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caroldantops · 17 days ago

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baby, it's cold outside

ship: dark!agatha harkness x female!reader

summary/request: darkfic; you're invited to agatha's christmas party, but you're afraid to make a move. lucky for you, agatha is more than willing to take things into her own hands.

word count: 3396

dead dove do not eat - this fic contains dark elements including rape/non-con, drugging, hints of victim blaming. proceed at your own discretion.

other warnings: non-magic au, smut (18+), top!agatha, praise, fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), light pain play (agatha slaps reader's body once), i think this qualifies as whump, pet names (darling, good girl, baby, and a couple more)

(I genuinely feel like I'm missing some important warnings so let me know if you think there's something i should add here)

masterlist | ao3 link

The wind practically knocks you over as you try to climb up the few stairs up Agatha’s porch. Christmas lights twinkle in the darkness, illuminating the snow that’s gently falling. Your mittens do little to block the cold, hands shaking as you reach up to knock on the door.

The fog from your breath hangs in the air as the door swings open. Alice greets you with a sweet smile. “Hey, you! You made it! Come in, come in, it’s freezing out here.”

“Thanks,” you smile, stepping in and sighing with relief as warmth envelops you. “I like your sweater.”

“Fun, right?” Alice closes the door behind you, posing so you can see her sweater in full. It has a cute silhouette of a witch on a broomstick, being pulled by a group of reindeer. “Kind of a mash-up of holidays. Speaking of outfits, you look amazing tonight.”

“I think I’m overdressed, to be honest,” you laugh as you shed your coat. You definitely regretted asking Jen of all people for outfit comparisons - she always overdressed for any occasion, and it made you lean towards a velvety black dress. Like Alice, it seems like the other guests milling around are dressed more casual. “Maybe I should just grab my sweatshirt from my car or something.”

“Don’t you dare,” Jen says as she approaches you. Seeing the sparkly, emerald green dress she’s wearing gives you a bit of relief. At least you don’t stand out the most here. Flying under the radar was usually your go-to. The only reason you even dared come to a party hosted by someone you barely know was from Jen and Alice convincing you that it would be fun.

Jen soon gets distracted by gossiping with Lilia, but Alice is kind enough not to abandon you. The party is actually pretty nice, despite your initial hesitance to even show up. There’s not very many people crammed into the house - just enough that it feels cozy and chatter fills the space.

The weather outside starts getting worse through the night, unbeknownst to you as you’re tucked into the cozy library with a few others who prefer the quieter atmosphere.

Though the night is still young, people have started slowly leaving, claiming that they want to get ahead of the inclement weather. You start to wonder if maybe you should leave a bit early as well, but Alice assures you that if it gets particularly bad, you can stay at her place since she’s much closer. So, you put that thought aside and just enjoy your evening.

While you’re telling Alice about a weird customer that keeps showing up at the coffee shop you work at, your eye catches a glimpse of the host for the first time tonight as she waltzes into the room.

Agatha Harkness. The older woman is dressed in a blood-red sweater and simple dress pants, some elegant rings and necklaces sparkling under the light. She’s talking to Jen and Lillia, the former of whom being the reason you even knew Agatha. You’d only talked a couple of times when Jen would drag Agatha along on a coffee run, but you’d always been a bit enamored with her beauty.

You weren’t even really sure what she did for work - and if your friends knew they’ve never filled you in. All you knew is that she was a very powerful woman, with very powerful connections. Even Jen, who was frankly unintimidated by most people, had to admit that Agatha was a bit scary.

What Agatha wanted, she got. And if something tried to stop her, there would be hell to pay.

Alice nudges you, giving you a knowing look.

“What?” You roll your eyes at her.

“You’re painfully obvious, you know that right?” Alice raises an eyebrow, a playful smile on her face. “Go say hi.”

“Well, I don’t want to interrupt their conversation…” The end of your sentence trails off as piercing blue eyes meet your gaze. Instincts tell you to look away, but some unknown feeling overrides that.

Time seems to stand still as you mull over how little you know Agatha and how much you’d like to know. She regards you, blatantly ignoring the conversation she’s supposed to be participating in. Eyes scanning you, calculating.

Maybe even hungry.

With that thought, you’re the first one to break, pulling out your phone to fake distraction. With your gaze now averted, you miss Agatha’s lips quirk up in a smirk. She watches as you turn back to Alice, clearly flustered, and clearly not intending on making any sort of move.

Lucky for you, she’s more than happy to take things into her own hands.

“Alice,” Agatha’s booming voice cuts through the noise of the party. Alice looks up as Agatha struts over, boots thumping on the floor with determined purpose. “Would you be a dear and keep those two from starting a karaoke session? They’re both about one glass of red away from breaking into Mariah Carey, and frankly I’d rather risk walking across a frozen lake right now.”

Alice rolls her eyes, but gets up to go make sure the others behave. Agatha sighs, plopping into the now empty seat next to you. Her nimble fingers trace the rim of the wine glass she’s been nursing. “Jen said you’d be coming.”

“Oh, she did?”

Stupid. Of course she did, she told you she would. In your nervous fumble, you reach for the drink Alice got you earlier. It’s remained almost untouched so far, but you’re desperate for an excuse to not talk.

And, in a true feat of spectacular coordination, you manage to knock it into your lap.

“Shit!” You groan.

“Oh, dear,” Agatha juts her lip out in sympathy. “On such a pretty dress too! Come on, I’ll help you clean up.”

You take a couple of napkins and blot ineffectively at the stain. “It’s okay, this is enough to dry it at least…”

“Nonsense,” Agatha scoffs, putting her own glass down and standing up. You look at her, puzzled as she just stands there, before you realize she’s expecting you to follow. She starts leading you through the house, down the halls that no guests were allowed in. “We don’t want that to leave a stain, I have a couple of things that should help.”

“Thank you, Agatha, really,” you say, trying not to analyze all the decor and photos that you pass as she leads you.

You end up being led down to the basement, carefully descending the creaky wooden stairs. The dwindling party can be heard above you, muffled music and footsteps reminding you that you’re not completely alone with Agatha.

Agatha shuffles some stuff around, looking through the bins near her washing machine. “Dear, do you have your phone on you? My eyes aren’t great in this darned dim basement light.”

You turn on the flashlight on your phone and pass it to her, waiting patiently as she rummages around. “Aha!”

Her grin is illuminated by the light of your phone, and you can’t help but smile - it’s infectious. She motions for you to come closer, turning on the nearby sink.

“Alright, give me your dress for a second.”

“What?” Your smile fades, and you recoil back in surprise.

“Your dress, it’ll be easier for me to clean if you just take it off,” Agatha says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. She analyzes your face, and you practically see the thoughts turning in her head as your own brain fumbles for what to do. “Here, one second.”

She grabs a couple of things from a laundry basket - a t-shirt and some sweatpants - and hands them to you. “Switch these out, and then I’ll clean your dress off.”

You nod, taking the clothing and changing as fast as you possibly can. Your head gets stuck in the shirt for a moment, and you miss the way Agatha’s eyes rake over your bare torso and lacy bra. As your head pops out, she quickly turns her attention to your dress, rinsing it and applying some cleaning product, rubbing the fabric gently in her hands.

“Ugh,” Agatha groans suddenly.

“What’s wrong? Not coming out?”

“No, the stain came out fine, but I think I wet it too much. It’s soaking, you can’t go out in this. I’ll hang it up to dry, but it’s gonna take a while,” Agatha ponders as she grabs a hanger. “You’re more than welcome to just keep those clothes for now.”

“Oh, okay,” you say, playing with the end of the shirt. You’re resisting the urge to rub your nose against the fabric - even after having been washed it seems to smell like Agatha. “Thanks again.”

“Of course, sweetheart, I’m happy to help,” Agatha beams. “I’m going to get this dress set up to dry, you go back upstairs and enjoy yourself. I’ll be right behind you.”

When you get back upstairs, you realize that most of the guests have left. In fact, it seems like it’s just your friends left. Even the neighbors who live just down the street have retired for the night.

Alice spots you approaching and sighs with relief. “There you are! I was trying to find you. I’m going to need to take Jen and Lilia home. They’re in no state to drive. What are you wearing?”

“Oh, I spilled my drink, Agatha’s hanging up my dress to dry,” you say, clearly embarrassed. Alice, the saint that she is, does not take the opportunity to tease you for being in Agatha’s clothes.

“Gotcha.” A loud thump comes from the other side of the room, and you both look over to see Jen picking Lilia up off the floor, both of them drunkenly giggling. Alice sighs, “You’re good to drive, right? They live on the opposite side of town from my place, so if you do need me to pick you up on my way back, just call me okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” you assure her. “I didn’t get a chance to drink anything before I spilled it on myself. I’m just going to thank Agatha for helping me out and then probably head out.”

“Okay, be safe. And seriously, call me if you need anything.”

“I will, I will,” you instinctively reach for your phone to see that it’s charged enough, but you realize you must have left it downstairs. The trio leaves in a whirlwind, and suddenly you’re left alone.

Well, not completely alone.

“Good grief, did everyone decide to do an Irish goodbye?” Agatha returns from the basement and immediately makes her way to the kitchen to make herself a drink. She sees you standing awkwardly and nods at the sofa. “Take a load off, honey. Your dress will probably at least be dry enough to wear comfortably in a little while. Might as well enjoy the fireplace while you wait.”

You hear her humming to herself from the other room, and you gaze contentedly at the crackling fire, curling your legs under you. The wind outside rattles the windows. You gasp as you look outside for the first time in a while. It’s started snowing so hard that it’s hard to see, and you can tell that it’s piling up on the streets.

“Shit, I should really try to get home,” you start to stand up, but a firm hand is placed on your shoulder, and a warm mug is shoved in your hand. You give Agatha a confused look as she sits next to you, a steaming mug in her own hand.

“Honey, it’s getting real bad out there. Alice said you live across town, yeah?” Agatha says, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “I think it’s a bit too late to try to start driving. Good thing is, the other ladies probably made it at least back to Lilia’s place by now. They’ll probably huddle up there for the night.”

“Yeah…How am I going to get home though?” You look at the drink Agatha handed you, realizing it’s not alcohol but hot chocolate, the top foamy with already melting whipped cream. You take a sip, sighing as the warmth fills your body.

As you ponder your options, you take a few more sips. Agatha wipes the whipped cream that catches on your upper lip with a napkin, and you’re suddenly acutely aware of how close she is. You kind of want to shift away, but your body feels heavy, and the way she’s looking at you has you paralyzed.

“Stay here,” Agatha whispers, breath dancing against your skin. “You can drive home in the morning once they clear the streets.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” you shake your head, taking another big sip of your drink, frowning as you realize you’ve almost hit the bottom. “I can figure something out…”

“Doubt any cabs are out tonight.”

“Seriously, Agatha, I appreciate the offer, but I should probably go,” you start to stand up, but are hit with a sudden dizziness, and immediately sit back down. “Woah…”

“You okay, baby?” Agatha asks, but her voice doesn’t sound concerned. Or surprised.

Your stomach churns a bit. The room feels like it’s spinning, and the lights all suddenly feel way too bright. “I don’t know. Was there alcohol in this drink?”

“Not a drop,” Agatha answers.

“I dunno what’s wrong then,” you mumble, your words are slurred. Desperately, you try to put the pieces together and figure out what’s wrong, but everything feels muddled now.

“Maybe you ate something bad earlier? Here, lay down on the couch, baby.”

When did she start calling you that? You try to respond, but the words come out too muddled to understand. Agatha guides you onto your back, your head resting on a throw pillow. All of your muscles feel simultaneously heavy and weak, and you need Agatha to guide you down so you don’t just flop like a fish.

“Agatha,” your word comes out as a strangled whine. “What’s happening?”

“It’s okay, I’m right here,” Agatha says, her voice deep. She’s hovering over you, and you feel a shudder run through your body as she hits you with that hungry look again.

Wait.

The only thing you’ve drank tonight was what Agatha made you, but…she wouldn’t have.

Right?

If your eyes didn’t feel so heavy, you’re sure they would’ve looked up at her wide in sudden realization. Nevertheless, it seems like she reads the change in expression on you, the shift from confusion to sudden fear. Agatha laughs, low and menacing.

“So cute. I was almost worried that I wouldn’t even get the chance. But thank god for the others leaving early, hm?” The shirt Agatha gave you is tugged up, and her thumb catches your bra as well, pulling both articles of clothing over your chest in one motion. You try to wiggle away with what little strength you have, but Agatha shifts quickly, straddling your thighs and keeping you in place.

“Pretty tits,” Agatha says, and you don’t know if she’s speaking to you or herself.

“Ag’tha.”

“Shh, darling. Just let it happen,” Agatha’s face hovers over yours, her pupils blown out and dark, and your stomach twists as you realize how much this is turning her on. Drugged and delirious, you’re at her complete mercy. And she couldn’t be happier. “I’m going to take such good care of you. I don’t break my toys. Not permanently, anyway.”

Agatha’s lips press against yours, and she doesn’t even care that you’re too weak to reciprocate. She grips your chin with one hand to keep you in place, her soft lips peppering your face with kisses. It would be sweet, in any other context. You’re sure that her shiny red lipstick is all over your face, and that it’s leaving a red trail as she drags her lips down your neck.

Her teeth sink in, and you give up your feeble attempts at fighting it. Agatha must feel you go completely limp (well, more limp than you already were), because she chuckles against your skin as she soothes the bite with her tongue.

“Good girl. So good when you let me give you what you need.”

The drugs in your system make it hard to register what’s happening. Agatha’s hands are on you, but you’re unable to keep up with every pinch and grope as she explores your body. A sharp tug of your nipples is enough to give you a jolt of awareness, and you moan pathetically in response, your body betraying you.

“Oh, you like being hurt?” Agatha tugs again and gives your tit a sharp slap as well. You groan, drool starting to drip from your lips. “Dirty girl. Bet your pussy is fucking wet too.”

She slips her hand under the waistband of your pants, nimble fingers finding your damp cunt. Her mouth opens in a dramatic gasp. “I was right! You like this, huh?”

You babble nonsense in response, your no’s coming out incoherently.

“What was that? You love it? Aw, baby, you flatter me,” Agatha kisses you again, not caring about the trail of drool on your cheek. She pushes her fingers into you, meeting some resistance as you’re not quite wet enough to take her so quickly. Your hips twist as the feeling of her fingers dragging against the walls of your cunt makes you flinch. “Take it, take it like a good girl for me. This is what you wanted, right? You were so obvious, with all that staring and how nervous you got around me. You were practically begging for this.”

“Don’t…”

“Found your voice again, it seems. Probably not for long.” Agatha clicks her tongue, shrugging as she shuffles down your body, tugging your pants down enough that your cunt is exposed. She kisses down your mound, groaning as she reaches her prize. Nose nudging your clit, she inhales your scent and moans, the vibrations close enough that your clit throbs in response. “Fuck.”

All the sensations are reduced to vague feelings as Agatha starts to lick you in earnest. Warm. Wet. Feels good. Darkness clouds your vision as you start slipping in and out of consciousness. Fingers again, prodding at your hole. Thrusting in, curling, working you better than anyone ever has. When did she slip a third finger in?

“Come on, baby, want you to cum all over my fingers,” She mumbles against your clit before flattening her tongue against it, fingers curling against your sensitive walls again.

Your body shudders, but you can’t even tell if it was an orgasm. The woman you’ve been lusting after is fucking you through climax, and you’re not even going to remember it. Maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll forget this whole thing. Or at least enough to deny it.

Because as fucked up as it is, some pathetic, yearning part of you still wants Agatha. She’s drugged and taken advantage of you, yet there’s a part of you hoping that this isn’t a one time situation, that she’ll still want you when you’re fully awake and able to enjoy yourself.

God, there’s not enough therapy in the world to even start to tackle that, you think.

Suddenly you realize you’re crying, salty tears hitting your tongue as you breathe heavily. Agatha crawls back up your body, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Baby, it’s okay, it’s okay. We’re done. You did so, so good for me.”

“Good?”

“Yes, very good,” Agatha kisses the tears from your cheeks. She rearranges your clothes so that you won’t get cold, and pulls a blanket off the back of the couch to drape over both of you. The position is awkward, since you can’t really move much, but she manages to squeeze herself into a space where she can hold you. “C’mere, darling. You took that so well. Let me hold you, pretty.”

“Aggie,” you mumble against her skin when she pulls you against her chest, unable to conjure her full name.

“Yes?” Agatha hums, stroking your hair.

“Why?”

Silence falls over the two of you for a moment as Agatha lets the question hang in the air. You can feel her heart thumping, feel the way her hands stroke soothing circles into your skin. The last thing you hear before you finally fall into a deep sleep is her voice.

“Darling, I always get what I want.”

#agatha harkness x reader #darkfic #dark!agatha harkness #rape tw #noncon tw #drugging tw #c: agatha #silver writes #merry christmas everyone have a rape fic #is this the heaviest ive written? i think it is #maybe the uhhh nancy fic i wrote for one kinktober is similar in intensity

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schoenpepper · 5 months ago

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Isekai'd Chronicles 1

Intro: Scarabia in an isekai AU.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, attempted murder on Kalim's part, also proofread by quillbot

A/N: I tried making Kalim's longer but I really don't know what else to write for him. He's still a cutie pie though.

Masterlist

An invitation makes its way to your teeny tiny hands after a week of your reincarnation (transmigration, maybe; what isekai genre is this?). You can't read it yet, but your nanny informs you that Prince Kalim Al-Asim is inviting you to tea the next day, something about missing your presence in the palace. You don't believe a five-year-old even knows what "presence" means, but an invitation from royalty is nothing to scoff at. Immediately, you're suited up and shipped off to the palace for a glorified playdate.

Luckily for you, Kalim isn't really much to be wary of, be it now or in the future. He's the sweetest of all the male leads, innocent and naive, and an easy level capture. You two have tea together, and you find him harmless enough that you don't mind continuing the weekly playdates that you'd previously canceled. You teach him things your tutor taught you over the course of the week, and it's really easy to treat him like a cute little brother. He, in turn, tours you around the palace even though he doesn't have it memorized, and you two sit together and make silly jokes while waiting for some maid to find the both of you when you're lost. At some point, he gets really clingy and even starts crying when you're away for too long. Your parents assure you it's fine, and the queen and king don't mind having you over often enough to the point that every other day you're by Kalim's side, getting tutored at the same time.

Maybe he's a little bit overly clingy, though, and you chalk it up to him imprinting on you like a duckling. Eventually, instead of coming to the palace on days you're free, it becomes a cycle of you going to him and him visiting you at your own house, where he insists you walk around the garden and teach him the names of plants you barely even remember yourself. He's adorable, and you don't see it changing any time soon. So you pat yourself on the back and tell yourself that's one capture target down.

"Kalim!" Your little body tackles the crown prince to the ground, an arrow barely grazing your ear. It hurts; it's bleeding, but you force yourself to smile because if you don't, Kalim will—

Oh no, he's already crying.

There's a lot of movement in the background as Kalim's guards move to find the assailant, but you're focused on the teary ruby eyes that are fixed on the wound on your ear.

"You, you're hurt...I'm sorry..."

"It's not your fault, Kalim," you assure him, patting his head. Physically, you were younger, but you've always felt that this kid should be protected. "It's okay. We're fine. We're both still alive. That's all that needed to happen, right?" Kalim nods, but more and more sobs escape him as he clings onto you.

"I'll keep you safe from now on!" Kalim says through shaky breaths, and you laugh even when the wound hurts so much it feels like a mark burned onto your skin.

"Okay, Kalim. You can keep me safe."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

One playdate is a bit different from usual. You think it might be the new tea flavor served during snack time, or maybe it's different because your favorite cookies are occupying half the tray. Or maybe it's different because a pair of dark brown eyes are burning holes into the back of your head.

Jamil Viper is certainly a step up from Kalim—though he's socially of lower status, he was smarter, more cunning, cleverer, and competent at most things. As the second son of a baron, he'd been sold into the royal family as a personal aide to Kalim. In the game, he was a very difficult target, and his signature magic made for a much bloodier ending for the villain than Kalim's. But right now, he's just a five-year-old kid who's jealous that you get to have tea and snacks at the table while he has to stand next to Kalim and endure. You invite him to sit with you both after sending the maids away, and he begrudgingly accepts your offer, if only to bring relief to his tired legs.

Jamil isn't hateful, really; he's just pitiful. Maybe you can help him out a little bit so he doesn't betray Kalim like he does in the game, as Kalim is now your friend. You invite Jamil to more than just tea parties, and he learns to accept without a scowl. You manage to convince the king and queen to let Jamil study with you and Kalim, and the three of you find ways to pass the time in the enormous palace once classes are done. He might be warming up to you, you think, when a big bug flies towards him and you're the person he runs to, even though there are lots of adults around. Or maybe he just hates you and wants the bug to be up in your face. Who knows?

Kalim wasn't very academically inclined, though, and eventually, you and Jamil are being tutored separately from the prince. It hurts your ego a little that a kid is as quick on the uptake as you are, but Jamil's always been smart. He's resourceful too, and he always beats you at mancala, but he's good company and conversation somehow. And you decide, as you help plait his hair while he complains to you about how Kalim stormed into his room because he had a nightmare, that Jamil is harmless enough to be checked off your list of capture targets that will kill you.

Maybe.

"What do you want to be in the future?"

Jamil cracks one eye open to glare at you, huffing out a response. "Don't be silly." He closes it again. "I can only ever be Kalim's aide to the end, right?"

In the years you've known him, you know well enough that he didn't mean to be snippy. You pat his head and whisper back, your voice cracking funnily due to puberty. "You got an invitation to that magic school, right? When you become a really good mage, I'll talk to the king and queen for you." Being childhood friends with an Al-Asim meant they practically treated you as their own at this point. "I know you'll do great, so tell me what you want to be when you're free. What do you want to do?"

Jamil stops as he takes in your words. "You'd do that for me?"

"Sure I will."

"Then...maybe I'll go to the mage tower. And earn myself a title that's good enough to marry into higher nobility."

"Huh? Why would you want that?"

"It's a secret."

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #scarabia #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #jamil viper #kalim al asim x reader #kalim al asim #kalim x reader #twst x reader #gender neutral reader #x reader

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woahjo · 10 months ago

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The People We Became (Bakugou x Reader)

masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Zombie Apocalypse Au.

The world fell apart almost a year ago and you refused to go with it. Left alone and to your own devices in a world full of monsters, where the dead come back to life, you believe that maybe surviving isn't living.

When Katsuki finds you alone in the woods and on the precipice of collapsing from exhaustion, he decides to bring you back to the house his group calls home. Against your better judgement and hesitancy to become attached, you decide to stay. In this world, everyone has lost someone. No soul is spared the violence, and you start sleeping with Bakugou Katsuki to dull the ache. Somehow, peace finds you anyway, but not without sacrifice.

Chapter Content Warnings: fem!reader, gender neutral pronouns, strangers to lovers, violence typical of zombies, blood, gore, romance, slow-ish burn (for the emotional stuff), angst, kissin', questions of identity, loss, grief, graphic depictions of death and/or violence, mentions and descriptions of starvation/exhaustion typical of an apocalypse setting, very slight implications of possible sexual violence typical of an apocalypse setting, derealization, depersonalization, weapons (guns, blades, and traps), loss of identity

All content warnings can be found on ao3 with the rest of the series.

Word Count: 14.4k — 53k total on ao3

A/N: it's finally done... i'm sweating. i screamed. i cried. i bled. you know the drill. i am posting this a little differently than my other fics and series. only the first chapter will be posted here on tumblr (this post), with the rest of it broken up into chapters and posted on ao3.. purely because it was originally meant as a one shot and i don't like posting chapters on tumblr. it's not built for that and im tired. anyway, im nervous this is my new baby and im pretty sure my soul is somewhere in here. if u read this, pls come tell me what you think.. it fuels me. enjoy, cry, sweat, or whatever else you do when you read. as always, thank you and i love you.

Two hundred and seventy six. It’s been two hundred and seventy six days since the world completely went to shit. You don’t really count the initial outbreak. The initial outbreak was relatively contained once people found out about it. You quarantined. You stayed inside. All it really took were a handful of idiots. Someone selfish. Someone who panicked and ran instead of facing the world honorably, and that was it. It only took days to lose almost every semblance of a normal life and a week to lose everything else.

The light of your fire is dim, embers burning low as you sit in a foldable chair beside it. The chair is from a friend, someone you’re not with anymore and who went somewhere you couldn’t follow, and you've got a metal spatula in your hand. You're not sure why you grabbed it when you fled, but panic does weird things to the mind. You absentmindedly wonder why you’ve brought it along with you all this time. There’s no logical reason for you to tote the thing around. A friend had told you how strange it was that you thought to toss it into your bag and continue carrying it. This, along with a few other oddities, are all you managed to take from your house when the world fell to ruin. Everything else are things scavenged along the way or from people you'd met, joined, and lost.

Maybe it’s because the spatula is somewhat normal, like somehow when you cook the game on your makeshift tin over your shitty fire, you can pretend you’re in your kitchen. A smash burger sounds good right now, with grilled onions on a brioche bun like the ones from the place by your apartment.

The night is near silent and trees creak and crack like the hulls of great ships under heavy pressure, but the birds don't sing and nothing in the crowded wood you're taking shelter in makes a sound. Well, except for you and the gentle crackle of your fire.

It’s easy to miss the noise that used to irritate you when the world goes quiet. You used to hate the sounds and lights of passing trucks when they’d cross on the street below your apartment window. Now, you’d do anything for the familiar comfort. The world is so dark and quiet, like it’s holding its breath and waiting for this to be over. The silence is almost too much, so loud that it hurts your ears. You huddle closer to the fire, craving its quiet sound. Focusing on it lessens the anxiety of the other noises. The ones you don’t want to hear.

Your head is on a swivel. It has been for months. Ever since the outbreak, ever since the dead rose and began consuming and infecting the living, you've kept watch. A paranoid, never ending cycle that you suppose—if left on your own—will burn itself out. You swallow thick and return your attention to the fire, watching the tree line just in front of you for any hint of movement or monsters.

A branch cracks just behind you. A swift sound, followed by rapid footsteps. You stand, quickly turning your head, only to see a figure a few feet away from you. They move quickly and the dancing light of the fire obscures their features from view. Their eyes, most importantly. You can always tell if someone is dead or alive based on their eyes and the sounds that their joints make. In this light, should this stranger have that milky white film over them, you wouldn't be able to tell.

You make a small noise, something between a whimper and a shout, as the person comes to a stop in front of you and holds a flashlight directly into your face. You squint, panic in your veins as your eyes adjust as best they can to the sudden assault. It takes you a moment to realize that there is a gun pointed directly at your forehead. The living. This person is alive. You're not sure yet if encountering one of the dead would have been worse.

"Shut up and drop your weapon," he says in a hurried voice. It's aggressive and threatening. It comes from deep in his chest, like somehow fear has gripped and mutilated it into something violent.

You raise your shaky hands to your head quickly at the order, screwing your eyes shut in the beam of the flashlight.

"It's not a weapon!" you shout, voice cracking. "It's a spatula. It's a spatula."

The words are rushed and heavy, fear seizing your chest as you look down the barrel of the gun. The flashlight turns off, sending you back into the dark. Your eyes fight to adjust, catching the firelight that glints off of the barrel, and you begin to makeout the man’s features. He's big, blonde under the grime, you think. A man, not the best thing to encounter alone at night in times like these.

You see him hesitate for a moment, eyes darting between you and the silver kitchen item in your hand. You drop it quickly, hoping to appeal to his humanity.

"Do you have a weapon on you?" he questions, voice a little less urgent.

You shake your head in response and then shakily look beside the chair, choking out the word “ground”. There's a knife there and a pistol with no bullets. You're a poor shot and you had run out of ammo the previous week. He glances at it, the gun still raised at you, and sidesteps to grab the two items. When he does, he cautiously lowers the weapon and you start to lower your trembling hands.

Then, as if struck by some realization, the man stomps towards the fire and you jump as he does.

"The fuck are you doing lighting a fire this late?" he says angrily, opening the clip of your pistol. "And with no fucking bullets. Those things may be dead, but they can still fuckin' see. That's a good way to get yourself killed."

He stomps out the fire as he talks, urgently stamping out what's left of the low-burning logs.

"I didn't think there were many in the area," you justify, furrowing your eyebrows as you step away from him.

"And that's a risk you want to take?" he says indignantly. You wonder briefly what business he has worrying about you.

"What do you want?" you snap, "My food? Weapons? Life? What is it?"

The man scoffs, "Jesus, none of that. I don’t want your shit."

You narrow your eyes and take a step back. One thing this world has done is remove trust from every chance encounter, and that was already hard enough when the place was sane.

"Not all people who camp out in the woods are good," he says. "But I sure as shit didn't expect to find someone like you alone lighting a damn fire. Stupid."

"There were others," you say indignantly, like somehow that makes it better. "Force of habit, I guess."

The man pauses for a moment as understanding passes between the two of you. It's a relatable feeling. Everyone has lost someone now.

"Got a name?" he asks.

You hesitate in giving it to him and the pause causes him to roll his eyes. “You want me to call you Idiot-with-no-bullets instead?”

You give him your name and the man nods as if he likes the sound of it, turning it over in his head before inhaling.

"I'm Katsuki," he furrows his eyebrows. "You're alone?"

You nod, swallowing down the grief that pushes at your throat.

"Wasn't always," you respond, "but yeah. Now, I am."

He nods his understanding.

"Come with me."

"Where?" you say instinctively, a defensive edge to your voice. Katsuki looks at you as if you’re stupid, or maybe it's pity, like you're a wounded animal. Probably both.

"Where the fuck do you think?" he retorts. "We've got a camp a little ways from here. I saw your fire from the watch post we have stationed."

You look at him like he's a little crazy for even thinking to bring you. Kindness, especially the selfless type, is so rare now and you find it difficult to believe that he’s willing to take you there at no cost.

He scoffs and rolls his head over his shoulder. "Look, we've got men and women," then he pauses. "Used to have children. We're not gonna hurt you. World's gone to shit, do you really wanna keep at it alone?"

He's probably right. You've been alone for weeks now, exhausted for longer, and though your common sense tells you not to go off with a strange man in this kind of world, the promise of rest is far too tempting. You nod and glance back to your camp. A measly collection of supplies haphazardly put together. You suppose that it doesn’t look so promising.

"We'll come back for it when it's light," he says. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather not spend longer in these dark ass woods than I have to."

"Okay," you say. The presence of another person both sets you on edge and makes you feel the press of fatigue even more. A gun's barrel on your nose followed by the promise of safety and you're going with him? You must be stupider than a horror movie protagonist. "Do you take in a lot of strays?"

Katsuki looks over his shoulder and you think you see him smile a little at the phrase.

"If that's what you want to call it," he says begrudgingly. Then, with a softer tone of voice, barely noticeable with the quiet whisper you both have been speaking at. "I'm sure the others won't mind one more."

You nod a little and follow him through the wood, stepping over obstacles. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark, but you feel unsteady on your feet. Everything you’ve ever learned about this world tells you that maybe you shouldn’t go with him. What if they’re dangerous? It’s easy to lie about women and children, about a community that doesn’t exist. Or worse, it’s easy to fool yourself that where you are is good, but you don’t know yet if he’s the type to delude himself. He doesn’t seem it.

The two of you walk for what feels like forever, even if it is only a little over half a mile. Your feet have been aching for days and every step you take feels like a blade into the heel. Katsuki seems steady, his gun secured at his hip and a large knife in his dominant hand. He doesn’t have the flashlight out, but he seems sure-footed and takes every step in stride, as if he’s too heavy to be swayed by any missed step.

As you move, you can barely make out his back in the white tank top he wears. You use it as a landmark, following the glowing white as it catches the light from the moon. Like chasing a ghost through the trees.

Then, the wood eases up. The trees grow sparse and the suffocating humidity of the forest eases into a more breathable, open-air breeze. Katsuki steps out into a clearing. It’s relatively small, for how large the world is, but it’s some of the most open space you’ve seen in a while. The feeling of stepping out into the tall grass, where you’re both visible to any wandering thing, sends a rush of fear through you.

By the edge of the clearing, there’s a small house with a short steeple. It almost looks like a Christian church, but you get the sense that it’s likely a barn. That must be the watchtower and you wonder just how good the view of the forest is from up there if Katsuki managed to see the light of your fire. How many other people had seen your fires over the weeks and not made it out to confront you? How close had you come before to safety or annihilation?

"Hey!" a girl's voice calls. "He's back!"

In the near distance, you can see a large and dimly lit house. It looks a little worn down, but soft and hardly noticeable light emanates from it in a way that makes it seem inviting.You can’t make out its exact silhouette and night blurs just how broken-down it is, but you can tell that people live there in the same way you can tell when someone has just left a room.

Someone runs across the field to you both. It looks like a man and a woman, maybe around Katsuki's age. They move quickly through the tall grass and for a moment, the urgency that they move with frightens you. You worry that your presence will ignite some protective sort of panic. You linger back, letting Katsuki grow a little farther from you as they call out to him.

“Yeah, yeah," he half-shouts, no longer seeming to care about keeping quiet. Guess that's what happens when there's a group. "I found the fire I mentioned."

The two come to a stop in front of him, resting their hands on their hips as they catch the breath they lost.

"We started to get a little worried," says the girl. She's pretty, with big eyes and curly hair that looks like it probably used to be dyed. "You've been gone for a while."

"Well, I'm back," he says.

"And you brought a friend," the other man says, sounding shocked. His tone is noticeably kind. The boisterous type of kind and when he smiles, you can see that he has sharp canines. His hair is straight, sticking out in different directions, and tinged with red in this light.

"More like an acquaintance," Katsuki says. “I found them in the woods with a fire and an empty clip. Felt like their blood would be on my hands if I didn’t bring them back.” The red-haired man gives him a telling look and Katsuki scoffs in response and turns to the girl. "Get them settled, Mina, will you?" The girl called Mina nods and Katsuki takes off toward the house without another word.

"You're lucky," she says, pausing when you flinch as she steps closer. "You're gettin' the last solo room in the place. Kirishima, is it set up?"

Kirishima shrugs his shoulders. "You'd have to ask Izuku. He'd know all about that, but I can go check."

Mina shakes her head and turns her attention to you, giving you a quick once over with her eyebrows pulled together.

"You must be tired.”

When you nod, she gives you an empathetic smile and motions for you to come with her. "We'll fix that. You hungry?"

"What do you think?" you manage, saliva pooling in your mouth. "Do you have food?"

"Plenty," she smiles. "not quite enough for leftovers just yet though, don’t tell anyone."

You smile awkwardly. Who on earth would you tell?

"Sounds like a good deal," you say.

You follow Mina up to the house. Around it, there are a few parked cars. They look like they could pull out at any moment, and through the dust covered windows, you can just make out supplies in the back seats as you pass. In the distance, you can see the fuzzy silhouette of the barn you’d assumed was a watchtower in the dark of the field and you figure that maybe it used to be a place to keep livestock.

Mina doesn't say much to you as you pass through the field, and when you walk into the door, the first thing you notice is a large group of people seated at a dining table. They all look up at you when you enter and it's with a bit of shock that you register their faces as healthy. Well, healthier. These people live well. Something stirs in your chest, both anxiety and excitement at the thought of possibly having found somewhere safe. They blink at you for a moment, exchanging looks that all end up landing on Katsuki.

"This is the group. Well, most of us," Mina says pleasantly and with a light huff. "That's Izuku, Denki, Ochako, Sero, and you already know the handsome guy on the end there. Kiri's probably checking to see if the room is half decent.." They all greet you with a glad murmur. "Group, this is..."

She looks at you expectantly. When you tell them your name, you can't help but look at Katsuki who already knows it. He raises his eyebrows unconsciously and turns his attention to the glass in front of him.

There’s an awkward pause as you stand in the doorway, suddenly conscious of just how dirty you must look. Remnants of an older world, you suppose. No one really worries about things like that anymore.

“Uhm…” you search for something to say, but your people skills seem to have left you.

“You’re okay,” Mina says lightly. “Plenty of time to get to know you when you’ve rested and had something to eat.”

Mina sits you down at a chair that she pulls in from the other room. It doesn't match the other ones in the dining room, but you suppose no one is really thinking of the decor in their house anymore. It's only now that you realize the house has electricity.

"You have power?" you say incredulously, looking at the center light in the dining room on its low setting.

"Mhm," Mina hums as she sits down next to you and spoons a helping of vegetables onto your plate. "It's got a generator. We got lucky finding this place. I don't think many of us would be alive if we hadn't."

Those listening in the group nod their affirmation.

"It draws from well water too," she adds. "With the right care, the place practically runs on its own. Hard work but what isn't nowadays?"

“Like you do any of the heavy lifting," Sero scoffs across from her.

"That's not fair," Katsuki adds with a slick smirk, "you know damn well none of our vegetables would be so well socialized if she didn't use them like a damn diary all day."

The group laughs a little and Mina rolls her eyes and sits back in the chair. You avoid looking at anyone, shoveling the food into your mouth. You’re salivating an almost embarrassing amount, struggling to eat at a normal pace. There’s something about food cooked inside, about the way food tastes when you can smell it wafting in from the kitchen.

"Don't worry," she turns to you, as if you’re at all concerned with the implication that she doesn’t do much work, "they know we’d hardly have vegetables at all if it weren't my job to tend them. I used to garden quite a bit before all of this."

Sero tosses her a sideways glance and you get the sense that maybe it isn’t just her doing it.

"Mina does a lot of the garden stuff," Ochako pitches in, her voice hesitant. "We all sort of just do what we can."

You can’t really keep up with the conversation and instead just blink at her for a moment before turning back to your food. Maybe that’s rude, but you don’t have the energy to consider it. There’s food in front of you. Food that doesn’t taste like it’s been poorly slaughtered or rotting in a cabinet for months.

The group at the table with you shifts back into what you feel is their normal conversation and you watch them through your peripheral. You can’t relax yet, maybe you never will. Always on watch with your guard up.

They pass the dishes around the table, plates going from hand to hand over mismatched sets of silverware. The action feels strange to you. Your chest squeezes at the thought. Just a few weeks ago, you’d done this around a fire with the people you loved. You’d passed a too-hot-to-touch pot around a circle of friends, laughing quietly at the little moments of joy you could find. It feels far away now and jealousy rouses beside hope as you sit.

“So, where did you come from?” Izuku at the end of the table asks.

It takes you a moment to realize that he’s talking to you and there’s an edge to his voice that has everyone at the table sitting up with curiosity. You stare at him for a moment, exhausted and defeated and unable to muster the words.

“Leave them be,” Katsuki says, looking up from his plate. “They just got here. They’re probably freaked out.”

The table goes a little quiet, a hush falling over it. You look around as glances are exchanged before Mina stands up quickly and quietly claps her hands together.

“I think,” she says with an awkward laugh, “it may be time for bed.”

Mina turns to you. “I’ll show you where you can sleep.”

You nod, standing up and turning to the group with furrowed eyebrows. You want to thank them, to tell them that you’re grateful for the meal and their kindness, but the words don’t come. Instead, you meet Katsuki’s gaze, grateful for the intervention, but suspicious at such forthcoming kindness. He scoffs a little and turns away.

—

“It’s just up here,” Mina says as she guides you through the house.

You pass rooms with their doors ajar. They are lived in, with unmade beds and glasses of clean water on nightstands. It’s like something out of a life gone by, with a few less amenities. You can imagine a family moving through this house. Girls in school uniforms calling through the halls about a stolen hair clip. Now, you picture these people doing that. Living and not just surviving.

“The bathroom is across the hall,” she says. “You can take a shower if you want. I’ll leave a towel and some clothes in there just in case.”

You nod.

“No worries if you don’t,” Mina adds in a whisper. “When I first met everyone, I didn’t undress to bathe for days so… take your time. We won’t be offended.”

She shuts the door behind her when she leaves and you stumble back onto the bed, shocked by just how soft it feels after spending weeks on the floor. It’s not much, but it’s nicer than anything you’ve experienced in the last nine months, and there's a working shower. You haven’t had a shower since everything fell apart and the layer of grime on your skin is so thick that you can feel it. You haven’t felt safe enough to properly wash since you’d lost the rest of your group, only stopping to rinse your body in streams you pass if the thought occurred to you. The idea of running water and a shower is near euphoric.

You probably shouldn’t. It may not be wise to shower tonight. You still don’t know these people or what they’re capable of, but the temptation of being clean is too great and as soon as you hear Mina close the bathroom door and walk away, you hurry across the hall on the balls of your feet.

The bathroom looks old and the sink is white porcelain, eggshell now with a lack of care. The shower has a bathtub in it and though it’s cloudy, there’s a mirror over the sink where you catch the first clear glimpse you’ve had of yourself in weeks.

You don’t know who you’re looking at. The person in the mirror is nearly unrecognizable. Their eyes are wide and frightened, wild like an animal’s, and their face is covered in a layer of grime that looks like it can never be washed out. Their hair is unruly, sticking out in some areas and matted down with blood in others. This is a person you’ve never seen or met before. Someone you would have avoided only a year ago if you’d ever encountered them.

You reach up to touch your face, running your hand over the dried blood that has made a home on the underside of your jaw. How long has it been there? Have you always looked so unwell? So sick in mind and body? The promise of a shower grows unbearably pleasant.

The knob squeaks when you turn it, screeching as the pipes hum and clang to life. Water spits out in a few bursts before raining down from the faucet and hitting the back of the tub in a steady thrum. It sounds a little bit like music to you, constant and heavy, and it gives the impression of normalcy as you begin undressing.

The fabric of your clothes sticks to your skin, peeling from your body in an unbearable and disgusting way. You don’t look at your body in the mirror. In fact, you avoid it entirely. Not recognizing your face was enough, but your body—a part of yourself you never really recognized—would drive you over the edge.

Then, you pull the shower curtain back and stick your hand under the water, stepping into it fully with a deep sigh. The water is lukewarm. They probably turned off the heater to conserve power and allow the main generator to function for longer. That’s fine. Beggars can’t be choosers and everyone is a beggar nowadays. Besides, it’s warm enough outside that the water isn’t too cold as it is. In the winter, you probably wouldn’t be able to shower and the pipes might freeze entirely until the following spring.

There’s a normalcy that you settle into as you wash your body. You return to muscle memory, running your hands over your skin and scrubbing the grime out. It’s simultaneously like the first shower of your life and as if you’ve been doing it every day. You return to a state of pleasant, familiar humanity as you wash away dirt that has built up for weeks. You feel as it pours off of you, see it run down your body onto the porcelain of the tub and swirl down the drain. It’s dirt and dried blood that has been caked onto your skin. You worry that even after washing, it will leave a permanent mark.

The person in the mirror when you get out of the shower is in stark contrast to the person who went into it. They’re someone that you recognize. You could almost convince yourself that nothing ever changed. Your water-soaked skin is so familiar to you, that you could be getting out of the shower and dressing to go to work. If it weren’t for the look in your eyes, you could have fooled yourself. Something undefinable has changed in you, something that you will carry with you forever. You glance at yourself in the foggy mirror and think that there is no going back.

The house is quiet when you dry yourself and open the bathroom door. You step across the hall on the balls of your feet, careful not to make any noise, and when you push the bedroom door open, you do a visual sweep to make sure that it’s safe out of habit.

Your body is exhausted. You are so thoroughly tired that you think you could collapse at any moment, but when you sit down on the bed in your fresh clothes, you find yourself restless. This place is new to you and you’re unsure if the safe feeling is your mind playing desperate tricks on you or the real thing. The lamp by your bed is on, casting a yellow glow across the bedsheets and the dark wood furniture. Come to think of it, you didn’t get a good look at the house when you came in and the thought starts to bother you as you stare at the closed door to the hallway.

Someone could be behind it. They could be waiting for you to lay down, to sleep, before doing something awful. You almost feel guilty for thinking this way about them. They’ve fed you, given you a shower, given you fresh clothes. Luxuries you weren’t sure even existed anymore, yet you’re sitting here doubting them, wishing you had your pistol or knife.

The bedroom door creaks as you open it. You wince, nervous that you’ve disturbed the quiet peace of the house and that everything will come crashing down as quickly as it seemed to come together. The hallway is dark, save for some light coming from under two doors at the end of the hall. One of them turns out as you creep past it to the stairs, and you hear the distinct sound of box springs squeaking as someone crawls into bed. You let go of the breath you’d been holding, straightening up as you relax into the late-night environment.

The house looks old even from the inside. It gives the impression of having once been dirty and in near disrepair. There are dust stains and dull spots that no amount of scrubbing could get out. You can almost picture how this place may have looked when they found it and it’s entirely possible that it had been abandoned before the actual outbreak. Someone run out of their home for lack of money. What a trivial thing now.

The stairs are sturdy, probably held together so well by the foundation of the house, and they’re made of dark wood. They’re steep too, the kind that a baby or old person might trip over, and you hold the railing to calm the shaking of your legs as you slowly feel your way down. You can see the light on in the kitchen from around the corner, spreading out onto the floor of the old fashioned drawing room. Dishes clink in the kitchen, like someone is washing them, and you jump a little at the noise as you creep around the corner.

Kirishima is standing at the sink with his back to you, whispering something to someone beside him. The expanse of his back is broad, moving every time he goes to run his hand over the dish in front of him. Then, he turns to look at you and you see Mina pop her head around the corner.

“Oh,” Kiri says, “did you need something?”

You shake your head. “Not really, I just couldn’t sleep.”

Kiri nods sympathetically as if he knows the feeling. “Well, you look like you feel a little better at least.”

You pad over to where he’s doing the dishes and Mina offers you a soft smile and a knowing look. It all seems so normal. Doing the dishes, whispering quietly as they do. Something about it screams a kind of humanity you haven’t experienced in a long while, even with your last group.

“Are you sure we can’t get you something?” Mina says, furrowing her brows.

“Why are you all being so nice to me?” You ask. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“Is there some reason why we shouldn’t be nice to you?” Kiri says over his shoulder.

“No,” you shake your head. “I just think it’s reckless, that’s all. I could have been anyone.”

Kirishima and Mina exchange a look. They glance at each other, like they’re debating on saying something, and then Kiri turns and rests his palms on the back of the sink. He looks at Mina.

“We don’t usually decide to do this so quickly,” she admits. “We’re friendly, but nobody’s that friendly anymore.”

Kiri nods his agreement and you listen quietly, trying to determine if they plan to toss you back out into the woods in the morning.

“But, Katsuki doesn’t usually bring people in,” she continues.

“He’s a little more closed off than the rest of us,” Kirishima adds. “He’s a good guy, just takes a while to warm up, is all.”

“Mhm,” Mina says.

“What does that have to do with me?” you ask. “This is nice and all, but I’m sure you get why I’m wary.”

“He’s a good judge of character,” Kiri adds earnestly. “He doesn’t bring people in often, but when he does, he’s usually right.”

You nod, not quite understanding. Sure, you don’t plan to do anything terrible. In fact, you’re content to accept their kindness and stay, if they’d let you. Anything is better than being alone, but their blind trust in one man’s judgment of character makes you uneasy.

“He was alone for a really long time,” Mina adds. “A lot of us were. I got lucky meeting Kirishima early on, but Katsuki’s luck was a little less fortuitous.”

“So you all just… happened upon each other by chance?” You ask.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Mina says. “It was me and Kiri for a long time. Just the two of us. We’d found Izuku and Katsuki together a while later, but they didn’t seem to like each other all that much. We still haven’t really figured that out, especially because they’re so close now. Ochako and Sero ended up cornered together by accident. We found them just before we found this place, and Denki just sort of showed up here one day and promised to fix the generator in exchange for safety. That was months ago. We’ve been like this since.”

“So you’re all strays,” you say and Mina laughs a little and looks at Kiri.

“Sure,” she says. “We’re all strays. There were others too. Shoji. Jirou. She was Denki’s girlfriend.”

“I’m sorry,” you say with a frown. It feels pointless to apologize for the dead, if you get caught up in it, you’d be apologizing forever.

“Don’t be,” Kiri adds. “But best not to bring her up. It was pretty recent and Denki’s only just started to get over it.”

You swallow thick and nod a little.

“Anyway,” Mina says, “we can’t really explain it. We just trust him. We trust Katsuki. That’s all.”

“Hm,” you hum, understanding that to a degree.

You trusted the people in your group. If they believed in someone, you were willing to as well, so you suppose you can understand a little where they’re coming from.

“What are you talking about,” Katsuki rounds the corner, walking into the kitchen and putting his water bottle under the sink.

“Nothing really,” Mina says.

Katsuki furrows his eyebrows and then looks at you. He gives you a once over, taking in your new clothing before scoffing lightly.

“Don’t you look cozy,” he says. “You get settled?”

“When can I go get my stuff?” You ask.

“Someone’s eager,” he says through lightly gritted teeth. “Didn’t I tell ya we could go in the morning? Besides, what’s there really to miss in that lot of junk?”

“Katsuki!” Mina quietly chides.

“I have things I care about there,” you say. “Things I’m not ready to lose.”

Katsuki blinks at you for a second before swearing under his breath. “We’ll leave when you get up in the morning.”

“You don’t have to come with me,” you say, frowning a bit at his sour attitude.

“Like hell,” he scoffs. “What if the dead are waiting back there for you?”

“I made it this far on my own,” you respond.

Katsuki nods for a second. “I’m going. Come find me in the morning.”

He walks off and around the corner. You hear him go up the stairs, followed by the distinct click of a bedroom door shutting.

“Don’t pay too much attention to that,” Mina says. “It’s past his bedtime.”

“You’ll get used to him,” Kiri adds.

“Right,” you say, swallowing down your frustration in favor of trying to be appreciative of the help. You sway on your feet a little and then steady yourself. “I’m going to go to sleep. Thank you for the meal and the bed.”

Mina and Kiri nod, but you don’t stick around to hear a response. Fatigue creeps up on you. It ambushes your senses and you go from feeling dream-like to delusional in a matter of moments. You make your way up the stairs, your body feeling heavy as lead, and wobble your way into the bedroom they’re letting you stay in.

When your head hits the pillow, you’re out. The world around you fades to dark and just before you sleep, you swear that you can hear the sounds of cars passing on the highway. A busy night, Saturday maybe, and people go about their daily lives outside of the window the way that they always have. They live, never the wiser to just how quickly things fall apart and how little it takes for our humanity to leave us.

—

Mornings in this place are boisterous. The sun coming through the lone window in your room wakes you up and you can hear the calls of busy people getting to work outside. There are voices from the porch out front that your window looks over and though you can’t see them, you get the sense that they’re having a pleasant conversation.

As you rouse, you come to the realization of just how exhausted you’d really been. They probably saved your life by bringing you to this place, feeding you, and offering you a bed. In hindsight, it’s easy to see just how little you had left in you. You get the sense now that you’d been running on an empty tank for days, slowly coming to an inglorious, gruesome, sputtering stop.

Things seem a little clearer, like the sunlight is somehow less bleak than it had been the days previous and you feel a little bit like you have a new lease on life. There are no big emotions, no swells of hope or humanity just yet, and you dread the moment you are rested enough to let grief consume you. Right now, you can’t feel it, but there is a fear in you that as you get to know these people who live relatively beautifully in an ugly world, it will weigh you down so much that you’ll never be able to outrun it.

You wonder if they’ll let you stay. They very well may not, even with the way they were talking last night. Strangers are more dangerous than they’ve ever been and if they ask you whether or not you’ve killed someone, you refuse to lie to them. Sitting up on the bed, you mull over the very real possibility that you could be back out there on your own again in a matter of days and you don’t even have that many good acts under your belt to plead your case. You’re just a person and you’ve done what you needed to in order to survive. Now, you’re not sure if that’s enough.

You swallow thick, wandering over to the mirror on the dresser. It’s fogged, though less than the bathroom mirror, and you can make out your features a little better than you could last night. You feel a bit more sane, though you still don’t recognize the frightful and distrustful look in your eyes. Like a wounded animal. Inside your head, you acknowledge that you are completely different from the person you were two hundred and seventy seven days ago.

The voices grow louder as you climb down the stairs, more secure on your feet than you felt last night. You can hear them talking about the generator, as well as a name you don’t recognize.

“He should be back by now,” a woman says. “Shoto’s never gone longer than a day or two, max.”

“We shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” another woman says with a worried bite in her voice. Mina, maybe? “We’re only a few hours into the day. He probably got holed up somewhere.”

“Someone needs to go look for him,” a man says.

“And what? Risk getting yourself killed?” the first woman says. “No, it doesn’t make sense. We need you here.”

“You’d rather we leave him to die on his own?”

“No one’s fuckin’ dying.”

You recognize Katsuki’s voice.

“He’s perfectly capable of going on a gasoline run,” he continues. “He’s done it before.”

“I should have gone with him,” says the same woman.

“On that leg? You wouldn’t have made it halfway to town, let alone there and back,” his voice raises a little. “Don’t be stupid. He’ll be back.”

You clear your throat and step around the corner. The group turns to face you quickly at the sound, their eyes wide for a moment before relaxing. You can’t sneak up on anyone nowadays.

“Sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Is everything okay?”

It’s not your business, but you ask anyway, wondering for yourself about the safety of Shoto.

“Fine,” Izuku says, shaking his head. You recognize him to be the one who'd vouched for going after their friend. Katsuki takes a step away from the broad man as he says this. “Nothing for you to worry about. Did you rest?”

Izuku smiles gently at you, his chest inflating a little at the question. The movement broadens his shoulders and you realize that he stands almost a head taller than Katsuki. You look briefly between the two of them before nodding.

“I did,” you say. “Thank you.”

“Nothing wrong with a little hospitality now and then,” he smiles and you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows at the distinct hesitance in his voice.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” the woman standing across from Izuku says. “I’m Momo. Sorry I wasn’t there to meet you last night. I’ve been a little under the weather.”

You introduce yourself to her and glance down at her leg. Her ankle is swollen and wrapped in a bandage. Her sneaker laces are untied at the top to make room for the swelling and you can see that she’s guarding that side of her leg.

“Is it…?” you grimace, taking an instinctive step away from her. You almost feel bad for it, but sometimes good people make bad decisions when loved ones get bit.

“No,” she says quickly, “no, it isn’t. Caught an edge in an old chain link fence on the property a couple days back.”

Momo smiles slightly at you as if to reassure you. She’s really beautiful, with thick dark hair pulled back into a somewhat messy ponytail. Her eyes are bright, like she’s engaged in lively conversation, and you find yourself feeling a little sad for her. She’ll need medicine soon, if they can get it. Infections set in easily these days and you get the sense that even she knows that she may not have long without it. Maybe that’s something else their friend Shoto set out to find.

“I assume you’ll be wanting to go get your supplies?” Katsuki says, cutting the conversation short. Maybe he could sense the sour turn of thoughts.

“Ready when you are,” you respond with a nod.

Katsuki glances at Izuku, who gives him a slightly disapproving look.

“Someone get them something to eat,” Katsuki says. “...I’ll get my shit ready.”

“Fig jam…” Mina mumbles as she motions for you to follow her to the kitchen.

You oblige her, not exactly jumping to turn down a meal. She walks you into the kitchen and opens up a cabinet, where she pulls out a jar filled with a dark and seed filled paste. It’s a jam, sealed in a jar that looks older than what’s inside of it. The seal breaks open with a pleasant pop.

“This stuff is so good,” she says to you over her shoulder, pulling out a package of crackers that have likely gone stale. “You won’t believe it.”

She spreads the jam on a few crackers and sets it in front of you on a plate, pushing it across the counter towards you.

“It’s fig jam,” she says with a smile. “Homemade.”

You look down at the plate, your mouth watering at the prospect of something sweet like this. It’s been so long since you've had fresh jam. It could be as long as 10 years. You don’t think you’ve had it since you were a kid, when jam came easily and you preferred the processed brands at the supermarket to the ones your mom used to make sometimes.

You raise the cracker to your mouth and stuff it in with little grace. The sweetness spreads across your tongue as soon as you bite into the stale cracker. It fizzes and pops almost, the sugar melting across your tongue as the seeds crack softly between your teeth. The smile that hits your face is completely involuntary and though you know that nine months ago, this jam wouldn’t have been much, today it is something extraordinary.

Mina nods a kind of girlish agreement, like the way people used to when they had their friend try something at their favorite restaurant.

“We got here in the fall. I want to say late October or early November?” she offers. “We were starving and there wasn’t enough food to feed all of us. By that time there were like… nine of us.”

You listen as you eat your crackers.

“This place was in such an awful state,” she laughs. “I mean, really terrible. But, it was big and there was a fig tree in the back. A little thing, probably only a few years old and it had fruit on it. We ate so many of them that if the world were normal, we’d have sworn off of them forever. When we realized that the house actually had some old food in it,” she interrupts herself “-nothing good, canned stuff mostly- we decided to jar up the rest of the figs so that they didn’t rot.”

She smiles at you like it’s a pleasant memory, but you can only think about how hungry they must have been. Your stomach growls as you eat.

“I know it doesn’t sound like much,” she says, “but for some reason it’s a really nice memory. Honestly, we’re lucky we didn’t die.”

Mina laughs a little.

“I mean,” she continues, “we didn’t even clear the area before we started pulling at the figs and throwing them into our mouths.”

You tilt your head at her and furrow your eyebrows with a small smile.

“You’re really forthcoming with information.”

“You just seem a little hesitant, is all,” she answers.

“Can you blame me?”

Mina shrugs her shoulders but doesn’t really offer an answer. You assume it’s because she can’t, because Mina has the same doubts everyone carries with them in this world. All of the what ifs people would think about before they slept have become more prevalent than anyone would have ever liked.

“The jam is good,” you say, trying to be friendly in the same way she is. “Even if it is months old.”

“Things keep well in jars,” Mina defends softly, smiling a little as she gets another out of you.

This place feels like a little slice of paradise. A blessing from whoever lived here before and kept a garden stocked with vegetables. From someone who lived in an old house with stables and well-water, who kept canned food past its expiration date. It feels almost too good to be true, like these people live in a bubble bound to pop.

“You ready?” Katsuki thuds into the kitchen with an empty backpack slung over his shoulder.

You turn, startled by his sudden appearance and nod as you quickly finish chewing the last cracker. Katsuki furrows his eyebrows as he watches the way you scarf it down.

When you stand from the table, Katsuki turns on his heel to make for the front door and you follow with a light step. Mina says something about staying safe, but you don’t respond, glancing once over your shoulder at the girl.

It’s strange, the world has made you wishy-washy and uncommitted. You never used to be like that, never so distrusting as to second guess someone’s kindness the moment your back is turned to them, and you’re certainly not the type to be friendly one moment and closed off the next. Now though, you find that doubt creeps in easily through cracks and any foundation that didn’t exist before, seems to be swallowed before you can finish building it.

Katsuki leads you back across the small clearing you’d come through the night before. It looks different in the day, almost romantic, and it lacks any of the ominous feeling it had the previous evening. He steps over mounds in the dirt from moles and gophers that have made lawns their new home and you try to mimic his steps, sinking occasionally into a particularly soft patch of dirt. Every now and then, Katsuki glances behind him to check that you’re still there and you offer him a forced smile that he never returns.

You catch up to him when you hit the trees, sticking close at his side like something will come and take you away if you’re not. It’s unintentional, but you don’t have a weapon on you. Your knife is back at your makeshift camp, along with the unloaded pistol and your trusty spatula.

“How do you know where we’re going?” You ask in a whisper.

Katsuki tosses a look at you over his shoulder. “I’m good with directions.”

His tone is clipped, like he’s pissed about something, and your expression sours at it. Sure, you get it but it irritates you to some small degree. You hadn’t asked him to come along. In fact, you’d have been fine getting back here to collect your stuff on your own. You’d have asked for a knife and set out without a second thought, if only because being alone in the woods with some guy was less preferable than doing it by yourself. Of course, some guy also probably saved your life, but you’re not quite ready to relinquish your trust completely.

“Thanks for coming,” you decide. A peace offering.

Katsuki doesn’t answer and you furrow your brows a little bit. You wonder if he’s always been like this or if the end of the world brought on the loss of his manners.

Then, he stops, taking you by the arm and pulling you down beside a bush. You gasp and he puts his hand over your mouth to silence you. There’s the urge to bite him, to catch the fleshy bit connecting his thumb and pointer finger between your teeth and bite down till he bleeds, but you stop when you catch what he’s looking at.

Two of the living dead crouch by a tree, clicking their tongues as they eat something just out of sight. You furrow your eyebrows, eyes widening at the horror of it. For some reason, seeing them always brings about a round of momentary shock. You’ve yet to let go of the hounding thought that they used to be people and sometimes have to reorient yourself to the world you’re in now.

You catch Katsuki’s eye behind you, his calloused hand still clasped over your mouth, and nod your head. It’s a silent communication that you’ve seen what he has and he removes his palm from your face to grab a knife tucked into his belt, passing it to you quickly.

The two infected haven’t noticed the two of you yet, but they will soon, if only by the smell of your flesh which has yet to rot. You hear Katsuki let out a breath, as if to calm his heart, and do the same. There’s time to look at them like this and you’re struck by how human you can pretend they are in your head. Well, you suppose they were human once, now they’re a disease using someone’s skin as a mask.

Infected people aren’t quick, that’s one thing to be grateful for. Back when the outbreak first started, the CDC had released information on what to look out for in those who might have contracted the virus. The first was obviously a bite wound from another infected person, but you can tell from other symptoms. Early symptoms are average. Body aches, fever, lethargy, and delirium. All things you might see with a nasty flu. Then, infection of the wound site, twitching, foggy eyes—like low-grade cataracts—that develop within a matter of hours or days, severe disorientation, aversion to food, insomnia, with the final symptom being a coma that no one ever wakes up as themselves from.

These are the symptoms that people are conscious for. The ones they feel. The sickness that people tried to nurse others back from. There is no coming back though, not alive at the very least. The virus attacks the nerves throughout the brain and body, that’s what causes the twitching and convulsions. It’s what ultimately kills us, and it's what they think causes the bodies to come back.

Most infected will crack when they move. It’s the cartilage breaking down as the bones grind together and crack as they’re weakened from the marrow out. They twitch like rabid animals, unable to keep masterful control of their bodies because they are run like puppets from the brain stem. You don’t know if they think. If somehow the people they used to be are still in there, unable to stop themselves from consuming and spreading the virus to others. All you really know is that they twitch and click, functions of the brain that still remain. Tiny impulses sent through the synapses. You imagine it to be like the way you twitch when you sleep, an arm here or a leg there, the way someone might call out with their voice to a room with no one in it.

Maybe the infected think they’re dreaming. A nightmare that they never wake up from, like those of us who have to put them down. You could see it as a mercy from that perspective. You have an easier time rationalizing putting a knife in someone’s skull if you convince yourself that they’re silently begging for it.

Katsuki shifts his weight and looks at you. He mouths the words no guns and you nod, briefly wondering where the fuck he thinks you could have gotten a gun from.

Then, you kick off and run with Katsuki towards the infected. They don’t really have time to begin moving towards you both. You’re faster than them, but you hear the crack of their legs as they stand from their crouched positions, pulled in at the idea of their next meal.

Katsuki takes the farther one, sinking the knife into the soft spot of its temple with relative ease. You switch yourself off and take the one closest only a few moments later, sending your blade through the top of its skull. That happens to you when you have to do this. You turn yourself off for a bit, just so that you don’t have to remember the way it feels to hit the soft part of someone’s brain. You didn’t used to do that, only starting when you realized that there’s no going through this world anymore without it.

Katsuki wipes the blood on his pants. It’s brown, no longer oxygenated, and the area around you begins to reek. You notice, but for some reason the smell of decomposition doesn’t register in your brain and you continue on behind him.

There are a few beats of silence, save for twigs breaking under your feet, before Katsuki speaks up.

“You okay?” It’s barely above a whisper and you wouldn’t have caught it were you not listening for the distinctive crack of human bones.

“Yeah,” you say, continuing forward.

The campsite rounds into view and in this light, with your full night’s sleep under your belt, you can see just how pitiful it looks. A tent that you’d hastily put up before nightfall, the remains of your stamped out fire, the folding chair which has since been knocked over, and your weapons on the floor covered by a few leaves disturbed by the wind.

You snatch them up and move to grab your backpack out of the tent. The inside is shitty too and your torn sleeping bag hadn’t even been rolled out yet. You pick up the bag, returning to the folding chair as Katsuki begins to take down the tent. The polyester and nylon blend zips together as he makes quick work of folding it. Then, he kicks some dry brush over the remains of the fire, like he’s covering your tracks.

“The next person that comes through here might not be alone,” he says plainly. “And they may have more bullets than you did.”

“Right,” you respond. Your voice sounds a little far off and you settle your backpack on your shoulder in one quick motion.

“Got everything?”

You nod, following him as he heads out in the direction you both came from. The two of you pass the bodies of the infected you’d killed. The smell has permeated the air, lingering like how it does in cities, only less pungent. Their fogged eyes stare blankly at nothing, expressions plain and unreadable. You pass and try not to think much about it.

Katsuki is a few feet ahead of you and he doesn’t glance back to make sure you’re following. You could leave now and never get attached to these people. You could head off in another direction and never have to think twice about it. No more worrying about who you could lose, about who’s next to become one of the sick masses. Just you by yourself. Then, when you finally kick the can, someone else can put you down the way you did to those strangers.

Is there really a point to it anymore? To community or living in general. No one is as they once were. Does that make it fantasy to live in their beautiful bubble? Could you even find it in yourself to pretend again, to make nice and play house in that place? They saved your life, sure. They fed you, clothed you, bathed you, but for what point? Tomorrow, you could end up back in the woods, lighting fires with twigs you found in the brush, paranoid that someone would find you or the fire would spread.

You watch Katsuki’s back as he moves, shoulders shifting with each step. His shirt is stained, white turned eggshell from the wear and tear of time. It seems so off to you that he looks relatively clean, like he lives well.

Fear strikes you as you realize that your rambling thoughts have merit. Anything you fear now has become real and loss is so tangible to you that you can squeeze it in your hand. They could turn you out. Tomorrow night you could begin the starve and step all over again, moving from place to place, talking to yourself, filling your hours with paranoid thoughts like these that plague you when you’re alone. Is that worse than loss? If you’re alone long enough, you’d probably forget what you’re missing. Losing anyone else could make the wound fresh. For now, the hunger wins out.

Katsuki jogs ahead of you to get to the house. Momo is on the porch waving him in and he hurries up the steps and bursts through the front door. As you approach, you can hear voices, some of which are relieved, others hurried. When you enter the room, you find a man standing there whom you’ve never seen before, Shoto maybe.

“A plus one,” the man looks up, tilting his head at you in an odd way.

“Katsuki’s,” Kiri says with a low smirk.

Shoto’s eyes widen as he peers at his friend, clutching what looks like an injured shoulder. Katsuki just huffs his irritation.

“Well, that’s rare,” Shoto says.

“What’s rare?” Katsuki spits. “They were in the woods with a fire. What was I supposed to do? Let ‘em die?”

“Maybe,” Shoto says, a light smile creeping onto his features. Then, he turns to you. “What’s your name?”

You give it to him and he nods his head, tilting it at you again.

“How long are you staying?”

You’re not sure how to answer that question. In fact, no one is, and it feels like more of a test than it does a genuine inquiry. Kiri and Mina exchange a glance and Katsuki tosses a somewhat dirty look towards Shoto. Ochako gives Shoto a knowing glance and Sero and Denki shift uncomfortably on their feet. Then, Momo clears her throat, spurring Izuku to say something.

“Shoto,” he says. “You’re probably hungry, you should eat something and lay down. Ochako? Could you take a look at his shoulder?”

“Sure,” the girl says softly, giving a closed mouth smile to Shoto as she takes him by the arm.

She glances at you as she passes, almost like she’s too embarrassed to look at you fully in the face. You suppose this is what happens when people are forced to think about whether or not they will potentially leave someone else to die. It’s like the trolley cart question and though in this case there is always the possibility of a better outcome, it’s not likely in this world.

“Just until I’m rested,” you add with a small tilt of your head. “A few days.”

Shoto looks at you over his shoulder and gives you a small smile. It’s funny, you can see kindness there. His actions aren’t kind, but you can feel that he has kindness in him, though his rudeness stems from something different than Katsuki’s, you think. Like he’s strange in some way.

“I’ll start on dinner,” Sero says. “Kiri, give me a hand.”

The group disperses and you head upstairs without speaking to anyone else. A few days to rest and then cut the first people you’ve spoken to in weeks loose. What sort of idiot gives up something like this to avoid a little awkwardness? Not that you necessarily had your mind made up. You wonder briefly if you’ve just sealed your own tomb.

—

After dinner, you go upstairs to sleep after eating as much as they would offer you. Your stomach has ceased its constant growling and the shakiness that comes with hunger has receded almost entirely into the background. The bed is soft, with a slight dent in it from whoever slept in here before. The thought unsettles you that they’re probably dead now, but you try to push it from your mind as you steel yourself for what comes within the next few days.

You had volunteered yourself to leave. To what? Save yourself the embarrassment of pleading? Did you even want to plead? Why are you regretting not asking to stay? These people don’t know you, what trust can you have built with them in only a few days? Your skin crawls at the expanse of possibilities in front of you after so many weeks without any.

You think that if you let yourself walk away, you’ll probably die. You’re out of bullets and don’t know where to find any food except by luck. You can try to catch prey, but prey hides whenever infected are around, and they’re everywhere nowadays. It’s spring, water wouldn’t be a problem, but running water has its clear comforts. Then, there’s the possibility of loss. You’d come to care for these people if you stayed, you know it.

You furrow your eyebrows and look at the ceiling. There’s really no choice to be made. You’ll let them make it for you, even if you don’t know them. It’s their house and you won’t walk in uninvited or try to take it. You’re not about to become a monster just because the world is full of them now.

The darkness grows and your eyes drift to the dim light wandering in under the crack of the door. Hushed voices whisper in the living room, you can hear them. It’s a heated discussion, lively, but deliberately quiet. It’s been hours since everyone went to bed, yet you get the impression that many people are chiming in. You’re too nosey to leave it be.

You open the bedroom door silently, turning the cool knob with a wince as it clicks out of place. When you peer into the hallway, every upstairs bedroom door is open with the room empty. The light is coming from down stairs and around the corner, and you can see shadows move as you inch closer to the source.

You pause at the top of the stairs, knowing that they creak, and crouch by the bannister to listen. You’re out of sight. The only way they’d know you’re listening is if you made a sound, but you won’t. You’re good at being quiet.

“We don’t even know them,” someone says in a rushed whisper. “We don’t know what they’ve done before.”

“Everyone’s done things they’re not proud of now, Shoto,” a woman adds. It’s Mina. She’s spoken enough to you that you recognize her voice.

“I agree with Shoto,” says another woman, her voice higher pitched. She sounds guilty and her voice is tight as she speaks “We have no clue who they are. They could be dangerous.”

“You mean like me, Ochako?” A man adds. “I could have been dangerous.”

The group grows quiet for a moment.

“No,” Momo says. You recognize the cadence of her voice. “Shoto might be right, Denki. It’s been nearly six months since you got here and the world has changed a lot. We don’t- we can’t know for sure.”

“Can we really know anything for sure?” Another man adds, Kiri.

“What about you guys?” Shoto says, presumably to the rest of the group.

“I don’t know.”

“I’m hesitant, but I don’t know either.”

“Jesus,” another man with a baritone voice, harsher than the rest. That’s Katsuki, the first voice you’d heard of the group. “You guys make me a little sick.”

“That’s not fair,” Ochako says.

“No,” he interrupts. “It is fair. You guys want to… what? Send them back out there to die?”

“It’s not like that,” Shoto says.

“It is like that,” he says, raising his voice and then lowering it back to a whisper. “You didn’t see them when they got here, Shoto. They- they didn’t look… shit. The rest of you, you saw them. You really want to send them back out there to fuckin’ waste away? I don’t know about you all, but I won’t do that to a person.”

There’s a pregnant pause.

“Katsuki’s right,” Izuku says with a bit of conviction, like he’s finally made up his mind. “Sending someone out there alone is a death sentence. How does doing that make us any better than the people we’re trying to protect ourselves from?”

“What if there are more of them?” Ochako says quietly. “What if they’re not alone?”

“Trust me,” Katsuki says, “They were alone.”

“But what if they’re not?” She insists at a whisper, a bit of shame creeping into her voice. “What if people come for us?”

“See?” Shoto says gently. “There are so many what-ifs.”

“That works the other way too,” Mina adds.

You don’t listen to hear the rest of their conversation. They’re going to run themselves in circles debating about you. They’ll go around and around and land on whichever argument ends with the most votes. They’ll convince each other of one thing and it will happen totally out of your control.

The bedroom door shuts with a low click that makes you wince again. You think about the people who went to bat for you and the people who didn’t. You don’t blame those who opposed. You’d have probably reacted similarly if your old group were still alive and you understand very clearly why they do it. One person’s stupid reaction can be catastrophic and they don’t know enough about you to be certain that you’re not one of those stupid people. It’s how the world went to shit in the first place and though nine months ago you’d have surely condemned someone for making the same decision, you know that fear has warped humanity beyond comprehension. You didn’t get it until you lived it.

Still, Katsuki’s humanity feels intact somehow, more so than yours at least. His response is something you probably never would have said under the same conditions and you can’t help but feel some sort of fondness bloom in you for him. Call it connection, gratefulness for his willingness to stick his neck out for you, a trauma response. You still feel it. Mina and Kiri had said that Katsuki was a good judge of character and that’s why they were willing to back him. You wonder briefly if maybe Katsuki sees something in you that you don’t recognize in yourself anymore, or maybe something you don’t expect other people to recognize. What is it that he wants so badly to protect?

Someone stomps down the hallway, heavy boots against the old creaky floors. You hear the steps recede down the hallway, maybe a door or two down, before it shuts quickly. The sound makes you wince and you listen as the house grows quiet and then hums quietly with the sound of others coming upstairs a few moments later. Someone pads to the end of the hall, pushing the door open.

You hear a woman’s voice, so muffled that you can’t make out what she’s saying. Then, you hear the sound of a man’s affirmation before the bedroom door shuts and the visitor moves back down the hall to a separate bedroom. Information passing through the house.

Someone is moving around in a room below you and you figure that there are probably bedrooms downstairs as well. From the outside, you’d never guess that the place could house ten people. Inside though, the bedrooms are small. That’s probably why so many can fit. You’d guess that the place used to have multiple generations living in it, or maybe even rented out rooms to people for a few months. It sort of has a boarding house feel to it, like many people have come and gone even before people stopped staying in one place.

That’s a good thing to call it, the boarding house. It certainly has that sort of feel to it, many of its spaces undeniably communal.

You turn over in the bed, facing the bedroom door. The lights have gone out completely now and the house is quiet save for the occasional creak or thud from someone preparing to sleep. It’s been a long while since the sounds of living have been so prevalent near you. You’re eased by the sounds of the house settling, a familiar reminder of what living used to be. Your group had been on the road long before you lost them and the comforts of an interior are almost overwhelmingly nostalgic. You’re better rested to notice it now and shutting your eyes, you savor the feeling.

—

“Need some help?” You say.

Denki turns around, grease smeared across his nose where he likely wiped it with his dirty hands. He’s holding a wrench in a glove so tattered that it hardly counts as a glove anymore. He looks startled, amber eyes widening before he uses his forearm to brush stray hairs out of his face. The rest of it is pulled up into a messy ponytail, revealing the moist back of his neck.

“Oh, sure,” he says, a bit surprised. “Do you know how generators work?”

He crouches back over the machine and you step up behind him.

The machine is rusted near the bottom and between the exposed winding pipes. Its paint has chipped away, leaving the weather-damaged metal open for you to see. On the side, a fan-like piece spins slowly in circles and the machine whirs and sputters softly as it… generates power, probably.

“Not quite, but an extra pair of hands is always helpful,” you say softly, passing him a tool he’d been reaching for. “Did it break?”

“No,” Denki says, “but it’s probably on its last legs. The thing’s almost as old as we are, probably older, so it’s good to tune it up a bunch.”

You hum your agreement, tilting your head as you stand and watch him work.

You’re not necessarily comfortable with Denki, but he feels like a safe person for some reason. Maybe it’s because he’s got a sort of ditzy, non-threatening vibe to him. You can almost distinctly picture him tripping over his own feet and something about that makes you feel considerably safer than someone who wouldn’t. That and he was the first person you’ve come across this morning who you don’t think distrusts you too badly.

“Are you dodging something?” Denki smirks up at you from his crouch.

“Who on earth would I be dodging?” you snort a bit defensively.

“Shoto,” he says with a light smile. “He put you in a tight spot the other day.”

“Yeah, well,” you say, glancing over your shoulder. “It wasn’t anything he didn’t have a right to ask.”

“Right, but it sure was rude, huh?”

Denki laughs to himself a little and you’re surprised by how easygoing he is. You subconsciously begin to categorize him with Mina and Kiri. The dichotomy of this group baffles you a bit, but you can certainly see all nine of them as a collective. Tightly knit and well acquainted with the habits of others.

“Oh!” He exclaims, “I have something you can do for me.”

You tilt your head.

“There’s a bucket over there,” he says, pointing absentmindedly to a shitty plastic bucket against the side of the house. “We use the water from the creek as coolant. It’s not factory grade, but it does the trick. You wanna go fill it up and bring it back for when I’m done tuning this thing up?”

You furrow your eyebrows, not sure where the creek he’s talking about is.

“The creek is just over there,” he points behind the house to the edge of the treeline. “I know you can’t see it from here, but if you walk in a straight line, you’ll hit it. Katsuki should be down there too, so you can use him as a landmark.”

When you don’t immediately answer, Denki whines a little.

“I mean,” he says, “I’d go myself, but-”

“I’ll do it,” you laugh a little and Denki seems surprised that you do.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I’d like to pull some weight at least while I’m here. Plus, I offered.”

Denki mumbles his pleasure and you walk to the bucket without another word and set off in the direction Denki pointed. You’re much more willing to go out to the treeline now that you have a knife back at your side.

The walk to the trees is longer than it looks, like how sometimes the horizon looks like something you could reach out and climb up onto. The walk stretches with each step you take and you become a little more understanding of why Denki didn’t want to do it himself. But the walk is actually pleasant, the warmth of mid May collecting evenly on your skin as the humidity grows more intense with the sun.

You wonder what Katsuki would be doing by the creek. Maybe he’s fishing, or crouched over himself sharpening an arsenal of knives that you think he might keep in a roll attached to his belt sometimes. You’re not sure why, but Katsuki sort of has that expression to him. He’s handsome, but the scowl projects something hostile that makes him seem unapproachable.

As you cross through the middle of the clearing, you could almost imagine that this is a normal day. Humidity collects on your skin, making you sweat a little as you dodge gopher holes and soft spots of dirt. It almost feels like summer camp, if it weren’t for the looming idea that you’re contributing to something you may not be a part of. Denki’s attitude though, has you hoping for a more favorable outcome, if you want to call it that.

You’re only a few steps into the line of trees when the earth dips into a sand-lined ravine. The trees leave room for the sun to beat down on warmed rocks, making the area seem brighter with their subtle reflection of the light. The noise of the creek drowns out the sound of your footsteps and you shuffle toward where the earth flattens just before the water starts. A little ways to your right, you can see Katsuki sitting on a rock in the sun, his hands dipped into a large bucket. You narrow your eyes as he pulls what looks like a cloth out of the water, rubbing the fabric together before dipping it in the cool water of the creek.

As you approach, you realize what it is that he’s doing. It’s laundry. On the other side of him, you can see a bin of what look like dirty clothes and water-soaked clean ones. Talk about misjudged character.

“Katsuki,” you say as you approach him, the bucket still empty in your hand.

He squints up at you, shifting his face so that it's in your shadow.

“You’re still here,” he says plainly, returning to his task.

“Clearly,” you respond, watching as he runs his fingers over the next piece of clothing in the bucket.

“Why are you down here? Did Denki pawn the generator water onto you?” He says, like he’s somewhat frustrated. “He does that shit to anyone he can.”

You shrug your shoulders and continue to stare at him.

“Are you just gonna stand there?” He huffs out.

“You’re doing laundry.”

“Yeah?” he furrows his eyebrows and looks at you. “So?”

“Nothing,” you say. “I just didn’t expect that.”

“Yeah well,” he stops for a moment like he’s struggling to find the words. “It needed to be done. Figured I might as well.”

“How progressive of you,” you joke with a straight face.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes and sighs, not justifying your comment with a response. You find yourself smiling a little bit.

“If you’re going to linger, sit down and do it,” he says. “You’re creeping me out.”

You oblige him and sit down on a rock next to him, far enough that you’re not touching, but near enough to hear him if you speak in a low voice. For some reason, you feel a sort of kinship with Katsuki. You’d thought longer than you’d like to admit about his willingness to vouch for you and find that you want to live up to his expectation of your goodness, even if it’s not what you believe yourself to be anymore. Maybe it’s because you’ve slept well the past few nights and feel more like yourself, but there’s a certain casualness to conversing with him that you enjoy. He’s not looking at what you could be, but rather what you’re showing him that you are. His lack of doubt in that is something you find relatively attractive.

You watch his arms out of the corner of your eye in between gazing at the treeline and the sky. Your field of vision catches on them, his sleeves cut short to expose his biceps, a bit muddied near the elbows where the mud has begun to stick.

Katsuki doesn’t seem all that bothered by your presence, but now and then you’ll catch the sideways glance he gives you, almost like he’s trying to figure out exactly why you’re lingering.

“How long have you been with them?” You ask, more as a way to fill the silence.

Katsuki’s hands pause as he thinks about answering, then, they continue their steady pace.

“A decent amount of time,” he says. “I met Izuku first, probably in November just before Mina and Kiri. The rest came later.”

You furrow your eyebrows.

“No offense,” you start, “but you don’t really seem like the group type.”

“And you don’t seem like the type who’d be alone,” he retorts, like your statement was stupid.

You press your lips into a tight line, not really knowing how to respond.

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head a little.

“Were you?”

“What? Was I sorry?” He furrows his eyebrows at you.

“No,” you shake your head. “Were you alone? Before Izuku.”

He goes silent. You’ll take that as a yes, but you regret asking a little. It had just slipped out. If someone were to ask you something like that, you’d probably react the same way. That’s just as well, you don’t really need to know him like that anyway.

You wonder briefly if anyone does. He seems closed off, but Mina and Kiri spoke about him a few days prior like they knew him well. Well enough at least to allude to a history you’ll likely never be privy to. Then there’s Momo, who whispers little things to him that he answers in kind. Curiosity gets the better of you, if only to tease.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you ask and Katsuki’s response is to rest his elbows on his knees and let out a dry laugh.

He turns his head and looks at you from the side. “And what the fuck are you asking me that for?”

“Just curious,” you say. “Is it Momo?”

“Momo?” He makes a sour face at you. “Yeah, right.”

“She’s pretty,” you say.

“Sure is,” he responds dryly. “If you’re into the mom type.”

“What? You’re not into moms?” You grin a little and Katsuki furrows his eyebrows at you.

“So you do have a personality,” he scoffs a little.

There’s a pause. You haven’t felt this in a while. The feeling of bonding with someone new, compatibility on the human level that feels nearly instant.

“I’m kinda serious though,” you say, tilting your head down to catch his eye. “Do you?”

You’re leaning a little closer to him now.

“You seen any nice restaurants to take a person out to these days?” he questions, clearly a little frustrated with you in the way someone gets when they’re a bit amused.

“You don’t have to take someone out to a restaurant to fuck them, you know?” You laugh a little.

Katsuki’s lips part and he swallows like his mouth has gone dry.

“Yeah, well,” he starts, looking away from you. “I’m a romantic. Sue me.”

He’s just full of surprises, isn’t he? You find that you’re captivated by this feeling, this humanity, that exists in him. It’s something alive between you both, something left behind from the old world, and you crave it the same way you crave food.

Katsuki continues scrubbing the clothes, rubbing the fabric together and then dunking it in the bucket before plunging it into the freshwater creek. You’re not sure why you do it, but the next time he looks at you, you kiss him.

It’s not as if you like him, but it’s something to feel. Some remnant of the butterflies you used to feel on dates and the kiss makes you feel like you could be close to human again. You pull away almost as soon as you put his lips to yours and you can tell that the expression on your face is one of surprise.

Katsuki blinks for a second, looking at you with his brows knitted together. The expression doesn’t leave him as he places a wet hand on the side of your face to kiss you again. It’s an anxious kiss, confused and slow but—like someone riding a bike for the first time in years—it quickly becomes something familiar. Muscle memory that you both let yourselves sink into.

You can feel his expression as he kisses you, something between confusion and desire, like his own actions are perplexing. You feel the same way, hesitant, but reaching in the dark for the promise of some sort of normalcy. You want to feel like a person again. You haven’t felt it in so long and you push yourself against him as the ache swells in you.

The two of you continue like this for a moment, Katsuki’s fingers pressing lightly into the skin of your neck. You moan softly as his tongue slips into your mouth, taking a sharp inhale at the sensation of skin on skin. The sound of the creek drowns out the clicking of your mouths, but you can feel the way he hums into your mouth. They’re little sounds, involuntary ones driven by the nervous, desirous feelings inside of you both.

Then, Katsuki pulls away, swallowing thick as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. You appreciate the way they look. They’re swollen, anxious to continue and keep forgetting where you really are. He drops his hand from your face with a sigh and almost seems like he comes back to himself. You do the same, moving back into an upright position.

“Denki will want that water soon,” he clears his throat and motions to the empty bucket by your feet.

“Oh,” you say, laughing a little. “Right.”

You stand, dusting off the back of your pants and dunking the bucket into the water. It sloshes, the liquid hitting the back of the plastic with a satisfying elastic sound. You begin to walk away without another word, heading down the way you came to climb up the gentler part of the slope.

“Hey,” Katsuki calls softly. “You should stay. We talked it over last night. You can if you want to.”

The last part, he says facing the wash, his hands moving as if he hadn’t said anything at all. You don’t respond, knowing that the obvious answer is already yes.

Dread settles in your stomach. It’s an icky, swirling feeling that threatens to make you double over. You climb up the bank, the water in the bucket sloshing as you move through the trees and enter the clearing. The feeling doesn’t dissipate, growing as you leave the cover of the trees. You probably wouldn’t have kissed him if he’d asked you that earlier.

The boarding house comes into view and you can see Denki sitting beside the generator, conversing with who appears to be Shoto. They turn and Denki waves you down, Shoto turning away and starting around for the front of the house.

Denki jogs to meet you, taking the bucket from your hand. You flex your fingers as the weight is removed, wincing a little at how stiff they feel.

“Jeez, what took you so long?” Denki laughs and with your new information, you understand his willingness to be friendly with you a little better.

“I asked Katsuki for his life story,” you respond dryly, following him back to the generator.

Denki looks over his shoulder and laughs at you. “Did he tell you?”

You pause for a moment, watching as Denki unscrews something and pours the water in.

“Nope,” you say. “Not a thing.”

Click Here to go to the second chapter and find the rest of the series on ao3. The remainder will not be posted on tumlbr, but please feel free to reblog!

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader smut #mha smut #bakugou fanfiction #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #apocalypse au #tw.violence #tw.blood #tw.loss of identity #tw.derealization #tw.depersonalization #tw.exhaustion #cal.writing #char.bakugou

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callixspod · 4 months ago

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Your affection. [Read ID]

might make an animatic out of this BUT!! here's more of my brain blasted insanities. Rambles of "I<3U" AU below here ↓

What began as a simple one off story about a living digital consciousness inside a video game to be implemented on Persona 4, and their unused game files hidden behind folders, left to collect dust. But it still remains, waiting for anyone to discover it.

I can't put on the details on how Yosuke even gained sentience, but I can tell you now that this AU simply took place on Persona 4 Vanilla. (Not golden. As much as it has its own content I will be sticking with its roots. So yes, Yosuke didn't own/bought a motorcycle. That event never happened.) Hanamura's odd behavior only happened when the Player bought the game with a specific player ID. So their gameplay experience will be on their perspective of how this one character manages to know, everything about them. Also slightly close to creepypastas which, I loved. Huhu.

This can be seen as a Yume or Souyo ship perspective so pick your poison

Now it's time for Yosuke's unique behavior towards the player when they progress the game. His depraved ass was already set to go off when the player was given the option to pick miscellaneous interactions between the characters, mostly to follow up Yosuke's questions or any one of the investigation team to mention anything about Yosuke. The options being "What kind of girls do you prefer?", "Looking great [insert name]" or the famous "Which ones are you looking forward to see in a swimsuit"

If you're like me and didn't indulge on having a romantic subchoice to any of the members, that's where it triggers the start of a few bugs and glitches manifested behind the scenes, fuelling the code until it couldn't automatically run on itself, but from something else manually taking over. Manifesting the game to not coordinate with its ordered storyline, changing the system to be primarily more unique than others.

When Yosuke only appears for a few days on the weekend, suddenly his model would stand in position to a day that he was not meant to show up. He was meant to show up on a Sunday. So why was he here out in daylight on a Saturday? Other strange occurrences are if whenever Yosuke was on scene, closeups and corrupted texts would come in to reach out to the Player, sending a message that only he and the other side of the screen can see.

Now his normal dialogue never wound up to show from the screen, simply replaced with vague, short-ended questions asking them if "Are you there?" "Can you hear me?" "I can't see you, but I can still hear your voice." "Will you show me someday?" That last part was not a suggestion. Really demanding, hard for him to know he'll be left alone all over again if the Player turns off their game, aw :( And he keeps remembering the shit I gave to you even when I didn't need some of them.

So that's it? I think??? 😭 There will be more, later I'm rlly tired.

until then, have what's served on this 4 stat Yelp restaurant.

#persona 4 #yu narukami #yosuke hanamura #souyo #I<3U AU #my art #fanart #attempted to make him look. on model as possible #the warmup sketches says so #i hope that i managed to explain it okay cos my eyez are starting to feel hwsvy #vhgujj

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thelargefrye · 1 year ago

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ATEEZ AS MIDDLE SCHOOL TEACHERS ... bullet - point fic ( 17+ )

pairing : teacher!ateez x teacher!f!reader (separately)

genre : teacher au, fluff, comedy, workplace romance, bulletpoint headcanons, implied co-workers to lovers (for all of them), secret relationships (for a lot of them)

word count : 4.1k

warnings : middle schoolers (yes this is needed), mentions of students shipping their teachers, mentions of a past make-out from college (mingi's section)

note : inspired by these prompts and my own job lol

honorary tag : @sanjoongie

what i think it would be like working with ateez in a middle school and perhaps being something more than co-workers with them.

KIM HONGJOONG

he's a math teacher – seventh grade and also head of the math department at the school

when he's teaching, he's in his element and he's very passionate about teaching his student and the content

he was terrible at math when he was a student and often tells his own students in order to motivate them...

sometimes it works but most times it doesn't

he's definitely one of the more stricter teachers at the beginning of the year, but lets up near the end of the year

students love him, like there's not one kid who hates him

some students do wonder how he manages to get away with his funky hair colors, but no one really questions it anymore

he's also very stylish and is known for his fashionable looks that make him look like he just came off the runway

the two of you met when you started teaching at the same school, he's been teaching for two years longer than you have

you also teach seventh grade and immediately clicked as friends on your first day

he answers any questions you have that isn't content related and is kind of seen as the head of the seventh grade as well

he gets along well with the older teachers who have been doing this for 20+ years, those teachers either go to you or him when they need help with the new programs that admin is making them use in class

a lot of the students ask him if you two are dating because you're the younger teachers in the grade-level and are always hanging out

"dating? why are you worried about who i'm dating? we have equations to worry about," he would say and always brush them off

most of the students drop, not really wanting to make hongjoong upset but that doesn't mean the question won't come up again later on

your students will also ask you the same question and like hongjoong, you brush them off and not really answering them

the students would often go back and forth on if you two were dating or not with some even trying to provide "evidence" that you were dating

and some students gave up on thinking that their literature and math teacher were dating

until one day you showed up to school wearing a cardigan

and not just any cardigan

a cardigan that hongjoong wore a month ago, one that students knew was custom made by their teacher himself

and the whole seventh grade lost their minds because holy cow, their literature teacher and math teacher WERE in fact dating

the evidence of you wearing hongjoong's cardigan was enough to convince all the students it was true

so then some of them decided to confront you both

"teacher kim, teacher l/n we know your secret."

you and hongjoong were of course confused because of course your students had to be cryptic about everything... seventh graders 😒

"we know you guys are dating! teacher l/n, you're wearing teacher kim's custom cardigan!"

hongjoong had never turned his head so fast in his life and he immediately looked at the cardigan and sure enough

it was his

and you two were busted because now all your students knew you both were at least something, if not more than friends

PARK SEONGHWA

seonghwa teaches eighth grade reading / literature, he also has his masters in special education and administration

he is also the teacher that heads student council – like he built it from the ground up after the teacher before him let it crash and burn allowed it to be ruined

but seonghwa rebuilt the student council club and now its flourishes thanks to his leadership skills and teaching the students those same leadership skills

being a teacher is like a family job, his mother was a teacher and taught at the same school that he now teaches at

he wanted to become one to continue her legacy

students think he's way too handsome to be a teacher

he's also way too nice to be a teacher but like... none of the students ever give him issues

like even the behavior students don't disrespect him like they would other teachers – its kind of crazy

you had always admired seonghwa because of how good he was at his job and honestly... you were kind of jealous of him too

but you wouldn't dare tell him

you can't help but be amazed when you watch him speak at department meetings and how he always voices his thoughts so elegantly

seonghwa is also never afraid to help you if he sees you struggling or to ask for your opinion during meetings when he notices you haven't spoken

and he'll always back you up which surprises you because you aren't friends or even in the same grade

you kind of developed a crush on him but again you would never tell him or anybody for that matter

which to be honest, your crush and admiration is probably what lead you to volunteering to help out with the student council overnight trip to a student council convention

it was you, seonghwa, plus the ten student council students that qualified to go

you really never knew who exhausting planning a field trip was and seonghwa amazed you once again with how well-planned out the trip was

it kind of made you feel guilty because of how little you did to help out with the planning

"don't feel bad y/n! i'm glad you volunteered to come, i usually struggle with finding someone to come with me to help chaperone."

"really?"

"yeah."

well... that did make you feel a little better

and of course since you two were the only chaperones, that meant the two of you got to room together

the students were pretty sure they almost saw you pass out in the hotel lobby when seonghwa told you that

"teacher l/n, are you okay! you don't look so good!"

"i'm fine..."

"you're fine with sharing a room together right?" seonghwa asks once the two of you are alone in the hotel room

the students were also in their own hotel rooms and winding down after the long trip, you could feel yourself sink into the bed once you got into the room

"its fine, i don't mind," you tell him and seonghwa gives you a warm smile as he settles down on the bed next to yours "are field trips always this exhausting?"

"only the overnight ones"

"great"

JEONG YUNHO

eighth grade history teacher but he's also taught sixth grade history in the past as well

yunho is very serious about teaching and strict when it comes to listening, doing work, being respectful, etc.

especially in the beginning of the year, but does let up a little bit near the end and after exams and stuff

he has a strict schedule that he follows when teaching his content and knows his content like the back of his hand

he has a routine and the students are quick to learn it and make sure the others are at least doing what they are suppose to be doing when the bell rings

but despite how strict and stuff he is, yunho loves teaching and the kids love his class

even if they don't like it at the beginning, the class and yunho will grow on them before the year is over

even the other teachers respect yunho and will ask him on how he teaches certain events and whatnot, always going to him for tips on where to find good materials

yunho is like the jack-of-all-materials

even has his own tpt page because of how much stuff he has made for his own class and co-workers

you will also always find him and san hanging out together in each other's room during their planning time

usually gossiping about students or other teachers

students have learned that when san walks into yunho's room, then its serious because san never leaves his room during class time

also no one ever really bothers yunho because of how strict he is with teaching and getting everything he needs done, to get done

however, students are shocked when you walk into yunho's room one day WHILE he's teaching to ask him a question

like their jaws drop when yunho stops teaching in order to help you with something and laughing with you as he brushes your apology off

it was like they just watched a mean dog turned into the friendliest puppy when you walked in

some of them questioned if they were transported to a different reality because there is no way this is happening

you and yunho are like night and day, yunho with dark button-ups and you with your funky colored pants

"you're seeing this to right?" one of them would whisper to the other students around them

the students were too stunned to speak

"hey! get to work, i expect you to have these notes written down by the time i'm done," yunho would say and immediately the students would get to work

"thank you teacher jeong, i appreciate the help with this new program"

"sure, its no problem," he says as he walks you to the door. "choi came to me during planning asking about it plus some other teachers as well"

"ah, well glad i'm not the only one struggling!" you let out a laugh and yunho returns it and laughs with you, "i'll see you after school, yeah?"

"of course"

you wave as you close the door behind you and yunho immediately goes back into his teaching mode

once again leaving his students shocked and with whiplash from how fast his attitude changed

"we really were in just another reality"

KANG YEOSANG

seventh grade history but wants to one day be a librarian

yeosang loves history but is also certified to teach reading/literature

a lot of the students and teachers love him for how nice he is to everyone

he really connects well with the behavior students, like a lot of them will always say he's there favorite teacher

even the ones who never come to class, go to yeosang's class because who in their right mind who skip teacher kang's class?

no one that's who

students will always go to him when there's an issue because they know he will help them

that's why a lot of them are surprised when they find out him and wooyoung are best friends since high school

"you and teacher jung are best friends!?"

"yep! have been for years!" and yeosang is proud to say that him and wooyoung are best friends and can teach together at the same school

none of the students can get over how handsome he is as well and a lot of sixth graders can only hope to get him in seventh grade

"teacher kang, you're so handsome you could be an actor!"

yeosang can only smile at the comments, not really saying anything as he's use to those comments by now

well coming from his students or other adults that is

however, hearing those comments (or reading them) from you is a different story

he doesn't know how you manage to time it whenever his students are doing independent work but you do

he'll be at his desk or walking around, when you come in and some the students will immediately greet you

you simply smile and wave at them before walking over to hand yeosang something

"i got the stuff from your mailbox while i was at mine," you told him

yeosang thanks you and you smile at him before turning and leaving

you usually go to the mailbox when you need a break from your class and there's already someone in there to help

yeosang looks at the stuff in his hands, and notices the folded piece of paper that had his name written nicely in your handwriting

he opens it as he walks to his desk and immediately feels a warmth overtake his face

'you look really pretty today, yeo ;) can't wait to hangout after school in our usual place! miss you already!'

yeosang quickly stored the note in his desk, before quickly going back to teaching and trying to hide the excitement of seeing you later to the back of his mind

CHOI SAN

eighth grade reading/literature teacher along with seonghwa and school's volleyball coach

he played volleyball when he was in school and so he's very passionate about the sport and his athletes

a tough coach and an even tougher teacher, but only because he knows all his students can do better than what they showing him

like seonghwa with student council, san managed to help the volleyball team go to nationals thanks to his coaching and the his girls' effort and teamwork

a lot of students are scared of him because of how he coaches, especially his athletes – like even just the mention of san gets them scared

but really san just wants the best for all his students and just like volleyball, he's also passionate about his teaching

very writing focused versus seonghwa who is more reading based, but they work really well together to make sure all their students are getting the same knowledge and material

san's not afraid to speak his mind during department meetings and the other teachers know this – like he will straight up call something out if he knows it won't work

seonghwa usually has to cut him off because of this, they are a very funny duo and students love watching them interact

"teacher choi is like a dark cloud and teacher park is like a sunny day"

like the kids, you are also intimidated by him because of how much just pure authority he gives off

like you would think he's a principal from how students act around him

he actually does step up as an admin when the actual principals are out of the building because he does have his masters in administration, so he could very well one day become a principal

but going back to you being intimidated by him 💀

you never really dared to approach him, always sitting on the opposite side of the room during department meetings

mainly because you didn't want to get on his bad side

"please teacher l/n, can you help us start this club?"

"sure, girls!" you were more than happy to help sponsor their club "who's the other teacher?"

you watched as the girls' faces deflated at the question, of course you don't blame them for not knowing that clubs needed two teachers to become official, not just one

"i have a teacher in mind!"

"who?" "tell us!"

"coach choi, can help! especially since volleyball is over!"

you felt the color drain from your face at the thought of san and you running a club together

"teacher l/n will you ask coach choi if he can help us?"

"sure... i'll ask."

"a club?"

"yeah, some of your volleyball girls recommended you and wanted to see if you could be the second teacher sponsor."

"ah, that's right. the school has that stupid two teacher club sponsor rule. always did think that was dumb."

san thought for a minute which felt like a lifetime the longer you stood in his classroom

"sure, why not. i'm sure it'll be fun to run a club together."

"i'm sure the girls will also appreciate it. i'll send you the information when i hear back from the principal about the club."

"of course, if you have any issues let me know."

"will do, thanks!"

that was definitely a lot less nerve-racking then you thought it would be...

maybe running a club san won't be so bad after all

SONG MINGI

mingi is THE ms. frizzle aka the best science teacher you will ever have

he teaches sixth grade science and is always having some sort of fun with testing experiments and theories with the students

science class will forever be ruined after you have him as a teacher because no one is doing it like mingi

literally older students will come by to see either him or wooyoung and they will always ask mingi what he is currently doing in that class

and while he's an amazing teacher – he's also hella clumsy

like students learn fast not to leave their things in the floor if they don't want this 6ft tall man tripping over and possible destroying their things

someone save this man from all those decorative pencil pouches and metal water bottles pls 💀

anyways, a lot of students love mingi because of his fun personality and not because he almost below up the science lab because a experiment gone wrong

very much into team building and having all the students work together towards a goal because he knows how important teamwork is in life and wants students to have it

a lot of students are actually intimidated by him when they first see him because of his tall stature and harsh look

but he's really cool once him and the students build that rapport

so a lot of students were surprised when they found out that you and mingi were best friends

it never really clicked for most of them since you both taught different grades AND subjects

but then during school assemblies and such, you and mingi would always be sitting next to each other

whispering and laughing to each other and it would leave students bewildered when they saw the two of you

like "what in the world are they laughing about?"

"you know... the kiddos asked me the other day about us," you said, leaning over and whispering into his ear

"yeah?"

"they asked me how long we've been friends"

"w-what did you tell them?"

"since college, i left out the part where you made out with my best friend before tripping over her bag and landed into my lap."

you could tell mingi was blushing, his ears turning red at your words

"i-it wasn't like that!"

"i know, no need to feel embarrassed. i agreed to go out with you didn't i?"

you couldn't help the smirk on your face while mingi had a pout on his own, completely forgetting that the two of you were suppose to be watching the talent show and not flirting

JUNG WOOYOUNG

teaches sixth grade math and is an on-going menace to his students

you either love or hate him because of how he teaches and runs his classroom

always changing the seating desk arrangement in his room which keeps students on their toes

he's always a complete 180 from hongjoong who is the head of the math department

like students get whiplash when they go from wooyoung to hongjoong because of how different they are

but that's not to say wooyoung is bad at his job, on the contrary wooyoung is fantastic at his job

always has a math pun ready to whip out when needed and is always dishing out savage remarks to his students when they try to be a smart-ass to him

they learn quick that they won't be able make smart comments with him around

wooyoung is just very blunt with how he's feeling – like if a student makes him mad you'll know he's mad

does a lot of bootcamp punishments (i.e makes them do exercises when they don't listen to him like: jumping jacks, squats, nothing too extreme) this makes kids not want to disrespect him because they know what will happen if they do

some parents have thought it was "extreme" but he simply told them "well it got your child to listen for once in their life" – that shut the parent up real quick

but wooyoung rarely gets serious because he has the respect from students and so those bootcamp punishments are rare and few in-between

most of the time he's fun and playful which also travels over to how he acts with his fellow teachers

including you

wooyoung always visits you when he's on his planning period

like your class can always expect him to stop by at least once during their class

which none of them mind cause that means they can see their favorite math teacher again but don't tell hongjoong that

however with his constant visits, it makes students question if you guys are dating

especially when wooyoung is always complimenting you when you're at your desk and you both think that the students can't hear you

"you look very lovely today, teacher l/n."

"watch yourself, jung."

you eventually have to run wooyoung off so you can get back to teaching

"oh they are totally dating" students would whisper to each other watching the two of you interact

students really really ship you guys together and are always questioning you about your ideal type and stuff

but you always brush off their questions and comments about how you and teacher jung would look great together

and eventually the students had moved on to something else and you were thankfully left alone about your love life by your students

until one day when you and wooyoung were spotted by some students outside of school

you and him had went to the store together, not really thinking about school as you both spent time together

however that peace between the two of you was set ablaze when heard a familiar "teacher l/n! teacher jung!" and snapping the two of you out of your daze

wooyoung was quick to greet the students who approached you both, a smile on his face and arm around his shoulder

and you knew your secret was out because of how the students' zoned in on wooyoung's arm around your shoulder

you couldn't help but dread what would happen when you arrive at school tomorrow

"i didn't like keeping it a secret anyways," he would making you smack the back of his head in response before pushing the shopping cart and walking away from your boyfriend

CHOI JONGHO

eighth grade math who got roped into teaching seventh grade science as well

jongho is really in his element when it comes to math

and is really hanging by a thread when it comes to science

like he's the opposite of mingi and HATES science – like who thought it was a good idea to have this man teach it?

oh, they did a budget cut and so they were down a science teacher? makes sense.

the kids either love or hate him because of how he teaches

his eighth graders and seventh graders are like night and day when it comes to literally everything

it might also have something to do with the content but just let him complain about his seventh graders

you actually found him one day in the workroom stressing over his science while eating his ramen

you remember some of your kids talking about jongho and you've seen him at faculty meetings

but never had a one-on-one conversation with him mainly because he was in a totally different content and grade from you (he was still an eighth grade teacher at the end of the day)

you know hongjoong really likes him and praises him for learning how to adapt so well to a new content era that he never studied in

you think that for a first-year teacher he's doing a lot better than you had when you were in his shoes

and you figure what's the harm in talking to him and seeing how he's doing

"everything going okay, teacher choi?"

he's caught off guard by your voice, jumping and looking up at you as you walk over to get your copies from the copier

"oh, um, i'm fine. just thinking about what i'm gonna do for my science class"

"ahh, that's fair, i still can't believe they have you teaching science and math for your first year"

jongho lets out a laugh which is followed by a small "yeah... i can't either"

"but hongjoong says that you're doing a good job for your first year, so you should be proud! hongjoong never compliments anyone"

"really?"

"really. and just know that if you ever need help just reach out. i know you're not a seventh grade teacher but us who teach seventh grade needs to stick together. its a tough group."

"oh my god, i'm so glad you think that as well! i thought it was just me!"

"oh no, everyone knows seventh grade is always the worse year, we all struggle with them at some point"

"that really makes me feel better about doing my job"

"jongho, you're doing a great job. the kids love you and there will always be those kids that make you feel like you are terrible at your job. but all you have to do is teach to the ones who want to be there, and worry about them."

you tell him the exact same words you were told when you were a first year and thinking the same thing

"thank you, y/n"

you can't help but smile as you nod your head, taking your copies and heading back to your room while jongho finishes his ramen

tag list : @frankenstein852 @watamotee33 @kawennote09 @mixling-blog @marahleiwhen @kpopnightingale @harry-the-pottypus @pyeonghongrie @sanniesbum @marvelahsobx @khjcoo @mysticfire0435 @exfolitae @dementedaly @simeonswhore @moonm1st @nvmbheart @spooo00oky @frgogh @sookacc @seongwin @burnsmepls @ad0rechuu @tunaasan @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @cheesekimchi @confusedmoonchild777 @mjyungi @innieontop @iweirdthingsblog @s0obinluvr @worcesheshestershiresauce @moonlightgrleric @wineyoungie @jeongwangjessmina @lemineso

network : @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

#cultofdionysusnet #cromernet #kdiarynet #ateez x reader #ateez blurbs #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez headcanons #ateez hongjoong x reader #ateez seonghwa x reader #ateez yunho x reader #ateez yeosang x reader #ateez san x reader #ateez mingi x reader #ateez wooyoung x reader #ateez jongho x reader

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magicalink · 1 year ago

Text

Do they fuck or do they make love?

Headcanons with no specific AU! Mainly character x reader but it ended up implying character x character ships too in sime characters. I wrote this headcanons and when I was reading them to my boyfriend (who is my only beta reader) he started giving his opinions about them and I found his comments absolutely hilarious so I decided to include them! 🤣 First go my headcanons about the character and then my boyfriend's comments indented. Some of them are unhinged 🤣

Venti: Depends on the partner and the situation. He adores making delicate love to you but he's always up for a quickie in the middle of the house, the forest, anywhere and anytime you're willing. And oh Archons, is he intense when he does any of the two! He likes sex to be THE experience, and he tends to be over the top when it comes to it. Also an uncontrollable moaning machine.

Bf: Nah, he fucks. All the time. Cuz he is drunk all the time. We all know his only love is alcohol. I agree on the moaning machine part though, he is loud and doesn't care if others hear.

Diluc: Makes love. He has no time for sex if it's not with the love of his life. Doing it with him is a ceremony to remember. Expect long sessions full of kisses, heartwarming confessions, and body worshipping.

Bf: Accurate. Total gentleman. He only makes love. And possibly the first time you do it he will propose to you the morning after.

Childe: Fucks. He is all in for the adrenaline and pleasure in life, whether it's battle or it's lust. He wants to dive in and feel as much as he can,the more intense and dangerous, the better.

Bf: A fucking degenerate. He loves violence and competition and if he doesn't get it in sex then he's not interested. More of a masochist than a sadist, don't be surprised if you fight him and he ends up insinuating sexually to you. Especially if you're winning the fight. He wants to get beaten up. To sum up, he has a very weird way of "making love"...

Xiao: Makes love. To him, it's something sacred that should be shared with the people you love and respect the most. Will worship every inch of your body and be desperate to convey his feelings to you. Will focus completely on your pleasure, so make sure to calm him down and reward him a bit too!

Bf: Turbo virgin who self cock blocks all the time. He is always afraid: of hurting you, of making you uncomfortable, of saying something wrong, of looking at the wrong place...If you moan he asks you if you're okay. He gets soft all the time because he is afraid of hurting you. He has suicidal thoughts half the encounter. But yeah he makes love.

Albedo: Who knows, really. He's still studying what's the difference between the two. And he sure is doing an experiment and carefully studying it when he has sex with you. To be perfectly clear, he loves you, but this whole thing about sex and human relationships is new to him so he's trying to understand all these new feelings.

Bf: "Making love? Fucking? What is that? I'm the chalkman." Doesnt have a dick and if he had, he is not interested in human relationships at all. But if you manage to fuck him he would be writing down notes about it the whole time.

Scaramouche: Fucks because he thinks giving in to love will make him weak.💔

Bf: Fucks and he only thinks about his mommy issues while doing it. He only fucks to dissociate. And if you treat him with basic human kindness he will start seeing you as a maternal figure so be careful.

Wanderer: Now understands that lying about his feelings is the true form of weakness and doesn't want to waste a single more second of life, he makes love to you making sure he makes crystal clear how he feels about you: in the most explicit, toe-curling, fluid dropping way he can. If you like it hard, prepare to be smacked until you can't sit the following day.

Bf: He's gone to therapy so the mommy issues are better but he's still annoying af. He plays hard to get and pretends not to be committed but the truth is he's just being tsundere and hiding the fact that he is eating from the palm of your hand.

Kazuha: Makes the finest comfiest love in the world. Fucks like a horndog when he's drunk or high but won't stop telling you how crazily he loves you while doing it.

Bf: He is high af the vast majority of the time and during sex, it's no exception. If you manage to fuck him sober he will be the super reflexive and emotional type that cries during sex. But he fucks you lovely but won't make love to you, he only makes love with the love of his life Tomo, the rest of you are his cattle. He's a super friendly guy so after sex he will share his weed with you.

Gorou: He's a gentleman who wants to become good at making love but is extremely shy and gets flustered easily so he fucks sloppily. An adorable sight to behold!

Bf: I agree he is a little gentleman.

Tighnari: Makes love. Except when he's in heat. Then you have to be prepared if you wanna handle him.

Bf: another stoner. He would experiments with aphrodisiacs all the time, makimg them into weird salts or sth.

Cyno: Very similar to his jokes. He's completely sure he's giving his best at making love to you or Tighnari and showing you his devotion, but his poker face, stoic manners, and scary appearance make him look like he's angry fucking you. He doesn't get what he's doing wrong and doesn't do it on purpose. But it doesn't matter since you know him very well and not only are you used to his antics but you also have become sensitive to his very subtle changes of expression.

Bf: He can't help bit to tell bad jokes when he fucks. Self cockblocks himself all the time: either he goes soft in the middle of the act because he's laughing at his own jokes or he makes so cringy jokes that his partner gets uncomfortable and leaves. He can't help it, if he doesn't get them our he will explode.

Itto: Fucks wildly but it's his way of making love. He is just too brute to control the size and strength of his body, especially when he is under the effect of the feral feelings he has for you.

He loves you so much he can't help but to pick you up like you're a potato sack and swirl you in the air like you are a rag doll and take you with him everywhere. When he hugs you he leaves you breathless, when he kisses you he leaves you all sloppy and when he fucks you…well he leaves you sore for weeks but let's say it's totally worth it!

Bf: totally disagree! It would be so hard to fuck him, he would be clueless and friend zone or family zone you all the time. If you tell him you wanna be more than friends he would say "Superfriends??" With the biggest smile. And if you manage to fuck him he would be super careful, he knows he is a brute and is scared of hurting you.

Thoma: Makes super lovey-dovey love. Always double-checks if you're comfortable and enjoying the experience. Knowing he's making you feel good makes him glad and arouses him so don't be shy and tell him if he's doing it well!

Bf: nononono, absolutely wrong, you're blinded by his looks. He is a degenerate masochist and he only fucks Ayato. They have this weird dynamic where he literally acts as his dog.

Ayato: Another one who depends on the partner and situation. Honestly, he's so overworked that he desperately needs a good fuck. Ok maybe many of them. But not only he doesn't have the time, but also he can't be seen sleeping around due to his political position, so probably he'll only get to have sex when he finally finds the person he wants to marry. He hopes to be able to marry someone he actually loves instead of marrying for political reasons. So if you're the lucky one, expect heated sessions of lovemaking from this touch-starved man! Also, he'll love you but that doesn't mean he's gonna stop being a merciless tease 👀

Bf: Degenerate sadist who only has eyes for Thoma and makes him go through so much weird stuff they don't even remember what is to have normal sex. Tying him up and putting him on a leash is the most normal thing out of what they do.

Kaeya: Fucks. He lives for the spectacle and the mystique of it. Also, he's super popular around Mondstadt and wherever he goes so he sleeps around a lot. He has tons of admirers from both sexes and he makes sure to reward their love and devotion. He knows exactly how to please people, how to exacerbate his natural beauty and how to leave them crazy for him. He's simply so erotically natured. Probably the most experienced guy you know in the field.

Bf: Agree. Turbo slut. No more comments needed. If he manages to open his heart he can be sensitive. But that only happened once and it was with his own reflection in a mirror.

Heizou: Fucks lovingly 💕 He loves teasing and making his partner flustered. People and relationships are simply so fun and fascinating to him. And when he gets to be sexually intimate with someone it's even better! If you end up involved with him, be prepared to be taken to your limits.

Bf: Another degenerate. Probably makes you pretend you're a criminal to chase you around town. Pretty sadistic and I can imagine him having yandere tendencies. A cool guy though. When he is not horny.

Al Haitam: Zero interested in the matter. Until he met you. He is learning everything from scratch and even though he's always been a fast learner in everything, this subject is particularly hard since he needs to stop rationalizing and let his feelings take control for once. But his feelings for you are pretty intense, so little by little he is learning how to make love to you 💚

Bf: I imagine him as a turbo aspirator 3000. He would suck your soul out of your genitals. If you manage him to make him interested in sex, which is highly unlikely because he is like 0 interested in any kind of human contact. I picture him having sex with Kaveh and Kaveh would be a pillow princess and Haitham despite being the kind of guy who always sits down and just reads books he would be restless in bed, doing all the job and moving him around.

Kaveh: Another sweet-sweet love guy! He'll make sure to treat you like a princess and spoil you rotten in and out of the bedroom. He'll do the corniest expressions of chivalry but please bear with him, it genuinely comes from his heart. But if you want to see a more sloppy and wrecked side of him, you can always seduce him after he goes to the bar…

Bf: Sassy pillow princess. Or prince? Idk how to say it. He doesn't do anything but he will be all the time criticizing or praising what you do like a talent show judge. "Come on? Is it the first time you suck a cock or what?" You can imagine this kind of behavior is what infuriates Al Haitham and motivates him to go feral and fuck him around the whole house until he shuts the fuck up.

BONUS: This is an old draft but now that Neuvillete and Wriostheley are out, we couldn't let them out! So for this, we are interchanging roles, my bf will give you his headcanons and I will comment!

Bf: I'm 100% sure both Neuvie and Wriot are completely opposite in bed from their personalities in public. Our chivalrous and calm Neuvie is a pasional beast in bed. He is unsatiable, he is a dragon after all. Gives me the same vibes as Zhong Li who acts super calm but when fucking Childe he destroys 3 hotel rooms every night (exactly the type Childe loves. He got a crush on him when he struck him down at Fontaine's court. I'm sure Zhong Li will get jealous when he finds out and we will have some dragon drama going on) Back to Neuvie, he is super feral but he doesn't fuck, he makes love. It's his draconic way of making love. He is also very emotional and if he likes you, after having sex and having calmed down, he will open his wallet and start showing you the pictures of his 300 Melusine daughters and tell you their names and each of their jobs. He is a very proud dad.

Wriothesley loves you from a distance. While you fuck he is super sweet and loving, but during everyday life, he sucks at showing his feelings. He reminds me of the dad of Komi San, super silent but full of love. He communicates through glances (like a dog). Everyone thinks he is a bad boy but he's a super sentimental guy (won't admit it though) If you give him a gift he will treasure it forever and if someone breaks it or steals it from him he will beat them up.

One of his phrases would be "If something happens to my schmoochpsiepups I will kill everyone in Teyvat and then myself," and when he messes up with you for being unable to show his emotions he goes to a karaoke and sings "Baka Mitai" all depressed. He has 0 emotional intelligence and would go there often, crying "Oh, I wanted to tell Y/N how much I love them before they went away and I just groaned 'hmmm' AGAIN 😭😭".

YET ANOTHER BONUS: If Neuvillete and Wriothesley were in a romantic relationship, I'm sure Neuvie would tell him about all of his Melusine daughters. Wriot would act all cold and as if he didn't care but in fact he remembers all their names and thinks about them as his adoptive daughters. Don't be surprised if you walk down the street and see a Melusine falling down and he rescues her and goes to buy her an ice cream cone. He is a proud dad too.

Me: I have no comments. I agree with everything. And Wriot singing Baka Mitai would be amazing, he has the voice of Jotaro and Erwin after all.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Wow this post was longer than intended. AND ONLY NOW I realize we left Lyney and Zhong Li out. I guess bc to me Lyney is kinda teen coded? I feel like they wasted so much husband material making him look so young. I've seen the fandom drawing him as an adult and he looks so hansome. And both my bf and I rambled about Zhong Li but we forgot to include an entry for him 😂 He says it's ok because he's tied to Tartaglia and we spoke about him in Tartaglia's section 😂 God we are a disaster. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the post, whether you found the headcanons hot or my bf's comments funny. He is scared of getting cancelled though 😂

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hippolotamus · 10 days ago

Text

Hippo New Year

tldr: what a fucking year. best wishes for 2025 and all that. the end ✨

expanded version:

actually, I'm delighted to report that, personally, this year was pretty uneventful. an absolute blessing compared to last year. although i lowkey adored the mini explosion of pygmy hippos 🦛 fandom on the other hand... hoo boy what a shit show. but that's not telling you anything you don't know. it definitely still had its highlights tho! take a speedrun with me, besties (under the cut because apparently i ramble a lot)

@this-is-bwr had a hell of a year, most notably by starting an original work that is nearly finished its first round. i'm so fucking excited and seriously don't think i could be more proud of you (although you will inevitably prove me wrong by doing some other incredible Thing) 🖤

@stereopticons finished and published an incredible, highly anticipated Schitt's Creek fic that's been in their WIPs for 2 years. Love a good exes-to-lovers with a healthy dose of miscommunication and meddling? go read gather up the avenues. you won't regret it, promise. i love you so much and look forward to our next year together. 🦦❤️��

learned i'm tumblr married to a witch (affectionate). when @bidisasterevankinard first brought up the idea of Buck and Tommy getting together, i was... (don't hate me) skeptical. definitely more in the 'ok, sure, we'll see' realm. oops. love you the mostest, babe (please don't divorce me) also, she graduates uni this year and has worked so fucking hard and i could not be more proud 😘💙

additionally, @diazsdimples became my tumblr husband! it has been such a fun year with you, James. From collabs we may or may not ever finish to Alfie and BEST to Ballet AU and Teddie... 2025 is shaping up to be a fucking delight. 💞

@dr-shortsighted-owl... YOU OWLFICIALLY BECAME DR OWL THIS YEAR. WHAT?! I know it's been a Journey™️ for you and it was amazing to see this happen for you. Also, I don't go here but if you're into fic for Jojo's bizarre adventure... she's your owl. 🦉❤️🦛

@eddiebabygirldiaz... jesus, what a year in fic for you (one day i'll catch up, i swear). but i really want to highlight that Ryan is making an original work(!!!) that i am legit frothing over. when it comes out, don't ask me what my plans are... i'll be reading that. so excited, dearest bee 💞🐝

speaking of original works, i'd be remiss if i skipped over @rewritetheending, who released margins earlier this year. I was instantly endeared by Alex & Elijah's story. i'm not exaggerating when i say that i think about 'Tell me about more.' every single day. i don't actually think i could coherently articulate the impact that had on me. it cut deep. well 👏 done 👏 and I can't wait for Adrian & Beau's story

psssst! did you know @spotsandsocks surpassed 1m words on ao3???? And she makes the cutest lil dragons 🥰 Spotty, I am eternally captivated by you 💞🐉

@doctorkinney, yes, Nolan, you are in fact my beloved. always 🪿💞🦛

@slightlyobsessedwitheverything i feel like you're (the most) singlehandedly responsible for helping turn me to the deep dark waters of multi-shipping lol I was already getting there but talking BEST, BuddieTommy, BuddieShannon, BuckShannon, etc has been incredibly cathartic and some of the most fun i've had this year. 💞🐝

also in the multi-shipping lane, huge hat tip to @bucksbignaturals for sucking me into the SalTommy void and deeper into Jeddie. what a ride 😅

@filet-o-feelings first of all, you joined the Dark Side and gave us such a sweet BuckTommy fic. Second, giving you so much love and hugs for all that's happened this past year, and all of the crossing all the things Amazing things yet to come

@daffi-990 gave us some truly remarkable Buddie reads this year, most notably stuck now so long, we just got the start wrong aka rival firefighters. so proud of you for finishing this one. it was an instant bookmark for me and everyone should definitely read it ❤️🚒

@steadfastsaturnsrings you are an eternal ray of positivity and i absolutely adore you for that. i love exchanging EddieShannon HC with you and hearing about your fic ideas. 💞 🪐

gonna give a big shout to @theotherbuckley for your amazing BuckTommy art, gifs, vids (that had me wheezing), fics and tweets (Chris calling oblivious Eddie out will always be gold to me) 💜

i feel like i could go on and on and on about every single one of you. in case you haven't guessed by now, cheerleading/providing yells is kinda my jam. while the beginning of the year (and beginning of April for some reason... idk... strange 😅 ) saw some moots disappear, this year also brought brand new friends that i'm having a blast getting to know. Looking at you @swiftiefirefighters, @mmso-notlikethat, @half-oz-eddie, @peppermintquartz, @inell, @herrmannhalsteadproduction, @lavenderleahy…

and ofc my eternal love and devotion to @elvensorceress 🐥💞🦛 @giddyupbuck @midsummersmorn @lemonzestywrites @bi-buckrights @beyourownanchor6 @bucksbiawakening @monsterrae1 @your-catfish-friend (positively feral over what's coming in the pipeline from you) @actuallyitsellie @statueinthestone @thelikesofus @wildlife4life LOML @lizzie-bennetdarcy @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @djdangerlove @wikiangela @thekristen999 @diazheartsbuckley @dangerpronebuddie @tizniz @kitteneddiediaz @a-noble-dragon @freewayshark @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @imtheiliad @singlethread and many more i couldn't fit here 🫶 😘

#admittedly #this got out of hand #long post #hippo rambles #happy new year and all that #i'm exhausted fr #nobody look at me collecting spice like pokemon #usernolan #userrc

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago

Text

Jungkook

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Wake up call

Sometimes you only really cherish things when they're taken away from you.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, angst, potentially triggering content, Hurt and comfort, JKs dad, major injury, angst, comfort, fluff

Length: 4.3k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

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It's pitch-black when you wake up, and it takes you a moment to realize that it's simply your eyes needing to adjust to the lack of light.

You instantly sit up in Jungkook's main resting spot, only to realize he's missing- instead standing at the main control screen, tapping away with his eyes reflecting the light of the screen in front of him. At a call of his name however, his face snaps towards you, the alien hybrid instantly walking towards you to cover your shoulders with a heavy blanket, before he sits down in the nest with you, clearly in a fight-or-flight state. "What's wrong?" You ask, and your sleepy voice and clearly drowsy state make him feel awfully protective over you-

and that's only partially due to his whole hormonal fiasco going on.

"We're passing a re-fueling station." He tells you, hushed and low in tone. "But the scanners show way too many ships in the area, so I'm trying to move us around." He offers as an explanation, unknowingly sitting closer to you, hands searching for any sort of physical contact with you before he just throws his pride out the window and moves to have you sit on his lap instead.

"Maybe it's just crowded?" You wonder, unsure why this is worrying him so much. But he shakes his head.

"Something's off." He simply denies, eyes focused on the large windows in the front of the ship, offering a wide view of whatever's going on in front and frontal sides- one of those windows being the one you're currently sleeping at. "I don't trust this." He shakes his head, arms slowly wrapping around you as he waits for the autopilot to steer the ship safely past the refueling station.

"Maybe it's.. you know?" You wonder, looking up at him- but he shakes his head.

"I'm.. I would've-" He sighs. "No one can really help me with my instincts because I am.. currently the only human-Bolku hybrid around, so not even Jin's mother can really.. help me understand what's going on with me." He shrugs, holding you in a relaxed, but almost clingy way. "I've simply decided to just.. take your words to heart, you could say." He tells you.

"What do you mean?" You ask, leaning into him a bit as the screen blinks with something- Jungkook looking once, before he puts his attention back onto you, apparently not alarmed by whatever message just popped up.

"You said the only life I can control is mine." He reminds you. "So I'll just.. let whatever I'm feeling run it's course, and learn to control my life instead of trying to just.. hiding in a vacuum." He explains, large ship coming into view in the distance, a few other's as well in close proximity. This catches Jungkook's attention, as he moves his body into a straighter position to properly catch a glance at the ID parts of the ships- required by law. It's typically a flag of the respective planet or organization, combined with a letter-number Identification, similar to a license plate back on earth.

And suddenly, Jungkook tenses up, eyes focused solely on one particular ship it seems like, as it passes by slowly. You're not sure what's wrong, when there's another warning tone, this time making Jungkook growl a little to himself as he gets up to walk towards the control console, tapping away.

He's scanning everything back and forth before he curses, slamming his hands onto the control board, jaw clenched, before he puts some different commands in, ship shifting, starting to steer in a very specific manner that makes the generators underneath your floor rumble in a new rhythm.

"I thought we were skipping this one?" You wonder, but Jungkook grimly shakes his head.

"We can't." He sighs. "I tend to forget that.. this ship is so old." He mumbles, clearly upset.

"It'll be fine." You try and reassure- and he looks at you for a good moment, before he grimly nods to himself.

Hoping that'll be the case.

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Jungkook is usually very much at ease when it comes to situations like these. He clearly knows his way around and is aware of how to act and what not to do in certain situations- year long experience giving him the necessary confidence to properly keep his job going.

But this time, he's on edge- never letting you out of sight, and even having checked multiple times before leaving the ship that the tracker on your new collar works perfectly just in case. He's also made you wear some of his clothes- says it's got something to do with other alien species' staying away from you if you smell like him, and in your eyes, it makes sense. Maybe his whole hormone-issue is just making him a little overprotective.

You understand that, somewhat. And you have to admit that his clothes are very comfortable to wear.

But something you also notice, for the first time, is what he's warned you about in your room, days ago. How everyone who knows his father will look at you with a certain sense of judgement- and this time, it seems like almost everyone seems to know him, because the looks are everywhere. It doesn't bother you too much- but you can feel with the way Jungkook's hand tightens around yours that it does affect him.

"Can we go eat something while the ship refuels?" You wonder, tugging on his hand to gain his attention, trying to pull his mind away from the admittedly tense atmosphere around you. He nods after a moment, nodding towards the employees currently attaching the giant tubes to the ship, before he walks away and towards the food section, numerous different small restaurants cooking quickly for customers sitting and standing close by.

"What do you want to eat?" He asks you, who's already scanning the pictures as best as you can- still not very good at deciphering the intergalactic standard writing. You should really learn it sooner rather than later- it's got to be annoying to read everything to you, after all.

"Uh.. can I eat this?" You ask him, pointing to a specific food covered in crispy fried dough- not because he pays for it, but because he also knows what humans can and can't eat.

Now this fact makes finally sense to you- because as someone who's partially human, Jungkook has to look out for certain foods as to not upset his stomach. For you, the consequences are much more severe, however, so he instead walks up to the counter to ask, just to make sure. The man behind, an alien with scars all over his face as if burned at some point, looks down at you, then at him, before he scoffs.

"She ain't gonna die from it." He says, but Jungkook is clearly not satisfied with an answer like that.

"I asked if it's safe to consume, not if she's gonna die from it." He challenges almost annoyed, a few close standing customers already clearly interested in the small scene.

"And I told you what I know. I don't usually have to feed 'em." The man replies, slamming down his large cleaver into the wooden counter in front of him, cutting a piece of meat in half.

"She can eat it just fine." A voice chimes up, deep and a little scratchy- and multiple things happen all at once.

First, people start to make room, averting their gazes as if an accident just occurred, and someone blasted their guts all over the place.

Almost at the same time, Jungkook pulls you close to him, shielding you in a way from whomever just talked behind you, body hiding you away like he needs to protect you from something.

And then, you poke your head around a little, catching a glimpse of the man.

He's clearly a Bolku with his tall build, even a good hand or two taller than Jungkook, body bulky and muscular, though the face shows the time this man has been alive. There's horns on his head curving backwards, and his eyes are what's the most prominent about him- small, halfway opened, but sharp in their gaze and a deep orange-y red, the color of pure confidence.

A shiver runs down your spine when you realize the small similarities you recognize however. This has to be Jungkook's father.

"Make two servings. I'll pay." The man orders, and the cook eagerly occupies himself with his job to flee the scene, quietly preparing the food. "Snatched a taste of human love, haven't you?" He laughs to himself, now having caught you peeking around Jungkook's arm, his eyes staring you down so much that you can feel your skin crawl.

"We're leaving." Jungkook mumbles to you over his shoulder, hand holding yours as his father chuckles lowly.

"Already? Your ship is barely halfway fueled." He says, sitting down at a table. "And the poor little thing must be hungry too. Aren't you?" He adresses you, but Jungkook hisses back towards you.

"Don't talk to him." He commands, and you nod, before you lean up towards him to speak closer into his ear.

"I'm not that hungry." You reassure him, and he nods, moving to walk away with you-

when suddenly, out of nowhere, someone tugs you away from Jungkook's hand, collar being pulled so roughly it causes you to violently cough from your throat being pushed together forcefully.

Jungkook shouts, but he's held back as well- whoever has you in their grip is bringing you closer to Jungkook's father, who inspects you from his sitting position. "Pretty thing." He comments, using his cane to tap at your thighs. "Healthy body. I wouldn't be able to resist either." He jokes, making who you assume to be his crewmembers laugh while you hold onto the front of your collar to help yourself breathe. "Ah, your mother needed one of those too. They always try and run off, don't they?" He comments, making Jungkook struggle.

You've never seen Jungkook's eyes shine in such a violent shade of red- almost as if his eyes are going to spout flames any second.

"I assume she's not for sale?" He wonders towards his son, who spits onto the ground right in front of his father's shoes, probably as a non-verbal answer. "Figured." The man says, pulling back his boot before he looks at you. "I'll be taking her anyways."

"She's registered under my name!" Jungkook argues. "I'll be sending out a patrol the minute you have to leave-" He argues, and his father laughs loudly.

"Your name means nothing in this system!" He barks back. "You have no worth, you bastard. Be happy I'll let you leave once your trash-pile of a ship is refueled." He warns.

You're starting to become tired fighting against the strong hold of whomever got their hands on you- causing your to breath harder and harder, oxygen not reaching your brain as well, causing you to become dizzy- and it's something Jungkook notices, because of course he does.

And another thing he realizes is that he knows you're in distress long before he spots the blinking red light of your collar, signaling something wrong with your vital signs.

And before you can do anything else, the edges of your eyesight begin to darken like a vignette filter, Jungkook's terrified gaze the only thing you can make out before you pass out, becoming limp in the hands of whoever is holding you.

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You're glaring at the man in front of you, refusing to eat anything that's offered.

He's already needed a large patch on his hand to cover up the aggressive bite you placed there hours prior after he tried to touch you- but he's intelligent enough to not try it again, it seems like. He thinks you're easy prey, probably- and that's what you used to be, and what you would've been if he'd been the one to find you back then.

But you belong to Jungkook- and Jungkook made you want to fight for your life, just to get back to him.

"Do you even know who he is?" The man in front of you speaks, trying to intimidate you with his gaze, but, for some reason you're not sure of, it doesn't work. "He'll abandon you the moment he finds a proper partner to mate with." He scoffs, and you just keep staring at him.

You don't believe anything this man is spewing- in fact, you're not even properly listening, rather trying to think hard of a way to escape this ship- entire layout foreign to you, since you didn't wake up until you were already on the ship. The only thing you know is that the entire interior intimidates you with it's perfect polished metal walls- something about Jungkook's old and somewhat worn down rooms and halls just makes you feel at home.

Or maybe it just feels like that because you fell in love on this ship.

So the minute you're left alone again after he insults you in Bolku language you don't understand, your brain is running at lightspeed.

Vents are out of reach, but maybe if you could push some of the furniture you could reach it- but someone might hear, and catch you in the act, making this whole plan incredibly dangerous. It's risk against reward after all- you're no use to anyone if you're dead. So you look around once more, checking out everything-

when you spot another vent, small but definitely in better reach than anything else. And the best thing is that once you're in there, there's no way anybody can reach out or crawl in behind you. The only issue?

You don't know where it leads. And from looking over Jungkook's shoulder at the general layout of his ship, you know that some vents lead straight into machines- and you're honestly not ready to be boiled alive.

Your decision however falls onto all or nothing- so you undo your collar at the emergency clip Jungkook had shown you, in case they're tracking you that way, before you crawl under the bed where the vent is, cover easy to remove as you crawl inside. It's tight, not much room and definitely not enough space to turn around now, as you move slowly, having left your shoes behind so that your socked feet don't make too much sound.

On the way, you can spot some vents you have to crawl over slowly, showing you numerous rooms of the ship. A kitchen, another prep room it looks like, multiple storage spaces, and then-

bright lights, clearly leading outside.

You crawl faster the moment you hear machines starting, finally able to see the drop-

and it's not only high up, but right next to a small engine that's clearly about to start if the radiating heat and slowly glowing metal were anything to go by. So either way- you're gonna get cooked alive, or you'll break your spine falling down.

You've got nothing to lose.

Safe to say you do end up cracking something- but the adrenaline is enough to push you through the pain, legs running faster than you ever thought you could as you make your way through the ship station, searching frantically for anything familiar so you can find your way back to Jungkook. If his father stayed true to his word, he would be allowed to leave- and you don't know how long you were out for, so you might already be too late.

Or would he wait for you?

You're searching around frantically when you can spot the familiar ship- large cargo door slowly closing, metal wall lifting, as you shout Jungkook's name as loud as you can- even though you just know he probably can't hear you.

You don't know how you manage even after tripping painfully so, but you reach the lifting cargo door just in time to jump up and lift yourself in-

when you feel warms in the back of your shoulder, something almost crawling down your back, the same feeling in another spot lower on your back, and in the back and front of your leg. It takes a good moment for you to slowly calm down, ship's door closing behind you, as the engines start, before you realize what's happening.

You've been shot by some sort of weapon, multiple times. And the feeling of something crawling, was simply your own blood.

It's ironic how you find yourself seeking at least some sort of warmth yet again under the blue plastic tarp- similar to how you first snuck onto this ship. But the tables have turned- and now, it seems like you'll find your end here too, between all the cargo and dust and by now familiar scents and sounds.

It could be worse.

Just like the first time, the large metal door hisses as it opens loudly, and once again just like the first time, you hear boots on the floor. But this time, you're not scared- this time you know who it is, and you find comfort in that.

Tarps are lifted. Cargo is inspected.

And then, the dark blue one you're hiding under is pulled back- but this time, he's not holding a gun, or a grim expression, or anything alike.

This time, he drops harshly to his knees as he pulls you close to him, holding you, uncaring of your blood staining his clothes.

This time, he wants you to stay.

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He's got you in his nest, while he steers the ship angrily, intercom blasting the sound of his father trying to get through his mind. But Jungkook is filled with nothing but rage and that need to finally break free from the shackles this man had put him in all his life.

"I saw her drop, kid." He laughs. "Stop trying to chase ghosts, you'll kill yourself too trying to move that thing any faster!" He jokes, spits at the old ship Jungkook has owned for years now. But what he doesn't know, is that sometimes, newer isn't better. Because this is a ship build during the third interstellar war-

this thing is meant to last.

And withstand.

So Jungkook lifts his face, eyes locking with the one's of his father moments before he lets it happen-

ramming right into the smaller jet ship painted white, causing sure damage to his own ship- but it's clear that whatever happened to his own, is nothing compared to the large gashes and dents in the exterior, communication cutting off as he watches the smaller white ship slowly lose engine after engine, fuel leaking without any gravity into the galaxy, fires burning out, until everything is quiet-

the wreck left behind him, just like his past.

Jungkook doesn't even check if the autopilot is really properly working- he only cares for you now, who's still breathing shallowly in the nest he slept in with you before, bandages already letting your blood seep through. He's not trained enough in human health to properly help you- he's unequipped as well, which just makes this all the more worse.

He can't help you. No matter how bad he wants to.

All he can do is wipe the sweat off your forehead before he holds you close again, curling up around your body, trying to hide you away from everything. When he heard you call, it felt odd- like a sound only in his thoughts, not clear, but definitely present. He didn't know at first what had happened- only when the security check signed to him that something was wrong in the cargo room down in the bowel of the spaceship did he check-

finding you yet again, just like the first time.

But this time, he's holding you in fear. He's not sure if he can even do anything if he reaches a destination- human health is something not everyone has enough knowledge in, and even if that's the case, the chances of finding a still practicing doctor for you are slim to none at the moment.

It's so horribly unfair.

He finally accepted not only himself but you- and now he's gonna have to watch you leave after all, the world taking yet another thing away from him, as if his childhood and adolescence wasn't enough. No- apparently his future is on the menu next, to be devoured with every breath you struggle to take.

The intercom rings, and Jungkook doesn't care for it- simply swipes his hand over the panel near the window to accept it, Yoongis surprised voice ringing out- tone changing quickly as he notices the blurred scene of Jungkook and you in the corner, transmission a little choppy due to the damage to the ship.

"I received an emergency signal- are you there?" He asks with urgency, and Jungkook just hums a reply. "Jungkook, what happened?" He worries, ship slowly coming into view of the large side windows, light blue paint flaking off the metal casing of the small ship.

"We ran into him." Jungkook mumbles, running his hand over your head in a soft manner, relishing in your warmth for as long as it's there. "He tried to take her- she snuck out.. got in last minute." He explains. Yoongi exhales a breath.

"Thank god-" He starts, but Jungkook wasn't finished.

"They shot her." He hums, voice emotionless, eyes a pale grey. "Now she's dying." He chuckles softly, looking down at you- you look like you're merely sleeping, resting against his body. "He's taking everything from me even past his lifetime." He scoffs.

"I'm tugging your ship to the nearest outpost- it's Aon, we should make it in less than half an hour max." Yoongi urges, saying something to what Jungkook assumes must be his human partner. "We have medical supplies on board. Is she still bleeding?"

No answer. Jungkook fails to see the point of one.

"Jungkook!" Yoongi barks. "Did you at least wrap her wounds? Anything?" He tries to find out, but the Bolku hybrid stays quiet- too mesmerized by sight of your eyes moving behind your closed lids. Your lashes are long. Soft. How come he's never noticed that? "Jungkook you gotta give me something to work with!" Yoongi whines almost, successfully connecting to Jungkook's autopilot, initiating the system to follow Yoongi's ship that's not in front.

Jungkook sighs. "I wrapped her up.. the best I can." He shrugs. "Now I'm letting her sleep."

Yoongi sighs. "What was she even shot with?" He wants to know, but Jungkook doesn't know. "Alright, I guess that's the only info I'll get out of you at this point." He mumbles to himself, before he cuts the intercom for the moment, quietly leading the ship to Aon- a small outpost set on a large meteorite, meant for simple refueling of smaller ships and temporary stay for some stranded people who didn't make it to the next bigger planet.

It's not much- but it'll do.

The only problem arises when Yoongi enters the ship and wants to look at you together with a doctor he'd found on Aon- because Jungkook just won't let anybody close to you, mind having slipped entirely now in the prospect of you being in such distress. It takes several people to remove the rather feral human hybrid from you, his eyes basically scanning every little move anyone makes as they check on you, everyone's nerves slowly relaxing. "Humans are truly odd in those things." Someone says, as he uses all four of his arms to properly put some bandages and patches onto your wounds. "They just sleep it off it seems like." He laughs, finishing up the patch on your back before he leaves you alone- and nods to the people holding Jungkook to let him go.

He immediately rushes back to you, tugging you closer, holding you tightly as you whine a bit in complain in your sleep, turning over to properly hold onto him as well.

"She'll be fine." Yoongi reassures, much to Jungkook's eyes turning round with wonder at that promise. "Humans are.. weird when it comes to ion guns." He shrugs. "It's just mostly tissue damage, some scratches here and there- but she'll literally sleep it off, like he said. She'll be fine- she just needs rest." He offers, causing a reaction he's not seen in years from the younger alien.

He cries, bitterly so-

but this time, it's tears of relief and happiness.

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"No no no no- come here." He scolds, pulling you close again to have you sit down on his lap at the main control console.

Jungkook is not letting you do anything whatsoever, even though your wounds are healing well. He's also become, while still moody as ever, incredibly touchy. As if that scare had flipped a switch and showed him how quickly you could be taken away from him again, it seems like he's decided that there's really no reason anymore to take things slow or be afraid of anything.

"Hey Jungkook?" You wonder, leaning your head back against his shoulder to look at him. He hums, not looking away from the control screen in front of him, and you giggle, still a little sleepy and low on energy due to all the medication you're taking. "I like you." You say, and this time, he chuckles-

turning his head to press a kiss against your cheek-

because he finally understands what you're trying to tell him.

He finally gets it.

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#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #alien jungkook #alien!jungkook

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dclovesdanny · 4 months ago

Note

Hii! I'm the one who asked about the dead serious soulmate AU prompt and I was talking about your latest posts of it where the ending is that jazz gave Damian a notebook(Danny's) to Damian which was filled with Robin pictures and notes, and yeah. Anyways, I looked through your dead serious prompts and saw this one prompt but it doesn't have a continuation, at least as far as I know.

https://www.tumblr.com/dclovesdanny/744946841060294656/dc-x-dp-prompt-dead-serious-prompt-14-damian-and?source=share

Really love the concept of it as well as this one!

https://www.tumblr.com/dclovesdanny/743789718574120960/this-would-work-so-well-with-any-dcxdp-ship-but-i?source=share

Anyways! Hope you post more dead serious ship prompts and other ships as well, I really like your posts!!

Thank you so much for the compliments! I’m going to expand more on the second one, even though some other people expanded on it, mostly focusing on time travel and how it would affect it.(I would recommend reading those reblogs, they are amazing!)

This is probably going to be part one of my first connected series. What should I call it?

Damian’s first fact from his soulmate appeared during his first few weeks with his father. Damian had awoken with the words on his arm, and immediately taken stock of what he could deduce from the messy handwriting.

I love the stars

The first thing he learned was that his soulmate was born on February 11th late at night or 12th early in the morning, and was currently ten years old. His soulmate had to have been born early in the morning, and next year he would have to stay awake all night to determine exactly when his soulmate was born.

Secondly, his soulmate’s first language is English. That pointed towards his soulmate being born in the United States, Australia, or England. Of course, his soulmate could be raised by immigrant parents, but that is less likely.

Third, his soulmate had messy but readable handwriting, indicating his soulmate was learned at the least, and further pointing towards the states, as it was required for American children to go to school.

Fourth, his soulmate loves the stars. He would have to have Father fund the Gotham Observatory, and research more about light pollution. Perhaps he could even take his soulmate to Nanda Parbat, where the stars are not affected by light pollution.

He could hear his father’s voice downstairs, and his father’s band of strays were starting to wake. He had spent almost an hour focusing on his soulmate without even realizing it. He gets out of bed, and after a moment of hesitation, he covers the fact before going downstairs. While he would never be ashamed of his soulmate and fight anyone who dared to breathe otherwise, he wanted to keep his soulmate to himself, if only for awhile.

————————————————————————

Danny woke up in an instant, for once waking without his alarm or his sister doing it. The minute he remembered the date, he yanked his sleeve aside to stare down at his soulmate’s fact. He really hoped he was the younger one. He stared down in confusion

أنا نباتي

After almost 15 minutes of googling frantically, he finally figured out that his soulmate’s fact translated to I’m a vegetarian. He also learned his soulmate’s first language was Arabic. Wait, did his soulmate even know English? Damn, if they didn’t this would suck.

Resolving to try and learn some phrases in Arabic, he looked at the clock and swore. It was almost time for him to leave for school, and he could hear his sister coming towards his room. He quickly changed into a NASA shirt and pants and grabbed his things. He couldn’t wait to tell Tucker!

#dead serious #soulmate aus #soulmate #requests #based off an older post of mine #dual pov #Damian goes full detective mode #Danny is just happy to learn about his soulmate #request #dcxdp #(Un)fun facts

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kissingarthurclaus · 4 months ago

Text

'Are we allies or enemies?

This will be the death of me

All is fair in love and war but I can't fight with you anymore

This will be the death of me'

I've been wanting to talk more about Crosshair and Brea's relationship for a WHILE now, but I never really found the 'right' time (in my silly brain) I guess you can say they...know each other very well! As you can imagine it's filled with drama, romantic tension, and lots and lots of angst! 0u0 a little more info + textless illustrations under the cut ♡♡♡

Sooooo, I tend to think of this as sort of an AU! If I'm being SUPER duper canon-compliant with my self ship lore it's not really the focus, but if I play around with timeline a little bit I can come up with this. Brea is a newly knighted Jedi, having just passed the trials, and despite holding rank in the Clone Wars she's not a general because she has no battalion. HOWEVER, there is a band of misfits that have been sort of running around doing their own thing, going where needed, sort of the way she does. The idea is what if for a short time she was the BAD BATCH'S Jedi?

In this scenario, the boys are a bit reluctant to take orders from her because they don't believe they NEED a Jedi. They're not really about rules and protocol and mandates...but they soon find out that neither is Brea! She's perfect for them, she matches their energy and allows them to make decisions the way they want. They all become very close...except for Crosshair, who still doesn't trust her. He only trusts his brothers, everyone else is an outsider.

I'll probably talk about it more later, but she does something or other that proves her care for them as individuals and one thing leads to another, Crosshair and Brea are something of an item. Not a couple per se, but FAMILIAR if you know what I mean. However, it's because of Crosshair's emotional constipation that it doesn't really go further than that, and it's ALSO because of his emotional constipation that things start to change between them! And when you bring Brea's new Padawan Kepler into the mix, things go very sour very quickly.

To make a long story short, Crosshair burns his bridge with Brea long before he joins the empire and he didn't even know it. By the time he does, she's moved on and is in love with a certain other clone! All of that is more stuff to talk about another time though ^ 0 ^ if you've read all this thank you so much and ilysm! 🫶🫶🫶

Taglist♡: @me-myself-and-my-fos @tiny-cloud-of-flowers @sunstar-of-the-north @dearly-beeloved @adoredbyalatus @changeling-selfship @crushes-georg @miutonium @cherry-bomb-ships @rosieaurora @rejaytionships @sunflawyer @in-true-blue-love @tropicalgothships @little-miss-selfships @hotrodharts @cupiidzbow @frozenhi-chews @limey-self-inserts @candyheartedchy

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lilacmingi · 1 year ago

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RUNAWAY

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Pirate!Hongjoong x pirate!fem reader

Word count: 8,270

Note: This is an imagine from April 2022 from my Wattpad. The pirate Ateez imagines are definitely some of my most popular ones and I’m SO excited to share them here! I wanted to do something to celebrate 200 followers but I don’t have any new stuff ready so I’ve decided to post my Ateez pirate imagines! 🏴‍☠️ Pirate AUs for the other members are linked at the end of the imagine!

The moon hung high in the clear night sky, the bright beam reflecting onto the peaceful waters below. The view of the dark horizon was tranquil and the complete opposite of the pandemonium that was taking place just a few feet behind you.

Singing, hollers of celebration, and the clanking of stein glasses became mere background noise as you gazed at the midnight sky above. The myriad of stars dotting the heavens were almost like fireflies in the forest, giving some light to the otherwise dark sky.

Hongjoong's crew was celebrating another successful day of pillaging—it was exhausting. You'd become rather numb to these so-called celebrations. It's just a bunch of men acting like drunken fools to you.

The crew belted out sea shanties in their intoxicated states, the sour notes coming out slurred and garbled. You cringed. You didn't know how much more of this you could take.

The sound of heavy boots stumbling towards you caught your attention. An arm was slung haphazardly over your shoulder, the force making you jerk forward a bit.

"Y/n." Hongjoong slurred slightly, his breath smelling of rum. "What are you doing all the way over here?"

"Watching the moon." You answered.

"Come join us. You're missing out."

"No thank you."

He frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I just don't care for celebrations."

"But you've always enjoyed our celebrations."

"Yeah, but it's becoming a bit... how do I put this? Lackluster."

Hongjoong scoffed. "Lackluster?"

"Yeah. I just don't enjoy it much anymore."

"Let me change your mind."

You glanced over to see Hongjoong's hand extended towards you, his many gold rings glimmering under the lit torches.

You started to deny him, but stopped, pressing your lips together in thought.

"C'mon." That all too familiar charming smirk of his spread across his soft-looking lips. "You wouldn't refuse a dance with me, would you?"

"I might." You teased, a playful grin threatening to break out onto your features.

He made a face at you in return.

"Alright." You caved, clasping his extended hand. "I'll dance with you."

"I knew you couldn't resist." He simpered, leading you towards the middle of the main deck.

The drunken singing of the crew was much louder now that you were right in the middle of it. Hongjoong's cheeks were stained pink from the alcohol, no doubt, as he grinned brightly, taking your other hand. The two of you began spinning and skipping to the stomp of the crew's boots against the wooden boards of the ship. Neither of you ever really learned how to properly dance, but when you're a pirate, that doesn't matter much.

As you bounded in circles, you found yourself enjoying it more and more. The two of you danced in no particular rhythm, stomping your feet and bouncing around like fools. Your hands stayed clasped together as you swung them around, your joint laughter filling the air.

Once the chanting and off-key singing of the crew died down, you and Hongjoong ceased your dancing.

"See? That was fun, wasn't it?" He grinned.

"It was." You agreed, fixing the errant strands of his scruffy mullet.

"You always enjoy dancing with me."

"I do." You admitted.

"C'mon. Have something to drink." He pulled you towards one of the barrels set up and took it upon himself to fill up a stein.

He handed it to you with a smile. You reluctantly took it, taking a sip of the dark liquid.

"Next time we dock, I'll try and get some nice wine. How about that?" Hongjoong suggested.

"That would be wonderful. I'm starting to tire of rum."

"Hey, if you won't drink it, I will." Hongjoong reached out to grab the glass from you.

"Wait." You pulled it away. "Are you sure you should have any more?"

"Of course! You can never have enough alcohol."

"How many of these have you had?" You questioned, referring to the large stein in your hand.

"Three."

You pressed your lips together, hesitant to hand over the drink. Then again, Hongjoong is as stubborn as a mule. If you don't give it to him, he'll just make himself another glass.

"Very well, then." You gave in, handing over the glass.

"Thanks, lovely." He winked, taking the beverage from you.

You watched as he sauntered off, joining his crew to clink steins with them. One of the crew members began singing yet another drunken shanty, causing everyone to start dancing again. Hongjoong held his wooden stein up in the air, alcohol sloshing onto the deck as his crew cheered him on.

"Say my name!" He shouted.

"Captain Hongjoong! Captain Hongjoong! Captain Hongjoong!" They chanted, fueling his ego.

You could tell he loved that. He loved being the captain. It was his dream, after all.

A yawn spilled from your lips, catching you off guard. You hadn't realized how tired you were.

You stepped away from the railing of the ship and began to head towards the captain's cabin to turn in for the night.

You and Hongjoong shared a room, exactly the way he wanted. You were the only female on the ship and Hongjoong's dearest friend, as well as his right hand woman, so he wanted to make sure you stayed close, which is why you got the best room on the ship.

On the way to your shared room, you noticed someone sitting on the steps leading to the quarterdeck. He was hunched over, a head of soft, brown hair resting on the top of his knees. You were curious as to who was crouched on the steps alone. You had been on the ship for years and were familiar with every crew member, but you weren't sure who this was.

"Excuse me. Are you okay?" You asked, approaching the male.

He lifted his head, large, brown eyes looking up at you.

"Oh, Minho." You smiled, warmly. "I thought you'd be over there with everyone else." You spoke, gesturing to the celebration taking place a few feet behind you.

"No." He shook his head. "I'm not one for celebrations. They've become too hectic for me. To be honest, I thought you'd be over there. You're always with Hongjoong."

"Yeah, well, I've had my fill of celebrations for the night." You told him. "Hongjoong is on his own tonight. I've decided to turn in for the night."

"Well, I don't want to keep you out here. Sleep tight." He smiled.

"Thanks, Minho."

You stepped into your room, closing the door behind you.

Hongjoong's bed was unmade, as usual and his desk was an absolute mess. He was never one to clean up after himself. Apparently, he "has other things to worry about." You let out a sigh as you walked over to his desk where papers and books were scattered over the surface. The entire tabletop was in disarray. As much as you wanted to clean it up, you knew everything was more than likely left in place for a reason. So, you did the least you could possibly do, which was throw away any wadded pieces of paper as well as collect all of the pens and pencils scattered across the desk, placing them all into a cup.

You told yourself you'd stop and go to bed after that, but you didn't. You ended up stacking all the papers strewn across Hongjoong's desk, putting them in one, neat pile. Upon doing so, you discovered a large map spread across the tabletop. Your head tilted to the side when you noticed a red dot on the map. Normally, a red dot indicated that the town was going to be raided for supplies. You tried to read the name of the town, unable

to see well in the dimply lit room. Your eyes squinted as you leaned towards the map, until you heard a commotion just outside the cabin, which caused you to scurry away from Hongjoong's desk.

You made yourself busy, pulling back the covers on your bed, only to find that it was just a false alarm. The noises you heard were merely drunken crew mates making a ruckus.

You glanced back towards Hongjoong's desk sitting on the other side of the room, tempted to go back and look at the map, but you decided against it, choosing to get ready for bed.

You turned the knob on the oil lamp, dimming the light so you'd be able to rest. You wanted Hongjoong to be able to see when he finally came to bed, so you didn't put it out all the way.

As you laid in bed, your mind began to drift towards the map, your curiosity getting the best of you. Your head lifted from the pillow, your eyes staring across the room at Hongjoong's desk. Then, without thinking you flung the covers off of you and grabbed the oil lamp, moving across the room to the map spread on the table.

The dim glow of the low-burning flame illuminated the chart enough to where you could finally read the name of the town. You blinked a few times, getting a second look at it, wondering if you misread it.

"That can't be right." You murmured.

Worried about getting caught, you scurried back to bed and attempted to go to sleep. Instead of worrying about what you saw on that map, you just chose to confront Hongjoong about it the next day.

The sea breeze blew through your hair as you stood by Hongjoong's side on the forecastle deck.

"There's a town close by that we're going to pillage." He informed you as he steered the gigantic vessel.

"Was that the town you had marked in red on your map?"

"How did you know that?"

"I saw it on your desk last night. That town isn't a bad town. There's good people living there. Why would you plan to pillage it?"

"We need supplies. Plus, they're nearby."

"That's your reasoning?" You questioned.

"Yeah."

"Hongjoong, that town is well known for giving things to those in need. You should find another town to get supplies from."

"If that's true, then looting the town should be easy." He shrugged.

You were appalled, unable to believe what he just said.

"It makes more sense to go there because it's closer. We don't have enough supplies to last long enough to make it to the next town."

"Then ration our provisions."

"I can't do that."

"Yes you can. I'm not asking for much. Ration until we reach the next town."

You could tell Hongjoong was getting agitated, but you wouldn't have him pillage a town that didn't deserve it.

"What I say goes, and I say we're raiding that town."

"I want you to wait and raid another town."

"Well, you're not the captain, are you, Y/n?"

"No, but I am your friend." You responded, harshly, stepping forward to grab the wheel.

"Hey!" Hongjoong shouted. "What are you doing?"

"Steering us away from that town."

You began to fight with him, the wheel being pulled back and forth like a tug of war.

"Why don't you listen to me?" You asked.

"I'm the captain!" He snapped. "Not you!"

Hongjoong shoved you away, causing you to stumble back and fall onto the deck. A hiss left you as pain shot up your hip and elbow. You thought maybe your friend would feel some sort of remorse, but he only stared down at you, looking only mildly surprised at his actions.

You clenched your jaw and pushed yourself up off the deck, knowing you lost this fight.

"Forget it. I'm tired of this."

You stormed off the forecastle deck, getting as far away from Hongjoong as you could. You were absolutely fuming, wanting to unleash the burning anger inside. Hongjoong only raids towns that steal from the poor. Never has he even considered looting a town so generous—until now, apparently.

The way he simply brushed off the fact that he was about to pillage a small town that didn't deserve it made your blood boil. Truthfully, you don't think he understands the weight of his actions. He'll leave that town with hardly anything. They won't have anything left.

The sound of boots hitting the deck pulled your from your thoughts. Turning your head, you spotted Minho approaching you.

"You alright?" He asked.

Your lips pressed together as you briefly contemplated lying to him.

"No."

"I heard a commotion on the forecastle deck and wanted to check on you. I assume you and Captain got in a fight?"

"It's the first fight we've ever had. He wants to raid a town because it's nearby. I tired to talk him out of it because the town provides for others."

"That doesn't seem right." Minho responded.

"It's not. I tried to make him change his mind, but he just kept saying we don't have enough supplies and we have to dock there. I suggested rationing what we have and he completely shot down the idea."

Minho frowned in distaste. "Why is it so difficult to ration?"

"I don't know." You sighed, shaking your head. "He's never acted like this before. I don't know what's happening to him."

"I'm sorry he's being such a jerk."

"Me too. Sorry for dumping all of this onto you. I should have just lied and said I was okay."

"No." Minho shook his head. "I'm glad you were honest. It's not good to bottle things up. If you ever need to talk, I'm here. Okay?"

You nodded, giving him a weak smile.

The day went on and you tried your hardest to keep your distance, avoiding Hongjoong by any and all means. Much your dismay, Hongjoong had announced to the crew his plans of looting the poor town. You were set to dock in just a couple days.

When night settled over the sky, you began making your way towards the captain's quarters, only to stop in your tracks. Did you even want to sleep in the same room as Hongjoong?

You turned on your heel, redirecting your route to the crew's sleeping quarters, heading directly to one room in particular.

Your knuckles knocked lightly on the bedroom door, waiting for an answer. It creaked open just a few seconds later.

"Oh, Y/n. What are you doing here? Is everything alright?" Minho asked.

"Yeah. This might sound like a weird question, but is it alright if I stay with you tonight?"

His large eyes widened in surprise.

"Hongjoong and I aren't on good terms at the moment, which you already know, and I don't really want to share a room with him now."

"I understand." He nodded, stepping aside. "Come on in."

You volunteered to sleep on the floor, but Minho wouldn't allow it, offering you his bed. So, that's where you slept.

The ocean was rather choppy today, much like the situation you were currently in. The white-capped waves dominated the majority of the waters' surface, the ship lurching with each forceful push of the sea below, sending a spray of salt water up the side of the vessel.

"Alright men, all hands on deck!" Hongjoong instructed. "There's a storm coming in from the north."

"Yes, Captain." The crew responded.

You wanted to ask Hongjoong if he needed your help with anything, but the two of you were not on speaking terms at the moment, so you held your tongue.

"Man the sails!" Hongjoong shouted more commands, sternly.

He's absolutely deserving of being captain. Despite his small stature, he carried a very powerful and commanding presence, his aura almost threatening at times. However, at the end of the day, he was still the sweet Hongjoong you grew up with—well, up until recently. You said you would follow him to the ends of the earth. He was your best friend, after all. Now, you're not sure who he is.

Years ago, when the two of you had just recently turned 18, Hongjoong had this grand idea to escape.

"We're gonna get out of here." He told you.

"And go where?" You inquired.

"Anywhere. Everywhere." He answered, his eyes twinkling. "Sail the seas."

"You want to be a pirate?" You questioned.

"Yes! It would be so much fun. No rules, no nothing." He turned to you with a smile. "Will you join me?"

The excited gleam in his eye let you know how serious he was about this unattainable dream. Despite that, the idea of sailing the seas and living a rule-free pirate life thrilled you.

"Yes."

Look where that got you.

A loud boom of thunder rumbled in the ominous sky above, dark, menacing clouds swirled over the ocean. You stepped away from the railing, watching as the crew scurried across the deck, preparing for the storm brewing in the atmosphere.

Hongjoong was busying himself by barking orders at crew mates, rushing them along. He was unusually snappy today, no doubt because of your little fight yesterday.

"What are you doing?" He shouted, angrily. "Furl the mainsail! The storm is approaching!"

Truthfully, you were surprised he hadn't said anything to you about not sleeping in your own bed last night. Then again, maybe he didn't care.

A raindrop hit the top of your head, catching your attention. It didn't take long for the stray drops to turn into a torrential downpour. The rain came down in sheets, pounding on the deck, making puddles almost instantly.

You noticed Minho struggling with one of the masts, hurrying over to assist him.

"Thanks." He breathed.

A gust of wind blew by, whipping your hair in every direction.

"We should get inside!" Minho yelled over the howling winds.

You nodded in agreement as his hand found yours, leading you towards the crew's sleeping quarters to get out of the harsh winds and piercing rain.

Little did you know, Hongjoong was watching, his sharp eyes trained on yours and Minho's intertwined hands.

The ship made it out of the storm unscathed and went on its way to the small, unsuspecting town. Part of you had hoped the storm would somehow get the ship off-route and Hongjoong would be forced to ration supplies and hold off on the raid until you made it to the next town.

The pillaging went on as planned. Like all raids, the looting took place at night. Hongjoong always said it was better to do these things under the cover of darkness.

You stayed on the ship, of course, unable to join in on the raiding. Your conscience wouldn't let you. To your surprise, Minho stayed behind too. Like you, he couldn't bear to be a part of the merciless thievery that was taking place.

It didn't take long for the two of you to hear multiple pairs of booted feet thudding hurriedly against the main deck, followed by the sounds of heavy objects being set down. Your heart sank, knowing the raid was over and the town was left without many of their supplies. For the first time since stepping foot on this ship, you felt sick.

It didn't take long for the music and rhythmic stomping of feet to begin, letting you know the celebrations had already kicked off.

Minho's top lip curled in distaste as he stared in the direction of the main deck.

"I can't sit here and let them celebrate this heinous act." You muttered, pushing yourself to your feet.

You stormed up onto the main deck where Hongjoong was standing up on a cluster of crates, barrels, and burlap sacks dancing and celebrating.

"So you ended up raiding that town?" You inquired with crossed arms.

"Of course I did." He responded before turning to the crew. "And it was a raging success!"

The crew cheered with him, which only fueled your anger.

"I wouldn't call it a raging success if you're stealing from people who do good."

"It's not like we killed anyone." He rolled his eyes.

"No, but you left that town to suffer. The attack was unprovoked."

"Don't get your trousers in a wad, Y/n. We're pirates. We pillage and plunder, it's what we do." Hongjoong responded casually.

Your fists unconsciously clenched as you tried your hardest to bite back rage. Instead of opening your mouth and allowing your scathing words to escape, you whirled around and returned to Minho's room.

The door slammed shut behind you as the brown-haired male lifted his gaze, waiting for you to speak.

"Minho, can you keep a secret?"

In the dead of night while everyone was asleep and/or passed out from alcohol consumption, you snuck out onto the main deck with a small bag of your belongings, heading for the rowboat. You planned to escape the godforsaken ship that once felt like home. Minho, who knew about your plan of action, promised not to breathe a word of your whereabouts. He even offered to assist you.

Said pirate followed you outside and helped lower you into the water once you were inside the boat.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" He questioned.

"I'm sure. Being captain has gotten to Hongjoong's head and after that little stunt he pulled earlier tonight, I can no longer stand by his side."

Minho nodded, somberly. "I understand. Good luck."

"Thank you."

The boat was lowered the rest of the way into the water and you began making your way towards the town. Equipped with just the necessities, you started your journey, using just a compass and a messy, hand-drawn copy of Hongjoong's map.

You didn't feel the slightest bit of remorse as you rowed further from the ship, watching as it got smaller and smaller. You didn't really care if Hongjoong knew you left. He made it very clear that he was the captain and what he says goes. It was painfully evident that he didn't need you anymore; if anything, you were doing him a favor. On the off chance that he did freak out in wake of your disappearance, you'd never know, nor would you care.

"Serves him right." You muttered.

To your surprise, it only took you the entirety of the night to arrive at the marauded town. Your arms were throbbing and you were in need of sleep, but were happy to have arrived at your destination. You used an old rope to tie your row boat to the dock before stepping out onto the landing.

The first thing you noticed about your surroundings was the stacks of crates and barrels that had been emptied and toppled over. The remnants of last night's pillaging was obvious and heartbreaking. You slowly made your way off the dock and into the town where you were met with more wreckage—it was horrible. The more you saw, the angrier you became, wanting nothing more than to curse Hongjoong up one side and down the other. Being on a pirate ship for so long, you managed to learn some insults you didn't even know existed and you wanted to use every single one on Kim Hongjoong.

People were trying to clean up the aftermath of the pillaging from the previous night, doing their best to put the town back together. You spotted a nearby hostel, a middle-aged woman crouched on the ground outside, attempting to tidy up the small flowerbed that looked as if it had been trampled on.

"Excuse me." You called out, gently.

The woman lifted her head. "Oh, hello. Can I help you?"

"I was wondering if you had any vacancies."

"As a matter of fact, I do." She smiled, softly, dusting her hands off on her apron. "You look like you need a good night's rest. Have you traveled far?"

"All night." You responded.

"I'll get you checked in right away. Follow me." You trailed behind the woman as she entered the house, going behind the front counter. "Sorry. We're a little short-staffed. There was a pirate pillaging last night. All but one of my employees quit—and he can't quit because he's my son. That sort of thing just doesn't happen here, so it really scared the workers."

"If you need help, I'd be happy to lend a hand." You told her.

"No, dear. You need rest."

"It's fine." You brushed it off. "It's daytime anyway. It's best I stay up."

"Are you sure, dear?"

"Of course. It seems like you could really use the extra help."

"If you insist. I won't turn down someone who's so willing to lend a helping hand. I'll show you to your room and bring you some working clothes."

"Great." You smiled, following her to the room you'd be staying in.

It was small, cozy, and equipped with only the necessities.

"So, what's your name?" She asked as you looked around the room.

"Y/n." You answered.

"That's a lovely name. You can call me Mrs. Park."

"Well, Mrs. Park, I'd like to stay here for a few days. How much do I owe you for it?" You asked, turning to her.

"Free of charge."

"I can pay for it. It's fine." You insisted.

Mrs. Park held her hand up to stop you.

"You're doing me a huge favor by offering to help me out. It's the least I can do."

"Well, thank you. I appreciate it."

"Like I said, it's the least I can do. We have running water. If you'd like, you can go wash up and I'll bring you a change of clothes and an apron. Then, we can get started on the work."

You didn't bring a lot with you, so getting settled wasn't a problem at all. You did take advantage of the running water Mrs. Park told you about. Being at sea, you haven't had access to clean water, therefore you've not been able to properly bathe. The closest you got to a bath was a quick dip in the ocean with a bar of soap. Shampoo, conditioner, and soap was provided for you, which you were immensely thankful for.

You felt rejuvenated after your bath. In fact, you felt like a whole new new person.

After stepping out of the bathroom, you spotted a neatly folded stack of clothes on your bed.

Normally, you'd wear a large, cream-colored shirt with ruffled sleeves tucked into a pair or trousers and black boots. The clothes Mrs. Park had provided you with contrasted greatly with your usual attire. In your hands was a long, navy-colored dress that laced up in the back, the garment made with thick material, as well as an apron to wear over the dress. As a pirate, you never wore dresses. They weren't really your thing, anyway. However, you were trying to start a new life, and that new life required you to wear the dress in your hands, so you put it on.

You were surprised by your reflection, hardly recognizing the person staring back. Your hair, which had started to dry, was fluffy and bouncy. The outfit was different, but you didn't hate it. You would have preferred pants, but you were willing to compromise since you had a place to stay.

Not wanting to waste too much time, you headed to the lobby.

"Mrs. Park, I'm ready to get started."

"Y/n?" Hongjoong called out.

He hadn't seen you all day. He was still a bit upset with you for the way you reacted the other day as well as last night, but when he didn't see you, not even with Minho, he began to worry.

"Y/n!" He called out again much louder, hurrying across the deck. "Has anyone seen Y/n?"

No answer.

In a panic, he peered over the side of the ship, noticing the row boat was gone. His head snapped towards the sails where Minho was standing.

"Minho!" He shouted, stomping over to the man. "Where is she?"

Minho didn't even spare a glance at Hongjoong and continued straightening out the rigging.

"I'm sure she's around here somewhere." He responded, nonchalantly.

"Don't make me ask again."

"I don't know where she is."

"Stop lying. I know the two of you have been spending time together. Where is she?"

"Away from you." Minho responded, his tone becoming snappy.

Hongjoong reached for his cutlass, pulling it from its sheath and pointing it at Minho's neck.

"Tell me where Y/n is." He demanded.

"You're the captain, you're smart. Why don't you figure it out?"

Hongjoong's jaw clenched, his patience being pushed to its limits. Then, suddenly, it clicked. You had to have gone to that town.

Hongjoong put his cutlass back in its sheath and turned around on his heel.

"We're changing course!" He announced. "I know where Y/n is. We're going to get her."

Working at the small hostel was wonderful. You found that you enjoyed it very much. Unlike life on Hongjoong's ship where you did the same thing every day, you did something different each day here. It was a nice change.

The day you arrived at the town, you were introduced to Mrs. Park's son, Seonghwa. He normally took care of washing the sheets and putting the beds back together. Sometimes he helped out in the kitchen and cooked meals for the residents. Now that all of the staff members had quit, he had to take up most of the slack. The two of you got along well and it made working at the hostel a lot more fun.

Mrs. Park had sent you and Seonghwa to the market to get some things she had run out of. She rushed the two of you out the door, going on about how dire it was that she get these items. She wanted to make a cake for you, which she had mentioned was her specialty, so getting the ingredients was very important.

"Alright. Eggs, flour, and sugar." You read off the list. "We got the sugar. Just a couple more things and we're good to go."

You picked up a small sack of flour and put it into the basket Seonghwa had tossed over his arm. That was the system. You grabbed the groceries, Seonghwa carried them.

"My mom really appreciates your help. When those pirates came though and everyone quit, she was really scared. She didn't know how she'd be able to take care of the place."

"Seems like I showed up at the right time."

"You did." He nodded with a smile. "I know it's only been a week, but things are starting to get back to normal, I think. Everyone seems to have recovered. I just hope it doesn't happen again."

"Me too." You responded, picking up a carton of eggs.

Unbeknownst go you, Hongjoong's ship had just docked at the town and the captain was making his way down the wharf.

You had just paid the cashier for the groceries and were headed back to the hostel when suddenly your wrist was grabbed and you were pulled away from Seonghwa into a small alley between two buildings. You jerked in the person's grip, trying to break free until you saw their face.

"What are you doing here?" You spat.

"What are you doing here?" Hongjoong turned the question back to you. "And what in the seven seas are you wearing?"

"I'm helping, and if you must know, this is the uniform I was given."

"Uniform?" He repeated, his face twisted in distaste.

"I'm working at a small hostel. Did you know all of the staff quit after your little rampage?"

You could see Hongjoong's eyes soften for a moment before he quickly covered it up.

"Why did you even come looking for me?" You questioned, harshly.

"You're part of my crew."

"Is that all I am to you? Just a crew member?"

"No."

"Well, that's what it feels like. Now if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be."

You started to walk away when Hongjoong grabbed you again.

"No you don't. You're coming back with me."

"I'm staying here."

"You don't have a choice, Y/n."

You jerked your arm away. "I do, and I choose to stay. You obviously don't need me back on that ship. You wasted your time coming back for me."

"You're wrong. I need you."

"You don't. You're the captain, remember? You make the decisions yourself. You don't need me to tell you what to do because in the end, you'll do what you want."

He opened his mouth to speak, but you continued.

"This whole captain thing has gone to your head. What happened to the Hongjoong I used to know?"

"I'm still the same Hongjoong."

"No, you're not. You've changed."

That's the last thing you said before walking back to Seonghwa, who was standing in the middle of the street with his mouth hanging open, his face as white as a sheet.

"Let's go." You grabbed his arm, pulling him in the direction of the hostel.

"D-do you know him?" Seonghwa asked, his head turned to stare at Hongjoong.

"I used to."

"He's the captain of the pirate crew that looted our town."

"I know."

"What?"

"It's a long story."

"If you're with him, then—"

"I'm not with him. I ran away. He wanted to pillage your town and I told him not to because this town is so selfless, but he didn't listen, so I left the ship."

"You're a pirate?" Seonghwa gaped.

"Yes."

"Is he going to take you back?"

"He's trying to."

Once you got back to the hostel, you gave Mrs. Park the items she asked for and hurried to your room, Seonghwa following behind.

"What are you going to do?" He asked.

"I don't know." You muttered, pacing back and forth. "I didn't know he'd come looking for me."

Just then, a loud thump came from the somewhere downstairs. You and Seonghwa shared a wide-eyed look before hurrying to the door. You peered over the shallow staircase and spotted Hongjoong at the front desk.

"You wouldn't happen to how a Y/n, would you?" He asked.

"No." Mrs. Park lied.

"I know she's here." Hongjoong spat.c"Where's her room?"

"Crap." You whispered, retreating to your bedroom where you frantically began packing your things.

"What are you doing? Where are you going?" Seonghwa questioned.

"I don't know. Away from here."

The dress you wore was restricting you immensely, making it hard for you to move around.

"I hate this thing." You grumbled.

"I have an idea. I'll go distract him while you change and make your escape."

You gave him a nod and gathered the clothes you arrived in, which had so generously been washed by Mrs. Park.

While Seonghwa was downstairs stalling, you quickly stripped off the confining dress, changing into your comfortable pirate attire. Not wanting to leave things in a mess, you hastily folded the dress and apron, lying it on the bed before you snuck out the window.

"You!" Hongjoong pointed when Seonghwa appeared downstairs. "Tell me where Y/n is."

"She's not here."

"Yes she is. Where are you hiding her?" He pressed.

"I already told you. She's not here."

Hongjoong's lip curled into a snarl as realization struck him. He then rushed out the front entrance, turning the corner to catch you just as your feet landed on the ground.

You were relived, feeling like you had successfully made your escape.

"You didn't think you could get away from me that easily, did you?"

Your heart sank.

Hongjoong grabbed you, pulling you out into the streets, yanking you towards the docks. You jerked and writhed in his grip, shouting at him to let go, but he wouldn't listen. Your heels dug into the dirt as you tried to stop Hongjoong, but it didn't work. His grip on you was too strong.

Seonghwa, who rushed out after Hongjoong, spotted him as he pulled you through town.

No one dared to help. It was obvious the townspeople recognized Hongjoong from the pillaging a week prior. They wouldn't dare try and stand up to him.

"I hate you!" You spat.

"I could care less about your feelings towards me."

"Clearly you do. If you didn't care that I was mad at you, you wouldn't have come looking for me."

His hand tightened around your wrist, which let you know you struck a nerve.

"Let go of me." You hissed.

"Not until we're back on the ship."

"Hey!" Someone cut in.

Hongjoong stopped in his tracks, turning to see who had shouted at him. You turned as well, gasping when you saw Seonghwa standing on the dock a few feet behind you.

"Let her go."

"And who do you think you are?"

"Her friend."

Hongjoong scoffed. "You've only known her for a week. You're not her friend. I'm her friend."

"Really? It doesn't look like it."

Hongjoong used his free hand to pull out his pistol, pointing it at Seonghwa.

"Stay out of our business before I put a bullet in your head."

"Hongjoong!" You snapped, pushing the barrel down. "What is wrong with you?"

He gave you a sharp glare before you turned to the man attempting to save you.

"Seonghwa." You placed your free hand on his shoulder. "I need to go."

"What?" He asked in disbelief. "You're going back?"

"I have to. There's things that need to be dealt with."

Seonghwa gave Hongjoong a skeptical look.

"It's not what you want, though."

"It's what needs to be done. Tell your mom I'm glad I could help her out, but that I needed to go. Good luck with your business."

Seonghwa gave you a sad look, but nodded in understanding.

As soon as Hongjoong had you back on the ship, he let you go, beginning to bark orders at the crew.

"Let's get out of here!"

While he was distracted, you hurried off, searching for Minho. You hadn't seen him on the deck, so you thought he was in his room.

You burst into his bedroom, but he was nowhere to be seen. After searching different areas of the ship, you found him in the galley, cleaning the tables.

"Minho!"

"Y/n. You're back." He responded, seeming surprised.

"Not by choice."

"Well, just because you're being forced to stay on this ship, doesn't mean you should be forced to be around Hongjoong. You can stay in my room if you want to."

"Thank you. What are you doing down here?"

"Hongjoong put me on kitchen duty when I refused to tell him where you were."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. I don't mind cleaning up down here."

"Well, I appreciate that you kept my secret and tried to protect me." You smiled, giving him a light hug.

Just then, Hongjoong burst into the galley.

"I look away for two seconds and you've run off again. Now I find you hanging all over him."

He stormed over, grabbing your upper arm.

"Come here. We have some talking to do."

"Let go of her." Minho snapped. "You've forced her back on this ship. That should be enough."

"I'll deal with you later." Hongjoong pointed, pulling you out of the room.

You shouted at him as he dragged you all the way to the captain's quarters, calling him every name you could think of. Even when he released your arm, you continued ranting and raving.

"I can't even explain how angry I am right now!"

The door was then locked shut, causing you to spin around, abruptly. Hongjoong stood a few feet from you, his eyes dark as they stared into yours.

"Don't look at me like that. You have no right to be acting this w—"

You were cut off as Hongjoong pressed you against the door, his arms trapping you.

"I have every right to be acting this way. You're mine, remember?"

"I'm no one's."

You had barely gotten the sentence out of your mouth when his lips pressed harshly against yours. You had no time to react and were left frozen in place, your mind scrambling to make sense of what was going on.

Your eyes unconsciously fluttered closed as you allowed yourself to give in momentarily.

Hongjoong kissed you hungrily, letting out small growls that vibrated against your lips. You wanted so desperately to push him away. Your mind screamed at you to do so, but you couldn't. He had your mind in such a fog you couldn't seem to care what was wrong and what was right. Hongjoong's head tilted to the side, allowing his mouth to fit more closely with yours.

This is not right. This is not right.

Your senses finally kicked in and you pulled away, your hand making contact with Hongjoong's cheek as a resounding smack filled the air.

"What's wrong with you?"

Hongjoong placed a hand on his stinging cheek as he took a step back, a mildly shocked expression on his face.

"You got mad that I ran away, chased me down, acted like the biggest jerk ever, then all of a sudden you just kiss me?" You questioned. "What did you think that was gonna do?"

"I..." He trailed off.

"If you thought I would confess my love to you and forgive you, you're wrong. I don't love you. I love the old Hongjoong. The one who isn't this." You said, gesturing to him. "Just so you know, I'm sleeping in Minho's room tonight. If you need me, that's where I'll be." You told him, turning to leave.

"Wait." Hongjoong took hold of your wrist, this time much more softly, almost pleading. "Don't go."

You gave him an expectant look, waiting to see what he had to say. Though he was being a pompous jerk, he was still your friend and you were willing to hear him out.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what's gotten into me lately. You're right. This whole captain thing has gotten to my head. Being a pirate and being in charge of everyone made me feel like I could take whatever I wanted, that included you."

He paused, collecting his thoughts before continuing.

"The truth is, I love you—yes, I said love. Before you and I started this journey together I liked you, but over the years that turned into something more. My feelings for you combined with my sudden superiority complex made me think you belonged to me. In reality, I just couldn't stand the thought of not seeing you again. It made my chest hurt."

Your gaze softened a bit.

Truthfully, you'd held some feelings for Hongjoong. Though, you tried to bury them, they were slowly resurfacing after his heartfelt confession.

"I had no reason to go after you like that. I should have just let you stay. You were right. You don't belong to me." He added.

That's all it took.

You grabbed his collar, pulling him forward and swiftly placing your lips on his. Hongjoong's words meant a lot to you and you were more than willing to forgive him.

He was stiff at first, not expecting you to initiate the kiss. Then, once he registered what was happening he started to reciprocate, kissing you with just as much hunger and ferocity as he was minutes earlier. There was so much passion and desperation in the kiss that it left you breathless. One of his hands made it's way to your waist while the other rested on your upper back, pulling you closer to him. His lips fully encased yours a few times before taking your bottom lips between his teeth. You were blown away by his kissing skills, your mind and body turning to mush.

When he parted ways, you found yourself gasping for breath, your chest heaving up and down. You didn't get a lot of time to relax as Hongjoong began leaving open-mouth kisses down your neck. Your breath caught in your throat as your fingers tangled themselves in Hongjoong's tousled mullet, grabbing at the long strands. Small gasps left you when his teeth grazed your skin. You never thought he would be so bold, but you weren't complaining at all.

Hongjoong pulled away, his eyes glazed over as he stared into your own. His lips were puffy from the intense makeout session and his cheeks were flushed—and this time it wasn't from alcohol.

"Don't ever run away from me again." He murmured hoarsely, his thumb running over your bottom lip.

"Don't do anything stupid and I won't."

He let out a short chuckle. "I promise. I also wanna say that I'm sorry for looting that town. I should have listened to you. I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you."

"Whatever it takes?" You questioned.

He nodded.

"Well, there is one thing."

Hongjoong returned the stolen items to the small town, apologizing for his actions. He continuously said he wasn't the type of person to do such horrible things and that he hopes the townspeople could forgive him.

Being the selfless people they were, the citizens forgave Hongjoong and even allowed him to keep some of the things he and the crew had looted. It was just enough supplies to last everyone until they got to another town. Mrs. Park and Seonghwa were happy to see you and understood that, while you had a good time staying in the town, your true home was at sea with Hongjoong. Mrs. Park even gave you her specialty cake as a parting gift.

"I baked it after you left." She told you.

"Don't you want to save some of this for yourself?"

"No." She shook her head. "You take it. Share it with the crew and that headstrong captain of yours."

You chuckled at her choice of adjective.

"He wasn't always so headstrong." You commented, glancing across the way at Hongjoong as he chatted with one of the townspeople. "That's why I'm here to be his voice of reason."

"Good." Mrs. Park smiled. "A man like him needs a strong woman by his side to keep him in check."

You chuckled lightly in response.

"Hey." Hongjoong cut in as he approached, snaking an arm around your waist. "We should get going."

You gave Seonghwa and Mrs. Park a bittersweet smile. "Thank you both for all the fond memories and giving me somewhat of a vacation."

"You're welcome." Seonghwa grinned.

"Come back anytime, dear." Mrs. Park smiled warmly.

With that, everyone boarded the ship and set sail once again.

"Mrs. Park gave me a cake." You smiled, showing Hongjoong. "It's her specialty."

"Looks good. Why don't we try it out?"

"It's to share with the crew." You told him, pulling it away.

"I'll share." Hongjoong responded with pleading eyes.

"I'll make sure you do."

"Hey." He piped up. "You know what goes good with cake?"

"What?"

"A party!"

For the first time in months, a party actually sounded fun.

Sour notes traveled through the night air as the crew sang out of tune. The celebration had just kicked off, so you knew the unpleasant singing wasn't from alcohol, though you expected it to get worse as the night went on.

Even Minho joined in on the celebrating, singing along with the crew and dancing around.

You sat alone on the forecastle deck watching the stars, the garbled singing once again becoming background noise.

The gentle thump of boots approaching caught you attention. You turned your head just as Hongjoong sat down next to you.

"What are you doing up here all alone? The party's not boring, is it?"

"No. I just wanted to watch the stars."

"Well, I brought you a slice of cake."

"Ah. Thank you." You smiled, taking the small plate from him. "What about you?"

"I thought we could share it." He responded, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

You tried to hold back a grin as he took the fork, getting a small bite of cake, bringing it to your lips.

You allowed Hongjoong to feed you, your eyes widening once you tasted the sweet treat.

"Mrs. Park was right. This is definitely her specialty." You commented.

"Wait." Hongjoong reached out, his fingers delicately holding your chin, turning you towards him. "You have something on you."

You didn't have time to respond as Hongjoong leaned in, pressing his lips to yours, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip, sending a rush of heat across your face.

He parted ways, letting out a chuckle as he licked his lips. "Got it."

You playfully smacked his shoulder, turning away in embarrassment.

"I can't believe you did that."

"But you liked it."

"A little." You responded, shyly.

"Oh. I almost forgot." He muttered, getting to his feet. "Wait here."

Hongjoong hurried off, returning moments later.

"Look what I got." He held up a bottle. "I told you I'd get us some fine wine."

"Where'd you get it?"

"Someone in that town gave it to me. He said it's meant to be shared with someone you love and then gestured to you." He chuckled. "I don't know how he knew we were together, but I have wine because of it."

"What are you waiting for? Let's open it."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

He popped the cork on the bottle, handing it to you. "M'lady." He offered.

You gladly took the bottle, taking a sip and humming in approval before handing it to him.

Your head rested on his shoulder as he took a large gulp of alcohol, setting the bottle on the deck.

"I love you, Hongjoong."

The words unconsciously slipped out, but you didn't care. Hongjoong's head rested on top of yours as he responded.

"I love you too, Y/n."

Seonghwa ⟡ Yunho ⟡ Yeosang ⟡ San ⟡ Mingi ⟡ Wooyoung ⟡ Jongho

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