#fucking horrifying that it just pops up and random and i go oh god not again
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i once had someone ask me what my intrusive thoughts were and I'm gonna be honest patrick i am not telling you that
#sometimes venting lifts a weight off your back bit. no#speak iza#like of fucking course even if i understand someone understands snd wont judge me ill think about it forever#and itll be there and its gonna be the underlying fear to ruining my relationship with other people#vent tw#not mad at them btw. this is irl too not online#because i love him hes my best friend and i have not spoken to him since august#not bc of this but because i just dont message for a week and suddenly its drifted apart#hm#but yea its not gonna kill me or anything if i take it to the grave cuz its literally so#fucking horrifying that it just pops up and random and i go oh god not again#its not even something i joke about.
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You don’t have to write this if you don’t want to, but there’s an idea that has been on my mind lately and I just need to get it out there and share it with someone. Lately I’ve been thinking about a whumpee sitting in the passenger seat of caretaker’s car, being driven home after caretaker picked them up from the bar. Under the influence of alcohol, whumpee starts casually rambling about the fucked up shit that whumper did to them, all of which caretaker was completely unaware of. Whumpee wasn’t normally the type to open up to them. Caretaker is horrified, while whumpee is too drunk to even notice caretaker’s stunned reaction.
CW: References to domestic violence, drug use, derogatory self-talk, Kauri being a Drunk Mess. Takes place early after Kauri starts coming to the safehouse.
"I said, 'Oh my God, look at that face,'" Kauri sings, voice husky and cracking, boneless against the passenger seat. "You look like my next mistake-"
"Annnnnnd we're not listening to this," Jake interrupts, leaning forward to switch from the random dance-pop playlist to his own personal one. Kauri's glimmering smile fades into an overwrought pout in response.
"Boo. You have the worst taste in music."
"I do not. I just don't want to listen to you drunk-sing Taylor Swift, that's all. Not again. Last time you cried."
"Excuse me, Jakob Stanton, that was a private performance and you should be glad I didn't make you pay for the concert of the century." Kauri kicks his dirty Vans up on Jake's clean dash, crossing his legs at the ankles. He drops his right hand down to pull the little lever on the side of his seat, the back falling backwards until he's nearly lying down. "Not my fault I get carried away with emotions."
"Ever tried not doing that?"
"Yeah." Kauri smiles again. Jake pretends not to glance sidelong to watch his eyes move, like he can see the stars right through the roof of Jake's car. There's a hickey on Kauri's neck, bruising in the shape of teeth and tongue. Might be lipstick smudged on an earlobe. Kauri's own mouth seems too red in the dark, yellowed under the occasional streetlight.
It isn't the answer Jake expects. "What?"
"Course I tried. You think I let this pretty face be ruined by all those ugly tears before? It's in my training, you know. No tears unless he wants them, no screams he doesn't demand, nothing left that he didn't pay for. He wants a gorgeous face, not some asshole who feels things and has opinions."
Jake falls quiet. His music seems incongruous now, clashing with Kauri's soft voice. He takes a turn, driving out of downtown where he'd found Kauri giggling outside yet another bar, dancing with a group of people who looked just as wounded as he does.
He isn't as good as Kauri is at knowing, but he thought at least two of them probably had barcodes hidden underneath jewelry and long sleeves, too.
Romantics run away often, it's in Jake's literature. But they struggle once they're out. They don't know how to make a living. They tend to shoplift because no one showed them how to pay, they can't get a job anyway even when they know what to do. They get treated like shit and taken advantage of... and they go back. They're bad at hiding, at blending in. They get caught, or they go back.
"There's a lot in you that nobody made but you." Jake wishes he was better at this. He's still kind of new at it, and Kauri hasn't been coming around that long. He still has some bandages under his shirt, covering the fresh scar on his collarbone.
"Therein, Jakob, lies the problem." Kauri intones the sentence like a professor delivering a lecture. "Mr. Owen hated all those parts, because none of them were in the person I was supposed to be."
Jake tries not to grind his teeth too obviously. Mr. Owen. Fucking asshole.
"I tried not to feel things that I wasn't supposed to. I was great it, too, for a while. Even better at lying once the feelings showed up anyway. But that wasn't enough, because it was a lie and we both knew it. Love is just lying, for us. To ourselves. To the owners. To everyone. We don't really mean it. We don't know how."
Jake licks at his lips. They sit at a stoplight, and he wishes he'd told Nat to get Kauri instead. Or had told Kauri no, figure it out, it's late and Jake doesn't want to be doing this.
But Kauri called, and he came.
It's a bad habit he can't let himself get into, or he'll be who Kauri always calls on nights like this.
He hopes so, anyway.
"We lie." Kauri's voice is a haze, fog rolling in off the bay. Kauri sounds the way someone looks when they're far enough away that every edge has softened. "We manipulate, we steal, we plead and flatter and fuck like rabbits. And there's absolutely nothing underneath."
"Kaur, you know that isn't true-"
"Every time there was," Kauri continues, as if Jake hadn't spoken, "He hurt me, and then he put me back in my box."
The light finally turns green, and Jake presses down on the gas. "Your box?"
"My delivery box. He kept it, set it up against the wall. When I couldn't be empty enough for him, when he remembered it was all just the two of us lying to each other, he would put me back in it. In the dark... all by myself." Kauri blinks rapidly, and Jake sees streetlight gleam, dim and yellow, off the tears escaping the corner of his eye to soak saltwater into his hair, just above his ear. "Can't feel anything. Can't see anything. Can't hear anything. He'd leave me for hours. One time for-... for over a day. Once he even moved it around like he was sending me b-back."
"Holy fuck."
Jake thinks about that.
He thinks about the way Kauri flinches away from small spaces, sleeps outside because the doors don't lock when there aren't any.
"Jesus," He whispers.
Kauri doesn't seem to notice.
"I just got so tired of pretending I didn't feel it when he hit me," Kauri says, holding his hands up, looking at his own palms. The leather bracelet that hides his barcode looks like handcuffs at this angle, in what passes for light at midnight under nothing but tree canopies lining residential streets. "I couldn't keep it up and he couldn't keep remembering I'm not ever going to suddenly become Vincent fucking Shield, even if he killed me. And... and he was gonna kill me sooner or later, right? After the choking started, the..." He touches his collarbone over his shirt. "He was going to, soon. And nobody would care."
Jake swallows, hard. "That's not-"
"I almost didn't even care anymore, either."
There's no way to respond to that.
He just listens.
"I got so tired of being empty. I couldn't lie to him any longer. Couldn't keep lying to me, either. I'm a failure, a broken pet. I wanted to tell the truth. Just the one time, I wanted to tell the truth without being put in the box, Jake. I wanted to say that I could hate him more than I loved him. I wanted to get to hate him at all. But there's... there's a problem with that."
"Is there?"
What the fuck else can he say?
"Yeah." Kauri digs a hand into his pocket. He swallows something before Jake can stop him. Maybe it's just Tylenol to hold off the hangover. Maybe. Probably not. Kauri'd smile swims, uneasy and seeming oddly seasick. "The problem... is that the truth isn't what I want it to be."
"Kauri-"
"I am empty, Jake. I got away from him and there isn't anything in here. They're right. I'm not even a person. Just a face and a cock. Just the cold and the walls and... and the box."
"That's not true-"
"It's okay." Kauri, absurdly, lays a hand on his arm to soothe him. "It's okay. I don't even mean it. I'm just rambling, Jake. None of it means anything. I am so drunk, just ignore me, yeah? Just talking shit, that's all." He suddenly smiles, bright as any star, and jerks his seat back upright. "Hey, can we go to Burger King? I want some fries."
The sudden swerve of mood feels like driving right off a cliff but finding yourself suddenly flying a plane.
"What? It's twelve-thirty in the morning-"
"Drive-thru is open til one. Come on, Jake, please?" Kauri's eyes are absurdly wide, too blue.
Jake groans. "Yeah, fine."
Kauri claps his hands together with glee, half-lunging to grab Jake's mp3 player. "You're my favorite person on earth, Jake. Now, where is the list with the pretty orangey looking background color..."
Kauri keeps his eyes carefully unfocused so he won't read the letters. The guitar starts up for the first song in the list, and Kauri grins. Whatever he swallowed is already starting to work on him, pupils wide, wiping out so much of the gorgeous blue.
This time, Jake doesn't stop him from singing along.
-
@finder-of-rings @endless-whump @arlin-always-writing @thefancydoughnut @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @autophagay @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things
#whump#kauri's poor life choices#writing#bbu#box boy universe#box boy#trauma recovery tw#recovering whumpee#runaway whumpee#escaped whumpee#caretaker and whumpee#erase to control#jake the shelter guy#drug use tw#alcohol tw#drunk whumpee
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One Last Stop Starters !
Taken from the 2021 novel by Casey McQuinston, One Last Stop Some of these have already been edited. You can change them however you see fit!
“(Name), stop telling people about frog ghosts.”
“They’re on (Name)‘s sleep schedule, though. So, a ghost in the night.”
“It gave us nine great years. And carpet can hide a multitude of sins.”
“If they’re gonna kill you, get their DNA under your fingernails.”
“That little twink contains multitudes.”
“They love me as much as they love anyone else.”
“You like jokes. I don’t.”
“Do you realize you just say words in any random order like they’re supposed to mean something?”
“I can’t decide if I’m impressed or horrified?”
“Definitely brought me back from the dead more than once, so, thank you.”
“Really out here smashing pussy, (Name).”
“We get about a hundred hot lesbians through here a week. You’ll find another one.”
“Sorry, like, it’s your life and all, but do you not hear how badass that sounds?”
“That sucks. I’m your mom now. The rules are, no Tarantino movies and bedtime is never.”
“You’re a bullshitter.”
“Because you have, like, the energy of someone who knows things.”
“A frontal lobotomy to forget the night I had?”
“Never thought I’d see a vampire I didn’t want to fuck.”
“We’ve kissed, like, three times, but they have that thing where they’re terrified of being loved and refuses to believe they’ve deserved it. It’s so tedious.”
“Does it ever, like… I don’t know. Make you lonely? To love somebody who can’t meet you there?”
“I hadn’t pegged you for a scammer.”
“I’m mysterious by nature, (Name).”
“Jesus. What did ya’ll do this time?”
“Hey, what’s up with you? Who hurt your feelings?”
“Who do we have to frame for murder?”
“A gift from (Name)? What god have I pleased?”
“Oh, I’m loving this already. What kind of creatures?”
“Cute. Maybe a poltergeist. A cute poltergeist. Can I meet them?”
“So, you’ve gathered us here to tell us you’re boned up for a ghost.”
“What? Pick the lock? What kind of feral child are you? Are you Jessica Jones?”
“You know, I thought you were a little spicy when I met you.”
“I swear to God, if a ghost kills me, I’ll haunt the shower.”
“Your friend is weird.”
“I told you, I think, I’m. Something’s wrong with me.”
“Honestly? The day I met you.”
“Yeah, guess I don’t have the whole magical soulmate bond you have with them.”
“(Name). Can we maybe not treat them like a creature of the week?”
“Like you’re their Pop-Tart angel. Like you shit sunshine. Like you invented love as a concept.”
“I think I should kiss you.”
“I’m repressing it! Let me repress it!”
“You’re so mean to me.”
“So many questions for someone who does not come to work.”
“Yeah, exactly. Forever. As in, it’s the only thing I know how to do.”
“I know logistically how to perform some tasks.“
“Go where? I’m trying to have a nervous breakdown here.”
“Can you turn that brain of yours off for a second and trust?”
“It makes me feel like I’m going to die!”
“You trusted me, right? Now trust yourself.”
“Big dick energy is gender neutral.”
“I mean, it’s as if you like to be emotionally tortured.”
“God, you are the most useless bisexual I’ve ever met in my entire goddam life.”
“I’d disappoint them. They don’t deserve to be disappointed.”
“Loving the sacrilege.”
“Wow, holy shit, you figured it out. You’re gonna win a Peabody Award for reporting.”
“As fun as it is to break your brain, no one at work knows. Tell them and I break your arm.”
“Is your family horny for Jesus too?”
“I’m not cute. I’m-I’m tough. Like a cactus.”
“Where does that disembodied voice keep coming from?”
“They’re always wearing the exact same thing. That’s ghost behavior if you ask me.”
“And I left them. That’s… Fuck. I forgot how that felt. I left them.”
“Yes, thank you. I invite you to eat a dick. Goodbye.”
“Maybe no good timing means there’s no bad timing either.”
“You’re a normal person. Under un-normal circumstances.”
“That’s new for you, huh? Being able to get drunk?”
“Is this a date? Am I on a date right now?”
“(Name). Any way you want to kiss me is the way I wanna be kissed, okay?”
“You’re like—like a fucking painting or something stupid like that, what the fuck. You just walk around like this all the time.”
“Sorry, was I skulking? Sometimes I skulk without realizing.”
“Okay, still, let me be a mom for a second.”
“(Name), we’re adults, just say you got your back blown out.”
“I guess criminal behavior isn’t as much of a turn-on for me.”
“Never go to a second location with someone unless you’ve checked their trunk for weapons first.”
“Let go of me. I deserve to be free.”
“They’re not gonna leave us if they get married, (Name).”
“How did this become a roast of me? (Name) is the one under the table.”
“I’m wearing a shirt and no pants. I’m Winnie the Pooh-ing it.”
“What do you mean? Why would they leave me something? I’m the shameful family secret.”
“No. I hit him. The lip is from when someone else pulled me off of him.”
“It’s like I died. I died, except I have to feel it. And on top of that, I have to feel everything else I’ve ever felt all over again. I have to get the bad news again every day, I have to deal with the choices I made, and I can’t fix it. I can’t even run from it. It’s miserable.”
“No, you didn’t. But you made me realize it. You made me remember. And maybe that’s worse.”
“Just because you can’t run doesn’t mean you can make me do it for you.”
“Uh-huh, and this wouldn’t have anything to do with the way you reflexively ice out anyone who even appears to have rejected or wronged you?”
“Oh, so they… they thought I just left without saying goodbye?”
“It’s not a heist. It’s… an elaborate, planned crime.”
“Okay…hmm… oh, I’ve made friends with a subway rat.”
“Judge all you want, but I’m the only one who will be spared in the inevitable Great Rat Uprising.”
“No, it’s cute! You’re such a nerd. It’s endearing!”
“What can I say? I’m the one that got away.”
“I have to say, I’m impressed. This is definitely the most organized crime I’ve ever been involved in.”
“Sometimes the point is to be sad, (Name). Sometimes you just have to feel it because it deserves to be felt.”
“For what it’s worth, you’ve never disappointed me once since I’ve met you.”
“Is there anything else you want, before tomorrow?”
“I just did it because I thought you were hot.”
“I was really lonely before I met you.”
“I like when you’re in crime boss mode.”
“They have to kill him. It’s the only way.”
“I can think later. Right now I just want to be here, okay?”
“I’m here. I’m not leaving.”
“You’re the most important person I’ve ever met. And I never should have met you at all.”
#rp meme#roleplay meme#sentence starters#sentence meme#starter sentences#ask prompts#ask meme#inbox memes#inbox prompts#novel sentence starters#my eyes are so tired from reading all day Jesus#gotta admit that it took me like 100 or so pages to get into this book & then i was in it for the long haul
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Bottom of the barrel isekai review!
hey
hey
hey buddy
if you think im going to spell that, you can go Fuck yourself.
hey sweet peas, it's time to indulge in my favorite self masochistic pass time of reading horrid isekais and then explaining why they are bad to you.
anyways we have (read above). What's it about? let's present ourselves onto the steps of christ and ready some self flagellation devices~!
meet our wannabe hero Kurei yuugo, they are a god damn sentai nerd who dreams of being a boot licking fucking pig or a fire fighter in their never ending quest to be the hero they admire ever so dearly. he goes out and buys himself a brand new power ranger figure when some dude pops out with a knife and decides today is the day to snap. he tries to snap but with the dreams of every boot not yet licked kurai jumps to action, beating the shit out of this guy! only to realize he has been shanked with a one way express ticket to isekai land!
oh fuck, did i say his name was kurai? it's actually yuugo clay now and he wakes up about to get shanked again by some random blonde twink that is stealing his apparent girlfriend. That's right folks, your favorite kaman rider nerd reincarnated into an otome game right at the annulment event!
This world is a game luminous history, a dating game with a rpg magic system, how do we know this? Because Aryan wet dream with a sword that we saw sticking up yuugo is also not a native here, he popped into this world with a slightly better spawn spot as one of the game's romanceable targets. we also get to know that their are multiple chuckle fucks out there. anyways his plan is just to have a harem so please remember to have a foam hand out whenever something bad happens to him.
anyways that's not the meat and potatoes of this, we haven't even gotten to the god damn Gimmick of this series! Yuugos gets disinherited because Yuugo is a bitch prior to getting soul snatched and has to be homeless. his younger brother phil helps him out and gives him a apparent weak magic item, a bracelet that can transform into a full set of armor that looks suspiciously like a kaman rider suit, which is great because some random asshole decides to spawn kill the moment school starts, forcing him into a duel by... vaguely threatening his new lil brother, i'll be real, they aren't exactly clear what they are going to do to him but its props physical harm.
turns out the rider suit is pretty strong for him as he one shots random asshole, earning yuugo his first duel!
anyways, this makes blonde twink go fucking insane because now the script is off, but again asserts that its all gucchi and he is still going to have a bunch of girlfriends because in a world of endless magic the one constent is someone is looking to get their dick wet. fuck learning how to be a fucking wizard i guess, or looking for bad ass magic sword, Dick must have its moisture level elevated. Damn.
oh, also, yuugo is still homeless, that never stops being a thing. I'm going to stop regenerating the plot and actually start talking about its themes and such.
Again we are met with the idea that someone is taking over for someone. the implications of which are somewhat horrifying if we choose to dwell on it but we got school politics to deal with so we don't. The main character is mostly a blank slate uploaded with the bog standard lawful good personality of your average shounen protagonist. A welcome change of pace even though it creates a somewhat boring lead whose main point of attraction is “they did/said something nice to me and now i'm going to be their super bestie fore-ever and root for them.” which we see with the characters brother and the first introduced female love interest melt.
But we do see another plot theme erupt in the main antagonist within the story. That being engaging with the world in earnest vs attempting to interact with the world with prior knowledge in effort to enrich yourself through that knowledge. Yuugo does not care that he is in another world, he already died a hero's death so at this point he is just playing a new game plus. The antagonist on the other hand was a Hardcore gamer, the horror, who had memorized the routes throughout the game and was meticulously taking actions in order to take over as the protagonist and rich the “poly for me but not for thee” ending.
To me this makes the thesis of the manga that you should really not be like the antagonist. I know, truly bold readings here at the bottom of the barral, I'll take my reward for it later.
Ok ok but what makes it bad? It's because isekai is an inherent colonizer trope. You, the one from the enlightened land, come to some fantasy world, notably behind in technology and become its god. You are perfect at everything, you are able to emasculate the lands men and make the lands women soon with every wayward cape swish. Of course yuugo is still participating in it but to a lesser extent. They understand that this is a fantasy world but they are coming at it from someone who wants to earnestly learn about the world and participate within it as the native populace would. The antagonist has no interest in that and wants to exploit what they know of it as much as possible to reach their desired end point.
I will admit that i'm reading a lot of this manga that may not be there. To be clear, the point of this manga is that a jock kaman rider fan beats up a bunch of shitty nerds while in cool armor. That's the if and and but of it all and there is not much that can change that. Though i do think it's interesting that even if by accident the author created a really interesting point about something inherent within the genre that they write in.
Do you have to worry about copious sex stuff?
The main antagonist keeps yapping about wanting a harem and there are some lucky pervert moments with melt but that's about it.
Is the author heavily invested in the use of troupes to aid the story?
Kinda
Is it worth reading?
Again, Kinda. If you like kaman rider stuff, this is like a dinner mint, fine but if you got it at a restaurant alone you would want to kill someone.
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Snowy hellscape? Snowy hellscape.
We are not dressed warmly enough for this. Good thing we got all that cold weather practice back at Zenith Academy. Nobody talks about it but the sky is very cold all the time. It's a miserable place to live.
We aren't burning the books yet, but we've been here five minutes and I already hate this place.
Oh my god, they have ice DJs. I take it back. This place is amazing. I renounce all other places. What do you even call a--
Rude.
Now I can cross "used ice to ward away the cold" off my list of life experiences that I never wanted to have in the first fucking place.
Still aren't burning the books but I am this close.
No. Absolutely not. I am too cold and pissy right now to deal with you jackfucks.
So help me, I will skin you for warmth.
...honestly, that was barely even a fight. We've had random encounters with more punch than you two. Zale and I only had to pop a single Mending Light.
When you see One and Three, tell them I said, "Hey, at least you're not these clowns. Silver medal's better than bronze."
Alright, it's real enough. Archivist's books are safe from my wrath.
I am going to be the greatest menace to sleep schedules in history. Hmm, what kind of lighting would I like for our journey today?
Maybe we can use this to fulfill our prophecies properly, since we're apparently too shitty to do it ourselves. To be fair, using tool assistance to compensate for our shortcomings is what makes us human.
Hmm... if we can control the day/night cycle freely now, can we use this to fabricate an eclipse when needed? I was thinking about that before with the time rune things but now we don't even need the runes.
Son of a bitch! If you'd told us that from the beginning, we could have just turned around, gone straight to the Fleshmancer's castle, and died horribly.
Well played, old man.
Well, credit where it's due; The compensation for this one was pretty cool. So why not. Maybe we can make a deal.
Yeah, I saw him when I was faffing about earlier. Is there more to him or is he just a head?
Are you the guy that Garl's supposed to demand a Flask of Borrowed Time from? Because this sounds pretty Flask of Borrowed Time adjacent.
Don't forget about that, Garl. My prophecies and Zale's have been trash, but you get the best prophecies.
Wait, you can do that? Could you just. Like. Reverse time to the night of the Eclipse and then we jump in and stop Erlina and Brugaves before they know what hit 'em?
If you can control time then our best option for dealing with Mesa Island is to prevent the Dweller of Strife from ever waking up to begin with.
XD
"I have no idea where Aephorul put my artifact but he's a predictable little shit so it's going to be there."
Well. Shit. I have a feeling we're about to find out if we can fabricate eclipses or not.
I guess we really wouldn't have been done once the Dweller of Woe was dead. Strange. If a Dweller's here, I wonder why it's not. Like. Doing anything.
I'm feeling a lot better about our chances against the Dweller of Strife than I was five minutes ago.
Here are your books back. I'm sorry I threatened to burn them.
It's called Torment Peak because the Dweller of fucking Torment lives there. Nobody knows there's a Dweller there because the place fucks with your head so bad that the Docarri, having set up shop on the island, discourage people from visiting.
There could be hidden Dwellers anyplace where common knowledge says we don't go there ever.
Okay, point to Erlina and Bugraves. We actually wouldn't have been finished after the Dweller of Woe was killed.
But also five points deducted because. What. People are just supposed to live like this? What the Dweller of Woe was doing to that island isn't any less unfathomably horrifying just because more Dwellers exist. If anything it's moreso. How long until the Dweller of Torment beefs up enough to do the same shit to the Docarri?
Oh, yes please. I could chug some "Fuck Outta My Head" Juice. We had a bad experience with exactly this kinda shit on Wraith Island and I don't want that ever happening again.
#sea of stars#drake plays sea of stars#glacial peak is very cold#but hosts a surprisingly rich culture all the same
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oooo!!! and!!! one jeon jungkook + bdsm(?) like tying up(?) cuffs(?) restrictive measures??? idk what its called
i don't know what came over me but this is way longer than intended (1.3k). tbf, i was picturing jungkook with those damn pink handcuffs. thanks for requesting rosie!! hope you enjoyed it <3
warnings: dom/sub themes, oral (f. receiving), bondage (handcuffs), aftercare, some sweet, sweet tooth rotting fluff.
══════ ∘◦❀◦∘ ══════
“Hello? Earth to ____?” Jungkook groans, snapping his finger in front of your face to get your attention. “What’s going on in that head of yours, princess?”
“Handcuffs,” you blurt out without thinking, body still buzzing after your earlier orgasm. Your eyes widen in surprise, horrified that you just said that out loud. Snapping your eyes at Jungkook, you find his eyebrows knit on the centre of his forehead, blinking rapidly at you in equal confusion. He tilts his chin, tongue darting out to wet his lips before sauntering back into the room to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Handcuffs,” he parrots, raising his pierced eyebrow to the sky and you gulp when you see a shadow pass over his face, turning his eyes darker. “It’s 10 in the goddamn morning and you’re thinking of handcuffs.”
Your mind makes random error noises and you swear you could see a pop up window next to his figure with the words, “Do you wish the ground to swallow you whole?” and no matter how hard you click the “Yes” button, nothing happens.
“Yes… wait – no! I wasn’t thinking – I mean,” you stutter, the heat in the room is palpable as you feel your hands sweat.
Jungkook grins, dimples flashing your way and with a confidence you didn’t know he had, he winks, voice an octave lower when he murmurs, “I can have that arranged.”
---
You’re giddy when you arrive at his apartment later in the week, butterflies threatening to spill all over the linoleum floor as you try not to skip as you enter the elevator. It feels like it’s been forever since you’re able to come over and the fact that you finally have the weekend off from work, you’re ready to have mindblowing sex with the man that lives in room 422.
“Come in,” he greets you cheerily, offering you a glass of water and a kiss on the cheek upon entry. It’s a habit that you two have developed over your countless… arrangements and one you appreciate greatly, knowing that it’s all for your own safety.
The first thing you spy after taking off your shoes is a box on the coffee table, discreetly black with a silver bow on the lid. “What’s that?” you ask, sipping from the cup as you turn towards Jungkook with a tilt of your chin.
“Consider it an early Christmas present.”
“Jungkook.”
“Hm?”
“It’s fucking August.”
“Like I said, early Christmas present,” he snickers, hands coming to wrap around your waist. Jungkook sways as he hums, waiting for you to finish your drink before taking the empty cup from your hand.
“Can I open it?”
“Please – feel free. It’s for you.”
Your attempt to walk like a dignified woman falters just a little at his words. Sure, he’s spoiled you with little gifts here and there, but it still gives you that thrill of happiness that warms your chest. Giggling quietly to yourself, you sit on the couch and bring the box to your lap. You lift up the lid to find black tissue paper… and a pair of pink heart handcuffs resting on top of them.
Huh?
“Are you sure these are for me?” you call out, eyes still focused on the toy.
You hear him laugh from behind you, his warm hand sliding down your back as he sits on the arm of the couch. “Don’t you remember?” he whispers, kissing the top of your head. “You told me you were thinking about handcuffs.”
Your eyebrows knit on the centre of your forehead, nose scrunching up as you try to remem—oh god. The memories come crashing back and you groan in embarrassment, putting your head in your hands. That morning, after Jungkook wakes you up with the best orgasm of your life, you were so dazed that your mind hadn’t fully processed his question. You still weren’t sure why you uttered ‘handcuffs’, but you’d be lying if the toy in the box didn’t make you feel some type of way, mostly damp between your thighs.
Gingerly, you pick up the pink cuffs in your hands. It’s weighty and cool to the touch, and not at all plastic like you had originally imagined. Taking a chance to stare at Jungkook, you can see the glimmer of hope in his eyes as he waits for you to say something.
“Ready to try those out?” Jungkook murmurs, eyes traveling all over your face to gauge your reaction. You swallow thickly, not trusting your voice to say a damn word, but you nod, smiling encouragingly up at him. Jungkook offers you his hand and when you take it, he pulls you into a kiss before stumbling your way into his bedroom, the grip of metal in your hand tightening.
---
Jungkook has you naked in record breaking speed and when the click of metal sounds in your ears, heat floods through your body, as you try to wiggle free to no avail. Your hands are chained above you to the bed post, giving him plenty of access to do whatever he pleases.
He tongue travels south until it meets your heat, nipping at your thighs to keep your legs open before he buries his face in your pussy. The moan that he pulls from you doesn’t sound real, and with every drag of his tongue against your clit, you’re left shaking, legs threatening to crush his head if it weren’t for his strong grip.
“You look pretty spread out to me like this,” he murmurs as his thumbs part your folds. “How are your wrists, beautiful?”
“F-Fine,” you whine, grinding your hips into the air in hopes to steal his attention back to your needy cunt.
It works and you sigh in relief when he reverts his focus back on your clit, two fingers plunging deep into your cunt as he begins to thrust slowly into you. The handcuffs keep you in place, the metal digging in almost painfully with every thrash of your body. You try to be as still as possible, but it’s quite hard when Jungkook is making your body sing with pleasure.
“Cum for me?” he asks, voice dipped in sin as he nips your thighs before returning to take long drags of your cunt with the flat of his tongue. Jungkook grazes your clit with his teeth, slipping a finger in your walls that has you seeing stars.
“Yeah, fuck, gonna cum soon—” you groan, throwing your head back onto the pillow. As he thrusts harder into your dripping cunt, your voice crescendos, moaning his name repeatedly as your body hums with electricity, toes curling with every drag against your walls.
“Jungkook!”
“That’s it, cum for me, angel.”
It’s his gruff voice that sends you over the edge, the metal around your wrists clanking loudly against the bedpost while your muscles spasm, the orgasm spreading through you like fire. Jungkook helps you through it; thrusting languidly before eventually slipping away and unlocking your confines. He massages your wrists, sliding on the bed next to you while he peppers your face with kisses.
“Are you okay? Talk to me.”
You nod, eyes unfocused as you stare at him. “I’m okay,” you manage, nuzzling into his warmth.
Jungkook whispers more praises into your ears, all the while cradling you in his arms. As you regain your breathing and consciousness, you look up, a lazy smirk dancing on your lips. “Wanna do it again?” you laugh and Jungkook can’t do anything else but smile and oblige your request.
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Trashy Romance Novel
“Naruto, you frigging idiot,” Iruka began hotly, barging into the hospital room, “of all the stupid, brainless things you could have done, this is by far the-”
He stopped.
The person lying in the small bed was definitely not Naruto. It was a grown-ass man with messy gray hair and a faded scar over one eye, the sterile white sheets pulled up over his nose, apparently sound asleep. Iruka stared at him for a long moment, dumbfounded, before it clicked.
Oh shit, he thought. This is the wrong room. I'm in the wrong room. I need to hurry up and leave before-
The stranger's eyes cracked open and he squinted up at Iruka in confusion.
“...Who're you?” he croaked out. Iruka managed a rather articulate gurgle of dismay, frozen in sheer mortification. He considered the distance between him and the IV drip, wondering if he could dose the man back to unconsciousness before he could scream or buzz for a nurse. “Are those for me?” the man asked, sitting up in bed to regard the bouquet of flowers in Iruka's arms. He opened his mouth to disagree, but then the sheet slipped off the man's face, and Iruka suddenly thought giving him the flowers might not be such a bad idea. He definitely deserved a thank you after gifting him with...that. He didn't even protest as the alarmingly handsome stranger reached out and took the bundle of flowers, opening the card on top.
“You're a dumbass. Love, Iruka.” he read aloud, then looked up at Iruka, batting his eyes. “Aww, babe, you shouldn't have.”
“Whoa whoa WHOA!” Iruka finally blurted out, his face burning half from embarrassment at the situation, half from the thinly-veiled flirting. “I'm sorry, sir, there's been a mistake. I'm in the wrong room and-”
“You mean you aren't my doting husband I tragically forgot about due to amnesia and now you have to win back my love by passionately recreating the story of our romantic union?”
“Excuse me, WHAT-”
“Sorry, I've been reading trashy romance novels. They're the only books this hospital has. Can't blame me for trying.” The man shrugged, then reluctantly handed back the bouquet. “Who's the lucky person they're actually for? Must be someone real special if you're calling them a dumbass to their face.”
“My kid brother,” Iruka explained with a sigh. “He's here with a head injury.”
“Ouch.” The man winced in sympathy. “Poor kid.”
“Not really. He head-butted a brick wall.”
“...May I ask why?”
“Because his stupid boyfriend walked into it and he had to, and I quote, 'defend his honor'.” Iruka paused, looking the man up and down. Despite being a bit on the pale side, he looked perfectly fine, pun very much intended. It was almost unfair how well he pulled off the hospital gown (although Iruka would much rather be the one pulling it off, wink wink, nudge nudge). “So...what're you in for?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Was...was it the crappy romance novels? Did they rot your brain?”
�� “I have an extremely rare, aggressive form of cancer with only two weeks left to live and the only cure is a kiss from my one true love...” The man swooned back onto the pillow and looked expectantly up at Iruka, who rolled his eyes.
“Yeah they definitely did-”
“Alright you got me. Broke my leg.” He pulled the sheet off his lower half, revealing his legs, one of which was wrapped in a cast, propped up on some pillows. Several encouraging words from friends were scrawled on the white surface in marker, one of them a jarring green highlighter. It almost hurt Iruka's eyes to look at it.
“...How did you break it?” he asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
“I heroically threw myself in front of a speeding car in order to save the life of my beloved-”
“Okay how did you really break it?”
“Tripped chasing after my pug at the park,” the man admitted with a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
“...Is the dog okay?” Iruka asked after a long pause.
The stranger burst out laughing. It was a nice laugh, warm and contagious enough to elicit a chuckle out of Iruka, who was growing more and more intrigued. He couldn't deny the spark of attraction he felt for the other man, spontaneous as it was, and it seemed to be reciprocated. He didn't even know his name, but something about the man made Iruka want to know more about him. Maybe this was like some trashy romance novel, where the two would-be lovers met under unusual circumstances and fell instantly in-
“Hey, Kakashi,” a man with short brown hair said, suddenly walking into the room, “I brought the next three volumes of your shitty porn series from the hospital library and a couple pairs of clean underwear, so you can stop fucking texting me the specific style and brand you want from home, you're so damn picky-” He stopped dead as he caught sight of Iruka, pausing for a beat, then glanced at the man in the bed, his eyes darting nervously between the two. “Umm...am I...interrupting something?”
A cold pit of ice yawned open in Iruka's stomach.
Oh my GOD. Here he was, borderline flirting with some stranger in a random hospital room, when obviously the man already had a boyfriend and Iruka was just making a complete ass of himself. The flirting had probably been misinterpretation on his part anyway, and if not, the guy was a total dick. Either way, enough was enough. His face aflame with rage and shame, Iruka spun towards the door.
“I need to go.”
“Hey, wait!” Kakashi or whatever his name was called after him.
Iruka was already out the door, ignoring the man's cries. Screw him, and screw Naruto, too. He was the cause of this whole mess. Iruka would just text him later. He was probably making out with Sasuke anyway and wouldn't even notice his brother hadn't popped in to visit. Iruka needed out of this hospital NOW. He turned towards the stairs, immediately got lost, and spent the next five minutes growing increasingly flustered as he stormed through the winding hallways, desperately searching for the exit. Why the fuck was the hospital so damn BIG-
“Hey! Iruka! Hold up!”
Iruka spun around to see Kakashi speeding towards him in a wheelchair, his boyfriend dutifully pushing him down the hallway at a dead run, IV dangling after him on its cord like a faithful dog. The wheelchair stopped with an audible squeal in front of him.
“What- where did- did you steal that?!” Iruka hissed in outrage.
“Of course not, don't be silly,” Kakashi protested, sounding offended. “The guy it belongs to was asleep in his bed. I'm just borrowing it. I'll return it later. Anyway, Iruka-”
“Were you flirting with me in there?” Iruka demanded, cutting him off. “Be honest.”
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Kakashi said without an ounce of remorse. “So can I have your number or what?” Iruka bristled.
“You're a piece of shit! I can't believe you, hitting on me like this right in front of your boyfriend! You have some nerve-”
“Wait...boyfriend?” Kakashi cocked his head in confusion. “You mean Yams?”
“The fuck do YAMS have to do with anything-”
“Hi, that's me,” the short-haired man said, raising a hand. “Yamato, actually. 'Yams' to my friends. Which is what we are. Just...friends.” Iruka scowled at him suspiciously.
“Friends? Don't fuck with me. You brought him underwear-”
“Really close friends,” Yamato reiterated. “Also, roommates. It's awful. I can't get away from him.” Iruka studied him for a moment, but couldn't spot any hint of deception. The man's almond-shaped eyes were surprisingly honest.
“So you two...aren't dating?” he asked hesitantly. Yamato gave him a horrified look.
“Dear God, NO. Kakashi is the WORST. He's lazy as hell, procrastinates til the last minute, is perpetually late to everything-”
“You are a shit wingman-” Kakashi began.
“He needs to know what he's getting into,” Yamato snapped at him, then turned back to Iruka. “Seriously, though. You should run while you still can. There's hope for you.”
“Don't listen to him,” Kakashi cut in. “I'm a fucking catch. Which is exactly why you should let your flaxen hair down, rip your shirt open to reveal your heaving bosom, and throw yourself into my arms-”
“Will you cut that out?!” Iruka burst out impatiently. “Life is not a trashy romance novel.”
“You sure about that?” Kakashi said, quirking an eyebrow. “Because I met you in a hospital through total coincidence. After really hitting it off, we had a misunderstanding brought on by miscommunication. Then I chased after you in a fucking wheelchair to declare my undying attraction to you. If that isn't a plot to a trashy romance novel, I don't know what the fuck is. At least it's not raining right now.”
“I dunno, it might be drizzling,” Yamato said, glancing at a window.
Iruka paused, considering.
“I guess it...would make a pretty good book,” he admitted quietly. “The only thing is...I'm not sure what happens next.”
“That part's for us to write,” Kakashi said, his tone eager. “Only we can complete the story.”
“Aaaaand I'm going to puke,” Yamato stated.
“Sorry, we crossed the line from 'trashy' into 'sappy'.” Kakashi shook his head. “Anyway. Iruka. Please, I'm begging you. Let me sweep you off your feet. Just...give me a chance.”
“I'll do you one better,” Iruka said after a pause. “I'll give you my number.” Stealing a marker from the nearby nurse's station, he bent and wrote his cell number on Kakashi's cast, then straightened and held out the bouquet. “Here, you can have these. The message works for you too, I guess.”
Kakashi accepted the flowers with a laugh, taking an appreciative sniff.
“And now, I shall ride dramatically off into the sunset,” he said with complete seriousness. “Come, my valiant steed. Awaaaay!”
“I will push you down the stairs,” Yamato grumbled as he spun the wheelchair around and started back down the hallway. Iruka watched them go with a fond smile on his face, giddy with anticipation.
He was eager to read the next few chapters in his life.
Including the steamy bits.
(Written for @kakairu-fest KakaIru Month 2021, Day Twelve Prompt: Hospitals)
#kakairu#KakaIru Month 2021#hatake kakashi#umino iruka#naruto#hospital au#crappy romance novels#all the cliches
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made of gold (reader x myg) (*SFW*)
can be read as gender neutral!
tags: fluff, dating, insecurity , slight angst, happy ending, can be read as gender neutral, reader wears a bit of makeup
warnings: none
word count: 2.3k
💛💛💛
the liquor had gotten to your head.
your boss had insisted on a round of drinks tonight to celebrate the project that had just wrapped up, but no one in the team was in the mood. but knowing his head-strong approach, all your co-workers merely glanced at each other unhappily when the clock struck 5 and got up to follow him.
fast forward three hours and here you were, drunk off your ass in a neighbourhood far from your own. it was friday and you didn’t have anywhere to be tomorrow but you weren’t in the mood to sit in a taxi for the half hour it would take to get back home. you were feeling nauseous as it was, stomach uneasy from too many cups of coffee and the all-nighter you’d pulled in preparation for today’s presentation. it had all gone well, it always did knowing your team. but you were a worrier, and the last few weeks of working on this project had done bad things to you. forget the possible promotion your boss had hinted at, you just wanted to get by without liver damage for the rest of the weekend.
“hurry, hurry.” you told the first cab driver that pulls over. you glanced nervously over your shoulder, hoping your boss doesn’t spot your face standing on the sidewalk. you had made up such an elaborate lie to get away before they left the bar for a second round.
drunk and tired, you didn’t realize the address you told the driver isn’t your own.
you just got out at the corner and pay, bowing goodbye absently. then you turned around, fumbling when the passcode for the front door doesn’t work.
“what the fuck.” you muttered under your breath. you sighed and pressed a hand to your forehead. don’t say i forgot the passcode.
“y/n?”
you turned around, wondering why your female roommate’s voice was so deep today, or why she was just getting home now, too. but then you felt it. two warm, sturdy hands that clasped your upper arms. and then you saw them. dark, gentle eyes, hidden under a baseball cap and a mask, but you would recognize those eyes anywhere. you smiled. “when did you get here, baby?”
yoongi cleared his throat, cheeks turning a bit pink. in your drunkenness, you forgot yoongi isn’t baby, not yet. it had only been about three months of flirting between you two, more phone calls and top-secret dinner dates than anything serious. you understood that. yoongi’s a big man, and you were just lucky enough to have met him through a mutual friend.
you were simple and he was charming, but for whatever reason, he looked at you like you’re made of gold.
“this is where i live, y/n-ssi. remember?” yoongi reminded you lightly. your mouth fell open dramatically. ah. you fucked up. no wonder you’d felt a little funny telling the driver your address.
“oh. oh!” you blurted, looking around quickly. your eyes searched for any lingering people, cameras in bushes, that type of thing. suddenly, you felt a lot more sober. “shit. i’m sorry yoongi-ssi. let me just—”
you pulled up an app on your phone, ready to call your roommate to come get you instead of risking lingering around and being caught. but before you could do that, yoongi’s hand gently tapped your shoulder. you turned and he was standing with the door half-open. “just come in.” he said, hand trailing down your arm to take your hand in his.
blushing like a teenager on their very first walk of shame, you follow him past the lobby to the elevators. you can’t help but be a little shocked at all the marble and sleek steel around you. of course you knew of bts before you met yoongi, but you worked a very busy corporate job that made it hard to have hobbies. but even with all the small promotions you had gotten in the last ten years, you knew you would never afford luxury like this. min yoongi was rich rich. you realize.
when you glance at him, you suddenly feel nervous. you had been upright with him since day one about keeping the flirting polite and secret. you had a good job of your own and were very independent. yoongi liked that, he’d told you multiple times. you both liked to take relationships slow, mature and sensible adults as you were. but now you’d done it. you’d showed up and invaded his space, without the two of you ever discussing “dating”. as far as you knew, you were just another fling of this big superstar. perhaps you were making him uncomfortable? you two hadn’t even held hands until now.
you looked down at your clasped hands. yoongi was looking at something on his phone to bide the ride up to his floor. he was dressed in simple black sweats and a t-shirt but there was a rolex on his wrist. if you moved your wrist just a little, the cold sweat on your body would smudge the glass. are those diamonds? like real fucking diamonds? you wondered, staring at the shining jewels around the glass.
“something wrong, y/n-ssi?” yoongi asked. you jolted, pulling your hand back.
“n-no! nothing at all!” you replied a beat too late, mind still fuzzy. man, you really needed a nap.
yoongi looked down, where his rolex-clad hand dangled by his side. then he pulled his mask down, chewing his upper lip. “do you want me to drop you home?”
just the mention of getting in a car had you feeling nauseous. his home was even further from your place than the bar had been. and now that you know that min yoongi is rich rich, you can’t risk it. god, what if i threw up on his, like, hand-crafted leather seats or something?
the elevator dinged and slid open to reveal yoongi’s floor.
you followed him quietly down the long, marble hallway to the very last door. yoongi’s apartment. he glanced at you as he tapped the numbers into the electronic lock. you looked away sharply at the plant outside his neighbour’s house instead. you hadn’t seen the code, so why did you feel so guilty?
“sorry to intrude.” you said as you enter his home. yoongi didn’t reply, just nudged the pair of guest slippers towards you with his foot. you took off your shoes, watching yoongi with a bit of awe as he strode into the house and turned on the lights. was his back always that broad?
“what did you do today?” you asked, cringing at how it sounds like a question a partner would ask.
the sound of the fridge opening and closing answered you. a second later, yoongi appeared behind you. he lightly tapped your elbow as he came around you to sit on the large sofa. you followed, sitting down at the edge of your seat.
“i worked in the studio today. we’re preparing for our new album.” yoongi answered in short but polite sentences. he opened a can of beer in his hand. “how was yours? you mentioned you had a presentation today.”
you flushed. you couldn’t believe he remembered that, you had told the deadline for your project that weeks ago. “it was good. we went for drinks afterwards.” you explained, your leg bouncing at your side. “what do you usually do when you get home?”
yoongi set the can on the coffee table. he leaned into the sofa, facing you. “depends on the schedule we had that day. if i’m tired i’ll just eat, wash up, and go to bed. if i’m feeling good, i do all of that plus a drink or two.”
“you feel good today?” you asked, your heart jumping to your throat when he smiled against the cushion.
“yes.” yoongi answered, eyes not leaving yours. “i do.”
you cleared your throat. a notification popped up and you glanced down at your phone, happy for a split second away from yoongi’s eyes that make you feel hot inside. your roommate was asking where you were. “my roommate can come get me soon.”
“i’ll order us something to eat. text her once we’re done eating.”
you nodded numbly, looking at the can of beer on the table rather than at yoongi. alcohol really was the bane of your existence. you were so embarrassed to look this way in front of yoongi.
you and yoongi engaged in some more small talk once he ordered food. he asked you what you would like to watch on netflix and handed you the remote to put it on. in the meantime, he said he would go get your food. you felt embarrassed when he said your food. it was a reminder that you showed up uninvited and that he was probably just too nice to kick you out.
your sadness seemed to amplify the tiredness. without knowing, you drifted off in the few minutes between when you put the show on and yoongi’s return.
when you woke, there was something soft but firm in your face like a pillow. it smelled like laundry detergent and feels warm and cozy. you buried your face into it, sighing in comfort. a moment later, you felt fingertips gently card through your hair. was that your roommate pulling you in for one of her random cuddle sessions?
you adjusted again, pushing yourself up against your pillow. you were about to drift back asleep when a deep voice filled your ears. “do you want to eat yet?” yoongi asked.
you startled, sitting up as fast as you could. you looked down, horrified. you were laying on top of yoongi’s chest, your head having been tucked in the space between his neck and shoulder. yoongi, who had been scrolling on his phone until now, turned his phone off at your worried expression. “what is it, y/n-ssi?”
you grabbed your own phone off the coffee table to check the time. it’s 10:30 now. your roommate was probably asleep by now. and here you were, still drunk and laying on top of a man who wasn’t even your boyfriend yet. shit, shit, shit.
“i’m sorry. i really need to leave.” you said, climbing off yoongi. your eyes catch on an unopened pizza box on the armchair next to the sofa, feeling extremely guilty. this was terrible. you ruined everything.
yoongi was kind, too kind for you. he took you in despite the risk of cameras catching you outside his apartment. he bought you dinner just for you to fall asleep and not let him eat it. your own place was too far from here, a taxi would cost a ton. and on top of it all, you weren’t even dating. what the hell were you supposed to do now?
“i’ll drop you.” yoongi’s voice was back to normal, no longer sleepy. as expected, he didn’t try to make you stay. whether that was out of courtesy or just because you were annoying to him, it burned. “but aren’t you hungry?” he asked.
on cue, your stomach grumbled.
yoongi laughed. “sit down, i’ll warm some up for us.”
the two of you ate quietly, awkwardly.
when you were done, you stood up. fuck it, you would have to pay the big taxi fare and endure the nausea. you couldn’t bother yoongi anymore. so you said a quick thanks for dinner without looking him in the eye, ready to run for it.
“y/n.” yoongi’s voice stopped you. “are you sure you want to go home?”
yoongi’s cheeks were pink when he looked at you. he scratched the back of his neck. “you can spend the night here, if you like.” when your eyes widened, his did, too. “i have a guest room. a guest room with a bathroom and everything.”
still drunk and crushing too hard on min yoongi, you smiled. “okay.”
but as you took a step towards him, you nearly slipped on the polished surface of the hallway. you groaned as he caught you, embarrassed. you were going to kill your boss for making you drink this much.
steadily, yoongi guided you to the guest bedroom and sat you on the bed. you wait for him to return and when he does, it’s with a packet of makeup wipes and a brand-new toothbrush still in its pack. purple. you noticed as he set the latter on the duvet. interesting.
you startled when his hand cupped your face, guiding you back to look at him. “close your eyes.” he whispered, face only a few inches from yours. you let him wipe off the light makeup you wore every day to work. when you opened your eyes, yoongi was giving you that same look from earlier. like you were something special, something whose true value only he knows. like you were made of gold.
your eyes fell to his lips. you inhaled, ready to take your chances.
yoongi closed the space, kissing you sweetly. his hands cupped your face, and yours wound around his broad back. it felt perfect.
when you separated, the two of you were breathless. seeing each other’s flushed faces, you laughed together.
when you come back from borrowing yoongi’s shower, the lights in the house were off except for yoongi’s room. he smiled as you slid into bed beside him. he reached over you to turn the lights off, then pulled you in against his side. your heart fluttered when you felt him tuck the duvet in around you.
“yoongi?” you asked. under your ear, his heartrate got a little faster. he must’ve thought you were asleep. “we’re—we’re a thing right?” you ventured, hoping all of this was real. that min yoongi wasn’t the kind of guy who could do this for every fling.
yoongi laughed under his breath. “obviously, baby.” he replied, kissing the top of your head. you smiled as you fall asleep beside him.
#bts fics#bts fluff#yoongi x reader#yoongi x oc#yoongi x you#suga x you#suga x oc#suga x reader#suga fluff#yoongi fluff
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The Miys, Ch. 142
Another late chapter... I’m really batting a thousand lately, seems like.
So, work has been insane, but @baelpenrose reminds me to post when I forget, thankfully. And this is SUCH a fun chapter. I hope you all enjoy!
I dropped into a seat in Mess Hall Seven with a groan, so exhausted that I barely managed to get soup and a grilled cheese from the console. Tyche yawned and nodded in agreement before poking at her sushi bowl idly. It was six Von-days after the last drill, and between coordinating increased training schedules for Shelters Three and Seven and helping Charly plan kink-night at the Undine, we were wiped.
“People are ungrateful,” she muttered before managing to barely balance a piece of salmon into her mouth.
I muttered something that hopefully sounded like agreement before I scooped up a bite of my soup with one wedge of sandwich, too lazy to even bother with the spoon. “Remind me why we don’t have Vati and Hannah handling the practice schedules?”
“Because they are handling the extra evacuation drills with Jokul and Arthur.”
Personally, I thought they were getting the better end of this deal, but since the raging success of their first Food Festival, it really was only fair. “And the relocations for those who need it,” I admitted. “Except mine.”
“Conor may actually strangle one of them if any of your plants don’t make it,” she pointed out, gesturing with her chopsticks for emphasis after having given up and using her fingers to eat her lunch. “Not to mention I wouldn’t wish packing with Maverick on anyone.”
“He’s letting me pack the books and textiles.” I shrugged in acceptance after taking another bite of soup-dipped sandwich.
We picked at our food in silence after that, grateful for something resembling a reprieve, before we were interrupted by a flurry of grey hair and enthusiasm landing in one of the nearby chairs with a heavy thunk. “Good afternoon, Madams Reid.”
“Hey, Jokul,” I muttered as Tyche just waggled her fingers at him. I really think I liked it better when he was trying to kill me. Right now, I might even let him do it.
“I know you are both on your meal period, but I wanted to test the waters on potentially scheduling a community activity,” he rushed out.
Tyche guarded her lunch with an almost feral aggression, having heard what happened the last time Jokul had interrupted my lunch. “That should really be something you run by Al-”
“Worthington, yes, I know,” he interrupted. “However, I know you are both quite busy and I wanted to be respectful of your time. As such, I will make this as brief as - ow!” He snatched his hand back away from the other half of my sandwich, rubbing where I had slammed my spoon down onto it.
“I have no idea where the food stealing comes from, but don’t,” I warned him.
“Rude, got it,” he nodded in a terrifying impression of Charly’s normal demeanor. “As I was saying, I recently learned a new type of game from Terra, from the Before. It involves teamwork, and encourages creativity and escapism, and I think it would be a very good community activity - “
I surrendered to my urge to groan. “We are not doing a redux of Settlers of Cattan. Arthur stabbed someone last time.”
“I didn’t press charges…” Jokul pouted, glancing at the scar on the back of his wrist briefly. “Besides, it was only a fork. Clearly he didn’t mean it, there were four knives in arms reach counting my own.”
Tyche cocked an eyebrow at me. Seriously?
I pursed my lips and wrinkled my nose in response. Yep.
“So what game is it this time?” I asked hesitantly.
I was reward-bombarded with a grin. “It’s called Dungeons and Dragons! Somewhat like a video game, but with more people, and using writing implements and paper. Oh, and different kinds of dice, very important. One person is something of the narrator, to give the game a kind of structure, while the other players act as characters in the game… Ivan introduced me to it, and it is quite challenging with the right people. The dungeon master - that is the narrator - has to re-evaluate the story based on the actions of the other players, but the players themselves don’t know what the dungeon master is going to do. It is very much a social diversion, and there are many classes….”
As Jokul continued to gush, he was rather oblivious to the fact that Tyche and I were stuffing our faces as quickly as possible to avoid interrupting him or laughing. We had both played when we were younger - in fact, we had been introduced to the game by our mother. There had even been a very overwhelming pop-culture movement in our youth around the game, which further emphasized just how far out in the boonies Jokul had grown up. As shocking as it was that he was just now discovering the game, it came at exactly zero surprise that he enjoyed it so much - it was right up his alley of interests.
About fifteen minutes and two more grilled cheeses into his retelling of the campaign he was part of, Charly and Arthur squeezed in with us, their own lunches in tow. As seemed to be a growing trend, Arthur reached over and snagged one of my sandwiches before I could react, shoving half of it in his face.
That was apparently enough to snap Jokul out of his story. “Hey! Why didn’t you hit him?”
“His deathwish, not my problem,” I shrugged.
Around the remains of my lunch, Arthur managed to enunciate. “Told you, Noah fissed the dairy allergy.”
“Bleargh,” I gagged comically. “It’s okay, think I’m done anyway.”
Jokul’s hand swatted Arthur’s out of the way to steal the rest of my food. “As I was saying, Ivan was quite clever with his resolution to deal subdural damage to the player who was very much ruining the storyline by insisting his character was immune to magical sleep…”
“Oooooo! I love tabletops!” Charly squealed, bouncing in her seat. “What setting are you playing in right now? My favorite was always Exalted…”
“Miss Harper, I think we are discussing different activities.” Jokul sounded supremely confused, but my heart broke a bit.
Arthur shook his head. “Maybe not Exalted, but what about Ebberron? Swordhaven, maybe? Just tell me it isn’t Ravenloft… I know you haven’t been fucking around in a Dark Sun, but I beg you to tell me you aren’t playing Ravenloft.”
“I’m not sure what those are… Ivan introduced me to Dungeons and Dragons. There is only one setting.”
“So… Greyhawk or homebrew,” Arthur nodded. “Best place to start, get the basics down.”
Jokul’s head pivoted toward me and Tyche, squinting in annoyance. “You knew, didn’t you? And you let me prattle on…”
“You were so… happy….” I explained plaintively. “We didn’t want to ruin that for you.”
Tyche nodded. “We both remember how fun that first campaign is. And honestly? We’ve been having a kind of crappy day. It was nice to hear someone be excited about something that isn’t work related.”
“But I came to you to discuss making it a ship activity…”
“Originally, yeah,” I shrugged. “That was maybe the first thirty seconds. After that, you were doing what literally every tabletop roleplaying person has done since the beginning of time… telling stories about the fun, dramatic, and frankly stupid shit the people in your party are doing.”
“Says the two-foot eight halfling rogue,” Arthur scowled.
“I rolled it at random, it was fifteen years ago, get over it!” I threw my hands up dramatically. “At least I wasn’t mated to a frickin’ deity.”
Charly giggled uncontrollably while Jokul goggled at us. “Exalted is broken in all the fun ways.”
“You literally sacrificed, and I quote ‘all of your fucks to give’, for necromancy.”
“That was your idea!”
Jokul turned toward Tyche, waiting for her to say something. She just held up her hands defensively. “I was a murder monk-bunny.”
Arthur snorted. “You were the Black Rabbit of Inle….”
“Well if my wife would have just stopped dying…!”
“At least none of us were the Platinum Knight who pissed his pants every time he confronted his favored enemy,” I laughed. “He never did live that one down. Every. Single. Dragon. He would crit fail his roles.”
“Oh, please,” Arthur intoned drily. “Did I ever tell you about the time one of my players managed to make ‘Notice me, Senpai’ into the most terrifying in-universe warcry imaginable?”
Charly choked before swatting his shoulder. “Not in front of my pasta. Please.”
Jokul, however, looked both horrified and intrigued, egging Arthur on. “Barbarian whose entire clan worshipped a god named The Senpai…. Just imagine, a barbarian in a rage, bellowing ‘NOTICE ME, SENPAI!!!’ before just scything down thirty men with a broadsword.”
At this point, I was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down my face. “Please, please tell me there was a kilt and pigtails involved….”
Jokul touched his own hair, before straightening as seriously as possible. “They are warrior’s braids, Councillor.”
That was it, I couldn’t take it anymore. I just put my head down on my folded arms and waiting to either pass out from laughing so hard or from exhaustion. A few deep breaths and a spinning head later, I managed to wipe my face on my sleeve and realized the conversation was continuing without me. Just as I was clearing my throat to let Jokul know he should be fine to start organizing something and to send me a rough outline, Arthur dealt the final blow.
Leaning over, he whispered over my shoulder. “By the way, the barbarian’s name was Drystan of the Doki-doki tribe.”
I was proud that I managed to get up and dash into the hallway before collapsing against the wall in maniacal laughter. I barely registered Hannah���s voice behind me asking everyone at the table if I needed medical assistance, and that did not help.
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#the miys#found family#humans are weird#science fiction#aliens#apocalypse#humans are space orcs#humans are space fae#earth is space australia#post apocalypse#post post apocalypse#original science fiction#original sci fi#original writing
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holy hell, gamers, i finally reached one whole thousand followers! how bonkers is that! when i first made this blog in december 2018, i was just trying to start over in a new fandom. ive been active on tumblr for a looong time (since i was like 11, which is. not great, but we wont get into that). i cant remember quite why i decided to remake, but i never imagined getting a higher following than i did before, but i did! 1000 followers is bonkers, i’ve never had a thousand of anything! i seriously cant thank each and every one of you enough, whether you followed me for 911 or for mcyt or for whatever!
now, since ive reached this absolutely bonkers milestone, im feeling particularly sappy! so under the cut, i have some friends and mutuals tagged who are super great n who are always an absolute pleasure to see on my dash! <3 again, thank you all so much! (ps, if we’re mutuals and i didnt tag u in this, that doesnt mean i dont love and appreciate you!! i mostly am just picking people to tag based off how often i see them on my dash! i love all of u so much <3)
♡ 911 FRIENDS ♡
(aka the ogs, aka the fire fam)
♡ @lovelessmotel ♡
emily!! god, where do i even begin with how much i love and adore you!! i know youre one of my big sisters, but wow i am so proud of how much youve discovered yourself since we’ve met!! like wow, look at this epic, gorgeous person whos one of MY close friends! im so lucky to be friends with you! thank you so much for being my friend, i appreciate you and all the sisterly advice you’ve given me more than i can ever put into words!
♡ @eddiediaz-buckley ♡
sav!! mom!! i love u so unbelievably much!! i am so unbelievably grateful for you and everything youve done for me! all the advice youve given me and all the times youve let me vent to you have been so important to me and i cannot thank you enough for all that. im soso appreciative of you and im so glad that i have someone as amazing as you as my mom/big sister (we’ll never really figure out our fams family dynamics, will we?) (ps, whenever i go outside and have my keys with me, its always so comforting to feel the keychain you got me! its like my moms with me everywhere i go!)
♡ @liesoverthec ♡
bonbonbonbon!!! i love you so much, you wouldnt BELIEVE how much i love you!!! im so glad we met bc you are so unbelievably kind!! there is a very good reason a nickname for u is bonbon bc you are just as sweet as candy!! maybe even more so!! i love having you as one of my big sisters, you give such wonderful advice and talking to you always makes me feel a million times better!! i love you and i am soso glad i get to call you my friend!
♡ @marauder-girl ♡
sabsabsab!! i love u so much, u funky lil future lawyer!! im so proud of u and i can hardly believe ur gonna be my Lawyer big sister!!! thats so awesome!! i cant believe such a rad person is one of MY friends!! how lucky am i!! i love having you as one of my big sisters, youre so kind and funny and talented and your advice has always been so helpful to me too! thank you so much for being my friend and for always being there for me!!
♡ @nighting-gale17 ♡
cait, my love, my wifey!!! wowowow i love u so much!!! im so glad we’re friends, you are so unbelievably lovely!! youre also so unbelievably talented like??? hey queen wanna hand some of ur writing ability over to the unfortunate (like me). i’m so glad we’re friends, youre so sweet and even tho we dont talk as much as we used to, i still have SO much love for you in my heart
♡ @africaneuropean ♡
rae, my father!! i love u so much!! i know we havent talked at all in. who knows how long. but i still have so much love for u in my heart!! you are so iconic and cool and funny, im so glad i met you n became friends with you!! ur one of the coolest people i know, i hope i can be as cool and mysterious and wonderful as you one day
♡ @evaneddie ♡
DHYL!!! dhyl pickle i love u so much!!! whenever u pop into my inbox with random nice messages, every part of me lights up!!! u are so kind to me and for what!! i miss talking to u as much as we used to, you are so sweet and you are such a good friend!! i love u n im SO proud of how far youve come with gif making, i still remember when u first started n youve gotten SO amazing at gifs lately!! i love u soso much n im so glad we’re friends, youre so awesome!!!
♡ @basil-the-writer ♡
des!!! i love u so much!!! i know we’ve never rly talked all that much but im glad we have interacted in the ways that we have!! u are so sweet n so talented!! like the fact that u have the patience for those lil video edits u do?? that is so cool!! all ur edits are so cool, i cannot imagine being able to make stuff like that without dying every single time. u are so cool n i love being able to call u my friend!!
♡ GRIFF ♡
(aka griff)
♡ @yawnralphio ♡
u get ur own section bc u are my only 911 friend who isnt an og, but thats ok bc u are so swaggy!! i love being friends with u griff, u are so cool and funny and i am so glad that u still want to be friends with me despite all of the horrifying things u’ve learned about mcyt from me jdhfajkdhfa. i love u so much n i am so excited to get to know u more n get closer to u!!
♡ FRUITBLR ♡
(aka mcyt friends)
♡ @fear-epidemic ♡
atlas u are so swaggy and funny!! tumblr funny man!! im so glad we’re mutuals, i love u a whole lot. that one time u me n wilby played bed wars together was so fun even if we’re really bad! n that one time we played on the fruitblr server while on vc was so fun, i loved talking to u n playing with u so much, we gotta do that again sometime. i love u so much chapin n im so glad we’re friends!!
♡ @netheritedream ♡
hari my beloved... i love u so much. like literally so much that its really embarassing. i am so glad u tagged me in that one follow forever post n put the offer on the table to let me join the server. i love being ur dumb lil husband!!! jus like actual fundy, i would risk it all to watch treasure planet with u. i love u sososo much, i wish i could live closer to u so i could actually talk to u more often </333 im going through severe withdrawal, pray for me. im gonna stop talking for now bc if i kept going on, this post would be several miles along n nobody has time for that </3 just know that i love u so much and i love having matching icons n i love being ur husband, i love u so much
♡ @sootswilbur ♡
tommy... i care you so much. little bromther!!! im sososo glad we’re friends bc u are so kind to me all the time n u are so easy to talk to!! ur also so talented, ur writing n ur gifs are so amazing n im so proud of all the awesome stuff u make!! seeing u experiment more with ur gif sets n trying new things is so awesome n inspiring and i love seeing ur experiments work out!! i love u soso much n im so happy to be ur big brother!! (or one of them at least)
♡ @fruitbur ♡
virgil my Other beloved... i love u so much!! u are one of the kindest people ive ever met n im so glad i met u!! i know ive already told u this before but ur tagging system is so sweet n i love seeing u reblog my posts bc im like “yay alastair is gonna tell me that he loves me in the tags :D” i also lovelovelove ur theme, i love the soft pink and the lil aesthetic board that u have pinned, its so nice to look at!!! ily sososo much <333
♡ @theartofmining ♡
hey fruit ily. like genuinely, u are so unbelievably funny that u make my ribs hurt so much. i know we’re like never rly that serious but i love u so much. as much as i joke about hating u, i really am glad we’re friends n i really look forward to becoming better friends with u. i love u a whole lot rain, i love seeing u on my dash bc ur full of good takes n funny posts
♡ @sapnaplive ♡
dream.... bonks our foreheads together... i care u so much. my other half!!! i love u with my whole little heart. u are soso cool and im so lucky to be able to call u my friend!! ur themes are always so cool, i wish i could be half as cool as them!!! ur art is also so epic like??? u are a triple threat: good at art, tumblr themes, AND minecraft building. and ur also so kind!!! u are one of the sweetest people i know, i love u so much and im so glad im friends with u!!
♡ @dreams-little-kitten ♡
corn u are so weird and i mean that in the kindest way possible. u are so cryptic n i love that so much about u. ur like the wilbur to my philza sometimes and i think thats so awesome. that one time u came into my inbox to talk shit about that one cuphead boss was so funny and absurd, i loved that so much. i love You so much. i love how ur just so effortlessly funny, n im so glad i can be friends with u
♡ @dreamsmp ♡
JEL!!!! i love u so much holy cow. u are so sweet!! all the time!!! ur also so talented, ur gifs always look so good!!! i love being friends with u, ur always so nice to me n u always leave rly nice tags when u reblog my gif sets that make me so happy!!! i think about that one time u rbed my fundy gif set n said “FUNDY GIFS” and “GIFS BY FUNDY” it made me so happy!!! i love u a whole lot, im so glad we’re friends :)
♡ @leaguelol ♡
damien!! i love u so much u funky little cryptid!! i love when u pop into the gc just to share cryptic thoughts, u are so strange but i think thats so cool of u!!! i honestly see u kinda like a lil sibling, im always so proud of u when i see ur art on my dash!! u are so talented at art!! i love u so much n i love being ur friend, ur rly sweet n i love seeing u on my dash and in the gc!!
♡ @its5undy ♡
idk why im putting u on this, ur my mortal enemy. jkjk, i actually love u a lot clay! i love joking around with u, ur so funny and for what. im so glad u joined the gc bc i love talking to you so much!! i still love that one time u reblogged that fwt gif set n tagged me in it moments after I reblogged it. i love that u thought about me, that rly warms my heart! i love being friends with u sososo much
♡ @cavalreee ♡
oh hey, another great big fruit!! i dont think we talk all that often, which is a shame, bc ur so sweet!! and also so fucking funny, why is everyone in this friend group so fucking funny, its not fair. i love seeing u on my dash talking with ur other friends, u always have the funniest convos ever. also? ur desktop theme is SO epic, it threw me off the first time i saw it but its so swaggy, just like u!! i love u soso much azzie, n i hope we can talk more in the future bc ur so cool
♡ @technosoot ♡
i love u even tho ur a br*t /j /j /j. jannat u are so unbelievably sweet. im so glad u joined the gc bc u are such a kind presence both in there and on my dash! u radiate very Warm, Friend energy. ur friend shaped. i love u so much n i love being friends with u!! im very eager to become closer friends with u bc u seem like a really amazing friend to have
♡ @sortasortaspicy ♡
les where are u in the gc i miss u </3 i love u so much, u fit in so well from the very beginning n brought so much more fun and laughter into the gc. i dont know u all that well n i dont think we’ve talked one on one like. at all. but id love to get closer to u bc ur so rad and ur so sweet!!
♡ EPIC PEOPLE ♡
(aka mutuals who are so cool n id love to be friends with u pls talk to me)
@eurytherm ♡ @vampkings ♡ @weelbur ♡ @wilburtheesoot ♡ @quackityskarl ♡ @wimblrscoot ♡ @technofarmer ♡ @wooteena ♡ @bloodforblood ♡ @smpsapnap ♡ @literallynotfound ♡ @hearty-an0n ♡ @enderanboo ♡ @springbonniecpu ♡ @pandascanpvp ♡ @tommylnnits ♡ @strawberrygogy ♡ @timedeo ♡ @nymika-arts ♡ @h-isforhome ♡ @eboykarl ♡ @joe-alkaysani ♡ @betwecouldmakesome ♡ @squirrelstone ♡ @maddieandchimney
#hehe idk how to tag this#ive spent SO long on this post im so glad its done#follow forever#eden.txt
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How do you think the boys will react to Dr Tim in fear gas (like full dose of it)??
Hi babe.
I’ve said it before, but ah. Be careful what you wish for, heh.
But no, really hasn’t poor Dr. Tim been through enough? Guy has already narrowly escaped collapsing bridges, been up close and personal with the Joker, fought off Scarecrow’s goons, AND was smack dab in the middle of an honest-to-God Arkham Riot.Now we’re going to just get him all up in some fear toxin? Good Lord, can the man get a break? He hasn’t had some smut in a while tbh. (winks over to chippon)
BUT.
WARNINGS FOR:
Mentions of child abuse
Mentions of gore, blood, grossness
You will be crying by the end. Guaranteed.
Extreme mental and emotional HURT
Tim’s fears are Jesus-Fucking-Christ level bad
You’ve been warned :D
**
He’s not even back to work yet after that ambulance wreck, still feels the road rash, pulled muscles, and residual owfuck from a little rough and tumble time at Arkham Asylum.
But, he’s in a convenience store for fuck’s sake because Jay wouldn’t let him have coffee this morning (nah, Sweets. Ya ain’t godda get up yet. Jus’ go back ta sleep wid’ me, yeah? We’re gonna stay here all warm n’ snug. Sshh. I gotcha, Timmy), and he’d managed to wrangle himself out of Jay’s arms when he woke up again, found out there’s only enough grounds for a shitty, weak pot, and Tim can’t even stand the thought of it.
Unfortunately, he gets a whole lot of random bad guys stopping in for those terrible hot dogs and road drinks on their way out of Gotham.
(Crane looks just as horrifying as he remembers from the hospital that one time, and Tim fervently hopes, hopes none of these henchmen recognize him in a beat-up hoodie and saggy sweatpants.)
What makes matters worse?
Crane isn’t even trying to be, you know, an evil villain.
There’s a put-upon sign behind the mask, and the fear gas comes out of nowhere, getting everyone in the store because the guy just doesn’t want to deal with civilians right this moment. He missed the break-out and decided to have a party all on his own, but he hasn’t even gotten the time to get the plan for his next evil scheme ready yet.
So he raises a hand and sprays a little gas to keep people from being lucid enough to call the cops and rat him out. He needs some time for a good getaway.
Tim, however, sees the inevitable coming and is frozen to the spot, can’t get his weak knees to unlock so he can at least try to duck. Instead, he gets it full in the face.
In a sweep, Crane sprays the small store as his henchmen drop a $20 in front of the coughing clerk and take off back out the door. Hotdogs and all.
Tim scrabbles for his phone, the noxious cloud makes his eyes water, his lungs fucking burn on the first choked, shocked breath. Even when he tries to hold his breath, he’s too terrified, knees going out just as he thumbs the screen behind his back.
“Timmy?” is tinny and far away while he tries to at least breath shallow, eyes dart to the door, his brain tuned into the whole get out and away before the inevitable happens.
He’s got to get to Jay, he’s got to get out of here and get to someone. If he starts talking while hepped up on fear gas, he could give away everyone’s secrets. He could tell random strangers who everyone really is, he could tell anyone their weaknesses, he could put everyone in danger.
Building blocks. If he can get to a lab, to Steph’s, back to his penthouse, anywhere not here, he can probably crack the building blocks of the toxin before it takes him over completely.
He doesn’t even hear, “Baby? Ya there? Didja butt dial again? Thought I tol’ ya ta stay in bed with me, yeah?”
Not with the door right there.
All he has to do is make his weak knees fucking work, ignore the burn in his lungs, his brain, his eyes teary with the cloud still thick around him, with the abrupt slam of his heart in his chest, with the sudden shadows in the niches that hadn’t been there before.
He just has to get to that fucking door. Has to be able to run.
Tim manages to mostly get there before the screaming starts.
**
Dick is working the day shift in the uniform when word Crane struck come over the wire.
Whenever it’s one of the big bads, he gets close enough to get the details before handily disappearing to slip into something a little more comfortable.
(He knows his ass is spectacular in the Nightwing suit.)
A boop from his pocket is his Batcomm notification, and he pops it in just as he dips into the men’s room with a plan to get out one of the usual windows.
“We’ve got Crane on the move, O. Might want to drop B a line.”
“Already aware, Boy Wonder. It’s more severe than you realize.” His phone goes off as Dick is shimmying out the window and up the building where he keeps a spare suit in a nice waterproof bag hidden in the overhang.
When he checks whatever oh shit is added to a potentially deadly scene, he’s got a text from Jay and a picture from O.
Surveillance footage from inside a convenience store where Crane evidently attacked some civilians. His breath catches when one of the faces turned away to try avoiding the gas is–
Timmy.
“Fuck,” is a little breathless with a very different kind of fear, and Dick immediately turns it up a notch, throwing his suit on and slapping a domino over his eyes. “What can you tell me, O?”
Quick check on what he’s got to work with.
“B and Rob are already in pursuit. Signal is approaching to assist. As far as we can tell, this is the only place Crane managed to hit. Everyone’s mostly been accounted for by GCPD.”
“I sense a but coming–” and he checks his phone two seconds before time to fly, and the text from Jay is something about Tim and screaming, and now he won’t pick up the phone...
“O?” Because dread strikes him in the chest.
“He’s the only civilian missing. He must have already taken off before the patrol car got there.”
“He was hit with fear gas, and he took off?”
The jumpline is already in his hand before he even hits the edge of the roof at a run. It’s go time.
So, it’s a race to find Tim, all doped up on fear toxin and probably tripping out of his mind in one of the most dangerous cities in America where people like the Joker and Two-Face might hold a grudge.
Jason was already suited up before he sent that text to Dickie, was outta there when the sounds came over the line, the familiar screams. It’s a particular flavor of terror spelled out that Timmy, was probably in trouble.
He hits up O with the deets while Nightwing hits the almost-night, making the first swing fucking count.
**
The world alters and shift around him, almost throwing him off his feet more than once.
He’s already completely lost his sense of direction, trying to keep his eyes closed in a last ditch effort to keep the hallucinations at bay.
(It’s just chemicals fucking with your brain. You can beat this. It’s not real. None of it is real. You know that. You know it’s just–
Brick under his fingertips, abrading the sensitive skin. Stumbles over a curb, and the loud whonkkkkk almost rips a surprised yip out of him. Tim cracks his eyes open, heart picking up when the yellow lights look like the porch light from the Johnson’s house–
– before they brought him back.
“He’s…a special child. He needs more than we can give him–”
“He can’t get along with the other children, so I’m afraid–”
“Well, you see. Mary is pregnant! It’s-it’s a miracle, and we like Tim, really we do–“
Tim grits his teeth, hears so much wahwahwah than anyone really talking, telling him to get the hell out of the street, what is he thinking?
But instead of a shadow of a motorist that had pretty much almost run him over, all he can see is Detective Gordon, way back when he’d been the one to come to the Drake’s manor and give him the news.
His mom and dad weren’t coming back, not ever.
“N-No,” he whimper screams, slamming his eyes closed, and takes off again. It’s a full tilt run, every person he meets with someone else’s face.
Michael McCannon, the guy that beat the shit out of his foster kids.
Lilly Wright, wanted the income from having a foster in her house, didn’t care if he went to school, if he slept, if he ate, if he was dead in a gutter because he fell off a roof running after–
He smacks his palms into brick, scraping his face, turns and there’s Tony Stark back when he’d first met. Intimidating and imposing, eyes narrowed in distaste.
He runs faster, only half recognizes the buildings as he goes. He knocks into someone, eats face in an alley, panting and sweating, eyes full of tears, brain on fucking fire.
“Drake!” Hissed from the shadows, the darkness parting for red, gold, and green.
But it’s too much red, too much red.
“N-no, nonono,” and now he’s outright sobbing, scrabbling to his feet because Dami, Dami, is in a ragged, torn tunic, skin broken and blood fucking pouring out of him.
He’s got both hands on the vigilante, brain failing him, spitting out the mortality rate of being run the fuck through.
“No, no, no Dami, Dami,” he’s pressing on the worst wound, tears streaming down his face, babbling incoherently, apologizing, begging this kid, the little brother he should have had, not to fucking die and leave him too.
Robin, laying where the doctor had apparently thrown him, is staring up in shock, hands on Drake’s forearms where he’s pressing at some imaginary wound.
“Don’t die, Dami. Stay with me! Please stay with me!” Is fairly screamed in the cold night.
And Robin catches his breath at this, this, as one of Drake’s worst fears.
“D-Don’t leave me. I can’t lose you. I-I can’t lose you, too.” Tim weeps, pulling both hands back, staring down at what must see as blood and viscera.
“I am sorry, Timothy,” Robin breathes out hoarsely, frees a hand to pull back, teeth clenched against what he’s about to do, and punches their doctor with real intent.
As he hopes, Tim goes down like a stone, unconscious on the dirty ground, tears still on his face from terror and grief.
In a breath, Robin is on his feet, kneeling over Drake, tapping the comm in his ear. “Hood, N, Father. I have located him. He has been…affected. I am uncertain if the anti-toxin in my belt would do further harm, so I have not administered it as of yet.”
“Rob,” Hood’s response is immediate, “Big Wing’s with Daddy Bat takin’ care a’ the last of ‘em. I’m headin’ atcha now.”
“Meet me at the Black Bird. Hurry,” Robin cuts off, and gently, oh so gently for his normal, lifts Tim’s upper body against his chest, points a gauntlet at the roof to fire the jump line, reel them both in.
At sixteen, the youngest vigilante has nearly outgrown the doctor, and has no trouble lifting Tim up to carry him across the roof, occasionally looking down to make sure Tim is still out.
His own vehicle, the Black Bird, is hidden close to a safe house for the Bats. Balancing Tim in his arms, he taps his utility belt, the container hiding the car folding away.
Hood is on the ground, immediately takes Timmy from Rob, looking at the scrapes on his face.
“In, in!” Robin snaps, shooing Hood in the back with their Doctor. “We must get him to the Cave immediately.”
He dives in the driver’s seat, revving the engine fast, tapping his mask for the whiteouts to slide up. He takes in the immediate area with a glance, and peels out into the night.
Jay deactivates the helmet, tosses it in the front seat, wraps both arms around Timmy in his lap, tapping the comm to listen up at Dickie and B on clean-up whiles he winds up to get all the deets outta the Demon.
“Tell it ta me straight, Lil’ D. How bad wassit?”
He’s looking in the rearview because the kid’s eyes always give him away.
He ain’t prepared to see the Demon blinking rapidly, jaw clenched tight. “He is fully effected. Hallucinations, inability to discern outside voices. I called to him. He was not able to hear me. See me, yes, but he believed I was…dying. He attempted to treat me, asked me not to…”
Robin makes a hard right turn, shoves his foot against the pedal to drift it. He shoves in the clutch, shifts the gears, biting down on his lower lip (“Don’t leave me, I can’t lose you.”).
He evens out, hitting the Robert Kane Bridge to take them out of Gotham proper and closer to the Manor.
“Dames?” Jay makes it soft because the kid is obviously shook.
Robin pushes the car to 105 mph to sail over the bridge.
“His fear was he would be unable to save me. The wound…he believed the wound made by Hush would kill me yet again, I believe.”
Jason Todd breathes in sharply, freeing up a hand to fit at the back of Rob’s neck, make circles with his thumb.
“Sorry that mighta brought ya back.” His tone is low with sympathy, empathy.
And for a moment, Damian Wayne, not Robin, leans back into that hand, lets it ground him while the night flies by the window, while he watches the darkness for everything while he downshifts, when the road starts getting less defined further out of the city they go.
“It is not that,” Damian admits, “one day, one of us, perhaps all of us, will not return. Nothing he can do will prevent that.”
“I know, Baby Bat. Let’s hope it ain’t any day soon, you feel me?” And Jay, tries to keep it gentle, tries to keep the circles going, tries to be easy about it so Baby Bat won’t try ta pull away, put it all back inna box to fester.
“Agreed. However, do not be surprised if he comes to fighting. We must monitor his vitals closely if this toxin is similar to the last batch.”
“I gotcha. S’all right, we’re gonna take care of him, ain’t we?”
Damian makes an affirmative noise and leans forward out of Jay’s grip, pressing the gas, then gearing back up.
**
Tim comes to as the restraints are tightened, Alfred Pennyworth securing several sticky discs to his chest, and a pulse oximeter to his finger.
“We’ll see you soon, Son. Be a good boy while we’re gone.”
Makes his eye fly open wide, his heart slam painfully against his rib cage, his arms jerk where his wrists are restrained.
“Boys,” a cultured voice calls the second his eyes open, but Tim can’t see anything, not with his heart in his throat, not with his Dad’s voice ghosting out after over a decade and a half.
When he glances over, horrified at the tall figure coming closer, hands raised up in surrender, and his eyes were empty, gorey sockets, black sludge from the empty cavity. Purple lips and half-rotting flesh, the last clothes he’d seen his father wearing, his best suit, the one he’d wear to Drake Industries on the stints they were home and Dad worked in the office.
Tatters and grave dirt, bone peeking out from shriveled flesh…
“Dad,” is a broken, hoarse croak, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I tried. I tried to be good,” and the closer his dead, decaying Father gets, the more he fights whatever is keeping him still, won’t let him run for his own fucking sanity, “I tried! I tried and you still didn’t come home! It wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t–!”
He chokes, gags because Dad is right by the bedside, and now Tim can see the inside of his black mouth, the tongue putrid and pale without blood, and the smell–
He’s probably screaming, even if he can’t hear himself.
Something is strapped over his face, and he fights it, knows it’s a plastic mask, pumping something into his lungs, just like the fear toxin.
A turn of the head, and it’s the reversal of his first meeting with-with
The Joker.
Harley isn’t on the table bleeding out this time. It’s the two of them standing over him, a huge needle full of green sludge right by the Joker’s shoulder, right next to his horrifically sick smile.
He’s wearing a mock head lamp and white coat, Tim’s own badge dangling from his pocket. He turns to the smaller figure of Harley, the nurse sidekick with a frightening set of tools. The orbitoclast is brown with old blood and brain matter, the leucotome wire is rusty, the plunger to send that wire into his brain almost black with old gore.
And he fucking chokes.
“Hold on to those, Nurse. If my wonderful formula doesn’t do the trick, then we’ll have options! Huh, huh, huh,” and the bastard leans into him, that sickening smile, those wide, lucid eyes.
“He’s going to be our good boy, one way or the other, isn’t he?” And the dark growl of it, the promise is what makes him start screaming again.
Hands on his straining arms, a big body right by the bed when he turns, flinches away as far as the hold could let him.
“Oh no. No no no,” is a whimper, a plea, “I didn’t say anything to anyone, Mr. Johnson, I swear. I didn’t tell anyone anything.”
The grip on his arms becomes bruising, painful, terrifying all over again.
Tim clamps down, remembers the beatings hadn’t been as bad if he could keep quiet.
“Jesus Christ, you’re such a little shit.”
It’s Mr. Johnson’s words, but Jason’s voice.
“You need a good ass beaten’, kid. That’ll straighten you right out. That’s what all you fuckers need. Lucky for you I don’t mind making sure you keep on the straight and narrow.”
He doesn’t realize he’s chanting, “don’thitme, don’tdon’tdon’t, please please, don’t,” while Mr. Johnson backs off, the old recriminations and reprimands rolling right out in Jay’s smooth baritone.
He’s outright sobbing, arms trembling above his head where he’s trapped, trapped. He can’t move, he can’t run, he can’t hide, he can’t–
And a blink takes him to the same fire escape outside his penthouse where he’d found Nightwing bleeding out, pulse already weakening, breathing shallow–
“What–“
The whiteouts on that domino are up so he can see Nightwing’s blue eyes flutter open weakly, can see the hand move gingerly to the bleeding wound on his abdomen.
“I can help you,” he yells out, hoping to make those eyes look at him, to get the vigilante to come to him, “I can save you, but you’ve got to get here.” This time his hands, his arms, his whole body is straining to get free, to reach the vigilante that needs him, that’s dying on him while he fucking watches.
The vigilante half-smiles at him, finger stripes more dark than blue, and his head goes back, visibly slumping.
“Nightwing, Nightwing, look at me! Open your eyes!” He knows he’s begging, fighting, but there’s bands around his chest, around his wrists, his ankles and thighs.
“I need, I need sutures, gloves, blood bag, and-and, I need, I need–“ but Nightwing’s head flops and his chest stutters, “LOOK AT ME! You can’t die like this, you can’t. I’m right here, I can save you!”
He sobs out loud, whole body jerking to get free.
“Ssshhh, baby doll, ssshhh,” makes him open his eyes even though he can barely see through the tears streaming down his face, his sobbing, his heart pounding copper in the back of his throat.
And there’s Jay, lying on his chest, all soft and sweet, with a post-sex grin. He’s too beautiful to be real.
“Jay?” He croaks.
“Yeah,” all soft and sweet.
Until he tilts his head, and the horrific smile below his chin leaks rich red down his throat.
“J-Jay?!” His eyes go wide and horrified because there’s his vigilante boyfriend bleeding out all over his chest, far gone enough to be silly and loopy with blood loss.
“S’okay, yeah? When s’time, s’time. Don’t gotta be sad about it, Timmy.”
“N-No, no, put-Jay, listen to me, put pressure on it, okay? Put both hands and press down. You-you’re loosing too much blood. I need you to–“
“That ain’t what’s happening here, Timmers.” Slurry and low, Jay’s face getting pale, eyes fluttering. “Like I tol’ ya b’fore. One day…one day I ain’t gonna come back. S’ just gonna be my time.”
And Tim’s shirt is wet with it, Jay’s blood staining him, soaking through his clothes, the weight of his big body heavier as his strength goes, as his eyes get dimmer, the jade flecks all but gone.
“You can’t. Jay, babe, you can’t. You have to fight. Please fight,” his hands are straining, but he’s so tired, weak, isn’t strong enough to get to them, to save them from their fates. "I don't... I can't be the last one left standing again. I can't. Please, fight. Please!"
'"Nah, Baby. Small right now. Love ya. Love ya s'much."
"I love you too," he sobs, can't breathe, can't think.
(He’s never been strong enough, has he? He’s not strong enough to be what they need.)
He finally can’t fight anymore, just stays pinned under Jay’s weakening body to cry and shake apart.
**
“Do something,” Dick yells, tears running down his face where he’s pinning Tim’s legs down so he stops hurting himself fighting the restraints.
Alfred, eyes narrow and wet-looking, huffs and turns on his heel abruptly. He fishes out supplies from the cabinet, uses a clean hypodermic to puncture the sedative.
Master Jason is staring up at Master Tim’s face, trying to be that boy in the Robin cape from all those years ago. Trying to be strong in the face of such horrors.
“Master Bruce, account for general anesthesia,” Alfred calls briskly and injects carefully into the IV.
“Understood,” the quickly working vigilante calls back from the lab, running the number a second time, darting looks at his children doing one of the hardest jobs he’s ever asked them to do.
He can tell by how Damian’s shoulders are shaking, Dick is opening crying against Tim’s hip, Jay’s lower lip trembling, eyes wet where he’s keeping Tim’s forearms pinned around the IV in his arm.
He add the variables, taking deep breaths, makes mental notes all over the place to look into Tim’s past foster parents.
Johnson. Right.
And the hardened bat can’t say his heart isn’t thundering in his throat watching Tim’s struggle, scream, cry out in grief, trying to use his reasoning and logic, having the fucking Joker of all people as part of his perpetual nightmares…
Bruce takes a calming breath, forces himself to be the Bat while he aches for the kids.
**
Twelve hours later, he comes to somewhere not his Penthouse or Dick’s apartment.
It’s chilly wherever he is, but for some reason his whole body just aches, hurts like he’d been in another damn car wreck or something. It’s too much effort to lift his head and look around, not when he’s pretty sure he’s in Dick’s lap, recognizes the smell of Dick’s jugular.
He hums a little, glad someone at least gave him a blanket because he’s at least mostly warm. His nose is pretty cold, but he just snuggles into Dick’s neck and sighs.
He tries to raise his knees to fold in, get warmer, but his heels bump into legs, and cracking his eyes open, he realizes Jay is sitting by Dick on the floor of the Cave, Tim laying over their laps.
He’s got a cotton ball taped to the inside of his forearm, and no idea why. He blinks a few times, lifts up enough to see Dami on Jay’s other side, head nudged against Jay’s shoulder. A hand is still on Tim’s ankle.
The sudden need to go to the bathroom drives him from their huddle on the cold floor, but at least he spreads the blanket out over them after he manages to pull out of their arms without waking them.
From their faces and expressions, whatever he isn’t immediately remembering couldn’t have been good.
But first, bathroom. Then, maybe coffee? Because that? Would be absolutely stellar at this juncture. Maybe some ibuprofen.
Luckily, there’s swanky digs in the Bat Cave, a set of lockers, showers, nice hot tub for long soaks after a night of kicking bad guy ass.
All the vigilante amenities.
He’s bleary and sore, staggering to the bathroom, noting B is asleep on the big computer, and Alfred sitting back in another chair, tea cup and saucer on the hard drive next to him.
He smiles a little, wonders if he can find a few more blankets somewhere.
A glance in the mirror as he was washing his hands shows him a bunch of road rash city. Man, he must have been caught up in the middle of something again.
Seriously.
He splashes cold water on his face, works out the low throbbing ache of his bandaged wrists.
He’s shuffling back, thinking about just waking everyone the hell up to send people to bed, like themselves because his ass is numb, and there’s warm beds upstairs. When there’s pounding footsteps, skitters, and slides, whoosh of air, and Dick is right there up in his face, panting like he’d just sprinted all the way across the Cave in a quick hurry.
“Timmy?!”
He blinks up, still bleary about everything, his throat and voice wrecked as fuck, “hey honey. How was your night fighting shitty bad guys?”
He has no idea why Dick’s expression crumples, his eyes getting teary out of nowhere. He’s not prepared for Dick to start crying, to see his beautiful boyfriend hold a hand over his eyes and break down.
“Dick? Dick?”
He goes from holding himself, shuddering with the cold and ache in his bones, to up in Dick’s face, hand on his shoulder, looking for some injury, something to tell him how to help–
But Dick takes a few shuddering breaths under his hand, and Tim just wriggles his arms around Dick’s chest to hold on for a few long seconds before he gets full-on octopus hold right around his everything.
(Okay, that’s a relief.)
“…was it bad?” He asks softly, making circles with his palms as wide as Dick’s hold will let him.
“Y-Yes. It was bad. You don’t remember?” Dick sniffles against the side of his head, rocking them both gently.
“Not yet.” He shrugs an unconcerned shoulder. As someone who’s had a concussion (okay, okay, concussions), and has worked in the medical field in one of the most dangerous cities on the fucking planet, he knows there are plenty of bad guys with chemical weapons that don’t always leave short term memories in tact.
Dick shakes a little and holds him tighter.
“Fuckfuckfuck. Didja find 'im??!” As Jay rounds the corner and almost slams right into them.
He skids to a stop as Dick swiftly shifts them around out of the way. Jay doesn’t do anything to dislodge Dick’s grip, but palms the sides of Tim’s face, his eyes a hard, icy blue.
“Hey, Sweets, hey,” low in a dark way, not the usual, fun dark way. Tim has a strike of fear, takes stock of himself, of Dick, of Jay, wonders who else in the Cave might be hurt! That’s why they’re here. Someone got hurt coming after his ass, didn’t they?
“Dami? B?” He interrupts, eyes going from Jay to Dick and back.
“Fine, everyone’s fine,” is curt, short with him in a way that doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t have enough evidence.
“O-kay. You both are fine. B and Dami are fine. Alfred?”
Over his head, his boyfriends exchange a look that is really starting to worry him.
But the next twelve hours are virtually impossible to escape. The sordid details come out once Tim remembers being in that convenience store. He gets snatches of half-lucid memories, probably never will remember the entire things. The brain is the most fascinating part of the body for a reason, not only as the control center, but also as the decision-maker on what things to blot out to protect itself.
By the time Dami starts out, they’ve migrated up to Wayne Manor, parted ways to shower and wash off the night. Dick and Jay bracketing him in, being absurdly gentle, consistent soft touches, fingers wrapping around his, hands on his back, kisses pressed into his hair.
There’s some scrapes on his forearms along with the ones on his face, washed gingerly in the shower where he finally feels warm again. Alfred leaves a special bled of his healing goop and has set out pajamas for all of them before he left, requesting them to please come have breakfast.
Tim’s stomach rumbles while they’re getting dressed, and he’s pretty much picked up, and carried down the massive staircase.
(Ugh, this is after the bridge fiasco all over again.)
But the end result: food and coffee in Wayne Manor, so bonus?
Dami is looking at him like a kicked puppy. A perpetual pissed off kicked puppy, but he tilts his head to the side inquiringly, raising his eyebrows in invitation.
“I found you almost at Sheldon Park,” Dami starts softly, but at least everyone’s eaten first.
He flinches a little when Bruce tells him what he’d said about his Dad. When Alfred tells him about the Joker and Harley Quinn either going to inject him with some crazy sauce or lobotomize him.
(Yup. Pretty horrifying either way.)
Dami tells him about seeing everyone die around him while Dick has a firm hand on his knee under the table, their chairs closer together than necessary. Jason gives no shits keeping his fingers wrapped up tight, squeezing occasionally. Alfred keeps the mug in his free hand full, stands just by Dick’s other shoulder.
“I mean,” he finally starts after everything is out in the open, “it’s literally a toxin that fucks with your brain chemistry. Not shocking I’d see pretty awful things. I see awful things...a lot, so,” he shrugs a little helplessly in the face of the whole family looking utter raw and split open. “I...I’m...sorry, really sorry I worried everyone. I’ll try to stop getting into trouble so much, you know? But, um. It is Gotham.”
The family crowds around him, bringing in rank around the table.
And if he doesn’t have to stay at the Manor for the next week, geeze, and get coddled as fuck by the Batfamily, and get picked up from Mercy General every. single. night. for a while, and get wrapped up against two incredible vigilantes that whisper soft things against his throat, his ear, his mouth, his, well, his everything.
If he doesn’t get Bruce herding him into the study where the fire is burning, and it seems like the Batman is the most patient person ever to let him–let him talk about some of those old pains when he was in the system.
If Alfred literally can not make him eat enough food to be satisfied. Ever. And gives him a side-eye when he starts to push away a plate that has even a bite left.
(Alfred pizza is god-level, and you’ll never convince him otherwise. But if he eats anymore, he’s going to die. Please stop killing him with your tasty love.)
If Dami doesn’t make him watch NatGeo Wild with popcorn and boxes of candy, then grudgingly plays Mario Kart with him until Rainbow Road is like theirs. No questions asked.
If he finally doesn’t go back to his penthouse, breathes in the familiar smells, gets absolutely destroyed in the Best. Possible. Ways for the next five straight hours. If he isn’t a boneless pile of I can’t possibly come again, for the next week at least.
If Baby Bird, Timmers, Sweets, Timmy, and Baby aren’t wrapped around him with arms and sweet kisses pressed to his forehead and hair every time he leaves for work or they leave for patrol.
If he was before this, in the slightest bit uncertain he belongs with them, as part of their family–
–he sure as hell knows better now.
At least that’s one less thing to be afraid of.
**
Note:
In Tim’s fear fueled delusion, the Joker is Alfred, Harley is Dami holding equipment to treat him. His dad was really B taking the blood samples from Alfred to analyze. He’s horrified once he realizes what Tim is seeing.
Mr. Johnson, the abusive foster parent is Jay, which Tim kind of associates because of the accent.
Dying Nightwing is Dick bent over to hold his legs down, and the next switch is really Jay laying over him upper body to keep him from hurting himself more.
(Congrats for making it to the end. *Hands tissue*)
#winter answers#doctor!tim#tim drake#jason todd#dick grayson#read at your own risk#read the warnings#hurt/comfort#fear gas#holy shit tim#you will cry#but it's worth it#my fic#my writing#dickjaytim#damian wayne#alfred pennyworth#cuddle tf out of our boy#bruce wayne
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An Off Day (Nathan Bateman x Reader)
AN OFF DAY
(okay, look. my husband thought he was being funny and said “give me a character and i’ll give you a scenario” and then i snorted laughing and then...well. this happened. set sometime before the events of the movie.)
((shoutout to @anetteaneta for an important bit of info and @tinygaydemonbby for the random chat and another key bit.))
Word Count: 2100(ish)
Summary: It’s your day off and you’re just trying to enjoy it. Nathan is working and he’s trying to enjoy it. It doesn’t at all go the way you imagined.
Warnings: Cursing. Banter. Robot sex (not graphic). Personal injury. Innuendo. Propositions. Nudity. Complete and utterly ridiculous trash. Possible typos. Nathan Bateman.
The absolute magnificence of the Alaskan landscape was something that, quite frankly, you were never going to get used to. The trees, tall and majestic, towering over the lush green grass. The river, crisp and pristine, bubbling its way to the immense waterfall that cascaded down the cliff face and eventually made its way into the ever-vast ocean. The bald eagles that would soar from treetop to treetop, even the occasional moose that would make itself known at the edges of the compound and then disappear like ghosts into the forest beyond.
It was otherworldly.
The occasional twig snapped and leaf crunched under your boots as you hiked along your usual trail along the north side of the property. Today’s air felt cool on your cheeks despite the sun overhead; at least it was summer - technically, even if the temperature wasn’t getting much above 60 degrees Fahrenheit these past few weeks - so you had twenty hours of daylight instead of the twenty hours of darkness in winter.
You found your favorite spot on a nearby rock and perched on the smooth surface, tilting your face up to that glorious, shining orb. This really was what you needed right now.
*ding!*
...And that was really what you didn’t need. Definitely not right now, and probably not later either. Speaking of otherworldly.
Your boss was a difficult man, and you had a strange rapport with him that was irritating on a daily professional basis, and to your dismay, increasingly so on a personal level. To be fair, you were the only two humans out here. To also be fair, your boss was kind of annoyingly hot.
You sighed and reached into your pocket, pulling out your phone and glancing at the screen.
God: Where the fuck are you?
God? What the… You were annoyed by the text, but more annoyed by the name. When the hell did that bastard changed his name in your phone? He was insufferable on the best of days, but this was a new low. A new high? You weren’t really sure. Sighing, you shot a text back.
You: It’s my day off.
God: You know that’s not really a thing here right?
You: It is when I need a break from you.
God: I’ll make it up to you.
You: Unless you’re asking me to dinner, I don’t want to hear it.
You groaned. You really didn’t mean to say that.
The little ellipses that showed he was typing back flashed across the screen several times, then stopped. Then popped back up, and stopped again. And just because your boss was your boss, it did it four more times, but still no response.
You shoved your phone back in your jacket pocket and returned your attention to the river, breathing deeply and watching the water swirl around a pile of rocks on the opposite bank.
*ding!*
Dammit.
God: I need you to come back like right now.
You: I’m not gonna sit around and be your Eliza Doolittle today, Nathan.
You weren’t just saying that. Last week, the man had dragged you, literally, into the lab by your elbow and had you repeat vowel sounds and random words extremely phonetically while holding a pulsing orb of glowing blue goo. He claimed it was some kind of brain training. You’d said it wasn’t part of your job description, but honestly, it probably was. You were there to assist, you were there to manage, you were there to occasionally have a satisfyingly intelligent and non-arrogant conversation, and you were mostly there to make sure Nathan Bateman didn’t blow anything up or burn anything down.
That didn’t necessarily mean you liked any of it. Okay, fine, you kind of liked the assisting part and definitely the intelligent conversation part. But it was your day off, and all you wanted to do was not be in the house.
God: What? No, it’s...I just need your help with something.
You: Nathan. It. Is. My. Day. Off. No assistance today. Bother me tomorrow.
God: ...Please?
That gave you pause. Since when did he actually ask for anything politely?
You: Fine. I’m halfway up summit trail, give me like 20.
God: Make it 10.
You: Asshole.
God: And bring a bag of frozen peas.
What the actual hell.
You blinked at the screen twice, turned your phone off completely, and started back towards the house.
*****
You didn’t know why you paid the slightest bit of attention to Nathan’s request, but once in the house, you found yourself in the kitchen, pulling a bag of frosty legumes out of the freezer. With it in hand, you made your way to the lab.
Nathan hadn’t told you where he was, but you knew where to find him. He was always in the lab.
“Okay, I’m back,” you called out as you pushed through the door to Nathan’s inner sanctum. “Now what is so damn important that…”
“Oh thank fuck,” Nathan’s voice called out. “Do you have the stuff?”
You glanced around suspiciously. You couldn’t see him. Until you came around the side of the long table in the middle of the room and found him. Your eyes widened at the sight of Nathan, curled up on the floor in a fetal position, sweating and vaguely shaking.
And totally naked.
He glanced up as he saw your shoes approached and weakly raised his arm and made a grabby hand. “Gimme.”
Tossing the frozen vegetables to him, your mouth opened and closed several times, trying to process the scene. Before you could really take it all in, you watched as Nathan reached over his shoulder, grabbed his discarded t-shirt, and wrapping the icy bag in the shirt, placed it directly on his crotch.
“All right,” you finally got out, “what the actual hell is going on?!”
“Ohhhhh,” Nathan moaned as the cold compress made contact with his skin. “I thought I was gonna die.”
“Why are you naked?” you yelled at him.
“There was a malfunction,” he replied, nonchalant as if you were simply discussing the weather.
You just gaped at him. This was definitely not in your job description.
“A malfunction,” you repeated.
Nathan made a feeble gesture at the table. It was covered in metal parts and wires, screwdrivers and other things you assumed were robotic but couldn’t recognize. He had been working a new body build for the past few days, that much you knew. But now there were metal bits everywhere and Nathan was bare as the day he was born, sprawled in the middle of the floor. Your eyes scanned the table again; the biggest object, in the middle of the mess, looked sort of like...oh, you did not like where this was going. You pinched the bridge of your nose.
“I may have miscalculated the required tension,” Nathan said, still curled up on the floor.
The required...oh hell no.
“Nathan...you know you’re the literally the smartest person I know, and you know I think you’re brilliantly creative and inventive and all that important stuff, but please, please tell me you were not actually doing what I think you were doing,” you muttered.
“I was working!”
“You know I can just check the security footage, right?” you stared him down.
Nathan looked at you over the top of his glasses. “I had to test it and make sure it worked.”
You buried your face in your hands.
“Why does a robot have to have working...parts?!” As soon as you asked, you wished you hadn’t. This idiot genius actually had the nerve to blush. Slightly. He would never admit it, but his ears definitely got pinker than they’d been a few seconds ago.
Nathan sat up suddenly and glared at you, adjusting the ice pack again - thank the heavens - to keep himself covered. “First of all, it’s not a robot, it’s an AI. There’s a big difference. And second of all, we talked about this. The point is to make it as human as possible, so this particular part was necessary.”
The glare you shot back at him could have melted his current loincloth. It was your day off and Nathan couldn’t even leave you be for one whole day without his compulsion to cater to whatever whim was in his head and get under your skin. You dropped into one of the lab chairs.
“So...let me get this straight,” you sighed. God help you. But not the God in your cell phone, because he could go fuck himself. Or get fucked. Whichever.
Suddenly, through your haze of utter exasperation, what you’d just thought clicked into place and you snorted a laugh. Your eyes flashed over to the thing in the middle of the table. It was definitely shaped like a pelvis.
Nathan’s eyes became daggers. “What’s so fuckin’ funny?”
Your eyes went to the thing on the table and to his hands, and then back again. You shook your head, cleared your throat, and tried not to laugh again. It didn’t work. “Sorry. Um. So...what you’re saying is...you got injured because you were...fucking a robot pelvis.”
“I should fire you,” Nathan grumbled.
“And you got injured - from fucking a disembodied robot pelvis -”
“I am so going to fire you.”
“...because it was too...tight?”
“I shouldn’t have asked for your help. I should have just let myself die here, naked and unsatisfied.” He flopped back down.
You couldn’t help yourself any longer. Your laughter rang through the lab, a mixture of actual amusement and horrified reality. You snorted again and that made you laugh harder. Nathan had always joked about making a sex robot. Well, you thought he had been joking, but now, clearly not - and he’d hurt himself in the actual process of trying to make sure it worked. You weren’t a monster, you hoped he wasn’t truly actually injured, but you also took a little satisfaction in knowing karma existed.
After a few minutes, you wiped your eyes and looked down at him. Nathan stared back, but you could see the start of a sheepish smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“I told you I miscalculated the tension. It was fine--”
“Until it wasn’t?” you wheezed.
“--until it cut off all the circulation to my dick.”
You bit your lip. “Nathan Bateman. You literally cockblocked yourself.”
He didn’t respond right away. But then he spoke, at the same moment you noticed the smirk on his face fully bloom and what you’d come to call his “up to some bullshit” look glimmer in his eyes.
“Are you gonna come help me or not?”
“Excuse me?” You were fairly certain your eyebrows could not go any farther up your forehead.
“Well, I’m not in excruciating, unimaginable pain now, and I’d like to make sure my dick isn’t going to fall off. And I didn’t finish. Need a little help here.”
“You want me to--” you stuttered.
“Un-cockblock me,” his wolfish smile broke out fully now.
You hurled a pen at his head. “You really are an asshole.”
“I admit,” he continued, easily dodging your projectile, “this wasn’t what I was expecting for the first time you saw me naked, but I’ll work with what I got.” He started to remove the ice pack.
Another pen went flying his way. “You know, I’m just going to pretend that you’re not about to flash me with your mechanically impaired penis, and that you didn’t just proposition me, and I’m leaving this room now,” you said, standing up and shaking your head.
“Baby, you’re just gonna leave me hanging here?” he grinned, stretching back out on the floor. He folded his hands behind his head. The t-shirt wrapped bag of frozen peas remained - now perched rather proudly, you noted - on his groin.
A vexed growl left your lips as you walked towards the lab door. “Leaving now!”
“Well could you at least toss me my pants?”
You glanced down. Nathan’s sweatpants were balled up behind the lab door. How they’d gotten all the way over here...nope. Nope. You decided that information was entirely unnecessary.
You threw his pants at him and they hit him in the face with a satisfying whump.
“You sure I can’t convince you to help me out here?” Nathan asked serenely from under the fabric.
He couldn’t see the small smile on your face as you walked out the door. Thank god. Or...God. Whatever. The man was a menace.
“Ask me to dinner,” you called over your shoulder.
“I’ll text you,” he called back.
God.
~end~
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𝖲𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗒 𝖢𝖺𝗍 𝖶𝗁𝗈? | 𝖫𝖾𝖾 𝖧𝖺𝖾𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇
PAIRING: lee haechan x reader
GENRE: humor, fluff, haunted house au, friends-to-maybe-more?
WC: 1.2k
NOTES: cursing, horror/scary things 🤡 boo maybe a Halloween drabble in January 🤠?
↳ “Don’t let go. If you do, I think I’ll die.”
✧
You weren’t going. No way. So what if you have to be stuck at home ignoring annoying doorbells from candy deprived kids who just rampaged from door to door? It was way better than going to the highest-rated horror house in the city... right?
“Listen, I’m staying here. I’m not going to scream my brains out and get killed by a clown alright? End of discussion.”
“Come onnn, it’ll be so much fun. The fear is the best part,” Renjun tries to convince you for the nth time. “Who wants to be alone on Halloween?”
You reply with no hesitation. ‘’Me.”
“Y/n,” he groans in frustration, “you’re not gonna die. You can just stick by Haechan’s side, no biggie.”
Renjun’s response causes you to furrow your eyebrows. “Why Haechan?”
“Well, he won’t stop bragging about how fearless he is, so he can protect you... I guess?”
You snort, “Haechan protecting me? Why would he want to do that?”
His eye suddenly twitches, specifically the left one, you note. “Uh- no reason. Hey guys, you ready?” he calls out to the other guys.
“Yeah, did y/n finally change their mind?” Chenle asks.
“Of course. They’re gonna change, and then we’re leaving.” Renjun glares at you with such ferocity that you simply turn and walk to your room to get ready.
✧
You regretted going. Waiting in line was literally torture. The never-ending screams were torture. Everything was torture.
“Guys, I don’t think I can do this anymore. Didn’t you just hear those kids screaming? It literally sounded like they were actually getting murdered.”
“Oh don’t be a baby, it’s gonna be great getting chased by clowns,” Renjun states.
Haechan puffs up his chest. “Or the clowns are gonna be chased by me.” There’s a moment of silence before you speak up again.
“Seriously, how come Jisung wasn’t forced to come and I was?”
“Cause,” Jaemin replies, “He’s a baby. Mine, specifically.”
You roll your eyes, bottom lip jutted out in frustration. “What about me? Am I not a baby?”
“Nah- oh heck no,” Chenle says, head shaking from side to side.
Haechan mutters under his breath, “you can be mine..”
“Ughhhh I’m gonna die, and it’s gonna be all your guys’ fault.” You might’ve tried to escape the line and run away as fast as your legs can take you but there’s always that one person who stops you.
“No, you won’t.” Renjun shoves you toward Haechan, making you stumble into his arms. “Since you think you’re all so strong and mighty, you can take care of them.” You’re too busy grumbling to notice Haechan’s flustered expression.
The line moves up and the horrible feeling in your stomach grows every step closer.
When the group in front of you enters the death house, you tightly clench whoever’s arm is right next to you. “Oh my god, we’re almost in.”
Haechan lets out a strained laugh, weakly attempting to remove your iron grip from his arm.
And then the door opens. You feel the cool air flow out and shiver. Chenle lets out an excited woohoo! and dashes in.
You’re frozen, staring at the darkness emitting from the door until a voice cuts in.
“Come on, y/n. We can do it.” You look up at Haechan, a hand offered in front of you.
And so you take it, entering the haunted house with the rest of the boys.
It isn’t too bad -is what you thought for the first five steps into the house.
It helped that everyone was giggling at all the lame props that didn’t seem so horrifying after all.
Horribly fake decorations? Okay. Bloodied corpse? Ehhh...
Is that a murder chainsaw guy? Goodbye.
You swear it was some weird vase decoration or whatever, but when it stands up and that roaring engine sound comes to life, everyone erupts in screams and scatters throughout the place.
You're not sure where you are, where everyone else is. The house feels so much scarier alone. In total, you’ve been jump scared by three zombies, one skeleton, and a coat hanger.
You’re not even sure how you’ve been moving through this maze of a house. For real, how many doors and hallways have you walked through?
After a creepy girl pops up right in your face, you wail, almost on the verge of tears. There’s no choice but to run away, maybe find someone else or an exit. Where is everyone?
Turning a corner, you bump into something, immediately falling to the ground and shrieking. Wait a second. You may be hearing things, but it sounded like another scream? One was yours for sure, and you’re pretty confident that your voice didn’t suddenly become deeper...?
“Fuck- wait a sec... Oh thank goodness, y/n !!”
Whimpering, you peek an eye open to see a relieved Haechan. It was hard to recognize him, the house being so dark and all.
“W-where’s everyone else?”
He helps you up, not letting go of your hand afterward. “I don’t know... We all lost each other after that creepy chainsaw man.”
You pause. “You know, for someone saying that they were so good at these horror things, you were sure scared to bump into me.”
“W-whatever. I can barely see anything. Come on, let’s stick together. I don’t think I can handle this anymore.”
Slowly, the two of you continue through the house. You never loosen your grip on his hand. you don’t think you physically can.
After a weird clown guy literally comes out the wall(??), the two of you barely make it past, Haechan babbling random useless threats.
You bury your head into his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t let go. If you do, I think I’ll die.”
If you keep saying things like that, I think I’ll be the one to die, Haechan bitterly thinks in his head.
“Haechan... I-I think I see it!” “See what?” “Maybe my eyes are deluding me, but I think that’s the exit? Right?”
You both glance up at the giant EXIT sign in neon green positioned above a door.
It takes a few seconds of studying and squinting before you two share a glance and vigorously push through, tumbling outside back into the normal world.
The sight of the black sky never seemed so reassuring before.
“Y-y/n, we did it!! We escaped that rotten house!!”
Laughing in joy, Haechan picks you up, spinning in circles until you can’t breathe. Maybe it was being in his arms or staring into his sparkling eyes that caused your heart to beat faster.
“GUYS!” Haechan finally sets you down at the outburst. How convenient, the rest of your group basically collapses outside the exit.
“Please- let’s just get the hell outta here. That skeleton seriously moved, I swear. But...how did you guys escape so fast?” Renjun asks, a suspicious glint in his eyes.
You share a smile with Haechan, growing when his hand sneaks around to fit with yours.
“Cause we had the guts to do so.”
“.........was that supposed to be a p-”
“No, y/n. Don’t say anything. Don’t even give him a response.”
Maybe haunted houses were pretty fun. With the right people, of course.
#nct#nct dream#nct 127#haechan#lee haechan#lee donghyuck#nct haechan#haechan x reader#lee haechan x reader#haechan scenarios#haechan imagines#nct x reader#nct 127 x reader#nct dream x reader#nct 127 scenarios#nct dream scenarios#donghyuck scenarios
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Random Wanda Vision Thoughts--
Episode 1: I am an emotional bitch crying at Wanda and Vision saying “i do” at the end of episode 1, like can these babies please catch a break? they just want to be happy.
Also Agnes and the 70′s show mom are my favorite wtf.
STARK TOASTERS I SEE YOU.
WHO IS WATCHING THEM WTF
Episode 2:
Dottie should die, she seems like the type who needs gently run over by a bus
WHO IS IN THE RADIO
Elizabeth Olsen is so cute in this, absolutely adorable
IS THAT DAVID SCHWIMMER PLAYING THE PIANO
Vision is drunk from getting gum in his gears, I’m actually cackling right now.
Tiny bit culty with the “for the children” thing, huh? Yikes
BABY BUMP!
Some creepo decides to get in on their world and Wanda literally went “i think the fuck not, let’s try this again and this time in technicolor”
is that the cop who asked out Ant Man on the radio?
The difference in “sitcom” Wanda who is happy in her world and “real life” Wanda when she realizes something isn’t right is honestly astonishing and Grade A Face Acting. See what happens when they let women do more on screen then walk around in tight clothes with full lips parted in a sexy pout?
Episode 3:
Seventies Vision’s hair is ENDING ME, I can’t even deal with that.
IT HAS TO BE DAVID SCHWIMMER except he looks like “russ” from friends instead of “ross”
Poor Vision is not handling impending fatherhood well
COMIC BOOK NAME DROP BILLY AND TOMMY I LOVE IT
Poor pregnancy fritzing Wanda. DID WANDA JUST GLITCH A TIME ERASE AND NOT MEAN TO? Listen, I did not expect to love them as a couple this much. EW HER WATER BROKE OMG
A STORK
Oh Wanda, poor baby she’s so afraid, I write way too much fan fiction about how all these characters are secretly terrified to go through life alone to be okay with this.
Why did I start crying immediately when the babies were born, I’m too emotional for this. She is so beautiful and Vision is so soft meeting his son as himself, oh my gosh. THE TWIN SCREAMS while the other twin comes omg this is Grade A Sitcom bullshit.
The doctor knows something is Up and so do Herb and Agnes. *don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious*
...have we actually seen Ralph and I’m just blanking on it? WHY DON’T THEY LIKE GERALDINE? WHO IS SHE?
Oh no i’m crying again over pietro and the sokovian lullaby. Don’t let me watch this while I’m PMSing wtf this is torture. GERALDINE KNOWS ABOUT ULTRON
OH SHIT WANDA IS PISSED LOOK AT THAT DANGEROUS LADY. that head tilt is fucking lethal.
I love agnes oh man. I know because of spoilers she’s something of a bad guy? but I love her
WHAT HAPPENED TO GERALDINE OMG DID WANDA KILL HER
Oh no, not dead. Just kicked tf out of the bubble. I just realized the symbol is for Sword. Is this some sort of experiment to keep Wanda contained post Endgame? I should have read more spoilers, I’m fucking confused.
Episode 4: OH HOLY SHIT IT’S MONICA RAMBEAU AND IT’S POST EG SNAP OH MY GOSH SHE HAS NO IDEA SHES BEEN GONE FOR FIVE YEARS MY HEART IS BREAKING MY HEART IS BREAKING I CAN’T TAKE IT
It IS the cop that hit on Ant Man! WHAT DO THEY MEAN WESTVIEW DOESN’T EXIST
Oh it’s Darcy! Damn straight it’s Dr. Lewis. How very shocking, a woman was the one to show a room full of Ridiculous Men what’s going on?
ZOMBIE VISION OH MY GOD “no we can’t” oh man she is starting to CRACK and Vision knows something is wrong OH NO
At this point I should point out that I am 1000% surprised at the quality of the show and 1000% pleasantly surprised by how much I’m enjoying it. The bar for Wanda’s character development was literally subterranean, but this is has been frankly sort of amazing??
Episode 5
Agnes asking about “taking it from the top” WHAT. I love so much the way the characters “break character” it’s so interesting and well done! WHY IS WANDA LYING TO VISION.
WHERE IS RALPH
oh my god the babies are children now?? why isn’t agnes noticing?? THEY’RE SO CUTE I COULD CRY ALL OVER AGAIN
I do not. trust. hayward. Why is he asking about Wandas nickname? Monica knows whats up-- she knows Wanda is grieving and hurting.
THE VISIONS CORPSE WHAT? WHAT IS WANDA DOING OH MY GOD SHE STOLE VISION. Vision has a living will? Don’t you have to be human for that? Are you telling me the woman that loved Vision would straight up ignore his wish to not be turned into a weapon after his death? I have a hard time with this.
Oh no Vision is starting to worry me. He’s onto Agnes, he’s noticing Wanda getting careless...the boys are adorable though. Good on Agnes for not even flinching.
DAMN RIGHT WANDA COULD HAVE TAKEN OUT THANOS LETS HAVE SOME RESPECT PEOPLE. Also, why is Monica being sketchy about Captain Marvel?
EMAIL ALERT EMAIL ALERT “none of it is real.” oh my god what is happening?!?!
“Is this yours?” OH MY GOD. “This will be your only warning” she is so unafraid and I love her for it. I love her accent coming back when she breaks characters LOOK AT HER TURNING ALL THOSE MEN AROUND I LOVE HER.
“Fix the dead” oh my god the shock on her face. The absolute irony of her trying to tell her boys there’s rules when she’s writing the playbook as she goes. Oh my god. “Can’t I?” Jesus, then the credits start rolling because she wants the episode to be over but Vision won’t let her OH MY GOD. My heart is breaking
WHAT DOES IT MEAN SHE DOESN’T KNOW
SHE RECAST PIETRO
Episode 6
OOOOH look at the classic costumes! Pietro is slaying me. I mean, it’s the wrong pietro but its still very funny. The way Vision calls her out and then plays it off is.... spooky. She is fully aware thats not her brother. “Be good.” holy shit.
Look at me not liking Hayward again. “which one is the sassy best friend” i feel like that’s....racist. “don’t use the last five years as an excuse to be a coward” DRAG HIM SIS
Listen Uncle Pietro being a little shit head is my favorite. I use the OG Pietro in my fics but this one is hilarious.
Vision lied about being on duty? Yikes. The one house where people are stuck in a loop? YIKES. Its crazy how everyone is starting to be super aware of Wanda pulling the strings--MAGIC CHILD OMG.
Whats past ellis avenue? Is that the limit of Wanda’s powers? I don’t super understand how Vision has his powers if he’s technically dead. HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT THE AVENGERS ARE she really just gave him enough life to exist just barely. Agnes knows he’s dead so she wasn’t snapped??
Agnes’s witchy laugh while dressed like a witch is legit awesome. We call that FOREEEEEEEEESHADOWING! Oh and there’s Ellis Ave. Got it.
Monica’s blood is changed?? Idk how to feel about Black Character willing to die for White Charaxter? I mean I know Wanda should be Jewish but still. Uncomfortably close to icky tropes but maybe I’m reading too far into it.
YIKES where was she hiding the kids till now? How’d she do all this? “I’m not a stranger or your husband” YIKES.
OH MY GOD DEAD PIETRO
OH MY GOD VISION STAY IN THE BUBBLE SOMEONE SAVE HIM SAVE HIM OMG BILLY CAN HEAR HIS DADDY DYING SAVE HIM
“The people need help” oh Vision you are truly Worthy
She literally expanded her world to save him omg
DARCY WHERED YOU GO geez look at power of this girls mind it’s about damn time we got a glimpse at just how intense her powers are
Season 7
Ok is this like a reality show? Oh man she is GLITCHING.
Oh no it’s just Wanda not Wanda vision cos she feels alone? So sad. She really is losing it isn’t she and not in a “lol how awkward” sortnof way but in that truthful hard to watch way that so many of us feel when we’re at the breaking point
“I actually did bite a kid once” I literally ugly laughed right there
I KNEW I COULDNT TRUST HAYWOOD
It’s so nice to see Darcy used in a real way. Her character was totally wasted in Thor
The way Wandas little interviews get more and more sad :(
Uhhh what does that mean Agnes is quiet on the inside? Again with the Ralph thing. I’m starting to think there’s no Ralph at all??
LOOK AT THIS GIRL WITH HER SPACE ROVER . She’s got that same look of determination her mama had. WHAT IS HAPPENING TO HER WHY ARE HER EYES BLUE
“....soooo Wanda killed me?” I’m ugly laughing again and I shouldn’t be but the comedic delivery is excellent. The whole “office” vibe with the cameras is making an otherwise devastating episode fairly funny
LOOK AT THIS GIRL STANDING UP TO WANDA we love a sharp cheekbones beauty
“Maybe I already am” I mean, I would have loved to hear that post Ultron when for some reason everyone blamed Tony for everything?? But hearing it now is just horrifying and I hate it
Oh vision deciding to go get to his wife is beautiful.
WHERE ARE THE BABIES WHERE ARE THE BOYS OH MY GOD IM FREAKING OUT WHAT BASEMENT THATS NEVER GOOD
Uh hey what the fuck is up with Agness creepy basement of horrors??
AGATHA HARKNESS OH MY GOD
This song is a BOP wtf she deserves an Emmy for this shit
Snoopers gonna snoop what?
Episode 8
Of course it’s Salem, where else would a witch story start
“They simply bent to my power” What a queen
lmaoooo THAT ACCENT COMES AND GOES Agatha really said what we’ve all been thinking
Wait so Wandas power drew Agatha in? I thought maybe Agatha trapped her here?? SHE DOESNT KNOW WHAT WANDA IS
THE BABIES
Oh ouch this trip down memory lane is gonna hurt me isn’t it?
Oh no her mama I’m dying inside send help. The TV sitcoms. Oh my god is this her last memory before her parents died. HELP ME I CANT WATCH THIS
Oh my god, she had powers when she was little?? SHES NOT AN EXPERIMENT???
Listen I generally think telling a story retroactively is lazy writing? Just give us a well developed story the first time?? But this is BRUTAL and brutally well done.
SHE SAW HERSELF IN THE MIND STONE???
Would it have been so difficult for them to give us even a PEEK at this version of wanda vision in CACW? Marvel has the worst habit of just popping up like “oh hey these two love each other all the sudden with no real reason for it” but this is wonderful. So much character development.
Oh listen to this woman begging to be able to bury her husband omg. WAIT SO SHE DIDNT BREAK IN AND TAKE HIM?? WHAT ARE THEY DOING TO VISION?? DID HE PUSH HER INTO THIS PSYCHOTIC BREAK?? HE TOTALLY PLAYED HER INTO RECREATING VISION SHE JUST WANTED CLOSURE. He literally showed her visions dismembered corpse and said “say goodbye” I will kill this dude wtf
“I can’t feel you” guys I have to pause this so I can cry for a minute
“I can’t feel you” and then she leaves. Totally alone in the world. My heart is an empty husk.
Why the house though? Why west view?
OH FUCK ME UP ARE YOU KIDDING ME VISION WAS GOING TO BUILD THEM A HOUSE I CANT TAKE THIS ANYMORE
It’s not even real vision? Just the projection of her broken heart? “Welcome home” I am broken. Physically broken.
CHAOS MAGIC
SCARLET WITCH
I CANNOT
OH MY GOD WHITE VISION??? NO NO NO
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The Neighbour [0.1]
Masterlist
Everything had played out like the rising action in a horror movie. And before the whole world's eyes, life on Earth had slowed to a snail-like crawl. Covid 19 was ravaging through cities and countries faster than a salmonella outbreak at a restaurant even Gordon Ramsay couldn't attempt to save. It was terrifying to watch, and even more terrifying to see work and interaction dry up so quickly. Especially for those who relied on social interaction to stay sane.
Luckily for Remington, he happened to be stuck with his brother when quarantine measures went into full effect.
It was no big deal living with Emerson, if anything, it was relatively more calm with two out of the three of them sharing a space. Sebastian and Larissa were staying well and safe in their own house, popping by now and again at the gate to check in on his little brothers. No doubt, it sucked. The album was pushed back, the tour called off, the only thing keeping the hype for 'The Bastards' release was social media.
At least Remington had comfort in the fact that he wouldn't have to endure this quarantine alone. Living in his own house all by himself, he'd probably drive himself up the wall and find himself hanging off the rafters (literally).
Tuesday morning was bright and warm, as they tended to be in LA. Emerson was sat comfortably at the kitchen table, drinking his usual cup of tea and reading the depressing headlines coming out of the news. Pepper was curled up at his feet, snoring softly and her little marshmallow body rising steadily. The neighbourhood was quiet, it always was, but it was especially tranquil these spring days in April. He simpered sardonically when he read the latest quote from the president, promising that the pandemic would pass come July.
His attention was gripped suddenly when he heard the low squeal of car tires. The youngest brother glanced outside the window, his dark eyes falling over the little blue Waivecar that had pulled up at the opposing apartment complex. Those cars had been coming back and forth for the last four days, with the same girl coming and going. And at night, the apartment facing the house would keep the lights on until two or three in the morning, but she wasn't partying. The most noise this girl made was the hum of her radio drifting out of an open window.
Clearly, whoever she was, she was still in the weeds of moving. Perhaps when she was settled, Emerson would go by and introduce himself, make her feel welcome. Considering how warm the climate was, this particular neighbourhood had a tendency to be quiet cold and private towards neighbours. No doubt many of them weren't a fan of the band and their at home antics.
Emerson was startled when his brother came bounding in, dressed in the same moppy grey sweats he had been practically living in for weeks. Thank goodness he wasn't wearing his heelys this time around; the other day he had crashed into the couch and flipped over onto the cushions, nearly smashing his head on the coffee table.
"The guys will be by in about half an hour," he said. Emerson narrowed his eyes at his older brother.
"He says as we're under strict orders from the state health officials to not see anybody," he murmured.
Remington pouted, running a hand through his evidently growing blonde hair. He pulled up a seat next to his brother, "Hey, you were the one who said it's getting too quiet around here. And besides, it's not like we're coming from opposite counties. Seb lives like four blocks down from us,"
"I'm just getting a little nervous, is all," Emerson shrugged, showing him the article on his tablet, "The numbers are still going up,"
"And they'll keep going up until they find a cure. And while they're doing that, we're going to be in the backyard playing soccer and eating pizza," Remington smiled.
"Who said we're having pizza?"
"I did. I just decided,"
"Maybe I want Mexican? Did you think about that?"
Across the street in the fresh red brick and black-trimmed apartment, three floors up from the ground and in direct line of the sun sat Eva. The twenty-four-year-old literary bachelor sat comfortably at her newly furnished desk, typing away at her laptop that was due for a battery change -- Eva just hadn't found the time to physically take it into the store. On her right she had a lukewarm cup of coffee, on the left her speaker which was softly blasting Tove Lo's new album. All the while, her bony fingers flew over the keyboard, her big stormy blue eyes skimming the words that sprinted across her document.
Eva got by as a writer, not a novelist or a poet, but as a ghost writer. She was hired to write materials for would-be authors and journalists, all of whom either didn't have the drive or commitment to write to the extent Eva did. Surprisingly, she made some pretty good money just off that. And while that work tended to be dry and bleak, Eva had spent her free time writing various fanfictions -- mostly for Hannibal and Criminal Minds. She happened to be quite prolific on Tumblr because of her literary fantasies.
And while her work was often isolating, Eva didn't live alone by any means. She had her pale tabby, Pluto, to keep her company. He was snoozing on the couch, despite how often Eva had trained him not to do that when he was a kitten.
She had just returned from an early morning run from the grocery store -- having learned the hard way that despite the pandemic, people will continue to flock to the stores in droves and it's almost impossible to social distance within them. As if moving out of her old apartment wasn't hard enough, now she had to deal with hastily late movers, jumbled lease agreements, and a pandemic.
In the throws of bittersweet silence, Eva's concentration was broke when a shrill alarm had her nearly jumping out of her seat. It was only her phone, the screen lighting up with a 'Blocked' ID. Eva smiled wickedly and declined the call.
The young writer pushed her rolley chair away from the desk and did a stretch, her head turning towards the house across the street. She figured a couple of frat boys shared the place, they had a few of their friends over from time to time but they were relatively quiet. The most she would hear out of them is some smack talk coming from the backyard.
Pluto's head popped up from the couch, then he leapt onto the floor and trotted over to the window sill, hopping up to spy on the unfamiliar car that was pulling up to the house. Eva could hardly care less. There was a statewide order to see only a small group of people as little as possible, and as long as the neighbours wouldn't bother her, she wouldn't bother them.
It was a shame, as if having to meet new people wasn't difficult enough for her...
A few hours passed and soon the silence in the Los Angeles neighbourhood was broken by the grunts and thwacks of a backyard game of pool basketball. The boys and a few of their friends were all the more engaged in their game while their girls sat aside on deck chairs under the beating sun. Under the shade of the pergola, their friend Andrew was grilling some sausages -- beef and tofu -- on the barbecue.
Remington was taking the piss out of Sebastian for being all over his girl, but who the hell could blame the kid? There was a new rush of life in the guitarist's face whenever the topic of Larissa came up. The same could be said for Emerson and Shy. Remington wouldn't dare admit he was a little jealous of his brothers' happiness, so he'd settle for loving his brothers but torturing them at every opportunity.
Breaking out from the cold water, Emerson gripped tightly to the rubber red ball in his hand. Just as Sebastian came to take a running dive into the pool, he reared the ball back and hucked it at his older brother, nailing him square in the chest. Instead of a graceful dive, Sebastian flailed sideways and crashed into the water. The ball ricocheted onto the deck and bounced away towards the front yard.
"Oh my God!"
"Emerson!" Shy scolded, a little horrified and yet not surprised at her boyfriend's actions. Sebastian broke out of the water and shook his hair out of his eyes. It was more his pride and the laughter of his friends that hurt than the fading sting of rubber against skin.
Emerson meanwhile just giggled happily as he high-fived Remington.
"You guys fucking suck!" Sebastian glowered at the younger boys.
At the same time, Eva had given up on work for the day. As random as it was, she decided she'd try to make bread: the apparent trend that was surging during this quarantine. She bought all the things she would need this morning.
Stepped a few feet into the kitchen, she pushed open the window a brisk breeze flooding in and freshening up the air. Her attention was skewed to the house across the street, hearing some mild echoes of conversation and the thrum of a radio in the air.
She went to gather her ingredients and tools, however, as she turned to fetch an apron she realized something was missing: the patter of feet behind her. Pluto was usually Eva's shadow whenever he was in the kitchen, always the opportunistic cat he was. However, he wasn't on the couch. He wasn't in his bed. He wasn't snooping around in her closet or hiding under the desk.
"Where'd the ball go?" Daniel called, clinging to the ledge of the pool.
"I'll get it" Remington swam to the ladder and pulled himself out of the water. He shook out his sopping blonde hair, unintentionally shaking his ass in his colorful swim trunks. Their friend, Michael, whistled from the pool. Remington only smirked on him.
"Flattery will get you nowhere, hunny," he sassed, waving his hand and ducked off to fetch the ball.
Puzzled, Eva grabbed Pluto's favorite bag of cat treats and shook it, the sound was always able to bring him out -- when he was within ten feet of the treats. The fact that he didn't appear told Eva that he must've gone out the window once again to wreak havoc.
With an irritated huff, she switched out her house slippers for her sandals and hightailed it out with the bag of treats.
The red rubber pool ball had rolled across the grass and lodged itself into a bush at the fence. Remington was awash in frigid goosebumps, not even the California heat could will away the pool's chill quick enough. Nevertheless, he crawled down and retrieved the ball from the brambles, swatting off what little dirt he could. However, his fixation swerved to the complex across the street when he heard a heavy slam.
"Pluto!" a young girl came charging out of the apartment complex, dressed in a slightly wrinkled white t-shirt and her jaw-length hair swivelled smoothly around her face as she frantically looked up and down the street, "Pluto!" she was shaking a little yellow bag.
Remington looked up and down the quiet street, almost expecting to see Pluto the Dog standing at the corner like Cartoon Cat. He glanced down quizzically at the ball, then back at the young woman.
Eva rubbed the stress lines on her forehead out of pure frustration. This wasn't the first time Pluto ran off, he always came back. However, the damn cat would always find ways to stir up trouble; rowling up dogs, plucking fish from little ponds, scratching at hanging laundry.
"Pluto!!" she shook the bag of treats.
"Hey!" Remington called, waving his hand to the stranger, "You alright?"
Eva glanced at the owner of that soft, yet scratchy voice. She hadn't even noticed the bleach blonde kid standing in the glint of the sun. Eva crossed the street and stood a few feet from the gate, keeping more than two meters distance.
"I'm sorry. Have you happen to see a cat running around? He's a pale tabby, couple black stripes, likes to chew shoes," she shrugged.
Remington only shook his head, "Sorry. I'm afraid not," he smiled sheepishly, "Did -- did you say he was a cat?"
"Yeah,"
"And you named your cat 'Pluto'? Like -- the dog?"
Eva smirked, but shook her head, unable to help but glance at the tattoos that crossed over this boy's torso, "He's named after The Black Cat," she said, "You ever read Edgar Allan Poe?"
Remington smiled sheepishly, "Oh right, right! I haven't read that in a while, actually. He named the cat after the Roman God for death,"
Eva smiled pleasantly, not having pegged this boy to know so much about EAP, "That's right. I wanted a black cat to fit with the theme but the damn tabby stole my heart,"
"He knew what he was doing, obviously," Remington grinned, "I'll keep an eye for him though, if I happen to --" he was cut short however when he heard Pepper start yapping from the backyard. The yapping was followed by the clanging of metal and a screeching yrowl.
"What the fuck?" Andrew suddenly shouted, “Where’d this cat come from!?”
Panic flooded over Eva's face and Remington didn't think twice to open the gate and let her in. Social distancing aside, they two of them rushed into the backyard to find a tray of sausages had crashed onto the floor, the meat had rolled everywhere. Shy clung to Pepper as the little pomeranien yapped and growled incessantly at the scruffy tabby on the patio table, back arched and hissing at the dog while he guarded his captured sausage.
Eva was understandably horrified.
"What the hell happened here?" Remington asked, just as in shock over the mess.
"Cat came out of nowhere and dive bombed our lunch!" Daniel replied, having just crawled out of the pool.
"Pluto!" Eva ran to the table and scooped up the snarling cat, Pepper was still yapping away, "What is the matter with you?" she scolded at Pluto before turning to Remington and Andrew, who still wielded the metal tongs in his hand, "I am so frickin' sorry!"
"No, no, it's okay," Andrew shook his head, glancing at the lost sausages longingly, "I was kind of craving sushi, anyways,"
"It's no big deal, honestly," Remington assured her, "Five second rule applies, I'm sure,"
"It's been about thirty-seven seconds," Sebastian spoke flatly.
"Since when were you counting?"
Larissa was the only one who didn't seem annoyed or surprised at the feline intruder. She smiled warmly at the young girl, "Is this your cat?"
"Unfortunately," Eva grinned sheepishly, "I should know better. He's in a new area and he tends to get into trouble. Also, if anyone happens to lose a shoe, he did it, and I'm apologizing in advance," she pointed a finger at the now calmed tabby.
Shy smiled, "Well, Pepper's no better. She tends to think she's a way bigger dog," she held up and coddled the fluffy pomeranian. Eva smiled awkwardly, only now noting that she forgot to grab a face mask. And here she was: in a backyard full of strangers in a pandemic.
"Wait, I recognize you," Emerson said, "You just moved across the street, right?"
"Yeah, that's me. Eva," she nodded, "Great first impression, right?"
"You couldn't do any worse than Curcio over here," Sebastian grinned, "Remember the split pants?"
"You're going to hang that over my head for the rest of my life, aren't you?" Daniel glowered.
"Maybe," Emerson turned back to Eva, "I'm Emerson, that's Sebastian, Daniel, Larissa, Michael, Shy, Andrew... and you've already met Remington, I see,"
"The best looking one," Remington grinned.
Eva nodded, "Well, it was very nice meeting you all, I should get going, though. And again, I'm so sorry about the cat,"
Remington shrugged, "It's just sausages. We can get more," he assured her, "Here, I'll walk you out,"
"Thanks," Eva smiled, keeping Pluto close to her chest as she passed Shy and Pepper. Pepper gave one last fleeting bark as the cat passed by. Pluto simply licked his lips.
Michael couldn't help but lean over as he caught one last glance at the new neighbour, then turning to Emerson, "How come you get the pretty neighbour?"
The drummer shrugged, reaching over to grab the rubber ball that Remington dropped at the end of the pool, "Dumb luck?"
#palaye royale#Palaye Royale imagine#Palaye Royale fic#remington leith#Remington Leith imagine#emerson barrett#sebastian danzig#boy bands#band imagines#band imagine blog#original story#original female character
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Shadow Of You | 2
Pairing: Seokjin x Jungkook
Summary: Alpha Seokjin is sixteen when his best friend’s baby brother is born. When he finally gets to visit and meet the new baby Jungkook, he’s dismayed to discover the infant is his true mate. Or: Seokjin and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Long Wait For His Mate.
Seokjin bounded down the stairs of his family’s entirely too large house with his backpack slung off one shoulder. His hair was still damp as he’d rushed through getting ready and his clothes were thrown on without a thought. He hadn’t even had enough time to finish up his homework this morning like he’d been hoping.
“Where do you think you’re going without breakfast?”
He grinned sheepishly at the old housekeeper as he stuffed his feet into his shoes.
“Sorry, Yeona. I’m going to be late as it is.”
She sighs and offers up an apple she had in her apron, obviously having expected such an answer.
“At least eat this. It should tide you over until your first break. And stop staying up so late. You look thin and ragged. Do I have to move in to make you behave?”
Seokjin chuckles, having heard the same threat since he was a young boy.
“But Yeona, I have to study well so I become a doctor someday and can steal you away!”
“Oh, off with you. Have a good day. I’ll make your favorite for dinner tonight, alright?”
He cheekily saluted her and munched on the apple as he rushed to his car, finishing the fruit in just a few bites and throwing the core in a random bush for the gardener to find later. His poor stomach wasn��t happy with just a few bites of fruit, but hopefully, it would hold off until he had a chance to sneak off the grounds and get himself a real meal.
His phone was already rumbling with a barrage of messages, probably from Hoseok complaining that he’d had to walk to school since he’d never showed. He felt bad, but he’d hadn’t even been sure he was going to go to school today since he was just coming off of the most horrible rut in his life - never mind that it had only been his second.
After the life-changing visit to the Min household, Seokjin had rushed home, expecting to shut himself in his room to think about things. However, his body had decided to take matters into its own hands and he’d been horrified to feel himself going into his second rut - three months too early.
For once he’d been thrilled about the fact that Yeona had the weekends off and that his parents were at an event in Jeju. While it probably would have been safer to have someone around to check on him, he was glad he hadn’t had to explain why he was in so much agony. Why he refused to touch himself - instead curling up and sobbing as his body wracked with pain.
As someone who actually paid attention during his science classes due to his future career, he knew that it was simply his body's way of preparing itself since he’d found his mate. And since there was no mate around to sate him, his body increased its demands and he’d been forced to deal with high fevers, horrible cramping, and vomiting. He probably would have been able to reduce the severity with a couple rounds with his own hand, but it felt horribly wrong considering what had triggered it in the first place.
Jin drives with the radio off for once, the silence forcing him to finally think about his situation. And the honest to God truth was that he had no idea what to do. He’d never heard of anything like this happening before. He didn’t even know how to start looking for the information he needed.
When he was being realistic he’d always thought he’d never even find his true mate. It was becoming a rare thing for anyone these days. He’d pictured his life looking pretty much exactly like his fathers - marry someone his parents picked and work at the hospital until he was forced to retire. If he was lucky like them, he’d at least become friends with his mate and maybe pop out a pup before they start a life of celibacy (hopefully. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know if his parents had others).
Now...what kind of life could he have, always being drawn to something he couldn’t have? Now that he’d scented his true mate, had skin to skin contact as he’d held him in his arms, his body was going to be thoroughly fucked.
The horrible ruts were just going to get worse for at least a couple of years before his body would finally accept the loss. His scent was going to spike enough that he’d probably have to start showering several times a day and practically smother himself in scent masking products.
Worst of all, if he decided to just move on with his life and let his parents assign him a mate, no bite would ever take. He could marry and produce pups just fine, but he’d never be able to officially mate anyone else in the traditional sense. That would be a big deal-breaker for a lot of people.
Even in this modern world, the wolf and their instincts were still held in high regard. Being married without being mated would be looked at as taboo by his family and their circle, right up there with him mating a beta or becoming a janitor.
Jin sighed as he pulled into the school’s parking lot and finds Yoongi standing there with his arms crossed, giving him no chance of escaping unless he drove off and skipped school entirely.
Jin was many things, but a total coward he was not.
He grabbed his bag and slid out of the car, pasting a grin in his face that he hoped would pass for authentic even under the shrewd eyes of Min Yoongi.
“My darling Yoongichi, were you waiting for me? Chivalry isn’t dead!” he says dramatically, heading straight for the school building and ignoring Yoongi’s grumbles as he tries to catch up to him.
“Don’t give me that. I’ve been trying to call you all weekend. What’s going on?”
Jin shrugs, going for nonchalance, even as that subtle fragrance clinging to his friend began to call to him. “I guess all the stress from school got to me. Went into rut early.”
“Really?” Yoongi clucks in sympathy. “That sucks. Wait...weren’t your parents gone? You spent your rut alone?”
Jin waves away his worry. “I was fine. Some mild cramping. Five packets of beef jerky and a few rounds with myself and my Kumi Koda poster and I’m good to go.”
“You’re gross,” Yoongi groans as he pushes past him to open the door to their first class, which happened to be together.
He was incredibly happy to slide into his first period for once, as that teacher was notorious for not allowing talking and making everyone turn in their phones before class. For now, he was free from any more questions and could simply focus on his shitty schoolwork in peace.
Until lunch, that was.
And when it came around, the nerves roiled in his gut but he sat in his usual spot anyway. He watched his friends quietly as they all settled in like a pack of hyenas on a sugar rush. Yoongi settles into the spot right across from him and Jin nearly groans because that scent is still on him. Understandable, considering. Was he ever going to be able to eat strawberries again without thinking about how fucked up his life was?
“What about you, hyung?”
He snapped to attention when Hoseok jabs him with his elbow. “What?”
“We are heading over to shoot hoops at the park then have dinner at Yoongi’s.”
“Oh, ah,” he stammers, scratching the back of his head as he searches for a way out. “I was going to work on my biology project. Really big deal. At least forty percent of my grade, you know?”
“You can do it there,” Yoongi says with a shrug. “Ma has been asking about you, and you know if you make her wait much longer she’ll kidnap you.”
And that was the heart of his dilemma because the Min household was basically his real home, and he longed to be there. Ached for the feeling of belonging and acceptance that the family gave him. But he also knew that all of it would fly away if they learned the truth.
“Besides,” Yoongi continues after swallowing his food (the only one of his friends that actually bothers to do that by the way), “She’s been really worried since last time. She said she had a feeling she knew what was wrong but she wouldn’t tell me. Like having a rut is something to be embarrassed about,” Yoongi scoffs.
Jin’s nerves went wild. Did she know? Mama Min knew? He supposed she had been closer to him at the time so she would have seen his eyes, and he had growled at her but...shit. He was so fucked. She only wanted him to come by so she could warn the destined pervert away from her son.
But...he supposed he should go. Just one last time. One last moment to soak in as much of that feeling of home as he could get before he was banished. And now that the initial imprinting and rut had passed, he’d even be able to look at him without losing his mind. So maybe he’d take the chance to apologize to Jungkook too because he was going to grow up longing for something he couldn’t understand and unable to bond properly all because fate had chosen poorly for him.
He sighed and pushed around the food on his plate. “I’ll go.”
“Great, hyung. Ma will be happy and stop blowing up my phone.” Yoongi smiled gummily at him.
That seemed to be the end of it, as they all went back to eating and talking over each other about video games. Listening to them made Jin feel ancient, despite the fact that just last week he had nothing better to talk about than video games himself.
The rest of the day went by much too quickly. All of his teachers seemed to be in great moods and willing to cut classes early or assign easy work, so there wasn’t much to keep Jin’s mind occupied. He declined to play basketball with the others afterward because he felt the overwhelming urge to go home and get prepared to go to the Min’s.
It wasn’t until he noticed that he was wearing Burberry from head to toe and had spent twenty minutes styling his hair that he realized he’d been primping for his mate. For an infant that would be more likely to vomit or piss on the outfit than admire the cut or pattern. He scoffed aloud, practically hating his wolf at that moment.
“Get used to disappointment, you bastard,” he muttered wryly.
Still the wolf wouldn’t settle. Jin drove with gritted teeth, wondering what his instincts were screaming at him to do now. It wasn’t until he passed a shopping center and he nearly crashed into someone trying to control his arm from turning the wheel that he understood. Shopping? Why the fuck did he want to go shopping?
The urge grew until stopping abruptly, letting Jin’s mind clear.
Oh! The bastard wanted to bring a courting gift. Not in this lifetime, buddy.
He breathed with mingled relief and wariness when he finally pulled into his usual spot at the Min household. He saw all the scooters and skateboards laying in the lawn that meant his friends were already here.
He gulped and climbed out of his car, walking towards the door with an odd sense of deja vu. It was just a few days ago where he made this same journey that changed his life forever.
He stared at the door, suddenly wondering what to do. Normally, he barged in like he had the right to...but did he any more?
The choice was taken from him when Yoongi flings the door open and scowls at him like he’d just grown three heads.
“Why the hell are you just standing there, weirdo? Come in already.”
“Yoongi, be nice!” Came the familiar command from the living room.
“Yes, Ma,” Yoongi grumbled as he closed the door behind Jin and waited for him to take his shoes off.
They walked together towards the living room as Jin tried to control his racing heart. He was so nervous but his wolf finally seemed content with that strawberries and cream scent filling his nose like a balm.
The moment they walked into the living room, Mama Min pierced him with a meaningful look. Then she turned and handed Jungkook to Hoseok.
“Take him into Yoongi’s room and you guys hang out in there for a bit. I just want to check on Jin without you guys hearing a bunch of embarrassing questions.”
They all chuckled, having dealt with the same concern after one of their own cycles. Jin eyed the bundle in Hoseok’s arms warily, both wanting to run from it and to protect it from Hoseok's too loose grip.
“Seokjin,” Mama Min said softly, bringing his attention back to her.
She was...crying? Was she going to kick him out right away then?
She held out her arms and thickened her scent, the comfort and reassurance she was exuding exactly what he’d needed.
“Come here, sweetheart.”
He keened and ran towards her arms, letting her pull him close. She rocked him as he finally cried for the first time since it happened. He could feel the wet droplets as she joined him.
“Oh, you sweet boy. I’m so sorry. So, so sorry,” she crooned, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.
“I’m sorry, Mama. I didn’t do anything. I won’t do anything! I promise!” he cried hysterically, desperate to keep her from ever looking at him with disgust. “I can stay away from him, I will.”
“Oh, darling boy. I know you would never do anything you shouldn’t. I’m just sorry it’s like this,” she said softly, cradling his cheeks to make him look up at her. “I always knew that you were meant to be a part of this family, but this seems like such a high price to pay for it. I wish I could have had him sooner for you.”
“What do I do now?” he asked softly, sniffling.
She sighed and pet his cheek. “I don’t really know, Jinnie. I’ve never heard of this before. I suppose your parents don’t even know about this yet?”
He shook his head. “No. They’re not even home right now.”
Her eyebrow raised in shock. “But...Kim Seokjin! Did you just have a rut all alone in that mausoleum of a house?”
“Uh, yes? Yeona is off weekends and my parents were out of town so I had no choice. BUT! I didn’t do anything! I swear! I just slept a lot and I swear I didn’t think anything bad.”
He clutched at her as he swore, and her eyes softened even as they filled with more tears.
“Hush, sweet thing. This is an...odd and difficult situation, but I like to think I know you well enough to know you’re trying your best. I’m not going to automatically think you’re feeling...things...for an infant. If anything, your alpha should just be feeling super protective of him, and judging by the way you growled at me last time, I think it’s safe to say you are.”
He cleared his throat with embarrassment. “Sorry about that.”
She waved it away. “It’s alright. You can’t help it.”
The conversation lulled to silence after a few moments, with him simply enjoying the way she was petting his hair.
“Mama Min?” he finally asked softly.
“Yes?”
“Should I...um...do you want me to stop coming by now?”
She sighed and tilted his chin up to face her.
“No. You are always welcome here, sweetheart. Always. I trust that not only will you be able to control yourself, but that I will be able to be a fair judge of whatever is going on.”
She waited until he nodded in acknowledgment. “However, if at any time it becomes too hard for you to be here, know that we understand and will love you no matter what you decide. If you think it’s better to stay away, that’s fine. I’ll still expect you to write, call, send a pigeon. Whatever. We won’t be upset if you decide to find a mate your own age and move on with your life. You deserve to. No one will judge you for not waiting for eighteen years for a mate. That’s unrealistic and unfair.”
He nods and looks down. “Does Yoongi know? He’ll be pissed.”
“Not yet. I’ll tell him tonight after you all leave. I think he’ll take it better one on one. But you know him. He’ll take the night to process it and then he’ll be angry at you for two days because you thought he’d get mad at you, not because of the situation.”
That much was true, he supposed.
“Alright,” she said with gusto, pecking him one last time on the head. “Go round the hooligans. Dinner will be done in a moment.”
He jumped up, feeling lighter than he had in days. His life still royally sucked, but at least for the time being he still had his home.
“Everything okay?” Yoongi asked the moment he flung open the bedroom door.
They were all gathered in a little circle in front of Yoongi’s bed, with Hoseok sitting on top of it. He was bouncing and singing something entirely inappropriate for a child.
“Yeah. It’s cool. Dinner’s almost done.”
“Finally!” Namjoon huffed, his stomach rumbling loudly to agree.
“Here!” Hoseok huffed and shoved the bundle towards him. Jin accepted it without thinking.
He looked down and locked eyes again with the creature that had so changed his life. His wolf quieted almost instantly, finally content to be in the general vicinity of its mate. The others shuffled out of the room and he barely noticed, so enthralled he was by the eyes blinking up at him. The baby was so quiet. Aren’t they supposed to be loud?
And...he supposed as far as infants went he was decent looking. Didn’t look like a potato like some infants he’d seen. His eyes were larger than the rest of the Min’s, and his nose seemed a bit longer. Maybe it was just a baby thing and he had to grow into himself.
All he knew was that he was very glad that all he scented was strawberries and pup, and it just made him protective. He didn’t feel any crazy urges or have bad thoughts - he simply wanted to make sure this pup was safe and happy.
Huh , he could live with that.
“Well, how’d I do?”
He looked up to find Mama Min watching him from the doorway, leaning against it and smiling softly.
“He’s only seven weeks old and already makes Yoongi look like a gremlin,” he scoffed playfully, standing up.
She laughs and holds out her arms. “He is a pretty one. Yoongi’s not so bad either when he sleeps more than four hours and showers.”
He hesitates, his wolf unwilling to release the pup now that he had it. But no, he was more than instincts. He thrust Jungkook towards her and pretended that his wolf wasn't howling against the loss.
Who else would he be safer with than his own mother, you bastard? He growled to himself.
When they gathered for dinner it was the usual chaos. Everyone was screaming and talking over each other, tons of laughter and teasing. Amazing food and even better friends.
Maybe I can keep this, he thought to himself. He smiled hopefully as he observed everyone he cared about sitting around him. Maybe things don’t have to change too much. Jungkook will just be another friend. Eventually. When he learns to talk that is. I can keep on with the plan.
Nothing will change.
#bts#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#fanfiction#alpha seokjin#omega jungkook#jinkook#bts scenarios#mxm#solastia#omegaverse#shadow of you
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