold could dampen the light that their eyes held as they watched the large city come into view. Towering skyscrapers twinkling in the late afternoon, their lights illuminating the grays and whites from all around. The lights seemed to glow brighter as if sensing their hopeful hearts. He pressed his head against the glass, ignoring the biting chill of the surface and watched with wide eyes as the world around them zoomed by. What would they look like? For months he had envisioned what their savior would look like. He wondered what their hobbies were, their favorites, he wanted to know it all. 

The daydream came to an abrupt halt much like the car that screeched to a stop on the side of the road, right outside of an apartment complex. It towered and loomed over the pair as they stared with mouths slightly agape. Was this the place? Was this where they were meant to go? The company gave them zero information on the matter with the exception of one name.

“Get out.” 

The driver’s voice was as cold as the winter winds. Beady, dark eyes glaring at the two from the rearview mirror. One hand was gripping the wheel and the other was on the gear shift. He wanted them out as soon as possible. Obviously he wasn’t a fan of hybrids. It was a common occurrence but still the hate in his eyes had the pair tensing up. 

“B-but which one do we-” The eldest tried to speak up, the cool glare already rattling his nerves. Even his sensitive ears he could hear the insecurity and softness in his words. He wanted to sound brave for his pack but it was hard when his own heartbeat betrayed him. He could have spoken up, perhaps sound stronger but those words died on his lips as the man in front of them laughed. It was scratchy and deep, full of mockery. 

“Like I care. I was told to deliver you two here, nothing more, nothing less. So get out. Now.” He tapped the gas pedal once, cackling as the vehicle bucked forward sending the pair forward into the front seats.

Anger brewed inside but he knew arguing with the older man would only cause problems. Gripping his younger brother's hand he gently pulled him out the doors and into the cold winter air. The lightweight jackets they wore were no match for the icy winds and snowflakes that whipped around them. The moment the door was closed the car screeched off and out of sight. 

“H-hyung, what now?” Arms crossed over his chest, the youngest leaned into the eldest to try and get warm. Pointed ears flattened against his head and bushy tail wrapping around himself as protection. “Sh-sh-should we kn-knock?” 

They both knew that wouldn't work. At least not for them; two hybrids knocking on every door would only have Hybrid Protective Services called. And going back was not an option, at least not for them. Being homeless and living on the street would have been better than returning. Anything would have been better than returning to their company.

Today was supposed to be the start of a new life for them. A new chapter with possibilities and hope for a better future. A fresh start. Was this all a joke? Fear began to creep in as the thought of this all being one large prank grew; giving the two of them one last bit of hope only to have it ripped from them. It was very possible, knowing their company, and the thought had the eldest almost spiraling when a soft voice broke the chain of thoughts.

“Are you two from Faux Inc?” 

A young woman stood behind them, shocking the pair for a moment. Dark hair was glittered in snow flakes, with equally dark eyes watching the two with curiosity and, from what they could tell, hope. She wore a professional pantsuit with a thick outer coat to help protect against the harsh weather. The air she had was calm and collected, though not cool- she was someone who felt dependable, a safe place to land. 

The youngest perked up, tail wagging at the young woman. “Are you Mr. Takoda?” There was a hint of desperation in his voice, fingers gripping his hyung’s jacket. 

She smiled and swallowed the giggle that tried to escape and shook her head. “I’m afraid not. My name is Soojin Seo, I was one of his three assistants. I was informed by your late owner to provide you with a home for a while, letting his niece get settled in before escorting you both to the home.”

“Late owner? Mr. Takoda has passed?” The eldest blinked in surprise, turning to the other. This was not something that they were told. 

“That is correct. However do not worry; his niece will be your new owner. She is slowly adjusting with the changes.” Soojin smiled at the two softly, knowing this was a confusing situation. She could only do her best to help the pair while under her temporary care. Takoda was a well planned out man; she had her instructions and would follow them perfectly. “While she is getting settled, you two will be with me for a bit.”  As she spoke she walked towards a large white SUV, gracing them with a reassuring smile. “I can answer all your questions to the best of my ability on the way back to my home. I’ll do my best to ensure your safety and happiness.”

The two shared a look with the same thought bouncing between the two of them: they had nothing left to lose anyway. Perhaps it was blind trust and the cold, or maybe it was the desperation of wanting a home. Regardless the pair climbed into the warm car, their hands clasped together as questions crept to the tip of their tongues. 

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[quitealotofsodapop]

Some Tang-y asks;

Both asks referencing; this previous about Tang realising his buddies are the Monkey King and the Six Eared Macaque + he's the godfather to their upcoming baby.

Tang is freaking tf out after the shock/fainting wears off. His academic career has revolved around the Journey to the West and connected mythology. Even as a lowly libarian who does mythology talks on the side, even he recognises that this is historical Iridium. He has *The People Who Were There* in his apartment (eating his chips)!!

Afterwards he has a moment of; "Oh gods, I've pretty much adopted the Monkey King." since he's been helping the monkeys learn how to read/write in modern chinese and generally giving Wukong life advice in the manner of a father-figure (all mid-twenty years of him).

And although he def shares all his secret wuxia and isekai fantasies with Macaque (fantasy nerd to theatre nerd communication); he certainly didn't expect to end up like This.

Tang knows he at least has a genetic link to the historical Tang dynasty - something he isn't really proud of since he's been kicked out by his parents. But with all the Monkey King stuff starting to pile up, he wonders...

Then he gets kidnapped by a firey toddler calling him "The Tang Monk", and is told to help out in a super specific ritual that requires the skill of an enlightened sage. Tang faints in the backseat of Red Son's mini-car when the penny drops. His frantic call to Pigsy straight afterwards is a babbling info-dump that sounds more like a cicada screaming.

Bonus ask!: Did Wukong *know* that Pigsy and Tang were reincarnations of his friends?

Sort of.

You see, after the Harbringer accidentally got sealed in Macaque (and the shadow monkey was still passed out); Wukong asked Guanyin to help him seek guidance from his old master - since he isn't exactly able to contact the Pure Lands himself. Guanyin tries calling up the Golden Cicada and... she appears to a confused, bleary-eyed Tang in the noodle shop at like 11pm. Even the bodhisattva is confused. Tang Sanzang/Tripitaka was supposed to be the last Golden Cicada incarnation. Tf is he hanging out on earth for?

Guanyin mentions this fact to SWK, and Wukong has a heart-stopping second of "Oh sweet buddha, Master is alive!!", before the goddess confirms otherwise. Wukong is super-confused, and a little disappointed, but really wants to seek out this new version of the GC even if for his own comfort. He's given a vague direction of where his master's soul is now residing, and the bodhisattva doesn't discourage him from following it. Wukong does hide his main reason for hiding in the city when Mac wakes up.

Eventually as the duo are ducking the sight of curious local demons/human (the meteorite and battle on the mountain def drew attention), Mac and Wukong bump into a strangely famililar face...

You see, after Tang literally glimpsed at the Goddess of Mercy, he became super-awake and rambled to Pigsy about his vision. Pigsy, despite being dismissive of most magic talk, thought that his suspicions of the meteor shower being a "sign" could be correct. The two went downstairs to eat/talk about what Tang's vision of Guanyin could mean.

Ironically, it's Pigsy who catches the monkeys walking down the street. He'd gone out to grab something from the convenience store and saw the two young, kinda skinny-looking, monkey demons arguing and trying to dodge the rain. The ginger-haired of the two shielding the darker-furred one with an old cape.

Pigsy has a moment of "No. No no no no. Good samaritan sh*t only gets you hurt." before he recognises something off about the two "kids" words. And with Tang's talk about having a vision of the Goddess of Mercy...

"Mihou": "This is all your fault!" "Wu": "How is it all my fault?!" "Mihou": "You put this... this thing in me! Now we've got no money, our magic isn't working, we can't go home, and we don't even have shelter for the night! I'm so..." *crying* "I have no idea what to do Wu..." "Wu", holding the other's face: "Hey, hey, it's ok Mihou. We'll figure this out." *presses foreheads together* "I won't let anything happen to you or the ki... guess it's too early at the moment. Egg, I guess?" *goofy, hopeful smile* "Mihou", sniffling: "You're so dumb."

They hear a cough beside them and turn. Wukong looks at the face illuminated by the neon of the storefront like its wearing a halo. It can't be!

Pigsy, holding grocery bags: "Hey... you kids sound like you're in a tough spot right now. If you need a roof over your head 'til the rain eases off, my restaurant is around the corner. Door's opened either way."

Wukong happily jumps at the offer, seeing the familiar glow of his pilgrim brother's soul resting warmly in the cook's body. Macaque is super sus of the situation; he kinda recognises the face infront of him but he just knows it isn't Zhu Bajie. The tired, sincere look on the demon's face is far too unalike the greedy gluttonous fool he'd seen getting his King into so much trouble. Just for now will he trust only his instincts - which at the moment wish for him to get dry.

Wukong sees it as a sign from the Buddha. Clearly someone is looking out for them. Even if this isn't Zhu Bajie, and the man inside the noodle shop isn't his master, then something in the Pure Lands or Diyu has shifted to allow them to reunite in this life - just in time for the King's heir responsibility to be brought into the world.

And then Pigsy ruffles his hair? Calls him "kid"? And then Tang is helping him with his writing? And telling him all the stories he's heard a million times in a way thats never boring?

Wukong feels queasy in a good way. He doesn't know how to describe it. He cries when he sees the silly mock shop logo he drew pinned to the corkboard by the kitchen - pinned amongst the pig-chef's most prized moments in his cooking journey. He doesn't know why he's crying but it feels like something he's been left out of for so long... thats the moment he decides that Pigsy and Tang (+Sandy) would be the godparents of the Egg. He just knows they'd all be great parents cus they already are.

[jadewritesficshere]

18+only

Just thinking about Eddie coming home after a long day of work. You aren't fully sure what he does as a mechanic, but you've replaced your own flat tire once, and you know it's strenuous work. He comes home and looks wore out, his hair is extremely frizzy and he has bags under his eyes. "Hey sweetheart," Eddie mumbles as he kisses you. He still has streaks of grease on his hands that he had tried to wash off.

Eddie goes to take a shower as you try to decide what leftovers to have for dinner. The walls are thin in the trailer, so you can hear him groaning, and not in a good way. You hate that he's in pain. Eddie refuses to take any medicine, partially because he's stubborn and partially because he thinks of hospitals when he takes meds and it scares the hell out of him. Eddie typically would smoke to help loosen up his muscles, but his coworker's drug test came back positive last week and got fired. Eddie refuses to lose this job and quit cold turkey, which he claims he doesn't regret because "I'm gonna be the man you deserve baby, I need to provide for my family" (even if you tell him he already is the man for you and you argue about how he doesn't have to work to be a man, Eddie wants to work hard and not be a deadbeat like his dad. You could go on how not every family has a "manly" figure, which Eddie agrees, you both know it is because he has things he hasn't worked through. Eddie will eventually, but right now he wants to be able to provide and make money the right way, the way your family would expect. He just wants to be worthy of you, which starts a whole knew argument between you two).

Eddie walks out of the bathroom, toweling off his wet hair. He's only in a pair of plaid boxers and he winces as he tries to dry his hair. You decide to forego dinner and gently lead him to the bedroom. "Sweetheart-" you shush Eddie and tell him," Just lay down Baby." Eddie lays flat on his stomach on the bed, head turned slightly to watch as you move around the room. You grab a bottle of lavender lotion and gently squeeze some onto your boyfriend's back. You straddle his thighs so you can support yourself without straining your own back too much.

You start to rub the lotion in and Eddie hums. You press firmly into Eddie's back, feeling the tension in his muscles. You slowly work your way from his shoulders down to his lower back. Pressing gently but firmly, pausing to release a knot. For every knot you press, Eddie sharply sucks in a breath of air, but exhales it slowly and moans as the knot releases. His moans make you shiver, sending signals to your groin. You try not to think of that, but your mind can't help but go to there.

You reach the waistband of Eddie's boxers, and slowly dip your fingers under. Eddie hums and shifts his hips up so you can remove his boxers, which you do, trying not to hurry. You slowly knead his ass, still attempting to give a massage, but your mind stops thinking about the massage as you realize Eddie is slowly rutting his hips into the bed.

"Oh Baby...do you need something?" You can't help the saccharine tone that comes out. Eddie whines and nods his head. You lean forward and place a kiss on his shoulder blade and then his neck. You suck and nip his skin, worshipping every inch your lips can touch. One of your hands sneaks around his waist to stroke his throbbing election whilst the other still palms his ass. The moment your hand touches his dick, Eddie whimpers. You gently stroke him, feeling the pre-cum leaking from his tip.

Eddie is completely relaxed and at your mercy, only murmuring your name, "sweetheart", and "please". You hum and sit back up, looking at the man who is wrecked beneath you. Whilst you jerk him off with one hand, you slowly move your other hand from his ass closer to his hole. You two have never done this before, so you go slowly to allow him time to voice his disapproval. "Can i..?" Your finger gently traces his hole and he's immediately moaning,"please oh God please." Your finger is still coated with lotion as you slowly prod his entrance. Only the tip of your finger is in when Eddie groans loud and long as he cums. Eddie continues to murmur your praises and thanking you as he comes. You can't help but smile at your man, your heart full of love.

[barbiesdelicioustoes]

Grumpy Scaramouche x Reader

Summary: A certain someone feels honoured to be hated by you, however, he secretly wishes it was the other way around.

A/N: I hope to never do anything impulsive in 11:00pm again. Period.

Hatred was foreign to you. an unfamiliar experience as you were forgiving and kind, your understanding personality was incapable of carelessly showing your hatred. Throughout the years, you've learned to suck it up and let it rot.

You loved and you still do, you pour your love carelessly to others, get attached, then cry it out. Eventually, you'd move on. It was a cycle. Everyone told you that you were a fool. Indeed you were, but that didn't stop you from being loving and forgiving.

Admirable you were, loveable you were, how amazing you would be as a lover. Men and even women loved you, yet never had the patience to continue courting you, thus it resulted in you having a few exes.

You've practically never hated anyone so, why do you hate him so much?

Your bestfriend, Kazuha, had currently abandoned you in your classes to assist his father leaving you with a grumpy friend of his to deal with.

"Um, hey?" The attempt was a fail. He simply gave you a glance then went to his phone. Ah, he's not talkative, I see.

Not a single available seat was nowhere to be found, and he's also new anyway, what's the worst thing that can happen with being seatmates with him?

His preposterous personality, apparently.

The first time you had your conversation with him was when he wanted to ask for your notes, as the kind person you were, you lended him some. "Your handwriting sucks." While casually flipping through the pages, your eyes widen at the comment, "Excuse me? You borrow my notes and have the audacity to complain?"

"I'm not complaining. I'm merely commenting on your hilarious notes." A twitch in your eye gave you the realisation, i hate this guy. "Then give me back my notes." You retort, extending your arm to grab your notes but he simply moves it away and sends you a smirk.

"No. It's fine. Whatever."

"What an ass.." You mutter.

The first week passed and god, you never wanted to throw somebody out of the window so bad. Mona was apparently his cousin, which was a shock to you because you were friends with her.

But even Mona complains about his crass mouth and rebellious attitude.

"I pity you, [Name]. He's incredibly annoying and irritating that even you would want to punch his face.*

You only chuckle, finding it laughable because it was true. She celebrated your first hatred for a real living person.

Typically, the two of you would be bickering around the classroom, doesn't matter if it was class hours or on break. Teachers wouldn't let this slide however, you were one of their students that feigned diligence and elegance as Scara was an upper class student with brilliant academic performance, so the only choice left was to simply separate the two of you.

And so you two did separate for.. only a day.

Somehow, just somehow, the adviser put you back together with the excuse of, "You and he are compatible! Great representatives of the school."

You stood there looking like a question mark wondering what kind of tricks fate played on you, but unbeknownst to you, a grape-haired man grins at your stiff figure.

Teachers often paired you two in contests and quizzes held by other schools, surprisingly, both of you actually worked together and passed quite alot. However, inside your classroom, both of you are intense rivals. Constantly bombarding the teachers with question from both of you two, participating in heated debates, comparing scores that was normally perfect, and even if the two of you were groupmates, you'd still battle on who's the better at leading the group.

"No, it's better if we do this before the week of the deadlin–"

"I disagree, I say we do this before two weeks of the deadline."

"That is too early, give mercy to our groupmates!"

"Ugh."

He rolled his eyes and sighed in defeat.

"Oh, thank you [Name]!" Your classmate sigh while clinging to your arm. "I can't believe that jerk! We literally have a month to do this and he expects us to finish it before two weeks!?" You furrow your eyebrows at her remark, feeling an awful need to defend your seatmate. A laugh escapes your lips as you meet a pair of blue eyes.

"C'mon, just leave it. I'll handle the research, alright?" The girl clinging to your arm jumps happily as she hugs you tightly. "Thank you! I'll deal with the presentation." I feel like a mother. "Sure."

"I'll join in on the research." A familiar voice says, leaving you shocked and baffled. You whip your head to question the indigo haired man.

"What?"

"I said, I'll join in on the research."

A murmured 'oh' was all you gave him before raising an eyebrow, "but why? I'm perfectly capable of handling this research."

He leans in more to his chair while keeping eye contact, "i just want to."

"You two have been hanging out quite alot lately." It was clear that Kazuha was referring to your seatmate. "Kazuha, we're seatmates." That didn't convince him however. He leaned in closer to you as you simply stared at him with a frigid expression

"You're not being convincing, [Name]. You know what, I always thought you weren't gonna hate and was patient enough to deal with him, but," He chuckles, "who would've thought you'd hate him?"

Yeah. You wondered why you hated him too.

He did make you furious quite a lot with his snarky remarks and actions, but he never really did anything wrong, did he? But then again, it would be weird if I didn't like him.

So you shrug your thoughts and attempted to change the topic, in which you succeed.

(A disappointed sigh slips from Kazuha's lips when you don't notice his sarcastic tone.)

Ah but there is a saying that, "there is a thin line between love and hate." And god, you hated it.

The way you notice how his eyes widen when he listens to your playlist, the way you notice how his cheeks flushed when you hugged him for the first time, the way you notice how his ears perk up when you mention his favourite artist, the way you notice his sweet messages behind his mean comments, the way you notice how he lets you sleep in his shoulder when you're tired, and god you hated how you notice everything about him.

One week left, and you two are no longer seatmates. You should be happy, this is what you wanted after all right? For him to stop pestering you about his mother's sly girlfriend, for him to stop stepping on your foot whenever you tease him, for him to stop sending mean comments about your notes, for him to–

Are you really happy about it?

Two days.

Two days left.

"Kazuha," the soft call of his name causes him to turn and look at you, "I think I like Scara."

...

"I knew it," A laugh was all to be heard, "Heizou owes me 70 mora, Itto owes me 100 mora, Ayato owes m–"

You were now flushed deep red.

"What!? You made bets?" He cackles before he stares at you seriously in the eye. "Also, [Name], you should confess."

Scara, who you've hated basically almost the entire school year, was now napping on your shoulder and as someone who claims to hate him, awkwardly shifts so he wakes up and adjusts his sleeping position.

"Stop moving." He whispered softly as he furrowed his eyebrows. A sigh left your lips. "Whatever." You sneakily slid the letter you wrote in his bag.

The serene atmosphere makes you ponder and go back to all those times you swore to never, ever like any trait of his. How nostalgic. You gaze out the train window, looking back at memories that amused you.

A deep hue of blue painted the sky as your grumpy seatmate nuzzles yet again in your shoulder. A strand of his hair prods at your ear and you grumble at the sensation.

"Mhm.." You shift your attention to him. "I'll confess.. tomorrow..

That alone, crushed your heart.

What if he was seeing someone?

You never thought of the possibility, considering he barely gets any friends, let alone a crush. But then again, he never really speaks of his love life, does he?

An unsettling feeling crawls through your stomach to your chest, not allowing you to breathe at ease. You hoped your stop would be here soon.

It felt as if years passed by although it was simply 30 minutes. You shake your seatmate to wake him up. He didn't wake up. "Scara.. wake up. I gotta go home." He groggily intertwines your arms together as your eyes widen in surprise. "Scara!" What's up with him today!?

"Ugh." He clicks his tounge before letting you go.

Love. Love, a feeling you experience everyday, even at the tiniest things. Everyone would refrain from calling you a judgemental person full of hate towards others. You love everyone and everyone loves you too!

Although one would feel honoured to be "hated" by you, and that very someone is currently sitting beside you.

At the bench of an amusement park lays you and Scaramouche, as a comfortable silence lingers in the air. You were quite nervous, I mean, the letter contains your confession and you had given it to him.. last week.

The silence was too unbearable, so you decided to break it.

"Haha, uh, well. How was your confession last week?"

Instead of even bothering to reply, he simply glances at you then props his head at yours. As you were about to comment on his sudden affectionate action, he made you still at his next words.

"I like you too."

Perhaps, you really are meant to love.

A/N: I hate this shit

[mac-cheez]

My Guide To Surviving The Waynes

This is inspired by an earlier post of mine and will be in an epistolary/Dracula style in the view of said uni student. I hope y'all like it!

Thxs @arrowheadedbitch for proofread and confidence.

Pt. 2 Pt. 3

--------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Diary,

I'm not a diary person really. I was always told it helps you relax or work through your feelings, but it never seemed worth it...... well not till now. Not till a "normal" morning for me was eating cereal while shouting goes through the house and under threat of death if I finish the milk. This is what's currently happening as I write this on my laptop trying not to spill said cereal. As I listened to another argument between Tim and Damian about something inconsequential (something about galleries robbing banks?), I finally caved and started writing. I figure this could be useful for reference or advice or even study (these bitches are weird as hell). Maybe I should start with how I got here?

I grew up down South. The bible belt was a weird place, but I survived I guess. My parents are loving and as understanding as they can be with their own experiences and opinions. My father is Army so we were lucky to not be on wheels at all times. My only major move was my sophomore year of high school. I decided to apply for the exchange program and was picked due to my fluency in French. I was sent to Paris and, loved it so much I decided to stay. I was able to stay till graduation and still keep in touch with my friends. I know, picture perfect right?

After graduation, I applied to many different Universities and programs hoping for a good criminal justice program to learn in. Forensics was the main interest I was looking for. It just so happened that Gotham University's Forensics and Criminal Justice Facilities just got updated by the Wayne Foundation (probably to deal with the crime problem). I saw that it met all of my criteria and applied not thinking about it. A couple of my picks fell through, but most came back as acceptances. I was about to accept one of my local Universities when I got the Gotham U acceptance letter. It said the usual spiel of "we'd love to have you, blah, blah, blah", I was about to throw it in the pile when I saw one specific detail, "We boast a 95% employment rate of our Science-based graduates."

After some research, I found out that it was true. Most GU grads get hired straight out of school if they have a scientific degree. That paired with the brand new facilities made me reconsider. I talked with my parents, and they agreed that it was likely the best option, but they were concerned about me living in the dorms or an apartment in a place like Gotham. I was about to suggest living in a city nearby and just commuting when my dad asked us to wait for a minute. He made some calls while I talked with my mom about other things concerning the move. When he came back he said he had a friend from work who I could stay with. He told me he had a couple kids my age and plenty of room. It wasn't till I was in the limo with a very nice elderly man on my way to said friend's house that I realized he meant Bruce Fucking Wayne. Once he parked (his name is Alfred btw) I got my luggage out and kinda just stared. He asked to take my bags but I just said no thank you. He hummed and led me to the door. It was quiet when he opened the door which I thought would be normal, but the worry on his face told me otherwise.

Suddenly from the hall, two boys ran by one yelling "MERCY" while the other smaller boy chased him with a sword and........ pink hair? I was concerned, but Alfred seemed more at ease so I tried not to think about it too much. Behind them, a guy came from the same hallway snickering at his phone.

"Master Duke, would you mind filling me in on the situation at hand?" Alfred asked him.

"Oh yeah Alfred, it was hilarious," 'Duke' said laughing, "so Tim put pink dye in the shampoo for Dick and then-," he stopped looking at me. "Uhhhhhhhh, Who's the girl?" He asked.

"A guest of Master Bruce," said Alfred.

"Oh! Oh. Uh, You're not......... ya know..... a guest," he asked.

"No god no I'm not that broke yet," I explained hoping the humor would land.

It seemed to because he immediately brightened and started introducing himself as Duke Thomas, one of Mr. Waynes Wards. I introduced myself and why I was there. It seemed like he was going to ask something when there was a crash and he said he should "make sure no one gets stabbed again".

"Well that was eventful," I said looking towards the hall he exited through.

"I'm sure you'll get used to it," said Afred, worrying me a little. This wasn't an occasional thing?

He started leading me-;skjfbsgdpibzebERROR++vbvnjkm;n;mxcvz;'anrvbA:----

[wonu-won]

Note: This is my first time writing a fan-fic so please don't judge me. You can give me your feedbacks <3 I hope you enjoy.

Word count: 610 (ik it's short. I'll post a part 2 if it gets good reviews)

Summary: What happens when you are going back from work on a Monday evening and suddenly see a sole person drenched in rain weeping at the sidewalk.

It was a dreary Monday in Seoul with rain pouring down relentlessly. Despite of low traffic, I had to drive slowly. I had to catch up on so many things at work today. Exhaustion weighed down on me. I was already dreaming about hitting the couch and snoring for the next 6 hours. As I swerved to the left, I saw a tall guy sitting alone on a bench in the sidewalk with a bouquet of carnations with rain pouring down on him with no mercy. Isn't he cold? I questioned. Maybe he broke up with his girlfriend. Despite my own problems, I was genuinely concerned about his health. I should probably help him, I thought. 

I parked my car next to the sidewalk, and approached him with my umbrella and held it above his head. His tear-stained face looked up at mine. "Are you okay?" I asked him softly. He didn't answer but cried louder. "Let's get you inside the car. You'll catch a cold at this point. Will you let me do that at least?" I asked for his consent. He nodded his head slightly. I grabbed him by his arm, made him comfortable in the passenger seat, and gave him a bottle of water. I went back to my seat and turned on the heater. 

I let him calm down for a few minutes and turned towards him to ask him his destination. "If you're ok with it, shall I drop you off at your destination? I may sound creepy, but I have no bad intentions. I'm just trying to help you out." He looked at me for a few minutes to make sure I'm telling the truth and gave up at the end. "Thank you," he said with a broken voice. I looked at him. I didn't know what to say. I'm not quite good at comforting others, but I tried to say something meaningful. "You know, everything will fall into place once you've figured it out. You don't have to question your worth for it though. It's just how it's meant to be." I smiled. That's what my mom always tells me. Everything is meant to be. He stared at me for a few seconds and told me to start the car.

I inserted the keys and turned it on when he said, "Take me to the Seoul National Cemetery." I've never whipped my head so fast in my life that I could've broken my bone. Now I regret my actions. He stirs uncomfortably in his seat. I decided not to reply to it and just started the car and reversed it. 

Throughout the ride, he faced the window and stared at the buildings quietly. I started to have a small conversation. "Now that I've realized it, I didn't introduce myself properly. Hi. My name is Hwayoung." I smiled while looking at the cars in front of me. He kept staring at my face for a long time. "Uhhhh, what is your name? May I ask?" I asked awkwardly. "I would like to keep it personal," he told me.

I was quite disappointed, but I tried not to show it. Maybe he just needs his space. After all, I'm a stranger to him, I remind myself. Looking at him as a girl, he is handsome. He is handsome enough for girls to swoon over him. His upper body is bulked up, and he has broad shoulders. Sharp chin, fluffy hair, veiny hands, smooch lips, round glasses, and a deep glare. As simple as it is, he is every girl's dream guy. I was brought back from my dreamland when he told me to stop. 

I stop outside the cemetery. He pushed open the door and sped towards the large gate. It was still pouring, and I didn't want him to get drenched again. So, I ran behind him with the umbrella. He stopped and looked back at me. "Can you give me a few minutes? I'll be back. You don't have to follow me," he said. "But you'll get we-" "I'll manage," he interrupted me, and walked towards the nearest headstone and stood in front of it. I turned around to give him some privacy. 

I could hear him crying. It did kind of tug at my heart to hear him cry. "Mom, how are you? I had promised you that I'd visit your grave and bring you flowers on your birthdays. Today is your birthday, and I was going to break my promise. I was going to take my own life, mom. But then this girl came out of nowhere, so generously. She noticed me crying in front of our restaurant and offered to give me a ride. She told me that everything is meant to be, and she probably thinks I'm crazy because I can't stop crying," he snorted. " But, I can't stop crying because her name is Hwayoung. That's your name, mom. You saved me," he said while sobbing.

Fun fact:

1. Carnations have traditionally been the official flowers of Mother's Day for many years, with each colour having a different meaning. Pink carnations symbolise gratitude and love, while red signifies admiration.

2. The meaning Hwayoung is "a beautiful flower"

- Source: Google

I got inspired to write this story by reading a real life story in Pinterest. I've been searching for that pin from 2 days but I'm not able to find it. This part 1 is truly based on the pin I've read on Pinterest. From part 2, it'll be based on truly my imagination.

[hallucinateonpaperspines]

what would Ashley do if she was in the hobbit or lord of the rings verse ?

...

(Cue binge-watching the extended edition LOTR/The Hobbit while rifling through the Silmarillion like I'm possessed)

Me dragging Ashlyn into this world like:

Okay, so let's say Ashlyn is just minding her own business. Just walking through her house one morning, and then what do you know, when she turns a corner in the hallway, all of a sudden she's in a dark forest that looks nothing like the one outside her window.

She stands there for a moment. Just taking it in.

The tree roots twisting out of the earth, thicker than her in some places, the eerie silence but for branches cracking under the stress of the wind, and dry leaves shuffling about. And the smell; something sharp and pungent. Like compost and yeast mixed together.

This is not the woods of her home. This is a forest tinged with something other.

In fact, it's Mirkwood.

But she doesn't figure that out until a little later. Not until she trips on an ever-so-thin gossamer thread and alerts the predators hiding above of a new meal. And as she runs, having flashbacks to a robotic drider as this new monster hisses and gnashes its fangs, Ashlyn doesn't have time to take in any information about this new world. Not of the spider's growingly descriptive screeches. Not of how dying brown leaves are turning a fresh green, and most certainly not the wiz of arrows flying overhead as she ducks and slides between tree roots. It doesn't even hit as Ashlyn accidentally tackles one of her would-be saviors and is met with the pointed-eared edition of Orlando Bloom.

It really only hits once she's been dragged before Thranduil's throne and a very annoyed Elf-King wants to know how a human wandered into the heart of the forest without being seen.

Ashlyn, still working through her minor shock of the situation remains silent and unblinking. She. Just. Stares. Of course, Thranduil being a drama queen at heart, is naturally offended at being ignored.

"Do you still have your tongue, child? Or are rendered mute by your own stupidity?" "Well, clearly being incapable of speech wouldn't have much bearing on intelligence if you're concerned about me undermining your security... unless you had low expectations for your own systems, which would be understandable considering you have spider demons nesting at the heart of your lands."

Tauriel choking back a laugh does not help the situation. Unluckily, the sass is unappreciated and a trip to the dungeons is promptly arranged.

"WAIT! What about a trial? I HAVE RIGHTS!"

Fortunately, the continued sass seems to solidify Ashlyn's growing reputation as a fool regardless of her questionable origins. This is useful. Fun Fact: Not even elves think to look up, and a dungeon carved into rock and spotted with plant growth has so many handholds.

Ashlyn books it immediately, taking a page out of Bilbo's book and dropping out via the underground river.

Following said river, she eventually makes it to Lake Town. The sight of a shivering woman, thankfully, plucks at the honorable Bard's heartstrings, and he agrees to offer shelter for a night.

Ashlyn meanwhile is plotting. The world of Middle-Earth is so complex, so detailed, that there is no possible way so could ever hope to manipulate it. Not without a degree (in spirit or otherwise) in Tolkin. She can't even speak Elvish! It's a small mercy that the Common language appears to be English in the first place!

And so, eating a fishy stew, lamenting the absence of seasonings other than salt, Ashlyn's mind starts to turn. She doesn't know why or how she's here, let alone if there is a way to go back. What she does know is that Lake Town hasn't been burnt down, the Wood Elf King hasn't fixed the barrel-riding weak spot in his security, and that, yes, elf hair is gorgeous and she needs to find out what magical shampoo they're using.

Also, Gandalf should exist around here somewhere.

Gandalf.

The wizard might be able to help her, at the very least he would be a helpful ally, but Ashlyn doesn't know how she would be able to find him. She doesn't know much beyond the basics of Middle-Earth to begin with.

...

But what if she could change that?

And as such, Ashlyn's quest begins. Roaming through the lands of Middle-Earth seeking knowledge of all kinds as well as a weird old grey man who's particularly talented at smoking. Preferably finding said old man before evil incarnate wakes up.

Cue the travel montage and shenanigans as this woman tries to find her way to the Shire, the one place she's sure the wizard will show up at eventually, only to end up virtually everywhere else.

A short detour to the Iron Hills and she learns that Gimli wasn't lying when he preached about dwarven hospitality. Dáin Iornfoot was an absolute hoot, and the food was delicious. One can never go wrong with meat on the menu. That and she managed to nab a few knives and forks before leaving. Very productive stay even if no grey-hatted man appeared.

Mordor? Why yes Boromir, one can walk into it quite easily when one doesn't use the gates and doesn't even know where they're walking in the first place. She managed to learn some orcish curses out of that excursion.

Beorn's farm was a nice surprise, the bear-man was a surprisingly good cook and was kind enough to offer directions.

Avoiding Gondor, Ashlyn did find herself roaming Rohan for a bit. Mucking out some stalls earned her some coin, as well as selling off some of the supplies Beorn gave her. The bear had a nose for quality honey. Fortunately, there is no Grima to tempt her ire, turns out the creep hasn't been born yet, so Ashlyn gets by relatively well. The riders find her ineptitude with horse riding to be simultaneously hilarious and pitiful. Its Rohan. The land of the Horse Lords Girls. They are teaching her how to ride a freaking horse. She takes the free lessons. Both in horse welfare and Rohirric.

 She also takes a horse, but that's another bit of business entirely.

Carrying on, Ashlyn wanders her way through Bree. One night she thinks she might see a bearded child roaming through the wilderness wailing, but the rangers she comes across laugh her concerns off.

She's repeatedly disappointed that none of them go by Strider.

As months go by, she gets a little bit more unhinged. Her hair is a bird nest that would make Radegast the Brown green in envy. Her concept of the timelines becomes more distorted, and a few travelers who come across her ranting to the stars spread rumors of an insane witch wandering the wilderness.

Her Gollum-like attitude towards books does not help this conception.

Gandalf is enjoying himself immensely at this turn of events. It's not every day one has a little fan so determinedly following him. Or one with quiet so interesting luck. He can see why Thranduil has reportedly banned a foul-mouthed and audacious woman-child from Greenwood.

Barely been here for a year and she's already making heads spin. It has been some time since a blessed of the Valar has walked, or skulked, through these lands. The presence of Estë and Lórien is strong with her. Healing and Visions. He can't help but wonder what in potential those two in particular see.

The wizard can't help but smile as he smokes on his pipe and listens to Saruman quake on about a book-stealing wraith that's been disrupting his usual merchant's business.

Perhaps he should introduce himself to the little shadow soon.

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumptober Day 15

"I don't need you to help me, I can handle things myself" / Makeshift Bandages / Suppressed Suffering / "I'm Fine"

Whumper quickly slapped gauze onto the new stab wound.

"I think we've had enough fun for tonight", they awkwardly laughed, "I really wasn't planning on stabbing you, but someone had to be special and fall into the knife."

Whumpee frowned, "I don't need your help."

"Right, just sit still, I'm not purposely trying to hurt you right now", Whumper started to add more pressure to the gauze.

Whumpee pulled away, "I don't need you to help me, I can handle this on my own."

Whumper quickly grabbed Whumpee's face and pulled them close, "I said to sit still, I'm trying to be nice, enjoy it while it last", Whumper spoke through gritted teeth.

"I'm fine", Whumpee squirmed away from Whumper's hand.

Whumper poked around the wound, "you need stitches."

"What?", Whumpee looked at the stab wound, then Whumper.

"You need stitches. It's too deep", Whumper repeated, "I wasn't planning on doing this tonight."

Whumpee started to fall over, Whumper quickly grabbed them.

"Okay", Whumper exhaled and looked at Whumpee as they fell unconscious and sighed, "just had to fall into the knife."

Whumper quickly set to work with the stitches, figuring Whumpee would be easier to deal with while they were unconscious.

Whumpee jumped awake and realized they were now laying in the living room... on the couch. They've never been on the couch or in the living room.

They felt a tight pain where the stab wound was. They moved to take a closer look.

"They already did the stitches?", Whumpee started to touch it to get a better look.

"Don't freaken touch it", Whumper caught their attention. Whumpee hadn't seen them sitting across from them on the recliner yet.

"How did you know how to do stitches?", Whumpee eyed them.

"I torture people as a hobby, I know basic first aid. That's how you keep people alive longer", Whumper stood.

Whumpee whimpered.

"Relax, I'm just looking, and I need to bandage it still", Whumper looked over the stitch work, "it's been cleaned and disinfected, do not touch it. I will deal with caring for it."

"Great you get to touch me more", Whumpee complained.

"I'd rather ensure it heals properly instead of having to amputate or kill you before sepsis does", Whumper started to bandage the wound.

Whumpee looked at them with concern, "amputate or kill me?"

Whumper said nothing just grinned.

"I think I'm going to pass out again", Whumpee leaned back.

"You were out long enough, stay awake", Whumper tapped on Whumpee's face, "hey don't pass out."

Whumpee whimpered as they tried to fight passing out.

"That's a good prisoner", Whumper finished the wound dressings, "let's get some food and water in you. I'll allow you to rest for a few days, don't get too comfortable though.

"No of course not", Whumpee mocked.

"Glad your sarcasm is still in tact, would hate for that to have been stabbed out of you", Whumper rolled their eyes.

"It's how I keep you young", Whumpee grinned, "I have to torture you somehow as payback for what you do to us. You let me get away with it."

"I could have gone without the gray hairs you caused me today. Who taught you to fall into a knife?", Whumper frowned, "I don't let you get away with anything, I kind of enjoy your brattiness though. It's different from the normal begging for mercy my other prisoners do."

"I'm glad to have brought some joy to your sadistic life", Whumpee looked at them, "did you say food?"

"I did, stay here", Whumper moaned as they got up, "thinks I'm their personal chef all of a sudden."

"You stabbed me, I've got to milk everything I can while you let me heal", Whumpee called after them.

"You fell into the knife", Whumper argued as they walked to the kitchen

Later Whumper came back carrying a plate of food.

"Bon appetite, you even get the special treatment of eating what I'm eating tonight", Whumper handed them the plate.

"I guess I could make a habit of falling onto knives", Whumpee looked at the plate with big eyes, "this definitely beats the mush."

"You don't like my mush?", Whumper grinned as they sat down with their plate, "this is not happening all of the time, so I wouldn't make this a habit."

"You know I'm your favorite, just admit it", Whumpee grinned.

Whumper grinned, "what makes you say that? You're the most annoying, the others beg and grovel and do as I say. You don't."

Whumpee looked down awkwardly.

"Fine I'll admit it, I do have a soft spot for you, but don't think too deeply about it", Whumper looked at them, "you are still a prisoner along with the others, speaking of which, I'm sure they are ready for some mush."

Whumper took the plates to the kitchen then went to serve the prisoners their mush.

Whumpee could barely hear the groans from the others. They felt bad for getting special treatment. They knew none of the others would have been taken care of like this. They were also thankful they didn't have to gag down the mush tonight.

Whumper came back after a while, and grinned.

"You all act like my mush is nasty. I've eaten it before, it's not that bad, and it keeps you all alive", Whumper sat back down.

"Can you put me back with them, I feel guilty that I'm getting this kind of treatment when I'm one of them. I'm your prisoner, I don't deserve this", Whumpee didn't look at Whumper, they kept their eyes to the ground.

Whumper sighed, "no, I can't."

"You can't?", Whumpee looked up.

"Nope, I told them I killed you for being stupid and falling into my knife, and I didn't want to waste stitching you", Whumper laughed, "I made two if them cry because they think your dead."

"But I'm not dead", Whumpee started to stand.

Whumper looked at them, "don't you dare stand. I'm going to keep you up here for a while and have some fun with them. They think you're going out with the trash tomorrow", Whumper started to laugh again, to the point they were wiping tears.

Whumper finally looked up at the terrified Whumpee, they got up and went push them back onto the couch.

Whumpee shook when they were touched.

"Oh relax, they all wanted to know what happened to you, I was being sarcastic at first, but when I saw some tears, I just kept going with it", Whumper moved Whumpee back, "I'll just keep you tied up here for a while and play with you, you'll go back down once the stitches are out."

"Then what?"

"I tell them I was lying, and it is their fault for being gullible", Whumper grinned.

"I don't want any part of this", Whumpee stated with a quivering voice, "I thought."

"You thought you were softening me", Whumper grinned, "I said I had a soft spot for you, not that I was going to stop torturing you all. I'm just going to go easy on you until the stitches are done."

"But who knows if it pleases me, I may just keep you up here for a while. Have a prisoner tied up in my living room. That sounds fun", Whumper moved around Whumpee threateningly, "doesn't that sound fun?"

Whumpee fearfully nodded their head.

"Good", Whumper patted Whumpee's cheek, "after all you are my favorite prisoner, maybe I can break your brattiness, though I'll miss it when it finally goes."

Hey, Whumper here, my mush is nutritional and keeps them all alive. Oatmeal, chicken broth, carrots, salt, pepper, and a few eggs. If the shells fall in, it's added texture. Cook it all together and there you go. I even give them fruit when its available. They should be happy I feed them, right?

MJ- Keep in mind I have no idea what that even taste like, I made it up. Please don't trust Whumper's recipe for mush.

Taglist: as always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened