#THE SPLATTERS ACROSS HIS ARM AND TORSO AND *FACE* | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jjjjisun · 1 month ago

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Ask Your Daddy (Part 2)

Minju X Male OC | 14480 words

TW: Incest

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Part 1 / Part 2

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It was a glint of sunlight that awoke him some number of hours later. At first, he rolled his shoulders back to loosen up, feeling a weight on his arm and chest as he did so. He looked down to see his daughter nuzzled under his arm in the same incredible lingerie, though seeing her practically naked form in the light of the morning was arguably better. Then he saw the drying, but some still damp streaks on her stomach from where she'd spent him the night before.

"Shit!" Jae said aloud.

Minju awoke, hearing her father's voice. "Mmmmnhhh," she murmured, pulling at his torso with her hands, "good morning daddy."

She sounded so adorable to Jae that he didn't want to just toss her from his hold and make her feel like they'd made a huge mistake.

"Minju," he shook her, "you have to get up."

When she opened her eyes, Minju saw that her father's cock was completely erect again. He'd had enough time to get a good look at the gorgeous teen before he'd realized they were still very exposed and in an unquestionably forbidden position together on the couch. "Ooo," the devious little brunette said with excitement, reaching over casually and grazing her father's cock with her gentle touch. His muscle flexed at the feeling. "Should we do another lesson dad?"

As Minju wrapped her hand around his cock, Jae almost threw caution to the wind and allowed her to stroke her like they'd done the night before. But the prospects of continuing to teach his daughter everything he wanted to got the better of him.

"Yes, but we can't now honey. It's morning; we've got to get up and get cleaned up before your mother or brother see us.

"That would be really naughty, wouldn't it daddy? We could get in so much trouble if someone saw how much cum I made you squirt on my tummy last night." Minju was obviously enjoying the taboo. "Especially if I said how much I liked doing it!" She sat up excitedly, "And how much I liked when you rubbed my pussy daddy! Can't we do it again, please?"

"Minju, no!" Jae cautioned, "please honey, we've got to get you out of sight and cleaned off!"

"Hmmmph," Minju pouted, watching her father stand up and cover up his erection with his pants.

She didn't want to have to pretend ALL DAY that she and her dad weren't exploring an exciting new path in their relationship. But now she was feeling disappointed and kind of mad, being shuffled off by her dad like nothing had happened. She got to her feet unenthusiastically as her father took her hands and pulled her up, against her will.

"Minju," he said, taking her down-turned face in his hands and lifting it towards his own, "I love you sweetheart," Jae sounded truly sincere and paused, "We can keep having our lessons, but I think you're smart enough to know that if anyone saw you like this..."

Jae ran a finger down his daughter's neck, across her collarbone and then hooked the top of her bra, playfully tugging it like he wanted to see her hidden nipple inside. When Minju looked down she was warming up again, reassured that her father wanted her. They both saw the messy surface of Minju's midsection together, causing Minju to smile with pride.

At any moment his wife could have walked down the stairs and seen him touching his daughter. There wasn't a chance she could miss the results of the previous evening splattered on the half-naked brunette's front. Still, he was powerless when his offspring looked up into his eyes with that sultry grin and big blue eyes full of content; he just had to kiss her.

At first, Minju didn't know what to do. It didn't feel like any other kiss that they'd shared, right from the start. Her father's warm palms on either side of her face were wonderful, she stepped up onto her toes and pressed her lips more firmly against his. She felt the tent in her father's pants brushing just above the waist of her bottoms. If she could have stayed there forever, she would have, especially when their mouths parted and opened to each other. Minju was inexperienced, but somehow she felt inspired to dart her tongue between their connected lips.

Minju's presence was intoxicating to her father, who was feeling the nervousness of their exposure build while he began to fear that they would start something he couldn't stop. His hands were already moving toward Minju's sides; he couldn't get enough of touching her there. When finally they reached there, both Minju and Jae were getting more aggressive about kissing each other and wanting more. Jae had to put a stop to it before they were found.

He firmly grabbed under Minju's rib cage and pushed her back from him, watching her lean in to maintain contact with his lips. She gasped again and glared at him like she was going to throw a fit. He couldn't yield to her, no matter how much he wanted to reach out and pull off her tiny bra and panties so she could be his pouting AND naked little daughter simultaneously.

"Nope," he said aloud, alerting them both that he would not be continuing. Minju felt her dad twist her hips away from him and then with a step towards her and two hands on the cheeks of her mostly uncovered butt, push her toward the door to the house. Minju looked back at her father and bit her lip for him before finally obeying him and heading toward the house. He watched her the whole way thinking 'my god am I in some trouble with that one.'

While Jae was inspecting the area, picking up the hardly used condom that Minju had cast on the floor, he started making promises he knew he couldn't keep again. 'This is a bad idea,' he thought, 'I should put an end to it right now.'

Minju was in the shower, feeling all different kinds of things as she remembered all the places on her body where her dad had touched her, and finally her midsection where he had coated her in spunk. She felt silly and lovesick wondering if her dad would let her keep pursuing their 'lessons,' if they could even be called that anymore. The whole time she wore a huge smile thinking of him; her dad had made her feel truly wonderful and she craved his attention even more. "You look fresh this morning," her mother commented when Minju came downstairs, her dad was avoiding eye contact because he didn't want to give them away.

"You think?" implored Minju, "I guess dad and I didn't get too carried away last night and I slept really well. Perhaps we should go crazy tonight though."

The look on her father's face was priceless as he gazed at her over his orange juice glass.

"Well you can count me out, you two stay up way too late for me. What do you even talk about all that time?"

"I don't know," said Minju, "anything, everything. Most stuff I don't even remember, but we have a lot of fun together, don't we Daddy?"

Jae tried to act completely normal as his daughter threw her arms around him from behind. In truth, nothing she said would necessarily tip his wife off. Thankfully, she couldn't see beneath the table because even the slightest touch by his naughty teenager was causing his pants to stir. 'Yep...trouble,' he thought again. Jae decided to play along with Minju; it excited him to keep the secret from Eunju.

"I guess I'm just trying to teach my baby everything she wants to know before she leaves us." Jae snuck his arm around Minju and tugged her over to his side. His wife had stopped paying attention to them, so he dared snake his fingers under the hem of his daughter's shirt. As his hand came upon her sexy and now cleaned-off abs, he finished: "We cover a lot of things don't we honey?"

Minju opened her mouth in shock and mouthed 'DAD' at him. His fingers traced the ribbons that had been there only minutes before. When the silence was long enough that Jae worried his wife might look, they broke apart.

"Well," Eunju said, finally looking up from her phone, "the Son's are getting here tomorrow so I expect you both to be good guests. Minju, maybe you can save some of that nighttime conversation for Sun-woo?"

As usual, that seemed to kill the mood and Minju went outside to sit in the morning sun soon after. Jae felt for his daughter; Eunju didn't seem to care at all how Minju actually felt about it, she just kept pushing. He knew that he had at least a day and a night full of his wife and that annoying Mi-Young cackling and talking about nonsense and reality shows until they finally went to bed. He didn't know yet how they'd deal with the son, Sun-woo, but he'd figure that out.

Most of all, as Jae looked out at his daughter laying out on a towel in yet another swimsuit, he was hoping they might get one more night alone. She would be the death of him, thought Jae as he recalled that he'd recently sworn not to take things any further, again.

But that suit! Could she wear anything that didn't cause him to fantasize jumping her in the lawn without a care who saw. This one was no less revealing than the last, more even. It started with the hot pink, strapless top. Minju's little, tanned shoulders uncovered revealed a charming tan line where they would usually be covered. The strip that went around her toned back was pretty simple, save the two cups that supported her breasts. He could not fathom how it stayed up. He couldn't decide if the bottoms were a thong or not. Perhaps he was just being prude, but they didn't look to be more than an inch wide in any spot. Jae guessed that somehow made them okay.

He must have stared at her all day and so did plenty of other men, he noticed, as she was water-skiing or sitting in the boat. It pained him to have little or no ability to get his hands on her all day; they were simply never alone. Jae truly enjoyed when he caught Minju staring his way, clearly deep in thought. Nobody knew; nobody could know, but having something between them as intimate as the last few nights they had spent together was driving both Jae and Minju crazy in the best way.

Once, when they were swimming in the water together, Minju's mom and brother had gotten back onto the boat to grab a snack and a beer from the cooler. Minju and her dad were mostly out of sight near the other side of the boat, wearing lifejackets to keep them comfortably afloat.

"Hi Daddy," Minju had said in the most adorable way she could, pursing her lips together.

"Hi baby," said her dad, floating closer to her steadily.

"I've been thinking about our lesson last night; I think you left a few things out." Minju implied.

"I've been thinking about it too." Jae replied, feeling Minju reaching out for him under the water. He checked back up toward the boat, where his wife and son had sat down and were chatting while they snacked and drank beer. "What did I leave out?"

Minju kept quiet for a moment. She felt her dad's hips come into contact with hers and she instantly knew that he was hard. Instead of answering him, Minju maneuvered her hips so that she could wrap her legs around him and trap his cock between them. Jae's hands quickly went to her sides, but whether to hold her off or to keep her on he did not know.

Jae checked, the coast was still clear.

"Minju, don't you think this is going a little far?" He asked as he felt Minju's hips rotate around and his bulging cock being rubbed on the spot he just knew was her tiny quim.

"What?" she asked as if they were doing nothing wrong, "You'd just be teaching, and we'd never have to do anything skin-to-skin if you didn't want to?"

"Where's the fun in that?" Jae said without thinking, then immediately regretting it.

Minju looked stunned, and even when her dad told her he was just kidding, she didn't believe him. She did keep grinding her hips on him, and for a silent moment or two, they just stayed locked together, only ten feet from their other family members and making some totally forbidden and yet amazing contact under the water.

"So... tonight?" Minju asked.

"Tonight." said her dad.

Minju reached down between them and took hold of her father's cock through his shorts, slowly pushing him away but obviously knowing the effect she was having on him. In truth, Jae wished the contact had never happened, because afterwards he couldn't get out of the water for ten solid minutes, he still had to be tortured by the eighteen-year-old in that sexy swimsuit all day. Watching her breasts bounce inside it as they played lawn games that day was one of the worst teases he'd ever experienced in his life.

"Early day tomorrow, hun?" Jae goaded his wife when he'd finally reached the end of his patience.

"Yes, and on that note I'm off to bed. You too better not get into too much trouble tonight, because I'm getting you up early!"

"Yeah yeah," said Jae, "you're the one that's gonna have the hangover after all of those margaritas."

"Oh shut up!" said his wife, "just get her to bed at a reasonable hour, will you?"

"What about Do-yun, doesn't he need to go to bed early?" interjected Minju.

Do-yun had taken the boat across the lake to a friend's home and he said he'd be back just after dark. It had been dark for a while by then, so he was probably staying over.

"Don't you worry about your brother," said Minju's mother, "he doesn't really have to entertain anyone tomorrow like you do."

"MOM! I told you! I don't want to be Sun-woo's personal tour guide, this is my vacation too."

"Yes yes, just get some rest tonight alright?"

Minju only grumbled.

"Goodnight honey," said Jae as she went off to bed leaving her husband and daughter alone.

For a few long minutes, Minju and Jae just stared at each other half smiling and half testing the other's reserve.

"Do you want to go down by the water and lay on a blanket with me Daddy?"

"Sure," said Jae, glad one of them had finally spoke up.

He still took the opportunity to watch his lithe little teen stand up and show off her body to him while she searched for the right blanket. When she found it, she strutted over to her dad with a hand extended to help him out of his seat. Jae stood up and pressed against her; he knew where this night was heading and it had his emotions in overdrive.

Together they spread the blanket on the grass by the moonlit water. Minju lay down on her back and stretched out for her dad to see. She wanted him to want her like he had the night before. He did, Jae just didn't want to be too upfront about it for fear he couldn't control himself.

He lay down next to her and traced one finger from her small chin all the way to the spot just above her bottoms. Minju shivered in anticipation.

"I really liked what we did last night daddy, you know that right?" Minju said.

"I did too Minju', but I want to really careful that I don't take advantage of you."

Truthfully, that's exactly what Minju wanted him to do, but she felt like she shouldn't outright say it. "I promise you're not daddy, I'll tell you any time I feel uncomfortable."

That made her dad feel a bit better, and the way he added a few fingers to the path of his hand on her stretched out body told Minju that too.

"Can we practice the condom again Dad?"

"...sure honey," Jae said after a short pause. He got out the box from his pocket and Minju eagerly took it from him.

"Let me take those off for you dad," she said after she'd gotten a wrapper out of the box.

Jae watched as his naughty little girl unbuttoned his trunks and tugged them down, but then swung her leg over him so she was straddling his thighs. It was almost too close for comfort, and where his cock had only been partially hard before, he was quickly solid. Minju giggled when she saw it harden before her eyes.

"You like it when I'm on top huh daddy?" asked Minju, sounding irresistible.

"Yes, but you be good now Minju, just the condom this time okay?" He was trying so hard to stay on track.

Even so, Minju grabbed right for his cock first. Her hand on him felt amazing, though Jae did give his daughter a knowing stare to knock it off. After she'd held him tight and even jerked her hand a little up and down, Minju went to work putting the condom on her father.

This time she did it faster with only about three strokes downward, to Jae's dismay.

"There," she said, sitting back, "how did I do?"

"That was good Minju, I think you're learning." He replied. She'd gone too fast, Jae was thinking that at the very least he could feel her little hand on him for more than a few seconds and the lesson could stay relatively innocent..

"Well since I did so good, could I learn a little more?" she asked, trying to sound naive.

Jae felt cut short, he couldn't help himself, "Sure baby, what do you want to know?"

"I want to know what you'd do next? Like, if I wasn't your daughter, what would you do.?"

"Well..." Jae started, wondering if he could bring himself to answer, "I think you know what a condom is for Minju?"

"For us to have sex?"

"No..." Jae recovered, "not for US to have sex Minju, you know we can't do that."

"I KNOW Daaad... I didn't say you actually had to put your cock inside me, I just want to know what comes next."

Jae couldn't take it. The way Minju was talking was so inappropriate it almost made him mad. Of course, she still held his shaft in her hand after he'd given her permission to put a condom on him so he had no right to scold her. But really saying 'put your cock inside me;'she couldn't be completely serious. Deep down, Jae knew what his daughter was doing, so he also knew that if he let things continue that he was disregarding his own promises. He groaned in frustration and swiftly flipped the two of them around so he was in charge. Minju laughed aloud when she found herself on her back so suddenly.

The rearrangement had pulled Minju tight against her dad, putting his cock, which was thankfully covered, right against those tiny black bottoms Minju had picked out just for her dad. They both looked down and saw it, and the incestuous nature of the proximity chipped away at Jae's reserve.

"I think I should be naked Daddy," Minju said, squirming. She took her dad's cock in her hand right near her little pussy. Jae didn't feel it was fair.

"I don't think so Minju, even with the condom on that is too risky."

"Why is it risky dad, can't you just show me how we would do it? Like how it looks before you put it in, and how we come together and stuff. I don't want to be totally clueless when I do this for the first time."

The reminder that Minju was a virgin made his cock jump again. This was ridiculous. No. She could not get naked and lie down in front of him so they could 'pretend' to have sex.

"It's risky Minju, because I you are very beautiful and I don't think I can handle you naked without wanting more than our lesson."

There, he said it. Minju loved it. She was far from giving up.

"Please daddy, take my clothes off?" She begged, "I just want to be as close to the real thing as possible. I want to be naked for you."

Minju pushed her breasts upward by arching her back off the blanket. Her hips again urged that tiny mound of hers against her father's cock. It was so stupid by then, pretending that they were just practicing or learning when Jae's cock was only a layer of fabric and a request away from taking his daughter's virginity.

What was even more foolish was pretending that he hadn't been dying to get his baby out of her tiny swimsuit. As he gazed down at her body and the close proximity of their lower halves, Jae decided that he didn't want to see the outfit on her anymore, he just wanted his daughter naked and completely his.

He reached down to her torso and, though surprised he'd finally agreed, Minju rolled to the side to give him access. Jae reached behind her and tugged the clasp apart that was holding her top on. Minju didn't move an inch after she'd laid back flat. She was testing her father to see if he could follow through. Sure enough, he did.

When he finally pulled the pink swimsuit top free, Jae no longer regretted making the decision. Her breasts were so incredible, perky and round atop her chest that he went right for them. His hips ground against hers involuntarily as his hand came to hold on to one soft mound. Minju gasped as her father palmed her tit, and then moaned as she felt his cock directly on top of her damp lips. Jae could feel her tiny nipple pressing into his palm. Touching her, and seeing his topless daughter beneath him nearly gave him a heart attack.

So, he hesitated little in reaching down to remove her bikini panties as well. Minju was so happy about it that she couldn't hide a giant smile. God did she look pretty. When the black bottoms came over her knees, then her ankles and finally off her foot, Jae knew he was done for.

She was, as before, totally shaven. Her lips were small, not yielding a bit to reveal the entrance to her tight insides. Her entire mound was glistening in the moonlight, wet with desire for her father. Minju spread her legs so he could reposition himself in front of her.

"Careful honey," he warned.

"Ohhhh daad," she called to him as his hand returned to her teenage breasts, "is this how it would feel... if we were really going to do it?"

"Yes baby... if."

"I feel so nervous I think I could explode," Minju told him

"Why are you nervous honey?"

"Because I'm naked just for you now daddy and I don't know what you're thinking," Minju said truthfully

"I'm thinking that you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen Minju." Jae said, meaning it.

Minju responded physically to the compliment, both smiling and then lifting her hips toward her dad. Whether she meant to or not, it caused her soaked mound to come in contact directly with the underside of her father's shaft. They both flinched, but Minju did not back away.

"Mnnnhhh... Daddy... ohmyGod," Minju cooed, feeling her father push her hips back down with his own. Jae couldn't deny the pleasure he felt doing so, but he was still so worried he would end up taking his daughter's virginity because he couldn't resist.

"How does it feel dad, when if first goes in?" she asked, intoxicated with lust for him.

"With you Minju? I think it would be very tight your first time. We'd have to go very slow so you could adjust."

"But would it feel good daddy?" She implored, breathing heavy with her father's warm hand on her breast.

"Yes baby, it would feel good if we did it right." Jae merely spoke in streams of consciousness. He was beside himself, driven by pleasure, love for his little girl, and a faltering resistance to being his daughter's first.

"But we can't, right?"

This time Jae was surprised, and not sure that he was glad that Minju was the one being responsible.

"Right sweetie, that's not allowed between the two of us."

"Even if I ask you to? Even if we both wanted to?" Minju said with wide eyes searching his.

"Yes honey, it's still incest."

"Can you just slide your cock on me like we were before daddy? I really want to feel that again, I promise we don't have to do any more."

Jae answered by acting instead of talking. He closed the gap between their hips and looked down to that pretty spot where Minju's tiny slit would accept him. He rotated his hips so that the underside of his shaft planted right between his teen's puffy lips.

"Right there dad, uh huhhh... "

"You're very pretty down there too Minju," said her dad, making her blush, "does that feel good?"

"Yes daddy, you're a really good teacher... unhhh," Minju continued playing, "can you slide it on my pussy, like how you would if it was in me?"

Jae did just that, eliciting a moan from his eighteen-year-old immediately. He'd never felt so utterly aroused with a woman before in his life, and he wasn't even making love to his daughter...yet. 'NO,' he reminded himself. But god did she look so good. He hadn't imagined that Minju got any prettier; she'd been wearing so little that he had only to fill in the blanks. But looking down at his beautiful daughter, Jae knew he had been wrong.

"Fuckkk daaaad... your cock feels so good.....ohhhhh.... even better than your fingers."

Hearing Minju say things like that was mind-blowing. It reminded him of exactly what they were doing, and the forbidden nature of it spurred him on. Jae increased the pace at which he was thrusting against his little girl, his staff working between her lips to stimulate her clit and every other millimeter it touched.

"Oooo keep doing that daddy... it's almost like you're fucking me for real..." Minju paused and looked her father right in the eyes, sharing the moment with him as she experienced the sensation of his shaft sliding wonderfully against her pussy "mnnnh, I love you so much dad."

"I love you too honey, you're such a good girl."

"Mnnngh...is THIS being your good girl?" she asked, helping him grind into her with an upward thrust of her hips. "Having an orgasm from my daddy's cock...oh uhhh fuuuck... is being good?" Minju asked incredulously.

Jae was becoming wild upon hearing his daughter's words. He had no idea where she got them from, but it made him want her even more. Jae and his daughter were getting close to cumming again, this time a little differently, but they could both read it on each other easily.

"Daddy?" Minju bit her lip and tried to look cute, "I want you to make me your bad girl."

Jae kept moving his hips, but slowed. "What do you mean Minju'?"

They stayed silent for a moment, looking down to watch Jae's cock sliding amazingly against his teenager's young quim.

"Teach me daddy... uhhh..." she cooed, wrapping a leg around her father's backside so he wouldn't stop stimulating her pussy, "teach me what your cock feels like inside me."

Jae slowed to a near stop, discerning whether he'd heard her right.

"Please.... ohhhplease... I want you to!" she pleaded, "don't you want to put your big cock in me daddy? Finally? I want it so bad."

How could he say no. How could he deny that he'd dreamed of this very moment, even after how many times he'd promised himself not to. His daughter was the most beautiful young girl, inside and out; would he really pass up an opportunity to make love to her?

"You have a condom on so it's safe," Minju went on. "Don't you want to fuck your little girl? She wants to feel your hard cock inside her... please daddy, put it in me?"

Jae had inched his hips outward so his tip was close enough that both he and Minju wondered if they would soon be locked in incest. He looked up and down his little girl's body, knowing that it would only move him closer to the deed. When his eyes landed on Minju's big blues, wide and begging him to take her, he decided.

"I do Minju, I've been thinking about you for a while now. But are you sure you want me to be your first?"

"Since forever," Minju said, the truth of it in her eyes.

One more time, Jae slid his cock up the path between his daughter's lips. This time, the distance that he traveled up her pelvis showed just how much of her father's penis would be inside her. Minju was floored, but no less willing to try.

"Fuck me daddy." she said when he'd finished the act. The readiness was apparent in her voice.

"Put your hand there Minju...oh that's it little one," he instructed, watching as she did so and then groaning when her fingers wrapped around him. "Now put the tip right near your....ohhh..."

Minju was ahead of him, and rubbed her clit with his tip first before obeying him. Jae was lucky to be wearing the condom, otherwise he might have cum right in her entrance.

He pushed once. Minju's lips tried to yield, but he'd been too gentle.

Again, Jae pushed, the wetness of Minju's young pussy beckoning his head into her. It almost did, but lingered on the outside still. If he did it one more time... just a little harder... Minju, his own daughter, would no longer be a virgin by his own doing. The reality was so magnetic that Jae almost buried himself into her all the way.

Then came the deep chugging of a boat engine.

It was close. Very close.

Minju's eyes read a mixture of desire, nervousness and then terror in realizing what was happening. Her father's cockhead was still prodding at her entrance and she was but a second from giving her virginity to her own father. She wanted it so badly she could scream!

'NO!' she shouted inwardly instead. Minju tried to pull her father deeper with her leg but he was too strong. He recognized immediately that his son had come back from across the lake.

"No daddy... please!" Minju whispered to him, begging him not to stop.

But his hips had already pulled back, and the tip of his cock, which had Minju anticipating the most wonderful moment of her adult life was gone. She and her father had finally crossed the line of merely wanting each other into something much more, and it was stolen out from under them in a second. She cursed her brother.

"I'm so sorry Minju, but we have got to move NOW!"

They didn't have time, so he scooped Minju up, blanket, swimsuit and everything and rushed toward the house as they heard the boat connect with the dock. In seconds it would be tied up and Minju's brother could have seen their father with his cock planted inside his own little sister. If only he had come back a few seconds later, God she hated him right then. He ruined everything!

When he got to the house, Jae set Minju down. She was riotous. She couldn't tell if she was furious with her dad, her brother, or nobody at all, she just was. It was so obvious on her face that her father didn't need to ask.

"I know you're mad Minju, but you didn't really want me to keep going with your brother right there did you?"

She wasn't going to give in. Not a chance. "Yes, I did dad! All I wanted was for you to make me yours, and you just stopped! It was dark, you don't know if he would have seen!"

Jae wished she would keep her voice down, he tried to hush her with a finger to his lips.

"I was naked for you dad, and I told you how much I loved you and that I wanted you to take my virginity,,, and you said you wanted to too!"

She was hardly talking quieter. He looked down and saw Do-yun walking back their way on the dock. It was too dark to see all the way across the yard, but they couldn't stay there.

"I do! But please sweetie, for me, you have to go to your room and get in bed. I'll deal with your brother."

Minju was horrified. She could not believe her dad was now telling her to go to bed like a child. She went, but was so mad she could hardly stand it. With her bikini in hand, Jae watched as his naked, angry little girl scampered upstairs to her room. He knew she was throwing a tantrum because she probably felt used, and deprived and even a little confused. Hopefully she would come around, but they were not going to be able to follow through that night.

In the nick of time, Jae realized that he too had no pants on, so he grabbed a pair and dressed. Before shoving his erection up into the belt, he removed the condom, noticing that the tip was still shining wet from being at the entrance of his baby's pussy. Somehow, all his son saw when he walked in the door was his father in the same chair on the screened in porch with a beer. He had no idea.

All Jae could think about as his son went on about who he was with and what they'd been doing across the lake was his little girl. He knew she'd be lying, possibly naked, in her bedroom upstairs. She was probably so mad at him, and there was nothing he could do about it. Her fit little body would be curled up in bed and her face scrunched up into a pouting frown. His little brunette had been sprawled out in front of him for the taking, and the denial of sliding his throbbing member inside her untouched pussy was unbearable.

If his son could have just gone to bed, he might have been able to go and resurrect the tryst with Minju, and assure her that he still wanted her as badly as he had when she'd been begging him to take her. Instead, by the time Jae and Do-yun turned in and Jae checked in on Minju, she was fast asleep on her side facing away from the door. He didn't want to risk waking her or the anger she'd surely be harboring about their failed encounter. Closing the door despondently, he whispered goodnight and hoped she would sleep it off.

In truth, Minju was wide awake and knew her father had opened the door to see if she was okay but refused to let him win. She was still fuming that he'd stopped short of what she wanted so badly, and was determined to punish him for it. Still, Minju could feel a nagging warmth between her legs, a tingling remnant of the sensation of the tip of her father's cock hovering just outside her tiny opening. She would get what she wanted, but it was going to be on her terms, Minju promised herself.

The next morning was met with a flurry of activity, mostly as a result of Minju's mom making sure everything was ready for their guests to arrive. She was cleaning places in the cabin that nobody had even touched since they arrived, and there was not a second to devote to the little drama that existed between Minju and her father.

They exchanged a few glances, and Minju was tempted to reach out and touch her father's arm once or twice as they passed in the hall, but she refrained. Still wound up about the night before, Minju felt like the only way to tell her dad she was upset was to go radio silence on him. So that's what she did.

And it worked. Jae was wound up too, wondering if he'd finally gone too far with Minju. What was she feeling about how close they'd come to having sex the night before? For the last few days it had seemed like Minju didn't miss a single opportunity to flirt with her father, but now Jae was experiencing a coldness only his wife could have taught her.

Things only worsened when Mi-Young and her son, Sun-woo, arrived. There was not a second for Jae to pull Minju aside and talk to her about what had happened, or to apologize for leaving her in the dark the way he had. They said their greetings and as expected, Mi-Young and Eunju immediately went off chatting about silly drama at the country club and whatever else. Jae went through the obligatory small-talk with Sun-woo: where he was going to school and what he was studying.

From the moment Sun-woo laid eyes on Minju, Jae knew he liked what he saw. Just watching the look on his face when Minju greeted them in her tank top and jean shorts, Jae knew the kid was impressed. Nothing about Minju's body was TOO accentuated. Her breasts were not overly large, nor her butt or her legs too thin... she was just perfectly put together. The shorts she wore wrapped snugly around her hips and between that sought-after gap in her thighs. The top, simple and gray cotton, had not a wrinkle in it as it held hugged her taut midsection and held those beautiful breasts in place. And with just a touch of make-up, Minju was striking and she hadn't even tried to be.

The boy's reaction to seeing Minju infuriated Jae, but what was he to do? He could hardly get defensive or act too territorial around her. Even worse was that Minju didn't seem nearly as opposed to spending time with Sun-woo as she'd led him to believe earlier in the week. Watching her smile and laugh occasionally as the two of them talked throughout the morning made Jae want to break things or go into a rage.

Even suspecting that Minju was toying with him, Jae could not help himself wanting her, and wanting to toss Sun-woo out of the boat when they went for a quick tour around the lake that morning. Jae sighed in relief when they all agreed not to change into bathing suits; he couldn't have handled how aggressive Sun-woo might have gotten with his daughter if she put on one of those sexy bikinis.

All the while, Minju knew what she was doing. She could see her father squirm when Sun-woo put his hand on her in the back of the boat. She would smile or laugh, pretending she was having a good time, and her father would go white. She knew he'd be too proud to try and intervene, so he just stood by as Minju let him think something was developing between her and her new friend.

In truth, there was nothing about Sun-woo that Minju was interested in. He said a few jokes that made her chuckle that morning, but the extent of his usefulness was solely in the way her dad fidgeted when she paid him any attention. Her father was far more handsome, obviously more mature and all around a more interesting person. She also knew his love for her was far deeper than the way Sun-woo kept trying to brush his arm against her tits or how he suggested she sit on his lap when there wasn't enough space in the boat.

That's when Minju started to feel guilty about the defeated look on her father's face. A few hours of separation from him was enough for her, and from the way her father was tying up the boat in an exaggerated manner as everyone walked back toward the house, it was obviously enough for him too.

"I'm gonna wait for my dad, I'll be up in a minute," Minju told Sun-woo as he waited on her like an expectant puppy after they docked.

Sun-woo turned towards the house, looking lost and childish. Minju walked slowly down to where her dad was gathering trash from the boat and she could see just how frustrated he was.

"Hey daddy..." Minju said sheepishly.

Jae didn't respond. He went about filling the boat with gas and when Minju walked closer he finally addressed her.

"Do you need something Minju, kinda busy here?"

"No, I just thought I'd give you some company," she said, not wanting to give up. She knew she'd put him in this mood. Minju decided that even though she'd felt similarly the night before, they were probably more than even from her actions that morning.

She helped in silence, straightening up the life jackets and grabbing loose items around the boat before kneeling on the seat just inside where her dad was filling the tank. Looking as sweet as possible, she directed her blue eyes up to Jae's and did her best to turn him.

"Do you want to hang out later?" She asked, pushing her chest out and looking excited to see him, "just the two of us?"

"Maybe," replied Jae, "but I think you've got a guest to entertain."

He didn't want to sound like he was pouting. He refused to let an eighteen year old girl get the better of him, even if it was his own daughter who knew him best.

"But I don't want to. I want to be with you,.." the teenager said, sounding a bit whiny but adorable, "...alone." she finished.

Inside, Jae's heart pumped boldly for a few beats. He chanced a look into his young daughter's eyes. The splash of gas into a half-empty tank was all that could be heard between them, but their silence was compelling. Minju's disarming smile almost broke him, and she could have sworn the corners of her father's mouth turned.

"Pleaaaaase Daddy?" Minju begged

"Sure honey, if your mom lets you off the hook, we can spend a little time together. But you better get back up to the house."

Even though he was coming around Jae was still, admittedly, pissed. Now that she was back to her normal self, he suspected that she'd been playing games with him, though he wasn't positive. Minju put her hand on his shoulder tenderly as she stepped out of the boat and then kissed him on the side of the neck before scampering back down the dock. Once he saw her cute butt sway in her shorts he knew he'd not be able to hold out on her much longer, and Jae was not sure he wanted to.

Of course, when he returned to the house his wife had already laid out plans for the rest of the day. They were heading to the fruit-picking farm not far away and Jae was to get ready to go within twenty minutes. He sighed and agreed, feeling indifferent about it anyway.

An hour later they were there, listening to a farmhand explain where they were meant to pick and which orchards were out of season. Apparently, it was self-explanatory, the limits of the apple and cherry orchards they were going to be in that day were marked by a fence. After buying a few bottles of water for the group, each of them took a basket and headed for the grounds.

To his delight, Minju had all but shut Sun-woo out since her turnaround that morning. Now he was awkwardly shadowing her around and avoiding her when Minju hung on her father's arm around the orchard. Sun-woo might have even thought that the two of them were acting too intimately, but like Minju's father earlier that day he was in no position to criticize.

Minju was really putting on a show as they picked the apples from tree to tree. There were plenty of apples to choose from, but Jae had no complaints watching her reach to get the highest ones. Her beautiful legs, a strip of skin beneath the tank top as she stretched out, and the way her backside looked when she bent over to drop an apple in her basket... Jae soon forgot any animosity he'd been harboring.

They laughed, joked and horsed around, flirting like a couple of teenagers as they got farther away from the group. Watching his daughter frolic around, Jae was constantly reminded that his little girl was, indeed, only eighteen. But he simply connected with her in a way he could only expect with someone much older than Minju. And her body, with lines and curves he felt like he'd seen only on TV. Jae was practically panting to be closer to her when Minju stopped the two of them with a hand on his front.

"Is that the fence they were talking about?" she asked, rubbing her hand over her father's broad chest.

"I think so," replied Jae.

The fence was a temporary one, just over six feet tall, chain-link and with a dark fabric attached to each section so they couldn't see on the other side. Jae wondered what orchard they were on the border of.

Of course, Minju was to curious to just wonder. She set her basket under a low hanging tree and then stood in front of the fence and just expected that her dad would come give her a boost. Jae saw what she wanted so he followed her lead. When he approached her, Minju surprised him by reaching a hand behind her and touching his neck. He temporarily lost himself when she rolled her head back and pushed her butt into his shorts; it was the sexiest thing she'd done all day.

Looking around, Jae could see a couple of their party in the distance. They were probably too far to see anything at all, but he certainly could begin undressing his daughter right there against the fence. And still, Minju was beginning to move her hips so she could get her dad excited and feel him harden between them.

"So... are you going over or what?"

"Mhh hmmm..." Minju responded, purring.

Minju moved lazily out of their standing position to one where she was holding the fence in anticipation of scaling it. Jae put his hands on her hips and squeezed tight before lifting her up. She mounted the fence and swung her leg over in a few seconds. Jae's heart began beating faster as she hopped out of view on the other side of the fence. He looked behind and saw that they were still out of view of anybody he might not want to see him follow his daughter, or grab the folded cloth from his basket just before he did.

Landing on the other side, Jae looked around and saw no sign of Minju. The foliage was about the same on this side, a peach orchard, but the setting was far more beautiful. A thick blanket of bright-green grass covered the aisles in between trees and none of the fruit had fallen on the ground like it had in the apple orchard.

He couldn't exactly call to her, so he kept looking around and under the rows of trees. Finally he saw her, somewhat hiding behind a dense tree and leaning against it. He circled around it and found his daughter looking back at him with a finger to her lips and an incredibly mischievous look on her face.

"You hiding from me?" Jae asked her.

Minju just shook her head no. She appeared deep in thought.

"What's up Minju'?"

"I'm sorry I was mean to you today dad, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings,"

Jae thought for a second before reaching out for her and replying, "It's okay honey, I know you were upset with me."

Minju took her father's hand and came out into the space between the peach trees. She looked forward at his chest, feeling bashful or nervous or whatever it was. They took each other in. Just being alone, where nobody could find them was a huge relief and excited them equally.

It took a moment of standing there together for Minju to build up the courage. Slowly she lifted her head to look up at her dad who was waiting for her next move. Her eyes told him what he wanted, and it was just what Jae had been waiting for to be positive Minju was willing and ready for him.

For the first time, Minju and her father's lips connected. Simultaneously, Minju and Jae realized that they were kissing for the first time as more than just father and daughter. Even their lessons hadn't included this kind of intimacy. Feeling soft lips prying at each other and the electricity generated by their touch, Minju wished she'd asked him to make that a part of her lessons far sooner.

But it was different now. When Minju involuntarily darted her tongue out to her father's mouth, it was no longer pretending. As her father's hands found her sides and pulled her close, it was because he wanted only to feel her pressed tightly against him, not on some pretense that she might be learning.

Their breathing hastened and advances suddenly more daring.

"Oh dad," Minju gasped as her father kissed her neck, "I want you... so bad."

Jae continued down his daughter's neck, kissing and nibbling at her to the increasing fervor of her breath. He felt her fingers fumbling at his belt-line, obviously wanting to take off the shorts that were now constricting his erection from sticking outward toward her. It was then he realized he hadn't anticipated this moment and had stupidly forgotten to bring a rubber.

"Minju," he paused, "I didn't bring any protection for us."

Apparently, that didn't stop his daughter from unbuckling his belt because a second later it unlatched and his button followed.

"Honey we can't go any further." Jae said, feeling disappointed and so increasingly lustful for the young brunette in front of him.

"Why not daddy?" Minju asked, running her hand down over his zipper and feeling how hard he was beneath it. Jae couldn't believe how wonderful it felt and what an expert she was becoming at turning him on.

"You know why Minju, you aren't on birth control and it is very dangerous." Jae warned, feeling his eighteen-year-old continue to touch him over his shorts. "You could get pregnant very easily honey."

Minju looked up at him while her hand kept up its movement. "Uh huh," she said, shaking her head and glaring at him with her big eyes.

Jae flinched back, speechless. What did she mean? What was she confirming: that they couldn't have sex or that he could get her pregnant? She clearly didn't intend to stop what they were doing by the way she hadn't yet stopped rubbing his shaft over his shorts. She couldn't mean what he thought she did.

"I don't understand Minju, what are you saying?"

She got a firm grasp of his cock and Jae's eyes rolled, "I'm saying I know you could get me pregnant daddy."

Silence.

"And I'm saying I'm yours... I don't want to stop."

Jae had broken every promise he'd made to himself, crossed every line and he stood at the very precipice of one more. He knew he had to deny her, but every bone in his body was begging him not to. His baby girl wanted him to take her virginity, to do it right in the middle of an orchard with their family close by, and she wanted him to risk impregnating her by doing it without protection. And instead of deterring him, Jae wanted all three of those things more than ever. Hearing that Minju was his to have, Jae felt all boundaries crumbling.

"Make love to me daddy. This time for real."

"Oh God Minju," said Jae, feeling her reaching inside his pants and taking hold of him bare.

"Please daddy," she called to him as he returned to kissing her neck and shoulder and moving his hands over her wonderful sides, "ohhhh... I want you,"

His pants fell to his ankles and there was no darkness like on the previous nights to obscure what was Jae's obvious reaction to his daughter's request. Impossibly, his cock looked larger than Minju could recall all week, and the thought of having it inside her excited the eager teen to no end.

When Minju put both hands around him, it was as if the last of Jae's inhibitions left him. Immediately, Minju felt her father's hands tighten around her waist, pulling her strongly toward him. In seconds, he'd maneuvered them under the hem of her tank top. Minju breathed sharply when she felt his thumbs press into the soft spots just below her hipbones.

The way Minju writhed when he massaged around her hips and just under the waist of her shorts spurred him on. Minju looked down as her father rubbed his fingers together and suddenly her shorts were unbuttoned. This was really happening, she thought, her daddy was really going to fuck her like she'd been dreaming of.

The little brunette looked down as Jae pulled at her shorts and the zipper came undone. He was tender, attentive, and not too hasty as he pushed at the undersized jean shorts and Minju shimmied to help them off. As her little butt swayed back and forth, the shorts revealed a cute pair of cotton panties with thick black and white stripes. They were tiny, and so perfectly snug in concealing the young virgin's opening. Had Jae not desperately wanted access to what was underneath he might have been content to leave them on for him to admire.

However, both father and daughter were exhausted with pretending and 'being careful.' They'd skirted the line between responsibility, incest, teaching and lust and no there was only one thing left they wanted. So when Minju felt her father's tip prodding at the front of her panties, she wanted them off and quickly made it so.

As her bottoms hit the grass, Jae hungrily took her face in his hands and kissed her. They were electrified with desire for each other, and though Jae wanted Minju not to rush through her first time, it was hard to control her. Her tongue flicked in and out of his mouth, around his lips, and she managed to trap the head of his cock in the place between her thighs.

She was so wet he could feel it immediately. Bare, warm and so ready for him to penetrate her, there was no time to waste. When Minju wrapped her arm around her father's neck he immediately grabbed her at the waist and lifted her up.

His baby girl was so light that Jae could easily hold her in place. She wrapped her legs around his waist. Minju didn't want to say anything to slow her father down, so she kept silent but looked deep into his eyes with desire.

His tip was there, perfectly lined up at her entrance. Jae stared right back at his youngest as he lifted his hips ever so slightly, feeling her tiny lips begin to part for him. They had been here before... only a night ago. Jae had been so close to entering his little girl on the beach. Now, however, there was no condom between them and nobody to stop what happened next. Soaked with desire as she was, one little move of Minju's hips and she felt his head push in.

"Fuuuuuuuuck Daaaddy..." she gasped as he held her tight, "is this what it feels like... mnhhhh... to lose my virginity?"

"Yes baby... but a lot more can go inside." Jae was still reeling from hearing his teenager acknowledge she was losing her cherry to him, "Do you want to keep going? This might hurt you a little at first" "Mn hmmm," Minju affirmed both with her words and by lowering her hips just a bit more. "Ouuuuwww... just be gentle daddy, okay?"

How could he not be? Despite the fact that Jae had wanted to jump his beautiful daughter for longer than he cared to admit, his only desire now was to make her first time the best he possibly could. Jae's love for Minju deepened immeasurably as he helped her down, slowly, another inch onto his cock. The tiny brunette shrieked when her father's head cleared her hymen. It didn't hurt a ton, but she was glad he had done it all at once. Though he'd stopped to let her adjust after taking her virginity, she wanted immediately to continue.

"Oh god... keep going daddy," Minju begged, moaning as he was nearly halfway inside her.

Her little tunnel was tighter than he had even dreamed; Jae hoped he had the stamina to see his little daughter climax. Neither of them could be certain how long it took, but at last Minju felt her mound connect with her dad's pelvis. With an utter mixture of pleasure, pain and the stretching of her insides, Minju had never felt so full in her life.

"Mnnph... you're penis is sooo big daddy... is it all the way in now?" Minju asked, barely able to get the words out.

"Yes Minju'" her father replied, feeling her flinch when he pulled her hips even closer, "does it feel okay honey?"

Minju smiled markedly big, pressed her forehead against her father, "Yes daddy."

"What honey?" he asked, wondering why his daughter looked so happy all of the sudden.

"I'm just so glad it was you dad," she replied, glad to have told him.

"Me too Minju, and you're doing so good" Jae replied, "you ready to keep going now?"

Minju replied by shaking her head yes and giving him big, puppy-dog eyes. She bit her lip as he slowly lifted her hips and slid his cock out from inside of her, all the way to the tip. She felt immediately too empty, satisfied only after the ridge of his cockhead passed back between her lips.

Jae held his little one fast as he helped her back onto his pole. She was watching below where her father's cock was sliding slowly back into her, forehead still pressed against his. Her breath kissed his lips, so he kissed hers as they once again connected at the hips.

It was the most passion Jae had ever experienced, buried inside his daughter's previously unclaimed pussy and seeing her love every second of it. Apparently he wasn't going fast enough for his eager daughter, because next he felt her feet clamor to his hips to help them along.

She lifted up and then back down again. "Oh fuck dad," she gasped, colliding with him and then pulling up again. Already, Minju felt each stroke building her towards a climax. Only she'd never felt anything like it before. Having anything inside her, especially something as large as her father, was entirely new. She wanted more, and kept urging her hips up and down to feel her dad impale her again and again.

Now he was helping Minju by holding each of her round cheeks in his hands and lifting. Her tank top, which they had neglected to take off in their haste, was rubbing against his shirt and she definitely looked more adorable in it as he fucked her.

She wasn't an experienced lover, so some of Minju's efforts to slide her father in and out of her were clumsy and experimental. Jae decided that made the incest they were sharing even more wonderful.

"Daddy.... daddy!" She cried, "Fuck me... mnnnggghhh... just like that."

The sun shone down through the trees and kissed Jae's baby across the cheek, clamoring arms and all the way down to her tiny thighs which were flexing to keep her daddy fucking her. Jae loved holding her. They'd hugged so many times before. He'd held her close, embraced her after long business trips and taken her in his arms when she needed consoling. Jae was so happy to give his daughter, once again, exactly what she needed.

It was even more appealing to be making love to her out in the fresh air of an orchard they'd come to with the group. Knowing his wife, son, and their guests were only a short distance away, maybe even within distance to hear the cries of his daughter as his cock touched her deeply, was indescribably sexy. They must have been a real sight, Jae thought; his beautiful daughter perched on him and his bare cock entering her over and over.

"Daddy....unghh.... I feel strange," Minju warned him, "can we stop for a second?"

Jae wanted to appease her, but he'd heard his young daughter's breath quickening and felt the way her hips were rotating to try and get his tip to stimulate every millimeter of her womb. Knowing that they were both approaching a significant moment together, he couldn't just stop. So he did halt for a moment, but only to grab the cloth he'd draped on a nearby branch. He flapped it once and laid it crudely on the ground, all with the arm not wrapped around Minju, his cock still fully immersed in her tight pussy.

Minju just held on tight, enamored by the way her dad just wisped her around like it was nothing at all. When she came to rest on her back with Jae hovering over her, she felt impatient to know what would happen next.

Her curiosity was quickly answered. Jae slowly unsheathed his cock until his tip nestled just between Minju's outer lips before plunging it back inside all in one motion.

"Ouuuuuwaaahhhh... Daddy.... ohgodd..." she screamed. Jae didn't care that anyone nearby might have heard.

"Owww Daddy... it feels bigger this way!"

Jae responded by spearing her again, hips coming smoothly against hers. His tip touched her so deep he knew he'd prodded her cervix. She was tinier than his wife for certain, and the thought of his unprotected tip that deep in his fertile daughter made Jae throb inside of her.

"Oh Minju... you are perfect honey... such a good daughter." Jae assured her, continuing to fuck her steadily.

Minju blushed and squirmed as he complimented her, "I love you so much daddy...uhhh.... uhhh... I'll be good for you whenever you want."

Minju smiled bashfully, feeling affectionate with her new lover, She loved seeing her dad so lustful as he pushed the straps of her tank top over her shoulders one at a time. She watched him, lifting her neck of the soft grass and feeling his hand tug her tank top and strapless bra off of her chest.

Even lying down her teenage breasts looked incredible. Jae held one in his hand as he urged himself in and out of Minju's taut pussy. Her wetness coated him and eased each stroke, but she was too tight for him to last much longer. And feeling his warm hand on her breast and the way his penis reached her deeper than before, the pressure she'd experienced before had returned.

"Minju..." her father called. She loved hearing him say her name, "Baby... I'm going to come soon."

Minju's eyes widened. She tried to concentrate through the increasing sensation she was feeling from her dad fucking her. It took her significant effort to take her eyes off of her father's cock disappearing into her and the way her abdomen swelled each time it did.

"oh fuck...really daddy?" She asked, sounding excited and looking it when her father shook his head 'yes.'

Minju wanted to tease him, knowing he'd be worried about whether she wanted him to finish inside her or not.

"Oh dad..." she moaned, "But you don't have a condom on....uhhh... does that mean you're going to shoot all your cum inside my pussy?"

Jae could only growl upon hearing her words and it made him fuck her harder.

"I had my period a couple weeks ago... ohhhfuuuck...I think I could get pregnant really easy now daddy."

She could see the look on her dad's face. She knew it was what he wanted. Try as he might to consider stopping, Jae was caught up in the increasing pleasure of his daughter's tunnel squeezing his shaft. Jae made a feeble attempt to pull all the way out of her, but Minju was ahead of him.

"Uh uh," she denied him, wrapping her legs around his back

Her eyes stared up at him, telling him she had no intention of letting him away. Jae knew he'd soon climax and that if he did so while still immersed in his baby girl there would be no turning back. He couldn't lie to himself; as Jae thrust into his eighteen-year-old's pussy and heard her gasp and moan, he knew he wasn't going to pull out.

An image of his only daughter, the one he had loved her entire life, pregnant with his child flashed across his mind. She was so young and beautiful; but he now imagined her looking even more perfect with a belly showing she'd been impregnated by her dad. What they would do, where they would go... it didn't matter at that moment, as long as they were together.

"It's okay daddy," Minju promised him,

"But Minju, are you sure?"

"Yesss... oh daaad," she panted. Minju couldn't have been more beautiful to her dad at that moment. Rays of sun gleamed bright across her bare breasts, which shook each time their hips joined. Her face looked angelic; she scrunched her nose now that her dad had picked up the pace and she couldn't control the building pleasure any longer. "Cum in me daddy, please... I want to feel you making me pregnant."

God was his daughter so flawless, so innocent and beautiful. She really did want to be her father's forever. She wanted him to take her away and love her... make love to her as much as they possibly could. She wanted to make a baby with him and be the companion that he always deserved. It was the last thought she had as his thrusts pushed her over the edge.

"Daaaaaaad!" She howled. It was indescribably sexy to watch his little girl fumble to wrap her arms and legs around him as Jae shoved his cock into her over and over when she began to orgasm.

Minju's body froze, or at least it felt like it. Blackness washed over her eyes as she was assaulted by a surge of pleasure. In reality, her legs and arms were squeezing tight while her dad fought to withdraw a few inches and continue fucking her. Her hips were grinding into him and her body trembled as she came. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, and she never wanted it to end.

Then there was something new. Minju's pussy had added plenty of wetness to their incestuous junction in the process of her orgasm, but this felt different. She opened her eyes and saw her dad's eyes narrowed in concentration... or distraction... or whatever it was, but then she realized he was cumming inside of her. He had felt the clench of his Minju's walls upon his buried cock and been able to withhold no longer.

As Minju squirmed and gasped through her first sexual orgasm, her first time with her dad, and her first unprotected sex, she knew instantly that the warm gush flooding her insides was her father's semen.

"Oh god dad.... I can....uhhh.... I can feel it!" She couldn't believe how much fuller she felt as his cock throbbed countless times into her. She was immediately overwhelmed by another wave of sensation.

Jae had never come so hard in his life, and he buried as deeply into his young daughter as possible while he did. Jet after jet, he coated his fertile teenager's insides with his forbidden sperm. Knowing that his daughter was prime to be impregnated, that she was cumming as it was probably happening, and that his tip was still pumping out his incestuous cum right against her cervix... Jae only came harder.

When it was finally over, Jae collapsed on top of his daughter. It took her longer, but Minju eventually came to, and she knew she'd remember the feeling her spent father's comforting weight atop her for a long time. She prayed it wasn't the last time she'd experience it.

Minju also sensed his semen flooding her entire pussy, it was still warm and she could feel it attempting to work its way out because it had nowhere else to go. Minju almost giggled knowing that her father's penis was probably too big to let it out; thinking that meant it was even more likely to make her pregnant.

The sun warmed Jae's back, and his daughter his front. Her soft breasts were squeezed between them, and he could feel her chest rising and falling as she slowly regained her breath. He'd absolutely loved feeling the eighteen-year old writhe and twitch while her orgasm slowly tailed off. Now he was just happy to be able to hold her while they accepted the reality of what they had done in each other's arms.

After a few moments, Minju finally spoke:

"I love you daddy..."

Her voice sounded tentative. Jae, inquisitive, put an arm down and lifted his head up to look at her.

"...But you're really heavy!"

Jae smiled and quickly rolled to the side, snaking an arm around Minju's neck. They both shared a laugh and Jae pulled his daughter closer to him.

Suddenly Minju felt like something was missing. In the process of taking his weight off her, Jae's cock had evidently slid out of his daughter's quim and she no longer felt so full. Looking between them, Minju could see her dad,, still mostly hard, covered in her wetness which for some reason made her feel a little embarrassed. Jae's arm wrapped around her and caressing her back made that feeling subside.

Then, while they were both still looking, a white gleam appeared at the taut, bare opening of Minju's pussy. It slowly grew until an entire pool of cum had overflowed and was heading down Minju's thigh from her tiny hole.

"Oh no daddy," she said playfully, "some is getting out!"

"I think it's okay honey, I'm pretty sure there's a lot more inside you."

Saying that made Jae's cock throb, he wondered if he'd be hard for his daughter forever. The white trail of spunk that came from inside his daughter where he'd put it was the perfect culmination of the story that had begun on their first day of vacation. He knew now that he'd always wanted this. Yet, it had taken his daughter coming of age, the possibility of losing her, and her permission to do so before Jae could allow them to take their love to this level.

He wanted her to be pregnant already. Looking down at his beautiful daughter, the sheen of sweat on her face, the bunched up tank-top under her breasts and the mess they'd made below, Jae was incredibly happy. Wanting to oblige her, he placed the head of his cock under the stream of white cum that had leaked out. Scooping it up, Jae pushed his tip back against Minju's entrance and tried to return into his baby's pussy. He couldn't help also slipping his head back inside, to which Minju immediately shrieked.

"Daaaadyyyy," she whined. "that hurts!"

She was still sensitive from her first time, but she realized what he had done and smiled for him when she did.

"Just keep it there, okay dad?" Minju said as his head stayed firmly planted just past her entrance.

"Okay honey, I just wanted you not to worry that my stuff was leaking out."

"I can't believe how much is in me dad, you definitely didn't cum that much before!"

"I know honey, I guess I've just been wanting to do that for a few days."

Minju gasped dramatically, "A few days?? I thought we were only learning the last few days?"

Jae gave his daughter a knowing look and she smiled back.

"I guess this isn't what mom had in mind when she told me to "ask my dad." Minju said, holding up quotes as she repeated the words she'd heard so often.

"Umm... no, I don't think so."

Jae dared to thrust ever so slightly so his tip moved around in his daughter's opening. She quickly put a hand on his chest to stop him and showed him her wide, disapproving eyes. Jae didn't know that he'd ever be able to take advantage of such a beautiful setting and the alone time with his gorgeous teenage daughter. A part of him wanted to disobey her and fill her up again.

"Dooooon't!" she pleaded, "I promise daddy, I just need a little time and then you can fuck me again."

He still urged a few millimeters further.

"Pleaaase..." she begged, "I'll tell mom!"

"Oh you will, huh?"

"Yeah, I'll tell her that you taught me about touching," she said, remembering the night that she sat in her father's lap. She felt his cock pulse to his heartbeat, glad it was only his tip inside of her.

"...and I'll tell her you taught me how to put on a condom." Minju could feel her own body buzzing as she recalled the feeling of her father's cum coating her belly as she stroked him.

"....and how you taught me how to get pregnant..." Minju was practically panting.

"You know, I don't actually think she'd be mad if you told her any of that." Jae said, realizing that if she explained no further it would have just been the topics of conversation his wife had avoided with Minju. He could see that his daughter was talking herself into excitement, glad to know that she was as happy about it as he was.

"Well not if I told her that you taught me by getting me pregnant!" She said adorably.

"We don't know that yet Minju."

She squirmed around. Thinking about it made the teenagers whole body excited.

"We'll have to try plenty more times before you can tell her that for sure." Jae advised his daughter, who immediately beamed upon knowing that her dad had plans in store for her.

She rolled towards her dad and hugged him, bringing his lips to hers and working her hands around his big shoulders as she kissed him. It was soft, tender and full of love and acceptance of each other. Minju knew that she wasn't supposed to, but she loved her dad as so much more and she was ecstatic to be his lover and his daughter both. The way he held her, the way he kissed her, and the warmth that remained deep inside her was something she'd had her entire life from her dad. Only now, it was different. It was better.

Somewhere in the distance, Minju heard her mother call out to them.

"Minjuyyyyyyyy!" she heard, and so did her dad.

They were safe where they lay, but both knew they couldn't stay there forever. After another call from his wife, Jae helped Minju to her feet. There was nothing either of them could do to stop the white spunk from working its way down her leg, but both of them loved seeing it. Minju ran her finger up her leg and licked at it, tasting her dad's spilled cum.

Jae could only look on in amazement when she smiled after saying 'yumm," like when he'd taken her out for ice cream. His mischievous little eighteen-year-old was going to be a real handful now that he'd allowed her explore every one of her curiosities. He helped her back into her shorts and admired her tiny hips as she wiggled back into them. He got his own handful of her perky breast before fixing her shirt and bra. Jae wasn't really worried about dealing with her, just worried how he'd keep his hands off her when prying eyes were around.

"I don't wanna go back daddy," she told him, hanging on his shirt as he urged her toward the fence. Jae loved that nothing had really changed between them, and yet everything had.

"I know Minju', but we can't disappear just yet. I promise we'll figure something out but for now we have to go on like nothing happened?"

"Until you fuck me again right?" Minju said sweetly, shaking her butt into his pelvis as he helped her up the fence.

"Uh huh," Jae agreed, not being coy about grabbing her soft cheeks and urging her upward. "And I hope that's soon."

Minju checked to make sure the coast was clear and then swung her leg over, leaning down to kiss her dad on the lips before she ambled down the other side. "Me too," she replied. Jae was incredibly nervous when they met back up with the group. As he might have expected, Minju played it totally cool. She'd stopped to make sure she looked just as pretty as always, smoothed out her clothes, and wiped away a small remnant of their forbidden deed from her inner thigh. Aside from being extra cheerful, Minju didn't seem to be worried at all.

"Where on earth did you two get off to," Jae nearly laughed at the way she'd put it.

"We got tired of picking so we sat down on the hill up there," Minju responded, pointing.

Still trying to be cool for his daughter, the damned Sun-woo kid said "booo... lame!" Minju looked back at her dad and smiled anyway.

"What the heck," Eunju said, "couldn't you have told someone?"

"Sorry mom," Minju said, "I guess we just got kinda caught up,"

"Sheesh, you two..." her mother said, "you can talk for hours."

Minju wrapped her arm around her dad, wanting to scream because she was so excited about their secret.

"I guess we can, huh dad?" She asked, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes.

"You've got lots of questions Minju'" he said, hugging her with one arm, "Sorry dear, I guess we lost track of time."

"Well you didn't do a great job picking either, good thing some of us aren't lazy like you both."

And that was it. Eunju went back to talking to her friend, Sun-woo and Do-yun carried on a conversation here and there, and it appeared to Jae that Minju would do everything she could to make him nervous. Admittedly, she loved watching him fidget, knowing that nobody would guess she was walking around with her daddy's spunk inside her, working hard to find its fateful place in her womb.

Minju couldn't help herself. At dinner, she made sure to sit close to her dad. Right in the middle of him talking she placed her hand on his inner thigh. Despite his subsequent glare in her direction, she proceeded to rub her hand on him until he was fully hard.

When she was happy with the result, she moved her hand to his and passed him something. It was damp, Jae knew immediately, but a quick glance down confirmed that his daughter had not put her panties back on and now they were scrunched up in his hand. Minju excused herself from the table shortly after, leaving her dad there in agony. When she didn't return a few minutes later, his wife got a text that Minju was checking out the cider making in the building next door.

"Arghhh..." she said in frustration, "Jae, your daughter has run off again, she says down to the cider machine or something. Will you please bring her back here, the food will be here any minute."

The girl was clever, he had to give her that.

Jae practically ran the direction he'd seen Minju go, finding her out the door at the end of the bathroom hall and waving to him from behind a nearby barn structure.

As soon as he reached her, Minju grabbed her dad's shirt roughly in the front and lunged up to kiss him, swinging him around the corner of the barn. He looked around feverishly, realizing that his daughter had actually picked a very private spot.

"I couldn't wait daddy, I'm sorry," She said in between kisses.

He could only be a bystander as Minju quickly fumbled with his belt and shoved his pants down to his ankles. Again he looked around... nobody.

Minju looked so excited as she got to her knees in front of him. She'd never done it before, but Minju knew upon holding her father's hard cock to take it in her mouth. She loved how he groaned when she did it, and even more when she pushed almost half of it in. Minju choked a little when she felt his tip at the back of her mouth, amazing her father as she repeated the motion.

She licked him from his base to the tip and then sucked eagerly before circling her tongue around the sensitive skin. Jae was speechless, standing there in the beautiful setting sun, holding his daughter's head as she blew him for the first time.

Minju knew if she did well that she might make her dad shoot in her mouth, but that wasn't where she wanted it. Still in control, Minju stood up and shimmied out of her own shorts once again. Jae immediately reached out for her, wanting her as much now if not more than before. Minju tugged at her dad and then turned around over an old wooden barrel.

"Fuck me again, please daddy?" she said, looking back at him and biting her lip.

Jae was on autopilot and approached her without hesitation, His daughter gasped when his cock prodded her pussy from behind. Even after sliding an inch in, Jae knew he wouldn't last long.

"Minju, you did so good I'm going to cum already." he warned

"I know daddy...unhhh" she said, pushing her hips back so he penetrated her deeper, "I wanted to be quick....ohfuck....just shoot your sperm in me again. That's all I need."

That, Jae didn't dare question. He took hold of his daughter's tiny hips and shoved all the way into Minju's pussy, slowly, but it one long stroke. She gasped again and panted to keep her breath.

Jae put an arm around her stomach and one around her chest, pulling her upright and impaling her at the same time. Minju was surprised he lasted as long as he did, loving the way he manhandled her as took her from behind. Her own daddy, fucking her pussy that he'd already cum inside once that day... it was the most wonderful though that had so recently been only a dream.

"Oh Minju," he said, "fuck baby... you're so tight...." was all he could manage before it began again.

He grabbed tight to her hips and buried his cock deep once more. Again he shot plentiful, hot semen as deep into his teenage daughter as possible. Either it was her youth, beauty or the forbidden truth of filling his unprotected daughter with cum, but Jae knew he'd never feel the same with another again. He continued pumping into her, imagining that each pulse was the fateful one that would make Minju a mother.

Minju was, admittedly, a little disappointed knowing she wouldn't cum again that time, but when she felt her dad's cock squirting into her pussy again, she forgot about it. Minju, too, hoped that the warmth spreading inside her for the second time that day would assure her pregnancy. She ground her hips back into him, feeling him flinch as his sensitive tip touched her deeply inside.

The freshly filled teenager reached back and stroked her father's neck. "Ohmygod dad, I want you to do that to me every day!"

Before Jae could protest his daughter stood on her toes and removed him from inside her. Jae gasped and whined. Once again, cum flowed out of her as she disengaged and Minju's hand shot to try and keep it in.

"I bet I'll get pregnant now, right daddy?" The naughty look on her face was not one Jae would soon forget.

"I hope so little one, but we can keep trying anyway."

He watched in awe as his daughter quickly pulled his shorts back up and buttoned them, followed by her own.

"I think you're right," she said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him and then whispering, "after dinner I want to try being on top."

She once again left him, scampering back to the table before him. Smart girl, he thought.

"I can't keep up with this one," Jae said, sitting back down as if he was exhausted, which he was.

"Aww, sure you can daddy." Minju answered, "just keep trying."

He knew what she meant, and he fully intent ended to. Later on that night he would find her in an old t-shirt of his and nothing else, lying in her bed waiting for him. They tried again that night, more than once. No more lessons, no more condoms and soon enough they planned to have no more worries about the feelings they now shared.

By the end of the vacation, Minju and her dad lost count of how many times they made love and Jae climaxed inside his beautiful little girl. Each time, they buzzed with excitement about the forbidden act and what it might bring. Minju hoped she'd soon have the wonderful feelings her mother described of new life growing inside her. Jae pined to see his daughter's belly swelling as well, loving her beyond measure and sharing her desires completely.

"You're mine now, baby," Jae had said to Minju as they lay next to each other on the final night of the vacation. Minju kissed him and looked into his eyes intently before responding:

"I always was."

#izone smut #minju smut #gg smut #kpop smut #male reader smut #izone #minju #smut #kpop #izone minju #girl group smut #kactress smut #kactress #actress #kdrama smut #kdrama

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mocharyc · 2 months ago

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Invincible variants x reader Pt. 6✩ ‧ ₊ ˚

♡ A new variant appears?♡

✩ ‧ ₊ ˚ Broken Convergence‧ ₊ ˚

☆ WC: 12k+ [Part 6] ☆ TW: fluff ☆ Author's Note: Hi everyone. Sorry for the late update; I went to Knotts Berry Farm and got hella sick. People really need the decency to cover up when coughing (￣へ￣）Anyway, I wrote this chapter with a fever, lol, I hope y'all like it! ––––––––––––––

Omni had only a split second to react. His enhanced senses detected the threat before the sound reached his ears—a rush of air, the crack of wood splintering, and the unmistakable scent of rage. The muscles beneath his red and white suit tensed as years of combat training took over, his jawline hardening with determination.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKING BASTARD OMNI—!"

In one fluid motion, Omni slipped his mask back over his eyes, concealing the vulnerability he'd shown only to Y/N moments before. The black lenses obscured the conflict in his blue eyes as he covered her body with his own. His massive frame enveloped her completely, shielding her from the incoming assault. The mattress springs groaned in protest as he shifted his weight, his arms creating a protective cage around her smaller form.

Mohawk Mark burst through the doorway, the wooden frame exploding into splinters that scattered across the cabin floor like deadly confetti.

His blue and black suit was torn in places, smeared with dirt and blood—evidence of the destruction he'd been wreaking across the planet. His signature mohawk was disheveled, strands of dark hair falling across his forehead like jagged shadows. His eyes blazed with unrestrained fury, pupils constricted to pinpoints as he caught sight of Omni hovering protectively over Y/N.

Mohawk's lips pulled back in a snarl, revealing teeth clenched so tightly that a vein pulsed visibly at his temple. The purple-blue line throbbed beneath his skin in time with his racing heartbeat, a visual indicator of his barely contained rage.

"I KNEW IT!" he roared, spittle flying from his mouth. The veins in his neck stood out prominently, his face flushed dark with rage until it matched the crimson of his blood-splattered suit.

"Sneaking off to have her all to yourself!"

He launched himself at Omni, his body becoming a blur of motion. His fist connected with Omni's forearm as the red-suited variant blocked the attack with mathematical precision. The impact sent shockwaves through the cabin, rattling the remaining windows and knocking dust from the ceiling beams. The sound was like a thunderclap contained within the small space, reverberating off the walls and assaulting Y/N's ears.

Despite Omni's protection, Y/N felt the vibration of the impact jolt through her body. Mohawk's knee drove into her abdomen as he collided with Omni, reopening the barely-healed wound in her torso. Her vision exploded with white-hot pain, a strangled gasp escaping her lips as fresh blood soaked through her bandages. The warmth of it against her skin was instant and alarming, a stark contrast to the chill that began to spread through her limbs.

Mohawk's momentum carried both him and Omni through the opposite wall, their bodies tearing through the aged wood like it was paper. Splinters and debris showered the forest floor as they tumbled outside, uprooting trees as they grappled, each impact reverberating through the ground like thunder.

Y/N curled into herself, clutching her reopened wound. Crimson seeped between her fingers, warm and sticky against her skin. The copper scent of her own blood filled her nostrils, making her stomach twist with nausea. Her breath came in short, pained gasps as she tried to focus through the haze of agony. Beads of cold sweat formed on her forehead as her face contorted with pain, her brows drawing together and lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line.

"Damn it," she hissed through gritted teeth, her pupils dilated with shock. The wound from Prisoner's rusted pipe strike had never fully healed, and No-Mask's hurried medical work hadn't been enough to prevent infection.

As a man-made Viltrumite, she lacked the immunity to disease that true Viltrumites possessed. The infection had been festering beneath her skin, weakening her from within. She could feel it now—the unnatural heat radiating from her wound, the subtle but persistent throbbing that extended beyond the immediate injury.

The cabin creaked ominously around her, the structural integrity compromised by the variants' violent exit. A section of the roof had already partially collapsed, sending dust and debris raining down onto the bed. Y/N's eyes darted around the deteriorating structure, fear flickering across her features as survival instincts finally kicked in.

Outside, the battle intensified. Mohawk pounded his fist into the ground where Omni had been a millisecond before, the impact creating a crater six feet wide. The earth itself seemed to scream in protest, fracturing and buckling under the force of his rage.

"She's not yours!" Mohawk bellowed, throwing a punch that connected with Omni's jaw. The sound was like thunder, the shockwave rattling what remained of the cabin's windows. His eyes were wild, pupils constricted to pinpoints, lips pulled back in a snarl that revealed clenched teeth. A thin line of saliva stretched between his upper and lower lip as he shouted, his rage turning him feral. "None of us get to have her if all of us can't!"

Omni absorbed the blow, head snapping to the side before he recovered, his movements calculated and precise despite the fury of Mohawk's attack. Unlike his opponent, Omni's face remained a mask of calm, though the tension in his jaw betrayed his anger. A thin trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth, the only evidence that Mohawk's blow had landed. He wiped it away with mathematical precision, not a wasted movement in sight.

"You don't understand what's happening," Omni stated, his voice level despite the situation. He dodged another punch, the air whistling as Mohawk's fist passed inches from his face. His body moved with fluid grace, each dodge and counter-strike executed with perfect efficiency. "She needed protection—"

"Protection?!" Mohawk laughed, the sound hollow and manic as he grabbed a nearby tree, uprooting it with terrifying ease. Soil and roots dangled from the massive trunk as he hefted it like a bat. Muscles bulged beneath his torn suit, veins standing out in stark relief against his skin. His eyes glittered with cruel amusement. "Is that what you call fucking her while she's injured? Some protection!"

Y/N felt heat rush to her face at Mohawk's crude accusation, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and indignation. The cabin creaked ominously around her, the structural integrity compromised by the variants' violent exit. Dust and debris rained down from the ceiling, a section of which had already partially collapsed.

Something primal stirred within her—self-preservation that had lain dormant under the collar's suppression. With desperate concentration, she focused on the power that had been denied her for so long. The sensation was like electricity coursing through her veins, uncomfortable yet exhilarating. Her muscles trembled with the effort, her face contorting as she pushed against her limitations, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched.

The energy within her built slowly at first, then with increasing speed—a tingling at her core that spread outward to her limbs. It was like rediscovering a part of herself that had been amputated, painful in its return yet undeniably right. Her skin prickled with goosebumps, fine hairs standing on end as power surged through her.

With a strained grunt, Y/N launched herself toward the hole Omni and Mohawk had created. Her flight was wobbly, unpracticed—she ricocheted off the remaining wall, crying out as the impact sent fresh waves of pain through her torso. Blood trickled from the reopened wound, drops falling like crimson rain to the ruined cabin below as she corrected her trajectory and burst through the opening just as the cabin's roof collapsed with a deafening crash.

Dust and debris billowed outward, enveloping her in a cloud of particles that stung her eyes and choked her lungs. She coughed violently, each spasm sending darts of pain through her reopened wound. Her flight faltered, her concentration wavering as she struggled to stay airborne.

Outside, the battle intensified. Mohawk and Omni clashed in midair, the sound of their collisions echoing like cannon fire. Where Mohawk fought with wild, erratic movements fueled by emotional rage, Omni moved with precision, each strike calculated for maximum effect. Trees splintered and fell as they used the forest as their battleground, neither willing to yield.

"JUST FUCKING DIE!! She's MINE!" Mohawk roared, his voice cracking with emotion. His eyes were wild and unfocused, the veins in his forehead prominent as he drove his fist toward Omni's face. Sweat beaded on his brow, flying off in droplets with each violent movement. His mohawk had become completely disheveled, hanging limply to one side. "I found her first!"

Omni deflected the blow with efficiency, his expression composed despite the fury blazing behind his mask. His jawline remained tense, only the slight flare of his nostrils betraying his emotional state as he wiped blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. Every movement was a study in controlled power, not a single motion wasted.

"Your claim is irrelevant," Omni replied, his voice cold and even. His eyes narrowed behind his mask, assessing Mohawk's weaknesses with clinical precision. Each word was delivered with perfect speech as if he were discussing a scientific theory rather than fighting for the possession of a woman. "You're too volatile, too unpredictable. You'll get her killed."

Y/N hovered uncertainly above the destruction, her limbs heavy and uncooperative as she struggled to maintain altitude. The forest below was being systematically destroyed, a mirror of the greater devastation they'd been inflicting on the planet before she had entered their lives. Massive trees lay uprooted, their ancient trunks splintered like matchsticks. Craters scarred the earth where superhuman blows had connected, the once-lush landscape now resembling a war zone.

"Enjoying the fight, my little warrior?" a silky voice whispered in her ear.

The whispered words caressed her ear, warm breath tickling her neck. Y/N flinched violently, her concentration breaking as she faltered in the air. The almost imperceptible scent of expensive cologne mixed with something darker, more primal, invaded her nostrils. Her stomach lurched as she began to fall—only to be caught by strong arms that pulled her firmly against a solid chest.

Sinister's hold was both gentle and possessive, his yellow and black suit vibrant against the blue sky. His lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes—eyes that burned with an intensity that made her breath catch. The scent of sulfur and something darker, more primal, clung to him as he pressed his nose against the curve of her neck, inhaling deeply like a predator committing its prey's scent to memory. His breath was hot against her skin, raising goosebumps despite the fever burning through her.

His entire body stiffened, the smile freezing on his face. When he pulled back to look at her, his expression had transformed into something dangerous, the mask of charm slipping to reveal the predator beneath. His pupils dilated, nearly swallowing the iris as his nostrils flared, drinking in her scent with animal intensity.

"Why does Omni's scent cover you so completely?" he asked, his voice deceptively soft. His fingers dug into her arms, not enough to bruise but enough to demonstrate the barely leashed strength he possessed. The veins in his neck stood out prominently as he struggled to control his reaction, pulsing visibly beneath his skin.

"He was watching you… What exactly happened between you two in that cabin?"

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but Sinister's grip shifted, one hand moving to cup her face. His thumb and forefinger pressed against her cheeks, squeezing until her lips puckered slightly. A drop of blood welled at the corner of her mouth where her split lip reopened, the metallic taste coating her tongue. His touch was paradoxically gentle despite the power behind it, his fingers warm against her fever-chilled skin.

"Why him?" Sinister whispered, his face close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath. Something vulnerable flashed in his eyes, a momentary glimpse of raw pain before it was swallowed by possessive fury. The muscles in his jaw worked beneath his skin, tension radiating from his body.

"Why not me? I would have protected you just as fiercely. I would have worshipped you more thoroughly."

His thumb brushed across her bottom lip, wiping away the blood. The tenderness of the gesture contrasted sharply with the tension radiating from his body. His pupils dilated as he stared at the smear of crimson on his glove, his breathing becoming more ragged. He brought the blood-stained finger to his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste the crimson smear. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, savoring the metallic taste of her. When they opened again, they were darker, hungrier.

"Release her, Sinister."

The commanding voice cut through the tension like a knife. Viltrumite Mark hovered several feet away, his pristine white uniform a stark contrast against the smoky sky. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, his face a mask of disapproval, eyes cold with barely restrained anger. Unlike the others, Viltrumite Mark carried himself with an almost regal bearing—shoulders squared, chin raised, every inch of him radiating authority.

"This doesn't concern you, old man," Sinister snarled.

His grip on Y/N remained unyielding, fingers pressing into the soft fabric of her suit where it clung to her fever-dampened skin. The heat of his body radiated through the material, creating a cocoon of warmth that simultaneously comforted and alarmed her. His arm snaked possessively around her waist, resting just below her wound. The subtle pressure sent lightning bolts of pain through her abdomen, yet there was something intimately protective in the way he held her—like she was something precious he'd lost and miraculously found again.

Viltrumite Mark's expression hardened, the muscles in his jaw flexing beneath his skin like steel cables being pulled taut. Afternoon sunlight caught in his eyes, illuminating the amber flecks hidden within the depths of brown, giving them an almost supernatural glow. A subtle twitch appeared at the corner of his right eye—the only visible indication of his growing anger.

"Everything concerning her involves all of us," he stated, his voice dropping an octave, the words vibrating with barely restrained fury.

He moved closer, each step measured and precise, the pristine white of his uniform a stark contrast to the destruction surrounding them. The devastated forest stretched like a wound across the landscape, with uprooted trees, and shattered earth testament to the variants' earlier battle. The distant smoke of burning cities hung on the horizon, a grim reminder of the chaos they had unleashed upon this world.

"You will release her. Now." The command hung in the air, heavy with authority.

"Or what?" Sinister's lips stretched into a smile that was all teeth, gleaming white against his tanned skin.

His eyes never left Viltrumite Mark's face, challenge radiating from his posture—from the defiant tilt of his chin to the ready tension in his shoulders. His body coiled like a spring, prepared for conflict, fingers digging minutely deeper into Y/N's flesh. The small indentations would surely leave bruises, and violet shadows to mark his possession.

"You'll fight me? Go ahead," he taunted, his breath hot against Y/N's ear, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. "But remember who bleeds if I drop her."

"Stop it," Y/N said, her voice stronger than she expected.

She pressed her palms against Sinister's chest, creating a small space between them. The firm muscle beneath her fingers tensed at her touch, his heartbeat pounding against her palms like a war drum. Her eyes flashed with determination despite the pain etched into the lines of her face, fever making her skin glow almost luminescent in the filtered sunlight that pierced through the swirling dust.

"I'm not a prize to be fought over," she declared, each word precise and cutting.

Both variants looked at her with surprise, clearly not expecting resistance from her in her weakened state. A bead of sweat traced its way down her temple, a testament to the infection raging through her system, yet her gaze remained steady and defiant.

Viltrumite Mark recovered first, his expression softening fractionally. The harsh lines around his mouth relaxed, though the tension in his powerful frame remained. His posture shifted almost imperceptibly, becoming less threatening while still maintaining his authority—a predator choosing to retract its claws, but only momentarily.

"Of course not," he agreed, inclining his head slightly. The gesture was almost courtly, a curious formality amidst the apocalyptic landscape. "You are far more valuable than any prize. Which is precisely why you should not be manhandled by this—" his lip curled with distaste, "—degenerate."

Sinister's laughter erupted, sharp and brittle like breaking glass. It bounced off the ruined landscape, echoing in the unnatural silence that had fallen over the devastated forest.

"Such hypocrisy!" he spat, the words dripping with contempt. "You fucking smell her too, don't you?"

He leaned in closer to Y/N, his nose brushing against the curve of her neck, inhaling deeply. The intimate gesture was performed with deliberate provocation, his eyes remaining fixed on Viltrumite Mark, gleaming with malicious amusement.

His lips, warm and soft, grazed her pulse point—not quite a kiss, but something more possessive, more primal. Y/N couldn't suppress the involuntary shudder that rippled through her body, her traitorous nerves responding to his touch despite her better judgment.

"Tell me, old man," Sinister continued, his voice dropping to a husky murmur that seemed to caress her skin, "does it burn you up inside knowing he got to her first? That she chose that cold, calculating bastard over the rest of us?"

Viltrumite Mark's nostrils flared as he took in the scene, his enhanced senses confirming what Sinister had said. The scent of another variant on Y/N's skin was unmistakable—the unique pheromonal signature of Omni lingering on her like an invisible brand. His expression hardened, the lines around his mouth deepening as his jaw clenched so tightly a muscle jumped in his cheek.

The white of his uniform seemed to glow in the afternoon light, immaculate despite the chaos around him—a visual representation of his attempt to maintain control, to rise above the base instincts that drove the other variants.

"What have you done?" he demanded, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. His gaze fixed on Sinister, misinterpreting the situation. His hands curled into fists at his sides, the leather of his gloves creaking with the tension. "You think you can claim her? Mark her with your scent like some animal?"

Sinister's lips pulled back in a sneer, his arms tightening protectively around Y/N. For all his antagonism, there was something genuinely defensive in the way he held her now as if shielding her from judgment.

"Are you blind? I just fucking told you it wasn't me," he spat, his voice dripping with disdain. The vein in his temple pulsed visibly with each heartbeat, his anger a living thing beneath his skin. "It was Omni. The so-called perfect, logical Mark couldn't keep his hands to himself."

Viltrumite's eyes widened slightly, then narrowed to slits. His carefully maintained composure cracked, revealing a glimpse of the fury beneath. The perfect stillness of his body was more threatening than any movement could have been.

"Liar," he snarled, launching himself at Sinister with blinding speed.

Sinister released Y/N just before impact, sending her tumbling through the air as he met Viltrumite Mark's charge. The collision sent shockwaves through the atmosphere, the sound like a thunderclap as the two variants grappled midair. Their bodies moved so quickly they became blurs of yellow, black, and white, punctuated by the explosive sounds of their blows connecting.

Y/N struggled to stabilize herself, her limbs heavy and uncooperative. The infection was spreading rapidly, sapping her strength with each passing moment. Her vision blurred, the world tilting dangerously around her. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her skin flushed with fever despite the chill in the air. The edges of her sight darkened, threatening unconsciousness as her body fought the invasive infection.

Below, the battle had escalated. Omni and Mohawk had noticed the new conflict and were now involved in a four-way brawl that tore through what remained of the forest like a tornado. Trees snapped like toothpicks under the force of their blows, the earth itself cratering with each impact. The air vibrated with the concussive force of their combat, dust and debris swirling in chaotic patterns around the fighting variants.

Most of the forest had been uprooted, leaving a desolate wasteland punctuated by splintered stumps and massive trees embedded in the earth like javelins. Boulders had been pulverized into dust, the very ground scarred and cratered by their supernatural strength. The destruction was systematic and complete—a microcosm of what they had been doing to the entire planet.

Y/N watched in horror as the variants tried to tear each other apart. All because of her. All because each believed she belonged to them alone. Her heart raced, pounding against her ribcage as if trying to escape. The stitches in her side pulled with each labored breath, blood still seeping through the bandages to stain her clothing.

"Stop!" she cried, her voice lost in the cacophony of destruction. Her face contorted with desperation, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "Please, stop!"

Mohawk, his face twisted in a feral snarl, ripped a massive tree from the ground and hurled it at Omni. The red-suited variant easily dodged, the improvised projectile sailing past him toward Sinister and Viltrumite.

Both variants moved in unison, avoiding the missile without breaking their combat rhythm. Viltrumite punched the tree as it passed, splitting it in half. One section continued its trajectory, spinning wildly through the air.

Directly toward Y/N.

Under normal circumstances, she would have easily evaded the danger. But weakened by infection, disoriented by blood loss, and out of practice with her powers, Y/N found herself frozen in place. Her muscles locked, her mind blank with sudden panic, eyes wide with terror. The fever clouding her thoughts slowed her reactions to a crawl, leaving her hovering helplessly in the path of destruction.

The massive tree trunk hurtled toward her, and she couldn't move.

Time seemed to slow. Y/N watched the projectile approach, oddly detached from the reality of her impending doom. She could see the rough texture of the bark, and count the rings in the exposed wood where it had been torn from the earth. She could make out individual leaves still clinging to its branches, trembling in the disturbed air. She could hear the whistle of air being displaced as it approached, feel the subtle change in pressure against her skin.

"NO!" The cry came from multiple throats at once, a chorus of horror as all four variants realized her peril simultaneously.

They moved as one, abandoning their fights to converge on Y/N. Four blurs—red and white, blue and black, yellow and black, pure white—streaked through the air, racing against the projectile threatening to end her life.

Omni reached her first, his arm wrapping around her waist to pull her aside. His body was solid and warm against hers, his grip secure yet careful to avoid her injury.

The scent of him—clean, masculine, with undertones of sandalwood—enveloped her, familiar from the night before together. For a moment, despite the danger, her body responded to his proximity, remembering the gentle yet passionate way he had touched her in the cabin.

Sinister appeared a fraction of a second later, his body positioned to shield her from impact. His back pressed against her front, creating a protective sandwich with Omni behind her. The heat of his body seeped through her suit, his powerful back muscles tensing as he prepared to take the brunt of the impact. There was something achingly vulnerable in his willingness to use his body as a shield for her—this man who had helped destroy her world.

Viltrumite Mark and Mohawk arrived in the same instant, each grabbing part of the tree trunk, their combined strength bringing it to an abrupt halt mere inches from where Y/N now hovered in Omni's protective embrace. The wood splintered under their grip, sap oozing from the fresh breaks like amber tears.

The sudden silence was deafening after the chaos of battle. All four variants were breathing heavily, not from exertion but from fear—fear for her safety. Their eyes were wide, pupils dilated, faces drained of color at how close they had come to losing her again.

Y/N stared at the tree trunk still held in Viltrumite Mark and Mohawk's grip, her heart hammering against her ribs. The blood drained from her face as shock set in, leaving her pale and trembling, her lips bloodless and parted in silent terror.

For a moment, she couldn't process how close she'd come to death. Her mind struggled to reconcile the violence around her with the protective circle now forming.

A hot flush spread across her cheeks as she realized the intensity of their gazes. Each variant looked at her with fierce protectiveness—Omni's eyes burned with determination behind his mask, his jaw set tight; Mohawk's wild gaze was tempered with genuine fear, his usual sneer replaced with concern; Sinister's face showed naked possessiveness, his lips slightly parted and breath ragged; and Viltrumite Mark's regal features were softened by relief, his eyes reflecting a pain born from past loss.

Omni's arm tightened around her waist, careful to avoid her injury. "Are you alright?" he murmured in her ear, his voice low and urgent as his hot breath fanned over one side of her face.

Despite the mask covering his eyes, she could see the concern etched into every line of his face—the tight set of his jaw, the slight furrow between his brows, the tension around his mouth. For once, his voice held a tremor of emotion, breaking through his usually perfect control. The hand at her waist moved in a small circle, a subtle, unconscious caress that sent warmth blooming through her despite her weakened state.

"I—yes," she managed, though her voice shook as badly as her limbs. The adrenaline was fading, leaving her weak and disoriented. Blood continued to seep through her bandages, the crimson stain spreading wider across the fabric. The world spun around her, fever and blood loss taking their toll. She leaned heavily against Omni, no longer able to support her own weight.

Mohawk and Viltrumite Mark discarded the tree trunk, letting it fall to the devastated landscape below with a thunderous crash. The four variants formed a protective circle around Y/N, their previous animosity temporarily forgotten in the wake of her near-miss. Their bodies created a wall between her and the world, a barrier made of flesh and bone and superhuman power.

Y/N looked at each of them in turn, seeing the intensity in their eyes, the tension in their faces, and the mix of possessiveness and genuine concern that animated their features. It was overwhelming, this circle of identical yet different men, all focused solely on her. Each face was the same, yet each expression was unique—Omni's controlled precision, Mohawk's volatile emotion, Sinister's predatory charm, Viltrumite Mark's regal authority.

"This is ridiculous," she said, her voice steadier now despite the blood loss making her light-headed. Her eyes flashed with defiance, fever giving them an unnatural brightness. "You're fighting over me like I'm some... some trophy, but none of you bothered to ask what I want."

The variants exchanged glances, a mixture of guilt and stubbornness on their faces. The tension between them was palpable, a living thing that crackled in the air like electricity. For a moment, no one spoke, the only sound was the distant crash of falling trees damaged in their battle.

Mohawk was the first to break the silence, a bark of laughter escaping his throat. The sound was harsh and abrupt, startling against the sudden quiet. His blue and black suit was torn in places, revealing tanned skin beneath. Dust and debris clung to his signature mohawk, dulling its usual sharp silhouette.

"Well, sleeping beauty, what do you want?" he asked, cocking his head to one side, his mohawk flopping slightly with the movement.

There was genuine curiosity beneath his usual bravado, his brown eyes searching her face intently. A drop of blood trickled from a cut above his eyebrow, tracing a path down his temple like a crimson tear. His gaze flicked briefly to Omni's arm still wrapped around her waist, a scowl darkening his features.

"Because from where I'm standing, it looks like Omni already staked his claim." The accusation hung in the air, loaded with resentment and jealousy.

Y/N felt heat rise to her cheeks, painfully aware of how she must appear to them—Omni's scent on her skin, her lips still swollen from his kisses, her body cradled protectively against his. She felt Omni's grip tighten almost imperceptibly around her waist, a silent claim that contradicted his seemingly logical demeanor. His thumb moved in a small, soothing circle against her side, the gesture intimate and possessive.

"I don't belong to anyone," she stated firmly, though her voice lacked some conviction as she remained in Omni's embrace. Her chin lifted defiantly, eyes flashing with feverish intensity. "Not the GDA, not Cecil, and not..." she hesitated, her eyes moving from one variant to the next, lingering on each identical yet distinct face, "...not any of you."

They all pause, as the air around them seems to wobble, particles shifting in an unnatural pattern before turning to normal…

She sighed ignoring it as a bitter laugh escaped her lips. The sound was hollow, edged with pain and frustration. "Without the collar, I don't serve a purpose for any of you. I'm not a weapon, not a tool to be used and discarded." The words burned in her throat, raw with emotion. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, knuckles white with tension.

Viltrumite Mark's expression softened almost imperceptibly. The hard lines around his mouth relaxed, his eyes warming with something akin to tenderness. The white of his uniform caught the late afternoon light, giving him an almost angelic appearance that belied the destruction he had helped cause.

"You misunderstand," he said, his voice gentler than she had ever heard it.

"We used the collar as just another means for us convincing ourselves there was a logical approach to keeping you alive. Now without it, our claim still stands,” he hums softly.

“We don't seek to own you or use you. We seek to cherish you." A flicker of vulnerability crossed his usually stoic face, a glimpse of the man beneath the regal exterior. "Each of us lost you once. We cannot bear to lose you again."

His words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Y/N's eyes widened slightly, the sincerity in his voice striking something deep within her. Before she could respond, another voice cut through the moment.

"Can't we all just have her?" The question came from behind them, unexpected and startling.

All heads turned to see No-Mask hovering several yards away, his expression unusually thoughtful. Unlike the others, his face was still fully visible, allowing Y/N to see the earnestness in his eyes, the slight uncertainty in the set of his mouth. His face was somehow softer, more open than the others, lacking the hardened edge that years of wearing a mask had given them.

Without the barrier of a mask, his emotions were laid bare—confusion, desire, hope all visible in his expressive features. The late afternoon sun gilded his features, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, the fullness of his lips, the depths of his unguarded eyes. There was something disarmingly honest about him that made Y/N's heart flutter despite her condition.

"What did you just say?" Sinister's voice was dangerously soft as he regarded No-Mask. His body tensed, readying for another potential fight, the muscle in his jaw jumping with tension.

"I mean, she's clearly important to all of us," No-Mask continued, his expression thoughtful. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that was both nervous and thoughtful.

"Fighting over her is just going to get her killed." His eyes darted to Y/N's wound, concern evident in his gaze. "Look at her—she's already suffering because of our conflict."

Another figure appeared beside him, drifting lazily through the air. Prisoner Mark, his burned face twisted in a permanent sneer, his eyes roving over Y/N's body with unconcealed interest. The scar tissue pulled his lips into an asymmetrical grimace that might have been a smile. Light glinted off the metal restraints still attached to his wrists, remnants of his imprisonment that he wore like trophies.

"I mean, she's got three holes," he drawled, his voice rough and gravelly from smoke damage.

"But we can make it work." His tongue darted out to wet his lips, the movement slow and deliberate, eyes never leaving Y/N's body. The crude suggestion hung in the air, made all the more disturbing by his casual delivery.

Disgust and revulsion flooded through Y/N, her stomach churning with nausea, her upper lip curling in distaste. Yet beneath her revulsion, there was something else—a flutter of confused interest as no one seemed to disagree with Prisoner's statement. The silence from the others was deafening, their lack of objection more telling than any words could have been.

She looked up at Omni, his hands still loosely around her waist. His face betrayed nothing, but the tension in his body told a different story. The muscles beneath his suit were coiled tight, his breathing carefully controlled. She thought she had built a connection with him in the cabin during their half-night together. She thought he saw her differently, as more than just a replacement for the Y/N he had lost. But now, surrounded by these men who all wore the same face, she wasn't sure anymore.

The realization hit her like a physical blow: Why were all these men so obsessed with her? Was it truly her they wanted, or the memory of the women they had lost? Was she nothing more than a ghost to them, a shadow of women long dead?

She needed to get away. Away from these men who looked at her like she was a prize to be won, a possession to be claimed. Away from the conflicting emotions they stirred within her—the disgust and the attraction, the fear and the longing.

With a desperate surge of strength, Y/N pushed Omni away and fled, pushing her weakened body to its limits as she shot through the air. The wind whipped past her face, cooling the fever heat of her skin. Below, the forest blurred into a sea of green, the destruction caused by the variants' battle a dark scar across the landscape.

Freedom was within her grasp. She could escape, could find somewhere to hide until she'd recovered enough to—

Strong hands closed around her waist, halting her flight so suddenly that the air was knocked from her lungs. Looking back, she found herself staring into Mohawk's face, his expression unexpectedly gentle despite the harsh lines etched around his mouth. The setting sun backlit his signature mohawk, creating a halo effect that softened his typically menacing appearance. Tiny beads of sweat glistened along his temples, catching the golden light. His jaw—usually set in a perpetual sneer—had relaxed, revealing a vulnerability she hadn't seen before.

"You're not going anywhere," he said, his voice firm but gentle. His hands were steady on her waist, his grip secure without being painful. "Not in your condition."

Unlike the other variants, Mohawk wore his emotions openly on his face. The harsh lines around his mouth had softened, and his perpetually furrowed brow had relaxed. His eyes—those deep brown pools flecked with amber when caught in the right light—held a desperate intensity that made her breath catch. Behind the typical hardness of his expression lurked something raw and unguarded. When he looked at her, the snarky mask slipped, revealing not just desire but a terrifying depth of obsession.

Even now, as he held her suspended in the air, his thumbs absently traced small circles against her sides. The sensation sent shivers across her fevered skin, conflicting emotions of comfort and unease battling within her.

"Let me go," Y/N demanded, her voice weaker than she intended. She struggled against his hold, but her strength was fading rapidly. The infection was spreading, her temperature rising dangerously. Perspiration beaded on her forehead, trailing down her temples in rivulets that caught the dying sunlight like diamond tracks. Her skin flushed an alarming crimson, hot to the touch and stretched taut across her cheekbones. "I don't belong to any of you!"

"No, you don't," Mohawk agreed, surprising her. His voice cracked slightly, betraying his emotional state. The hand not supporting her waist came up to brush a sweat-soaked strand of hair from her forehead. His calloused fingers felt blessedly cool against her burning skin.

"But you need help. You're dying, Y/N. You are not a Viltrumite like the rest of us... you are man-made." His eyes dropped to her wound, where fresh blood was seeping through the bandages, the crimson stain spreading in a grotesque blooming pattern across the fabric. The metallic scent of her blood hung in the air between them, sharp and alarming. "Your body can't fight this infection without help."

The blunt assessment stopped her struggles. She knew he was right—could feel her body failing, the infection burning through her defenses like wildfire. Without proper medical care, she wouldn't survive much longer. The fever was clouding her thoughts, making her limbs heavy and uncooperative. Her vision blurred at the edges, reality wavering like heat rising from desert sand.

"Why do you care?" she asked, her voice small and vulnerable. She searched his face, looking for deceit, for hidden motives. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across his features, highlighting the tension around his eyes, the tiny scar at his jawline she hadn't noticed before. A muscle jumped erratically beneath the skin of his cheek, betraying his carefully controlled emotions.

"I'm not your Y/N. I'm not any of your Y/Ns." Her voice cracked on the last word, raw emotion breaking through. "Why can't any of you just see me for ME?!"

Mohawk's expression softened, a sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as his eyebrows drew together in an expression of heartbreaking honesty. "No, you're not," he acknowledged.

His eyes revealed everything he couldn't say. As she looked into their brown depths, she saw beyond the anger and violence that defined him—saw the obsession simmering beneath.

Mohawk wasn't just attracted to her; he was consumed by her, possessed by her very existence in a way that bordered on terrifying. There was love there, yes, but twisted and desperate, born from loss and madness.

"But you're still Y/N. A different version, perhaps, but still the woman we all loved—in our own ways, in our own worlds." He faltered, struggling with words that didn't come easily to him. "Fuck it, I can't... Fuck," he mumbled, his composure cracking further.

His hands came up to her face, moving slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal. Y/N glared at him but remained still, allowing his touch. His fingertips were surprisingly gentle against her fevered skin, calloused thumbs brushing across her cheekbones with a tenderness that seemed out of place amidst the destruction surrounding them.

The physical contrast was striking—his massive hands, capable of ripping trees from the earth and punching through concrete, now cradling her face as if she were made of spun glass. She could see the dirt embedded beneath his fingernails, the scrapes across his knuckles from the earlier battle, the slight tremor that betrayed his emotional state. Each point where his skin touched hers became an anchor in her fever-hazed world, electric and alive.

Mohawk's eyes revealed everything he couldn't say. She could see the microscopic dilation of his pupils as they fixed on her face, the slight moisture gathering at the corners, the way the afternoon light caught the amber flecks within the deep brown. Tiny blood vessels mapped the whites of his eyes, evidence of exhaustion and stress. His lashes—longer than she'd noticed before—cast faint shadows on his cheeks when he blinked.

He traced the contours of her face as if memorizing them, his fingers trembling almost imperceptibly—like he was touching a ghost he'd never expected to see again. His thumb brushed over her lower lip, the touch feather-light yet sending shockwaves through her system.

The pad of his thumb was rough, calloused from years of violence, yet his touch was exquisitely gentle.

"Please... fucking please, I waited so long..." he whispered, his voice breaking with need, quivering with a vulnerability that the cocky Mohawk would never normally allow anyone to hear.

His eyes dropped to her lips, darkening with desire, his breath coming faster, stirring the loose strands of hair around her face. "Let me."

“I know Omni got to kiss you first... to hold you first... but I need this more than I've ever needed anything…” His expression spoke volumes, raw emotion written across features usually set in arrogant lines. The late afternoon sun caught in his eyes, illuminating the desperate yearning there—a silent plea that went beyond mere desire.

Despite everything—her anger, her confusion, her illness—Y/N found herself nodding, a barely perceptible movement. Mohawk leaned forward slowly, giving her time to change her mind. His lips brushed against hers, gentle and questioning at first, then with growing hunger as she didn't pull away.

He growled against her lips, a primal sound that vibrated through her core. He spoke against her lips. At this moment, nothing else existed—not the destruction below, not the other variants flying towards them, watching, not even the infection ravaging her body. There was only this connection, this single point where past and present converged.

The kiss deepened, his lips warm and insistent against hers. His hand slid to the nape of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair as he drew her closer. The slight scratch of his stubble against her skin added to the sensory overload, a delicious friction that contrasted with the surprising softness of his lips. Mohawk kissed with none of his usual aggression, instead with a desperate yearning that spoke of years of loneliness.

Y/N's eyes fluttered open briefly during the kiss, catching glimpses of his expression—eyes closed in concentration, brow relaxed, the harsh lines of his face softened by something akin to peace. When his eyes opened to meet hers, she saw naked adoration in them, dreamy and unfocused with desire. His lips, usually set in a hard line or cruel smirk, were soft against hers, moving with a gentleness that belied his brutal nature.

Despite his obvious hunger, he held himself in check, fighting the urge to deepen the kiss further, to run his hands over her body. She could feel the restraint in the tension of his muscles, in the careful placement of his hands—one at her waist, one at her nape, both trembling slightly with the effort not to crush her against him.

Y/N found herself responding, her hands coming up to rest against his chest, feeling the thunderous beating of his heart beneath her palms. The solid warmth of him was like an anchor in a storm, steadying her as fever and desire made her head spin. His suit was damp with sweat and smooth against her fingertips, the powerful muscles beneath twitching at her touch. For a moment, the world around them faded—the destruction, the other variants, her illness—all of it receding as she lost herself in the passionate fire of his kiss.

He gently pulled her flush against him, a soft gasp escaping her as their bodies connected. The height difference between them meant that his evident arousal pressed against her stomach rather than her hips, the prominence of his bulge impossible to ignore even through his full-body suit. Glancing down briefly, she could see where the fabric stretched taut, a small dark stain spreading at the tip where his excitement had overcome even the containment of his uniform.

His response to her was primal and unashamed, his body reacting with an honesty his words couldn't match. Each small sound she made—each gasp and sigh—elicited a corresponding groan from him, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and into her own. He mumbled incoherently against her lips, soft words meant only for her, desperate professions intermingled with curses.

"Oh god," he whispered against her mouth, the words half prayer, half profanity.

The moment was shattered by a growl of rage.

Y/N and Mohawk broke apart to find the other variants surrounding them, faces twisted with jealousy and possessiveness. The passionate moment dissolved into tension as four pairs of identical yet distinct eyes locked onto them with tangible fury.

Omni's usually composed features were dark with fury, his lips pulled back from his teeth in a silent snarl. The perfect order of his appearance had fractured—his hair disheveled from the earlier fight, a vein pulsing prominently at his temple, his breathing uncharacteristically ragged. What made the display so shocking was how completely it shattered his carefully maintained facade of control.

Sinister's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits behind his black lenses, his shoulders rising and falling with each rapid breath. His gloved hands opened and closed reflexively at his sides, the leather creaking audibly with each movement. The smirk that typically adorned his face had vanished, replaced by a thin-lipped expression of pure rage. Unlike Omni, Sinister made no attempt to hide his emotions—his jealousy radiated from him in almost visible waves.

Viltrumite Mark's jaw worked silently beneath his skin, the muscle jumping erratically at the hinge. His white uniform, though still immaculate compared to the others, bore smudges of dirt and debris from the earlier conflict. His eyes never left Y/N's face, something possessive and dangerous lurking in their depths.

No-Mask's reaction was the most naked, his face contorted with undisguised pain and betrayal. Without the barrier of a mask, every emotion played across his features in high definition—the shock, the hurt, the jealousy. His mouth opened and closed wordlessly, as if the sight of Y/N in Mohawk's arms had robbed him of speech. A flush crept up his neck, staining his cheeks crimson with emotion.

HI gaze dropped momentarily to the prominent bulge in Mohawk's suit, the wet spot at the tip of his erection visible to all. No-Mask's expression shifted from pain to embarrassment to anger in rapid succession, his own body responding involuntarily to the sight of Y/N's flushed face and swollen lips.

Sinister caught the direction of No-Mask's gaze and let out a bark of laughter, the sound brittle and sharp. "Getting a little excited there, Mohawk? Can't say I blame you." His tone was deliberately casual, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed his own jealousy.

"Though I prefer a more... private approach to these matters." Despite his mocking words, there was an undercurrent of pure rage in his voice.

As soon as the other variants approached, Mohawk's arm tightened around Y/N, his moment of vulnerability disappearing behind a sneer. The air around them seemed to thicken, charged with unspoken tension as the others formed a loose circle around them, hovering like sentinels in the devastated sky.

Omni's face was a study in controlled panic. While his posture remained rigid and his movements precise, his jaw muscle twitched beneath the skin, a hairline fracture in his perfect composure. The corner of his left eye spasmed minutely, and a vein at his temple pulsed in rhythm with his accelerated heartbeat. His breathing was deliberately measured, each inhale and exhale carefully calibrated to maintain the illusion of calm while his eyes, behind his mask, never left Y/N's face.

"I thought we forged something unique in the cabin," he stated, his voice carefully neutral despite the accusation inherent in the words. "Was that a lie?"

Sinister's head tilted slightly forward like a predator tracking wounded prey. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, leaving them glistening in the afternoon light. The corner of his mouth curled upward in a half-smile that never reached his eyes—eyes hidden behind black lenses that reflected Y/N's own pale face back at her.

"Don't act so surprised, Omni," he taunted, his voice silky with malice. "Did you think she would be satisfied with your clinical approach to pleasure? Your calculated touches and precisely timed kisses?" He moved closer to Y/N and Mohawk, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face with unexpected gentleness. "She needs passion, fire... not your cold logic."

No-Mask couldn't contain his panic, hovering several feet away, hands opening and closing at his sides. His eyes were wide and wild, darting between Y/N and the blood seeping through her bandages. The crimson stain had grown significantly larger during the brief kiss, the fabric now saturated to a disturbing degree.

"This is fucking ridiculous," Viltrumite Mark snarled, his regal composure shattered completely. His pristine white uniform stood in stark contrast to the chaos of his emotions, the fabric rippling as his muscles tensed beneath. His usually authoritative demeanor had given way to something raw and urgent. "She's dying, and you're all fighting over who gets to kiss her next? Are your dicks controlling your brains now?"

The crude phrasing from the typically dignified Viltrumite Mark shocked them all into momentary silence. He no longer hovered regally above them but had descended to their level, hands clenched into fists at his sides, jaw set in a hard line.

"You need medical attention," Omni stated, his voice steady despite the worry evident in his eyes. A single bead of sweat traced a path down his temple, disappearing beneath the edge of his mask. His hands opened and closed at his sides, the leather of his gloves creaking softly with each movement. "The infection is spreading rapidly. If we don't act soon, you'll die."

"So what?" Y/N challenged, her voice brittle with pain and defiance. She pushed away from Mohawk, her movements uncoordinated and weak. Blood had soaked through her bandages completely now, the fabric dark and heavy against her skin. The metallic scent hung in the air around her, sharp and concerning. Her eyes burned with fever, pupils dilated and unfocused as she swept her gaze across all of them. "Why should I trust any of you? You came here to destroy my world, to kill everyone!"

The accusation hung in the air between them, sharp and undeniable. The devastation below—uprooted trees, cratered earth, the distant smoke of burning cities—stood as mute testament to her words. From their elevated position, they could see the destruction that stretched to the horizon—forests flattened, roads cratered, and buildings reduced to rubble. In the distance, several pillars of smoke rose from what had once been thriving communities, now reduced to ash and debris.

Silence fell over the group, heavy with unspoken guilt. It was Sinister who finally broke it, his usual swagger absent as he spoke.

"Because we lost you once," he said, his voice low and controlled, though something in it wavered ever so slightly. He didn't remove his black lenses, but the set of his mouth—usually twisted in a cruel smirk—had softened into something almost vulnerable. "All of us, in different ways. And it broke us."

He gestured around at the assembled variants, his movements precise and measured, lacking their usual predatory grace.

"Look at what we became without you. Monsters. Killers." He paused, a smirk returning to his lips as he added, "Well, I was always a killer. Enjoyed it, too. But the others..." He let the implication hang, eyes hidden behind his black lenses but his meaning clear.

He floated closer to Y/N, his approach cautious, as if afraid she might flee again. When he stood before her, he did something unexpected—he took her hand in his, the leather of his glove warm against her skin as his thumb traced gentle circles on her wrist.

"I know you're not her—not my Y/N," he said softly. "But when I saw you, something inside me that died with her came back to life." His free hand hovered near her face, trembling slightly before he let it fall away, as if he didn't trust himself. "I can't lose that again. I can't go back to being just an... empty fucking killer without you."

"Planet shit doesn't fucking matter!" Mohawk's voice cracked with emotion, the smooth veneer he usually wore shattering like glass. He pushed forward, hovering closer, his face contorted with an emotion too complex to name. Sweat beaded along his hairline, causing strands of hair to stick to his forehead in dark, damp tendrils. His gaze never left Y/N's face, drinking in every detail like a man dying of thirst. The prominent bulge still strained against his suit, a visible reminder of their interrupted kiss.

"The main point is—" He stopped, struggling to find the right words. In a movement both desperate and gentle, he pushed Sinister out of the way to take her hands in his. Sinister's face darkened with anger, a muscle twitching in his jaw as he was forced aside.

Mohawk looked deeply into her eyes, his own intense and sincere. The pupils were so dilated that only a thin ring of color remained visible, black swallowing brown in a visual representation of his emotional state. A muscle jumped in his jaw, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His expression mirrored the vulnerability he'd shown during their kiss—raw, unfiltered emotion that he'd never allow anyone else to witness.

"We won't fucking lose you again," he added, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that seemed to caress her skin like a physical touch. The sound vibrated in the air between them, intimate despite their audience. His grip on her hand tightened fractionally, not enough to hurt but enough to convey his desperation. "Even if we have to share you. We can find a way to work it out."

The last sentence hung in the air, loaded with implications that made Y/N's stomach flutter despite her condition. Mohawk leaned closer, his breath warm against her face as he uttered a final promise, the words carrying the weight of an oath: "You will love us, Y/N... Love me..."

The declaration sent a shiver through her that had nothing to do with her fever. There was something in his tone—a certainty, a devotion—that both frightened and thrilled her.

Before she could respond, the air around them seemed to wobble, particles shifting in an unnatural pattern.

The variants tensed, sensing the disturbance—a tension in reality that they'd felt earlier but had ignored in their confrontation. Now it returned, stronger and more insistent like fabric being stretched to its breaking point.

With a sound like reality tearing, a black portal materialized twenty feet away in the air. The edges crackled with dark energy, ribbons of shadow writhing around its circumference like living things. From its depths, a body was thrown—no, hurled—into their midst.

Darkwing crashed to the ground with a sickening thud, his body a broken, bloody mess. His costume was in tatters, revealing flesh beneath that was more wound than skin. One arm hung at an unnatural angle, clearly ripped backward if not worse. The other appeared to be barely attached, held to his body by thin strips of muscle and costume fabric. His mask was half torn away, revealing a face so bruised and bloodied it was barely recognizable as human. Through split and swollen lips, he drew rattling breaths, each one sounding more painful than the last.

From the portal stepped a figure that radiated casual cruelty—Lensless Mark. His uniform was tattered and ripped, his face and hands spattered with blood. Unlike the other variants, his mask resembled that of a luchador, lacking the traditional goggles and giving his face a strangely naked quality despite being covered. His lips were curled in a smile that held no warmth, only satisfaction at the suffering he'd caused. Areas of his suit were torn at the pecs and abdomen, revealing tanned, scarred skin beneath.

"How touching. The monsters have found their beauty," he drawled, his gaze sweeping over the assembled variants before landing on Y/N.

All heads turned to face him, bodies instinctively shifting to place themselves between Y/N and the newcomer. The protective formation happened without discussion or planning—a unified response from men who moments ago had been at each other's throats.

"So this is what's been keeping you all distracted," he continued, his gaze roving over Y/N's body with interest. Unlike the others, there was no warmth in his assessment, only a cold calculation that made her skin crawl. "I was wondering where everyone disappeared to after I got trapped in there. NO fucking help came for me. "

His appearance shocked the other variants. They had believed him dead, pulled into the shadowverse by Darkwing. Their expressions reflected their confusion and growing concern. With the war still ongoing and so few of them remaining after the brutal fighting, Lensless's return was an unexpected complication.

"What did you all call her? Y/N?" he mused, his head tilting as if considering the name. "Hmm. Yes. Rather mundane, isn't it?"

"This doesn't concern you," Omni said, his voice icy as he shifted to partially block Y/N from Lensless's view. His body language was pure protectiveness now, all traces of his earlier jealousy subsumed by this new threat.

Lensless laughed, the sound sharp and without humor. "Oh, but it does. Angstrom is looking for all of you. The final phase is about to begin." His eyes narrowed behind his mask as he focused on Y/N again.

"Though I must say, I'm curious about what makes this one so special that you'd take a detour from our true mission."

In a movement almost too fast to follow, he appeared directly in front of Y/N, brushing past the protective circle of variants. His gloved hand reached out, gripping her chin and tilting her face up to his. His touch was neither gentle nor especially rough, simply... clinical. His thumb pressed against her lower lip, forcing it down slightly as he examined her face like a specimen.

"Awww I don't see it," he pronounced, his voice tinged with disappointment.

"She looks like any other human to me. Fragile. Breakable." His grip tightened fractionally, enough to make Y/N wince. "Already dying from a simple infection. Pathetic."

The attack came from all sides at once.

Mohawk's fist connected with Lensless's jaw, the impact creating a sonic boom that shattered what few intact tree branches remained below. The punch sent Lensless spinning backward, a spray of blood arcing through the air from his split lip.

Before he could recover, Sinister appeared behind him, driving a knee into his spine with such force that Y/N could hear the vertebrae crack. The blow arched Lensless's back at an unnatural angle, his mouth opening in a silent scream of pain.

Omni and Viltrumite Mark moved in perfect unison, like dancers who had rehearsed for years. Omni struck high, his calculated punch landing precisely at the junction of Lensless's neck and shoulder, targeting the cluster of nerves there. Viltrumite Mark struck low, his fist driving into Lensless's solar plexus with enough force to expel all air from his lungs.

The combination of blows sent Lensless plummeting toward the devastated forest below. He crashed through three massive oak trees before hitting the ground with enough force to create a small crater, dirt, and debris exploding outward from the impact site.

No-Mask circled around, waiting for his opportunity, his face set in lines of determination rarely seen on his usually expressive features. He hovered above the impact site, ready to intercept if Lensless attempted to flee.

Y/N hovered, forgotten in the chaos of battle, her condition worsening by the second. The world tilted and spun around her, fever making everything blur at the edges. She pressed a hand to her wound, feeling fresh blood seep between her fingers. The warmth of it was alarming, spreading across her abdomen in a widening stain.

Below, the battle had expanded, the variants using the devastated landscape as both weapon and battleground. Mohawk tore a shattered tree trunk from the ground, hurling it at Lensless with enough force to level a building. The makeshift projectile whistled through the air, trailing leaves and splinters in its wake before Lensless dodged at the last second. The trunk embedded itself in the hillside behind him, quivering with the force of impact.

Omni calculated his trajectories, using precision strikes to herd Lensless into Sinister's path. Each punch was measured and deliberate, not seeking to cause damage but to manipulate Lensless's movements. Where Lensless dodged one blow, he found himself in the path of another, Omni's strategy becoming clear as Lensless was forced closer and closer to where Sinister waited.

Viltrumite Mark moved with regal fury, each blow causing sonic booms to ripple through the air. His white uniform was a blur of motion, seeming to be everywhere at once. Unlike the others, his attacks held nothing back—each punch and kick was delivered with the full force of his Viltrumite strength, intended not to subdue but to destroy.

Despite being outnumbered, Lensless held his own, his childish laughter echoing across the battlefield as he taunted and dodged. His fighting style was unpredictable, and chaotic, making him difficult to pin down. Where the others fought with purpose and strategy, Lensless fought like a child pulling wings from insects—with casual cruelty and evident enjoyment.

"You're all pathetic!" he called out, evading another coordinated attack. His voice carried across the battlefield, high and mocking.

"Pining after a ghost! She's not even the same woman you lost!"

His words struck deeper than any physical blow could have. For a moment, hesitation rippled through the attacking variants, a half-second of doubt that Lensless immediately exploited. He surged upward, breaking free of their formation, and shot directly toward Y/N.

"Let's see how quickly you forget her when she's gone for good," he snarled, his hand reaching for her throat. The afternoon sun glinted off his gloved hand as it stretched toward her, fingers curled like talons.

Time seemed to slow. Y/N watched him approach, her body too weak to move, her mind oddly clear despite the fever. She could see every detail of his face as he neared—the hatred in his eyes, the cruel twist of his mouth, the tiny scar that bisected his right eyebrow. She could hear the panicked shouts of the other variants as they raced to intercept him, too far away to reach her in time.

In that moment of perfect clarity, something shifted inside her. The power that had been dormant since they'd removed the GDA collar flickered to life, responding to her desperate need. Energy surged through her veins, temporarily burning away the fever's fog.

As Lensless's hand closed around her throat, Y/N's eyes began to glow with an inner light. The blue-white radiance started at her pupils, spreading outward until her entire eyes were luminous pools of energy. Power radiated from her in visible waves, her hair lifting in an invisible wind, strands floating around her face like a dark halo. Her skin took on an ethereal glow, veins beneath the surface illuminated with the same blue-white light that consumed her eyes.

Her hand shot up, gripping his wrist with strength that belied her condition. Her fingers—moments ago weak and trembling—now closed around his arm with crushing force. The material of his suit compressed beneath her grip, the bones of his wrist grinding together audibly.

"Not today," she whispered, her voice resonating with newfound power. The sound seemed to come not just from her throat but from the air around them, as if reality itself amplified her words.

The energy exploded outward from her body in a concussive wave, sending Lensless flying backward with such force that he created a trench in the earth when he landed. The ground split open beneath the impact, dirt and rock spraying outward like water from a broken dam. Trees that had survived the earlier battles were flattened in concentric circles from the epicenter of Y/N's power.

The other variants braced themselves against the blast, shielding their eyes from the brilliant light emanating from Y/N. The wave passed over them, powerful enough to push them back but not to harm them—as if her power somehow recognized them as not-enemies.

For a moment, she hovered above them all, radiant and terrible, her body still suspended in the air by her own power. The infection that had been killing her was temporarily burned away by the energy coursing through her system. Her wound glowed from within, the damaged tissue knitting itself back together visibly, the process accelerated to a speed visible to the naked eye.

Beneath her torn clothing—the fabric of her suit shredded across her abdomen, exposing the smooth skin beneath—they could see muscle and tissue regenerating. The deep gash that had been leaking crimson life across her stomach closed before their eyes, angry red flesh knitting together with pulsing blue-white light. The tattered edges of her suit fluttered in the energy field emanating from her body, occasionally revealing glimpses of the curve of her breast where the fabric had been torn diagonally across her chest. The legs of her suit, stained dark with blood and dirt, ripped low on her hips, frayed and revealing a sliver of skin just above her hipbone.

The variants watched in awe, their identical faces transformed by different shades of the same emotion—wonder mixed with desire, concern tangled with reverence. The setting sun cast them all in amber light, highlighting the tension in their jaws, the dilation of their pupils, the parted lips as they struggled to comprehend what they were witnessing.

Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the power faded. The light dimmed, starting with her skin, then her veins, until finally, her eyes returned to their natural color. The glow receded like a tide pulling back from the shore, leaving Y/N looking small and vulnerable once more. Her eyelids fluttered, exhaustion replacing the momentary strength, and she began to fall.

Five figures moved as one, racing to catch her. The air crackled with their passage as they broke the sound barrier, converging on Y/N's falling form from different directions. They reached her simultaneously, each grabbing a part of her with careful strength—Omni supporting her shoulders, his gloved hands cradling her with gentle precision; Mohawk at her waist, his fingers splayed possessively across her exposed midriff; Viltrumite Mark securing her legs, his normally stoic expression softened with concern; Sinister cradling her head with uncharacteristic gentleness, leather-gloved fingers threading through her hair; and No-Mask hovering protectively above them all, his unobscured face displaying every nuance of his worry.

As a unit, they descended to the forest floor, moving in perfect coordination despite their earlier antagonism. They touched down on a relatively undamaged clearing, gently lowering Y/N onto one of the few untouched patches of soft grass left. The setting sun painted the scene in gold and crimson, the long shadows of the men stretching across Y/N's still form like protective fingers.

Omni knelt beside her, his pulse quickening beneath his uniform as his fingers sought the pulse at her neck. The skin there was soft and warm against his fingertips, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat a counterpoint to his own racing pulse.

"It's steady," he reported, relief evident in the softening of his shoulders. The usually immaculate lines of his uniform were marred by dust and blood, a physical manifestation of the cracks appearing in his carefully constructed facade.

"The wound is healed on the surface, but the internal damage may remain. Her fever has broken, but she's severely dehydrated and exhausted."

"What the hell was that?" No-Mask asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he stared at Y/N's unconscious form. His hand hovered near her face, not quite touching, trembling slightly with the effort of restraint. Unlike the others, his unmasked face revealed every emotion—awe, desire, fear—all written clearly in the widening of his eyes and the tension around his mouth. A smear of dirt marked his left cheek, a bead of sweat tracing its way down his temple.

"I've never seen power like that from any Y/N in our universes."

"The GDA must have modified her differently in this reality," Viltrumite Mark mused, his regal stance betrayed by the concern in his eyes as they remained fixed on Y/N's face. His white uniform, normally pristine, bore the marks of battle—a tear across the chest, a smudge of dirt on the shoulder, droplets of blood spattered across the fabric. The sun caught in his hair, turning the brown strands gold at the edges.

"Perhaps removing the collar didn't just free her from their control but unlocked abilities they were suppressing."

"Who gives a fuck about the how," Mohawk interjected, pacing restlessly nearby. Each step left an impression in the soft earth, his movements jittery with excess adrenaline. His signature hairstyle, usually maintained with meticulous precision, now lay partially flattened on one side, giving him a lopsided, almost vulnerable appearance. A bead of sweat traced the sharp angle of his jaw, disappearing beneath the high collar of his suit. "Did you see what she did to Lensless? One fucking touch and she sent him flying like a rag doll."

A grin spread across his face, carving deep lines around his eyes that crinkled with genuine joy rather than his usual cynicism. He gestured expansively, his gaze never leaving Y/N's still form. "My—our girl's got teeth."

His expression softened as he knelt beside her, one gloved hand hesitantly reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. The touch was feather-light, his fingertips lingering on her temple with a gentleness that seemed at odds with his usual brutality. "She's more than just a pretty face. She's fucking magnificent." The admiration in his voice was tinged with possessiveness, his eyes darkening as he added, "And she's ours."

"She's not out of danger," Omni cautioned, his hand resting lightly on Y/N's forehead. Though cooler than before, her skin still held an unnatural warmth beneath his touch. A muscle in his jaw twitched with suppressed emotion, a hairline crack in his usually perfect control.

"That power surge likely depleted what little reserves she had left. She needs proper care, not just field medicine."

A groan from the nearby trench reminded them that Lensless was still a threat. The sadistic variant was pulling himself from the ground, blood streaming from multiple wounds. His suit was torn across the chest and abdomen, revealing muscled flesh beneath, scored with deep gashes that oozed crimson. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheek mottled with bruises. Blood dripped steadily from his split lip, splattering onto the churned earth beneath him in a rhythmic pattern. Despite his injuries, his visible eye gleamed with manic intensity, and his lips were twisted in a grin that spoke of insanity rather than humor.

"You think this changes anything?" he called, staggering to his feet. Each movement was labored, with evidence of broken bones and internal injuries. Blood dripped steadily from his fingertips, pattering onto the churned earth beneath him like macabre raindrops. His chest heaved with each breath, a wet rattle suggesting punctured lungs or broken ribs. Still, he straightened, defiant even in defeat.

"She'll die, just like all the others. And you'll all go back to being the monsters you truly are," he taunted, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the ground. The crimson spatter formed a grotesque pattern at his feet, shining wetly in the dying light. "We still have a mission to complete! Fuck this world and its beings. Angstrom is waiting for us!"

Mohawk's expression darkened, shadows gathering in the hollows of his cheeks as a savage smile spread across his face. "You know what? I'm going to enjoy this." He cracked his knuckles, the sound like gunshots in the quiet forest. His body tensed, muscles bunching visibly beneath his suit as he readied for the kill.

"Go," he said to Omni without taking his eyes off Lensless. "Take her to the meeting point with Angstrom. I'm done with this piece of shit."

Omni hesitated, looking down at Y/N's pale face. For once, indecision was written clearly in the set of his shoulders, the tension around his mouth. The evening light caught the moisture gathering in his eyes, transforming them into pools of liquid amber behind his mask. A single tear escaped, tracking a clean path through the dust on his face before falling onto Y/N's cheek—a glistening diamond against her flushed skin.

"Don't die," he whispered, leaning down to press his lips to her forehead. The kiss was feather-light, almost reverent, his breath warm against her skin, carrying the scent of aftershave and something uniquely him. His fingers brushed her cheek, lingering as if trying to memorize the texture. "Please."

With that, he was gone, streaking through the sky with Y/N held securely against his chest. His arms formed a protective cage around her, one hand cradling her head against his shoulder while the other supported her back. The wind whipped past them, ruffling her hair and cooling her fevered skin.

The remaining variants turned as one toward Lensless, spreading out to surround him. The setting sun cast long shadows ahead of them, turning four figures into monstrous silhouettes against the devastated landscape.

"Four against one?" Lensless laughed, wiping blood from his face with the back of his hand, leaving a crimson smear across his cheek. The sound was wet and choked, bubbles of blood forming at the corners of his mouth. "Hardly seems fair."

"Good," Sinister replied, his smile all teeth, sharp canines gleaming in the dying light. His eyes were cold behind his black lenses, his posture deceptively relaxed even as his fingers flexed in anticipation.

"We don't play fair anymore."

–––––––––

As Omni flew with Y/N toward their destination, her eyes fluttered open briefly. Sunlight filtered through clouds, casting dappled patterns across her face as the wind tousled her hair. Despite her condition, a small smile curved her lips as she looked up at him, raising a hand weakly to touch his face.

"You're crying," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the rush of wind. Her fingers, warm and gentle, traced the damp trail on his cheek, sending shivers down his spine.

"No, I'm not," he denied automatically, his usual defenses kicking in even as another tear escaped to contradict him. The droplet caught the light, transforming into a prism for a heartbeat before the wind whisked it away.

Y/N's smile widened slightly, her hand weakly reaching up to touch his cheek again. Her fingers came away damp, glistening in the sunlight. Her lips, still tender from Mohawk's earlier kisses, parted slightly as she whispered, "Liar."

A laugh escaped him, the sound rusty from disuse. His eyes crinkled at the corners, the tension in his jaw easing for the first time since they'd arrived in this universe.

"Just stay with me," he urged, tightening his hold on her slightly. Her body fit perfectly against his as if designed as his missing piece. "We're almost there."

"Will you share?" she asked, her voice fading as consciousness began to slip away again. Her eyelids grew heavy, dark lashes fluttering against her cheeks like butterfly wings. "With the others?"

The question caught him off guard, making him falter slightly in his flight. "What?"

"Will you share... me? Can you all... love me?" Each word seemed to cost her tremendous effort, her eyelids growing heavier with each syllable. Her fingers curled weakly into the fabric of his suit, holding on as if afraid he might vanish.

Omni was silent for a long moment, considering. The idea of sharing her with the others—his other selves—went against every possessive instinct he had. His jaw tightened, a muscle jumping beneath the skin as he battled with himself. And yet... if the alternative was losing her entirely...

"Yes," he finally said, the word feeling strange on his tongue. His voice softened as he added, "If that's what you want."

The admission sent an unexpected warmth through him. The knot of tension in his chest—a constant companion since he'd lost his Y/N—loosened slightly. Perhaps sharing her was the only way any of them could truly have her. Perhaps, in this fractured reality, they could find a new kind of wholeness with her.

Their Y/n.

–––––––––––––––

I'm losing motivation for this story (Even though I already had the whole storyboard written out). (っ- ‸ - ς), But I'll PULL THROUGH! Let me know if you guys are interested in more plot and perhaps smut later on in the story. Quite literally, maybe even the next chapter...

I'm really trying to include 'love' for all the variants. let me know if you want another or specific one to be included more.

Lensless Mark = No Goggles Mark

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5

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a5tr0n0m1cal · 5 months ago

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👉👈🥺 Sebastian patching an expendable up and being grumpy about it?

A stray bullet had ricocheted off the vent and into your side, making you cry out and fall to your stomach, you army crawl as much as you can through the vent before pulling yourself into the blessed safety of Sebastian’s shop.

Sweat beads your brow and you’re high on adrenaline, you sit leaning against the wall, gingerly touching your side just to confirm your fears, you were bleeding quite profusely. Fiery sensations spread up from the wound, all across your torsos right side. You paled, pressing your hand back to the wound starting to panic.

“Ahem.” A voice finally cuts through your panic enough for you to hear. “You going to buy something or are you just gonna bleed all over my floor?”

Right.

In all your panic you almost forgot to acknowledge him. “Sebastian.” You say his name, looking up at the mutated shop keeper. He cocks a brow at you, glowing cyan eyes unreadable. He tucks a stubborn piece of hair behind his webbed ear fins, a movement you’ve become familiar with when visiting him.

“Yeah?” He finally says, sounding annoyed. You’d be indignant if you weren’t so weak. You try to stand up, eyeing a medkit on his tail before feeling pain jolt through you, making you crumble back to the floor, droplets of flood splattering out. This was bad. Serious. You couldn’t die again, you had no more ferry coins.

“Please.” You say, trying to crawl, half scooting across the floor. “I’ll pay. Help me.” You plead.

Sebastian makes an annoyed sound, long thick tail flapping against the far wall in what you assume is irritation.

“This isn’t a nurses office.”

“I’ll give you everything I have.” You say, feeling woozy.

Sebastian sighs, leaning down from the great height he holds himself. Long enough he doesn’t even need to move from his spot to reach you.

Large cold hands seat your hand from your side, claws surprisingly gentle as they probe the wound. “Over here.” He grumbles, not giving you a warning as he hooks a hand under you, lifting you easily with just one palm.

He sets you down on a couple of crates pushed together, pushing on your shoulders till you’re lying down.

You vision is spotty but you catch his focused look behind his dangling esca. He yanks the medkit from his tail, flicking it open and rummaging around before finding something and biting the top off it. He spits the lid to the side and pours something on your side making you jump, pain burning through you.

“What the f-“ he keeps his third smaller arm pressed against your chest, keeping you down easily. “Quiet, I need to focus.” He snaps, threading a needle with his free hands. He meets your eyes briefly, you almost could swear with pity.

“This will hurt.” He says, prying your bloodied torn suit away from the wound.

“No really I had no ideAAAA” you cry out, feeling him slowly start to sew up your wound. It’s agonizing, but his heavy hand on your chest keeps you grounded. “Almost done, you’re doing fine.” He assures, giving you a comforting(?) squeeze. He finally closes the wound, biting the string and pulling out some bandages. You grunt as he sits you up, wrapping the bandages around your waist for you.

He’s very close. You dont think you’ve ever seen his face so up close. You notice small scars on his skin, scales that creep on the sides of his face, even gills that peek out from under his neck scarf. He clears his throat and you realize you’ve been staring at him.

“Th-thank you.” You say, lightly touching your side and feeling the bandages. He did a good job.

“Yeah well…” he lets go of you, leaning back and rising back to his usual height. “You owe me.”

You nod, moving slowly as to not rip your new stitches and retrieve all the data you’ve packed away on this run. You weakly hold it up to him and he takes it gingerly from your hand, claws brushing over the back of your hand. You swing your leg over the side of the crate, ready to leave.

“Be careful next time yeah? I don’t want that medkit to go to waste.” He says, with a lot less bite then you’re used to.

“Yeah. I got it. Thank you.”

He watches you leave, ear fins wiggling slightly.

#you see spelling mistakes no you DONT #anyways #sebastian solace #sebastian pressure #Sebastian solace x reader #pressure #pressure roblox #roblox pressure #Sebastian solace imagines #pressure imagines #pressure x reader #platonic or romantic or whatever #in my mind it’s just the start where he’s warming to you

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revasserium · 2 years ago

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could we get a protective zoro pretty please! maybe reader gets kidnapped again and zoro comes to find her but we get the actual fighting and zoro being protective? i’ll take anything you write <3

here are monsters

zoro; 1,737 words; fluff, opla!zoro, shockingly introspective zoro, straw hat!reader, fem!reader, vague gore (but not rly even), just zoro slicin' ppl, established relationship

summary: prequel to this fic right here

a/n: *makes vague uncertain hand gestures at opla!zoro*

he’s always known of the monster inside him — always. he’s always known of the hurricane that spins just beneath the cage of his ribs, the thunderstorm brewing beyond the horizon-line of his heartbeat.

when he sees you bloodied, bruises blooming at the edge of your mouth, something inside him snaps like a tideline, ripped apart by the rage of the ocean slamming against the back of his teeth. there’s a jagged bloodlust curdling in his throat as he narrows his eyes, pulls out his swords and swings.

the shing of metal through air shouldn’t sound like music, the dull thunk of bodies hitting the ground, no baseline beat — the bitten-off screams of men as their throats are cut should not sound like the familiar tune to a life-long melody but zoro can’t help the grin that spreads, savage, across his lips as he leans into the rhythm of the fight and lets his body sing.

it would not be remiss to call him monster, so he thinks as he digs the hilt of his swords into the side of an oncoming thug and hears the sharp crack of shattering ribs. he doesn’t wince at the warm splatter of blood as it paints his cheeks. a wide, manic smile pulls at his lips as he swings both swords around in a wide circle to slice through three oncoming bodies, before bringing them down in an arc to bisect another thug from torso to legs.

by the time he turns back around, most of the so-called pirates have already scattered, but one (the leader of the whole sorry lot) still stands, a blade pressed to the smooth expanse of your throat as he snarls, backing away from zoro, nose twitching like a frightened rabbit.

“d-don’t come any closer! or — or else i’ll slit her throat!”

zoro’s lip twitches, his eyes hardening as he stares at the shaking heap of leathers and furs, too much talk and not enough backbone. it’s people like this, zoro thinks, that give pirates a bad rep.

“i’d like to see you try,” zoro’s voice is iron-hard and steel-sharp, a dull throbbing cresting through his temples at the thought of any more harm coming to you even as he catches your eyes. they’re wide and dark and pleading.

don’t do anything stupid.

he almost scoffs. too late.

and then, almost by second nature, the thought comes to him — well, you started it.

the corner of his eye twitches as he sighs, making a show of relaxing his stance, of standing up straight to slip his swords back into their sheathes. he watches as the last thug visibly relaxes — licking his lips as his own grip on your neck loosens.

“t-there see? that wasn’t so hard, was it? n-now — now hand over all the gold you have and i might —”

thwack.

you feel the man’s grip on you slacken completely as you glance up to find the wadou ichimonji impaled through the thug’s head, right in between his eyes, the blade and hilt still vibrating from the force of the hit, nailing the man to the basement wall. you let out a sigh as you jerk yourself out from underneath the dead man’s arms, making a face as zoro reaches down to pull his sword out with a wet schluck.

“tch. just cleaned it yesterday.”

it makes a soft whoomph as he shakes off the worst of the blood dripping from it’s blade.

“sorry… i’ll — i’ll clean it after we get back —” you push yourself to your feet, dusting of your skirt, but a sharp pain in your side makes you stumble, and a second later, zoro’s arm hooks around your middle to keep you from falling.

the metallic tang of blood and the cold scent of steel arrests your senses. the world spins, the floor beneath you swaying like the deck of a ship even as darkness starts to eat at the edges of your vision. you hear zoro calling your name as if through a long, echoing tunnel and you frown, uncertain why he sounds so frantic all of a sudden.

“don’t… don’t forget… the apples…”

zoro stares, aghast as you go limp in his arms. there’s a wild thundering inside his chest as he looks around, his mind racing to catch up to what you’d just said — apples? what the —

he spots them, discarded in a corner by the entrance of the basement hideout — a rough burlap satchel sagging against the wall, filled with waxy red apples, round as the autumn moon and nearly just as big. he stares at them for a full minute before his eyes slowly slide back to you, still lying inert in his arms, though your breathing has evened out and your cheeks are flushed just the slightest shade of pink.

you’re in no immediate danger, he knows, but there’s an unpleasant darkness seeping into the material of your shirt along your ribs and the thing in his chest stutters, the strange pressure threatening to calcify into something very much like panic.

so he takes a deep breath, because master swordsmen don’t panic. those of a calm mind… or what the fuck ever.

he takes another breath and hoists you onto his shoulder, wrapping his arm around the backs of your thighs as he stands up and makes for the exit, reaching down to snag the bag of apples, grimacing as he hooks them onto his free shoulder. they’re heavier than he’d expected.

he’s halfway to the docks before you start to stir and he slows his pace ever so slightly, careful not to dig his shoulder into your still-open wound.

“have a good nap?”

you groan, and he almost grins as he feels you trying to wiggle out of his grasp. he doesn’t break his stride even as he adjusts you on his shoulder and keeps on walking.

“l-let me down — i can walk —”

“nope. don’t feel like it.”

“i’m sorry, okay?”

you sigh, the tension once again leaving your body and for a second zoro worries that you’d passed out again, but the next second, he feels your fists thumping lightly against his waist.

“hm. don’t remember asking you to apologize.”

but he does slow his step. he steps onto the bustling boardwalk, ignoring the strange, lingering looks of passersby as he hauls you bodily towards where the going merry is docked.

“doesn’t mean i shouldn’t.”

he pauses then, bending down slightly to let you slip from his shoulders, keeping his arm wrapped around you even as you slide down the length of his torso to land on your feet. your palms are pressed to his chest as you look up at him, and for a moment, as zoro searches the depths of your eyes, he isn’t sure if he wants to kiss you for being alright or scream at you for putting yourself in danger in the first place.

like this, he can feel all of you pressing against all of him, and the thing inside his chest still feels like something of a monster but at least it’s no longer tearing him apart from the inside out. it beats, uncoordinated, against his sternum, thumping up till he can feel it at the base of his throat.

he lets himself look at you, lets his eyes roam the planes of your face, lingering on the bruise kissing the corner of your mouth. he licks his lips and looks away.

“what the hell were you doing buying so many apples anyway?”

at this, you purse your lips, your lashes fluttering hummingbird quick as you look away.

“uhm… i — i can’t tell you.”

zoro rolls his eyes as he bends down, and in one swift motion, tosses you back over his shoulder. you yelp in surprise as he starts to make his way towards the ship again, seemingly deaf to your protests as you kick our your legs and thump your fists against his back.

“really, warn me, the next time you plan on getting kidnapped for ransom, would’ya?”

but he can’t help the slight smile that twitches at the edge of his lips even as he carries you onto the merry’s deck, kicking open the kitchen door to set you on the long wooden prep table.

because you’re still here, warm and breathing beside him, a bit banged up and bloodied, sure, but alive nonetheless. he’d gotten to you in time.

the creature inside his chest purrs in contentment even as he schools his expression back into a suitable scowl as you pout at him from the kitchen table, saying something about not planning on getting kidnapped, and he quips back something about all this being a bad idea from get.

he allows himself a secret, relieved sigh as he starts to rummage around for the first aid kit he knows is there somewhere, glancing over his shoulder at the sound of your summer sun laughter, watching as you wince and clutch at your wounded side.

how’s he to tell you that with you, the monster inside him starts to feel like much less monster and much more man? and that the day he met you, he stopped thinking of himself as a natural disaster -- only that he might be naturally a disaster sometimes, but something else in all the moments in between.

so he settles for dressing your wounds instead, pressing his palm to the soft expanse of your skin, holding still the shivers that threaten to shake him to his very bones when his fingertips graze against the ridges of your ribs, his other hand resting on the soft plush of your hip.

he settles for kissing you quiet when you start to ramble, because he can’t let himself think of the other things he might want to do to you if you’d let him. he settles, as the monster in him settles as well.

because with you, he knows he is both monster and man, and he knows — judging by the way you smile at him as he pulls back from your kiss — that you wouldn’t have him any other way.

opla!zoro reqs open!

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darlingdreadwrites · 6 months ago

Text

Halloween (She's So Mean)

THIS IS A SECOND PART OF AN AU. IF THIS IS THE FIRST POST YOU SEE, I SUGGEST YOU CLICK ON THIS (“MAIN STORY”) TO READ THE FIRST PART OF THIS AU!!

pairing: Jeff the Killer x GN!Reader

summary: After arriving at Mr. Mann’s Manor of Frights, you decide to walk around.

contains: haunted house with jeff, scare actor jeff, making out and it’s slightly nsfw (under the red divider!!)

warnings: name calling (slut is used), he’s dressed as a murderous clown with blood on him and a fake knife

word count: 1.3k

masterlist

a.n: don’t be following or shamelessly flirt with scare-actors unless you know them personally and they’re ok with it PLEASE

“I want to just walk around,” you tell your friends. They nodded, walking deeper into the festival grounds.

Every few seconds, screams and laughter surround you – all thanks to the scare-actors scattered about. You feel a buzzing thrill under your skin, a mixture of excitement and nervousness propelling you further. You glance at your left, unaware of a man ready to leap out at you.

“Gotcha!”

You stumble back with a yelp, bumping into one of your friends. The man before you, dressed like a murderous clown, laughs maniacally. His sleek, black leather jumpsuit is zipped down just enough to expose a provocative amount of lean, scarred skin of his torso. Blood is splattered over his pale skin. His makeup enhances his almost-white skin, with dark red eyeshadow sweeping across his eyelids and extending under his eyes. The classic clown look is evident in the sharp diamond shapes that stretch from above his eyebrows to his cheeks. A black upside-down cross is drawn on his forehead, while black face-paint is made to look like his mouth is stretched out. Streaks of dried blood trail from his red lips down to his chin, completing the scary look.

You barely have time to respond before he leans in with a devilish grin – your heart hammers in your chest. You think he’s about to say something else but he only winks at you. He turns quickly to find his next victim, leaving you bewildered and breathless.

You and your friends continue to explore the festival, but your thoughts are stuck on that encounter. You wander through the festival, trying to shake off the chill that his presence left on you. But it doesn’t matter how many fun booths you pass or how many jokes your friends make, he has carved himself into your brain. You want to believe it was only because he effectively scared you.

You start to lose yourself in the atmosphere, the tension in your shoulders easing. The interaction seems to be behind you and your group has moved on to playing games. You’re standing near a brightly lit game stall, watching as your friend fails to properly throw a ball at a bottle. You laugh as another friend steps up to help – only to fail just as terribly.

“Miss me?” Someone whispers, their breath hot on your ear.

You spin toward him, coming face to face with the scare-actor from earlier. He’s so close that you can smell the leather of his suit and a faint scent of nicotine. He laughs sharply, causing you to shrink back against a wall behind you. When he pulls back his arm way too swiftly, you almost scream.

“You’re so hot!” You blurt out without thinking, closing your eyes tightly. Oh, fuck. You’re supposed to be scared. His job is to scare you, and here you were, declaring how hot you think he is.

Your eyes go wide in horror, and you seem to have genuinely caught him off guard for a moment. His taunting grin falters, and his eyes are just as wide as yours. Your face feels like hot coal when he bursts out into loud laughter. He doubles over, one of his hands pressed against his stomach. Your friends join in on his laughter, and you would have kicked him if your embarrassment hadn’t caused you to freeze.

“Oh, god, you –“ he gasps for air between laughs. “What kinda reaction – Jesus!”

“That wasn’t – I didn’t mean to – “You stammer out. You’re absofuckinglutely mortified.

“Nah, nah, you can’t take that back,” he teases as he calms down. Before you can answer, he grabs your wrist and it’s surprisingly gentle. “Since you think I’m so hot, I’m takin’ you with me. That okay?”

“Okay – “

You barely have time to look back at your friends who are now cheering for you. You’d get them back for this for sure. He’s dragging you through the maze of people, and you have to fight to keep up. He’s leading you toward the mansion, undoubtedly heading to one of the haunted experiences. Curious festivalgoers in lines watch as he skips to the entrance of one.

“C’mon, gorgeous,” he drawls, nodding at the worker who steps to the side to let you two in. he looks over his shoulder to flash you a smirk, but he’s also studying your reaction. “Unless you’re too scared.”

You’re too stunned and excited to resist, following silently behind him. A part of you really seems to like how he’s treating you. It was a strange mix of actions – like he was controlling you, but also giving you a chance to refuse. Not that you would refuse.

The inside of the attraction is dark and disorienting. The lights flicker above and cast eerie shows in the already creepy hallway. Every time an animatronic or an actor jumped out, you’d walk a little closer to Jeff. At one point, he got so tired of you practically squishing yourself against his arm that he just wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He pressed the palm of his hand against the side of your head, pulling you closer to him.

“What’s the matter?” He whispers, his lips lightly grazing your ear, and the warmth of his breath causes your brain to short-circuit. “Scared?”

Jeff is relentless, making jokes and flirting to break the tension. You attempt to match his energy, even if it is a bit shaky. A flurry of butterflies weighs heavily on your chest. He leads you down somewhere clearly off of the main path. He pulls back a curtain, revealing a door with a sign that reads “Employees Only.” He opens it with no issue before turning around. He stands in front of the dark corridor, the shadows framing his silhouette. He holds your wrist loosely, giving you another hint that you can stop this at any time.

“Wanna have some fun?” he asks, tilting his head. His tone then takes on a mocking lilt. “Promise I won’t bite… too hard.”

You hesitate for just a millisecond before stepping closer. That’s all the encouragement he needs, his grip on your wrist tightening. Who were you to say no?

“That’s my stupid little slut,” he purrs, walking backwards into the darkly lit hallway and pulling you with him. He looks at you and back to the door – another exit, he seems to be telling you. But you don’t move.

He closes it and the sounds behind it immediately sound muffled and distant. He stares down at you with a charged mischief that almost has your knees buckling. He holds up his prop knife, the flat side of the plastic blade lightly tapping against your cheek. He leans in, his breath hitting your face.

“Last chance to run, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low. He’s surprisingly considerate as his eyes search yours for any hint of uncertainty.

You’re too caught up in the moment to respond as your hands tangle into Jeff’s hair to pull him into an open-mouthed kiss. He doesn’t waste a second, immediately closing the distance. You can taste the copper that lingers in his mouth – fake blood, probably – but it only adds to the intoxicating thrill of the moment.

Your back hits the cold wall, the sharp pain tingling just enough to make you crave his closeness even more. He nips at your lower lip and grips your waist tightly. As his tongue delves into your mouth, one of his knees slips between your legs. He rolls his knee lightly against your clothed groin, the fabric of your jeans stimulating you just right. You moan into his mouth, and he drinks it up greedily, his slippery muscle sliding against yours.

Your hand presses flat against his stomach, the warmth mixing with the heat of your palm. Neither of you seemed to remember – or care – about the blood on his torso. It was dried by now, so, as you trailed your hand up his chest, the substance flaked off onto your hand.

You don’t know how long you had been gone, but all you knew was that you had lots of fun. You just didn’t think what you had done was obvious. That was until your friends squealed when you came back, pointing at and teasing you about the makeup staining the area around your mouth.

#creepypasta fanfiction #creepypasta fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer x y/n #jeff the killer fanfic #jeff the killer #jeff the killer x you #creepypasta au #creepypasta x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #Spotify

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tmntforeverinmyheart · 3 months ago

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An AU where Sonic and knuckles stayed on earth together.

Art: tw blood, injury.

Story: tw death, blood, injury, panic attack.

A single moment delayed the ring that would transport a young Sonic to earth. He was held hostage and almost killed by the echidna warriors, Longclaw would not let this happen. In front of the hedgehogs innocent eyes, he would witness his mother kill every single echidna that attacked them. Longclaw ended up passing from her injuries in that moment. Sonic feeling completely lost, was torn between doing as Longclaw said and leaving his home, or staying, hoping that someone would save him. This indecision left him frozen.

A young Knuckles left behind at his home, listened to the sounds of battle as his echidna brothers and sisters travelled further through the forest. He waited in anticipation for their victorious return. And waited, and waited. Silence fell over the forest. Knuckles ears twitched, straining to hear any sort of sound. There was nothing. In a panic he disobeyed his father’s instructions to stay and started running through the forest. He arrived at the battlefield to find more of a graveyard. Bodies of his fallen family and friends strewn across the grass. Blood was splattered on trees and bushes, dripping into puddles that stained the forest red.

A voice whispered for one of the fallen. Knuckles looked up and saw a hedgehog kneeling beside the body of the enemy.

Sonic was crying out for Longclaw. He sat with his knees digging into the dirt. A noise startled him and he looked up. A young echidna stood amongst the bodies, his eyes red with tears, he was shaking with anger. His hands gripped a weapon pointing at Sonic. Sonic stood up slowly and took out a ring. The echidna charged as the ring took form of a portal. Sonic ran through and the echidna followed. A chase commenced. sonic lost his footing and the echidna took this misstep as his chance, he pounced on Sonic and ended up pushing both of them off a cliff. They tumbled down, hitting branches and rocks. Gaining cuts and bruises. All the while the echidna wailed on the hedghog.

They landed. Knuckles pinned the hedgehog to a tree, holding his chest fluff tight. He raised a fist, readying for a strike. The hedgehog was crying, tears flowing down his cheeks freely. He was sniffling and begging to be let go. Knuckles looked deep into the hedgehogs eyes. He didn’t see an enemy, he saw a terrified child. His fist dropped. His body felt heavy and his head felt foggy. The grip on the hedgehogs fur loosened allowing him to escape. And he could’ve. He could’ve run as far as he wanted… but he didn’t. He fell onto his back and just stared at knuckles.

Knuckles despite himself started crying. Big fat tears rolled down his cheeks, smudging the warrior face paint he’d applied earlier. He sniffled and sobbed. His chest heaved. He grabbed the fur on his head and pulled down. His hands gripped the back of his head. His sobs grew louder. His whole body shook. He banged a fist against the side of his head repeatedly as his heart beat pounded in his ears. His breath came in short spurts to the point where he couldn’t control his breathing. He pulled his legs into his chest as he continued to bang his fists into his head. It was too much!! TOO MUCH!!

Ba-dump Ba-dump Ba-dump Ba-dump

Warmth spreaded throughout his chest. Gloved hands and furry arms wrapped around his torso. His heartbeat slowed and his sobs ceased. Mostly due to confusion and surprise. He looked down to find the hedgehog clinging to him. The same hedgehog he’d been trying to kill a couple of minutes ago, was now hugging him. A tight hug that spread warmth across his whole body. A hug that grounded him. “Why?” He whispered, his lips shaking.

“Because, your not a bad person” Sonic smiled “your a kid just like me. And I know when I’m feeling sad a good hug always helps”

“Thankyou” knuckles whispered. He curled his arms around the hedgehog, reciprocating the hug.

And there two grieving kids sat, under the stars.

#sonic the hedgehog #knuckles the echidna #sonic au #sonic movie universe #tw blood #tw death #tw panic attack #but only in writing form #tw injury #sonic the hedgehog 1 #sonic movie 1 #sonic angst #knuckles angst #sonic and knuckles

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the-kr8tor · 4 months ago

Note

Rose Hips + ⭐️ : Jason Todd and fae!reader in an AU where he and reader have been friends since he was on the streets and wandering forests and reader gives up their immortality to save Jason after he’s been killed by Joker c:

Gasp! A jason todd fic from me?! 😂 Thank you for the request, tony!!! I hope you like it ❤️

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for vague clothing), reader has a nickname, robin! Jason Todd, can be read as platonic, fae! Reader, CW injury, CW blood, TW death, hurt/comfort.

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

Navigation

Flames lick at your feet, embers crackling as the fire eats away at your home. Animals flee, tails tucked away in fear of it getting singed, but you, with the unshed tears in your eyes, and bare feet running across the glade– you run towards the direction of the searing heat. Its source is a man-made building made of stone and glass, something you thought was invincible. But as you get closer and closer, its destruction becomes inevitable.

All things must come to an end, but you have to try to save him. Jason, the blue eyed menace you've come accustomed to. His smile lingers in your mind, laughter echoing in your ears. You can still remember the day you met him, bruised and battered, skin blooming into crimson and royal purple— a colour you've only seen in flowers. The meeting was bound by fate, like the vines crawling up your arms and around your torso; a fate etched into stone. And yet you once turned it away, turned him away because he wasn't supposed to be here in the dark woods all alone, moreso with a being such as you. You tried to scare him then, made yourself look like a powerful deity of the forest only to be met by a bout of boyish laughter.

“You look like a cheap knock-off of poison ivy!” He once said to you as he clutched his stomach from laughter.

You didn't know poison ivy was a laughing matter for humans when its touch could blossom into boils. It got you curious then, what else do humans think about the world around them? How do they think now that they ride metal horses and run on rubber feet? So you let him go back to your abode, sometimes tending to his wounds with herbs as he talks nonstop about his life outside.

Soon all the monthly visits became weekly, then turned into daily visits. You ask him questions about his kind, and he answers, mostly in a joking manner. You never offered him your food, knowing that he doesn't deserve the life to be shackled with you for hundreds of years. He deserves better. You've only kept him company, a friend for him to talk to, someone to laugh with, someone he would care for and in turn you'd care for him too. Until he disappeared for almost a year, you didn't try to find him then, you only hoped that he's alright, that he's still alive and keeping that smile on him. Then he comes back with less bruises on his skin, no blood splattered on his shirt. And his eyes shine with something anew. Hope. He tells you of a friend, someone who helped him just like you have. Jason seemed happy despite the cracked knuckles, and the ache in his muscles, he found his purpose. And you were happy for him, told him that he's always welcome in your forest if he ever got tired of his bat companion.

Jason was younger back then, toughened to survive the harsh realities of humankind. He still is. While you've survived a millennia from their brutality with a stiff lip, he fought back, ever a fighter, a defender. So here you are, running to fight for him, to defend him when no one came to save him.

You leave the thicket, skin warm, heat radiating off of your primordial skin. The vines snaking around your forearm tightens, a tell of your worries for the blue eyed boy.

The fire devours the stone building, its heat blasting at your face as you try to pass its flaming curtains. With a wave of your hand, you weave a wall of vines, its protruding thorns sharper than teeth. It shields your form from the flames that threaten to bite and nick at your skin. Entering the destruction, your eyes rapidly scan the place, hoping, wishing that you're not too late. You know he's here, but you barely feel his soul anymore. His warmth is tamped down by the embers kissing your flesh.

As you get further and further inside, the more danger you've put yourself in. You might be immortal, but you're not immune to the very thing that could single handedly destroy your home. The vines shield your form, but not enough as embers flicker too close to you. You're not afraid of dying, you've lived a thousand lifetimes, enough for someone to wish for an end. But as death knocks, not on your door but on Jason's limp body— you fear death.

“Jason!” Bolting towards him, you immediately kneel before him, hands patting away the flames eating away at him. Darkened smoke billows out from everywhere you see, and as you cup his cheek, he coughs weekly, eyes cracking open at the familiar sight of you. “Jason. I'm here, I'll get you out.” Before you could carry him, he grabs your wrist weakly.

“M–My mom.” He wheezes, soot covering his face. “Get h–her out first.”

You now notice another form in the building, and you realize why you haven't felt her presence until he told you.

“Jay, I'm sorry, she's gone.” You squeeze him once as tears flow down his cheeks, leaving a clean trail down his face. “I'll come get her out, but you come first.”

“B–But.” He coughs again, dry heaving on the concrete floor, eyes darting over to the limp body just a few feet away from him.

“I'll go back for her, I promise.” Despite his protest, you place your arm under his legs and back, carrying him as if he weighed nothing.

His face is marred by a beating, but under it, under all the caked blood and swollen eyes, he's still the same Jason you know. He's older now since you last saw him, but he's still a fighter.

He clings to you tiredly, fists holding onto a vine weaved across your chest. His breathing slows, eyes darting over to the simple chain of beads around your neck.

“You k–kept it.” It's getting harder for him to talk. You don't waste time sprinting away from the scene.

“Of course I did.” Wind and fire rushes at you, cheeks feeling like it's being boiled, and feet slowly burning away by the heated stone. “You made it.”

“You said—” he coughs, face tucked away on your bicep. “You said it was crudely made.”

“I lied, Jay.” Your eyes stings from the smoke, but you blink it away as you're close to the exit. “Stay awake for me.” Your voice doesn't tremble, but fear ebbs out of you in waves.

Jason manages to smile, patting the necklace weekly. “Liar.” He says, head lolling over your arm.

“Jason!” You wrap him closer, shielding him from a falling beam that's now blocking your path. “No!” Desperation ropes you in place, head craning down to look at his lifeless eyes.

“No.” You refuse for it to end this way.

With a burst of energy, you raise a fist, calling forth a tree to sprout from underneath the cracked concrete. Its trunk gives you enough leverage to make a new path above the flames, giving you a bridge. As you walk over its wooden body, you can hear it scream in agony.

You apologize as it gets snuffed out by the flames in time for you to push yourself and Jason out of the fiery abyss.

You don't waste time in returning to the thicket with Jason in tow, hoping that you have enough time to revive him. But as your knees give out from under you, plummeting down on the forest floor but away from the fanning flames. You realize that you can't keep your promise to him.

Cradling his head, you feel how cold he is under your touch. But there's still a spark in him, enough for you to do everything you can to yank him away from death's cold embrace.

Placing your head atop his own, you murmur words laced with an incantation— one you're forbidden to say. It could mean your destruction, but it could also give him life.

As you feel the air swirling around you, your power seeps out of you like sunrays. Light fights its way from underneath your ancient flesh, cracking you open, burning away the vines encompassing around you, and bathing Jason in its ethereal light.

It hurts more than flames, as if your form is being ripped away from your very being. With a muffled scream, your vision darkens as you fall forward and atop his chest.

Raindrops slowly drip from the above, raining down on both of your forms.

—

Jason wakes up to find you breathing above him, cheek pressed atop the burnt material of his suit. Your eyes are closed, fingers gripping at his arm like he's about to run away from you whilst you slept. His eyes are met with dappled sunlight, and his ears pick up a birdsong as the breeze kisses his cheek.

He blinks the heaviness behind his eyes away. There's no pain throbbing on his face and body, lungs breathing fine, even better than before. It's as if nothing ever happened to him. But when he feels your beating heart from above him, he knows something is amiss.

“Hey,” Jason sits up, hand cradling the back of your head as he tries to wake you up. “C’mon, wake up.”

You crack one eye open, nose scrunching up from the rude awakening. “Jay?”

He beams at you, chuckling at the drool running down your chin. “I've never seen you sleep.” His hands are warm and nice against your skin, so you indulge yourself by leaning against him. It seems that the simple act made him grin further. “Your heart's beating really fast, Grinch.”

You roll your eyes, wiping away at your chin. “You've never seen me sleep because fae people don't sleep.” Moving away and sitting up on your own, you narrow your eyes at his smiling face. “I told you not to call me that sour name.” Despite your words, you smile at him, happy that your incantation worked and he's alive. But there's a gnawing feeling at your chest, a worry that he's a figment of your grief stricken mind.

“Are you real?” You ask, voice small.

Jason takes your hand and places it atop his beating heart. “I'm real,” he notices that your arms are free of any vines binding you. He then takes the same hand and places it on your chest. “And you are too.”

Your eyes widen at the unfamiliar heavy feeling. “I'm—!”

Lunging at you, Jason embraces you on the forest floor as the early morning sun beams down on you. “Mortal.” You hug back, face hiding on the crook of his neck. He mirrors you, smiling against you. “And alive.”

“We both are.”

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

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reulaux · 10 months ago

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What if when fifteen year old Shen Jiu qi deviates and stabs Qiu Jianluo to death, Shen Jiu separates into two?

One soullessly continues on massacring and burning the Qiu, men and women, old and young alike.

The other becomes a floating intangible soul.

The ruthless one goes along with Wu Yanzi.

The passionate one lingers near unconscious Qiu Haitang who was carried out by a maid hidden nearby and is lying on the grass of the yard in front of the burnt manor.

"A Jiu…?" Qiu Haitang stirs and looks up at the ghost-like appearance of Shen Jiu.

"You're… Dead? Everyone… Is dead?" Qiu Haitang looks around at the angry flame engulfing her manor, breaks down, and cries.

"Miss Haitang…" Soul Shen Jiu says, "You should go to somewhere safe. You can't stay here."

"What about A Jiu…? Are you… Can you… No... You appear here... Are you turning into a vengeful spirit and is bound here...? Will you be able to reincarnate?"

Shen Jiu tries moving to the edge of the Qiu's property but is unable to cross the threshold.

"I'm bound here," Shen Jiu answers softly. "I'm to wait here for someone."

'Surely, that someone is Qi ge.' Shen Jiu thinks in his heart.

"Miss Haitang shouldn't worry. I'll be okay. You really should go somewhere safe."

Eventually Qiu Haitang listlessly leaves with the help of the surrounding female servants and the neighbours that woke up from the commotions and arrived.

Only few days later, when the ruins are still simmering, Yue Qingyuan arrives at what is left of the manor in haste.

He slows down to a shaky walk towards the ruin and collapses down on the wilted grass in front of the estate. His tears roll down.

"Xiao Jiu…"

Yue Qingyuan covers his face with his both hands and sobs.

"Qi ge."

Yue Qingyuan's face jerks up and sees the hovering translucent Shen Jiu.

"Xiao Jiu… You're… You're…" Yue Qingyuan stutters. Yue Qingyuan cannot gather enough courage to pronounce the word 'dead.'

"Qi ge finally comes. I've been waiting for so long. Now you can finally take me away from this place."

Yue Qingyuan does not seem to he hear what Shen Jiu said. He shakily reaches out to touch Shen Jiu's hand. Yue Qingyuan’s hand slightly passes through soul Shen Jiu but surprisingly is able to feel the warmth…

Not exactly…

More like some kind of energy within this ethereal form.

Yue Qingyuan gently gathers that energy of Shen Jiu into his embrace.

"Xiao Jiu, I'm sorry. Qi ge took too long. Qi ge is useless. Qi ge failed you. Qi ge is really sorry." Yue Qingyuan presses his face to the energy.

Shen Jiu wraps his incorporeal arms around Yue Qingyuan's torso, and urges, "Qi ge, let's go. You promised to free me and bring me to a sect to become a cultivator, didn't you? Let's go."

Yue Qingyuan lifts his head and smiles sadly at Shen Jiu.

"Of course, Xiao Jiu. Qi ge will bring Xiao Jiu to the sect and we can cultivate together."

Yue Qingyuan tenderly holds Shen Jiu's hand and carefully leads him back to the sect.

A year passes. Yue Qingyuan continues his cultivation and the duties as the future sect leader while Shen Jiu is always hanging around with him in Qiong Ding and hiding in Yue Qingyuan's sleeve or under the outer robe when they are not alone.

Somehow cultivators detect Shen Jiu's presence no differently from a spiritual sword or an artefact. And being the head disciple of the highest peak in one of the strongest sect, no one thinks Yue Qingyuan carrying some spiritual artefact with him is anything amiss.

In the Immortal Alliance Conference, Yue Qingyuan comes across a disciple of an infamous demonic cultivator who infiltrates the competition to kill and loot fallen participants.

Looking from afar, said disciple's thin body is splattered with blood all over. His face, even half draped by the shadowed of the canopy of the trees above, is extremely familiar, yet with terribly unfamiliar cold facial expression.

Yue Qingyuan, as if stuck in the same trance like when he arrived at the Qiu ruins, again, hypnotically, unsteadily steps towards the younger cultivator, not at all minding the corpses of disciples lying around them.

"Yue Qi…" The rogue cultivator's disciple enunciates darkly. "So, you've joined the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect and become the Qiong Ding Peak's head disciple?" The disciple chuckles coldly.

"Not bad… But why didn't you come back to look for me?"

Yue Qingyuan's unfocused gaze suddenly regains clarity. His face loses all colours.

At that time, incorporeal Shen Jiu who has been drifting behind Yue Qingyuan's shoulder, floats over to peer at the scene.

"Ah, I see. You’ve found a replacement." The demonic disciple reaches the conclusion icily. The demonic disciple tightens his grip on his sword with white knuckles.

In the lapse of judgement, Yue Qingyuan turns away from his opponent to ascertain that the ghostly Shen Jiu who has been accompanying him this whole time really is still right behind him, not having turned into the cruel teen in front of him.

The demonic disciple with Shen Jiu's face then takes that opportunity and lunges at Yue Qingyuan's heart.

The bodyless soul of Shen Jiu rapidly leaps forward and pushes the soulless body of his away from Yue Qingyuan.

"Xiao Jiu!" Yue Qingyuan yells.

This ghostly Shen Jiu is more tangible than the demonic disciple thought. Soul Shen Jiu tries to possess the disciple and settle into his own body, but, somehow, he is unable to. Nonetheless, at least, the demonic disciple's body's movements and attacks are restrained briefly.

Yue Qingyuan takes this opportunity to knock the demonic disciple out cold.

The demonic cultivator's master who followed behind and hides nearby when seeing the confrontation, seeing his most inimitably ruthless disciple easily overwhelmed by the famous head disciple of Cang Qiong and an uncanny, unpredictable being, decides to flee silently.

Yue Qingyuan carries the unconscious body of Shen Jiu back to the sect. His shizun and shishu then seal the demonic disciple’s energy with binding arrays.

"This is one strong budding demonic cultivator. It seems his master taught every dark art he knows without reservation," One Peak Lord says. "The body is by now irreparably and thoroughly corrupted by demonic cultivation. He used to have such high-quality meridians before.... What a pity."

Soul Shen Jiu, who is hiding inside Yue Qingyuan's outer robe, looks at his own body and clenches his incorporeal fists after hearing that.

Yue Qingyuan whispers to Shen Jiu, "I thought you died and became a ghost... But it seems someone or something ejected your soul from your real body instead...? And some demonic cultivator had been puppeting your body all this time?"

"I don't recall. When I came to, all I saw were only corpses and fire, but I didn't see my own body. I also thought I died, and my body had been swallowed by the fire."

"I want you to get your own body back, but they say this body is too damaged..." Yue Qingyuan looks at the unconscious body in the array, and notices that soul Shen Jiu never grows up, forever frozen at fifteen years old, while this body has the appearance of a taller sixteen years old.

"Don't bother, Qi ge. It is no use cultivating in a ruined body anyway. Since it turns out I’m a spiritual something, maybe I can cultivate my own body like a a spiritual beast? A yao cultivating to gain a human form?"

"Then I'll help Xiao Jiu finds scrolls about it." Yue Qi gives a small, sad smile to Shen Jiu.

"But we should still keep the body, just in case.” Yue Qi whispers.

"Shizun," Yue Qingyuan says aloud this time. "Let this disciple takes care of the demonic disciple."

"You’ve already learnt most arrays used to destroy a demonic cultivator... Then I'll leave this to you." The Cang Qiong sect leader turns away to deal with other matter and investigations.

Yue Qingyuan feigns taking time scrutinising the demonic disciple and preparing to execute him to stall time until everyone leaves the area. Then he starts relocateing all the items from his highest grade qiankun pouch to the other lower grade pouches, picks the body up, and stores it in the empty highest grade one.

Normally qiankun pouches cannot hold living beings, but since they found out that this body has no soul, it is no difference from a limb cut off from the main body, or a flesh puppet, ultimately an object. Though it is not good to say that out loud to Shen Jiu, Yue Qingyuan thinks.

"This will only be temporary." Yue Qingyuan assures Shen Jiu. "I don't know how long this qiankun pouch can hold your body, but we’ll research together to find the solution.”

The scene when the understanding is revealed:

Qiu Jianluo kicks Shen Jiu down onto the floor. Shen bruised body hurts all over. He wants to kill and destroy them all. Shen Jiu is extremely resentful. He wants revenge.

But at the same time, Shen Jiu misses his Qi ge. He is supposed to be waiting in this manor, to not go anywhere, until Qi ge rescues him, because Qi ge never breaks his promises. Qi ge will surely come. Shen Jiu believes so wholeheartedly.

So Shen Jiu is conflicted. Both the desires and faith are equally strong. Shen Jiu does not know what to choose.

What to choose...

Shen Jiu qi deviates.

And that:

Shen Jiu cannot settle in his own body because his mind is alrrady set solidly on Qi ge, so he is attached to Yue Qingyuan.

#svsss #original shen qingqiu #yue qingyuan #OG reulaux #shen jiu #snippet #qijiu #shen twins

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simplyhughes · 1 year ago

Note

hey hey!!! I hope you're well! I was just wondering if we could get a one shot or even a story if possible about trevor zegras and his girlfriend that has an attitude? I don't know why, but I get that vibe from him that he likes a girl with a bit of attitude 🤭🤭 thank you and have a great day!! ❤❤

Attitude Problem! // Trevor Zegras x Reader !

Quick little write! I hope I answered this prompt correctly! I hope you like it anon~~ <3

WC: 453

Warnings: Suggestive, Swears

The bathroom you share with your boyfriend, Trevor, has been concluded a crime scene. Makeup sprawled across the counter, hair jel splattered and countless cords and hot tools took up the space. You drag your hair wand through your hair, holding it and releasing it to lock the shape. Your eyes trail from your hair to Trevor, who is getting ready next to you.

“I really dont like your hair like that…” you said with your voice flat.

“Like what?” Trevor retorts with a little pep behind his words.

“Like you are about to throw on a pair of skinny jeans and look like a total west coast hipster dork.” You snap back narrowing your eyes. Trevor's jaw falls agape. You continue on curling your hair. “So, are you just gonna stand there? Fix it, idiot.” His mouth curls into a smirk. He drags his hand through his locks, tossing and shuffling it.

“Babe…” he began, “Any better?”

“Mmm…” You drag out. “Now you just look like a bum.” You state, contorting your face in a disgusted manner.

“Seriously?!”

“Oh just come here dickhead.” You make a hand motion signaling for him to come closer to you. Your hands find themselves on his broad shoulders, applying pressure trying to get him down on your level. He crouches downs meeting you face to face.

“You are adorable.” Trevor coos while pinching your cheek.

“You are an annoying prick” You respond, trying to hold back a smile and failing miserably. After you collect yourself, you begin to lather Trevor's hair with product, styling it to your heart's desire. “Jeez, I am way too talented. This is way better.” You say as you release your hands from his hair.

“Baby, I love it when you have your hands in my hair” Trevor says deviously with a major smirk painted across his face. You tilt your head up to look Trevor in the eye. Your face is in a state of deadpan, mouth straight, eyes narrow. Just as you were about to cuss him out Trevor grabs your chin. “Shhh, come on baby you have had your fun.” He whispers just before he locks his lips with yours. His arms loop around your torso and toss you over his shoulder. You flair your limbs shouting out him. “I love your attitude, but its time i set it straight.” Your face heats up and flushes a shade of pink. Suddenly your back hits your bed with trevor on top of you. Trevor leans down towards you, eyes not leaving yours. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, placing a kiss while hes there.

“TREVOR YOUR HAIR. IM GONNA KILL YOU ASSHOLE!” You exclaim.

“Shit…” Trevor mutters.

#simplyhughes #nhl #nhl x reader #hockey #fanfiction #trevor zegras #trevor #tz46 #trevor zegras x reader #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #anaheim ducks #simplyhughesblurb

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flamboyantly-incompetent · 3 months ago

Text

HPB, Chapter 6 - Room of Requirement

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: aftermath of Sectumsempra (it's pretty tame but still)

Masterlist

Word Count: ~5,300

Note: it's finally happening

A pop and quick sizzle signaled the imminent arrival of dinner, and a moment later a tray, laden with bread, pumpkin juice, a bowl of stew, and a treacle tart materialized over your legs as you lay in bed in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey managed to mend your collarbone within a few days, but the bruising was more stubborn. After Zacharias’s visit, during which he’d asked no less than five times when you’d be cleared to resume Quidditch practice to gear up for next year, she’d extended your stay out of spite to “monitor” the bruise that painted your chest from shoulder to shoulder.

All told, you weren’t complaining.

You ripped a slice of bread apart and dipped half in the stew, practically salivating.

The door to the hospital wing banged open, and you startled at the noise, cursing quietly at the hot stew splattering your blankets. Hushed voices argued in a hurry; you peeked out from behind the privacy curtains around your bed.

It was Draco Malfoy. And he looked terrible. Worse than usual. Professor Snape drug him over to a bed, where he slouched over, barely conscious. You took an unsteady breath in - his tidy, white shirt was pink with bloodied water.

Madam Pomfrey flitted about around him, preparing various concoctions.

“He needs dittany,” Professor Snape commanded, eerily calm. “Immediately.”

“What happened?” Madam Pomfrey asked, already halfway to her apothecary cabinet.

“He was attacked.” Your heart stuttered, and you almost stepped out into view.

“No!” she gasped.

Professor Snape’s eyes swept over the room, and you ducked back behind the curtain just in time. He said something else you couldn’t hear, and swept back out the door.

You continued to listen intently as Madam Pomfrey prepared the dittany for consumption, and grimaced at the sound of Draco’s incoherent groaning at having to take it. Then, his groaning stopped, and Madam Pomfrey left the hospital wing at a trot.

You took your chance, snuck over to where Draco had been laid, and slipped behind the curtain. He was sleeping now, sort of. But his face had been sliced in several places by something thin and sharp, and the rips in his shirt suggested the same had been done all over his torso. If you had to guess, you’d say he’d been set upon by an unnaturally large bowtruckle.

The dittany seemed to be taking effect quickly, though, and you pulled up a chair to watch as his flesh knit back together over the wounds. You pulled your knees up to your chest and waited, unsure what else to do, but unwilling to return to your own bed.

A clock ticked relentlessly as the minutes passed.

Eventually, the lines marring Draco’s face were only silvery scars, and his eyes fluttered open with a groan. He set his eyes on you and started.

“Sorry!” you blurted, rising from your chair.

He took a shaky breath and sat up. “Merlin’s bloody beard,” he swore, feeling the lines across his cheeks.

“Professor Snape said you’d been attacked.”

“I-“

Before he could answer, a shrill voice wailed down the hallway, “Draco! Don't worry, I’m coming!”

You shared an alarmed look, and as footsteps grew louder just outside, he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him behind the curtain along the wall behind the bed.

The door burst open, and you recognized Pansy Parkinson’s voice as she continued to wail, “Where are you hiding him?”

Madam Pomfrey huffed in behind her. “Please, Miss Parkinson-“

Pansy continued to badger Madam Pomfrey, while you became acutely aware of how close you were standing, looking up at Draco’s face, and the unnerving fact that he had not yet dropped your hand.

He noticed a moment later and released you. With a pleading look, he pressed a finger to his lips and whispered, “Shh.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, but complied. Unsure what to do with your hands, you crossed your arms in front of you. He frowned at your chest; you glanced down, self-conscious. By crossing your arms, the neck of your jumper had puckered. Your bruise was on full display.

His fingertips reached for you, face full of concern, and lightly brushed your skin. You shivered.

“Does that hurt?” he mouthed.

You shook your head.

“What did this?”

The tension in your arms relaxed. “Bludger.”

Pansy and Madam Pomfrey continued to bicker, but you could barely untangle their words amidst the ebb and flow of your pulse that you were sure Draco could hear. There was no denying it, not now that he was here, touching you so casually, gently, even.

His jaw tensed, and his fingertips traced over your collar bone.

You knew you could spend minutes, hours maybe, behind this curtain.

Then, Madam Pomfrey’s tone reached its limit. “Miss Parkinson. Mr. Malfoy is not receiving visitors at the present time. Please, return to your dormitory at once, or I shall have to involve Professor Snape!”

Pansy huffed, and stomped away, declaring, “I know he must want to see me! I’ll be back in the morning, mark my words.” The door slammed shut.

Madam Pomfrey sighed. “You may come out now, both of you. She’s gone.”

Draco followed you out of your hiding place to face Madam Pomfrey, and asked, “How did you know?”

“Please,” she said, waving a hand, “you weren’t in bed, and Miss Y/L/N never came out to observe the spectacle. I am glad you have recovered so quickly, Mr. Malfoy, now kindly lay back down. And Miss Y/L/N, you may return to your own bed for the rest of the night. Do I make myself clear?”

Madam Pomfrey provided Draco with a clean shirt, and put fresh sheets on your bed, grumbling about stew, then locked you in for the night.

Inside your privacy curtains, you couldn’t manage to take more than a few bites of dinner; your stomach squirmed. Once you finished the bread, you gave up, and pulled out your Transfiguration textbook to prepare for your impending O.W.L.

There was a quiet whistling above your bed, and a piece of parchment that had been folded into a bird flapped its paper wings into your lap. You smiled and unfolded it, where Draco had written, “Who was it? Crabbe or Goyle?”

Well, that answered one question. You scribbled back, “Urquhart, actually,” and sent the bird back across the hospital wing.

He sent another bird, which said, “Who won?”

“Who do you think?” you wrote. “It knocked me off my broom, and Summerby’s got butterfingers. Why didn’t you play?”

This time, a thestral alighted on your open textbook. “I was preoccupied, Prefect stuff.”

Now that sounded like a lie if you’d ever heard one, but you didn’t press the issue, and simply replied, “I wish you’d been there.”

Draco didn’t respond for a few moments, during which you considered how difficult it would be to sneak out a window and flee the country. Then, “Me too.”

“Are you gonna tell me what happened to you?”

“I can, but you won’t like it.”

“Why not? Was it someone I know?”

“It was Potter.”

You gasped. “What did you do?”

He tsked from across the room. “Why would you think it was me and not him?”

“Well, was it him?”

“No. I may have attempted to curse him.”

“Draco!” you said aloud, then covered your mouth with your hand. Before you could write a response, a paper dragon appeared that said, “In my defense, he was eavesdropping.”

“And so he sliced you open? I’m sure he didn’t mean to do that. You looked awful.”

“Why is it that you assume the best of him and the worst of me?”

“Am I wrong? And don’t get so jealous, you’re the one-“ You stopped yourself. You’d almost written ‘the one I kissed,’ but neither of you had spoken about it since it happened. “I’m passing notes with like we’re eleven again.”

“Lucky me, and I only have Potter to thank for that.”

You could hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice, and smiled as you wrote back, “And Urquhart. We’ll have to send them fruit baskets.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

“So, who was that? Girlfriend?”

“No. Pansy wishes.”

“Clearly.”

A paper dragonfly flitted around your head. “I should have let you talk about it. I’m going mad trying to figure out what you were going to say.”

“Talk about what?”

“You know what.” Oh, you did. He spelled it out anyway. “The kiss.”

You stifled a groan, and buried your burning cheeks in your blankets, overwhelmingly grateful Draco couldn’t see your face. At least you weren’t the only one still thinking about it. “I’m not sure I knew what I wanted to say then, let alone now,” you wrote back.

“Now now, don’t lie. Tell me.”

“I’ve made an awful mess of things.”

He only responded with a single question mark.

You bit your lip and scribbled, “Well, we’re friends, right?”

“All the evidence seems to suggest it.”

“And friends don’t usually go around snogging each other.”

“I’d hardly call what we did snogging. Was that your first kiss?”

“No! What makes you think that? Was it that bad?”

He snorted, and wrote back, “No, no. Sorry, continue.”

“For goodness sake, you’re really going to make me say it?”

“Y/N. Say what? You’re killing me with the suspense.”

“You’re about to be impossibly smug.”

“Am I?”

You shook the tension out of your hands, preparing yourself for what you had to write. “I kissed you because I wanted to.” Then, much smaller, “I still kind of do.”

You sent the enchanted bird flying with your wand, and pulled your legs against your chest to wait for a response. However he’d respond. But he’d wanted to know. So you’d told him. Merlin’s beard, he was taking a long time to reject you. Or maybe he’d fallen asleep? You padded to the edge of the curtain to peek over, when it was wrenched aside.

“Oh!” you yelped.

Draco had appeared, indeed looking incredibly smug, and without a word slipped an arm around your waist to pull you into him. You melted together as his lips came down upon yours. His mouth tasted like blood and dittany, but you weren’t about to complain.

Then, his wrist brushed a sore point on your bruise and you winched. “Ouch.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled against your lips.

You drew your own hands up his chest, where you must’ve brushed a tender scar, and he hissed.

“Ouch.”

You pulled back and laughed. “Maybe now’s not the best time.”

“I thought you regretted it,” he accused quietly

Still coming out of a bit of shock, cheeks still burning, you looked up at him and asked, “Why would you think that?”

He gave you a look. “You kept apologizing and ran away, what was I supposed to think?”

“Well, why didn’t you tell me?”

“You may recall I kissed you back, I thought that was sufficient given the circumstances. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Herbert may have suggested you’d only been surprised.”

“Herbert should focus on his own feelings for that mu-ggleborn friend of yours. The chaser.”

“Feelings, eh?” you teased, sliding your fingers into his snowy hair.

He rolled his eyes. “Obviously. You’re about to become insufferable aren’t you?”

“No more than you are, I’d bet.”

“Fair enough, now keep your hands where they are. That’s the only part of me that doesn’t hurt.”

The door to the hospital wing banged open once again, and Madam Pomfrey stomped in shouting, “Mr. Malfoy! Are you going to return to your own bed or am I going to have to confine you there?”

Thoroughly chided, you untangled yourselves from each other, apologized to Madam Pomfrey, and retreated to your respective beds.

“Teenagers,” she muttered, before exiting the hospital wing once again.

There was a part of you that felt embarrassed for breaking the rules and being caught, but most of you still crackled with excitement as you tried to stop thinking about what this could mean for you, for Draco, and when you’d get the opportunity to kiss him again.

In the morning, after a night of tossing and turning, Madam Pomfrey came by to check on both of you and pull the curtains back for the day. She gave you a knowing look, and the same one to Draco. It was clear what she meant - she’d be watching for the duration of your stay.

He winked at you from across the room once she went into her office, and you smiled, face burning again. Then he sat up, clearly in pain, and your face fell. You pulled on a pair of slippers and pulled up the chair by his bed.

“Good morning,” he said with a grimace.

“Should I get Madam Pomfrey?”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not so bad when I don’t move. But, listen. Pansy will be back, and if she finds out about this,” he gestured between him and yourself, “she will not hesitate to make your life very difficult.”

“Ah,” you said. “So you’re saying we should keep this a secret.”

“For the time being, I think that’d be best.” You frowned and crossed your arms in front of you, feeling quite small. He saw your expression and clarified, “This will also make my life easier, but it’s ultimately for your benefit. I’d like nothing more than to strut about the castle with you, but…”

You nodded. While he could easily reign in Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini, anyone else from his house may make themselves a problem for you. Not to mention Ginny, or anyone else you knew who’d been in the D.A., and if that friendship was still salvageable you didn’t want to throw it away.

“Okay then, for now. But if this is going to go anywhere,” you said slowly. Draco’s eyebrow quirked. “We can’t hide forever.”

“I know, just give me a little time to figure something out.”

Quick footsteps approached the hospital wing, and you retreated to your bed just as Pansy burst through the doors for the second time in twenty-four hours. You pulled your curtains shut again, and tried to ignore the jealousy roiling in your gut as you listened to her fawn over him.

Once you had been released from the hospital wing, you threw yourself back into deciphering Castle Fortifications in the Medieval Magic Era, and studying for your O.W.L. exams. The Quidditch Cup went to Gryffindor, again, since Ginny had taken Harry’s place as seeker so the latter could complete a mountain of detentions for cursing Draco.

Donna was the only one who noticed immediately that something had gone on between the two of you, and pestered you until you relented.

She looked at you slyly once you confessed. “Their Quidditch captain has been looking rather green at breakfast. I wonder why.”

You rolled her eyes at her back as she retreated, still smirking, but you couldn’t stop the warmth blossoming in your chest. That Draco’s willingness to punish slights on your behalf made your cheeks heat and stomach flip in such a delicious way was something you resolved never to tell him. It’d go right to his head.

Draco himself had been content to milk the concern you had for his recovery, and once his own stay in the hospital wing drew to a close he insisted on resuming your study sessions in the Room of Requirement. They had, in part, become a welcome opportunity to snog each other, since you’d both agreed you wouldn’t on the stairs, or the great hall, or by the lake, or anywhere else someone could catch you. It was the season for snogging, apparently, and on more than one occasion you’d stumbled into the common room with a grin and swollen lips to find Donna and Wanda curled up together by the fire. Rumor had it, Ginny had recently begun dating none other than Harry Potter, but she hadn’t spoken to you since the night of Slughorn’s Party.

Just as the chill lessened from the spring breeze, every fifth-year received an appointment to meet with their head of house for career planning.

Professor Sprout was pleased to see you, and began by asking about your mum’s garden shop.

“It’s doing well,” you said, sitting in her office, watching an enchanted pair of pruning shears go to work on an overgrown vining plant.

“Good, good. Now then, what would you like to be when you grow up?” her eyes twinkled.

“I know I’d like to do something with magical creatures, but I’m not sure what my options are.”

She waved a hand. “There are reserves for dragons, unicorns and the like all over the world. If you wanted a more administrative role, there’s also the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures with the Ministry. I know dragons are a favorite of yours, and they have an entire team dedicated to their study and conservation.”

You nodded. “That sounds good.”

Professor Sprout began writing. “You’ll want Care of Magical Creatures, of course, and Herbology, History of Magic, and Transfiguration - it’s a good thing you’ve been doing extra studying there, I’ve heard from Minerva that you’ve improved significantly. I wouldn’t worry about Astronomy, Arithmancy, or Potions. But, Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts wouldn’t hurt, especially if you’d like to do any field work.”

You nodded again, all of that had been what you expected. “That sounds doable, Professor.”

“Excellent. Now, is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, Professor.”

“Well, then back to studying with you!”

You received your exam schedule shortly after, and while Ernie and Wanda both made efforts to encourage you and the other fifth-years, you approached your first with trepidation.

Draco noticed your falling spirits the next time you met him in the Room of Requirement. He frowned at you over a teapot you’d been trying to vanish.

“You’re distracted.”

You tried again, and the teapot turned transparent so you could see the liquid inside. “What gives you that idea?” He gave you a look. “Fine, my Defense Against the Dark Arts exam is in two days. I’ve barely had time to study for it, and we’ve wasted way too much time snogging.”

He tsked. “’Wasted’ she says. I thought Professor Sprout said you didn’t need that one, and you didn’t learn enough from Potter last year?”

Nerves rolled through your shoulders. “I thought I had,” you confessed, “but I just feel rusty. And she said it wouldn’t hurt. I want to do well.”

“Well, alright then.” He waved his wand and the teapot vanished. You rolled your eyes - show off. The room popped, and suddenly instead of a cozy parlor, you stood on a dueling platform. “Show me what you’ve got.”

You grinned and flourished your wand. “Try not to get too sad when I kick your arse.”

He smirked and raised his eyebrow at you. “In your dreams. Do you know how to duel?”

You bowed low, wand upright at your face. He returned the gesture, and you both settled into a dueling stance.

Before you had a moment to remember you should have a plan, he cast the Disarming charm wordlessly.

“P-Protego!” you stuttered out at the last moment, and countered, “Expelliarmus!”

Draco swelled, pleased, but he was anything but deterred, and continued to outmatch you. He deflected your attack with a wave of his wand.

“Well this isn’t fair,” you remarked. “We haven’t gotten to wordless magic yet.”

“You could give it a try now.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Of course, that’s what makes it fun,” he quipped with a wink.

You laughed, and his distraction worked. Before you understood what was happening, your wand was plucked from your hand by an invisible force and you landed a few feet backwards on your behind.

Draco laughed as he caught your wand. “Point mine.”

Well, that had been impressive. Despite all your bravado, you’d expected to lose, but maybe not quite so decisively. He offered you a hand and pulled you to your feet.

“Let’s go again.”

All told, your O.W.L. examinations had gone about how you’d expected them to. You didn’t hold out much hope for Astronomy, but all of your Transfigurations succeeded within the three attempt limit, and your full bodied wolf patronus served to impress the evaluators for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Which left you with one more problem to solve - the common room. Try as you might, Draco was still being incredibly tight lipped about the whole thing, and you still hadn’t determined how to hide an effective trap in plain sight.

The common room had emptied for the night, and you sat slouched over the great cherry wood table, listening to the roaring fire, watching the candle light get lower and lower as the wax melted. Wilbur curled himself into your lap, and purred contentedly. Idly, you swirled your wand, making the flames undulate.

Then, an idea came to you.

You waved your wand again, and the flames hopped off their wicks and swirled together, spiraling up and up, until pop! A little ball of fire exploded.

Alright, this could work. You lit the candles again and prepared to cast the spell. A simple version should do, just to test it out. Wilbur sniffed and tossed his tail in annoyance when you removed him from your lap, then slunk off to wait for you in bed.

You repeated the incantation over the candle, then over the door to the common room. When you swung it open, the magic triggered, and the candle flared. You ducked just as a bolt of candle light hissed over your head and splattered on the stone wall in the hall. Finally, you were getting somewhere.

Summer term was drawing to a close, and you’d taken to spending most of your evenings in the Room of Requirement. Draco had his head in your lap while you read in companionable silence. The Room had taken its usual shape as a parlor, but the armchairs had slowly been replaced by cushioned benches, and eventually the plushy couches you lounged on now. The fireplace across from you burned low, since the castle had warmed significantly in the summer.

Draco had given up pretending to read, and splayed his book open on his chest. His eyes were closed, and even though he looked more disheveled than usual, his tie loose and off center, the sunken look of them had lessened in the last week. Disheveled wasn’t the right word, he looked like he’d finally gotten a full night’s sleep. The corners of his mouth quirked up.

“So,” he said, eyes still closed, “who was your first kiss then? Should I be jealous?”

You continued reading. “Justin Finch-Fletchley.” Draco snorted. “I went with him to the Yule Ball, we kissed, then I started laughing, and we’ve not spoken about it since.”

“Y/N,” he groaned, smirking, and clutched his chest like you’d wounded him. “You eviscerated him. What is a man without his pride?”

You snapped your book shut. “Oh, like you wouldn’t have brushed it off and been flirting with someone else within the hour.”

He sat up. “Did he do that?”

Your cheeks heated, and you reopened your book. “Maybe.”

Cold silver pressed against your chin as he turned your face towards him. His storm grey eyes bore into you as he said, matter-of-fact, “I would have faked my death and fled the country.”

His eyes held you in a trance with the sincerity of his words. Then, a slow smile crept across your face. “No, you wouldn’t have. You’d have been sulking quietly, plotting your revenge.”

He barked a laugh. “You’re right.” He shifted to throw his right arm over your shoulders. “I wish I’d known you back then. We could’ve gone together instead.”

“We wouldn’t have gone to anything together; you didn’t even like me when we met.”

“I didn’t like anyone when we met,” he corrected. “There’s a difference.”

“Yeah, yeah, ok. There should be another dance next year, think we’ll still be hiding then?”

He frowned and took a deep breath. “I don’t think I’m coming back next year.”

You sat up, out of his grasp, and turned to him. “What? Why not?”

He shifted uncomfortably under your stare. “I won’t need to take any N.E.W.T.s, and… well.”

You were afraid of the answer, but you asked anyway, “What does that mean for us, then?”

“I don’t know,” he said softly, fingers lifting your chin. “It’ll be your sixth year, you’ll be busy.”

“Ah, so it’s my fault then?”

“No,” he snapped, then deflated slightly, desperation creeping into his voice, “but, I’m trying to be realistic here. It’ll be even more difficult to see each other once I’ve left Hogwarts.” You crossed your arms. He had a point. His mouth quirked into a half smile. “Now, don’t tell me you’d wait for me.”

“Would you wait for me?”

He shrugged. “If you asked nicely.”

You took both his hands. “Let’s wait then. What’s one more year?”

He raised his eyebrows at you, pulling you in. “That wasn’t asking.”

You grinned. “No, it wasn’t,” you said before putting your lips on his.

He hummed and sucked your bottom lip into his mouth. Heat ignited between you, and you drew your hands up his arms, aiming for his neck, when your fingers brushed over his forearms and he jerked away from you.

He leapt from the couch, barely avoiding the low table between it and the fireplace.

You reached for him instinctively. “Did I hit a scar? I thought they’d all healed.”

“No, no,” he said, shaky.

“Let me see.”

“No,” he said forcefully.

You leaned away from him, surprised, “But, Draco if you’re still hurt you should see Madam Pomfrey.”

“Drop it, Y/N.”

Something in your gut twisted, and you asked, “Why?”

“Why?”

“Why?” you repeated. He blinked at you, anger mixed with something else knitting his eyebrows together. “Why won’t you show me your arm?” You stood, noting with frustration he stood between you and the door. But not between you and your wand.

He tracked the movements of your eyes and sighed. “Go ahead.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re going to want it. Your wand.”

Your eyebrows narrowed, and you angled towards your bag, plucking your wand from where it stuck out of the top. As Draco rolled up his left sleeve, you felt your stomach fall to your feet.

A dark tattoo had been branded into his pale skin. A Dark Mark.

Your pulse pounded in your ears, and you raised your wand.

Draco’s hands came up in surrender. He spoke calmly, “I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”

You laughed mirthlessly, “So you planned to tell me, then? Are you planning to tell Dumbledore?”

“No, and you can’t either.”

“Why not? You have to know, if you let me live, that’s where I’m going.”

“Y/N, I’m not going to hurt you. Just listen-“

“Did you curse Katie Bell?”

“Huh?”

“Did you. Curse. Katie Bell?”

He waffled. “Technically.”

“Shit. I defended you, you arsehole! And now Ginny won’t even speak to me.”

“You’re better off without that Weasley anyway.”

You stamped your foot, furious. “She’s my friend! At least, she was, before you had to go cursing people!”

“I know how it looks, but I have only been trying to keep you safe.”

You blinked. “’Keep me safe’? You are a Death Eater. You are what I need to be kept safe from!”

“I know, I know, just. Will you stop talking and listen to me, please?”

The Room around you faded quickly, torn between your need to escape and Draco’s need to keep you here, and soon it became a void of white walls, a white floor, and a single door behind Draco’s back. The absence of the fireplace set you to shivering, and your breath came in short bursts as you reeled. He was unarmed, you could take him. Until he got his hands on his wand, which he would, and then you were done for.

You cursed your own stupidity over and over. That you’d let him touch you, kiss you, into your home, where you’d unleashed him on everyone you loved. Who all remained suspiciously uncursed and alive. Unless he’d placed them under the Imperious Curse.

You lowered your wand an inch. “Start talking,” you said coldly.

“He has my mother.”

“Who?”

“Who do you think?”

“Oh. I thought she-“

He shook his head. “Once my father was thrown in Azkaban, the Dark Lord saw his opportunity, and he took it.” He laughed bitterly. “All this time, the Ministry’s been hunting for him, and he’s been right under their noses.”

“At Malfoy Manor.” He nodded. “And without your father there…”

“He’s as bad as a rabid dog. He bites anything that moves, friend or foe.”

“The peacock feather?”

“A reminder of the cost of disobedience,” he spat. “I’ve been given a task I’m meant to fail, punishment for my father’s shortcomings. But I’m not going to fail.”

“Dumbledore could help you.”

He gave you a look. “I’ve taken every opportunity, given him every hint I could think, and the old man hasn’t spoken to me once. Dumbledore can’t save me.” His brow softened into something like sadness. “Neither can you. But I can keep you out of the crossfire, and I plan to.”

“What have you done?”

He shook his head. “You know I can’t tell you.”

“You asked me to fortify the common room, you’ve known what’s coming this whole time because you bring it with you, is that it?”

“Yes. I know you think you can’t trust me, but you can.”

“Just tell me, and it’d better be the truth, whose side you’re on.”

He stepped towards you, hands still up. “I am on your side. I will be on whichever side I need to be to get us both out of this mess alive.”

“I’ll need you to prove it.”

He nodded. “Anything.”

You poked your head into the common room. Yvette looked up from her place on the sofa where she’d been polishing the handle of her broomstick. She quirked an eyebrow at you. You waved her over.

“What?” she whispered.

“Can you get everyone out of the common room but us?”

“Uh,” she waffled, scanning over the groups of second and first years trading chocolate frog cards and playing gobstones. “Sure, give me a sec.” She approached the first group. “Oi! Go enjoy the sunshine you loafers, yeah I’m talking to you, get lost!” They filed out of the common room past you and where Draco had hidden himself in the shadows beside the casks.

Herbert looked up quizzically as you came in, Draco just behind.

“Hey, Malfoy,” he said slowly. “What’s up with you two?”

“Don’t freak out.”

“That’s usually what people say right before they do something that makes me want to freak out.”

“Yeah, I know.” You pointed at the fireplace. “Draco, if you would.”

You readied your wand. You’d have to time this right.

As he rolled up his sleeve, Herbert’s eyes narrowed. He moved protectively towards Yvette.

You looked at him and said, firm, “I know what I’m doing.”

Donna and Yvette shared a look, but said nothing as you cast the spell on the fireplace, then on the Dark Mark, then on the door. When you uttered the last incantation, and the spell was fully cast, the fireplace undulated as if from a strong wind.

“Time to go,” Draco said, yanking his sleeve back down. You followed him out of the common room quickly, before the spell could loose a fireball. “Be ready, be safe, don’t leave the common room more than you have to.”

You nodded. “Don’t do anything too stupid.”

He smirked, then pecked your cheek before disappearing down the hallway.

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#draco malfoy #draco x hufflepuff!reader #harry potter #draco x reader #slow burn #fluff #half blood prince #it's finally happening #the slow burn is burning #hecking finally

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