#I have another pair of clip-ons that rattle a lot when I move and they drive me nuts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gt-adventures · 3 years

Text

Like A Good Neighbor (sfw GT story!)

A tale of the Mystic Woods

Featuring the “Evil” Giant Wizard Yonah HaEsh and Myran the Dwarf Witch and many other fun characters!

A story about bad first impressions and the start of new friendships! Lots of GT, and a cute little adventure at a magical farmer’s market!

Warnings: intense fearplay and mild harm involving an intimidation tactic with biting (no loss of limbs!). Yonah is a Fee Fi Fo Fum kind of “Evil” giant but it’s all an act. He’s just very convincing. And in this story he is still new to his Evil job. Also casual mentions of man-eating monsters/giants (no scenes).

For more detailed warnings go to THIS POST

---

“Did you hear?”

“Have you been told?”

“A new resident!”

“I haven’t checked it out myself! But Ms Zukkar told me-”

“A wizard!”

“Didn’t there used to be an old sorcerer there?”

“-new guy’s a witch!”

“So, hear about that new giant!”

“A giant wouldn’t fit in that tower! And wizards is all human!”

“A criminal, on the run they say”

“Maybe a magician? They like towers sometimes!”

“His Majesty wouldn’t hire a criminal!”

“-supposed to be evil?”

There were so many rumors being flung around that the dwarf witch Myran Gamadin decided to see for themselves and set out to investigate. Undoubtedly there was a new resident. The story was that he was a Mage, and a criminal, but also just expelled from The Academy of Wizardry. And a giant? That was strange, the old tower was much too small for a giant! Even if it was magic it was only 10ft taller than your average giant in the first place. However… they did hear about the trial of a giant recently… stuff that happened in the civilized court didn’t really concern those in the Woods.

“Why would you go to see a villain? You’re not evil!”

The World’s Largest™ Maine Coon cat trotted alongside the handsome young dwarf, looking more like an oddly fluffy pony than a cat.

“It’s important to know your neighbors! Even the evil ones!”

Siv flicked his tail up into his witch’s face.

“And he’s got to be just a young man! So young and the expectations on evil mages is so high! He will appreciate a friendly face!” Myran had done the math. If this Mage hadn’t even graduated from The Academy, he was at most 23. Unless he started his education late. But they doubted this.

“Why are we walking! You have your broom!” the cat complained.

“That’s for the tower, Siv. It’s one of those designed by assholes who think it’s clever to have the only entrance be the window at the top.”

“Hrfff,” said Siv.

“Do you think he will appreciate the house-warming gift? I didn’t really spend much time on it…”

“Fresh fish would be better.”

“Maybe if he were a cat. This is for a Mage.”

“Clippings of magical plants? Maybe for another witch. This is someone who was studying Wizardry.”

“Wizards use magical plants too!”

“Yeah, they buy them from witches!”

As the pair stepped out of the trees, they froze.

“I think he’ll like the gift,” Siv admitted as he And Myran stood in awe at the largest magical garden either of them had ever seen.

It wasn’t even finished yet! Plots of earth were freshly turned, and piles of wood, half built into beds that lay in patterns across the clearing. And massively spread apart. At least 3 meters between plots. And the finished ones. Well. They already had some amazing specimens. Even if they were just sprouting. Myran noticed the Twisted WyrmFern and harpy’s breath; delicate, but common magical plants that were being used to test out the soil. It was working great.

The garden did make Myran worry a bit.

Maybe this wasn’t a wizard at all! It could be a witch. And he could be very evil indeed. Even evil witches treated their gardens with the utmost care and attention.

But they had come this far. And the tower that looked over the garden was calling to them. Well. Not really. The green-black thorny vines screamed “STAY AWAY!” But when one had a flying broomstick, one didn’t need to heed such warnings.

Flipping their broom around like a baton, they sat side saddle and Siv hopped on the end, somehow managing to balance his prodigious fluff. They took off. And flew into the window.

“WOAAAHHH!”

It was like hitting an unexpected and large wave on a boogie board, but a magical one that flowed through the body! And Myran had never been to the ocean, so it made their brain swim.

The room, which from the outside looked normal, was anything but. The rumors of this being a giant were not just rumors.

This place was HUGE!

And yet, it was much too small.

Growing up, Myran had visited some giant villages with their family. They hadn’t been THAT much smaller then, but the houses and items in the village were definitely much larger. While giant mages certainly existed, they had their own traditions and made their own supplies.

This looked exactly like the workshop for a young wizard, with additions for the wizard being a giant. It was wild to see some of the common arcane tools at such an immense scale.

Flying over, Myran saw that the resident Mage had an ancient book under a magnifying glass, and had been translating it, with notes and commentary. Spell equations and diagrams were additionally copied in a dedicated smaller notebook.

While it was surely a fascinating read, they could tell at a glance the notes were somewhere in the middle of an involved spell, and they didn’t want to be the reason the Mage lost his place. The workbench had plenty of other diverting materials.

Siv had no interest in such things and curled up against the base of the magnifying glass. The sun hit the metal through the window, making it quite warm.

Myran put their broom down and explored the desk. There were several magical tombs! Rare ones! They flipped through and saw fresh handwritten notes tucked inside. Smart, this mage did not want to tarnish the original pages. There was also an open notebook and a few spell components laid out.

They stepped carefully back onto the notebook to get a better idea of what this wizard was up to. The notebook was written in giant, which Myran wasn’t fluent in but got the gist of. So this was indeed a giant wizard. Fascinating.

That’s what they were thinking until...

FEE FI FO FUM!

Myran nearly jumped out of their boots.

No longer fascinating. Very bad. Very dangerous! They’d heard stories that quoted these lines, classic, even amusing. However, hearing them bellowed by an actual giant nearly stopped their heart. These words were so loud and so immediately panic-inducing, especially when accompanied by thundering footsteps.

I SMELL THE BLOOD OF THE-

There was a pause and maybe a stutter

DWARVEN KIND!

The trap door off center in the room burst open and a giant with a mane of black hair, a trimmed goatee, and a wizard’s hat, climbed out. He was smiling, snarling, showing off impressive fangs.

USELESS TO FLEE, USELESS TO FIGHT, FOR YOU WILL BE MY MEAL TONIGHT!

Eat them!? Oh No. Myran scrambled to their feet as the giant advanced.

Siv had gone catatonic, or nearly, and fled behind the mirror. But Myran just stood there. The next thing they knew they were in the giant's fist.

Never had Myran imagined themselves in this predicament. Witches, as far as they knew, were not prone to being eaten by giants! Giants ate thieves, slayers, adventurers! Though... giants were known to occasionally eat random people that happened to be especially rude to them as they went about their business.

Myran had not been rude! They just hadn’t had a chance to be polite! This giant had no business eating them.

Not that any of this was actually going through Myran’s mind. Oh no. Myran’s thoughts were preoccupied with panicking about their impending doom!

They tried to get themselves free of the giant’s grip but like the giant said, it was useless to fight. Then the giant LICKED THEM IN THE FACE. Ugh it was so gross!! They sputtered.

Yonah sighed and pulled the dwarf away from his face just a bit. “It is rather disappointing, dwarves don’t taste nearly as good as most other smallfolk, but I’m not complaining”

He briefly loosened his grip and Myran took their chance to get an arm free. Big mistake. The giant hissed and caught the arm between his fangs!

YEOWCH!

Their arm was free but the giant still held them. Myran was barely paying attention, for the screams of the giant rattling their brain and the giants grip had intensified making it hard to breath.

Something bit his other hand and he waved it violently. Whatever it was released and smacked into the wall that the desk was up against. And crumpled into a motionless pile. Curious and momentarily forgetting his foe he investigated.

A cat!? And still alive but unconscious. Why had a cat attacked him? Then he saw the abandoned broom next to his notebook. And his stomach twisted.

“You’re— not a thief!” Technically he was a villain to anyone, he wasn’t restricted to adventurers. He was still figuring out what kind of villain he wanted to be. But now was not really the time for self exploration.

“I’m a witch!” He heard them squeak.

“A witch? Invading the lair of a wizard? Are you stupid!” He poked at their face. They didn’t like that.

“Let me go!”

The witch was shaking and wheezing, glancing at him with wide fearful eyes. Yonah loosened his grip to allow them to breathe properly.

“If you’re a witch then what the fuck were you doing in my tower?” Yonah demanded.

The witch was still in shock but recovered enough to speak. “I’m… Myran! I wanted to introduce myself!”

“A likely story! Why would anyone want to introduce themselves to me?” Yonah wasn’t really in the mood for conversation, but figured he could use the practice at evil banter.

“You’re… new to the forest” they coughed.

“What’s it to you?”

“I’m your neighbor!” they said,

Yonah narrowed his eyes, “The forest is constantly moving, no such thing as neighbors.”

“I figured I’d try to be friendly!” they continued as if he hadn’t replied. “Everyone was talking about the new mage in the tower, but no one had any definitive stories.”

Another mistake. The giant snarled.

“You are a fool then! I don’t want any friends!” He hesitated briefly as he said it, not sure of the truth, but recovered fast. “But I don’t want you spreading rumors about my mercy either…” he picked them back up. Gripping them hard and getting their right arm between his teeth. He didn’t bite their arm off, but broke the skin with a fang and pinched their hand. They yelled.

“Stop! Stop! I won't tell! I won’t tell!”

He dropped them and they sat, crying, holding their bleeding arm and hand which was turning a plum purple. The cat instantly got up and ran to his witch. Alternating between purring and hissing.

“Good” he hissed steam in their face, scalding the skin red, as his eyes glowed a bright orange. “Now get the fuck out before I decide to actually eat youl!” He flicked the broom at them “And if you ever show your face around here again, I will”

Finally, they listened to him. They got onto the broom along with their cat and with a burst of magic kicked into the air and fled out the window. Yonah watched until they disappeared, then sat down. His hair hadn’t been smoking before but it was now. Additionally, his eyes still glowed.

His first visitor in months wasn't an adventurer and he’d traumatized them without a second thought! Stupid stupid! Stupid!

Maybe this was his destiny. For years he’d trained himself to be restrained. Keep his anger in check, Keep his half giant identity a secret and become a wizard. But that had all gone to shit when he’d been discovered not as just a half giant but as a half fire witch. Chased out of the academy but captured by the authorities of Orr.

Forced to sign a contract with King Ben to become his new pet monster! So why not be a monster!?

But he still wanted friends… his friends from the academy weren’t allowed to visit him. His tower of magic and wonder was so empty. He put his elbows on his desk and buried his face in his hands.

~chink~ his elbow brushed against something.

He looked down and saw a broken clay pot, the soup spilling out and a seedling now helpless and exposed on the desk.

Quickly yonah dipped his fingers into a pouch at his side and licked off the powdered fungus before saying a spell. With a puff of smoke he stood on his desk, a mere 8ft tall, and he knelt down.

With his more appropriately sized hands he gathered the soil and with a wave of his hand and another mutter the pieces of the pot shook and flew back into their original places. The pot was… functionally repaired. The proper repair spell required materials to fuse the pieces properly. So it wouldn’t hold water but it could hold soil.

As he scooped it back in a piece of paper fell from the loose soil. Curious he dug it back out of the pot and cleaned it off enough to read:

“Welcome to the Mystical Woodlands new neighbor! This seedling is from my own garden. A special cultivation of Frozen Thyme.”

The moment he read it he was instantly planning where this would go in his garden. But… this gift. Did he deserve it? He’d terrorized the one who brought it. He chased them away!

With a thump he sat on his desk, looking around him, trying to imagine what this experience had been from the witch’s perspective. Tried to imagine what it would be like to have a snarling giant loom over you and snatch you up, when all you wanted to do was say hello...

He couldn’t accept this gift but he couldn’t just let the seedling wither and die. It didn’t deserve that. And thus, his brain rationalized a way for him to keep the gift. So now what?

Yonah’s brain was too full of rage to do any proper work, so he decided to take it out on the garden, which was still in a state of construction. He’d already torn up old dead pieces of the overgrown mess left behind by the predecessor. Now he was digging spots for flower beds and what would hopefully be an orchard. There was even a designated spot for herbs.

The reason this was slow going was he refused to use magic. For the most part. Thankfully, being giant made digging and construction easier. Now that he had the thyme, he prioritized the herb beds. It was with a sour pride that he completed one as the sun started to go down.

A large wooden box that curved in a lovely arc close to the tower. The wood was specially imported from his The Blue Sky Mountain Giants Tribe in the Implausible Mountains, the smell of it reminding him of home. The frozen thyme seedling was given enough space to grow. He even gave it some friends that he knew would be compatible.

With his mind a little more at ease, he managed to get himself to sleep.

And awoke the next morning with an ache in his heart and a new plan in his brain.

For the first time since he arrived in this prison of a forest, he ventured beyond the boundaries of his clearing. Yonah knew he was allowed, a certain distance from his tower, to walk the forest. It had just seemed pointless. Not wanting to draw too much attention, he wore his gardening outfit: a pink plaid button up and light blue overalls. He had a straw hat that he recently wove to be a wizard hat, as well as his wizard staff. He couldn’t really leave that behind.

The trees in the forest were shorter than back home, but still very large. Thankfully he didn't have to duck so much to avoid branches. In his mind was a list of ingredients he needed to find. Foraging in the forest might seem like a fruitless endeavor, but when you have the keen nose of a giant, tracking down wildberries was a simple feat.

What a bounty! A huge patch of bramble with perfectly ripe berries. He didn’t need a giant’s amount and they would just get squashed if he tried to pick them at his normal size so once again he shrank down. He retrieved a basket from his hat and started to pick berries.

About ten minutes in, the bush began to shift! A section opened up and out ran a gnome with a garden spade. It smacked into his hand mid berry pick.

“Stop! Thief!”

SMACK SMACK!

Yonah was so startled he backed away and returned to his normal size, the basket of berries spilling over.

The gnome yelped. “Giant!” They dropped the spade. “Don’t eat me! Take berries! Don’t eat me or family!”

There was something satisfying about the gnome’s fear and Yonah grinned, “While you would make for a nice little snack,” he said, “I’m not in the mood for gnome today.”

The gnome shook and took up the spade again, pointing it at him as if that would help. From inside the bushes, Yonah heard rustling, and smelled more gnomes. This must cover their burrow.

“Put that away, or I might change my mind!” Yonah growled, showing his fangs. The gnome complied, tossing it aside.

“But you are also in luck. I am not interested in being a berry thief. I have more honor than that. If you would permit me to buy some of your berries, at a discount for me not making a meal of you and your family, I will leave you in peace”

The gnome gulped and nodded, “Am… sure we can make a deal.”

“Pick up the ones I already picked, will you?” Yonah ordered.

The gnome scrambled. “You will need more?”

Yonah nodded. The gnome whistled. And a troupe of younger gnomes carefully came out of the bramble.

“Kind giant has offered to buy some berries. Exchange for not eating us!”

The kids looked nervous and their fear didn’t spark the same kind of joy as the adults. But Yonah had a reputation to build! And he had to admit, it was still a bit fun.

He watched as the gnomes gathered berries until the basket was full and the adult gnome put it down in front of where Yonah had sat down. He picked it up and took off his hat, dropping it in and noticed the gnome’s eyes get wide. Storage space items were not uncommon, but storage hats were tools of professional mages, not common folk.

“That all?” the gnome asked.

Yonah stroked his beard thoughtfully, “Yes. I think so.” He reached into this hat. While he didn’t have a lot of money, Ben had supplied him with funds should he need them, and he had distributed the rings between his various pocket spaces. He got out a large wooden dowel upon which hung many metal rings. Small ones and large ones. With a pair of tweezers, yonah removed a few silver rings and one gold ring and put them into his palm, placing it up in front of the gnome.

Who did not take it.

“Do not insult me by refusing my payment,” Yonah insisted but the gnome did not move.

“More than we charge normally… You wanted discount: berries, a silver a pound!”

Yonah blinked. He still wasn’t good with smallfolk money. When purchasing as a giant, you purchased such large amounts it always cost at least a gold.

“Oh? Er-” he didn’t want to actually exploit these gnomes. “I'm not taking it back! Take the money Or I’ll eat you!” his voice faltered and the gnomes looked a little confused, and a little more relaxed.

“Leave us alone then, yes?” The gnome reached out a hand. Yonah nodded. The gnome finally took the money, giving each of the kids a silver ring. Any fear the kids had was gone as soon as they studied their rings and looked at Yonah with excitement. It was hard not to let the warmth in his heart at their expressions show on his own face.

“Actually!” Yonah announced as the gnomes started to back away into their burrow.

The adult stopped and looked nervous again. Yonah huffed. “I’m not going to eat you, I never was. I just have a question.”

The gnome ushered the kids away, not trusting Yonah, before turning back to the giant. “And if don’t have a good answer, you won’t eat… right?”

With a sigh Yonah shook his head, “No. I won't.”

“Then ask.”

Yonah took a breath, “I am... looking to get some ingredients. I… lashed out at someone recently and I very much regret it, and want to make some amends. I have giant ones back home but… giant sized ingredients do not taste as strong as small ones. Do you know where, or who, I might be able to look for?”

The gnome smiles, “Yes! Mystical Market. Sell our berries there. Open today, also gnome holiday.” They gave Yonah the instructions on how to find the market.

“Thank you- er…” Yonah put a hand to his chest and bowed.

“Kalle” said Kalle.

“Yonah,” said Yonah. The gnome bowed as well, “Don’t be flaunting riches, mysterious half giant. Marketeers take advantage”

Riches!? He did not have endless funds. He would have to be more careful with his spending.

“I am also looking for… Er... Shit!” he exclaimed and was glad the kids were no longer outside, “I don't know their name. Dwarf witch.”

Kalle considered, “Know them. Likes almond cookies. Sorry. Market easier find than people. That all?”

From their tone of voice, Yonah knew the gnome desperately wanted to get back to their family. It was a holiday after all. Yonah stood up and nodded, leaving without subjecting them to any more conversation.

Almond cookies? That changed things. He had only made almond cookies once! He needed a little more help. However, he did not backtrack to the tower. He knew that if he went back, he would lose motivation. Locating the market was his current task.

Unfortunately, it took some luck. According to the gnome, it was a special place that one happened to come across, just by wanting to be there. The more familiar you were with it, the better chance there was of that happening. Yonah really really wanted to be there. So he gathered his will and set off in a random direction.

After an hour of walking yonah felt a weird tingle all over his arms and legs. Like his hair was standing on end and all pointing in the same direction. Had he entered some magical field? No matter, he was fairly immune to passive magic.

Then he took another step and a jolt of magic electricity surged through his body, causing him to freeze up. Before he could collapse, he felt as if a giant hook had caught around his middle. There was no physical hook, but it still yanked him back, pulling in through the forest.

Eventually it stopped and finally Yonah fell over, breathing shallowly as his heart raced. He rolled onto his back and stared up into the trees.

“What’s the big idea!?” Someone kicked him in the side and he sat up. “You’re blocking the way!”

An elf!

Yonah frowned. “You’re so bold for someone I could crush with a finger!” To tease the elf, he poked them in the chest.

“YEOWCH!”

For the second time that day, Yonah got bitten. This time, it was the elf who sank their fangs into his finger, letting go before Yonah pulled away.

“Don’t get sassy with me! Messing with smallfolk isn’t allowed in the market, you'll be banned!”

Yonah looked around “The market?”

He had assumed it was the Mystical Market because it was in the Mystical Woodlands. But now he realized that the name was rather accurate. An entire marketplace incorporated into the forest itself. Stalls and restaurants built into the trees, with carts parked in between. The trees here were also… there was no other word for it: majestic. Larger and older and, compared to the forest he had been exploring before, more deliberate spacing. He couldn’t even see all of it. The forest stretched on for a while, and thus was obscured by the very trees that made up the shops.

There were even buildings in the branches so that ogres, trolls, and giants did not have to bend down to make transactions. He even spotted a few trolls. Amazing! Trolls (and ogres) were much more likely than giants to eat smallfolk. Giants mostly threatened unless the person in question did something really, really stupid.

And yet, there was a troll, large with brown fur and green spots, purchasing a roll of fabric from the elevated section of a gnome shop.

“Yes you idiot, the market! And my cart won't fit through any other path! Move your giant ass or I’ll get the guard to move it for you!”

His elation at having found the market was in conflict with his pride that was being so insulted by this little creature.

“Apologize for biting me, and I’ll consider it!”

The elf looked indignant, “You threatened to squash me! MAGEN!!” they yelled.

Thunderous footsteps were heard and Yonah turned as a proper, full blooded giant, made her way through the shoppers, somehow avoiding stepping on anyone. She was maybe 17, but full grown and taller than Yonah by at least ten feet. Her skin was a light greyish pink and her eyes were a dark red. She wore a lovely headpiece of woven flowers and vines to look like hair, which full giants do not have.

She knelt “This man bothering you?”

The elf nodded. Yonah threw his hands up, “Hey! I don’t mean any trouble!”

“He threatened to squash me!”

The giant glared at, Yonah who glared back.

“How large folk deal with smalls outside of the market is their own business,” she said. “But inside the market we do not even threaten to squash, or kick, or stomp, or eat!”

“I did not intend to and I did not know I was in the market! I have never been before!” Yonah stood up so that he was not at such an extreme height disadvantage. Magen was a rather short mountain giant, only 35ft tall.

She nodded, “I can believe that.” She stood up. “I would have remembered you for sure.” She sniffed and said in implausible Giant: “You are from the blue sky tribe?”

“Yes! I am.” he answered, also in Giant. “I just moved to the forest. I was looking for the market but… I must have… hit something magic. I sort of fell into here”.

The elf took the opportunity to weave their cart around the giants’ feet, disappearing into the market.

“Ah, the seller seems to no longer push this issue. My name is Magen.” she introduced, bowing.

“Yonah HaEsh,” Yonah answered in return.

“HaEsh! I know the name. Fire man who helped save the Implausible Mountains from the Society of Wizards!”

“That’s my dad,” Yonah said, a little embarrassed.

“Mom told me the story! How exciting!”

Yonah brushed himself off and glanced around, “So... What are the rules here, then?”

Magen shrugged, “Just don’t start fights, alright? All sales are final, so don't go making a fuss if you haggled wrong or think you got cheated unless you believe your items are defective. There are ways to deal with fraudulent goods, but we cannot risk collateral damage.”

“Does that happen often?” Yonah asked, “I only mean to buy food, I can tell if that’s fresh”

“Oh, you have a giant’s nose then. Good. It does not happen often. Makes my job easier. And I usually manage to break up confrontations before they get out of hand.”

Knowing he could likely sniff out the stalls he needed, Yonah asked if Magen could show him around and help him find all the items on his list. She happily agreed. He had to walk behind her as there wasn’t room for two giants to be side by side.

As she carefully led him, she took glances back and down Yonah who was getting a little nervous. It had been a while since he encountered other giants. He was watching his feet to make sure he didn’t hurt anyone, and he was stopping constantly to look into the shops and stalls and carts.

“What is it like, being half giant?” Magen asked, who somehow managed to walk without looking at her feet very often at all. Maybe Yonah was being too careful and people here knew to stay out of the way of large folk's feet… Still, he didn't want to take chances.

“Er… I have hair, I guess?” he said.

“I was wondering if that was natural or a wig.” Magen brushed the vines spilling from her head.

“But mostly, things were just a bit inconveniently large for me. I still managed.” Then he countered. “What’s it like being a guard in the market?”

“The shopkeepers pool money to have me stand around, mostly. Smallfolk behave when an angry giant is within earshot.” She grinned with all her fangs.

“I thought you said giants couldnt mess with smallfolk here?” Yonah inquired.

“You can’t. It’s my job to interfere,” Magen retorted. “I haven't hurt anyone… badly. I’ve only worked here for a year. But I know everyone and everyone knows me!”

They stopped at a stand selling nuts and Yonah purchased the almonds he needed. The seller seemed a bit disappointed that he bought so few.

“Shopping for someone small?” Magen asked.

“Er- yeah.” Yonah said. They both had to back between trees to let a trio of trolls go by. One was only 10 feet tall and barely came up to Yonah’s waist, but another was nearly 20 feet! They carried baskets and bags on their furry backs, and even had some tied to their tusks!

Before they continued, two elves leapt from the tree nearby and onto Yonah’s shoulders! He was about to brush them off when Magen stopped him.

“Don’t! They are just hitching rides!” At that, he spotted more elves on her head. “You need honey, yes? I know the best shop!”

He followed Magen around the market, which was much larger than he had realized. The elves had no qualms about leaping on and off him and other largefolk shoppers and eventually he ignored them. Magen even helped him avoid making a bad deal for oat flour, saying she couldn’t believe the nerve of the shopkeeper trying to take advantage of a new resident.

Before Yonah left, he wanted to properly thank Magen. “If there is anything I can do to show thanks. Perhaps er-” he looked around.

“You know, the juice stand behind that tree has new flavors I’ve wanted to try. How about you buy me a drink? You should get one too. It’s very refreshing!”

��They make them giant sized?” Yonah asked.

“Oh, they are made by ogres!” Magen replied, rounding the indicated tree.

Ogres, kin of trolls and even more dangerous due to their magical powers. Typically smaller than trolls, but that was not the way to tell them apart.

An entire family of ogres were operating a massive open storefront. Jugs hung from branches or were strapped to the trunks of trees and fruit swung in baskets. Behind the counter was an elaborate prep station operated by two large ogres. Around the entire display were platforms sticking out from the nearby trees. Smallfolk sat on stools enjoying drinks and food at an elevation that made it easy to be served by the ogres. Magen walked up to the counter, which was not at an ideal height for her but was easily manageable. She spoke to an ogre with straw colored fur, blue spots, and large horns.

“Edna! I’d like two passion fruit smoothies please! One giant sized and one…” She glanced back at Yonah. “Full Troll sized!” She stepped aside and pointed at Yonah. “He’s paying”

Edna nodded and passed on the order.

Yonah stepped forward. Bowing “Yonah HaEsh”. She bowed back, “Edna Baneclaw. That will be a gold bracelet for the giant and half for the full troll”

Yonah’s heart nearly stopped. A gold bracelet and a half !? He looked at Magen who flashed her fangs mischievously then back at Enda.

Edna smiled as well. “We don’t have enlarged passion fruit, not in high demand by largefolk.”

With another glare at Magen, Yonah fished into his hat. He didn’t have gold bracelets but he had rings. 10 silver to a gold. Rings to Rings. Bracelets to Bracelets… 10 gold rings to a silver bracelet… 10 silver bracelets to a gold ring. That’s 100 gold rings to a gold bracelet (he had really overpaid the gnomes for the berries... A holiday gift he supposed), but this was not money to spend on frivolous fruit drinks!

Too late, however. The drinks were ready, and he carefully removed golden rings from silver bracelets. 50 gold rings and 10 silver bracelets exchanged for two smoothies. They came in wooden cups with bamboo straws.

This better be fucking worth it. Yonah took a sip.

His eyes widened as the cool icy tart concoction hit his taste buds and he took a long drink. Finally, he looked at Magen and then Edna. “This is incredible!” he exclaimed. Magen grinned and sipped hers as well. “Yeah. Too bad we’re the last two to have some for at least a month!”

“What do you mean?”

“That took all the passion fruit we had,” Edna informed. “Won't get more for a while”

“Worth it! Suck it smallfolk!” Magen teased the people on the platforms, a few looked a bit annoyed, but most didn't seem to care. She didn't seem to care either.

“Well it was nice meeting you, Yonah. I hope to see you again. Oh, and by the way, you can return your mug to the ogres for a silver bracelet, even if you take it home today!”

Yonah glanced at his drink. “Oh! Thanks for letting me know. But where are you going?”

Magen sipped at her smoothie loudly before answering. “This was my break, silly, I need to go back on proper duty now, and you have all your things.” Magen held out her free hand and Yonah shook it, bidding her goodbye. It was getting late in the day now and he wanted to get to work on the almond cookies.

Wait… which way was back to the tower? How could he be so stupid wandering off like this!? His mom taught him better than that. Forest ranger rule number 1: DON’T GET LOST. ...okay, so that wasn’t really a rule. It was supposed to imply that you paid attention to where you were going so you could get back. This was not so easy in the Mystic Woods.

The moment he had walked far enough away from the market, he turned forward and then back, and it was already gone. He had nowhere to go but forward.

It was to his great surprise that only a minute later, he exited the dense trees and found himself in the clearing. The tower was on the opposite side. While he was elated to have made it back safely before dark, there was a distinct absence of any gladness to be home. This was not his home, after all. It was his prison.

Yonah HaEsh climbed up the tower and back into his prison. He took off his hat and sat down at his desk in the workshop, staring into the reflection on the large, ornate mirror that rested upon it.

To do this right, he needed help. Professional help. So he activated his mirror. Or at least… tried. He stared at his own reflection, then spoke. “Mirror Mirror on the desk,” he faltered, “Could you please connect me to Shoshana at the academy?”

The mirror snorted. “You think politeness will work after all this time? I don’t make exceptions. This is why your friends think you’ve forgotten about them! Put in the effort! Ask me properly or don't at all.”

“They’ve called me!!” Yonah insisted, but the mirror said nothing in response. Just like he would do when he got calls from his friends. Yonah growled and snorted back at the mirror, fogging it up. “Mirror Mirror, oh magical vanity, I wish to call Shoshana, at the wizard academy”

There was a whistle from the mirror. “Now that’s how you do it!” it praised. The fog cleared and for a brief moment, he saw his own face again before the reflective surface turned grey. Another moment and the face of his friend Shoshana emerged.

“Yonah!!!” she exclaimed. “You called! I cannot believe it!”

Yonah’s face turned a bit red. “I’ve… been distracted.”

Shoshana waved her hand, stopping any further excuses. “You’ve been through so much! I was worried! Since we graduated, you haven't called at all!”

/I never called before either... / Yonah thought. /It was always you.../ When Grand Master Sean reinstated him as a wizardling student, his friends would call regularly to work on homework and their theses, as he wasn’t allowed to actually attend the school in person. And while he attended the graduation…

That wasn’t a happy memory at all and he didn’t want to think about how he sat behind all the students in the amphitheater in magic chains looking more like a beast one of the adventuring tract students had wrangled for their final than a student.

“I need a recipe!” he said.

Shoshana raised her brows “That’s it!? First call in over a month, and it’s to get a recipe! You don’t want to catch up at all?!” Yonah’s eyes flickered and Shoshana backed off. “Alright, I can see you’re not in the mood. But please, we’re all missing you so much. We’d assumed you embraced the evil hermit wizard life.”

“I… haven’t meant to. But it’s surprisingly easy,” he admitted, grinning awkwardly. “I’d rather not go full hermit, of course.”

“Well, then dont go a month without calling your friends!” Shoshana chided. “Or make some new friends! The forest is full of interesting people, right?”

Yonah looked away, but his eyes were probably glowing orange now.

“This… is for that.”

“Oh!” Shoshana exclaimed, “I should have figured! Of course, I will give you whatever recipe you’d like.”

Yonah got out his ingredients to show Shoshana and explained what he wanted to bake. She nodded and made some suggestions for ingredients and spices to really make these cookies great. He did not have all the supplies she suggested, which led to some back-and-forth as Shoshana pointed out some substitutions for what Yonah bought or already had in his tower.

“Got that all down?” she asked, as she watched Yonah scribble out the final lines to the recipe.

“Yes!” Yonah exhaled in relief. “Thank you so much, Shosh!”

“Next time, we will catch up properly, but I had fun designing this recipe!” Shoshana chirped. “What a challenge. I wish you had called first, before just buying random ingredients.”

“I was already in the forest, Shosh.”

“I know, I know.” Shoshana blew Yonah a kiss and the mirror flickered back to his reflection.

It was time to bake! Which he did after shrinking down.

By the time he was done baking his jam print almond cookies, it was past midnight. He needed sleep and didn't think finding the witch at night was a particularly wise idea, especially since he was getting tired. That meant he was extra likely to be grumpy and irritable. So he placed the cookies in a special cooling rack to keep them magically fresh, then went to bed.

It was right after breakfast that Yonah HaEsh left the tower and, for the second time, entered the forest.

Once again, he had no direction, not that one could in the Mystic Woods. It wasn't even possible to have a map unless it was incredibly magical. Still, he was determined and willing to wander the forest for days if he must! But he’d do so at his full size, which would allow him to cover more ground.

That’s… That’s a witch’s hut! He hoped it was the correct one. It was more of a mound than a hut, with one side covered in rocks and moss and the other a more sheer side with windows, plus a flatter side with a door.

As he approached, a garden came into view and he heard a yelp before watching a small figure dart into the hut and close the curtains. The door opened briefly and a hand hung a sign that read “NO SOLICITORS”

That was the evil giant! Why was he here!? Why did the forest let him find the hut!? Was he here to eat them?! To finish the job!? Could they take on a giant fire witch?! Myran was a damn skilled witch, and at least 15 years the giant’s senior by their estimate, but they were quaking in their boots.

A knock sounded at their door. It didn’t sound forceful enough to be a giant. Siv was in front of them, hissing at the door. Thinking it better to be safe, they peeked out the window, then ran to open the door. Just a crack.

Red faced and holding a basket was… the giant. Only he wasn’t giant. Not exactly. He now stood at about twice Myran’s height. A little less actually. Right. Wizard. Giant wizard.

“May I come in?”

“Depends… what’s in the basket?” They narrowed their eyes. “I don’t want any nasty surprises.”

The wizard’s face got redder as he removed the cover. They opened the door and stood aside. They took the basket with their right hand… Yonah hesitated. Their arm had a massive scar from shoulder to elbow, but the hand was unbroken. The Dwarf noticed and gave him a hard look as he crouched low to get through the dwarf sized door, Siv still hissing at him in warning.

Myran put the basket on the kitchen table and motioned to the couch. “Please, sit.” Yonah did. The couch was small for him but it took his weight. “I’m going to be honest.” Myran leaned against the kitchen table and crossed their arms. “This is quite the unexpected visit.”

They leaned against the kitchen table and crossed their arms.

“Oh?” Yonah said, of course it made sense, he threatened them, bitten them, chased them out, why would he then try to find them again.

“You bit me! You broke my hand! And You said if you saw me again you would eat me!”

/Ohhhh/

Yonah’s breath caught before managing to say “I did… didn’t I.” He looked down at his feet.

They sighed.

“Yep. Though eating me at your current size would be an impressive feat. So- What the fuck are you doing here? Besides bringing me cookies to fatten me up.”

“I’m not-!” He looked back up to defend himself and saw their cheeky grin. “I didn’t come here to eat you…” they raised an eyebrow in sarcastic disbelief.

“I want to apologize. For chasing you away like that. I was so angry. I still am, though mostly at myself. I shouldn't have hurt you, you weren't an adventurer. It wasn’t right.” He was almost crying. Dammit, he’d gone nearly a month without crying!

The witch raised both eyebrows now, genuinely curious as to the workings of this monster’s thoughts. “Youre sorry for chasing me away!? You threatened to eat me!”

“It’s my job! It’s my job to terrorize people, Especially those who enter my tower unannounced. It’s part of my job! And… and I like it!” He startled himself with that statement. He liked his job? He didn’t even want this job!! He was forcefully employed by the King under threat of more conventional imprisonment! Being evil had never been his plan and he didn’t want that. Didn’t he?

The witch didn’t look completely satisfied with this answer. But they didn’t get to inquire further as Yonah’s curiosity got the better of him.

“Er- your hand…”

Myran smiled “It was rather mangled by your jaws yesterday. Luckily, I am a very good healer, and well-known in this forest. If you had killed me, you would have had a lot of angry forest residents after your head.” Myran began preparing a pot of tea as Yonah Processed that statement. “You’re a lucky giant aren’t you?”

“What?” Yonah voiced. “For not killing you and putting a target on my back?”

“Yes, exactly. And that was curious. It is rare that evil giants are merciful.”

Yonah looked away, “I’ve only been evil for a few months. I… you’re the third person I've faced as my er… villainous self. And I haven’t… I dont plan on... eating anyone.”

That surprised Myran. “I guess I do not know the frequency that giants normally encounter adventurers…”

“You said it yourself, Evil Giants eat people…” Yonah pointed out, “But it comes with a cost… I am worried… even if I don't... It’s only a matter of time before slayers come after me.”

“Most evil giants kill their victims. Right?” they asked more directly.

Yonah shrugged “I met another one once. Said it depended on his mood.”

“Fascinating… though if you keep up your merciful streak, perhaps you are less likely to attract slayers?”

“Perhaps…” Yonah had not considered that. He just felt he wasn’t ready to kill anyone yet, but maybe there were other perks than just his own conscience to continue to let his victims go.

“Cracked some sort of code then? Getting to be a villain without attracting too much attention?” Then they added “Not that this would stop all slayers. I expect you would kill a slayer?”

Yonah wasn’t really listening to Myran any longer. There were other things on his mind. Things he had spent the entire walk over here mulling over, and he had to voice them sooner rather than later.

As tears welled in his eyes he couldn’t look at Myran any longer. He closed his eyes and turned his face away.

“I know I said I didn’t want any friends. But I do! I need them. And I know I can’t be your friend. You came to me and I fucked it up. But I beseech you to not tell everyone else in the forest to avoid me. I already went to the mystical market and-“

“You… how did you find out that I liked almonds!”

Yonah looked up. They weren’t looking at him but reaching into the basket for another cookie. They munched on it thoughtfully, not a crumb falling into their beard. The tea was ready and Myran poured it with magic, leaving their hands free to hold more cookies. They walked over to Yonah, the tea cups floating with. He took the larger one out of mid air. It was very hot! And he drank. It was… It tasted like tea he’d had at home. His village had alway gotten various teas from the dwarves. New tears came to his eyes.

“You alright?” Myran asked, offering a handkerchief. “You’re a very emotional evil giant.”

Yonah took it and dried his eyes. “The tea is… really good.” That wasn’t the real reason but right now he couldn’t process all of his emotions.

“It’s my grandma’s blend,” Myran said. “I’ve tried to replicate it using my garden, but you just can’t replicate those tunnel grown fungi.”

They dipped one of the cookies into the tea. From their expression, it wasn’t really a mistake but likely didn’t improve the experience. Still they munched thoughtfully.

“I’ll be your friend.”

Yonah’s jaw nearly hit the floor and he almost dropped his tea. It was a few seconds before he managed to pick his jaw back up. Were they serious? They walked over to him, placing their much smaller hand over one of his. Then they smiled most disarmingly.

“Just don’t eat me!”

Yonah smiled.

“I think I can manage that”

[FIN]

——

(You can imagine that Yonah got to hug Myran before he left, probably a little too tight but dwarves are tough!)

[THANKS FOR READING! PLEASE REBLOG/GIVE ME FEEDBACK!!! I CRAVE IT!]

Big thanks to my editors @j0hnnymouse and @vixen525

#gianttiny #g/t writing #g/t fearplay #g/t fluff #g/t fiction #g/t #g/t angst #giant/tiny

49 notes · View notes

mikwrites-archive · 4 years

Text

sweet dreams (are made of this)

✞ prompt: “You know that part in scary movies when somebody does something really stupid and everyone hates them for it? This is it.”

✞ pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader ✞ warnings: blood mention, the word bastard ✞ genre: fluff, a little crack, modern vampire au ✞ wc: 2.7k

✞ a/n: i was supposed to finish this yesterday so it would fit for jeonghan’s birthday too but it’s still his bday for me so its okay shhhh (even tho i rushed it oops) but it still fits under the cwc october event which i was very excited abt so i hope u enjoy!!

There’s an incredible amount of ups and downs to being roommates with Yoon Jeonghan.

The main downside was that he seemed to gain the reputation of the college campus crush. And even worse, you couldn’t find any reason to disregard the attraction towards him, with his good looks, intelligence and wit, musical ability, and athleticism.

Yet the upside is the very same reason, leaving your dorm empty for your own leisure often due to his popularity.

Perhaps that was for your own good, or his, that you didn’t find out his secret until later.

As you step inside one evening, one typically reserved for movie nights and indulging in junk food, you’re taken aback at the figure sitting on Jeonghan’s mattress. You recognize him as Kwon Soonyoung, the leader of the dance team, and he greets you cheerfully. You’re too flustered to notice the way he seems out of it, and he giggles, flopping down.

“Any spare blood?”

“Excuse me?” You blink, pausing in uneasiness as if you’d misheard. He opens his mouth to respond, sitting up and swaying slightly as if he were drunk, but before he can voice the clattering thoughts, the bathroom door slams open.

“Sorry, we were playing basketball and he got hit on the head really hard, just ignore him.” Jeonghan butts in quickly, hiding something behind his back while taking his friend by the arm, who sends you a toothy smile and a wave.

“Sorry if he said anything weird.” Jeonghan offers as he re-enters the room, and you assure him otherwise automatically, inquiring if Soonyoung was alright.

You’ve always been on amicable terms, always been something easily compelling about Jeonghan, teetering on the border of acquaintances and friendship, and you think it’s this moment that tips it towards the latter.

“Any plans for tonight?” He pipes up curiously, and you tell him hesitantly, his eyes lighting up. “That sounds fun.”

“Did you want to join?”

“If it’s not too much trouble?” He looks hopeful, neither of you even remembering the last time you both spent a night in the dorm in each other’s presence, and you rummage through your shiny bag of sweets to avoid awkward contact.

Yet you’ve always been told it’s only an awkward situation if you make it one.

“I’ve got enough snacks to share.”

Throughout the film, you don’t notice the way he barely touches them.

He tells you on a whim one morning, and he has to admit that the fact you hadn’t suspected anything pertaining to his condition surprised him. You’d grown closer in the passing months, and with many close calls, Jeonghan decided to bite the bullet.

“I’m a vampire.”

“Ha, ha, funny joke.” You don’t look up from pouring coffee into your chipped mug, and Jeonghan blinks.

“I’m not joking.”

“Yeah, and I’m a werewolf.” You deadpan.

“I’d hope not. Though I’m sure I would’ve been able to tell.”

Finally looking up at him, you study his expression, and it’s the epitome of solemness and sincerity, causing you to truly consider his words.

“So… those juice packets… that time with Soonyoung…” your mind races to draw the connections, and Jeonghan shrugs.

“Blood, and that idiot overworked himself that day and our dorm was the closest.”

“This better not be another prank.” You warn, and Jeonghan smiles.

“I’d never dream of it.”

You come to the conclusion that there’s no evidence to point otherwise to Jeonghan’s confession, and your mind is turned into a tangled mess of frayed threads.

“You know that part in scary movies when somebody does something really stupid and everyone hates them for it? This is it.”

You’re spinning on your desk chair, the circles making your head swim, but maybe that was just your mind attempting to comprehend the weight of his statement.

“Okay, rude.”

You lift your head to see if he’s really offended by your deprecating comment, but he’s absorbed with his phone, slumped down in his bed, smirking at whatever was being displayed. He glances up, catching your gaze with a quirked eyebrow.

“What?”

“You’re a vampire. And my roommate.”

And someone you have feelings for, your subconscious whispers devilishly and you swat it away like a buzzing gnat.

“So?”

“I dunno.” You sigh, unable to stitch together your words comprehensible to yourself and him, afraid of piecing together a monstrous Frankenstein to loom over you both. Instead you let your head fall to your desk with a full thunk.

He seems to suspect your hidden truth, and sets his phone aside, sighing.

“Didn’t you know you aren’t supposed to invite vampires in? That’s on you, really.”

You don’t reply, so he shuffles over, tapping the top of your head. When you don’t respond, he tugs at your hair lightly, still garnering no reaction. So he places his hands on each side of your head, lifting so you’d finally face him.

“If you want me to go, I’ll go. Mingyu has a ton of spare bedrooms at his place I can crash at.”

But you don’t want him to leave, pulling yourself from his touch, and with a dismissive air, as if you didn’t care whether he left or not, you tell him it doesn’t matter, whichever was easier.

“But if you stay, can I ask questions?” You add on, and he laughs.

“Tomorrow. It’s movie night tonight and it’s my turn to choose.”

“So do you sparkle in the sunlight?”

“Please don’t tell me all your questions are from Twilight.” He groans.

You’re lying on your stomach on your bed, Jeonghan sitting cross legged, facing each other.

“It’s a valid question!”

“No, I don’t. I can also eat food, including garlic, though not too much, I can see myself in mirrors, and can go in the sun but get burnt real easily.” He assumes a bored demeanour as he rattles off what you assume to be frequently asked questions. “Process of evolving I guess you can call it.”

You purse your lips, pondering what else to ask. “When were you turned into one?”

“Nineteenth century or so? I travelled the world a lot though, I forget.” He muses, and it’s just a number to you, not settling in his many years of life.

“Who else besides Soonyoung?”

Jeonghan rattles off the names of his friends, some that were completely understandable and others that stunned your thoughts.

“Is it… hard to live for as long as you have?”

He seems startled at your question, and ponders it, turning it over in his mind like the clothes tossed in a washing machine’s rounds.

“Sometimes.” He admits. It’s difficult to amount the trials and effort of living for decades into words, sometimes feeling as if you were stranded in the sea, bobbing with your head barely above the water, gasping for breath. Others, like you were floating in a serene pool, the sun warming your bones. You move on.

“Can I... y’know... see your...” you stretch your lips back slightly to show your teeth tentatively, pointing. Jeonghan obliges, baring his teeth, fangs snapping out briefly and he grins at your fascinated expression.

“Are you gonna ask me how it feels to be bitten by them?” He wiggles his eyebrows, and you snort.

“I’m not looking for a death wish.”

“I know you’re curious! Everyone always is.”

Nothing externally changed, settling back into your daily routine (with the exception of Jeonghan spending more nights at the dorm); yet there’s still some inward aspects you both had to deal with.

You detect something’s awry with his mood the minute you walk in, Jeonghan not even sparing you a small nod in greeting or acknowledgment. No matter how tired or upset he may be at times, it never affected his fond disposition towards you. Setting down your belongings on your mattress, you pipe up nervously.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” He responds in a clipped tone, pausing before elaborating slightly. “Just hungry. Forgot to restock yesterday. Texted ‘Cheol. Said he’ll come as soon as he can.”

You’ve come to know that expressed hunger for Jeonghan didn’t apply to the human need, but rather the vampire need, and you fidget with your fingers.

“Will you be fine until then?”

He nods curtly, and you know it’s not personal, but the manner it’s delivered stings.

“If you want, you could… I could help.” You finish lamely, nervously.

He snarls, lip curling, and it rises the gooseflesh on your skin, your hands tightening over your phone as your heartbeat pounds out of your chest.

“I said— just drop it, okay?”

You stand there for a few moments, feeling rooted to the floor as he turns away sullenly, and you force yourself to trudge away quietly. When Seungcheol arrives, he pulls you outside after delivering the packets.

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. He’s just a little grumpy, the equivalence to being hangry.” Seungcheol smiles apologetically. “I hope he didn’t scare you or anything. Jeonghan’s actually pretty tame when he’s hungry, but I know you saw Soonyoung once and they’re quite different.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.” Seungcheol looks at you curiously.

“Does.... blood taste different depending on the person?”

“Yes and no. For instance, we can tell if someone’s smoked or drank alcohol, but in terms of different people having different tastes, it’s just a matter of blood type. Why?”

“Well, I offered to... y’know...” you tilt your neck, gesturing lightly, and he nods understandingly, a smile and twinkle in his eyes. “But he got really snappish with me, so I guess I thought maybe my blood was weird or something.”

“Did he really?” Seungcheol is unable to hold back his smile this time, and you furrow your eyebrows, so he explains further. “A lot of media nowadays take the vampire biting to a whole sexual level, and to a certain extent it can be true, depending on when you were turned, but for others, it’s common for feeding to be completely off limits to those we're interested in. As a matter of respect, you could say.”

“Are you saying that...”

“I’m not saying anything.” Seungcheol holds up his hands in an air of innocence. “But try asking him.”

You mull over the words as Seungcheol departs, and re-enter the room to meet gazes with Jeonghan, crimson liquid drifting up the straw from the plastic packet.

“I’m sorry I was rude. I know you were just trying to help.” He swallows, licking his lips, and you catch a flash of sharp ivory.

“It’s okay. Seungcheol actually told me something kinda interesting.”

“Like what?” He straightens, setting the blood aside carefully, and you make your decision.

“Nothing.”

Jeonghan narrows his eyes, but doesn’t push, and you’re torn between feeling relieved and disappointed.

It’s not brought up again, verbally between anyone or within your thoughts, until Halloween rolls around. It’s almost ironic, you think, the most haunting night of the year opening the chapter that haunted you the past year.

“Are you coming to Mingyu’s party?”

“Wasn’t invited.” You shrug, and Jeonghan laughs.

“Like that stops most people. But if you really care, he said I could bring a plus one and I choose you.” He points at you playfully, as if choosing a Pokemon. “It's a masquerade. He’s always had a liking for those things, he used to throw them all the time back in the days.”

You don’t know how long ago he’s referring to, but you still attempt to picture Jeonghan and Mingyu elaborately dressed and adorned with delicate masks.

“So what do you say?” He leans forwards, as if your answer was an intimate secret, and you tell it to him, never having much luck in refusing Jeonghan.

He tells you he’ll meet you there, yet it’s an hour into the celebrations, and you’ve nursed a few drinks, danced with some strangers, and haven’t seen any sign of him. It’s apparently not uncharacteristic of your roommate, as you converse with the host, Kim Mingyu, so you don’t worry too much.

You’ve forgotten to track the passing hours by the time he arrives, lost in the lull of the rise and fall of voices and faces unknown.

“There you are.”

You almost don’t recognize him, gold spun locks turned to raven black, in addition to the mask resting upon his features.

“I couldn’t find you, so I had a few drinks with the guys.”

“You changed your hair.” It’s a childlike, wondrous instinct, the way your hand comes to curve into his hair, and he lets you.

There’s something addictive in the way you touch him, uncaring to the swaying bodies on the dance floor, the pulse of the music thrumming through your veins.

“Let’s talk somewhere else.” He pulls you away, searching for a relatively quiet place, but the bathroom is taken up by a poor soul retching into the toilet, the bedrooms locked (Mingyu having enough sense with that at least, Jeonghan thinks), so he finds a closet instead.

“Why are we here?”

He doesn’t respond at first, the closet shades slanting horizontal lights, framing his face dangerously, like the edge of a knife.

“I see the way you look at me. Like you love me. I’ve been around enough to see it.” Jeonghan doesn’t let you speak, yet you’re not sure what you’d say if he allowed you to. “You said the stupid part everyone would hate you for in a horror movie was letting me stay. I think so too. But I think my own part is falling in love with you back.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No. Vampires can't get drunk.” Jeonghan huffs, and you cross your arms disbelievingly. “Why is it that whenever I tell you something serious, you brush me off?”

“Because you don’t have to be so dramatic and make it sound like sarcasm!”

“Well, I’m not trying to!” He glares exasperatedly. You both stand in silence, until you pout.

“You didn’t have to say that liking me was stupid.”

“It is stupid.” Jeonghan snorts. “I’m a vampire. You’re a human.”

“So?”

Jeonghan pauses, sighing.

“I didn’t say I don’t like stupid things. I did confess to you after all.”

“Hey!”

He grins, stepping closer to grab your hands, slender fingers wrapping around your wrists before sliding down, perfectly fitting into your own. You tug him closer, and he propels himself snugly against you, chest to chest, breath fanning upon the shell of your ear.

“Can I kiss you?”

You don’t answer, nodding breathlessly, and he leans forwards, smiling against your lips.

Jeonghan takes out a box of mementos for you to rummage through a week later, spreading out the photographs, journal entries, and other knick knacks across your mattress you both sat cross legged upon.

He mainly does it for your amusement and interest, answering the spare question or comment you’d make offhandedly, browsing through his phone, but when you burst into giggles at a seemingly whim, he straightens up.

“What’s so funny?” Jeonghan peers over your shoulder, and you hold up the photograph gently towards him.

It’s not exactly comedic material, but something about the photo tickles your throat with laughter; Jeonghan dressed pristinely, a solemn, almost bored, expression upon his fine features, styled hair without one strand out of place.

“What’s wrong with that picture?” He jutted his bottom lip out accusingly.

“Nothing.” You assure with a gleam of a smile, and he rests his head on your shoulder after some inward deliberation at the truthfulness of your answer. “I was just thinking about how lucky I am I guess.”

He doesn’t move from his position, but you can tell he’s listening intently so you continue with a breathless laugh.

“You’ve lived for so long, and I get to be a part of it. Maybe I’m taking a page out of your dramatics, but I dunno. It’s nice to find something unexpectedly that I didn’t know I was looking for in you, even if it was kind of weird. I guess Seungcheol was right.”

“That was really sweet, and I thought we were going somewhere, until you said the last part.” Jeonghan furrows his eyebrows, looking at you confusedly, and you chuckle, telling him about the time Seungcheol dropped off blood for him last minute.

“Bastard.” Jeonghan mutters, and with your fit of laughter, it’s passed over, Jeonghan’s unsaid words lingering on his tongue.

He sets them free when you fall asleep on his lap, midway through parsing the box’s contents, and he cleans it up with his best to not disrupt your sleep, talking in a soft voice.

“Everybody’s looking for something. I’m glad we found that something in each other, in this lifetime. ” He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you stir lightly, smiling gently.

“Me too.”

✞ taglist: @seijoh @soranihimawari @peachy-yabbay

#caratwritersclub #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan imagines #svt x reader #svt x you #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios

156 notes · View notes

mobiusxyearslater · 3 years

Photo

A/N: This takes place towards the beginning of Arc 1. Please enjoy!

~Mun @t-vict101

A/N: Please enjoy this tale containing original content from our AU. This is the first of many to come, so please be kind to the other mun who is working hard to produce this story as well as loads of other free content for this blog.

~Mun @spacepumpkinz

Riding through the city upon his beloved motorcycle, Shadow the hedgehog finds himself in a peculiar situation. Just last night he was finishing up an assignment for G.U.N. until something crashed landed in Station Square. What he found was just a bucket load of problems that frankly he rather not deal with. First, a weird orb broke open and something seeped into his body. Second, a weird tall bird floats right into his arms then proceeds to make him go on a wild goose chase. Lastly, he’s tied up in a situation that he never asked to be in and forced to go to that damn blue hedgehog for help.

He grumbles a bit at the state of his situation and feels a pair of hands shift on his waist. He peeks back at the bird who seems to be just looking down in complete shame at what has happened. She did run around the city like a manic with no regard for others’ safety so that’s something. Shadow huffs out and shifts his eyes down the road.

“...Have you calmed down…?” he said with a deep gruff.

The bird flinches at his voice and sinks in the seat further, “...Yes sir.”

Sir? He’s never heard that one before. “...Good. Now you’re going to tell me EVERYTHING else you know about this thing.”

The bird gulps and tightens her grip on his waist, “W-Well I told you everything I know… T-The notes I had were destroyed on impact. And the only thing I know is that if we don’t get that energy source out of you, you could die..”

Shadow scoffs and rolls his eyes, “Don’t worry about that. I’m the Ultimate Lifeform, I don’t perish that easily.”

The bird slowly tilts her head giving him a look, “....D… Did you really just say that?? I-I mean ultimate lifeform or not, YOU CAN STILL DIE!!”

He peeks back at her, narrowing his eyes, “...I said don’t worry about it..”

She feels a cold sweat from his stare and straights up her posture, “I-I’m just saying! That amount of energy can do a lot to your body if you exert yourself too much!”

He huffs and looks out ahead, “Well gee, someone didn’t think about that fact last night when she went crazy and I had to chase her down..!”

The bird flinches at his remark and looks back down in shame thinking about their initial meeting. She woke in his apartment and was surprised to see an actual talking hedgehog. Let alone one that could walk and have a weird fashion statement. But it was when it was revealed she transformed from a human to a falcon that really set her off. Admittedly she could’ve reacted better, jumping out of a window with a 5 story drop is not a proper reaction. And neither is running around the city in a full panic and almost causing a near-disastrous collision isn’t a proper reaction either.

She bit her lip a bit and fiddled with her fingers, “...I’m… really really sorry…. I-I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt.”

Shadow huffs brushing off her apology, “You’re lucky no one did. Honestly. Don’t you know how to look where you’re going! How stupid can you be--” He peeks back at her looking down shaking making him cut off his words. He lets out a deep sigh looking back onto the road. “....Do you have a name…?”

The bird gulps a bit and fiddles with her fingers, “...A-Ailani… Um…” she looks towards the back of his head, “W… What do I call you? Mr. Ultimate Lifeform..?”

Shadow gives her a look and huffs looking forward, “Shadow. Shadow the Hedgehog.”

Ailani nods and hums a bit, taking in his answer, “Okay… Shadow. W-Where are we going exactly.?”

“New Mobotropolis. There’s a group there called the Freedom Fighters that could help, in theory, without any annoying ulterior motives.” Shadow gives off a huff gripping on the handles, “Unfortunately there’s an annoying faker who’ll get a good laugh out of this for sure…”

Ailani snaps out of her trance once she hears the word “faker”, “...Faker? There isn’t like a clone army of you or something…. R-Right..”

There was a beat of silence before Shadow responded, “...Not anymore. At least I don’t think so.”

“YOU DON’T THINK SO?!” the bird screams out, “S-So this hedgehog is just like you??”

Shadow nods and huffs out an annoyed breath, “So much so that people often get us confused with one another somehow. He may look similar and have the same abilities as me but we couldn’t be any more opposites.”

All Ailani could do was sit back in her seat in utter shock at the information she just heard. There was a hedgehog that looked just like Shadow out there, so much so that they get mixed up. There was absolutely no doubt that Ailani would get them confused so there must be a way to tell them apart. She scratches her head a bit before bumping into her hair clip. An idea popping into her head, she perks up and takes out her hair clip then studies Shadow’s head a bit.

The hedgehog was still talking to himself about the annoying blue hedgehog, although Ailani tuned all of his rambling out. She leans over him and softly slips the hair clip into one of his quills. Shadow’s ear twitches a bit and he reaches up towards the hair clip.

“What did you--” he started to ask.

“It’s just my hair clip,” she chirps out “If you say there’s someone like you out there then it’s highly likely I’ll get you two confused. So this is just something that will help me.”

Shadow huffs a bit and grips on the handle shaking his head, “Whatever. If it helps you tell us apart then fi--”

Suddenly Shadow felt his heart practically beat out of his chest. It felt like it was going a million miles per second. He started to hunch forward slowly as a burning sensation grew within him. His bones felt like glass, his muscles like jello, and his vision started to blur. Despite his efforts to concentrate on the road, it came to no avail as the motorcycle started to swerve. Shadow tried to jerk it back to a steady path but it felt like he was being tugged back that forth between the road and the excruciating pain.

Ailani’s train of thought was interrupted by the sudden swerving and saw Shadow’s pain-filled form. “Oh, shi-- Are you okay!?” She asks reaching out to him.

He hits her hand away and growls out, “I’m FINE. This is nothi--” but instead of finishing his answer, he lets out a loud scream of pain clutching his chest and losing grip of the motorcycle’s handle.

The motorcycle swerved like a mad man causing Ailani to spring to action, reaching over Shadow and grabbing the handles. Her hands shake as she tries to bring the motorcycle to a stop but she was beginning to panic and lose her concentration, “UH! UH! I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT I’M DOING HERE!!”

Shadow tries to reach for the handles again but a surge of pain rushes through his chest causing him to scream in pain. He growls out, “USE THE FUCKING BREAKS!!”

Ailani peeks at him and nods looking around the motorcycle, “O-Okay! Breaks! Breaks… breaks… Where… are they…”

Growing more and more impatient, Shadow grips on her face and turns her face to the handle brakes, “.....Squeeze those… left foot… then rig--” Before he could finish his instructions the burning sensation grew worse as hunches in more.

“Okay! Okay! D-Don’t worry! I-I got this!” Ailani reassured as she takes a deep breath and squeezes on the brakes slowing down the motorcycle. She manages to maneuver it into an alley and brings it to a stop. “Okay! Whew! Did it! Ah-- Right! You need help!” She hops off the motorcycle and carefully lifts Shadow off the bike.

She trots over to a wall and softly lays Shadow against it as he wrenches in complete agony. Come on Ailani, think! There has to be something you can do to help! Ailani stands up and paces a bit as ideas rattle in her head. Okay so I have no magic, no tech, and I probably don’t have the strength to kick him out! She suddenly perks up and pats at her belt a bit. She takes out a small blue vial and studies it for a moment.

With not much time to think against Shadow’s cries of agony, Ailani decides it’s worth a shot. She kneels down to him and lifts up his chin. Carefully she dropped a single drip of whatever the vial contained into Shadow’s mouth. Shadow began to cough violently once the substance began to travel down his throat. It tasted horrid but the pain almost immediately subsided. He finally felt a sense of relief and sighed out, laying his head back on the wall.

Ailani lets out a deep sigh, relieved that the solution worked and looks at Shadow stroking his quills back, “...You okay, Shadow..?”

Shadow coughs a bit and looks at her. He sighs out and nods, “...I am.” He peeks at the blue vial, “...What is that stuff anyway..?”

Ailani perks up and looks at the vial, “Oh! This?” She holds it up a bit proudly, “It’s a remedy that I keep on hand in case of emergencies.”

Shadow nods a bit then quirks a brow at her, “How did you know it would work? I thought you didn’t know anything about this thing inside me..”

Ailani scratches her beak and nervously chuckles out, “I-I didn’t? Eheh. This is the most potent remedy I have so I figure it might do something.”

Shadow just sighs up holding his head suddenly feeling his eyelids drooping, “..Potent is an understatement…. I feel so… exhausted.”

“Oh!” she chirped up, “That must be the remedy’s side effects..” She hums a bit looking around before taking Shadow back into her arms, “Here, you rest. I’ll try to get us somewhere safe..”

Ailani carefully sets Shadow onto the motorcycle and sits down behind him cradling him with one arm. It takes her a good few minutes to get it started again and to start driving it. The pace was slow but at least they were on the move. Shadow feels at his chest a bit thinking about what just transpired. He felt pain before but nothing like this. He almost felt like he was… vulnerable. The motorcycle swerves a bit and Ailani keeps a tight grip on Shadow while trying to steady the bike.

Shadow huffs and peeks up at her, “...Do you know how to drive this thing..?”

Ailani sweats a bit and peeks down at him, “W-Well I’m doing good so far r-right?” As if the timing couldn’t be perfect enough for her to swerve a bit more.

Shadow would take over right there but pure exhaustion washed over him as he leaned his head back on Ailani’s chest, “...Whatever… Just… Don’t break it… I like this bike…” After stating his final request, he succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep.

Ailani peeks down at him and breathes out softly. An overwhelming sense of guilt washed over her as if she was the cause of Shadow’s pain. Looking ahead she grips onto the handle tighter, “...I promise… I’ll get you to New Mobotropolis…. No matter what it takes.” she says as they ride off down the city streets as the sun sets in the horizon.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic au #sonic #archie sonic #archie sonic the hedgehog #archie sonic comics #sonic fanart #sonic fandom #sonic fan character #sonic oc #sonic oc character #OC: Ailani #Ailani the Falcon #shadow #shadow the hedgehog #fan fic writing #fanfiction #writing

21 notes · View notes

angst-fairygodmother · 4 years

Note

Okay I’m currently moving and going through old trinkets and stuff to see what to get rid of and I just now really would love a Ben Hargreeves x reader fic super fluffy going through old things of yours or his and just generally being super cute 😭 ily!

A/N: So this is a Ben didn’t die AU because that was the only way I could think of for “cute” not “sad.” Also, as someone who just moved herself, good luck on your move darling, may it be as smooth and frustration free as possible. I hope you enjoy it! :) Word Count: 1702 Content Warnings: Major cheese-factor? But other than that nothing

“I’m glad we decided to get a place together,” you said, leaning against Ben’s shoulder, looking around your empty apartment.

Yours, the two of you. When you had started discussing moving in with one another, maybe a year into your relationship, you considered just adding him onto your lease, which still had several months left on it (he did not consider asking you to move in with him, because he’d been living with Vanya, and Klaus when he showed up and couldn’t wait to get out). But eventually, you two had settled on starting fresh, somewhere you had picked out together, a place for both of you to build your lives together. It had been a challenge at first, but in the end, you knew it would be worth the effort to create a home together instead of merely adopting one of you into the other’s preexistent reality.

“Me too,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple and smiling. “And I’ll be even more glad once we get some stuff in here.”

“Y/N, what about these?” Ben called to you, pulling out a battered black shoebox from the back of your closet. “You didn’t put this pair with the rest of your shoes?”

Confused what he was talking about, you set aside the plates you had been wrapping in newspaper and made your way to the bedroom.

“What are you talking ab—oh…” your eyes fell on the box in question and you felt a hot blush creep across your face and down your neck. “That’s um…”

Ben’s confusion at your discomfort only grew when the box rattled slightly, producing sounds of rustling paper rather than shoes.

“You can just ignore that. It’s just some old…I don’t even know why I kept…” you sighed in defeat as his curiosity got the better of him and he opened the box.

The box, which had laid buried in your closet for long that you’d nearly forgotten about it, was full of old newspaper and magazine clippings about the Umbrella Academy in their hay-day.

“I, uh, I can explain that?”

Ben laughed, grin wide and surprisingly nonjudgmental as he picked up the faded pages in gentle fingers, particularly when he came across one of a teen magazine quiz which said your soulmate was Diego and you had drawn frowning faces around it and marked it ‘WRONG’ in blue sharpie.

“Aw, babe, I had no idea you were such a fan,” he teased. “My brother will be so sad I stole his soulmate.”

“Yeah, I mean I guess I was into the whole Umbrella Academy thing as a kid…lots of people were…” you shrugged, hoping that your nonchalance would keep him from pressing further. “It’s nothing to make a big deal of.”

“Aw, hey, Y/N, I’m not trying to embarrass you,” he said, setting the box aside to come over and rest his hands on your shoulders. “I think it’s cute.”

You shoved his chest lightly, hearing the laughter in his voice. “Shut up.”

All of your things finally packed, you and Ben made your way to the apartment he shared with his siblings, which they had cleared out of for the day so you could have more space to work.

“Hey Ben,” you said, gesturing to an old-fashioned hatbox on one of his shelves. “I didn’t know you were a hat guy?”

You wished you could reach the box yourself so you could take him down and tease him properly for the contents the way he had had for your shoebox. Instead, you had to wait for him to come and be tall for you.

“Oh that. I took the box from the Academy. Although I think the hat was as likely to have been Pogo’s as it was Dad’s,” he explained.

“So if it’s not a hat, what’s in there?” you asked, practically vibrating with curiosity.

The box tucked under one arm, he pulled you closer with the other into a hug and pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek, before moving to sit in on the corner of his bed (piled high with the books which had been hiding this mystery box and which you were supposed to be packing at the moment), motioning for you to join him. Eagerly, you bounced across the small room to flop next to him on the floor, making him laugh as you nearly collapsed into his lap and he had to quickly lift the box above his head to keep you from crushing it.

“Well, it’s not quite the same as yours, but it turns out we were both hanging onto some things,” he explained almost shyly, carefully wiggling off the snug lid of the box.

“Oh really?” you couldn’t help the smirk that crept across your face.

The first thing he pulled out was a photobooth filmstrip. In the four little boxes were your smiling faces, your silly faces, and one where you had leaned over and kissed him, his eyes wide with shock, all in sepia, perfect moments frozen in time.

“That was our first date,” you said with surprise. “Our first official one anyway, unless you count you refusing to let go of my hand until you had escorted me safely out of the building when those lunatics decided a coffee shop was the best place to hold up for quick cash.”

“Well I couldn’t let them catch wind of priceless treasure that slipped through their fingers, and my siblings had everything under control.”

You rolled your eyes at his corniness, leaning your chin on his knee to see what else was in the box. It was full to the brim, practically overflowing with little bits of memorabilia from your time together: a newspaper clipping about the day you met, ticket stubs for concerts and movies, pictures you had taken together or of each other with his polaroid camera, love letters you’d sent each other and notes you’d left when one of you had to leave before the other woke or had something important coming up that you might need a little extra encouragement for. It was like your whole lives together so far were in that hat box and you felt your eyes welling up at the thought. It was so much better than your embarrassing childhood crush.

“You know, I thought you had only agreed to go to that carnival with me because you felt like you owed me for saving you or something,” he added softly as he leafed through.

You rolled your head to one side, cheek against his leg, so you could look up at him, sensing the insecurity in his voice.

“Ben, baby…” you sighed.

Even now, after all of this time, he still seemed to think that part of you was only there out of pity, seemed to expect you to flinch away in horror at his abilities. You knew that it had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the way he and his siblings were raised and exploited by Reginald Hargreeves, but still your heart ached every time you sensed him withdrawing into those dark places.

“I know, Y/N, you don’t have to say it,” he said, guessing at how your sentence was going to finish based on your repeated past conversations about it.

“I don’t think you do,” you lifted your head up, sitting back to better look him in the eye. “I was stunned that you even noticed me let alone asked me out, because you are incredible. And I don’t just mean the superhero thing, although that is pretty sweet,” you face scrunched up and you grinned at him before sobering. “If I was only in it for pity or for fame or because I owed you, I would have bailed a long time ago, not be getting an apartment with you. You’re stuck with me. Because I love you Ben Hargreeves.”

He set the box in his hands aside, pulling you close so that he could kiss you, tender and sweet and so rawly, desperately full of love that it threatened to overwhelm you. You folded your arms over his shoulders drawing him in even more. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, gently carding your fingers through his hair as he nuzzled his nose against yours.

“We should really get back to packing,” you said after sitting like that for a moment, more than a little regretful that you had to break the moment and return you both to reality.

“Wait, there’s one more thing I wanted to show you from the box,” he said sheepishly, pulling out a generic looking crumpled piece of lined paper.

“What’s this?” you asked, reaching for it.

Nervously, he handed it to you and you began to read. Almost immediately, your hand came up to cover your mouth as tears welled up in them. This wasn’t a letter, so much as the draft of a speech with words and lines and entire paragraphs crossed out, some scribbled over completely and others with a single mark through them and new words squeezed into the cramped space above them. Finally, at the bottom, circled in blue ink: Y/N, you’re incredible. Will you go out with me?

“Oh Ben,” you murmured, clutching the paper carefully to your chest, trying your hardest not to cry.

“I was so nervous to ask you out,” he explained, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “And Diego kept giving me shit about how you were way out of my league, which definitely didn’t help. But for some reason you said yes, and I thought I might die, I was so happy.”

“So I was thinking…” you said one night, wrapping your arms around Ben as he stood in the doorway of your new living room.

“Uh-oh,” he laughed, mirroring your hold.

“We have that big open wall-space over the sofa, right?”

He nodded, looking at you, eyebrows knit together in curiosity and confusion.

“We also have two boxes of stuff that would make a really nice collage…we could maybe put them there? Sort of a wall of memories?”

His eyes sparkled as he turned to you fully. “I love it.”

#listen with me you get angst or you get sap #I hope this meets what you were looking for #Not-dead Ben is hard to write for...#Ben Hargreeves x reader #The Umbrella Academy fic

146 notes · View notes

bellesque · 4 years

Text

Kneel (Loki x Reader)

Part 2: Say My Name (Part 1 here. AO3 link here)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings/Tags: SMUT to the high heavens, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Dominant Loki, Multiple Orgasms, Deep Throating, Cum Play, Exhibitionist Kink (like a little? a lot? somewhere in between?), Clone Sex (therefore threesome i guess), this is FILTHY do not say I didn’t warn you

A/N: Kneel gets a second part, the conclusion to the story! I did not plan on writing this and neither did I plan on it getting to this point of filth... but here we are, and I hope by the end of it y’all will still have a sliver of respect for me because I had to pause many a time and ask myself what the hell am I doing (hell even now I don’t don’t know what I’ve done)

Permanent Tag List: @shiningloki @imnotrevealingmyname @wolfsmom1 @hanyasnape @lukeyirwy @toozmanykids @rorybutnotgilmore @myraiswack @green-valkyrie (Tag List is currently open! If you’d like to be a part of it, let me know!)

WHEN LOKI ANSWERS the door, he’s a little surprised to be greeted by an angry Tony Stark.

He raises a single eyebrow. “May I help you?”

“Yeah, actually, you can.” Stark crosses his arms over his chest, jerking his chin towards the inside of the room. “Got notified of some structural damage, which was traced back to this room, which is…” He points with two fingers, almost like a finger gun. “Right there. Care to tell me about it?”

Loki shrugs. “What’s there to tell? It’s a crack.”

“How’d it get there?”

“None of your business.”

“‘None of your business’—what d’you mean, none of my business—what the hell, Reindeer Games? Move.” Tony makes to push past Loki, but the God of Mischief, your boyfriend, blocks the doorway with his body. “Let me in.”

“No.”

Tony blinks, incredulous. “Uh, are you forgetting who owns this building? Who has the power to kick you out—”

“I’ll take care of it,” Loki snaps, dismissively waving his hand.

Tony frowns. “You’re being way weirder than you usually are. And that’s saying something. But hey, if your magic can somehow fix that and pay for insurance. Be my guest. Anyway, I’m not here to ask how you are, I’m here to ask—how was the mission?”

“Fine,” Loki answers shortly, tone clipped and curt. “Goodbye.” He starts to close the door.

“Oh come on, we’re on the same team now, it’s not like I’m inviting you to dinner—”

Loki clamps a hand over your mouth, effectively cutting off your whimper.

“Goodbye, Stark,” the Loki at the door grits out with finality, closing it in his face. The illusion around you falls away in a shimmer of green, Loki’s clone dissipating while the real one nips at your neck fervently.

“Just couldn’t keep quiet for five minutes, hmm?” he rasps, fingers circling your clit mercilessly.

The moan you held in moments ago rips from your throat unbridled. You grind on his fingers, relishing the hard twitch of his erection pressing into your back. “Just—just had to fuck me while he was around, huh?” you say through short breaths.

“Don’t tell me that didn’t turn you on.” He slips his cock between your warm folds, a guttural groan floating into the air. “Knowing that it was just my illusion cloaking us… if I had faltered just a little, he would have seen all the things I do to you…”

“Didn’t peg as you as someone who likes an audience.”

“Would you like to find out?”

You let out another moan at the indecent imagery. Loki squeezes your breast, tweaking and rolling your nipple in his fingers as he pounds into you from behind. Your head falls uselessly against the pillow, eyes barely open.

He’s been fucking you like this for who knows how long. Your wrists are sore and chafed from the handcuffs, your cunt absolutely spent—but somehow you and Loki can’t seem to stop. As soon as you think you’re done, one of you says or does something that sets off the other.

And the cycle of fucking repeats itself.

He slaps your ass as he slams into you, shifting you completely on your stomach now and sinking his cock deeper inside you. Loki bites your shoulder when you whine into the pillow; the newest addition to the collection of marks along your shoulders and torso.

“That’s it,” he growls against your sweat-sheened skin. “Take my cock, like the greedy cock slut you are.”

“I-I—Loki”—heat coils inside you—“Loki, I ca—”

“You will.”

He lifts your hips a few inches off the bed, sliding his hand underneath you and pushing against your clit. You shudder, toes curling, as your body pulses with release.

“How many times have you cum already?” There’s a playful tone when he asks. “And you still have more in you. Oh, darling, you are full of surprises.” He flips you over, handcuff rattling on the bedframe. “Would you like to be full of my cum?”

“Fuck, please,” you whine, flexing your walls around his shaft. “How are you still so f—fucking hard, and-and—”

You’re cut off once again when Loki lifts your knees over his shoulders, bottoming out with every thrust, a sex-crazed expression across his face.

Not even five minutes since your last one, and you’re in the throes of orgasm again.

This time Loki cums too, cock twitching inside you as his release shoots out, your cunt milking out every last drop he has to give.

“Such a good, good girl.” He cards his fingers through your wild hair. Loki pulls out, his cock covered in slick, and he swipes against your pussy lips to push his cum inside you. “Keep it all in, hmm? Until tonight.”

He uncuffs you with a wave of his hand, and you flatten on the mattress. “How do you…” you pant, “How do you not look like you wanna pass out? I’m exhausted. But in a good way.”

Loki stands, pulling on a pair of black pants, grinning at you. “Magic.”

“Speaking of.” You push yourself up on your elbows, draping the white sheet over you. “The clone. Would it have been possible for Tony to walk through it?”

“If I willed it. However my clone did, in fact, take corporeal form.” Loki bends to brush his lips against your hairline. “Now, take your nap. I know you need it. I shall see you when you wake.”

“Where are you going?”

“As much as I hated his intrusion, I do have to meet with Stark about yesterday’s mission.”

You give him the best puppy eyes you can manage in your sleepy state. “I’ll miss you.”

His eyes light up, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “I won’t be long,” he says before he steps out of your room and closes the door.

“I’ll be right here,” his voice purrs at your side.

“What the f—” You scramble away from the sound on instinct, falling off the side of the bed in a tangle of sheets and limbs. Loki’s trademark laugh rings out, crisp and full. You snap upright to see his expression of lazy amusement on the other side of the bed.

His clone, or his real self?

“Surprised?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.

“A little more than that!” You untangle yourself from the mess, crawling onto the bed with the sheet wrapped around your naked form as you regard him cautiously. “Are you… are you real?”

He opens his arms to you: an invitation to touch him. Experimentally you bring up a finger and poke his chest. You’re met with the hard plane of muscle that tenses underneath his green tunic.

“Who walked out that door?” You glance between it and Loki. “I—what the fuck?”

“I did.”

“Then who are you?”

“I’m me.”

“I swear, Loki, I don’t need you to be a little shit right now—”

Loki laughs again, grasping your shoulders with his large hands and rubbing soothingly over the expanse of your skin. “So easily riled up. Where is the kitten who was so sated from sex and ready to sleep?”

“You freaked her out, and the claws came out,” you mumble.

He chuckles. “You need a nap. Come.”

Loki climbs into bed with you, setting your head on his chest. He strokes your hair, lulling you into a daze, but before sleep can overtake you, you mumble, “Clone or real Loki?”

“Does it matter if I feel real?”

“Clone then.” You’re not disgusted, or in shock. Just glad to have your question answered. And ultimately, his clone is still a part of him. Still him, just more magic than person.

You fall asleep to the foreign yet familiar fingers brushing your hair away from your forehead.

“Looks like you’re having fun with someone who isn’t me.”

Loki swaggers into the room, his hands in his pockets. You roll your eyes, tightening the hair tie around the clone’s raven hair. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, we both know he’s still technically you.”

You swing your body around to face him. “Why don’t you wear your hair like this?” You gesture to the bun his clone is currently looking at through the window’s reflection. “It looks good.”

You didn’t expect to wake up from your nap cradled protectively in Loki’s—well, his clone’s—arms. Seeing as dusk was beginning to sweep over the city and Loki still wasn’t back, you decided to while your time with him. You knew Loki’s attention would be split too much if you engaged in more than endearing quips, so you settled for playing with the clone’s hair. So far, you’ve brushed it, braided it multiple times, and put it into a bun.

“Does it?” Loki sits at the edge of the mattress, cupping a hand behind your neck to pull you in for a kiss. He moves down to pepper kisses around your throat, and you melt into his touch like butter in a pan.

“Yeah,” you breathe, “you’re pretty handsy—handsome. I mean handsome.”

“I don’t think it suits me with this tunic on,” the clone interrupts from the window, causing you to pull away reluctantly from Loki. “Thoughts?”

You exhale as you raise your eyes to the ceiling, annoyance creeping up your neck. Loki brushes the inside of your wrist. You look at him, an impish grin on his face.

“Does he really have to be here?” you sigh.

“Darling, you know it’s just me.”

“So why’d you interrupt us? Him? You—ugh, you know what I mean!”

Loki chuckles at your growing confusion and waves his hand. “There. Gone.”

You turn around, and sure enough, there is nothing but the large window overlooking the city skyline.

“Thank you.” You briefly admire the hues of sunset that paint the city in a warm glow. “Look at that view. Beautiful,” you comment absently. Turning your head back to Loki, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and give him the sultriest bedroom eyes you can muster. “Now, where were we?”

You lean forward to kiss him, only he responds by hoisting you up over his shoulder.

“Hey!”

He walks around the bed and to the farther end of the room, palming your ass all the while, and then sets you down in front of the window. Facing the horizon. Standing behind you, his breath tickling your neck, Loki slides down the strap of your bra ever so slowly.

Your breathing immediately hitches, your brain freezing up. “What are—Loki, what are you doing?”

One kiss, then two; his hands sensually glide over your stomach, tracing his fingers over your skin and making you shiver.

“Enjoying the view,” he says, voice low and deep. “Such a beautiful sunset, isn’t it?”

He eases your breasts out of the confines of your bra, and your feet shuffle away from the window, your back bumping into his chest. Loki stands his ground, unyielding—and he takes a step forward, pushing you closer to the window.

Your thoughts are frayed at the edges as he cups one breast in his palm, holding and squeezing until he lets go, the imprint of his hand blooming pinkish across your skin.

“Someone might see,” you whisper hoarsely.

“Look down at the street, love.”

Loki’s voice is silk and sin. He nibbles at your ear, his hand roving to the other breast. Your eyes flit down to the sparse crowds streaming along the sidewalk. “Do you think they would think to look up this tower, to this very room, to find a couple in the throes of pleasure?”

His sinful hands smooth down over your waist, pushing your shorts along with your underwear to the floor and exposing your slick center to the coolness from the air conditioner. You whimper shakily.

“The other,” you gasp when his thick, long finger slides into your cunt without much friction, “the other high rise buildings.”

“Too caught up in their own lives. Self-centered creatures, humans.” He angles your head so it falls against his shoulder, giving him clear access to your neck. He sucks your skin into his mouth in time with the pump of his fingers.

Never in your wildest fantasies did you dream that Loki would fuck or finger you on a surface that wasn’t a bed. Loki was your boyfriend who held himself back—up until 12 hours ago.

Now he’s your boyfriend who slips in and out of you, right in front of a floor-length window, seemingly uncaring about the possibility of being seen.

You arch your back when he hits your G-spot, your hands flying to the side of your head to the press against the glass. The heat from your body fogs it up and blurs the lights that begin to illuminate the dimming city.

He pulls his fingers out of you when you start panting in time with each pump of his fingers, replacing it with his cock. You moan, eyes slipping closed, as your feet spread further apart.

Loki’s fingers dig into your hips, occasionally roaming north to scratch your breasts lightly. He’s grunting into your ear, softly, and each sound makes your floor muscles clench harder and harder around his thick shaft.

And without warning, he growls, muttering, “Your pussy—so tight—” and fucking rams into you, each thrust purposeful and possessive and powerful. Your torso is pressed against the window now, mouth hanging open as he lifts your feet off the floor and pistons into you.

Sweat and mist condense on the glass, your face scrunching up in pleasure as you climb steadily to orgasm.

“Say my name,” he growls, clawing a hand into your ass and causing a fresh spasm of arousal to erupt in your core.

“Loki,” you rasp out obediently.

“Louder!”

“Loki—i! Ah, shit, right there—”

He roughly shoves his finger between your folds, rubbing your clit so harshly you’re seeing stars behind your eyes that explode when you do with release not long after.

Loki pulls out of you rather unceremoniously, hooking an arm around your waist and taking huge strides until he sits at the bed and shoves you to the floor between his legs.

Oh, his fat fucking cock.

“You know what to do, love.” He caresses your cheek and traces your jawline from chin to ear—and then he yanks your head towards his throbbing cock.

You eagerly open your mouth, taking in as much of his length into your mouth in one go, and your gag reflex almost kicks in. Loki strokes your hair, muttering affirmations, and soon you’re hollowing your cheeks, sucking and slurping, the most obscene sounds filling the room.

Choking on his cock is… it’s always been one of your deeper fantasies, you can admit that now, and to actually be experiencing it has your center slick with arousal once more. He hasn’t cum yet, and you’re not sure if you want it in your mouth or in your cunt.

You look up at Loki and feel a surge of pride. His face is contorted with pleasure, just as it was earlier today when you sucked him off; his eyes are shut tight, his lips parted and his teeth slightly bared. You fondle his balls, keeping your eyes on him, and Loki hisses, pushing you to take even more of his cock. Tears form at the corner of your eyes but you happily oblige. The head of his cock hits the back of your throat as you slacken your jaw and bob quickly on him.

He tightens around your hair, pushing you back, and Loki’s cum shoots out in thick, heavy pulses, splattering over your chest and face.

“Good girl,” he husks weakly, lust-ridden eyes drinking in the sight of you on your knees and coated in his cum. He swipes his thumb over your chin, collecting the evidence of his release on the side of his finger, and shoves his thumb past your lips and into your mouth.

You keep your eyes locked with his, swirling your tongue around the pad of his finger, his bitter seed sliding down your throat as you suck on his thumb.

“Fuck,” he whispers, eyes blown dark with desire. “Bed. Now. I need to taste you.”

You rise with shaky knees and Loki practically pounces you, pinning you to the bed as he licks into your mouth as if he’s a man starved. He nips at your lips, and then he bites—you let out a wanton moan, and Loki spreads your legs apart and settles between them.

All your simple, short-circuited mind can focus on is the trail of fire he’s leaving with his lips. He presses open-mouthed, sloppy kisses over your chest, raking his teeth over your sensitive nipples. He kisses down the center of your stomach, each kiss wetter and wetter until he hovers over your swollen lips.

“Look at me,” he commands.

You’re struggling to keep your eyes open, but you manage. Loki gives you a dirty, devilish look, and then he dives into your folds, his tongue massaging your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your head falls when you moan, eyes rolling back.

“Eyes on me!” Loki orders against your cunt, the vibration of his voice and lips making you whimper at the stimulation.

His nose presses firmly against your soft mound, his tongue pushing up against your heated walls, and oh, his fucking eyes. Intense, burning, full of passion and desire. You could probably cum just from the way he looks at you.

Your hips gyrate as he licks up and down your slit teasingly for a few seconds before dipping back into your wet cavern; his mouth travels north to latch onto your clit and suck harshly. And he repeats it—until you’re a whining, writhing mess, ass pressed into the mattress.

“Loki,” you gasp out, “Loki, more—”

“More?” He gives your cunt a loud, wet kiss. “On your knees, pet.”

You barely have to move since Loki’s flipping you over on the mattress himself, lifting your hips to his shoulders. Your knees bump against his hard back muscles and oh fuck—his wicked tongue licks up sensitive spots you didn’t know you had.

You push up on your elbows, bucking against his face, acting purely on the carnal need to get to orgasm. Loki slaps your ass, kneads it; the mattress soaks up your muffled whimper.

“Suck,” he instructs into your pussy.

Your brow furrows, and you lift your head. Did you hear him right? “Suck wh—”

In front of you is him. Loki. His cock.

But he’s still feasting on your pussy, which means…

Loki pushes your body towards his clone without warning, and your lips crash against the wet slit of the cock in front of you. His cock.

“You said you wanted more, did you not?” Loki thumb flicks against your clit. “This is more.”

The clone cradles your head in his hands, a slow and sexy smirk spreading over his lips, and guides your wanting mouth onto his waiting cock.

You’ve never been more turned on in your life.

The clone is Loki, your lust-filled mind says, so whatever you do to him, Loki will feel. As your boyfriend eats you out into oblivion, you intend to do the same. You swirl your tongue around his shaft, sucking sensually and humming, trying to push him closer and closer to orgasm.

Loki growls against you and he delivers one mind-numbing suction on your clit. He pulls out an orgasm from you just like that, and your lower limbs shake and convulse from the intensity of it.

You’re kneeling on the bed while you continue to suck him off, and Loki positions the head of his cock at your dripping slit.

“Good girl, sucking my cock like that.” Loki pulls your hair away from your face as you deepthroat him once more. “Your mouth is marvelous, taking in all of me like that. Your pussy”—he thrusts into you with a loud groan, and you’re hit with a vision of his eyes rolling back in pleasure—“is just as exquisite.”

All you can let out is a weak gurgle on his cock. He grinds into your pussy, grasping your hips tightly. “Ready, sweet?”

You pause to take a breath, entire body thrumming with pleasure, and gasp, “Yes, Loki, fucking—fuck me.”

He slides out of you and you wrap your lips around the head of the clone’s cock—and they bury their cocks down to the hilt, and your world shatters into fragments of ecstasy.

You’re bucking against both of them in wild abandon, feeling like you’ll explode with pleasure at any given moment; Loki, the real one, fondles your breasts and your clit as he thrusts into you, his clone tugging and stroking your hair, guiding your head.

You’ve lost track of how many tiny, almost preparatory orgasms you’ve had; your body is searing hot, delirious ecstasy coursing through your veins. You cum, and you cum again, and both Lokis speed up in their hard thrusts until the warm, hot seed coats the walls of your mouth and cunt.

The clone eases out of your mouth, whispering how good you are, and because you can barely keep your eyes open you don’t see when he shimmers away.

Loki kisses your shoulder gently; a loving gesture. “How was that, pet?” He pulls you onto your back.

“You should rail me like that more often.”

Loki laughs, kissing you on the lips. “Oh, trust me, love. There will be plenty. But I think we’ve defiled this Tower more than we should have.”

“Home?” you mumble, twisting to snuggle into his chest. “After like. Five minutes of this.”

He holds you like this, in sated serenity—until he whispers something dirty in your ear that makes you bolt up for the bathroom.

You can’t wait to feel the soreness between your legs tomorrow.

— — —

“You two be safe,” Tony calls from the Tower lobby. “And thanks for helping out on the mission, Reindeer Games.”

Loki shakes his head, muttering, so you step in. “Thanks for letting us stay for two nights. Really, that’s so kind of you.”

“Yeah, well, member perks.” He gives Loki a pointed look. “Don’t make me regret it.”

“Yes, Stark,” Loki says, rolling his eyes.

Tony opens the cab door for the pair of you. “See you soon then.”

As the cab drives away to transport you to your apartment, Tony heads back into the Tower. He was only meant to send you off and head right back upstairs to his office—but he remembers the crack in Loki’s room. Yeah, he should definitely check that out. Make sure the bastard fixed it, or at least see how bad the damage is if he didn’t.

When the door opens and he steps inside, his face contorts at the sight. Cracks, multiple of them, decorate the walls. And wh—his eyes snap to the bed. Is the bedframe crumpled? But the metals he used, they’re—

There’s even a hairline crack on the window.

“Loki fucking Laufeyson!”

246 notes · View notes

dearlazerbunny · 4 years

Text

Let it Go (Ch. 1 of ?)

Pairings: platonic avengers team x reader, potential background loki x reader

Words: 1800

Genre/Ratings: -WARNINGS- there will be an (unsuccessful) suicide attempt by reader- chapter will be explicitly marked in advance. Drug (pills) and alcohol abuse, lots of negativity and self loathing. There will be an arc, but said arc is going to start in the eleventh circle of hell and inch up from there.

Summary: *not far enough into this one to give an accurate summary, so this’ll have to be updated eventually. enjoy for now!*

If I see another ad for Frozen, I might go homicidal.

I pass at least five of them as I work through rush-hour Manhattan at a snail’s pace. Smash Hit! Instant Classic! #1 Movie in the World! Awesome. Fantastic. Happy for you, Disney. Now please, dear god, get it the fuck out of my face.

I jerk away from narrowly shoulder-checking a businessman hustling down the sidewalk, speaking rapid-fire into the phone glued to his ear. It’s like a very, very fucked up dream; everyone in the world is in on the joke, and I just didn’t get the invite. Maybe they were spying on me. Sure, it could’ve been inspired by a fairytale, but who knows? I could sue. Demand fifty percent of the profits for copyright infringement. That’d be more than enough to set me up with a cabin in Alaska, somewhere all I’d have to worry about is making friends with the polar bears.

On the subway, I notice someone has Let it Go blaring from their earbuds. No less than three little girls are wearing something blue and covered in glitter. One has a cheap blonde plait clipped into her hair, accented by a snowflake charm dangling from the end. I suppress the urge to rip it off her head.

It isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, I want to say. It’s not Disney-dreamy like the mouse has made it out to be, living in a palace and making magical snowmen and singing power ballads about self-acceptance and overcoming your demons. In the real world, you quell those demons with a fistful of benzodiazepines, because if you don’t, something like a car alarm or a slammed door will make spikes of ice splinter through the floor around you. It’s constantly wearing three hoodies at a time, so that way if a stranger on the seat next to you brushes your arm, they don’t immediately get third-degree frostbite. It’s getting a papercut and watching the blood freeze on the tip of your finger, then melt back to liquid when you break it off and toss it away. It’s getting hospitalized when an inner-city charity doctor takes your temperature before you can object and your body temperature is barely higher than freezing, so they pump you full of warm saline and cover you in foil blankets and all that heat makes you sick, so you have to rip the IV out of your arm and walk yourself back to your apartment in your hospital gown while dodging orderlies and strange looks from passerby at 2 AM.

The kid and her parents get off at the next stop. The subway clicks along. I try to make myself smaller as the car fills up with more people.

Maybe if they’d had Xanax in Arendelle, Elsa wouldn’t have had to deal with all that “conceal, don’t feel” bullshit. She wouldn’t be able to feel anything with all the pills and booze she’d be mainlining. Take it from me, babe, it’s a lot easier to drug those demons away. Much more effective than a song.

Something in me feels a weird flare of pride for handling this… whatever the hell it is better than a fictional cartoon princess. Then I want to laugh, because goddamn, my life is pathetic.

My meeting spot is in a back alley near Bryant Park. Some NYU kid is pawning his Klonopin for party cash, I guess. I think if you’re rich enough to be a frat boy at NYU you probably don’t need the extra fifty from your prescriptions, but whatever. I don’t have a ton of other avenues at this point.

I scan the neon bottle, then shake it open and count the pills inside. “These are only a half milligram? Fifteen.”

“Dude, we said forty.”

“Yeah, for a milligram pill. These will barely last me a week.”

“Twenty.”

“Fine.”

I don’t think the universe agrees with my choices.

The sky splits open with a shriek that balances the world on the edge of a knife. One heartbeat. Two. He and I both look up at the clear blue, unsure. Between the skyline, I see something- somethings- begin pouring from a split in the universe, ugly and black and hungry.

I wrench the bottle from the kid’s hands and run.

Run, run, run, don’t look up, don’t look back, oh jesus what the FUCK IS THIS- Midtown is a nightmare. Not from Friday traffic this time. People are scrambling, screaming and crying, trying to flee the scene. An entire side of a building gets shaved off and falls to the ground like an iceberg. A gas line broke somewhere because everything is hazy with fumes and starts shimmering rainbow colors. I round a corner, cursing and trying to keep my ratty converse on my feet as I dodge rubble and ash- don’t look up don’t look up don’t look up. I can see my breath starting to crystallize around me as my anxiety spikes, and I try to force it down. Don’t think about it. Now is so not the time for that.

In the middle of the street, six brightly clad superheroes stand with grim but determined looks on their faces. There’s Tony Stark in his mechanical suit, Captain America brandishing his shield. The star stands out like a beacon in the smoke. Cool, coolcoolcool, they’ve got this, right? They’ve totally got this. Everything is going to be fine. Everything is going to befineohholyshitthat’sabigalien-

I try to use an overturned car as cover. Dart to one, breathe, press my back to steel and try to shake my body back from shock, wait for a moment of silence between the chaos- run to the next pile of rubble. My footprints are outlined in frost on the cracked pavement, clean white against the ash raining from the sky. As I slam myself up against another car, heaving, I have a prime few of Captain-freaking-America bashing three ugly aliens in the face with his shield, battering them to the ground. He stops for a moment to flex his fingers, wipe some of the grime from his face.

He doesn’t see the alien rushing him from behind, mouth open and yawning in some sort of hideous grin, poised to shove a glowing blue gun against the Captain’s muscly back.

I don’t think. My feet move without my telling them to. I can taste the ash as I dart to the middle of the street, as close as I dare. The air around me is impossibly frigid. I’m not controlling anything at this point, but I can deal with that later. Hopefully.

“DUCK!” I scream as loud as I possibly can over the sound of metal and roaring monsters.

His eyes snap up to meet mine. He heard me, somehow, and then he actually heeds a random girl standing amidst the carnage and hits the deck so fast I can hear the whiplash. It’s hot enough to make my skin boil, but if I stretch my hand out and pull, I can feel something begin to crystallize in my waiting palm-

Fissures crack open in the concrete beneath me. In my hand, a thin lance of ice extends to a deadly point, too weighty for its slim frame, and while I should have all the grace and skill of an alcoholic drug addict, my aim is good enough that the alien now has an unforgiving pole of ice sticking through its breastbone. Frost creeps from the hole in its chest, discoloring its sickly black armor to a grey tint. For a moment, it's suspended in time, unmoving- then gravity takes hold and with one last nightmarish shriek it crumples to the ground in a heap.

Huh. Whaddya know. I flex my fingers, breathing hard. Take that, Elsa. Screw the power of love, I just single-handedly saved a national icon.

Said icon is picking himself up off the ground, a new layer of dust coating the front of his uniform. He looks behind him, at the ugly corpse and the ice that inexplicably hasn’t started to melt in the city’s heat. Then his eyes are on me, hard and curious.

Oh. Fuck.

Instinctively, I pull my hood up further over my head, hopefully obscuring more of my face than before. What did he see? Could he memorize my face? He knows I’m a freak show, that’s for sure. Fuck. My brain kicks in and I run, skidding over broken pavement and letting the sheer terror of a crumbling New York fuel my steps. Either we’ll all be dead by the end of this, or the strange girl with ice coming from her hands will be little more than a hazy memory after all this is said and done. I hope. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it- cold prickles on the back of my neck and pushes me back towards being just another face in the crowd.

There are over a dozen police blockades to try and control the battlefield, and between them and the rubble raining from the heavens, it takes me what feels like hours to crawl back to my underside of the city. It’s punctuated by the grinding of metal and shattering of glass and sickening cracks of lightning from Midtown, making me flinch and wring my hands deep into my sweatshirts to keep them busy with something other than frosting the ground over. Don’t think about it.

I shove my shoulder into the door, forcing it open, then close it the same way from the opposite side. I flick the locks closed, secure the ball and chains. Each one is encased in frost by the time I’m done, and the doorjamb is clogged with ice. I’m suddenly irrationally thankful that there’s only one window in the apartment. It’s a stupid comfort- those things were leveling skyscrapers, a ratty building like this would be flattened in an instant-

I wrench open the nearest drawer, sending the contents rolling. Bottles clack against each other; pills rattling against the plastic. It’s the most comforting thing I’ve heard all day. I pull one out at random, pop the lid, down it dry. In the back of my mind, the large green monster roars. I shudder and swallow another, this time chasing it with swigs from the obscenely large bottle of booze on the desk. It burns all the way down in the best way, chasing the little orange tablets and promising the sweet release of nothing.

That should last a day. Maybe more. I fall into the bed, already feeling the combo tug at my system, making me heavy and slow. Maybe Manhattan will still be standing when I wake up. Or better yet, Manhattan will still be standing, but I won’t. I’ve never been that lucky, but it never hurts to hope.

#marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #avengers fic #avengers fanfiction #avengers x y/n #avengers x oc #loki x reader #reader insert #Steve Rogers #natasha romanov #tony stark #bruce banner #Thor Odinson #clint barton #Loki Laufeyson #angst #avengers x reader

49 notes · View notes

huntergatherercreator · 4 years

Text

The Takedown | Part Eleven

Pairing: Mob!Tom Holland x Detective Reader

Summary: NYC has a new drug lord determined to wipe out any and all competition in order to grow his empire. You're going undercover to stop him.

Warnings: Mentions of weapons, swearing, violence, drugs

Notes: In all of my plotting for this fic I’d never planned on writing a lot from Tom’s POV but I’ve really got into it. I hope everyone’s enjoying mob Tom as much as I am!

Part 11 – 1,547 words

Toms POV

It had been six days. Six fucking days and no retaliation from Rivera. In any other situation he’d take this to mean he’d won but he knew Rivera wouldn’t back down. Despite the warning Tom had dropped off at the docks Rivera would have a plan of attack. He always did. He pressed his forehead against his linked fingers. Thumbs rubbing at his temples he inhaled deeply trying to rein in his thoughts. Maybe driving him to madness waiting for the guillotine to drop was part of Rivera’s tactics. Get him too caught up by the question of ‘when’ that he missed the ‘how’.

The grating buzz of the intercom had his jaw clenching. He’d been in meetings all day with his men and not one of them had anything useful to say. As his assistant let him know his next appointment had arrived he was tempted to tell them to fuck off. He knew better though. He had to lead by example. Act as if the threat wasn’t a worry in front of his men otherwise they’d spiral. Settling back in his chair he adjusted his suit jacket as the door opened and Joe entered accompanied by a heavily tattooed runner. It took him a second to pull up the name. Tate, he realised with a slow sinking in his gut. Finding a replacement for Arnold was yet another thing he had to fix.

Glancing between his man and the newcomer he took in their shared unease as they perched in the armchairs before his desk.

“This is about her isn’t it?” he realised with growing anticipation. If his theory was right then she could be the key to toppling Rivera off his gunmetal throne. Joe nodded but wouldn’t make eye contact.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

“I’m sorry, boss. I couldn’t get anything on her, but-“

He stood swiftly, his chair rattling as it hit the wall. Hands gripping the edge of the desk he towered over them. “How is that possible? Is she working with Rivera or not?”

“I don’t know, boss. It’s like she knew she was being followed, she kept throwing me off her trail.”

“Did she know she was being followed, Joe?” He didn’t believe his best man would be obvious enough to get caught. He never had before, but it was the only explanation for the failure he could think of.

“No. I’m sure of it. I’ve had others track her at different points around the city and they’ve all lost sight of her too,” Joe insisted, squirming under Holland’s dark stare.

“What about her background?”

“Came up clean.”

“Too clean?”

Joe shook his head. “She’s been picked up a few times, mostly for theft, once for dealing but was released. That was when she was younger. If she’s been dealing since then she’s kept her head down. Which might explain why she’s so good at covering her tracks.” Tom threw him a pointed look.

“Don’t make excuses. You fucked up, Joe. One woman. That’s all I asked. One.” He was letting his temper get the better of him but he didn’t care. Now that his last lifeline had evaporated he was back to square one. Hand raking through his hair he closed his eyes for a brief second.

“Why is he here? What else has gone fucking wrong?” he motioned to Tate who’d sat unmoving through their conversation. Joe’s hesitation had his fists clenching. Without a word Tate lifted the backpack he’d been carrying and slid it onto the desk.

“She gave it to me. It’s the pay-out for her stash.”

Unzipping the bag roughly he balked at the cash within. Arnold had been an incompetent prick giving her more than one person’s lot to sell, but given the bundles before him she’d somehow pulled it off.

“Told me to give you a message, too. Says this is what you’re due, and she’s keeping the profit.”

Tom stilled. His skin prickled. Who the fuck did she think she was?

“And you did nothing to get the rest?” he snarled. His heart rate was picking up as adrenaline seeped in.

“Figured you’d prefer to get the cash back personally,” Tate motioned to the front of the bag where a slip of paper was tucked. “Found her address going through Sam’s shit.”

Some of the tension in his shoulders lifted. It had been a while since he’d dealt with anything like this himself. Unbidden an image of the last time he’d seen her flashed behind his eyes. She’d stared down the barrel of his gun without even a flicker of fear. He couldn’t wait to change that.

“I want a car ready in ten minutes.”

****

Detective POV

The hot water of the shower helped flush away the tiredness clinging to my bones. It was just after five in the evening and even with a full day of recuperating I was still drained. After giving Zoey and the girls their dues she’d tipped me off about a rave happening in Hell’s Kitchen. It had been risky given that was Rivera’s primary territory but a large portion of the drugs that had been left had been sold. What little was left got pushed on the streets and then I’d summoned Tate to take Holland what he was due.

Given the derisive smirk on Tate’s face he’d pass my message along, if only to be the one sent back to deal out my punishment. I tried to picture how Holland would react to the news but couldn’t get past the darkness of his eyes. A shiver snaked up my spine as my pulse spiked. I shook my head sharply to clear the thoughts threatening to creep in, turning up the heat as I did to chase away the chill.

Holland is a mobster. He’s a killer. He’s dangerous. I’d found myself repeating the mantra more and more since the Cove. Zoey had questioned me about it again too. Still probing about how I was dealing with the case, angling towards me stepping back again. I’d shut her down quickly. This was my case. I’d know when things went too far. Now, after clearing the literal weight off my back in the form of the drug filled backpack, I’d been able to find a way to reel Holland back in.

Wrapping myself in a towel I padded towards the kitchenette to grab a cup of coffee. Halfway towards the machine a thin slash of light cut across the floor. The front door was cracked open. It was undamaged, meaning someone had picked their way in. A quick glance around the small apartment and I couldn’t see anything else out of place. There was no sign of an intruder but my skin prickled. Tightening the towel I gently clicked the door closed. Reaching into the umbrella stand I picked out one of the many guns I’d stashed around after Arnolds visit. Double checking the clip as quietly as I could I moved back towards the only unchecked area.

The door was closed, how I’d left it, but the tingling of my scalp warned me to be on high alert. I pressed against the wall, my fingers resting lightly on the door handle. The roaring of blood in my ears made it impossible to tell if I could hear movement or if it was my adrenaline fuelled imagination. I took a slow breath and on the exhale threw the door open. A moment of pause to draw out any gun fire and then I swung into the room, weapon raised.

I froze unable to process the situation that greeted me. Holland was sat on the corner of the bed, his gun resting against his thigh, the other toying with the underwear I’d left out. Waves of heat warmed my cheeks as he stroked the lace without expression.

“Did you buy these with my money?” His even tone had my breath catching. I’d confronted him before, I’d seen him angry. I’d seen him humiliated. This was different. His curls were in disarray as if he’d been running his hands through them repeatedly. His shirt unbuttoned at the top, tie loose around his neck. I knew pushing him wouldn’t end well. I kept my mouth shut.

“How about this?” Picking up the gun I’d had hidden in my bedside cabinet he turned it over in his hand as if appraising it.

Excruciatingly slow his gaze turned from the items on the bed to where I stood still aiming at him in the doorway. Leaning back on his free hand those dark eyes appraised me. Shame flared as a new type of heat spread. I bit the inside of my cheek hoping the surge of pain would douse it before he noticed but I was too slow. He’d zeroed in on the change of my breathing and the new flush I could feel coating my neck. He shoved off from the bed. My trigger finger tensed as he stalked towards me. My mind swam with the mantra. Holland is a mobster. He grabbed my wrist, slamming it back against the door frame. He’s a killer. Pain shot through my arm and the gun clattered to the floor as my body reflexively let it go. He’s dangerous. His strong fingers enclosed my throat.

------

Taglist:

@spideylovin @lukesbabylon @panicattheeverywherekid @keep-bears-wild @unbelievableholland @tomholland-mcu @whattheheckparker @stargazerholland @gorillaglue23 @marvelpeters

Part 12!

#mob!tom #mob!tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland

77 notes · View notes

sherrybaby14 · 4 years

Text

Fever

Summary: You are sick. Steve’s your boyfriend and wants to help your fever break.

Warnings: Smut, flu-like-illness, I am going to label this Non Con (PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THIS OFFENDS YOU)

Pairing: Steve x Reader

A/N: I have been sick for a week (not like I haven’t been bitching about it non stop) So this is super self indulgent.

Words: 2500

It started with a tickle in the back of your throat. You tried to ignore it, but an hour later you found yourself coughing. Maybe it was allergies. Time ticked away at your desk, you started to get cold. Too cold. You touched your forehead. The temperatures didn’t match.

You were sick. There was no more denying it. Your boss and coworkers would understand, they weren’t the ones you were concerned about.

There was a reason illness was contagious. It kept people away and away they should stay. You winced thinking about the last time you were sick. Steve was giddy to take care of you. At first you thought it was sweet, counted yourself lucky your boyfriend’s enhancements included an immune system. But you had been wrong. So wrong.

With a shaky hand you pulled out your cellphone and typed a quick text:

I have to work late. Sorry. Can’t hang out tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow.

Before you could even put the thing away the typing bubble appeared.

Why are you texting? You know I like phone calls.

You didn’t get a chance to type back before his name appeared on your screen. You took a deep breath and let out a coughing fit. Keep it together. You planted a fake smile on your face and answered.

“Sorry baby. We’re just swamped.” You tapped at the keys on your computer. “If my boss catches me on the phone he’s going to freak out.”

“What’s wrong?” Steve’s voice was stern. “Your boss never cares. Is he giving you a hard time? Do I need to come down there?”

“Steve we’ve talked about this. You can’t always be my hero. I can handle some stuff on my own.” The tickle and urge to cough came back, you tried to bite it down.

“And we have talked about you quitting that dumb job and letting me take care of you.” Steve’s words were biting. “Really, you’re not even happy there. You could write or paint or work on whatever…”

You tried to cover the phone, but the cough exploded right in the middle of Steve’s chase your passions speech. You pressed your eyes shut and hoped he didn’t hear. Once you calmed down you realized another spat was coming.

“We’ll talk about this tommorrow. I have to go. Bye. I love you.” You hit end and then started coughing into your sleeve, letting it all out.

“You look like shit.” Your boss was in front of your desk. “Go home. Take tomorrow off too, the next day even. Don’t come back until you’re at one hundred percent.”

You glared at your boss with an open mouth and dizzy head. Why did he have to be so understanding? Why couldn’t he demand you back the next day?

But he was right. You nodded and grabbed your purse, shutting down your computer.

“Feel better.” He waved as you left the office.

The entire time all you could think was fuck, fuck fuck.

When you got to your apartment the fever and aches had set in. The cough strangely enough had disappeared, or at least your other ailments hurt enough that you weren’t paying attention.

Maybe a train ride to your parents was worth it. You could hide out there for the week. Your mom could take care of you like a normal person. Lots of sleep and binge watching. Chugging seven-up and a random glass of Hawaiian Punch. Even a hot toddy or two to help you sleep.

Yes. Steve would never try anything around your parents. It was a safe space for you to recover like a normal person. That was the ticket.

The idea was so promising you crawled into your bed thinking about it, a smile on your face. The perfect solution, and you would be able to rest. Rest. Maybe closing your eyes for a bit wouldn’t hurt. You would need your strength for the train ride of course. You pulled the comforter over yourself, promising you would close your eyes for five minutes tops.

The bed dipped behind you. You let out a groan and hugged the pillow tighter. You were equal parts too hot and too cold. It felt like your head wasn’t even part of your body.

A hand touched your shoulder and you winced.

“Shhh.” The comforter was flipped away.

“Wha?” You started to turn.

“You fell asleep in your work clothes.” Steve guided you into a sitting position.

“Please.” You felt a sob coming. “I can’t. Not like last time.”

“Shhh.” Steve put your arms in the air and lifted off your shirt. “None of that. Hush. Let me take care of you.”

“Everything hurts. Please. I don’t know if I’m hot or I’m cold.” Your lip quivered.

“I know Baby.” He put your arms down and then went for your pants, pushing you back into the mattress with his other hand. “Don’t worry about lying to me right now. We will deal with that when you feel better. And I plan on making it my goal to nurse you back to health.”

“Steve, not like last time.” Your tears were so hot they burned your eyes. “I can’t.”

“Hush. Save your strength.” He picked up your hips and pushed your pants down.

A shoe hit the ground with a thud.

“You didn’t even take off your shoes?” Steve shook his head. “You really need my help.”

You squinted your eyes shut, unsure if you wanted to help the tears fall or fight them off. Fighting didn’t seem to be in your wheelhouse at the moment as Steve tossed your pants on the floor, leaving you in your bra and panties.

“I need rest.” Maybe logic would work, but your head was swimming so much it may have not made any sense to him. “Just sleep.”

“Oh sweetie.” Steve’s hands went underneath you and he I clipped your bra. “You have no clue what you need. That’s obvious. You’re so lucky I am here to take care of you.”

You clenched your thighs, not wanting the reaction your body was already producing.

“No.” You tried to wiggle away as he slipped off your bra, but once the garment left Steve pinned your shoulder to the bed. “I’m too sick. Please. I’m so cold.”

“That’s the fever talking.” Steve’s other hand slid down your body to your panties. He hooked his fingers under them and dragged them off. “Don’t worry. We will break that nasty thing together.”

“Everything hurts.” You put your hands to his chest and realized he didn’t have a shirt on, was probably already naked and you let out a sob. “I can’t. You can’t. Please, just be normal.”

“Normal?” Steve parted your thighs. “If you weren’t so sick I would think you wanted a kinkier time tonight. Lying to me? Now insults?”

He positioned himself on top of you. You brought you hands to your face, equal parts mad at yourself for disappointing him and not stopping him.

Steve’s lips met your stomach and you shivered. He kept moving until he arrived at your pussy. His tongue ran up your slit and you cringed at how wet you already were.

The realization snapped you back to reality and you sat up, trying to shove his shoulder as the room span.

“NO!” You slapped your thighs to his head. “NOT NOW!”

Anger flashed in his blue eyes as he reached up and grabbed your wrist.

“This is the best medicine.” His voice carried a warning that matched his features. “You’re lucky I can take care of you this way. Now LAY DOWN!”

Your shoulders started to shake as you fell backwards. Were you right? Was he right? Everything was so fuzzy. Your brain couldn’t even began to process before his mouth covered your entire sex.

Your hands went to the bed and you started to fist the sheets, now bending your knees and lifting your feet from the bed to give him easier access. Steve sucked down hard, pulling you into his mouth as his tongue slid inside you. Fuck. You were already so wet. This almost seemed unnecessary.

This was wrong. A chill ran over your fever addled brain and there was an ache in your thigh and back from the position. Your feet hit the bed and you began to pant. There had to be a way to stop this. To stop him.

“I’m going to puke.” You bit your lip.

Steve sucked hard before his mouth vanished, leaving your clit pulsing and pussy empty.

“Lying again?” He shifted to his knees. “There are no signs of that sort of distress. You need my help. Stop fighting.”

“I’m sorry.” You turned your head in shame. Then a wave of heat covered your body. Why were you feeling guilty? You said no! He should respect that.

The bed shifted to your left. You looked up at Steve as he put a hand on your cheek cradling your face.

“I’m giving you some leeway because of your sickness.” He turned you to your side and wrapped an arm around your middle before placing a kiss on your temple. “And I appreciate the apology. There’s my girl.”

He held you tight to his chest. Spooning. Maybe he heard you. Maybe he really was just concerned about you wearing your work clothes. You let out a sigh of relief as you snuggled back into him.

Then his hand came forward and he lifted your leg onto his thigh. You grabbed the pillow and dove your face into it, biting as you felt him line up. Shaking your head from side to side in protest.

“We need to break that fever.” He began to slide into you, easier than you wanted to admit. “Get you to work up a sweat and beat those germs away.”

The position made you feel his cock make it’s descent. Your fever rattled brain couldn’t focus on anything, but he felt so giant. If the rest of your body wasn’t already sore this would have broken you.

“Please…stop.” You spoke into the pillow, unsure if he even heard you.

“Oh baby.” He kissed the top of your head. “I know, it’s hard to take your medicine, but I promise we will break this fever and then you will feel so much better.”

He bottomed out and you winced into the pillow, feeling all of him.

One of Steve’s hands was on your hip and the other on your shoulder. He began rocking you into him as he pulled out and slid back in.

“You’re so hot. We need to cool you off.” He kept kissing you. “Let your body take what it needs. Shut off that beautiful brain. Give it a rest.”

Rest. That was all you wanted. Not this.

“You take me so well. See your body knows what it needs.” His hand left your hip and snaked down to your clit. “We’ll raise that temperature until it crashes. I know just what you need. Let me take care of you.”

You whined into the pillow and realized it sounded like a moan. Was it a moan?

“There’s my good girl.” Steve rubbed your bundle of nerves harder and pulled you tighter as he picked up the pace. “Taking the treatment. Doctor’s orders.”

The tears were flowing freely now, but you weren’t sure if you were rocking against him or letting him take control. Either way you were starting to give up.

Then you noticed another reaction: the tightening in your belly. You leaned forward, hoping it would satiate it.

“That’s it sweetie.” Steve moved even faster. “The best cure there is. Take it. You always do so well.”

You screamed into the pillow, not understanding how your orgasm was forming anymore than why you were now humping against him, desperate for it, no longer concerned with the aches in your body or fever in your head.

He was right. This was what you needed. You sobbed, not even bothering to think about the reason behind your tears as you let everything go, fell forward into the pool.

“I’m here to take care of you.” He grunted. “Let me take care of you.”

“Ahh!” You let go of the pillow as you cried, the waves of pleasure melding with the illness.

Your body shook as the chills, fever, aches, and ecstasy melted into one.

No thoughts came to mind as you passed out. Still feeling equally hot and cold and confused.

When you came back to you were on your stomach, Steve’s warm body behind you, still pumping in and out.

“Why?” You croaked out with a horse ness.

“Shhh.” His fingers were on your clit, playing it into life. “We’re getting close to breaking. Just enjoy.”

Everything was so hot. You wanted to buck him off of you, your legs shaking as you were covered in sweat. But then you noticed the tingling in your pussy.

A scream left your lips as you bit into the mattress. Your body shaking as an orgasm ripped through you. What number was it? Did you know? Did you care?

Exhausted wasn’t even in your vocabulary as you collapsed into the bed.

“There we go.” Steve pushed into you hard with a grunt. “You broke.”

Sweat seeped out of your pores as Steve’s cum coated your insides.

The heat vanished from your form as you popped your eyes open and gasped. The swimming of your head slipping away.

Steve kissed the top of your head and rolled off of you. You were spent, unable to move.

His hand appeared in front of your face with some pills and a water.

“We have to keep you hydrated.” He put them in your mouth and brought the water to your lips.

You took them down and let your head drop. Sleepiness covered your body, but before you could slip away his hands were on your calves, massaging deep.

“I’m going to work on these sore muscles.” He pushed hard into your leg. “Then we’ll get you a nice warm bath. But don’t worry, I’m here for the long haul. If that fever comes back, we’ll take care of it again.”

You moaned. Hating it that you already felt better.

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfic

910 notes · View notes

starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space orcs, “Not the Hero

Alright guys, here is the ending to all the angst, everything after this is recovery, so you may rest easy. You should thank @heerojiro for the comment they posted earlier today b/c I was thinking about posting something else and making you guys wait for the end of this arc. In fact, I had most of that other idea written.

However apparently I have been causing a tiny bit of anxiety for some of you lol. So I have decided to end your pain today. hope you enjoy, and look forward to having a little more fun tomorrow.

Also, sorry for the pacing. It was very hard to write this scene in two hours.

“Any movement?”

“No, except for those drones anyway, those suckers have been flying around for the last few days, almost nonstop.’

“Well that’s the first thing we’re going to have to deal with then.”

“Yeah, I was thinking we have our pilots feign an air strike, head in from the left and right and draw away their drones, then get in behind them with another group to cover our advance. I want to start up with trucks going straight down the middle, but send the real attack team in from the side. We have enough of those hand-held energy shields we could probably break through their line on the inside, toss a bunch of grenades to clear them out, and then use the light machine guns to mow down the rest. There are so many of them jammed in there that it shouldn’t be a problem, be like shooting at the broad side of a barn.”

“What did the commander say he wanted?”

“He wanted the Delta units light machine guns, or paired with someone with a light machine gun. The delta units will carry the gunner to the barrier and then set them up with a perimeter once inside.”

“How the hell do we plan on destroying their ship, a little C4 isn’t going to matter.”

“Yes, but a little C4 in their open engine compartment might.”

“That would kill everyone inside.”

“Which is why we will pull out before that happens. The explosion of their energy core will be contained inside their shields protecting the rest of us from what is going on inside.

“That…. Sounds good enough, I guess.”

Sunny listened only halfheartedly as the two officers planned their attack. Of course the Commander had given his orders, though at the moment he wasn’t capable of thinking past more than a few sentences. Though the nerve block was designed to stop pain, the Steel eye suit was apparently capable of partially overriding the block and sending nerve signals into the brain.

He couldn’t move, but was also in pain, though only marginally in comparison to what he could be under at that moment. She glanced over her shoulder towards the tent which had been erected for his privacy, and found that a lot of other people were staring too. Operation steel eye had been a largely publicized moved by the UNSC during the Drev war, a lot of people had heard about it though no one had actually seen one of the suits in combat, accept for a very special few, and even then they had only been witness to a few moments before the suits vanished into the ash.

The steel eye soldiers were to fast and too strong for your average soldier, and so generally tended to leave them in the dust.

Everyone was curious.

And now, it was almost time.

The delta units, other Drev, were gathering at the edge of the camp. They had come from all across the galaxy to participate in battle, and Sunny was glad to have them. They were a strange bunch in comparison to those in her childhood, carrying weapons and equipment that would have been considered heretical during the more traditional days.

It wasn’t every day you would have seen a Nine foot tall Drev carrying a belt fed light machine gun , but these were new times.

“We ready?”

She nodded her head, “Send of the pilots to draw away their fire….. I will get the commander.”

They nodded calling in on their radios for the jets to begin their flight, and Sunny turned walking towards the small tent her footsteps growing heavier with each moment she approached.”

She pushed aside the tent flap with one of her upper arms stepping into the dark interior of the tent. Light from above was filtered somewhat through the green canvas, and paired with the somewhat hot, humid nature of the little enclosure, it almost felt tropical.

Commander Vir lay on his back on a cot in the center of the room, his eyes closed, his face screwed up into an expression of immense pain and anguish.

It made her sick to see.

His body trembled lightly against the pain despite the spinal block.

She walked over kneeling next to him, taking one of his cold clammy hands in hers.

His skin was cold, though the metal of the steel-eye exo suit was warm with humidity.

“Adam….. It’s almost time.”

His eyes opened after a moment. The mechanical eye adjusted almost immediately,followed more slowly by his real eye which glistened with an unshed layer of water.

His lips trembled.

She squeezed his hand tight.

The tent flap opened behind her, and she turned around to find the ex admiral standing over them. He paused hesitantly as if not entirely sure he should be here, though when no one said anything he stepped forward, “I understand that I can’t make you stop but….. At least save yourself some pain.”

He offered something out to them, and sunny looked down to find a small black box proffered in his palm.

She recognized it almost immediately.

The box meant to be plugged into the drug port

“No-”

“I know you said no drugs, but commander…. I at least take it with you. Just in case.” There was a long silence, but Adam didn’t protest and Sunny grudgingly let the man through to clip the box to the waist belt where it would easily be in reach.

The door opened again, and one of the officers stepped inside.

“It’s time, Commander.”

Adam didn’t acknowledge verbally, but turned his eyes to look up at Sunny.

She hated this.

She hated this more than anything she had ever done, but she reached out and disengaged the nerve block.

The response was almost immediate. Adam gasped in pain curled over teeth gritted and groaned hissing and whimpering through his teeth in agony. The cries that broke through his lips were like that of a wounded animal.

Sunny found herself panicking unsure of what to do.

Everyone around the tent was quiet, and even the voices outside the tent had gone still.

Eventually the cries died away, and he sat up body shaking.

They watched in silence as he threw one leg off the cot and then the other, standing slowly.

The machine hissed and chatted with his movements, ready for battle.

He took one step, and then another, and then another forcing his back straight forcing his body to relax as he threw open the tent flap and walked into daylight, his movements accompanied by the hydraulic hiss and click of a machine.

The entire camp turned to look eyes wide as it fell on him inside his armor, a dark god preparing to lay waste on their enemy. Rays of light bounded across the metal skeleton rolling in waves up and down lengths of parasitic metal.

His mechanical green eye opened opened wide against the sun, black aperture clicking open.

Everyone stared silently.

He held out his hands to either side, and the ex admiral hurried forward, placing the rest of the attachments onto the limbs,, blades for close quarters combat, a helmet to protect his head, and a few more pieces to protect his torso leaving him mostly covered.

The longer he stood still, the more his legs shook.

“LET’S MOVE!” he barked, voice raspy and ragged from screaming.

Sunny took up her spear.

She turned to look at him, seeing as a memory coalesced from the back of her mind resolving itself into a dark shape of power and anger emerging from the ash painted orange with the blood of a dying Drev Clan.

***

He hurt so much.

The pain was debilitating, maddening. The kind of pain that is visceral within the stomach, where all you can do is lay down and rock back and forth because the more still you are the more the pain consumes you.

He had to move, had to keep going, or risk the pain catching up with him, and consuming him from the inside working out.

As his legs thundered over the ground he wished for nothing more than to lay down and die. To fall into the sweet grip of blackness and be silenced from the pain. As if that weren’t enough, memories filled his head coming unbidden to the front of his mind, memories of battles, memories of brutal executions by his own hand, memories of the rocks painted orange, memories of crawling through inches of ash face first as his body began to shut down. And when that wasn’t enough it came with mocking laughter, agner, hopelessness.

And a horrible sense of loneliness he once though he had forgotten, but now remembered.

Tears streamed openly and quietly down his face as he ran, there was no point in hiding them.

He wasn’t strong enough to keep them at bay either.

Overhead jets roared and drones hissed in that way they had.

He could hear the sound of missiles, gunshots.

His feet pounded against the dirt rattling him to his core as the Drev clans followed after him, their spears held at the ready, their weapons polished to a shine.

On their backs, the human gunners waited.

And next to him, she ran, the cool electric blue of her armor the only soothing thing in a landscape of pain and misery.

The only thing, accept for that box on his belt

NO! He couldn't think of that.

A set of armored trucks rolled past in the distance, drawing fire from the open amber dome as the burg swarmed outwards to respond.

Machine guns rattled, and burg bodies jerked falling to the ground. An energy weapons caught one of the trucks disrupting the engine and sending it into a jackknifing somersault through the air.

He was one fire.

They continued to run, and with the thumb of one hand he engaged the delicate purple energy shield just as they were approaching the outer rim.

He was running through a fog of horrendous pain, but the power through his limbs spurred him on.

He broke into the first line of burg warriors sweeping them into the air with a bat of his energy shield. Bones and carapace shattered and cracked with the power of the blow. The mechanical suit screeched in glee.

Guns rattled behind him.

He dropped the shield for a moment bringing up his own weapon to fire into the churning mass. There was really no point in aiming. It would be impossible not to hit something.

The shield went up again, absorbing and pulsing as an energy bolt surged through it.

He crashed through another line, mechanical assistance whirring, pushing his body past the limits of his humanity, turning him into something more, something greater.

Bodies flew.

He was a machine.

A god.

A burg roared up at him from nowhere its pincers out, ready to dig into his flesh.

But like a spitting cobra, he reacted on the instant sending the creature hissing back screaming and clutching at its face as the human saliva burned it horrifically.

More screaming.

At the head of a pack of Drev they sunk into the burg line annihilating everything that came into their path.

Blue blood coated the ground, mingling with red and orange.

He practically broke through the line himself slaying the Burg who was attempting to close the breach.

The gunners leaped form the back of their Drev companions, posting up on the doors and fiering inward the continued report of their weapons no more than continuous background thunder.

He fell back so as not to get in their way.

His vision was graying around the edges leaning toward black as the roaring pain ripped through his body.

His head was light and he felt as if he was about to tip over.

How long had he been fighting?

It felt like it had only been seconds, though his implant was telling hi they had been at it for almost an hour now.

His stomach churned, and he fell to his hands and knees vomiting violently, mouth filling with bile.

He continued to wretch, though there was nothing left in his stomach.

Something grabbed him by the shoulder, and he was hauled to his feet, just as the inner line broke and the gunners were stepping inwards.

THe trucks had stopped behind them and jets roared overhead.

He turned to his companion only to find sunny standing with him, her spear coated in blue sludge, her already blue carapace tinted with the enemy’s blood.

She urged him onward and he followed, and together they broke through the forward line and out into the amber light of the Burg dome.

The interior of the space echoed with a deafening sound. Gunfire was absolutely deafening.

The burg shouted and cried out in panic as they were systematically gunned down. Their small group of Drev and Gunmen advanced into the space covered by other soldiers pouring into the gap.

A burg ran at hi, and for a moment they were overwhelmed with bodies.

Energy fire rattled against his shield which only glowed brighter. Sunny held at his back with another energy shield, and together they plowed through the line.

He watched her spear two burg with one thrust, one through the neck and the other through the mouth before withdrawing her weapon and brutally smashing another set to the ground.

He ground his heel into the head of another burg as another bout of gunfire tore up the crowd just to his right.

A human body lay on the ground just to the right.

A marine with their eyes glazed over in death.

He thought he was going to be sick.

The fire in his bones was building. His body was screaming with an absolute horrendous and madding pain, the blackness at the edge of his vision was encroaching inward. The roaring in his ears was absolutely deafening.

In his pain, one of the burg caught onto his upper arm, and bit down hard.

He screamed, grabbed the creature with both hands.

And ripped it apart.

The moment was so explosive that bits of the creature were hurled many feet to the side, all the soldiers that saw it backed away in fear and terror screaming.

But for hi, it was the last straw, his vision went white, he felt himself drop to his knees as pain thundered through him. He was going to pass out.

He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t move.

All around him, the Drev soldiers were filling his place in the line swarming around to cover him as he trembled and moaned at the center of the battle.

He couldn’t move.

Tears rolled down his face and into the dust.

He didn’t even have the energy to heave….. He just, couldn't, move.

It was as if his body was filled with fire reaching upwards threatening to engulf him.

And then a cold hand one his face. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to stave off the fire and bring his vision back from the brink of collapse, his heart hammered weakly in his chest as his eyes lifted upwards.

Green met gold.

The world around him went dull and dim muffled accept for a bubble five feet by five feet.

Sunny knelt in front of him, her gold eyes calm and cool against the raging of battle, familiar and safe. Two of her hands rested on either of his arms, one hand rested on his shoulder and the other hand was cool on his cheek.

She forced him to keep eye contact with her as the blackness receded from his vision.

“I can’t do it sunny.” He whispered, “I ca-” His voice choked off

His body quaked with horrific pain.

She leaned forward a little until he felt like he would fall into deep pools of gold, soothing and warm.

“It will be over soon.”

Her voice came to him, though very far away.

She leaned in resting her forehead against his four hands gripping him even as one of his hands held onto her arm.

“It will all be over soon, you just have to fight with me one, last time.”

If it had been simply her words and his will, he would have been able to get up. He would have hauled himself to his feet, and he did, a little.

But his body failed him.

He sunk back to the ground in a well of mental misery as bad as the pain of his flesh.

He wanted to get up so bad.

But he wasn’t special, he wasn’t a hero, and simple words weren’t going to be enough to get him to his feet, no matter how badly he wanted it. This wasn’t a moment of cinema, but this was reality, a true story of the failing of the human body and the human mind.

He couldn't not make himself get up.

But he knew something that could.

The battle roared around him as he reached downwards and plucked the little black box from his belt. He saw sunny reaching out a hand to stop him, but she was too late as he slammed the little box home.

It clicked, and after only a few seconds of agony, his body was flooded with relief and a high so intense that the pain didn’t matter anyway.

He roared to his feet.

The world around him was a cloud of white and distant noise, but he was untouchable.

No pain could stop him now.

No exhaustion even hinted at bringing itself forward, and together he and Sunny broke a line through the burg ranks.

Their artillery was useless in this space for fear of killing their own. Their ships weapons were likewise but only worse, leaving the burg with their simple weapons packed together at close quarters with a raging machine and the drev, Ares and the Spartans, as they came to lay waste. They were destroying angels, and the burg were mandated by god to perish here.

Neither he nor sunny were the ones to finally place the charges in the burg engine.

They were too busy holding off wave after wave.

He had to be screamed at on multiple occasions to fall back.

There were at times where he thought they were dead, though internally he didn’t really care, but somehow they always managed to break through partially because of their weapons and partially because the burg morale had been shattered. They were being physically ripped apart, pulled in half, and many of their comrades lay writhing on the ground hands clutching at their faces slowly being dissolved by human venom.

He tripped over a body and had to be dragged through the open port, the last one out as the shield was locked shut.

And one of the marines detonated the button.

The explosion on the interior of the shield would have leveled the city if not contained as the burg ship’s engine combusted with a wave powerful enough to atomize everything inside.. The first wave turned everything within the dome to dust and fused everything after that into glass. The shield itself was the most powerful piece of equipment the burg had ever made, and if they had just managed to close it off, the humans would never have gotten through.

And now it was their tomb.

Off to the side Adam was having trouble breathing. His chest hurt, and his body shivered with cold that shouldn’t have been there.

People were trying to talk to him, but the glorious high from earlier was gone leaving him with chest pain, difficulty breathing, and the slow creeping of agony back into his limbs.

He was so cold.

The world around him grew white.

And he collapsed to the ground.

Finally allowed to sleep.

407 notes · View notes

itsthemoofacewriting · 4 years

Text

Drowning in the night

Among us is quite popular at the moment (rightly so) and it’s Halloween, so I was really feeling this. It pushed aside all of my current WIPs in demand to be written.

There’s a lot of similarities with the game, but I did take some artistic liberties, so don’t come at me. If you’ve never played Among us, it might be worth looking up the rules/gameplay before reading- otherwise a lot of things are going to fly straight over your head. The ship is based on the Skeld map to give you a rough layout, but there are some differences.

Title is from ‘Burning Lights’ by The Weeknd, I listened to this a lot when I was writing.

Summary: The ship’s suddenly breaking down and crew members are starting to behave suspiciously. Bonds are about to be tested as suspicion rises of an imposter amongst them. ZoNami. Among us AU. Rating: M- Horror, Blood, Gore

Can also be found on AO3 and FFN.

Enjoy!

Nami’s looking at the charts on the screen in front of her and frowned. The ship’s slightly off course. She’d plotted that just this morning and the weather nodes hadn’t detected anything for concern, there was no reason for the shift. She shrugged it off. Sure this was the first time it’d happened, but this wasn’t the newest ship anymore. She’d check the weather nodes shortly and keep an eye on things.

For now though, she made the adjustments and as she did, she caught Zoro dozing off at the far wall near the door. He’d been hiding away in here for most of the morning and if she hadn’t already known about him dealing with stray asteroids this morning on his watch, she’d be moaning at him about being lazy. Give it another 10 minutes and she still might.

But then she stopped and gave him an assessing look as an idea came to mind. He hadn’t moved for the last 10 minutes, he was probably in a deep sleep by now, and that thought made her hand twitch for the permanent marker that she knew was in her desk drawer. She’s done it before, and it’d been hilarious. He’d walked around the whole day with a moustache and pirate patch without knowing. Some would say it’s mean but she believed it was fair play.

“No,” he said, one eye cracked open to glare at her.

How the hell did he do that?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She smiled at him far too innocently, hands behind her back, and his other eye opened to properly glare at her.

When it was clear he wasn’t buying what she was selling, she huffed and turned around to get back to her task and Zoro readjusted to get comfortable again as he let his eyes slip shut.

Nami and Zoro had been travelling together for years, along with Luffy, Usopp and Sanji. Only recently had they been joined by Chopper, Robin, Franky and Brook. In all honesty, Nami wasn’t sure how they coped without them. Running a ship was difficult at the best of times and before, they’d been doing with only five people and no mechanic- Usopp could only do so much. Franky had blanched when he’d seen the state of the ship.

She’d just finished her adjustments when the communicator in her ear suddenly started to screech and it’s so deafeningly loud there’s a moment where she can’t do anything other than clutch at her helmet. From the corner of her eye she can see Zoro having the same reaction, no longer snoozing against the wall.

In the next moment she’s trying to tear off her helmet, except she can’t get the final clip to undo at the back and the more desperate she was becoming, the harder it was to do. Her eardrums felt like they were about to burst any second and there’s tears collecting in her eyes from the pain.

But then it’s over. There’s another pair of hands pushing hers away and smoothly unclipping the helmet. Not a moment later and she’s clawing out the earpieces to throw them across the room. There’s still ringing in her ears but it’s fading quickly now there’s silence.

“You alright?” Zoro’s voice is rough, no doubt from his abrupt wake up call. He’s looking down at her with concern, like it hadn’t just happened to him too and his thumb is wiping the stray tear that fell.

It’s a soft gesture, especially for him, and it’s like it suddenly dawned on him what he’s done. He coughed, face flushing and took a step back, avoiding eye contact. Nami smiled to herself, he was doing more and more things like this lately and it was becoming more apparent why with each passing day.

In the early days of the crew, Zoro and Nami had spent their days viciously arguing with each other and if it hadn’t been for Luffy gluing them together back then, she wondered if they’d still be travelling together now. Their arguing had ceased as time had passed and they’d got to know one another. Now they bickered instead and it’s harmless, even if they do anger the other occasionally give it half an hour and they’re back to normal. It was easy for Nami to call Zoro one of her best friends. Because he is. He understood her and although it worked against her sometimes, she’d have it no other way.

But lately. Lately things had shifted. She couldn’t put her finger on it. More time spent together and soft looks that he thinks she doesn’t see. Yet, it’s hard to tell with Zoro. He doesn’t do anything overly romantic and as for flirting, she doesn’t think she’s ever seen him do it. He doesn’t seem like the type and that’s fine, but it made it hard to be sure. Maybe he just viewed her as a friend, or worse, as a sister. She knew that Luffy did.

When Nami nodded in response to his question, it should be awkward, Zoro still refusing to look directly as her and her cheeks were warm from his gentle touch, but the communicators were still screeching, and it could be heard from across the room. Frowning, Nami walked over to pick them up. It’s the first time it’s ever happened in all her time on board and paired with the drifting ship, she can’t help the suspicion that’s brewing.

Maybe their ship had seen it’s best already- a thought that Nami didn’t want to entertain too much. There were so many memories on this ship.

There’s a commotion outside that halted her thoughts, feet thumping through the long corridors and voices calling out to Franky. Zoro’s nodding to her then, gesturing towards the door that they should also go.

Unfortunately, Zoro took the lead.

“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s right out of navigation to get to the cafeteria!”

Zoro turned on his heel and stomped past Nami, face flushed in embarrassment. “I’ve gone that way before,” is his only defence.

Nami rolled her eyes. “You can go that way, but it takes twice as long and, knowing you, you’ll end up taking another wrong turn and do a whole lap around the ship.”

Based on his silence, that is what he’s done before.

She truly wondered about her sanity sometimes, falling for a guy that has no sense of direction. An idiot.

They’re the last ones to arrive when Franky’s explaining the issue. Something about a system that’s probably fried, although he doesn’t understand why it’s happened yet. Just that he’ll investigate and get back to them and that sounded reasonable enough to everyone as they nodded along. Franky collected their earpieces.

“Back to shouting then,” Nami sighed, imagining the chaos and noise this’ll bring. Luffy on the other hand is thrilled, and everyone knows he’ll spend the rest of the day running around the ship.

They’re breaking apart after that, back to their previous activities, and Sanji’s shouting after them about lunch being soon, which immediately stopped Luffy from leaving to tail Sanji back to the kitchen instead.

“I need to check the weather nodes, our course altered for some reason and I need to make sure they’re performing. If they’re not, I can’t anticipate any weather patterns that’d affect the ship’s course,” Nami explained as they walked back to navigation. Although as soon as she did, she realised she’s discussing this with Zoro, of all people. He’s never understood any of this and she’s sure it just goes in one ear and out the other.

Nevertheless, he nodded and wisely kept his mouth shut. At least he understood she’d need someone with her to do that. It wasn’t wise to step outside alone; there were old wives’ tales of people going missing when they went outside the ship alone.

“After lunch. The cook’s bitching at me about cleaning the garbage shoot.” Despite his words, he still settled back down into his previous spot by the door and she knew there’d be an argument kicking off soon if he didn’t move himself.

Before she could tell him as much, the lights above them flickered and there were voices throughout the ship shouting “Usopp” and “electrical”. Usopp could be heard loudly groaning in response and his feet dragging through the ship.

Zoro grunted his goodbye shortly afterwards and Nami shouted “turn right”, but it was too late. He was gone and she knew him well enough to know he’d turned left instead. Idiot.

Nami was typing away at the screen, downloading this morning’s data and making a note to head over to admin to do it there as well. If she didn’t, it was unlikely anyone else would. Although Robin might, she had been known to do it occasionally. That woman was a blessing. Nami honestly didn’t know how she’d survived all this time with those idiots, even if they were her idiots, they drove her insane at times with their laid-back attitudes.

She’s still downloaded data when she suddenly heard a rumbling sound behind her, far too close for comfort, and she jumped, turning as she did but nothing was there. It was quiet for a moment and she could feel a cold sweat breaking down her back. It was ridiculous, she’d always felt safe in this ship but there was something about this morning that was getting to her and she’d never heard that sound before. It happened again and one of the vents rattled.

Not a second later, she was running out of the room, feeling like a spooked child, and swiping her key card to lock the door behind her.

A shiver ran down her spine but before she could do anything else, a blood-curdling scream ripped through the ship. Her head whipped towards the direction and she was running before she could even think it through, she knew that scream anywhere, but she’d never heard him like that before.

“Usopp!”

She was passing through storage when a voice shouted after her. “Nami! What the hell happened?” Zoro asked, catching up to run alongside her.

“No idea. I’m hoping he just electrocuted himself.”

But for all her wishful thinking, Usopp wouldn’t scream like that over something so menial and Zoro must have thought the same as it was written all over his face.

Along the way, they’d picked up Brook and Robin and as they narrowed in on the room, from the opposite direction was Chopper, Sanji, Luffy and Franky.

The door flew open and Sanji was the first to ask, “What the fuck was that?!”

The room looked trashed, wires haphazardly dangling from units or snapped with electricity sparking from them. Usopp was in the middle of the chaos.

“Something grabbed me! It tried to drag me across the room,” Usopp said, his voice shaking and on the verge of hysterical as he sat on the floor hunched over and clutching at his ankle. His face was as white as a sheet.

Despite the state of him, and the room, the crew were aware of Usopp’s rather… theatrical storytelling.

“Sure it wasn’t just a rat? Maybe its tail touched you or something,” Zoro suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

Nami grimaced at that thought but she nodded. “As much as the thought pains me, it probably was a rat. You guys hardly clean very much.” Something she would make a point of nagging them about from now on.

“What’s wrong with your ankle?” Chopper inquired; he’d been quiet thus far but as the ships doctor, he’d noticed Usopp’s odd position.

Usopp cringed as he removed his hands from his ankle and the crew blanched. The yellow of his suit was ripped open and his hands were covered in blood. The skin around his ankle had a deep handprint that cut through the skin. The most disturbing part was the claw marks surrounding the handprint, the skin raw and red around the scratches. Clearly there’d been a struggle.

“Oh shit,” Sanji muttered under his breath, eyes going round.

Because not only was Usopp hurt, but that was a handprint on Usopp’s bloodied ankle.

One that looked very human.

The room suddenly felt far too heavy.

It was then that Luffy spoke. So far he’d been quiet but his frown had only grown. “Cafeteria,” he ordered, his voice firm and a stark contrast from the happy-go-lucky captain they were used to.

“This hardly seems like the time to eat,” Franky trailed off, rubbing the back of his head as his eyes trailed from Usopp to Luffy.

“There’s multiple exit points,” Robin supplied, catching on to what Luffy meant.

That set the mood. Suddenly everyone seemed on edge as the reality of the situation settled. Luffy was being serious. This was serious.

Sanji and Zoro wrapped one of Usopp’s arms around their shoulders and they were hauling him up to follow after Luffy towards the cafeteria. Chopper scuttled after them, saying he’d stop by the medical bay for supplies before meeting them there.

Nami stood there, trying to comprehend just what was going on as everyone filed out.

Robin walking over to touch her lightly on the arm. “If whatever this is was dangerous, it would have killed Usopp on sight without leaving a trace of him,” she reassured.

That at least got Nami out of her stupor and she gaped at her friend in horror. “That’s so dark Robin!”

The atmosphere in the cafeteria was tense, no one had spoken, not even when Chopper had trotted in to start working on Usopp’s ankle.

Sanji broke the silence. “Did you see anything?”

“No.” Usopp shook his head. “One minute I’m elbow deep in wires and the next I’m on the floor being dragged.”

“Full story, go from the start and tell us exactly what happened.”

“Okay, so I’m in the corner because for some reason the wires looked frayed and I thought I heard something but when I turned there was nothing. I turned back to continue but then there’s something grabbing my ankle and pulling me across the floor.” He paused then, his body shaking slightly. “It came from behind and that’s when I screamed. I started kicking and thrashing around, grabbing onto whatever I could and then it just disappeared. It was like nothing was even there in the first place.”

“Where was it dragging you?” Nami asked. She had a hunch.

“It didn’t get very far but I think it was towards the opposite corner.”

“Where the vent is?” She could feel dread filling her… surely not?

“Yeah!”

The crews gaze swivelled on Nami then, waiting for her to explain why she would guess something like that.

“There were weird sounds in navigation and the vents were rattling just a few minutes before you screamed but I ran as soon as I heard it.” She shivered at the thought, that could have been her.

“You think it came through the vents!?” Chopper squeaked, there was vents in the med bay too. There were vents in almost every room and that knowledge didn’t settle anyone.

“What the hell is small enough to fit in there and move around so quickly?!”

“Also, the ship’s behaving strangely. It was off course this morning just after I’d plotted it out, then the communicators breaking and then the lights?!” Nami said and with each passing issue she listed, the feeling of dread grew.

“What are you suggesting?” Robin calmly asked.

There was a moment of silence, because this moment was inevitable, and they’d all been trying to delay it. Where someone would have to voice what everyone was starting to think.

That someone in this crew did it.

“Where’s everyone been this morning?” Zoro asked, solemnly.

Everyone’s rattling off their locations and, so far, they’d all been with each other, apart from Usopp. But it’s then that Nami realised, Zoro had left just before it’d happened. He’d left to go and clean the garbage shoot and by the sounds of it, never made it there as Sanji didn’t say anything about seeing him.

“Me and Zoro were in navigation.” Zoro shot her a look and she’s not technically lying but if she gets found out that he had left briefly, it’d looked suspicious as hell. But there’s no way Zoro did this, one of the foundations of this crew along with her and Luffy, their longest standing member, their second in command, and she’s not about to have people pointing fingers at him.

Zoro’s shooting her looks that she decided to ignore but he doesn’t challenge her. If he did now, not only would he put himself under suspicion, but it’d also take her down with him. It’s the last thing either of them needed.

“Then something else must be on the ship,” Sanji offered, unwilling to point any fingers.

“How? We’ve been travelling for weeks and it picks now? Sounds too sophisticated for something that’s not human and how’s it not been spotted? It’s gone around undetected all this time?” Zoro questioned.

“So what? You’re suggesting it’s one of us? The vents are too small!”

“Unless someone in this room isn’t who they say they are,” Zoro continued and although he was off to the side, he had the attention of the whole crew. “The ship suddenly breaking when it’s been fine all this time and getting around undetected. This needs knowledge, something that can be learned by being around us all.”

“There’s rumours about this. They’ve never been confirmed though because ships and their crew disappear without a trace, never to be seen again,” Robin chimed in and it had Nami, Usopp and Chopper looking at her in terror. Franky shook his head next to her.

“That’s old wives’ tales!” Usopp said, but there’s a wobble in his voice that doesn’t make it believable. “Right?”

“Had to come from somewhere and we did just pick up new recruits,” Zoro said and his scrutinising gaze is aimed at Robin, Franky and Brook.

“You better not be suggesting what I think you’re suggesting,” Sanji growled, no doubt sticking up for Robin.

“Coincidental, no?” Zoro’s eyebrow quirked.

“I think everyone needs to calm down,” Brook said, his hands held up to avoid confrontation.

“So you’re accusing Chopper, too right? Because he’s just as new as the rest of them,” Sanji argued, ignoring Brook, to call Zoro out his favouritism. It was no secret that Zoro had taken the young medic under his wing.

They both started arguing and soon enough, the rest of the crew’s chiming in to either argue for one side or try to calm everyone down.

Nami agreed with Brook. They weren’t going to get anywhere sitting around pointing fingers at each other with no proof. “Luffy, say something!”

Her plea to the silent captain cuts through the argument and everyone’s turning towards Luffy for his verdict. He had yet to weigh in on the argument, but now wasn’t a time for silence. They needed their captain to take charge.

“No turning on each other,” is all he instructed, face serious and arms crossed from his position on the table.

“Luffy-” Zoro started, no doubt about to try and talk some sense into him as second in command.

“What if you’re wrong?” Luffy fired back, not letting up and he made a good point. Not even Zoro would forgive himself if he was wrong.

“And if I’m right?”

“Lot of ifs flying about,” Usopp jumped in.

“We’ll deal with that if the time comes.” There’s a finality in Luffy’s voice that said this part of the discussion was over.

“Franky, what are the routes for the vents?” Nami enquired, eager to move away from that topic. They needed to move forward anyway, not in circles. “Maybe we can avoid them until we find… whatever this is.”

Franky sighed, his shoulders slumping, “I connected them all together a few weeks ago… It made more sense for ventilation.”

Nami cringed in response, it’s a bad answer and one that put him on the receiving end of a few sharp looks. Robin rubbed his shoulder consolingly, but it didn’t do much to alleviate the tension in the room. It was like everyone in the room just put him straight into the number one position for most suspicious and he knew it.

Zoro was about to open his mouth but instead of words it was replaced by an angry shrieking of the alarm and red lights suddenly started flashing above their heads.

“What the fuck is that?”

“It’s the reactor!”

“So it can’t be any of us, we’re all here!” Sanji exclaimed, shooting Zoro a sour look as he spoke and Zoro returned the look tenfold.

“Not the time for that!” Nami barked, in no mood to break up a fight right now.

And then the lights cut out and they were in pitch black for a few seconds before the dim of the emergency lights flickered to life. They were far weaker than the main lights and the result was poor visibility- everything would be so much harder to do like this. The intermittent flash of red didn’t do much to help either.

It was just one thing after another.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Nami presumed that was Sanji based on the language and the chair that was just kicked across the room.

“What do we do?”

“I’m going to deal with the reactor.” Franky shouted, already making his way to the door with Robin on his heels. “The lights shouldn’t go off like this unless there’s multiple breaks in the wires, you need to find where the broken wires are, it’s most likely in multiple places.”

He’s almost gone but he stopped at the door when Nami shouted after him, “Franky, did you fix the communicators?”

“Not well but they’ve stopped screeching, it’ll have to do for now.” He quickly grabbed the small devices from his suit pocket, chucking them towards the crew.

And then he was gone.

“Everyone in pairs, do not leave anyone alone and we’ll meet back here after!” Luffy ordered.

Zoro was instantly by Nami’s side and Sanji looked like he was about to argue until Usopp clung to his side, telling him he needed the most protection out of anyone else. Although Sanji bitched at him to get off, Sanji’s face softened as he looked at the younger man.

“Keep Nami safe, Marimo!” He shouted as he ran with Usopp towards electrical.

“Idiot, he needs to worry about himself,” Zoro grumbled, folding his arms.

“Let’s go, we need to find any wires that are frazzled, we’ll start with the right wing.” She explained, taking off towards the exit of the cafeteria with Zoro hot on her heels. “Well… just follow me, you probably don’t even know where that is.”

“Oi! I know my left from right.”

Nami grabbed Zoro’s hand just as they entered the corridors and as much as she told herself it was so that he didn’t get lost, it wasn’t convincing enough to stop the flush from working its way up her face. Especially when Zoro squeezed her hand in response.

“So we don’t get lost,” she supplied.

Zoro snorted in response but for once, didn’t say anything back.

The peace from this morning was long gone and was replaced with thumping footsteps and shouting as the crew descended into chaos, scattered across the huge ship trying to stay alive. At one-point Brook, Chopper and Luffy ran past them and Nami was left shouting after them because it looked like they were running around with no real ambition.

It didn’t take long after that for Nami to find one of the breakages and she was left gaping at it. It looked like it’d been chewed apart, the metal was torn open with sparking wires hanging limply.

“Focus,” Zoro said, nudging her arm. “I’ll cover you, don’t worry.”

In that moment Nami was happy to have him with her. He kept a cool head in dire situations, and she needed that right now. She needed to not think about someone… something, on their crew trying to destroy their ship and kill them all. She took a deep breath in and a deep breath out to centre herself. Fix the wires first and everything else would come second, she told herself.

She clicked the light on the shoulder of her orange suit to illuminate the wires in front of her as her helmet was still clipped around the belt of her suit. No one had put theirs back on since the communicators this morning.

She was making good progress and she only had two wires left to reconnect when both her and Zoro’s attention was stolen by the communication doors closing just a few feet away. What the hell? No one was down this part of the ship.

The hallway suddenly came alive as doors started closing and opening randomly.

“What the fuck is that?”

“Someone’s tampering with the wiring or the controls.” Dread was building in her stomach; it was one thing after another. They were being sent on wild goose-chase after wild goose-chase- a distraction to keep them busy.

A crackling was heard through her communicator and she was struggling to keep up at everyone’s broken words.

“Someone- admin-”

“Not right- still- someone else-”

“I’m- route,” Brook crackled through and by the sounds of it, he’d be dealing with it.

They could hear feet running down the hall close to where they were and that reassured Nami that Brook was close and that the issue would be resolved soon.

Except that reassurance soon disappeared as Nami heard a familiar sound and it made her stomach drop. As quickly as she could, she was reattaching the last wire and stumbling over her words to tell Zoro what was about to happen. “Zoro, it’s the rumbling of the vents, that thing is on the move. Think of a room for us to hide in without a vent so we can go as soon as I’m done.”

Zoro was quiet for a moment and Nami knew how absurd it was to ask that of Zoro, he barely knew the layout… well, he thought he did, but that was an entirely different issue and Nami couldn’t think of everything herself right now. But then his hand was on her arm, ready to pull her as soon as she was ready.

As soon as the last wire was in place, she was almost pulled off her feet as she stumbled to keep up, running past communications as the door was still closed and into the woman’s room next to it.

Zoro pulled out his key card to close the door after them and she felt her patience thinning when he failed on the third attempt. Third!

“How the hell can you still not work your key card after all this time?!” She whispered huffily, pushing him aside to swipe her own key card and watched the door slide shut.

“Shut up, it’s tricky and you know it!”

“Maybe at first! How long have you been here?” Sarcasm dripping from her voice.

A scream ran through the ship afterwards and it sounded like Brook. It didn’t take long for Nami to piece together. He was in admin. There was a vent in there.

Nami choked on her sob.

Suddenly there were hands on her shoulders, and she was looking Zoro in the face as he peered down at her with a stern expression.

“Pull yourself together. Brook’s tough, he won’t go down easily and even if he does, you reacting like this isn’t going to help anyone,” his voice was firm and he squeezed the top of her arms, she presumed in an effort to comfort her. “Besides, you’re with me, don’t insult me.”

He was trying to reassure her and in doing it in his own weird way, it worked. She felt herself relaxing, well, relaxing as much as she could in a situation like this, and Zoro was rewarded with a wobbly smile. She couldn’t help herself as she pulled him in for tight hug, clinging to him as he gave her silent reassurance, and he hugged her back just as tightly. He was so warm, and, in that moment, it made everything feel better.

After a second, she pulled away to look up at him. “Okay, let’s go! There’s more wires to reattach,” she told him, fire back in her eyes and Zoro smiled at the change.

The doors slid back open and Zoro tentatively poked his head out, Nami followed suit, looking down the other end of the hallway. She frowned when she saw a purple suit at the end of the corridor, what the hell was Robin doing by herself?

Nami nudged Zoro to get his attention but just as she was about to call out to her, the middle of her suit split apart into a mangled mouth and a long, black tongue oozed out to lick the wall.

Nami felt the blood drain from her body. What was that thing?!

And was it trying to find them through taste?!

Nami squeaked before Zoro could clamp his and the thing was whipping around to peer down the hallway. Zoro just managed to pull her back in before they could be spotted as the doors slid closed behind them.

“You alright?” Zoro whispered, his hand still covering her mouth and she realised he was making sure she wouldn’t scream. Nami nodded and his hand fell away.

“I fucking knew it. She was fishy from the moment she stepped on board,” Zoro hissed, his expression furious.

“I shared a room with her,” Nami said, except there was no heat behind her words, only sadness. It was silly, Nami didn’t know her, clearly, but Robin had been her friend and she felt like she was mourning the loss of that.

They descended back into silence as footsteps could be heard thumping closer and Zoro’s hand was over Nami’s mouth again when they stopped outside the door- not that it was needed, she’d already stopped breathing. She wondered if it was trying to taste them again and a shiver ran down her spine. It was a long moment before they could hear the footsteps retreat from outside the door, but they still waited until it was gone to sigh in relief.

“I’m calling it in,” Zoro informed quietly and Nami nodded back at him as he clicked the side of his communicator.

“Everyone, it’s Robin! Keep your distance, she’s the imposter! She’s not human.”

Although Nami could hear Zoro saying it, she was in too close a distance to Zoro to be able to hear what the rest of the crew were able to through the communicator. She presumed from what she heard earlier from the others they would have received a jumbled message.

All they got in response was a variation of, “What-,” “-Robin-,” and “-Here-,” and that confirmed her suspicions.

Nami put her hand on Zoro’s arm to get his attention. “It’s no use,” Nami sighed. “We’ll need to find someone else and spread the word. We need to meet back at the cafeteria. We need a plan.”

This situation was looking grimmer by the second.

Nami stood then, determined to put an end to this as she started to make her way to the door but then Zoro stood and caught her elbow.

“Wait a second.”

And she did.

She waited but he still stood there saying nothing as he peered down at her. He looked intense and for once she couldn’t read the look on his face, it was oddly unnerving. She hadn’t had that problem with him for ages. She raised an eyebrow, challenging him to speak but his eyebrows only furrowed further. What the hell was he thinking about? Since when did he think through what he said?

But Zoro was not a man of words, he’s a man of action, so instead he leaned down to press a brief kiss to her cheek, as if that explained everything.

Nami gaped up at him but all he offered in explanation was, “Should’ve told you a while go.”

She’s still trying to get her brain to work, wrap around what he’s just done and said. She managed to string together words after a brief pause. “That you like me?” She asked tentatively.

He’s stubbornly looking at the wall, his ears bright red and he spat a “Yes!” at her.

“But you didn’t?” She had no idea why she asked that, but honestly, she’s not really thinking right now. At this point, the words are tumbling out her of mouth without any real filter. She’s still trying to wrap her head around what’s happening. This is the last thing she expected.

“Did you hear me say any of this sappy shit before?” He’s still looking at the wall but now he’s crossed his arms defensively.

“Well, you��ve barely said anything now, so it’s hard to say.” If he wanted to be a brat about it, she was more than happy to tease him.

He rolled his eyes at her and finally made eye contact, “Fine. I like you. In a romantic way.”

Very romantic when he basically gritted his teeth through the whole thing. Yet she could still feel a blush working across her cheeks. How is this working on her?

“Why now?” She asked, trying to distract from her reaction.

“Better late than never.”

Something about that didn’t still well with her. Why was never even an option right now?

“So you’re backing down on your word?”

He doesn’t say anything but looked down at her in confusion.

“That we’re getting out of this alive,” she explained and waited for him to catch on to what she’s referring to. She can almost see the moment the bulb goes on over his head.

“No. You’re coming out of this alive.”

Her stomach knotted at his words; he didn’t mean…?

“…But you’re not?” She hesitantly asked, did she really want to know the answer to that?

“Don’t know yet,” he muttered.

This should be a happy moment. The infuriatingly annoying guy she’s liked for a while has confessed, but the reality is they’re currently being hunted and there’s no guarantee any of them will come out of this alive.

But she’d be damned if he went down without her, so in her mind it’s either both of them or neither.

And then it hits her, they may not have another moment together like this.

So for once in her life, she stopped thinking and without hesitation grabbed his face to crush his lips against hers. He yelped at the abruptness, but it was soon muffled. She couldn’t stop the amused smile spreading across her lips at his reaction.

It was by no means the most romantic kiss, neither of them had much experience before this and the mood is hardly set by the looming possibility of death, but Nami regretted nothing as they exchanged clumsy kisses. Zoro tentatively settled his hands on her waist, like he was waiting for her to tell him off, but she didn’t, instead she’s slipping her arms around his shoulders to draw herself in closer. They’re only closed-mouth pecks that occasionally linger for longer but that’s okay for right now, they can hardly start a make out session and honestly, Nami’s not prepared for anything more right now, her stomach already feels like it’s going to burst open.

They broke apart shortly afterwards but didn’t move away from each other.

“Idiot, how long?”

“Hah?” He asked stupidly against her lips.

Christ, what an idiot.

“How long have you liked me?” She clarified.

“Probably from the fifth argument, but I didn’t realise until much later. You pissed me off a lot, but I realised I didn’t want anything else.”

That still told her nothing, they squabbled constantly, but yeah, she could relate. It’d just hit her one day too.

“You wasted a lot of time,” she accused.

“You were hardly forthcoming yourself!”

“Forthcoming? That’s a big word for you, trying to woo me?”

“Clearly don’t need to, do I?” His voice was impossibly smug as his arms tightened around her to make his point, and it grated her slightly. “Besides, you’re the navigator, aren’t you the one that’s supposed to be guiding?”

“Arse. I can’t do everything, you know. Navigate, repair wires, open doors for you; you have to pull your weight too,” she countered, her smile broadening as he glowered at her.

He didn’t grace her with a response, but she didn’t mind when he pulled her back into another kiss. It wasn’t as clumsy this time, and that was probably because she wasn’t trying to crush Zoro into her face. It was still just as insistent, but they found their rhythm quickly and mouths were tentatively opening for tongues to brush against each other’s. Distantly, Nami wondered if she’d ever be prepared for something like this. Her hands buried themselves into his hair and she stood on tip toes to get closer.

All of that came to a grinding halt as another siren started going off, alongside the reactor alarm and they pulled apart. Nami flushed when she realised just what they were doing, in the middle of a crisis no less. They were making out in the girl’s room whilst their ship was falling apart and being hunted by Robin. She was mortified and when she looked up at Zoro he looked nothing but smug.

She didn’t feel bad about elbowing him in the ribs.

Their communicators crackled to life and they could hear Franky rushing through his words, “Shit- O2- down- someone- fix-”

“-helmets-”

That was only a few rooms away from them and although she hadn’t said anything, Zoro was nodding his head at her. They were both taking their helmets from the belts to put them on but Nami stopped Zoro before he could put if over his head.

“To be continued,” Nami whispered, pressing one last kiss against his lips to make her point, “because there will be a next time.” She delivered that line firmly because neither of them was dying before she could do this again.

He didn’t look convinced but that’s fine, Nami was adamant about it enough for the both of them. They finished clipping their helmets on and it’d be enough to supply them with oxygen for the next half an hour until the machine was working again.

“Roger, roger,” Nami spoke clearly into the communicator, hoping someone caught that.

For the second time, they were peering out into the corridor and they were eerily silent. Nami pushed through any of those thoughts, she’d think about that later, and took Zoro’s hand as they cautiously made their way through the hallways.

The doors behind them suddenly started snapping closed one by one.

And now the doors were being tampered with. It was trying to split them up.

“Run! We’re going to get locked in!”

As they took the last corner, just making it before they were sitting ducks in a part of the hallway with a vent, Nami could see the O2 room in the distance. She watched in horror as the door started to slide close. If she didn’t make that there was no telling if she’d be able to open it anytime soon and before she could think it through, she was dropping Zoro’s hand to sprint towards the door and slide through just as it closed behind her.

Heavy footsteps thumped from the other. “Oi! Are you okay!? Open the door,” Zoro shouted, banging on the door and as she swiped her key card to let him in, her hunch had been correct. It beeped angrily back at her; the door wouldn’t open. She would be stuck in here for the foreseeable future.

“I’m fine! The door won’t open, go find the others. Tell them about what’s going on and fix the door system, I’ll deal with O2.” He stayed silent and she knew he was about to argue with her, so she continued. “There’s no vents in here, I’ll be okay. Go!”

“Shit. Okay.” She couldn’t see him, but she knew he’s be running his hands over his helmet, wishing it was his hair. “I’ll be back as soon as the doors open again.”

And then she heard footsteps running away and she breathed out slowly. She could feel her eyes welling up as desperation set in but then she remembered Zoro’s words from before. It wasn’t over yet and he’d been right, if she got inside her head now, she wouldn’t be able to do this, and they’d all suffocate.

She had a job to do.

Cracking her fingers, she got to work on restoring the O2 and hoping everyone was piecing everything else together whilst she was busy.

Her fingers were furiously gliding over keyboards, bashing in key codes and watching bars slowly fill back up on the screen. Another few minutes and she’d be done- crisis averted. In the background, she could hear her communicator crackling with a few words scattered in but none of it made sense and she couldn’t waste time trying to piece it together.

The doors still hadn’t opened by the time she’d fixed the O2, she wasn’t sure how long she’d been in here, but it’d been a while and it was hard to tell what was going on outside.

This had been the longest day she’d ever experienced so far; it’d all started before lunch and as her stomach growled, it’s just dawning on her that she never got to eat. Oh god, she sounded like Luffy.

From the corner of her eye she could see some empty canisters, she figured she might as well pass some time filling them just in case and it beat sitting around grumbling about eating and unopened doors.

Just as she finished with the last canister the doors were slowly sliding open… except, Zoro’s not back yet and she’s caught between wanting to find everyone and waiting here for him. But then she’s just a sitting duck and the crew might need her.

She steeled herself to go out, but the lights still hadn’t been restored yet, and all alone it somehow felt even darker. Just as she’s about to leave, a spare steel rod caught her eye by the door and she’s picking it up. She had no idea whether it’d work against a thing like that (she refused to call it Robin), but it’s better than nothing.

Her communicator came alive then and there’s a frenzy of voices, she can’t quite pick out everyone but there’s enough voices to at least reassure her that the crew are okay.

“Nami- cafeteria-”

“Idiot-”

“No- engine- Nami.”

… What?

All the voices were talking over one another and with how poor the quality was she’s struggling to understand what she’s being told. From what she’s gleaned from the limited information it’s: go to the cafeteria, avoid the engine room. It’s slightly concerning that there’s still squabbling going on- but in truth, when is there not?

Before she had to make any hard decisions, a green suit comes into view down the hallway and she let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Zoro. He’d come back for her, just like he said, and maybe he’d have some idea about what’s going on.

“Zoro!” She whispered as loudly as she could, running towards him and he turned, his head nodding to acknowledge her. “Is everyone in the cafeteria?”

He grunted as she grabbed his hand and took off towards the cafeteria with him following closely behind. Although he’s normally quiet, he’s a bit too quiet considering the circumstances. She was expecting some scolding over her reckless move earlier.

“You okay?” She looked back at him, eyes quickly scanning along his body and didn’t see anything of immediate worry. Green suit intact, helmet firmly in place.

He nodded back at her and she figured the day must be taking a toll on him. She could certainly relate to that.

Shortly afterward she’s bashing in her key card for the closed cafeteria door but stopped short when it was empty. Where is everyone?

Before she could ask him, she could hear footsteps thumping from behind the opposite closed cafeteria door and she smiled to herself. So they were just early, for once.

As the doors opened, she started to walk forward and went to speak but her jaw abruptly snapped closed. Her eyes rounded and it felt like the floor was falling from beneath her.

She watched in horror as a green suit appeared through the opposite door.

Another green suit.

As in, there’s currently one next to her that she’s holding the hand of and one in front of her, that has also stopped dead in their tracks. They all had their own coloured suits for a reason, so they were easily recognisable with their helmets on.

Oh god. One of these suits is that thing.

And with that knowledge, she’s ripping her hand away from the green suit next to her and walking back slowly into the centre of the room, never turning her back so she can put equal distance between the two green suits and see them without having to turn her head.

From the corner of her eye, one of them moved, trying to slowly walk towards her like you would a spooked deer and instantly she felt adrenaline coursing through her as her body tensed. She’s reaching into her pocket then, pulling out the steel bar to clutch it in front of her.

“Back off,” she tersely told one of the suits

The advancing green suit halted immediately and took a step back, hands raised.

Her mind’s in pieces and she doesn’t know what to do. She’s in control of the room right now, both suits watching her from their positions but she knew that could change any moment and she doesn’t know what to do.

Suddenly the events of the day come rushing back to her.

Zoro had left navigation and then Usopp had got hurt.

Zoro sleeps a lot during the day and does basic tasks, like cleaning the garbage chute and heavy lifting tasks. Something anyone could do.

Zoro can’t open the goddamn doors!

She’d just kissed him- it!

Everything had been a lie.

Who the hell could she trust after this? Zoro was supposed to be it. It!

That thing can clearly shapeshift, going from a purple suit to a green one, but then, who said there’s only one of them?

Then she remembered earlier Luffy and Chopper had been running around aimlessly and Brook had screamed, and he was with them.

Luffy told them not to turn on each other.

Franky connected the vents together.

What ifs are flying around in her mind, as all of these thoughts come together. Seriously, who was she going to trust after this? Everyone looked suspicious.

Her breathing’s erratic and her heart felt like it’s going to jump out of her chest and her stomach’s rolling. Oh god, is she about to have an anxiety attack? Seriously, now of all places?! She’s about to lose her cool and control of the room. She needed to think.

One of the green suits that had appeared from the opposite door is ripping it’s helmet off, throwing it onto the floor, and she’s looking at Zoro’s face again.

“Nami, take a breath, I need you to calm down. A lot has happened since we last saw each other, but I need you to trust me right now and come over here.” His hand’s outstretched towards her but he’s not looking at her, his gaze is locked onto the other green suit that she had just been holding the hand of. Like he’s trying to size it up, to anticipate its next move.

Nami’s eyes flickered between them, sizing both of them up and god, did she want to trust the talking green suit, but how could she?! The other green suit is looking at her blanky, head tilted, and she just needed to confirm something before she made her move.

“Take off your helmet,” she shouted, jutting her steel bar at its helmet.

There’s a second where no one spoke or moved, and it felt like Nami was stuck in one of those crappy western standoffs. The one with the helmet still on tilted its head again and it’s looking between her and the other green suit without its helmet on.

Its hands come up to its helmet and for a moment Nami thought she’d be screwed if it actually took it’s helmet off because then she’s back to square one and the tension in the room can’t possibly get any higher without anything actually happening.

But Nami doesn’t have to go back to square one because it pulled its hands away without taking off the helmet and Nami watched in horror as the mask split apart to reveal a gaping mouth with razor sharp teeth and a tongue that came curling out with saliva dripping from it. It’s similar to what she saw before in the hallway but not even that could have prepared her for seeing it up close.

She’s frozen on the spot and it started to run towards her with what she can only describe as a screech of joy erupting from its mouth as it does. Except there’s another pair of feet running towards her too and she’s suddenly pushed down by Zoro as he covered her body with his. Zoro lifted his hand and the next second the thing is screeching in agony as he set off the blow torch in his hand.

Since when did he have that?

The thing reeled back, hands coming up to cup it’s scorched mouth and tentacles erupted from its back to lash out in its moment of vulnerability. One of them whipped towards them and Zoro’s falling back on her heavily. One look at him has her gasping and trying to sit up to get a better look.

“Zoro you’re eye!” Nami cried out. She didn’t see it happen, but she can see the blood that’s dripping from his eye and her stomach rolled. That’s because of her.

“No time, we have to move.”

And he’s right, the thing was still stooped low, sludge dripping from where it’d been burned but it’d only be a matter of time until it was on its feet again and they needed to regroup.

Nodding, she grabbed his hand and he was hauling her up onto her feet. She pushed him aside as they got to the closed cafeteria door, but her hands were shaking too much and the keypad denied her. She’d swiped too fast. She didn’t dare turn around when she heard a much less pained screech and, thankfully, Zoro didn’t rush her.

Second swipe and they were through the doors, but it wasn’t the homestretch yet. Nami could hear metal being torn apart and better judgement be damned, she turned around.

That thing couldn’t pass as human anymore. At this point it was more mouth than body, claws erupted from the suit and tentacles furiously swiped the air around it.

The next moment is disorientating as she’s suddenly swept from her feet and manhandled to sit at Zoro’s hip on one side. She clung to him in fear of falling off and it’s not exactly the most comfortable or stable position, but it freed her up a bit.

“I can’t drag you about as you stare, you’re too slow,” he explained as he ran.

“Just don’t drop me,” she told him, eyes narrowing in determination. He can run and she can keep it at bay. To his credit, he doesn’t even break a sweat at the extra weight, but she’d give that some more thought later.

The thing started to gain on them, screeching at them and when one of the tentacles came rushing towards them, Nami’s raising her steel bar to smack it away.

What she didn’t expect, was for the tentacle to absorb the bar.

“It took my bar!” She said, outraged.

Below her, Zoro grunted and his free hand is reaching into his trouser pocket. “That doesn’t work on it, use the blow torch.”

When the thing tried again, Nami aimed the torch and watched as the flame licked away at the tentacle, black sludge falling onto the floor below it. It stopped in its tracks then and Nami watched it slowly disappear from view as Zoro kept running and rounded the corner.

“It’s stopped chasing us,” Nami informed him, slightly confused why it’d give up so easily. Then she’s looking at the blowtorch, it either didn’t like fire or the light. Maybe it was both.

Then another thought came to mind. “When the hell did you figure this out?” She couldn’t keep the wonder out of her voice when she asked, she was impressed.

“I told you, a lot happened whilst you were locked in O2.” He took another left.

“Ah, so you spoke to Robin then.” She nodded to herself, the woman was sharp minded and no doubt, with the rest of them chiming in, they’d have worked something out quickly.

“Oi! I worked out that fire might work,” he grouched at her, offended that she was so quick to dismiss him.

“You came to save me on might!?” Of course he’d do something so ballsy and reckless.

“Some gratitude would be nice! What happened with your bar again?”

He had a point. Not that she was going to tell him that.

“I’ll give you that later,” she said lowly. It’s not fitting for the mood at all, but she couldn’t resist and maybe she needed some normality right now when they’re being hunted. Especially when she’s rewarded with an embarrassed flush working angrily up his neck.

“Okay, we can’t keep running around in circles. Where are the others?” He took another left and she frowned. If he wasn’t careful, they were going to end up back at the cafeteria and right now, they had no idea where that thing was.

“In the upper engine. They stayed behind, couldn’t have everyone running around with a shapeshifter on the lose.”

“Yeah, I get that, but why send you?” Yeah okay, it wasn’t helpful in this situation, but she had to ask.

He huffed but stayed silent, only adjusting his grip on her thighs.

“You ran off before they could stop you, didn’t you?”

“That’s not the point,” he replied indignantly, huffing. “Found you in the end, right?” It’s said with too much pride for someone who got lost constantly but she still found fondness building in her chest. Maybe they’re both idiots.

“Not hard when you told me to go to the cafeteria.”

“Don’t remind me, what idiots.” He came to a stop just down the hallway from upper engine and let her down. “We’d trapped it there and Franky had managed to block the vent but with how sketchy the communicators are I don’t even know why anyone bothered mentioning the cafeteria.”

“That vent isn’t blocked anymore, by the way, it got out,” Nami frowned, a thought coming to her, “It found me, I thought it was you, but the weird thing is, it didn’t kill me. It followed me.”

Zoro didn’t say anything in response, but he looked as perplexed as she felt. It’d attacked Usopp on sight but followed her willingly.

Those thoughts came to an abrupt halt though as she properly looked at Zoro for the first time since she’d met back up with him. He looked awful. His left eye was closed, and she didn’t know whether it was to keep the blood out of it or whether the eye just wasn’t there anymore. She couldn’t see the damage with so much blood oozing from the cut.

“Zoro, your eye,” Nami lamented, her hand coming up to cup his jaw and thumb soothing across the patch of cheekbone absent of any blood. She could only imagine how much that hurt right now. And he’d done it for her. The knot in her stomach tightened at the thought.

“It’s fine, stop fretting.” He tried to play it off and his hand grasped her wrist to gently pry it away from his face, but she wasn’t ready to let go of his face just yet.

“We’re not being chased right now; I can fret as much as I like.”

“I’d do it again,” he said gruffly, and it sounded like he was trying to reassure her about the wound so she wouldn’t feel guilty about it, but that didn’t detract from how sweet he sounded.

“Zoro,” she cooed, and he flushed a brilliant red when Nami’s other hand mirrored the action of cupping his jaw.

With her helmet on, she couldn’t lean in to kiss him like she wanted; for his sweet words, for her relief that he wasn’t a monster and that, so far, they were both alive. Instead, she’s leaning into him until she’s bumping her helmet against his forehead. It’s not nearly enough, but for now it’d have to do. He didn’t have any complaints when he leaned into her and his hands slid down her arms to cup her elbows to hold her close.

And that’s how they’re found. Standing around in the hallway, Nami cupping Zoro’s face and leaning into each other, a private moment that was suddenly very public.

“See! I told you I heard their voices,” Usopp stage whispered, eyes wide at the affectionate display.

Both of them paused, a hairsbreadth away from kissing, before whipping around to see Usopp and Sanji peeking out of the upper engine. Sanji looked outraged until his eyes locked onto Zoro’s bleeding face.

“What the hell happened?!”

Zoro groaned next to her. It was truly a testament to how bad it looked for Sanji to show such outward concern. They normally hid their affection for each other behind heated arguments and physical fights.

“Let’s all freak out over Zoro when we’re with everyone else,” Nami ordered. They were still standing in the hallway like nothing was currently happening. Zoro shot her a glare at that suggestion, something that didn’t hold much heat when he looked like that.

When they entered the upper engine room, it was empty. Just as she was about to voice her confusion, Zoro was pushing her towards the little broom cupboard in the corner.

As the door closed behind them, the small bulb in the room illuminated the rest of the crew, who were all looking worse for wear themselves. What the hell had been going on whilst she was trapped in O2?

It was a tight fit, as everyone huddled together, but it wasn’t important as her eyes jumped around familiar faces, taking in each one by one and doing a small role call in her head.

… 7, 8 and “Brook!”

“Brook! I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see you before in my life!” She’d definitely trod on someone’s foot to reach him, but she didn’t care as she flung her arms around his neck.

“Yohoho, this sounds like a backhanded insult, but I’ll take it!”

She allowed the hug for a moment longer but then she’s pushing is head out of the way, as he whispered a “so harsh”.

There’s a sudden commotion at the door then and it’s because Chopper’s just seen the state of Zoro. A pink suit is rushing towards Zoro, disregarding the rest of the crew as they start murmuring their own concerns, and he’s slinging his medical bag from his back to the floor to start pulling out things he’ll be needing.

“It’s fine Chopper! Just stick a plaster on it!” Zoro interrupted, swatting his hand to stop Chopper’s panicking as he started to examine the eye.

Chopper squawked at the suggestion and started laying into him, lecturing him about the danger of infections. Seeing as Chopper was no longer panicking and had started to clear away at the wound, Nami tuned it out in favour of getting some information on what the hell was going on.

“Right, someone needs to get me up to speed,” she stated and as an afterthought added, “And why are we huddled in the upper engine broom closet?”

“No vents in here,” Franky answered.

“Also, I don’t think the thing knows this room exists,” Usopp added as an afterthought.

“Not surprising, this is where all the cleaning supplies are and since when does anyone do that?” Nami sighed, but she couldn’t focus on their filthy ship just yet. Well, that wasn’t entirely fair. Sanji and Chopper kept their respective rooms clean, but that was it. The kitchen, med bay and the women’s room were the only clean places on board.

Nami’s comment was ignored as Sanji started to explain, “We don’t know how long its been on board, but Robin thinks it’s-”

“Morph,” Luffy cut off Sanji, looking far too proud of himself. When all she gave him was a baffled look, he explained further, “The thing. Its name is morph.”

As much as Nami was happy to see Luffy back to his normal self, so much so he was naming a blood thirsty monster, it was so incredibly unhelpful in the grand scheme of things. Before she could scold him, Usopp intervened.

“We didn’t name it Morph; you did!” Usopp accused and Nami was glad that he hadn’t become sucked into Luffy’s actions. “I still want Nightcrawler”

Urgh. Forget it. Of course Usopp wouldn’t be of any help.

“What happened to Rampage?” Zoro chimed in.

“No, we ditched that as soon as you left.”

“It was a stupid name,” Sanji sneered.

Nami could only stand there in disbelief and watched as the rest of the crew in front of her started to squabble about what to officially name that thing that was trying to kill them all.

“I quite like Selkie; they used to trick humans by transforming into them before mercilessly killing them. Quite like our situation, no?”

Nami barked a short laugh. Even Robin, her most trusted ally, the woman she could rely on when the boys descended into new levels of idiocy, had been sucked into naming this thing. She even noted that their lives were in danger and was still taking part. Was she going insane?

“Is this what you’ve been doing all this time? Naming this thing instead of figuring out how we’re going to survive?”

All of them looked at her, her voice cutting through their playful bickering and they all had the audacity to look at her like she was the one suggesting names in a dire, bleak situation. Maybe she was insane. She was in their books, based on the looks she was receiving.

“Don’t be stupid,” Luffy said, like he was the voice of reason here. “We did it after, when we were waiting for you.”

Ah yes, of course. She was the issue here.

She should be angry; she should throttle him but the day’s taking its toll on her and all she does is throw her head back and laugh. It’s a hearty laugh, right from her gut and it felt good. This situation is just so laughably hilarious.

“I think she’s lost her mind,” Usopp muttered and Chopper nodded next to him, looking at her cautiously.

Everyone’s looking at her as she started to calm down, wiping tears from her eyes. All she offered as explanation was, “I like the name Morph.”

Zoro caught her eye then and he smirked at her.

Luffy’s cheering then, arms thrown up in the air at his victory as the others mumble and moan about their loss. Apparently, everyone had their own name offered and with Nami voting for Luffy’s it was the clear winner.

“Right, so as I was saying, we don’t know how long Morph- I can’t do it! It’s a ridiculous name for such a serious situation.”

“Maybe that’s what we need right now,” Robin said and Nami couldn’t agree with her more. It’s why she liked it, it’s easier to deal with a shapeshifting monster with razor sharp teeth and tentacles when it’s named something so cute.

Luffy’s frowning, not budging as Sanji looked at him. “I won. Its name is Morph.”

“Nami liked it,” Usopp added and that’s enough to get Sanji talking again, seemingly accepting the name with no further complaints.

“Robin was thinking Morph’s been on board for a while because it seems to know where to go and what to tamper with to break the ship.” Sanji looked towards Robin, prompting her to take over from him.

“My theory is that it’s sophisticated enough to learn basic tasks and work out what we’re doing but Morph can’t learn complex things like language,” Robin speculated and Nami nodded in agreement, remembering Morph’s silence in the hallway. “I don’t think it likes light and that’s the reason why tampered with the lights before appearing fully. Space is very dark after all… and cold.” She’s looking towards Zoro then. “Did your theory work, Zoro?”

Zoro nodded back as Chopper was putting the finishing touches on his bandaged eye. “It seemed to hurt it and it backed off when it started chasing us.”

Robin and Zoro’s conversation held no tension like it did earlier from the cafeteria and Nami’s glad to see it. A lot seemed to have happened since then. No doubt she’d get the details from Usopp later.

“So what are we going to do now?” She’d got enough information about that thing- Morph, she corrected mentally, but now she wanted their plan of attack.

Except her question brought a hush over the crew and she’s looking at each of them to try and figure out what she’s said wrong. Usopp looked pained and Franky’s resting a big hand on his shoulder.

Luffy looked solemn and Nami hated it already, as much as his happy go lucky behaviour might irritate her sometimes, she wanted it back desperately in this situation.

“We’re leaving the ship,” Luffy said.

What? This was their home, where everything had started. “What? How can we-” She started.

“The decision’s been made,” he stated firmly and when Nami looked at Usopp, someone who would definitely agree with her, he looked downhearted but on board. This conversation had already been talked through at length it seemed. “Franky.” And Luffy’s nodding towards their mechanic to continue.

“The ships on its last legs. I’ve just barely managed to hold together the reactor, but we don’t have long, electrics are fried and on top of that there’s a monster out there making it worse,” Franky explained and as much as it pained her, she’d been out there, she’d seen the state of the ship.

“We’d have to find it and kill it, that’s even if it hadn’t tampered with the ship before we do.”

“Even then, something still might trip.”

“It’s too risky.”

Nami sighed and ran her hands through her hair. She understood but it was a lot of take on board. Ultimately, they were right. Their lives would be at risk and she remembered back to earlier when she was uncertain about how many of them were still alive.

She wanted them all to come out of this alive.

“What’s the plan?”

They’re huddled tightly into a circle going through the last few details. Franky and Usopp have prepared the emergency ship, it’ll be tight for all of them, nothing compared to their current spacious ship, but it’s good enough for now. It’s only there until they can land and find something else.

“I’m heading to the kitchen to get supplies,” Sanji informed them and Brook next to him is offering to go with.

“I need to go to the medbay,” Chopper added and Robin’s volunteering to accompany him.

“You need a helmet,” Nami said, pointing at Zoro. His was sat in the cafeteria and its current state was unknown. Everyone else’s were clipped to their belts safely. “If O2 goes out again, you’re screwed.”

“If you’re going that way, pick up extra helmets and suits,” Robin suggested and it’s a good idea.

“Someone needs to go to O2 to get backup oxygen,” Franky told the group, the emergency ship only had so much stocked into it and seeing at they’re abandoning the ship, they might as well take all they have with them.

“They’re already filled, I did it whilst I was waiting for the doors to open. Someone else needs to grab them, I’m going with Zoro.”

No one argued that and they’re all nodding. It was in their best interest to have the navigator with the permanently lost. Zoro didn’t argue it, even though he knew the reason behind it but now wasn’t a time for bickering.

“I’m going to the reactor to grab my tools,” Franky said and seeing and Luffy and Usopp are the last ones left, they’re going with Franky.

With everyone allocated to a task and paired off, they all agreed they’d meet back in the cafeteria in 10 minutes. It was a get in and get out job, no side tracking and if a pair didn’t come back- there would be a search party. No one was being left behind. Franky didn’t have many, but he had enough blow torches for one per group, should they come across Morph on their short trip.

It was then that Nami realised they’d been in the small cupboard a while with no disruptions but before she could voice her concern, the reactor alarm was blaring again. She hung her head, it felt like she’d jinxed them.

“That’s our countdown,” Franky informed them. “I stabilised the reactor as best as I could, but we only have twenty minutes before it’s done for. We need to be gone before that.”

With that last warning, the groups are filtering out of the tiny cupboard and spreading throughout the ship. There’s a shout of helmets off until they leave and Nami had no problem with that, it’d take away the element of surprise, because as far as she’s aware, Morph can’t imitate their faces.

Nami and Zoro run next to each other through the corridors with no hesitancy. There’s no time for it and at least they’re armed now. The cafeteria’s empty and neither of them bother to check if Zoro’s helmet is intact- no side tracking. They pass by Sanji and Brook as they make their way into the kitchen. They’re running past admin and they only have to make it through storage to reach the women’s and men’s rooms next to communications.

As they made it into the men’s room, Nami gets a bad feeling. All of this is far too easy. There’re no crackling voices in her earpiece, there’s no yelling or frantic feet and despite the reactor siren going off, it was almost peaceful. It didn’t sit right with her.

“Zoro, I have a bad feeling,” Nami told him as she grabbed a bag to start shoving spare space suits into.

“It’s too easy,” he agreed with her, taking another bag to put spare helmets into and then clipping another helmet onto his belt. “But I won’t complain. Maybe it backed off because we found it’s weak spot.”

For now, she could only agree with him and hope it was just good luck as they moved into the women’s room the other side of communications to repeat the process.

Nami doesn’t have a watch, but as they finish packing, she’s sure they must be getting close to 10 minutes.

There’s a loud commotion towards O2 and Nami and Zoro are shooting each other a look. They don’t need to verbalise anything before they’re running towards the sound- if any of their crew was in trouble, of course they’d rush to help.

Except when they arrive, there’s nothing there. It’s silent. There’s nobody in sight, they can’t hear feet running nearby and there’s no sign of a struggle.

“False alarm, let’s go,” Zoro said and he’s walking towards the door.

Nami nodded and went to follow him out, except out of the corner of her eye she can see a spare O2 bottle. She frowned, she’d definitely filled all of them and she’s not sure how someone had missed that one. Despite the voice in the back of her head that told her ‘no detours’, this technically isn’t one. They might end up needing that and she’d kick herself for leaving it behind.

As she picked it up, it’s far too light compared to the others she filled earlier and when she turned the canister around, the bar’s empty.

It’s then that it all clicked into place; no sign of Morph, the sound of a struggle only to find no one’s here and a strategically place O2 bottle to distract a passer-by.

A trap.

Zoro’s already left the room and she’s running after him, shouting for him to stop, not caring how loud her voice was right now. He’s almost into the weapons room when he whipped around, alert and ready for whatever she’s about to say but it’s too late. The doors between them are closing.

They’re both running but Nami knows it’s useless, there’s no way she’s going to make it through. With the last crack left, she’s throwing through her bag to Zoro and watching the doors shut on his panicked face. She imagined hers didn’t look much better.

Shit. He had the blow torch.

The keypad angrily denied her when she swiped her key card and her stomach’s sinking at the knowledge that she’s truly vulnerable right now.

There’s a loud thump followed by a silent curse from the other side of the door but it barely budged. Zoro’s trying to break down the door. It was no use; they’re made to withstand extreme conditions in the case of an emergency. Nami laughed at the humour, this is an emergency and now she’s in danger because of it.

“Zoro, go back to the cafeteria, drop the bags and get someone. Someone must be back by now. I’ll try the other door to the cafeteria.”

He had no choice but to agree and he left her with a, “Be careful. No reckless moves.”

Too late for that advice, she thought bitterly.

Nami turned to face the dimly lit corridor in front of her. Without Zoro here, it looked ominous, the shadows looked dangerous all of a sudden and every sound had her jumping out of her skin. But the longer she stood here, the longer she’d be alone. She clutched the O2 cannister in her hands for some form a reassurance and, as a last-minute decision, she clipped on her helmet for an extra layer of defence.

She started a tentative jog down the hallway, a stark difference from the quick and confident one she had with Zoro. She stopped at corners to peer around them, to make sure the coast was clear and yes, it did slow her down, but she needed caution right now.

It’s the home stretch when she reached storage and she wondered if her brain was playing tricks on her. Maybe it wasn’t a trap and the ship really was just on its last legs, like Franky had explained.

Just as she’s passing admin, she can hear heavy footsteps from behind her. She’s wanted to continue forward, but it also crossed her mind that it could be Zoro. He wasn’t far from the cafeteria before and if Franky or Usopp was there, they’d have the door opened swiftly.

Tentatively, she backtracked and as she peered around the corner, the relief is almost crippling.

Zoro.

He’s standing in the doorway of storage, looking around for her and then she’s jogging towards him, a cheerful, “Zoro”, coming from her mouth.

The joy’s over when he turned to face her and she’s looking back at two steel eyes. Not a cut or bandage in sight.

That was not Zoro.

She faltered slightly but remembered earlier when Morph had followed her after approaching it like nothing was wrong. She fought down the urge to flee and plastered a wobbly smile back onto her face to continue her walk towards it.

Except this time, Morph’s not curious, Morph’s hungry. It doesn’t keep up the pretence of a human and the moment Nami sees a mouth, she’s flinging the O2 cannister at it and darting away.

“Help, help, help,” she’s pleading into her communicator but its only static that responded back.

She was well and truly on her own.

She doesn’t dare look over her shoulder to see if Morph is chasing her, but her arms are stretching out for anything within reach she can knock over and hopefully buy herself time. As she smacked something behind her, she peeked over her shoulder and terror is almost choking her. Morph’s not close, but it is chasing her as it used its tentacles to propel it forward.

The thumping of her own footsteps is deafening, and her legs are burning as she ran down the empty corridor between electrical and lower engine, but she can’t let up her pace for even a second if she wanted to get out of this alive.

She skidded as she took a sharp turn and it definitely lost her some distance. It’s confirmed when there’s footsteps behind her, heavy and loud, and she can practically feel its breath on her neck. She didn’t dare to look over her shoulder again because she knew she’d be greeted by the sight of Morph practically on her back.

One second she’s looking at the familiar sight of upper engine just in front of her and she’s so close to the cafeteria, then the next she’s eating the floor. The impact has her face crashing into the shield of her helmet and so much for extra protection, she thought, as her nose smarted and started trickling blood.

Her feet are pulled from beneath her and she’s being dragged back. She doesn’t have time to register the pain in her face as she flipped over to watch as the tentacles around her foot pulled her slowly towards the towering monster. Morph’s grown and there’s multiple mouths erupting from the green of the suit

She kicked her free foot out, trying to stamp on the tentacle wrapped around her ankle but it’s quickly caught by another tentacle and then she’s being dragged closer even quicker.

Morph settled over her when she’s pulled underneath it and the weight of it had the air rushing out of her lungs. If it doesn’t kill her quickly, it’s going to crush her instead.

That doesn’t stop her from throwing a fist out to punch its face- she may be about to die, but she’s not dying easily. The image of Zoro’s face distorted from the impact before reforming, but it doesn’t stay that way for long as its face split apart to form a long stretching mouth. A tongue slithered out and licked across all its teeth as saliva dripped down onto the front of Nami’s helmet. It’s enough to get Nami moving as she squirmed underneath it, hands pushing and feet kicking desperately so she can shimmy out.

She cried out in pain when a tentacle from behind it’s back stabbed through her shoulder to pin her down to the floor beneath and there’s a clawed hand digging into the side of her waist. It’s enough to stop her squirming, as tears rolled down her face and her hands are at the tentacle in her shoulder to try and relieve the pain.

But the pain is nothing compared to watching its tongue slink out of its mouth down to her helmet and lick a long stipe across the glass. She’s helpless as the tongue started to undo the latches on her helmet and its claw dug even further into her side, as if expecting her to struggle.

She can’t believe she’s about to die at the hands (or mouth) of something that looked like Zoro. There’s probably something poetic in there but now’s not the time to be thinking about that.

As the last latch clicked loose, her helmet’s thrown to the side and she’s face to face with the monster on top of her (It turned out, Morph wasn’t a suitable name. She wished she’d gone with Robin’s option). Its tongue snapped back to its mouth, but her eyes are screwing shut as it stretched to lick a long path across her neck and face. There’s so much saliva that it dribbled down the rest of her face and she can’t believe this is it, this is her last few moments.

It growled in her ear, but she can’t bring herself to open her eyes, even when she heard its teeth snap just above her. She doesn’t want her last moment alive to be looking at an imposter of Zoro. She’d much rather remember the real Zoro’s dazed face after their first kiss.

But then it’s all gone, the weight’s gone and she’s gasping in pain when the claws in her side and tentacle are ripped out.

There’s a battle cry above her head and she opened her eyes just in time to watch Luffy jump over her body and a massive flame erupt from his blowtorch. She can’t be sure, her viewpoint from the floor isn’t the best, but she’s pretty sure there’s a massive grin etched onto his face as he launched his attack.

She felt like she was hallucinating as she watched the monster reel back and try to avoid the flames as it screeched in pain. She’s sitting up to watch but it’s blocked as Zoro knelt in front of her. His mouth’s moving and distantly she heard him saying that he shouldn’t have left her but she’s too busy looking at his face, soaking in the downward turn of his mouth, his remaining steel coloured eye searching her face and the green of his hair.

She wondered idly if she’s died and this was hell and she’s being forced to watch what her rescue could have looked like if it hadn’t gone all wrong. Zoro did always tell her she was going to hell when she died. She can’t wait for him to join her so she can rub it in his face that he ended up there too.

She’s pulled out of her scattered thoughts when Zoro’s softly wiping at her face with his hands, wiping the saliva on his suit and it’s the most worried she’s ever seen him; his face is pale and drawn. “I thought you were dead,” he breathed out and she came to the conclusion that she doesn’t like that look on his face. “With that thing over you and you were so still,” he continued and he’s still looking at her like she might die any second.

“Get a grip,” is all she told him and it’s worth it because he barked a laugh and it felt like they were back in her navigation room bantering with each other.

“You’re a mess,” he said bluntly and they’re falling back into their normal routine, so she decided not to take offense. His gaze does a circuit around her face, shoulder and side.

“You too,” she joked and although it wasn’t funny, she laughed lightly. Whether it was because she was alive, or he was or that this wasn’t hell after all. Maybe it was all of it.

He didn’t laugh back; the mood dropping suddenly, and she knew it was because he was feeling guilty. That this should’ve been him, not her.

Her hand cupped his jaw and her thumb’s running along the seam of the plaster over his eye. “You’ve done enough, have to do my part too, right?”

His expression instantly told her he doesn’t agree with that sentiment but before he can respond, Luffy’s next to them again.

“We gotta go,” Luffy said, breaking them apart and he’s throwing his empty blow torch down as the black puddle down the hall started to slowly reform. “You can make kissy faces when we’re in the ship.”

Nami spluttered angrily, embarrassed but Zoro just nodded and his hands are under her armpits then to help her stand. She cringed as she jarred her shoulder and pain lanced through her body. Its yet to stop bleeding and if she’s not careful, her orange suit is going to start rivalling Luffy’s red one.

“Put pressure on your shoulder,” Zoro said and she’s being scooped up to sit at his hip again, the wound at her waist facing outward so it’s not angered.

She’s giving him a funny look before cringing as she tried to clamp her hand over the wound on the shoulder that felt like it suddenly had a pulse. Zoro understood what she meant and answered, “Chopper’s lectured me enough, some of it had to sink in.” His free hand smothered over hers to press down on the wound and she’s borrowing her face into his neck at the pain. She almost doesn’t know what to do with herself. He muttered a “sorry” lowly but didn’t let up.

“Luffy, I’m changing my vote, Morph is a stupid name. I’m siding with Robin,” she murmured, exhausted as the adrenaline started to wear off and in need of a distraction herself from her wounds and the monster that was after them.

Luffy laughed brightly as he ran next to Zoro, no doubt happy to see her alive and arguing again. He tried to dispute her change of confidence, but she refused to hear any of it.

Behind them there’s an angry screech, it’s far off into the distance and when Nami looked behind them, there’s nothing there. It’s odd but she couldn’t give a damn right now.

Instead she’s asking, “Where is everyone?”

“On the ship, waiting for us. Franky’s getting everything ready so as soon as we’re there we can go,” Luffy answered.

“Curly cook said we’re not allowed on if we don’t come back with you alive.” Zoro’s doing his best to stop his jog from jostling her too much. It’s thoughtful but honestly doesn’t do very much.

She snorted. “I’m super tough, doesn’t he know?” It’s meant to be a joke because honestly, look at the state of her, but Zoro and Luffy only look at her with pride.

“You did really well,” Zoro murmured and his hand under her supporting her squeezed in reassurance.

The rest of the run to the cafeteria was uneventful and they should probably be questioning that but Nami’s too exhausted to bring it up. She’s hungry, in pain and bleeding. All she wanted to do was lay down and sleep.

As soon as they enter the cafeteria, the crew’s there waiting for them just before the small hallway that’d take them to the emergency ship and their faces shift from anxious to relieved.

It’s a short-lived celebration when the vent at the bottom of the cafeteria exploded open and black sludge poured out.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, doesn’t it know when to give up?” Zoro griped and his grip on her tightened.

They’re being ushered then down the small hallway and onto the emergency ship. Franky and Robin are at the front getting ready to leave and Chopper’s flitting around Nami, working quickly to staunch the bleeding. She wondered just how bad she must look when he didn’t immediately panic at first.

They’re watching as from the outside the black sludge was slowly growing bigger as it reformed, and she wondered if Luffy’s previous bombardment of fire had worn it down.

There’s an explosion in the distance that rocked the ship. Not only has that thing found them, but the reactor it sabotaged earlier has finally packed in.

They’re out of time.

“Uhh, Franky, we gotta go. Now,” Sanji warned as he stood at the back door with Luffy beside him and Zoro left her side then to stand with them just in case.

“I’m moving as quickly as I can!” And it’s true, Franky’s hands are furiously flicking switches and pushing buttons as quickly as he could with Robin co-piloting next to him.

Usopp’s down by her feet tinkering with something and Nami almost wanted to scold him that this wasn’t the time for that, but then her eye caught the ripped up top and fluid-filled bottle.

“Are you making a gasoline bomb?” Nami tiredly asked, her head lolled to the side to watch to distract away from the pain as Chopper worked on her shoulder.

“Yeah!” Usopp said proudly. “I started working on it when we were waiting for you three, y’know, in case.” His hands are quickly working as he soaked the top in alcohol (Zoro wouldn’t be happy about that later) and plugged it into the bottle.

“Franky,” Zoro barked.

“I need another minute! Stall!” Franky barked back.

When Nami looked outside she could see why Zoro and Sanji were panicking, Selkie’s almost fully reformed (Nope, not even Selkie’s the right fit). There’s still hints of different suit colours on its body, around the mouths (Nami shuddered to herself), but it doesn’t bother standing on its feet now, instead using the tentacles and long black nails slide out of its hands. She had no idea how something without a face looked enraged and furious, but it did as it screeched.

There’s a commotion at the door as Zoro stepped out, he’d pushed Luffy and Sanji out of the way and was trying to close the door behind him. Nami tried to get up too, but Chopper’s there to push her back down and it doesn’t take much to keep her down.

“Just go,” Zoro shouted, taking a step out of the ships door and facing the monster that’s only advancing by the second in front of him.

“If anyone’s going to be the knight in shining armour, it’s me!” Sanji exclaimed, puffing out his chest to stalk towards the door. Brook just managed to snag his suit to pull him back in.

Luffy’s frowning and Nami knows it’s because he’s not going to let anyone be left behind. Usopp’s calling towards Luffy as he was making his way to the door with instructions to get him inside and duck on his command. Sanji instantly stopped struggling as he pieced it together.

Not a moment later, Luffy’s wrestling Zoro into the ship as he’s shouting at him and honestly, it’s an amusing sight. Zoro who’s almost twice Luffy’s size being overpowered so easily.

As soon as they’re inside, Usopp’s shouting, “Duck!” and they’re both hitting the floor as Usopp’s lighting the gasoline bomb.

Usopp threw it just as that thing made it to the top of the small hallway and the glass shattered on impact, gasoline spreading over its skin and it’s reeling back as it caught alight, its screeching was almost deafening.

“Close the door!”

Sanji snapped the door shut and then the little ship was blasting off. If the monster hadn’t been hurt enough by Usopp’s gasoline bomb, then it certainly was by the flames that erupted from the back of the ship.

Everybody paused what they were doing, even Chopper had stilled, and watched in silence as they slowly drifted away from their ship. The left side of the ship was slowly melting away as the reactor exploded in on itself and it wouldn’t be long until nothing was left of it.

Nami wasn’t sure how to feel. They’d all escaped with their lives, so this should be classed as a win, but it somehow felt like a loss as she watched her home slowly destroy itself. A few tears were threatening to bubble over at the sight, but she didn’t dare look over at Usopp or Franky.

The feeling was chased away when Zoro sat down next to her, taking her hand and squeezed it.

…

“I still like the name Morph.”

Usopp slapped Luffy.

------------------------------------------

Huge respect for Oda, I hated juggling just 9 characters and he does it with an even bigger cast.

Also, sorry if anyone’s disappointed that there’s no deaths or a ‘real’ imposter. I’m weak. I want happy endings always and I can’t do that if I kill off parts of the straw-fam.

As always, please excuse any errors- especially as I rushed to get this done in time.

Thanks for reading and Happy Halloween!

#ZoNami #ZoNa #zoroxnami #swordgust #opfanfic #opwriting #one piece #zoro #nami

29 notes · View notes

sunlightdances · 4 years

Text

One Good Reason: (4*/5) - Dean x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Chapter Warnings: This chapter is PG-13, slightly M for mature situations. The reader gets sucked into a ghost hunt, and Dean finds himself unable to lie about who he really is anymore. An honest conversation leads to more. Series Summary: Dean never brings women back to the bunker. It figures the one time he breaks his own rule, the state issues a lockdown. Navigating the next month is an exercise in trust, patience, and falling in love. Author’s Note: Sorry for getting this chapter up a day late! Thank you for your patience. I don’t own Dean or Supernatural, but the plot and writing is mine, so please don’t repost it without my permission. Also: my new page divider is by the amazing @writeyourmindaway!

Series Masterlist / Complete Masterlist

It’s three in the morning when your eyes snap open. You’re startled, but can’t tell if something woke you up, or if you were dreaming.

It’s dark - unnaturally dark, even for the bedroom you’ve taken over, and you can’t get rid of the feeling that someone’s watching you.

You hear voices far off, and wonder if Dean and Sam are still gaming, or if something else is going on. You find it hard to believe that someone could have broken into this place, but still you’re on edge.

Finding the courage to get out of bed, you pull your sweatshirt on over your head, hood up, and head carefully to the door leading to the corridor. You find yourself hesitating, and almost jump back when you feel how cold the doorknob is. “What the hell?” You whisper to yourself, pulling open the door just to see if maybe the heating went out during the night.

As soon as the door is open, you can tell something’s not right.

It’s so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, and you can see your breath.

“I knew I shouldn’t have stayed here,” you mutter to yourself, trying to find your way down the hall only by the light of the dim emergency lights on the wall.

Far from you but loud enough for you to hear it, someone screams.

You’re frozen, your heart thumping in your ears and the sound of your blood rushing all you can hear. This is it, you think, you’re going to be murdered here in this weird house by a guy you barely know and his freakishly tall brother, and--

You stop at the sound of running footsteps, and suddenly the lights flicker on overhead. You wince, and when you open your eyes again, Dean’s there, looking pale and walking towards you as fast as he can.

“Back inside,” he says, gruff, tugging on your elbow.

“Dean--” You’re suddenly frozen with fear.

He must sense it, because he stops too, meeting your eyes. “Look, I’m sorry, and I’ll explain it all later, but please, you have to get back inside your room. The doorframe is iron so it should keep it out, but--”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know you have no reason to trust me because I couldn’t keep it in my pants and now you’re stuck here with me, but if there’s any part of you that trusts me at all, I need you to listen.”

You frown, “I do trust you.” You say it without hesitating.

Dean pauses, his eyes suddenly more intense and dark, and you’re snapped into awareness about how close the two of you are - every single gold fleck in his eyes is visible. He swallows hard.

“Good. Just-- don’t come out until I come to get you.”

He’s only taken two steps out your bedroom door when something collides with him, and you’re moving towards him before you can even think about it.

You can’t begin to comprehend what you’re seeing - Dean struggling with -- a woman? She’s there, and then she isn’t, flickering almost like she’s being projected into existence. More footsteps from the other direction, and then Sam is pushing you to one side, swinging a tire iron with all his might. The woman fizzles, and disappears.

Dean meets your eyes immediately, surprising you. “Are you okay?” He asks, voice rough.

“Am I okay? Dean--” You’re flustered. “What the fuck?”

He groans, getting to his feet with the help of his brother. “It’s a spirit.”

“A ghost.” Sam adds.

“You’re crazy. The both of you.”

Dean’s eyes are intense like they always are, but there’s something else there, a pleading, a desperation for you to understand. “We don’t have a lot of time, it’s going to come back--” There’s a wail from another room, and Dean curses before grabbing your arm again, dragging you inside your bedroom. “Sam,” he barks, holding out his free hand, and Sam places the crowbar there. Dean hands it to you. “Anything comes through that door, you swing.”

You laugh, but it’s a little hysterical. This is just-- this can’t be happening. You wonder if you’ve got the virus and your fever is so bad that you’re hallucinating this entire thing.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice quieter, “I should have told you from the start. But I’m not going to let you get hurt.”

You feel it again, the voice inside you screaming that you should trust him. “Okay,” you say finally. “Okay. Just-- tell me what to do.”

Something flickers in his eyes as he takes in the way you round your shoulders in determination, eyes hardening a fraction. A small smile takes over his face, and you’re struck again how it completely changes him.

“Spirits don’t like iron. The doorframe should keep anything out. Just in case--” he gestures to the crowbar. “-- that’s what this is for.”

“Can’t it just come through the walls?”

“Iron in the walls, too.” He assures you. Taking a small step closer, he reaches for your hand, squeezing. “You’re going to be fine. I’ll be back soon.”

You sit on the edge of the bed, and you’re literally frozen. You can’t even begin to understand what you just saw, or what’s happening outside.

You wonder idly if you’re dissociating. How long have you been sitting here? How long has it been since Dean looked at you with those eyes and promised nothing bad would happen to you?

The doorknob rattles and you react on instinct. You’re on your feet, hoping you’re moving quietly, and somewhere there should have been a voice in your head saying a ghost wouldn’t try the doorknob, because the next thing you know, you’re swinging a crowbar right at Dean.

“Shit,” he swears when you clip him, his hand flying to his eyebrow. “It’s me!”

“Oh my god,” the crowbar clatters to the floor. “I’m so sorry.”

He groans, holding his hand up at you in a signal to get you to hang on.

“Dean, I’m so--”

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” He peeks open an eye, squinting at you, “Are you okay?”

“I mean, besides having an existential crisis because you just told me you were fighting a ghost?”

He nods, motioning for you to wrap it up. “Yeah, yeah. Besides that.” He smiles softly at you. “Really. You’re not hurt?”

“No.”

“Okay then.”

An hour later, you’re crowded into the bathroom with Dean, trying to see the bruise on his temple as he tries to bat your hands away.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been bruised before.”

You glare, “Okay, well I’ve never hit someone over the head before, so bear with me, will you?”

At this angle, him leaning against the sink, you’re at eye level, and you can feel his eyes roving all over your face. It makes you want to squirm away from him, from the intensity you sometimes feel from him that scares you.

“You’re good at this,” he murmurs.

“Hold this,” you say, just as quiet, handing him a damp washcloth to press against his head. “I thought for awhile I might go into nursing.”

He hums an acknowledgement.

“I like to help people, but I didn’t have the-- the heart for it. It was too much. I was in tears almost every day of my residency.”

He frowns. “You got that far and didn’t go through with it?”

You shrug. “Like I said… I couldn’t bear it. It was too much. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life like that.”

His eyes are practically burning holes into you. It equally thrills you and terrifies you. There’s a part of you that still has no idea what he really thinks about you. You’re still learning each other and trying to figure each other out.

He says your name then, so softly, and there’s something else there, something bubbling underneath that has you pausing, meeting his eyes, and unable to breathe. No one has ever looked at you the way Dean Winchester looks at you.

“I think I owe you an explanation about all this.” He waves his hands vaguely.

“Maybe at least about tonight.”

“Do you--” He stops himself. It’s so fascinating to see his different facets - cocky and confident one minute, and careful and quiet the next. “Do you want to have breakfast with me?” He makes a face. “I mean, we can eat and I’ll tell you about this. If you promise not to freak out.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

The tips of his ears go red. “Maybe.”

You grin. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

You nod.

His smile is-- you want to see it every day. “Meet me in the kitchen at nine? Still have a few more hours to get some sleep.”

Turns out you barely get any more sleep. You’re excited. It’s stupid, really. You feel like a teenager again. But it’s fine, because Dean is making you breakfast, and even though obviously you feel like there’s so much about him you have to learn, you already know he’s a phenomenal cook.

A few hours later, you spend an embarrassing amount of time doing and redoing your hair, and settling on an outfit that was just the right amount of casual. You head down to the kitchen and are surprised when you look around and see there’s no signs of a struggle anywhere around the bunker… you wonder if Dean got any more sleep at all.

But he’s there, his back to you, in a plain black t-shirt and a pair of fitted gray sweatpants, humming to himself as he flips something on the stove, coffee bubbling away happily next to him in the coffeemaker.

“Hi,” you say, suddenly shy.

He turns to you, “Hey.” A smile that sets the butterflies in your stomach flying. “Hope you like french toast.”

Breakfast is a quiet, companionable affair - both of you scrolling through your phones and catching up on the latest news while you eat. Dean has two cups of coffee before you finish your first.

“Well, the entire world is going to shit,” he declares, setting his phone down. Slowly, he reaches for your hand and tugs your phone out of your hands too. “Let’s talk about ghosts.”

You laugh, and just like that, you feel at ease.

Dean starts from the beginning. He tells you about his Mom, and how he and Sam grew up. He tells you about some more memorable moments, but you suspect he’s sparing you some dark stuff, which you’re grateful for. The world is hard enough right now, and you’re not sure you can take much more bad news.

“This is the safest place in the world,” he assures you. “I have no idea how a spirit got in here. The place is warded-- but it’s happened before.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

He tilts his head, considering you. “You’re not freaked?”

“I mean, of course I am. But--” You hesitate. “I trust you when you say you won’t let anything happen to me.”

His eyes go a little darker. Not a lot, but enough for you to notice. You suppress a shiver.

“Good.” His voice is rough.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Why did you bring me home with you?” You rush to clarify, “It’s just-- obviously you don’t bring people back here that often. And I had a room at the hotel--”

“You want me to be honest?” He asks, and his eyes are so, so dark as he looks at you. You nod. “I wanted to see you in my bed.” His voice is raw, body tilted towards you, open. “You’re gorgeous, and I wanted to see you there, where I sleep.”

Fire races through your veins. You have patchy memories of Dean talking to you like this that first night, but the memories pale in comparison to the real thing.

“That scare you?” He asks.

“Yes,” you’re honest with him, “But it’s also-- no one’s ever said anything like that to me before.”

He looks at you for a long time before standing abruptly, the chair nearly toppling over in his haste to get to his feet. He holds out his hand to you.

You recognize the invitation for what it is, and against your better judgment, you scramble out of your chair and meet his stride, your fingers locking with his like they were always meant to.

He tugs you out of the room and down the hall with purpose, but right before you turn the corner to his bedroom, he stops short, crowding you against the wall. “If you don’t want this, I need you to tell me right now.”

“I want you,” you reply, for once in your life listening to your heart rather than your head.

His kiss is consuming. He doesn’t ease into it - he takes, and you practically go boneless against him, your weak knees and pounding heart causing him to smile against your lips. His left hand is buried in your hair and the other is on your hip, sliding low enough to press you against him right where you can feel he’s aching for you.

Dean groans when you whimper into his mouth, and you tear your mouth away from his, only to have him start kissing down your neck.

“Dean, bedroom.”

“In a minute.” His gravelly voice is going to give you a heart attack, you swear.

“Please?” You ask him, and he groans again, grinding his hips into yours.

“Jesus, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“Inside, Dean. Take me to bed.”

One last kiss and then he’s dragging you behind him down the hall and into his bedroom, the door slamming shut behind you both.

#one good reason #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #spn reader insert

102 notes · View notes

forasecondtherewedwon · 4 years

Text

Track to the Future

Pairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle) Rating: E (explicit sexual content) Word count: 7675 @spideychelleweek

Spideychelle Week Day 6: Only One Bed

Summary: Peter and MJ board the train to the academic decathlon tournament in New Orleans as friends, but after the booking company messes up Mr. Harrington's sleeping car room assignments and they're forced to share a compartment for the night, Peter hopes there's a chance they'll be more than friends by the time they have to, ahem, get off.

“…and if anyone needs anything at all during the night,” Mr. Harrington said, finally wrapping up his thorough Spending the Night on a Train Protocol, “Mr. Dell and I have compartments at either end of the car you’ll be sleeping in while your co-captains’ shared compartment is the first in the next car. Sometimes it’s easier to reach out to a peer if you’re experiencing any feelings of homesickness or stress ahead of tomorrow’s tournament. But remember, Mr. Dell and I are here to support you.”

“Nah, don’t knock on my door,” Mr. Dell said with a quick negative slice of his hand. “I’m taking a sleeping pill, you know the drill. I’ll also be putting my headphones on and turning the volume way up to sleep in a cocoon of music. I’m trying to spend as much of this trip as possible listening to jazz. By the time we roll into New Orleans, I’ll be fully immersed in the atmosphere.”

Peter’s eyes darted between the team’s chaperones as their group of ten sat crowded into adjacent booths in the dining car. The one person he was careful not to linger on was MJ. Things had been normal between them since boarding that afternoon―meaning they’d gotten in lots of quality moments of smiling at each other and looking swiftly away―until Mr. Harrington sprung on them the fact that they’d be sharing a sleeping cabin. Apparently, the train had double-booked a room, leaving the Midtown Academic Decathlon contingent one short. Their teachers (mostly one of them, after Mr. Dell begged not to be dragged into ‘this snafu’) had decided the best course of action was to pair up the captains. Surely, these were their two most responsible individuals. That’s what Peter assumed Mr. Harrington had been thinking. That and he probably hadn’t noticed the way Peter and MJ had been dancing around each other the past few months; as long as students were present, still breathing, and had all their limbs attached, he seemed satisfied. But Peter knew that he and MJ were going to have to be the real adults here and eventually confront the fact that they’d be spending the night on top of each other. Because bunk beds.

“Yeah, come find me or Peter if you need us,” MJ chimed in. Though her expression told Peter she was reluctant, the same instinct for leadership that made her a good captain was forcing her to speak up now. “Or text or something. I’ll keep my phone on.”

“Did you pack a phone charger?” Flash asked.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Yes.”

“Can I use it?”

“I’m offering you emotional support, not access to my belongings. Some things are sacred.”

“Pfft,” Flash scoffed. “You just don’t want me showing up to ask for it. Scared I’ll interrupt something while you and Penis are shacked up together?”

Ned laughed loudly.

“MJ and Peter?” he asked doubtfully. “Are you kidding? Those two aren’t into each other at all.”

Peter appreciated that his best friend was trying to cover for him (he’d kept Ned abreast of his crush on MJ as it developed), but this was verging on overcompensation and it’d only make Flash more suspicious. Subtly, Peter shook his head to tell Ned to cut it out and his friend fell silent.

“Please, everyone, just go to your rooms,” Mr. Harrington implored. “I’ll be around to check on each of you over the next twelve to fifteen minutes. Don’t switch rooms, don’t get up unless you’re using the bathroom or asking for help, and please, please do not fall off the train.”

“How do you think they’re going to manage that?” Mr. Dell wondered.

“Things happen, Julius. Be thankful you haven’t seen what I have.”

“I was there for that Mysterio nonsense in Europe, remember? I’ve seen plenty.”

“But not everything…” Mr. Harrington trailed off hauntingly. Peter and Ned exchanged a look that said, is this guy ok?

On that note, everyone trooped to the sleeping car with their bags and said goodnight to each other. By the end of the car, there were just Peter’s footsteps ahead and MJ’s behind. He touched the door to open it and the two of them stepped into the vestibule between cars. There was a loud rattle of the train in motion, not muffled like it was in the cars, and it suddenly felt as though they were very much separated from everyone else. Now would probably be a good time to break the ice over them sharing a room. When Peter turned around, MJ was right there, waiting for him to press the other door and let them into their car. His mouth opened, but he froze. Giving him a look like he was being a weirdo, she reached around him and opened the door herself. Peter laughed awkwardly and proceeded.

“So, this one, I guess,” he said as they came to the door of the first room. “Should we…” He glanced at the floor, then quickly up into his co-captain’s difficult-to-read face. “MJ, should we talk about how strange this is? Us sharing this tiny room?”

She nodded slowly, giving him a tight smile.

“I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” Peter continued.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” MJ promised quickly.

“You’re not?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, ok. Great.”

They were still looking at each other, still standing in the corridor instead of either one of them moving to open their door.

“It’s relaxing,” MJ offered after a few seconds of silence.

Peter perked up a little, pushing his shoulders back.

“Sharing a room with me?”

“Being on a train. Quiet, you know? Hey, you ever read Murder on the Orient Express?”

“No, but I’m guessing somebody gets murdered?” Peter ventured.

“That’s the gist of it,” she agreed.

Was she afraid that was going to happen to them? Had she only taken the step of reaching out to their teammates because she was the one who was scared?

“Nothing’s going to happen,” he assured her.

MJ sighed.

“You’re probably right. We’re not that lucky.”

Peter was still puzzling over that comment―was MJ saying it’d be unlucky for all of them to reach Louisiana alive?―as she let them into their room. He looked around her to take it in. There really wasn’t much of it to take in. She’d said she wasn’t uncomfortable, but he was sure his instinct to lighten the mood wasn’t misplaced. Should he joke about the small space being cozy? No, that sounded like he was trying to imply something romantic. Talk about the tournament tomorrow and completely ignore their forced intimacy? No, he was too tired to keep that up for long, especially if she offered to run through practice questions with him. Maybe rock-paper-scissors to choose bunks? Yeah, that was an immediate and practical problem that needed to be solved.

He was looking around for an out of the way spot to shove his bag as he asked, “You want top or bottom?”

“Uhhhh,” MJ replied.

“You can think about it while I go brush my teeth,” Peter offered, finding a spot for his bag, then reaching in for his pajamas and toiletry kit.

“Oh, that’s not indecision you hear in my voice. Look.”

He straightened up at her instruction. She was pointing at the wall, where what he’d taken at a glance to be the second bed, ready to fold down, was placed. He looked closer. Oh shit. It wasn’t a bed. Or, it didn’t exactly look like one. Peter would’ve investigated further, but MJ was already kicking her shoes off and climbing up to stand on the bottom (only?) bunk for a closer inspection. She flipped what was supposed to be the top bunk down and it came with a clatter and a cascade of straps.

“It’s for luggage,” she informed him.

Oh, he heard her, but he still heard himself ask, “What?”

“Like a thing you put your bag on and, I don’t know, strap it down so it doesn’t land on your head while you’re sleeping.”

“So, it’s not a bed.”

MJ clipped the not-a-bed into place, dropped back to the floor, and rolled her eyes at him. Yeah, that had sounded pretty stupid, but the comment hadn’t really been for her; it was more Peter’s way of verbally processing their current circumstances. Those being: two co-captains and one bed that looked proportionate to the room. But the room was tiny, which meant the bed was narrow as hell and probably not intended for two people, even when those two people planned to share it, because physical contact was no big deal for them, because their relationship was at that stage, because they didn’t have to look away from each other whenever they started to hold the stare just a little too long. Fuck, Peter was freaking out.

“Um,” he told MJ, flailing his pajamas and toiletries around, “why don’t you… and I’ll…” Peter jerked his thumb towards the door and, nodding like there’d been some kind of agreement made, exited their room while his co-captain gave him an odd look.

In the corridor, he almost screamed.

“You guys are first up on my bedtime check-ins list!” Mr. Harrington announced, looking up from a clipboard.

“Oh,” Peter replied.

“Yep, no pressure, but I came to you and MJ first because I’m counting on you to put me at ease. Please don’t tell me there’s anything wrong with your room,” he added, voice turning desperate.

“What room? Oh, our room? The room MJ and I are sharing? Well, it…” He swallowed. “It’s great. Small, you know, but, um, definitely has two beds.”

“Do you want me to take a quick peek inside?” his teacher offered. “I’ve led dozens of student trips and I’ve gotten pretty darn good at spotting damaged amenities, traces of bedbugs… Not that I could really do anything for you at this point. The room’s already booked and there isn’t another one the two of you could switch to. I suppose you could take my room while I slept in a seat on one of the cars, but of course, mine only has the one bed.”

“That’s ok. Everything’s good. Nothing’s broken or bedbuggy.”

Mr. Harrington was still looking at Peter like he was waiting for him to stop putting on a brave face and let the adult do a quick sweep. He should probably let him. MJ had put the luggage rack back the way they’d found it and they could pretend they hadn’t discovered it wasn’t a second bed yet. That would be the honest thing to do, and very possibly the thing MJ would want him to do. It was just that instinct was telling Peter to protect this secret opportunity. This very innocent chance for them to… bond and stuff. He wasn’t really sure, he didn’t have a plan, but all of his plans that involved MJ involved figuring out how to get closer to her, not how to run away. Figuring out how to share a single bed in a cramped room with an entire night ahead of them was basically the Chance for Closeness jackpot. If she disagreed, she could easily storm out and go to Mr. Harrington. Or slap Peter right across his opportunistic face. Or pretend to be cool with it, wait ‘til he fell asleep, and get her revenge by squeezing his entire tube of toothpaste into one of his shoes, or cutting holes in all his boxers. (He was ready to swear that one wasn’t sexual; he’d just had some very specific nightmares when their entire acquaintance was about him being wildly intimidated by her, before they became friends and he evolved to being only moderately intimidated.)

“It’s no trouble,” Mr. Harrington promised.

“MJ’s changing in there right now,” Peter blurted. It was the perfect excuse and came to him on the spot. “You could come back after you check the other rooms, but we’ll probably be fine. Anyway, MJ and I are both, um, mature enough to ask for help if we need it. No need to worry about us.”

He gave his teacher a tense, closed-lipped smile. Mr. Harrington seemed relieved.

“See you both in the morning then.”

“Yep, no problem!”

The second their chaperone was gone back into the other car, Peter opened the door and saw a flash of MJ’s stomach.

“What are you doing?” she yelped.

“What are you doing?” he shot back, hastily turning away and shutting the door of their little compartment.

“Putting my pajamas on! You just told Harrington I was in here changing!”

“Yeah, well, if you heard that then you know I told him a lot of things I didn’t think were true!”

“The presence of more than one bed may be a blatant lie, but didn’t you consider that I might actually be changing? I’m done, by the way,” she concluded in a less indignant tone.

Peter turned back around. Before he could stop himself, his gaze zoomed down her body. Her oversized t-shirt read ‘MICHELLE OBAMA’S ARMS BRAIN’ and her loose turquoise shorts just about disappeared under its hem. With wide eyes, he forced his gaze back to MJ’s face.

“Put yours on,” she suggested, eyes flicking to his and away.

Ok, this was it. This wasn’t the way he’d expected it to go. He’d though there’d be some kind of conversation first, or at least an acknowledgement of their feelings. Carpe diem, Peter guessed. He took a deep breath―probably the deepest he’d ever taken when he wasn’t dressed as Spider-Man and attempting to lift something heavy―and peeled his t-shirt off.

“Oh my god, nerd, in the bathroom, not here! Don’t make me regret staying quietly in this room while you lied to our teacher’s face.”

Flustered, Peter threw on the shirt he’d brought to sleep in and left the room without picking the other one up from the floor. In the bathroom at the far end of the car, he brushed his teeth, then stared at his face in the mirror for a minute, pausing for comprehension that didn’t come. What was happening? What had happened in that room? What would happen when he went back? It would probably have been helpful to talk this through with Ned, but MJ was waiting for him to let her know the bathroom was free. She was also most likely waiting for him to explain what the fuck his thought process had been in assuring Mr. Harrington that there were two beds, since she obviously had not been expecting Peter to start taking his clothes off in front of her. Though she’d definitely looked when he had. He’d noticed that.

This time, he knocked before entering.

“You’re done with the bathroom?” MJ checked, folding her toothbrush and toothpaste into a facecloth.

“Brushed my teeth and everything. You wanna taste the mint? Smell,” Peter corrected, blushing ferociously. “Smell the mint. Never mind. You don’t wanna do that.” He started to raise his hands apologetically as she slipped past him to open the door. “Forget I―”

He shut up instantly when his rising hand brushed her breast through her t-shirt. Shit. His eyes locked on hers as his lips parted to apologize, but MJ fisted the front of his shirt and tugged him into a quick, firm kiss. She broke it and released him.

“Probably a good idea if we talk about this when I get back,” she muttered and fled.

Alone in their room, Peter would’ve done a backflip if he’d had the space. Option B was repacking his bag and mentally cataloguing the potential lab injuries listed on his Chemistry class WHMIS test as a method of subduing the erection that had started to perk up when MJ grabbed his shirt like that. So maybe her reaction to him undressing had been more shock than anger or violation. She’d certainly repaid him for that; Peter was still a little stunned and his lips tingled like he’d been punched in the mouth. Punched very softly. By the mouth of the girl he had a huge crush on. He ran a finger across his lips as he zipped his bag back up. Then, there was nothing to do but… stand? Lean against the wall? Was sitting totally out of the question, since the one logical spot he could sit was on the bed they had yet to fully address? What the hell―he gave it a try. Immediately, his bare foot was jumping against the floor. Crap, should he have left his socks on? Was the floor of a train compartment as ready to give him nefarious foot diseases as the college residence showers May had already started warning him about, almost an entire year early? He wedged his bare feet back into his sneakers and stood with his arms anxiously crossed. MJ didn’t take long.

“Counter proposal,” she suggested as she stepped into their room and set her things on a teeny ledge that Peter didn’t know the purpose of.

He would’ve asked what was being countered, but MJ had him pushed against the wall in a second, her mouth planted back on his. Now they both tasted like mint. She was seriously not helping with his efforts to not have a boner right now. The fact that he was utterly amateur in the issue of how to hold a girl in a passionate embrace, and the evidence that she didn’t have any more experience kissing than he did (she kept catching his lip with her teeth and he wasn’t sure either of them knew whether it was intentional), didn’t actually seem to matter that much. His hands ended up on her hips, which wanted to tilt naturally towards his, and the fervour of her kisses calmed to something more enjoyable and bite-free when she appeared to overcome the way she’d surprised herself by kissing him in the first place.

“No,” she said, breathless as she drew back―his mouth might’ve chased puppyishly after hers for a second. “No, we should probably talk. I was right the first time. Counter proposal withdrawn.”

“Uh, withdrawal accepted,” Peter replied. He was dazed, his heart was kicking against his ribs, and if MJ looked down, she would see that part of him was still in favour of proceeding in a way that didn’t involve speech.

She huffed out a breath, fluffed a hand exasperatedly through her hair, and started packing away her bathroom paraphernalia. Meanwhile, he stood against the wall with a hard-on and watched her carefully seal her wet facecloth into a Ziploc bag. His brain was horniness and confusion. Finally, crouched on the floor by her luggage, MJ twisted to look up at him.

“I let you tell Mr. Harrington that there were two beds in this room,” she recapped. It wasn’t quite a question, but Peter nodded just in case she wanted the confirmation.

“You can go tell him something different.”

“Nah, I don’t really want to.”

“I could leave and you could keep this room, or maybe you could share with Betty, or―”

“I said I don’t want to,” MJ repeated. She moved to sit on the bed.

“So… what do we do?”

Peter was very curious about what her solution might be, mostly because he wasn’t 100% clear on what the problem was. If neither of them was bothered by the absence of a second bed and both of them had avidly participated in that tragically curtailed make-out session… well. He felt there were certain courses of action that would seem reasonable. But he didn’t trust himself to have a solid grip of what was going on, not when he remained semi-hard in his pajama bottoms and stared at MJ’s mouth as frequently as into her eyes.

“We… would have to share?” This time it was definitely a question and Peter nodded more slowly to acknowledge that question, rather than to agree with it outright.

“If you want both of us to stay, then, yeah. I don’t really want to sleep on the floor and I can’t stay awake all night with the tournament tomorrow.”

“And how would you feel about sharing?” MJ’s eyes darted to his face and down to her lap where she pulled her t-shirt down her thighs. It looked like she was doing it more for something to do than out of any inclination towards modesty. Also, the eye-contact avoidance said she was a little insecure about what his answer might be.

“I would feel, I would feel really good about it,” Peter stuttered out. She met his eyes.

“I like you,” MJ blurted.

“Me too. You.”

He smiled and she patted the bed at her side with an awkward, sarcastic expression. He took her invitation and stepped forward with a lurch to sit next to her. His gaze trailed down her arm to witness her gripping the edge of the bed with both hands. Her shoulders hunched, then shrugged back down.

“We’d be in pretty deep shit with a lot of people if anyone knew this was happening right now,” she speculated.

Peter laughed.

“Definitely.” He cleared his throat. “And, uh, what exactly is happening?”

MJ looked at him. Slowly, she reached for his face, turned and angled it to her liking, then gradually leaned in and, very softly, kissed him for the third time.

“Oh, ok,” he said as she drew back. “So the talking didn’t mean the kissing wasn’t going to continue.”

“I was trying to be responsible first.”

“Right. Co-captains.”

“There are expectations for our conscientiousness. And I will drop you like a hot potato if you threaten anyone’s belief in my conscientiousness.”

“You will?”

MJ smiled in a familiar way.

“You’re messing with me,” Peter realized, also smiling and rocking back slightly to scan the ceiling.

“About everything but the hot part.”

He straightened up immediately, completely focused on her.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. That’s really going to be a problem,” she said thoughtfully. Peter frowned. “For when we lie down on this thing―” MJ swatted the bed. “―and see what happens if we keep kissing.”

“I’m sorry my attractiveness is such a drawback for you,” he joked.

“I’d be better at resisting temptation if temptation didn’t have ridiculously chiseled abs.”

He puffed out a laugh and presented her with a lopsided smile, struggling between feeling embarrassed and really fucking thankful that he appealed to her in such a shallow way. For self-congratulation, he gave himself two whole seconds of side-eyeing the peaks of her boobs through her t-shirt.

“Actually, I’m not that clueless about what would happen,” she confessed. “I think it’d be pretty impossible for me to lie beside you and be chill about it.”

“That’s fine with me,” Peter promised eagerly, “but we don’t have to lie down right away.”

He reached over and let his hand hover above her knee until MJ grasped it and brought it down to rest on her cool skin. It took the shortest glance to make him lean into her space and kiss… her cheek, chickening out a little after all the talk about the obvious proceedings from the second they were horizontal together. Peter wanted that―he definitely wanted that―but he also really liked sitting in this moment with her, knowing that she wanted that too. And that she would be alright with him kissing her, if that was another thing he wanted. He did. The hand he didn’t have on her knee lightly cupped her face as Peter skimmed his lips down to her mouth. There, that was better, he thought, as MJ sighed against his lips.

Slipping his hand from her cheek around to the back of her head, he secured his fingers in her hair and pulled her mouth harder to his. She made a small sound that seemed to plunge straight down his throat and echo around in his stomach. Then, it plummeted even farther, stirring his groin. His hand tightened on her knee. Less tentatively than he would’ve expected (or had expected, in his fantasies of what kissing her would be like), MJ snuck her tongue into his mouth. At the feeling of their tongues gliding past and around each other, she became the one grabbing for him, hand low on the back of his neck. When she mirrored him by gripping his knee, Peter jumped, then smoothed his hand up her thigh as she twisted into him.

They were at an impasse for a second, or at least he was, fighting the urge to ease MJ onto her back and cover her body with his. No lying down; not yet. There was so much tension in their postures as they leaned into each other, gripping legs and necks and barely breaking the kiss long enough for a deeper inhalation. Even to Peter, it felt abrupt when he swung his legs up onto the bed. Though he had to swing them away from her, MJ understood―just like he’d expected―and climbed over to sit astride his thighs―just like he’d hoped. He was breathing stupidly hard as her eyes locked on his and she shuffled forward. His hands seized her hips, then her ass, and then he closed his eyes as they rolled back in his head because she was pressed right up against him and his fingers couldn’t trace the lines of any underwear through her cotton shorts. Something primal surged up from deep inside him and he narrowly managed to not start grinding into her.

“However this goes,” Peter panted, opening his eyes, “swear you’re not gonna murder me on this train. Or open our door to a murderer while I’m sleeping.”

“I swear. Strangely, this is better.” She smiled.

He didn’t know what was so strange about preferring feeling each other up over solving/committing a homicide. Then again, they did both kinda have a thing for violent crime.

“That’s reassuring,” he told her, hands hot on her butt. She shifted against him and he grunted.

“Sorry,” MJ said immediately. Peter choked out a laugh.

“That wasn’t a noise of pain.”

“Oh.”

Her smile returned―broader, slyer. She folded her arms around his shoulders and rocked her hips against his. When he gasped, MJ looked the most delighted he’d ever seen her. She kissed him and rolled her hips again, but this time, his hands on her ass kept her in place and he rolled his hips back, groaning as his erection rubbed against her through their pajamas. Somehow, she wriggled even closer, thighs clamped on either side of him and seemed to consciously and minutely reposition her hips. The next time they ground against each other, she went, “Unnh!” and he understood. His whole body flushed with heat.

Hastily, they started trying to take each other’s shirts off at the same time. MJ already had both hands up under the fabric and pressed to his chest by the time Peter had gotten a single hand past the drapey folds of her oversized choice. They were stuck again, neither able to proceed with the other’s hands on them.

“You want me to go first?” Peter asked.

“Better do mine first,” she said. “You’re going to have a tough time prying me away once your shirt’s off.”

He blushed at how matter-of-factly she’d said that.

“I have no idea why you think I’m going to do any better.”

“So I shouldn’t take mine off?” she checked.

“Definitely take it off.”

“You’re such a moron.”

“Mhmm,” he agreed absently, lifting the hem of MJ’s shirt as she wriggled her arms out of the sleeves. Once her hands were tucked away inside the big t-shirt, Peter tugged the whole thing straight off.

“Now you,” she said quickly, grabbing his shoulders so he couldn’t immediately tip forward and begin kissing all over her chest.

She couldn’t prevent him from staring though. He did that until MJ jerked the neck of his shirt up over his eyes and he was forced to help her divest him of it or else be blinded to anything that might follow. And he definitely wanted his sight, wanted his eyes wide open.

In the end, she didn’t let him stare that long; she got this overwhelmed look in her eyes and hugged herself to him, their chests flush. Peter imagined a kind of surface-level vibration, like what was holding them together was static cling and with every little brush, they were recharged. What to do with all that waiting energy? He put his hands back on her ass―roaming more now, curving to shape her hips and her backside―and guided her purposely against him. MJ’s thighs tensed around him as she took control of the movement until Peter was grasping without pushing or pulling. As her eyelids drifted down, he exhaled and listened to the wispy sounds of her moan-toned breaths and the clatter of the train around them, always in southward motion down the track. It was dark outside and the light in their sleeping compartment was low without an assist from the sun. Probably because, in a room this small with mysterious ledges and misleading luggage racks, they’d had a hard time figuring out where to put a lamp or a pot light that emitted a decent wattage. Whatever. This railroad mood lighting wasn’t the worst.

MJ’s fingers skated along his jaw for almost a full minute (any longer and he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from twitching away out of ticklishness) before they stilled with his face in her hands and she kissed him. Their mouths bumped and slipped, hungry and gentle. There was a note of distraction, Peter thought, thanks to their minds skipping ahead to the next part, making the kiss the bridge rather than the destination. Pressing his lips to hers was no longer the ultimate joy he could hope for. Suddenly, there could be more.

Her hands caressed down his neck, a slight quaver in her fingers, and dragged through his collarbones like she was scooping them out. She could’ve been. She could’ve run a finger along the length and blown after it, sending up blustery sawdust. Peter was no longer 100% certain that he’d had a clavicle before MJ had touched him. Moving his hands up to her waist because it felt like a more respectful place to let them rest on her and because bare skin beneath his fingertips, he kept up his end of their abstracted kissing as she explored across to his shoulders. His cock throbbed against her, impatient with her leisurely hands and lazy hips, only shallowly swaying now. When she broke the kiss with a hot pant against his lips, it was to look in his eyes while she discovered his chest, then pressed against it. He laid back like she wanted. His hands sailed down her thighs and squeezed right above her knees. Bizarrely, that was the action that woke him up to what was happening. There was no way to look up at MJ―mostly naked, straddling his lap, doing her best to keep her hair out of her face as she looked straight back down at him―except with more than a little bit of awe. He swallowed thickly.

She rocked a few times without breaking their stare, then said, “Should we get under the sheet?”

“Ok.”

It was less fumbling than it could have been, mostly because they moved so quickly. Peter was practically shaking with adrenaline after forcing himself to be still as MJ mapped him with her hands. Suddenly separate and next to one another, suddenly between two sheets like the flap of an envelope was about to be licked and sealed down over them. Send us anywhere, Peter thought. The room looked bigger like this, lying on his side with his back to the wall, but he only glanced. MJ swept across the bed like a shooting star in the sky for a kiss and they rapidly shed their bottoms. Her toes touched his, right after they’d gotten fully nude, and his abdomen clenched up, ready to support a thrust or to defend him from whatever was making him flinch like that. Well, screw that.

They kept kissing, making contact only up to their ankles, until Peter laid a cautious hand on her stomach.

“You want to keep going, right?” MJ asked, pulling back for a second. She’d tucked her arm beneath his neck and was systematically scratching her nails across every bit of his scalp, which was both comforting and erotic.

“For sure, yes, if you still do,” he babbled. He could feel her pulse hopping under his hand. He wanted to follow it down so bad.

“Alright then,” she said with a brisk nod, and grabbed his wrist to make his fingers stumble south.

Peter’s mouth fell open and part of him wanted to snatch his hand back because her expression was petrified. But then, it might’ve been that way because she was worried that he didn’t want to touch her like this, in which case removing his hand would make her feel way, way worse. It would’ve been good for him to ask for verbal confirmation here, but the part of his brain that put words together and held their hands until they’d successfully departed his mouth was broken right now. Because MJ had put his hand between the warmth of her thighs, allowing his fingers to graze and his palm to cover the intimate texture of hair. He could feel the questioning look on his face and, apparently in response to it, she piloted his hand a little lower, into the realm of the arousal she must’ve worked up grinding against him. His other hand clenched into a fist as his drive to be inside her swelled like his restless erection.

It was nerve-wracking, so much pressure not to touch her too lightly or too rough―and besides that, to make it somehow feel good for her. That he wanted very badly. Peter was out of his depth. That was when, as usual, MJ swooped in to lend him a literal hand without fuss. Her thighs parted further for him and, with her fingers directing his, he felt the soft creases and curves start to make sense. Gradually, he moved faster, dipped deeper, and nearly shouted victoriously when he accidentally flicked something that, by MJ’s sharp breath and the buck of her hips, was her clit. He ran his fingers across her entrance to wet them and flicked again, slowing to a tap, then a knead when she responded well (death grip on his wrist). Working up the nerve to probe his middle finger gently inside her came with a wealth of rewards: hitched breathing, her hand sliding precariously far down his abs, and a tight heat that his dick was longing for with more urgency than ever now that he knew precisely what it felt like.

Lying so that both his hands were down where he needed them to be wasn’t the most comfortable thing, but the way MJ gasped and then quietly moaned his name when he had the dexterity of extra fingers to offer her made it worthwhile. He could now continue fingering her from the inside while also pressing fingertips to her clit. Rewetting them after every few swipes made her gasp and writhe against his hands all over again. When she abruptly said, “Faster,” the finger inside her froze and he worked her clit double then triple time as she folded into him, forehead on his chest, and unceremoniously grasped his dick.

“You can’t do that right now,” he laughed, lightheaded. MJ’s fingers, fully around his erect penis. Avengers fucking assemble because this was not a drill.

At his plea, her hand darted to his hip instead, gripping even more firmly as, incredibly, Peter Parker (aka Spider-Man on a Train, aka Friendly Neighbourhood Third Baseman) brought her to orgasm. Her hips jerked and she made muffled hiccupping noises from where he couldn’t see her face and he thought to introduce a second finger to give her something to, holy shit, ride? He guessed? This was insane. Had the feeling of freedom from a school trip made this happen? Did people just get extra horny on trains? He was so glad the train company had fucked up Mr. Harrington’s ticket reservation to stick Peter and MJ in a single room for a night.

“We should,” she began, lifting her head with a blush of warmth and maybe self-consciousness after she’d sagged into herself and he’d removed his hands uncertainly, “discuss logistics.”

“Oh,” Peter said, surprised. “Oh, I guess, yeah. Logistics. Right.”

“What I mean is―”

He cut MJ off with a short kiss of determined pressure. Going straight into talking about logistics actually didn’t feel right, not when he’d just had her in his hands like that. This shouldn’t feel like business; it was affection. He really cared about her. Seeing and feeling and hearing what Peter had just seen, felt, and heard was monumental. Would she be his girlfriend after this? Should he ask her right now?

“Go ahead,” he urged with a smile, foregoing mention of the other stuff for the moment. It wasn’t business. They didn’t require a pause to agree on the parameters.

Plus, MJ was flustered now, which was amazing and adorable.

“I…” She trailed off when he found her hand under the sheet and held it. With a resolute tilt of her head, she took another run at her sentence, “I did not happen to pack condoms. Did you? Also, I’m not on birth control. I didn’t really know this was, um, going to happen.”

Peter kissed her again, for longer, at the vulnerable expression on her face.

“Me neither,” he promised. “Definitely a surprise.”

“So, you are equally ill-equipped?”

Instantly, he frowned.

“Technically, but it’s so harsh to say it like that! I’m not sure you would’ve been super thrilled if I had had condoms.”

“I would’ve been suspicious,” MJ confirmed, looking suspicious of him even as she spoke the words.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Do you think they sell them on the train?” Apparently, they were switching gears.

“I don’t know. Do you really want to be wandering around trying to buy condoms and have Mr. Harrington catch you though?”

“Hmm. Good point. So, what are our options?”

He was cooling down after the frenzy of getting her off and reflexively shifted towards her. The move made them both instinctually awkward, unsure where to touch and hyper-aware that their faces had never been this close before tonight. They were just existing with their faces close now, like this was their normal. Peter kept tight hold of her hand and basically willed himself to wade forward into talking this out.

“We could just not do anything else,” he suggested first, internally pleading with her not to go that route.

“Obviously, we can stop if you want to, but I’m kind of dying to see what you look like when you, you know.”

Peter was speechless for a moment.

“Uh, well, I mean…” He scratched the back of his head. “I could pull out?”

“And just… on the sheet?” She asked, avoiding his eyes (he assumed―he was kinda avoiding hers too).

“Yeah, then I’ll take it off and rinse it in the bathroom, we sleep on the top sheet and get that blanket―” He pointed to where one was tucked against the wall, ready for use. “―to put over us.”

MJ snorted a laugh.

“What is it?” he asked uneasily.

“I totally forgot we’re actually going to sleep together after this. You’re not missing the joke. That shouldn’t be funny, it just is for some reason.”

He grinned.

“Yeah, it kind of is.”

“You really bold-faced lied to Mr. Harrington, huh? The team should admire you. What a rebel leader you are. Don’t―” she added, raising a finger to his lips as he started to reply. “―say anything about Star Wars. I will definitely never have sex with you on a train again if you do.”

Peter shook his head.

“I’m not risking that.”

For a quiet minute, they adjusted their bodies to bring them even closer. He liked her eyelashes and how her mouth sloped naturally down at the corners; she seemed to be tracing the path of freckles across his cheek and over his nose.

“Do any of the people in that murder book have sex on the train?”

“Who cares?” MJ said. “They’re not real. We are.”

Their fingers slipped, only loosely entwined now, as their concentration returned to yielding kisses, lips moulding effortlessly together. Peter’s free hand stole up the back of her neck and when he shifted his weight subtly into hers, not even completely aware that he was asking, she answered, tipping onto her back.

“I’ll pull out,” he reaffirmed as her thighs were parting for his hips and he was positioning himself at her entrance by hand.

“I trust you, Peter,” she said in a nonchalant tone.

“I trust you.”

“It’s not a competition,” MJ complained and he let her have the last word because she’d probably said it out of the same nerves he was feeling as he eased the head of his dick inside her.

They both shifted slightly and settled. She laughed when he swore out of sheer bliss, pitching forward a little and drawing back, then he laughed at the sound of her laughing. Somehow, in all that, he ended up completely inside her and she pressed her hands to his back like maybe she really needed him and didn’t want him to go anywhere, even after the sex and the happenstance of a shared room. That would be really, really great.

The sex wasn’t perfect: for all MJ’s evident enjoyment, Peter didn’t have the inherent, untested talent or beginner’s luck to see her climax again and, of the two times she tried to kiss him while he was thrusting, she bonked their heads together on the first and brutally clicked their teeth on the second. They laughed some more. They were a mess. They were, possibly, each other’s.

He finished on the sheet like he’d promised and it felt wrong and gross enough that he’d be buying condoms before they did this again, but it also felt sort of hot the way MJ watched him pump doggedly through the circle of his own fingers until he groaned her name. The follow-up logistics were another mixed bag of sexy and unsexy. Peter threw his pajamas back on, bundled the sheet to his chest with the wet part deep in the center, and bolted to the bathroom to give it a hasty dip in the sink. But he returned to the sight of MJ remaking their bed in her PJs, complete with her sleepy smile. He figured out the light switch and crawled in beside her. Something unexpectedly tender in his chest squeezed when he learned that this tall, coolly critical girl took obvious comfort in being the little spoon. Her body went soft with his arm around her; he fell asleep with his nose and mouth resting against the back of her neck.

The alarm MJ had set on her phone got them up half an hour before they had to meet their team and teachers the next morning. First, Peter let his arm go slack so she could roll over to face him without leaving his embrace.

“Hey,” she said with her eyes barely open.

“Will you be my girlfriend now?”

He could only guess that she’d have given him a look that more clearly called him an idiot if they hadn’t just woken up.

“Yeah, ok.” was the response MJ went with instead.

Peter shook his head with bleary exasperation at how lukewarm her words were, but then she snuck her hand into his pajama pants and really damn quickly worked out how to give him a handjob. Long story short, they desecrated another sheet and were still on time for breakfast (only because they ran).

After everyone had finished eating and Mr. Harrington had delivered a heartfelt-yet-underwhelming pep talk for the day, they were sent back to their rooms to pack up their stuff. They’d be arriving in New Orleans within the hour.

“Are you disappointed there weren’t any crimes last night?” Peter asked with a smile as they repacked their luggage side by side.

“Well, I could say I stole your virginity,” she pointed out, nearly making him catch his hand in the zipper as he closed his bag. MJ gave him a sly sideways glance. “But virginity is a construct. And you were more than willing to give it up.”

She mercifully interrupted his ensuing stuttering with a kiss that he hoped would become a habit. (The kissing, not the stuttering.) His head was hazy with the idea as he jerked the clasp of their door and slid it open for the last time. To find Flash standing in the hall.

“’Sup, Penis, or should I call you ‘Big Easy’ after you two were somehow allowed to share a room?”

Peter stiffened, but he was hellbent on not giving anything away. He rolled his eyes and assumed MJ did the same as they pushed past Flash with their bags and opened the door to the vestibule. He sincerely, stupidly believed that dickhead was following them and that they were in the clear. But as he went to close the door behind them, he noticed Flash hadn’t followed. At Peter’s alarm, MJ joined him in glancing back into the car they’d just left. Flash had his hands braced on the doorframe of their compartment, leaning into the room.

“Wait a second! That other thing’s not a bed!”

The door closed. They stared at each other.

“Oh man, Flash is gonna tease the crap out of us. Do we run?” he asked.

“That’s a dumb plan.” She paused. “And I don’t have another one.”

Their oblivious classmates were emerging from their rooms and Peter and MJ jostled them thoroughly as they booked it down the corridor towards the front of the train.

#my writing #spideychelleweek2k20 #spideychelle #spideychelle fic #spideychelle fanfiction #peter parker #peter x mj #peter x michelle #peter parker x michelle jones #michelle jones

35 notes · View notes