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all-about-seggs · 4 years

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A pact in blood-

Rating: 18+, Explicit

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader

Word count: ~3K

Warnings: Semi-incest (Satoru is your cousin/ distant relative), masturbation, Cunnilingus, fingering, hand job, the relationship is a bit messed up, yandereish undertones.

A/n: This takes place when he's still in the academy.* Image source*

“AA-ahhh! Please don’t- don’t stop…”,

Your broken pleas reverberated through the room as Satoru’s deft fingers worked their way in and out of your sopping wet hole. You gripped the sturdy jacket that covered his shoulders, folding the fabric between your fists was the only thing you could do to maintain the last shred of composure you had.

He was like a passing cloud who offered you momentary relief and was on his way as soon as your were done, the fragments of longings that remained on your body etched deeper after every night.

Position after position, he went from your pussy over his lips to eating you out ass up and face down, all for the pleasure you couldn’t seem to get by yourself. You were now splayed out on his lap, face buried in his neck and one arm draped over him for support. Waves of his sweet scent and the euphoria assaulting your senses at the same time, taking you closer and closer to the edge.

It’s been quite some time now but the memory of your first encounter with your unfairly gorgeous cousin Satoru has been etched into your mind as if it happened just yesterday.

You were in the manor of the esteemed Gojo clan for a family event and even though you didn’t shared the same surname you were related nonetheless and were hence invited. It was a four day and three night celebration where the entire place was abuzz with excitement.

It didn’t really mattered to you, being here with a go with a flow kind of attitude, you just minded your own business until spoken to and not mingling with the faceless crowd of people you didn’t even knew the names of.

Thankfully your room was in the separate building which was a little bit further from where all the riotous events centered around. After just half a day of being in the middle of the chaos you wanted to find a way to unwind and that’s when it happened.

Stark naked and two fingers up your little cunt, there was no explaining or bullshitting your way out of this situation when the heir of the household, Satoru Gojo himself walked in in you. Feeble attempts to cover yourself and half hearted stutterings died in your mouth as soon as the young man opened his.

“ Wrong”, the deadpan reply of his made your already shaken up state worsen. Panic flooding in your system begged you to make excuses or atleast request him to not speak of this to anyone, after all families of high status are nothing if not conservative and you didn’t wanted to cause anyone any trouble.

“ I meant, y/n chan, that you’re doing it wrong”, not paying any mind to your internal conflict he continued speaking form where he stood near the door, “ don’t you know how to masturbate? I thought you were in highschool?”

His genuinely perplexed tone made you reconsider your previous opinions about the heir to the clan. Satoru, a guy who walked in on a relative masturbating, was supposed to show courtesy and leave the second he entered but instead he was rating your technique, which in all honesty may have been lacking indeed but you were desperate to cum and he seemed to pick up on that.

“ Since you’re clearly having trouble getting off”, he loosened the obi of his particularly formal kimono and shifted his uncovered ocean blue eyes towards your form, “Want me to teach you?”, his question made you gulp, then gauge your eyeballs out in disbelief. Sure you weren’t closely related and have only spoken once or twice but you attended all the occasions and holiday celebrations at their place and knew that your relationship was only platonic. His offer to cross that line made you flinch back at first.

Heaving a sigh he closed the door and sat cross legged on the tatami mat next to your futon.

“ Relax, t’s not a big deal”, flashing a toothy grin he leaned forward until your noses touched.

“ Afterall, I AM your big brother”

“ wait- you’re also in highschool!”, You retorted, “ I bet you’re a virgin too. So what CAN you teach me anyway?”, overcoming the initial embarrassment, your mouth started moving in its own accord only getting encouraged by his laid back demeanor.

“ Pfttt- so you get defensive when cornered? How cute!”, he giggled, a smile teasing at his lips at your obvious attempt to hide the shame burning in your core.

“Don’t worry, I know my way around a pussy just fine”, light hearted words fell effortlessly from his mouth and you could swear half of your brain was short circuiting because of his crude way of speaking. For all his regal appearance, he was just like any other highschooler, a year older than you but his stature and delicate features gave him a magestic aura that exceeds that of people decades older than him.

Just by the few encounters from the past, you figured he wasn’t one for following traditions or rules if it didn’t suit him. He was way above the rest, in his own distant world everytime you saw him, the school he went to, the things he had experienced were all different.

Forgetting the other's existence after passing each other by with a few formalities exchanged was all you had done with each. You two were never close or even friends but now the chance presented itself to take your non existent relationship to the extreme end through your bodies.

You wanted this.

To feel good. The hormones of youth pumping your impulsiveness you relax your muscles and lie on your back. You could clearly hear Satoru’s playfully indifferent chuckle from above when you slowly part your legs to show him the sides of yourself that even you have never completely seen.

“Just this once, okay?”

He said he was just teaching you how to masturbate but it wasn’t that simple. The only person to get naked was you and the only person who experienced the mind numbing pleasure, was also you. He only needed his deft fingers and mouth to make you feel better and for a while you didn’t even question.

That one lesson of self pleasure which you both were supposed to forget turned into an entire session as day after day Satoru would show up at your parents house unbeknownst to a soul and you both crossed the same lines of platonic relationship everyday.

The euphoria was endless but with a single rule that you weren’t allowed to touch him in turn and it goes without saying that the two of you never went all the way. It would always start with small talks about the day, even when you’d be talking, all your focus was on what was to come next.

That’s why after a few weeks of the detached pleasure he provided you, it got you thinking what he actually wanted from you. Satoru had already seen, touched and tasted all your body had to offer, never revealing any of his own.

You wondered if he ever felt sexually frustrated by always giving and never asking for anything in return. You knew he was not THAT nice. At least that’s what you believed considering his sadistic streak in bed. He did seem to be enjoying himself when he's messing you up so maybe he didn’t have many sexual urges that he needed to satisfy and was just acting on curiosity or maybe he had someone else, someone older with more experience who he didn’t constantly had a upper hand with and was able to see them as an equal. This thought alone made your chest tight, with an unnatural pain that threatened to break your heart.

You had to catch your darkening train of thought before it reached to the conclusion you were most afraid of. Knowing full well that this was just a fleeting moment that is only supposed to be enjoyed through a lens of carefree thinking, you push the budding feelings of the some very complicated emotions out of your system. The surge of jealousy you felt may have born out of falling in love with a family member but it was wrong on so many levels.

A love that starts with lust never ends well for anyone but as you were laying in his arms, the control over your body handed completely to him, your mind wondered how things would feel vice versa.

“ You seem distracted y/n”, Satoru looked at you, with his glasses off the beautiful azure eyes hidden beneath a delicate layer of white eyelashes filled your vison.

“ I’m obviously not doing it right if you have time to get lost in your thoughts”, putting you down on your bed, he started to move away and for a minute you got your hopes up, thinking your chance to finally have him completely and you cursed yourself for wanting at the same time. But no amount of berating would scrub off the insatiable thirst you had, for its roots had already made their way to your heart.

“Please let me help you too”, these few words took a lot of guts, letting go of all the inhibitions and threads of morality you fix Satoru with an unwavering gaze.

“ That’s okay babygirl, I’M the one who does the teaching here afterall”, you saw what he was trying to do, his airy yet gentle tone didn’t left much room for argument but the gray zone of your relationship was blurring to the point of confusion urged you to give into your clamoring emotions.

Without a second thought you jumped on him with all your might, closing the distance he put within seconds to cover his mouth with yours. You knew how much you weighed but despite your aggressive actions his sturdy form didn’t even deter form his position while catching you. You twirled your tongue over the roof of his mouth, the taste of your juices still lingering in there.

Hoping to have proven your resolve that wasn’t going to settle for getting brushed aside you break the kiss and look expectantly at him. An invisible bond between the two of you taking shape, strengthening the magnetism that attracted you to him.

“ That eager for my cock are you?”, Taking your face in one of his huge hand he makes you look straight at him, “You really want more? More than I'm already giving you?”, just one more push. You thought, with just a bit of coaxing, you were sure Satoru's wishy washy rules would crumble to make way for your upcoming actions.

“ I do. I know exactly what I want but”, steeling your nerves you face him, eye to eye, “ What do YOU want?”. The question was simple but the conflict swirling within Satoru’s eyes was evident and for the first time you realised that maybe this wasn’t just a case of casual hookup for him as well.

“ I want all your firsts. That’s all.” After a short stretch of silence he spoke, ironically the borderline obsessiveness of his glib response, like magic, cleared away the fog was previously clouding your mind. The nonchalance of his smirk should've been the red flag that made you rethink your life choices but the heat of the moment only seemed to ignite your lust.

Not uttering a single word, you quickly work on shedding him off his cloths, he doesn’t make any attempts at stopping you this time around, this knowledge pulling a smile out of you. By the time you reached for his boxers your hands were shaking.

Whether from excitement or nervousness you couldn’t tell but looking down through the veil of his heavy eyelashes, Satoru’s passion was evident.

Eyeing up his exposed body you still for a moment to take it all in. You ran you hands through his sculpted chest and down to his abdomen, your nails scratching the surface of his defined muscles. All of his masculinity contrasted with his oddly sweet scent and velvety pink lips that never failed to lure you in for deep soft kisses.

There’s no doubt girls must be always fawning over him and his perfectly smooth skin was something that even made you jealous. You were so captivated by his looks that you had to shake yourself free from your lovesick stupor .

You feel him up a little, hands running across his toned chest, you drag your nails through the rise and dips of his abdomen down to the contours of his defined V- line before turning your attention to his hardening member. Your breath quickens as your trembling fingers hook beneath his waistband.

Taking out his pulsating member you run your eyes up and down his entire length. He was big, to say at the very least. Bigger than you'd expected and more than you thought you could handle but backing out now would be straight up hypocrisy when your drooling mouth said otherwise.

With your ass right next to his chest, you start licking and sucking his tip with fervour, not wanting to waste even a single drop of his cum that you wanted so bad. You heard him moan lightly behind you, his voice only fuelled the fire that was burning your core. Having never given a blow job to anyone before you struggled in keeping a steady pace and his girthy cock didn’t make it any easier on you.

In just a few minutes you jaw ached and your entire face hurted but Satoru showed no signs of cumming.

In your own world again, you racked up your brain to figure out how to please him when suddenly you felt a hand climbing up your thigh. With the other hand he gripped your hips and pulled your lower half until you were straddling his mouth.

“ It’s a lot better like this don’t you think?”, as he spoke you felt his breath caressing your nether lips and you shivered in delight at the new position.

He snaked his hands in between your thighs and spread open your slit, glistening with your dripping arousal using his thumbs. Every single fold of yours now in display Satoru licked his plush lips before leaving open mouthed kisses on the exposed skin. His lips pulling out a series of appreciative hums as you desperately try to focus on your own actions.

Taking his hard length half in your mouth and half in one of your hand you tried to match the skilful movements of Satoru’s tongue that relentlessly lapped at your clit. After a few minutes of trying and failing to suck him up properly your senses got completely clouded by the heavy onslaught of that familiar release you had gotten used to.

You wanted to ask him to stop so you catch up to him but he the vigor in his actions and your own overwhelming surge of desires made you decide against it, the broken stings of his name died down with you still half choking on his length.

The only thing your lust laden mind could decipher except for pleasure was shame. To you, it was shameful how, being the one who asked to touch him, you were the one tethering near the edge. Before long your convulsing pussy was dripping with your juices, trickling down from his face that was still buried nose deep in your crotch.

Messing you up always filled Satoru with a kind of affection that he didn’t thought he was capable of.

Your cute whines getting muffled by his cock that you could only take half way past your llip sent waves of ecstasy down his spine. The cum that kept on flowing from your aching hole that he was the first to taste and the last as well took him to a high that no amount of pleasure could.

He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to be the provider of your everything who had complete control over you or if he just wanted to spend hours into the night, praising every fibre of your being that was so eager to make him feel good. This duality of his thoughts confused him further and in that moment he knew he had to see this to the end.

Your heavy pants was the only thing that could be heard in the otherwise silent room, guilt and pleasure leaving you tongue tied. You move yourself from above him, your quivering body falling like a sac just beside his own.

“ I’m sorry! I couldn’t make you-“, before you could finish your breathy apology he brought up a finger near your frowning lips to quite you down.

“Its okay sugar, it was your first time. Not a big deal.”, the soft notes of his voice took the edge off of the disappointment you felt, “I told you. I’ll teach you everything.”

Those eyes. Two shining orbs of brilliant blue gazed at you in the same way you found yourself staring at him. Watching over you like it was their birthright and oddly enough, the scrutiny made you feel completly at home just like the warmth of his long arms that wrapped themselves around you.

" Realx Y/n, I'll be very thourough with my teaching, afterall,", your heart thumped loudly in your chest in response to his smooth voice, "I don't do things halfway.

The pleasent fatigue that had taken a hold of your body slowly dissipated but the growing haziness of your mind got you wondering if you were falling in deepness of his ocean blue eyes but as soon realization hit you, you were already halfway through blacking out.

That you’d never be forgiven for wanting.

From that moment on, you knew.

Part 2? Idk you tell me(╯︵╰,)

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojou satoru #jjk gojo #smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen scenario #tw:pseudo-cest #pseudocest #yandereish #my writing

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writersrealmbts · 4 years

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Lonely Little Jack-o-Lantern

Description: Yoonkook x reader, Hybrid Au, Zombie Apocalypse Au. You operate your own little farm, living in an area that doesn’t have as many zombies as other areas, but one day a group of hybrids show up, and the changes are immediate, especially where Yoongi and Jungkook are concerned.

Warnings: Mild language, mild blood and gore (very mild)

Posted: 10/30/2020

Tags/Genre: Yoonkook x reader, hybrid au, zombie au

Sort of Fluff, Sort of Angst: 12,331 words

A/N: This is long as heck, so I hope you guys enjoy it, it’s not the normal zombie au type so bear with me, and I got caught up in details. All the details. But here is your story, @ditttiii, my baby bird. And It’s technically still the 29th, but I was formatting it anyway and thought, hey, only a few hours away for me! Happy almost halloween!

You walked carefully, furtively looking around.

Then you spotted it, lifting your machete….

And quickly sliced down and through it, cutting it off at the neck.

Severing it’s lifeline.

How else would you dispatch it?

You straightened up with a grin, putting your machete again. “Perfect! You’ll make a fine jack-o-lantern! And your buddy will make a fantastic pumpkin pie!”

The pumpkins didn’t respond, not that you expected them too.

You picked the smaller one up by the vine and cradled the other in your arm, humming happily as you headed back toward your home.

Sure, there was a zombie apocalypse going on. In fact, most people had retreated to the shelters and military safety zones.

But…you hadn’t actually seen another soul for a couple months, or a zombie since last spring.

Cold was surprisingly effective at getting rid of zombies. They had all migrated to warmer climates, except for the odd straggler that moved so poorly due to frostbite damage that you easily dispatched them.

You’d taken up residence in an abandoned farm-store, with an attached greenhouse that you utilized to maximize food production (plus several extra greenhouses a ways away which definitely helped, but you didn’t use all of them for obvious reasons). You went on your merry way, making enough food for yourself, plus extra just in case, and setting aside extra goods for anyone who happened to come your way. You’d give them shelter plus some dried foods to take with them as they journeyed onward, and they usually repaid you with a couple days of help around the farm or kitchen.

Heck, last summer, you’d hosted an impromptu wedding. The group had been traveling together, both families having been together to meet one another before the wedding, and the groom’s father was a priest. He basically ordained you before he left, even told you where to look for legal documentation at the courthouse for if you ever needed to conduct another wedding.

At this point, the ceremony was more of a comfort sort of thing. A long-held tradition to bring a sense of normalcy to the abnormality of the life everyone now lived.

You paused once you reached your home again, feeling as though something were off.

Slowly you lowered the one pumpkin to the ground, grabbing your machete again.

Then you spotted them. Five figures, moving slowly, just shapes at the moment.

You scooped up the pumpkin again and quickly went inside, putting up your defenses just in case after depositing your pick onto the floor. Then you went out around the back to secure your livestock, which mostly consisted of birds that you had adopted from the abandoned homes and farms around you, a few rabbits, three goats (that you honestly only sheltered for the night, they did their own thing and you let them), and a little piglet that a passing family had left with you a few months ago (the runt of the litter, very weak at the time but slowly growing under your care). You went down the street every morning to milk some of the cows that lived there. You didn’t know enough about them to fully care for them, so you weren’t entirely certain what to do for them, but there was a farmer that came up once or twice a summer to check on you and the cows, and the small herd of cows hadn’t suffered yet. And you had butter, cheeses (when you didn’t mess up the process), canned milk, condensed milk, sweetened condensed milk, and had even tried to make yogurt once or twice (it didn’t go well).

Your next foray would be trying to milk the goats, something you’ve been avoiding because you’d never liked the goat products your family had always pushed on you when you were younger, but desperate times and all.

But that depended on you protecting your home today.

They were moving pretty slowly for humans, but not quite as sluggishly as you would have expected of zombies.

You would have to wait until they were closer.

Whatever they were, they still hadn’t spotted you, even as they got within a 100 feet of you.

“Halt! Identify yourselves!” You called out, pointing the rifle at them.

They stopped, some of them raising their hands, most of them looking surprised.

“We’re just passing through, trying to find our way to the sanctuary!” One of them called.

All of them were men, which made alarms go off in your head.

“You know you’re going the wrong way, right?” You asked, really not buying that story.

Until they all drooped and started griping at each other in a foreign language.

“Hey!” You yelled. “Still waiting!”

“Right, sorry, sorry, um, we were at the Cherimo base, but it was being evacuated, and we were on a smaller plane and it crashed…and…we’re lost…” The one that had spoken before said.

You studied them for a while. You had heard over the radio that something was going on due to resource loss, but the signal had been fuzzy and you weren’t sure why they would….

Was that a tail?

Oh.

“Are you hybrids?” You asked, lowering the rifle carefully.

One of them nodded before the spokesperson, then nervously halted when he saw the others weren’t nodding.

You lowered your guard a little more. “Let me guess, autopilot failed?”

They all nodded this time.

It made sense. If there were limited resources, why wouldn’t they get rid of lifeforms they deemed less useful. Nevermind that so far hybrids had shown more immunity to whatever it was that made people zombies. If one of them were bitten or injured by a zombie, as long as they cleaned the wound thoroughly and quickly they wouldn’t turn.

“It…it seriously hurt one of our friends. The other stayed behind to take care of him, and we were supposed to find help. That was a couple days ago though….” The spokesperson said, voice trailing off or choking up.

You bit the inside of your lip, looking at your home from the corner of your eye, then sighing and putting the safety on. “Alright. I’ll get the truck ready, but if there are two people there, I can only take two extra people. The rest of you will have to stay here.”

“You’ll help us?” The spokesperson said, sounding completely surprised.

You nodded, heading toward the door to unlock it. “But there are going to be so many ground rules. First of all, I’m allowing you into my home, don’t make a mess of it. Drink as much water as you like, it’s clean, and I’ll cook something when I get back. But you can’t sleep here. It’s too dangerous for me. You can sleep in the greenhouse, or you could try the farmhouse down the street. I’ll make an exception for your injured friend and one other to keep him company. And I’m still going to be celebrating Halloween in a couple days, so deal with it.”

He was translating, but they already seemed to be agreeing.

You ushered them in while you got the keys to the truck. “Names?”

“Kim Namjoon,” The spokesperson said, “Fox is Jimin, Otter is Hoseok, red panda is Jungkook, and Taehyung is the bear.”

You paused to study him. “And what, exactly, are you?”

“White-nosed coati,” He answered, nervously.

You blinked at him, then shook your head and kept moving. Grabbing your first-aid kit (had you raided the emergency medical center a few miles from your home? yes, yes you had) and heading out to the truck, you didn’t bother looking to see who would join you.

It was Namjoon and the red panda, who thankfully looked strong. Jungkook?

They guided you back to where the plane had crashed, which wasn’t too hard after you got in the proximate area thanks to whoever it was that had stayed behind keeping a nice, smoky fire going.

But they hadn’t been joking.

Their friend was seriously injured.

The other looked up, obviously scared and desperate, relief visible when he smelled his friends, calling out to them in their language.

You hurried over, not caring about the snarl he emitted as you got close.

They had strapped him down carefully, so he couldn’t injure himself by moving, which was good, but….

“Yoongi, she’s here to help,” Namjoon said, more firmly.

You bit your lip. “Get him in the bed of the truck. We need to get him back to a clean environment, get him fully hydrated so that he can replenish any blood-loss, and then I’m going to have to clean and suture his wounds. Someone get the tailgate.”

The four of you quickly moved, but carefully got him into the truck and made sure he wouldn’t get jostled around too much. Then you drove carefully back to your home, parking as close to the door as possible.

You hopped out and hurried inside, rushing to the basement to grab some of the supplies you kept in the cold down there.

It was a slow process, especially since you kept double checking with the medical books and manuals that you were doing the right thing, but the other boys were patient. Namjoon reading it again aloud if you were uncertain, and reassuring Yoongi that you were being careful and doing your best.

So you had his wounds sanitized and stitched, had carefully given him some medicine to fight any infection that may have started despite the dedicated care Yoongi had provided, and all of you had decided that an I.V. was too dangerous to attempt without further research and verification.

And he was partially conscious by the time you finished, so you all just resolved to carefully give him lots of water (he was no longer strapped down, they knew his neck and back weren’t broken, they were just trying to keep him still), and he was carefully propped up in your guest bed by two in the afternoon.

You left Taehyung carefully giving him sips of water, closing the door softly to limit the stimulation.

“Thank you,” A voice said quietly, accent present.

You turned toward the voice and spotted Yoongi, head down. “No problem. He’s okay for now, I think. I’m not exactly a doctor or a nurse, but I’ve done everything I can.”

He nodded slowly, but you weren’t sure how much he actually understood. You thought he must have understood most of it, though.

You nodded as well, then took a deep breath…and turned away, heading for the kitchen. “Let’s get you all something to eat.”

They hesitantly followed you into the kitchen, peeking around furtively, and sticking to the spots that seemed to be out of the way.

You glanced at them, then grabbed a couple jars of chicken broth. “Well, are you going to stand there, or are you going to help?”

“Help,” Yoongi said immediately, stiffly walking a little further into the room.

You nodded, then pointed toward the pantry. “In there are potatoes, carrots, and onions. I need two onions…eight red-skin potatoes…and ten carrots. Could one of you go into the greenhouse, through that door, and get me three stalks of celery?”

Namjoon relayed the message and Jungkook nodded eagerly, heading that way.

“Garlic?” Yoongi asked, bringing out the other things.

You contemplated, then shrugged. “Sure, but only one or two cloves.”

He nodded again and headed back into the closet.

You glanced at the other three, then pointed toward the pantry. “In there, rice. Fill this.” You set a measuring bowl out.

Jimin (?) nodded and took the bowl, heading in to find the rice.

You got the jumbo-sized pot out and some of the butter and oil, but didn’t turn it on yet.

Jungkook came back with the celery and you smiled your thanks, getting a cutting board and a knife to carefully cut it up. Then you turned on the stove on a low setting to let the celery cook a little longer.

You had Hoseok (?) peeling the carrots, with instructions on how to chop them afterward.

Namjoon was washing the potatoes.

Jimin was carefully washing the rice.

Yoongi was chopping the onions.

You set Jungkook to mincing the garlic so you could pay attention to the cooking celery, and trying to remember what else you put in the soup. “Jimin, can you go pick some spinach? Fill this bowl, the tiny spinach, though.” You set a bowl down on the counter.

Jimin looked uncertainly to Namjoon, who translated, then he nodded, and headed out into the greenhouse.

Hopefully he knew what the spinach looked like.

Yoongi brought you the onion and you dumped it into the pot.

“Can you go get green onion? Just a small one,” You asked.

He blinked, then nodded, heading out.

You grabbed some eggs setting them nearby for when the onions were ready, and accepting the garlic from Jungkook, but keeping it to the side for the moment.

You handed the spoon to Jungkook. “Stir now and then.”

He nodded confidently.

You grabbed a pan and some of your cherry peppers and mini-sweet peppers. You cut them into chunky pieces, not too big, then coated them in some oil and put them in the oven under the broiler for five minutes, initially.

Jimin came back with the spinach with Yoongi, who had the green onion you had requested.

Jimin took all of it to the sink to wash it, asking something in Korean.

“He wants to know what you need done with the rice and the spinach,” Namjoon translated.

“Spinach can be coarsely chopped, just keep the rice set aside. The potatoes can be cut, somewhat large…um…” You looked around, then pulled the pepper chunks out of the oven. “Slightly bigger than this.”

Namjoon translated.

Hoseok nodded, grabbing the scrubbed potatoes and waving Namjoon away.

You continued watching to make sure they understood, then nodded and went back, checking to see how the onions were cooking, then adding the garlic.

Jungkook looked curious, but also frustrated, like he wanted to ask something but wasn’t entirely certain how.

You cracked half of the eggs into a dish to whisk them up, opting for more eggs since it meant more protein and you had a ton of them anyway. Then—pushing the onions, garlic and celery to one corner—you poured then eggs into the pot and then plonked the lid on for a couple minutes to let the egg cook a bit.

Jungkook stared at the lid, then looked at you, still seeming to lack the words to inquire.

You shrugged, gathering the peppers, and then quickly chopping the green onion, the green part a little bigger than the white, and tossed both of those into the pot when the egg seemed to be the right amount of cooked. Stirring carefully, not wanting to break up the eggs too much, but also wanting to let any uncooked egg have a chance and free the onions, garlic and celery from their eggy prison.

Dear god you hoped this would taste okay.

You boldly poured in the chicken broth, making sure nothing was clinging to the bottom. Then you added the rice, spinach and potatoes and left it to come back up to simmering while you pulled the extra chicken you had cooked out of your cooler. You had planned on making chicken stew, maybe cooking up some dumplings, but…you could tell they were hungry and this would be faster than chicken stew and less nitpicky.

You paused before starting to cut the chicken, quickly going to grab some seasoning and being very careful about measuring that up.

“What is this called?” Namjoon asked, gesturing to the pot.

“Would you believe chicken and rice soup?” You asked, going back to the chicken with a knife. “If you hadn’t noticed, I was kind of winging it. Hopefully it will taste okay.”

Yoongi gave you a thumbs up. “Thank you.”

You nodded. “It’s not much. We don’t even know if it will be good.”

“Still,” Yoongi murmured, shrugging and looking away.

You quickly looked back down at the chicken. “You all are the first people I’ve seen in a couple months. Don’t get me wrong, I love living here. It’s probably safer than even the military zones. The zombies can’t withstand the winters and it makes them easy to dispatch.”

“Lonely,” Jungkook murmured.

You shrugged. “Even in a crowd, people have the ability to feel alone. I think actually being alone is better. Then at least I can’t resent others for not noticing me. It’s an apocalypse. At least I chose this life. No one forced it on me, not the apocalypse, not a plague. I chose this for myself. There’s a sort of satisfaction in that.”

Yoongi came beside you, cat-like eyes flickering over the chicken you were shredding. Then he met your curious gaze, holding it for a long moment.

“I suppose that makes me lucky,” You added. “To be able to decide my own life.”

He blinked slowly.

You shifted on your feet, unnerved.

“Uh, the pot….” Namjoon said, voice nervous.

You broke away from Yoongi’s gaze, and turned toward the pot.

It was boiling, so you turned down the heat for the moment and gave it a stir, then went back toward the chicken.

Yoongi had already taken over.

You stared for a moment, then went to wash your hands. “This place runs on solar power, and has a well. Normally, when I have people here they exchange work for a place to stay for a few days. Your friend is in no shape to be moving anywhere—”

“We’ll happily help you with anything you need,” Namjoon said quickly.

The others were nodding in agreement as he quickly translated, all looking scared and somewhat terrified.

You held your hands up to stop them before they continued down the panicky path they were treading. “I was just going to say, that you can stay as long as you need while your friend is recovering. I’m going to go check on your friends.”

They nodded.

Jungkook followed you out and into the bedroom again.

Taehyung and Jin were asleep.

You carefully closed the door, then studied Jungkook for a moment, noticing a tear in his shirt that looked pretty big. “Are you hurt?”

He glanced down, then looked sheepish and shrugged.

You pointed to a chair. “Shirt off.”

He carefully removed his shirt, obviously in pain from the gash on his ribs.

You could just hit him upside the head. All that lifting he did!

So you did. “Don’t do stupid things like lifting people when you’re injured.”

He looked at you with wide eyes, and you don’t know how much of it he understood, but his cheeks turned red and he looked away quickly.

You went and got water and a cloth, then knelt beside him to carefully clean the wound. You tried not to notice how well-muscled he was, or how he looked much less innocent like this. Sure, he still had an adorably bushy tail, but—

You flinched as a hand rested on your head, lightly stroking your hair, peeking up to see Jungkook mesmerized by your hair.

He grabbed your free hand, which you’d put out to balance yourself when he startled you, and brought it to his heart.

You could feel it racing, and you locked eyes with him.

He shyly looked away after a moment.

You swallowed hard, then finished cleaning his cut, wiping some antibiotic ointment on it carefully, and then bandaging the area. “There. No heavy lifting for a while. I see you overworking and we’re binding your whole ribcage.” You stood up and packed the first aid kit up again, then hurried back into the kitchen.

You stirred the pot, pulling some rice to test it. “Not yet. Tomorrow, I thought a few of us could venture to the local stores and get all of you some extra clothing and shoes and other supplies. Only those of you who aren’t injured, though. There are monsters hiding out in some of the stores still. That means no Jungkook, and no Jimin—I saw you limping.”

“Jungkook?” Yoongi asked, eyes widening.

You nodded, turning to glance at Jungkook as he followed you in, shirt back on. “He has a nasty cut on his ribs. He shouldn’t have been doing any of the lifting he did.”

All of them started ragging on Jungkook, who was sheepish.

Yoongi was over beside the red panda hybrid talking lowly, quickly, and somewhat sternly.

Jungkook nodded, slouching to rest his head on the cat’s shoulder.

You added the chicken to the pot to distract yourself. You’d never really met any hybrids, except a couple of your childhood friends’, but you figured the scenting you were witnessing was more of a private thing from the way the others sort of averted their gazes.

But you were also morbidly curious.

Yoongi came over a few minutes later. “Seokjin?”

“Sleeping still. It’s good for him to rest. How much English do you understand?” You asked, turning a little.

He sort of shrugged.

“Sorry I can’t speak your language,” You said a little more quietly.

He shrugged again. “You…nice. Keep going.”

You blinked at him for a moment, barely registering Jimin in the background making a lot of complaining-type noises. “I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean, but…thank you?”

He nodded, looking embarrassed, then mumbled something to Namjoon.

Namjoon looked reluctant.

You studied the room.

Namjoon finally turned to you. “Yoongi was wondering how much you understand about hybrid situations during this…pandemic.”

You carefully tasted the broth as you debated how to answer. “I know…that many hybrids have been used as…stress relief for certain clientele to boost morale. Illegally. Others trained as foot-soldiers in the war against zombies. Sent to a slaughter.”

“Yeah. We were transferred to Cherimo six months ago. We were more for shows than anything too….” He didn’t seem to know how to continue.

You stirred the pot nervously. “Shows?”

“Music,” He reassured you. “But…they were talking about us…taking on second jobs. Just before the crisis. Then we were determined to be expendable.”

You nodded. “I understand. Well, once you’ve recovered, we’ll see about getting you all set up on your own, where no one can determine what you can or can’t be. With any decency, you’ll never have to face such threats again.” You tasted the rice again and nodded firmly. “Well, threats from zombies always exist nowadays. Soup is done. Someone grab the bowls from that cupboard.”

Jungkook was hurrying to do as you asked, getting out the four bowls you had, and then looking worriedly in the cupboards.

You went over, opening the one he hadn’t looked in and pulling out assorted other bowls. “They’re all sort of scavenged. I’ve never really needed more than six bowls before today. Guess we should pick up more when we break into the store tomorrow. I think Seokjin should just have broth for now.”

Jimin nodded, taking the bowl of broth you’d ladled out and heading back toward the room.

You gestured for the other boys to get food for themselves, not exactly hungry yourself since you’d had a decent breakfast and instead opting to bring up your pumpkins. One to carve, one to eat. And then you’d also be able to roast any pumpkin seeds to munch on throughout the winter.

Jungkook, Yoongi, and Namjoon stayed in the kitchen while they ate, mostly watching you as you prepared to cut open the pumpkin you were going to carve.

“What…are you doing?” Jungkook asked carefully, quickly filling his mouth afterward.

“Making a jack-o-lantern. I’m going to gut this, then carve a face into it and pretend it’s a normal Halloween occurring in a couple of days.” You managed to get the knife through the thick rind, then carefully cut open the top of the pumpkin.

It took a while for Namjoon to translate since he’d been in the middle of inhaling his food, but after he did, Jungkook nodded, still looking curious.

Yoongi seemed indifferent, mostly muttering something that alerted Jungkook to the fact that his soup still existed, and giving Jungkook a big chunk of chicken.

“Where do you get things like flour and rice?”

You made a face. “Well, most of it I pilfered from stores. I was lucky to find this place early on, lived about a half-hour drive from here, and they had some things. There are stores equidistantly around here: One to the south, one to the north, and one to the east. West is more farmland and forest mix, as you probably surmised by the drive to your crash site. And there’s a farmer to the south that I do work exchange with. He grows wheat, corn, and sugar-beets, and helps me with some livestock. He in turn knows a guy to the east that’s been running some flour and sugar-beet processing, so he’s been providing me with some flour and sugar when he gets the chance.”

“And what do you do for him?”

You pointed to your basket of eggs. “His wife is allergic to feathers. I provide them with bird meat, and eggs. And I can grow things here throughout the winter, and I have a pretty efficient canning process going here. We just exchange goods and services. Nothing else. His son came with him once last winter. They were out of greens. Thankfully, I had enough for what they needed, and sent them home with plenty of greens and some extra goods to help them out. There are benefits to being a party of one, just as there are downfalls.”

“Being lonely,” Yoongi said quietly, not missing a beat and not looking your way.

You shrugged. “But I get a lot done. And I know that if I need company, it’s not terribly far to where his family is. The rule is to bring some goods though. Like, his wife came to visit me sometime in January—they have a horse and wagon that he rigged a heating system in—and she brought me a cherry pie. I spent Christmas with them, and took an apple and a pumpkin pie. That sort of thing. And if you guys settle near here, then we’ll probably do trades with you guys as well. And if you don’t, that’s fine too. What I’m saying…is that solitude isn’t quite so terrible when you know that there is someone around if you really need them.”

Jungkook had moved closer, watching you scrape out the pumpkin guts with clear curiosity.

You glanced at him again, then turned your attention to carefully cutting slices of pumpkin flesh from the inside of it, not wanting to waste any of it. You were determined to experiment more this year, try not to waste anything because it was…hard. Hard to make everything count, and with seven extra mouths eating you were going to need to make every bit count. You had multiple foods curing in the sun so that you could store them on the shelves in the basement, but still…even though you’d been doing this a while, it was always a curious thing trying to figure out if you had enough food for the winter. And it wasn’t as though you could do much about it with it being the end of October.

“How much warning did you get?” Namjoon asked, the first question he seemed to have himself.

You gave a half-laugh. “Well…we knew about the outbreaks in Europe, Asia, Australia, Africa…and my family was already taking it seriously. My parents decided to move out to live with my brother. I was still working, and printing off binders worth of information. No one ever thought to hit bookstores. My dad had started buying gas-tanks and filling two whenever he went to get gas. Left that for me since mom wanted to be by my brother and his family.”

“You didn’t go with them?”

You shrugged. “Half-brother? Not on the best terms. We would have killed each other. As it is, we talk on the sat-phones on Mother’s Day and Christmas. Everyone thought the world would shut down completely, but it didn’t. Anyway, I was banking on them surviving. As much as we don’t get along, my brother is a former marine and his neighbors are well spaced and consist of an older trapper and his wife, a marine buddy of his with his wife, and a cattle ranch. They’re doing great. And I got enough plants and seeds and information, not to mention people raced to get out of the area when they were told it was safest to get to a fort or the nearest Military zone. I hid in the basement for three days after that announcement, but nothing happened to me. I stayed at the house for a month after, packing the truck and trailer. I had my car still, with a full tank of gas, and I went around to see what things were like. There were still a few groups evacuating, but no one really paid attention to me. Met the owners of this place, asked if they were staying or going. They were older, and had been planning on selling the place before all of it went down. I gave them a wad of cash and a box of canned food, they gave me the keys. Everyone I did meet thought I was crazy. I was very careful about moving everything, and I kept everything locked up tight.”

“When did the zombies hit?”

“About this time that year. I remember because I thought it was ironic that the zombies would finally show up around Halloween. They were pretty bad that fall, and into December because it wasn’t as cold of a winter as normal. But January swooped in like a champ with below-freezing temperatures and lots of snow. I was lucky. Very lucky.” You finished picking the seeds out of the guts (at least, you were fairly certain you had removed all of them). “The cell towers were still work intermittently, so I can look up information quickly if I want. And the powerplants…they were still running until December. But hey, I’ve got three generators, and a crap-ton of car batteries for powering extra things, like the greenhouses.”

“Did you farm before this?”

You wrinkled your nose as you thought about it. “Honestly? Not to this extent. I’d thought about it, but the most we ever had was a vegetable garden and a couple of fruit trees. To say there was a learning curve would be an understatement. But I got through it.

“Scared,” Jungkook asked, gaze locked on you.

You shrugged. “Who isn’t? Would you like more soup?”

He looked at his bowl, then looked toward the pot.

“You guys can just help yourselves. I’ll probably eat later.” You picked the knife up again, seeing the end of the conversation in sight once more. Less distraction while holding a sharp object. Sure, what you were cutting out of your jack-o-lantern wasn’t going to be pretty, but you could roast the, up like fries and that would be really yummy. Or you could try to make a pumpkin spice something or other. You weren’t really sure what you would do with all of the pumpkin innards you were breaking out.

You just knew the shell was getting a face.

You paused, turning back to the egg basket. “I never let the animals out again.”

Someone followed you as you rushed out the back door to the small stable/barn/shed that you had shooed the animals into (that weren’t already secure in their own pens, mind), opening the doors to the fenced area for the pig and goats to run around, including your favorite pygmy goat that you honestly rescued just because it was cute. Whoever it was helped you shoo the ten chickens, two turkeys, three ducks, and one grumpy goose out into the bird run.

“Go on chicks. Guster! Get your tail-feathers through that door,” You scolded, picking up the grumpy goose and essentially tossing him through.

He landed just fine, honking angrily at you.

The ducks were happily settling near you, but you carefully shuffled them through the door.

The turkeys had gone through the moment you opened the door, the smarty-pants.

As for the peafowl in the pen on the other side of the property…well…as pretty as they were, you pretty much just fed them and cared for them because you felt bad for them. Sure, you had lot of pretty feathers for crafts in wintertime, but they were loud. And picky. And they ate so much, and needed warmer, dryer, well-kept pens.

But they were also very sweet and probably hand-raised because they always came right up to you.

Without a feed source to purchase for them, you hadn’t thought they would survive this long, but they were still plucking along. You let the male out during the hot days of summer to roam, but he always came back just in time for you to put clean water and whatever treat you’d scrounged up.

You’d let all of the birds out when you’d been tilling, letting them get the grubs and ants and other insects that were in your way.

The ducks would usually go down to the pond, but you’d just cleaned out their swimming pool, so you figured they would be fine as long as Guster didn’t decide they weren’t allowed to be there.

You would have to add more minnows to the pool.

There were so many things you hadn’t considered when you were setting up everything and rescuing the animals you did, that you just sort of figured out as you went. Like, hey! If you capture some minnows and raise them you can give them to your ducks and geese and they will adore you for centuries.

You had to raid the U-Haul and get a bigger transport vehicle, then raid a bunch of farm and pet supply stores. Then again that would use up a lot of gas as well.

“Uh…sheep?”

You turned around, looking at Jungkook, then at the goat that was trying to eat his shoe-laces. “Goat. Carl. Just push him.”

He did, and Carl plodded away.

Yoongi was also there, holding an egg and looking curious.

You glanced around, then grabbed an egg-carton. “Guess we should check for more eggs while we’re here.”

They nodded and helped you search, noses twitching and active as they explored the nooks and crannies.

Four eggs wasn’t bad considering you’d just collected eggs that morning. You’d put them in with the broody turkey. She’d hatched at least half of your chickens, and your third duck. She was your most valued asset.

The boys stood well-back while you carefully pushed her from her nest from behind, and placed the eggs before she could attack your hand, then closed the back hatch.

She was happily situated once more when you peeked in.

“Great. Okay. I need to make the trip across to the other pen, and then go down to see the cows this afternoon. But I need to show a couple of you what to do since we’ll probably be gone most of tomorrow,” You spoke, not really expecting a response.

Jungkook caught your wrist. “Me.”

“Alone?”

“You are alone.”

“But I’ve had practice. At least get Jimin and…who else is staying behind tomorrow? Besides Jin.”

Yoongi shook his head. “Jungkook and Jimin.”

You nodded. “Okay, then at least get Jimin to come see what to do as well. Don’t rush. We’re heading toward that building.”

He looked and nodded, then jogged away.

You huffed. “That boy.”

Yoongi made a soft sound, like he agreed but was also amused.

You turned to him. “Does it bother you when I just ramble on?”

He shook his head, a certain intensity in his gaze as he met your eyes that made it hard to continue meeting his gaze.

But impossible to look away.

His ears twitched, but they were angled toward you. His tail flicked as he stepped closer to you.

Warning lights went off in your head. Seven men. One girl. Alone.

You whipped around as fast as you could and started walking, grabbing the bucket of feed you’d prepared earlier. “Welp, let’s go. I’m sure they’ll catch up with us soon.”

And you swore you heard him hiss in surprise, and you just wanted to laugh at how ridiculous you were being and how ridiculous this situation was, but honestly who would have thought—

You squeaked in alarm dropping the bucket and running back toward the house to grab the rifle and the axe, then racing back toward your peacocks to save them from the zombie.

Yoongi gladly accepted the ax, hurrying after you, but also staying a good ways back so that you would have time to shoot the thing so he could chop it’s head off.

You’d become a very good shot in the past two years.

Yoongi looked like he might be sick after cutting its head off.

You didn’t blame him.

Wordlessly the two of you dragged it a place where you could bury it when you got the chance.

Jungkook and Jimin were there when you two returned, with Namjoon to translate.

Poor Namjoon.

When you were finally done instructing them on the peacocks, and the other animals on the property, you all headed down the street to the cows.

Jungkook fascinatedly touched the cows, while Jimin and Yoongi crouched beside you to learn.

And Yoongi was only gulping several times while he watched the milk tin you and Jimin filled, one cow after another.

The boys were also teasing him, and though he refused to give them much of a reaction, his cheeks were a little red and there was a twitch at the corners of his mouth that hinted at a smile and man that was adorable, especially with how his eyes closed slightly and his hair—

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

Nope.

Nuhuh.

Stop it.

“So, what do you do with it now?” Namjoon asked.

You shrugged. “Take it home, separate the cream, pasteurize the milk. Then I’m either going to drink it or make something out of it.”

“Cool,” He replied, then translated, but you got the feeling that only Jimin really needed the translation as the two of them walked away, Jimin carrying the container effortlessly.

Jungkook and Yoongi walked with you, looking around at the farm while you got the cows some fresh hay, and inspecting the houses that the three of you walked past on your way back.

“Where did they go?” Jungkook asked carefully, looking at each abandoned house.

“I don’t know,” You answered quietly. You’d been to each house. When you finished your chores in the winter you amused yourself by inspecting the houses around you. Gathering furniture and supplies that you decided were needed.

“You live there,” Jungkook asked.

You shrugged. “Yeah. It made sense. Live where you work. I was just lucky that they had an extra room attached to the store area that I could turn into my room. I’ll probably just sleep in the kitchen, though. It’d pretty comfortable there once I set up the cot. Nice and warm.”

Jungkook paused by one of your smaller pumpkins that was sun-cured and awaiting transport to where it would be resting for winter or for later processing.

You paused as well, then picked it up. “Come on, panda boy. You can carve one too.”

Yoongi started purring but quickly coughed to cover it.

The other boys were distracted, talking with Taehyung quietly but animatedly, and the door to the room where Seokjin lay was propped open slightly. Seokjin was asleep and Taehyung was eating, cheeks bulging slightly from how much food he’d shoveled in.

Felt good to have your food appreciated, even if they were only eating it because they were half-starved.

Yoongi and Jungkook followed you into the kitchen (Yoongi moving the milk pails, that Jimin had left on the floor near the sink, onto the counter for you).

Jungkook went at his pumpkin carefully, but the one time he didn’t do something carefully he earned a low growl from Yoongi. He proceeded to stick his tongue out at the feline, and continuing carefully.

You pushed the bowl of seeded gut, unseeded guts, and seeds toward Yoongi with a grin.

He winced, but didn’t fight it. He did get a fork and spoon to help him sift through though.

Jungkook hummed as he worked, filling the slight-awkward-slightly-comfortable silence, sometimes murmuring a word or two in Korean.

And you believed that they’d been in the music industry, because there was no way they would pass up the chance for a rare hybrid that could also sing. And Red panda hybrids were rare.

There hadn’t been much of a hybrid-culture around you growing up, so you were aware of it, and had met a few hybrids that were therapy hybrids, but you’d never had significant exposure to them aside from your one road trip with you friends when you broke down in a hybrid town. The hybrid women that came to your rescue been extremely kind to you and your friend and had gotten you on the road again. But they’d told you to avoid hybrid males, “For everyone’s sake” and now…you still weren’t certain what it meant.

You wondered how they were doing during this apocalypse. They’d probably just stayed put and established more defenses. They were already mostly self-sustaining, with their own power supply and water system. Most people wouldn’t have even passed through there unless they were very, very lost.

“There’s a hybrid town…there was a hybrid town, to the east of here. There were completely self-sustaining. After your friend heals up, you might want to head that way,” You said in the silence after Jungkook finished his song. You were finished with your jack-o-lantern, just peeling the skin off of the bits you had carved out to add to the pile of salvaged pumpkin flesh.

Jungkook went rigid, and his tail fluffed out.

Yoongi also looked…tense.

“Or not. Do whatever you guys want,” You quickly added, a little alarmed at how alarmed they got. You’d just wanted to let them know that there was somewhere they might have a better chance. They’d said they wanted to go to the nearest safety zone, but that would also mean returning to servitude, discrimination, and possibly worse things.

Jungkook and Yoongi started having a rapid conversation over the workspace, Jungkook looking desperate and despairing, Yoongi looking uneasy and reluctant and adamant.

You weren’t sure what it was you had said, but they seemed to be quickly heading toward some sort of dispute and Jungkook suddenly turned adamant as well and Yoongi got a fed-up look.

“Namjoonie-hyung!” Jungkook finally called loudly, slamming the knife he had been using down on the counter and turning to head toward the main room.

Yoongi’s eyes widened and he hurried after the panda. “Yah, Jungkook-ah.”

You watched them go, then quickly grabbed the knives and put them in the sink in case they came back. Then you started sorting the seeds out of the guts of Jungkook’s pumpkin as the debate appeared to continue in the next room with lots of shushing.

You really wished you’d gotten more language textbooks and dictionaries. But honestly, there was no way you could have foreseen needing to know Korean.

———

Seokjin was already looking better the next morning, and more aware. Taehyung was carefully feeding him, and between the two of them they managed to tell you about the other pains—possibly broken bones—that Seokjin had. But all you could really do about them (aside from feel them and see if you could feel any displacement, which you didn’t) was splint them and tell him to not take any risks. Unfortunately, at least one of his legs appeared to be broken. You had a brace that he went into comfortable, but that was the best you could do for him.

At least they weren’t avoiding you like the others.

You weren’t sure what it was that you had said that set them off, but, after the…discussion yesterday afternoon, most of the boys sort of avoided you. Looked nervous.

But as it got later in the morning, you gathered and loaded some supplies into the truck. You’d already hooked up the trailer

Jungkook met you there, looking determined.

“No,” You said firmly. “I told you, no injured people on this trip. Too dangerous.”

His brow furrowed.

“No,” You repeated. You were not going to be fought on this. No way.

Finally he stalked away.

You wished you felt victorious.

Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Taehyung were set to go with you—though Taehyung appeared to be giving very detailed instructions to Jimin and Jungkook about Jin’s care—and soon packed into the vehicle.

It was very awkward. Yoongi sat in the back with Hoseok, but he wouldn’t look at you.

Namjoon and Taehyung were crammed in the front and Taehyung had apparently tired of practicing his English because he was talking with Namjoon.

Your hand went to the pocket with the list of things you wanted to look for, as if the list would reassure you that everything was okay.

You could feel someone’s gaze burning into you, and you knew who it was without looking.

You knew it was Yoongi.

You just wished you knew why.

You’d gone east, since that town was fractionally closer, easier to navigate, and hadn’t been raided as much.

“What’s the plan?” Namjoon asked as the houses started giving way to more business stuff.

You started to reply, then pulled into the hospital that was there (just a random specialist center, not a full one, but you thought it still might have some things you could use). “First we see if we can find Seokjin a wheelchair, crutches, or more braces—anything that might help. You have your weapons?”

They nodded.

You parked the vehicle, studying the building for a moment. “Okay. We stick together. Two people look, the other three guard. Got it?”

A smattering of agreements and a queasy nod from Hoseok let you know that they agreed.

“Hoseok and Yoongi, you want to look for the equipment?”

They nodded, though Yoongi was slightly more reluctant.

“Yoongi thinks I should help look for equipment and he should help guard.”

You gave Namjoon a quizzical look.

He rubbed his neck sheepishly. “I’m a little clumsy. They call me the god of destruction. He doesn’t want me to destroy everyone.”

You nodded. “Okay. Also, guys, if you see medical things that will fit in our bags, go ahead and carefully grab it. Especially gloves.”

He nodded, translating for everyone, then listening to a few follow ups. “Okay, so, just to be sure we’re all on, uh, the same page—Hoseok and I search and gather large and small supplies. Taehyung and Yoongi guard, but also grab things as they see them, and you’re guarding and searching as well?”

“That is correct,” You answered, curious. Had that not been clear? “I mean, I can also push one of the carts we brought but…I don’t even know if this place will have zombies. It was mostly an rehab center for old people, and I mostly think we’ll find gloves and hopefully a wheelchair or walker.” You shrugged.

Famous last words?

There were definitely a few zombies.

And by a few, you mean a few dozen.

Also, Hoseok was completely terrified of both the zombies and his weapons. No wonder he looked queasy.

You found a room that was empty and the five of you managed to get inside without zombies , locking and then barricading the door so you all could catch your breath and double check for injuries.

Yoongi grabbed you, moving you around and frantically checking you over, then sighing wordlessly.

“I’m fine. Were any of you hurt?” You asked, trying to visually assess Yoongi since he blocked your view of the others.

“We’re good, Tae had a close call, but he wasn’t bitten.”

Hoseok moved into your line of sight and pulled on Yoongi’s shirt, which somehow effectively pulled him away from you.

Which was good.

You were starting to feel a little nervous.

“Wheelchair!” Taehyung suddenly shouted, all signs of fatigue gone as he rushed toward a whole stack of them.

You looked around at the supplies, then met Namjoon’s gaze. “I guess this would be the supply room.”

Namjoon just grinned.

All of you quickly dispersed to fill your bags with supplies, Namjoon grabbing the different braces and checking how big they were, Hoseok carefully grabbing boxes of gloves and carefully looking over bandaging and such, and Taehyung still playing with the wheelchair.

Yoongi was trying to decipher the labels on the medicine.

You started bagging rubbing alcohol, peroxide, other creams and liquids that you recognized.

Which led to you being beside Yoongi helping grab medicines.

Yoongi seemed to look you over again. “You’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” You answered again, shrugging.

Yoongi nodded, then showed you a label.

You nodded, then went to check on the other boys.

But Yoongi stopped you, a strange desperation in his eyes. “Stay by me,” He said firmly, anxiously.

You stared into his eyes for a moment.

“When leave, stay by me. Please,” He begged, grip on you tight.

You weren’t certain what it was about the way he asked, but the moment he asked, you knew you would say yes. “Okay. When we leave.”

All of you jumped when something banged on the door, but it didn’t sound forceful, and a glance toward the door proved that it was just one of the zombies lightly hitting the door with a cane. Geriatric zombies, those were a thing now. Zombies who used canes and possibly walkers.

Now if only they weren’t interspersed with other zombies that didn’t need such aids, getting out of there would be a cake-walk.

But like most of your life since the pandemic, of course it wouldn’t be easy.

“He should be fine,” Namjoon reassured you, pouring more peroxide over the nasty bite and ignoring Yoongi’s growl of pain.

“Why would he do that?” You asked in a whisper, shaken to your core. The five of you were in a different parking lot now, treating his bite since the coast was clear.

The boys just exchanged glances, then shrugged or muttered something.

“Well…he can take a bite and survive as long as we sanitize fast enough, whereas if you were bitten…that’d be it for you,” Namjoon said carefully, watching as Hoseok meticulously cleaned the wound and then applied antibiotic cream. “It’s preferable.”

“It’s still dangerous,” You whispered, then scanned the surroundings again for any interlopers. “And we’ll give him some antivirals just in case. I still don’t understand why…why he acts the way he does around me. One minute he won’t look at me, and the next he’s getting bit by a zombie so that I won’t be bitten.”

Namjoon looked uncomfortable, like he was hiding something.

Hoseok’s gaze darted up at you, and Yoongi was definitely looking a little red.

Taehyung was checking out the store-fronts, only a couple of steps away from the group. He pointed at one of the stores. “Why…why?”

You followed his gaze, noticing the door that you had marked. “I did that. I barricaded it and marked it. The back door too. I cleared it out. It’s safe to go in there. We’ll get you guys clothing, shoes, coats, and other extra things. But they may have gotten in through the back, so we should secure that before we start grabbing things. And I get to approve of the coats, because there’s a certain type you’ll need to make it through a winter here. Hats. Scarves. Gloves. Blankets. Sheets. Pots and pans. Dishes. You should stay in the truck,” You said pointedly, looking at Yoongi.

He rebelliously looked back, stubbornness in his features. “No. You go, I go.”

You huffed, and folded your arms, but you weren’t about to fight him as well. “Fine, but you’re staying back.”

His eyes narrowed, but that was the only response he seemed to give you.

Once Hoseok had bandaged it, and used one of the compression sleeves you all had liberated from rehab center to hold the bandaging in place and give it more protection, all of you carefully removed your barrier and then cautiously entered the store.

But the barricade on the back door was still in-tact, so you all blocked up the front door for while you were shopping, and each of you took a grocery cart or two with you. You went to the kitchen stuff first and filled a cart, then the home goods stuff and filled a cart. Checked on the boys, but they were trying on clothes and shoes together and seeming to discuss the sizes of the others.

So you went and got yourself some more clothing, your gaze continually catching on the night clothes and intimates.

But that was ridiculous. You didn’t need that stuff. You had no one to impress or dress for.

Then again….

After you put those carefully packed suitcases near the front with the carts you’d filled, then started going through coats, grabbing a few for yourself, but mostly pulling options for the hybrids. The warmest brands. Sturdy ones.

You flinched and jumped at the sound of someone sighing just behind you, staring at Yoongi as he examined one of the coats you’d set aside.

Yoongi met your gaze, looked back to the coat, then stepped closer to you. In your space.

You held your breath as he held you in his stare.

He stepped closer, body right next to yours, and then he ducked and tucked his face against your neck.

You froze, feeling his nose brush against your neck, his furry ears tickling your cheek.

Then his lips pressed to your skin and he pulled away, hand resting on the other side of your face, cupping it so that you didn’t look away as he pulled back.

After a second, amusement sparkled in his eyes and he smirked slightly.

Then he was walking away.

And you were frozen. Absolutely frozen.

Because what the hell was that.

Once you had a coat for each of them, including the ones that were waiting at home, they all sort of went to explore since they could.

You grabbed hats and gloves, some beauty products that it carried (which weren’t numerous). Socks. Boots for when yours wore out.

Then you and the boys carefully packed everything into the trailer before heading over to a farm store that you’d raided and secured before.

Except this time you had extra muscle power to load those wood-burning stoves into your trailer. And extra lumber, chicken wire and other fencing supplies, tools, oils, kerosene, butane, propane, rope, nails, screws, sleeping bags, tents, flashlights and lamps, brooders, feeders and waterers for all of your animals, extra chicken coops and rabbit hutches and just so many different and various things you needed or would need. And lots of seeds. And heavy duty work-boots, overalls, and other labor gear for everyone (yourself included, because you would wear through those boots eventually and your father had drilled in you the importance of good footwear).

Not because you couldn’t come back. With the gas you’d managed to salvage, you probably had enough for another eight trips if you kept decent speeds and your car stayed maintained. And your neighbor had been talking about rigging vehicles with alternate fuel sources, so if he ever got that working….

But you had to assume that he wouldn’t, which meant getting as much as you could while you were in town.

Which is why you thought it couldn’t hurt to see if that little oriental market that had been near there had anything that kept that they might enjoy. But it was smaller, so you told them only one other person could go in with you and still be able to fight, and that you’d prefer it be Namjoon since the two of you could communicate more easily.

There was extreme reluctance, especially since you hadn’t specified where you were going and there were several stores in that plaza, but with the walkie talkies that you all had acquired they finally agreed.

And you got five sacks of rice that still seemed to be okay.

Then you guys hit the plaza with two big-box stores. Getting storage containers, mattresses (because none of you trusted the mattresses left behind in the houses, and the boys insisted if they get one [bless them, they planned on sharing one] that you get one as well and Yoongi wouldn’t let you say no so you made them get two mattresses for themselves), and then you all split up to search the many food isles for unexpired goods.

And of course you got paired with Yoongi.

Neither of you said anything as you started walking up and down the isles, you pushing the cart because he was insisting on being the guard. Not that you guys thought there might still be zombies lurking around (you highly doubted there would be any still hiding after the way Taehyung had run around yelling happily once the group had finished killing the four or five zombies that were in there), but it was better to be safe than sorry.

So there you were, chucking snacks that had been chock-full of preservatives into the cart, and wondering if the cereals would be stale or if they could still be good after two years.

Wondering if he was ever going to say anything.

Grabbing just about every canned good after checking expiration dates.

Taehyung said more when he brought you guys two carts, speaking mostly to Yoongi, who translated roughly. Something about the other boys and medicine.

And then Taehyung was gone with the other two carts he had been pushing, and dragging your full cart away.

The store next door had yarns and fabrics that you all just packed right up, regardless of pattern or texture, as well as all of the threads and pins and beads, packing everything in more boxes and such. Raiding the notebooks, pens, pencils, books (including text books, which included English textbooks that Yoongi grabbed several of, and a Korean-English dictionary and textbooks that you grabbed since you figured they’d be there for a while and hey, what’s another language to pass the time), clothing (again, what could you say, you didn’t know how to make socks or comfortable underwear), instant-photo cameras (Taehyung was especially excited about those with main mentions of Jimin in his ramblings), another pharmacy raid, shampoo and soap, and all of the hybrid stuff that they could ever want, extra furniture that was easier to move, more dishes and cookware, candles, canning supplies, solar panels, solar batteries (could never have enough of those), more foods that you knew would keep (because you were now feeding eight people and Taehyung liked to snack, he was doing it in the store the moment you said something was still good), and then if the boys secreted some things into what you all got you didn’t pay attention since they also didn’t pay attention as you checked out the period supplies because that didn’t stop with the pandemic and though you had alternatives (which you picked up more of, thank the heavens) sometimes it was just easier.

And Taehyung had a cart full of ramen that you weren’t about to fault him for.

Yoongi was the only one awake on the drive home.

“What was that earlier?” You asked. “At the coat store.”

He sighed and you heard pages turning. “True partner.”

You waited for more, but that seemed to be all he was going to say on that front. “What does that mean?”

He sighed again, this time more aggravated and with a slight hiss to it. More pages flipping and you could see his frown in the rear-view mirror.

Finally a frustrated growl and the thunk of a book closing. “Home. Jungkook.”

“We’re almost there,” You replied quietly, sighing. “Almost there.”

Jungkook rushed out when you all arrived, grinning with relief. “Hyungs!”

“Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi called back, hurrying to him and grabbing his wrists.

Jungkook immediately nuzzled Yoongi’s neck while Yoongi started muttering something, with glances toward you that soon had Jungkook staring as he gently fingered the fabric over the bandaging.

Taehyung raced inside.

Namjoon gestured to the load. “Unload today, or tomorrow?”

“Unload light stuff, leave the heavy stuff for later.”

He nodded, translating and calling Jungkook and Yoongi over.

You grabbed an old pumpkin cart and brought it over for them while Jimin brought over a couple of the grocery carts.

And Jungkook….

You had to scold him about eight-dozen times not to lift things that were too heavy, but every time he just grinned at you and cutely said “no speak English” and carried on (but it usually gave the other guys time to get over to him and at least help carry the heavier things.

Jimin was parked in the basement stacking canned and jarred goods on your food shelves and medicines and other non-food items on your other shelves, since it required less movement and he apparently aggravated his injury while all of you were gone. You were guessing one of the goats tried to get him, but Namjoon didn’t seem to know how to translate what was said, so you just left it at that.

Taehyung had rejoined everyone in unloading, and was working with you as a two man conveyor system for Jimin.

You swore Jungkook was trying to show off.

Yoongi took the suitcases that all of you had filled with clothing and coats and stacked them in your bedroom to go through later.

And before you knew it, the truck and trailer were almost completely empty.

Jungkook had ingredients out like he was about to cook, and he looked at you happily, as though inviting you to cook with him.

You nodded, gesturing for him to lead on.

He grinned and then brought you some vegetables. “Chop.”

You nodded, not even surprised as Yoongi also joined you and Jungkook and everyone else disappeared to ‘go check on Seokjin’. Because you could see Taehyung and Jimin playing outside and exploring one of the greenhouses, looking at the pumpkins, and Namjoon was just through the door, looking through a stack of books. Which meant Hoseok was probably the only one who actually went to check on Seokjin.

Yoongi and Jungkook somehow managed to give you enough instructions that you managed to help them, and when they couldn’t find an ingredient and couldn’t name it, you would play a guessing game with Yoongi. The hardest was probably soy sauce.

But the most surprising thing was probably how…touchy they were with you.

Or when Jungkook just came up behind you, wrapped one arm around your waist, shoved his face in your neck, and licked you.

Licked. You.

And you yelped, because all of that happened in about two seconds, and you could feel their surprisingly stunned stares as you booked it out of there.

You walked quickly across to one of the greenhouses, cursing frantically and pretending you were doing something completely routine by getting treats for your animals.

Namjoon found you, looking nervous. “Hey. Yoongi sent me to find you.”

“Fuck,” You hissed, picking up a pumpkin. “What the hell is going on, Namjoon? And I am not in the mood for and BS.”

He winced. “Um…what do you know…about…mates?”

“I suppose we aren’t talking about the British or Australian definitions, and more biological definition?” You led the way toward your rabbit barn and hutch.

He nodded, looking anywhere but you. “Definitely more biological.”

“Sorry you got caught in the crosshairs as translator,” You muttered, dropping the pumpkin so that it would break, and then putting pieces of it in the different hutches with some of the seeds for them to enjoy, but also giving them lots of fresh grasses and greens so that they wouldn’t overindulge. You’d give the rest of it to the goats and pig.

He shrugged, peeking at the rabbits. “Cute. So, for hybrids, potential mates are identified by smell a lot of the time. Jungkook and Yoongi are technically mates, but…they also identified you as a potential mate. So…they…want to stay near you.”

“So, hypothetically, if I had told them about a hybrid city that you all may have wanted to go to after leaving here and they reacted poorly to it, it would be because it was almost like an unconscious rejection of them?” You asked, darting glances toward him.

He snorted, and then started laughing. “Is that what happened? Geez, they’re so dramatic. Look, I already told them to take it easy around you because you are human and it might not be something you want for yourself. But…even if you aren’t…we would all like to stick around. Maybe not here exactly, but we could be close by and help you out when you need it. You’re the first person, hybrid or human, who has ever been kind to us. And we feel safe here. Would it be okay if we stuck around?”

You considered it for a moment, wondering what it was that made them feel so safe or comfortable. And if you were okay with what he’d said. Yoongi and Jungkook wanted you as their mate. As proposals went, you’d heard worse, but you also hadn’t known them long enough to commit to anything. “Tell them they have to play the long-game. And…I kept a couple of the nearby houses from having burst pipes the last two winters for when people pass through. If we get the one across the street set up with a power supply, you guys can live there. The house next door is for refugees on the move, and me. It’s easier to bathe there.”

He grinned at you. “We can stay?”

“Yeah, sure. Why not. But that means we’ll have to be frugal. I’ll need you guys to help me get two more greenhouses planted.”

“Sure! We can do that!” He grinned happily, bouncing on his toes.

“Great. Now, go tell the boys to stop attacking me with affection out of the blue.”

He laughed and hurried off to tell the others.

What had you just agreed to?

———

You weren’t sure what it was about Halloween that always brought more zombies around than normal. Maybe it was the swift approach of winter. The hard frosts. Urging them to migrate.

Either way, you’d had your work cut out for you from the moment you woke up.

Thankfully, the boys hadn’t wandered off alone at all, and never unarmed after you woke everyone by shooting the rifle.

You did lose another chicken though, the one that refused to go into the coop once she’d escaped the previous evening.

“Is that coffee?” Yoongi asked, gaze locked on your mug.

“Sort of,” You answered, gesturing to the pot. “There’s coffee in it, if that’s what you’re asking.” You’d combined your coffee-tasting tea with some of the frozen coffee grounds you had. You hadn’t resorted to your instant coffee yet. You weren’t ready to admit defeat. You weren’t ready to say goodbye to coffee.

But that day was fast approaching.

You would have to bid your vice goodbye.

Another gunshot alerted you to an issue out front, but you waited for the holler for assistance.

“We’re good!”

You nodded and poured Yoongi a mug of the sort-of-coffee sort-of-tea.

He took a sip and sighed. “Good.”

“Glad you like it,” You replied.

He nodded, then sat back beside you, surveying the fields for more zombies.

Jungkook came and sat between the two of you on the ground, leaning against Yoongi’s legs.

They sat with you in comfortable silence, though Jungkook was also tracing the seam along your calf. Barely touching, seemingly an absentminded action, but slowly capturing your full attention.

Jungkook peeked up at you, then back down, tugging on the seam. “Okay?”

You smiled. “Sure.” It was amusing that he wanted permission to play with a seam.

Yoongi glanced around, then got up. “Can see house?” He asked, pointing toward the house next door.

You looked around seeing Jimin and Hoseok coming around to relieve you and Yoongi from your watch. “Sure, just tell them where we’re going.”

Jungkook nodded, hopping up and racing to meet them, glancing back multiple times as they continued walking over.

Jimin gave you a thumbs up, and they took your places.

You led the two curious hybrids over to the house, glad you’d kept up with cleaning it once a week. It was chilly in there, but not freezing. And honestly, during winter, you preferred staying in there because of the bathroom. You’d set up a shower in the store, and a sort of bath, but usually if you really wanted to feel clean and bathe in nice hot water, you came to the house and indulged because it had an energy efficient water heater that could run on the power supply you generated all through the year.

Either way, the cozy house was clean and well-furnished.

Jungkook looked around curiously, straying a little.

Yoongi stayed close to you.

“Not much to see. I put overstock food in the basement when I need to.”

Yoongi nodded, then got closer to you, seeming to ponder his words carefully. “Namjoon told you, scents and things.”

You felt a decently strong urge to start running. “Uh, yes. Did he tell you what I told him?”

He nodded, then rolled up his sleeve. He rubbed against certain parts of his wrist and arm, then held it out to you.

You blinked at him, confused beyond reason.

“Smell,” He said quietly.

You looked between him and his arm skeptically, then leaned forward and casually sniffed his wrist.

Then you sniffed again, because who the heck smelled like petrichor?!

Jungkook eagerly joined the two of you, offering you his wrist.

Jasmine.

Your weaknesses.

Yoongi gently pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You smell nice with us.”

You closed your eyes.

“Oranges?” Jungkook guessed, nuzzling up to your other side.

And oh, those sneaky fluff-butts.

And didn’t they know that there were zombies around.

But of course they could tell how you felt about all of this thanks to their superior sniffers.

Which was probably how you ended up kissing Jungkook while Yoongi kissed your neck.

All of you stopped at the sound of a particularly loud gunshot.

Shortly followed by two more shots that had all of you hurrying out to make sure everything was under control.

You carefully avoided them the rest of the afternoon, not entirely certain you trusted yourself around them and their stupid petrichor and jasmine which were your favorites. And they said you smelled like oranges and what did that even mean aside from Yoongi saying that you smelled good with them. Were oranges a desirable smell?

But whenever you passed by them, or were near, they found a way to lightly touch your arm, brush their hand against yours, rest their hand on the small of your back, tuck your hair away from your face and you totally didn’t end up kissing Yoongi when he went with you to feed the broody turkey.

And you both definitely wouldn’t have been overtaken by a zombie if Jungkook hadn’t conveniently come by and shot it.

Jungkook peppered you both with kisses, as though those would help calm you from the close call, and then pointed out that he had set out the jack-o-lanterns.

You stared at the glowing pumpkins and started laughing, because, of all the things to prioritize that day, with zombies all around…he made sure the jack-o-lanterns were put out.

So maybe when all of it was you were assigning watch duty for the night, you made sure those two would be with you, because you felt safe with them looking after you. Both of them had saved you.

“Lonely?” Yoongi whispered, staring up at the stars.

“No,” You whispered back, fingers running through Jungkook’s hair. But this time that was all you needed to say. It was enough.

“Good,” Jungkook sighed, giving a sort of rumble of approval and melting further against you as you gently scratched behind his ears, fluffy tail wrapping around him and eyes drifting shut.

There was a long trial ahead of you. Learning their language, fighting zombies, making sure there was enough food to eat, fighting zombies, caring for the livestock, fighting zombies, and exploring whatever this was with Yoongi and Jungkook. Maybe even convincing them to try and make it over to the hybrid town, just to try and initiate trade or something.

There were a lot of things to think about, and consider, questions to ask and have answered.

But in the glow of the three jack-o-lanterns, with soft smell of petrichor and jasmine surrounding you and the sounds of the others talking and laughing inside, you weren’t worried.

You weren’t lonely. “Not anymore.”

Zombie Apocalypse Masterpost

Tagging: @lost-xim, @bryophytas, @young-yellkie, @alex--awesome--22, @missmoxxiesworld, @knjhe, @i-dont-even-know-fck,

418 notes · View notes

vs-redemption · 4 years

Note

Aaa im so sorry for bothering you! Can uou do my request from before (homeless kid) but now with hawks, shigaraki, and fatgum please? Im so sorry if its any trouble but your writing isFANTASTIC!!!!!!!!!

A/N: Phew! Sorry for the wait, but I wanted to make sure I gave you something I was proud of. And don’t worry! You aren’t bothering me. I was actually kind of wishing you’d included Hawks in the first request, and Shigaraki was a fun challenge to write! I really hope these meet your expectations.

A Surprise Meeting (Hawks, Fat Gum, and Shigaraki meet their abused child)

Warning:⚠️Mentions of child abuse and homelessness.⚠️

You can read the same scenario but with Bakugo, Iida, and Aizawa HERE You can read the same scenario but with Todoroki and Dabi HERE

Hawks

Hawks knew his patience would be put to the test whenever the Hero Commission called him in for a face-to-face meeting. He’d opened up his agency as far away from the head office as possible for the sole purpose of avoiding their overbearing attempts to control not only his career, but his personal life as well. He appreciated everything the Commission had done for him to an extent. After all, he never would’ve ended up as such a successful hero if they hadn’t taken him in as a child and given him intensive training to perfect his quirk. There were a lot of things he’d hated about living under the Commission’s thumb though. Because of that, he really hated whenever he had to go back there.

“Thanks for coming today, Hawks.” The president of the organization herself had come to greet him. He gave her a roguish grin despite the fact he wanted to role his eyes. He hated when they thanked him for obeying when it wasn’t like he had a choice anyway. “There’s someone we’d like you to meet.”

Hawks followed the president as she led him deeper into the facility than he’d been in a long time. His wings twitched behind him as unpleasant memories began to surface in his mind. He felt confused and uncomfortable when he was brought into a small observation room that had a view of one of the commission’s training spaces behind a large two way mirror. “Are you going to explain what this is all about?” Hawks jokes to try and ease his own tension, “Or are you keeping me in suspense on purpose?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” The president’s face remains stoic as she turns away and speaks into an intercom. “Bring her in.” Hawks looks into the training room on the other side of the glass and sees a random agent of the commission step through the door with a tiny little girl following closely behind. She looked to be around two years old. Hawks’ jaw drops in disbelief when he sees the two fluffy wings sprouting from the child’s back. He’d seen other people with wing quirks before, but this kid’s resemblance to him was uncanny. Her hair was darker than his, but the black markings around her golden eyes had his mind reeling.

“Of course we did a DNA test,” the president says flatly. “She’s definitely your child.”

Hawks steps away from the glass and runs a hand over his face, letting the information sink in. The commission had so much influence over his personal life that he’d mostly stayed away from any sort of relationship, knowing that there’d be too much drama over maintaining his image and reputation for him to actually enjoy having that kind of connection with someone. Admittedly, he had bent his own rules and caved into pressure once or twice after graduating the commission’s program. He wasn’t proud of it, but he’d mostly done it out of spite for all the years he’d spent being micromanaged.

“A woman dropped her off a few days ago,” the president’s voice turns sharp. “How could you let this happen?” Hawks wasn’t interested in a lecture at the moment, so he ignores the question in favor of moving closer to the glass and looking at his daughter more intently. She was cleaned up and wearing a standard uniform provided by the commission, but Hawks didn’t miss the painful looking scratches on her face or the raggedy, burned up ends of the feathers on her wings.

“What happened to her?” he asks, surprising even himself at the low tone of his voice.

“The mother admitted to doing most of it,” the president rattles off the information in a clinically detached way. “They’d also been living out on the street for a while as well, so who knows what might’ve happened.” The news was heartbreaking for Hawks. He hadn’t lived in ideal circumstances at that age either, and he wouldn’t wish that sort of life on anyone.

“Your wings didn’t start to grow back until you were a bit older, so we’re assuming it’ll be the same for her,” the president seemed oblivious to the emotional state of the hero standing next to her. “We’ve already started her on a special diet though, and she’ll begin her training regimen at the beginning of next week.”

Hawks wasn’t sure if it was some bird trait related to his quirk or just the knowledge that he was the kid’s father, but some sort of instinct kicked in with such intensity that it washed away any feelings of duty or habits of obedience that had been programmed into his brain.

“You’re not keeping her,” he says fiercely. The president just raises her eyebrows at him.

“The mother left her in our custody,” she states. “You should be thankful that we’re willing to overlook your mistake. With any luck, we’ll be able to groom this girl into a hero just as spectacular as you.”

“If you don’t release her to me, it’ll be you that’s made a mistake,” there was a promise of something terrifying in Hawks’ tone that seemed to finally shake the president’s resolve.

“You really think you’ll be able to be a decent parent?” she asks coldly.

“I won’t let her be robbed of a childhood like I was,” Hawks declares firmly. “If she wants to be a hero, she can make that decision when she’s old enough to do so.” Thankfully, the president decided not to argue any more. Hawks turns back to the window and allows himself to relax a bit. Looking over his daughter again, his heart filled with a love so strong it threatened to overwhelm him. He made a vow to love and protect his little girl so that she had the safest and happiest life possible.

Fat Gum

There was nothing quite like the feeling of walking around the lively streets of Osaka at night. People of all walks of life tended to come out around this time, and the delicious smell of cooking food filled the air. Taishiro Toyomitsu, better known as Fat Gum, could think of no better city to do his hero patrols. The crime rate was a little higher than in other places, but it was worth it for him to have easy access to the yakitori, yakisoba, and okonomiyaki stands that kept his quirk plenty fueled up.

Tonight he was in high spirits as he walked down one of the more famous shopping streets, stuffing his face with incredible snacks, and having friendly encounters with both locals and tourists alike. A couple of young musicians were playing on one of the street corners, so he tossed a few coins into their cup. Everything seemed to be fine basically, other than a few people who’d stumbled out of bars and needed help getting to a taxi. It was one of his more tame patrols, but he wasn’t going to complain about that.

He noticed that he was being followed near the end of the night, when most of the shops and restaurants were starting to close up. The busy streets began to empty as people hurried to catch the last few trains, and only when there were just a handful of people left out sweeping the sidewalks did the figure emerge from the shadows. Fat Gum was surprised to find that his pursuer was a young boy around nine years old with strange, aquamarine colored hair.

“Hey there, kiddo!” he kept a huge grin on his face but still kept his guard up just in case. “Can I help you with anything?” The kid looked to be in pretty rough shape as he gazed up at the BMI hero who towered over him. Fat Gum didn’t like the poor condition of the boy’s clothes, or that he appeared extremely dirty. The most concerning thing of all was how emaciated the boy looked. He could practically see the bones in his arms, and his cheeks were sunken with hunger. He wondered when the poor thing had last eaten a proper meal.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” the kid finally speaks up after a moment. Fat Gum finally noticed that the boy had started shaking like a leaf. He wasn’t sure if the boy was just cold, or if he was actually afraid. He watched as the kid reached into his back pocket and pulled out a tattered old photograph. “By any chance, do you know this woman?” The boy flinches away while holding out the paper for Fat Gum to see.

“I’m not gonna hurt ya, buddy!” the large hero says while taking the photo as non-aggressively as possible. “Let’s just take a quick look at this and… oh.” He recognized the woman staring back at him from the picture. He hadn’t seen her in almost a decade. He’d lost contact with her once she’d broken his heart after a short romantic affair. “Uh,” Fat Gum felt a little awkward, “Is this your mom?” The boy nods his head while keeping his eyes closed. “Then,” Fat Gum chuckles nervously, “am I your dad?”

“Yeah,” the boy mumbles before letting a few tears slip out, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” the need to be a hero for this boy was stronger than his discomfort with the situation. “If anyone should be sorry, it’s me. How could I have not known about this until now?”

“Mom wouldn’t let me tell you,” his voice cracks with emotion. “She said you’d be mad.”

“Well, that’s just silly!” Fat Gum shakes his head in disbelief. “Where is your ma’ now?” The boy finally glances up and meets his eyes. They were the same shape and color as his own.

“She got arrested yesterday,” he admits, sounding embarrassed. “Another hero caught her pickpocketing. She sometimes asked me to help her, but I haven’t been feeling well lately. We don’t have a place to stay either, so we had to find a way to get food.”

Fat Gum hated the thought of that woman not only keeping the existence of his son a secret, but also forcing a young boy to break the law. Perhaps that was why the boy looked so scared. He probably thought he was going to get in trouble too. Fat Gum had other ideas though.

“I’m really sorry that happened to your mom,” he says sincerely, “but she will have to pay for the crimes she committed.”

“I know,” the boy looks back down at his feet.

“But there’s no reason you have to follow in her footsteps,” Fat Gum says cheerfully. “I’m more than willing to take you under my wing. That is, if you don’t mind.” The boy finally allows a tentative smile to grow on his face. He clearly liked the idea.

“Well then, first I think we should get you to a doctor,” Fat Gum reaches down and gently pats the boy’s head. This time, he doesn’t flinch away. “And after that, I’ll make sure you get a decent hot meal! No kid of mine is going to look like skin and bones.” The boy eagerly agrees and allows Fat Gum to scoop him up into his arms. He had a feeling it was going to be a dream come true to finally have the fun and affectionate father he’d always imagined.

Shigaraki

People were always going on and on about how hard public servants worked and how important their jobs were. Heroes, police officers, firefighters, health workers… sure, they all had hefty responsibilities, but nobody ever considered the absolute nightmare it was being the leader of the League of Villains. Shigaraki wanted to see someone else try to manage the group of ragtag, lawless, misfits that he’d been left in charge of. It’d be one thing if they were all there to support him and his diabolical plans, but unfortunately a good number of his followers were just hanging around in the hopes of an opportunity to continue the work of the Hero Killer, Stain.

Stain had always been a sore spot with Shigaraki, ever sense the man had shown up at his hideout just to criticize him for not having a clear goal. He’d never admit it out loud, but the jerk might have had a point. At first, he’d just wanted to kill All Might, but that was only because it was what his master, All For One, had wanted. After All For One had been arrested, Shigaraki was sort of left without a guiding hand or a clear path to follow. He still wanted to kill All Might. And he wanted that annoying Midoriya kid dead too. When he really thought about it, Shigaraki just kind of wanted everyone to be dead.

The door to the villain’s hideout clicked open suddenly, making everyone in the bar turn to see who’d arrived. It was just Dabi, trailing in the scent of burnt corpses. Shigaraki clenched his teeth and sighs in annoyance. That ugly fire user was supposed to be out recruiting people to the League, but all he ever did was incinerate any potential members he came across.

“I didn’t know we were running a daycare service now,” Dabi comments lazily while grabbing a stool at the bar and signaling Kurogiri for a drink.

“What are you talking about?” Shigaraki felt the prickling urge to scratch at the flaking skin on his neck, but managed to control himself. Dabi was always trying to get a rise out of him and the worst thing he could do was take the bait.

“Some crusty looking rugrat is hanging around outside,” Dabi shrugs. “You might want to do something about that.” Shigaraki wasn’t sure if the annoying man was messing with him or not, but he sent Twice to check it out just in case. The last thing they needed was a lost child attracting the attention of any heroes. A few minutes later, Twice returned with what looked like a four year old boy trying to claw his way out of his captor’s arms.

“Put me down!” The kid protests before opening his mouth and biting down on Twice’s fingers. The villain drops the kid who lands with a thud on the floor.

“There really was a kid out there!” Twice gestures to the boy dramatically, “He’s completely rabid though! It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“You picked the wrong place to run away to,” Shigaraki walks up to the boy feeling irritated. “You should’ve stayed with your mommy and daddy.” The boy glares up at him from the ground and Shigaraki gets a big shock. Aside from the hair color, it was like looking into a mirror. The boy had the same piercing red eyes as him. The skin around those familiar eyes was dry and irritated, just like his own too.

“You ARE my daddy!” The kid blurts out and the atmosphere in the bar gets extremely uncomfortable. Of course, the silence is broken by a snort from Dabi.

“Oh man,” he shakes his head. “I can’t believe someone actually had the stomach to sleep with you.”

“Shut up, Dabi!” Shigaraki tries to swallow down the panic and horror bubbling up inside him, but the persistent itch on his neck seemed to double in intensity over this unexpected news. He gives in, reaching up to scratch at the damaged pale skin below his ear. It had been All For One’s idea for him to have an ‘experience’ with a lady. He’d said it was an important part of becoming an adult, but now Shigaraki could only see it as a huge mistake. A voice drifted through his mind, telling him that it would only take five fingers to make this whole problem go away.

“Where’s your mommy?” Toga skips over happily, unable to resist inserting herself into the situation.

“I don’t know,” the boy was putting on a brave face, but it was clear that he was afraid. “We had to leave our house and sleep outside. Mommy said it was because my dad was a villain, but then she was gone when I woke up.”

The story struck a chord in Shigaraki. He’d been left abandoned without a home as well at a very young age. The last thing he wanted to do was sympathize with the brat though. What he wanted was for the kid to disappear. The idea of a guy like him being a parent was laughable. He was barely an adult himself, and he had enough on his plate right now. A small child was only going to be a burden. His fingers twitched, ready to activate his quick as he continues to look down at the helpless boy at his feet. The conflicting feelings inside him were making the itching flare up terribly. Every inch of skin on Shigaraki’s body felt like it was on fire now.

“You’re just like everyone else, aren’t you?” the boy suddenly slumps forward, the fight going out of him. “You hate me.”

A weird resolve washes over Shigaraki at those words. No. He wasn’t like everyone else. If there was one thing all the member of the League of Villains had in common, it was that they’d all been rejected by friends, family, and even heroes for traits they had little or no control over. This boy was just as much a victim of this crooked society as the rest of them.

“You’re forbidden from ever leaving this building,” Shigaraki states flatly. “And don’t expect anyone here to coddle you or clean up after you. The moment you become a nuisance you’re back out on the street.” The boy nods in understanding while finally pushing himself off the ground. Shigaraki wasn’t sure what he’d just signed up for. The only thing he knew for sure was that his job had just gotten a lot more complicated.

#Hawks #Keigo Takami #Fat Gum #tomura shigaraki #Taishiro Toyomitsu #mha imagines #bnha imagines #Cindy's Writing #bnha #mha

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vodkassassin · 4 years

Note

Ok let me set the scene: SQQ had grown used to his multiple layers of clothes, and it was never a problem untill the day he and (your closen love interest) decided it was time for papapa, que the twenty minutes of SQQ instructing how to carefully take off his each and every layer. The steamy vibes slowly disapear. The curtains close.

I know you wanted this to be steamy, cousin, but I slapped platonic cucumberplane onto it instead and it turned into a big Mess of Feelings instead of romantic comedy 😅 my bad! @overlordmoth

—

The first time Shen Yuan is forced to attend a inter-sect banquet is memorable, if nothing else. It doesn’t even have anything to do with the event itself, but what happened afterwards.

The food was alright. He’s been spoiled, he thinks, by his adorable disciple’s god-tier cooking, because though the organization committee had gone all out and hired the fanciest of catering staff, the food itself was… he wouldn't go so far as to call it disappointing, per say, but it had been a bit bland when he’d tried it. He finished off his meager plate of appetizers and resolved not to touch any other dish thereafter. He’ll just eat a meal when he gets back to his peak.

Luckily, inter-sect conferences aren’t a constant occurrence. They only happened once every few years, as a way for the many sects of xianxialand to share information and gossip. Shen Yuan has had two years now, to get used to being Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu, and he’s grateful for the extra time he was given to learn his character before he was forced to debut into such a public setting, where Shen Jiu has long-since created himself a reputation.

Much like the reputation amongst his own sect, everyone in the cultivation world seems to know how Shen Jiu had been. Tonight is the first time since his fever (and Shen Yuan’s transmigration) that Peak Lord Shen steps into the limelight and shows exactly how drastically he has changed in character.

It doesn’t go as terribly as he expected it to, honestly.

When he’d first entered the hall, the amount of stares that had immediately zeroed in on him and began dissecting his every movement was… overwhelming, in a way. Shen Yuan is used to stares. He has to be, just to walk around his own peak. His disciples are nosy, gossipy young masters and maidens. For all that they seem to admire and respect him, there is never a single moment when Shen Qingqiu does not feel their eyes following him as he walks from one classroom hall to the next.

The banquet is much the same. Instead of his disciples, however, these are matured (in a manner of speaking) cultivators of sects not his own. Which means Shen Qingqiu has to be on the lookout and watch his own back.

Or he would have had to, had his fellow transmigrator not been in attendance as well.

He supposed he’s lucky, that all the peak lords were required to attend this ridiculous party.

He spends the first ten minutes or so proving to these cultivators that, though Shen Qingqiu has obviously changed, his tongue is still just as acerbic and barbed as it had been before, perhaps even more creatively so now that he’s changed. It puts strained, polite smiles onto the faces of men and women who had approached him in attempts to size him up and find a hand hold for themselves.

Joke’s on them.

As pleased as he is to discover them just as easily taken down a peg or two as his own sect members, Shen Qingqiu grows exhausted of this game rather quickly. Once he sends the last cultivator away with their tail between their legs, he snaps his fan closed with a flick of his wrist and turns on his heel before the next can even think to approach him.

It’s out of character, apparently, for Shen Qingqiu to throw the towel in when the first hour hasn’t even passed. Raised eyebrows and confused eyes follow him as he steps off to the side and sidles up to where the only other millennial in this world is leaning against the far wall of the hall, cradling a cup of tea in his hands and staring at the floor likely in the hope that no one will come speak to him.

As much as he whines that he never gets as much attention as the other peak lords, Shang Qinghua always prefers the sidelines. All the better to remain unnoticed, that he may more efficiently observe their guests without them realizing that the An Ding peak lord’s eyes see far more than any of them could ever think.

When Shen Qingqiu leans his back against the wall beside him, Shang Qinghua gives a startled jolt. His tea sloshes in its cup, thankfully not spilling over, and he raises wide eyes to meet Shen Qingqiu’s look of ridicule.

“Ah….” For once, his friend seems lost for words, and Shen Qingqiu resists the urge to frown at him. “What’s up?”

“If I’m going to make it even a single hour in this party, much less the full ten it’s scheduled for, then I’m going to need someone to listen to me complain.” Shen Qingqiu begins succinctly. “As my bro, that’s your job.”

Strangely, Shang Qinghua seems to perk up at this. He swirls his tea around — and from the sharp scent that wafts upward to Shen Qingqiu’s nose, tea isn’t the only thing in that cup — and casts Shen Qingqiu a cheerful smile.

“A party isn’t a party until you’ve made fun of every single partygoer behind their back at least twice,” his fellow peak lord agrees.

Shen Qingqiu smirks at him.

He snaps open his fan to cover it when he hears a few murmurs of shock from the people who are still watching him like hawks for any sign of difference between him and Shen Jiu. It’s so fucking tiring.

Shang Qinghua huffs a quiet laugh and shoots him a look of sympathy.

“How many bodies do you think you can help me hide before someone notices that guests are beginning to disappear?” He asks nonchalantly, and his mouth curls into a more genuine smile behind the safety of his fan when Shang Qinghua’s shoulders start to shake with laughter.

“Don’t ask me that,” the slightly shorter man breathes out in mirth, eyes bright. “Between the two of us, we can absolutely make it happen. It’s best not to even tempt it.”

“As you say,” Shen Qingqiu sighs despondently, fluttering his fan before his face. It’s beginning to grow a little too warm even in the huge, cavernous banquet hall. That’s what happens when you shove an entire crowd of people into the same room together. It gets stuffy.

The banquet passes a little quicker than it would have otherwise, with Shang Qinghua by his side to exchange quite jokes and banter with. A particular, good-natured target for them both is Liu Qingge, who’s squirelled himself into a different corner of the hall with three jars of alcohol and whose grave glare is enough to chase off anyone who’d wish to speak with him. The poor man just isn’t built for socializing. At least it’s clear that there’s someone who’s having a worse time here than Shen Qingqiu is. It might be mean, but it makes him feel better nonetheless.

It’s nice to have someone who actually understands every meme and pop culture reference Shen Qingqiu slips into his mockery of the banquet guests. The only issue is having to smother his real, genuine laughter when Shang Qinghua comes back at him with something actually hilarious. It would surely rock the cultivation world to its very foundation if Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu burst into laughter in the middle of an inter-sect banquet for all to see.

Even with the allowances he’s slowly acquired for himself in the time since he disabled the OOC lock, his martial siblings would certainly send for Mu Qingfang to check him over.

Still, the comfortable atmosphere of mockery aside, several hours is still several hours, and by the time Shang Qinghua is down to the dregs of his seventh cup of tea (plus the obvious pick-me-up he adds to it), Shen Qingqiu is incredibly fucking done with this entire farce.

Opening his fan to conceal his face, he leans over slightly into his friend's space and quietly says, “You wanna blow this popsicle stand?”

The clear effort it takes Shang Qinghua not to wheeze is gratifying. “Are we even allowed to do that?”

“We’re peak lords,” Shen Qingqiu says, shrugging his shoulders lightly. “We can do whatever the fuck we want. And, speaking as a millennial — who’s going to stop us, really?”

Good thing they’d dissolved into speaking English three hours ago. If someone heard the cold, and graceful Lord Shen verbally curse then he’d probably be forced to undergo another test for possession with Wei Qingwei when they all got home. Annoying as hell, those things. They took hours and he wasn’t even allowed to read to pass the time!

“Point,” Shang Qinghua admits.

“Plus,” Shen Qingqiu raises his fan up a bit higher to hide his entire expression and makes a face. “I, uh…. need a favor, from you.”

Shang Qinghua blinks over the rim of his teacup at him. He stares at him for a long, wordless moment, and then his eyebrows shoot up.

“The peerless peak lord Shen,” he says lightly, mouth quirking, “needs help—?”

“Airplane.”

“—from little ol’ me?”

“Imma gut you,” Shen Yuan mutters, fan fluttering.

Shang Qinghua beams at him. He pushes up off the wall and steps over to the nearest table to set his now-empty cup on its surface.

“Yeah, okay,” the man says.

Appeased, yet miffed, Shen Qingqiu raises his chin up and snaps his fan closed sharply enough to make a noise. “Good.”

They leave. There’s a multitude of stares that follow in their wake, from both strangers and their own martial siblings across the hall, but neither of them pay them any mind, aside from the way Shang Qinghua’s shoulders raise defensively almost on instinct. A nervous habit that the man will probably never rid himself of.

Three minutes later, they’ve closed themselves away in Shen Qingqiu’s guest quarters of the venue — the conferences are to last for at least three days, minimum, so each sect has their own pavilion for the overnight stay — and Shen Qingqiu stands grumpily in the middle of the room while Shang Qinghua collapses against the bed and laughs himself silly.

“Y-You need me to—?” The man wheezes, one hand pressed over his mouth as tears prick the corners of his eyes, his other arm holding his side. “To—?”

“Yes, it’s very amusing,” Shen Qingqiu deadpans, eyebrow twitching. “And what a friend you are, to laugh in the face of my plight. What, do you expect me to ask anyone else? Who would you suggest? Yue Qingyuan? As if! Of course I need your help, idiot!”

“I’m sure Sect Leader would be very obliging if you were to ask,” Shang Qinghua giggles from where he’s curled up on top of the blankets. He waggles his eyebrows. “Very obliging.”

“You disgust me,” Shen Qingqiu sniffs. He tugs at the front of his robes, and casts his friend a helpless look. “Seriously, how am I suppose to get out of this — this death trap?!”

Because, for such a fancy and important occasion as an inter-sect conference opening banquet, the guests are of course expected to wear their most formal robes. And, in xianxialand, formal robes mean layers. Layer upon layer upon layer. And extra baubles on top of that, like multiple-section headpieces and jewelry and gauzy, sheer, bedazzled over robes.

Truly, the opulence and over-the-topness of the cultivation world never ceases to make Shen Qingqiu raise his brow.

“I get what you mean,” Shang Qinghua chortles. “Stop your bitching, bro, I know how to escape these things, no problem.”

He hops up from the bed and makes his way over, reaching for the outside clasps of the over robe without even asking first. Shen Qingqiu does mind, holding his arms out to give his friend better access. Honestly, there is never any dignity lost between the two of them, what with their modern sensibilities. Not that Shen Yuan ever had much dignity to begin with, being a lifetime recurring hospital patient in his last life. As Shen Qingqiu, peer immortal master that he is, however, he at least has to pretend he does.

With everyone other than Airplane, that is.

“Thanks,” he says, grumbling but grateful, as Shang Qinghua carefully but without ceremony shucks off his outer robe and the one underneath it.

The man steps closer after laying those out on the bed, and tugs at the ties of the belt that hold the next robe closed. After a series of finger gymnastics that Shen Qingqiu can’t really make head nor tails of, his friend reaches up and pulls the silk down from his shoulders and reaches a hand inside to pull at the smaller ties hidden within. Which is absolutely ridiculous. Shen Qingqiu had seriously felt like he was putting together a piece of IKEA furniture when he’d originally gotten dressed. Overly complicated, the instructions were all in Swedish, and it was nearly impossible to accomplish on one’s own. But, he‘d done it!

Dismantling it all, however, was another thing entirely, and he thanks whatever higher power there is, that Airplane is here to lend him that hand without any of the awkwardness that someone with ancient Chinese sensibilities would bring.

“Thank god these things are only like, twice a decade,” he groans, leaning back so his fellow transmigrator has easier access to free him of the next stifling layer. “If this body didn’t have that handy cultivation temperature regulation magic bullshit you came up with for that scene in chapter one-hundred twenty, I’d be sweating buckets right now. Next time I get an invitation to a banquet, I’m refusing, no matter how much Yue Qingyuan puppy-dog eyes at me”

Shang Qinghua directs an odd, slanting smile down at the belt he’s working free, nimble fingers pulling and tugging gently at the ties so they don’t accidentally tighten instead of loosen.

“Yeah,” he says, quiet. “... I’ve never been a fan of banquets either.”

Shen Qingqiu holds back a scoff. And then lets it free, because there’s nobody here but Shang Qinghua, who knows him and won’t ever begrudge him for showing actual emotion. “I can’t imagine anyone being wrapped up in thirty layers and expected to socialize with sharks for ten fucking hours and actually enjoying it.”

Shang Qinghua ducks his head down, smile disappearing. He tugs the ties free and reaches up to slip another layer off of Shen Qingqiu’s shoulders, but he keeps his eyes lowered. Shen Qingqiu pauses, frowning at him. Something’s off.

“...Airplane?”

“It’s not that,” Shang Qinghua shrugs helplessly, tugging at the ties of the next robe without much effort to pull them loose. There’s a slightly uncomfortable expression on his face that makes Shen Qingqiu frown deepen. “I actually don’t mind all the layers. My parents dressed me in hanfu all the time when I was a kid in my past life, so I was already used to it before I even transmigrated. The food at banquets is really good, too, and the socialization isn’t so bad once you look at it as just a political pissing contest. Banquets could be fun, really.”

“But they’re not,” Shen Qingqiu guesses, and reaches out to clasp his friends hands in his, pulling them away from his belt. They twitch in his hold, like Shang Qinghua wants to fidget, a nervous tick.

He’s only half dressed at this point, but right now he’s more concerned with the shuttering expression on Shang Qinghua’s face than anything else. “Not for you, at least. Why?”

Shang Qinghua glances nervously up at him from beneath his lashes, only to look back down again and grimace. “They’d be a lot of fun, if I wasn’t… me, I guess? Today is the first time I’ve actually enjoyed a banquet since I first started attending them as a head disciple.”

Shen Qingqiu presses his lips together as his friend lets out a mirthless, unamused laugh. He squeezes the hands he’s holding, and Shang Qinghua‘s shoulders droop.

“It was also the first time anyone’s actually stuck by me and actually talked to me, though, so,” the other finally glances up, an odd and fragile smile on his face as he chuckles weakly. His eyes are shining a bit damply, and Shen Qingqiu locks his teeth together when he sees it. “I guess it makes sense? Banquets are a lot more fun when you’re not, um… totally alone the entire time! Haha…. who knew, right…?”

Shen Qinghua shakes his head slowly. He ignores his state of undress and reaches out to draw his friend into his arms.

Sometimes, Shen Yuan wishes he’d transmigrated into Shen Jiu’s life earlier than he had. Sure, the cons far outweigh the pros, in such a situation, but at least his friend would have had someone in his corner for all the times that their martial family had snubbed him. Airplane may have brought the anxieties and insecurities of his past life along with him into this one, but Shen Yuan doesn’t doubt for a single second that in the decades that Airplane has been Shang Qinghua, they have been made much stronger (and oftentimes crippling) by the actions of the people who are suppose to stand by him and have his back.

It’s infuriating, when he lets himself think about it for too long, so usually he doesn’t. And then it smacks him right in the face, like now, and Shen Yuan feels nothing but bitter resentment toward those people who are supposedly his friend’s martial family.

Shang Qinghua makes a quietly surprised sound, but doesn’t protest. In fact, the other melts against him, hands coming up to grasp at the front of his robes, and he tucks his face into the junction between Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder and neck. He sucks in a slow, stuttering breath that makes him tremble, and Shen Qingqiu reaches up one hand to bury into the back of his friend’s hair, curling his fingers into the strands.

“It must’ve been extra rough when the original goods was still around,” he comments quietly.

Shang Qinghua shudders, and then nods his head against his shoulder. “H-He was a real jerk, but usually he was too busy verbally flaying all the guests from the other sects alive, to pay me much mind. Thankfully.” The An Ding lord lets out a wet chuckle.

Shen Qingqiu allows another frown to cinch at his brow as he pets his hand through his friend’s hair. “And none of the others ever…?”

“Why would they? I’m just — I’m just… An Ding.”

Shen Qingqiu tightens the arm that he has wound around Shang Qinghua’s waist, and his scowl depends when he feels his friend shake.

The door opens then, because of course it does. Someone peaks their head in, and who else is it going to be but Yue Qingyuan, looking for his precious Xiao Jiu, who apparently isn’t one to leave a banquet early when there are still guests left to verbally knock down several pegs and cripple the self esteem of?

The sect leader opens his mouth, and closes it. Shen Qingqiu watches impassively the journey of emotions the man’s face undergoes as he takes in the scene of a half dressed Xiao Jiu holding a trembling Shang Qinghua in his arms. Yue Qingyuan’s face is pale and there’s two splotches of bright red on both his cheeks. He looks both mortified and horrified in equal measure.

Shen Qingqiu wraps his arms tightly around the other transmigrator, holding the still-trembling Shang Qinghua to his chest, and narrows his eyes at the sect leader viciously.

“Leave,” he snaps. His best friend doesn’t deserve having anyone spying on this moment of real vulnerability.

Yue Qingyuan beats a hasty retreat. The door closes softly behind him.

Shang Qinghua gives one last shudder, before going lax in his arms, letting Shen Qingqiu hold him up with his strength alone. The An Ding peak lord reaches out his arms to wrap them around Shen Qingqiu and return the hug, clutching tightly at him.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” the man says, voice slightly choked, and Shen Qingqiu swallows thickly. It’s clear that Shang Qinghua is talking about more than just tonight’s banquet.

“Me too,” he says, and finds that he actually means it.

#svsss prompts #scumbag villain self saving system #shang qinghua #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #vodka answers #vodkassassin fanfiction #overlordmoth

181 notes · View notes

americasass81 · 3 years

Text

Make Her Mine - Chapter Eight

Warnings:- 18+, Dark theme, Smut, Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Sex, Brief Mention of Spanking, Oral (male receiving). Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting. Feedback is welcomed.

This contains adult themes and by proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Word Count:- 2,571

Sitting you down at the dining table in the crypt, as you now called this place, Tony washed his hands and began moving seamlessly around the kitchen preparing what you assumed was pasta, again. You thought about trying to talk to him, but whenever you opened your mouth, no words came out. Eventually you took to taking small glances in his direction until he finally had enough. "Darling let us have a quiet dinner and then I promise, we will try to resolve everything. Okay?"

"Sure." you replied, staring at the table before returning your gaze to him. "Um Tony, is there anything I can help you with?"

"Yeah, I guess. Do you want to set the table while I finish the meatballs?" he smiled, moving effortlessly from one task to the next.

Getting up, you joined him in the kitchen and went about removing the necessary plates and cutlery before placing them where they were needed. Retrieving the wine glasses proved a more difficult task however when you discovered you were unable to reach the cabinet overhead which housed them.

"Here, allow me darling." Thinking that Tony was coming to your rescue, you let out a squeal when he placed his hands on your waist and easily lifted you up to reach them. "How about we leave these two down for the duration of our time here?" he suggested as he lowered you gently back on your feet.

"Would make more sense I suppose. Though since I'm no longer allowed wine, does it matter what I drink out of?" you mused as you stepped aside to allow him to continue the meal prep and carried the glasses to the table.

Eventually walking after you, Tony allowed you to set down the glasses before taking your hand in his. "Okay, so the meatballs are in the oven, ready to go and V.I.R.G.I.L. can now take over while we get cleaned up. Shall we N/Y?" Reluctantly following him to the master bedroom, you hoped that the incentive of dinner would be enough to keep his hands off you.

Thankfully it seemed your worries were unfounded however when Tony simply ushered you into the shower and proceeded to gently wash every inch of you. Then stepping out and wrapping a luxurious towel around each of you, the shocks continued when he opened the double doors to the closet and led you inside. "I'd like you to make an effort for dinner, but honestly if you don't feel like it, I understand. Just have a look around and see if something catches your eye." With that he walked to the other side, picked out a complete suit and returned to the bedroom, leaving you alone.

Moving along what you assumed was your half of the walk-in, it still surprised you that you could be shocked by the discovery that all the clothing here were in your size. Kitted out like a well stocked department store, albeit a high-end one, you planned on something casual until your fingers skimmed over a light grey silk dress. Taking it down and looking it over, you told yourself you could never pull it off, but placed it in front of you before the mirrored wall all the same. Hearing Tony inform you that you had about twenty minutes, you threw caution to the wind, found the matching shoes along with a dusky pink set of lingerie and dressed in record time.

Walking out into the bedroom, Tony turned around at the sound of your presence and the look he shot you, turned you on and made you uncomfortable in equal measure. "My god darling, I thought you were beautiful that night in the restaurant, but now you're a vision. That is most definitely your color." Dropping your eyes towards the floor as he came over to stand beside you, Tony kissed your cheek and looked at his watch before raising your chin to face him. "Ready to go eat, my love?"

"Actually yes. I am kinda hungry." you answered while trying unsuccessfully to maneuver out of his tender hold.

"Don't do that Y/N. Don't hide from me . . . or the world." he requested, as he took your hand and led you back to the dining table. Pulling out your chair, you quickly sat and enjoyed the wonderful aroma permeating around the place while Tony got to work plating up the meal. Placing it on the table along with water for both of you, you noticed, he too sat down as you tucked into the most delicious spaghetti and meatballs you could ever remember eating.

Having enjoyed the meal in companionable silence, Tony rose from the table but refused to let you help as he cleared up. "Thank you Tony, that was amazing. But if you don't mind me asking, where did you learn to cook?"

Laughing at the question, he turned around to face you as he finished off his water. "Y/N, despite what everyone thinks, I don't actually have a bunch of servants who do everything for me. I'm quite capable of looking after myself and those I care about."

Not missing this little remark, you turned back towards the table and tried to get your thoughts and feelings in order while Tony finished up what he was doing. You were however afforded a bit more time when his phone rang and the conversation indicated that Steve was on the other end. Suspicious as to why Stave was asking questions about a woman he had probably only glimpsed once outside the office, Tony stuck to the 'employee being treated on the company health plan' script before finishing up the conversation. Looking your way while realizing that Steve might not be as gullible or loyal as he thought, he knew now more than ever that he needed to make you his.

*************

Putting away his phone and walking over to join you at the table, his heart broke a little when you pulled your hand back before he had a chance to take hold of it. Sighing deeply as he thought how best to approach the situation between you, he decided for now he would try to avoid bringing up the fact that you had attempted to kill him not once, but twice.

Taking his seat, you looked up to see him press something on his wristwatch before he lifted his head to look at you. "I've disabled the shock feature on your nanoparticles. Now, if you promise not to try anything, perhaps we can discuss our future without any extra fear on your part. How about you tell me simply why you fear being with me."

Thinking through your situation, coupled with what little you knew about Iron-Man, the Avengers and the slew of enemies lurking around every corner, you checked Tony's demeanor before standing up, moving over to the couch and getting comfortable. Sighing as he sat down next to you, but acknowledging that you seemed to be thinking, he reluctantly kept his mouth shut until you were ready to finally talk. Setting aside everything that had happened and could still happen, as well as all the feelings threatening to swallow you whole, you instead set your analytical mind to the task before you.

Thinking back on why you first rejected his advances, you accepted that both his loose morals and your own views on love and relationships was reason enough to steer clear of the egotistical playboy. Added to that his life as an Avenger and the deck was clearly never in his favor. However, a small part of you had to admit that being easy on the eyes, coupled with his oh so numerous skillful body parts, meant that falling for him wouldn't be the hardest task in the world. It was simply a matter of how much you wanted it. Then of course there was the monumental task of getting away from him if you so chose.

After two unsuccessful attempts, you wondered if you even had it in you to finish him off, but you knew as long as he still had breath in him, you would never be free of the iron avenger. That just left you relying on your mob friendship and you had to wonder if they really stood a chance against the world famous heroes. Feeling the exhaustion of everything that had happened, along with the weight of what was to come, you looked towards Tony to see him watching you apprehensively as the minutes you deliberated ticked by. Finally accepting that when you played ball he tended to give you the benefit of the doubt and so you could only hope that given enough time you could use that to your advantage, while dealing with whatever consequences said timeframe created.

Catching his knee bouncing with irritation, you figured it was probably time to let your inner musings out. Turning to him, you quickly reiterated your earlier statement about being his flavor of the month and lifting your hand to shush his evident interruption, continued to confess your fears about his superhero lifestyle.

Taking your hands in his, he reaffirmed that everything about you, from your cheeky, defiant attitude to the dangerous streak you kept directed towards him, was more than enough to keep him faithful. He also promised that if you remained by his side, given enough time and trust, he would be only too happy to hand over the nanoparticle armor he designed for you the first night you slept under this roof.

Letting his words sink in and making a silent wish that you survived long enough to take possession of the promised armor, you kept your expression neutral as you launched yourself across the couch and crashed your lips against his. Feeling his goatee tickle your chin as your tongues wrestled with each other, you pulled back slightly when your lungs cried out for air.

"Am I to take that as offer accepted, darling?" Tony asked, as he pulled your body closer against his strong frame, a glorious smile evident on his face.

"Take it as I'm willing to give this a try and see how things go." you replied and in the next instance, Tony's skillful hands had unzipped your dress and dropped it off your shoulders.

Moaning at the lacy pink material, because there was no way it could be called a bra, barely concealing your gorgeous tits, he looked up at you with lust-filled eyes and his next words took you completely by surprise. "Tell me I can make love to you darling. Please." he begged and as you realized this was the first time he had asked your permission, it finally hit you just how much power you might actually hold over him.

Feeling the now usual, yet powerful, tingling sensation deep in your core, the shocks continued coming as you nodded your head and allowed Tony to have his way with you. Leaning forward to kiss your lips, his tongue snaked out to dance with yours but didn't linger before moving down to place soft wet trails along your neck. Giving yourself over to the tune he was pulling from your body, a deep groan left your throat as Tony's mouth latched onto part of your exposed breast and he bit down just enough to send shockwaves rushing south towards your aching sex. Writhing against him as he then ran his tongue across the area to soothe the sting, affording the same treatment to the other breast had you cursing his level of self control as you silently wished for him to fuck you senseless.

As it was, you refused to give voice to this particular desire, and instead simply reached out, grabbed hold of his hair and brought his sinfully skillful mouth back to yours. Kissing him with both a passion and hunger you never knew you possessed, your body emitted a squeal as he rose from the couch with you secured in his powerful arms and walked you back in the direction of the master bedroom. Losing your dress somewhere along the way as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, you looked at him in complete frustration as he dropped your now almost naked form on the bed while he stood before you, fully clothed.

Looking down on you as your eyes pleaded with him to join you in a state of undress, his eyes tightened as they roamed over your heaving form while his gaze focused with pin-point accuracy on your heels. Leaning forward, his hands took hold of your right leg and removed the shoe before moving to the left. Kicking your legs out in pure frustration, Tony couldn't help laughing at the pout that now settled on your features.

Stepping closer still while removing his jacket, his lips found yours again before resting his head against your forehead. "Don't pout Y/N, good things come to all in time." and with that he moved back and winked at you before slowly and teasingly unbuttoning his white dress shirt. Licking your lips as more and more flesh appeared before you, you still couldn't figure out why this man wanted to be yours. Tossing the shirt across the room while removing his shoes, your thoughts were pulled back to the present as his weight between your legs caused the bed to dip and your eyes to lock with his.

"Want to unwrap your package, darling?" he smirked and even you couldn't stifle the laugh that erupted past your lips as you joined him on your knees. Reaching forwards, your trembling fingers closed on his belt only to be stalled when his hands rested over yours. "Take your time Y/N, neither one of us is going anywhere."

Licking your lips while looking up at him, you nodded, before unbuckling his belt, undoing the button and deftly slipping down the zipper. Placing your fingers along the waistband, you pushed his pants down to his knees as his hand reached forward, cupped your chin and kissed you passionately while your hands found their way into his boxers. Placing them firmly over his ass, his breath hitched against your mouth as you squeezed hard. "Fuck me darling, you're too good at that." he panted, and even you had to admit the praise was kind of intoxicating.

Continuing to knead and pinch the firm flesh, you deftly maneuvered one hand around the front and taking hold of his warm, semi-hard cock, you coaxed the most delicious sounds from the world's most eligible bachelor as your hand worked him up and down. Then somehow managing to use one hand to nudge down his boxers, you marveled at your hand wrapped around his shaft as creamy precum made it's home against your palm.

Moving your hand down to massage his sac as your head bent forward, Tony's knees began to shake while your tongue started to lick the vein on the underside of his cock. Finally gaining control of his facilities, he caught hold of you and tossed you on your back before moving forward between your legs. Looking down at you through hooded eyes, he smacked your thigh playfully before placing a soft kiss against your panties. Then rising from the bed, he fully divested himself of his clothes, before smirking over at you saying, "You've had your fun darling. Now it's my turn."

Tagging:- @nsfwsebbie @hoseokchild @gotnofucks @ironlady1993 @floatingdaisy7 @taintedgenre @buttercandy16 @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay , sorry if I missed anyone.

#dark!tony stark x reader

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jamestrmtx · 4 years

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Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Nine | Dating Tense! (Part 3 of 3)

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Your conversation with Undyne goes a similar route as with Toriel's: confronting a stranger in the name of protecting the one you held most dear, as a result ending whatever possible, friendly connections you could've likely formed with her right from the start -- without that complex context placed between you. Seeing everyone as your enemy is draining at its least, but the reward you visualize for everyone ahead makes it all seem worth it. That thought alone provides with strength to keep pushing forward, and even more so when you remind yourself over obtaining a possible happy ending of your very own, were you to resolve this situation with the monsters first.

With that thought in mind, you set the empty teacup down on the coffee table and take a deep breath in, preparing yourself to continue with the conversation. You're already halfway through the most difficult process with Undyne, so backing away now would be useless; thankfully, the tea has enough chamomile in it for you to quell your anger and turn it into sobriety, instead. Of course, that sounds way easier than it is, but -- compared to how you felt when talking with Toriel -- it's a difference as large as the distance between the sky and Earth. Keeping in mind all the kindness and patience you've been shown throughout the process helps with that, as well.

You stand up, continuing with, "I understand protecting the Underground was your priority, but…" You stop to breathe again. "Why… Why would you attack without waiting to see what Frisk had to say? If you were informed enough to know there was a human running free in the Underground, then couldn't you have known they weren't causing any harm, in the first place?"

Despite the tea, its effects and your subsequent calm don't last long. Frustration keeps you from staying in one, sole place without fidgeting, so you let energy out through a composed, back-and-forth pace across the living room. You stop for a second and face down at Undyne, who keeps herself seated, eye meeting with your gaze. "How many of those six souls were murdered, and…" Your breath hitches. "And how many of them were genuine, self-sacrifices? I… I wouldn't be so angry, if you were just honest with me and told me how many human lives were taken away without their honest approval, and exactly how many of them sacrificed their lives for you, in the end."

At the thought of Frisk, still selfless towards plenty of things based on how young they were and the education they received -- both at home and at school -- you keep your posture straight, eager to say more. "And was there really no other solution than taking those souls? If… If Frisk saved your kind without having to give up their own life for it, then why did all this happen? Why… Why did six people have to die before a different solution could come around?" A pause and a sigh help you recollect your thoughts. "Or were they threatening the lives of your kind? 'Cause that makes a lot more sense than simply taking away the soul of the first human you saw, no matter their age, background, or intentions."

Undyne still stays silent for a while even after you're done, eye now cast down at the floor as she frowns and her hands hold onto her knees. "...Well," she says, trailing off with a sigh. "I was only ordered to chase after whatever human I crossed paths with." She lifts her gaze from the floor while a hand toys around with the scales on her neck, distracting herself from you. "It wasn't every day a human would fall down there, so we were eventually ordered to, well... kill whatever human did happen to end there… Indiscriminately." Finally, she makes eye contact with you, frown quivering as she takes another quick pause. "According to what we were told, it had been years since a human last fell down, so when Frisk arrived, I... I just sought after them without thinking twice."

"But if that many years passed by, couldn't your kind look for another solution? If… If Alphys built a new body for her friend out of nothing but scraps, and with two different forms -- mind you -- then... Then couldn't another scientist on similar or equal terms of knowledge have done something about all this? Why wait so long, if… if all it took was a child to find another solution for you?" Your voice breaks and your ire finally snaps with, "Where's your sense of justice? Or does it only apply when it's convenient?"

She notices the change herself, though she doesn't flinch nor retaliate; neutrality is her only reaction as she replies with, "(L/N), in all honesty, I…" Undyne stops, facing down again as her grimace deepens, sorrow dampening her eye. "I'm... I'm not sure how to answer that."

Seeing you've reached a dead end, you glance over towards Alphys, who tries to look away, failing when you call out her name. "What about you, Doctor Alphys? Was there really no other thought in mind other than waiting for the next prey to arrive? Was there truly no…" Your breathing grows scarce, hinting at you losing your grip on the intensity of your emotions again. "Was there truly no other option than for us to be enemies? For your kind and mine to… to simply keep up with the damage our ancestors made and left behind?"

Alphys is shaking, yet you stay unfazed, only lessening your level of intimidation by uncrossing your arms and looking away from her, giving her some space and time to reply.

"I'm n- not sure what to say, either, but… Y- You do have a point." She wrings her hands, her shaking attempting to compose itself through that. "But… As a f- former scientist of the Underground, I wasn't told much over what the rules were. One of the few things that I took part on was in... in creating Mettaton's new body." Her hands unwind, shoulders copying them. "I... I know he was programmed to k- kill humans, but like you mentioned: he was my friend before any of that happened, and so he already had a life and consciousness before I made that new version of him. It- It just so happened that I… I modified a few things so that he could-"

Her words are interrupted as Frisk walks into the living room, still sleepy-eyed. They rub their eyes with the sleeve of their shirt, and a frown presents itself when they take a good look at the scene before them.

"What's wrong?" they sign, expression furrowed.

They take in everything around them, letting their face lose tension when their gaze moves on over to you, encouraging them to approach you. "You're here!" Frisk grabs your hand, taking a look at the time on your watch. Then, they raise an eyebrow, letting you go to continue with, "You didn't go to work today? Or did you leave early?"

You smile, let your guard fall, and bring them into your arms, holding them up. "The streets got flooded, so I couldn't go anymore after lunchtime," you say, kissing their cheek. "How've you been, though? Did you have fun at miss Toriel's new place? I've been here since twelve, but you were sleeping, so I didn't want to wake you."

They grin, nodding as they bring their arms firm around your neck, hugging you close. "I had fun." You tense a little at the sound of their voice despite there being more people besides Toriel, Brenda, or you around; how often selective mutism kept them from saying things out loud in front of other people made their voice a rare thing to hear in public, no matter how small the crowd was. It's only when they're alone with you or people of trust that they have the courage to speak up out loud -- a rare case was Frisk being capable of talking with Bubbles regardless of them having met him only once so far, yet you dismiss that one as them having simply gotten along well with him right from the start, rather than associating it with them truly forgiving you and wanting to defend you, as a result. "A- Are you gonna stay here, then? It's raining a lot!"

"I believe they have no other choice, dear," Toriel intervenes, easing out the tension left from your earlier conversation, still unfinished.

She arrives next to you; a set of clothes are held out in her hands, these neatly folded and accompanied by some soap, a towel, and a roll-on deodorant. "(L/N) was waiting for the skies to clear up, but the rain and the floods have made it near impossible for any of us to leave this house." You set Frisk down and take the clothes, surprised to see a set of pajamas similar to Toriel's clothing style, and even some (men/women)'s underwear tucked underneath all the other items -- and unused based on the size tag still attached to it. "I am not sure if these sizes will fit you, but those clothes are all spares I keep stored away for guests." She lowers her voice and gets closer to you. "The undergarments are new, of course." She giggles, winking at you afterwards. "The bathroom is upstairs, if you would like to shower now."

You inspect the clothes again, frustration simmering down back to calm as you let your shoulders lessen their stress with a sigh. "Thank you, ma'am."

• • •

Barely two months into knowing the monsters, and you're already staying at their place. While Alphys and Undyne are capable of leaving under the current, wild weather at will if they were to take their needed precautions, neither Frisk nor you can step a foot outside without drawing it back in. The streets are a mess of puddles, nature-made swimming pools, and car alarms going off; the scenery outside is close to that of becoming something of a meteorologist's concern and a scientific anomaly, yet the news and every other information outlet available continues to report it as something of lesser concern than what it is.

As you stare outside, Frisk now resting on your lap, you worry over two things: the lost meeting at your office, and the stranded car belonging to Sans's brother. You comb your fingers through Frisk's hair, using that as a means of entertainment from your worries. They're still sleeping soundly, tired out by both finishing their homework and playing with you at the indoor, mini playground Toriel set up for them.

"I'll pay for any damages to your car as soon as this clears up." You direct your words at Papyrus, who stops gazing outside to face you, looking dazed. His mind looks to be somewhere else, though another squint at your appearance makes him snap out of it.

"That is the least of my concerns now, (L/N)." He smiles at you, leaving the window to crouch next to you, couch occupied with Frisk, Sans, and yourself. "I can go look for it tomorrow morning. And as for whatever damages it gets, I am certain my insurance will look over this case! There have been plenty of reports discussing the damages made by the rain, so it is not my greatest worry." His gaze falls on Frisk, a warmer look reaching his face. "Do you want me to carry them back to bed? It's getting late!"

"It's fine-"

"Please, I insist!"

You smile at his persistence, far more endearing than his older brother's. The thought makes you pay attention back towards Sans, who's still showing signs of exhaustion on his body, slumped over to the corner. His eye sockets are closed, dark circles beginning to show under them.

"Thank you." You pay attention back to Papyrus, who takes Frisk in his hold, propping them safe with both arms.

You stand up, ready to help out, yet he dismisses your actions with the words, "Stay and chat with Toriel. I assume you both still have plenty to talk about, don't you? You should take this opportunity to talk with her and the other ladies! Perhaps then, you can leave this place with a different perspective by the time the rain stops."

"I will." You nod and watch him leave, carrying your child up in his arms with seemingly no difficulty. His steps fade as so does his figure, leaving you be with Sans sleeping at the couch, the owner of the house by the kitchen, and Undyne and Alphys standing by the living room. The pair's gazes are occupied on the window, carrying a similar expression to Papyrus's from earlier before.

You don't even know how to start up another conversation with the last one having ended poorly, yet try again by using the easiest route possible: going over to Toriel and asking if she needs help with dinner. You stand up and stretch out, legs numb with how long Frisk had been sitting on your lap. It's only fortunate tomorrow's Friday, the beginning of another weekend.

"Can I help with anything?"

Those are the first words you say as you enter the kitchen, greeted by the smell of boiling vegetables and the sound of a knife against a cutting board. Toriel's next to the stove, cutting some carrots, but stopping to look at you. A smile forms on her face, and she nods once, pointing with her gaze at the potatoes resting on the counter next to hers. "Did Frisk go back to sleep?" she asks, facing back at the carrots again, continuing with her work. "I am amazed at how much energy they have, and how little they want to sleep now that they've seen how many people are in this home. It is only when I insist that they need to rest up for the sake of their health that they do so."

While you're not sure if she's being indirect or not, the goat lady's words lead you to assume one thing, and that's Frisk not wanting to waste time sleeping when at the monsters' home. With you, they went out like a light, going to sleep right when you told them to. Only when there was a full house and when family members came to visit did they break that rule, far too excited over the new faces for them to sleep.

"Papyrus took them back to their room," you reply, reminding yourself not to let your thoughts drift again. "And that's... normal for them, actually." You decide to be truthful with her, following Papyrus's advice. "They usually don't like to sleep when they're too excited about something. Every time my family visits, they're just a big ball of energy and don't sleep until everyone's doing the same." A smile forms at that, a memory from when your ex came to visit Frisk slipping through. "When my, um… ex-husband used to visit, they would stay up late playing games with him. So I guess Frisk feels the same way about you and their other monster friends."

With the potatoes already washed and peeled, all that's left is to cut them and throw them into the pot. You ask her over what size you should cut them, turning your back to her again when you're given an answer. "Is there anything you would like to ask me about, (L/N)?" Toriel asks, speaking in between cuts. "If there is any doubt you have over me, and even over Dreemurr, Sans, and others I know well, I can inform you about it. But as for things that are personal, that is up to them."

Thunder crashes at the nearby window just as you're slicing, finger almost ending up in the same condition as the potatoes, but prevented by your reflexes. The lights go out on par with another loud blast of lightning, plenty more violent than the first one.

"Goodness!" you hear Toriel say.

You follow the sound of her voice to see a sphere of flames held up in her hand; it reveals her face, now furrowed with worry. "Are you alright?"

"I'm alright." You set the knife aside and join her side, following her orders when she informs you there are candles on the bottom drawer beside her. You act quickly, taking them out and lighting them up with the help of her fire magic. "Are you?"

She nods, a gentle look crossing her. "We should go check on the others." Her gaze points back at the drawer, left open. "Could you bring more of those?"

"Of course, ma'am."

You take the emptiest box of the three and follow her out of the kitchen.

Your surroundings are now left pitch dark except for a bright and glowing, blue spear held out by Undyne, Alphys standing next to her. A tall figure holding up a smaller one can be seen near the couch, people who you assume are Papyrus and Frisk based on who's the only one left to find. "Has anyone seen Sans?" Papyrus asks, fret tracing his voice. "He's not on the couch anymore!"

Looking to where he points at, you see he's right. The couch is empty with the exception of your and Frisk's belongings. Not even a trace of him can be seen left around, making it appear as if he's outright vanished from existence, and not even the dim lighting produced by the candles can aid with tracking him down amongst all the people, objects, and darkness laid around.

While others assemble and call out for Sans as they search through all the rooms they could possibly imagine finding him in, you try to come up with a different solution besides that. Him disappearing was more than unlikely considering he didn't have any magic or energy left in him for teleportation, so you rule that out as a possibility and take a moment to observe your surroundings a bit closer. You look at the couch again, as if still expecting to catch a glimpse of him there despite what you're doing right now. But as fate would have it, your keys pop into your mind when you come across the sight of your suit jacket, umbrella, and all other belongings left behind on a corner of the couch, most of these stored away in a bag or left nearby it.

Reminded over what your car keys have attached to them, you go look for them, bumping into someone right as you're about to make it there.

You wobble and -- at the feeling of losing balance -- you act fast. You break your own fall and later grab onto the person to prevent them from falling, though you don't need to do much when you notice their height doesn't reach that much higher than your chest. Add to that your sturdier body helping with breaking the fall, and you've managed to stop the both of you from fully crashing into each other or stumbling to the floor.

You sit down on the couch when you feel you're losing your balance and hold the person upright. You then let go to look through your bag, retrieving the keys and -- along with them -- a small, solar flashlight hanging from it. The light's directed right at the person's face, revealing Sans's, who looks as if caught in a bad deed.

"Are you okay?" You don't bother over bringing up the fact he face-planted right into your chest, nor that his hands gripped tight onto your waist for support; the sheer sincerity of his surprise at bumping into you makes you assume he hadn't done it on purpose.

"I'm, uh… I'm fine." His words are just as spacey as his gaze, and his irises point at the floor for a second, spacing off yet again. "Sorry about that." He sits right beside you on the couch, facing up to meet with your eyes. "I was gonna check up on the ceiling since it's rainin' so hard. Kinda looks like it'll start leakin' soon."

Thunder strikes again, sending the monster back into your hold. His hands grip onto your shirt next as he freezes up in place, just before he can get to reveal the true meaning over his disappearance.

"Are you… Are you scared over this?" You try to push down your amusement, yet are unable to when you see his grip is tight enough to remind you of a cat being frightened.

When another one strikes, louder than the rest, you bring up another question while biting back a smile. "Is it… Is it the noise?" He tenses up even more, encouraging you to bring him closer, his current proximity far different from his attempts at flirting with you. "Sans." You call out his name, attempting to snap him out of it. "What's wrong? You're as cold as ice!"

He doesn't react, though you can feel him shake and shiver under your hold. You look down at him to see his eye sockets are tightly shut. How much he's scooted closer makes him sit on your lap, though his smaller figure helps you with keeping him safe and balanced in your hold.

As you keep him that way, you can only ask yourself one thing:

Would you come off as an insensitive jerk if you decided to tease him over this in the future?

At the sound of a louder crash, the skeleton's unresponsive, caught up in his fear.

...Or would it work best not to take that risk?

For the time being, you hold him closer.

The feeling of everyone's eyes on you surges when you move your eyes away from the skeleton to look around you. In contrast, you see Papyrus and Frisk too busy playing with a candle to notice what's happening, along with Toriel having all her attention on lighting more candles. It's only Alphys and Undyne who take notice, both their faces equally enlightened by what's unfolding on the couch. They look ready to yap their mouths off over the situation between you and the one clinging onto you, yet one sharp look of caution at the two keeps them from saying anything risky about it.

Whether they knew about Sans's fear you didn't know about, and whether he wanted it to be known you weren't aware of, either. For now, you hold him close, trying your best to ignore the women's stares and waiting until Sans snaps out of it. His hold on you's firm and close, needful and impartial as the thunderstorm continues to gain strength.

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• • •

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@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

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miridiums-writing · 4 years

Text

Squid x Miridium

Miridium = she/he. Short as shit, I am 5’1 irl soooooo, miniture, I accidentally turned into a flustered mess who can’t deal with any compliments but the dynamic works

Squid = they/them. The taller one, I didn’t specify height because brain went no, squid kinda turned into a mysterious flirty advisory and I’m not complaining

Summary ; squid and Miridium have been enemies for years, battle after battle they have fought with no clear winner, but this time squid is determined to finally win

Warnings; blood, gore, fighting

Tag list : @squid-god-supreme since it's literally about you

Miridium crashed into the large oak door, his breaths laboured from running so far after them. Without considering what he was running into, he roughly pulled the door open. “Come on squid, stop playing this ridiculous game with me.” She heard a chuckle near the back of the room, Miridium looked around the room, quickly observing this is what looked like a theatre, with a large stage near the back. Just like squid to choose something like this to run to, they were always one for dramatics. Miridium crept forward through the pews, listening out for any other movement in the room, by the time he had reached the stage he had still heard nothing at all other than their own footsteps against the polished wood floor.

Squid was crouched at the back of the stage, their sword resting against their leg. Their own breathing wasn’t quite as haggard as Miridium’s, though in comparison they had had more time to rest. They smirked to themselves as they heard his footsteps get closer to their hiding place. Squid could distinctly remember from all the other times they had fought how easy it was to fluster Miridium, and pushing his buttons was squid’s most favourite past time. They could hear him hesitate at the stage stairs, come on Miri just a little further and this battle is mine for the winning.

Both got poised and ready to attack the other, their swords twitching to get unsheathed. With a shout squid jumped out from their crouched position, pouncing onto Miri, thankfully Miri had unsheathed his sword just in time and both swords crashed against each other, then the true fight began, each blocking and attacking the other with immense speed and agility, the only sound surrounding the room was metal against metal, and slight grunts at both ends as they battled for the win. Squid pushed their sword against Miri’s, their faces close together now, squid smirked down at Miri, seeing his face of concentration and rage. “Why don’t you just let me win for once shortcake?” Miri glared up at Squid at the nickname, every time without fail Squid had somehow managed to get under her skin and annoy the hell out of her. “Shut up!” she yelled, finally pushing squid back, causing them to stumble slightly before they inevitably regained their balance, their smirk only growing larger. “Fine, guess ill just have to be more persuasive!” They ran back at Miri, sword raise ready to attack her. Miri, quickly jumped out of the way of the dangerous blow. Though he misjudged his landing and felt himself starting to fall from the stage. In a blind state of panic for their wellbeing squid grabbed a-hold of her hand and pulled her towards themselves, their arms circling protectively around her body.

When the adrenaline on both sides starts to dull down is, they realized the position they were in. squid pulled their arms away from her and took a step back, giving them the space, they assumed Miri would want. “Just, don’t do that shortcake, you’ll take a nasty fall.” Miri had still yet to say a word to squid, her own brain had short-circuited slightly, and she had no idea what to do, her emotions going haywire. Her head repeating the same sentence again and again as it tried to understand the events that had just taken place. It meant nothing. “Lets just pretend that never happened. Besides,” she picked up her sword from the ground. “I was about to win.” Squids usual signature smirk etched back onto their face. “Oh yeah, lets see about that.” Both fighters raised their swords once more before a gut retching wail sounded from outside. Miri’s face turned white as she looked up at squid. Squid’s eyes hardened as they turned their gaze to the door, waiting for one of those things to enter. “How many do you think there are” Miri said quietly, afraid making too loud a noise would attract those things to them. “Can’t believe I’m saying this,” squid said, tucking their sword under their arm and putting the left hand out to Miri. “Let’s fight together for once and get the hell out of here, then we go on like nothing happened. Its my fault this happened, I drew us too far away from the circle” Miri considered their offer for a moment before she nodded to herself and put her hand in theirs. “Just this once, then we forget.” They shook hands before they turned to the door, swords raised once more and ready to fight it.

The door was smashed open off its hinges as the thing pushed its way through the door, it didn’t really have a name other than the thing, it didn’t seem to resemble anything anyone had seen before the worlds fall. It was a grotesque creature with horns along its back, its skin a pale off-white colour covered in a clear slime, it a rather rotund body, with small stubby legs, 10 in all. Its mouth was the worst. Closed it just look like a creepy smile, but as its moth opened, they could see its rows and rows of teeth, with a hole that went straight down to its stomach. It made a wailing noise as it slugged across the floor into the room. The things weren’t incredibly fast, but they didn’t need to be. They always came in large packs, and both Squid and Miri knew the others weren’t far behind, if they both wanted to make it out alive, they were going to need to work together.

Squid and Miri glanced at each other, nodding in a reassuring way at the other and turned their gaze to the thing, both ready to fight for not only their own survival, but the others too

Both Squid and Miri were drenched in the disgusting slime now, wounds adorned both their bodies. They had fought long and hard, a pack of 20 of them had surrounded the building and had taken over 2 hours to kill them all. Miri wasn’t quite as badly wounded as Squid as they had a bad habit of swooping in at the last moment and stopping him from getting hurt. Miri trudged over to Squid, putting an arm around them and helping them up, they both hobbled away from the carnage. While scoping out the area earlier Miri had noticed a first aid stand not too far from the building as it looked like an old run-down amusement park. Squid’s body weight leaned heavily onto Miri, causing them to struggle to pull them along, but knowing that he owed them his life. Squid tried to keep their groans of pain to themselves, trying to be as helpful as possible, so Miri didn’t feel like she was doing all the work.

Miri kicked the door down of the broken building, pulling Squid inside with her and placing them onto a seat in the corner before searching through all the drawers and cupboards for some kind of assistance. In her panic she then realized how disgusting her hands and clothing was, she rushed to the sink and thanked god that the water still ran before removing her top layer of armour and setting it aside, leaving him in a black shirt and leggings. Once he had cleaned himself up, he collected up bandages, sterilised wipes and anything else he felt might be needed. Squid had toppled over now, their wounds beginning to take a real tole on them. With quick precision and fluidity Miri removed Squid’s armour and set it beside her own before carefully pealing away Squid’s shirt. Their wound was rather deep, one of the things must have managed to bite them at some point. It was oozing blood and looked rather agitated. Miri was no medical professional, but even she knew this was way above her. The only thing she could thing to do was to clean it, sew it as best she could, bandage it and Squid back to the Circle quickly before they died.

Squid was starting to lose consciousness now and if they fell asleep, they wouldn’t be moving anytime soon. Miri tired to keep Squid awake, even at one point hitting them, but nothing seemed to work. Setting his resolve, he lay squid down across multiple chairs, and got to work cleaning their wounds.

Squid’s eyes started to open, the pain in their chest being much worse than they remembered, and much worse than any wound they had received before. Squid looked around the room, trying to get their bearings before their eyes landed on the figure slumped and asleep in a crumpled heap against the counter on the floor. Squid could recognize the curly green hair from anywhere, and a soft smile fell onto their face. Miri had dragged them here and had even fixed them up. If Squid didn’t know any better, they would think she went soft. Squid carefully pulled themself up from the chair and hobbled over to her side. Squid let their arm drape over their body, and they settled themself against the counter. Without even thinking twice about it they set a kiss against Miri’s forehead.

Its funny to think all of these years they had fought and battled one another, and one afternoon everything had changed. It squid was honesty with themself, and they often weren’t, being here like this with Miri was nice, it felt natural, it felt right. As squid passed out once more, they only hoped that Miri would feel the same

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOYED!!

#miridium x squid #squid x miridium #miri x squid #squid x miri #squidium #idk i got bored #please love me #that sounded desperate ignore me

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cryptoriascollectiblog · 3 years

Text

Today I thought I’d share my one (so far??) doll horror story. It happened almost two months ago and has since been resolved but damn, it was a headache and a half.

For those who don’t know, I’ve been waiting for the single release of OMG’s “Metal Chick” doll for a really long time. She was my favorite of the Remix Rocks four pack--and actually my favorite OMG doll design overall--but I wasn’t able to afford that. So when I heard the single release dolls were finally popping up in stores, you can bet I was keeping an eye out.

Around mid-August, I stopped into Target by chance and decided to browse the doll aisle. Where I live, it takes weeks before new dolls hit the shelves. However, she was there and I was so excited! I grabbed the first one I saw and headed home.

When I got home, I started assembling her outfit and that’s when I noticed a sizable tear in her skirt, one I did not make myself (I’m very careful when opening dolls.) I was totally bummed of course - this doll was 28$ after tax. I decided to take her back to Target and exchange her.

When I arrived at customer service, the sales clerk was very friendly and understanding and refunded the doll for me - as I paid in cash, he gave me a gift card for the money I spent. He waited while I went and picked out anther Metal Chick doll. I asked him if I could remove the plastic strip keeping the sleeve inside and check to see if this new doll was in better condition. He agreed.

The second doll had an even larger rip in her skirt, along with very messy sideburns (which is a separate issue,) glue spots all over her face and smudged lipstick.

I was of course pretty disappointed but I wasn’t going to make the poor guy stand there while I opened every one of the dolls on the shelf. He offered to give me a decent discount, so I buy the doll, hiding my frustration. This wasn’t his fault and it really was nice of him to do that for me.

That said, there really shouldn’t have been a need to discount in the first place. I’m not going to pretend I know anything about doll manufacturing but MGA is known for the quality of their dolls, be it design, articulation or their clothing. When I shell out almost 30$ for a doll, I think it’s within reason to assume there won’t be any significant damage immediately out-of-box.

My story, however, does not end there.

After sharing this on instagram, a friend of mine suggested I file a warranty claim on MGA’s website - making sure to include pictures. Maybe they’d send me a new doll or at the very least a replacement skirt. I actually had to send it twice because the first time I hit submit, thinking it was the way to upload photos...instead I sent the form without picture proof ^^; Thankfully, customer service read both my claims. They decided not to send a replacement doll (something about “they’re meant to be played with and variations are expected”) but did agree to send me a new skirt...

This is what I received in the mail:

As I’m sure you can see, this is not part of Metal Chick’s outfit. It’s a really nice quality skirt, but I don’t own the doll it belongs to. I then had to call customer service; they gave me a different email to reach out to and suggested I send the above photo, as well as the original one with Metal Chick’s ripped skirt. So I did.

This story does end with me receiving the right skirt, and fixing up the doll I have to where she actually looks very pretty (shoutout to all my collector friends who helped!) However...this whole experience has kinda turned me away from buying anymore MGA dolls. At least ones where I can’t see the doll itself in box. This entire ordeal was much more of a hassle and a headache than it should have been.

#doll stories #doll horror stories #metal chick #omg dolls #mga entertainment #collectiblogging

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haikyuulovercompany · 4 years

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Can I request an angsty Daichi imagine where the reader and him are exes and they’ve been on and off for a long time? Then the reader feels kind of jealous and upset when she sees Daichi with a new girl and when they get back together, s/o is really emo and asks him something like “do really want me? do you even love me? Why do we keep doing this?”. A nice happy ending pls.

Okay, I really tried to include everything, and I hope you like it! It’s nice to write for Daichi. He’s very warm and it’s easy to put him in different situations (: I don’t know how angsty this was, but i hope it is enough?? Thanks for the request!! -Admin Bunny.

----- Giving a relationship a second chance wasn’t easy. One could think it would be easy to fall into routine since both parts already knew each other, and if two people decided to try again, it meant the feelings were too strong to let go. There was a side some people didn’t think when adventuring once again with the same person: there was history.

After spending almost, a whole year apart, meeting again with Daichi and watching the love between them bloom again, ______ thought they would finally get the proper chance they deserved. She hadn’t foreseen the downside of it, but she quickly discovered it.

You don’t break up your relationship because of nothing. They had fallen out of love, or so they had thought. In that moment, the decision had hurt but it had made sense. They loved each other but it simply wasn’t the same after three years.

Getting over Daichi had proven to be the hardest part, especially because she hadn’t been able to truly get over him. After three months, ______ thought she was doing better. She missed Daichi only in certain situations that inevitably reminded her of him, and even then, it was nothing but nostalgia. It wasn’t the same pain she went through the first weeks. It was like that until Sugawara had uploaded a story to his social media, and ______ had saw Daichi hugging a new girl. In a frenzy, she had gone through his socials and quickly found said girl. It was quick to verify they were romantically involved. She shared much more of her life than him on her socials. It had been like getting her heart broken twice. ______ fell into the toxic game of comparing herself to her. It was truly painfully to see him happy with someone else.

She didn’t know what had happened, but she knew it had been a brief relationship. As Daichi put it, he hadn’t been ready and he rushed with someone else, unnecessarily hurting the two of them. He had openly talked about it, and in the moment, it had calmed her heart. They were restarting things, and she had never been so unsure of herself. She wanted to make things right so badly, she was obsessing over anything threating their relationship.

It had gotten to a point where _____ kept checking the socials of the other girl. Daichi’s words revolved around her head constantly. Brief or not, Daichi had broken things up because he wasn’t ready, not because he didn’t like her. Digging into that type of train of thought was noxious. She should be enjoying being with him again, but the ghosts of the previous months haunted her daily. She was afraid he would fell out of love with her again, or maybe he wasn’t even that in love anymore. She was afraid she was sharing his heart with someone else, and this fear only increased when she found out Daichi still followed the other girl everywhere. Maybe he couldn’t let her go.

It didn’t help when two weeks later, Daichi was acting distant. He hadn’t been answering to her texts with the same consistency than always, and whenever she called him, he seemed to be in a hurry. Was he regretting being with her again? Weeks of stress and insecurity had accumulated, putting her under a pressure she had no idea how to get rid of. She had to admit to Daichi she had been lurking through his life, and the least thing she wanted was be the stereotypical crazy girlfriend who had tabs on him. She didn’t want to be that person.

One week went by. Daichi had promised to have dinner with her that night to compensate for how absent he had been. This didn’t help ______. He was aware of his behavior, and he was quick to notice upon his arrival there was something that wasn’t right with his girlfriend.

He hadn’t expected her to jump and scream, but the short kiss he had received raised an alarm in his head. He had tried to shrug it off. It had been just a kiss. However, as the minutes pass and ______ wouldn’t even meet his eyes and kept her distance. “Is everything okay?” he finally asked.

She raised her eyes to him and nodded before looking away, warming up dinner for the two of them. “Yup.”

“______,” Daichi called, walking up to her and turning down the fire of the stove, and dedicating her a worrying look. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, okay?” But her tone told otherwise.

Daichi grabbed her softly by the arms, putting enough strength to keep her in place. “Can you please just talk to me?”

“Do you really want me?” ______ asked abruptly with anguish all over her voice.

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

She broke loose from his hold, putting distance between them again. “I mean us. Me as a girlfriend. Do you really want this?”

“______, obviously I want you. Why are you asking this?”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and what he wanted the most was to bring her into his arms, but it was plain obvious she was in a defensive state, and she wouldn’t let him. He waited for her to gather up herself and speak. “You dated someone else, and it wouldn’t be too crazy if you still want her. I know you still follow her everywhere, and I just wonder. I wonder all the time. You fell out of love with me once, you know,” she confessed, nibbling on her lower lip.

Daichi quickly knew what he had done wrong. He had assumed things would be as good as always. They couldn’t really start anew. They had to start from where they had left things. He had dismissed their past mistakes instead of resolving them. He didn’t need closure, but she clearly did need it. “We can agree that the both of us fell out love,” he started. “I needed to see a little bit what was out there, and in the end, there was nothing like you. That’s why seeing you again at that party was a relief. I had been considering on texting you. Check if just maybe you were missing me, too. It was funny because the more time it passed, instead of moving on I just wanted you more and more.”

“It was the same for me,” she admitted. His words were working on her. Her doubtful heart was peeking out of her chest at Daichi, yearning to hear more.

“We got blind and we needed to step out to see what we had. And I love what I have with you. I’m sure I could never find what I have with you with anyone else. There’s just one ______, and that’s who I want.” She looked at him, and he was already staring at her with tenderness. He smiled softly. “Come here.”

______ obeyed, and slowly made her way to him. He trapped her in his arms. “But what about her?”

“It’s over with her.”

“You said you left her because you weren’t ready. Not because you didn’t like it.”

He chuckled. “Because all I could think about was trying things with you again. Maybe if I had asked for a second chance, and you had rejected me, then I would have my answer and truly move on. You were always on my mind.”

“Really?”

“I swear on my life. But I need you to trust me in this. I’m looking for a promotion and there will be weeks where I will be very busy, but it doesn’t mean it has to do with you. Can you trust me?”

“I can.”

“Can I kiss you and then we can have dinner?” he asked, returning to a much lighter tone.

She smiled. “Yeah.” He leaned down and connected his lips with her, making sure to make the kiss last more than the regular peck. Goosebumps went down her neck at the feeling. It was the perfect way to seal her insecurities away. Daichi had never been a liar, and there hadn’t been a hint of deception. He wasn’t that type of guy. At the same time, she felt too naïve to believe Daichi was someone who would toy with others feelings. In that moment, the toxic thoughts torturing her through the week felt silly and without base. She had really let the worst of her took the wheel, and drove her to dark places. Thankfully, Daichi was like a beacon, guiding back to the shore—back to him. “We’ll make it work this time around, you’ll see,” he assured her before kissing her one more time. She felt a spark of happiness, and kissed him back with more enthusiasm.

#daichi sawamura #daichi x y/n #daichi x reader #daichi x you #sawamura x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #karasuno #karasuno x reader

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bindi-the-skunk · 4 years

Text

Son of Frankenstein chapter 2

Lost and Found

Thankfully, Doctor Jekyll had managed to pass out near his sofa and so avoided getting an ugly head injury, though the way his neck bent in the fall when the back of his skull hit the cushions would most likely cause him some discomfort when he woke up.

Frankenstein chuckled and mumbled something under her breath, but was willing to help Lavender get him properly onto the sofa and not just leave him in a scarecrow-like slump on the floor.

Not that the younger woman needed much help, with how skinny the man was, he proved about as hard to move as one of Jaspers pets, but the assistance was appreciated nonetheless and allowed her to not jostle the other too much.

"So, my dear, what caused him to tip like stunned bovine?" Frankenstein smirked, a bit tired from her march to the room, but the funny sight that greeted her more than made up for it.

"Well.." Lavender smiled nervously, as she had not expected Frankenstein to find out about all of this so fast she had wanted doctor Jekyll to tell his honorary auntie himself (how humorous it was for him to call her that earlier and for it to be actually true in a way!) but since he was currently indisposed-

"Is that my photo!?" Victoria suddenly went red from embarrassment or rage, perhaps a mix of both, and went to snatch the picture from the extremofaunic zoologist who just managed to keep it from the older woman's grasp "Did he steal it, thinking he could blackmail me into doing his foolish circus act!?"

"No! He didn't steal anything from you!" Lavender quickly said this was not going how it was supposed to at all, she needed to calm her down before the whole room got trashed! "I took it because I was just curious, that's all, he had nothing to do with my actions, but-"

"But what?!" Victoria nearly screeched, that picture was her personal property! No one had the right to look at it! No one! Not even Creature had seen it!

"I believe your Henry Clerval and Doctor Jekyll are related... they look almost exactly alike! Did Clerval get married before he died? The Doctor said he was adopted so it is not out of the question that-" Lavender started to say as fast as she could get out, only to be cut off by Frankenstein's laughter which was so uproarious she was bent over from the force of the bellows.

"Those two!? Related?! My dear Lavender, I am under the impression you have been inhaling some rather potent fumes from someone's laboratory to think such a thing!" Victoria cackled and was forced to sit in a nearby chair to keep from falling onto her rear.

Lavender went red herself at being laughed at by her idol but, this just strengthened her resolve to get to the bottom of this whole thing "Clerval had NO ONE who he was interested in romantically? Are you sure?"

"The only thing he was interested in was falling for the tourist nonsense in the places we visited, though he was a good caregiver after...certain instances, the only person he ever showed any interest in was-"

Suddenly, the older woman's face went pale, making Lavender reach out with her arms, just in case Frankenstein fell over herself in a faint, the zoologist praying she would not have to deal with two overdramatic swooners in a single day.

Victoria's face was scarily blank, her eyes being the only thing that moved, they darted around as if remembering something she had long since buried deep in her mind that was now being unwelcomingly played before her like a performance on a stage.

Lavender did not register what happened in the next few seconds till she felt two hands on her shoulders and a pair of olive eyes burning into her own.

"How old is he!?" Victoria asked, eyes looking as though they fought back both blinding rage and unimaginable grief.

Lavender was confused at the weird question but managed to open her mouth to give an answer "T-thirty-five"

Was all the scientist managed to get out before she was released from the surprisingly strong grip and the older woman wandered to the other side of the room mumbling to herself, of which the other strained to hear.

"It fits...that time...I had forgotten it all through these decades...I thought it died...how would...could I make the same mistake twice?!" Frankenstein whisper shouted as her gloved hands dug into her scalp, making her hair even messier "I-I have to think...do not tell him anything when he wakes up! I will tell him...send him to my room the moment he wakes!"

And with that, Victoria left the room in a rush, leaving a very confused Lavender and a still unconscious Jekyll behind to wonder what on God's good earth just happened.

That did not go very well, did it? Did it? Did not seem to.

--- Come on, please wake up soon, you have to go meet Frankenstein! This is no time to sleep! Too much to learn! So much to do!

Should she be concerned? He had been out of consciousness for at least twenty minutes...fainting only lasted a few seconds or a couple of minutes, or that is what all the medical books said, perhaps it was because he still was not sleeping very well? And his body was forcing him to remain asleep to recover?

Perhaps she could try waking Jekyll up? Would that cause more harm than good? She needed to get him up and moving, so they could go see Frankenstein so she could explain things to him!

What had Frankenstein meant by her mumblings? Thought it died? Same mistake twice? That sounded like she was his-

Oh, goodness...

Could it be?

She really had to know now! If they were truly...mother and son, this changed everything! To think they all would be able to learn what happened between the lines of The Modern Prometheus!

Did this technically make Jekyll, Creature's baby brother? Did Frankenstein use some of her DNA in Creatures...well...creation? If so, that would make them siblings in a way, this was so exciting! Perhaps it would give Creature a bit of joy learning he had a sibling of sorts.

She could not wait to tell the others! She was the first to learn about this mind-blowing news! Everyone would be so jealous! Tee Hee!

Lavender hated waiting! She hoped Frankenstein would return, having chosen to not wait for her son to go to her, or doctor Jekyll would wake up and be able to make his way there!

Her face split into a grin when she heard a groan come from the sofa, finally!

Now play it calm, Lavender! Don't make him think something is wrong. --

Jekyll rubbed the back of his head, which was throbbing uncomfortably, thankfully Hyde was still licking his wounds in their mind space from his dressing down at Queen Lucy's hands, so he was too deep inside to cause his type of bother at the moment, small mercies, but he was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, not when it involved some peace and quiet.

A glass was suddenly shoved under the split man's nose, and a dainty hand producing two white pills a moment later.

"Here you are, Doctor Jekyll! You took a bad tumble there, I was starting to get worried" Lavender smiled, hoping she looked friendly and not suspicious, glad when the pills and water were accepted and taken with no complaints.

"I must have passed out, I'm sure something to eat will help," Henry said, getting to his feet, more than happy when the pills proved fast-acting on his headache, though the lack of food in his stomach was making the ache go from his head to his belly.

But he was no stranger to that feeling, did not make it any more fun though, some toast should do the trick and it would make dealing with his problematic guest a little less like pulling the teeth of an ancient horror.

"I'll get it! You need to go see Frankenstein right now!" Lavender responded a bit too quickly and earned a quirked eyebrow in response.

"I already gave her the medical potion today, is there something that has gone wrong?" Jekyll asked, noting the woman's smile was just a bit too wide, reminding him of poor Jaspers attempt at a gentleman's smile.

"Oh, Nononono! Nothing is wrong at all! You will find things very, very RIGHT in fact!" Lavender smiled wider and started to push the doctor towards the door which he allowed in too much confusion to object. "Now go up there! And I will bring you both something! I'm sure Rachel will be more than happy to make tea and biscuits for this!" and with a whirl of her skirts, the Leviathan lover disappeared into the halls.

Jekyll was admittedly suspicious but shrugged off the feeling of dread pooling in his gut, not like a sleepy old woman could do too much damage, right? He would stay out of arms reach and listen to what Frankenstein had to say to him, hopefully, it was not just a ploy to call him a slut again...

There was not enough soap in the world to wash that mouth out! Not that he would ever try to do the deed, he liked having all his fingers, and getting them bitten off was a less than pleasant idea.

Taking a deep breath, he headed for the attic space and slapping yet another smile on his face, this one being a bit more convincing after his pseudo-nap, got to keep up appearances, even for Frankenstein and as much as he did not want to.

He still hoped, in his heart, she would change her mind, take part in the exhibition, convince the rest of the lodgers to join back in, they needed all the help they could get! If this failed...well he knew where Queen Lucy lived now and that Rachel was related...no! no! Bad idea! He would not ask a favor from her!

But if it came down to it and they both had very similar motivations, he was not proud enough at this point not to beg, he did say he would die for science, but would he go to a known thief for it?

Yes, Yes he would do that, in a heartbeat, if that is what it took to not see his life's work be destroyed, to see everything he put blood, sweat, and tears into building, go up in smoke, to prove those who doubted him right, to have his dreams spit on...mocked...

No!

Don't think about that! Don't think that way, not yet, you're not in that pit of despair just yet, keep your head up and a smile on your face, things will work out fine! Just fine, even better than expected even, he just had to do a bit more convincing, perhaps this conversation was the key to the exhibition's success!

The door creaked as Henry opened it and stepped inside, ignoring the urge to wrinkle his nose at the sight of random things littering the floor and the smell of an unbathed life-weaver hitting his nasal cavity like an uncontrolled carriage.

Frankenstein, much to his surprise, was sitting quietly, hands resting in an almost lady-like manner on her lap! she even looked up and smiled at him! And it was not a cold smirk or a disgusted sneer, an actual soft smile, at him of all people! Jekyll was not sure if he should be happy, or disturbed...

What magic spell did Lavender cast on Frankenstein!? He wanted to know it immediately!

Victoria scooted over and patted the now clear space on the bed, signaling for him to sit next to her, and reached out with her other hand in an almost comforting manner.

"Come here, my boy, we have much to talk about,"

#TGS #tgs jekyll #Tgs Hyde #the glass scientists #The glass scientists AU #Based off of a theory #Son of Frankenstein AU #tgs frankenstein #Frankenstein #frankenstiensmonster

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stargazing-enby · 5 years

Note

Drarry: Harry learns Draco goes "traditional" under his robes

Thanks for the prompt! This was hard to write but I had so much fun 😂

Beta’d by @keyflight790! 💕

Drarry | 3k | Explicit | 8th Year, Drinking Games, Truth or Dare, Drunken Kissing, Neck Kissing, Rutting, Draco Not Wearing Underwear | Read on AO3

“Take your robes off.”

For a moment there was silence. Then there was Malfoy’s intake of breath and a low snicker from Parkinson. Pinking slightly, Malfoy reached for his drink.

“That’ll be your third time skipping, mate,” said Seamus with a mischievous grin. “Are you sure you wanna go there?”

“Yeah, mate,” Parkinson chuckled. “You sure you want to go there?”

“Fuck you,” Malfoy muttered before taking a gulp. Then, turning to Seamus, “The fact that you have no sense of shame doesn’t mean we’re all like…” Malfoy scowled, gestured in Seamus’s general direction. “Like that. And please, do refrain from calling me mate next time.”

Seamus had been the first to end up in nothing but his pants that night. He’d been cocky about it, winking at Dean as he took off his pyjama bottoms and threw them on Dean’s lap.

He shrugged, idly scratching at his bare chest, saying, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

As the game went on, Harry’s gaze remained on the pink that had tinged Malfoy’s cheekbones and that refused to fade away—on the quick, nervous movements of his eyes and mouth. There was a round of laughter, a shuffle at his side as Neville got up alongside Padma, but it all seemed to be happening at the end of a tunnel. A tunnel made of the expression that had bloomed on Malfoy’s face at Seamus’s dare; made of the not-quite-unexpected, not-quite-wanted disappointment that had washed over Harry as Malfoy refused his dare—the last one he’d be able to refuse that night. Honestly, what an idiotic move. And for what? Keeping his robes on? Was the git really that much of a prude? It wasn’t like they all hadn’t already seen his legs in the Quidditch changing rooms! Or his bum, or the layer of thin, blond hair that covered his thighs and his stupid calves!

“Maybe his pants are extremely ridiculous,” he murmured to Ron, thinking aloud. “Maybe he’s wearing Gryffindor pants!”

Ron blinked a few times as his attention snapped from the snogging session happening in the centre of the circle to Harry. He gave him a confused look, then scrunched his nose when Harry’s words got to him. “Mate, please, spare us both that mental image.”

The bottle fell twice on Harry before it even came close to pointing at Malfoy again. The first time Harry had to confess to having jerked off to Quidditch magazines; the second he had to lick the sole of Ron’s foot. Still grimacing from the taste, he spun the bottle again. He took another sip of his drink, and it took him a moment to check where the bottle had stopped.

It was pointing at Malfoy.

Malfoy, who was looking at him with a raised eyebrow—whose composed expression didn’t hide the way he was clutching at his own foot, the way he was gnawing at the inside of his lower lip.

It wasn’t the first time they all played drinking games, but it was the first time Harry had Malfoy at his mercy. The reverse had only happened once, and Malfoy had dared Harry to say he was a scarheaded nincompoop. He’d been avoiding a confrontation, Harry knew. He wasn’t yet sure he wanted to give Malfoy the same satisfaction.

“Well?” he prompted when Malfoy just kept piercing him with that stupid stare. Malfoy took another moment to think. It was as though he was analysing every possibility, every outcome; as though he was trying to predict what Harry’s next move would be, kind of like Ron did when they played chess.

Finally, Malfoy said, “Truth.”

Harry’s mind lagged for a moment as he realised he’d been expecting Malfoy to say dare. Then, without thinking, he asked, “Why did you refuse to take off your robes?”

As he longingly eyed his drink, Malfoy’s eyes widened ever so slightly. He looked like he hadn’t been expecting that question, as obvious as it was for Harry.

“Nu-uh-uhh.” Zabini placed Malfoy’s glass out of his reach. “No more skipping for you, I’m afraid!”

With a scowl, Malfoy raised his chin at Harry. It didn’t hide the way colour rose back in his cheekbones as he mumbled, trying and failing to sound proud, “I…go traditional, if you must know.”

“I knew it!” Seamus bellowed as some of their classmates snorted around them. Ron, who’d been taking a sip at his firewhiskey, spluttered all over the floor. Parkinson doubled over at the expression on Zach’s face.

Harry frowned, looking around. “What—what does that mean?” he asked in Ron’s direction. But his friend was too busy pretending to sob on Hermione’s shoulder.

“Oh, this keeps getting better,” said Parkinson between snickers. “Nobody tell him!”

“It means he’s currently not wearing any—mmphh!” Hannah covered Seamus’s mouth, but what he heard was enough for Harry to understand. Pants. Malfoy was not wearing pants under his robes.

It was as though the information took entire minutes to fully sink in. As though it was too condensed to flow, and every inch it sunk into Harry’s conscience had him blinking, shaking his head at the realisation. His classmates eventually stopped bickering, eventually kept playing, and yet Harry stayed still, his eyes focusing and unfocusing on Malfoy’s—now completely red—face, on Malfoy’s hunched posture. On Malfoy’s crotch.

Merlin. Was that even comfortable? Surely it couldn’t be, right? And why was it even called traditional? Was it a pureblood thing? Bloody hell, did Lucius Malfoy not wear pants either? Had Voldemort?

“Quit staring at me, you bloody heathen,” Malfoy suddenly snapped. He still looked incredibly flustered, and Harry promptly decided he rather liked the slight widening of his eyes.

Dean leaned on Neville’s thigh to wave a hand in front of Harry’s face, saying, “I think we may have broken him,” but Harry just batted it away, frowning at Malfoy.

“You don’t wear pants but I’m the heathen?”

“Um…Harry.” Nev pointed at the bottle on the floor. “It’s your turn.”

“What? Who just spun it?”

At the other side of the circle, Zabini smirked. “Truth or dare, darling?”

Harry’s gaze fell from Zabini to the bottle, then back to Zabini. Then Malfoy caught his attention, and as Harry replied, unthinking, “Dare,” their stares held.

“Excellent.” Zabini took a slow gulp of firewhiskey, carefully deposited the glass in front of him. Wiped his lower lip with a finger. “Give our Draco a snog, if you please.”

Malfoy’s head snapped to the side. Ron’s intake of breath sounded almost like a whistle, and Parkinson and Zabini high-fived in front of Malfoy’s horrified face.

“No,” Malfoy spluttered. “Absolutely not!”

“It’s Potter that has to decide to refuse the dare, may I remind you.”

As all the eyes in the circle turned to him, Harry took in the sudden need to crawl forward and onto Malfoy’s lap. He could refuse the dare, he’d only used one of his three opportunities so far, but…

Taking another swig of his drink, he tried his best to smirk and said, “Are you scared, Malfoy?”

“Of you?” Malfoy huffed. “Please.”

“Well then, what’s all the fuss about?” Harry stumbled forward, knocking his—thankfully empty—glass in the process and earning a few chuckles from the group. When he was face to face with Malfoy, though, his resolve shook somewhat, his mind clouding at the idea of sitting in Malfoy’s lap—of…of being just a layer of fabric away from…

“I don’t have all day, Scarhead,” said Malfoy through gritted teeth. He wasn’t looking at Harry, though, not exactly; his light grey eyes—their depth so overwhelming from close up—were practically flying from the floor to Harry’s shoulder, to his own glass of firewhiskey, to…to his own crotch, for a moment, as though he needed to check his robes were still there.

With a shiver of pleasure that travelled all the way down to his groin, Harry clumsily climbed on top of Malfoy’s welcoming lap.

“First you try to avoid this,” Harry said slowly, “now you’re impatient…” Damn, but Malfoy’s thighs felt hot under his. “It almost seems like you’re trying to hide something.” He leaned forward, his nose almost bumping against Malfoy’s pointy one. Godric, but Malfoy’s scent felt like it was running through his veins, intoxicating him alongside the alcohol. It felt so good he wanted to bury his face in Malfoy’s robes at his collarbone and just…breathe. “Some sort of…feelings, perhaps?”

“D—Don’t be ridiculous, Potter,” Malfoy hissed. But his eyes did that irresistible thing again, and his hard body shook a little under Harry’s. “And quit the chattering. You were dared to snog me, not to fucking—not to—”

“Rile you up?” Harry brushed his lips to Malfoy’s cheek, smiling, clutching at Malfoy’s robes under his shoulder blades to keep himself from swaying. “Maybe if you weren’t so desperate for my mouth…”

“I’m not—! Ugh, just—just shut up and come here, you insufferable bloody—”

Strong, angry fingers gripped Harry’s hair as Malfoy guided their mouths together with a groan.

His classmate’s snickers, their gasps and comments and shouts of delight, got lost in the gush of blood rushing behind Harry’s ears—in the low, keening sound that reverberated in Malfoy’s throat when Harry impatiently worked his lips open with the tip of his tongue; when Harry traced the wet inside of Malfoy’s lower lip, biting at it with a startled moan as Malfoy, needy, pulled at his hair until he was just at the edge of pain.

Light-headed and desperately in need of somewhere to hold on to, Harry let his hands slide down until they were resting on the promising curve of Malfoy’s arse. It earned him a soft moan, another pull at his hair. Malfoy’s hips bucked, a minute gesture that nonetheless made Harry’s cock twitch. Merlin, but he was hardening. From kissing Malfoy. And in front of his friends and classmates, no less. And…and Malfoy wasn’t wearing anything under his robes, and what if—what if they slid up somehow, what if someone saw, what if Harry got to—to see?

As unrealistic as that scenario was, it was enough for the sounds around him to come into sharp focus. He pulled back from the kiss, heaving, shivering in Malfoy’s arms. When he opened his eyes, Malfoy was devouring him with his stare, and Harry found himself short of insults, of comebacks, too busy deciding whether Ron would faint if he leaned in for more. Whether he cared.

When Malfoy brushed their parted lips together again, though, a few groans reverberated around them, and something—a shoe, he realised a second later—hit the back of his head. Or rather, Malfoy’s hands still tangled at the back of his head.

“Get a roooooom!”

“But spin the bottle first!”

Malfoy’s eyes were still on him when Harry tumbled backwards and grabbed the bottle. It took him a second to realise he needed to turn around in order to spin it, and another couple of them to come up with a question for Parvati.

“Er…who do you fancy?”

There was another round of groans, and even Parvati rolled her eyes. “Congratulations, Harry, you’re officially the last to know.” When he just blinked at her, she said, her knee starting to bounce, “It’s Hannah, you idiot!”

“Oh.” He was still sitting in front of Malfoy, he realised as Parvati spun the bottle with another exasperated huff. He turned to him again, unthinking, but all Malfoy had for him was a raised eyebrow and a pair of high, beautifully pinked cheekbones.

When Harry opened his mouth, made to move closer, Malfoy turned his eyes away from him and mumbled an embarrassed, “Go back to your seat, Potter.” And an instant later, “Your Weasel seems like he could do with another shoulder to cry on.”

So that was that, Harry thought with a pang of disappointment as he crawled back to his seat—bumping against a very unsteady Michael Corner in the process. He wasn’t about to do anything with Malfoy if he didn’t want to.

Malfoy, though, did a terribly poor job of keeping his gaze away from Harry the rest of the night for someone who wasn’t interested in more. Catching stare after stare directed his way, but never meeting Malfoy’s infuriating eyes, Harry had to spend a good half hour clinging to what little of his sanity that kiss that left him with.

When the circle finally dispersed, some of their classmates going for more drinks at the table, some others retreating to the sofas or their rooms, a strong hand pulled Harry’s robes at his nape and he was suddenly standing in front of a very flustered, very annoyed Draco Malfoy.

“What are you waiting for?” Malfoy hissed, pulling at him again. “Come on, we don’t have all night.”

And so, just like that, Malfoy and Harry were sneaking out of the common room. Harry didn’t have time to check whether anyone had noticed them leaving together, but as soon as the door closed behind him and the sound of their quick steps echoed on the stone floor of the deserted, dark corridor, the thin level of worry lifted from his shoulders, leaving behind a quickly growing coat of desire.

“Where are we—”

“Shush!” Malfoy shot him a murderous glance. “You bloody Gryffindor.”

The Astronomy tower, that was where. Harry only just realised their destination when he tripped over the stairs on their quick way up, too lost in the pale shine of Malfoy’s hair every time they walked past a torch, past a window that let the moonlight peek in, to concentrate on keeping balance. Malfoy grabbed his hand, hoisted him up, and then turned his back to Harry only to shake his head and face Harry again, his eyes glinting in the gloom of the narrow, curved corridor. Harry watched, dumbfounded and mesmerised, as Malfoy seemingly argued with himself—as Malfoy crowded him with a groan and placed his hands on either side of Harry’s head, leaning in.

“We,” Malfoy breathed against Harry’s cheek, “are making it to the top of this stupid tower.” And then he pressed his lips to Harry’s and worked Harry’s mouth open, just like Harry had done earlier, but with an angry frown, with a groan of frustration. Harry clutched at Malfoy’s robes, his whole body shaking, wanting—no, needing. Their tongues met, and Harry gasped, and pulled Malfoy closer, and thrusted his body forward, too drunk and aroused to restrain the moan that broke from his throat when Malfoy pressed him harder against the wall. Harry’s head would have hit the stone if Malfoy hadn’t brought his fingers back to his strands, clinging roughly to them as he held Harry’s waist with his other hand.

With an urgent, pleading hum, Harry slipped his hands around Malfoy, raking them over Malfoy’s arse. Merlin, but that felt overwhelmingly good. Malfoy panted against his mouth, a low whine only half-forming at the back of his throat, and Harry grabbed at his arse cheeks and brought their bodies together with another unsteady thrust.

“Fffuck,” Malfoy slurred against the side of Harry’s mouth, dampening Harry’s cheek. His mission to get to the top of the tower apparently forgotten, he roughly grabbed Harry’s jaw and tilted his head to the side with a pull to his hair. And then there was a mouth on his neck, and Harry was melting, Malfoy’s body against his the only thing holding him in place as he moaned, and gasped, and rolled his body against Malfoy’s—his cock against the bulge of Malfoy’s.

He could feel Malfoy’s groans of pleasure against his neck. Could feel Malfoy’s tongue circling his wet skin, could feel Malfoy’s puffed breaths as he trapped another patch of his throat and drew it into his mouth with a loud sucking sound, with another twirl of his tongue; with a light, maddening scrap of teeth. He was still holding Harry’s head, still holding him in place, and all Harry could see as his knees became weaker with every thrust, with every twitch of Malfoy’s bum under his clawed hands, with every twitch of their cocks, was the side of Malfoy’s head—his beautiful, shining hair—was the curved stone wall of the tower, a torch blinking in the distance. All he could smell was Malfoy and the cold humidity of the castle; all he could hear were their moans, all he could taste was the memory of those lips on his—those lips that were kissing their way up his jaw, sucking at his earlobe.

Malfoy licked a long stripe just behind his ear, all the way to the line of his scalp, his nails digging into Harry’s head, his hips snapping forward with the help of Harry’s hands. Harry gasped, and shook, and rutted desperately against Malfoy as he came, his toes curling when Malfoy sucked at his jaw through his orgasm. Malfoy whined a long, high note, burying his face in Harry’s neck. His hands fell to Harry’s hips as his movements, too, became erratic, frenzied, and then weak, slow, slower, until he came to a halt.

For a second there was only their ragged breaths—Malfoy’s body slumped against Harry, Harry’s own sunk against the wall. Then Malfoy stepped back and Harry’s eyes fell to the still half-hard bulge at his groin. His robes were dark, and the corridor was dimly lit, but…there was a wet spot there, Harry was sure he could see it. Unthinking, he reached out and brushed two fingers to it, marvelling in the thought of Malfoy’s cock being but a layer of clothes away from his touch—of Malfoy’s come dampening his robes as the head of his cock brushed against them.

Malfoy’s breath hitched, and he took another step back. Harry dropped his hand, feeling sated and tired, saying, “I…wanted to see.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes, huffing; but then he visibly swallowed as he stepped forward and, not quite catching Harry’s lower lip in his, breathed, “I wanted you to see.”

Harry’s entire body shivered, his eyes falling closed, his every nerve trembling as Malfoy’s lips grazed his cheek and the edge of his ear. And when Malfoy’s lips curved into a smile against his sensitive skin—when he murmured, his breath unsteady, “Next time,” and “at the top of the tower,” Harry could do little but gasp, but hold on to the wall behind him as Malfoy’s retreating steps reverberated through the stairwell.

#drarry #otpshipper98 #drarry squad #drarry smut #800 follower milestone #lemon #8th year #drinking games #alcohol #harry potter

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what-big-teeth · 5 years

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Slumber (Male Sandman, pt. 1)

A huge shoutout to @delldarling! Her awesome stories featuring Spiros brought to mind this mythical being and the idea behind this. Be sure to check out her blog! Female Reader (POV) x Male Monster [Part 2]

It’s the twelfth night you’ve gone without sleep, and you’re on the verge of tearing your hair out. The issue hasn’t been consecutive, but it’s starting to grate on your shot nerves, like nails on a chalkboard. Biting your bottom lip, you turn onto your side in your bed and think back to how this whole mess started.

One random night without sleep became two, then three, until you could only sleep two days out of the whole week. With time, your performance at work began to suffer due to lack of energy. And worse, you started snapping at your co-workers, who only questioned you out of concern. It got to the point where your boss had to intervene, flat out telling you to go home.

Near tears, you came home to your apartment and to your best friend. Robin was quick to notice your growing distress. And without a complaint, they drove you to the doctor’s office and stayed by your side during the entire visit. You can still remember the calming warmth of their light brown hand as it held yours.

It helped, especially when you were diagnosed with acute insomnia. It had to be stress-related, the doctor said. But your life so far had been worry-free. Paid bills, a normal workload, a regular diet. Nothing out of the ordinary. Which is probably why your doctor prescribed patience and time, to see if the issue would resolve itself.

But here you are, coming up on a month since your insomnia began. You’ve done everything the doctor suggested: lighter dinners before bed and no caffeine at all. Hell, you’ve even bought a set of blackout curtains and began charging your phone on the opposite side of your bedroom. Just so you wouldn’t be tempted to check it.

All of that, and still nothing.

The wooden floorboards of the hallway creak and your bedroom door slowly opens. The dim light of the hallway washes over part of your room. But it doesn’t reach your bed due to a long, stretching shadow obscuring most of the glow. It belongs to Robin, who’s wearing their most comfortable pair of pajama pants, an oversized t-shirt, and their slippers. They look at you with a sympathetic expression.

“What time is it?” you rasp.

“Almost one.” They stifle a yawn, but their wide nose still flairs out. “The chamomile tea didn’t help?”

You slowly shake your head, knowing you look as miserable as you feel. But Robin blows away a stray, natural curl from their face and musters up a small smile.

“Then we’ll try something else,” they say in a soothing voice.

“No,” you say, tone sharper than intended. You wince, muttering an apology to them. “The art exhibit is in two days and you should be at your best to showcase your work. You need to rest.”

“So do you,” they say.

Because you both know you can’t keep going without sleep. Because your sick leave hours are running out. Because Robin has taken on your portion of the rent and utility bill, which is more than they can handle. But as much as you both wish it, there’s nothing they can do to help.

“I’ll be okay,” you say. “We can head back to the clinic once the month is up.”

When my acute insomnia goes full-blown chronic, you think.

“If you’re sure...” Robin hedges, rubbing their knuckles against their short beard.

You nod your head and tuck yourself deeper under the covers.

“I am. Have a good night, Robin. Sweet dreams.”

They frown, but turn away from the doorway and close the door behind them with a soft click.

Leaving you alone with the silence of your room and your wet, burning eyes.

You curl in on yourself, silently begging for some sort of relief. Anything to rid you of your insomnia so your life can return to normal. Soon enough, your eyes have no more tears to shed and your soft crying subsides.

That’s when you hear the hissing.

It’s not like the sound any animal or person would make. It’s constant, like a steady flow. Something pelting against the floor, getting closer and closer.

Until it’s right beside your bed.

You don’t react as quickly as you should. You can’t find the energy to scream for Robin or move away. All you can do is screw your eyes shut, wait, and hope.

The source of the noise gently caresses your damp, trembling cheek with a warm touch. Then your eyelids. A sudden heaviness settles onto them. And no matter how hard you try, you can’t open your eyes.

“Sleep.”

The deep, smooth voice follows you down into the dark as your body stills and your mind falls silent.

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

A high-pitched alarm wrenches you awake. Blessedly, Robin is quick to turn it off, having always been an early riser. The noise silenced, you shift and snuggle deeper into your bed to keep sleeping...

You jackknife into a sitting position, eyes wide. You were sleeping. But how? Absolutely nothing you had tried worked so far. Not Robin’s home remedies or the doctor’s suggestions. What made last night different from all the rest? You think back to then, to your tossing and turning in bed, to Robin checking on you and then—

“Sleep.”

Your fingertips touch your cheek as your skin recalls a warm, gentle caress. And the soothing, masculine voice that provided you some much needed relief. You would allow yourself to admire the warm cadence of the voice if the reality of a late-night break-in didn’t suddenly slam into you.

You scramble out of bed and yank back your curtains. You squint against the sunlight, but soon find what it reveals. All of your belongings are in their place and nothing has been touched. Not a break-in then. But there’s something new that doesn’t belong. Swirling trails of black, glistening dirt are pooled before your door. The dirt extends from its source, crossing the wooden floor of your room and ending beside your bed.

You walk over towards the mess and squat down. Reaching out, you rub the dirt between your fingers and note the very fine consistency.

It’s not dirt, you realize. It’s sand. But there’s something else: a black, brittle feather sits on the floor near the headboard of your bed. When you touch it, it disintegrates, transforming into the same black sand that’s sprinkled in your room.

And you realize it all belongs to the one who gave you a night’s reprieve.

That leaves a number of questions whirling around in your head, but three push themselves toward the forefront of your mind. Who was the figure? How did he get inside your apartment? And how did he relieve your insomnia?

The answer to this mystery, you realize, lies in the strange mess on your floor. You purse your lips and stand up. First things first.

You sidestep the proof of intrusion and tiptoe towards your door. Once it’s open far enough, you slip out into the hallway. The scent of breakfast, savory and sweet, drifts through the air and pulls a growl from deep within your stomach. But you ignore your hunger and turn towards the laundry room.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long to locate the broom and dustpan as they’re leaning near the washing machine, where they were last left. With both gripped tightly in hand, you stride towards your room.

You don’t stop sweeping until all traces of last night are piled in the dustpan. Even then, you look around the room and check it over. It’s still your room, but somehow it feels different. Less foreign and more familiar. All because you were able to sleep.

Your feet lead to you to the shared dining room and kitchen, where Robin stands before the stove with a spatula in their hand. They turn to greet you, but stop short when they spot the filled dustpan you hold.

“Something…happened last night.” You say. “I managed to fall asleep.”

Their mouth twists into a confused but happy smile. “That’s great! But why do you have…”

Robin points their chin towards the black sand.

“Yeah, about that.”

You explain everything that happened. What you heard and felt; what you couldn’t see. The mess in your room after waking up, including the strange feather. Robin places a steaming plate of homemade breakfast and a fork in front of you with a contemplative hum.

“I know I locked the front door and balcony door last night,” they say. “And I didn’t hear anything after going back to bed.”

“I’m glad you believe me,” you say. Your hands ball into fists against your thighs. “Because I still can’t believe what I saw.”

Robin pushes your plate closer to you; you don’t need to be told twice. You scoop up a sizable mouthful of food with your fork and blow on it to cool it down. Between bites, Robin walks over to the dustpan and gathers a bit of sand in their hand.

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

Your fork clinks against an empty spot on your plate. Against all logic, you want to say yes. Going further, you want him to return. Because of the deep relief he brought you when you were close to losing hope. Robin, who’s been by your side since both of you were toddlers, gives you a knowing look.

“I don’t think he’s dangerous,” you say, thinking of the soft touch against your cheek. “He almost sounded relieved when he spoke. Like he was finally in the right place at the right time.”

“Guess that settles it then.”

Robin dusts off their hands then turns on their heel to face you.

“We should get ready to welcome your mystery visitor again tonight.” They grin. “But first, how about a trip to your favorite bakery? Like a mini day out on the town.”

“Don’t you mean ‘night’?” you say.

“Besides your sandy savior, do you really want anything to do with nighttime after everything that’s happened so far?”

You huff out a laugh and agree with them, turning your attention back to your plate.

With Robin’s help, you know you’ll get to the bottom of things.

#monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster/human #exophilia #sandman boyfriend #reader insert #a bit of mystery before the reveal #fem reader #female reader

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Stupid For You, Chapter 4 (Crygi, Jankie, Jaida x Nicky) - Metaluna

summary: Jackie has to address her actions from the party, while Gigi has to process feelings she’d rather not. Also, if you aren’t familiar with speaking on radios, 10-4 means affirmative.

Gigi spent the rest of the day in bed. After crying until her eyes were red and puffy, she sat in bed trying to process everything. Crystal had a boyfriend. A boyfriend. When she shut her eyes, all she could see was the blonde boy and Crystal kissing. All Gigi could do was think about their relationship. How did they meet? Who asked who out? Have they slept together? Were they in love? Was it serious? She then pictured them doing gross romantic couple things. The thought of Crystal and that boy going to a pumpkin patch and picking out a pumpkin while sharing hot apple cider made her heart sink. Gigi pictured the two of them at prom, his tux matching her dress, dancing the night away. After breaking her heart with more scenarios, she forced herself to stop thinking so hard about it.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about the night before. Gigi thought about how beautiful and carefree Crystal looked… She thought about the way her face lit up when she won beer pong. She started thinking about the two of them dancing… The way Crystal’s hips swayed against her… Gigi’s mind wandered to when Crystal changed in front of her.

Never had Gigi Goode seen anyone’s bare chest but her own. She bit her lip as she pictured Crystal topless, while stroking her own breast, while her other hand trailed downward… She knew it was a bad idea, so she forced herself to stop. Gigi sat up in bed, trying desperately to clear her head.

Her next thoughts were about Crystal’s sexuality. Was she straight? With the way that she acted around her, Gigi was almost certain that she wasn’t. There was no way. But what if she was? What if she was reaching, and everything Crystal did was completely reasonable for a friend to do?

Back when Nora lived at home, Gigi watched her older sister get her heartbroken many times. Nora, much like Jaida, got extremely invested extremely quickly. One time when she was fourteen and Nora was eighteen, Gigi watched her big sister cry over some boy on the debate team. It had been the second time that month. Gigi, who had finally had enough told her sister to stop being so stupid for him.

Now she was trying to tell herself to stop being so stupid for Crystal. Four years later, Gigi understood that her words were much easier said than done.

Gigi just hoped to God that she would be able to keep it together the next morning.

“Hello, my love!” Crystal said cheerfully handing an extremely unenthused Gigi a coffee mug.

Gigi forced herself to snap out of it. It’s not like Crystal was shattering her heart into a million pieces and then torching them on purpose.

Crystal looked at Gigi. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just tired.”

“Gotcha. I feel you. Me and Ryan went hiking yesterday. Hiking isn’t fun hungover. It’s not very much fun to begin with, but especially not when you’re hungover, but I promised him I’d go.”

This was her chance. “I didn’t know you even had a boyfriend.”

“Yeah! We’ve been together since freshman year of high school. I guess I’m just not the type of person to gush about her boyfriend.”

“That’s so… sweet,” Gigi managed through gritted teeth.

“I really love him. This is so lame, but we won homecoming king and queen.”

“Awe, cute.” Gigi could hear her the insincerity dripping from her voice. Thankfully Crystal couldn’t.

“He’s really the best. I think you guys would get along really well.”

Yeah, right.

Gigi hesitated. “Why don’t you ever post pictures with him?” Because of the many nights spent stalking Crystal’s social media, if there was any mention of a boyfriend, she would have known.

“Honestly?” Crystal began. “He doesn’t really like to take pictures. He’s very anti-social media. Ryan is low key a conspiracy theorist. Almost every day he tells me to delete my social media because now North Korea has my information or something.”

“That’s so… interesting.”

What about you, do you have a boyfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Did you just not want one or…”

Gigi trusted Crystal, but didn’t trust her enough to tell her everything about her. Not yet. “I think that I’m afraid to let people in.”

“Really?”

She sighed. “Ever since my dad, I’ve had a hard time trusting anyone. Abandonment issues and shit.”

“I am so sorry.”

“I guess I just look at as what’s the point of dating if they’re just going to leave anyway?”

Crystal held her hand on top of Gigi’s and looked at her with a face full of sincerity. “I’ll never leave you.”

“Thank you,” Gigi managed in just above a whisper.

“You know too much about me. I like you, and really don’t want to have to kill you.”

—

Jackie was one to always be on time. However, she was not one to be an extra half an hour early. But, she knew that Jan was opening, and aimed to avoid the blonde at all costs. Unfortunately for Jackie, when opening her locker, she saw blonde hair and a purple backpack out of the corner of her eye. As much as she hoped she wouldn’t, Jan made her way over.

“Jackie, hi. Do you want to talk about… it?”

“I’d prefer to not if that’s okay,” Jackie said shoving her bag inside of her locker.

“Jackie, don’t shut me out. I know that it probably isn’t like you to do something like that, but it happened. It happened, and you can’t take it back. I know we haven’t known each other for that long, but I really value and respect you as a person. I don’t know why you freaked out, especially because kissed me first. I’ll give you space if you want space, but please. Talk to me when you’re ready.” She walked away without waiting for a response.

For the rest of the day, Jackie couldn’t focus. She was team lead that day, and almost forgot to send Nicky on her break. While in tower, all Jackie could think about was Jan. She had no idea why she couldn’t shake the blonde from her head. Even though she dated boys all through school, she never felt strongly toward any of them. She slept with her boyfriend in junior year, but broke up with him right after, because she felt nothing toward him. There was something different about Jan. Jackie felt things toward Jan that she thought she was supposed to feel to her boyfriends. The keyword being boyfriend. Being gay was out of the question for Jackie. Her entire life, both of her parents that being gay was immoral and disgusting, something Jackie never understood. It was up until she met Jaida her first summer at Paradise Isle before she even met a gay person. As Jackie looked at the monitors from tower, she tried to reassure herself that she definitely wasn’t gay, and that Jan was just pretty. Even if she knew it wasn’t true.

Finally, it was time for her break. Jackie looked around, making sure that Jan wasn’t also on her break. Thankfully, she was in the clear. Jaida was sitting at a table by herself eating a salad.

“Hey, girl,” Jaida said as Jackie sat across from her.

“Jaida. I have a problem.”

“Is that problem a pretty blonde girl named Jan?”

“How did you know?”

“What do you remember about the party?”

“I kissed Jan. Like. I initiated it, apparently. But it was just one kiss right?”

“Ooh, chile. No, you guys were making out. For a while. Everyone saw. You were grabbing her ass and everything.”

Jackie buried her head in her hands. “Oh, no.”

“Have you seen her today?“

“Yeah, this morning. She tried to talk to me, but I wouldn’t listen. She agreed to give me space… I can’t hold this off forever, Jaida.”

“No. You can’t. You know what y’all need?” Jaida questioned.

“What?”

“You know what.”

“I’m not taking Jan onto the Ferris wheel.”

Because Paradise Isle was mostly ran by people who were all around the same age, there were plenty of relationships, flings, and conflicts. When any problems arose, it was customary to go into the Ferris wheel to resolve any issues. The parties in question would ride until they either they resolved their issues, stormed off angrily, or ran away crying. It wasn’t something management allowed, but the supervisors knew how much conflict it resolved, so they let it slide. Jackie had never had to take any rides in the Ferris wheel. Jaida, however, took at least one a summer. Her second summer she took three.

“If you don’t take her, I’m going to shove your skinny Persian ass into that ride. I’ll drag Jan by the hair if I have to. You are going to talk this out. Okay?”

Jackie grumbled. “I guess.”

“Tell Jan to meet you at the Ferris wheel. The Genie closes early tonight for maintenance, right?”

Jackie nodded. Once a month, The Genie closed a half an hour early for maintenance, which made it the perfect night.

“Okay, perfect. Jan’s stocking tonight, so it’ll be easy for her to slip away.”

Jackie’s heart beat fast as she tried to come up with what to text Jan. She reread it twice and made Jaida read it, too before she sent it.

Hey. I’m really sorry. Can we talk? I’ll be at the Ferris wheel at close.

Jan responded almost immediately.

ill see you then

“How did she respond so fast?” Jackie questioned.

“Stockers do whatever they want. Anyway. My break’s over. Let me know how it goes.”

“Will do.”

—

Gigi couldn’t stop thinking about Crystal. It didn’t help that she was in the slowest store, at the slowest time of the night, all by herself. Nobody wanted to buy overpriced, blurry photos of themselves on rides. She debated calling Jan because she was bored, but decided against it, since Jan was going to be by soon to close the store.

“Hey, gorg,” Jan said as she made her way inside.

“Hey.”

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“’Hey.’” Jan mocked Gigi’s depressed tone as she started shutting down photo monitors.

“Promise you won’t tell?” Gigi felt like she was in middle school saying that sentence.

“Pinky promise.”

Gigi linked pinkies with Jan while emptying the register. “So me and Crystal got super close super quickly, I’m sure you saw.”

“Yeah, of course. She’s a sweetheart.”

“Yeah she is. Anyway. I started feeling…. Feelings toward her. Do you follow?” Jan nodded. “And honestly, I thought she felt the same way… She spent the night at my house after the party and literally cuddled with me.”

“Oh wow, really?”

“Yeah. So here I was, thinking that she felt the same way. Turns out I was completely wrong. Get this, she gets picked up from my house by her boyfriend.”

“Oof.”

“Oof, indeed.”

“Well,” Jan said. “Have you thought about telling her?”

“Absolutely not.” Gigi finished putting the rest of the money in the locked bag. The two girls headed out of the store.

“Why not?”

“What good is it going to do?”

Jan slammed the gate in front of the store shut as they left.

“Would it give you any sort of peace of mind?”

“I mean, maybe. But what if it ruins everything? It’s not like she’s gonna break up with him on the spot to date me. Why would–”

They were interrupted on their way to the money room by an older woman.

“I’m supposed to meet my family at The Landing. How do I get there?”

Jan smiled kindly. “Ma’am you’re on The Landing right now.”

“I am? Where’s my family?”

“Can’t help you with that ma’am, hope you find them!” Jan walked away before the woman could continue.

Gigi rolled her eyes at the woman. “Why would I risk the friendship? I’d rather have her in my life as my friend than not at all.”

They reached the money room, where they were greeted by Nina. After handing her the locked money bag, they made their way to Isle Mercantile’s stockroom to help close.

“At the end of the day, it’s up to you. I can’t tell you what to do. It’s not an easy situation, and it doesn’t have a clear answer. I’m sorry Gigi.” Jan hugged Gigi.

“Thanks, Jan.”

Jan. “Oh shit. I’m late.”

“Late for what?”

“Jackie wants to talk about… things.”

“Good luck.”

—

The rest of Jackie’s workday went by disgustingly slow. At least she spent the rest of her shift at Load 1, which meant that she ran back and forth checking lapbars, and then engaging her console. It kept her busy and kept her mind off of Jan, at least for a while.

Once her shift ended, Jackie changed into the clothes that she had in her bag, old jean shorts, and a t-shirt with her university’s logo, desperately wishing that she kept cuter spare clothes. Close to closing, all attractions on The Boardwalk had a short wait. When she got there, a slightly unusual girl named Yvie was operating the ride. Jackie didn’t know Yvie well, but remembered that the year prior, Yvie had to ride the wheel with a girl named Scarlet.

It was five minutes after close. All Jackie could do was think about what a big mistake she made until she saw Jan running full force down The Boardwalk. “I’m so sorry! I was mending a broken heart.”

“Good luck,” Yvie said as they went up.

Jackie and Jan didn’t say anything at first.

Finally, Jan broke the silence. “Do you regret it?”

“What?”

“Do you regret kissing me?”

Jackie sat, methodically constructing her answer. “No. No, I don’t.”

“Well why did you freak out then? I hope you know that you really fucking hurt me, Jackie.”

This made Jackie’s heart break. Knowing that she caused such a kind soul hurt killed her. “Jan, I am so, so sorry. That is the last thing I wanted to do. I just need you to know one thing.”

“What?”

“It had absolutely nothing to do with you… Honestly my entire life my parents told me being gay was bad, and I didn’t think I believed them, but maybe part of my subconscious did. Not that at all is an excuse for my behavior. The thought of liking a girl the way I was told I was supposed to like boys freaked me the fuck out.”

They reached the platform.

“Again?” Yvie asked.

Jackie nodded.

“Gotcha.”

“I never even considered the fact that I could be gay. And then I met you, and you’re so confident in who you are.”

“Confident in who I am? Jackie, I’ve never labelled my sexuality. I dated a couple boys in my time, but also hooked up with a girl on my soccer team. I just know that if I like someone, I like them. I don’t really think anything beyond that matters, not that I haven’t had late nights where I couldn’t stop thinking about how confused I was.”

Jackie was surprised. Jan seemed so sure of herself, so it was unusual to imagine her being unsure about anything. “Really? You seem so confident about literally everything.”

“Do you wanna know a secret? Most of it’s fake. My mom used to always tell me ‘fake it til you make it,’ and I guess it stuck.”

They reached the bottom again. Yvie looked at them and Jackie nodded.

“10-4.”

They started rising again.

Jackie exhaled. Her heart was pounding. It was now or never. “I’ve dated boys all throughout school. I slept with one of them. And honestly, Jan? I felt more when I kissed you the other night than I ever did when I was with any of them, and I was drunk… Jan, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the party. I think about how you light up every room you go into. I think about how pretty you are when you smile. I keep thinking about kissing you again.”

“Wow.”

“And I’m sorry if that’s strong, but I just need to tell let that off my chest and I understand if–”

Jan didn’t let Jackie finish. Instead, she grabbed her shirt and kissed her. If Jackie thought kissing Jan drunk was nice, kissing her sober was incredible. Their lips moved in perfect synchronization. Jackie was used to boys who led with the tongue. Instead, Jan’s kisses were gentle, yet powerful. Jackie unconsciously moved her hand through Jan’s soft hair. Eventually, Jan broke the kiss.

“Is that okay that I did that?”

Instead of answering, Jackie pulled her into another kiss. At this point, they reached the top.

“I really like you, Jan. I don’t really know how to process that information, but I know that I like kissing you.”

“I like kissing you, too. We can take it as slowly as you want. I want to see where this goes. I think we have something good here.”

“I think so, too.”

Jan rested her head on Jackie’s shoulder the rest of the way down.

Yvie looked in at them. “You guys good?”

Jan smiled. “Never better.”

#rpdr fanfiction #gigi goode #crystal methyd #jan sport #jackie cox #jaida essence hall #nicky doll #crygi #jankie #jaida x nicky #lesbian au #stupid for you #metaluna #s12 #submission

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