#im never drawing furniture again what the fuck was i thinking
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#im never drawing furniture again what the fuck was i thinking#furry art#anthro art#weirdfur#enjoy my terrible handwriting#which remains terrible despite filling untold numbers of journals with manuscript#terato#boots & hawthorn#they get a little tag now
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oh dude dude what do you MEAN "sorry guys who are looking for delicious Courtship/Restart goodies"
I LOVE DEPRESSION QUEST, and i love the fact that theres someone else out there that has a runaway narinder AU
the idea of a completely power hungry lamb who disregards narinder as a person is so uncommon, i dont think ive actually seen that dynamic played out in a story/hc tbh ???
so i am LIVING for this, it truly is the spice of life
n like letting him runaway n waits for him to come crawling back??? absolutely maliciously delicious content
but nARINDER
OH NARINDER
angry, break down, self imploding beloved!!!
again there isnt enough completely broken down ISOLATED(emotionally) conceded narinders, so many au's have him conceded, but they always including the lamb trying to get him comfortable and okay, never narinder just being tolerated and treated like property or a trophy
and i love that fucked up dynamic
i'd really love to know more abt baal and ayms place in the cult too, are they like mini trophies ? or are they just "eh another follower"
either way the idea of narinder self imploding to the point of complete isolation (running away) is such a good idea, im living for it !!!
and the idea of a ratoo & narinder friendship from this has consumed my brain greatly, i love that idea
i actually had a brain wave pic pop up in my brain, so i'll draw fanart of this AU later bc i adore it
WHOA I was at work and I was like "I got an aaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" oh man I'm glad you really like the idea! I think I did see some fics like this (well not Narinder dips fics)
I will let you know that these qs making me go "wait hm this would fit into the AU better than my original ideas" so please bear with me!! at any rate omg aw thank you for loving these idees maybe I should just masterpost and mark spoilers for whatever comes to mind here also this is gonna be a long answer post pardon me
so spoilers for Depression Quest and Courtship I guess?
also trigger warning: depression, thoughts of self harm, mentions of mental breakdown
So this is me not reading cotl shit in like, literally months in order to try to preserve my headcanonideas like a loser but damn whoaaa I'm happy that you really like this AU
The initial idea actually did have just plain old Lamb being all okay bb i'll be here waiting for you when you ready I won't push you, I'll let you run away and live your life bb just want you to be happy uwu like they did want Narinder to love them back but they were fine with just making him happy and brought back the Bishops and stuff so they could reconcile but as said before, things didn't seem the same for them
Then as Courtship took form I kind of moved those kinds of feelings Lamb had to the new AU and really honestly removed them from the equation because I wanted to focus on Narinder and Getting Over It™ and just living his own fucking life instead
What did remain was Narinder's complete and absolute breakdown when he locks himself into the house they built for him and his eventual escape. Like goddamn, I was like this man needs to break
The amount of broken furniture, crying and screaming onto the floor and bed, throwing items at whoever manages to get into the house, laying down and staring at the ceiling in a catatonic state, etc
I liked the idea of him meeting other people and them remarking on his fallen status or having to hide his identity when interacting or going to public places and it's pretty much how I came up with the Ratoo encounter/friendship
Imagine Kudaai laughing when he requests a scythe and giving him the smallest, lightest one for his weak upper extremities
addendum: like after escaping he does get better like he runs into kudaai and gets scythe at least but he still sucks since his hands/arms more likely to spaz more when he exerts himself too much (aka combat)
Imagine Narinder trying to stay inconspicuous when he goes to Plimbo's stall at the Lighthouse, etc
Once the idea of resurrecting the Bishops came up around the time I started writing Courtship I kind of went, tbh Lamb would only do that to get Narinder back and then that idea of the Lamb just stuck
The Lamb knew where he was the entire time. The Lamb let him think he was finally free from them. The Lamb decided to uproot his life when he thought he finally found peace (by reintroducing his siblings) and from there the Lamb became the kind of famous hero/whatever who would 100% use Narinder as a trophy SO and show them off while he feels awful and drinks every night to cope
i'd really love to know more abt baal and ayms place in the cult too, are they like mini trophies ? or are they just "eh another follower"
So initial idea was that Baal and Aym weren't crazy about it but came around after Lamb invited Forneus for a visit, then they would be like yes Master should see how good Lamb is
Now thinking it over, it could have a good twist to it:
Baal and Aym think that Narinder should come around because Lamb is a good person and his life would improve
In this, his guardians become his jailers. They've become the ones most actively working for his "rehabilitation", and Narinder hates it because he knows it's another way for the Lamb to break him. He's thinking that it's their mortality that made them cave so easily.
Once Narinder makes it out, they want to make their presence known once they find him, but Lamb explicitly commands them not to until they say it's time. So they go and check on him and obvs this is stwess for Narinder since he feels like he's being watched
Still though, Depression Quest is more Narinder-based than Narinder/Lamb relationship-based because it's him trying to live in a new Lamb-ruled world while trying not to show off his shitty power level or something, Lamb didn't really pull up much once he gets out except for really sending Baal and Aym to keep tabs on him and maybe probably when the Bishops are resurrected but even then it's just like... there's still this kind of sad underlying everything.
So fun fact: a few of Courtship's ideas originated in Depression Quest! Such as the shared love for gardening/camellias by Leshy and Narinder, and the relationship/dynamic between Kallamar and Narinder. I don't know why but their relationship felt fucking devastating once I came up with it hence why I think Chapter 9/Kallamar's quest in Courtship has been my favorite to read and write so far.
Courtship and Depression Quest do share quite a few things, so I'm worried I might echo too much of the same shit should I actually come to write it. While writing out this answer I posted an unedited bit on a prototype for Leshy quest and you may see some parallels to the one for Courtship :o
the idea of a ratoo & narinder friendship from this has consumed my brain greatly, i love that idea i actually had a brain wave pic pop up in my brain, so i'll draw fanart of this AU later bc i adore it
pls show me when you done I want it I'm so glad you like it and yes Ratoo and Narinder friendship is one and only
I think there was more but it's like 2am and I have to wake up in like 3 hours and I think I should just do a fucking masterpost on these AUs
#cult of the lamb#cotl#fanfic notes#cotl courtship#cotl depression quest#tw depression#cw depression#tw self destructive behavior#cw self destruction#i spent too long writing this answer#i want to write#i want to doodle#i want to ideas...#i need to sleep
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Chapter 7
Y/n has always been a faceless girl, faceless as in she will never do or be anything significant. She had decided to be nothing more than a shadow and stay out of everyone's way and have a peaceful first year of college. How will she handle the one and only Ran Haitani who seems to be obsessed with her?
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⚠️ WARNING⚠️ this series will be labeled as NSFW, therefore no minors can interact. There will also be slight bullying, mentions of death and murder (possibly very descriptive), drugs, underaged drinking (everyone is over 18+), manipulation, kidnapping, and yandere tendencies. Please be warned and proceed with caution.
The night sky looked so pretty shooting through the large windows of Ran's condo, stars illuminating his already well lit building. A peaceful evening if he could ignore the whines and grunts that comes out of his co-workers' mouths as they groan in pain.
Ran had a soft smile spread across his face as he stared at his phone, a barely audible laugh left his mouth. One that no one should’ve been able to hear unless they are practically breathing down your neck.
“Is that the girl you wanted me to find?” A voice spoke behind Ran as he leaned over the back of the couch reading the messages between the two of you. The one and only Sanzu, resident drug addict and psychopath. Ran’s hand palmed Sanzu’s face pushing him away while holding his phone to his chest.
“Mind your business— And stop getting blood everywhere! I just cleaned this place.” He yelled out to not only Sanzu Harychiyo but the rest of the injured men who were in his condo.
“You cleaning? Ha!” The man winced as a needle and thread pierced his skin, Kakucho’s laughter died down as Kokonoi Hajime to his wounds in the most aggressive way possible. “That shit hurts!” He cried out as the man paid no attention to his whines.
“Maybe your dumbass shouldn’t have brought fists to a shoot out.” Akashi Takeomi took a long draw of his cigarette as he shot a glare to Kakucho.
“Well, if Rindou didn’t piss them off we wouldn’t have been in this situation.” He scoffed sending a look to Rindou who had just came back into the room with another first aid kit.
“Don’t put that shit on me, if Kokonoi did his fucking job we wouldn’t be here.” He slammed the first aid kit on the kitchen counter right next to Kokonoi before heading to the fridge.
“The hell? That’s not my responsibility dumbass, your brother was put in charge of the meeting. Not me.” He flipped off Rindou before going back to tending to his co-worker’s wound. Everybody shot a glare at Ran who was about to engage in a pillow fight with Sanzu, Ran dropped his pillow when he realized all eyes were on him.
“What? Oophm—” His words were cut off when Sanzu took the opportunity to throw a pillow dead center in Ran’s face. As the pillow slid down his face the look of anger and revenge was revealed.
“You pink little bitch…” He growled out, he reached in his pocket and pulled out his baton, “I hope you don’t mind having one less sibling Takeomi.” A sinister smile spread across his face as his baton stood with full attention, ready to face off with Sanzu.
“Oh? Round two?” A matching grin was on Sanzu’s face as he pulled out his firearm, “Still haven’t got you back from hitting me in the face with that thing.” He held his gun up pointing it directly at Ran’s forehead, “Let’s see if your plastic baton beats my trusty gun.”
“Stop being fucking idiots.” Takeomi spoke, clearly tired of their antics more-so tired of Ran than Sanzu. “This is the second time you’ve been distracted. Kakucho could’ve died.”
“Is that a bad thing?” With a cocked eyebrow he joked with staring directly at the man in question only to get flipped off. “Im kidding, of course it would be bad, I think.” Ran muttered the last part as he found comfort in his couch again, leaning on the arm of the furniture as his legs spread out.
“It won’t happen again. Pinky promise.” With closed eyes he raised his fist with his pinky out in the direction with Takeomi.
“He’s too busy being pussy-whipped to focus.” Sanzu blurted out before snatching Ran’s phone from the couch. Before Ran could even get up Sanzu was reading the messages between the two of you as he tried to emulate Ran’s voice but in a mocking tone.
“Little dove, the fuck type of nickname is that?” Kakucho spoke as Sanzu threw the phone to him to read. Now Rindou, Takeomi, and Kokonoi we’re reading the messages for themselves.
“Jesus, this is how you get women?” Rindou fake gagged as he turned his head away from the phone, completely disgusted.
“Give me that.” Ran snatched his phone away from his snooping co-workers.
“She’s the reason for your absent mind?” Kokonoi spoke up in confusion.
“No, not even close.” Ran sighed denying his accusations.
“Liar! You even asked me to find her address!” Sanzu yelled out, airing out all of Ran’s dirty laundry.
“So what? You’re a stalker now?” Rindou looked at his brother with one side of his lip raised in disgust with furrowed brows. The rest of his co-workers had a similar face.
“No, just wanted to make sure she didn’t die or anything.” He glared at Sanzu who had a face of content now that everyone was ganging on him.
“Don’t mix up your personal life and your love life, the moment you do, we’ll kill you.” Takeomi spoke with daggers, not pulling any punches.
“Good to know.” Ran grumbled before throwing a pillow at Sanzu which he successfully dodged.
He knows Takeomi is right, he’s not one to mess up twice. Hell, not even once. He should’ve dropped you the first time his mind was clouded with the thought of you, it’s dangerous. But since when does Ran Haitani back away from danger?
That’s why Akashi’s threat went through one ear and out the other, it’s not as if he could kill him anyways. Only person capable of that was Mikey and his dear brother Rindou. All he has to do is make sure he doesn’t get caught, that’s easy.
There’s no reason he can’t have his cake and eat it too.
♡Taglist (open!)♡ @beidouluvr @axlongchamp @rinrinfoxy @konigasaki @yeehawnana @q-the-rockaholic @botensucker @paulmccartneysleftasscheek @st4rryhae @m4yam0 @red-clouds @kusuinko @ikissbaal @haitanihime @bajitorasprincess @lagrimasdeglitter (Please tell me if I forgot to tag you)
Ppst~ This story belongs to me, please don't post anywhere else without permission first. That's illegal ⚖️ Reposts are okay!
Pls I struggled to write this one, mostly cause I don't know if I want this to be a long series or a short one 😕 should've planned this before hand but yolo 🥱
#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers smut#fluff#tokyo revengers smau#ran haitani x y/n#haitani ran headcanons#ran smut#ran x reader#ran haitani#tokyo revengers crack#dull#dull series
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Henry finding his Little hiding in the master closet, crying her eyes out because she misunderstood him saying he wanted a new Little.
Oh sweet jesus! I have to admit this was good practice, im not one for angsty stuff but this turned out okay i think? I hope you like it
Warnings: DDLG, Angst, Fluff, Swearing, Tantrums
You hid on the stairs, standing on them so your eye were level with the floor of the landing.
Things were different since you come back home.
You'd been visiting your parents for two weeks to help out, they had moved to France inspired by the chateau renovations so packed up and moved into a huge castle like home.
Renovating was harder then they expected and needed some extra hands so you decided to help them out.
Its the least you can do when they were going to let you and henry get married there for free.
But then another lockdown came and you had to return home four days early, but it couldn't be helped, your parents sent you packing not wanting you to be stranded in France for months on end.
Henry had been too busy to come, saying he needed to stay home and sort out a few important things.
You'd been home just over a day and had noticed the house was different.
Well not the whole house, but there was no trace of any of your little things anymore.
Henry was busy running about the place chasing up phone calls and deliveries, he said he was late and still had too much to do and that he was sorry then locked himself in the office.
With brings you to now, alone confused and upset. So you decided to go and cuddle up in your nursery and wait out what ever had your daddy occupied.
Slowly you tip toed past the office hearing henry raise his voice growling a little.
You would have stopped and asked him if he was okay, but he got mad when you eavesdropped, it usually landed you on the naughty step.
You passed the office's cracked open door with ease, it'd be best to ask later. Besides the office wasn't a nice place, it was boring and you only ended up in there if you were bad and about to be spanked real bad! Its where your cane lived.
You scrunched your nose as you got closer to the nursery, the smell of paint and sawdust filling your nose. It was an awful stink!
Still you pressed forward stepping into the room.
You froze and suddenly felt sick to your stomach.
The room was bare, your toys and stuffies all packed in boxes in the corner.
Your crib was gone, the blanket fort, changing table everything!
The walls were now a pale seafoam green with sea otter stickers on them, tall seaweed stickers dotted about the room.
This wasn't your room! This wasn't your nursey!
You gasped panicking looking around feeling your tummy drop and twist, a lump in your throat.
They pink princess blinds gone, your drawings no where to be found.
There was nothing of yours in here! Nothing at all.
You crumpled to the floor as you spied the wall that once held your name in cute cursive stickers on it. They too were gone, removed and the wall painted over.
You shook your head trembling, you hadn't come in here yesterday, you'd come home and gone straight to bed you were tired it'd been hell getting home.
You stepped backwards out of the forign room on the verge of tears.
You sniffled rubbing your eyes and padded down the hall again unsure what all this meant.
"Yes... Yes I know-No of course I haven't told her!.... Yes I know change is hard for littles but she'll be okay, once I explain things she will be fine, she's a tough cookie" henry huffed down the phone irritated. You crept closer to the door and listened closer, perhaps spying with once will help reassure you. Because this must be a misunderstanding.
"yes well I want to move on, everytime I go in there... Its not her room never has been they are two completely different littles both in age and personality, I didn't- I never changed it until now... Honestly I'm sick of the sight of it, we all need a fresh start once in a while" henry explained with a sharp bite to his words.
You froze on the spot, two different littles? He had two? You didn't know that.
Your heart pulled painfully in your chest as you got an image of a faceless yet beautiful 'proper little' who liked nappies and bottles!
You bit your lip and shifted trying to hear more clearly, because this didn't seem right, you couldn't belive
"I was hoping to have it done before she got back and sort of ease her into it on the way home but then the lockdown.... Yes well I just think of this as a new start- like having a brand new little... I'm excited to begin again! This time its for real and I'm pouring everything I can into it..."
"I really do love her, so so much and this is it for me. I've tried so hard to make this happen but now.. I don't want to upset her but we need this, its been a year now and.. I don't know maybe I'm selfish but I want this to be my littles room, my true little girls home you know? Not the other one"
"so do you think it'll be here today? I'll send y/n out with Kal when you bring it round, no point having a little misunderstanding before i can explain things properly, yes okay.. Okay i will see you this afternoon, bye"
You covered your mouth at the way his voice picked up, he was happy... And he was replacing you.
You jumped up running down the hall trying not to let him hear you crying.
You found yourself in the closet sobbing your heart out cursing him as you curled up in the corner shutting the door behind you with a loud slam.
Not that you cared, you were far to upset, slowly pawing at your clothes tugging them off the hangers.
You watched through blurry eyes as your hands tugged and bundled the clothes wiping your face on them as you tried to pull yourself together and pack your stuff knowing you would be sent on your way very soon.
You bawling was halted as the closet door was ripped open a panicked henry standing there panting, clearly he had been running.
"oh-god baby what's wrong?! What's happened princess-"
"NO! NO YOU DON'T- LE-LEAVE ME ALONE!" you shouted at him sobbing your heart out.
Henry frowned at your anger and despair. Then crouched down in front of you.
"baby what's wrong love? I got here as fast as I could- are you hurt? Why are you so upset babygirl?" he pleaded wide worried eyes looking you over trying to see what had made you cry so bad.
"N-NO YOU JUST-FUCK OFF YOUR NOT MY DADDY! YOUR NO'MY DADDY! YOUR A LIAR AND BAD-IM GOING HOME- GONNA GO TO FRANC WITH MUMMAND DAD AND-AND LIVE IN A CATLE AND FIND A REAL PRNCE-" you screamed at him sobbing louder.
Henry frowned and tried you coax you out of the closet unsure what the hell had gotten into you, it wasn't like you to throw such a tantrum.
"hey nugget that's not very nice baby, here come here and lets talk-" he spoke hurt and upset as his hands moved to tug you out of the closet.
You growled and snapped your teeth at him and began smacking him aiming for his, hands face, legs anything you could reach wanting him to leave you alone.
"HEY! Whoa what the hell is wrong with you young lady? Now you get your butt out here now!" henry snapped managing to capture your wrists and tug you out of the closet as you screamed and thrashed.
"NOOO NO NO YOUR NOT MY DADDY! YOU-R NO'm-my daddy your not!" you shouting became a broken sobs as henry picked you up and laid on the bed with you tucking you into his body wrapping himself around you.
You stayed like that crying into the pillow tugging every so often trying to free yourself from him.
"now do you want to explain where all this is coming from?" he asked getting upset with you as you wouldn't explain what was going on instead you just cried harder.
After a few more minuets of henry shushing you and kissing your head you calmed enough to start explaining.
"y-you don't wan'me!" you muttered as you wept still unable to fully stop your crying.
"wh-what?! Oh baby what do you mean I don't want you? I love you!" he implored quickly unsure where this was
"liar, you said- to the man that your movin' on and stratin'gain an- an my room! Daddy my stuffs gone! And and-lemme go! Your not-your mean!" you whimpered before getting all worked up again choking on your own sobs and began fussing again trying to get away once more.
"alright alright now that's enough. You silly girl were you eavesdropping again little one? This is why daddy has told you not to eavesdrop! You only heard half of the conversation-" he began scolding quietly realising what had happened.
"i heard 'nouhg" you cut him off snidely
"you heard nothing, you silly girl. Daddy isn't getting rid of you, or your things- well not everything" he huffed having just about enough of this tantrum already.
"I'm redecorating your nursery for you. I'm ridding the house of my old little! Dumping all her furniture and getting you your own customised stuff" he said makeing you pause and rub your eyes craning your head to look back at him.
"wh-wha?"
Henry sighed and gave you a pointed look.
"see you might think you heard enough but you didn't, daddy in making a cute little seaside nursery, that why their are sea otters on your wall, their your favourite animal aren't they?." he chided speaking slowly to be sure you were listening.
"w-well yeah b-but my names gone?" you blubbered quietly starting to feel silly for your out burst.
"because daddy was painting the walls poppet and your names on your new crib that's coming today, this was a surprize for when you come home from France... Your own brand new nursery for a toddling little, not a baby-baby..." he hummed softly kissing your shoulders.
You sniffled and mewled before quickly spinning around to face him and then began crying into him feeling guilty. He was doing something nice and you ruined it!
Henry chuckled but held you close hushing you sweetly pressing kisses to your head as he soothed you.
"here come with me" he urged standing picking you up taking you into the office.
You squirmed and clutched at him tightly worried he was gonna spank you for being naughty, eavesdropping, hitting, biting swearing and batting? That was quite a tally.
Instead henry sat on the chair and logged into the computer.
"here see? This it yours and coming today" he said motioning to the screen showing an incredibly beautiful lightwood crib your name carved into the head and foot board with tiny wave detailing and a small pattern of shells on the rim.
"see, your my true little and as such daddy wants to make it official by making you your very own sea side themed nursery, with new toys and furniture and blankie! Starting fresh this time with everything all centred around my perfect little one!" he hummed kissing your head as you sniffled and panted.
"s-so your not- gettin' rid of me?" you whimpered looking to your lap.
"god no! We're getting married! Your my babygirl and I'm your daddy! I'll always be your daddy... I'm sorry to have scared you poppet, i just wanted to surprize you but.. I should of warned you shouldn't I?" henry sighed twisting you in his lap and snuggling you.
"n-no i should've asked and not been bad daddy... Sorry... You can spank me for bein' bad"
"... Although you do deserve a spanking for spying and bratting... Daddy will make you a deal, you help me finish your nursery and I will ignore your naughtiness." he offered holding out a pinky to you.
"r-really i can help?" you asked quietly twiddling your fingers shyly feeling more and more guilty for your behaviour as the seconds ticked by.
"yes poppet, you can help" he said rubbing your back with a little chuckle as you leant into him.
"and no spankin'?" you asked slowly
"not unless you want one to make you feel better" he agreed, but he knew sometimes you didn't want to be let off, sometimes you were to upset with yourself and wanted him to correct you.
"No.. I don't want a spankin daddy.." you said warily glancing at the small space behind the large money tree, the plant hiding your cane just out of view.
"okay then it's a deal, no spankings in return of some hard labour!" he teased and hooked his pinkie around yours making it a real deal then kissed you and squeezed you tight groaning.
"such a silly nugget, you should know by now daddy loves you too much to ever leave you, noone-absolutely no one can ever make me as happy as you!" he assured you feeling a lump form in his throat, he couldn't wait until you were married, then maybe you'd stop all your worrying, you seemed to have this strange idea that you wasn't good enough. Or little enough.
You liked cribs and sippy's and pacies occasionally bottles- when you were ill mostly but not nappies or that type of care. You were a three to four.
"i love you daddy, you are my daddy... I was mad" you anounced quietly nibbling your fingers shyly almost using them to hide behind.
"i know baby, but thank you it means the world to hear you say that, now lets go make some lunch then make a start- we have to stain the skirting board on the back wall before your crib gats here" he said standing up with you setting you on his hip and began moveing though the house.
You rested your face in his neck breathing him in, that had been the most terrifying moment you'd had in this relationship! The thought of him leaving you after you sharing so much with him was your worst nightmare.
All you could say was that from now on, you really wasn't going to eavesdrop anymore. If you had questions you would ask instead to avoid things like this in the future.
#henry cavill#henry cavill x little!reader#ddllg blog#oh-for-fic-sake ask#oh for fic sake headcannon#henry cavill imagine
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The Preacher’s Hot Family cont
CHAPTER FIVE
As the minister's wife, one of Valarie's weekly duties was to clean up and straighten out the church every Thursday morning after the Wednesday night services. It was a fairly easy job because the building was thoroughly cleaned by a janitor every Monday, and there was always a volunteer teen to help her with what she had to do.
She had spent three hours over at Blane's house the night before, and when she arrived at the church Thursday morning, Valarie felt rather tired. She was glad that her helper was a big husky teenager named Tommy Elliot who often volunteered to help her.
When Valarie began straightening things out down in the recreation hall, she sent Tommy up to dust the pews in the main part of the church. While he was doing his work, the teen's thoughts were on the preacher's wife. Looking at the beautiful woman's big tits and shapely legs always gave the teen a horrendous hard-on. Because of this, he often volunteered for the job so he could be around her. Dusting the pews, the horny teen kept thinking how much he would like to fuck the sexy-looking woman. The teen had never had a piece of ass in his life, but he always dreamed of fucking the minister's beautiful wife. The teen had a big throbbing hard-on, and knowing that the woman was busy downstairs, he decided to just sit down and jack off.
Unaware of what the teen was doing, Valarie came up to get him to help her move some furniture, and was completely stunned to see Tommy slumped back in a pew, vigorously beating his meat. The horny woman was shocked by the size of the teen's cock. His cock was over six inches long and quite thick.
"Well, Tommy," she grinned, walking up to the startled teen. "You sure seem to have your hands full."
Too embarrassed to say anything, the blushing teen tried to stuff his boner back in his pants.
"Don't put it away," Valarie smiled, thinking how big his prick was for a teen. "I love to play with cocks, and that's a real beauty."
"Are you serious?"
"I sure am," the horny woman assured him. "And I'll show you a real good time if you want to come downstairs with me."
"Okay," he grinned.
She led him directly down to the nursery where the younger children were kept under supervision while their parents were attending church services. Sitting down on one of the cots where the girls took naps, she smiled at Tommy.
"Come here," she whispered.
When Tommy was standing in front of her, she calmly unbuttoned his shirt and removed it. Next she unfastened his belt and lowered his zipper, pushing his pants and shorts down around his ankles. Valarie was more than pleased with the size of the teen's hard prick. It wasn't as large as Blane Moffat's cock, but it was almost as big as the average man's cock.
"That's quite a tool," she was glowing with excitement as the teen stepped out of the tangle of clothes on the floor. "And now you're all hot to play around."
"I sure am," he said nervously.
"How would you like to fuck me?"
"God, yes!" he said, unable to believe the beautiful preacher's wife was really acting this way with im. "Do you really mean it?"
"Sure."
"Then let's start fuckin'," he panted.
"We will, a later," said Valarie. "But we have some other things to do first."
She knew the inexperienced teen would probably shoot his wad the minute his prick was in her hot juicy pussy, so she decided it would be better to bring him off two or three times before they started fucking, so he could fuck her to a climax.
"Lie down on the cot," she whispered.
When the teen was spread out on his back with his hard cock standing straight up in the air, Valarie reached over and gently grasped his throbbing cockshaft and peeled his foreskin back until his pink cockhead slipped out from the folds of skin.
"Oh, jeez!" he gasped.
"Does this feel good?" whispered the horny woman, gently drawing the skin back and forth over his excited prick.
"Wow! It sure does!" he gasped, shivering with anticipation.
Valarie could feel the teen's body trembling with excitement as she fondled his hard prick with slow sensuous strokes.
"Faster, Mrs. Warner, faster!" he excitedly squealed.
"No, honey," she whispered. "It's better when it's sweet and slow."
Anxious to shoot his hot cum-load off, he reached down and grasped her wrist, trying to make her jerk faster on his prick.
"Faster! Faster!" he pleaded.
"No, honey," she giggled, continuing the slow sensuous movement that she knew was driving the inexperienced teen wild.
She loved the feel of his hard prick in her hand. His cock felt so warm, and she could feel the teen's blood pulsing through the veins just beneath his velvet-soft cock skin.
"Does it feel good?" she whispered. "Fuck, yes!" gasped the excited teen. Then a hot stream of jizz suddenly shot out of his wildly jerking prick. His cock continued spurting cum until his chest and belly were drenched with jism.
"Was that fun?" she smiled.
"Wow!"
Lowering her face, Valarie began licking up the thick globs of cum from his body. When her tongue had thoroughly washed his stomach and chest, she picked up his limp fucker and inserted it into her mouth.
"What the hell are you doing?" he gasped. "Just licking up your sweet jizz," she giggled.
"Doesn't that goo taste shitty?" he asked as she sucked on his cum-smeared prick.
"Heavens no," she smiled. "But you're sure a salty-tasting fart."
The teen was soon writhing and moaning in ecstasy as she began sucking and rolling his spent prick around in her mouth.
"Oh, shit, Mrs. Warner!" he panted. "I'm gettin' another hard-on!"
Feeling his prick rapidly swelling, Valarie momentarily released his cock from her mouth and lowered her face down toward his balls. Excitedly thrusting her tongue out, she lightly ran it over the crinkly skin of his pink balls. The curly fuzz around his balls was tickling her nose, adding more excitement to the cocksucking. Tommy was only a teen, but Valarie was thoroughly enjoying his cock and balls.
After sucking and licking on his balls for a while, she once more raised her head and plunged her hot open mouth over his hard prick.
"Oooooooh, shit!" gasped Tommy, digging his fingers into the woman's long red hair.
Arching his tight ass up from the cot, the excited teen tried to fuck even more of his stiff throbbing prick into the beautiful woman's mouth.
Wrapping her soft juicy lips more tightly around the head of his cock, she slowly lowered her hot sucking mouth until his swollen prick-knob was nudging at the back of her throat. Starting to slide her ovaled lips up and down over his boner, she was thrilled with the heavenly texture of his throbbing fuck-tool.
"Suck it! Suck it, Mrs. Warner!" he excitedly shouted. "Suck it! Suck my cock!"
Slamming his ass up from the cot, Tommy was hoping to fuck even more of his boner into her sucking mouth. This was impossible because she already had every inch of his prick in her mouth with her lips pressed into the sparse hair around the base of his cockshaft.
"It's so good!" he hotly whimpered as her slippery lips and tongue glided up and down over his hard fucker.
The pretty redhead was aware of how much the young man was enjoying his first blow-job and she was trying to please him even more. Valarie's tongue was swirling wildly as her mouth flew up and down over the horny teen's spit-drenched prick.
"Oh, God! Oh, God!" he moaned as the hot suction of her lips increased. "This is great!"
Tommy's hips were involuntarily rocking up and down as he frantically fucked his cock in and out of the woman's mouth.
"Holy shit!" he gasped, his breath coming in hot ragged gasps as he pressed his hands down on the back of her head. "Keep suckin', Mrs. Warner! I'm almost there... almost there!"
Wanting the teen's first blow-job to be one he would never forget, she sucked deeper and harder.
"Oh, shit!" the teen suddenly squealed, digging his fingers into her long red hair, forcing her mouth down tighter over his cock. "Here it comes! Here comes the jizz."
Thrilled by the taste of his cum gushing into her mouth, Valarie sucked and swallowed rapidly as the deliciously slippery cum ran down the back of her throat. She continued passionately sucking and swallowing until she'd drawn the last drop of cum from his slowly shrinking prick.
"Gee," he gasped, then she finally released his limp cock from between her cum-soaked lips. "That was really something!"
"I'm glad you liked it," she smiled. "Do you like to play with girls' tits?"
"I dunno," he grinned. "I've never touched one."
"Would you like to touch mine?"
"Gosh, yes," he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
Standing up, the preacher's wife quickly took her clothes off.
"Jeez!" gulped the teen as he gazed at the soft triangle of red pussy hairs between her shapely thighs.
"Do you like my hot pussy?"
"Shit, yes!"
"That's good," she grinned. "Because you're soon going to be fucking this horny hole."
She spread herself out on the cot with him, and Tommy stared excitedly at her beautiful naked tits.
"Come on, honey," she whispered, taking his hand and drawing it toward her tits. "Play with my tits."
A delicious tingling sensation rippled through her loins when his fingers brushed across her nipples.
"You're a fast learner," she giggled as the teen began boldly rubbing and caressing the luscious tits that were thrusting out in front of him. Glancing down, Valarie could see that his cock was once again standing straight up.
"It looks like you're ready for a nice hot fuck," she giggled.
"Do you want to feel how hot my cunt is?"
When he hesitated, she took his hand and eased his fingers up against her slippery cunt slit.
"Gee, it feels all hot and gooey," he gasped as she slipped his finger up to the first knuckle in her oozing pussy.
"That's because it wants to be fucked."
"Can I do it now?" the teen excitedly asked.
"Help yourself," whispered Valarie, rolling on to her back and spreading her legs.
Shaking with excitement, Tommy crawled up between her open thighs.
Reaching down, the horny redhead grabbed his hard cock and guided it toward her slippery pussy. A delightful tremor flooded through her loins when his hard cockhead probed between her open cuntlips. Not wanting the teen to think he was doing it wrong, she slowly guided his throbbing cockshaft into her juicy fuck-hole. Releasing his prick, she grasped his asscheeks and pulled him up against her as his inexperienced cock slithered all the way into her scalding cunt.
"Shit, it's hot and squishy in there," he panted when his throbbing fuck-rod was completely buried in her cunt.
"Does your cock like my pussy?" she teased.
"Fuck, yes!" gasped Tommy as the woman began rotating her talented tongue around his excited prick.
"Now pump it in and out," she whispered. "That's what fucking is all about."
Raising up on his knees, he withdrew his prick until just the tip of it remained embedded in her pussy, and then she grasped his ass again and pulled him violently back against her crotch.
"Oooooooooh!" she squealed, feeling the top ridge of his steel-hard cockshaft rubbing against her clit.
Quickly catching on, the teen was soon rapidly fucking his cock in and out. And, because he was on his knees, his hard cock was in direct contact with Valarie's tingling clit.
"Oh, shit, that feels so good!" she squealed. "Faster, honey, faster!"
Tommy had never felt anything so fucking good in his life. The feel of his cock fucking in and out of her hotly sucking cunt was the most wonderful thing he had ever experienced.
Because she had jacked him off and sucked him off, Valarie wasn't worried about Tommy shooting his hot cum-load too soon as she lay back to enjoy a nice long fuck.
"Oh, Jesus!" she squealed as his virile cock fucked hotly into her overheated cunt. "Oh, God, honey! Oh, shit, that feels good!"
Never had anything ever stimulated her pussy like this teen's hard-fucking boner.
"Oooooh! Eeeeeghhh!"
"Does it hurt?" panted the inexperienced teen, suddenly stopping.
"God, no! Don't stop, you dummy!" she squealed, screwing her crotch up tighter around the base of his prickshaft. "Keep fuckin'! Just fuck the shit out of me!"
Almost out of her mind from the electrifying rapture of his hard cock fucking back and forth against her clit, Valarie was thrashing and bucking all over the cot. On and on he fucked into her pussy as she squealed and moaned with pleasure.
"Oh, honey, I'm coming!" she suddenly shrieked with uncontrolled passion, "I'm coming, baby!"
Writhing through her intense orgasm, Valarie could feel the teen's hot cum squirting into her pussy.
"Gosh, Mrs. Warner," he whispered a later as she cradled him in her arms. "That was sure neat."
"It was fantastic," she smiled.
"Will you let me fuck you again?"
"You're sure a horny bastard," she giggled. "But if you're ready again, I sure dig you."
"Well," she smiled, lowering her head and rubbing his prick against her mouth. "The first thing we have to do is pump this beauty up again."
"Mmmmmmmmmm, that's good," he said with a shudder, feeling her lips clamping around his limp prick.
She soon felt his body trembling with excitement as his cock began stiffening in her mouth.
"It's hard again!" he suddenly shouted. "Let's fuck!"
"Okay," she giggled, getting on her hands and knees. "This time, fuck me from the rear."
"Why do it that way? It seems dumb."
"Just try it," she said. "You'll love it."
Still thinking it was dumb, Tommy knelt behind her soft creamy ass and placed his cockhead between her hotly dripping cuntlips. Firmly grasping her hips, he lunged forward.
"Oh, God," she gasped, feeling his steelhard cockshaft fucking into her oozing cunt from the rear. Valarie's hot cunt juices began boiling all around his boner as she feverishly pumped her ass back against him.
Tommy could hardly control his excitement as he jubilantly fucked his hard cockmeat in and out of the first cunt he had ever fucked. He couldn't get over how hot and slippery it felt as her experienced cunt muscles squeezed his tingling fucker. Deciding to make it last as long as possible, he began slowly fucking into her heavenly cunt as she rotated her hot ass back against his belly.
"Do you like it, honey?" she whispered over her shoulder.
"Wow! This is really wild!" he said excitedly.
The teen could feel her scalding pussy cream flowing around his tingling boner as her snug cunt squeezed his prick. Fucking into her hot, slick pussy, Tommy was losing all control of himself. He began lustily fucking the woman with all his energy.
"Oooooooh, yes!" she moaned with delight, creaming all over his pounding prick as she shook and wriggled her ass. "That's the way to fuck, honey! Pour it to me, baby! Just bang the piss out of me!"
Kneeling with her ass high in the air and her face resting in her arms, Valarie was being bounced all over the cot. Her full tits were jiggling beneath her as Tommy frenziedly fucked his cock into her hotly drooling pussy.
"Oh, you sweet fucker!" she wailed. "I love it! I love the way you're fuckin' me!"
Wanting to please the beautiful woman as much as possible, he increased the tempo of his feverish fucking. His hard slim belly was slapping noisily against her ass as he poured it to her with all his strength.
"Harder, honey, harder!" she shrieked. "Just fuck my ass off!"
Valarie couldn't get over how good it felt to be fucked by this teen's big hard cock. The rapidity of his fucking was making her cunt tingle with unbelievable ecstasy. The walls of her pussy were burning from the friction of his virile prick. On the verge of climax, Valarie could feel her nipples burning and stiffening with rapture.
"Oh, God! Oh, God!" she screamed, feverishly waving her ass around. "I'm coming again! Oh, fuck, how I'm coming!"
Shuddering from head to toe as her pussy contracted and spasmed around his fantastic cock, Valarie was riding the crest of the wildest orgasm she'd ever had. It was suddenly intensified by the feel of his hot jizz shooting into her cunt.
"Yes, honey, yes!" she shrieked as the teen pumped her pussy full of cum. "Squirt, baby, squirt! Cream me good! Squirt! Squirt!"
When her unbelievable orgasm finally ended, Valarie collapsed on her belly beneath the teen with his cock still shooting hot jizz into her pussy.
"Shit," he grinned when he finally pulled his limp prick out of her cum-filled cunt. "That was really neat."
"I know," she whispered. "And you can fuck me every time we clean the church. But you've got to promise to keep it a secret."
"I promise."
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You can count on me to pull up with a thousand of questions sbdhdh. A3, A22, C5, D3, F3 for Jilly ; A18, A23, B9, C1, H2 for Nirn ; A5,B9, C8, D1, I5, for Thurwen ; A9, A13, C1, E8, and G6 for Valkya? 😏
A3, A22, C5, D3, F3 for Jilly ;
A3.Do they have any emotional or psychological conditions? Are they aware of it? Do they try to treat it?
Shawty got that stockholm syndrome in a way. She is…. Sometimes aware of it, though she wouldn't call it that any more. Maybe at first in the basement she was more aware, but now that she can come and go she thinks its a thing of the past. tries not to dwell on it. Kind of in a “well its literally not that bad its kind of fun its kind of romantic were just quirky <3” way, will get mad if someone insists she has stockholm or that the relationship is fucked. Will get enraged and upset on Vincent's behalf, probably cry and yell at you.
A22. Is your OC intended to be found generally attractive? Unattractive? Average? Is there a reason why?
I intended her to be fairly average, maybe kind of cute. It's generally the way she dresses/acts in public that draws attention, not her looks. I tend to make most of my ocs on the average scale besides a select few.
C5. Do your OC’s morals and rules of common decency go out the window when it comes to those they don’t like, or when it’s inconvenient? Aka, are their morals situational?
Good question…. Jillys morals are pretty simple- always be kind and nice, murder and hurting other people is bad, and you shouldnt lie. She sticks to those pretty strictly herself despite the situations she gets put in, often to her own detriment. But she doesn't always put a stop to those behaviors from the people she surrounds herself with, so she's sort of accomplice to bad acts of violence just by not snitching. So somewhat situational? She tries not to think about it.
D3. How comfortable are they with the idea of death?
Not comfortable! She hadn't seen a lot of it before her early twenties and was always sort of sheltered. dead fish are flushed down the toilet bcs they go to the ocean to live again, right? Thought cows and such all died of old age peacefully before they were made into burgers until she was like… twelve. 💀Won't kill mice and other critters despite her prey drive bcs she would feel too bad. And this is just for animal death, she's much more uncomfortable with human death. Also a thing she tries to ignore.
F3. Could they ever live in a “tiny home”?
God no. She hates small spaces unless she's hiding in them and tiny homes have no room for all the shit she stashes! No room for zoomies, or climbing on the furniture, or wrestling around on the floor. It would be filled with junk within a week.
A18, A23, B9, C1, H2 for Nirn ;
A18. Do they get jealous easily? Do they feel bad if they do?
He's never had much to be jealous of, as he's never really been over involved in romantic relationships. They were usually mutually beneficial and somewhat clinical in nature. Hes also pretty sure of himself and his value as an asset and lover. If he finds someone who peaks his interest and they become an item though, he might get jealous if he catches them flirting with other people. Hell be peeved at first but know flirtation in business has its value, so to make himself feel better might flirt with someone else while they are nearby. Make a game of it, see who wins.
A23. Does your OC place much importance on their appearance? Do they feel confident in it?
Appearances are crucial to him and spends a lot of time and money making sure he looks his best. He needs to appear above the rabble and impenetrable, dressing well and having immaculate posture and an air of both grace and otherworldliness.
B9. What kind of humor does your OC like the most? Slapstick, ironic, funny sounds, scare pranks, xD sO rAnDoM…
Definitely not one to find fart jokes funny. Very rarely laughs genuinely or full heartedly, he keeps all his expressions of emotion close to his chest. Sharp sardonic wit is appealing to him in the right circumstances, even a jab directed at himself can make him chuckle if it's well formed enough. Irony almost always gets him, even if its dark irony or gallows humor. Bit of a hard nut to crack. Would laugh enough that hed have to cover his mouth with his hand if he were to see Felix fall face first into mud, though. More often than not you can tell he finds something amusing by a gleam in his eyes and a slight squint.
C1. Does your OC have a moral code? If not, how do they base their actions? If so, where does it come from, and how seriously do they take it?
Well he used to have a real moral code :/. Now I mean…. The ends justify the means. By any means necessary. He considers his family's needs first, then the good of the world, then any individual in the world. Has ordered executions of entire families, had babies stolen and sent away, sent armies to certain death knowing full well they would all die, commanded individuals be tortured for information, sacrificed many in what he considers to be a game of chess where he is the player and others are the pawns. He finds senseless violence and savagery to be unforgivable, but if violence has a sense and purpose to employ it, then he will do so.
H2. Is your OC a thoughtful partner, in whatever aspect of that you want to cover?
Nirn tends to be a very thoughtful and attentive person in general, just for the wrong reasons lmaoooo. But with a lover? He's going to be utilizing that to show them how much he cares and using his powers for good. Mention you like a certain fabric while shopping one time and then complain your favorite tunic has a wine stain in it several months later, he's going to be taking your measurements for a new one in your preferred material without a moment's notice. Very keen on picking up moods, expressions and tone. Also has a very good memory. He doesn't really think about it but gifts are how he shows his love. Also a great attentive listener.
A5,B9, C8, D1, I5, for Thurwen ;
A5. Are they good at handling change in their life?
I would say so, yeah. Shes been used to things constantly changing since she was little and has had little to no control on outside influences. Shes also not one to over think about the past and lament, shes more of a one foot in front of the other, the only time is the present kind of gal. Of course large changes like becoming a warden were a bit more severe, but shes mostly able to think in the present as long as she has immediate problems to deal with.
B9.What kind of humor does your OC like the most? Slapstick, ironic, funny sounds, scare pranks, xD sO rAnDoM…
Slapstick is always gonna make her laugh as long as nobody gets seriously hurt, even if its her own ass tripping into a tree. Not a fan of scare pranks, 0/10 recommend trying to scare Thurwen. You will end up with a broken nose at best and an angry elf. Likes puns, but she's the one to groan at them and try and hide the grin spreading across her face. Gallows humor but only if its her in the gallows, otherwise doesn't find it funny at all. If a little kid calls someone a fartcicle she will be tears in the eyes giggling, which is hard when your warden commander and everyone looks toward you to be serious and mature gyshsdhdfsghsd.
C8. Is your OC more practical or ideal morally? I.e., do they hold people to high expectations of behavior even if it’s not realistic for the situation, or do they have a more realistic approach and adapt their morality to be more practical?
She definitely holds herself to moral ideals and is very hard on herself, but has realistic moral expectations for others. She can understand self serving and people only wanting to survive and she will only give people a little bit of shit for it, no one's perfect. But then she expects herself to be perfect and berates herself constantly for not living up to the hero of ferelden warden commander ideals.
D1. How religious is your OC? What do they practice, if anything? If they don’t associate with any religion, what do they think of religion in general?
Atheist ever since her mom died when she was a kid, but now Shes in a weird mixed state ever since the urn of sacred ashes where shes like. fuck the maker, but Andraste is cool I guess. So respects/believes in the power of Andraste while thinking the maker is a piece of shit and the chantry sucks ass. Even she doesnt know what she really believes, but she did see the ghosts of Andrastes disciples and Shartan, used her ashes as healing salve, killed an old god, etc. So shes been in a weird place recently, crisis of faith/non faith pretty continual.
I5. Are they a good cook?
I mean…. She can cook basics. Shes been feeding herself and the alienage kids since she was old enough to walk so she knows how to get protein and make things edible. Does it taste good? Probably not. She didnt see her first spice till she was 17 years old, but she can skin a rabbit in seven seconds.
LA9, A13, C1, E8, and G6 for Valkya? 😏
A9. Does your OC make a lot of excuses? For themselves? Others?
She tries to excuse bad behavior of herself or others a lot, yeah fgdgdsfhdhs. Mostly she doesnt have to make excuses for herself because she can wholeheartedly be like “yeah i fucked up but whatever im sexy and large and awesome and everyone loves me 🙄whatever baby” and when other people fuck up shes pretty sympathetic even though they are not as large nor as sexy. Shes very used to forgiving and excusing herself its totally alien to her when she really fucks up and is suddenly like wait… valkya…. Did bad?? What is this feeling. Shame?? Guilt?? IMPOSSIBLE.
A13. Does your OC have any phobias? If so, where did they come from?
She hates those giant bugs in morrowind and valenwood a whole fucking lot but I wouldnt exactly place it as a phobia. Those huge mosquitoes and haorvers got no respect but she really hates the morrowind bugs ever since they knocked her over and jumped her while she was pants down peeing drunk as hell in the sand :/ never forgave. Never forgot.
C1. Does your OC have a moral code? If not, how do they base their actions? If so, where does it come from, and how seriously do they take it?
She was raised in a healthy household that tought the basics, prety much “harming others needlessly, stealing, torture, rape, dessecrating the dead, being selfish and not doing right by others, etc etc all basic bad things” are her morals. Her morality is basically treat others how you want to be treated. And if they treat you badly, then have fun beating the shit out of them to show everyone else not to fuck with you. Its a pretty nordic morality in that way. Her morality is also since she was ‘blessed’ with being so large and strong, that she has to also look out for the little guy who cant protect themselves. So If someone treats them how valkya wouldn't want to be treated, then beat the shit out of the person harming them to show them the little guys got backup. Her parents raised her to be a hero and thats p much how she sees herself, which has its benefits and its fuckin problems.
E8. What’s one of your OC’s biggest regrets?
Fucking up Dem and Dariens relationship for sure dude :/ valkya always gonna be sulking over that one. She doesnt regret becoming a vestige, even though it would have made her so much happier not to be because it ended up saving so many people and the world. She regrets not spending more time with Naryu, regrets always having other life saving business she had to run off to, regrets not cherishing the time they had together. Regrets not telling Lyris how she feels, either. Regrets not being able to save as many people as she should have, regrets she wasnt stronger in coldharbor and didnt break out herself. But she tries not to think about it <3
G6. Do they have any favorite childhood memories?
When she was seven she once spent two months training to hold her breath underwater, because her cousin always held it longer and won the gold bet. She trained for hours almost drowning in the river until she could comfortably hold it for up to three minutes. During the next holiday when they all got together again the competitions were on and they both went under- her cousin won, holding their breath for four more minutes before they decided to come up. This was the first lesson she learned that shocked her world view- you always need to know your opponents capabilities. (after she lost 26 gold in the bets, her mother later had to inform her that her cousin was an argonian.)
#thank u beloved this was good to go thru while in class when i should have been paying attention gfhsdhds#valkya#jilly#nirn#thurwen#the ladies and the gilf#presented without evidence; valkya be stupit kinda :/#HOW DO U DO URS SO FAST... SUPER POWERS
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Not Alone: Chapter Three
-> an apocalyptic series with bnha characters but without quirks because im the writer and i can do whatever the fuck I want :3
-> Word Count: 2.4k
-> Warnings: Blood, guns, violence
-> Taglist: @5sosfckss @laudthingcat [if you wanna be added lmk <3]
“Where did you learn to stitch someone?”
Y/n looked back over at her guest and frowned, “My dad was a survivalist. He made me go to survivor camp every summer and took me hunting all the time. When it all started he plannned for us to come here. The book shelves are lined with his survival stuff.
Mina frowned, “Did he come with you or did you come alone?”
In that instant it flashed in Y/n’s eyes. The memory of her father pinned by a truck. His hand reached out for her. She could see them coming as she felt his fingers pushed them away. Her feet listened to him and started to run. They move against her wishes.
She shook the memories off and looked at Mina, “Where are your parents?”
Her eyes went blank like Y/n’s, “My mom died of sickness in the beginning. She went to work and never came home, and dad...well, he’s gone too.” Her voice started to quiver a bit and trailed off. Y/n didn’t press any farther.
“They’re all gone Mina. All that’s left is us and them.” Y/n almost twitched when she said the words ‘us and them’. She included Mina in her ‘us’.
“Mina?” A sleepy voice came from the living room. She quickly got up and out of bed to go check on Kirishima.
“He’s burning up.”
Y/n nodded and walked into the room and stretched, “Good. His body’s fighting the infection. The tree bark from the branch wass really flakey. I tried to flush the wound as best as I could but some bark might still be in there.”
Y/n felt a small spark on the back of her hand when she rested it against the balmy skin of his forehead. He took her hand in his. It was a moment of intimacy that Y/n’s never experienced before. She didn’t pull away but she didn’t know how to react as he squeezes her hand.
“Hard to thank you when I don’t know your name.”
Y/n felt her hand trapped in and looked over the back of the couch and gave him a small smile, “My name’s Y/n.” She felt expressions play across her face and quickly pulled away from his sweaty palm. She walked to the leftover boiled water and poured him a huge glass of it and then passed it to him. “You’ll need this.”
His red eyes sparkled and suddenly Y/n’s stomach ache was back.
“Thanks. Thanks for everything. I know you could’ve left me in that hole.” Y/n broke his stare and looked at the hardwood floor.
“It was nothing.”
Mina looked over at them and grinned, “How old are you Y/n?”
“Nineteen.”
Mina smiled, “I’m eighteen.”
Y/n felt sad when Mina told her that. She realized that Mina was eight when her mother never came home from work.
“Kirishima is twenty.” The room went quiet, Y/n didn’t know how to add to the conversation. She didn’t have conservations. Hades sensed her awkwardness and padded towards her, nuzzlin his face into her palms. “Where’d you get him?” Y/n scratched his face and smiled at how Mina had already won Hades over.
“He was at the doorstep one day. I heard his mother dying in the woods near the house. She got the infection and died just after giving birth. Her cubs started to eat her and got the sickness too. Hades was the only smart one. He never ate her. He found me instead.” Y/n grimaced and tried not to think about having to shoot the baby wolves.
Mina beamed at the large wolf, “He’s huge.”
“Very, but he’s good company and helps out around the house.” Mina laughed at that. She was bubbly, Y/n remembered her grandma calling kids bubbly and wondered how bubbly Mina would be if she had a normal childhood. Y/n looked back at Kirshima who was falling asleep again. “He falls asleep fast. We need to make him some soup.” She walked to the door and looked back at Mina. “Can I trust you?”
Mina shook her head, “No, I like it here and I’ll do whatever you want to let me stay but if it comes down to it I would sell you out to save Kiri.”
“Fair enough,” Y/n liked her candor and pointed to the books on the shelf, “Start with the top shelf. They’re the easiest reads.” Mina nodded and grabbed a book. Y/n knew Mina was a survivor.
The wooden paneling of the outdated cottage was comfortable and bright with the light filtering in through the huge windows. She hasn’t seen her cabin for what it truly was until that moment. Having seen Mina and Kirishima in her house made her realize how lucky she was. She had a fleeting thought and wondered when was the last time they rested on comfortable furniture.
Hades’s yellow eyes met Y/n’s eyes, he spoke to her only with his look. He wanted to stay with them. He didn’t completely trust the new guests either, Y/n could see it in his eyes. She nodded at him and walked out of the cabin.
She needed grouse or pheasant or wild turkey. There weren't a ton of them in the area but Y/n knew a spot. The cabin sat surrounded by huge fir trees and brush, green was everywhere. It made her nervous in the beginning. It was so big compared to her and she felt like there were eyes on her from a thousand vantage points. She could see the infected stepping over the brush, arms reaching for her. Blood running from their eyes and seeping sores covering their skin. Their tattered clothes and the smell would overwhelm her as they pulled her to the ground.
She could see the other. She could hear herself scream as their greedy fingers bit into her skin and dragged her into the woods. The woods where she would scream like the other girls. The tearing of the clothes had haunted her from the beginning. The infected tore flesh and the others tore clothes and the sound could swallow you up.
But now she saw the greenery and listened to the sounds of the forest and knew that she was safe. The forest was her friend. The relationship was tense in the beginning, but it earned her trust over time. Just like Hades, it had become a part of her family. Where she lost one family, she gained another.
The branches broke under her feet but in a way that kept the birds chirping and squirrels nattering. It was a gift that she had learned from Hades. He was able to wander the forest quickly, but in sync with the woodland creatures.
She stopped at the small dip in the forest, she had a great view from there. She blended into the trees and listened as she closed her eyes and waited. She grabbed her bow and arrow and got ready and waited for the sound she was seeking. It was a pheasant.
She watched the bizarre looking face of it and it’s spectacular colors. She could tell it was male. She took a deep breath and on the exhale released the arrow perfectly. It took her two years of constant shooting to be able to down an animal at that distance. The pheasant dropped without a sound as the arrow pierced through his throat just below it’s throat. She waited an extra second before putting the bow and arrow back in a small hole and going to retrieve the bird.
While she retrieved her catch she constantly looked over her shoulder. Kirishima and his friend had been watching her for two months before she became aware of them. Her sense of security in the forest was questioned. Heat flushed her cheeks as she walked back carrying the bird by his feet. She caught herself thinking about Kirishima; his red hair and red eyes and long eyelashes.
A stabbing pain ripped through her thigh.
She looked up to see the reflection of a scope from across the small gully. She quickly dropped to the ground and layed among the brush. Her heart was beating out of control.
Mina.
Y/n was sure that she had shot her. She wants her cabin, she had made that perfectly clear. Y/n’s heart hurt for the smallest of seconds before she hardedned and came to terms with the fact that she would have to kill Mina. Flashes of her pink hair and how much she cared for her friend crossed Y/n’s mind.
Shots whizzed passed Y/n in the brush. Y/n wondered if Kirishima had known that Mina was trying to kill her. Y/n held her breath and waited. She knew Hades would come for her. Then she heard footsteps. The forest was silent as the predator moved through it. She felt a sickening hurt after she realized that she had been betrayed. She regretted helping Kirishima out of that hole. She should’ve never opened the door. She should’ve cracked open the whiskey and listened from inside her cabin and waited for Mina to die or leave.
She knew she would regret it.
Y/n looked around. There was too much brush surrounding her. Any movement she made would give away her location. She could hear the footsteps drawing closer. They were heavy in their step, breaking branches roughly. Y/n was certain that it was Mina. She was certain that she would be shot in the back of the head any minute.
The whizzing noise started again as bullets hit the tree behind her. Y/n wondered what Mina was doing and why she hadn’t just shot her already. Thinking that Mina had lost the spot where she shot her, she thanked the bush for being so thick around her. There was a heavy thump and some rustling near me and Y/n started to panic silently. She had no idea what was going on.
“Y/n,” a whisper filled the forest and Y/n looked around without rustling the bushes. “Y/n?” Suddenly she felt Hades' breath on her. She looked up to see Mina squatted beside her. As soon as Y/n saw the rifle in her hand she was filled with rage. But she knew that the bullet in her thigh wouldn’t allow her to jump up and fight Mina for the gun. She looked at Hades who was on edge. He was hunting as if Mina was his partner and that hurt Y/n more than anything. “Y/n I killed him but there might be others.”
“What?” The words left Y/n’s mouth before she could register her volume.
Mina put a finger to her lips, “He probably isn’t alone.”
Y/n looked at her gun in Mina’s hands, “You never shot me?”
Mina pointed to the bush beside Y/n, “He shot you. Why would I shoot you? What? Where are you shot?”
Y/n tried to ignore the pain as she got up on her knees, almost crying out when she made it onto her feet in a hunched position. She saw the boots of the man on the ground.
“Those are military issue,” Y/n spoke softly, scanning the forest.
“Great.”
Y/n limped over to him and bent over. Her leg was pouring blood now. She took off her outer shirt and tied it around her thigh tightly and then fished the guy’s pockets. The warmth of her blood was already seeping down her leg. The guy was older, forty maybe. He had brown hair and looked like he had been eating well. She took his gun and knife that she found in his boot and tossed some beef jerky the man had at Hades.
“We could’ve eaten that.”
Y/n looked at Mina and shook her head, “Never eat anything you take off another human. Could have the infection or be rotten.”
Mina pointed at Hades, “He could get the infection.”
“He’s immune.”
“No one is immune.”
Y/n smiled sarcastically, “I have downed sick things before and he’s eaten them. He never gets sick.”
Mina made a face as she untied the dead man’s boots, “Oh god, so he ate his mother and lived?”
Y/n nodded, “Yeah probably. I try not to think about it.”
“You said he never ate her.”
Y/n shrugged as she scanned the forest and spoke quietly, “I want to gross you out ir scare you while I was fixing your friend’s wounded leg. We just met. I was trying to be polite- get the bird.”
She took the boots and the bird and walked over to Y/n, “Need a hand?”
Y/n leaned on her and Hades came up on her other side. He was less scared now.
“He got all crazy and started scratching at the door. He tried to open the door himself. I knew something was wrong. He led me right to you.”
Y/n brushed a hand through his dense fur. It wasn’t the first time he’d saved her life and she knew it wouldn’t be the last.
As they walked back to the cabin Y/n felt sick and afraid. There was no doubt that the army guy was not alone.
Her small cabin was under attack and the shirt around her leg was soaked red. She felt weak. She was afraid that the bullet was still in her thigh and thought about the fact that Mina was now the only able bodied person. Her safety and comfort was gone and in her mind she could hear the tearing and screaming again. As she walked through the door, Mina helped her to the other chair. She sat on the edge and tried to not get blood everywhere.
Hades looked worried, his eyes were concerned and full of expression. He nudged her and Y/n scratched his face and kissed the top of his head.
“I can’t believe you thought I shot you. That’s really what you think I’d do after you helped Kirishima?”
Y/n wobbled slightly from the blood loss and tried to muster a smile, “No, but I was scared. I’m glad it wasn’t you.” She felt the chair against the back of her head and the ceiling started to spin. She felt like she might throw up but then everything goes black.
--
#k tag time#apocalyptica#apocalypse au#au#mha#bnha#kirishima eijiro#eijiro kirishima#mina ashido#ashido mina#fanfiction#angst#mha kirishima#kirishima fanfic#fanfic#mha fanfic#mha apocalypse au#kirishima#mina#y/n#fem reader#kirishima x y/n#reader insert#thats abt it i think#im bad at tags lol
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Tag Game
Tag nine people you’d like to catch up with or get to know better
@rein-ette
@Anyone who loves engport, portugal or england, loves to talk about sh and things like that is free to talk to me. Please do it, im so fucking shy.
favorite color? I like all colors, if something depends on what things. For example I love pink BUT I NEVER WOULD WEAR PINK CLOTHES however I think a pink backpack or piece of furniture would be FABULOUS, you know? so in general I love all colors.
currently reading: Uh, I fell back -AGAIN- into that hole called "Sherlock Holmes." So I'm furiously rereading all the books. And I'm also reading with great passion a lot of WatsonxHolmes fanfictions from the Victorian era, in fact I'm in a great mood of being addicted to Victorian things distantly related to SH, you know? because I am so tempted to start reading E. W. Hornung and all his works on A.J Raffles. And I am a few hours away from rereading The Picture of Dorian Gray and many other things by Oscar Wilde.
Someone stop me.
5 songs I’ve been listening to:
For some reason I became addicted to several Britney Spears songs but the looped prize goes to:
1. Britney Spears- Gimme More.
It's pride month so I've been addicted to a remix between two songs from the Attack on titan series that talk about the great and beautiful couple that make HistoriaxYmir:
2. Zero Eclipse x Call of Silence
I don't know how I got to this song but I fell in love with it:
3. Kate Bush-Babooshka
The other time I saw a great documentary about rock and social protests so:
4. Los fabulosos Cadillacs- El matador
I HAD A RARE DREAM AND I came up with a drawing that I am making and I need this song to work:
5. Rammstein-Sonne.
last movie? Cruella, I saw it with my family <3
last series? I'm addicted to SH so I saw the Granada Holmes series and the Lenafilms -russian holmes- version, and the Howard Holmes version. I also saw "Sherlock", I had already seen it but now I did it with my eyes open to despise the queerbaiting that serie does. :C
I hate / like in a conflict way that series now ugh.
I was also watching THE NEW SEASON OF HETALIA! LIKE MY GOD FINALLY PORTUGAL APPEARED AAAAH <3 <3 <3
Oh and I watched Jojos Bizarred Adventure again because IT'S FINALLY ON NETFLIX
sweet, spicy, or savory? I don't know. I probably had covid and my taste was screwed up so the food doesn't taste the same anymore, nothing tastes good to me anymore and -cry- but when I had a normal taste I loved sweet and salty. I'm not a big fan of spicy, which is torture if you live in Mexico like me hahahahaha -cry-, nah actually, not everything is spicy, only the sweets -evil laugh-
tea or coffee? TEAAAAAA with sugar. I liked milk with some coffee before but my taste got screwed up so I don't know what I love anymore.
currently working on:
Trying to finish the #EngPortWeek. When this wonderful event was, I suffered from fever and severe anemia that almost killed me, fuck my life, so I'm working now, a few months later on it. I advance slowly but surely.
I have other THOUSANDS OF FICS that I must work on but the only one that I set out to get 100% this year is a pottertalia au that I did. I have not progressed much, but well in the end it turned out to be due to my anemia, probably when I recover my iron I will be well and I will be productive
I HOPE (?
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Soft in Love Part 2
A Gwilym Lee x Student!Reader Fic
Summary: Y/N is an acting student in her last semester of college. When a professor unexpectedly can’t make it for the senior capstone class, a very famous (and handsome) substitute is called in. When they connect, they face a few challenges.
Word Count: 2.7k
Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @benders-diamond-earring, @im-an-adult-ish, @anincurablefangirl, @kiainspace, @lookuptotheskiesandsee
If you’d like to be added, let me know!
A/N: Hope you all enjoy this next part! Sorry it’s taken a little longer than usual, I’ve been pretty busy at work.
Warning(s): None! Well, more pining, but hey, y’all asked for this.
Part 1
Part 2 here we go!!!
That night, you went to Sloan’s for pizza and a movie. Since you lived on campus as part of your scholarship, you tended to hang out at Sloan and Andrew’s apartment once classes were over and homework was done. You had a room to yourself, but it wasn’t spacious, so the three of you normally were at their shabby, typical New York apartment with little space and even less furniture.
“So, what should we watch?” you wondered as you plopped down on the couch.
“How about Bohemian Rhapsody?” Sloan suggested, wiggling her eyebrows at you. “Y’know, so you can really see Gwilym in action?”
Andrew groaned. “Come on, Sloan, we’ve teased her enough.”
“What?” she shot back. “They were really connecting.”
“Connecting?” you questioned. “We barely said two words to each other.”
You had neglected to tell them about running into your substitute in the library. You were keeping that moment to yourself. It felt like something private, even though it was perfectly innocent. You wanted to keep it in your heart. For now, at least.
“All that eye contact,” Sloan continued. “It was like Edward and Bella in there.”
“If it was like Edward and Bella, he’s more likely to murder me than anything,” you retorted.
“Edward doesn’t kill Bella!” she argued.
“He turns her into a vampire!” Andrew pointed out. “That’s the same thing!”
“No it isn’t!”
“Yes it is!”
“Okay, Jacob!”
“Guys!” you interjected. “If we talk anymore about Twilight, I’m going to kill myself. Let’s just pick a movie.”
“I still vote for Bohemian Rhapsody,” Sloan said. “Y/N should see at least one thing our new professor is in.”
“I think we should watch a classic,” Andrew replied. “I haven’t watched Casablanca in a while.”
“One vote for Bohemian Rhapsody, one vote for Casablanca,” she said, then looked at you. “Would you like to cast a vote, or add a contender?”
You thought for a moment, but you already knew what you were going to pick. You just wanted to give Andrew the illusion of having a chance. You tapped your chin with your forefinger.
“I’m gonna go with…” you paused. “Bohemian Rhapsody.”
“Oh, come on!” Andrew mock complained. Then he smiled. “Alright, I’m gonna order the pizza.”
“We’ll start the movie,” Sloan assured him.
As she picked up the remote, you considered telling her about the library. You weren’t sure why Sloan should be allowed this information and not Andrew, but you’d noticed he had sort of drifted from you while you were dating Daniel. Now that you and Daniel were broken up, Andrew was friendlier than before even. It made you a little confused. And the distance really hurt you.
But you looked at Sloan and thought about what she had said so far. You didn’t think she would tease you about the library, but she also would likely turn it into something it wasn’t. She had a tendency to gas you up for things that were hardly ever a big deal in reality. So you decided not to tell her. The moment would remain just yours. And Gwilym’s, of course.
The movie began, with the pizza arriving about half an hour in. You wouldn’t call yourself a huge Queen fan, but you liked their hits. You admired the movie’s aesthetic, but you especially admired Gwilym’s performance. He looked so cool with the curly hair and the seventies clothes. It was rather unlike the man you’d met earlier that day. Not that Gwilym didn’t look cool, he just wasn’t as glam. At least, not on that level.
When the movie finished after the Live Aid scene, you had gotten a little emotional. You wiped your burning eyes and sniffled.
“So, what’d you think?” Sloan asked, switching the television off.
“It was good,” you choked out.
“Oh my God, Y/N, you’re such a sap,” Andrew joked.
“Shut up!” you returned. “I just have feelings. There’s nothing wrong with that!”
He laughed. “Nah, I guess you’re right.”
You stretched out on the couch, nudging his thigh playfully with your toe as you giggled and yawned. He smiled back at you.
“I’m beat,” you sighed. “I think I’ll head back to my dorm.”
“You know you’re always welcome to stay here,” Andrew said.
“I know,” you replied. “But I don’t like to intrude. Plus, your couch is lumpy.”
“You could take my bed,” he offered.
Something about the way he didn’t look at you when he said it rubbed you the wrong way. If Andrew had feelings for you, you wished he would either say it or get over it, but not say things like that to leave you wondering. You knew it could never be that way between you, so you hoped for the latter.
“I’d rather be in my own bed,” you said, keeping your tone light.
You got off the couch and stretched again. As you put your backpack on, you thanked them for the pizza and then bid them goodnight.
Sloan closed the door behind you and looked at her roommate.
“Could you be any more obvious?” she said. She continued by doing her best Andrew impression. “Stay here, sleep in my bed, suck my dick.”
“Oh, fuck off,” he returned, disappearing in to his room.
You headed back to campus, which was only a few blocks away, your mind racing. Everything from your chance library meeting with Gwilym to whatever the hell had gotten into Andrew was swirling around in your mind.
As you passed the coffee shop closest to campus - frequented by mostly students and faculty, you spotted Gwilym though the window. You watched him as he pored over the book you had recommended, sipping his drink with something of a refined air about him. The temptation to go in and say hello was overwhelming. You were just so drawn to him for some reason. But you decided against it, remembering the way Sloan had compared you both to the cringiest couple perhaps ever written. Showing up suddenly at the coffee shop after one earlier chance meeting seemed very stalker or Edward Cullen-ish. Even if it was genuinely a coincidence. With a sigh, you moved along.
Gwilym lifted his eyes from the page he was reading and looked around. He felt as if there was someone he knew nearby, but as his eyes scanned the room, he saw only strangers. Movement by the window made him look out, but he missed who or whatever it was that created the motion. He blinked in that direction, his mind drawing up - for some reason - an image of you standing there.
Something resembling disappointment crossed over his heart, but he pushed it down. He didn’t need to be wishing to see you anywhere outside of class. His phone ringing brought a welcome distraction.
“Hello?” he said, picking it up.
“Gwilym, hi!” chirped the voice of Dr. Bennett. “I just wanted to check on you and see how the first day went.”
“You’ve just given birth, and you’re worried about me?” he returned. “Emily, that’s ridiculous.”
“Don’t scold me, Gwil,” she answered lightly. “How’d the class go?”
“If you must know, it went just fine,” he told her. “I’ve been introduced to everyone. You have a very talented class there.”
“Excited as I am to have my son, I am a bit bummed I won’t get to teach them,” she agreed. “But, I’ve left them in very capable hands. I’m glad it’s going smoothly.”
“It really is,” he said.
“What do you think of Y/N?” she asked.
His chest tightened.
“She seems like a lovely girl,” he said stiffly.
“She’s a real star,” she went on.
“I haven’t heard her sing yet, but from the way you and Dr. Curtis talk, I feel I should have a handkerchief on me or something.”
She laughed. “She’ll impress you I’m sure. Be careful there.”
He paused, wanting to know more about what she meant. It was an odd thing to say about a student. Was she joking? Was she giving him some warning about who you were? Were you not what you seemed? He wanted answers, but decided to ignore it entirely. That was the best way to deal with something like this, in his opinion.
“How are you and the baby?” Gwilym asked, desperate to change the subject.
“Perfect, so far,” she said. “Just ready to get home.”
“I’m sure.”
“Hey, Gwil,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“Please keep me updated on everything,” she requested. “I’ll come and see the show at the end of the semester, but I want to know how everything comes together.”
“Will do,” he promised.
“Thanks,” she said warmly.
“You get some rest now,” he said.
“Will do,” she replied, and he heard the smile in her voice.
They said goodbye and hung up. Gwilym’s mind still reeled with her warning. Be careful there. Be careful of what, exactly? Perhaps it was better if he never knew.
On Thursday, you showed up to class early, as usual. The auditorium was empty except for Gwilym. Your heart rate quickened as you approached him.
“Morning,” you said brightly.
He turned his head and smiled at you. “Hello, Y/N. You’re early.”
“I’m always early,” you said with a shrug. “How’s the book?”
“I’m only three chapters in, but it is interesting,” he replied. “Fond as I am of Shakespeare’s plays, it’s his poetry that really gets me.”
“Oh, really?” you wondered.
He nodded. “Yes. Poetry and songs I think are the most intimate forms of writing. The authors put their feelings out and wrap them up in beautiful language. And somehow, that makes others feel it. As if it were their own. If that makes any sense.”
You pondered his words a moment. You thought of every time you’d sung in your car at the top of your lungs, the words of a song just punching you right in the heart.
“It makes sense,” you said. “I didn’t realize you were so into that stuff.”
“There’s a lot about me that may surprise you, Y/N,” he said.
You met his gaze, searching for the meaning behind that. He cut his eyes away before you did, clearing his throat.
“Would you like to get started?” he asked. “We can begin with your solo, ‘The Boy Next Door’.”
“Sounds good,” you agreed. “Want me to sing acapella or play piano?”
“You sing, I’ll accompany you,” he returned.
“You play piano?” you questioned. “You certainly are full of surprises.”
The teasing tone felt a bit unfamiliar to you. Were you flirting with him? If you were, was it wrong?
“I play piano, but not very well,” he replied humbly. “I can play a simple tune like this.”
You smiled as you both took the stage, you stopping in the center and he taking a seat on the piano bench. You waited for his cue, and then when he began, you opened your mouth and began to sing.
“The moment I saw him smile
I knew he was just my style
My only regret is we’ve never met
Though I dream of him all the while
But he doesn’t know I exist
No matter how I may persist
So it’s clear to see, there’s no hope for me
Though I live at fifty-one-thirty-”
Gwilym missed a note on the piano and stopped, bringing you to a halt as well. You shot him a questioning look.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m not good enough to turn the pages on time.”
“Oh, is that all?” you teased. “Here, I’ll stand next to the piano and turn the pages for you.”
“I’m very much obliged,” he returned.
You walked over and stood to the side, looking expectantly at him.
“From ‘so it’s clear,’” he told you.
“So it’s clear to see, there’s no hope for me
Though I live at fifty-one-thirty-five Kensington Avenue-”
You turned the page.
“And he lives at fifty-one-thirty three.
How can I ignore the boy next door
I love him more than I can say
Doesn’t try to please me
Doesn’t even tease me
And he never sees me glance his way…”
You stole a glance at Gwilym as you held this note. His face was screwed up in concentration as his eyes followed the music. His hands, which were large and smooth, moved gracefully. His long fingers pressed the keys with ease. He looked very handsome.
“And though I’m heart sore, the boy next door
Affection for me won’t display
I just adore him
So I can’t ignore him
The boy next door…”
You held the note and came off of it slowly and softly. Gwilym did the same with his final note. As the song closed, you looked at each other. A moment of softness passed between your gazes. Gwilym was beginning to understand his friend’s warning. You were so...charming.
“That was very good,” he said.
“Thank you,” you said sweetly.
“I’m impressed you knew all the words,” he remarked.
“I’ve been a fan of the movie since I was little,” you told him. “I literally wanted to be Judy Garland.”
“Well, you don’t have very far to go,” he said. “Although, I believe Y/N Y/L/N is perfect just as she is. You don’t have to be Judy Garland.”
Heat came to your cheeks.
“Thank you,” you said again, looking at the floor.
You paused, searching for something to say in return, some compliment to pay him.
“The piano playing was -”
“Please, Y/N, let’s not go there,” he said, a smile pulling at his lips. “My piano playing is absolute shit.”
He held his breath as the words left his mouth, fearful you might take offense to the language or feel he was getting too comfortable. When you clapped your hand over your mouth to stifle the most adorable giggle he’d ever heard, he was relieved.
“It wasn’t shit!” you protested. “Really, it wasn’t!”
“I appreciate you trying to bolster me, but the most redeeming part was playing through your page turn, which was executed flawlessly.”
You laughed some more.
“Well, I am known around here for my page turning skills,” you joked.
“I have a feeling you’ll be known for many things, Y/N,” he said. “Including turning pages for barely capable pianists.”
Your smile lingered on your lips as your classmates began entering the theater. Sloan eyed you questioningly as he saw how close you were standing to Gwilym. When had you drifted that way? You hadn’t felt yourself move.
Tucking your hair behind your ear, you stepped away, back toward center stage. Gwilym got to his feet and followed you, turning to address the other students.
“Welcome back, everyone,” he said.
He took roll quickly before getting into rehearsal. He and Lily were working on their early scene in the wagon. You watched him ease her into comfort with him. She was six, just like her character, Tootie, and though not shy, did need to warm up to people. Sloan’s sister took a seat in the audience, and you saw her soften as she looked on as well.
“Isn’t that sweet?” you said to Sloan as she approached you.
She looked over at Gwilym going back and forth with her niece.
“Precious,” she said flatly. “You and Gwilym seemed pretty cozy.”
You rolled your eyes, but knew you still looked flushed.
“Oh, please,” you said. “We were just practicing.”
“Y/N, look at me,” she said with uncharacteristic seriousness.
You did.
“I know we’re joking about how hot he is and all that, but it’s not smart to think any further than that,” she said. “He’s a professor - at least right now - and both of you could get into trouble.”
Defensiveness surged through you.
“You’re talking about it like we’ve been sleeping together or something,” you said, harsher than you meant to. “You’re the one who’s been making the jokes. Nothing’s happened, so spare me the lecture.”
“Y/N, I’m just trying to be a friend,” she said.
“Look, it’s perfectly normal to connect with a teacher,” you returned. “It’s nothing more than that.”
She looked you over, skepticism coming over her sharp features.
“If you say so, Y/N,” she said with a sigh. “But, for the record, I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you were looking at him when we walked in. Ever.”
She walked away, leaving you stricken where you stood.
#gwilym lee#gwilym lee x reader#gwilym lee imagine#gwilym lee x you#BoRhap#BoRhap cast#borhap boys#borhap imagine#borhap cast imagine#borhap cast x reader#borhap boys imagine#borhap boys x reader#Queen#bohemian rhapsody#bohemian rhapsody imagine#Brian May#brian may x reader#brian may imagine#brian may x you#soft in love series
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Sunshine (a M0llym4uk sickfic)
This is something of a gift for @just-a-nervous-bean for their wonderful artwork of Mollymauk, which can be found here and here
Spellings stolen from the ever-talented @dodecahedral ‘s fic here because I couldn’t get them out of my head.
Modern AU where Molly is in the circus and Caleb is researching at the University, they are in a new-ish relationship together. No need to know the chars really. They’re soft boyfriends and Molly is miserable when he’s sick. That’s all.
Mollymauk is, predictably, late.
Caleb Widogast expects this. That’s why he planned a date for the cafe in the museum where he is working anyway, a place he is always happy to sit and read. The cafe is a pleasant break after the dusty hush of the archives; huge windows let in what is left of the wintery daylight from outside, illuminating the white walls and low, modern furniture. There is space for Caleb’s laptop and a stack of books beside his coffee cup. If he had his boyfriend and his cat here, the scene would be perfect-
That’s when Mollymauk arrives. The museum attracts members of enough different species that his being a tiefling with curled horns is not unusual. What draws attention is his artistic attire; He is wearing that ridiculous coat which doesn’t fasten high enough, a shirt cut in a deep v-neck to show tattooed flesh and a roguish grin. Flurries of snow have settled in his hair and he shakes his head like a dog before coming to sit beside Caleb.
“Hallo, looks like you got caught in the snow.” Caleb rises to hug his boyfriend and kiss him on his cheek.The tiefling’s lavender skin is ice-cold under his lips.
“Little bit.” Mollymauk sniffs and shivers as he sheds his coat, prompting Caleb to pass him a handful of napkins which he uses to first dry his face and then blow his nose. As he does so, Caleb gathers up his papers into his backpack and readies himself for a jaunt around the museum before closing time.
It is lovely just to spend time together, to talk and question and wonder about the exhibits. This thing between them is still so new; he is still learning Molly’s tastes and interests and delightfully surprised by the tiefling’s breadth of knowledge. Caleb enjoys hearing Molly name plants and animals or the types of dye used in textiles, notices Molly light up for a particular colour or design. He also notices Molly sounds sniffly.
If any other person in the world was sniffling like that around Caleb, he would be shooting them a look fierce enough to kill a man while wishing to die himself. When it’s Molly, he doesn’t like it, but it doesn’t make him want to crawl out of his skin. This must be love.
He watches Molly from the other end of the gallery. The tiefling is more colourful and appealing than the oil paintings he stands in front of. Not just his flamboyantly colourful trousers or the glitter of jewellery on his horns and the tattoos on his skin, but the lithe grace of his movements. Mollymauk tilts his head like a peacock to examine a detail, his slender fingers clenching with desire for the rough surface he has been firmly told not to touch. Framed by dun-coloured still-lifes, Molly is vibrantly animated, enchantingly alive; never more so than when he sneezes so suddenly that it causes him to stumble.
“--aah'YZSSHH-iew!!”
The sound is sharp enough to spark aggressive echoes from the high ceiling and make several patrons, including Caleb himself, jump and turn their heads.
“Sorry!” Molly stage-whispers and swipes a thumb under his nose with another wet sniffle.
Caleb feels a burst of amusement at how each sneeze makes Molly’s tail lash wildly, putting a few fragile exhibits in danger. It happens a few times while they are hidden in the low light of the illuminated manuscripts that hold particular interest for Caleb, and again between the cases of iridescent butterflies whose colours make Molly clutch his heart and plan a dozen more tattoos. Caleb is resting against Molly’s arm for that last one, so he feels the tiefling yank himself away and stagger double. His hands don’t quite make it to his face and so clench helplessly in the air. He looks quite undone by the force of it and it takes him a minute to sniffle himself back to composure.
“Gesundheit!” Caleb tucks a hand round Molly’s waist for an affectionate squeeze. “You sound like you’re catching a cold?”
“Pffff.” Molly spreads his hands in a shrug,seeming to take in his lavender skin, his extravagant clothing and the sheer assuredness of his stance, as if he is too fabulous to possibly get sick.
So Caleb puts it out of his mind.
……………………..
Caleb’s phone buzzes him awake on Saturday morning.
It’s the weekend, no archive for him today and no shifts at the University Library either. A rare free day. Caleb stretches his legs and hears a questioning -mrrp- from the cat at the end of his bed. He needs coffee and he needs to pee, but he could pretend he doesn’t and stay under the covers for at least another half an hour. That sounds really good.
His phone buzzes again.
M.T -- You free today? Come over?
Caleb -- Thought you had rehearsal?
In fact Caleb was certain. He has an infallible memory for details like this, even more so when they concern his access to a delightfully attractive partner like Mollymauk.
M.T-- Cancelled. Yasha is away all wknd im lonely :(:(
Cancelling is unusual but stranger things have happened. This is a lovely surprise. He takes a moment to recalibrate his idea of the day and then rises from bed. Frumpkin follows, winding dangerously between his ankles. A glance out of the window reveals more flurrying snow but it will be no match for his old overcoat, his heaviest boots and thick scarf. His own roommate, Nott, is out at work, but he leaves the heating on for Frumpkin and heads out into the wilds.
“Hello darling!” Molly gives him a big smile when he opens the door, but doesn’t swoop in and kiss him, which is unusual.
The heating is cranked up high, which is unusual too.
He follows Molly up the stairs to their first floor apartment. This is still relatively new territory to Caleb, but welcoming. His boyfriend’s housemate Yasha, often absent, has filled all available window sills with houseplants to which Molly has added candles, crystals and new-age nicknacks of all stripes. It smells faintly of weed, sage and cooking. Molly ushers him into the living room where there is one unusual addition- what he knows to be Molly’s duvet is draped over the sofa in front of an open laptop showing a paused TV show.
“Can I get you a glass of water, tea, gin, milk, prosecco or anything else?” Molly suggests. His voice sounds wrecked and thick.
“Whatever you’re having. Molly are--” Caleb tries to get a closer look at him but he darts to the kitchen and putters almost aggressively with the kettle.
“Schatz,you sound-” He tries again.
“Tea, then. Lemon-ginger, redbush, green, green with passionfruit, chai or normal?”
“No preference.” Caleb actually has to put a hand on the tiefling’s back to calm his businesslike cheerfulness. “Come here-” He manages to get a grip on Molly’s shoulder and through leverage more than strength is able to turn the tiefling to face him. Molly is a good two inches taller, not counting his horns, but he slouches obligingly against the counter to put them face to face. Locks of his silken hair fall over his down-turned brow and Caleb pushes them behind his ear with a practiced, tender touch.
“What’s the matter, hm? You’re being a little… erratic.”
“And I’m usually so predictable. Boring, even.” His boyfriend laughs, showing sharp white eyeteeth.
There it is again, though, that rasp on his voice. It sounds like it hurts him to talk. And something else, too. Thick violet lashes flutter and his ruby eyes squint closed as Molly shifts to soft, panting breaths through his mouth. Caleb is caught as off-guard when the tiefling shoves him gently to one side and sneezes hard.
"Heh-IZSSCHH--iew!
It knocks him double, hands cringing weakly towards his face but not reaching in time to make any kind of cover. Before Caleb can comment, Molly takes a shaky step back and sneezes again and then a third time, retreating away towards the back wall and punctuating each with a heartfelt, “Fuck.”
“Gesundheit.” Caleb offers.
Molly straightens and gives him a cringing, apologetic look. His eyes are watering something fierce and Caleb thinks he can see how ticklish his nose is, even from five feet away. The poor thing is blushed to a deep violet and he can see his nostrils flaring uncertainty. Molly hovers his hands tentatively in front of his face for a moment… lowers them… raises them quickly and draws a ragged “aaah-” before - “YZSSHH-iew!! Fuck.”
Caleb doesn’t quite know how to react and defaults to standing still, hands clenched uselessly at his side and desperately wishing he had his cat to keep them busy.
“Hold on... “ Molly groans and scrambles out of the room with his hands still cupped guiltily over his face. Caleb tracks the sound of feet along the corridor of the bathroom. A door slam, toilet paper yanked from the roll and a thick nose blow followed by running water. Little husking coughs and soft thumps like Molly tapping is on his chest with a fist to ease it.
So that explains the weirdness. Mollymauk sounds miserably sick. That’s all. That’s good, on the scale of things. That Caleb can deal with.
He finishes preparing the tea as he waits for his boyfriend to return, carries both cups to the sofa and makes himself comfortable.
When Mollymauk returns he has added a hoodie over his outfit and is carrying a half-empty toilet roll in one hand.
“You did catch a cold.” Caleb manages to make it a comfort and a question and an accusation all in one.
Under the force of his voice, Molly raises his hands in defeat and retreats to sit on the sofa beside Caleb, then collapses into a full-body slump with his head tilted against the cushions and his eyes closed, as though if he can’t see his boyfriend then he can’t be seen either.
“I’m sorry, darling.” He mumbles.
“Whatever for?”
The tiefling rolls his face away and buries his face into the sofa cushions with a pitiful little cough. “Not warning you I was sick before you came over. And I kissed you yesterday even though my throat was getting sore. I just- really wanted to see you today, so I thought I could just not tell you. You can go now.”
Caleb actually laughs. Molly can be so melodramatic when he wants to be. He scoots closer to the miserable hunch of tiefling and places an affectionate hand on his shoulder, rubbing soothing circles through the thick sweater. Molly begins to uncurl, uncertainly, an exotic flower inching towards the warmth of the human’s gaze.
“What makes you think I wouldn’t want to come over?” Caleb queries.
Molly shrugs. “I’m disgusting. And you’re-” A handwave at Caleb’s physical form,
“I am a fragile waif of a wizard who could be knocked over by a stiff breeze. What is your point?”
“If I get you sick you’ll get behind on your research paper. I know you can’t afford not to work right now and I-” he swallows in exaggerated dread as he reaches the crux of argument. “-aaaand Nott will kill me.”
They both share a moment to imagine Caleb’s roommate and best friend coming after Molly like a feral whirlwind.
“Okay, so that is a fair point.” Caleb concedes. “Nott doesn’t have to know. The rest, however, is nonsense. Now look at me, schatz, and let me see how you’re doing.”
He dips a hand to Molly’s chin and tilts his head to get a better view. Molly does look pale, which given his exotic lavender colouring means that his cheeks are more of a washed-out lilac, in contrast to a darker blush where he has been scrubbing at his poor nose. There is a general, unwell cast to his features and a thick, congested sound to his breathing. Caleb doesn’t find it disgusting at all, if anything it makes him feel soft and fond. He plants a kiss to the tiefling’s forehead and reaches to the side of his neck to feel for his glands.
“Owww…” Mollymauk whines, predictably, and tries to duck away.
“Sore, then?” Caleb notes. “How’s your throat?”
“Sore as well.” Molly snuffles thickly then turns and blows his nose into some more toilet tissue.
“Poor sweetheart, you got it bad, didn’t you?”
“Maybe.” He says meekly.
A soft, pathetic snuffle and Mollymauk finally gives up on keeping any space between them. He snuggles up into Caleb’s arms and lays his head shamelessly against his boyfriend’s shoulder, nestling in for warmth. His tail slips between their nested calves, anchoring them.
“Have you had any medicine?” Caleb asks.
Molly nods. “I had some, but it didn’t seem to be working so I had some more…” He shrugs in the direction of a bottle and a sticky teaspoon on the sideboard.
“Okay, that’s good. No wonder you were a little loopy when I came in. Why don’t you drink your tea while it’s hot?”
They both sip tea in silence for a few minutes. Molly draws his duvet up over them both and tugs it up to his chin. The moment is interrupted by a few quick panting breaths and a chaotic- “ --aah'YZSSHH-iew!” of a sneeze that thrusts him forward, whole body shuddering.
He straightens groggily, as though it took a lot of him. “So no romantic outing today?”
“Absolutely not. Only romantic couch cuddles and possibly you having a nap. Do you think you could sleep for a bit?”
“Not if I keep- keep --'YZZSSChieww! Fuck.”
“Gesundheit!”
Molly keeps his head down and groans.
“So. Sleep, yes?” Caleb tries to be businesslike, which is difficult with a ridiculously purple and obviously miserable tiefling moping beside him. “Do you feel like going back to bed or staying here on the couch?”
Molly considers, head tilted. “I can’t just go to bed in the middle of the day?”
“Of course you can, you do it all the time. You are the queen of naps.”
Molly wavers, sniff-sniffing damply and shivering where he sits.
Caleb stands and offers both hands to haul him to his feet, as if his slight frame could be any actual assistance to his more athletic partner.
“Come, schatz, let me take you to bed. You can have a nap or watch TV and I will sit beside you and read, then make you something nice and hot for lunch. Yes?”
Molly accepts the symbolic gesture and follows him meekly up the stairs. He pauses on the threshold with a look of sudden dread-
“My room is-”
Too late, Caleb has opened the door. Molly’s room looks as though the wardrobe department of his entire circus troupe has exploded out of the closet, where it is mixed with empty cans, bags, shoes and new-age nonsense. Caleb, who has never had enough possessions to cover the floor of a room, just rolls his eyes, more impressed than offended. The overall effect is not unwelcoming; the air is scented with musky nagchampa and the light through the fabric and fairy-lights pinned over the window is diffuse and gentle. Endearingly, there is a distinct, Mollymauk sized dip in the centre of the mattress. Extra blankets and pillows are arranged to make a nest.
“I don’t mind. It smells nice.”
“Thagks. I feel so accepted.” Molly jokes but his partner just nods.
“You should. I told you I do not mind if you are a little messy around the edges. Everyone is, if you look close enough. Now, lie down.”
In a few moments they have retrieved the duvet from downstairs and settled beside each other on the bed with Molly’s horned head cradled carefully in his human’s lap. They have enough practice at this that Caleb can pet his back with one hand while reading his book with the other. It’s not as easy as it could be, however, because Molly keeps shifting and sniffling and scrubbing his nose itchily against Caleb’s upper thigh.
“That is a little distracting, love, is that the effect you intended?” Caleb can’t keep the warmth out of his voice.
Disappointingly, Molly shakes his head. “Not really, sorry. Ugh, I feel s- -s-ohh- fuck- ” his voice cracks and wavers up the octave. He clearly needs to sneeze again, badly. His expression is congested and miserable, too overwhelmed by the sensation to talk.
“Sneezy?” Caleb suggests.
Molly nods, shakes his head like a dog with water in it’s ears, gives an unhappy little groan. The irritation is obvious in the hazy cast of his eyes, the uncertain waver to the corner of his lip.
“So sneezy.” Caleb teases, fondly. “Look like you caught this cold right in your nose.”
He reaches to give the offending organ a gentle pet, fingertips tweaking the fine purple tip. Molly responds with an almost comically deep inhale and a wounded look before executing a declarative sneeze over the side of the bed.
"... --aah'YZSSHH-iew!
“Gesundh-”
“ah-YIIZSSHHww!”
Caleb’s book is long abandoned by this point. His attention is fully commanded by his beloved tiefling who is trapped in a seemingly unbreakable cycle of chest-swelling gasp-- head tilt back-- hard punctuating sneeze into his steepled hands-- swear- -gasp again.
It does wind down eventually, following a few particularly vicious, three-syllable-
“ahh- IIZSSCHH-iEW!”
“Fuck… tired…” He finishes.
“Impressive. Poor liebling.” Caleb sighs and hands him a pack of tissues from his own pocket. “I’ve never seen you like this..”
Mollymauk shugs. “I don’t often get sick, it’s the-” a gesture that takes in all his inhuman glory. “Thank fuck. Guess I’m making up for it. I feel like balls.”
“I am not surprised.” Caleb waits until Molly has blown his nose to the best of his ability, then scoots closer again. “Now, what can I do for you?”
“Nothing… I’m just going to have a crappy weekend…” Molly sighs dramatically, running his hands through his hair. “When I said practice was cancelled, I cancelled on them cause I felt too rough. I’m going to get so behind on learning my new act…”
“Stop whining, it doesn’t suit you.” Caleb shakes his head, reaching to settle the teifling’s curls back into place where he has mussed them up.
“Shan’t.” Oh yes, he’d forgotten that Molly is a brat.
“Then maybe I should go and leave you to your misery?” Caleb makes as though to rise, but predictably as clockwork his partner gives a whimper of loss and reaches for him.
“No- stay with me-?” His ruby eyes are big and pleading, tears actually beginning to rise. Gods, Molly feels completely pathetic right now. Luckily, Caleb cannot resist him even like this and gives in at once, his point made.
“Ah, very well, but I will have no more whimpering. I know you feel very poorly, schatz, but just let me help you.”
“Okay.” Molly snuffles into his sleeve and nods.
“First I think you could have some more tea, and we could even put a shot of whiskey in it. Then I really want you to try and sleep. What if I don’t even read? You could have my full attention, yes?” He sweetens the command with a tender hand rubbing over his boyfriend’s temples and down the sides of his nose. Molly softens at once, practically purring.
In no time at all they are rearranged on the bed with a steaming cup of tea. Caleb leans up against the headboard and spreads his legs, tapping his chest to indicate that Molly should settle between them. It takes a little shuffling to settle the tiefing’s horned head against his chest, but he feels Molly relax into the embrace at once.
His partner is a soothing weight, anchoring him in the present as Molly always does.
He finds he does not mind the snuffly breaths and little coughs smothered against his chest; the intimacy of the moment is more than worth it.
“This is nice.”
“See, if your head is elevated, you won’t have so much congestion when you sleep.” He explains.
“That’s really smart,” the tiefling murmurs sleepily. “I always said you were a genius.”
A moment of calm. The winter sun comes out from behind the clouds and a ray of light slips through a gap in the hangings to drape over the bed. The crystals on the windowsill dance with minute rainbows. He feels Molly smile. “Sunshine.” He says sleepily.
“That’s me.” Caleb agrees. “Just rest, Mollymauk. I’ve got you.”
And he does, he does. Even with Molly like this, it’s better than books and museum dates and circus shows. It is better than anything Caleb can think of.
#sickfic#sneezefic#I literally never write just a normal modern setting#so that was kind of fun#Molly is a drama queen
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quiet on widow’s peak (10)
pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall
rating: teen & up
tags: paranormal investigator, mystery, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan
word count: 2.8k (this chapter), 32.4k (total)
summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.
read this chapter on ao3 or here!
They try everything. Sophie handles the cameras and phones while Phil and Chris spend way too long cleaning up files on their laptops and doing what they can to get any clear images out of the mess. It's no use. By the time PJ returns from driving Dan home, all they've accomplished is figuring out that the corruption is on their devices, not on the exported files. No matter what they do, the videos and pictures they took have the effect of being scrambled, like someone has pressed fast forward and also put a noise filter over them. The sound is no better - there's a high-pitched sort of ringing in all of the video and audio recordings that Phil can't understand the source of. Some files won't open altogether.
"How does this even happen?" Sophie mutters, bent over Chris' phone with a furrowed brow. "There's nothing left. Like, at all."
"We still have footage from the first night," says Phil. He's trying his very best to stay positive, but this is unbelievably frustrating. They experienced something last night, even if they can't agree on what it was, and they're supposed to start driving back to Brighton before it gets too dark. They don't have time for this. "With the shadow, you know."
His friends make grunts of irritated agreement. Phil knows that all of them are disappointed and a little angry about the lack of evidence for their hellish night, almost like they went through it for nothing, but he doesn't have anything comforting to say.
Phil has never been very good at comfort. He's good at distracting people and forcing optimism, but seeing such visceral emotions from his usually mild housemates makes him want to retreat into himself. He takes his glasses off to rub at his eyes, fighting off a budding headache.
"That's not really enough for a video, though, is it," says PJ. "I mean, you're not going to convince anyone with just a shadow."
"Well, we can't stay to try and get more," Chris says with a little huff.
"I can," Phil points out. He doesn't think he wants to, really, because this whole situation skeeves him out and going back alone would not help, but he needs there to be a purpose to his friends' suffering or he'll never forgive himself. He stares at his unfocused laptop screen, full of files that don't work, and wonders if they're going to bother to try and stop him. "I mean, you guys all have work tomorrow. I don't have anywhere to be. And I kind of want to see this through, so I can, like… take the train home when it's done."
There's a moment of quiet. Phil feels his shoulders tense at the possibility that he's going to have to argue his way into this. It's his job. Plus, he already knows his parents are going to have a problem with him staying longer to investigate, and fighting with yet another set of well-meaning people is more than he wants to do.
"Normally I'd be like, whatever," says PJ. "You know what you're doing and you do this sort of shit alone all the time. But, Phil, how the fuck do you think the paralysis will work if you're by yourself?"
"I won't try to sleep there," Phil decides, shoving his glasses back onto his face. "That's the only time it's happened, right? When people are already falling asleep?"
PJ's mouth twists unhappily, but he doesn't protest further. Phil wonders if he's actually won this argument or if PJ is just too tired from bickering with Dan about cryptids, or whatever they talked about on the drive. Thinking about Dan is a distraction, and not exactly a welcome one. Phil doesn't know how he feels - or even if he should be feeling anything at all - and he doesn't want to add that crisis on top of the one he's already dealing with.
"So you're just going to go there," says Chris. "Alone. And then poke around and go home?"
"That's what I do in most haunts."
"Fair play. Carry on."
It's almost funny how quickly PJ's expression nosedives into aghast. "What? That's it? You're not putting up more of a fight?"
"Why bother?" Chris asks with a little shrug. "He's a stubborn bellend."
"Hey," Phil half-heartedly protests. His friends don't deign to acknowledge it.
"You should bring a sigil with you," says Sophie. Her voice is soft and tired, but her eyes are kind in a way that PJ and Chris don't bother to be. "Why don't you bring something down that you'd have on you, and we'll all put something on it?"
"Really?" Chris asks. It's impossible to tell what he's thinking. Phil doesn't know if he thinks the idea is good or stupid, but he nods after Sophie does. "Alright, we can do that."
PJ is looking off into the distance while cogs seem to turn in his head. "Something you'll have physically on you, Philly, since we can't put it on your skin itself. Let us draw on your glasses or jacket or -"
"Knickers," Chris chimes in.
"Or your knickers," PJ agrees, far more solemnly than Phil thinks is necessary.
It doesn't seem like it'll actually help, but Phil feels so much affection and gratitude for his friends wanting to protect him in any way they can that he doesn't argue.
Phil doesn't really like the idea of going to the Wilkins place alone, either, but he's a lot more comfortable doing that than dragging his innocent friends along for the awful ride again. He thinks about Sophie's kind eyes staring up at the ceiling blankly, the way PJ gasped when he woke up, Chris trying to hide his own concern about the situation, and he feels his resolve stiffen even more.
Maybe he is a stubborn bellend. This is his responsibility, though. It's not right for him to keep asking for help. Phil lets the conversation flow to what snacks they're going to get for the drive and thinks about how he's going to break the situation to his parents.
--
It doesn't feel as satisfying to shut the door of his childhood bedroom, now. Maybe it's the fact that he's too mature to slam it, or maybe it's that the room itself isn't the haven it used to be. All the neutral colours and boring pieces of art are like a constant visual reminder that his life isn't here anymore.
He doesn't want it to be here. That isn't the problem. It feels stupid if he thinks about it for too long, but he grew up in this house. He's got scars from the sharp corners of the old furniture and more memories than he has in any other singular location. Sure, it makes sense that his parents are retiring and want to downsize from a big, empty house, but Phil really isn't comfortable with this level of change. He kind of assumed he'd always be able to come visit and feel at home again.
Phil sinks onto the mattress. For a long moment, he seriously considers going to sleep. It's barely past seven, but he didn't sleep well this morning. At least if he's unconscious he doesn't need to deal with the crushing weight of his parents' disappointment and worry.
The decision is made for him when his phone buzzes with a notification from Tumblr.
tell ur parents thanks for letting me stay and tell pj thanks for bringing me home and tell urself thanks for the uhhhh experience lmao its deffo not one im gonna forget anytime soon
Phil huffs a laugh and gets comfortable. You're very welcome. I'll tell them when I come out of hiding.
arent you in a very small car on your way to brighton mate… how tf do you manage to hide in there when youre huge
Oh I'm not in the car, I'm still at my parents' place. It's a long story and I hate typing a bunch on my phone. Phil grimaces at himself for the way that sounds, like he's cutting off any questions Dan might have before they ask. He sends another message. Voice call me on Skype or something if you wanna hear about my no good, very bad day.
He doesn't expect Dan to actually call him, let alone immediately, but Phil's phone starts buzzing with a Skype call before he's collected himself enough to find his headphones. He's still detangling while he answers with a sheepish, "Oh, hello!"
"Hi," says Dan. Their voice is low and amused, and Phil can't believe how nice it is to hear after only a handful of hours.
"I'm woefully unprepared, as per usual," Phil rambles, finally getting his headphones in and grinning at the bland wall in front of him. Nobody is here to judge him for it. "You, er, got home alright?"
"Obviously yes," says Dan. "So, you had a bad day?"
"'Cause you had a bad day," Phil sings back to them. The sound of Dan's giggle makes any embarrassment worth it, he thinks. "Yeah, uh, it was rough. So we wanted to look over the footage from last night to see what the camera caught, y'know, but… I don't know how, I don't have an explanation for it, but everything is corrupted. Our audio, our video, our photos. They're all beyond repair."
There's a few moments of silence, where Phil would think Skype had frozen if he couldn't still hear the faint music on Dan's end. Then, "What? You - what? We don't have anything?"
Phil likes the sound of 'we'. He probably shouldn't.
"We tried everything," Phil explains, his heart feeling heavy all over again at the reminder that they spent hours terrified for nothing. "But the corruption isn't even in the exported files, it's on our devices themselves. Chris' phone, our cameras… they're all fucked."
"If you're swearing, it must be fucking serious," says Dan. Phil wants to interrupt then, explain that his policy on bleeping out curses is more about staying monetized and keeping his parents happy than any personal morals, but Dan has already shot past the topic at the speed of light. "So basically we've got no proof we were ever there, let alone that something weird happened - which I'm not saying is some kind of fucking paranormal shit, by the way, but it was weird - and now you've got nothing to make a video with and I never should have told you about this place to begin with?"
"Dan, breathe." Phil waits until he's sure that Dan is at least trying to follow the directive. "It's okay. I'm glad you brought me here. And that's why I'm still in town - I'm going to get more footage."
"Not alone, you're not," Dan says fiercely.
"Peej and the other Scoobs already went home. I just didn't go with them."
"I don't care where your friends are," says Dan. Phil can almost see their hand waving dismissively. "You're not going back there alone. End of story."
The clear insistence in Dan's voice should be getting Phil's back up against the wall. He hates being told what to do with his own projects, needs to be in complete control whenever possible. Instead, he finds himself thinking that it's sweet of Dan to worry like that.
Christ, but he's got it bad.
"I'm still in town either way," Phil says, picking at a loose thread in his sleeve absent-mindedly. "Which my parents are, uh, not thrilled about."
"Really?" Dan sounds genuinely surprised. "They seem like they really love you, mate."
Love has never been the issue. That feels strange to think, cocky almost, but Phil has never really worried that his parents won't love him. Even with the secrets he keeps from them and their fears about the way he lives his life, the worst he's ever expected is disappointment. That just isn't the way their relationship works.
"Oh, they do," says Phil. "But they hate my job, and they think that it's stupid of me to keep investigating a place that clearly doesn't want to be investigated. They believe in ghosts and demons and all that jazz, y'know, they think I'm inviting evil into my life, so they said they'd let me stay here while I work but that we're going to have a 'serious discussion' about my life trajectory when I'm done."
"Ouch. I'd hate that conversation."
"Trust me, it's going to suck. I just got the preview today, and I already know I'm going to want to run away to Iceland."
There's a beat. Then, Dan says, "At least when you're there you can look into the hidden people. You know, the Icelandic elves or whatever that live in a parallel world. That seems up your alley."
"Your mum lives in a parallel world," Phil mutters.
Dan giggles. The sound of it is soft, like they're aware of their own volume, and Phil remembers that Dan lives in some kind of housing with a bunch of other students. He still loves the sound, so much so that he drifts into a nonsensical daydream of making Dan laugh as much as possible and almost misses Dan's voice coming through his headphones again.
"Since you're still in town," Dan is saying, and Phil makes a conscious effort to tune back in, "you should come by the shop tomorrow. I have an early class, but I'm starting work at eleven."
The prospect of seeing Dan again is such a good one that Phil doesn't even hesitate before he's agreeing. It'll be a bit of an effort to get out of bed early enough to avoid his parents and catch Dan for a good amount of time, but Phil feels like it's definitely going to be worth it. He likes Dan, likes being around them if absolutely nothing else, and the ill-advised butterflies in his stomach aren't enough to make him fall on the side of finding this a bad idea.
It isn't until after he's hung up and getting himself a sandwich so he doesn't have to eat an awkward dinner with his parents that Phil realises he's going to have Dan all to himself tomorrow. Well, to himself and to whatever patrons come into the coffee shop. The force of those warm eyes, just focused on him… it's going to test Phil in a way he's not sure he's ready for.
He turns away from the fridge and almost jumps out of his skin.
"Mum," he complains, free hand clutched to his chest. "Don't just stand there, you scared me!"
A smile tugs at Kath's lips, but her arms are crossed and her eyes are staring into Phil's very soul. He feels cornered all of a sudden, like he ought to be clawing for escape.
"Philip," she says, all warmth. There's that slight edge that he remembers so clearly from mishaps as a child, but for the most part it seems like she isn't here to lecture him. He imagines that's going to come from both of them. "This thing that you insist on doing… it's dangerous. You must know that, love."
Phil doesn't actually know that. For the most part, his career hasn't given him anything but boredom and a complex about his own creativity. It's just the odd cases, the ones like the Wilkins house, that get him squirrelly.
"I know, mum," he says anyway. It isn't worth the argument. "But this is my job."
"It doesn't need to be," she presses, and Phil realises that his assumption was very, very wrong. They're going to divide and conquer. She continues like she hasn't noticed the way his whole body is tensing up. "You have such a wonderful mind and loads of ambition, my dear. And that imagination! Gosh, you could do anything that you set your mind to."
Anything he set his mind to - if he actually tried. Phil can hear the words that she isn't saying, that his dad will have no trouble voicing later, and he feels the familiar burn in his throat like he's going to start crying.
He won't. He doesn't cry much, as a rule, but he's well-acquainted with the sensation of holding it back.
"I know that I can," says Phil quietly. He looks down at his sandwich. He isn't very hungry anymore. "Mum, I'm not - I don't do this because I - you know, I like my job."
That's not exactly the truth anymore, but Phil is also well-acquainted with the art of lying to his mother. She doesn't need to know about the doubts that plague Phil, the way that he's felt like he's slogging through videos until they catch his interest properly. That's something he can figure out on his own. He forces his eyes back up at her to drive the point home with a sincere, pleading sort of look.
Her mouth twists, unhappily this time.
"You need to grow up sometime, Phil," she says, so soft that it almost cushions the devastating blow of her words.
Almost.
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The Five's Store au we were talking about?
yesssss the good kush. gonna do this in bullets because i feel like it might get long. jsyk i didn’t read through literally any of this so for whatever typos i made sorry lmao
five wakes up one day (post apocalypse) and thinks hey, you know what would be a completely rational and not at all impulsive idea to follow through with.
that’s right folks.
he’s gonna start a store.
the thing here is, five has absolutely no idea how business functions. sure he’s been part of a massive organization for years, but actually doing like,, store things? lol what
but that doesn’t matter because he’s gonna have a store and he can learn as he goes, no big deal
it’s a very big deal. five does not know how to manage a store.
it’s literally just called “five’s store.” how did he fund it? when did they build it? nobody knows. it’s like those fast-food restaurants that just pop up one night and you have no clue how they got there.
so. five’s got his store. this is nice. he didn’t actually know what he wanted to sell, but because his siblings couldn’t talk him out of this (read: they didn’t know it was happening until it was too late) they suggest things
baked goods! bicycles! books! postcards! writing materials! furniture! shut up klaus nobody is selling what you’re about to suggest shUT UP-
so five decides, fuck it, and just. shoves everything into this store. how? i don’t know. nobody does.
i literally have no ideas how stores work so im playing all of this by ear (vanya if you’re out there) but five also doesn’t know how stores work so it’s all good. gucci, if you will. five has probably stolen gucci before, for a mission or something idk just a thought
so five has his store but he’s so bad at managing it. first off, hiring employees didn’t occur to him. it’s just five in a building
customer: *walks in* hello can i have a cake pleasefive: sure :) five: *gives them a pie*customer: little boy, who do you think you are? i said a cakefive: cake? oh shit you’re right, sorry.five: *gives them a breadroll* :)customer: what a rude little boy! let me speak to your manager. is it even legal for a teen to be employed?(he passes as 15 ok props to aidan for being older than his character’s physical age lmao)five: ok *walks out into the back room* *walks back in* hi what can i help you with
the kids love him though. it’s always “mommy when can we shop at five’s again?” etc etc and five is like. shitposting irl. without realizing. he genuinely doesn’t know the difference between types of cheeses. he can’t tell you how an LED is different from a fluorescent bulb. he actually, literally, doesn’t know this shit.
why is he in charge of a store? fuck if i know, but im having fun with this
the siblings try to help out, but it ends with five kicking them out because they were “arranging the cacti wrong” or “messing with the bathroom toilet covers too much”
what are bathroom toilet covers? idk but we have them in my house and we only use them for christmas theyre the worst. imagine a fucking snowman staring at you everytime you want to take a shit. goodluck
five loves his store dearly tho
from offbrand cream cheese to onbrand sweatervests.
hm luther probably tries to help with the gardening section once in a while. he comes in and immediately has to hold back tears because “five when was the last time you watered these begonias.”
‘oh last week probably i dont know’
“five you have to water them at least once a day”
‘how was i supposed to know that’
“five you OWN a STORE-”
so yeah luther just. silently looms in the corner. watering plants. he scares asshole customers away even though he never says anything he just stands there. and waters the plants. some nice ladies initiate conversation and he just goes off about plant things which is so valid i love him
he’s like hargid but less rough around the edges. friendly giant. bfg but with plants. five never comments on how he takes a plant home occasionally.
diego sticks around the cutlery for reasons well known. he always tries to take knives home, to sharpen them, he claims, but five draws the fucking line there.
im making it sound like five owns some massive corporate building. no. his store is like a very compact IKEA. it has everything an ikea would, but it’s barely the size of a target. actually targets are pretty big. walmart maybe? dollar store? bigger than a dollar store though. hmmm just an average department store
lowes. that’s it. it’s like an ikea but the size of a lowes. five owns a lowes called Five’s Store.
okay so allison’s sole purpose is to stand outside and offer free autographs. she basically bribes people into going in. it’s like walmart. as soon as you go in you physically can’t go out without buying something.
jk she also helps five with his customer service because what the fuck it’s terrible. also funding. she’s a rich actress. all of them have an inheritance probably though, but five didn’t want to use reggies money because this is all a really huge “fuck you” to dad. cheers to him.
OH MY GOD ALLISON PROBABLY SHOOTS ADS FOR FIVE’S STORE (in future mentions will be abbreviated to FS for my convenience) AND THAT’S HOW THEY GET TRACTION YES
klaus and ben kinda uhhhh hang around. klaus is kicked out by five a lot because “don’t touch that” “get your hands off” “where did you get a chainsaw? put that down, klaus stop-” and all that usual average stuff, but when they need it klaus is willing to be a cashier for a little bit
ben is the only one with like. actually useful tips.
ben voice: no that’s not how you purchase items to sellfive: ???ben: here okay just go do something else and let the adults handle the money okay?
five can’t punch ben because he’s dead so HA. klaus probably makes ben corporeal though rip
ooo ben can also shelve things with his interdimensional wiggly worms! he can reach those high high shelves that have packaged stuff on them.
…costco? no i dont think FS is as massive as costco moving on
ben shelves stuff. we are eternally grateful for that. bless
vanya is the only actual competent adult you guys know this right. like sure the rest of them come CLOSE (mainly ben and allison, but ben doesn’t really count because he’s dead) but vanya is the only actual competent adult in this family (pogo dni)
so vanya does the taxes. rip to her. nobody likes taxes, but she’s taking one for the team
diego helps sometimes. tries to help sometimes. he brings her coffee does that count
kidding, diego knows how to taxes a little bit. emphasis on the “little” and “bit” and the silent “barely”
so yeah they all help out and i know i said five kicks them all out but i lied that never really happens. the store is like their side job but they’re not paid and it’s more of a hobby that got out of control
honestly five probably brings grace in and she bakes away because it makes her so happy that her cookies can make so many people happy. let her bake please.
claire probably owns an easy bake oven. just saying
yeah five has a store and it’s the literal best thing. it’s midnight so im gonna cut myself off but skjfsk this au is amazing thank you spencer for this golden concept
im gonna be honest all of this really reminds me of my mcdonalds five au which i might ramble about if requested lol
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My favourite thing
A/N: Some Stony flangst for you this Valentine’s day. Don’t worry, the angst is in the first half and the other half is pure fluff. So basically hurt/comfort. There is some mightbeinterpretedaspastStuckyifyousquint in there so if that’s not your thing you have been warned. I wrote this today after listening to the playlist I made for my boyfriend for Valentines. The songs are Snow patrol- Chasing cars, and Dusty Springfield - I only want to be with you
━━━━━━ ◦ ✧ ◦ ━━━━━━
The party had dwindled down and the clock was inching towards 3 a.m. Thor and Jane had retired to their room, Bruce had left the party as soon as he thought it appropriate, Natasha and Sam had vanished after half the night and was nowhere to be found, Tony had made a beeline for his workshop as soon as he thought that nobody was watching, and left was Clint half asleep on the couch and Darcy lying on the floor in front of the stereo, bobbing her feet along to the music, and Steve, drunk on Asgardian mead and holding his head to keep it from spinning.
“Oh, I love this song” Darcy groaned happily.
Steve’s ears perked up, trying to focus on the music instead of the spinning going on in his head. He didn’t recognize the song, granted he had missed ca 70 years of music history so he wasn't all that surprised.
His head throbbed in time with the mulling pain in his chest, only amplified by the asgardian alcohol burning holes in his veins. It was the same pain he had felt every second of every minute of every day since he was rescued from the ice.
Pain for every person he had lost.
{ I don't quite know
How to say
How I feel }
Steve didn’t know when the first sob came,
{ Those three words
Are said too much
They're not enough }
or the second,
{ If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Forget what we're told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden that's bursting into life }
he was only dimly aware of the third because it managed to rock his entire body. He opened a bleary eye to search for potential onlookers but Clint was snoring peacefully on the other couch and Darcy seemed to be too close to the speakers to hear him.
People like to say that memories come bubbling to the surface, but that’s not what it felt like to Steve. Instead they shot from his subconscious like a malicious fireball, wrecking everything on its way to the forefront of Steve’s consciousness. Memories, images of places and feelings long gone surged into his thoughts, blinding him to anything else. Image after image.
His hands being small and spindly, body hurting all over and his lungs constricting with every breath; him looking up to Bucky who smiled back down at him; Bucky and a night sky filled with stars, and grass tickling his neck; Bucky with silvery aquamarine eyes just for him; Bucky focusing on Steve; Bucky seeing Steve; Bucky seeing Steve when nobody else would.
{ All that I am
All that I ever was
Is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see }
And oh, oh but that hurt; the pain shooting straight through Steve’s heart so hard he had to clutch a pillow to his chest, almost bending over double on the couch. All he could see was those eyes, those kind bright eyes that he would never see again. He felt plagued by the image of the Winter soldier glaring at him on the bridge; the monster wearing his best friend’s face. It was Bucky, except for the hair and the clothes everything about his appearance was Bucky— except for the eyes. Hydra had robbed him of his aquamarine kindness and left him with nothing but silver.
{ I don't know where
Confused about how as well
Just know that these things will never change for us at all
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world? }
And the floodgates opened and Steve lost nearly all damned control as he shook with the pain strangling him though his spine. He could feel it through his drunken haze: physical sensations mimicking the agony that churned inside him.
The vision of Bucky in his military uniform appeared before his mind’s eye: ‘Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out for England first thing tomorrow’, and Steve thought he would break apart. His eyes. His beautiful eyes that saw what nobody else saw.. everything he never told him, never got a chance to— was too scared to—
Darcy sighed dreamily as the song ended and turned to put it on repeat, and Steve gritted his teeth and nearly screamed into the couch cushion.
~~~
It was Jarvis who alerted him to the worrying state of their Captain.
“Sir, I feel obligated to report increasing signs of distress in Captain Rogers and seeing as he is intoxicated and in the common area—”
“What’s going on, J?” Tony put his visor up and his blowtorch down, drawing up a hologram feed from the common room, scanning the image with a sinking feeling in his stomach.
“The alien liquid mr. Odinsson brought seem to combat the Captain’s enhanced metabolism, keeping him intoxicated, but his alcohol levels appear to be under the level of concern. However his blood pressure as well as his pulse are currently spiking and he is showing alarming symptoms of distress and—”
Tony removed the rest of his tools and darted out of the workshop.
“Alright, dear. I’m on it.”
When he arrived to the common area, Steve seemed to have calmed down enough that his pulse wasn’t running a mile a minute, but his face, oh, but his face. The sight physically hurt. Blue blue eyes staring empty and vacant in front of him and tendrils of tears running down slightly pink cheeks, only interrupted by the occasional sob.
No no, Tony thought, no this won’t do.
He moved to usher Darcy off the floor and away from the stereo. She grunted in a way that Tony had quickly learnt in Darcinian meant basically ”Fine, but fuck you.”
He rummaged through the music, until he found what he was looking for, silently thanking the few beers still in his system because there was no way he'd be comfortable enough doing this sober. Cap was too proud to talk, had always been. So Dusty it was.
“Tony, what-”
The first notes of Dusty Springfield’s ‘I only want to be with you’ started to pour from the speakers to interrupt him. Tony walked up to stand in front of him, hand outstretched.
“Dance with me.”
“Tony, no— come on.”
“I’m serious, I mean the song is a bit after your time but it’s still pretty damn old.. I mean relatively.. should be right up your alley,” Tony grinned at him “and you need a dance, that much is obvious.”
Steve sighed, let the corner of his mouth quirk up in a way that was entirely unconvincing and wiped at his eyes.
“Tony, I don’t think—”
“Good, don’t think, it ruins the fun.”
Steve looked up at that and almost allowed himself a small chuckle at the twinkling in Tony’s eyes.
“Fine.”
“Good.”
He pulled Steve up by his arm, which honestly he would not have been able to do if Steve didn’t want him to, and led him away from the couch signaling to Darcy to push away the chairs and table; which she did, albeit a bit clumsily. She had managed to down an entire whiskey bottle by herself and Tony was actually kind of proud over the fact that she managed to remain upright for enough time to move the furniture.
“I still can’t dance.”
“It’s funner that way”, Tony winked and that finally wrought a smile and a small huff of laugh from Steve.
“Knew I could force a smile out of ya, nobody stands a chance against my charms.
“Your charms, huh?”
“Yes, yes exactly. Please, try to keep up.”
{ I don't know what it is that makes me love you so
I only know I never want to let you go
'Cause you started something, can't you see
That ever since we met you've had a hold on me
I happens to be true, I only want to be with you }
Tony tried an easy and slow mash between a modern jive and something of a waltz, sticking to basic moves and made sure to keep it as stupid and goofy as possible; and Steve, ever the elegant super-human, was infuriatingly quick to catch on, following Tony’s lead in an upsettingly graceful manner. He still had a few tears on his face and the embarrassed smiles altered with choked of sobs and tiny hiccups.
{ It doesn't matter where you go or what you do
I want to spend each moment of the day with you
Look what has happened with just one kiss
I never knew that I could be in love like this
It's crazy but it's true, I only want to be with you }
Tony let go of Steve with his left, catching him by surprise to twirl him and then managed a ridiculous little shimmy with his hips. Now that had Steve laughing; a real unrestrained laugh accompanied by a wet but genuine smile and if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing Tony had ever seen..
“There he is”, he grinned “come on, Cap. Let’s show em how it’s done.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Fun. The word you’re looking for is fun.” and yes! Steve huffed another laugh. Tony did an internal victory dance. This was turning out to be a very good day after all, and Tony busied his mind with locking away mental image after image of Steve smiling, Steve laughing, Steve looking at him with something soft in his eyes.
“Come on, Rogers! Shake it!”, Darcy exclaimed, then followed with a whoop and a drunken cackle.
The tips of Steve’s ears tinted slightly pink and his cheeks followed approximately 1.5 seconds later.
Adorable.
Tony dove forward to twirl him again.
“You heard the lady!”
Steve’s laugh was quickly turning addictive and Tony felt obligated to keep the Captain laughing because yes, more of that, always more of that. He grabbed his hands and worked their arms back and forth in beat with the trumpets going baa-baba-ba and Steve was just completely, overwhelmingly adorable. He was so different from how he usually was: the tense, disciplined alwayslookingoutforeverybodyelse Captain America. Now he seemed more like the boy Tony had seen photographs of, the boy Steve used to be before they jacked him up on Super soldier juice. He looked slightly embarrassed but happy and loose, almost relaxed; and the tears had started to dry. Victory.
{ Now, listen, honey, I just want to be beside you everywhere
As long as we're together, honey, I don't care
'Cause you started something, can't you see
That ever since we met you've had a hold on me
No matter what you do, I only want to be with you }
“You stopped and smiled at me and asked if I cared to da-a-ance, I fell into your open aaarms,” Tony sang with the words and turned to jokingly fall against Steve’s arms looking up at him, “and I didn't stand a chance!”
Okay, so maybe he was a bit more drunk than he had previously thought.
“Ridiculous”, Steves chuckled, exasperated but fond.
“FUN”, Tony enunciated every sound of the word like he was talking to a toddler “fun is the word you’re looking for.”
The last notes of the song rang out and another oldie started playing. Steve dragged Tony up on his feet and turned him to wrap his arms around him, and then Tony was enveloped by massive and warm, warm, warm. If he allowed himself to melt a bit against Steve nobody had to know.
“Thank you.”
“Aw, Cap I should be the one thanking you. I’m the one who asked for the dance, remember?” Tony teased.
Steve snorted.
“Shut up.”
“Language!” and Tony was proud that he had managed to sound genuinely offended. Again Steve chuckled and it was like molasses over Tony’s brain, music to his ears! Whatever, he loved it.
“Ugh, I love your laugh”, and crap- he had said that out loud, hadn’t he?
Steve tensed for a moment, then moved his head away to peer down at him, brows furrowed; his baby blues seemingly liquid in the low light. When Tony just grinned sheepishly and shrugged Steve’s features relaxed and he gripped Tony’s chin with his thumb and index finger, nuzzling his cheek and yeah this was quickly racing up to the top on Tony’s Best Things Ever- list, right above coffee and Black Sabbath's greatest hits.
“Then I guess I’ll just have to do more of it.” he murmured against Tony’s skin. And then finally, blissfully, he tightened the grip on Tony’s chin and brought his lips up to meet his own.
Tony made a choked off trilling noise in the back of his throat because yes.
Steve hummed in response, angling his head just so and Tony melted some more.
“Finally!”
Oh, good, so Darcy was still awake then.
Steve chuckled against Tony’s lips and that just left Tony in an awful position because smiling was good, smiling Steve was on his top three favourite things after all but smiling also stood in the way for maximum lips on lips contact and that would just not do.
But then Steve licked over his bottom lip and yeah there went Tony’s last functioning brain cell. Good riddance, see you never.
Behind them Darcy pointedly cleared her throat.
“You know, even though this is adorable beyond words and all that, maybe you should, you know, not do that.. here.” she raised her right eyebrow meaningfully.
Steve surprised them both by tipping his head back and barking out a laugh, tearing away from Tony a bit to wipe at his eyes. Huh, okay then. But Steve was smiling, and laughing and lookingyt soft and happy and Tony’s heart swelled at the sight.
Yeah, Steve-smiles was quickly becoming his favourite thing.
#marvel#stony#iron man#tony stark#steve rogers#captain america#darcy lewis#ironshield#flangst#valentines#fluff#hurt/comfort#fanfiction#steve x tony#tony x steve#soft husbands
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betaadmin replied to your post: my brain over here thinkin abt jester getting a...
hey fidge WHY you gotta do this to me
because im sad abt this CONSTANTLY and i love it
he does borrow it eventually. either bc he asks jester, or she assumes he’d want to read it as well. but having it on his person feels like carrying a massive stone, and he’s almost terrified to open the cover and begin reading it.
beau gives him strange looks when he catches him not 40 pages in by the second day. he doesn’t notice - trying to keep his eyes on the words while frumkin digs his claws into caleb’s shoulders and purrs loudly. it helps keep away the foggy memories trying to creep through and pull him away from what’s in front of him. it works most times, but it only gets harder as he goes on.
he gets lost once - reaching a scene where the children, now teenagers, dance together in an empty house where no one can hear them. holding each other and laughing and feeling so, so happy and safe for reasons that they haven’t quite got an understanding of yet.
it had been late - two and a half hours past midnight - and they had been left in the cottage alone. master ikithon had been called on business in Rexxentrum, and had decided that the three of them would be left alone to study on their own. he would test them upon his return to ensure they had been working.
but until then, they were alone.
they had pushed the heavy furniture out of the center of the small bedroom - leaving a small clearing with just enough space for the three of them to practice dancing, trading off with each other in smooth, fluid movements. he can feel their hands still. astrid’s body in front of him, radiating warmth as she places a hand at his hip and entwines their fingers a bit too tightly. he welcomes the pressure - finds it calming - and has to resist the urge to pull her close just to prove they’re really here. eodwulf takes her place once they trade off, towering over bren by a good couple of inches as he places a hand on bren’s shoulder. his fingers always feel too cold, and bren carefully rubs his thumb over his knuckles hoping they warm.
they’re so different from each other and yet so utterly amazing in their own right. he thinks he loves them, but he can never bring himself to say it. but this is good as it is. together, safe, alone. laughing at each poorly placed step and half-whispered joke they say in the dark of this bedroom. his heart feels so full he thinks it might burst, but instead he laughs and leans into one of them, tears coming unbidden as the emotions become overwhelming-
a heavy hand on his shoulder pulls him back. his head feels stuffed with cotton, tight and unfocused. he blinks rapidly for a moment, but the tears in his eyes don’t clear, even as they roll down his face. the hand squeezes, and he looks over to see the blurry shape of beau sitting next to him.
“Hey, put that away for a minute, ok?” she says, vaguely motioning towards the book in his lap. caleb takes a shaking breath and complies. he will find his place later, if needed, though he didn’t look at the page number that he had been on. “You ok, man?”
He opens his mouth to speak, closes it and clears his throat when he notes how tight it feels. Looks to the stained wood of the table in front of him. “Ja. I am.. fine.”
She’s quiet for a beat, and he doesn’t dare look up - instead focused on reaching up to try and subtly wipe the tears from his eyes.
he watches as she reaches out and places a hand on the book in front of him.
“Maybe you should give this back to Jester. It looks like it’s not really doing you any good.”
“I.. I would like to finish it at the very least.”
he hears her sigh in annoyance. “You can finish it later. Like when you aren’t in the kind of mood where you’re going to keep doing that.. thing,” he sees movement out of the corner of his eye as beauregard waves a hand around her own head, “but I just saw you spacing out and crying in the middle of the tavern. You haven’t been reading this.”
“I have.” he mutters, a small bit of annoyance creeping into his own voice. “I am just... remembering.”
“Yea, but are they good memories?”
“Yes.” and that stops her. he looks back up, eyes meeting hers, and he can see the creeping hint of skepticism in the way her eyebrows are cocked. he can feel a horrible part of him, desperate for things he doesn’t deserve, begging. “Beauregard, these are some of the best memories that I have," his voice breaks terribly, and beau startles. his vision is blurring again, but he feels too stubborn in this moment to break eye contact to wipe them again. “I am asking you to let me have this. I will return the book when I am done, but just let me have this for a few more days.”
“fuckin.... fine.” she reaches up to scrub at her face and groan. the second her hand is gone from the book, he grips it close to his chest before he has a moment to even think about the action. a single finger reaches out to poke him harshly in the shoulder. “but listen - if you start actin fuckin weird and shit, or i have any reason to think that this is fucking you up worse than normal, i’m taking it. understand?”
“Ja - got it.”
“Cool. You have 3 more days.”
“Danke.”
she sits back in her seat, her gaze lingering on him for just a second before she brings up her ale to take a drink. caleb rests the book in his lap - content to be done reading for the time being. his head still feels foggy, his eyes wet and tired. he’s not sure if the book is doing anything good for him at all, honestly, but he can’t bring himself to leave it just yet. at the very least, beau allows a moment of silence between them, though he can see her fidgeting. the conversation isn’t finished yet, and watching her attempt to give him a second to recollect himself is almost as heart warming as it is utterly annoying.
“Do you have a question, Beauregard?”
she shoots him a half glare, but still attempts to act nonchalant.
“I mean.. I guess?” she mutters, crossing her arms, “I just.. like, you said you fell in love, right?”
he hums.
“But Jester and Nott have only ever mentioned Astrid.”
there’s a deep twinge of guilt in his chest. something that’s become more and more prominent the more he lets the nein think what they will about his old friends. he winces.
“Ah. Ja.”
“but it was both of them?”
he breathes. in. out. “Ja. I just.. I didn’t want them to ask more questions than they already had. Let them think what they will.”
beau snorts. “That’s a shitty idea that will definitely backfire.”
“I am aware.” he mutters back, his lips twitching into a small, sad smile. “I am, ah, worried I suppose. I think he would be very upset with me if he knew.”
that earns him a Look. “Why? I mean, I think if we meet up with your exes,” he nearly chokes at the word, “I don’t think whether or not you talked abt both of them to your friends is going to be anyone’s biggest issue.”
"Mm. You are definitely right about that.”
he nearly winces at how dejected his voice sounds as he says it, but instead he drops his gaze back to the book in his lap and places his hand on it, stroking the cover gently. they will have many problems if they were to ever see astrid and eodwulf again. his gossip about the two of them will hardly be at the top of their list, he’s sure.
beau glances at him, brows furrowed, and he can see the gears turning in her head. slowly, awkwardly, she places a hand on his shoulder again.
“If we, like, see them.. and they aren’t - you know - absolutely fucking crazy and evil and shit-”
“they will be, but go on.”
“yea but like, on the super off chance that they aren’t,” she pauses, looking him in the eye. her hand squeezes in what he assumes is her attempt at comforting him, “maybe we can do something. ok? i’m not promising shit, but.. you never know or whatever.”
he blinks, unsure of what to say or think. he doesn’t like the small spark of Something in his chest at the words - at the implication - and he tries desperately to stomp it down before it can burn too quickly.
“i.. do not think that will be an option.” he says carefully, “it has been a, ah, very long time. the empire is very good at ensuring it’s people do what it wishes - especially, ah, Him.” he breathes again shakily, ignoring the sudden race of his heart at the thought of that man. “but, ah.. thank you for the, the thought, beauregard.”
“hey man, it’s an option, alright? we’ve tried dumber shit and gotten out alive.” we really haven’t, he thinks, but stays silent. beau stands and grabs her drink, turning to walk away before pausing. instead, she turns back around and stares at him, then leans down to awkwardly wrap her arms around his shoulders. caleb freezes, suddenly unsure of what he’s supposed to do other than offering an awkward pat on the arm.
when she pulls away, she’s still got a hand on him. “i mean it though. if that book fucks you up, i’m taking it.”
he faulters, “J-ja, ok.”
“and you give it back in 3 days.”
“i remember, beauregard.”
“and if we see those two, we’re going to get them away from him.”
he doesn’t respond.
“okay?”
silence.
“Widogast.”
“beauregard,” he glares at her, his voice deeply tinged with warning as she glares back. he tries to ignore the anxiety crawling through his chest. “these are very dangerous people. if we meet them, it would be easier to kill them than it would be to change their minds.”
“if we have to kill them, we will,” she says, and his stomach twists at the thought. he’s considered the outcome hundreds of times over the years, but hearing someone speak it into existence makes it feel closer than ever. he reaches up to frumkin and scratches at his cheek, warranting a new round of loud purring that draw’s beau’s attention. “but if there’s something we can get a hold of, i’m will to try and pull them out. got it?”
there’s a pause before caleb nods, nearly imperceptible at how small it is.
"good.” she slaps his shoulder just a bit too hard, “good talk. enjoy your book.”
she turns and walks to the bar, leaving caleb at the table alone.
he glances down, eyes roaming over the cover of the book, using a single finger to softly trace the outline of three small figures huddled together in front of a lone house in the middle of a field. he breathes deeply, focusing on that and the sensation of frumkin’s purrs. he’s done reading for the night, he thinks. he can feel the familiar mental exhaustion creeping forward, already threatening to turn the soft lull of the dinner-crowd into a dull cacophony of grating voices and sharp, unexpected noises that will make his skin crawl.
collecting his items and draining the last of his ale, he stands and makes his way upstairs to the quiet of his room. putting the book away for now is simple, and there’s still a warmth in his chest that lingers from the soft memories of dancing alone in an empty home. he hopes - knows - that dreams will come, but at the very least he knows they will not be nightmares. and for that, he’s grateful.
#betaadmin#Mimic Speaks#The Mighty Nine AU#hm! long and rambly and not read over! exactly the kind of bullshit that i'm known for!
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I say chapter 2 for the Miraxus Vampire AU!! Your imaginations are just the best ^^
Part I
It was a rough adjustment to say the least, going from the freedom of a young man in his twenties with no attachment other than his homegrown business, to the chains of being the only normal person in a household full of abnormality.
Which was putting it lightly.
He was the only one who wasn’t a vampire, like the Strauss siblings, a slave to said vampires, like poor Evergreen and Freed, or a complete and utter moron who Laxus was pretty sure had no hangups over all had gone on, like stupid Bickslow. No, Bickslow was riding high as the house ‘jester’ and kitten father and it was all just so aggravating that sometimes Laxus thought about it.
He could do it.
Kill them.
Really, the only one he wanted to take out with the main one. Mirajane. The Mistress. She was the one that caused all of this. He wondered too if maybe vampires were, like, ants or bees. If he killed their queen, would all the others die? Is that how it worked? Sure, it would be horrible to recognize his own dealings in the death of his two friends, Freed and Ever, but at the same time…
Those…things weren’t Evergreen and Freed any longer. He had to keep reminding himself of this fact. It was the truth. Their bodies were just vessels and what happened to them from this point out had no bearing on the souls that had long since departed.
It would be retribution, if anything. Justice. An end to any suffering they might still be facing, trapped within themselves. How could he just sit there and do nothing? Huh? When he was the only one with the opportunity to bring it all to an end?
And yet, as dawn rose each morning, dragging the sun willingly along the sky, he found himself not focusing on how to distract Freed long enough to sneak down into the cellar, where he’d find them all, slumbering the day away, where he could easily drive stakes through each of their hearts.
It would be a blessing, even, he was pretty sure, to the three of them. Was it not a curse? Their immortality? That’s what she told him, once, when this all first began. That he was lucky to bear the brunt of mortality.
Then why not just end things?
He figured this had to do with the whole damnation aspect. If that was an aspect. Bickslow insisted it was. But even still, Laxus would find hellfire far more preferable to feasting on the blood of the innocent. Still, he couldn’t imagine that Bickslow was enjoying himself as much as he let on either. They were all just surviving with what they’d been giving. Selfishly, sure, fine, but each day (or night) that they continued to draw breath was a win, no matter how dirty the tactics.
Where did that leave him, anyways? Laxus saw himself as an unwilling participant in all of this, but he never left. Or when he did, it was merely to do what had to be done. Gather supplies, assure the locals. That sort of things. He always came back. He wasn’t charmed or imprinted on or any of that weird stuff a vampire might do to have a hold over someone. No. He was just…
Going along with all of it.
Fear at first, maybe, had a play in everything, but now he felt little of it. Or at least it wasn’t overpowering his senses. Mirajane had been right. Repulsion fled with repetition and he found himself falling into the daily schedule of the Strauss mansion with little hesitance. In a certain kind of way, it wasn’t so different from his daily life before that. Manual labor, renovating a decaying mansion in the hot summer.
What a long one of those it would be.
.
“Oi, boss, I think one of my little kittens here is sick. Peppe. Look at ‘im. Does this look like a normal kitten to you?”
“Bickslow,” the man growled as he stood out in the yard, cutting at the shrubbery, “I’m busy.”
“Just look at ‘im, boss. He looks pale.”
“It’s a white fucking cat, Bickslow.”
“Kitten.”
“Bick-”
“Go on then, you bastard,” the acrobat was growling suddenly and when Laxus glanced over his shoulder, he saw the man nursing a bleeding thumb. The kitten apparently didn’t like being swung around for the blond to see and had either bit or scratched the other man. Tossing him to the ground, Bickslow glared after the feline before looking to Laxus once more. “Kids are so ungrateful. Say, that’s actually what I was wondering about.”
“I don’t give a shit about your cats, man.”
“Kittens.” Still, Bickslow was quick to follow as Laxus, finished with the bush before him, was stalking off across the yard to the other. “To bad for your woman, you know. Is she still a woman? Your vampire then, eh? Can’t see ya all hot and bothered like this. Shirtless. Working hard under the sweltering sun.”
“If you’re coming on to me, I’m not interested.”
“Nah, not me. No way. I’m a single father now, man. That’s a lot of work.”
“I thought you and Lisanna were taking care of the kittens together?”
“The woman only comes around at night! All day, I toil over my precious babies and she just-”
“You know, man, I’m really fucking busy right now, so-”
“I have a question,” Bickslow insisted as they came to a stop before another overgrown shrub. “Okay, look, listen to this. I’ve been wondering ‘cause it keeps me up at night, yeah? Well, among other things-”
“Bickslow-”
“Can vampires reproduce?”
“What? Why are you ask-”
“And if they can, does it gotta be with something else undead? Or can you and the, uh, Mrs. Boss, uh… I’s talkin’ to Freed about it and we were very concerned. Well, I was concerned. He just sorta sat there and went on and on about all his chores he had to do, but… How can something undead give life to something not? And man, it would suck for you, ya know? Is it your kid or one of the thousand of other guys, she, uh, gets favors from, right? I mean-”
“Would you shut up?” And he dropped the clippers then, Laxus did, as he turned on the man with blazing eyes and Bickslow threw up his hands in defense, nearly falling back over his own feet as he tried to scramble away. “I’m fucking working you absolute-”
“So I’m a prisoner here and I ain’t even got free speech?” Bickslow was running across the yard then, away from him. “Well, prisoner in name only. But I got rights, boss! You’ll see! I’ll bring this up to the kid tonight. You just wait!”
But Laxus didn’t think of the man again that night. Or anything, really, as he found yard work to not even be a good distraction from his roaring thoughts.
.
They seemed to have some sort of internal clocks that told them when to rise from their shadowy depths, the Strauss siblings did. As sundown changed just slightly with each passing day, he wondered how exactly their bodies knew so well. Perhaps they were just that in tune with the earth?
Regardless, he typically found himself waiting for the Mistress on the couch in her bedroom, where Freed would follow her after the pair made sure her brother was alright and her sister was content, to pour her wine and listen to any daily chores she had until the next sundown.
Laxus would only sit there patiently, usually, for this to occur as he looked everywhere other than his former friend. To see the man now, mindless and void, really gave the blond an ache deep in his heart.
One night after Freed had pour her a glass of wine and bowed his way out of the room, Mirajane only went to look longingly out the window as Laxus couldn’t do anything other than stare at her deeply.
“I’m not in the mood tonight, my love,” she offered simply, mistaking the gaze for hunger. “For anything.”
“I just have a, uh, question.” Laxus had never stuttered, really, before he came to the mansion, but he found his words falling over themselves frequently around the woman. Coughing slightly into his hand, he added, “That’s all.”
“Ask until you are content.” She didn’t even glance over at him as he rose to his feet. Instead, eyes falling down into her glass, she whispered, “I will answer to the best of my ability.”
Nodding, he took a step closer before, with hesitation, finding his feet firmly planted where they were currently. “I was just curious… How is it that…”
“I said you can ask, Laxus.” She still wouldn’t look at him. She seemed distracted, honestly. Worried. “Not stammer at me.”
“Right. I just… You can’t get, like, pregnant or some shit like that, can you?”
“What?” That did get her gaze, but the look was one of displeasure. Rolling her eyes so deeply he thought perhaps she’d gone into a trance, the woman finally retorted, “What an idiotic question. Of course not. Who would think such a thing?”
Bickslow.
Still, the man merely said, “I was just making sure, is all. Contraception is kind of a normal thing now. I figure it wasn’t back when you were…when…well-”
“You are beginning to bore me, Laxus.” Her gaze was out the window again. “Please try and avoid such an occurrence.”
Frozen for a moment, he shook his head some as he felt his feet get life again. Advancing on the woman, he stared out the window as well. In the pale moonlight, he saw just as she did, Bickslow doing twirls and jumps for a not visible Lisanna.
“They both enjoy one another,” she offered softly, “at least. It’s been a long time since Lisanna has had someone to play with. He’s a bit…off, but I am pleased with the jester’s dedication.”
“Yeah,” Laxus whispered as she turned then, from the window and him, walking across the room to refill her glass, “dedication.”
.
“You’re always the one that gets to go away somewhere fun,” Lisanna griped to her sister early one evening as the Mistress had them all gather in the living area. Even Evergreen and the brother, Elfman, were there. One a brute of a man, the still quite muscular man merely sat where he’d been helped, on the couch, not able to raise his eyes as his sister’s bickered. “You don’t trust us to do anything anymore. I wasn’t the one that got hurt. Elf was-”
“Silence.” She never raised her voice, Mirajane did, but she had a way of getting the attention of others regardless. As Freed stood at her side and the others sat around on the furniture, Mirajane only addressed them all with a dark gaze. “I have important business to attend to. I except there to be no problems, here at home, while I am gone. You stay out of the sight of the villagers, Lisanna, Elfman, and you both keep up appearances, Freed, Laxus. When I return-”
“Laxus?” Lisanna frowned over at him and even stuck her tongue out. “How come he’s staying? Take him with you. I hate when he just looms around the house all day.”
“You,” the man complained with a glare right back (though he was apprehensive over the brother and downright terrified of Mirajane, Lisanna felt more like the petulant children he dealt with down at the group home), “sleep all day. I sleep at night. Why is that a problem?’
“It’s annoying.” She could only shrug. “Doesn’t feel natural.”
“You know-”
“You all behave like children.” With a roll of her eyes, Mirajane looked to Freed. “I expect you to keep things in order while I am away. I will return before the end of the week. Should anything occur, you know how to get in contact with me, yes?”
“I,” Lisanna complained again, “know what to do if anything goes wrong, Mira. Me. Not them. I’m the whole reason any of them are here!”
“Will you be gone that long?” Elfman finally spoke, voice soft as he raised his eyes some. “Big sis?”
It was with a soft sigh that she went to push her brother’s white locks away from his eyes, staring down at him as Evergreen sat beside, looking void and disinterested.
“Never,” Mirajane assured her younger brother.
.
Laxus didn’t understand why he got left behind, but decided to make the most of it. Working all day, sleeping all night. Like he used to. Rather than sleeping in shifts between doing the housework, going to town, and dealing with the Strauss siblings in the evening.
He had his own room, separate from Mirajane’s, which he was free to use when she wasn’t up to bother with him. Or when she wished to be alone, as she did, some nights. The bed wasn’t as comfortable and the room was much smaller, barren, but it suited him and his attitude towards his situation.
One night, sleep was a bit difficult because he could hear Elfman wailing, loudly, in his downstairs quarters, over something or other, and Bickslow was jumping all about the house with his cats. And Freed seemed to have been instructed to wander about, between Mira’s siblings, checking up on them. Laxus could hear his slow, methodical steps as he went up and down the stairs periodically, doing as he’d been told.
Sleep was just hard to come by.
Laxus laid with his headphones in, listening to music, and kind of just wished Mirajane would return soon. She seemed to bring balance to the house. Without the Mistress around, everything felt disconnected. No one was really the head of the house and they were all just miserable people, trapped in a mansion together, bringing the misery onto one another.
Just what, the golden haired man found himself fearing frequently, could Mirajane be dealing with anyways? She seemed rather worried over something. Did it have to do with him? And Bickslow? Or maybe Elfman’s…accident? Something like that?
Who was she even going to speak with?
And how many others were there? Like them? Int he world? Were the Strauss siblings oddities or a shadowy norm?
Maybe there was a council, he worried then, of vampires. A hierarchy? Just where did the woman fall on that? She seemed rather high and mighty, towards her siblings, who fell in line under her, but did that have to do with birth order? Or some sort of chain of command?
Why did it bother him so much? The idea that the woman, Mirajane, his…Mistress wasn’t at the top? Because it did. The idea that there were more powerful, more commanding vampires out there than her really bothered him. And not just because the implication of darkness and evil that had towards the world at large.
.
It didn’t make much sense to the man at first. What was happening. He’d drifted off some uncomfortably and was a bit dazed as he heard the soft footsteps that certainly weren’t the pensive, watchful Freed or the excitable Bickslow. No. They were different.
“Lisanna?” he whispered softly as she slipped into his room. Frowning as he rubbed at his eyes, he asked, “Is everything alright? Is someone here? I’ll go take care of-”
“No one’s here.” She shut the door softly behind her, coming forwards. “It’s my home, is it not? Can I not choose where to be inside of it?”
“What?” She was being too confusing for him to be so groggy. “Did you need something or not?”
Btu she was staring at him as the moonlight wafted through his room and it was so bizarre because part of him knew exactly why she’d come, but another part of him refused to acknowledge it.
“Lisanna? Hey, kid, I think I lost one of the kittens again and I’m really worried about him. Have I mentioned to you that he don’t look too good? Lisanna?”
She made a face, over her shoulder, before looking at Laxus again and oh shit, he was so fucked.
But not that night, as she slipped back out of the room to go deal with her personal jester. Laxus just sat up in bed for a full minute, shocked, dazed, and filled with dread.
What was he supposed to do now?
.
The height of summer was upon them and it was a scorcher out. Laxus decided, without Mirajane there to dictate just what he did with his days, that he would go into town. Not the dumb village though. A real town. To get away from the mansion for a bit.
Maybe…maybe even write his grandfather?
But he couldn’t. He thought about it, honest, he did, and even located the location to do so, but he just…
What could he say? After so long? The last his grandfather had heard from him was when he first started renting out that little shopfront, hopeful for the future. He’d always meant to write the man again. To go back again, honestly. With extra cash. To see who was still around and who’d gotten homes. Maybe even offer a job to some of them. Maybe. The kids. The ones that were grown by that point.
It just never came together.
Laxus had found a new family there, for a bit, in his little team. Evergreen and Bickslow could get on his nerves like no other, but they reminded him a lot of the kids in that way. And Freed, well, he could be a bit of a hassle as well, what with his near constant insistence of doing the right thing and being an upstanding citizen and all that. He was a lot like his grandfather.
But now that family was shattered and factored and it would never come all together again. It couldn’t. The Strauss siblings made certain of that.
There was a slight fear, as well, or at least a consideration he’d kind of pushed away before, but…
The Mistress had made it quite common knowledge between the two of them that all things come to an end. Though she implied he would age, she didn’t necessarily indicate that this would lead to a natural end in their relationship. The opposite, even. She told him that she would be the one to end him.
When the time came.
Now with Lisanna clearly wanting…from him, well, he had a bad feeling that things were going to go south much faster than Mirajane had anticipated.
Laxus caught a drink alone at a bar and plotted this all out in his head.
Lisanna hadn’t been too coy, sneaking into his room so late at night, and that meant that she wanted… But Laxus didn’t want…well… It was weird. Wtiht he Mistress. He felt such a strong, undeniable attraction for her. Was it the power? The fact that she could completely fuck his entire shit up with a snap of his fingers?
Or just her in general?
Then there was her younger sister. Lisanna. There was nothing wrong with her. At all. She was just…not Mirajane. Yes. And Mira had told him, even, that she had no interest in men. That she was keeping Bickslow more as a pet than anything else. And that seemed to hold up as true, over a month out. Bickslow was entertaining to her and nothing more.
He’d thought this meant that Mira was right. That Lisanna just wasn’t looking for the same thing that she was. But apparently not.
It didn’t matter how many beers Laxus downed. He couldn’t wash away the feeling that this was going to end poorly for him. Imagine it. Having a super hot girlfriend who goes away for the week and then bam! Her sister is throwing herself at you. You know if you go for it, your girlfriend will eventually find out about it, and ‘end’ you, like she threatened, but if you don’t…
Well…
Then you’ll get your blood sucked out in a violent manner by her equally as scary and powerful little sister.
Imagine it.
Laxus could.
It’s why he decided not to go home that night.
.
“Where were ya last night, boss?” Bickslow yawned to the man in the middle of the afternoon when Laxus arrived back at the place. He hesitated some, when he found the guy waiting for him on the front porch, but Bickslow had something else on his mind than true worry over his friend. “My kitty ain’t well! It’s-”
“Shut the fuck up, Bickslow. Moron.”
Freed seemed interested in Laxus absence, but made little mention in it other than informing him he should not be gone, at night, when the Mistress is about.
“Well, she ain’t, is she, Freed?” he grumbled some to the mostly vacant stare of the man he once considered his best friend.
Still, he took heed of this and decided to be around that night, just in case the woman showed back up.
He didn’t sleep in his room though. No. He slept in Mirajane’s, with the door locked, completely sealed off from the others. He was answering no knocks or inquiries. Just going to put his headphones in and zone out from the entire world. If this bothered Mira, should she arrive home that night, so be it.
It wasn’t like she’d kill him over it.
But she might if she found him in bed with her sister.
No. Things were just best if Laxus kept to himself and avoided Lisanna all together until Mira got back and then…then…
Well, he wasn’t sure then what. A few days removed, he wasn’t even certain he’d read Lisanna’s intentions correctly. It was late and he was tired and maybe…maybe his ego was just getting in the way of logical thought. Yes. Maybe. Possibly.
Lisanna was just messing around. Or did want something. Probably to find Bickslow. Yeah. She was looking for him and then there he was and that was that.
Right?
Right.
Obviously.
The sleep was still uncomfortable, but he found it much preferable to the worried one he’d had the previous two nights.
.
There was a certain sense you got, unilaterally, when you felt someone’s eyes upon you. It wasn’t even supernatural. Just a sense people got, a feeling. It had nothing to do with the powers that the Strauss siblings possessed.
And yet, it felt enhanced, somehow, when it came to them. His blood would run cold, if he was walking around the property at the exact post-dusk moment they came out of their cellar. Could literally feel the Mistress’ eyes across the sprawling property. Knew when they were on him. When they spied him, out late at night, in a storm, trying to track down damn kittens as she watched from her window.
He found Lisanna had the same power.
His snores turned to slight, chilly shakes as he peeked his eyes open and found her there, in the bedroom with him. He was confused for a moment and then only glared.
“How did you get in?” he griped, softly, whispered, really. He didn’t want Freed or Bickslow poking around. None of this could get back to Mirajane. Not an ounce of it.
Lisanna was standing there, at the foot of the bed, just staring. She didn’t do pensive or alluring as well as her sister, but still, as she nodded over to the forever open window, Laxus wanted to ram a palm into his face.
Of course.
Fucking vampires.
That explained his cold, anyways, as he shivered some in the night air that was being let in.
“You should never lock her door, anyways,” Lisanna told him before her eyes and gaze turned to something more…devious. “Unless, of course, you plan to put it to good use.”
She literally jumped into bed with him and Laxus didn’t know what to do. At all. He’d never had a problem such as this (as he fell more into the Strauss web, he found that was true of most things) and wasn’t sure what to do as the woman literally moved to grab his face and fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Lisanna.” He turned his head when she tried to kiss him. “Kid. What are you doing? Me and your sister-”
“Mira can’t have everything. And I’m not a kid.”
“Okay, okay, you’re not a kid, but fuck, we can’t-”
“Why not? Huh?” She was still holding onto his face and Laxus didn’t know how petrified his face looked in that moment, but all of him was feeling it. Lisanna had clearly lost it and either she was going to fucking have her way with him (super nope) or she was going to fucking kill him, he just knew it. All that month of figuring things out with Mirajane had just be some sort of cosmic gift. Here, you can dabble in your darkest of fantasies before they’re ripped from you. Just like your jugular will be, in your bitter final moments.
It felt fitting, to have that happen. You fuck a vampire, you get fucked up by a vampire.
Yeah, it was hard not to find justice in this outcome.
“It’s because of her isn’t it. My sister. You’re in love with my sister, aren’t you?”
“W-Well, I don’t use labels and-”
She growled some, Lisanna did, and her nails felt like claws as, in the moonlight, he was forced to stare into her eyes.
“Mirajane treats me like a fucking child and I’m not. I can do whatever I want.”
“Look, I fullheartedly support you in this endeavor and all, but I’m not just whatever, okay? Now would you please-”
“You’re going to do as I want, Laxus. I’m just as strong as her. What? You think just because I didn’t turn Bickslow, I can’t turn anyone? I can. I will. If I want you, I’ll have you.”
“Your sister-”
“Isn’t here.”
“Yeah, but… You’re not a kid, Lisanna, fine, yeah, you’re what? A billion years old?” He felt more panic for some reason, in this moment, than he had when he was chained to the chair, all those weeks back. “But to someone like me, you’re still-”
“I was twenty-two when I died. That is not a kid.”
“Yeah, but still. I’m, uh, into, you know, a different kind of-”
“I don’t care what you’re into.” And besides, she seemed to already be over the whole sleeping together thing. No. Now her eyes fell only to his neck. “I’m going to turn you into my slave. My servant. That’ll teach her. I’ll make her favorite little plaything mine and then she’ll know. She’ll- Ow!”
She nails left long, bleeding scratches on his face when Laxus finally found it within himself to shove her away. He could somehow reconcile all the other stuff, but turning him would mean effectively ending his life. Remove any chance at battling back. No.
He would never allow that to happen. Not even through the Mistress.
“Lisanna?” Someone was trying the door then. Freed. “I must gain entry to assure you safety. Please, if you can-”
“Fuck off, Freed,” Laxus growled as he’d merely tossed Lisanna to the side, on the bed. She was hardly hurt, honestly, more surprised, and as that faded from her gaze, he knew he was about to be in for a battle. “Don’t ya gotta follow my command too?”
Nope.
“I will locate a key.”
Shit.
Jumping out of bed as Lisanna tried to pounce on him again, Laxus bashful, at first, to be in only his boxers around what was kind of, fine, okay, his girlfriend’s little sister, but then he remembered why this was the case and, well, embarrassment went out that perpetually open window a long time ago.
“You’ll pay for that.” Lisanna’s voice was low and Laxus considered then that this could have been all over a long time ago if Lisanna would just charm him. She clearly had no interest in the will of him, the flesh, like Mira had proclaimed to, so it made little sense for her not to just go that route.
Unless…
“You’re not as strong as your sister.”
“What are you talking about? Of course I am. I-”
“You don’t possess the same powers as her, do you?” He was standing there, defensively, one hand held out in front of him, as if to stop her should she advance further. He wasn’t so certain she couldn’t immediately overpower him though (Bickslow insisted vampires had immense strength) and did this more out of a reflex. A false sense of control. As Lisanna glared from the bed, he almost felt like he had the upper hand. “Mira’s, like, what? You and your brother’s commander? Or something? Is that it? I’ve never even seen the two of you hunt on your own. Mira goes out and hunts for herself and then brings the two of you back small animals to feast on. I’ve seen it. I’ve helped Freed clear the animal traps. You and your brother aren’t powerful and don’t need real, human, blood. Or at least as much blood as she does. Is that it? Or does she keep you powerless that way?”
“You have no idea,” Lisanna told him darkly, “what you’re talking about.”
Well, honestly, she was right. But still, he held fast.
“You can’t do all she can and make you so jealous, doesn’t it?” He felt embolden by distance. “I get it, okay? But fucking me…or eating me…or anything dealing with me, won’t make her take you seriously. It’ll just get me kicked out of her. Or worse. So rebel some other way, alright? That doesn’t involve-”
The sound of a key in the ancient lock stopped them and Laxus glared over at it. Freed though, who merely blinked at them, was not even close to the worst thing behind it though.
“Boss, you fucking snake!”
Bickslow tackled him, full on, to the ground and you know what? Laxus had had a lot of rage recently, since the whole thing began, and yeah, as they began to fight, he let some of it go. He was more powerful than the other man and was beating him handily as Lisanna only sat by yelling at them and Freed seemed uncertain of what directive he should take next.
There was no end in sight, honestly, and Laxus might have killed Bickslow that night, he was so charged up from his nearly two month long ordeal at that part, and you know what? Yeah, Bickslow did share some blame in the whole thing. Yes, he was essentially doing as Laxus, just going along to get along, but fuck if it didn’t feel much more like the other guy was betraying him. Them. The whole human race, honestly.
Being around the darkness for so long had muddled Laxus’ sense of right from wrong and whatever happened that night, he;d more than convinced himself wasn’t his fault. Anything that happened from that point forth wasn’t his fault. He was a pawn filled with freewill, but uncertain how to wield it any longer, and this was just the inevitable outcome.
.
She entered through her window, transforming ins uch a blink of an eye that it would have appeared, were anyone watching something other than Laxus’ pounding his close friend into the ground, as if she came from thin air.
“What,” stopped all motion in the room as she merely stood there, blue eyes not so bright in that moment, “is going on?”
Bickslow was bruised and bloodied, but as Laxus found no words before the woman, the jester did.
“Laxus tried to sleep with Lisanna!”
“The fuck I did.” He got off Bickslow then, eyes dark as he glared over at the youngest Strauss. “She tried to…have her way with me! And then these two burst in-”
“They’re mortals!” Lisanna fell onto the defensive easily. “I can do whatever I wish with them. You don’t get dibs, Mira, on someone you won’t even turn. You-”
“Out.” She really just hit an ungodly octave, the woman did. Breathing harshly through her nose, her eyes fell to Laxus. “Except you.”
Freed had to assist Bickslow in even getting up and he was upset, the other man was, about…about…fuck if Laxus knew, but as Lisanna only sent him a dirty look for some reason, he decided he didn’t care. About any of them.
“Mira,” he tried, but she huffed as the others left, moving passed him and over to her dresser instead. Waiting there was a bottle of her specified brand and, as always, a clean wineglass.
“The only good thing out of the lot of you,” she complained as she poured it for herself, “is Freed.”
“She came onto me. I-”
“If you cannot control them, Laxus, then why should I leave you in charge?”
“Control- She’s a fucking vampire! You’re all fucking vampires! God, why are you all just acting like this is normal shenanigans? It ain’t! Your fucking sister just tried to…to…rape me, fuck, I guess, and then kill me when I didn’t comply. But you’re mad at me?”
She had her back to him and merely took a long sip from her glass before replying, “I’m not mad at anyone. I’m annoyed.”
“I’d really appreciate it, Mira, if you were at least a bit mad at your sister over all this.”
“Lisanna is acting out. Lashing out. It’s normal.”
“Stop calling all of this normal. That’s literally what I just said. Are you not listening to me?”
“I expect,” was all he got back in response, “you to handle yourself while I am gone. I do not want to arrive home to messes.”
“I didn’t try and fuck your sister, Mira. She wanted to fuck me. Are you not the least bit concerned about that? You know, I’ve had to adjust a lot, a whole fucking lot, for your family, and you’re yelling at me because no one said that I would have to be fucking both of you. Is that the game now? I have to fuck your sister too? If that’s what you want, Mira, then-”
“Stop yelling.”
“Is no one going to fucking acknowledge how hard I’m working? Constantly? To figure this shit out? Then your sister just throws herself at me, your brother has been sobbing for days, you’ve been gone, Freed is fucking weird, I don’t even get to see Ever, and Bickslow, fucking Bickslow, won’t shut up about his cats and then comes in here and attacks me for what? Huh? For possibly sleeping with someone who he’s not? What kind of sense does that make? And, by the way, your sister clawed the fuck out of my face. Thanks for asking.”
Mira turned to face him then, fully, lowering her drink down to her side. “My sister doesn’t…want you, Laxus. This will pass. She’s just jealous and threatened. She’s putting you in your place. You denied her. It’s done.”
“I don’t feel like it-”
“Hush.”
“She’s fucking-”
“Hush.”
His lips shut and his jaw felt locked as the woman only went to the bedroom door. Calling for Freed once it was opened, she requested a wet rag and stood there until it was presented to her. Laxus was confused, but she merely locked the door once more before coming over to him.
“Wash yourself. You are covered in both your and his blood,” she said, handing it off to the man who accepted it numbly. “And do not come into my chambers again, if I am not present. And do not look so betrayed. I will speak with Lisanna as well.”
The house met with an uneasy silence then and, as he ran the rag over himself, Laxus was aware of the distraction in the woman. It was written all over her face.
“Why did you go away?”
“A meeting.”
“With…what? Like a meeting between…vampires?” His fears (or was it more of a desire) were coming true. “You all get together and what? Discuss your favorite blood type?”
“I see you’re coming off your anger well.”
“Your sister tried to-”
“But she did not.” She brought the cup to her lips once more after adding, “Get in bed, my love.”
He didn’t want to, not really, but had already pressed his luck with one of the siblings that day. There was a serious doubt it would hold true twice.
When he wasn’t joined, Laxus only snorted, staring over at her. “You must have something major going on, in your little abomination world, huh?”
That did it.
Softly, into her cup, the woman giggled, airy and light.
“You,” she informed him simply, “have no idea.”
.
Needless to say, the next morning was awkward for Laxus and Bickslow. The acrobats face was all black and blue and his lip was split and oh, wow, there was something a lot more pressing going on.
After avoiding one another for most of the day (if they were honest with themselves, they both mostly slept til noon anyways), it was nearing the time for the siblings to come out of their cellar when it happened. Bickslow found Laxus sitting under a tree outside, listening to his music. In his arms, once more, he clutched one of his little kittens.
“He’s,” the seith told him and he looked more distraught then he did when he thought the boss was bonin’ Lisanna, “sick.”
Laxus could tell. Part of him felt bad for the little guy, who was breathing shallowly and was probably infected with who knew what, considering the conditions under which he was living. This presented another huge problem, of course, that wouldn’t be addressed in that very moment, but as Laxus tried to figure out how he’d delicately break it to Bickslow that, considering the rinky dink village had no vet, they’d probably have to break the kitten’s neck out of pity, he also realized the other kittens were no doubt infected with the illness as well.
“What’s wrong?”
Lisanna was the first into the house, finding the two men sitting down on the entryway floor, the little kitten laid on a towel there as Bickslow gently stroked at his tummy, hoping to soothe any of his pains.
“We’re, uh, wain’ for ya, is all, I guess,” he whispered softly. “Boss is gonna have to…well… You gotta say goodbye to ‘im, kid.”
Her eyes widened, Lisanna did, and she looked tearful as her brother only came to stare down as well. Laxus didn’t feel too comfortable around the other guy yet and thought about ditching out then, giving Lisanna and Bickslow a moment alone with their kitten (and psyching himself up to, you know, kill a defenseless creature; tall talk from a vampire fucker, but that was different), but just as he was rising to his feet, the muscular man was bending down.
“What- Elfman!” Lisanna hit him as he moved to grab the tiny cat in his massive hands. “What are you- No! Mira! Stop him!”
She was the last in the house, Freed faithfully by her side, and frowned at the scene before her. But it was too late for the cat as her brother was already bringing his fangs down into the beast. Bickslow couldn’t help it. He’d been the best sorta prisioner, sort of hire entertainment possible, but this was just too dark for him.
“What the fuck, bro?” he yelled, but Elfman only stood to his feet after retracting his fangs from the neck of the feline.
In all the commotion of the room, they heard a faint, “Meow.”
“I turned him.” Elfman sniffled some as he moved to set the kitten down. “He’ll, uh, never grow up. He’ll be a baby forever. But he won’t die now, Lisanna.”
She was sill down on her knees, wiping at her eyes, but did blink some.
“Why didn’t I think of that?” she whispered softly to herself as the kitten ran off, no doubt to find it’s siblings. “I’m so stupid.”
“You are not.” Mira was walking on then, Freed following. ‘But we are going to have a conversation. Now.”
“Hey, man, with the kid busy,” Bickslow began as Lisanna groaned some, but followed faithfully after her sister, “Elfman, buddy, pal, you think you could, uh, you know…turn all my other kittens?”
“They’d never grow up,” the other man pointed out. “And they would have to come down to the cellar each morning, with us. And they will only drink-”
“Hey, man, as a single father, I’d love to get rid of them for twelve hours a day.”
With the evening’s big hullabaloo already solved, Laxus felt a bit lost in the shuffle. Instead of seeking out Evergreen in Elfman’s absence (who he imagined would be much like Freed; a useless shell that merely made him sad), he went back outside, to the tree he’d sat beneath before, and put his headphones back in.
But he felt it, all the same, when the evening wind picked up, and Laxus didn’t have to stare up at the specific window to know she was there, watching him, glass in hand. Waiting. Thinking. Lurking.
As he leaned back into the tree, ignoring the urge to to her, up in her room, to be with her, he merely shut his eyes and tried to drift away. Pretend he was back home. In his tiny apartment he and Freed shared, just listening to music and thinking about this strange dream he’d been having lately.
A nightmare, really, it was.
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el mariachi | bts mafia!au | 1
word count: 3k
warnings: will be smut eventually, may become graphic in future scenes
pairing: jungkook x reader
a/n: this is my first upload on my new blog so i’m sensitive aubrey
code name JOY, a hitman that does the job dirty, is recruited by a notorious mob, who have both respect for her, and a member that she shot two days ago
next
El Mariachi’s.
It lived and breathed as an entrance and exit to a night life of sin. The drinks bad and the people worse, the club radiated a thick vibe of released tension. But what the transgressors of society that inhabited this den didn’t realise is that they weren’t the monsters of the underworld. The bossmen were.
“You know, I happen to be an expert in fucking up faces,” you fired out to the men cuffing your arms with their veiny hands, “it’s sort of my job.”
The men with masks paid no attention, leaving your arms locked up in their own.
The back entrance to El Mariachi’s resembled that of an old Spanish villa’s, which made you chuckle humourlessly at how out of place it looked in a back street of Seoul. Each man on your side stoped dead at the front of it.
“Walk.”
With one of your free arms, you pushed on the heavy door, opening up into a room with wine red walls and mahogany furniture. A large desk, the size of a single bed sat in the middle under dim lit lamps. The edges of the room were impossible to find in the shadows.
“Nice to see you live up to the cliché here,” you smirked at the figure in the dark of the desk.
A seperate figure appeared from the corner of the room, “We keep tradition here. We pride ourselves in it. Let’s quit the small talk though.”
Again, another figured moved out of the shadows, and cocked his gun.
You weren’t one for being frightened, let alone showing your fear, but the click of the barrel made you gulp. Abruptly, the two men who were on your arms before came back into view and cocked their revolvers in every synchronisation.
“Some tradition. You’re Koreans owning a Latin themed club, correct me if I’m wrong,” as you retorted in your hard-to-fault cockiness, you glanced around the room undetectably, 5 men counted up. But where were the other two?
“Joy, you made an attempt at killing one of our men, but failed, and you’re happy about this?” The man lent onto his clasped hands on the desk, “Because I don’t know a great deal of hitmen who let the job go- unfinished.”
“What can I say, I’m clearly not very good at my job, nor am I a threat to El Mariachi’s members. So how about we forget my blunder and start over, with me walking out that door-“ you turned towards the door you once entered through but we’re stopped by the two masked men again.
“You’re not serious right? You dishonoured us, and I’m sure we can make some form of arrangement that doesn’t end with your tongue leaving your skull, si?”
You rolled your eyes at his attempt at fear provoking.
“You’re missing a couple men right? Is one on bed rest after what I did to him?”
It was his turn to gulp now, “He’s doing fine. I’m a good enough man to know how to treat the fellas who work for me.”
“Listen,” you shuffled effortlessly towards the desk and sat down in the opposing chair, “Im not here to make enemies with hard working guys such as yourselves. In fact I sort of respect you and you’re skills.”
“Y/n.” You shuddered at the use of your real name, not Joy as you had ironically named yourself, “Who said I want us to be enemies?”
He lent further now, and you finally glanced at his face and took a chance to relish in just how, to put it frankly, fuckable he was. His eyes were heavy lidded and sleepy, yet the pupils were more alive then your heartbeat at this point, and his lips looked far too bowed to be on a man that allowed such profanities to slip by them. His skin looked contradictorily soft and supple, save for the large scar that reached from the arch of his brow to his cheek bone. His lips parted dryly, “So, I was thinking of hiring you.”
“Hiring? Hiring me? Me?” Your eyebrows practically stitched together in confusion.
“We know how you work. We admire your work- hmm- ethic.” You smiled internally at your impressive and non harmful way of making money. What can you say, you loved fucking people around, but not enough to kill.
“So you’re asking me to become your own personal hitman, except not really since I’m not bona fide?”
To say you were shocked would be an understatement. You did dirty worse than most hitmen: pay half upfront, mess around with the target enough to freak them out, then never finish the job. You weren’t a killer, you didn’t have it in you, but neither were you a good person. Trouble never really came your way because, how does a criminal get another criminal into trouble?
Snitching was the worst crime of all in the underworld. But that didn’t stop you from making a lot enemies down below.
“Sort of,” He fishes around his desk draw to look for something, “You have good gun talent, stamina, aim, steady hand. And us hiring you would create a lot of business deals since you’re so feared around here.”
You thought about becoming a part of a team, your entire life had been independent. Solo. Isolated.
“I will consider joining on one condition.”
The man’s eyes subtly lit up, “Yes, name it,” he kept his voice steady.
“You must introduce me to all members first.”
All men inside the back room led you down a dimly lit corridor, where you could hear the amplified bass on the other side of the wall.
“Through here. We’ll order a private booth and some drinks in there.”
Each monster, barring the one who had introduced them, still had masks on and hoods up, guns re-pocketed in their holsters as they walked through into the nightclub, El Mariachi’s.
It looked like a generic dance club, low ceilings and elevated dance floors, except at the far end was a stage, and on it was a live band playing and female dancers along the edge. It was distinctly unusual for a dance club, and everyone still moved along. You sort of wished your visit here hadn’t been a business one, just so you’d get an opportunity to go have some fun and wreak havoc.
“Later,” He whispered into your ear as he clasped your forearm and took you along with all the others to a separate curtained booth. The inside was circular and had a small table in the middle, as well as an ashtray and cigarette dispenser. Each wall covered in a mirror from top to the leather booth. You could see yourself in eight different angles. You looked flushed, but hard-faced as always. You could see why a girl as averagely built as yourself mustered up anxiety in even the mightiest of men; you had a nose ring through your right nostril, and a nick taken out of a brow that kept a scar in its place. Your eyes were darkly rimmed with kohl-Black and your lips there usual full and chapped selves.
“Please sit, y/n.”
You scooted along to the back and watched as it filled up enough for the two closest to touch you shoulder to shoulder.
“They can come off now.”
You watched as the rooms collective each reached to detach the elastic from around their ears and lower the masks and hoods.
“I’m Yoongi by the way,” The man already known to you tells you, “I’m second in command here.”
“You mean you aren’t the boss?” The question resulted in a chuckle from the rest of the members. You were too afraid to look them all in the eye just yet, so made eye contact only with Yoongi.
“Do you really think a boss is gonna let himself be left so vulnerable?” You looked over to where the voice came from and met eyes with a shit eating grin and crescent shaped eyes, “I go by J-Hope here, I’m a big fan of your gun work.”
He leans in and places a kiss on your ring decorated knuckle. Your eyes roll upwards, but you smile non the less. His hair is straight and shiney, yet still messy, as if his hands spend a lot of time running through it (or someone else’s do).
“And I’m Jin, the gang’s prettiest,” one eye is blackened with bruises, and his full lip is busted open and more swollen then they already are with natural plumpness, “And don’t mind J-Hope, he’s a little trigger happy.”
“I gathered that,” You reach to shake his extended hand and notice how muscled his forearm is. A throat clearing broke your contact with Jin as you turned to the next person. Sat to your right was a small but well built member, with a soft smile and soft eyes, completely out of place for his surroundings.
“I’m Jimin. I drive people places and, well, get shit done.”
You’d done this long enough to know what that meant. A silent nod showed him you understood. He was well stacked enough for you to know that he had definitely got his hands dirty once or twice.
“Sorry if we hurt you earlier, no hard feelings about the dragging around yeah?”
Rolling your eyes, finally, you turned to your left and were face to face with a man who looked to handsome to have ever needed to make money in such a wrong way. His eyes were intense and his lip had a ring going round into his mouth, his tongue absentmindedly fiddling with it.
“Taehyung. I suppose I’m their trademark robber. I’m pretty handy with a knife too.” Your mind immediately imagined him with a knife clutched in between his teeth, the sight easy to believe.
“Nice to meet you.” You shook his hand like a professional and turned away from one another. But there was one member you hadn’t met. The member you shot yesterday in the parking complex.
“What about um..” you trailed off, not knowing how to bring up the member injured at your hands.
“Jungkook. He’ll be okay. You’ll sort of be taking his place for a week, then consider your debt repaid. After that we’ll pay you for each deed done. Satisfying?”
“How much per?”
“Two.”
“Hundred?”
“Grand.”
Your mouth made an ‘o’ shake. To the average eye, it seems like a skint amazing for such a high risk line of business, but considering how often deals come up that racks up a few thousand a week. Your mind was already made.
“So,” You sipped your drink innocently, “when do I begin?”
A half hour drive in a stretch Bentley later, you arrive at what is known as HQ. Jimin truthfully told you it’s just where they eat, sleep and train. Never anything illegal happens there. It’s sort of an unspoken rule.
All 5 pairs of eyes were on you in the drive over, watching you, calculating you, figuring you out. Jhope, Jin and Jimin were well mannered and welcoming to you, but Taehyung’s gaze on you was so burning you couldn’t help but stare back. His eyes reflected threat and warning. You squirmed in your seat uncomfortable nude his eye.
The building you arrived in front of was a warehouse style and shape, but a high up window had a dim light glowing from it.
“So this is home,” Yoongi half heartedly gestured to the structure, “The contract for your membership is in Namjoon’s office, but I doubt you’ll want to go through all of that now. For now, I’ll show you to your room.”
You were taken aback, “I’ll be living here?”
“Yes. We need to be able to have you at hand for jobs whenever. This line of work doesn’t have shifts.”
You shrugged and nodded it off, but in your mind, you couldn’t be more thrilled.
Your apartment was a door down from a meth addict, a door up from a teen mother and her badly cared for baby, and directly above was a couple arguing every night.
“If you want,” J-Hope lent across to speak into your ear, “We can swing by your place tomorrow on the way to pick up supplies and grab your belongings.”
You thought about it for a while, “Believe me. There’s nothing there I want to see ever again.”
The line of you led up and into the warehouse, Yoongi flicking the switch. Lights flickered on in strips one by one across the high ceiling. Across the vast space were sectioned off areas of training equipment. A gun guard and target sheets took up a part of the wall, along with a boxing ring and punching bags, weights and gym equipment. At the far back wall there was an open plan kitchen. It was your heaven.
Jin found your taken aback expression amusing, “You like, newbie?”
“Like? This is my fuckin’ dream, dude!”
“Yeah well speaking of dreams, you gotta get rest. Namjoon hates cranky, tired people. Yoongi being his only exception,” Yoongi shrugged over in yours and Jin’s direction, “So I suggest you go to bed. I’ll take you to the empty room.”
You turned to head up the stairs and saw the remaining men already sat at their coffee table, playing a game of poker with scotch glasses.
“Night y/n!” J-Hope yelled towards your retraining body. You simply waved back at the men’s attention.
Jin took you up the dim stairs and you heard muffled voices from behind a closed door, “Don’t mind Jungkook. He has things he’s gotta sort out at the moment.”
You nodded back, Jin stopping at your door.
“Let me know if you want anything. Oh and breakfast is at 7am sharp every day. Training at 8. Don’t be late, Namjoon isn’t afraid of any form of punishment needed.”
And with that, Jin left.
You couldn’t sleep. Your mind was racing with thoughts of the boy in the next room to you, and how you inflicted a pretty hefty bullet wound onto his thigh, just missing his kneecap. ‘I could see this not going down too well’ you twisted and turned in you sleep as you imagined his reaction when he finds out you nearly crippled him for life.
Your night’s train of thought was disturbed by your need to pee a few hours later. Opening the door softly, you crept down the corridor to the open door that held the loo.
When you’d finished, you twisted the knob for the door and opened it and instantly walked straight into another body, your scantily clad skin making direct contact with someone else’s naked torso. Your body stumbles onto him as his falls back out of the doorway into the corridor. Your arm hit the handle on your way down, leaving a nasty cut in its place.
“Fucking hell- that’s twice you’ve injured me,” You freeze instantly from your wincing and look down at the boy underneath yours. His face is covered by a messy flop of fringe, his smile slightly crooked and slightly visible, his eyes his eyes holding as much intensity as Taehyung’s that you had looked into earlier.
“I am so sorry about the-“
“Don’t worry about it. You don’t know me. You were only doing your job, it’s pointless having hard feelings in this job.”
You blushed, a thing you hadn’t done in years, at how foolish and careless you could have been. It wasn’t like you to let your guard down and in a few short hours you had allowed yourself to team up and trust strangers.
His face contorted into a frown as he looked down at the gash you hadn’t noticed yet, “You’re bleeding.”
“It’ll be fine, I’ve had worse,” you glanced at it nonchalantly.
“Let me help.”
You rolled off of him and jumped back up, allowing him to stretch his body up. You watched his muscles contract with each minor movement, admiring how his physique clearly showed his hard work and dedication. He was broad, overwhelmingly broad, and his back muscles were pronounced. As he bent his legs to get up, his thighs tensed and you could see the thews shift.
His brawny arms reached up to a shelf with a box reading “first aid” on it.
“You don’t need to do that,” you insisted, suddenly feeling sheepish.
“Namjoon will be pissed if he finds out a new recruit is already injured, much less at the hands of me,” he outstretched his hand to your arm. With delicate surprise, his calloused fingers padded lightly on your own scarred skin.
“I still have yet to meet this Namjoon. What’s he like?”
“Not as scary as he likes to think. However you can’t outweigh his intelligence. People treat people like him as ‘nerds’, but it’s an underestimated skill,” He takes his time wiping the stray blood, “I’m Jungkook by the way. I’m a bit of a baby in comparison to everyone else.”
“My name’s Jo- Y/n, my name is Y/n.”
“You have impeccable aim and precision, but you didn’t hit me anywhere critical. Why?”
“I don’t kill. Simple.”
“You won’t be saying that for long around here.”
You gulped with dread for what felt like the hundredth time that night. He pulled the lid off a bottle with his teeth, “This is gonna sting a little.”
You chuckled at his concern, “I think I can handle it.”
The liquid stung but nowhere near as bad as any pain you’d already felt.
“So who did you work for before us?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Don’t worry we won’t-“
“It’s a hitman rule. You never tell people who hired you, and they’ll pay half up front.”
“Yes but don’t forget you broke the hitmen rules by never actually killing,” He smirked at you. His smile was contagious enough to pass onto your lips.
“I didn’t work for anyone. I worked for myself. Namjoon isn’t buying me out of anyone, he’s hiring me.”
Jungkook’s face turned into one of surprise, he stopped wrapping bandage around your arm to look at you. His eyes showed signs of confusion and unrecognisable emotion.
“You’re telling me that you, a girl that reaches my nose in height, is a solo gunner?”
You grinned back at him and walked towards the door, “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Sleep came a lot better the second time round.
next
#bts#bts scenarios#bts imagines#bts reactions#jungkook#jungkook smut#taehyung#jimin#jhope#yoongi#namjoon#jin#seokjin#bts mafia#bts au#taehyung smut#bts network#smut#love yourself#fake love
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