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iliketangerines · 1 month

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hiii i loved 'keeping watch of you'!!! very intrigued in the noncon somnophilia concept,,, how do you think it would've played out if shang tsung did do it? feel free to decimate the dove here babe i know you can do it <3

keeping watch of you pt.2

a/n: i tried to decimate the dove

pairing: shang tsung x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI) noncon/drugging, somnophilia, pussy eating, handjobs, mentions of overstimulation, bondage

Shang Tsung stirs the pot, pouring himself a separate portion before adding in his potion that would be sure to knock you out for the night

you hadn’t arrived home just yet, having a long day trying to sell your fruits, but it just meant that Shang Tsung had time to work on his potion

he needed to fuck you, to feel you, but he didn’t want to betray your trust, not just yet

you both slept in the same bed, and he found it increasingly hard to keep his hands off you, to not hold you down and fuck you as you thrashed in his grip

but first, he needed to keep his trust, to have time to gather his power before he could keep you all to himself

Shang Tsung pours your portion of the soup just as you walk in, and he calms his feelings and turns around with a smile as he presents you with dinner

you give him a grateful smile and collapse onto the rickety dining chair as he puts your bowl in front of you and sits down across from you

immediately, you dig into the bowl, complimenting his cooking skills and drinking the soup eagerly as Shang Tsung blows off the steam of his bowl

he drinks slowly as you tell him about your day, and he watches as your words become more slurred, how your eyes droop, and your muscles relax

his plan is working perfectly, and when you say that you feel tired, he leads you to the bed, citing that you’ve had a long day and that you should rest

you try to complain, but as soon as your head hits the pillow, your eyes close and muscles completely relax into the bed as you drift off to sleep

Shang Tsung tries not to be too eager, that would be unbecoming, but it’s hard as he turns you on your back and strips you of your clothes carefully

he traces the edges of your body, memorizing the softness and the plushness of your hips, your thighs, your chest

you sleep soundly, completely unbothered, and Shang Tsung’s breathing grows more labored as he finally pulls down your panties to reveal your cunt

he spreads your legs on the bed and uses his fingers to spread your folds apart and rub small circles into your clit

your pussy clenches down on nothing and grows more wet, and yet you don’t even react

his potion worked perfectly, and a wicked smile overcomes Shang Tsung’s face as he strips himself of his clothes and settles in between your legs

he can’t leave any marks unfortunately, but he leaves soft kisses to the inside of your thighs as he continues to circle and tease your clit

your wetness slowly starts to gather on your pussy lips and drip down onto the sheets, and Shang Tsung leans his head forward to get a taste

his tongue leaves a long stripe on your folds before diving into your cunt and tasting your sweetness, and his hands go to grab onto your thighs, trying hard not to leave bruises in your skin

you’re so sweet, so wet, just from him touching your clit, and he wishes you were awake, to grab onto his hair and use your honeyed voice to moan for him

or maybe you would try and get away desperately, and he would have tied your hands to the posts and pinned your hips down as he got his fill of you

your screams and cries would be so sweet, so beautiful to hear, but it would attract the attention of neighbors

perhaps he would stuff your own panties into your mouth, the ones he loved to use to cum into when you were away

or maybe he would wrap a hand around your throat and keep you quiet as he stared into your eyes and used his other hand to stretch your needy pussy on his thick fingers

but for now, you’re asleep, compliant and needy for him without even knowing it, and he’s going to take advantage of the fact

Shang Tsung loses himself in the taste, moaning into your cunt and closing his eyes as he enjoys how your cunt clenches around his tongue and your thighs slightly tremble

there’s no warning, no long whine or arching back as you cum on his tongue, but he laps up your release all the same, panting into your cunt as he rubs your clit with one hand

he brings himself away from your cunt, as much as he wanted to keep on tasting you, to make you all overstimulated and puffy, he had a goal in mind

stripping off his clothes, Shang Tsung spreads your legs wide, grunting as he watches your pussy clench down on nothing, as if expecting him to fuck you

he wants to fuck you, to fill you with his seed and breed you and keep you all to himself, but it would be too obvious and set your suspicions on him

and so Shang Tsung settles for pumping his own cock, imagining it’s your hand rubbing his cock and your tongue kicking the tip

would he have to force you to like the taste, to swallow? or would you naturally submit?

he wants to break you so badly, make you forget the world and only have you worshiping him on your knees and sucking his cock

perhaps you would cry as you suck his cock, tears staining your cheeks as he grips onto your hair and holds you still as he fucks into your wet mouth

maybe you would try to touch yourself, and he would tie your hands behind your back and have you grind against his shoes in desperation

your tears would look so pretty, and Shang Tsung groans at the image, pumping himself faster and swiping his thumb over the tip to spread his pre-cum

he wants to fill you up, watch his seed spill out of you before fucking it back in, making you lose your mind and have you as completely his

you would struggle at first probably, but he would break you, tie you to the bed and make sure to tease you all day, never letting you come

have you cockwarm him and have no release as he fucks into your drooling cunt

or he would suspend you from the air with intricate ropes and make you cum over and over again, stuffing you with toys and coming back hours later to you passed out and crying

Shang Tsung looks down at your sleeping form and aims his cock down at your pussy, moaning lowly as he cums on your spread pussy

he watches as the white paints over your skin, staining you with his filth, but it’s such a delicious sight

he can’t help himself when he brings his fingers down to rub his seed into your skin, marking you as his whether you knew it or not

but, all good things come to an end, and he cleans himself up and wipes his remnants off of your skin before washing and drying the rag

after dressing you in the clothes you fell asleep in, he lays down next to you and watches you sleep until he also succumbs to tiredness

you awake with a loud yawn, waking up Shang Tsung as well, and you slightly frown, rubbing your thighs together, still wet and horny from only cumming once last night

Shang Tsung watches from the bed with lidded eyes as you get up on shaky legs and go about the day, mind a little unfocused and hazy

he knows why you’re so pent-up, but it’ll be his little secret until he can claim you

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levilxvr · 5 months

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aot characters and their favourite christmas activities

ft. levi, erwin, armin, eren, mikasa

cw: modern au, fluff

levi- christmas markets

he loves them and they’re probably one of the best ways to get into the festive mood. When it comes to the holidays, his favourite thing to do is drive around the towns and stop by at different christmas markets. It’s kinda like a little date as well, and you’ll spend hours walking along the stalls with him picking up every piece of decoration that catches your eye, tasting wine and getting customised gingerbread houses.

The highlight of the trip is always that one homemade tea leaf stand you visit every year. That’s where levi will be tasting every sample they offer, getting absorbed into the history behind the tea and all sorts of fancy stuff. By the end of the day the entire back row of his car is loaded with souvenirs from the christmas markets, along with a couple boxes of unique tea leaves. His favourite is the orange cinnamon blend- every night the citrusy, sweet scent wafts around the living room as he enjoys it while watching tv with you.

erwin- knitting matching ugly sweaters

ok look i have this headcanon that erwin loves to knit and crochet. It’s one of his love languages, making those cute little yarn octopi and whales that you can turn into keychains and all. But when it’s christmas time he goes full focus mode, spending days knitting ugly christmas sweaters for both of you to wear. Every year erwin does a different colour theme. Last year was red and neon green, this year you both agreed on dark green and white.

He likes knitting while you lie with him on the couch, your head resting on his abdomen as you cuddle his legs while he’s creating his sweaters. It’s also easy for him to gauge your size since you’re right there and he can just slap the material on your back. Hange always teases him for being all cute and sappy, putting in effort to make matching goofy outfits but he doesn’t mind. All that matters is that you’re warm and cozy.

armin- cookie baking

What better way to spend the christmas season together than to have a cookie date? Armin invites you over every year so you can bake with him. He’s got everything covered, basic ingredients, bowls, sprinkles, icing and toppings. It’s really therapeutic and peaceful, hanging out with him as you bake all sorts of flavoured cookies. He’s great in the kitchen and knows every recipe like the back of his hand- he can just eyeball the ingredients and they always turn out perfect.

His favourite part is decorating the cookies. Armin loves spending quality time with you alone like this, chatting about anything while you help each other spread icing and dump loads of sprinkles. The real fun starts when one of you splats icing on the other, and by the time the cookies are done being decorated the both of you are covered in basically everything too lol

eren- gingerbread house competitions

Eren buys those HUGE sets like the family sized ones- but one for each of you. According to him, the bigger the better. (ykyk) Oh yeah he likes doing those timelapses as well for fun to send to armin and mikasa once you’re done. Even though he says it’s just a friendly game, it turns into a whole chaotic scene when you’re in the middle of piping icing on the roof and his entire house collapses and cracks lmaoo he’d be so pissed

Then he starts blaming it on the gingerbread quality and pleads with you to let him do yours together instead. He’d be super sweet though, standing behind you with his arms round your waist while you’re putting the jellies around it. He’d be diligently handing you more fruit drops cuz you don’t trust him with your house after what happened. In the end he eats like everything and leaves you the door and one panel of the roof.

mikasa- building snowmen

she’s such a sweetheart. Loves building snowmen representing you and her in the yard, and wraps her scarf on one of them.

“that one’s you.” she points to the one with the scarf.

“shouldn’t that be you?”

“no, my snowman gave your snowman the scarf so yours can keep warm.” she wraps an arm around you and you reach up to kiss her cheek, already blushing from the cold. After that you continue making all sorts of snowmen for the others, stacking them together in a row along the fence so you can admire them every time you go out.

Before you head back into the house she stops in front of the two snowmen closer to each other, crouches down and draws a little heart on the ground. She smiles in satisfaction, because now they’re complete.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi attack on titan #levi x reader fluff #levi ackerman fluff #erwin smith #erwin x reader #erwin x reader fluff #armin arlert x reader #armin fluff #armin x reader fluff #mikasa ackerman #mikasa ackerman x reader #mikasa fluff #eren yeager fluff #eren yeager x reader #eren fluff #aot x reader

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that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction · 2 months

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Part 2 of the Merlin saves (tries to kill) Arthur fic

(I suck at naming stuff and I'm not putting more effort into the title than the actual fic.)

(Part 1) (Part 3)

—

When Merlin woke, fear coursed through him. Arthur, Gwen and Gaius were sat around him and he was pushed too far back into his own mind. He felt himself lunge at Arthur, hands aiming for his neck, all reservations about subtlety gone.

“Kill Arthur Pendragon!” Fomorroh screeched. “Kill!”

Merlin grasped at reality, fighting desperately again but loosing the battle. Something hit the back of his head and he collapsed again.

———

When Merlin awoke again, it was to only Gwen and Gaius, a smoke canister under his nose that made wakefulness rush through him alongside relief. The distant mantra of ‘Kill Arthur Pendragon’ still rang through his head but he was fully in control of himself.

“What is that? Arthur's socks?” He grinned, looking at Gwen smile in relief.

She stood and pulled the door open, Arthur was just outside looking anxious with a furrowed brow and red rimmed eyes.

“Arthur,” Merlin breathed, the king looked up.

“Merlin.” He whispered, standing and taking a cautious step closer. He looked to Gaius, “is he..?”

“Not permanently. It’s dormant for now, but that’s will only last a day.” Gaius said. He shivered at the thought of being dragged back under its control.

“Arthur, I’m so sorry,” he pushed himself into a sitting position on the workbench, cleared to act as a table while he was being treated.

“What happened?”

Gaius stepped forward and set a bowl of his favourite berries on the table. Merlin slid into the chair and frowned, trying to remember everything.

“The mercenaries, they were hired by someone I know. I can’t remember what his voice sounded like, but I remember knowing him.” He started, “I had my eyes closed so they’d think I was unconscious, the mercenaries were calling the man who hired them “my lord” too.”

Arthur sat down, “The traitor, do you think you’d recognise the voice?”

“Traitor?” Merlin asked, surprised Arthur was willing to think of such a thing.

“We were talking about it before you attacked me, do you not…”

He pinched his lips into a line and shook his head, “I remember fighting for control and using your voice to remind myself that we’re friends, that I’d never want to harm you, but I don’t remember what you were saying. Then… Fomorroh got way too excited about something, like the poison and the crossbow but I could sabotage it with that. It kept screaming in my head but I don’t know what happened next, the next thing I knew everything went dark.” He couldn’t figure out what happened after that.

“You broke free of the enchantment.” Gwen informed him. “Your eyes were gold, then you were shaking and you told us Morgana was controlling your mind with a Fomorroh and then said we should knock you out.”

“Gold?”

“Don’t think on it too much for now.” Arthur’s said coolly, “what happened after the mercenaries?”

Merlin nodded hesitantly, “I passed out for real, then when Morgana woke me up I was hanging from the ceiling by my wrists. She had a sort of… hovel? Like what Dragoon lived in but in the woods. Then she healed me, and knocked me out again. The next time I woke up, she conjured the snake and put it in my neck. Everything disappeared, like I was underwater but with the Fomorroh yelling that I had to-“ he looked down, glancing at Arthur and back to the half empty bowl of fruit on the table.

“To kill me.” Arthur filled in.

Merlin nodded.

“Do you remember anything else?”

He hesitated, thinking about what he could pull from the memories that didn’t feel like his own, “There’s a few things but none of them make any sense.“

Merlin shook his head, brow furrowed in anxious concentration as he tried to force the memories to surface without disturbing Fomorroh.

Arthur sighed, relaxing slightly and dropping his hands onto Merlin’s shoulders, startling him out of his thoughts by kneeling down to meet Merlin’s eyes, “You’re in no trouble, Merlin. You saved my life today, for that I’m in your debt.”

“Does that mean I finally get a day off?”he quipped without thinking.

Arthur huffed, “you can have a free afternoon after all this is sorted out, but we just want to know how to fix whatever Morgana did to you so.”

Merlin swallowed, feeling his cheeks heat. He’d seen Arthur’s charm turned on nobles and members of the court, even Gwen at one point before she and Lancelot married, but seeing it aimed at him was too much. He had no idea how to handle such a thing.

“Take a breath, and just… say whatever comes back to you.” He said, giving Merlin’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “We’re okay.”

Merlin took a breath, as instructed, and thought back to the time he’d been fighting against the snake.

“It would get excited whenever it thought up some plan.” He said, realising he’d said something similar before. “I couldn’t see much of what was going on, I could hear a few words when I got closer with fighting back into control but never anything important. Except for Morgana. I remember… when the knights found me, I didn’t understand why they sounded different than Morgana did. I could hear everything she said even with the snake.”

“You don’t remember what happened when we found you?” Arthur asked with a furrowed brow. The questions helped.

Merlin frowned and tried to focus. “Gwaine called me bog man. He was there, wasn’t he?” He hated how small and uncertain he sounded.

“It was me and Gwaine. Leon and the others had just got back from searching.” Arthur told him.

“You were there?” He asked, knowing Arthur wouldn’t lie but the memories all seemed just out of reach. “Fomorroh kept taunting me, telling me that you’d die believing you’d been betrayed. I managed to get a second of control then…” he frowned for a moment, trying to remember that moment it came back to him. The realisation ached, knowing what he’d missed.

“You hugged me,” he murmured.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I was happy to see you alive.”

“I missed it,” Merlin pouted. “The first time you hug me and I can’t even remember it, I had a second when you were pulling away but then it took over again. It was more careful after that, keeping me away from control.”

Arthur frowned at him, still knelt on the floor. Merlin almost forgot that Gwen and Gaius were there too, evidently it had slipped the kings mind too because he pulled Merlin forward and wrapped his arms around him. Merlin instantly melted under the warmth and safety of it.

His arms came up and held onto Arthur’s shoulders, fingers curling into his tunic and holding on like letting go would kill him.

“You actually hugged me back this time.” Arthur huffed in a whisper, breath landing on Merlin’s ear and their two heartbeats beating against each other’s chests.

“I’m so sorry, Arthur,” Merlin told him, tears brimming in his eyes and voice thick.

Arthur’s grip on him tightened. “You did nothing wrong. You saved my life, and did all you could.”

Merlin didn’t respond, only buried his face into Arthur’s neck, dampening his tunic with the tears that hadn’t fallen and breathing in the warmth.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice what was going on.” Arthur whispered.

Merlin shook his head, not knowing the words to say. Arthur apologising never even crossed his mind, he’d never thought about Arthur having something to apologise for.

“You’ve nothing to apologise for.” Merlin whispered, teary eyed and trembling. Arthur’s hands ran up and down his back, rubbing circles into his shoulders and holding him close like just staying there would keep Morgana’s terror away.

‘Dear Gods, please let me keep him.’ Merlin prays desperately to any forces or divine powers that still listen to him.

His grip loosens, his arms tighten around Arthur’s shoulders, palms pressing flat against his shoulder blades. Merlin knows, given any chance, he’d hold on forever and he would never let Arthur go.

But then Arthur pulls away and Merlin has to suppress a pained whimper at the loss. Arthur pushes himself up and sits on the bench beside Merlin, they’re pressed together, shoulder to shoulder. Arthur doesn’t move away and neither does Merlin, Gwen and Gaius are kind enough not to mention it.

———

Thoughts? There's maybe one or two more parts to come but honestly motivation is a struggle at the moment so please be patient

#bbc merlin #merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #guinevere #gaius merlin #merthur #merlin bbc #fix it fic #merlin fanfic #fanfic #angst and hurt/comfort #a servant of two masters #i’m bad at tagging

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jarviscockerssecrethusband · 2 months

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Billy discovered the Roman centurion lying on the floor of a public bathroom just outside New Jersey. Then he was almost stabbed.

It was Halloween so Billy assumed he was just drunk and really committed to the bit. He made quite a dashing Roman solider, with strong arms and calves Billy could definitely see himself getting behind (or kneeling for in a similar situation). After the fourth attempt to talk ending in loud angry Latin, Billy thought there was something else going on. Something bigger.

Walking into the nearest hospital after the centurion promptly collapsed, Billy found that the guy had absolutely no medical records, no birth certificate, no drivers licence and no passport. He continued to yell at anyone and everyone in the ER reception and promptly fell into the revolving doors.

Well, it seemed like Billy had accidentally gained a pet Roman for the foreseeable future. Great. At least he wasn’t as tentacle-y as the mind flayer had been.

Steve, as Billy had nicknamed him, was a piece of work. He made no attempt to communicate with Billy until the second week of them living together. Then he just pointed insistently at the grapes in the fruit bowl, like he expected Billy to feed them to him. Billy just chose to roll his eyes and let Steve throw a tantrum in the kitchen.

By the third week, Billy was starting to feel like the worlds worst Catholic for understanding absolutely not one word of Latin. Argyle had retained some knowledge and Billy found out that most of what Steve talked about was either his horse, his toga or his sword, which Billy had locked up in a cabinet.

He was also quite possibly the most flirtatious man Billy had ever met, and Billy had spent his late teens roaming the clubs of WeHo. Constantly squeezing Billy’s biceps or trying to climb into his lap. Billy couldn’t exactly say he was mad at it. He’d been having a pretty impressive dry spell apart from fast and disappointing hookups. Still, there was a part of him that felt guilty.

Steve could have a wife back in 2 AD or whenever he came from. Boyfriend. Whatever. It was a pretty weird fear to be having considering how consistently Steve had been coming into him but it stayed. Lingering in his brain. Like concrete.

Billy’s best and most exaggerated sign language didn’t help shit. Steve just briefly looked confused and then went straight back to flirting with him. Hard. That was a pretty good sign of what Steve wanted.

Then Billy made a mistake.

Steve had actually said Billy’s name for the first time. He’d been trying to learn English, if somewhat rudimentary and Billy liked to think, for him. There’d just been such a surge of emotion rushing through his head that he ran up, clasped Steve’s face and then they were kissing.

Then they slept together.

Shit.

It was really good but Billy had no idea where to go from here. Steve obviously thought they were a thing but how to clarify what thing exactly Steve thought they were when Steve hadn’t mastered much past, yes, no and pretty much every swear word?

But then he found himself looking over at Steve’s sleeping face, body wedged between Billy’s arms, and found that he couldn’t really make himself care that much.

Steve liked him. He liked Steve. Why worry?

They’d be fine

@hephaestn @bigdumbbambieyes I promised I’d tag you in my first ficlet after deactivating intothedysphoria, I hope you like it!

#billy hargrove #harringrove #steve harrington

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earthry · 9 months

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Papas Protecting The Reader (Headcanons)

Papas being protective, you can imagine any scenario you want for.

tw violence, tw murder, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, papas being protective

Primo is quick to respond— he whisks you into his arms and his ghouls descend on the man almost immediately. You softly sob against him as your heart drums loudly in your chest and he presses gentle kisses to your temple as you bunch your hands in the fabric of his robes. His voice is a low murmur, promising safety and love and reassuring that you’re okay, he’s got you. You’re okay now.

After you’ve calmed enough, he’ll caress your cheek and swipe his thumb to wipe your tears away. When he takes you home, he’ll run a hot bath with essential oils and salts and sit in the tub with you in his lap; your back against his chest. You are pampered the rest of your evening, Primo doting on you and taking moments to pepper you in kisses while you giggle. That night, You fall asleep curled against his side with his arms wrapped protectively around you.

Secondo snaps the man’s neck in seconds before carelessly shucking the body off to the side so he can cup his large hands around your face and comfort you, whispering in Italian that he’s here, you don’t have to be afraid. He makes sure you’re not hurt, hands traveling up and down your body to make sure there’s not a single inch scratched or bruised. Any blemishes on you are blessed with a gentle kiss from him with the most care.

Even if you’re in public, Secondo will let you cry on him, wipe your tears and snot on his shoulder. He’ll hush your sobs and carry you home, taking his jacket off and tucking it around your shaking form to shield you. He’ll read poetry to you for as long as you want as you lay against him in bed, dressed in only his oversized shirt and your underwear as pajamas. And when you’re sleepy and soft and pliant beneath him, his words will trail off with the realization you’ve fallen asleep and he will bend his head down to gently kiss your forehead goodnight.

Terzo slides his hand over your eyes to spare you the carnage as Omega begins to tear the man from limb to limb. One arm circles around your waist to pull you back against his chest, his chin slotting in the crook of your shoulder. Breathe, tesoro. I’ve got you. His voice is melodic and soft, a promise. He keeps his hand over your eyes while he slowly leads you from the scene, and when you’re far enough and his hand comes away, you collapse against him with a little sob and he catches you.

Getting home is a blur for you, but Terzo keeps your hand firmly grasped in his and it helps you breathe a little easier. You’ve completely lost your appetite for the night but regardless, Terzo tries to get you to eat by making you a snack. He presents you with a bowl of your favorite flavor of yogurt with granola and little fruits cut into cute shapes. He coaxes a few bites into you and eventually you relax against him and let him slowly feed you spoon by spoon, earning a smooch from him with each mouthful you swallow. When you’re full and he’s contented that you’ve had enough to constitute a meal, he’ll snuggle you up tight and let you lay on top of him. You rest your head over his heart and allow the calming rise and fall of his chest to lull you to sleep.

Copia for all the awkwardness and anxiety he exudes, is shockingly ruthless when it comes to protecting you. He has the man on the floor and doesn’t even blink as his foot comes down on the offender’s neck. There’s a sickening snap and he kicks the body with a furious huff before his attention is all on you. You’re trembling, biting your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as you try not to cry. Copia’s expression softens so much and he opens his arms up to you and asks if it’s okay to touch you, to comfort you. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you too much and well— he did just kind of kill a man right in front of you. Regardless of how he feels or how much he loves you he will always, always give you a choice. He wants you to be happy above all else.

To his surprise you run to him and melt into his arms, finally letting the tears fall. His voice becomes soft tones as he tells you that you’re safe now. He’ll always be here to protect you, to hold you. You nod fervently, soaking up his words like it’s a balm of some sort, letting them wash over you and calm you. When you get home you let his rats comfort you, their little paws scampering and falling over themselves to climb onto you and bury their little faces into your sweater. They squeak their own little comforts and you can’t help but giggle as their whiskers tickle your skin. You fall asleep warm and unafraid tucked against Copia’s chest, knowing he’ll always be there.

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ohanny · 15 days

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a very self-indulgent omega kim going into heat after being kidnapped kentakim hc because why not

so the basic premise is kenta and kim connected before the unfortunate basement throwing incident at tony's house. like kenta had to deal with red racing and kim was a flirt. it wasn't anything serious but it had the potential to be. there was always something between them but kenta kept drawing back and kim thought they’d have all the time in the world.

but then the kimnapping happens.

and kim is MEGA pissed, okay? kenta visits him in his dungeon room of doom all "fuck, i am so sorry, i warned you, i told you to stay away" and kim is like "oh fuck off" and kenta is all kicked puppy swearing he will help get kim out. and he does. he gets kim out of there but kim is still very much "bitch grow a fucking spine if you want to talk to me ever again. you're a coward. you know what you're doing is wrong and you are not doing enough. be better."

kim is shipped to alans and moves in and he just... keeps feeling like shit. he can't explain it until he realizes he's going into heat and fuck if it isn't a whole ass mess - pun intended - because he hasn't had one in a medically inadvisable time and he thought he was still in the clear, swallowing a fistful of suppressants the first chance he got after his kimnapping.

and it hurts. the entire pack is freaking out because a) kim is an omega???? and b) yeah nah that is not a normal heat. kim is feverish and doubled over in pain and yes he smells sickly sweet but emphasis on sickly. it's the sweetness of rotting fruit and not like oh yeah, slick and slide, and people are worried.

alan: someone needs to do something

sonic: i literally offered to knot him

alan: and?

sonic: he threw a glass at me.

north and jeff build him a nest like see, pack is here, but kim keeps hissing at them and saying it's all wrong and after a long weekend they are all this close to calling an ambulance and having him shipped into a heat clinic against his will.

but then there is a knock on the door.

it's kenta, looking agitated and stressed as fuck and alan goes full "oh hell no, not the time" but kenta physically forces his way through the door, nostrils flaring like a blood hound, and everyone is like "uh oh spaghettios" and babe is squaring up like bitch, he is ready to fight

and then kim stumbles down the stairs looking like absolute death and kenta might elbow someone in the face to break free and before anyone can interrupt, kim collapses against kenta and buries his face in kenta's throat with a whine and he's all "i really tried but i need -" and kenta's all "it's okay, you're okay. and you were right. about me. about everything" and he will just full on garfield scoop kim up.

the pack stands there like "um excuse me, what the fuck?" and kenta pretends this is all fine and normal and asks where the bathroom is and if someone could prepare them some food. babe is still ready to deck the bastard because fuck him but then his nose scrunches because oh. okay. that's less rotting fruit and more like burnt sugar all of a sudden and alan is like "OOOOOKKKAAAAAAY" and sonic's like "bathroom's upstairs, third door on the right, i'll make you a fruit bowl?"

north: dude. that's kenta.

sonic: you wanna try pry kim off of him?

north: good point.

and then north smiles and says “you know what kenta, i'll show you where everything is” except when north gets close to them, kim peeks out of kentas neck and bares his teeth at north because excuse me, his alpha, how dare you.

kenta carries kim upstairs to first draw him a cold bath to get his fever down and makes him drink a glass of water and in the midst of it kim has a moment of clarity.

kim: fuck. i didn't meant to call you. you can go.

kenta: you really think i could leave you alone like this?

kim: but what about -

kenta: he doesn't know where i am. i’ll figure it out after.

kim knows he should fight this but he has no energy to do so anymore. he’s in pain and exhausted and can't do this alone and having kenta here, touching him, is such a relief. it’s much easier to just give in. kim drifts in a pleasant haze as kenta washes the smell of sickness away, towels him off and bundles him into a bathrobe to carry to his nest.

when sonic brings over his fruit bowl, kim is splayed out on the sheets, flushed and staring at kenta with these dazed eyes, already pretty far gone. it's a bit awkward as another alpha but he hands over the fruit and backs away. he lingers in the doorway long enough to see kenta very gently coax kim to eat something from his fingers before quietly closing the door and going back downstairs. and that's how sonic becomes the number one kenta advocate because he's a sucker for a good love story and obviously this is something that's been going on for a while and it would be criminal to separate them now.

he tells the rest of the pack that everything’s going well and they need to make a plan because kenta sure as shit will need them to have one ready by the time kim and him re-emerge.

#pit babe the series #kentakim #kimkenta

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artbyblastweave · 2 years

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Once again, I’d like to discuss my proposal that we formally abolish the Nuclear Family. There was a brief window in history where this arrangement made sense; but each passing year demonstrates that it’s increasingly untenable. It’s a toxic, patently artificial construct, and it’s slowly destroying our society. Whatever nostalgic attachment we have to this can’t continue to elide the fact that every time. Every single time the Fitzsimmons uncork that stupid hermetically-sealed lead-lined bunker they “live” in and crawl out to try and live like people do, the collateral damage is enormous.

Our lawns are barren at the corners where their 2.5 kids cut across in their rush to get to the playground, which, incidentally, FEMA has informed us won’t be usable by humans for about 10,000 years- which would in turn be a real problem if local childhood leukemia rates weren’t holding at a steady 97 percent, for some mysterious reason. You can tell when Ms. Fitzsimmons has just gotten done at the grocery store from the slew of half-dissolved clerks and stockboys draped over every surface, collapsed backwards into once-pristine displays of cans, the shift manager hanging out of the half-donned radiation-suit-turned-body-bag she wasn’t able to get into in time, all of their molten, unwound DNA leeching out of their pores and mingling with the scattered, trampled produce. Mr. Fitzsimmons made a surprise appearance at league night; I’d heard rumors he was thinking about coming, So I’d double layered myself in radiation suits done up in the colors of my league team, the Flailing Wildcats. But none of the other teams stood a snowball’s chance in hell. In his last moments of lucidity before his eyes ran out of his head, Don Cadwell got off a couple shots with the illegally owned rifle he kept behind the shoe return, but Fitzsimmons, like always, was able to reflexively refocus the intensity of his ground-zero emanation effect to mostly vaporize the projectile, with only a few loose drops of superheated metal speckling his flaccid, rubbery skin and running down it like tears.

So the two of us stood there, me limply holding my lucky striker bowling ball as the other three members of the wildcats voicelessly writhed and puttered out around me, staring through two tawny-orange, clouded panes of plexiglass at this distorted figure of our collective unconscious, this Levittown-reject atomic afterbirth standing guilelessly confident in his infuriating, calcified pastiche of mid-century masculinity, cob pipe clenched between ramrod-straight teeth, hair sculpted like wax fruit, sweater-vest and button-down shirt infuriatingly crisp. And I felt my breath, hot on my own face, as he looked at me in turn, his face locked into a vacuous idiot grin plagiarized from Rockwell. He released a heartly-delivered, vapid loop of canned, inaudible small talk from between his teeth, oblivious to the withered limbs clutching plaintively at his slacks as he approached the ball return. He looked at me with those eyes that aren’t eyes, how could they be eyes, eyes wouldn’t survive residency in his head- he looked at me with the inhuman substitute eyes the doctors had put into him, housed in substitute flesh suited to the inhabitant of the only future his bitter, desperate makers could entertain. And as I stared at him I felt a depth of hatred I didn’t know I was capable of, a hatred that would be monstrous if directed at a feeling person, a hatred that you can only direct in good conscience at an idea. And what was he, if not an idea. If not the idea of a man who was once called Simon Fitzsimmons, if not the idea of the world to come, the world that we thought we deserved, the world we thought deserved him.

And in that moment, I resolved that in the name of a world worth living in, I would bowl against him to the last so that he wouldn’t win the tournament by default. But then he kicked my ass because it turns out you can’t bowl for shit wearing fifty pounds of plastic and lead. It drapes weird and you can’t keep a grip on the ball. Thank you for your time.

#microfiction #my writing #thoughts #shitpost #horror #absurdism

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mybeingthere · 7 months

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Birdie Lusch (1903–1988) was a self-taught artist who worked for most of her life at an assembly line in a ball-bearing factory in Columbus, Ohio, and made art out of found materials and repurposed household articles such as fruit crates and potato sacks. The selection of her paintings, sculptures, and collages shown recently at Kerry Schuss was of uneven quality: some works appeared simplistic or overwrought and others sophisticated and clear-eyed.

The collages (all untitled and all but one ca. 1977) were among the latter. Made on Hallmark Cards sales catalogue pages, they are variations on a single theme: one, two, or occasionally three vases with flowers against a white background. The vases and blossoms are composed of magazine clippings, while the tabletops on which the vases stand are indicated by marker scribbles. In some pieces, several lines of printed text and a Hallmark logo are visible behind the imagery, and a rectangular frame that once held a card sample now resembles a picture or window in the back of the depicted space.

Despite the limited means, the collages have a remarkable spatial complexity, with the push and pull between the drawn lines, printed text, and colorful cutout shapes producing Cubist-like visual oscillations—an illusion of depth momentarily opening up and collapsing again. Fragments of the original imagery cropping up in the cutout pieces strengthen or disrupt the figuration. In one image the vase is fashioned out of a black-and-white photograph showing three gazelles frozen in place against the night sky; their long necks and legs create a rhythmic pattern that seems to twist around the vase’s rotund body. In the same work, images of a tomato, a pillow, and a bowl of rice are deftly employed as red and white blossoms. There is a strong modernist impulse in the collages: the methodical exploration of slight variations in a predetermined format, combined with the mundane subject matter, demonstrates the artist’s deep engagement with the mechanics of pictorial organization. But the main attraction of these works lies in their fine balance between a rigorous, experimental attitude and an easy playfulness and humor in the artist’s handling of found imagery.

https://www.artnews.com/.../aia-reviews/birdie-lusch-62429/

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imagine-knowing-a-name · 1 year

Text

So... you're a bat

Summary: You move to a new town for work, you need a house... you didn't expect a housemate to come with it.

Pairing: Vampire!Natasha Romanoff & Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 2462

Warnings: Mentions/hints of past murders

A/N: Hello everyone I actually managed to write :) It's just a nice fluffy fic with vampire Nat being a cool housemate! Hope you enjoy!

(and also my fics haven't been doing so well since I keep disappearing and reappearing, so any reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!)

—————————————————

The house viewing was pointless; moving across the country for work - on a minimal budget, you were just looking for anywhere to live, no matter the condition. And this was your only option. A house that was being sold for cheaper than any apartment’s security deposit; it was practically free, and from the viewing, you could see why.

A dilapidated mansion on the verge of collapse, the stairs had fallen in years before, so there was no access to the upper floors. Windows were smashed, floorboards were rotten, and some ceiling tiles were non-existent. No wonder the real estate agent looked so surprised to hear you take it on the spot.

What could you do? You didn’t have the money for anywhere else. And this mansion had one redeeming quality in that its front room had been done up by a previous homeowner, redecorated and fully insulated to make it livable. When you wondered aloud why they had stopped at just that room, you were shut down, the agent insisting that was a question you didn’t want answered.

Off-putting, to be sure, but you left it at that.

—

There wasn’t much for you to unpack; the single livable room was fully furnished and decorated within the day. Almost everything you needed, packed into one place. It wasn’t really that different to a college dorm, and you’d survived that before.

A chill hit you the second you opened the front room door, making you hesitate in the doorway. It would be so cosy to stay in the warmth, but instead, you braved the cold, final box in your arms.

Creaks echoed around the frame of the house with every step you took; it felt like they would echo forever – until another gust of cold wind rushed through the windows to smother any other source of noise.

With it came an even higher-pitched squeak, and flaps of wings came startlingly close to your ear. You turned just in time to see a flash of black graze past your face.

You yelped and stumbled, only just maintaining your hold on the box and keeping your balance.

When you regained your stability, you glanced in the direction the flapping had gone. A bat stared back, perched on the exposed house supports.

Bats in the attic. Another of the many mentioned issues that came with the property; this was just one you’d forgotten about. They were most likely the reason the house hadn’t been torn down decades ago, and why repairing the house was such a difficult task. How could you not disturb them in a place like this?

The bat had watched, unblinking, through your whole musing. You darted your eyes back to it, then ducked your head and carried on to the kitchen, shutting the door behind you.

—

You crossed paths with the bats constantly; each time they would brush close then stare – pure black eyes, unblinking in their gaze. It was creepy, and you learnt to stop walking around in the dark, when flapping wings and grazed touches would be the only indication of where they were.

Still, if the bats weren’t leaving and you weren’t either, it seemed the only solution was to take care of them.

You searched for their diets; results indicated insects, fruits, or even blood - depending on the species. It was informative, but with one issue. You hadn’t a clue of the species.

That was how you ended up with a bowl of berries in one hand and a bowl of beetles in the other, climbing up the rickety stairs on your elbows and knees. It was one of the worst ideas you’d ever had. There was no railing for you to hold, and you wouldn’t trust any one of the steps with your full weight, not after two instances where the stairs crumbled into dust underfoot. It became even more of a crawl the further up you got, but you were determined to get there and finally managed, both the bowls and yourself left intact.

Once again, the bat sat patiently at the top, having watched the entirety of your slow ascent. You wondered why you only ever saw one at a time. Did they take turns coming out? Or was there only one? TV always showed them in groups but you had no idea, pop culture isn’t always the most reliable source.

“This is for you,” you told the bat, setting both bowls down. You’d give it a day to see which one was preferred. At least you’d have use of your hands the next time you scrambled up.

—

“NEITHER?!”

Both bowls remained full. The bat had inspected it. You’d watched the bat inspect it. And it had taken nothing.

“If you don’t like berries or bugs then what do you eat?” you mumbled, gathering the bowls back up.

“While the berries are preferred, my palette is actually a bit different.”

You really couldn’t be blamed for screaming. Which was then drowned out by smashing ceramics, which you also couldn’t be blamed for. The sudden voice startled you and your body’s reactions kicked in, taking control of your actions to drop everything and flinch forward, away from the voice.

The upper level wasn’t prepared for such a forceful step, and suddenly the environment blurred, everything looking like it was shooting up… or you were falling down.

“Oh. oh, shi- I’m so sorry!” the voice rambled, “I didn’t mean to scare you!” It has a body now, a redheaded woman. She had rushed forward and caught you, stopping a potentially deadly fall.

You paused. “You snuck up behind me. In my house. And didn’t mean to scare me?”

“I forgot you could understand me.”

“What does-”

Before you could even ask, the woman decided to show you, morphing into the ever-watching bat before your eyes. This also had the effect of removing her arms, and you dropped to the floor once again. The thud echoed.

The woman morphed back into a human, just to gape at you. When you groaned, she raised a hand to cover her mouth. “I’m-”

You waved her off before she could apologise. Yet she continued. “It’s been a while.”

“I’m a vampire.”

“It’s fine.” You stood up slowly, clutching your chest as you did. “So… you’re a bat.”

“Oh… would you prefer blood then…?” You mentally slapped yourself. Why was THAT your reaction to a vampire in your home? They were creatures you thought belonged to fiction. And seeing someone turn into a bat was definitely not a regular occurrence. Was it offensive to ask if she wanted blood? A stereotype maybe?

“Blood would actually be much better, yes, but I have my own sources.”

“Thank god for that because the beetles were hard enough to source.” Speaking of, they’d been on the floor before you fell… you really hoped there weren’t squished beetles stuck to your back. Your cheeks started to heat with embarrassment, what if the vampire’s first impression of you was just falling and having beetles squished into your back?

“Um… I would like to apologise about the stairs though. They’ve been falling into disrepair for centuries and I’ve been meaning to get them fixed. When you can fly upstairs though it’s easy to put it off, then people keep moving into my house and I couldn’t do it without exposing myself, and I guess the years just slipped away.”

“It’s fine, I’ll just stay in my own bit downstairs and then-... did you say this is your house? Um, is it okay that I’m living here? It’s just that someone kind of sold it to me and I have no money or-”

“You have been a gracious guest so far, I see no reason for you to leave.”

“Thank you then, I’ll stick to my own areas and leave you some privacy in your own home.”

She nodded, and you turned away, cautiously approaching the stairs.

“Oh, and Y/N?”

“You know my name?”

“Of course. I’m Natasha. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

—

Vampires had messed up sleep schedules, you learnt that one fairly quickly. Every few minutes another thud reverberated outside your window, almost shaking the house with the weight. You checked your phone; it was 4am.

You didn’t even bother getting changed. Only one person would be up at this time, and if she was going to wake you so early before your alarm, she was also going to get the worst version of you: tousled hair, cartoon pyjamas, and so sleep-deprived you would fight a bear if it meant you could go back to bed.

When you opened the front door, there Natasha stood, in just a vest and jeans, on the back of a pick-up truck. Where she got the vehicle was beyond you, but it was filled with dark oak wood planks, and she was lifting several trees’ worth of it at a time, dropping it down onto the floor to produce the bangs that woke you.

“NATASHA…uh… I don’t know your last name.”

She smirked. “Romanoff.”

“NATASHA ROMANOFF, IT IS 4AM! What on earth are you doing?”

“I didn’t want to risk you hurting yourself on the stairs now you live here, so I thought I’d fix them.”

“I’ve lived a lot of lives.”

“By yourself?”

“Can you at least let me sleep first? I’ve got to be up in 3 hours for work.”

“Right, yes. I forgot about those things. I’ll wait. See you later, Y/N.”

With that, she flew off, while you rubbed your eyes and returned to your room. Did she even have a clock? You should get her a clock.

—

Graciously, Natasha did wait for you to awaken before she continued, and by the time you left the house, she had moved on to hauling the wood inside.

Upon your return, the stairs were near completion; the redhead had a drill in hand, securing the final few steps with remarkable speed.

You didn’t even register the ‘wow’ that came out of your mouth until Natasha turned, grin widening to see you home.

“You like it?”

“How-? I mean, yeah! It looks amazing! But it’s been like, ten hours?”

“Practice enough and you get faster.” She shrugged.

“That much faster?”

“Well…that and vampiric super speed.”

“Oh-”

“It’s cute that you believed me though,” she said with a smirk. You grumbled at her smugness, her arms were stretched over the step behind her and a playful grin adorned her face.

“You were nicer as a bat.” You teased, sticking out your tongue. Your confidence did not come with the same ease as Natasha’s seemed to - leading you to exhale far too heavily when she laughed, relieved that it hadn’t pushed the boundaries of your newfound friendship/living situation.

You noticed Natasha raise an eyebrow, but she didn’t question it further. She just kept up her smile until you began to walk away - at which point she called out for you again. You spun on your toe the second you heard her, looking up quizzically. She wasn’t in the same spot. Before you could even narrow your eyes at the –now vacant– spot, Natasha reappeared in front of you, followed by a characteristic rush of air.

“Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” The vampire apologised, paying little concern to how far back you’d jumped. “The stairs just need to be finished and uh, I was wondering if you wanted to join me? It’s nice having someone to talk to again.”

You smiled. “What do you have for me to do?”

—

The stairs were a massive improvement; your one-room house suddenly became a whole mansion for you to explore. Which, admittedly, meant more issues for you to find. Natasha had done centuries worth of dusting though, so at least they were clean issues.

But broken floorboards, collapsed ceilings, smashed windows…there were a whole host of issues, and had you friendly resident vampire not been there to help, you might have just smashed the staircase down again and ignored it all.

As it were, you did not destroy Natasha’s hard work. The vampire saw the stress in your eyes the second you made it upstairs, so she volunteered to repair the house as best she could. She’d acquired a whole host of skills over the years, so her work would save time, money, and the hassle of hiring builders. And she’d enjoy it – she reassured you of that.

It took over your lives for the next few months. When you weren’t at work, you would be helping her, though, with Natasha’s speed, she still ended up doing at least 90% of the work. But she seemed to enjoy the company and praised your small achievements, so that was enough for you.

When it came to housemate bonding activities, you had to say, the standard drinking games didn’t come close to completely remodelling a mansion together. She could tell you the history of every room, the moments she’d spent in there, the functions, even down to the original decision on wallpaper. It was fascinating, and offered an insight into how Natasha once lived: regal and rich and respected enough to own an enviable mansion. And now she spent her days hammering floorboards into place with the broke, graduate, housemate she had acquired.

You asked her then if she missed it; the parties, the customs, the people.

Natasha hesitated, casually holding the entire wall frame upright as she paused to think. “No,” was her simple answer. “I’ve lived too many lives for far too long to miss them all. I learn from them, I enjoy the memories, but I move on.”

You both fell quiet, silently returning to the build. How long had it taken Natasha to stop missing the past? You had a couple of decades of memories, and even that was enough for you to miss and grieve the past, but she had centuries. Lifetimes of experiences also meant lifetimes of loss.

“This, though.” She interrupted, “This will be a memory I enjoy. It’s been a long time since I’ve made one of those, so thank you, Y/N.”

“I’m glad I met you, Nat.”

“And I’m glad I didn’t drain your blood.” She grinned, fangs on display.

You sighed. “Ever the affectionate, Natasha.”

—

It was interesting, to look back on life and see what might have been. Natasha advised against it, and given her experience with life perhaps she was right, but you couldn’t help it. One house viewing, accepting the least hospitable house you’d ever seen; had led to this. You owned a mansion now, restored to its full glory and craftsmanship. And you’d gained a friend in this new town, an immortal housemate, like it was no big deal.

So many memories for the future you to enjoy.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #vampire!natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff & reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff & y/n #marvel #mcu

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wolveria · 1 month

Text

On Frozen Wings - Ch 4

Pairing: Crosshair x Hunter

Rating: 18+ only, Explicit

The squad settle on Pabu in a more permanent way, and Crosshair sends some very confusing signals (until he doesn't).

AO3

Hunter’s struggle to wakefulness was slow, a pleasant heaviness on his limbs, his surroundings soft.

That… was unusual.

He opened his eyes, taking in the dim room, gently lit with the morning glow behind drawn curtains. That was the second thing he noticed. The first, he was in bed alone.

Crosshair’s scent was at least two hours’ old, and Hunter sighed into the pillow. His body ached pleasantly, his sluggishness suggesting he’d slept a full night. Couldn’t remember the last time he did that.

The rest of him might be half-asleep, but his cock was at full attention, remembering what had happened before collapsing into the soft bed.

Frustrated, he got up and forced himself to dress finding whatever he could in the drawers, which ended up being an eggshell-colored top to match the trousers, along with a pair of dark undershorts. His old clothes and armor were gone, even his boots missing, and he could only surmise Crosshair was the reason.

After taking a leak and washing his face, giving up on trying to make his hair manageable, he stepped outside. Hunter breathed in the morning air, savoring it. He never got tired of the salty breeze, alive and warm in a way the Kaminoan sea had never been. Still, something about it was… comfortingly familiar. A better version of home.

He leaned against the railing, admiring the waking bustle below, but he wasn’t alone for long.

“Hello!”

He’d heard her coming, but he still blinked slowly at the girl smiling up at him, a bowl of fruit in hand.

“Morning,” Hunter greeted, unsure. “Sorry, Crosshair isn’t here.”

“Oh, I know.” Lyana smiled at him sweetly, as if she found his slowness amusing. “This is for you.”

“Me?”

“Mmhm.”

She offered up the bowl, and he had no choice but to take it. Hunter stared from her to the innocuous-looking fruit.

“You… knew I was here?”

“Of course!”

She offered no further explanation, and Hunter was afraid to ask.

“Thanks.” His response was warmer this time. “Say hi to your dad for me. Oh, and I might come by later, see if he needs anything while we’ve got some downtime.”

“Will do! Bye, Mister Hunter!”

With a cheery wave, she disappeared around the corner. Hunter shook his head with a faint smile of sympathy for Shep. Omega was growing out of her energetic hurricane stage, but Hunter was more than a little apprehensive about soon having a teenager on his hands.

At least, he wouldn’t have to raise her alone.

Hunter didn’t know when Crosshair would be back, so he slipped on a pair of sandals that fit surprisingly well, and headed off to the Marauder, bowl in hand. He didn’t plan on eating but ended up sneaking a few pieces for himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been actively hungry.

Omega and Wrecker were gathered at the lower gangplank when he found them, preparing to go down to the docks.

The hound was also there, and she hopped up and bounded toward him, forcing Hunter to dodge to the side in her effort to get at the fruit.

“All right.” He laughed and patted her head crest. “Settle, girl.”

“She’s just excited to see you,” Omega said, and then gave him a curious once-over at his different clothing. “You were gone all night.”

“Ah… yeah…”

Hunter had no idea what to say, how to even start explaining whatever this thing was with Crosshair, and he looked at Wrecker in a wordless cry for help.

“Uh,” Wrecker said, as equally elegant. “Wherever it was, you look good! Er, well-rested! Yeah!”

Omega frowned at them both, and it was a little unsettling how the expression looked so much like a certain sniper.

Wrecker rallied as best he could, rubbing Batcher’s side where she’d flopped down next to him.

“Oh, yeah, thought I should tell ya. Crosshair left your stuff here before he took off.” He made a face. “We spent all morning at the cleaner tryin’ to get our gear scrubbed. I swear, I can still taste that place.”

Hunter winced, both at the remembered odor, and at the thought that Crosshair had let him sleep in when he should have been helping.

In fact, it was starting to feel like Crosshair was avoiding him again.

“Took off? Where?”

Wrecker shrugged, and then got to his feet since Omega was done packing their supplies for the day. Wherever she went with Wrecker, whether to help out or explore, she always took snacks enough for him and Batcher.

“Probably where he always goes,” Wrecker added with a thoughtful look.

Ah. That would mean a hidden cove and a harried AZI.

“Right, thanks. For that, and for taking care of our gear.”

“You got it, Sarge.”

Wrecker sent a little lopsided salute, and for some reason that set Batcher off, huffing excitedly and running around his legs, and she was joined by a smiling Omega waving goodbye to him.

Hunter returned it with a lift of his own hand, and once they were gone, he frowned up at the Marauder. Sure enough, his gear was inside, the clothes folded next to the armor pieces, cuirass, and helmet. By the way they were neatly creased, he could guess who had folded them.

He should put them on. They needed to be ready to don their armor at a moment’s notice, prepared for any situation.

He just… didn’t feel like wearing it today. Tomorrow he would, and the day after that. But not today.

Hunter left the armor behind and went off in search of the cove that Crosshair had taken to as his firing range.

But… Crosshair wasn’t there. And there wasn’t any sign he’d been there that day, either.

Hunter briefly considered searching him out—there were only so many places he could go on a small island—but he dismissed it. He needed to break this habit of trailing after him, and if Crosshair really wanted to find him, he would.

Besides, he’d already offered his time to Shep, and whatever the man needed done would be a good distraction.

It was, it turned out. Shep greeted him with his usual warm cheeriness, and his compliment at Hunter’s casual wear was enthusiastic enough to make his cheeks warm.

Huh. Between Wrecker and Shep, Hunter might actually believe he didn’t look half-bad.

Hunter didn’t need to worry that he would go the entire day without his sniper. He spotted Crosshair down at the eastern docks while on his way to pick up a couple of shipments of green Gabaki leaf.

Crosshair didn’t notice him, too focused on his own task where he sat on the pier. Hunter couldn’t tell what he was doing at first, but when he got closer, he spotted the basket of loose fiber twine, and the way Crosshair meticulously threaded and tied the strands together until they formed a taut rope.

Hunter had no idea where he’d learned to do that. Maybe he just had. The movements were fluid, graceful, and Hunter paused to watch, mesmerized.

At one point, Crosshair faulted as his right hand inevitably trembled, but instead of clenching his fist and frowning in an inward turn of frustration, he loosened his fingers and took a breath. Hunter watched, amazed, as Crosshair waited for the trembling to subside before he continued his task.

Seemed whatever Omega did while they were gone had helped, and Hunter’s lips tugged upward at the thought.

As if he could sense anyone having a nice thought in his direction, Crosshair narrowed his eyes and looked up.

Hunter quickly turned away, and with a large food trolley rolling down the boardwalk to block his view, he wasn’t sure if Crosshair had spotted him. By the faint, tingling pressure at the back of his neck, Hunter guessed he hadn’t succeeded.

He didn’t want to distract Crosshair from his work—that’s all. He didn’t feel… unsteady about last night. It had been nice. Felt nice, too. And falling asleep next to Crosshair had been the most natural thing in the galaxy.

He just wasn’t sure how Crosshair felt about it, and that was new. There was a time he thought he knew how Crosshair felt about everything.

Forcing his thoughts back to the task at hand, Hunter handed the woman at the dock the bag Shep had given him. From their feel, they were jewelry or shells and beads, and it wasn’t unusual for such trades on the island. The economic system on Pabu relied on goodwill and gifts, rather than any kind of currency.

Hunter balanced the two crates of green Gabaki on his shoulder, his next stop the infirmary to drop off the medicinal herb. He didn’t mind the walk, the chance to learn more of the island and enjoy the fresh breeze, but he wasn’t sure about some of the looks he was getting. Most people ignored him or gave him a polite nod, but more than one person stared at him for longer than usual.

He frowned. Had he worn something he shouldn’t? Something against etiquette, or wrong for the season or time of day. There didn’t seem anything particularly special about his clothes, just that they were thinner and looser from what he usually wore.

The answer wasn’t forthcoming, and Hunter tried to put it out of his mind as he continued his tasks. He didn’t run into Crosshair the rest of the day, though once in a while something tugged at the back of his neck, a familiar feeling of being watched.

For lunch he stopped by the house, only to find it still empty. Hunter tried not to let that fact bother him, and he spent the rest of the day between running errands and checking in on folks who might need help—people who lived alone, were older, or had medical issues.

Hunter also stopped by the house the former clone cadets shared. Stak, Mox, and Deke were all settling in well, better than he would have thought, but they were still young. They hadn’t had a lifetime of being told their only use was to be a good, obedient soldier. And Hunter was grateful for that.

They certainly seemed more excited to see him than Omega and Wrecker were. Not that they minded Hunter there, they were just doing fine without him, combing the island for whatever treasures they could find (seashells seemed to be the choice of the day). Hunter felt a little like the odd man out.

With a small smile, he realized that was exactly it. His family was settling in, genuinely this time, and they didn’t need him hovering over them like an overprotective gundark mother with a den of cubs.

It was a nice change, but still unfamiliar. He should… be fine with it. Not being needed.

Well, perhaps there was one thing left he could do.

That night, after having an extensive conversation over dinner with Shep, Hunter approached the Marauder, trying to fight down the grin and keep his face neutral. Wrecker, Omega, and the hound were there, having just finished their own meal. He felt a little guilty he hadn’t eaten with them, but it was for good reason.

Still no Crosshair in sight, but he couldn’t hide forever. After all, Hunter knew where he lived.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Omega turned to him, halfway up the gangplank and fighting a yawn, and she fixed him with a confused frown. Yeah, he could definitely see the resemblance.

“To… bed?” she tried. Even Wrecker was giving Hunter a look like he’d missed something crucial.

Hunter’s lips twitched, but he kept his sergeant-serious expression.

“Grab your stuff,” Hunter said, arms crossed as he looked between them. “Both of you.”

Now they both looked a little concerned, and he shouldn’t find this as amusing as he did. But he had to get his kicks somewhere, and they’d forgive him when they saw what he had planned.

Wrecker must have seen something in his eyes, because suddenly he grinned—he’d seen that pretend-sternness before, usually right before Hunter presented them with some new weapon or detonator, courtesy of the Republic experimental weapons division.

It’d a long time since Hunter had a reason to gift them with a surprise, and with any luck, this one wouldn’t explode.

Wrecker’s enthusiasm immediately infected Omega, and she went bounding into the ship ahead of him, both of them a whirlwind as they grabbed their meager belongings. They had to travel light while living on a ship.

Hopefully… that would soon change.

After they both left the ship, Hunter pressed a button on his comm to retract the gangplank and close the hatch. Omega watched with a questioning look, but Wrecker was far too eager to pay much attention, and the hound caught on to the joyful air, huffing and dancing circles around them.

Hunter winced a little. He’d forgotten to mention Batcher in his conversation with Shep, but he figured the man knew she was inseparable from Omega. It would be fine. Probably.

He led them down the wide stairs that wrapped around the upper portion of the island, and then along one of the upper ledges where several smatterings of huts were dotted around in clusters.

One stood off alone and higher than the others, and Hunter noted the light was on inside. His stomach fluttered, but he didn’t lead them toward that house, instead guiding them to a larger one that was nestled against the wall. It was close to the path winding to the other hut but gave enough distance for privacy.

It was perfect. He could only hope the others thought so as well as he opened the front door and stepped aside.

“Go on,” he finally said when neither of them moved.

The two shared a glance, as if two children unsure if they were allowed to open a present set before them, and Omega finally asked, “Whose house is this?”

“Well…” The corners of his mouth twitched. “Ours. At least, it can be, if we want—”

He didn’t finish before the three of them, hound included, rushed inside.

Hunter followed at a slower pace, his smile no longer hidden. He leaned against one of the inner walls, just watching as they scoured the place. He’d stopped by that evening to make sure it would even fit them all, and it would. It had been their good fortune to be empty at the time, the previous family having moved to a hut closer to the docks.

Hunter sensed it before he heard anything—a familiar presence behind him, electrifying enough to cause the back of his neck to tingle.

“They seem happy,” Crosshair drawled, his tone almost bored as he leaned inside the open doorway.

Hunter gave a small grunt, his eyes purposefully forward.

“You gave me the idea, actually.”

“Is that so?”

His tone might be flat, but Hunter could hear the curiosity poking out from underneath.

“Yeah. Figured if we’re going to stay here… then we should stay here.”

“No more foot halfway out the door?”

Hunter glanced over his shoulder. Crosshair had him in his sights with his full attention, and Hunter swallowed.

Crosshair was asking about much more than just the housing situation.

Before Hunter could answer—and perhaps point out that he wasn’t the one who kept vanishing—Batcher loped into the room, skidding to a stop just before Crosshair. She sat on her haunches and wagged her tail with sudden good behavior.

Crosshair’s face softened, and he patted the hound on her head. She gave a happy, canine grin and stood up just to plop against his legs, silently begging for more head pats. Hunter hadn’t realized he could be envious of an animal.

“Crosshair!” Omega crowed with equal delight. “You’re here!”

“Of course I am,” he answered, as if there was no other option. “I could hear you halfway down the mountain.”

Hunter winced. Fair enough, they had to work on their volume now that they had neighbors, Crosshair being one of them.

Omega frowned.

“Wait, there’s only three rooms. What about Crosshair?”

When Crosshair didn’t immediately answer, Hunter glanced at him and was met with a raised brow, one that asked, You didn’t tell her?

Hunter winced again, and—all right, he didn’t mean to withhold information, it was an old habit. He should have mentioned Crosshair’s place. He just… hadn’t.

“He has his own house, up the path.” Before any other questions could be asked, Hunter added, “And the third room isn’t for me. It’s for Echo. He can have a room of his own when he visits.”

Omega frowned further, mirrored by Wrecker, and she asked the next question that froze Hunter in place.

“So… where will you be sleeping?”

He found himself without an answer, his brain unhelpfully refusing to supply words. Instead, he looked at Crosshair as if for help. That was his first mistake.

Crosshair’s eyes sparkled.

“With me.”

Well, he hadn’t saved Hunter, so much as he’d slackened the line he’d tossed and let Hunter dangle further down the cliff.

“He means, I’ll be staying at his place,” Hunter supplied weakly.

“Oh.” Omega looked between them. “So, you have lots of rooms too?”

“No. Just the one.”

Crosshair wasn’t even bothering to hide the mirth in his voice, and Hunter’s face had started to heat, grown worse when Wrecker’s brows rose in a way that meant he understood a little too much.

“All right,” Hunter interceded when the silence grew too long, “go on, unpack what you need for bed. You can stay up—not too late.”

He knew that instruction would be flouted by the poorly disguised innocent expressions, but that was all right. They deserved an all-nighter if it meant they got to enjoy their new living arrangements.

“And… Batcher can stay inside too?” Omega asked, hopeful, as if worried this was all a trick that would be taken away at a moment’s notice. Hearing her name, the hound joined in, and both of them stared up at him with big, sad eyes as Omega hugged her around the neck.

Hunter sighed. Just because he knew he was being manipulated didn’t make it any less effective.

“Yeah. Course she can.”

Omega’s face brightened in triumph, but she quickly tamped it down with a contrite look that didn’t fool anyone.

“And… Lyana can come visit? Maybe even stay the night?”

“If it’s fine with Shep then it’s fine with me.”

“Deke, Stak, and Mox?”

Hunter hesitated this time. He had first-hand experience with the mischief young clones could get up to, whether or not they were still technically cadets.

“…Yes to visiting, no to sleeping over.”

“And Phee?”

Hunter again hesitated. There was a time where he’d rather have thrown himself into the ocean than listen to one more of her tall tales. But… after everything that had happened, and the home they’d made here, Hunter considered her one of them now.

“Yeah,” he said softly, “and Phee.”

Omega launched herself at him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

He blinked down at her before resting a hand on her head. She’d grown so much while they’d been separated—she came up to his chest now, and he didn’t know what to think about that. So much time lost with her, and Crosshair, and…

“Thank you,” she said, and the words tugged at a soft spot in his heart. He returned her smile and gave a nod of acknowledgement. When she detached herself from him, Hunter’s vision was suddenly filled with Wrecker, and he barely had time to prepare when the bigger clone picked him up in a crushing hug.

“Yeah, thanks, Sarge!”

Hunter made a small noise, all he could do with his air cut off, and Wrecker set him down with a large grin. Well, at least he’d gotten out that annoying crick in his back.

As the two excitedly unpacked their few belongings, he watched with a sense of lightness he hadn’t felt in a long time.

And then he got that feeling again, the tugging on the back of his neck. When he turned to look, Crosshair didn’t bother to hide the fact he was staring.

Staring was a mild word for how Crosshair burned a hole through him, and the laser focus distracted him from the hand that encircled his wrist. Hunter was pulled out the door before he knew what was happening, but he followed along in the dark, willingly.

Hunter was barely inside the house before Crosshair slammed his palm over the locking mechanism. The door slid shut behind him, and Hunter was crowded against the door, back hitting the surface.

And then Crosshair was on him, greedy lips his neck as his hands roamed with a fervor that jolted Hunter’s hips.

Crosshair’s smug smirk was imprinted against his throat as he pressed him further against the surface, his armor a cruel barrier against Hunter’s loose clothing and suddenly sensitive skin.

He made some kind of noise, temporarily losing the ability to speak, and Crosshair took it as a sign to continue. Hunter didn’t realize what he was about to do, even when Crosshair dropped to his knees, his brain finally catching up when he pulled his pants and undershorts around his thighs.

“Cr-Crosshair,” he choked. “You don’t have to.”

Crosshair hummed thoughtfully, and then while meeting Hunter’s eye, he dragged his tongue along the underside of his painfully hard cock.

The sound punched out of Hunter was so unlike him, a desperate, weak whimper, and Crosshair grinned like the nexu he was.

“Oh, I know.” Crosshair continued to run his tongue over his cock, little kitten-licks that would make Hunter confess to anything if this suddenly became an interrogation session. “But the way you strutted around in that outfit all day—”

Hunter whimpered again as Crosshair dragged his tongue over the dripping head of his cock.

“Strutted?!” His indignation was lost as he groaned.

“Mmhmm.” Crosshair gently sucked on the head, and Hunter swore he could have seen stars. “Showing off that ass like you’re begging to be bent over the nearest surface. Which… if that’s what you want, you could just ask.”

Hunter made another pathetic noise as Crosshair took more of him into his mouth, and it was an uphill battle trying to follow along with his words while he was being sucked into that wet heat. Stars, he wasn’t going to last long like this.

When Hunter didn’t give any sort of intelligible response, Crosshair pulled off his cock. The sniper frowned up at him as Hunter blinked, and his head cleared a little.

“…What?”

Maybe not that clear.

Crosshair frowned further, but there was an uncharacteristic softness in his eyes.

“How do you want it?” Crosshair asked, and the unusual softness was in his tone too. “Me inside you? Or do you want to fuck me?”

It was like laying a table full of sweet cakes and fruit pies in front of Wrecker and asking where he wanted to start first. He was frozen in indecision—everything sounded damned good, and it was almost impossible to make what felt like an important choice with Crosshair’s mouth so close to his weeping cock.

“I… donno,” Hunter finally admitted. “I just want you.”

“Mmm.” Crosshair’s hum wasn’t helpful, his hand slowly massaging the base of Hunter’s cock even less so. “Ever received a blowjob before?”

Hunter blinked.

“You mean… other than right now?”

Crosshair’s low laugh sent a bolt through his already tense groin.

“Oh, this? This is nothing.” And as if to prove his point, he dragged his tongue around the head, threatening to buckle Hunter’s knees.

“Th-then, no. Never had one.”

The look in Crosshair’s eyes was downright dangerous, predatory and sharp.

“Good.”

It was all the warning he got before Crosshair descended on him. He took his cock into his mouth and hollowed out his cheeks, at the same moment his hands stroked and pulled Hunter’s length, every part of him at Crosshair’s mercy.

Crosshair focused on his mission like he would any other, with an inhuman amount of focused patience and lethal determination. It was all Hunter could do to brace against the door and not lose his footing completely, though at one point, one of his hands found its way to Crosshair’s head.

Hunter hadn’t realized how much he needed touch until recently, and he cradled the crown of his head, running his bare fingers over the short stubble. He suddenly missed the silver strands and the opportunity to run his hand though it like this. Crosshair never would have let him do this back then. He was pretty sure of that.

Though with the laser-focused determination on his cock, Hunter wasn’t sure of much. Whatever this was with Crosshair, it didn’t feel like a new, fleeting idea he was entertaining on a whim. It felt like a starving man finally given food after years of neglect.

Hunter’s whine was punctuated by a shout as Crosshair cupped his balls and gently kneaded them, and with a further nudging of Hunter’s thighs, the sniper found what he was looking for.

He couldn’t get very far going in dry, but the pressure of Crosshair’s finger against the pucker of muscle was enough to arch Hunter’s back, and with a warning that was little more than a strangled whimper, Hunter came.

Crosshair didn’t pull away or relent, instead swallowing everything Hunter gave and milked him for more. Tears prickled in his eyes at the overstimulation, but Crosshair wasn’t satisfied until his balls were empty and nothing else would come out of his sore, twitching cock.

Hunter tried to catch his breath, one hand still on Crosshair’s head. He expected the sniper to slink away, make some snide comment before rebuilding whatever defenses he’d had to let down for this.

But Crosshair stayed where he was. Hunter experimentally cupped his face, and Crosshair leaned into his palm like a lonely animal starved for attention.

Hunter continued to hold him like that, enthralled by the soft absence of tension on Crosshair’s face, his eyes closing as Hunter stroked a thumb along his cheek. It was… sweet. Really sweet.

He didn’t quite know how he wanted to go about this yet, but he was beginning to. He wanted to make Crosshair feel good. Not out a sense of guilt or obligation, but it did have to do with the complicated history between them. An apology and a promise. Making amends in a very unconventional way.

Hunter could have stayed like that forever, especially when Crosshair rested his cheek against his thigh, skin warm against bare skin. But then the sniper decided there was too much peace going on for his liking, and he leaned forward and dragged a lick across his soft cock.

Hunter twitched, and when Crosshair did it again, he knew it would take only a few more strokes of that wicked tongue to make him hard again.

“Crosshair.”

“Mmm?” He sounded completely unbothered by Hunter’s tone of warning.

“You gonna let me return the favor?”

Crosshair gave another lazy lick, this time along the junction between his length and his balls—and yeah, Hunter was about to have the most sensitive hard-on in his life if he didn’t stop this.

He managed to drag the lanky sniper to his feet, and instead of receiving an expected snarl, Crosshair just gave him a faint, smug smirk. There was also an interesting haze of pleasure to his eyes, as if he’d been the one coming down someone’s throat, not Hunter.

But when Hunter reached for his codpiece, the pleasurable haze disappeared and was replaced by stubbornness, and he batted Hunter’s hand away.

“It’s not about favors, Hunter.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said with his own frustrated huff. Why was it Crosshair’s damn lot in life to make everything so difficult? “But I… but you need…”

Crosshair raised his brows, and Hunter blundered his way through his increasing difficulty in talking.

“That’s twice now for me, and you haven’t come at all.”

The eyeroll was more dramatic than it needed to be, in Hunter’s opinion.

“I’m not accruing orgasm debt, Hunter. It’s fine.”

Hunter scowled at any definition of fine where it ended up with him getting mind-numbing attention and Crosshair got nothing at all.

And then Hunter looked at him closer. Crosshair genuinely seemed fine, but that edge of need was still there in his scent. He clearly could use some relief, but he was pushing back and maintaining he didn’t. How long could he keep that up? Why was being stubborn about it? Why didn’t he just ask—

Ah. That’s why.

Hunter’s eyes narrowed, and Crosshair’s own smug look faded away, replaced by suspicion.

“Fine,” Hunter eventually said, though he wasn’t going to leave it at that. Not by a long shot. But since Crosshair’s wary look was becoming more and more intense, he added, “At least take your damn armor off so we can go to bed.”

The wary look remained for a moment, and then his expression shifted, a small tug on his lips as his eyes glinted.

“You like me in my armor,” he purred. “Don’t pretend you didn’t eye me up when I first put it on again. Like you were starving, and I was a tasty piece of meat.”

Hunter’s face fused with heat. So, yeah, seeing Crosshair in his old armor had been both a punch to the gut and a confusing rush to his groin. In fact, he’s fairly sure that’s what had set him off, to seek out Crosshair and demand answers as to why he had returned. Though in hindsight, that hadn’t been the true question—it had always been about why Crosshair had left them. Never about why he’d come back.

Hunter had hoped the once-over he’d given the sniper under his own helmet had gone unnoticed. Apparently not.

And yes, Crosshair on his knees before Hunter, fully kitted out, was a memory vivid enough to make his head spin, but that was beside the point.

“Yeah, well, I don’t need that pauldron blade stabbing me in the eye,” Hunter grumbled, but it was all harmless fluff. An excuse to give Crosshair a stern side eye so they could both pretend this wasn’t another new, strange step.

He was going to get to sleep next to Crosshair. Every night. In an actual bed.

The last few months of his life had been the worst, no contest. There had been moments when he hadn’t seen it getting any better.

And then it had. And here they were, in a place that Hunter could easily see himself calling home.

He must have taken too long to strip off the rest of his clothes, because a presence suddenly leaned against his back, Crosshair resting his chin on his shoulder in a way that was somehow both devious and adorable.

“You really have no idea,” he said, as if they were continuing from another conversation. “The amount of people staring at your ass today.”

As if there was any question of the subject matter, he grabbed a handful of Hunter’s backside, and he nearly squeaked. Thankfully he hadn’t, but the high-pitched moan that came out wasn’t much better.

“And how would you know?” Hunter asked in an attempt to recover his dignity.

Crosshair seemed uninterested in shame or decency as his teeth clasped on the shell of Hunter’s ear, lightly nibbling.

“Because I was also watching your ass, as you damn well know. Unless your senses have dulled over the years.”

He scowled, though the effect was lost with Crosshair at his back.

“They haven’t.”

And then Crosshair moved away, and Hunter’s shirt was pulled over his head before he knew it, and the sniper was herding him toward the bed. Crosshair was stripped down to his lower body glove, and when had he done that? Hunter must have been inside his own head longer than he’d thought to miss Crosshair removing all of his armor and half his suit.

Hunter also wasn’t used to being pulled from those moments of blankly gazing at walls, not with Echo off with Rex, and Wrecker too anxious to snap him out of it. But Crosshair had never had a problem with politeness or decency when it came to Hunter.

He proved that now by practically bullying him into bed, and before Hunter could think to complain, the inviting softness of the blankets shut him up. The faint scent of Crosshair lingered on the sheets, and Hunted wanted to bury himself in them for that reason alone.

“So,” he mumbled as he settled in, “you like the clothes?”

Crosshair clicked his tongue against his teeth, but when he joined him on the bed, Hunter pulled him close like Wrecker used to with Lula. He made a noise of complaint that might have been a hiss, but Hunter ignored it and tugged him closer, resting his chin on top of Crosshair’s head.

The sniper eventually gave up, the defeated sigh leaving him in dramatic fashion, but he still looped an arm around Hunter’s waist, his breath warm and comforting against his neck.

“Yes,” Crosshair finally relented. “They look… nice.”

High praise from the sniper.

“Good to know.”

Something was still missing, and Hunter scooted his legs forward until he could intertwine them with Crosshair’s.

“Happy?” he drawled. “Any closer and I’ll be inside you.”

Hunter let out a laugh that was so low it was nearly a rumble.

Yeah. He was happy. And he would be even happier once he figured out a way to convince Crosshair that Hunter wanted to make him feel good. He’d only been successful the once, and he’d caught Crosshair in a vulnerable moment.

He couldn’t rely on that happening again, nor did he want to. But something else tugged at his mind about that moment. Crosshair would never ask Hunter for help. Not directly. He could find a way around that. He had years’ experience navigating Crosshair’s particular way of doing things, after all.

And they had nothing but time.

Next Chapter

#on frozen wings #crosshunt #crosshair x hunter #cloneshipping #the bad batch #tbb spoilers #tbb season 3 #wolveria writes

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widodiangelo · 2 months

Text

"Are you a vampire?" “Oh my god. That is not the question I thought you were going to ask.”

See, here’s the thing. Will was a smart man. He was in med school. And even with the taxing workload of school, he still loved to read. And his favorite things to read? Horror and dark folklore.

That surprised most people, but Nico found it endearing. And Will was glad, because this was one hyper-fixation he was sure he’d never get over. And so he couldn’t quite tell if he was making it up when he saw lights flicker as Nico walked by them– on more than one occasion. Or that the air felt noticeably colder when he became stressed or mad. Or that he was eerily silent when he moved, or how he hated being out in the sun for too long.

This is all by way of saying: Will wasn’t dumb. And there were some things about his boyfriend that, when combined, created some interesting theories.

Will totally did not think his boyfriend was a ghost. Or a vampire. Nope. Well, maybe? No.

…..

Nico stepped out of the shadows onto the soft carpet of his living room floor and promptly collapsed over his old couch with a groan, one hand still on his earpiece. “Annabeth. You said this one was a simple shade.”

“It’s not my fault someone flagged the wrong file.” Annabeth retorted.

“I’m sorry Nico!” Percy’s voice rang from Annabeth’s side of the line and Nico couldn’t help but smile at the sound of what he could only assume was Annabeth flinging a book at her boyfriend’s head. “It’s fine. Just–” Nico replied, hissing a little as he shifted and got a better look at the gash in his side. It wasn’t concerningly deep– but he should probably take care of that. “That was a little close for comfort.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just a scrape. I should go bandage it though.”

“Alright. Call if you need anything.”

“Bye.” Nico clicked his earpiece to end the call and stood up from the couch with a groan, reaching to take his hair out of its messy ponytail. He turned toward the kitchen and froze with his hand in the air. Because standing in his kitchen, holding a half eaten bowl of fruit loops, was his boyfriend, mouth open and eyes wide.

Oh shit. “Will?” Nico asked, panic rising in his throat. How much had he seen? “Why the fuck are you here?”

Will swallowed, willing his mouth to close. “Um. I was out of fruit loops. More importantly– what was that?”

“I–” Nico started, but immediately his vision began to swim. Great. Just great. He wasn’t sure if it was from the shadow travel or from the blood loss, probably both, but either way his eyes rolled back into his head and his body swayed. Will barely had time to rush forward and keep him from smacking his head on the floor as his body went limp.

….

When Nico regained consciousness no more than a few minutes later, he was laying down on the couch and his boyfriend’s piercing blue eyes were staring at him with deep concern that was bordering on panic. Fuck. He tried to sit up with a wince, only then noticing that Will had his hands pressed on the wound at his side, trying to stop the bleeding.

Nico studied him, honestly surprised he was still there. He didn’t look scared of him. He looked scared for him. “Dammit, Nico, what did you do? This is going to need stitches. We should go to the hospital. Or, no. I have a kit in my apartment. That would be faster–”

Under different circumstances, Nico would have let him ramble. He loved seeing Will in doctor mode, if he was being honest. But considering he was currently bleeding out on his living room couch, other things unfortunately had to take priority. He placed a light hand on Will’s arm, stopping him short. “There’s a small brown bottle in my nightstand drawer.” He said. “Get it for me? I’d do it myself, but…” He looked pointedly at the blood dripping onto his floor.

Will looked at him like he’d grown an extra head. “Um, what?”

Nico’s mouth formed a thin line. “Just trust me, Will.”

They shared a long look before Will sighed, muttering something about him being the most stubborn person he’d ever met, but stomped toward Nico’s bedroom anyway. He returned a moment later, bottle in hand, and handed it over.

“Thank you.” Nico took the bottle and took three large gulps, swallowing roughly. The effects were almost immediate, and Will watched before his eyes as the wound began to close. It was nowhere near fully healed, but at least Nico was no longer bleeding. Will’s eyes widened. “What… is happening.”

Nico made a face as he took another swig. The taste of this stuff was never his favorite. “Unicorn drought.” He said simply, like that explained everything. He sat up with a groan, expecting his boyfriend– probably soon to be ex-boyfriend– to freak out any second now and get the fuck out of there. And probably never speak to him again.

Instead Will studied him. He looked confused and surprised, sure. But where Nico expected fear or disgust, he saw a hint of curiosity.

Will was silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, it was absolutely not what Nico was expecting: “Are you a vampire?”

The question caught Nico completely off guard and he did something Will had rarely seen him do. He doubled over laughing.

Will watched, frozen, as his boyfriend clutched his stomach, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes from laughing so hard. Nico gasped for breath. “Oh… oh my god. That is not the question I thought you were going to ask.”

The initial shock was starting to wear off now, and Will pinned him with an unimpressed look. “I just saw you materialize out of darkness then magically heal what looked like a stab wound in under a minute.” He responded.

Nico looked up at him through dark bangs, a sparkle in his eye. “And that says vampire to you?”

Will seemed to consider this. “Well, yes. Also, there are no mirrors in your apartment, I’ve never seen you sleep, and I think you may be allergic to sunlight.” He said, counting off each reason with a raised finger.

Nico laughed again. Clearly his horror-nerd of a boyfriend had already put a lot of thought into this. “Yeah, okay. I suppose that’s fair.”

Will glared at him. Or, as much of a glare as the boy was capable of, which was not much. “I still haven’t heard an answer.”

Nico smiled. “No, Will. I’m not a vampire.” He didn’t elaborate.

Will raised an eyebrow. “Okay. Are you going to explain this to me, then? Or should I just keep listing things until I guess correctly?”

Nico placed his mysterious bottle on the coffee table. “That could be kinda fun.”

“Nico, I swear to god–”

“See, now we’re getting somewhere.” Nico cut him off with a smirk. He was enjoying this way too much.

Will fought the urge to punch him. Even though the unicorn… stuff seemed to have helped he didn’t think attacking his boyfriend minutes after he’d been leaking blood all over the place was a good plan. “What, god?” He asked, half joking.

His boyfriend shrugged.

Will’s eyes widened. “You’re a god?”

Nico crossed his arms. “Styx, no. Just… half of one.” He said the last part carefully, studying Will’s reaction. “A half-blood. Half mortal. Half… not.”

The gold-haired boy sat up straighter. “Styx. That’s from Greek mythology.”

Nico smiled. “Well done, nerd boy.”

“Don’t call me that. You expect me to believe you’re half Greek god?” Will said incredulously. Part of him absolutely did not believe this. But a much larger part of him was almost giddy at the possibility.

Nico averted his gaze, his smile melting. There it was. The disbelief, the annoyance. Why had he expected anything else? “Look, if you wanna leave, I get it.” He fidgeted with his skull ring, unable to bear watching his beautiful, wonderful boyfriend realize he’d been dating a monster.

But Will reached out a light hand and softly, gently, took his chin, lifting his gaze. “Nico. I’m not leaving. Unless you want me to?”

Nico shook his head, eyes wide. Will smiled. “Good. Because I have questions.”

Nico’s eyes flicked back and forth, looking for any hint of hesitation in his boyfriend’s eyes. He found none. He felt the tension in his shoulders relax a bit. “Shoot.”

“How exactly does this work?”

The corner of Nico’s mouth turned up a bit. Nerd. “Just like the myths. Sometimes the gods come down and have relationships with mortals. We’re the product of that.”

Will’s brow furrowed. “We?”

Nico nodded. “Yeah. The gods have a lot of kids. You remember my friends in California– Percy and Annabeth?” Will nodded. “I met them at camp: where people like us train, learn about our heritage, all that shit.” Nico paused. “Oh also my co-worker Jason.”

Will’s eyes widened. “No way.”

Nico’s smile grew. “Way.”

He could almost see the gears turning in Will’s head. “And your… godly parent is…?”

Nico tensed at that, and Will backtracked. “Sorry. Am I not supposed to ask that? You don’t have to tell me–”

“No no, it’s okay.” Nico cut him off. “Sorry it’s just… my dad’s not exactly the most popular at camp. Or on Olympus. Or anywhere, for that matter.”

Will’s gaze softened. He waited patiently for his boyfriend to continue. Nico twirled his ring. Once. Twice. He swallowed roughly before answering, his voice almost bitter. “...Hades. You know, king of the Underworld? All sunshine and rainbows? Super fun time?”

Will was silent beside him. Nico looked up from his ring, expecting to see disgust. Instead, he was met with a blinding smile. “So what you’re saying is, vampire wasn’t too far off.”

Nico’s anxiety melted away immediately and now it was his turn to look at his boyfriend like he was the crazy one. Will was something else. “That’s your reaction? Really?”

Will shrugged. “You remember who you’re talking to, right? The horror nerd?” He ran a hand through his golden curls. “I just learned my boyfriend is the prince of the Underworld. This is awesome!”

Nico let out a light laugh. “You are so weird.”

“Says the son of Hades.”

“I should not have told you this.”

Will grinned. “No going back now, death boy.” It was then that the events of the night came rushing back to the older boy and he frowned. “Do children of Hades often come home with stab wounds? Also, how the hell did you just, appear, in your living room?”

Nico sighed. “Okay first of all, do not call me death boy.”

Will’s smile returned a smidge. “Unlikely.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “What you saw was shadow traveling. And no, I try not to get stabbed if I can avoid it.�� He replied, trying for humor.

Will gave him a look, and Nico caved. “Okay, okay. Sometimes, when mortals do something dumb like a seance, they get enough pieces right that it actually works. So, Than and I have to go clean up their mess and banish whatever they conjured before anyone actually gets hurt.”

Will’s eyes widened. “Than… as in Thanatos? Holy shit.”

Nico smirked. “Not that holy, actually.”

Will actually did punch him lightly in the shoulder that time and Nico laughed. “They’re usually not that dangerous. I just went into this one unprepared. Annabeth usually gets me some research on a new case if it’s going to be something more difficult than a simple shade. Turns out this last one was more… demonic than we expected.”

Will’s eyes sparkled. “Oh my god. You’re a real life Dean Winchester.”

Nico looked at him in confusion. “Who?”

Will laughed. “Oh I have so much to teach you.” He pulled his legs up and turned to face Nico, sitting cross-legged on the couch, practically vibrating with excitement. Nico watched him fondly. “But first, I have so many more questions.”

#nico di angelo #pjo #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson #annabeth chase #jason grace #supernatural #fic prompt #solangelo #will solace

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bangtaninborderland · 3 months

Text

RISK IT ALL (26) - Old Friends

Genre: Chishiya x f!reader | eventual smut | angst

Warning: none for this chapter, there is mentions of stitches and wounds though!

A/n: I uploaded this on wattpad first, if you see this there then great but if not then enjoy!

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Sleep hadn't been something you could grasp much of over the course of the night, every time you rolled over you woke up, worried about hurting Chishiya.

Chishiya had groggily asked if you were in pain but you simply brushed his worries off, silently laughing at the man who once claimed to dislike you in every way possible worrying about a meagre bullet graze.

You spent most of the day alone, Chishiya only rousing as the sky became a dusky gold. "You didn't wake me."

"I figured you needed rest." You mumbled, spooning canned fruit into two separate bowls. "You should be in bed."

He hobbled slowly over to the chair, sitting down with a groan. "It's fine, exercise helps."

"You'll rip your stitches open." You argued back, sliding the bowl across the table along with a spoon.

"Here I thought I was the doctor." He attempted a laugh foregoing it when it sounded more like a cry of pain. "I will go back to bed after this."

"Thank you." You hid your smile behind your spoon. "Did yo-

The door knocking cut you off, your eyes widening. "Who?"

"I don't know." He whispered. "The window, check out the window, stay low." He instructed.

Wordlessly you slipped from the chair, crouching low as you peeled back the curtain just a fraction, your body going ecstatic with joy at the sight of the people outside the door. "Oh my god."

You ignored Chishiya's questions of "who" and "what" as you tumbled over yourself in a rush to open the door.

"Fuck I'm so glad to see you." You were pulling Kuina and An into your arms ignoring the slight shooting pain the action sent tingling down your arm. "How are you here right now?"

"Someone got a message to us that Chishiya had been hurt, didn't take us long to find the place after it happened." An examplained. "Where is he?"

"Through here." You guided them through the house, Chishiya making a sound of surprise at the sight of them both.

"Why are you here?" He scowled, pushing away his empty bowl.

"Oh, my dearest friend how I missed you." Kuina laughed, relaxing into the empty seat. "You got hurt."

"Attacked but I'm fine." He rolled his eyes, making to stand only to collapse back in his chair with a groan. "Fuck."

"Let me have a look." An offered. "You know I know how to deal with injuries."

"I'm fine YN stitched me up."

"Thought you said I wasn't a doctor." You interrupted, the fight from Chishiya fading as he noticed the serious look in your eye. "Just please let her look."

"Fine only if it gets you to shut up about it." He spits, you try not to feel sad at the way he returns to being spiteful as soon as there are others around you but you can't help it, a subtle frown fitting over your face.

You sit at the table as An and Chishiya disappear towards the bedroom, Kuina waiting until they are both out of sight to talk to you. "How are you? Has he been treating you okay?"

"He's been fine, I don't know why he's acting like this now. We've been through a lot, when the shooting happened my arm got hurt, just a bullet graze." You added at the newfound worry in her look. "But he took care of me, he was kind, we spoke, grew closer."

"So you're okay?" She asks again, just for good measure.

You muster a smile. "I'm okay. What about you?"

"It's been..." she huffs, biting her lips to hide a smile. "Fine."

"Oh come on." You laugh. "Spill."

"When the shooting broke out me and An ran together, and ended up hauled in a caravan hidden in the forest, we kept moving but when we heard the gunshots getting further away we made a break for it here, we weren't followed. We see Arisu and Usagi, he wasn't doing too well." She rubs a hand up and down her arm, and you notice the holes in her clothes, probably from all the running.

"Was he hurt?" You asked, slightly relieved as she shook her head. "Emotionally not great, I think some of us handle it all better than others."

"I hope I get to see him again, he was kind to me." You hated the beach but you were grateful for those it brought to you, the idea of going back to the regular world without them made your heart ache in ways it shouldn't. "Have you been managing to eat?"

"Not much, it's not been safe to go out. The caravan had a weird stockpile of outdated coffee and that managed to hold us down for a while." You felt bad at the luxury you'd had, food, heat and water had all been things most people in the borderlands would have killed for but the thought that you were sleeping in a bed whilst your friends were scavenging to make do with whatever provisions they could find left a bubble of guilt in your stomach.

"We have everything you could need here, feel free to stay. There's water and food, are you hungry?" She nods. "I'll make you something to eat you can go and wash up, it's just out the back, past the small couch there's a door just there." You explain with a smile, already moving to make both her and An something substantial to eat.

"Hey?" She calls out softly from her space in the doorway. "I'm happy you're alive."

"Me too, me fucking too." You smile, letting yourself be pulled into another hug before she slips away to freshen up. "Now the food." You mumble to yourself.

You didn't have much-canned meat left, another week's worth with Kuina and An here, stocking up on spam had been the smartest thing Chishiya had done. You pulled out two tins, heating them on the small stove along with some canned black beans and a tin of soup, it wasn't a meal you'd be proud to serve but that's something you promised to rectify once you figured this world out.

"Something smells good." An whispers from behind you, and you jump dropping the wooden spoon on the floor. "Sorry." She laughed, bending over to pick it up. "Where should I put it?"

"It's okay, just in the bowl there." You point to the small red bucket you'd been washing dishes in, pulling out another. "How is Chishiya?"

"You did well with the stitches considering it's regular thread and needle, it will heal okay. The only issue is that the skin may heal over the stitches, realistically we need some dissolving stitches but he won't die." She explains, wiping her hands. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, sit please, you've been through enough the past few days just rest and I'll take care of it all." You wave her off. "How are you?"

"Doing fine, Kuina explained everything I guessed." An asked, fingers fiddling with the corner of the placemat.

"Yeah, she did." You mumble, still not happy with the conditions they were in. "I'm so-

"I didn't intend to kiss her it just happened." An rushes to explain, lips in a small pout.

Your body froze, Kuina had definitely missed out on that detail. "You what?" You spun on your heel, nearly knocking the pan over.

An looks at you, expression confused. "Kissed he- did she not tell you?"

You shook your head. "She did not."

"Are you upset?" It takes you a second to realise why she's asking, why she thinks you'd be upset.

"You think I'd be upset because you're both girls?" You almost laugh at the absurdity. "Of course not."

"Really?" Kuina asks from the doorway. "I was afraid to tell you."

"No I'm just happy you finally figured it out." They hadn't exactly been the most discreet about their feelings for each other, even if they were both oblivious to the other's feelings. "Let me finish cooking and then I want to know everything."

"Did you shower?" You hear An ask, and from the corner of your eye you see her taking a strand of Kuina's hair between her fingers. "is it okay if I have one?"

It takes you a second to realise she's asking you before you nod in response. "Of course, anything you find here is yours as much as it is ours."

"Talking of ours." Kuina clears her throat, lazing her body over the small counter. "Wanna catch me up on whatever's going on between you two?”

You laugh at the implication of her tone. "Absolutely not."

"Oh come on I'm already depressed here give me something to be excited about." She groans, throwing her head back playfully.

"Fine fine." You huff, moving the food into the set of small bowls you'd left on the side earlier. "Let's talk whilst we eat, let me just see if Chishiya wants anything."

"Such a great housewife." Kuina giggles.

You glare at her before rolling your eyes. "I will put you outside. An here is your food." You smile, passing her the bowl. "Kuina yours is up there." You gesture to the counter.

"Rude." She huffs, you bite back a laugh as you trot your way to the bedroom.

It's weird to see the door to the small room closed, you knock just in case, waiting until he calls you to come in before entering. "Hey."

"Having fun?" He asks, voice raspy. You felt guilty for disturbing him when he was so clearly tired but food would help him recover.

"Yeah." You perch on the end of the bed. "Do you want to eat something?"

"No I'm still full from earlier, go and spend time with them." He groans, a hand to his wound.

You hated seeing him in pain, truth be told you hated seeing anyone in pain but this sucked a little more so. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel comfortable, to ease the pain?"

"I need painkillers." He mumbles, eyes glassy as he looks at you. "Can you get them?"

"Yeah, yeah of course." You were quick to pop out three pills, one extra wouldn't hurt. Uncapping the water to save him the unnecessary strain before handing them both to him. "Here."

He grumbled his appreciation, taking them swiftly. "You should go be with them."

"I will I just wanted to check on you." You huffed. "You've got to let me worry sometimes."

"I'll be fine you don't need to worry." He reassures, pulling the blanket up more. "How long are they staying."

"As long as they want to." You respond, slightly worried he would send them away. "Why?"

He shrugged. "I won't be responsible for them too."

"You know it's funny you say that like An didn't come in here to make sure you weren't dying. You can't survive here alone Chishiya." You argue back, tired of rehashing the same conversation every few days.

"I didn't ask her to come and help." He retorted, his face calm as he closed his eyes and rested against the headboard. "Didn't ask them to come and eat my food, use my water or risk outing our location."

"Oh get over yourself!" You shout, furious that he would be so callous to those you considered friends. "If you didn't want them here they wouldn't be here, how did they find out where we were hm? I'm the only person who knew you were hurt apart from you and I didn't tell them. Whether you admit it or not you like them, and care about them. Maybe not An as much but definitely Kuina. The only person you hurt acting like a stupid angsty loner teenager is yourself."

He cracks an eye open, face smug. "Stupid angst loner teenager?"

"Shut up." You huff, your cheeks blushing red. "I hate you."

"No, you hate that I don't act the way you want me to. I don't know how they figured out we were here, I didn't ask them to come but I won't send them away." You had learned to read his expressions enough to know when he was close to smiling, the light tension in his lips betrayed him, you were sure the second you walked out the door he would break into a grin. "Go and spend time with them, I'll rest and join you later."

"Okay." You agree, pinning the non-argument argument for now. "Sleep well, call me if you need anything."

"Perfect housewife." He teased, you only had Kuina to blame.

"Go to sleep so I can smother you with a pillow." You pout, pulling the door closed slowly.

"I sleep with one eye open." He shouts back before you pull it closed, the tiniest slither of space allowing you to watch him, sure enough, he lays with a smile on his face as he closes his eyes.

"Creep." Kuina is whispered behind you, making you jump. You weren't entirely used to being around anyone other than Chishiya.

You silently pointed to the kitchen, not wanting Chishiya to hear you.

You both break out into a giggle when you get away from the bedroom, An eyeing you both questionably as you explain what happened. "So, there is something between you two?

You contemplate saying anything, Chishiya would complain to Earth's end if everyone knew how soft he was but you couldn't exactly help yourself, it's not like you had an abundance of people to talk to lately.

"Let's sit so you can finish eating and I'll explain." You give in, Kuina moving to take the seat beside An with you opposite them. After a few minutes, you begin explaining.

"He has grown to be really caring, he takes care of me and although it is in his own way I think he genuinely cares. We've done...stuff. I'm kind of scared for whatever happens when we are out of here, if we get out of here. I don't think I'd be okay if he died." You don't let yourself think too hard on that last thought, the mere idea was enough to have your stomach churning.

"To be honest I didn't think he could care about someone other than himself." An replied honestly. "Tsundere doesn't begin to explain him."

Kuina shoves An lightly with her elbow. "What she means to say is that I think you've softened him a little bit. I'm pretty sure he would still shove me to my death before he let you die."

"Don't say that!" You scold, not denying its truth. "I'd kill him."

"You wouldn't." An observes with a smile. "I think you love him."

Your eyes widen at the accusation. "You literally kissed each other."

"I bet you've done way more." Kuina teases, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Okay enough, we are not discussing that." You laugh. "Did you manage to find anything else out about the card games? Chishiya hiked to see if he could see anything but all he found were blimps. I think he wants to join the next diamond game."

"Do you have enough days on your visa?" Kuina asks, smile falling just a little only to widen when you nod. "Good, I think these are the last games but the rules are different, I don't think there are really rules."

You frown, wrapping your arms around your frame. "That's what I'm afraid of."

"But I heard another game was going to start in a few days." An looks up through her lashes.

You swallow, fingers crossed under the table that it wasn't the game of diamonds. "What one?"

"The Jack of Hearts."

You breathe a sigh of relief. "Oh."

"And some guy was predicting we will have the King of diamonds."

Oh.

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