#even if we weren’t in that environment it’s still messed up. but given where we are it’s even worse 😭😭😭

[isuruu]

I think I’m getting sick AGAIN!!!!

[blxckchxrrybxby]

6 Months In Advance

summary: In the midst of sorting out a scheduling mishap, your daughter wanders away from you and makes her way up to HR.

pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Reader + Reader’s Daughter

warning(s): idek; mentions doctor? Scoliosis?

a/n: dude, I didn't revise this at all. Just brain vomit.

Six months.

That’s how far in advance you had planned for this appointment.

It was written in your planner, saved as a reminder on your phone, and circled in red ink on the calendar hanging in your cubicle. Yet, with barely an hour to spare, you found yourself in the main lobby of Kineros Robotics instead; demanding to speak with the men you worked for. The same men who were responsible for fucking up your work schedule and threatening to fire you on the spot if you didn’t come in.

You frowned, pacing as you checked the time anxiously. They couldn’t possibly fire you for a mistake on their behalf. You were more than 99% positive that you had taken this day off as soon as you were given the job. Hell, you had even mentioned it to them before an offer letter was—well—offered!

“Mommy?” Your daughter whispered, interrupting your thoughts with curiosity twinkling in her eyes. She took in the large building that seemed never-ending.

“Yes, sweet pea?” You replied gently (certain to make sure the stress you emitted wouldn’t be absorbed by your own innocent offspring).

“Where are we?” Her doe eyes were far too busy scanning the environment to pay any attention to you—causing you to let out a chuckle.

“At my job. I just need to talk to some friends really quick then we’ll be on our way.”

She nodded, accepting your words, and stared in astonishment at how different the world inside this building looked to her. It was nothing like the world in your cramped apartment. That world was far too small to compare, but her favorite stuffed animals resided there—so it was home. The building was nothing like the one where you dropped her off at to learn her ABC’s either. It was full of big people and not enough kids. Peering at the environment, her heart sunk at the sudden revelation—this place didn’t even have toys!

Despite how impressive this adult world was, it would never impress her more than recess.  

“Uh…why are you here? And why aren’t you two at the doctor’s?” Your coworker (and only friend) asked after spotting you. Their shoes tapped faintly against the floor as they walked closer; holding their arms out to retrieve the bundled-up 5-year-old perched on your hip.

You looked at them with stress evident on your face, “Jeff and Mutt messed up the timesheet.”

They gasped, now holding the child securely against their own hip, “You’re joking.”

“If I were joking, I wouldn’t be standing right here, now would I?” You scoffed at the reality of your situation as your friend shook their head.

“The nerve of those two. On today of all days!”

You nodded, rubbing at your face. Before being granted the chance to respond, the receptionist informed you that Jeff and Mutt were ready to speak with you.

“Thanks, Marcy.” You replied politely and went to grab your daughter before your friend swatted your hand away. Your eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“You’re stressing enough. Just go talk to them. I’ll keep Willow safe and show her around since she seems so… intrigued.”

You both looked at your daughter, who was still eyeing every little detail of the building and chuckled.

“Fine. I’ll come to find you guys when I’m done.” You quickly leaned in and pressed a kiss to Willow’s cheek before scurrying to go see Jeff and Mutt.

Watching you disappear into the elevator, Willow was carried away from the main lobby. As time passed, she met many unfamiliar faces. Most of which slid peppermints into her small hands when y/f/n wasn’t looking, in the hopes of befriending the tiny human. After seeing most of the people on the first floor, Willow grew curious about what other adventures the building held.

Perhaps the top floors weren’t meant for children. Maybe goblins stomped all around guarding their treasures. Or maybe they were full of queens and kings, and the workers were the peasants! As her imagination grew wilder, Willow found herself itching to explore. Squirming in the uncomfortable office chair, she pouted at y/f/n.

“What’s wrong?” They asked, noticing how much your daughter was fidgeting.

“I have to potty.” Willow whined, coming up with the perfect excuse.

They blinked, “Oh, um. Okay... do you remember where the bathroom is at?”

Willow nodded and slid off the chair.

“When you’re done, come right back. I’ll be here waiting, okay?”

Again, Willow nodded before darting off. After passing the bathroom and sneaking past Marcy, Willow made her way onto the elevator. She grinned, pulling out a peppermint and shoving it into her mouth, before slamming her hand against one of the highest numbers. Willow giggled, enjoying the feeling of the elevator moving. It felt like she was on a rollercoaster, and it made her tummy feel funny. Maybe this place was better than recess!

Hearing a ding, the elevator doors opened, and out stepped Willow; instantly bumping into a pair of long legs. With a small, “oof!” her hands managed to grasp onto some fabric. A hesitant hand pressed against her back to keep her balance. Out of curiosity, Willow glanced to the side to see a cane, then glanced up as a woman dressed in purple stared down in slight shock.

“And who are you?”

Willow blinked, gently letting go of the stranger’s skirt, and adjusting her lavender glasses. Tilting her head, she observed as much of the woman as she could. Since the woman wore purple, Willow figured she must be the queen. Purple was for royalty, after all. However, Willow wasn’t naïve. Not all queens are good, she reminded herself.

“I shouldn’t talk to strangers.”

Wilhemina arched an eyebrow, smoothing down her skirt, “Neither should I. Yet here we are.” Huffing to herself, she looked around at her trembling assistant and the empty floor before shaking her head. “Follow me.”

As the queen, and trembling girl of whom Willow assumed to be her servant, began to walk away, Willow remained still; unsure of if she should follow the stranger. Noticing the only footsteps that could be heard were her own, Wilhemina halted and glanced back at the frozen child.

“Are you hard of hearing?”

Willow gnawed at her lip nervously and asked innocently, “…are you taking me to the dungeon?”

“Dun- Excuse me?” Wilhemina asked, more confused than she already was.

“You’re the queen, right?”

Wilhemina’s shock wore off and she chuckled, recognizing how wild the child’s imagination was. “Well, that’s one way to put it. Unfortunately, I don’t get paid enough to own a dungeon…yet. Now, come along before I abandon you in this hallway.” Scurrying after them, Willow grinned happily.

-

Standing in the stranger’s office, Willow looked up at the tall woman as she entered the room. “Do you have candy?”

Venable walked past the child and sat in her chair, “Even if I did, would your parents let you have it this early in the morning?”

Willow shrugged, “I only have one mommy.”

Venable took note of this; Mentally scanning through the employees in her head to guess whom this child could belong to. “Well, would your mother let you?”

Willow paused in thought, “No?”

“Alright then.”

-

As time passed, Wilhemina allowed Willow to get settled until her mother showed up to retrieve her. Alerts were sent out to inform the staff of a misplaced entity with two missing front teeth, now in her possession. Now, all Wilhemina had to do was wait for the culprit to show up at her office door. However, this was taking longer than Venable thought it would and the minor was oddly quiet. Especially considering she didn’t have any objects to keep children tame.

The anxiety of not knowing what the child was doing caused Venable to peer over her purple laptop and observe the little germ sitting on her lovely lavender couch (a fine touch and new addition to her workspace). She wasn’t used to the unpredictability of children. However, to her surprise, the little girl was already staring at her with a crossword book open on her petite lap. Venable furrowed her eyebrows as the curly-haired child adjusted her purple glasses back onto the bridge of her small nose. This little stunt warmed her heart to no end, yet she’d never admit it.

“Can I help you with something?” Venable asked, finally breaking the awkward silence.

The little girl shrugged and continued to stare.

Lowering her glasses, she sighed. “I’m assuming your mother has yet to teach you that staring is rude.”

“I wouldn’t stare if you were not pretty.” Willow stated plainly.

Venable tensed and cleared her throat. “You know nothing about what society sees as pretty.”

Willow frowned, “I don’t know who so-so-“

“Society.”

“-socility-“

“Try again. So-cie-ty.” Venable stated, slowing down her enunciation.

“-socie…um.” Willow tried.

“Take your time.”

“…s-society?”

“Correct.” Venable held back a smile. Willow didn’t. She was proud of her accomplishment. A new word she could tell her friends about.

“I don’t know who…society is, but I think you’re pretty.”

“Well.” Venable began, choosing to keep her insecurities to herself. “I suppose I should thank you.”

“Mommy says you don’t have to always say thank you when people tell you nice things.”

“That’s a bit rude, don’t you think?” Venable questioned, becoming more invested in the conversation than she would like to admit.

“No.” Willow stated bluntly.

“No?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” Venable arched an eyebrow, trying to piece together who the child’s mother could be.

“Ms. Benavle?”

Venable internally cringed from the mispronunciation. “Yes, child?”

Willow shifted, turning her body towards the awaiting woman, “What does society mean?”

-

Minutes continued to pass as Venable watched over the child. At first, she assumed the little brat was a prodigy, highlighting words at lightning speed in the crossword book. Then, after watching the page become consumed in purple highlighter, her assumptions were tossed out of the window. The child merely enjoyed coloring.

A slight knock caught her attention, breaking her out of the trance she was in. Perhaps it was the child’s mother.

“Come in,” Wilhemina called out, watching in disappointment as her intern opened the door.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Ms. Venable. Um, I just had a f-few more questions about the t-time off requests you wanted me to finish-“

Now standing from her desk and approaching the intern as if she were prey, Venable sneered.

“I understand that you are mediocre at best and the tasks assigned to you may be tedious—however—I can assure you that it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to complete them. Now, as you can see, I am with child.” Her hand barely outstretched to point towards Willow, “Go be stupid somewhere else. Preferably on the first floor.”

As the intern scurried out of the office, Willow grimaced and crossed her arms at the tall lady. Venable glanced in her direction and arched an eyebrow, “What?”

“You shouldn’t say bad words.”

With a scoff, Wilhemina retreated back to her desk, “Last I checked, I didn’t.”

“Yuhuh, you just did.”

As her ungloved fingers rubbed at the throbbing temple, she hoped to rid herself of the headache that resided in her head and on the couch across from her.

“And what word was it, exactly?”

Willow blinked; eyes widening in surprise. “You’re letting me say it? Mommy said I shouldn’t say it.”

This caused Venable to snort in amusement. After catching her reaction, she cleared her throat. How odd. “How else will I know what I’ve said unless you tell me?”

Looking around, in case it was a trap, Willow swiftly ran up to Venable, stood on her tippy toes to reach her ear, and whispered, “…stupid.”

Wilhemina closed her eyes for a moment, trying to comprehend how she managed to end up in a situation such as this.

-

As the clock neared Venable’s first break and the child remained in her ownership, she sighed.

“Tell me something, little one.”

Venable’s sudden conversation caught Willow’s attention, causing her to perk up in curiosity.

“Why exactly are you here?”

Willow shrugged and looked down at her hands, “I don’t know. I was going to see the doctor, but mommy came here.”

Wilhemina hummed to herself, trying to piece together why the child had been roaming the building unattended. “An appointment, you say?” She looked through her emails, feeling a hint of deja vu. Something about this was vaguely familiar.

“Yes. I get a new brace today!” This caused Venable to arch an eyebrow, “Hopefully it’s purple like this one! Want to see?” Venable remained silent as the child began to unzip her bubble coat. As she shimmied it off of her petite shoulders, the back brace came into view, launching Venable into a state of paralyzation. “See? It’s very pretty.”

She knew this felt familiar. This was Willow. As HR, Venable was well aware of the subordinates and their beneficiaries. She was also aware of any time off requests submitted. Within the past year, Kineros had onboarded so many new faces that she ignored or denied at least 70% of the time off requests within the first week. It was either you work or you find another place to pay your bills. However, some of the accruing requests must have slipped through her fingers. Something she rarely ever fell victim to. Especially after reading something as detailed as Willow’s mother’s.

“Hello? Ms. Benavle?”

Wilhemina blinked; hearing Willow capture her attention once more. She quickly searched through her files and found the denied time-off request. The only issue was, she didn’t remember denying it. Clicking on the document, it slowly brought up the pdf, showing that it had been stamped with her credentials; meaning she didn’t formally sign it.

Her intern did.

“Shit!” She groaned.

Willow gasped, “Bad word!”

Ignoring her and standing from the chair, Venable quickly made her way toward the door. “Follow me.”

Willow quickly grabbed her coat and followed along, “Where are we going?”

Walking with intention as her cane collided firmly with the floor, Wilhemina pressed the elevator button, “To find your mother.”

-

As the elevator opened to the ground floor and Venable stood with a cane in one hand and Willow’s hand in the other, they both descended into the lobby. You and your friend scurried around, panicking at the fact that there was a lost five-year-old in the building. “How in the hell did you lose her?!”

“She’s sneaky!” your friend retorted.

“She’s five!” you fumed.

Venable arched an eyebrow and held Willow close, before clearing her throat.

 Your friend gasped, seeing Willow with Venable, as did you.

“Oh God, Willow! Baby, where were you??” You worried, as she ran over to you and gave you a hug. Rubbing her back, you sighed in relief.

“With me.” Venable interrupted, “May I have a word with you, y/n?”

You nodded, picking Willow up in your arms, and walked away with Venable.

“I am beyond sorry for everything that’s happened. I swear, this will never happen again, Ms. Venable.”

“Why not?” Venable inquired.

You paused, unsure of how to continue—so she did. “This, no matter how unusual it was, was entirely my fault.” You remained silent and equally dumbfounded. “I extend an apology to both you and Willow. It seems my stupid-“ Willow glared causing Venable to clear her throat, “My incompetent intern did not know better and denied your request. I remembered it. Not that it matters, as it’s potentially too late. However, I understand how difficult it is to get an appointment for these kinds of things. If you would like… I have a doctor who would be more than ecstatic to treat Willow as soon as possible.”

You remained silent. At a complete loss for words.

“As fond as I am of silence, I believe a conversation must include two willing parties.”

Willow nudged you, helping you come back to your senses as Venable awaited a response. “I… I’d love that. However, I’d prefer it now… Um, they informed me that since I’m refusing to work today, this is grounds for termination.”

“Nonsense,” Venable stated, completely unphased. “I will have a word with those two imbeciles, and you needn’t worry about a thing.”

You nodded with a slight blush adorning your cheeks as Willow squirmed from your arms and made her way over to Venable, hugging her legs, “I’ll miss you Ms. Benavle.”

With a chuckle, Wilhemina caressed the child’s head. “I will miss you as well, Willow.” Sliding a piece of peppermint out of her pocket, she handed it to Willow with the whisper of a smile adorning her lips. “Come back and visit whenever.”

[mr-clow]

Kal’Hal notes on a human ship. Part 2:

Laffite woke up a few moments earlier than her alarm told her to. She rolled around the bed for a while, thinking about yesterday's events and stretching her torso. She felt the air going out between her ribs. Kal’Hals had evolved from an aquatic world, and they could breathe water or air, their gills having evolved into pseudo lungs, their hands with palmed fingers and a powerful tail connected where humans would have legs. Her big blue eyes with no white to sight, something that humans had and still looked weird to her, panned the room, and she saw a small package on the floor in front of the door. She unrolled her tail and with the full length of it she reached the box and put it on her bed…

I opened the box, inside the first I saw was a colourful paper with some kind of human animal that was saying get well soon. I looked kinda cute, but I didn’t get any reference if there was any and Mag had signed it. Below I found a card with a clip attached to a paper that explained that is a long term sensor to check the radiation received and that humans use it when they work in radioactive environments (They really work in radioactive places!) and also below there were some pills. The paper explained that it was something humans used in case they got poisoned, but I should check if Potassium Iodide was bad for my health, something even I didn’t know. Below all that I found a small device that I recognized, it was a radiation sensor. Maggie really tried and I was glad.

I had met humans before, even if a lot of other species treated them as wild dangerous creatures, Kal’Hal knew better. Both species had an early relationship and for more than a thousand human cycles they had been supporting each other. Humans could be extremely loyal given the same treatment, and that didn’t include their pack bond. I have never been included in a human pack, but some people said that there was no safer place in the universe than being included and surrounded by a human pack. I wondered if this box was only a form of respect, or if it was a sign that they had started to include me in their pack.

After that, I took the time to moisturise my skin and change my clothes, my world was way more humid than earth and I needed to keep myself healthy. After that I took the things from the box, read the instructions again and searched about those pills on my way to the mess hall.

When I reached the mess hall my face was showing quite the concern, those pills could shut down several of my organs, technically I had a blister of poison in my hand. Maggie waved a hand, she was having breakfast with Bill who was in charge of the engineering department, Rose and Raúl, both of them colleagues also from the same department. I waved back, took a tray and served myself some food. Most leaves from the human world, some processed seeds and various teas were fit for my consumption, so I chose peppermint tea and a light salad. Most humans wouldn’t eat this at this hour, but the cook knew my taste, so I gave him a nod and an imitation of a smile, he smiled back, and I went to sit with Maggie.

Maggie asked how I was, and I explained that I still felt uncomfortable, but I was willing to give it a try and thank her for all the things she got me. Bill explained that everyone room in the engineering department had helped and that they had asked in the Med bay for the pills. My face turned with worry and Raúl asked what happened. I took the time to explain that iodine was poisonous to a lot of species and turned back the pills. They apologised, and then the conversation turned to other things from work, and I felt relaxed. Maybe they were starting to include me in their pack.

I went back to help Maggie assemble the reactor we were working on the last day. The job hasn’t advanced too much, but I noticed some tools that weren’t here yesterday. “Maggie, why did you bring all this?” While I checked a welding equipment that I haven’t seen before. “Yesterday, after I left the box in your room, I came back here and checked all the boltholes and filled the ones that had more diameter than they should. You shouldn’t worry any more for this” Her face had a smile but with an expression I didn’t knew. “Thanks Maggie, I appreciate all this. Anyways the sensor you gave me didn’t go off even in here, so I’m starting to feel more secure” I took the sensor from my belt and showed it to her. “Ehhh Laff, I don’t want to scare you, but you checked that it was set to your standards? It is really sensitive, but you have to program it” I looked at her, then at the sensor, and it was true, the threshold was set to 1mSv, lower than a human needs it but higher than I was comfortable. I changed it and when I pressed OK the sensor went off automatically. I looked at her worried and she took my hand and led me outside. “How low did you set it, Laff?” She asked with a worried look on her face. “Not too low, only 0.01mSv” and she put the same smile from before, “Oh hon, that won't do. Why don’t you try 0.4mSv at least, remember what I said yesterday. Earth is slightly radioactive, humans are, and this ship also is human made. Nobody got hurt before with even more than that, so let's try that.” I nodded slowly, I didn’t like it, but I knew she was right and changed the alarm. It stopped, and I exhaled, she took my hand again, and slowly we went inside the room, it didn’t sound again.

All that day I was distracted, but Maggie chatted as usual, and she gave me some simpler tasks, so I could entertain myself. At the end of the shift I went out to the mess hall with Maggie and when we sat down I looked at her and Bill “Yesterday you told me that humans knew how much radiation makes you sick, it’s that true?” Bill and Maggie looked at me with a serious face. Bill took a breath to start speaking, but Maggie spoke first. “Look Laff, we are not proud of explaining this to you, but I consider you my friend and I think it is fair to explain you some of our history”

[wonderingwanderingsworld]

I am thinking today about a time before I transitioned when I was friends with another trans guy. We were both sex workers at the time. He took a trip to NYC and invited me to come with him. I was so excited to go, but also worried. He knew I had an on and off crush on him. I was poly but he was monogamous. I brought that up and said I was worried about being in a sexually charged environment with him and didn’t want to wind up having anything happen that would accidentally cross his boundaries. He assured me he would allow no such thing to happen, and off we went. We had a great time, spent time chatting on the rooftop and dawn, and I got to meet a bunch of other great folks. One night after a party we were both drunk. Everyone else had left and I started getting ready to go to bed. He asked me if I wanted a massage. I knew what that really meant and said yes, even though I knew it wasn’t ok. Massage of course escalated into other things. We pushed each other around in a boyish way that was so intoxicating to me at the time. I felt like he saw me for who I was, at a time where that was vanishingly rare. We messed around and had a sort of energetic sex. I know I would have done more if I’d felt more confident about trans bodies, but I felt like if I asked it would have broken the spell and we would have stopped. The next day I was so hyped. I was in an abusive relationship at the time and wanted this to be my ticket out of there. I wanted us to run away together, fuck and stay in hotels on the road until we were whole and healed. He, on the other hand, wanted this to never happen again, or so he said. I wound up telling my husband about it, who at that point seemed like he couldn’t give two fucks about me. He didn’t care. But my friend’s mood significantly darkened when we discussed him telling his wife. Under no circumstances did he want that to happen. He became quite upset at the idea that I might tell her, which I did eventually, long after they split up. Over the ensuing months he told me about the various escapades he had with cis men, jerking some guy off on the dance floor at a gay bar, hooking up with another in his car. He told me that these were ok but hooking up with friends was not. He lied a lot so looking back I have no idea if that was true. I still longed for us to be together.

I feel extra weird about that night. Like, it feels rapey. We discussed that something like that could happen, that I didn’t feel comfortable with it given his relationship agreements, and then once we were drunk he initiated it. Did I want it?? Hell yes. For a long time it stood out as a singular time in which someone sexually interacted with me in a way that I felt seen, though later he denied even that. Internalized homophobia probably. But the rapey part, I don’t know what to do with that and it’s just sort of lingered there. I am writing because somehow I would like to put it to rest. But how?

There’s no question he took advantage of me. It feels so much like a power move - cross my boundaries, see if he can get me to say yes so his ego can get some strokes in. It doesn’t even matter what we do, just that I would be willing to do it. Then discard me and fake innocence.

He was the one that arranged the party. Then suggested the “massage” when everyone was gone. Wondering now what would have happened if I said “no.” Would he have accepted that or pressed on? Gotten aggressive? It tells me a lot that I am even asking those questions. It definitely felt like a power move.

I am remembering now too that his wife didn’t like me. She didn’t stop us from being friends but I think she knew in a way that I didn’t understand at the time that we weren’t really friends, that I was more like his side bitch. But I didn’t feel that way. I felt like we were bros, that he saw me, and that sometimes there would be these gay little sparks that were allowed to fly as long as they weren’t named. UGGGGGHHHHHH. I had another trans guy tell me years later it sounded like he was on the down-low. Yeah pretty much huh.

Ok so rapey. How can it be rape if I wanted it. How can it be rape when I don’t even recall him taking his clothes off. How can it be rape when it was gender affirming. How can it be rape when the next morning I wanted more, and was sad he didn’t want that. It doesn’t make sense.

Thinking now what I would say if someone else shared this with me. I would say, sounds like rape to me. Just because you’re attracted to someone doesn’t mean they can’t rape you. Just because you desire sex with someone but don’t want to follow through for xyz reasons doesn’t mean they can’t rape you. He literally waited until I was drunk and we were alone to cross my boundary. That’s gross.

But the other part of me is like yeah, that’s gross, but is it rape?

I would say to someone else, hey. If it doesn’t feel ok for you to call it that, you don’t have to. How does it land in your body now?

I feel a twisting and a sense of disgust. Less violated and more taken advantage of. Like I thought we were actual friends and he just wanted another pawn to play with. How sad. I have been used in this way a number of times. I don’t want that energy in my life any more.

Now I feel like flicking him off of me, like an insect. Just annoying. Which I did do eventually. I take pride in that I sat down with him and told him he had a lying heart. He was a good looking guy but wasn’t loyal to anyone except himself. I’m glad to not have him in my life anymore. I hardly ever think of him except for this still lingering question. I would really like to put it to bed.

Right now I think that I can’t. All I can say is that at minimum that interaction feels gross, that I feel taken advantage of, and that I’m glad he’s no longer around me. I don’t think he’s in any way a sincere person and I’m so glad he’s not in my life. I don’t wish him anything except distance.

I’m annoyed I can’t do more to get rid of this. But thankful for the space to air it out. This still bothers me and maybe I can own that I have a right to that. That feels better.

I am thinking that I don’t want to feel empowered or validated anymore by this gross situation. That I wanna release. I also wanna ponder more on how I have more room for men I consider good looking or desirable to harm me, like my self worth is so low I feel like I wouldn’t deserve intimacy with them otherwise. Yuck.

[cryoaquila]

spin the bottle pt. 3

prompt: you play spin the bottle, part 3. pairings: albedo x gn!reader, mona x gn!reader, keqing x gn!reader  word count: ~1.5k tags: kissing, very suggestive themes, light teasing a/n: you can find part one here and part two here!

minors dni.

you spin the bottle at a party. it lands on...

albedo

he wasn’t even paying attention. instead, he had a pen and notebook and was sketching something. you tap his arm to get him to notice the bottle.

“oh right, the game,” he replies simply before leaning toward you, giving you a small peck on the cheek before going back to his drawing.

wait, what? you weren’t expecting a small peck like that. no way, you wanted more of a kiss than that from such a cute guy! you whine and pout, uncaring how selfish you were sounding - you wanted a kiss on the lips from him and you were going to get it!

he can’t hide his little smirk and snicker, “oh you were hoping for more? how interesting.” he closes his notebook, taking your chin in his hands as he looks at you with a gleam in his eyes, “i guess i’ll give you what you want then, greedy little thing.”

now that he got his results from a little peck on the cheek, it was time to get results from a longer, more passionate kiss. he leans in to initiate but stops before your lips meet, analyzing your expression. you scowl, pressing your lips to his and he chuckles at your impatience.

he hums against you, eyes watching you carefully as he slips his tongue into your mouth. his taste, well, you can’t quite put your finger on it, it’s a very intricate taste that you’ve never had in your mouth before.

his tongue prods around, exploring every little inch of what it was given, and you couldn’t help but wonder if his tongue would do the same in... other areas.

when the kiss finishes, he flips to a new page in his notebook, writing something.

“what are you writing down?” you can’t help but wonder out loud.

“your reaction to kissing and how naughty you are, wanting more.” you felt your cheeks heat up, but he wasn’t wrong, you did want a kiss on the lips. yet, you still wanted more than that with the thought of his tongue exploring your body still on your mind...

after the game finishes, he shows you his notebook and what he was working on. it’s a drawing of you. 

he says as soon as he laid eyes on you he couldn’t help but draw you for you were far too beautiful to not be a part of his sketchbook. you blusha at the kind sentiment and tell him you enjoyed his kiss, even the little bit of teasing that was involved.

he chuckles, saying he enjoyed the kissing experiment you both partook in as well. he added in a low tone that he wouldn’t mind conducting more experiments later with you, but fewer clothes would be required for what he had in mind. you know. for science.

you would never do something to harm the progress of science so of course you quickly agree to his request.

you don’t even recall how many experiments you end up helping him with that night in his room.

mona

mona recites something about how the stars showed her that when you spun the bottle it would pick her but that kissing you wouldn’t be a good idea because of your conflicting signs along with other excuses including, “the stars. can’t do it. not today.”

but when she glances at you and sees your saddened look she quickly stammers over her words before admitting defeat and agreeing to the kiss. she looks very embarrassed, her cheeks turning red and her hands, which were resting on her lap, were clenched into fists. 

feeling bad for her, you decide to only give her a small kiss and move on, but when you try to pull away she pushes forward, locking your lips once more in a sloppy, wet kiss.

you’ve never had a messier kiss. your lips would part to allow her inside your mouth and then she’d let you into hers, both of you eager for a taste. gasps of air were the only other sound besides a few soft, muffled moans as neither you nor she would let the other pull away.

eventually, you both end up on the floor, her on top of you. she ran a hand through your hair as you wrap your hands around her waist before bringing them down to her ass for a squeeze, causing her to smirk against your mouth.

finally, you end the kiss, the need for oxygen too grand, a string of saliva still connecting you both before it broke. that’s when you realize the other two that agreed to play had left you and her alone.

well, now that the game was apparently over, you ask if she’d like to leave and get some better food elsewhere together.

she looks a little sad suddenly and mutters that she doesn’t have any money on her.

you pause for a moment, taken by surprise, and you tell her that her company is more than any amount of money and that you’d pay for her and she didn’t have to worry about paying you back.

she suddenly looks like she’s about to burst into tears from your offer. you worry that you were too forward.

she jumps off you and, before you even realize what’s happening, she starts dragging you by your hand out of the party, talking about what food she’s going to order.

while out eating she admits that she was really lying earlier and the readings she conducted said you and her would meet at the party and be completely compatible and a perfect match but she was nervous since she hadn’t kissed nor been with anyone in a long time.

she then starts talking about tomorrow’s date, which you hadn’t even realized was happening until now. 

she says she’s glad the stars like you because she’s enjoying her time with you a lot.

and you’re glad both she and the stars like you, too.

keqing

the fact she’s even at the party still boggles everyone’s mind since her high-profile job never allowed her any free time. yet here she was, a rare break in her schedule allowing her to attend.

but you noticed she didn’t seem very comfortable in such a setting. a few times she tried to recite rules to the partygoers, things like you can’t be too loud after a certain time and how it’s important to not leave litter lying about, etc. this caused them to whisper behind her back in quiet mocks. she was actually about to leave before you asked her to play spin the bottle, and she decided a quick party game before she left would be alright for memories.

as the bottle comes to a stop, pointing towards her, a shocked expression crosses her face before she glances away, her cheeks pinkening. 

little did you know, she had already planned exactly how the kiss would go should the bottle land on her. she knew what she would do, right down to her hand position and tongue placement. she had seen others make out before and read books a few times involving couples, so she felt confident.

she doesn’t waste any time, per usual for her since she’s so efficient. 

she takes your hand in hers and pulls you toward her, your lips crashing together.

but, as soon as your lips touch a little shock zaps you both, causing you to yank back in surprise. she bites the bottom of her lip, wide-eyed.

the stress of the party and the many, many people, all surprised by her appearance, all watching her, talking about her, along with the kiss not ending up how she wanted, all of it causes her confident façade to crumble. her lip quivers as she mumbles an apology, upset that, since she’s arrived, all she’s done is mess things up. she tries to leave, but you take her hand in yours and ask her to not go just yet, that’d you miss her company. 

she pauses for a moment before sitting back down, hiding her face in her hands.

you gently rub the tight, overworked muscles in the back of her neck, and she looks at you with appreciation. your hand slides to the side of her face where you caress her, your thumb gently wiping away a few tears. she was so beautiful, even with such a sorrowful look.

she sniffs, still smiling, and asks in a quiet tone, “can we try again?”

the second time around, everything went right. the kiss was just a small, sweet kiss, yet it was special in its own, simple way.

once your lips part from each other, she presses her forehead against yours happily and the crazy environment surrounding you two seems to disappear for a few moments.

afterward, she rests her head on your shoulder and you wrap an arm around her. you two stay like that for a while, the sounds of the chaotic party dulled by the comfort of one another.

“want to come see the work i do for the city tomorrow?” she asks you.

“sure, i’m free. is it... a date?”

she smiles up at you with a flushed expression but doesn’t answer you. guess you’d just have to wait and see what tomorrow brought.

[aggravatetheaxe]

BO SINCLAIR X TRANS MAN / MAN ALIGNED READER COMING OUT - Pt. 1 - Under Your Skin

This title is SAFE FOR WORK. Pt. 2, Over the Moon, will be NSFW. I'll link that here when it's written!

You met Bo while you were still presenting as a woman. Suffice to say things have changed, and you can't keep your secret from him any longer. You have no choice but to tell him or leave ... but what if he makes you leave anyway?

CW: descriptions of dysphoria that get very intense, deadnaming/misgendering, mentions of murder and mortal peril, it's 2005 and Bo is from the south so just be advised it's not all fluff and rainbows (but there is payoff, this isn't straight angst, it's just a journey)

Soundtrack: x

Words: 4,175

Part Two

Masterlist

***

Your shoulders were stiff. Your throat was dry. Your leg was bouncing, the only thing you could do to release the nervous energy juttering through your body.

You were going to tell him.

You'd put it off for months now, not quite sure how to say the words. Then, when you'd arranged them in your head, fear had kept you from saying them out loud. But you couldn't wait anymore. You couldn't live like this any longer.

You'd been hiding the secret for too long. Every time Bo called you by your birth name or made some quip about you being his girl, your heart shriveled just a little more. It had gotten to the point where you didn't even want compliments from him ... you didn't want to talk. You didn't even really want to sleep with him, didn't like to think about him looking at you as a woman during sex.

He didn't know, of course. But that almost made it worse. He couldn't stop hurting you and you couldn't yell at him for it. It was always the same: you lost control, you got frustrated, wouldn't tell him why, he'd get frustrated, you'd fight ... it was a mess. You knew all that was putting a strain on your relationship.

So it had to be tonight.

It had to be tonight.

You had everything planned. You'd already gone into town with Lester and picked up some stuff for a nice dinner; there was a fresh, cold six-pack of Bud in the fridge; and Rocky III was sitting in the VHS player, ready to go. Once he was relaxed, you'd talk to him.

You'd convinced yourself so fully that you'd stick to the plan that when you heard his truck pull up and your heart leapt into your throat, you nearly cried. Fuck, not again. Not another night. You were supposed to be stronger than this.

Stomping boots on the porch. You heard the door swing open from the kitchen. "I'm home."

He didn't sound like he was in a particularly good mood, but it didn't sound like a bad one, either. That was good news, at least. Things must have gone okay down at the shop. "I'm in here!" you called back.

Bo appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, tracking a little gravel into the house as always. He leaned against the doorframe with one hand on his hip, gesturing with his chin. "Hey, sugar. What you got there?"

You looked down at the meal you were plating. "I thought I'd try a pot roast? I dunno. I don't think it came out very good, but I guess we'll see."

He didn't say anything. You glanced over your tense shoulder to see him simply staring at you, like he was trying to read your thoughts. You could sense the gears in his head turning behind those clever blue eyes of his. He knew there was something wrong; you were guarded.

For a moment, you thought he might say something. That familiar little bit of irritation was beginning to creep into his face, right around his neck and jaw. But after a few seconds, he simply said, "A'right," and straightened. "M'gonna go change."

"'Kay." As he stomped up the stairs, you finished getting the food ready and brought the plates to the living room. Bo usually ate at the table—"I ain't a savage"—but you could tell he liked eating on the couch. It was like a special treat. And clearly, you were short on charm at the moment, so you'd have to use your environment to your advantage.

You pulled up two tray tables and set the food down, then fetched the beer. By the time everything was set up, Bo was coming back down the stairs.

Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to look at him. He was wearing jeans and a red flannel, sleeves rolled up. At this point, he didn't care about you seeing his scars. You hardly noticed them anymore.

He came closer and slowed to a stop, forehead wrinkling as he eyed your set-up. "What's all this about?"

"I was thinking dinner and a movie." You paused. "I thought Rocky might get the taste of my cooking out of your mouth."

You succeeded in making him laugh a little, crow's feet crinkling, but as he took a step closer, his smile faded. "Did you do somethin'? Is somethin' broken?" He glanced quickly, running his gaze over the clutter his parents had left behind.

"Nothing's wrong," you reassured him quickly, stepping back into his line of sight in the hopes of distracting him. "I just thought, you know, we could have a nice night. Like ... romantic?"

He stared at you for a moment. Then, his gaze lit, a toothy smile appearing. "Romantic, huh? Well hell, sweetie, why didn't ya say so?"

He clearly thought you meant sex. In fact, the way he was looking at you, you thought he'd jump you right up against the pool table if you let him. Your dysphoria made sex so unbearable that you'd been avoiding it when you could lately, and you were sure he missed it.

You were lucky he hadn't gotten mean yet. You guessed that was a testament to how much he must like you. But who knew if he'd like you after tonight?

Quickly, you shoved a beer into his hand, redirecting his attention as you slid onto the couch and clicked play. He slid into place beside you, relaxing back with his legs spread.

You both picked at your food—you because you were way too nervous to eat, and him because ... well, you assumed it was because he was waiting for you to initiate the "romance." He did eventually finish his meal, though, complimenting you with one of his "So good, baby"s and a boozy kiss.

The movie droned on, and eventually, he wrapped an arm around you. As he did, you relaxed, if only a little. You wanted to settle into him ... you wanted it more than anything in the world. You did love him. But who did he love? The woman he thought he was putting his arm around wasn't you.

"What's wrong?" His tone was firm and sudden after such a long stretch of silence.

You blinked at him. "Nothing."

He wasn't buying it, and he didn't look impressed. "There's no point in lyin'a me, darlin'. I know when somethin' ain't right." Then, with a little edge to his voice, "You know I get pissed when you brush me off."

"I'm just..." You sighed, setting your beer aside and rubbing your forehead. "I'm just tired, that's all."

"Let's go to bed, then." In one fluid motion, he stood and turned off the TV. "Hope you're not too tired," he added quietly.

It was equal parts insult, warning, and come-on, and it exhausted you as much as it panicked you. You weren't ready to tell him just yet. You'd figured you still had a few hours, but ... well, if you pissed him off now, all this nice set-dressing had been for nothing. Then you'd either have to tell him while he was in a bad mood or spend another night as someone you weren't.

Biting back a sigh, you stood, too. He was waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs, and let you go up first.

"Nice view from back here," he said smoothly. "Almost wanna tell you to start runnin'."

Shit. You needed an excuse to buy yourself a little time. "Can you shower first?"

You knew the question ticked him off because he didn't answer it. He followed you to your shared room, grabbed a towel, and left for the bathroom in heated silence.

The shower would make him feel better. It always did. He'd scald himself like he liked, then come out much calmer. Hopefully. You changed and took your place in bed, sitting under the blankets with your pillow propping you up. Waiting.

You were wrong about the calm. When he came back into the bedroom—red-skinned and completely naked, towel occupied in his hair—he was scowling at the floor. You waited for him to yell. It was inevitable.

When he did finally say something, his tone was quieter than you imagined, though simmering. "Why are you doin' this to me?"

You didn't respond, mostly because you had no idea which this he was talking about.

"Hurts my pride, y'know." He began toweling his body. Rather roughly, you noticed. "My girl don't wanna fuck me. You know how that feels as a man? You think I wanna have to— hurt you?"

A pause. "Bo..."

"Am I gonna have to get it somewhere else? Fuck, Deadname."

You shrank in bed. That name made you feel rotten to the core. It was like poison slowly choking your veins. You had to do this ... but you couldn't. But you had to.

Bo was unaware of the war going on inside of you as he turned, leaning against the dresser, arms back to clutch the edge. "Is it someone else?" You could tell he was murderous just thinking about that possibility, gaze aflame, jaw clenched so hard you thought he might break teeth. "Is it Vincent?"

"What? No!" Why he'd think that when you'd only ever expressed mild concern for Vincent's well-being, you had no idea. "There's no one else, Bo, I just—"

"Then what's a matter with you, huh?" He raised his voice. "Am I too rough, am I too— Jesus Christ, you gotta at least tell me what the damage is!"

Your conflicting emotions threatened to overwhelm you. You yelled back, "It's not you!"

"Then what the hell is it?!"

"It's me!"

He opened his mouth to shout back, but only managed, "What in the f—" before he lost steam, searching your face helplessly. Something about the way you looked must have given him pause. You meant what you said. Desperately, desperately. It was you. You were the problem.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low, glare pointed. "You been off all night. Hell"—one of those incredulous laughs that betrayed his genuine anger—"you been off for a while. Least you can do is tell me what the fuck is goin' on."

He was right. No turning back now. You took a deep, grounding breath. "Okay."

A moment of hesitation. Did you want him close or across the room like that, just in case? Eventually, you decided you needed him close. You patted the bed beside you.

Bo grabbed a pair of boxer-briefs, stepping into them on his way over. His expression was still twisted sourly, but you could sense him relax as he sat in bed next to you. He didn't meet your eye, simply looking down at the sheets. Beneath the anger, a begrudging expectation simmered. Did he think you were going to break things off?

That thought spurred you into taking his hand, squeezing lightly. "I love you so fucking much."

He glanced to the side. At length, he mumbled, "You, too."

You took another deep breath, trying to keep your voice from shaking. "There's something I haven't told you about me. And it's really been stressing me out lately. That's why I've been acting so weird." When he didn't reply, you continued, "It's been making it ... hard to be close to you. I don't like the way lying to you makes me feel, and I've been ... scared, so fucking scared, Bo."

He glanced at you again, brows drawn, this time with confusion rather than anger. "So what is it? What the hell can be so big an' important that you can't stand bein' around me?" A pause. "I mean shit, Deadname, you know I kill people for a livin'. My fucked up twin turns 'em into wax. You know about the fuckin' dungeon—what could be bigger'n that?"

That fucking name. You couldn't take it anymore. Your voice cracked as you whispered, "You need to stop calling me Deadname."

"What? Why?" He frowned deeply. "That's your name, ain't it?"

"It's not the name I want to be called."

You could almost hear the gears in his head turning as he tried to figure out what was going on. "Okay ... so it ain't your real name. Why you goin' around using a fake name?" His gaze turned flinty and cold. "You're a cop."

"No!" You held up your hands. "No, I didn't lie about who I was, not ... not in the way you're thinking. I was born with that name; everything I've told you about my life and where I came from, all those things were true. I never lied about any of that."

"Then what is it?" He was getting angry again. "Spit it out!"

Well, since he asked... "I don't want to use that name because ... it's a woman's name. And I'm not a woman. I'm a man."

Bo stared for a few seconds, then scanned you up and down once. His shoulders slumped, just slightly. "You were ... born a man? Then how come your name—"

"No, no." You pursed your lips, taking his hand hesitantly again. "I was ... I guess for simplicity's sake you could say I was born a girl. I was born with a vagina, I developed breasts and started my period naturally. But I'm not a girl. Like, in my head. In my brain, I'm actually a man."

He didn't believe you. You could see it in his face. But you weren't planning on giving up that easily. You knew what he'd be thinking; you'd planned this whole thing out so carefully, chosen your words so precisely.

"It's not ... a delusion or anything. It's actually more common than people think. It's called being transgender. When you're born one gender but you want to be another."

He frowned, obviously completely lost. He wasn't getting it. He just didn't fucking understand. And you were growing desperate.

"Bo." Your throat was raw, tears threatening your eyes. "Every time you call me your girl, or you refer to me as a woman, or you use that name ... I fucking hate it. It hurts. It hurts so goddamn bad to know you're not seeing the real me. It makes me not see the real me. I look in the mirror and I just want to ... tear my skin off. Sometimes I just wanna take a knife and— and fix me. Cut out whatever part of me makes it hurt so bad. I just want to be seen as who I am so bad."

"Okay." You didn't like the way he was looking at you, but the anguish in your voice had at least moved him to speak. You could see in his eyes that he was working overtime to puzzle this out. "So, what? What're you gonna do? What's it mean for us?"

"Well..." You had to break eye contact, staring down at his hand. "What I'd like to do is start living as a man. You know, dressing like a man—which I already pretty much do—going by a different name, maybe cutting my hair. You could call me 'he' ... I might even get medicine later on down the line, like hormones, to make me look squarer. Maybe even surgery."

"You gonna get a dick?" The almost mocking tone of his voice made you want to shrivel up and die. He seemed to pick up on the change in your body immediately and shifted his tone. "I'm askin'."

"No, that's not a thing. But I'm gonna be a man regardless." Finally, you released his hand, though you still couldn't look at him. "What that means for us is ... up to you, I guess. It'd mean you were dating a guy. I mean, you have been this whole time—"

"I didn't fucking know," he cut in firmly.

A jolt of fear lanced your heart. "I know. That's my fault; I didn't tell you. I was ... scared."

"Scared of what?" he pressed, tone growing aggressive.

"I don't know. Of you being mad. Or not loving me anymore." You glanced up. "I love you. Seriously, I do. More than anything. I still want to be with you, just ... as a man."

There was silence. A horrible, stretching, heavy silence that made you want to hang your head and cry. After a while, Bo rose from bed, going to the dresser and pulling on jeans and a T-shirt, all in that silence.

Was he ... leaving you? No, he wouldn't leave his own house, he'd make you leave. Or kill you. But he certainly wasn't opening his arms to you. Waves of sadness crashed over your chest, so intense you thought you'd throw up.

He seemed to contemplate the dresser for an extended period. Then, he glanced over his shoulder, just barely. "I need ta' think."

And with that, he was out the door. He didn't come back to bed that night. The next morning, you found his pillow on the couch.

***

Vincent was next on your list of people to tell. It turned out he was a big help, bigger than you could have ever realized he would be. You had to explain yourself, but he took it in stride, calling you by your new chosen name and even helping you come up with a sign for it.

« Did you tell Bo? » he eventually asked you.

"I told him last night." Your eyes were still puffy and red from your night alone, and the morning following it. You still hadn't seen him, but you could hear music blaring from the garage, so you at least knew where he was.

« How did he take it? »

"He isn't speaking to me."

Vincent paused. His wax face was blank as always, but you could tell he was considering something. « Did he yell? »

"No ... he just said he would think about it."

A low grunt, and Vincent nodded. « Then let him think. »

And he did think. He thought about it every night from then on. You could see him thinking during meal times, when you brought him lunch down at the shop, when he was watching TV. You noticed him zoning out in the middle of reading sometimes: paperback crunched and folded in one hand, other hand pressed to his grim mouth, those blue eyes glassy and staring at nothing. Thinking.

He hardly ever spoke to you outside of necessary communication. Before bed, he told you goodnight, but it was ... heavy. He didn't roll over to touch you or hold you anymore. The distance was yawning and heartbreaking, especially when you were alone. The silence was so pregnant with unsaid words and all his damn thoughts.

You wanted to ask if he was mad, but you didn't dare. He didn't seem mad, and you knew a thing or two about his moods. This seemed ... different. So you simply didn't say anything.

And then, one day...

"Hey, handsome."

His voice practically made you jump out of your skin. You, Vincent, and Bo—and sometimes Lester—divided who would have to go into the houses in Ambrose to dust and clean, and today was your day. He'd snuck up on you in the middle of oiling some of the rigs like he'd taught you.

"Uh. Hey." You managed a hasty smile, uncertain you'd actually heard him call you what you thought he had. "What're you doing here?" After a week of him barely speaking to you, it seemed odd that he'd start now.

Bo took a few steps in, looking away and reaching to fiddle with a knick-knack on a nearby side table. "Just thought I'd come check up on you. You are my, uh ... boyfriend, after all."

You stopped dead in the middle of spraying WD-40, staring over your shoulder. What?

When he felt you staring, he lifted his gaze. There was an uncertainty there, discomfort, along with a challenge. "What?"

"Nothing." You turned back to your work. After a few seconds, you added, "Thank you."

He didn't respond, but he eventually sidled up to you, surveying your work. "Not half bad. Yeah, you're doin' real good." He reached up to adjust his hat, and you could feel his gaze on you. "We'll make a man outta you yet."

You couldn't help it—your face burned. "Girls can maintain machinery, too, Bo."

"Yeah, I know that, but you—" An edge of irritation entered his voice. "Now you're just confusin' me."

You set down the WD-40 and turned, searching his face. By god, he really was trying, wasn't he? It was almost cute how bad he was at it, but he was trying. Vincent had been right.

"You never asked my name," you eventually muttered.

"Vincent told me it. Y/N." He said it again, rolling it around on his tongue. "Y/N ... in'erestin' choice. I guess it suits ya." A pause, and he lowered his voice. "Gonna take me some gettin' used to."

"That's okay," you said quickly. "As long as you're trying."

"Yeah, well..." Bo paused before reaching out, brushing his fingers through your hair. "Gonna miss all this."

You leaned into his hand. "I might not cut it. I haven't decided yet."

He grunted, continuing to brush his fingers through your hair. You could see his expression drift back to that thoughtfulness you'd gotten used to seeing. Eventually, he said, "Guess this makes me gay."

He sounded so begrudging and yet so decisive that you almost laughed in his face. Thankfully, you were able to bite back your reaction. "You don't have to be. You can be whatever you want. But ... if you stayed with me, it would mean you were attracted to at least one man, yeah."

"Fine." He pursed his lips, huffing through his nose. "Bi-sexual or whatever."

"You don't have to put a label on it right now. You've got time." You hesitated before taking his large hands in yours, bringing them to cup your jaw. "This ... you know ... it isn't something that has to happen overnight. I'm not asking that. It's a process for both of us ... a lot to get used to for both of us."

"Sure the hell is." He scoffed and shoved his hat up his forehead, scratching his hairline. "Now I want you to tell me somethin'. Why were you so damn scared of tellin' me?"

You took a breath. "I mean ... Bo."

"What?"

"I'm in the south ... alone, no family ... in a town where you could kill me if I pissed you off and no one would ever know." He made a face, but you pressed: "You know where I come from. Things are dangerous there, and things around here are even—"

"You think just 'cause you're in the country folks are gonna treat you different?" He sounded offended.

"Bo," you said again. "Let's not kid ourselves. How many guys do you know who would beat my ass if they found out? If they found out I liked other men, even."

"Couple assholes. But they ain't gonna bother you with me around. B'sides, plenty a' gays around here, like any other place ... they're just drillin' and weldin' and workin' the factories." He fixed you with a look. "Country don't mean stupid."

"Did you just quote The Stand?"

"No," he said hastily, taking his hat off and shoving it in the back pocket of his Dickies. "All I'm sayin' is ... I'm not some dumb animal."

Your shoulders sank, heart softening. "I know you're not, baby. But you have been known to, y'know, murder people. You can understand why I was scared, can't you?"

His mouth twitched, but reluctantly, he mumbled, "Yeah, I guess." A pause. "I can't promise I won't never hurt you, Deadn— Y/N. I know I can be real careless with my words on occasion. But I won't kill ya. Don' know if I could reconcile that shame. And, uh ... I love you."

Your heart swelled, and you leaned forward, hugging him tightly around the middle. It wasn't long until you felt his strong, warm arms enfold you in return, one hand tangling in your hair. His heartbeat was steady and comforting beneath your head, and the heat radiating from him relaxed every muscle in your body.

The two of you stayed that way for a while, hugging tightly while the TV droned in the background. Eventually, he shifted and spoke, his voice rumbling deliciously against you.

"Now if you don't mind," Bo started casually before dropping into a purr, "I'd like a kiss from my handsome lover."

You couldn't help but grin up at him. "You sure?"

"Lay it on me, big boy."

Maybe you were evil for loving him despite it all. Maybe you were complicit. Those weren't your judgments to make. But as you craned your neck to kiss him and euphoria exploded through your chest, you knew one thing for certain:

You were you.

***

Part Two

Masterlist

Tip Jar

[diamond-coral]

The Heist- Part Two

Steve x Reader Chapter Summary: Steve sees you working at a club. Now Steve wants you...and he’ll have you.

Series Warnings: dark, rape/non-con, kidnapping, stripper themes, swearing, crime

Chapter Warnings: male masturbation, swearing, stripper themes, kidnapping, crime, mild violence, threats of rape/non-con, creepy crazy stevo

Steve had begrudgingly went to the strip club with Bucky and Sam because, as Sam said, ‘Modern women are somethin’ else compared to the 1940’s.’. Bucky was much more enthusiastic to see how much things had changed as a once been ladies’ man from the 40’s even if it meant having to go with Sam who bickered with him every five minutes. And while Bucky’s enthusiasm remained as they entered the club, the blaring music, flashing lights, and women in skimpy outfits had Steve remaining unimpressed.

Until he saw you.

You weren’t on the stage but rather talking to a coworker in the back of the room, a tray of drinks in one hand and a smile on your face that could light up a room. An honest, genuine smile that stood out in a room filled with nothing but empty sultry smiles given by dancers. Your coworker said something, and you threw your head back and let out a laugh that Steve could’ve sworn he had heard ringing all the way across the club over the blaring music.

You were perfect.

While you were still scantily clad in nothing but a light pink shimmery sheer top that showed your bra perfectly cupping your breasts, a pair of barely their black shorts, and black heels that had his eyes dragging up and down your legs, your demeanor and posture was more relaxed, and that’s what he loved. You weren’t sticking your tits out in front of you or pushing your ass back, but were rather slouched a little, eyes shimmering with excitement as you talked. What Steve saw of you was raw and authentic, and he loved it.

Sam’s voice interrupted Steve from his daydreaming, and Steve shot him a look of irritation causing Sam to raise his hands in defense.

“Woah there loverboy,” Sam chuckled. “I was just gonna suggest, you should ask for a dance from that girl you’re ogling over.”

“And before you go over and court her with your righteousness and whisk her away to waltz like prince charming, he means a lapdance, punk,” Bucky says while taking a sip of his drink.

“I- I was’t ogling,” Steve sputtered, but let out a sigh of defeat at Sam’s raised eyebrow. “I’m not gonna ask for a lapdance. Besides, she seems to be just waiting tables. I wouldn’t wanna interrupt-”

“You’re hopeless,” Sam teased as he brought his fingers to his mouth to let out a shrill cab whistle. You turned, and Sam caught your attention, beckoning you over with two fingers.

“Hiya fellas,” you said, and Steve frowned a little at the sultry voice you put on. “What can I help you with?”

“Just another round of drinks, sugar. Oh- and-” Sam leaned to whisper something in your ear and Steve noticed your eyes widening a little before your gaze snapped to him, a small smile on your painted lips.

“Of course,” you responded to Sam. “I’ll be back with your drinks shortly.”

As you turned to leave, Steve frowned at Sam. “What did you tell her,” he asked.

“Oh nothing much. Just mentioned that THE Captain America was looking for a little bit of fun tonight.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a groan. “Sam you dumbass.”

“Hey, he’s doing more about it than you,” Bucky interjected. “Sometimes it’s just sad watching you when you just sit and do - oh shit here she’s comes.”

“Alright, and I’ve got another round of drinks,” you said cheerfully while distributing the glasses. “And you, Mr. Rogers…” You sat on one of Steve’s thick thighs while placing your hands on the collar of his button up shirt and smoothing it down. “You’re friend told me you’re lookin’ for something… special tonight?”

Steve’s throat was dry and he was sure you could feel his heart practically beating out of his chest. “Oh well...I um-I.”

“What Mr. Womanizer would like to say is that he accepts your offer,” Sam offered, and Steve shot him what was probably the one-hundredth dirty look of the night.

“Well then.” You got off his lap and tugged on his arm. “I’d be happy to oblige.”

________________________________________________________________

Half an hour later, Steve returned a mess. The first few buttons of button up were undone, his hair was tousled, his cheeks flushed, and his heart hadn’t stopped racing.

“Good time?” Bucky inquired with a smirk.

Steve could barely form any words other than ‘where’s Sam’ to which Bucky pointed to the crowd of sweaty dancing bodies where Sam was shamelessly grinding on some woman.

“Oh God, I need a drink.” Steve fixed his hair with one hand while the other dipped into his pocket to retrieve a flask of Asgardian liquor Thor had given him.

“Was she that good?” 

“Well yes, but it wasn’t just the dance. It was her,”  Steve answered while burying his face in his hands. He felt like the scrawny kid from Brooklyn again. Completely flustered as he chased after a girl totally out of his league. “I don’t know Buck, she’s just-she’s just perfect.”

“Stevie, look around you. Every woman here is practically perfect. And they’re goddesses. That girl is just a girl.”

“No it’s just- you don’t understand. She’s just…” Steve let out an exasperated sigh and Bucky’s eyes softened.

“Wow you really like her don’t ya?” Steve just nodded in reply. “Well what if we came back again when she’s working?”

“No that wouldn’t work,” Steve said. “But...I think I have an idea.”

“And am I involved in this idea at all?”

“Maybe.” Steve laughed at his friend who groaned.

Steve then continued to explain his plan. He pointed out the coworker you had been friendly with when he first saw you, and asked Bucky to get some information out of her since he was the less recognizable out of the two. Steve needed to see you again. Not just that...he needed you. You were just so perfect for him, and Steve knew that the moment he laid eyes on you. The genuineness of your smile and laugh, just the way you were so authentic amidst your surroundings just showed you didn’t really belong in this environment or even this time period of imitation and phonies. But you belonged with him. And he’d preserve that authenticity. 

Bucky just simply nodded, and at first Steve was nervous that his best friend was going to call him crazy, but after a bit, Bucky got up and snatched Steve’s flask while flashing him a grin.

“Bout time we got you a girl, huh pal?”

Steve sighed in relief, and as Bucky trotted off, he went to find Sam.

Steve explained to Sam that he was gonna go home while Bucky worked some “wingman magic” and Sam started letting out fits of laughter at how THE Captain America was ‘down bad’. 

Finally, after Sam had finally calmed down, he wished him goodbye and headed home.

He had some things to take care of.

________________________________________________________________

As Steve guided his hand up and down his shaft, all he could think about was you.

Your tits, your ass that had ground on his crotch at the club, your red lips around he imagined on his cock. You’d probably use your skilled hands as well, not being able to fit his entire member into your mouth. 

Steve’s thoughts didn’t stop there.

He thought about how your hips moved while in the private dance room. He thought about how although you were undeniably sexy, you were also so kind to him, once in a while asking if everything was okay and if he wanted anything else from you. He thought about how you simply smiled and let out your angelic laugh as Steve fumbled and stuttered, simply putting your hands over his and telling him everything was okay and he could sit back and relax, not having to take charge after a long day of commanding people. The light pink color of your lingerie was so beautifully innocent as your body moved lewdly in contrast. And he loved it.

Steve came with a shout to the image ingrained in his mind.

________________________________________________________________

A few minutes after Steve had cleaned up and taken a much needed cold shower, he received a call from Bucky.

“You’re right,” Bucky’s voice spoke through the phone. “Two drops of that Asgardian shit and she was completely mentally clocked out. Told me everything about your girl.” 

As Bucky told Steve your name, Steve tried it out on his tongue for himself.

“Also told me a little bit of a little side job they got goin on. Your girl’s a bit of a criminal, Stevie. Sure you still want her?”

“I’m sure she has her reasons.”

“Well you’re right in that actually. According to...Bella-yeah I think that’s her name-,” Bucky recounted. “They steal from people to pay for rent and art school. And I just so happened to tell her about some skeevy old timer government worker who happened to be loaded from scamming low income taxpayers. Who also happens to live at your address.”

“Wait, you want her to rob me?!” Steve exclaimed.

“Will you just let me finish?” Bucky took Steve’s silence as an opportunity to continue. “I told Bella no one would be home while your girl does the job, but obviously you’ll be home so she can’t get away. She’s literally coming to you on a silver platter pal. Could it get any better than that?”

Steve took a moment to consider the situation before replying. “You’re right. Thanks pal. I really owe you one.”

Bucky chuckled. “Well I got one hell of a blow job so I’ll say we’re almost even. Anyway, she’ll be comin in a week, so that’ll give you plenty of time to prepare.”

_______________________________________________________________

You awoke slowly to sunlight streaming through your apartment window, your bed feeling more comfortable than usual, and a warm arm wrapped around your-

What the hell?

Your body thrashed as you jolted awake and flung yourself away from the body next to you in the bed that very much wasn’t yours in the apartment that was always not yours. Steve Rogers just sat up on his elbows and gave a groggy smile at your frazzled state.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.”

You recalled your memory, trying to see if this was some sort of drunken hookup, and it all came back to you. The heist, him coming home early.

“Didn’t mother ever tell you stealing is wrong?” were the words he had said before he had grabbed your hair in an iron grip and smashed your head on the near coffee table. Everything was black after that.

“Oh my God...you,” you began to back away from him.

“I what, sweetheart?” he mused. “Last time I checked, this is my apartment, and you were the one breaking and entering.”

You scrambled backwards off the bed, but just as you were about to reach the bedroom door, something cold and hard pulled against your ankle causing you to topple face first onto his carpet. Turning your head, you observed a metal cuff secured around your ankle with a chain leading back to the foot of the bed. 

Steve used the time you took panicking and hyperventilating to get out of bed and leisurely stretch his arms as if this was a normal occurrence. He approached you cautiously as if you were a wild animal and bent down to softly cup your face with a large hand.

“It’s okay, doll, I didn’t hurt you. Just let you sleep a bit before I caught you up to speed today.”

“Did- did you…,” you sniffled at the thought of what that man could’ve done to you while you slept.

“No. God no!” You nerves calmed a little bit as you were reassured that America’s hero was still the gentlemanly golden boy you met at the club. That was before he tilted your chin to meet his sinister gaze. “I wanted our first time to be while you were awake.”

Your heart dropped. This man was crazy.

You began to frantically yank at the chain on your ankle and your breathing became shorter.

“Hey. Hey! Stop it!” he urged before grabbing both of your hands and holding them in a steel grip. “Listen. I know this is all..new...but you need me. And I need you. When I saw you at the club, you were just so perfect. You’re not like those other women. You don’t belong there. You don’t belong in this life. I can take care of you. I will take care of you.” A tear slipped from your eye at his words but he just brushed it away with his thumb and continued. “You just don’t understand yet. When I saw you, I just knew you were meant for me. You’re perfect, doll.”

All you did was stare at him in disbelief and mutter, “You’re crazy.”

He went to soothe you again and brush a lock of hair away from your face, but you thrashed and said it louder.

“You’re crazy, you’re fucking crazy!”

“Doll, you don’t understand. I love you. And you’ll love me. I promise just give it some time and-”

“No you’re deranged. You’re FUCKING DELIRIOUS!!” you screech as your hand shot out and slapped him across the cheek.

The room went dead silent. You froze, and so did he. You had just slapped Steve Rogers across the face. You slapped the pure muscle mass six foot super soldier and called him delirious, and he looked hurt. His face was painted with a heartbroken look of regret, disbelief, and sorrow. But not from the slap. It’s like your words had hit him like a ten-ton truck, and for a second you saw doubt flicker across his eyes as if realizing that everything he imagined was in his head. And in that doubt was your hope. Your hope that this man would come to his senses and let you go.

“Steve...please, you have to realize this is wrong,” you said softly as he gave you a broken look. In that look you saw the scrawny kid from Brooklyn in the 1940s who only knew rejection, and your heart broke just a little bit. “What you’re feeling...it isn’t love.”

All of a sudden his demeanor changed. Any doubt in his eyes was wiped away in a nanosecond and replaced by a fierce look of determination. His face contorted into a snarl as he yanked you up with him by your hair and spun you around to press your front against the well.

“You dumb bitch,” he growled into your ear. “You think you don't need me when you’re a pathetic thief who whores herself out every night.”

You writhed in his hold but he just gripped your hair harder and let out a breathy laugh.

“You know...for someone like you to stoop so low as to work at that club...it makes me think. You wanna be treated like a whore?” he seethed. “Fine. I’ll treat you like a whore.”

a/n: don’t worry I don’t think working at a strip club is “low” at all. just some classic sexist bs from our good old 1940′s fav

[sepublic]

The fact that the Dark Hunter Poison didn’t know how to use his powers until Nidhiki taught him is rather concerning... Given that Poison is the survivor of a genocide on his species, it implies that he was very young when that happened; So young that he didn’t get the chance to learn his powers from his peers, before they were all wiped out.

Suddenly I have to wonder if Poison is even necessarily dumb like the Shadowed One muses, or just. Mentally and developmentally a really angry and feral child; Sure, ‘children’ don’t exist in the Matoran Universe, but the biomechanicals have some concept of youth, and teachers exist. Poison must’ve barely been created before his society was slain by the Matoran. He and his species were legitimately believed to just be animals, so being treated by any Matoran he encountered would just further discourage any development on Poison’s end, and maybe keep him from even realizing he’s a person like these other people.

We know Poison roamed on his own for a while before attacking a village and being recruited, but still; This suggests that the Dark Hunters were pretty much his first and only ‘friends’, or rather social interactions where people weren’t actively trying to kill Poison. Even if he’d grown to be ‘adult-aged’ by biomechanical standards, characters like Nidhiki and the Shadowed One could’ve still been incredibly formative influences for Poison.

His loyalty is joked by the Shadowed One to be a result of Poison being too dumb to think for himself... But honestly, I’m starting to get the vibes that he’s basically a stunted kid in a grownup’s body (if his body even IS grown up) who has been taught a familiar tune and been conditioned to obediently repeat it. Poison probably just doesn’t know any better and who could blame him; You can’t say his anger against the Matoran was all that manipulated, given they DID legitimate wipe out his people. Anyone would feel rage, and righteously at that; Poison did so before he met the Dark Hunters.

Anyhow, Poison might essentially be a really violent teenager who was never raised in a social environment whatsoever, and has no idea how to control his volatile impulses or process his emotions properly; Especially since he’s been living on his own and nurturing a massive traumatic event without any guidance. He was dehumanized and assumed as a literal animal, which would definitely mess up Poison’s self-perception of himself and how he relates to others, if growing up like this was how he was conditioned by society.

It’s no wonder he can’t think much, because Poison’s never been given the stimulation nor even realized his capabilities. He has basically no social experience whatsoever and is developmentally stunted, and the people who are helping him catch up are murderers and criminals who seek to exploit Poison for all his worth; Not that he’s likely to have much self-worth either, given the aforementioned dehumanization.

Despite this, an emotionally-starved person like himself is of course going to devote himself towards this ‘family’ of fellow outcasts and rejects, and Poison blindly praises the Shadowed One because it’s what little anyone has every taught him his entire life, and it’s not like he can know any better. It’s the most nurturing he’s ever gotten, so of course Poison is going to accept anything to fill that void in his heart. He’s basically a feral child, a spiritually a child soldier who imprinted on the Shadowed One of all people, because he’s been in want of actual mentors and family his entire life; And Poison can’t think for himself because he’s never actually been taught how to, nor does he have enough social experience to contradict what the Dark Hunters have filled his head with.

And when these people show you guidance, kindness, and mercy when everyone else has displayed cruelty and murder... Can you blame Poison for thinking of his side as the ‘good guys’, when they’ve been the only ones to actually acknowledge him as a person? When he has no frame of reference for what he’s even supposed to be like, because everyone else is dead and any culture they had was never taught to Poison, making him feel like even more of an outcast and anomaly who doesn’t belong? Did he even know he could talk before he met the Dark Hunters?! In the end, if there’s a list of anyone in Bionicle who absolutely deserves to go utterly apeshit; Poison is up there.

[ateezmakemeweep]

you’re the one that i want (part 25)

word count: 5k

fluff

(part 24) (series masterlist)

almost every summer of your life, you spent at the beach.

and while you loved it each and every year, a place that served as a safe space you always so desperately needed, a part of you also knew it wasn’t a choice.

you came here because your parents sent you, because they didn’t want you with them and you didn’t have anywhere else to go. 

you’d spent those years feeling completely unwanted and terrified of everyone and everything; thinking at any given moment, someone was gonna hurt you. that no one cared about your thoughts or feelings or even your existence.

and you’d grown used to that mentality for so long. you were sad and hurt and just living day to day with that knowledge because what else could you do?

but now, you don’t even get the chance to think like that. because you have so many people around you as a reminder that you’re not alone anymore. 

you have your aunt who, from day one, you always knew was there for you. 

you have yunho and san who served as the people who were patient and caring from the second they met you, made you feel at ease when you were so obviously uncomfortable in a new environment. 

you have hongjoong and jongho who always make you smile and laugh despite whatever mood you’re in. 

you have wooyoung, mingi and yeosang who, while you might’ve gotten off to a bumpy start, have proved time and time again how much they care about you. how they’ll ruin anyone who tries to mess with you now and have seen the error in their ways. 

you have seonghwa who, despite everything he’s done, has always loved you. made you the happiest a person could be but also maybe the lowest; though even with that, you were able to get past it. 

he showed you how to love but also how to be loved, a concept you truly never experienced until him. how much power that feeling has over a person and once you see that it’s something completely pure and real, it could help heal a person.

but that’s not to say it completely healed you because you know that’s just not how it works. you still have your doubts and anxieties and some long-lasting trauma that you’ll have to work through. but he makes it easier, everyone makes it a little easier because you know they’re there to listen. 

you know seonghwa could take one look at you and just know you’re having a bad day, place a kiss on your forehead and comfort you in the form of your head on his chest and his hand rubbing your back. 

but for the most part, these long summer days have been amazing. even seonghwa thinks so, despite the way his friends have been staying at his house, stealing his food and giving him a headache more often than not.

“can someone please go on the ferris wheel with me!”

the loud bustling of the summer carnival truly rivaled the youngest boy’s whines, sick and tired of them all standing around and attempting to win a giant teddy bear for the past thirty minutes.

“jongho, if you ask one more time i’m gonna-”

“can someone PLEASE go on the ferris wheel with me!”

you let out a small sigh as you look at the boy, his eyes focusing right on you when he sees he finally has your attention. 

“please, y/n, we’ve just been standing here. they’re never gonna win.”

“yes we will!” mingi, wooyoung and hongjoong blurt out, causing you to snort and jongho to shake his head; it takes just one more look from him, one of pure and utter devastation, for you to give him a small smile and nod. 

an excited yelp leaves his mouth and he grabs your hand, fully prepared to pull you away and lead you to every ride possible. but then you stop in his hold and his head snaps back to see seonghwa’s arm wrapped around your waist, his mouth in your ear asking where you think you’re going. 

“she’s coming with me!” jongho says, “we wanna go on rides, not wait around for a stupid teddy bear.”

“it’s not stupid, you’re stupid,” hongjoong snaps, eyes narrowed as he aims a dart at a purple balloon. 

“seonghwa, please,” jongho whines, tightening his hold on your hand and attempting to tug you away from him. but the dirty blonde only narrows his eyes at his friend, eyes moving to see you looking at him in amusement. 

“come with us,” you say sweetly, despite the way you’re being pulled, almost painfully, in two different directions. 

“you know i get dizzy, baby,” he whines, a giggle leaving your mouth as you cock your head to the side. 

“ah, that’s right, forgot i was dating an old man,” you quip playfully, his eyes narrowing and his hold on you tightening. he tugs you closer and your hand gets pulled out of jongho’s, the boy behind you letting out a groan as he flails in a circle.

“y/n! apologize to him, god damn it, and let’s go! seonghwa, she didn’t mean it.”

“oh, i think i did though,” you tease, the smile pulling at seonghwa’s lips making you bite down on your lip. 

“you’re pushing it, you know that don’t you?” 

but you only roll your eyes as you turn in his hold, lifting on your toes to peck his lips sweetly. he meets the kiss and keeps it as chaste as possible, smiling against your lips before you pull back and look at him with one of your own. 

“we’re gonna go now,” you say, “are you sureee you don’t wanna come old man?”

his eyes narrow at you, about to pull you into him again when jongho, now teamed up with san, pull at your hands and charge away.

“we’re going on rides! fuck you lover boy!”

seonghwa shakes his head as he hears your parting giggle, smacking wooyoung in the back of the head when he misses the balloon for the 40th time.

“you are terrible.”

“you are terrible!” you squeal to jongho, watching as he shakes the cart of the ferris wheel and sends san screaming.

the blonde had been hesitant to go on this ride in the first place, a fear of heights that has made him have mental breakdowns at amusement parks before.

but you promised that he’d be okay, and it took a little bit of begging on the line to really convince him, just for jongho to mess it all up within the first ten seconds of being secured in.

“i’m gonna scream for wooyoung to beat you up if you don’t stop,” the blonde whines, his hand clutching onto the edge of the ride desperately.

“i’m not scared of that short little man, i could easily take him.”

“i don’t know, it’s usually the small ones that are crazy,” you reason, overlooking the calm evening sky despite the vigorous shaking beneath you.

“stop!” san yelps.“please, you little shit!” and now you can really hear the anxiety and fear cracking in the blonde’s voice.

“no more!” you scold, pinching jongho’s arm and watching his face pull into a pout. “stop! or we’re not going on anything else.”

and even though your threat was empty, because you wanted to go on more, it did the trick. you three bounced around to every and any ride you could get on, even the ones that weren’t san approved; he just shut his eyes tightly and screamed directly into your ear.

but you and the youngest had your heads thrown back in laughter, your hair zipping through the wind with your arms up in a sight seonghwa watched with a smile.

he was leant against the side of a booth, blueberry slushy in hand drowning out the sound of the boys arguing over who gets custody of the giant teddy bear.

“i was the one who popped it!”

“but we all paid for it!”

“you only popped it because we loosened it.”

“you can’t loosen a balloon dickface.”

your happy squeal rips him away from the nonsense bickering, your eyes finding his as you immediately run to him. 

“you should’ve came, it was so much fun!”

“yeah?” he says, offering you a sip from his slushie. you take the straw between your lips with a smile, sucking down the sugary blueberry before pulling back.

“that’s good.”

he smiles when he sees a blue speck on your lip, wiping it off with a delicate swipe of his thumb and soft look in his eyes. he knows you have your good days and bad days, the former more often than not during these past few weeks, but he can’t help but love the good days.

when he gets to see the smile he was robbed of for the first few weeks of knowing you and then again the first few months after reuniting. but now it’s like he makes it a personal mission everyday to see it; not even for his own enjoyment but to know you’re genuinely having a good, happy day. 

“your hair’s a mess,” he chuckles out, voice deep and amused as he runs his fingers through your knotty hair. but you only narrow your eyes at him and take the slushie from his hand, pecking his cheek quickly before running over to see the $100 carnival prize you eventually get custody of.

you remember how uncomfortable you felt at the first bonfire you went to, when yunho’s bright smile or hongjoong’s charisma or jongho’s funny antics did little to calm you. 

you remember being scared of seonghwa, the way he watched you with emotionless eyes and nearly threw a water bottle in your hand with demands for you to take it. you had usually felt out of place but it really stuck out that night to you, watching everyone talk and laugh and bond around a crackling fire. 

you never would’ve thought that, just a year later, you’d be around one of your own. laughing and giggling and kissing your boyfriend around a fire with people you felt comfortable and safe with. with people you went to, what felt like, hell and back with but came out okay. 

more than okay, really. 

because you watch wooyoung and san shove each other lovingly, two people who also overcame struggles in a strained relationship. you watch all of the boys with the blonde, once tumultuous and non-existent friendships that were able to blossom again. 

you watch from mingi’s shoulder seonghwa and yunho play cornhole, giggling when you see that after a year, yunho’s skills with the game still haven’t quite improved - and that’s obvious in the way the four boys charge down to the ocean.

“okay, honestly, he might’ve gone worse,” you mumble to mingi, the boy scoffing lightly and pushing you off his shoulder playfully.

“leave him alone,” he whines, a soft smile on your face that causes him to roll his eyes in embarrassment. you giggle and knock your arm into him, looking around the dark beach with a sense of tranquility. 

you always loved the beach at this time, that solitary part of you itching to feel the cold sand between your toes and hear the gentle lull of the waves with no one’s presence but your own.

but you wait until the boys are occupied, until mingi eventually sneaks over to yunho and defends him against everyone’s harsh insults; you also saw san and wooyoung go down to the ocean a few minutes ago, the blonde not having learned in his lesson from back in febuary.  

so it’s then that you quietly sneak away, catching your boyfriend’s eye and he already knows where you’re headed off to.

you make your way to the cliff you became well acquainted with during these types of events, watching your feet in the sand before you climb your way up and shimmy toward the end. 

you watch the waves crash under the bright moonlight as your pelt with memories, good and bad. how this beach marks almost every journey you and seonghwa went on together from first meeting, 

“you don’t talk a lot.”

his eyebrow raises at your comment, turning to look at you and the close eye-contact causes you to sharply inhale; he smells good, like the beach and cologne.

“neither do you,” he counters, “i don’t even know your name.”

your eyebrows furrow together, turning your neck to the side as you realize you haven’t told any of them your name yet. “i thought it was seonghwa,” he finds himself saying with a smirk, your confused gaze prompting him to speak again.

“you looked back when yunho said it yesterday.”

“oh,” you giggle awkwardly, remembering turning around in your flustered state and seeing him looking at you from your front yard. “no. my name isn’t seonghwa,” you tell him before telling him your real one.

he hums at the information, eyes roaming your face before his eyebrow quirks up again.

“so, why’d you come tonight, y/n?”

to your first kiss,

“...so i’ve never done this before.”

he hears the way nerves and embarrassment seep into your voice, looking at him wide-eyed with pink cheeks and now he’s really never wanted to kiss someone more in his life.

it’s why he takes your face in his hands, his palms cupping your cheeks and causing a breathy exhale to leave your mouth. “good,” he says, his thumbs stroking your face as he leans down and presses a feather light kiss to your lips.

it feels almost like nothing but still shocks you, not even having the time to close your eyes before you’re looking at him again; because that was one thing you knew, you knew you weren’t supposed to kiss someone with your eyes open.

“g-good?” you squeak after a few seconds, not even sound enough to feel embarrassed by the shake and waver in your voice.

“good,” he confirms and if the look on his face and smirk on his lips didn’t make you weak enough, his next words absolutely do.

“i wanna be your first.”

to your first confessions and vulnerable moments,

“i…don’t really know why you like me,” you say with a hiccup, “you could probably be with any girl ever who’s a lot prettier and more…experienced and-”

“don’t,” seonghwa growls lowly, his thumb running over your face sweetly. “no one’s prettier than you.”

your eyes widen and you want a laugh to bubble out of you but for some reason you can’t. you can only pout and look at him with your glossy eyes, your stupid little self feeling sad and insecure all of the sudden.

“that’s a lie,” you tell him softly as you shake your head. “no one thinks that. no one ever really likes me, actually.” you wanna say that not even your own parents or classmates like you, that no one has ever looked your way and actively cared about you felt.

“i do,” seonghwa hums, his heart hurting because he hates that you feel this way. “i liked you the second i saw you.” you look up at him and feel your eyes water, the softness and sincerity in his words causing a lump to form in your throat.

to even the heavier stuff, when you really weren’t sure if you two were gonna make it this far. 

“i don’t know what i want,” you admit quietly, confused because there’s the matter of trust at hand making this process incredibly daunting. but you also can’t escape the one fact you knew was true this whole time, no matter how much you didn’t want it to be because you were so sad and hurt.

“but i know that i’m still yours.”

he doesn’t think he’s ever felt the feeling that rips through his chest when you say that, an overwhelming, all consuming feeling that would’ve knocked him on his ass if he didn’t have some sort of hold on you.

he has to stop himself from completely breaking down in front of you, shaking his head and holding back a cry as he pulls you into his chest.

“you really shouldn’t be fucking saying that to me,” he mumbles against your head, his voice tight and throat constricting as he tries to keep his shit together. “i don’t deserve to hear that.”

you pull away and meet his gaze, his eyes wide and teary and full of such love you can see clear as day. you reach up with a small, sad smile and brush your hand through his hair, longer pieces of dirty blonde on the top such a contrast to the short, shaven ones he had during the summer.

“maybe not,” you say quietly, head cocking to the side as your wide eyes meet his. “but it’s how i feel.”

but you think that’s maybe why you’ve grown to love this beach town just a little bit more. 

because it not only shows the story of you and him but also of you as a person. someone who came here sad and lonely and a shell of a girl but was able to blossom into someone who, for the most part, was genuinely happy and content with life.

and you never thought you’d be able to say you were happy with your life. that you felt like you belonged anywhere or with anyone because you were just always in the way. 

but you see now that that’s not the case. you see that you were never the issue but your environment was. an environment your mind still drifts back to and makes your heart sink, wondering what went so wrong in your parents lives for them to act the way they do.

to never, not once, contact you or your aunt ever again to see if you were okay or adjusting well; but you try not to dwell on that. you try not to think about and dwell on things like that anymore. 

because you’re in a better place and have more than enough people who care about you and-

“you have a death wish?”

your head snaps back to see seonghwa standing a few feet behind you, his tall frame looming above you as he cocks his head to the side teasingly. you can only smirk at him with pink on your cheeks, your arm reaching out for him to come over and sit next to you. 

but he plops down behind you until you’re right between his legs, your back pressed against his chest and his lips mumbling into your exposed shoulder. 

“you okay, baby? i saw you sneak away.”

“yeah,” you hum lowly, taking his hand in yours so you can play with his fingers absentmindedly. “i just like it up here.”

he smiles against your head, pressing a kiss to your hair lightly as he watches you intertwine your fingers together. it’s something so small but it makes him bite back a smile, remembering when you were too scared or shy to initiate things.

but he’s watched you become more confident, not only with him but in general. the way you can hold eye contact now and your voice doesn’t always have a tremor. how you’ll kiss him sweetly before running off, like the action was so natural and immediate you didn’t think anything of it. 

he can only describe everything as easy; nothing is ever forced or feels fake. if you guys have problems now, you talk it out right away. you don’t throw his past mistakes in his face and he doesn’t ever push you to talk about something until you’re ready.

it’s at those moments you guys find yourselves here a lot, enjoying the usual quietness and tranquility of the dark beach. tonight, however, that’s not the case because even from this spot, you hear the distant screams and shouts coming from your crazy group of friends. 

“they’re so loud,” you hum quietly, seonghwa laughing against you as he nods his head and mumbles a string of expletives. 

you giggle softly and crane your neck backwards, looking at him upside down to see him already staring at you. you raise your eyebrows playfully and his deep chuckle sends your heart fluttering, his face meeting yours to place a soft peck on your nose. 

you giggle and pick yourself up, turning around so you can crawl into his lap. his arms wrap around your waist as he holds you to him, tucking a stray piece of your windblown hair behind your ear.  

“so...did you think about what your aunt said the other day?”

you bite down on your lip as you let out a sigh, knowing that you need to come to a decision but your heart hurting at both prospects. 

because when she first mentioned you transferring to the school here, you knew it made the most sense. it was only a seven minute drive and you already would have a small group of friends, hongjoong and yunho in your class and jongho in the year below. 

but then you’d have to sacrifice the school and environment you just got used to. you’d have to sacrifice your time with seonghwa and the other boys, your job at the cafe where you can’t imagine not ever working again. 

because who would work with san? you can’t let the blonde work there alone again, after seeing the after-school crowds and knowing how much he loved having someone to talk to there.

but the hour commute back and forth is rather taxing, depending on the day and traffic sometimes making it longer. and you can’t help but feel bad for seonghwa and your aunt’s gas bill - both of who never allow you to pay them back.

your aunt also thought it’d be a good idea to get a fresh start - away from a town and school full of bad memories and reminders of how life used to be.

“i don’t know,” you say quietly, pulling back from seonghwa’s shoulder to meet his gaze. “i know it makes sense to and i wouldn’t mind it,” you tell him honestly, “but...i’d miss it. i’d miss working with san and seeing the other boys everyday.”

“i know, love, but you’d still see them,” he says sweetly, “they’d probably drive out every fucking weekend for you.”

you giggle softly as you shrug, wrapping your arms around his shoulders before you look at him with the smallest of pouts. “but i wouldn’t go to school with you, either. i’ll reallly miss seeing you every day.”

a low chuckle leaves his mouth before he places a firm kiss right on your lips, the way in which he does it so surely and easily still surprising you after all this time. 

“like i’m not gonna stay here every night and make the drive,” he says lowly, amused that you think he’d actually go a week without seeing you.

“then i might as well keep going,” you whine, his look hardening because he’s truthfully with your aunt on this one - he thinks being away from that town littered with bad memories and trauma, some of which he himself contributed to, would be better for you. 

but it’s your decision after all. it’s gonna be you going through the two years, not anyone else - not him or your aunt or your friends. all of them can only give gentle encouragement and be supportive of what ever decision you make. 

“it won’t matter what you pick, we’ll be okay,” he says when you two stand up, his hand in yours as he runs a hand through your hair. “and if you’re scared about starting a new school, don’t. because you’ll have yunho and jongho and hongjoong and they’d be way too fucking excited to help you and show you around.”

“but what if i meet a mean, bad boy there?” you tease lightly, eyes glinted with amusement and a smirk pulling at your lips. “like right in homeroom or something, i don’t know.”

you watch his tongue poke into his cheek as he narrows his eyes at you, a giggle leaving your mouth as you wrap your arms around his waist. 

“just kidding,” you squeal, his eyes rolling before he pulls him into you. 

“not funny,” he says despite the humor laced in his voice and then his lips on yours. he slips his tongue in and you smile against him, only breaking away when you hear shouts and gags from directly below you. 

“can you stop making out for five fucking seconds and play with us!” 

everyone took the news of your decision to transfer schools...differently.

whereas jongho, hongjoong and yunho tackled you in a group hug and cheered in amusement, wooyoung, yeosang and mingi resembled children who just found out santa isn’t really.

seonghwa and san watched from the side, the two boys you consulted with most and eventually shared your decision with not all surprised by these reactions.

because despite how hard it was, despite how many factors you had to consider and people you couldn’t help but think about, you felt as if this was the right choice.

it was a fresh start and closer and just made more sense. even though you’d miss the familiarity of the other school and working with your best friend every day, you know it’ll be like you’re barely gone.

because seonghwa was correct in saying the boys would come every weekend to see you, the first idea coming from their mouths after their initial heartbreak and whines.

but it didn’t lessen the blow when the last day of summer did eventually come, when you sat around the pool with seonghwa and your friends and uttered dramatic goodbyes. 

“it’s only an hour away,” seonghwa grumbled, watching san and wooyoung cling to you for the past fifteen minutes. 

“you can say that because you’re-” 

“just shut up,” seonghwa says, a sense of urgency and warning in his tone that goes unnoticed to your ears. because the whole time you say your goodbyes and hug the boys, you’re holding back tears.

tears that don’t surface until you’re back in your room with seonghwa, watching from the balcony as yeosang and mingi stick their heads out the window and wave goodbye until the car is completely out of sight.

you turn around and seonghwa’s eyes soften upon seeing your expression, wide teary eyes and lower lip threatening to wobble from holding back cries. 

“baby, it’s okay,” he mumbles against your head, tightening his hold on you when you fully slump against him and let out a few quiet whimpers; because tomorrow, he’s gonna be gone too.

the feeling isn’t as gut wrenching and consuming as it was the last time you two separated like this but you still feel sad and a little scared. you still have to face a new school tomorrow, adjust to all the different teachers and classmates while also getting used to not having your familiar circle of people. 

you’re not gonna see him everyday when you first wake up, fall asleep to him kissing your head or the sound of his heartbeat against your ear.  

“maybe it’ll be good,” seonghwa mumbles against your head, the two of you now laying in your bed under the covers. “maybe you’ll like getting a break from me.”

“no,” you immediately whine against him, a small smile on his face as you push yourself up and straddle his waist. your fingers trail down naked his chest, making figure eights on his abs in a way that makes him groan lowly. 

“why?” you ask, cocking your head to the side with a pout on your face. “will you like the break from me?”

“fuck no,” seonghwa growls out, grabbing your hips roughly so he can put you on your back. “i’ll be surprised if i make two weeks before transferring.”

you didn’t even have time to think about that being a possibility before his mouth is on yours and he’s sucking hickies into your neck. trails his lips down your stomach until he’s slipping off your shorts and you’re moaning into the crease of your elbow. 

moans that turn to muffled cries into one another’s mouths, his cock steadily fucking into you until you both come in unison. your sweaty bodies and labored breathing fill the room, you on your back and seonghwa making his way into the bathroom to get a warm rag.

you hum at the feeling of it between your legs before you’re back in his arms, your head buried in his chest as you fall asleep to the sound of his deep “i love you.”

the same one that wakes you at five a.m., his hand softly running through your hair as your eyes fluttered open. 

“i gotta go, baby,” is all he says. but it immediately makes you frown and bury yourself further into him, mumble words he can’t quite make out besides little whines of “no.”

but you do eventually pry yourself off of him, after he presses soft kisses on every bit of your face until your nose is scrunching and you’re pushing him away from you playfully.

“okay, okay,” you whine, morning grogginess still in your voice and on your face. “please call me when you get home.”

“of course, baby, how ‘bout i come back after school? to see how your first day went?”

“mm it’s okay,” you mumble tiredly, knowing you have an hour and a half left before you have to get up and get ready. “just stay till i fall back asleep, please.”

and that tiny, whiney request almost makes him wanna drop the act entirely. but he sees your heavy eyes already threatening to shut and shakes his head, waiting until your breaths even to peck your cheek and he sneaks out of your room.

you wake later to the sound of yunho’s voice, his head peeking in your room before a sigh leaves his mouth.

“y/n! we have to leave in twenty minutes!”

he watches, and is totally not helpful, as you rush around your room to get ready quickly, his head thrown back in laughter in a way that makes you smack his arm lightly. 

but you all eventually get there with a few minutes to spare, the boys walking you through your schedule and introducing you to a few more people they’re friendly with.

“everyone’s really nice,” hongjoong tells you, hoping to ease your obvious anxiety. “you’re gonna think it’s suspicious but they’re all genuinely pretty good.”

“okay that makes me feel better,” you say with a smile, the five minute warning bell making your eyes widen and stomach knot even more. “oh no.”

“it’s fine,” yunho smiles softly, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him. “i’ll walk you to homeroom, c’mon.”

he guides you through the halls until you’re standing in a doorway, the teacher in the front of the room greeting you with a small smile and saying hi to yunho. 

“this is my friend, y/n. she’s new and a little nervous so please be extra nice to her.”

the teacher rolls her eyes as she waves yunho off, warning him that he’s gonna be late just as the bell rings; she doesn’t even say a word as she walks over and grabs him a late pass, shoving it in his hand before telling him to move his ass. 

“so, y/n, was it?” she asks, looking over the paper in her hand with a curious gaze. “that’s funny, we were supposed to have two new students.”

your eyebrow raises at her statement and you think maybe you could befriend them. they’re probably just as scared as you, if not more because they don’t anyone at all. 

you think that would be nice, having another friend to get to know and help feel as ease and-

“oh, are you the other new student?” you hear the teacher ask, hearing footsteps slowly come up from behind you.

there’s a few beats of silence before chatter erupts from students, quiet mumbles about how he looks familiar and they’ve all definitely seen him before.

“yeah,” you hear the boy say and you immediately whip around at the deep voice you know so well, the handsome face that woke you this morning looking at you with soft eyes full of amusement. 

“i’m seonghwa.”

you can’t even hear the teacher welcome him or tell the other students to settle down, biting back a smile at the the way he so cockily and teasingly mouths ‘hi baby.”

complete

tag list: @chogiout ; @psshwa ; @yeocult ; @seongghwaa; @cherryeonii ; @chaoticbanqtan ; @8teenee ; @nczenniez ; @atinyarmyx1 ; @mingtopiaa ; @chubsluda ; @joongiebug ; @mochibabycakes ; @jisungity ; @skz-on-my-mind ; @nlost21 ; @myonlyaurora ; @closer-stars ; @kuaenam3g ; @byungaji ; @floweryjh ; @joeycheungg ; @lostscenarios ; @atinyxtopia ; @sanisms​ ; @kpopnightingale​ ; @simpforhyunjin​ ; @89staytinyzen21​ ; @lokicaramel​ ; @hwaxbum​ ; @sakura-uji​ ; @songsoomin​ ; @toffee-hwa​ ; @deobitiful​ ; @hyunjeansuniverse​ ; @chrryhwa​ ; @i-know-you-know-lee-know​ ; @tiny-whatsername​ ; @fairieofeternity​ ; @yixing-jaehyun​ ; @sleepyseonghwa​ ; @revehosh​ ; @atletino​ ; @yeol-wish​ ; @cxcxlxlee​ ; 

[writersrealmbts]

Lonely Little Jack-o-Lantern

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

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

Posted: 10/30/2020

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

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

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

You walked carefully, furtively looking around.

Then you spotted it, lifting your machete….

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

Severing it’s lifeline.

How else would you dispatch it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that depended on you protecting your home today.

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

You would have to wait until they were closer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey!” You yelled. “Still waiting!”

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

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

Was that a tail?

Oh.

Oh.

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

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

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

They all nodded this time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But they hadn’t been joking.

Their friend was seriously injured.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded again and headed back into the closet.

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

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

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

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

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

Namjoon was washing the potatoes.

Jimin was carefully washing the rice.

Yoongi was chopping the onions.

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

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

Hopefully he knew what the spinach looked like.

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

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

He blinked, then nodded, heading out.

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

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

He nodded confidently.

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

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

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

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

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

Namjoon translated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dear god you hoped this would taste okay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lonely,” Jungkook murmured.

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

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

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

He blinked slowly.

You shifted on your feet, unnerved.

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

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

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

Yoongi had already taken over.

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

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

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

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

They nodded.

Jungkook followed you out and into the bedroom again.

Taehyung and Jin were asleep.

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

He glanced down, then looked sheepish and shrugged.

You pointed to a chair. “Shirt off.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shyly looked away after a moment.

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

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

“Jungkook?” Yoongi asked, eyes widening.

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

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

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

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

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

But you were also morbidly curious.

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

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

He sort of shrugged.

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

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

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

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

Namjoon looked reluctant.

You studied the room.

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

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

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

You stirred the pot nervously. “Shows?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what do you do for him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t go with them?”

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

“When did the zombies hit?”

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

“Did you farm before this?”

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

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

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

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

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

You just knew the shell was getting a face.

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

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

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

He landed just fine, honking angrily at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You would have to add more minnows to the pool.

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

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

“Uh…sheep?”

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

He did, and Carl plodded away.

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

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

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

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

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

She was happily situated once more when you peeked in.

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

Jungkook caught your wrist. “Me.”

“Alone?”

“You are alone.”

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

Yoongi shook his head. “Jungkook and Jimin.”

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

He looked and nodded, then jogged away.

You huffed. “That boy.”

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

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

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

But impossible to look away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t blame him.

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

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

Poor Namjoon.

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

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

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

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

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

Nope.

Nuhuh.

Stop it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You live there,” Jungkook asked.

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

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

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

Yoongi started purring but quickly coughed to cover it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook went rigid, and his tail fluffed out.

Yoongi also looked…tense.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———

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

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

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

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

Jungkook met you there, looking determined.

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

His brow furrowed.

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

Finally he stalked away.

You wished you felt victorious.

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

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

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

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

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

You knew it was Yoongi.

You just wished you knew why.

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

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

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

They nodded.

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

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

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

They nodded, though Yoongi was slightly more reluctant.

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

You gave Namjoon a quizzical look.

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

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

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

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

Famous last words?

There were definitely a few zombies.

And by a few, you mean a few dozen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which was good.

You were starting to feel a little nervous.

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

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

Namjoon just grinned.

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

Yoongi was trying to decipher the labels on the medicine.

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

Which led to you being beside Yoongi helping grab medicines.

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

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

Yoongi nodded, then showed you a label.

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

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

You stared into his eyes for a moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Namjoon looked uncomfortable, like he was hiding something.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then again….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then he was walking away.

And you were frozen. Absolutely frozen.

Because what the hell was that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And of course you got paired with Yoongi.

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

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

Wondering if he was ever going to say anything.

Grabbing just about every canned good after checking expiration dates.

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

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

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

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

Yoongi was the only one awake on the drive home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taehyung raced inside.

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

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

He nodded, translating and calling Jungkook and Yoongi over.

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

And Jungkook….

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

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

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

You swore Jungkook was trying to show off.

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

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

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

You nodded, gesturing for him to lead on.

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

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

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

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

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

Licked. You.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grinned at you. “We can stay?”

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

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

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

He laughed and hurried off to tell the others.

What had you just agreed to?

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that day was fast approaching.

You would have to bid your vice goodbye.

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

“We’re good!”

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

He took a sip and sighed. “Good.”

“Glad you like it,” You replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook looked around curiously, straying a little.

Yoongi stayed close to you.

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

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

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

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

You blinked at him, confused beyond reason.

“Smell,” He said quietly.

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

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

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

Jasmine.

Your weaknesses.

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

You closed your eyes.

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

And oh, those sneaky fluff-butts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You weren’t lonely. “Not anymore.”

--

Next

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Zombie Apocalypse Masterpost

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

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

lovesick fool

Coworker!Johnny x Coworker!Reader

summary: Johnny is your work husband and feels fine with being just that until something someone makes him realize he wants more (college-ish!au)

word count:~2.4k

other mentioned members: Yuta, Jaehyun, Mark

A/N: Thank you for reading, let me know what you think! Requests are open!

-

Another day at a boring, mediocre job that Johnny surprisingly looked forward to. All because of you. Not that the job was actually boring, everyday brought something new with crazy customers and situations that Johnny had never even imagined for himself. Where else could someone order a turkey club sandwich with just tomato and lettuce, no turkey, add bacon but not order a BLT? 

“Hello wifey, how are things going today?” Johnny greeted while going through your regular conversations of the day at work, no lunch rush yet, no crazy tables, chit chatting about that one shift manager that was always a bit weird and mean, and no rude customers he had to stare at threateningly. 

“No Johnny,” you laughed lightly “but thank you, honey. By the way you are really rocking your uniform today”

Johnny watched as you returned to your table, placing the receipt on the table with your very sweet, but still customer smile. He had yet to really admit it to himself but others had noticed, he liked you- a lot and was beyond obvious about his crush. The whole “wife” and “husband” joke stemmed from the desire very deep down within him that maybe he really did want you to be his wife one day, maybe that joke between the both of you had triggered his crush. Though he wasn’t going to admit that now- or ever, he hadn't even admitted his feelings to himself. He liked the dynamic the both of you had established after years of working together and the friendship that had developed thanks to the job, even if the job did suck. You guys could joke around and have fun in an environment that you would both dread if the other happened to not be there. You had both become, almost, best friends. 

“Are you ready to work today, or are you just going to stand there like a lovesick fool?” His manager asked playfully. 

“Huh? Right on it!” Johnny smiled, grabbing his notepad and heading towards a newly seated table. 

The day continued on like any other day for Johnny, fake smiling, taking orders, hurting feet, keeping an eye out for you and admiring you but very subtly- not in a creepy way or anything. 

What was beyond abnormal for him was to see you laughing with one of the guests, a genuine laugh, not your fake laugh that you used when dads made horrible jokes. But Johnny recognized this guy, he always came in and sat in Johnny’s section and stared at you, sometimes making conversation but usually, he tried as hard as possible to get your attention. What a sight to see. Mostly by making you do extra work like bringing him extra napkins or a refill when you weren’t even waiting tables in that section. 

It wasn’t like this guy was a weirdo or anything, he was a college student like you and Johnny, he was nice, handsome (ish), and he always left great tips. What was not to like about this guy? Well, for starters, he was hitting on you, and Johnny didn’t like that. Johnny hated how it made him feel considering he didn’t even know why this guy flirting with you made him feel sick to his stomach in the first place- well he did but he didn’t want to say why. Johnny continued to watch you as he waited on an order for one of his tables, still confused with what he was feeling and curious as to what the heck this guy was telling you to make you laugh so hard. Johnny thought he was funny, but it had taken him a while to get you to laugh like you were laughing now. 

And three days later this guy showed up again, leaving his number on the receipt with a hefty tip just for you and a note that told you to text him if you were interested in getting that coffee you guys had talked about. And Johhny had had the honor of seeing and delivering that stupid receipt to you even if this guy was seated in Johnny’s section like usual.

“Are you leaving me for lover boy?” Johnny joked as he snatched the receipt from your hand to read over the words and numbers again. 

“His name is not lover boy, it's Yuta, he’s just nice and he knows my brother. That’s all, don’t worry.” You replied, quickly taking the receipt back and placing it in your pocket while handing Johnny the tip. 

“Are you going to go on a date with him? Yuta, I mean not your brother, because that would be weird.” Johnny asked. 

“You’re acting weird lover… can we talk about this later, you can see that you have three new tables seated in your section right?”

“Don’t think I’m letting you get away with not talking about this too easy, I’ll remember this and show up at your house demanding answers when you least expect it.” 

“Of course, I’d expect nothing less, my love.” You replied, the term of endearment dripping in sarcasm but it didn’t stop Johnny’s heart from racing a mile a minute at the simple two words, my love. 

-

Given that Johnny would have the next 3 days off, he sat at home making himself busy to keep his mind off your date, was it a date? Why was Johnny so nervous about this? Should he text you? Call you? Should Johnny ask you out to coffee now too? Did you even text the guy? Was he worrying about nothing? Was the tv he was staring at even on?

“I can literally see steam pouring out of your ears, your brain must be in overdrive. Are you good?” Johnny’s roommate, Jaehyun, asked with a chuckle. 

“Hypothetical situation here, if you were a girl, and we were basically best friends, and we called each other husband and wife, and just overall had a good time when we were together, would you say yes if I were to ask you out?” 

“Oh are you finally realizing your feelings for y/n?” Jaehyun asked, his eyes leaving his phone to land on his roommate who was nervously biting his lip, waiting for an answer.

“This isn’t about me.” Johnny laughed nervously, very obviously lying through his teeth. 

“Okay… well then your friend should just ask her out. Even if she does reject him- I don’t think she will, but if she did, you said it yourself, she’s your best friend, after me of course. First and foremost you guys are friends above everything.” Jaehyun smiled.

“But there’s another guy that comes in all the time and all he does is hit on her and she laughs! He left his number for her and she got kind of defensive when I joked about it. It’s kind of weird watching him make heart eyes at her every time he walks in especially when she isn’t even his waitress! Even his name is cool! Yuta! I’ll just be her forever work husband, nothing more.” Johnny whined. 

“You make her laugh and make heart eyes at her too, I’m not seeing exactly what the problem here is. And Johnny sounds super cool too!”

“You don’t get me.” Johnny sighed, giving up and now letting his mind run wild with endless possibilities of what you may or may not have done in the three days he hasn’t seen you. 

-

He was practically vibrating as he made his way into the restaurant after his time off, excitement, anxiety, his coffee that morning, whatever it was. He was never excited or anxious to come to work, god no, he was only ever excited to see you but never anxious. 

“Johnny! I missed you. Your hair looks different today, but good.” You smiled, pulling Johnny into a big hug.

“Thanks, but did you really miss me? I loved seeing the texts I received from you every two seconds. Wait, that didn’t happen.” Johnny joked, it was so weird how you made him feel nervous but simultaneously made his nerves disappear.

You scoffed, lightly hitting his arm, “I was thinking about you a lot though, I forgot how horrendous work is without you.”

“Lovely to hear you guys, why don’t you both get to your horrible work and then chat about it later after your shifts? Preferably not in the restaurant where paying customers can hear, thanks.” Your manager chuckled.

“Yes, my liege... What time are you off today? Want to hang out?” You asked Johnny.

“Your boyfriend won’t be mad that you’re hanging out with me?”

“What boyfriend?”

“Go work!” Your manager yelled out.

“We can talk about this later, hello, would you like to hear today’s specials?” You greeted a table of customers with a smile.

Johnny worked for his short shift, greeting customers with a smile, taking orders, and bringing food to tables. He looked normal, but on the inside he was an anxious mess, he had decided that today he was going to confess his feelings to you. He was just lucky that your guy friend, boyfriend, his replacement, Yuta, whatever that guy was, had decided not to come in today, that would have made Johnny even more nervous. If the confession went wrong, there were other jobs Johnny could work, more restaurants or anything else he chose. He had always liked coffee, maybe he could work as a barista. It couldn’t be that hard to work a coffee- “Johnny, your shift is up. See you, tomorrow dude.”

Johnny made his way to the break room after clocking out, leaving the apron he wore at work and grabbing his things, already planning in his head how he was going to tell you that he likes you.

“Johnny, hello? Did you still want to hang out?” You asked. 

“Huh? Oh yeah, where were you thinking?” 

You guys had decided to go to a little cafe a few blocks away that Johnny had been telling you about for months. Even when you had told him you were scared that his favorite cafe would blow your favorite cafe out of the water. He had just been so convincing, telling you he wanted you to try a latte, an americano,with a great nutty taste from South America, even a hot chocolate made with the perfect mix of milk chocolate and dark chocolate, he even said the pastries were freshly baked in store daily. Really he had just looked so excited when he went into extreme detail about the menu, you really felt like you had to try it now. He also looked so cute when his eyes lit up while he talked about the great muffins, yes, he had tried every single muffin they had. 

“So I suggest we share a hot chocolate, because it’s great but you have to try something with coffee in it, they make it even better than I do.” He smiled.

“I trust you to order me a latte then, any flavor you wish. Should we split a muffin or a croissant or do you want us to get our own pastry?” 

“Let’s get our own but split them.” Johnny suggested, which sounded good to you so you just nodded. 

Once the order was placed, you both took a seat at a table towards the back of the cafe near a big window that had a good view of the little garden next to the cafe. 

“So, I wanted to ask you something.” You started. Johnny looked at you nervously, eyes big and full of surprise. “Why do you call Yuta my lover boy?”

Johnny laughed nervously, “Well, he always flirts with you when he comes in, he doesn’t seem to take his eyes off of you, he makes you laugh a whole lot. He also left you his number, I just assumed that you guys were a thing or a potential thing.”

You laughed, “Yuta was my childhood neighbor before he and his family moved back to Japan, he moved back and goes to a college nearby. I guess all the staring was to see if it was actually me.”

“The flirting and his number?”

“Ok, so he is a naturally flirty person but he’s not into me, he left his number for my brother. They were best friends when we were younger. I think he just wants to see what Mark is up to and catch up with him, he gave me his number to give to Mark.” You explained with a shy smile. “Why do you care so much anyway, Johnny?”

Johnny let out a loud sigh of relief with a smile, scaring the barista who was bringing out your drinks and pastries. “So… I was jealous of Yuta because I really like you. Like not just as my work wife or one of my best friends, and I don’t even think this is just a crush, I really really like you y/n. I was an idiot to wait so long and let jealousy bring it out of me.”

“Johnny… wow.”

“You don’t have to tell me you like me back and only like me as a friend. It’s fine and I totally understand, I don’t want this to ruin our friendsh-”

“Johnny, shut up! I like you too! I thought it was super obvious, but I guess not.” You laughed, cheeks hot while you avoided eye contact with Johnny.

“This is great! Can we make this a date now? I really want this to be a date. I’m also so happy Yuta isn’t into you. Not that you aren’t cool, like you totally are, and Yuta would be missing out on a whole lot because he doesn’t like you like that, but I really like you.” Johnny rambled before you pushed part of a muffin past his lips.

“I’m happy this is a date too, now please, stop being weird.” You laughed, causing Johnny to blush.

“I can’t believe I made THE Johnny blush on our first date, I must be really special to you.” You cheekily smiled, leaving Johnny to blush even more. 

“Am I allowed to flirt with you in front of Yuta now?” Johnny asked, resulting in a light kick to his shin. “Ow! It was a joke babe!”

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 141

Last week I posted a day early because vacation was doing vacation things to my sense of time.... This week I forgot to queue the chapter up because Monday was a work holiday, so I forgot today was Tuesday. *insert facepalm here please*

Thanks on this one go largely to @baelpenrose who rightfully pointed out that one part made very little sense to him and therefore was unlikely to make sense to a reader.  The clarification smoothed things out quite a bit, I think.  Just in case, whoever spots the area I’m talking about gets a cookie as soon as travel restrictions lift.

As always, thanks go also to @the-raven-fae, @charlylimph-blog, and @anotherusrname for completing the corners of my support system. And, a super-duper extra-special to @drinksteawithcake! I don’t know if I am allowed to tell everyone why, but you know why you get the extra-special, and I hope you are having fun!

BWAAAAAHP!   BWAAAAAHP!

“Uhhh?” I squinted in complaint as flailing arms clambered over me. One pair snagged me around my waist to drag me from bed before depositing me shakily on my feet. “What are you - ?”

BWAAAAAHP!  BWAAAAAHP!

Any trace of sleep was shoved out of my system, replaced by sizzling alertness when I realized I was hearing ship-wide alarms.  Shoving myself into the first clothing I grabbed, not even bothering with shoes, I was hot on Conor and Maverick’s heels as we raced out of our quarters and into the corridor. We paused only long enough for both men to kiss me and for “I love yous” to be exchanged before they turned and headed toward the areas indicated on their datascreens, while I hauled ass toward the Archives, ducking and twisting to avoid anyone in my path.

“Forty minutes,” Tyche told me crisply as I basically fell through the door, panting. “The Ark could be invaded and the battle over by the time you make it.”

“I ran….huff….the whole….ugh….way….” I managed to gasp out.  Part of me felt like puking, but I was pretty sure the muscles in my abdomen were too busy to figure out the logistics.

Clicking her tongue, she pulled me up from the floor. “Alistair, make a note to suggest to Xio that Sophia’s quarters be relocated once we have a better idea of when we are dropping into real space.”

I nodded numbly. “And probably… amp up… sensors… give… earlier… warning.”

“Nice outfit, by the way,” she laughed quietly as we finally reached the shelter point within the Archives.

Glancing down, I had to suppress a sigh. The first thing I grabbed to dress myself had apparently been a pair of Conor’s boxer shorts and a very filthy t-shirt that I assumed belonged to Maverick, since Conor’s was usually under coveralls. “At least you can’t say I took my time getting dressed.”

Her shaking head was greeted by faces in various states of wakefulness - this had been a drill, and woke nearly the entire Ark during their sleep interval on Delta shift.  But we weren’t out of the woods, yet: the drill didn’t end until all of Xiomara and Evan’s scenarios played out, including the mock combat and various tests of concealment for the other shelters.  As such, Tyche stood guard over the choke-point into this section, while Alistair had stayed behind at the entrance.

Early on, when the drills started, there had been fifty-fifty odds that the mock-invaders would make it this far, but over the past few weeks, that had narrowed to maybe twenty-percent.  It was still too high a chance in my judgement, and Xiomara clearly agreed as she stepped up training schedules and randomized the timing of the drills. 

Taking a swig of water from a stash of bottles, I queued up my datapad and stood next to Tyche, watching the ‘casualties’ from a point where no one could see over my shoulder to avoid panic, which I would have done in a real situation. “They didn’t find mess hall seven this time,” I murmured.

She glanced at my screen. “Acoustics are still too damned high. She must not be simulating for that this go around.”

One of the decoy locations lit up. “Looks like this time it’s heavy on thermal.” The location in question had been equipped with a cooking surface, triggered to activate when the klaxons that had woken me up went off.  Which Xiomara knew, but did not tell the ‘pirates’ for authenticity.

“How did they get past the combatants this time?” She asked, both curious and slightly worried.

Rolling back the sensor data, I watched it carefully. “Looks like these got in during the initial breaches, multiple points. But the line has held since, that’s good.”

Doing another check toward Alistair’s direction, she didn’t seem to see anything concerning. “How many?”

“Four,” I confirmed.  “Sam’s thermal camouflage is working beautifully, though.”  I couldn’t help but grin, and Tyche snorted at the same time. ‘Thermal camouflage’ was a bit of overkill as a name, but it was working well in every round. Potential access points were equipped with fast-acting environmental simulators - originally designed for temporary habitats on inhospitable moons - modified to release atmosphere like a Terran equatorial rainforest within one minute in an enclosed space.  It was a much more simple and elegant solution than any others we had found for giving combatants defending the Ark an advantage - instead of trying to create technology to make them look colder, make the entire area match human heat signatures.  Boom, instantly blinded enemies.

A tense half-hour later, the ‘all clear’ sounded, queueing grumbling from those who had dozed back off as everyone stood to make their ways back to their quarters. I waited with Alistair and Tyche for everyone else to be accounted for on the way out, and the three of us headed back toward our quarters together.  Alistair peeled off first, living closest to the Archives, and no sooner had my sister and I reached my door than the page sounded for the post-drill meeting.  She waved me off as she answered on her databand, and I did the same as I pushed into my quarters and flopped on the couch. “Councillor Sophia Reid, present, audio only,” I answered. “And no jokes, Pranav… I look like I smell awful.”

“Alistair Worthington, present, audio and video. I can confirm that she does, and she does.”

Laughter filled the comms and the rest of the group leaders and Councillors joined the debrief.  Finally, everyone was present and Xiomara called the meeting to order.  First, the leaders of each shelter reported in, as those usually went the fastest. There were a couple malfunctions in the deployment of the shielding to disguise the entrances and hide heat and electrical signatures, but nothing Huynh’s team couldn’t fix.  Tyche and Alistair made the recommendations around earlier detection and the need to move those sheltering in the  Archives closer as we approached time to drop out of relativistic space. 

Once that was out of the way, it was on to the combat and invasion teams. Overall consensus was that Sam’s trick with the portable environments was a rousing success and would be installed at each point determined to be most likely as a breach, with trigger conditions to be determined later. “I hate to say it,” Michael sighed, “but we also need Charly’s team to crank up the scovilles on the arrows and grenades.” His team had played the ‘invaders’ this go around, equipped with sensors and readouts to simulate the effect our defenses would have on the various species who most commonly were found on pirate vessels.  Evan had worked intensely with Pranav and Derek to ensure that the strategies provided by the readouts were modelled after similar strategies based on which ever species each team member was assigned, to ensure we weren’t accidentally drilling against human tactics.

Michael hated it, but he was strict about his team complying nonetheless.

“Seriously?” I squawked, and I wasn’t the only one. “One of those things accidentally went off in my quarters…. Can confirm, they’re pretty potent.”

“They dissipated too fast against my team, and also the contact element left a lot to be desired. Charly, you may want to consider adding a sticking element.”

“Duly noted,” she chimed in with a yawn, her normal pep doused by being woken up and then the drop in adrenaline post-combat.

“What about the sonic weapons?” Xiomara asked, moving the meeting along.

“Still less effective than Nixe is on her own,” a familiar voice I couldn’t put a name to responded with a sheepish tone.  “How hard would it be to train more people to shatter glass with their voice?”

“Incredibly,” Grey stressed. “It takes a very unique combination of training and the right vocal chords.”

“Then we may need to work on adding a projection component.  The sonic devices can match the pitch, but not the actual tone and direction. They’re very effective given time and especially contact, but we need something more immediately disabling.”

Xiomara groaned. “Are we back to Mariah Carey on this one?” Objections exploded until she muted the comms. “It’s that or opera.” Votes started scrolling up the screen, and I could see Xio nod. “Opera it is.  Let’s find a suitable piece and try using more analogue-style speakers.”

“I still say that death metal would work better,” Arthur suggested as soon as the comms were back on.

“Annnnd we already tested it, I will remind you. The volume works, but the pitches aren’t high enough to hit a broad enough population of species sensitive to sound.” After that nearly-obligatory objection, the meeting continued going through reports from each combat team until finally Xiomara announced the end results. “I have to admit, this was one of our best drills yet. Ten percent casualties of the combatants defending the breaches, only two percent among non-combatants, and the invaders were only able to traverse three decks before they were subdued.” She let the cheers go for a couple seconds before getting everyone’s attention again. “Yes, great job on the improvements, but let me remind everyone - those numbers still leave us below threshold for a healthy genetic population. Engineering teams, make the necessary adjustments with whatever resources are necessary. Shelters Three and Seven, you will start training for armed and unarmed combat with Shelter Fourteen and Combat Team Two daily.  Sophia, your team will coordinate schedules. Any questions?”

There were no arguments, not even a groan or mutter as the meeting was dismissed. Before I could even add the new task to my agenda the next day, I received the notification that Alistair had beaten me to the punch.

Glancing at the time, I wanted to hit something.  I had to be back up and at work in four hours, and the realization weighed me down with exhaustion.  The guys had come in and gone to bed while I was in the debrief, and I could already hear synchronized snoring coming from the bedroom.  Rather than risk waking them with my now-frozen feet, I pulled the quilt off the back of my couch and rolled myself into it.  Only minutes later, a heavy weight oozed across my hip and started purring furiously.

“Yeah, buddy. I agree. We need a nap.”

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[letstalkaboutsebbaby]

I Fell

Ransom x you

I had this on my head yesterday...so, it goes to the gorgeous @helenaeisenhower

The first time he told you you are different, you thought it was just a line; something people say when they want their partners to feel special. You like to know Ransom wants to please you and make you feel good with him, but now you also know exactly what he meant by that. After 3 months dating, plus 5 in a serious relationship, this is the first time you visit his family, and it's overwhelming - not in the best way - to see the way they talk to one another. Even though Ransom tries to shield you from the mess, you're not used to anything other than a loving family. The fact that his mother invited his ex, affirming she didn't know they weren't together anymore, cause he's been just so distant...you want to leave, but you also want to show him you're strong and can deal with it.

So, for the last half an hour this skinny perfect blonde woman keeps talking to his mother and looking at you no matter where you go or what you do, it's uncomfortable and the only thing reassuring you is your boyfriend's hand on the small of your back as he keeps an investment talk with his father. You watch him trying to end the talk a couple of times, only to have his father ask something else, as if the only reason for this talk is to keep him from having to interact with the rest of the family. Ransom brings your body closer and slides his hand up to caress the nape of your neck, your head resting against his chest when you see the irritation in his ex's eyes. Is he aware of it? Is he doing it on purpose? You don't know, but when she drinks her wine like a shot and walks away from the living room, you feel some relief.

Between cousins, uncle, parents and 'the help' as you strangely hear Ransom say sometimes, the only person interested in getting to know you is his grandpa - but you're way too intimidated to even look him in the eye. It's Harlan Thrombey! You've always wanted to be a writer, but ended up translating other writers' work to your first language - italian. It was how you and Ramson met, their publishing company was looking for someone to translate a series of books and after a reunion to discuss it, you got a job contract and a dinner invite. Is what you tell the old man when he manages to usher you away from the father/son discussion, bringing you to his library, where you both sit as you try not to look so stupidly amazed by all the books there.

"So it was a nice dinner, then?" Harlan asks with a welcoming smile that makes you open up.

"No, it was horrible. He was...such a pain in the ass! I'm sorry for the language but I don't know how else to say it. He was just an arrogant prick and I told him so." You still remember the way Ransom looked at you, as if you were crazy.

"What changed, then?"

"Him. I was given an office to use as I worked with your company and your grandson would leave a little origami flower at my desk everyday for a month, until I agreed to give him another chance."

"Am I right to assume he made a better impression on the second date?"

"He was a gentleman. A smart, attentive gentleman. We dated - like old fashion lunches and dinners - and got to know each other better for the following 3 months I was there, then he asked me to be his girlfriend."

"Three months dating? No funny business?" He asks surprised, but his eyes were not on you, so you turn your head to see what got his attention. "No funny business" you hear your man saying from the door, he was leaning on it, as if he has been there for a while. You wonder if he heard the conversation. 

"Would you both want something to drink?" "Yes, bring us champagne" He tells Ransom, who leaves to get the beverage. "I've seen my grandson having affairs, partners of some kind...but never a serious girlfriend, and no one like yourself, young lady." He smiles and starts to stand, so you assume the conversation is over "He stopped with the origami flowers?"

"No, never. I have a box full of them." "So, what? 9 months...about 275 flowers?" "A bit more, some days he gives me more than one."

After getting a book from his vast collection, he gives it to you. Opening the old thing, named 'I Fell' you see a lot of pages are missing, almost half of it, and recognize the paper as the same as your flowers. You look back at him, shocked. 

"I've never published this but I'll send you a copy so you won't need to undo the flowers to read it."

"Thank you"

"Thank you for what?" Ransom says, back in the room.

"I'm just praising your girlfriends' beauty and intelligence" Harlam compliments.

"Fair." He looks at you with a soft smile, giving you the flute of champagne. "The dinner will be served in 10 minutes."

"I'll let you enjoy the silence for a bit." The old man excuses himself from the library, giving Ransom a pat in the back before going out.

"Is everything okay?" he says sitting at the big chair his grandpa was using before

"Yes, I like him." you tell him, taking the hand he offers to sit on his lap.

"Good, I'm sorry for the others, though"

"It's okay..."

"I know it's not what you're used to"

"I'm sorry that it's what you are used to" and you really do. You know the arrogant prick you first met is the result of this environment.

"It's a reason to make it different" he gives you a peck and smile as you get another gulp of the golden drink.

"You look amazing"

"Not as stylish as your ex..."

"She's not my ex. We've never been serious"

"Well, she's beautiful"

"She is...but you are gorgeous and have a lot of other qualities that I appreciate. She got nothing on you" 

"Thank you."

"Want to leave?” the mix of mischief and despair in his eyes something you would never be able to ignore.

"The dinner will be served..." you try to reason.

"I don't care, I feel like I'm poisoning you by keeping you here. You're too good for this shit show. Let's get some take away and eat by the fireplace, what do you say?"

"Burgers?"

"Anything you want with double bacon"

"You're my knight in shining armour, let's go." 

[kuroopaisen]

heartworm. (akaashi keiji)

➵ you miss akaashi more than anything. so if bokuto’s birthday party gives you an opportunity to reconnect, you’ll take it. 

wc: 2.8k

warnings: swearing

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto’s resounding chant seemed to rumble through the entire apartment.

“Hey, Bokuto,” you smiled, tilting your head at him.

“It’s great to see you!” He was beaming at you as he pulled you in for a hug, face flushed and hair all ruffled. You weren’t sure how many drinks he’d had, but you could tell by the colour of his cheeks that he wasn’t going to be standing upright for much longer.

You grinned up at him. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

“Thank you!” His voice boomed out of his chest – far too loud, considering the circumstances. But, you smiled nonetheless. That was Bokuto for you.

He ushered you inside before you had time to think, patting your shoulders as you stumbled through his landing room. His apartment wasn’t large by any means, but he sure had tried to stuff a lot of people in it.

There were some faces you recognized – old team members from Fukurodani, Yukie, Kaori… and it was easy enough to fall into the groove of conversation with them. Well, as best you could, given the noise.

True to form, Bokuto’s party was little more than pure chaos. Mostly led by Bokuto himself, in cahoots with some guy who looked a little like a rooster. And of course, it was fun to watch. But something about the cacophony and the crowd was making your heart beat a little faster. You weren’t feeling claustrophobic, per say, but you needed some fresh air.

You almost laughed at yourself for that. You’d been at this party, what? Twenty minutes? And you already needed a time out? But, you supposed that’s what tended to happen once you got to your second year of university. You felt more and more like an old crone each day.

That, and there was a notable absence from the revelry. You didn’t want to think about him – no, you wouldn’t think about him. But that didn’t shift the weight in your stomach.

Thank God Bokuto had a balcony. It was rather quaint and small, but it would do. Just a few minutes in the cold and the dark, and you’d be ready to socialise again.

You sighed, turning to step into the shadows next to the door.

“Keiji!” The name slipped out of you before you could contain yourself.

He looked up at you, cross-legged at the end of the balcony. An outsider might’ve mistaken his expression for apathy. But you could tell, from the slight raise of his eyebrow and the touch of softness to his eyes, that he was surprised. Whether your presence was a good or bad surprise was yet to be seen.

“Hey.”

You wanted to throw your arms around him. You wanted to bury your face in his chest. You wanted to tell him how much you’d missed him.

You did none of that.

“Long time no see,” you smiled, cursing yourself for the cliché.

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

God, he looked good. You’d forgotten just how good-looking he was – how had you forgotten? He made jeans and a plain shirt look stylish.

A quiet memory of you and Bokuto insisting he get into modelling came back to you. You’d been teasing him, of course, but there had been truth to it. Hell, you knew you’d buy something if Akaashi was the one selling it to you.

You swallowed, trying to focus on the situation at hand.

“Are you alright?” His voice was as soft as you remembered.

“Yeah,” you nodded,

“You sure about that?” one of his brows was raised ever so slightly. He could still see through you, huh?

“Honestly, I’m a little intimidated,” you chuckled softly, sitting yourself on the ground next to him. It was strange just how much that made you feel better – to be on the same level as him. “I don’t really know anyone here.”

“Me neither,” he tilted his head to the side, turning his gaze away from you and onto the night sky.

“So, uh…” You wanted to talk to him. You wanted to keep this – awkward as it was – going. “How’ve things been?”

He shrugged. “Alright.” He paused. “I got an internship at a publishing agency.”

A bright smile overtook your face as you sat up a little straighter. “Keiji, that’s wonderful news.”

You’d rarely spoke of your plans for the future in your third year, but you knew well enough that Keiji had his hopes vested in writing. You hadn’t spoken about it at length – those sorts of conversations did little more than root anxiety, after all – but at graduation he’d left you with a little blurb.

“It’s only an editing position,” he bit the inside of his cheek, his brow furrowed ever so slightly. “But it’s an in.”

“They’ll be begging you to write for them in no time,” you nodded, smiling at him. “You’re only in your second year of uni! That’s a pretty big deal, you know.”

The whisper of a smile pulled at his lips. Your heart stirred; the very same way it had three years ago.

Fuck. Really?

“How about you?” He asked, voice aggravatingly melodic.

How were you?

Admittedly, not great. University had been… not what you’d expected.

Your first year had knocked you off your feet, and it had been quite the battle to get yourself upright again. That was on-top of everything going on in your personal life; moving out, adjusting to a whole new way of life, having to accept the changes that graduation brought… It’d been more of a feat than you’d expected it to be.

You’d tried to make friends, but it was harder in this new, unstructured environment. Making friends meant joining clubs, or striking lucky with where you chose to sit in that crucial first lecture. You’d made a handful of good friends, but you didn’t feel close to anyone yet. Not in the way you’d been close to the man sitting next to you.

But he’d drifted from you.

You remembered graduation with startling clarity; how he’d gripped your hand after the ceremony, making his way through the crowd to find Bokuto, who’d been proud to the point of tears. You remembered how afterwards, still hand in hand, you’d made your way to the local park; that little haven where you’d spent many evenings just talking.

It was there that he’d given you that little piece of prose. At the time, you felt like you barely understood it; like you’d only caught a whisper of what it really meant.

But you’d wondered, then, if you should kiss him.

You didn’t.

You weren’t going to risk your friendship with him based on some silly misunderstanding.

And maybe you could’ve shaken it off, if that’s all it was. But it wouldn’t have been some simple misunderstanding. It would’ve been all your hopes vested in a single gesture.

Things had crumbled after that.

You didn’t really see each other in person, once school had finished; he’d left to scout out apartments earlier than you, and he’d settled himself down in Tokyo before you’d had a chance to speak to him. You managed to catch him on the day he left, just long enough to give him a farewell hug.

But even that had felt off.

And then, you were texting less. And less. And less.

Next thing you know, you only spoke to him in the little group chat between you, him and Bokuto.

You hadn’t known what to do.

The two of you had been so close after meeting in first year. You’d seen the highs and lows of his volleyball career, you’d been granted a peek at his personal journey towards becoming a writer, seen him overcome obstacle after obstacle with such grace…

And he’d been there for you through every trial of your own. When it all felt like it was too much, Keiji was there to talk you down, to make you feel like everything would end up okay. There was nothing he couldn’t logic his way through.

Really, there was no way you weren’t going to develop feelings for him. He’d grounded you, supported you, cared for you. He’d become so overwhelmingly important to you, and yet here you were, at a loss of what to say to him.

How are you? He’d asked.

Fuck it, you thought.

You tell him everything. Everything that had meant something to you. Everything that had shaped you as a person this last year and a half. Everything you’d been storing in your heart, hoping to spill to him.

You don’t know how long you’ve spoken for, but you didn’t stop. For a moment, it’s almost like it was in high school; you, rambling on about whatever had caught your interest, and Keiji, the perfect listener.

But, as the minutes pass, you realise this is just like high school.

He’s smiling at you.

It’s soft, barely there. But it’s familiar. It’s the face of the Keiji you cherished so deeply, even if he looked a little older.

You paused, taking a deep breath.

He’s still looking at you. He’s there. In reach.

So you say it.

“I’ve missed you.”

His eyes widen, just a little, and for just a second. But his cheeks are dusted with pink, and the corners of his mouth were turning upwards. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Oh no. Those words were enough to make you brave. Much too brave.”

“Hey, Keiji?”

God, why did his eyes have to be so piercing?

“Why did we drift apart?”

There’s no hiding his shock now. It’s fair – you hadn’t expected that question to crop up either.

But it’s out there, now, and you’ve got nothing to lose.

His chest rose as he took a deep breath, and--

“Akaashi!”

You both knew who that voice belonged to. And sure enough, he came thundering out the balcony door, duo-toned hair a mess and golden eyes shaped into an uncharacteristic glare.

Akaashi flinched, drawing back into the shadows as if on instinct. It wasn’t enough.

Bokuto’s face was still red, but now he looked determined. He jerked a finger on Akaashi’s direction, a pout crafted onto his face.

“Have you two hooked up yet?”

You blinked. What did he just say? Your gaze flicked over to Akaashi without even thinking about it. He looked mortified: eyes wide, mouth formed in a little ‘o’, cheeks utterly devoid of colour.

He looked exactly how you felt. Sure, Akaashi was cute – although, that was an understatement – and he’s always been a wonderful person. And sure, his distancing act hurt twice as much because maybe, just maybe you’d always had a little crush on him. And maybe you’d been wondering if he was putting that distance between the two of you because he knew about it and –

“Shut up, Bokuto—”

“It is not cool to ignore someone just because you’ve got the hots for them, man!”

Two questions crossed your mind in that moment. One – who even uses that phrase anymore? Two – what the fuck?

Your head whipped around to look at Akaashi face-on, hoping, praying that’d give you some kind of answer.

He looked like he was about to explode. That stark white pallor had been replaced by blinding red, and it looked like he was puffing his cheeks out.

Bokuto was about to die. That’s all you were sure of.

“Tell ‘em how you feel, man!” Bokuto still hadn’t stopped, hands gesticulating just as freely as his voice was.

Neither you or Akaashi had anything to say. All you could do was stare, absolutely flummoxed, at the man in front of you.

You’d mentioned the whole drifting thing to Bokuto, but you hadn’t expected him to actually say anything. Not after begging him not to. How many drinks deep was he?

But Bokuto was already gone, thundering through the door and shouting for a ‘Kuroo.’

Leaving you to deal with the aftermath.

“I’m…” Akaashi cleared his throat, his gaze a thousand miles away. “I’m so sorry about that.”

“It’s…” You bit the inside of your cheek. How were you supposed to comprehend what just happened? “It’s fine. I’m… used to it.”

“So,” he sighed, running a hand down his face. “I guess I should explain myself.”

Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God.

“Remember that thing I wrote you?” He asked, his tone reticent.

You nodded. “For graduation?”

“Yeah,” he swallowed, his eyes cast downward. “I was… I was trying to confess.”

Wait. What?

Everything raced through your mind. How he’d held your hand. How his gaze had lingered on your face. How he couldn’t quite walk away after he’d walked you home. The look of disappointment in his eyes as you said goodbye.

Oh. Oh God. You were an idiot.

“You… were?” You hadn’t felt your heart hammering like this since high school.

“Yeah,” he chuckled softly, playing with his fingers. “I thought it was pretty obvious.”

Maybe it had been. Maybe it hadn’t. “Oh.”

“So, I just… assumed you’d rejected me,” he murmured. “Since you said nothing about it.”

Could you punch your former self in the face? Because you really, really wanted to do that right now.

“And I… I didn’t know what to do after that,” he swallowed, managing to meet your gaze. It was only then that you realised you’d been staring at him like a creep for the past few minutes. “Everything started changing, and I…” He sighed. “I got scared. So, I stopped reaching out.” He bit his lip, looking down again. “I’m sorry. That was childish of me.”

“No!” You spoke before you’d thought about it. “No, I… I’m sorry.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I…” You took a deep breath, propping yourself up on your knees and facing him directly. “I should’ve said something.”

Akaashi frowned, tilting his head at you.

“You know I had the biggest crush on you, right?” You blurted it out, so slurred it’s almost one word.

His eyes widened at that. More than usual.

“God, I was pathetic,” you smiled. “Embarrassing, actually. Remember how many times I tripped in front of you? I was like a goddamn shoujo protagonist.”

“I never noticed,” he murmured. You smiled, about to respond – “I thought you were cute.”

Huh?

“Thanks?” You had no idea how to respond to that. But you were sure the frown on your face wasn’t a good look.

Akaashi chuckled, looking up at you again. “That hasn’t changed, you know.”

Oh God, oh God, oh God—

“I still have your letter,” you said. Why? You weren’t sure.

This conversation was already totally out of your control. You’d gotten closure for something you’d accepted as forever unknowable. The boy you were damn near in love with was confessing to you in the retrospective. You’d come to this party to make an appearance and then leave after the first hour – this wasn’t how you thought your night was going to go.

“You do?” His voice was unbearably soft.

You nodded. “I… I really missed you. I… wanted to keep the last part of you I had.”

There was no word in your vocabulary to describe the look on Akaashi’s face. It was something like relief, something like regret.

“I’m glad.”

Those weren’t the words you were expecting to hear back. But what had you expected? Especially in light of this new revelation. In light of the fact that he’d felt the same way you had. And for someone so clever, so analytical… he hadn’t picked up on how you felt.

But, knowing him… that was just a testament to how much he must’ve liked you. Enough to confuse himself. Enough to doubt himself.

And sitting there, across from him, you knew that your feelings had barely changed.

“Hey, Keiji?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not… dating anyone, are you?”

“I’m not.”

Deep breath. This was very, very stupid. But you leant forward and pressed a kiss just at the corner of his mouth, a breath away from his lips.

“Did you aim that?” Akaashi smirked. But his cheeks were red, and his eyes were fond.

“I didn’t—I don’t—I—” What you wanted to say was that you didn’t want to assume anything. That you didn’t know what you were doing. That you were trying to make up for the one vital mistake—

“Here,” he smiled. He took your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. That was enough to make your mind go frantic, a muddle of shame and excitement and the will to give in.

He brought your clasped fingers up to his lips and lay a gentle kiss on him.

God, that’s so embarrassing. That’s enough to make you burn up?

“Let’s take this slow, okay?” He’s smiling at you. A full, proper smile. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

[shiversdownyerspine]

10. Douse

Still alive and kickin, I can’t be stopped!

18+

Expected to be set back on your feet as Axel reaches your screen door, you feel your face flush when you realize he fully intends to carry you out like this in front of his brothers.

At the sound of the handle turning with a creak, you promptly start flailing.

"Axel I can walk, you know I can walk! Let me down!"

Your cries falls on deaf ears. The relentless man releases the door handle to adjust his grip; the hand on your thigh slides higher, taking your dress with it, while his other grabs the back of your knee. Thrashing reduced to a much more controllable wiggling, he kicks the door open and steps into the sunlight.

Squirming and praying your rear is still covered, you try a different angle, "I will answer any questions you have about my Phase, I promise!"

That brings him to a stop. You brace your hands as close to his shoulders as you can and push off, shoving yourself backwards to his front.

With a gasp you slide down his chest as his hand cups your side to steady your quick descent. Your bare feet lightly pat atop the stone of the patio. The oh so cold wet stone.

Jolting at the chill, you look around the watery murder scene before turning your attention to the two culprits standing face to face like they're in some sort of showdown; Otto and Oscar, to their credit, have pristine feet. But at the cost of becoming drowned rats. 

You hold back laughter, but allow a wide smile. Their hair is an utter mess.

Otto and Oscar are ripped from their stalemate at the sound of your voice, "I'm sorry to say, but you're going to have to put your water war on pause. We should get this started before the weather takes a turn." 

Your next sentence you mutter just loud enough, "That and before a certain somebody gets impatient. And tries to carry people again."

The hand still at your side gives a soft warning squeeze that has you quickly scurrying over in the direction of your patio furniture before he can grab you up. You're not going to take any chances, you'd like to keep your feet on the ground thank you very much.

The younger brothers glance up at the sky to see rain clouds on the horizon. They wander closer to the cottage as you check and make sure the flower bushes close to ground zero haven't been completely flooded. Otto rewraps the hose as Oscar tries to squeeze out as much water as he can from his sweater. After securing the coils back on the hook, Otto slumps down in one of your wooden chairs. Sliding the messy locks of his hair out of his face, he gives Oscar the stink eye as his brother flops even more gracelessly down in the matching chair next to him.

Oscar pauses, taking a closer look at what you're wearing, and smacks Otto's elbow with the back of his hand. Otto glares at his sibling before his attention is directed to you. Admiration lightly flushes the large man's cheeks as Oscar grins at his reaction. Your usual wear is adorable, but they would kill to see you in something light and flowy like this again...and judging from the possessive hand Axel has rested at your back after he makes his way to you, he approves as well.

Trying not to focus entirely on the warmth of the eldest brother's hand, you step carefully to the wooden bench sitting adjacent to the chairs. Taking a seat, your feet lift quickly from the chilly shallow lake below as Axel follows close behind you. 

Sitting beside you, the man pulls your knife from his pocket, and begins with a simple, "Explain this."

Your eyes flash stubbornly. Did he really think you were going to make this easy for him? After his earlier stunt? Right.

As innocently as you can, you reply, "Axel that's a paring knife. You cook, you should really know this."

Oscar chokes his laugh down as Otto clears his throat. Unbeknownst to the two of you, the younger brothers had actually been locked in water combat for only a short time; earlier on Otto had gotten distracted by you and Axel, and Oscar had noticed where his tallest brother's attention had been directed. You both have had a captive audience pretty much the entire time.

At least until Axel had made his way over to the screen door with you tossed over his shoulder. Oscar had immediately grabbed the hose and did what he had to do to hide any sign of their guilty observation and eavesdropping. Otto hadn't been amused, but he begrudgingly understood that they may have needed some sort of alibi.

Axel's nostrils flare, his eyes narrowing as he thumbs along the blade.

He drawls, "What do you do with it."

Keeping a straight face is becoming a bit difficult. He is making this too much fun for you.

With slight confusion you reply, "...It's...it's in the name."

The silence from Axel nearly breaks Oscar. Otto has his poker face on and appears unaffected by your antics, but the mirth in his eyes tells a different story.

As for Axel? He betrays almost nothing, maybe a mild frustration at best. But his brothers would bet money that their older sibling is resisting some rather...lustful urges right now. Your teasing bothers the eldest in the worst way...or maybe the best.

Your eyes fall to the knife in Axel's hand. Might as well get this show on the road.

"...But yes, I do use it differently. I use it as an aid for my ability. When I want to change into my Phase, that knife provides me with a method that gives me the most control. If I vary the depth of the cut, I can adjust the time I spend in my Phase."

Oscar glances at the little unassuming tool before asking, "Change for what?"

You shift on the bench, getting a little more comfortable.

"Well. When I first started living here, my forest and lake were in pretty poor condition. Garbage and filth had been left sitting for years, which meant the soil was being smothered by water that couldn't drain the way it needed to. Because of the waterlogging, many of the trees developed root rot."

Cocking your head to the side, you recall the information provided by your environment books. You had spent countless hours reading and notetaking, determined to restore your childhood home.

"Root rot isn't the most dangerous thing, but it can be tricky to identify in its early stages. A little less than half of the pines were infected, a good amount too far gone. Their root systems had basically been turned to mush."

You worried for a moment you were boring the three who may have been expecting something more thrilling, but they appeared to be listening quite intently. They had mentioned hunting and fishing in their lives, so you'd have to remember these three weren't just assassins, they were woodsmen. Maybe this was right up their alley?

"So! The biggest problem I had at the end of the day, was identifying pines in early stages of rot. Not to mention a lack of tools to do so. But I knew that my ability affected my senses, and thought maybe I could use that."

Otto murmurs, "Better senses?"

You pause, "...Yes and no. Um...take my eyesight for example, my night vision. My eyes are better at night but are more sensitive to light, kind of like..an owl's. So in that aspect, it's situational. Better at night, weaker in the day. If there is anything I can call 'better' outright, it'd be my hearing and balance. But not by much."

Fidgeting with the hem of your dress, you fight back bashfulness at talking about a part of your ability that is particularly...bestial.

"When I was in my forest in my Phase, I..was using smell. Normally you smell root rot from the soil, it'll be bad...swampy. But with time and practice, I could smell the rot itself. I can't really describe it other than it's very...heavy."

Decay in particular stood out to you; a combination of sharp and dark, old and new and lost. You count yourself very lucky that you had no urges to consume those types of things, given the peculiar animalness of your ability.

"So, that's what I use my knife for."

You lean against the side of the bench, folding your arms over your belly as you think. There was something else...

"Oh right! You wanted to know um...why I didn't attack you three the first time? To put it simply, instinct plays a part in what I choose to perceive as a threat when I'm in my Phase. It's...decently reliable."

Otto shifts, grimacing at the wet feel of his long johns sticking to his skin, before asking, "To you, not a threat?"

A soft sigh leaves your lips, "I haven't really been in many dangerous situations in my life. But uh...when you three caught me...there was no sinking, overpowering, awful sensation. It was quiet. I was really nervous, definitely, but it felt like...I could wait? So I did."

You smile a little, "Besides, my healing gives me a little more wiggle room in terms of patience."

Oscar shuffling in his seat draws your attention; he does not appear to be happily enduring the texture of his soaked turtleneck, and his frustration is mounting. Refusing to be trapped and uncomfortable any longer, he slips his suspenders off his shoulders and drags the article of clothing up and off his body.

With flushed cheeks, you watch him drop the sweater onto the arm of his chair and relax half-naked in his seat. You try to distract yourself from the handsome man, to rip your eyes away before you're caught.

You succeed, much to your relief. Only that relief is temporary as your eyes land on Otto, whose clinging long johns have been rendered nearly see-through and what were you talking about again?

When Oscar returns his attention to you to see you tense and cheeks practically glowing with your gaze riveted to your knees, he smirks. Oh sweetheart, you can look if you want, they won't bite.

Well. Not too hard at least.

Besides, they've all been looking at you for quite some time. Not to mention having some not very polite daydreams involving you. Do you think of them too? Of their hands and mouths on you, fingers and tongues inside of you, bodies pressed tight against yours?

Curiously, he looks to Axel, whose interest is still on the knife...except its not, not at all. He's watching you, eyes half-lidded with a wicked spark glimmering in their depths. He'd seen your reactions, and if Oscar had to guess, was having some more indecent thoughts of you right now.

You're trying to convince yourself that the burning gazes you feel are simply the brothers thinking of questions...but if that's all it is, why do you feel so naked?

You squirm; it's probably just in your head, but you can't bring yourself to look up and meet their eyes just yet. You need something to keep the ball rolling, before this silence stretches on for too long.

Well...there is something that's been on your mind lately...

"...If..If you don't mind me asking you all a question?"

That seems to break the trance they were in, curiosity pushing through.

Axel encourages, "Go on."

You approach the question gingerly, "Alright..so doing the work that you do...I'd imagine one of your stronger instincts would be protecting yourselves and each other. Avoid hesitation...shoot first ask questions later? And...well?.....you all saw some..weird...woman?..animal?!?..looking thing! With glowing eyes, like something out of a nightmare. Why did you let me live?"

The silence and quiet shifting of their bodies that follows your question is enough to draw your eyes up from your knees.

The brothers had their gazes fixed on you, but after they have processed your inquiry, they falter. Oscar and Otto look to Axel, to you, and to each other. You watch them under your lashes the entire time, a little surprised to see them so...unsure. Axel had settled against the back of the seat, thinking. He seemed far away, lost in old memory. 

Otto keeps his eyes trained on his hands where they rest...were his ears a bit red? 

He mutters something and his brothers look to him in mild surprise.

He clears his throat and tries again, carefully, "Not..night hag...dream? You are...story?"

Scowling with frustration, Otto sighs, "Jävla engelska."

Oscar elaborates, "From fairytale."

Their admission brings back bittersweet memories.

Content to reminisce, yet a little forlorn, your eyes fall to the water that has submerged the stone floor of your patio.

"You know. When I first discovered what I was..or..what I wasn't?..the very first thing I did was grab any fairytale books I could find. Folklore, myths and legends, anything. We didn't have a very good collection though, and many were basically the same stories, but I had to be sure. In the end, there wasn't anything really like me in them. Of course."

It had been disheartening. You had been so naive; you had thought that maybe you could have found some kind of answer or reason for being the way you were, some kind of history or even family. Myths and tales had to come from somewhere, right? Hold some speck of truth.

Wanting to do something about the soft, sad expression on your face, Oscar lightheartedly teases, "Werewolf?"

It works.

Biting your lip, a grin slips through with a giggle, "I considered maybe something like that, but since there was no..changing under a full moon, I crossed it off the list."

You fidget, a little sheepish as you admit, "I still read any new fairytale books I can find in town. I'm not exactly looking for anything anymore, but...well, habit is habit I suppose."

Every once in a while you'd pull a book from the small collection locked away in your bedroom to read as you were winding down for the night. That or to pass the time as your condition played Keep Away with your sleep.

Axel finally drifts out of the past to join in, "We were told stories in childhood. Women with tails, or hooves. Forest spirits."

Otto hums, "Skogsrå or Huldran."

Oscar grins, "Forest maiden."

When all three had laid eyes on you, they had to fight back the initial knee-jerk reaction that they had encountered a real mythical creature. After the three had retired to their guest room to regroup, a dazed Otto just sat on the bed and stared into nothing while Oscar had jokingly asked if they could keep you. 

Half-jokingly.

Their curiosity about you had been...exceptional, but they still had manners they needed to mind. Drowning you in personal questions for hours and hours on end was too boorish, their mother had taught them better. They wouldn't subject their polite little hostess to such disrespect.

With a smile you say, "No tails or hooves here, just feathers and scales. And claws."

A ripple breaking the calm surface of water surrounding the bench has you peering up to an overcast sky. Maybe it would have been better to stay inside after all, but a light drizzle never hurt anyone. You can count yourself lucky that cold water doesn't bother your condition all that much...unless it's a cold season downpour.

The brothers look to your hands, recalling the new information you had revealed to Otto about your victim. 

Axel leans in, "Tell us about claws."

You hesitate, considering your response, "Well...they're...basically made of keratin. I think. Like fingernails but stronger. They're not that long, so they can't really be called talons, but they help me grip and climb."

Otto questions, "Not fight?"

Flexing your fingers against the material of your dress, you speculate, "That's...I mean, if I took a swipe at someone I would probably leave a bit of a cut. Although if I went for the eyes that'd be a different story..."

Confusion crosses the brothers' faces. How exactly did you kill the man, then? Was it the adrenaline?

Axel asks what's on their minds, "Can't kill?"

You figured after everything you said to Otto that this would be coming.

"...I know what you're getting at. You want to know how I did..what I did."

You lock eyes with the eldest, bold as you simply state, "I won't be answering questions about that today."

Determination sets the oldest Swede's jaw, "You made a promise to tell everything. Was this a lie?"

Unsettled, you speak before you can think, "Everything about my First Phase, yes! I haven't lied!"

You clap your hands over your traitorous mouth.

Axel blinks, and then slowly, surely, his expression slides into something sly and victorious; you've revealed something quite interesting. Only for a moment do you bear witness to the brothers' growing intrigue before you cover your eyes, head bowing to hide your face in your hands in pure frustration.

Oscar's voice drifts into your ears, "First Phase? More than one?"

You groan, "See, this is my problem. I like you three too much and it makes me slip up in such stupid ways. Fudge muffins."

The three assassins perk up at the additional reveal of your fondness for them, carefully storing that particular little nugget of information away to be closely inspected at a later time. For now, their focus is elsewhere.

Before they can push for a little more clarification from you, a flash of lightning interrupts the conversation. Worried, you turn to the men with a frown.

"We should move this inside, Pumpkin really doesn't like thunderstorms. Not to mention the kittens will probably be scared too."

Oscar is the first to react to the information; leaning far to the side in his chair to peer at the screen door, he can make out a little ball of orange fluff curled tight against the door in misery. You stand, the brothers quick to follow in your lead.

As you head towards the door peering this way and that at your arms and legs, you mention, "Don't forget to check for spiders before heading in. It's been a while."

Otto grunts and the trio do a quick once-over as you pause by the hose to rinse your feet, watching Axel out of the corner of your eye.

Hm. He really didn't check all that carefully...you eye the hose, weighing the risk. Really though, don't you deserve a little revenge?

Yes, yes you do.

Instrument of justice in hand, you take aim and blast him with what water was left in the hose before you have the chance to talk some sense into yourself.

Surprisingly, all the man does is tense up, still like a statue. There's no grunt or bark of surprise, though maybe you heard a sharp intake of breath from him?

Hair disheveled and wide-eyed as water drips from his skin and clothes, he stares at you. His younger brothers mirror his disbelieving expression and you can't help but take pride in the thought that you've successfully surprised all three of them.

You offer him a simple explanation for the impromptu shower, backing slowly away from the hose towards the door to the cottage all the while.

"...You missed a spot."

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

Jävla engelska-   Fucking English

[a-snow-decahedron]

A Flower's Guide for Happy Endings - Chapter One

Spanish version: coming soon

Summary:

Flowey witnesses the aftermath of the human's journey across the Underground, and tries to make sense of his life now that he's not in control of the timeline. Will it last? Or will he take desperate measures?

Words: 3892

Read on AO3: Link here!

Flowey was still processing the last moments of his life as he left the human's side and watched them cross the Barrier, leaving the Underground behind. The child had chosen to give him mercy, time and time again. The nonsense of this action was so overwhelming, he fled. He didn't pay attention to his surroundings as he moved through the hallways of the King's Castle in New Home. He just kept going, emerging at times to look at a certain turn or wait for the right time to move his roots to another surface. It was almost a matter of reflexes to him. After so many resets, he felt like he could wander across the Underground with his eyes closed and he would know exactly where he was. Environments were something he wasn't able to change, at least not by himself. He didn't find the idea appealing, either. People were much more interesting to interact with... Until they weren't.

There was a wide range of things that could happen at any time in the Underground, and he had done pretty much everything. Some things never changed, though. The Amalgamates were never freed; it was more likely for Alphys to give up than for the truth inside the Lab to come out. Toriel never left the Ruins, no matter what you told her, or what happened outside the closed doors. Asgore never let him see the human souls, no matter how much he insisted. All his efforts were futile in a way, as none of it amounted to anything significant. All could be undone by his will, but not even those things he did held much meaning after a while. It was like watching the same simulation over and over again.

Flowey usually spent about a month or two at most messing around before resetting. In this timeline he had settled for waiting and not being an intervention as much as possible, until new days came by. It was incredibly boring, sadly. So he decided to do meaningless things to pass the time. Nothing much, not like pestering some Moldsmals ever achieved anything. He didn't kill, since that usually meant trouble, and the whole point of this was seeing a world without him. He also watched people he knew. Toriel carried on with her day; sometimes she fell asleep on her reading chair, with one too many cups of wine. Flowey may have given her some water one time, without a reason, simply to make an insignificant difference. Papyrus, a skeleton in Snowdin he had encountered after spying on the Royal Guard, was also an interesting monster to visit. He always had a remark or an anecdote for every place. He was full of such nonsense and contradictions, Flowey always got a laugh or two from his conversations. It was impossible not to play some tricks on him. Every once in a while he dropped predictions in their conversations, which the skeleton seemed to take very seriously at times.

And just when the timeline was starting to get too monotonous, he heard a loud noise on the Ruins, shortly after he had left checking on the flowers. That place.... it always reminded him of his sibling. Golden Flowers were their favorite. That day, at the Ruins, life took an unexpected turn: a human had fallen down, and with them, his control. Needless to say, he freaked out. Not only was this child a fallen human, they were just so much like them— but they couldn't be, could they? In the end. Flowey did what he knew best: got to know this human, acted nice, and then tested their reaction when he betrayed them. The stupid kid fell for his tricks, but Toriel stopped his movements, and took the child with her. The soulless monster, frustrated, tried to go back to his save point, yet he failed: another force was overwriting his mark in spacetime. From then, he decided to follow the human. and see what they did. Soon enough, he found out that the human was the one in control of the timeline, using it to get their way. Through the Ruins, the Snowdin cold, the dark Waterfall and the steaming Hotland, Flowey followed them, catching glimpses of their journey.

What came after the human spared King Asgore was a blur. His determination flowed in a chaotic way when he tried to reminisce about his attempt to take the human souls. It felt so good to have something within that wasn't just willpower fuel. He felt so good, so intense, so alive. That human kid was about to face his true power, to see what he was capable of doing. He had never met someone that could remember overwritten timelines like him, and he wasn't wasting his chance to make the most of it. But human souls are determined and that includes the six within him. They turned against him, and took him back to zero in moments. And then... well. He simply couldn't understand. His control was lost again. The human just needed one blow to finish him off, but they refused and crossed the Barrier. Why not even try? Why not give him the same pain? Why does it matter if he lives or not, anyways?

He was back in Snowdin town by the time his inner monologue had gone full circle, all caused by the human who’d come and gone in what felt like a mere blink. By the time he got to the town it was early night, the time many monsters had dinner. Snowdin had a system of streetlights that was usually too high for non-flying monsters to reach. They were powered by the CORE, and to tell apart day and night, they had set a gradual energy-saving mode that reduced the amount of lights during the night, synchronized with the time on the Surface. The lights were said to resemble stars. Real stars were prettier, but it did the job well enough for the thousands of monsters that had never seen the Surface.

Flowey was standing on a residential street, still muttering to himself, looking at the houses' windows filled with light and the smell of homemade food. He wasn't quick enough to hide after hearing a muffled voice and a door being bumped open. A yellow striped kid, holding a bag of trash with their mouth and on their way to the trashcan, gasped at Flowey and dropped the bag on the snow.

"The talking flower's real?!" They opened their eyes wide, like they had seen the surface. As Flowey tried to curl underground to leave, the monster child spoke. "Yo, don't leave! Papyrus told me about you!"

At the mention of the name, the soulless flower hesitated, then turned around "Howdy! I'm Flowey the flower.” He forced a grin. "And just what has he told you?" he asked, slightly squinting.

"Well..." The kid stared at a point beyond Flowey, thinking of their answer. "We just met today! I mean, I've seen him before, but we never, like, talked. I was on my way back to Snowdin after I left the human in Water— yo, did you hear a human showed up in town today? It's crazy!" They hopped excitedly, shaking their tail happily.

Flowey raised a brow and waved with one of the roots he pulled from the ground, signaling the kid to keep talking. He supposed hearing some gossip was good enough for now, until he figured out what to do now, or found a way to gain his control of the timeline again.

"I didn't know they were human at first, but man, they were so nice! I showed them some caverns in Waterfall on our way. I was so excited to see Undyne fight bad guys! But it turns out they, uhm, were the bad guy Undyne was going after?" They trailed off, looking for a way to follow their story. "She told me that the human was bad, that i could get hurt. And she tried to attack them! But they saved me so they can’t be bad! I had to show her! Yo I dunno what came over me, it felt like my heart was pounding out of my chest. But I told her, s-she would not. I was really scared, but I think it worked! And then I... left them to go home because my parents would worry if I was out late", they mumbled the last part, feeling their rush of energy decrease.

Flowey shot them an impatient glance. "Ok, got you. But when does Papyrus show up in all this?"

"Oh yeah! Right! We met when I was on my way to Snowdin. He said some things about using friendship for his duties as a future royal guardsman, and then we talked about Undyne. He said she is training him to be part of the guard- it sounds so cool! I wanna be just like him one day!" They hopped on one foot. "Then... I asked him about the friend stuff he said, and he told me he didn't have many friends, but Undyne was really close. And then he spoke of a talking flower, that had like, prediction powers. He said you gave encouragement, advice and stuff. I didn't think you were real, but man, was I wrong."

"Is that it?" Flowey raised a brow, getting tired of the kid's chatter. Maybe someone else would have liked talkative friends, but he had enough for that day, and frankly he just wanted to get healed. All the talking was making him dizzy.

"Yeah! It has to be you, right? Man, if we become friends I would break my friend-making record. Three people in one day! Yo this is so great." Their tail moved from side to side.

Flowey yawned, feigning sleepiness "Hey kid, it's nice talking, but don't you have anything better to do?" He pointed to the trashbag with his body.

"Oh right! I forgot. Thanks dude!" they said, picking up the bag with their teeth and walking to the trashcan on the sidewalk.

"Yeah, you don't want to get in trouble, right? I don't think your parents are very happy you went too far into Waterfall on your own with some stranger."

Flowey shrank a bit to appear smaller as the child walked towards him. "Before you leave, I need something. Do it for your new friend, wontcha? Can you get me a snack? I got in a friendly fight and my HP isn't the best right now. I could use some help." He pulled the most innocent smile he could, which was always convincing.

"Ok! Be right back, yo!" They dashed to their house and came out a minute later, pulling two cinnamon bunnies from their inventory and almost dropping them on the floor.

Flowey picked them up with his roots and saved them on his own inventory with a poof. "Thanks, kid!"

"Yeah, no problem Flowey!" They paused and then added "Yo, I forgot to tell you my name, it's M—" Before they had finished their sentence, the flower was gone, like it was never there.

As Flowey moved under the snow, he didn't notice the recent footsteps or the furry monster that made them as they made their way towards the Riverperson place.

Flowey emerged at the side of the skeleton brothers’ house, careful not to be seen. He took a cinnamon bunny, took a bite, and then tried to rest. Sleeping as a flower wasn't easy. It wasn't like laying down in a bed. He technically didn't need to sleep, as long as he had energy from the lights around him or food. As a plant, the most he could do was fold his petals on his face, and find a place where the wind wouldn't bother him and nobody would step on him by accident. Despite this, if he wanted to recover from his injuries, he needed to rest in order to restore his HP.

Flowey was making himself comfortable —as much as he could in a town like Snowdin—, when he heard a door shut strongly on the second floor of the house. It seemed people were at home. He moved closer to eavesdrop on them, but it wasn't necessary, as the speakers were loud enough on their own.

"So... I'm staying here tonight, right? Until I fix my house."

"YOU'RE ALWAYS WELCOME TO STAY HERE, BUT YES, WE'LL FIGURE OUT WHAT TO DO ABOUT THE HOUSE TOMORROW!"

"When do you think the human's coming back? Do you think they'll stay at the inn?

"IT'S WHAT I EXPECT, BUT MAYBE THEY WENT TO NEW HOME AND FOUND SOMEWHERE ELSE TO SLEEP? THEY HAVEN'T CALLED SINCE THEY GOT TO THE CORE."

"They better not be hanging outside late or they'll get in trouble with me."

"WHAT IF THE HUMAN'S NOCTURNAL?”

"Who knows? Not ME at least. Anime says all kinds of things that don't make sense when you put them together, like in some of them, some humans have cat ears, but in others that's not possible. At least they should have something cooler, like fins!"

"OR BONES! HMM, BUT WE CAN ONLY GUESS. PERHAPS THEY ARE NOCTURNAL, I HEARD HUMANS HAVE SOMETHING CALLED TIMEZONES. MY BROTHER TOLD ME ABOUT IT WHEN WE WERE TALKING ABOUT THE SUN..."

At that point Flowey stopped listening. Those two went over several topics, and whenever they didn't know something, they made it up with their theories. It was amusing in the first dozen resets, but by now Flowey had exhausted all possible topics with each of them...

Suddenly, he heard something that was new to him.

"SO UNDYNE, I SEE YOU ARE CARRYING A LETTER? IS IT FOR SOMEONE SPECIAL?" Papyrus inquired, teasingly.

A letter? Flowey had seen many letters. Several had been addressed to Dr. Alphys. He wondered why the fish monster would have one too.

"WHAT? Well, I don't want it to get damaged in case I burn down the house on accident again— BUT NOT FOR ANY SPECIAL REASON, it's just a silly thing I keep with me."

"WHO IS IT ADDRESSED TO, THEN?"

"Uh...."

"WILL YOU LET ME READ IT?"

"Absolutely NOT! It's personal!"

"SO IS IT FOR ALPHYS..." A pause. "YOU DID NOT DENY IT. SO WHY DON'T YOU JUST CALL HER, DELIVER IT, AND SEE HER REACTION?" There was the sound of a phone being unlocked. "I'LL DO THE PHONE CALL!"

"Papyrus, no! I need to rewrite it, it's not done yet! Give me the phone, darn it!" There was another pause. "Ok, thanks. Besides, she's probably busy fixing Mettaton right now. Did you see his new body? And BEFORE you make any remark on how hot or handsome he is, DON'T." Nyeh-heh-heh’s were heard in response. "Anyways, she must be busy, and I don't think I can just show her this letter. I'm afraid things could go wrong— I wouldn't know what to do!"

"FINE, BUT IF YOU EVER NEED ADVICE, LISTEN TO ME. YOU NEED THAT KIND OF BRAVERY IN YOUR LIFE" A clicking noise like a wink was heard.

"NGAAAH- shut up!" She lowered her voice. "Hey, if you don't mind, can you leave while I change my clothes?"

"OF COURSE, I STILL HAVE SOME OF YOUR CLOTHES FROM THE LAST TIME YOUR HOUSE BURNT DOWN. I'LL GIVE YOU PRIVACY."

"Thank you, now GET OUT." The door was closed. Strong pacing could be heard for a few minutes, before the window opened with a harsh movement and small shreds of paper were dropped one by one, “I really can't do it,”she muttered “It's too much. I'll make a better one soon. That will be the one.”

The humidity of the snow would soon leak into the remains of the letter and erase its message, never to be read by anyone. Well, not anyone who was meant to read it anyways. Flowey leaned closer and used a root to pick up a part of the letter. It took him five endearment terms and three uses of the verb love to know it was an excessively corny confession directed at the Royal Scientist.

It seemed almost atypical for the fish monster. However, Flowey knew better. During some of his runs he had experimented with the Royal Guard, testing their strengths and weaknesses. Undyne was a particularly difficult monster to deal with. Once you became her enemy, she would strike you down no matter what. Her green soul magic forced any monster under its effect to stay still and only use its own magic bullets as protection. Flowey, being soulless, was not affected by this kind of magic, but that still didn't make fleeing much easier. He had killed her the first time they faced each other, after dying to her several times. That had been the first timeline he decided to kill, throwing bullets at some of the weakest known monsters. Undyne had been furious, and decided to find the culprit and bring them to justice. When Flowey did manage to kill her, though, she resisted. With her last breaths, she kept on fighting, refusing to die. Her last words were dedicated to every monster in the Underground she swore to protect, and as she melted, she regretted never "telling it to Alphys". He had figured out what it was by other sources. The letter was just further confirmation.

No other monster had shown such determination to keep going, and those words rang in Flowey's head. Somehow, the possibility of making someone be honest about their feelings towards something —or someone else— made him particularly curious. He had tried to help her, more than once, but no attempt had been successful. He kept trying for a few more runs. Undyne's resilience reminded him of his own sibling. He thought that maybe staying determined and reaching, helping, and fixing things would... do something. Perhaps he had to be more like them, more like Chara. But he was hopeless now. Nothing he did ever lasted, nothing he did made him feel right.

"Hurts, doesn't it? Some things never change. She writes letters but she will never do anything with them." He dropped the letter and went back to rest for what was left of the night, hoping to restore his HP.

* * *

The "Riverperson'' was never just one monster. There were three of them. Their family had been passionate about sailing for decades; some said they had the reputation even before the war, and ever since monsters found a stream that connected all areas, the River family had dedicated itself to provide quick travel to everyone in the Underground. When it was nighttime, and most monsters outside were nocturnal creatures, only one of them was around. They gazed at the Snowdin port. All three siblings had great intuition, and that night, they agreed, was bound to be interesting.

"Greetings. Would it be possible to make use of your service tonight?" a soft voice asked.

The river monster turned to face the source of the voice and saw a tall white furry monster. They resembled most inhabitants of the small town, with a thick layer of fur covering their features. But something about their presence radiated a sense of grace. A good River monster made no distinction among their travelers, so they simply pointed to the empty space on their boat.

"Tri li li, where would you like to go?"

"Take me to Hotland, please,” the monster said calmly

The Riverperson took off with their only passenger for that ride.

It was late, but despite the time, a few nocturnal monsters could always be found wandering the streets, among the low-glowing lights. The sight of the new monster immediately sparked rumors, catching the attention of the few awake. From the forest, a Whimsun flew, carrying news from the Ruins. The great door deep in Snowdin forest had been opened, and its caretaker was making their way to the capital. Young monsters were perplexed by the story, but older, wiser ones knew this meant great incoming change for the whole kingdom. Nobody knew for certain what had become of Queen Toriel after the deaths of her children, but it seemed that the words carried by the small flying monster could be the solution to the century old mystery. Soon enough, word was spread in the snowy town among the elders. They were careful and cautious, not to make quick assumptions, but staying alert.

The ride across the cave system had not been long, but it certainly felt like eternity, even for a monster with such a long life as Toriel. She was worried sick, wondering whether the human child had been harmed. As she set foot on Hotland, and waved the Riverperson farewell, the feeling of unease only increased. She did not know where the child had gone. All the monsters she had spoken to had little to no information, seeing as they weren't awake during the day, and therefore hadn't seen anything worth noting. However, as Toriel walked through the dry roads, she noticed flyers, all related to a human kid that had been spotted in Hotland, as a guest on the Underground's greatest celebrity's shows. She walked faster, hoping to reach New Home soon. Time felt so slow, each step lasting a small eternity in her anxious mind.

By the time she had reached the castle, the artificial lights were starting to get brighter. She was determined to reach her destination. She could not allow Asgore to take another soul, and she was going to stop him herself if she had to. She would not let another child be hurt by him. Her steps covered longer distances, as she walked across the familiar hallways. Her breathing was fast, and her paws felt heated with anxiety, small fire bullets dancing around her fingers. She paid no mind to the monsters that walked around her, except to ask about the king once: a tall catlike monster indicated that the king was last seen at the throne room last evening, but was not seen leaving the place ever since. As she approached the throne room, an odd feeling made her magic shiver. There was no sight of the King.

She walked in, careful not to step on the golden flowers that decorated the room. In a way, both of them had remembered their children using those flowers. She shook the thought out of her mind, and she went across the room to a smaller entrance. That room had a single orifice at the ceiling, letting the first rays of the morning sun go through. No sign of the King, either.

She feared the worst.

She prepared her fire attacks.

She breathed deeply.

She stepped into the room that led to the Barrier.

She dropped her attacks, which disappeared in an instant.

Before her was a crown, and an armor covered in a purple cape. Dust on the floor, and an ear-ringing silence. A gardening knife was a few feet away.

This was the day the Underground's King had perished.

This was the day a human made it out of the monsters' world alive.

This was the day things would change forever for their kind.

The Queen took the crown. Her expression was solemn, and she braced herself to make the announcement known to everyone in the Underground.

"King Asgore has died."