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babyboibucky · 3 years

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Project V: Pierced

Pairing: College!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky convinces you to get matching nipple piercings.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, mention of oral, piercing pain lmfao, these two being dumbasses as usual

A/N: Maaaaaaaan, seeing Seb with them piercings really hyped me up to write shit lmfao

Project V Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

“Let’s get matching something.”

Bucky proposed as he lounged on your bed, his notes against his chest. You just got out of the shower, a towel wrapped around your chest with water droplets dripping from your neck down to your cleavage. You saw how Bucky’s eyes followed the droplets until it disappeared into your towel.

“Matching what?” You asked and started applying lotion all over your body.

Bucky’s ears turned red as he watched your hands slide up from your calf up to your thighs, the hem of your towel riding up a bit to expose your skin beneath. You snapped your fingers right in his face and made a face, “My eyes are up here, why the fuck are you so horny all the time?” you complained.

“You’re in a fucking towel and I can literally see your pussy from here. Of course I’m gonna feel horny!” he defended. “Anyway, matching something. What do you think?” Bucky asked again, turning to his side as he watched you continue with your post-shower routine.

You shrugged, “How about bracelets? Rings?” you suggested as you slipped on your underwear.

“Too basic.” Bucky said.

“Matching tats?” you asked and then gasped when an idea struck you. “Get a tattoo of my pussy and I’ll have your dick inked on my butt cheek.”

Bucky deadpanned at you, “Are you for real?” he asked. “Also, I don’t want matching tattoos. It’s too common. And Steve and Sam got matching tattoos. We gotta stand out ‘cause we’re not just regular best friends.” he explained, finally sitting up on your bed.

You were now clad in a loose shirt and skipped on the shorts. Turning around to face Bucky, you placed your hands on your hips. “You’re just jealous that Steve decided to get matching tats with Sam and not you.” you teased and sat down next Bucky on your bed.

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Whatever.” he dismissed and thought about what else the both of you can get.

You were combing your hair when Bucky found himself staring at your tits, noticing your pebbled nipples straining through the thin fabric of your shirt.

And then had a eureka moment.

“Let’s get our nips pierced!”

“Can I still back out?” you asked, tugging Bucky’s hand as the both of you entered the tattoo parlor.

You refused to get your nipples pierced, you clearly remembered shooting that idea down as soon as Bucky suggested it. But Bucky, Bucky, Bucky...he had a way with his words and his tongue that made you cry out yes to his suggestion.

Fucking Bucky and his talent at cunnilingus. If that man tried to convince you to help him hide a dead body by eating you out, you would’ve started digging a grave as soon as he was done with you.

He was that good at it.

“Pussy.” Bucky teased.

“Using ‘pussy’ as an insult doesn’t make any sense because this pussy can take a pounding. You should know that better than anyone.” you spat back with a scowl.

Bucky frowned at you, “Okay, fine. I take that back. But no one’s backing out. C’mon, we’d be the coolest BFFs in town with these piercings.” he insisted.

You were about to retort back but was immediately cut off when a guy called both your names, confirming the appointment that was made a week ago. Bucky took your hand and pulled you with him further into the parlor, leaving you with no choice but to give in.

“Alright, so nipple piercings huh?” the guy asked. “Are we gonna do both...or?”

You raised your hand, “What’s the aftercare like?” you went straight to the point.

“Oh well, just don’t touch it for as long as you can. It takes about 6 months to a full year for it to completely heal. Wear a cotton bra or skip on it if possible. Try not to tug at the piercings so when doing the nasty, try not to include the nipples.” he explained so casually.

You turned to Bucky, “When doing the nasty, try not to include the nipples. You sure about this, Buck?” you asked, knowing how much Bucky loved playing with your tits during sex.

Bucky swallowed, “For how long should we avoid the nipple play?” he asked shamelessly.

“Couple of months to a full year.”

“Fuck!” Bucky hissed, ignoring how the piercer burst out laughing at his disappointment.

“So what? We still gonna do this or?” you asked.

Bucky pondered for a couple of seconds before letting out a sigh, “I really want us to be the coolest BFFs out there.”

The both of you decided to show off the piercings back at the dorm, wanting it to be a moment of surprise. The Uber ride was quiet for some reason, tension thick in the air.

“You screamed like a bitch back there.” you said, finally breaking the silence.

Bucky looked offended when he snapped his head towards you, “My pain tolerance is low, okay?” he excused. “And it really did hurt. At least I didn’t whimper like a whore.” he said.

It was true though, you did whimper like a whore getting fucked by three dicks all at once. You always thought you tolerated pain pretty well, getting a Brazilian was a regular thing for you and it never made you flinch. Nipple piercings though? Jesus fucking christ, you couldn’t even explain how much it fucking hurt.

You laughed sarcastically at Bucky’s rebuttal, “Better than screaming as if you were being pegged with no prep.”

As soon as you arrived at Bucky’s dorm, he scrambled to lock the door in hopes of Steve not coming home any time soon. He’d already seen you wearing Bucky’s boxers, he doesn’t need to see the both of you showing off your newly pierced nipples at each other.

“Okay. You ready?” Bucky asked as he stood in front of you.

“On three.” you said before starting off the countdown.

As soon as the countdown was over, Bucky reached for his shirt from behind, removing it at the same time you removed yours, followed by the thin bralette you wore underneath.

“Oh my god, we actually did it.” you snorted, looking closely at the ball closure ring that Bucky went for.

“Shit, I didn’t know you got straight barbells on yours.” Bucky asked, his eyes glued on your slightly red nipples. “Fuck, your tits look so good with piercings.” he grunted breathlessly.

You licked your lips and groaned at the confession you were about to make, “Look, I’m gonna be honest. I’m so fucking turned on right now.”

Bucky groaned, “Me too. Jesus, I thought I was gay because I got an erection when the dude pierced my first nipple. I mean, he was pretty handsome too.”

“I’m sure we can fuck but we just have to avoid the nips so just hit me from the back.” you said and quickly shimmied off your pants together with your panties.

Bucky rushed to remove his and went over to his bed, kneeling behind as you positioned yourself on all fours. You got so wet at the thought of Bucky’s nipples having piercings that you didn’t need that much foreplay to get ready. Bucky slid his fingers along your folds, gathering more wetness from your entrance before smearing it.

“Fuck, just get on with it!” you moaned and gripped the bedsheets tightly.

Bucky jerked his cock a couple of times before finally sliding easily into your cunt. He choked on his moan at the feeling of your velvety walls clenching around his hard cock. He had been hard too on the way home, no wonder there was tension in that Uber ride.

“Go fast and hard, I’m not gonna last.” you urged, pushing your ass back to meet Bucky’s thrusts.

Placing a hand on your neck and the other on your waist, Bucky fucked you the way you wanted. Thank goodness you started taking pills because Bucky didn’t have the patience to even put a condom on. He felt like he was going to nut as soon as his eyes landed on your pierced nipples, so perky and still swollen.

“Oh shit, fuck. I’m so fucking horny.” Bucky said, his jaw tensing as he watched your ass bounce every time he slammed back inside of you.

A couple more thrusts and your entire body trembled, a soft moan slipping past your lips when you came hard. Even without being touched, your nipples felt sensitive because of the piercings, the sensation only adding to your pleasure when you reached your orgasm.

“Shit, fuck. I gotta see those tits bounce. I can’t cum without seeing them.” Bucky said and pulled out to gently turn you around.

Now on your back with your legs spread open, Bucky slipped inside and continued to fuck you. His hands gripped the pillow beneath your head for leverage as he jackhammered you onto the bed, your hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders as you felt another orgasm approach you.

You lifted your head up to meet Bucky’s lips in a kiss, moaning into his mouth when you felt the tip of his cock kiss your cervix. Your vision blacked out momentarily when you came for the second time. Just as when you regained your senses, Bucky got lost in his own orgasm that he completely forgot about the piercings. He grabbed your left breast and pinched your nipple, your scream joining his loud moan when he came.

“Fucking hell, Bucky!” you cried out, the pain too much to bear that you also didn’t notice that your hand clawed at Bucky’s right pec with your middle finger getting caught in his piercing, accidentally ripping it out in the process.

“Motherfucker!”

“What the hell happened? Are you both okay?!” Steve worriedly asked as soon as he arrived at the ER of a nearby hospital.

Upon getting Bucky’s voicemail about rushing to the hospital, Steve panicked and went there as soon as he could. He had been Bucky’s emergency contact for a long time now and he was used to receiving calls from police stations due to how often Bucky got himself in trouble, especially when drunk. But Bucky calling, sounding like he was in immense pain, telling him that he needed to go to the hospital?

It was the first time it ever happened so it was understandable for Steve to panic like a husband who got a call informing him that his wife was going into labor.

You and Bucky exchanged glances, faces red from embarrassment before nodding.

“We’re good.” you curtly responded, scratching your neck.

“What happened?” Steve asked again, brows furrowing as he looked at you and Bucky alternately.

You nudged Bucky’s ribs with your elbow, widening your eyes at him as you urged him to do the explaining.

“We uh...werippedouteachothersnipplepiercings.” he murmured to himself.

Steve frowned, “I didn’t catch a word that you said.”

“We ripped out each other’s piercings by accident.” you repeated, clearly and slowly this time.

“Did your earlobes get ripped off or what?” Steve asked, taking a closer look at both your ears.

Confusion washed over his face when he noticed that your ear piercings were still intact and that Bucky didn’t even have his ears pierced. Steve straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest, looking at the both of you like a reprimanding father.

“What did the two of you do this time?”

A nurse stepped into the scene and offered Steve a kind smile before turning to you and Bucky, handing over a prescription.

“Make sure to follow the instructions when applying the ointment and both your nipples should heal properly.” she explained before walking out.

“Nipples?!” Steve gasped out.

Bucky sighed but shrugged in response, “At least we’re the coolest BFFs out there with matching nipple piercings.”

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @im-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr @asemistablehundredyearoldman @reidbuck @lizzarooni @girlfriday007 @bonkywobble @lost-in-the-stars03 @its-yasbxtch @whoth3hellisbucky

#bbb writes #project v #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #fem!reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #sebastian stan

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mroddships · 3 years

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Looking Good in Red

MacGregor doesn’t know why he volunteered but he did and now he is here in one of London’s most elegant Tailors searching for a wardrobe for Frank, the 400 and something-year-old skipper who hadn’t left the jungle for centuries. Lily was off doing whatever Lily wanted to do, most likely searching for a new adventure that the trio could embark on. For now though MacGregor’s only adventure would be to get through these next hours staring at a very beautiful man.

MacGregor has dated before of course. He’s been with a few women and once he realized he wasn’t into them he had slowly moved on to the other gender, men. Being gay during this time was an awful situation and he could be ostracized from society so secretly he has dated a few men but it was never anything too special. A quick month or 2 month-long hidden relationships here or there. So it wasn’t like MacGregor didn’t have experience in the dating pool, it just was the fact that he hadn’t really “dated” anyone. Not really anyway. Not the way he’s heard of from his evening books or from his annoying but happy neighbors. Frank though felt different. Sure Frank and MacGregor weren’t even together but… well… MacGregor hopes they can be one day. He fully respects his sister and would never try anything while Lily and Frank were together but maybe, just maybe they would split up? God, MacGregor hates thinking this way. He adores how Frank treats her and thinks that the skipper is a perfect match for his headstrong sister. He just also adored Frank.

It is apparent though that MacGregor has no chance with the other man and so while they are both here today fitting into nice dashing suits, he has decided he will try his best to ignore Frank’s gorgeous muscles. That may be hard though since Frank keeps walking out of the fitting room half-naked complaining that most of the things in there didn’t fit him. Every time the taller man would walk out his upper body would be completely exposed, no jackets, no vest, no shirt. Just pure muscle. So MacGregor’s little plan isn’t going to plan whatsoever.

“It’s just not fitting right! The shirt is too small, I can barely get my arms through the tiny holes and when I do I can barely button it. Is every man small here in London?” Frank comes once again out of the small fitting room with the shirt in his hand. He seems somewhat upset by the situation but mostly amused. “I swear MacGregor I didn’t think your face could get redder but I am mistaken.” He smiles at the smaller man, causing him to blush more. “See! It keeps reddening.”

MacGregor, now frustrated from Frank’s complaining and the heat in this room, walks over to Frank and grabs the shirt from his hand. “Well if you weren’t so damn big they would fit and yes Frank, my face reddens often. Glad you noticed now. Now please just find a shirt that fits and make it work so we can finally leave this god-awful place. I’m sweating buckets from this heat.” The smaller man walks around, searching for another shirt. His eyes land on the fairly huge red one. Not quite what MacGregor would wear but Frank isn’t him and a bold color might actually work for the giant. Grabbing the shirt, he heads back over to Frank and nearly shoves the shirt into his chest. “Here! Try this.” He leaves Frank who stands there and rolls his eyes before making his way back into the dressing room. MacGregor’s frustration slowly dissolves as he finds a pleasantly looking red tie. Maybe red could be his color? MacGregor never quite liked it on himself since he didn’t want the attention but after their near-death experience in the Amazon Jungle, MacGregor’s confidence had increased. Frank couldn’t be the only one who could pull of red. So MacGregor grabs the tie and turns to one of the huge mirrors in the waiting area.

“Hey!” whispered a voice next to MacGregor. Startled he turns around to see where the noise had come from. Frank’s head pops out of the room and he gestures for him to get closer. “I need some help.” Frank’s head disappears and MacGregor’s frustration comes back.

“Oh, Frank I swear it is so infuriating to take you-AHH!” The smaller man was in the middle of his venting when Frank’s hand reaches out to him and grabs him by the almost done red tie around MacGregor’s neck. He is pulled into the small fitting room and is immediately pushed against the wall. “Frank what-”, MacGregor tries to ask but gets cut off by Frank shushing him.

“I need your help, I don’t know what I am doing wrong.” Frank backs up a bit from the smaller man, allowing him to examine the problem. Frank had somehow screwed up the order of his buttons. How this man lived life for centuries, MacGregor will never understand.

“You buffoon, you simply need to unbutton it and line them up correctly.” MacGregor begins to unbutton Frank’s shirt starting at the top. He is so busy that he didn’t realize just how close they actually are to one another. As MacGregor gets to the middle of Frank’s chest, he realizes and his eyes look up at the taller man who is looking back down at him. “Umm… see… its very simple.” MacGregor’s eyes go back down to the shirt and his hands work on the buttons the rest of the way. He works slowly, admiring as he reaches the bottom. Once the last button is undone his eyes snap back up again, staring right into Frank’s. Usually, the taller man’s face was expressionless unless there was some kind of smile but at the moment Frank’s eyes were filled with something MacGregor’s only seen during those secret relationships, desire. “Well, there you go. If you’d like I could help you with the rest but honestly I-”, MacGregor is cut off as Frank tugs on the red tie, pulling him forward.

They both sit there silently, MacGregor feeling both scared and excited. “You look good in red. I noticed the tie earlier and had to get you in here so I could have a better, more private look.” Frank pulls the tie harder, causing a noise to come from MacGregor. His other hand raises above MacGregor’s head against the wall. “You also smell amazing. Like sweet vanilla. I’m not sure how but you should try to smell like this all the time.” Frank’s lips hover over MacGregor’s ear, sending chills down the smaller man’s spine.

“I… I try my best. You also look very… very good in red. Very charming.” MacGregor struggles the last part out as Frank’s grip gets tighter. “Frank I don’t-”

“I already talked to Lily. She knows.” Frank hums. He nips the smaller man’s ear and receives a small moan.

“Oh my… umm… she knows what? Exactly?” MacGregor’s confusion fades as Frank begins to lick his ear.

“That you could also be world enough for me.” Frank backs up, causing MacGregor to whimper from the loss but Frank moves onto the other side, this time licking and nipping the smaller man’s neck. “Lily is everything to me. But so are you.”

“Oh, Frank… that sounds wonderful. I would love that deeply.” MacGregor exposes more of his neck to Frank, letting him explore even further. “Yes, I would love to be your everything.”

Frank bites down hard, MacGregor groaning from the pain grabs onto the taller man’s broad shoulders. Frank licks the spot and pulls away to a very dizzy-looking MacGregor. “This probably isn’t the best place to say something like that bu-”

This time Frank is cut off by MacGregor leaning forward and meeting his lips. MacGregor relaxes next to Frank, enjoying his strangely soft lips. “Any place would have worked for me. Now shut up and just kiss me.”

Frank’s eyes light up with joy and he smiles, leaning in to give MacGregor what he wants.

#frank x macgregor #macgregor x frank #frank wolff #mcgregor x frank #macgregor houghton #mcgregor houghton #the jungle cruise #jungle cruise #lily houghton #one shot

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faunusrights · 3 years

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yeah, all i got is this belly button lint: a happy huntresses short fic

wrote this real quick because i love thinking about the random crap fiona has in her Inventory(tm). also i just like thinking about these clowns in general, so,

"Okay, so, what's actually in your Semblance right now?" Joanna asks one day in third year, when Fiona and May have sneaked away to Robyn's dorm to lose at cards and help edit her new batch of flyers promoting union creation in the workplace. Fiona had given a couple a look and accepted them as good enough, but May is weirdly exacting about her standards and is currently trying to convince Robyn to nudge the text headers over by ten pixels to the right. That's why, as she's sat on the floor and wrapped up in the drama of watching Robyn try and slowly fail to ignore May's insistent pleas for her to boot up her editor, Fiona's caught just a little bit off-guard by the question.

"My Semblance?" she asks, and Joanna nods all serious-like from her place on the bunk above Robyn. Joanna often looks very serious, because she suffers from what Robyn calls resting thoughtful bitch face, so sometimes it's hard to gauge how actually serious about something she really is. "I mean, it's probably a mess in there right now."

"I keep forgetting you actually use it like storage space," Robyn adds cheerfully, having now progressed onto shoving May away from her laptop computer every time she tries to creep closer. "Since most Semblances are, y'know, combat-only things or like... special occasions, I guess. And yet here you are, telling people you really don't need a bag for all your groceries!"

It is fun to flex on all the people struggling to carry like six bags to their car or their home, and Fiona preens. "Yeah, it's nice. I mostly keep things in it that I'd wanna have in an emergency, but it's been a while since I last sorted through it, so, who knows what garbage I've put in there."

"Tell me Robyn's braincell is in there too," May says imploringly, still trying to slide an arm around Robyn to get at the keyboard, but Fiona just shakes her head. She can't and won't be blamed for that particular disappearance any time soon. Instead, she rubs her hands together, scrunching up her face as she tests the edges of the Semblance. It's a funny thing, a Semblance like this--she never really has to think about it, but it's always just in reach, like this extra weight in her chest that she can totally forget about. It's strange to think about, so she often just doesn't.

"Okay," she starts, and she goes for the biggest item she can sense, which is an easy one to explain. In her hands materialises an acoustic guitar, worn and scuffed with age, and this attracts to attention of every girl in the room. "Well, this one's easy. This is my guitar, and honestly? If I ever leave it behind in the meatspace and don't pick it up on my way out the door, know that you've just seen my evil clone and you have to kill her."

Joanna blinks, and Robyn seems caught between asking about the guitar, the evil clone, and also the fact that Fiona insists on referring to the physical world as the meatspace. So, she does as Robyn does best, and settles on an expletive. "Shit! You play?"

"Been playing since I was... like seven? Something like that." Fiona shrugs, because she really can't be sure; her first vague memory of even seeing this guitar was a long time ago, her uncle telling her it used to belong to her grandmother who'd never managed to learn a damn thing on it. So, Fiona had taken up practice, if only because it was something for a little lowlands Mantellian Faunus to do during the long, cold polar nights and the endless sunshine of the midnight sun. "But, yeah, this is always on me in some form or another."

"You should've played it whilst we were on watch our last mission," May says, with a certain scowl that Fiona knows is 100% directed at their team leader, who is currently off doing... some sort of bullshit with their partner, no doubt. Gods, this team is a nightmare. "All those hours trying to stay awake so we could stare into nothing..."

"Sorry," Fiona says, and she means it. She'd intended to, but, well, she'd sort of chickened out. The echo in the mountains is kind of insane. "Next time?"

May nods, but Joanna cuts off whatever she's about to say next by waving her hands through the air like she can physically dissipate the conversation. "Okay, okay, cool, but now I gotta else you got hiding in there."

Re-compressing her guitar--and oh, is Fiona thankful that dematerialising and rematerialising it doesn't leave it out of tune--Fiona has a mental root around. "Uh, okay, so, we've got--"

In no particular order, she starts pulling things out: a pair of thick gloves for the brutal Solitas chill, an extra pair of socks (hugely understated by most, but never by Fiona), a ushanka that Robyn instantly cheers for, and a couple of jackets ranging from light windbreakers to thick furred jackets that feel like she's wearing a mattress around her ribs. Her Scroll and wallet are in there too, naturally, as are her keys and some extra ammunition, and she pulls out a load of old train tickets with a grimace. "Hm. I was meant to throw these away years ago."

"You're basically carrying around a wardrobe in there, then?" May asks in a way that'd maybe be a little teasing if she didn't look about as jealous as she sounds, but it becomes a thoughtful expression when Fiona shakes her head again.

"Bold of you to think I haven't got a whole pantry in here too," she says, and now Joanna looks very interested. "Check this out."

The first thing she pulls out is a gallon jug of clean water--endlessly fucking useful, she's found, especially when you're in some situation where you can't sit on your ass for an hour waiting for the water purification tablets to do their job--before pulling out a whole host of Atlesian MREs that she keeps around just in case shit really does hit the fan. Atlas rations are... not good, in a phrase, but she's owed them her life more than once, so, whatever.

"What dates are on those?" May quickly interrupts with a critical eye, trying to make out the printed numbers on the snow-patterned packets, and Fiona tosses her one if only to distract May's hands from trying to puzzle out Robyn's password when Robyn isn't directly paying attention.

"Things don't really degrade in my Semblance," Fiona admits. "I've tested it before on stuff with a short shelf-life, like cheese and milk, and honestly I can leave it in there for months and have it come out just as fresh as when it went in. Something to do with a sort of... internal stasis, I guess." Then, she adds, "One thing in my Semblance is a goldfish in a bowl, but he's part of a practical theory I'm running, so I can't materialise him for another fifteen years or so."

"That sounds very normal," Joanna says, and Fiona is glad she agrees as she barrels right over the inherent sarcasm.

As May agonises over finding the date, though, Fiona continues to unveil her pantry--there's plenty of snacks, like dried fruit and nuts and energy bars and chocolate, and when she reveals she carries extra for every member of her team and then some (then some in this instance being Robyn and Joanna, not that she'll admit it), Robyn looks delighted. "That's so sweet! Look at you, making sure nobody goes hungry. You're one in a million."

That's cute and very gay, but Fiona has a lot of stuff to be working through and so she keeps on going--there's a flask of coffee that, thanks to the maybe-stasis, is eternally hot, a bottle of dark Mantellian ale she keeps as, uh, moral support, and she blushes when she pulls out half an uneaten tuna sandwich. "I wondered where that went. Whoops."

May looks up from the MRE for a second, and then does a double-take as she takes in the sight of the very limp and sad-looking sandwich, made courtesy of the Atlas Academy cafeteria. "Wait! Isn't that the sandwich you accused me of stealing last month?!"

"Anyway!" Fiona says with a forced grin, quickly making it disappear back into the void where it can safely continue not existing. "I think the final thing in here is... wait."

She blinks, and suddenly in her hands are at least a hundred little booklets entitled The Pocket Guide to Communist Outreach, scattering right over the floor. Robyn yelps, and then reaches down the side of her bunk to pick them up. "Oh shit! I forgot I asked you to hold onto these! I thought we ran out, nice."

Joanna's face is in her hands, and May sighs long and hard before tossing the MRE back to Fiona with a distinctly pained expression.

"It goes out of date in a month," she notes with distaste, and Fiona just sucks it up without a word. She'll be thankful for it when they end up down a dark cave with no backup, but Fiona figures she'll sit on that one for a bit before being able to make the greatest told you so call in history. She can wait.

"So," she says, watching as May takes advantage of Robyn's momentary distraction to try and access her computer again. "I guess... do you wanna hear me play a song?"

Joanna watches as her partner leans too far over the side of the bunk, yelping as she nearly slams her head directly into the hard vinyl of the floor, and she grimaces. "Please do."

Grinning, Fiona finds her guitar again--somewhere buried, she mentally notes, beside the gallon of water but under the coats--and she slings the broad strap about her shoulders before settling it on her lap, crossing her legs tightly beneath herself before finding her place on the fretboard. After having not played since being back home, it relaxes her more than she'd ever realised it did. It helps to be surrounded by friends, though. Helps to be with family.

"I don't take requests," she adds, flatly, and Robyn laughs from her place on the floor before music fills the dorm, soft and deep and achingly familiar of a place far, far below.

But she's okay with calling this place home, too.

#is the title really a spongebob refer--#rwby #happy huntresses #fiona thyme #robyn hill #may marigold #joanna greenleaf #my writing #sorry this was in my brain for a while there sdfhjgsdfgjh #BUT ITS OUT NOW. ITS FREE.#what else would you have called this #fiona doesn't mention this but she also has emergency condoms and a literal handgun. just in case.#JUST IN CASE...

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gravelyhumerus · 3 years

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Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter Thirteen

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away” Relationship: Jemily

Rating: Explicit Summary: Foxes, lattes, churches and resolutions.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

The first thing she noticed was the snow. It was falling down on her, hitting her skin with pinpricks of ice cold. She wandered through the bookshelves, searching for something. She wasn’t sure what for.

It didn’t normally snow inside the library, but that didn’t seem to matter to her.

The snow crunched beneath her feet as she turned down another row of books, past the history section and stepping over a stack of books on the floor that was left there by some other student. To her left was a row of empty desks. It was just Emily and the books.

But, Emily didn’t feel peaceful. Something inside of her told her that she couldn’t wait around, she needed to do something, find something.

Emily trudged through the snow. Was she searching for a spot to sit and study? Was she searching for a book? When she found it, she would know.

She turned down a corridor, looking up and down the tall bookcases, her eyes skimming along the spines. They were old leather bound tomes, in rich oranges, blues and reds. They looked as if they hadn’t been read in decades. She searched for something she recognized, but nothing made sense to her as she couldn’t make out the titles or authors.

Out of frustration, she turned away to stomp back down the row, but something stopped her in her tracks.

Emily blinked at the image in front of her. It was a fox standing in the middle of the fiction section, looking at her expectantly. It was as if he had climbed out of one of the books and materialized before her eyes.

“Bonjour,” Emily said, kneeling down before the animal.

“Bonjour,” said the fox.

Emily looked around, confused at the appearance of the animal. What was a fox doing in a library? When she looked back, he was gone.

She looked around.

“Je suis là,” came the voice, from between two books, announcing his presence on the adjacent shelf.

“Qui es-tu?” Emily asked, wondering who he was—or what he was—and what on earth he was doing here in her college’s library.

“Je suis un renard,” said the fox. He was a fox. No shit.

She blinked at him, trying to figure out what she was remembering. The fox was familiar. She had seen him before… or read about him before.

It was just like out of Le Petit Prince—the book that JJ had given her for her birthday. The book was a classic children’s novel, one that Emily had read many times. It was as if the character had simply stepped out of the book.

The book was about a little boy who lived on an asteroid and was in love with a rose. He went on an adventure through space before landing on Earth. There, he befriended a fox. Emily could picture the simple watercolour illustration of the small boy prince speaking to the fox. She could almost feel the pages of the book between her fingers. She smiled as she thought of JJ’s excited face as Emily unwrapped the present a few weeks back.

This fox, like in the book, was speaking to her. She racked her brain for what she was supposed to say.

“What am I doing here?” Emily asked, this time in English.

“Je ne puis pas jouer avec toi,” said the fox, which was not the answer to her question, since he had told her that he couldn’t play with her. “Je ne suis pas apprivoisé."

I am not tamed, he said. He has not yet been tamed. Emily remembered now what she must say.

“What does tamed mean?” she asked, in French.

The fox jumped down from the bookshelf and walked through the library, his small paws leaving prints in the white snow. He was bright red against the ground and easy to follow through the familiar stacks. Emily noticed that she wasn’t cold, despite the weather, even as her breath came out in puffs that lingered in the air.

“It’s something that’s been too often neglected. It means ‘to create ties’... but you know this.”

Emily remembered this part, he was right. In the book, the boy doesn’t know what taming means, how to create ties with the wild animal. He does not yet know the meaning of friendship.

The novel was filled with layers of metaphor. It spoke to childhood, love, loss and the power of the imagination. Emily’s copy sat next to her bed, and she had been looking through it before she fell asleep that night.

The fox crept through the seemingly endless bookshelves, his tail swishing back and forth as he walked. Emily tried to keep up, but he seemed to weave through the library with a practised ease.

The fox stopped. He hopped onto a desk and curled his tail in front of him. He cocked his head and looked at her expectantly.

“Your person has run from you, correct?”

Emily stared at him. This part was not in the book. She nodded after a moment.

“I ran from my boy at first, too.”

She remembered this part: in the novel, the young boy wanted to befriend the fox. But he was impatient. The fox explained that it would take time, that the boy would have to return over multiple days to build his trust. The boy would begin sitting far from the fox, not even making eye contact. Over time, he could move closer and closer until they finally could play together. Their friendship could only be forged over time.

“Were you scared?” Emily asked.

“At first,” he replied. “But he was patient. And persistent.”

The fox swished his tail, then continued: “At times, my heart was not yet ready to greet him.”

“How did the little prince finally tame you?”

He did not answer the question, as she already knew the answer, instead he said: “Words are the source of misunderstandings.”

“Was it all worth it? Even though he left you in the end?” Emily asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, then looked off into the distance, almost wistfully.

“Here is my secret,” he said. “It’s a very simple secret: it is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."

“On ne voit qu'avec le cœur," Emily repeated. She knew this line by heart. It was better in French.

The fox disappeared into the books and Emily was left alone in the empty library. His words filled her mind.

Words are the source of misunderstandings. It is only with the heart that one can see rightly.

Emily woke up to the sound of her alarm blaring in her ear. She was curled up on her bed, on her side. Her blankets had fallen onto the floor, and she was close to shivering in the chill air. She slammed her hand onto her phone and fumbled until she turned off her alarm.

It was a dream. A vivid dream. She didn’t normally get those.

She stretched, her neck sore after sleeping at a weird angle. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the convoluted dream that was still clear in her mind. Somehow, even after all she had done to distract herself, JJ still was a key figure in her unconscious brain.

Emily needed to move on from that, focus on school. She couldn’t dwell on what she couldn’t control. She was an expert at pretending everything was okay; she had held herself together through worse.

She stared out the window. Instead of the white snow that had been so crisp and bright in her dream, outside was grey and dreary. She couldn’t see any hint of precipitation, frozen or otherwise, just dead grass and wet asphalt. The trees were bare as the leaves had fallen and been raked up last month, and there was salt on the roads in anticipation of the freezing temperatures.

Emily methodically dressed, donning a pair of jeans and a dark green button up shirt, pulling a sweater on top to combat the chill. She then played some music on her laptop. She focused on the lyrics, allowing her mind to go blank.

She sat in front of the mirror on her desk, carefully applying her makeup. There was something about a swoop of liquid eyeliner that made everything feel okay. At least, more okay than they used to be. If she looked put together, maybe she would feel like it, too.

Emily rarely remembered her dreams and she really wasn’t used to having to think too hard about her subconscious. All that was very Freudian, anyways. She wrote the dream off as her sleep-deprived brain mixed with reading before bed.

She donned her warmest leather jacket, the one with sherpa lining on the collar and tugged a mustard yellow beanie onto her head. Then, she lifted her tote bag onto her shoulders, and put her headphones into her ears, turning the volume up high, hoping that she could drown it all out.

During her lecture, Emily didn’t retain a single word her professor said. She mindlessly typed her notes, completely zoned out the entire time. She wondered if the words on her screen made any sense, but decided that it must be an issue for a future version of herself. This was probably a bad idea, as it was just about finals season and her exams were fast approaching.

Her mind was elsewhere: thinking about the blonde who lived across the hall. At times, Emily thought about their kiss, or imagined holding her hand, or holding her body. Then, as her daydreaming gave way to reality, she remembered the anxiety as JJ ignored her texts. She remembered JJ ending it one day, then coming back from a hookup mere days later.

Every day that week, as Emily walked down the hall, a part of her wanted to knock on JJ’s door, like she used to, just to say hi. Beyond everything else, Emily missed JJ. She missed laughing over dinner, studying French, or even lounging in one of their dorm rooms, doing nothing and talking for hours. She missed the way she smelled and her soft touch and her big blue eyes. She missed JJ’s kindness, how she would remember little details about Emily, and how she would knock her shoulder against Emily’s to get her attention. Emily missed her friend.

But the hurt was still there, and it overpowered her longing. The hallway reminded her of JJ’s words, her breaking it off, the tears in her eyes.

Emily hadn’t seen her since, with JJ doing an amazing job at avoiding her.

As soon as her class was over, she walked off of campus, heading straight to her favourite cafe downtown. It was usually busy this time of day, but she hoped the crowd would keep her from wallowing and make her focus on her work. Campus was inextricably tied to JJ. The field reminded her of JJ’s soccer games, the library of their study dates, the cafeteria of their group dinners and even the quad made her think of the time she almost ran JJ over with her skateboard when she was distracted.

Emily sat at the long sandy wood table and sipped her latte as she opened her laptop.

Members of the Prentiss family were extremely talented at pretending things were normal, that everything was fine, and Emily was no exception. She had tucked all the hurt, all the confusion, into a neat little box in the back of her mind. Storing it away until she could deal with it.

She typed away at one of her essays, only taking pauses to sip her coffee. She was busy finding sources and working on integrating quotes to develop her argument. She enjoyed the sound of her keyboard clacking, adding to the din of the cafe.

Her phone was tucked neatly away in her pocket. While there was a noticeable silence in their group chat—the one with both Emily and JJ in it—Emily’s phone seemed to be constantly pinging with messages. Derek was checking in on her, Penelope seemed to be trying to distract her, even Hotch had sent her a message to make sure she was ok. If Reid had a cellphone, she knew he’d be doing the same. Sometimes she got messages from Penelope’s number that was signed by the younger boy. Somehow, the whole world seemed to have known exactly what had happened between her and JJ.

The sun was setting faster and faster these days, and by five, it was creeping below the horizon. At this point, she had most of her essay drafted, so it felt like a good enough time to call it quits. Anyways, her back was starting to get sore from the minimalist chair and all she really wanted to do was curl up in her bed again.

Emily packed up her bag, depositing her empty mug on the counter, nodding at the barista before leaving.

She took the long way home, walking along the river and listening to her music, trying to clear her mind. She pulled her hood up against the cool air.

She walked for five minutes before slowing as she came upon a church that she had passed before. Instead of continuing along her way back to her dorm, something made her pause.

Lights lit up the facade: a red brick building that stretched up into the sky with a pointed bell tower in the centre. Columns graced the front, standing strong on either side of the large, wooden doorway.

Emily stared at it. It was simultaneously familiar and foriegn. Emily had spent almost every Sunday in church, be it Sunday school or mass with her mother. No matter where they were in the world, there was always at least one church in the city that they could attend.

In Rome, their visits had only gotten more frequent, as after school, she and Matthew would wander the Renaissance churches around the city, admiring the architecture and discussing theology and morality and free will.

Something came over her in that moment, and she found herself wandering up the steps, trying the door to see if it was unlocked. The door swung open easily, and for a moment Emily thought about walking in. She thought about kneeling before the cross and going through the familiar motions of prayer.

She thought about asking God about JJ, about what was going on, praying for guidance on what to do. She could picture the way the light would dance through the stained glass window, she could feel wooden pew under her knees, she could almost mouth the words of her prayer.

She thought of St. Georgia, her confirmation saint. She thought of her life of solitude, and how that almost sounded nice. Young Emily had thought the same thing.

She thought about the mass that she sat in her pew, with tears in her eyes, as the priest talked about how being gay was a sin. She thought about how her mother repeated those words when she came out at sixteen.

She let the door close without entering, before walking away, longing for the feeling of the wind on her face instead of the dusty smell of incense.

It had been years since she had set foot in church. The last time had been in Rome, the day she walked in with Matthew, before… well there was no before. It just was. Her pregnancy had triggered something in both of them, questions about the church that could not be prayed away.

Emily clenched her fists, her short nails digging into her palms. She remembered the way Matthew had held her hand at the doctor’s, and held her as she fought back tears, and walked arm in arm into the church in defiance of the priest.

After, their questions hadn’t subsided. Matthew read and read and read and the more he learned, the more the church transformed the place of safety and solace to something neither teen could stand behind.

Still, she missed her childhood certainty. She missed the feeling of a power greater than herself watching over her. She missed the singing—though she would never admit it—she had really enjoyed being in the choir. She missed how her mother would sit next to her, how it was often the longest time she got to spend with her busy mom.

Emily shook her head, fighting back the memories, and turned up her music and continued her walk home. She dug around in her backpack for a lighter and her pack of cigarettes. Fumbling for a moment, she lit one and breathed in the dark smoke.

The wind was biting and her leather jacket did little to keep the cold from creeping into her bones. As the sun was setting, Emily began to shiver.

After dragging her walk out as long as she could, she finally went back to her dorm. Her hands were iced cold and she was shivering. She dropped her backpack on the floor before collapsing onto her bed. She checked her phone to find a missed call from Derek.

She called him back, knowing that he was likely to pick up from only down the hall.

“Hey,” she said. She felt suddenly tired, and wondered whether he would pick up on that.

“Hey Prentiss,” Derek said. “How’s it going?”

“I’m fine,” Emily lied.

“No you’re not,” his voice came through the phone, and from the hallway, and he knocked once before opening her door.

Emily sat up, looking over to him in surprise. As if he owned the place, Derek walked over and sat down on her desk chair, letting it spin with the motion of his body.

“We’re ordering take out,” Derek said, “You can’t survive on coffee.”

“I can try,” Emily muttered.

“Pizza?” Derek proposed.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Bullshit,” he said. “You’ve been avoiding the cafeteria.”

Emily crossed her arms. Derek was good at making her feel better, pushing her to take care of herself without forcing her to talk about her feelings. He was a private person, and so he never went too far, knowing that there were lines that neither of them crossed.

“Thai?” he said with a sly look in his eye, he knew she couldn’t refuse.

“Ok fine,” she gave up, “You know what I like.”

“That I do,” he said, dialling his phone and calling the local family-run Thai restaurant for delivery.

Forty minutes later the two of them were eating curry and watching The X-Files on Emily’s laptop. They were sprawled out on the floor, both scooping rice into their mouths as they discussed the plot of the episode—aliens—and whether or not they actually believed in them.

Emily didn’t realize how hungry she had been and struggled to remember the last full meal she had eaten.

After she had finished, she felt slightly more human, slightly less out of it. Still sad, but being sad on a full stomach, sitting next to her best friend and watching her favourite tv show was a bit more bearable.

“I just don't get it,” Emily blurted, surprising herself as the words fell out of her mouth.

“Yeah,” Derek replied, “What’s the point of probing? Don’t they have good enough technology that they could just scan someone and know what’s up?”

“I mean, yeah,” Emily said with a laugh, “But I was talking about JJ.”

She paused.

“Did I push too hard?” Emily mused, “Was it my fault?”

Emily didn’t plan to vent to Derek. She hadn’t really told him the details yet, as she was still embarrassed after Thanksgiving weekend. Telling Derek’s entire family about how she had a girlfriend and then immediately getting dumped was not great for the ego.

She learned early that it was safer keeping things to herself.

Emily had done just about anything to fit in when she was younger. She was desperate to be normal. To be someone that wasn’t the weird queer girl that moved around a lot. She learned languages, learned cultures. She learned how to wear the right clothes, say the right thing. She tried so, so hard to be normal, and yet she never seemed to do it right.

In her senior year, Emily finally gave up. She dyed her hair, did her make up in a way she knew enraged her mother, and dressed the exact opposite of what the other kids did.

Since then, Emily was trying to focus on being herself. Derek was her first friend to really accept her for her, and over the past year and a half, she felt herself beginning to relax around him. In her second year at college, she was no longer the new kid.

She had started to feel comfortable with him, and all of their new friends, so she was kicking herself for letting things with JJ blow up in her face. She should have known this was all too good to be true.

“Em,” Derek said, “You can’t blame yourself. There’s definitely more going on with her that we don’t know.”

“Did Pen say something?” Emily said hopefully.

“I don’t know,” Derek said, rubbing the back of his neck, “She hasn’t said anything outright, ‘cause, y’know it’s all so complicated. We’re friends with both of you. But she made it seem like it wasn’t just you.”

Emily gulped at the guilt she felt when she thought of how all of this with JJ must be hurting her friends. They had all gotten so close this semester, and she hated the thought of ruining it for everyone.

“It’s not you, it’s me,” Emily said with a sardonic laugh.

“Essentially,” he said.

“Look Prentiss,” Derek said, “I think this is just a hiccup. You’ll figure it out. You two just need to talk and stop running from each other.”

“How do I get her to stop running from me?” Emily asked, her dream vivid in her mind once again.

“Wait it out,” he said, “She’ll come back to you eventually. For now, eat some mango.”

He offered her the dessert, some mango and sticky rice that they had gotten to share. Emily took some with a grin.

She could wait. JJ was worth waiting for.

———

Emily was almost ready for bed when she heard a knock at her door. Derek had stayed for most of the evening, watching tv and talking for hours to keep her mind off of things. He had wandered out around nine, as he had an early practise the next morning.

She was just about to get undressed after brushing her teeth and washing her face. She stood in the centre of her room with her fly half undone as she heard the sound. She zipped her pants back up and walked to her door, unlocking it, expecting to see Derek returning for something that he had forgotten. Instead, she was face to face with Jennifer Jareau.

“Hi,” JJ said. “Can we talk?”

In JJ’s hands was a large tin filled with homemade chocolate chip cookies. They were piled high in the tin, perfectly baked with picturesque chocolate chips still warm from the oven. On JJ’s face was a nervous expression as she held out the gift for Emily to take.

Emily stood and stared at JJ, wondering if she was real or if she had finally snapped and was hallucinating.

A moment passed. JJ smiled nervously at her, big blue eyes boring into Emily’s own.

Emily took the cookies.

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds tv #jemily #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #jemily cm #jj x emily #emily prentiss x jennifer jareau #fanfiction #fanfic #jemily fanfiction #gravelyhumerus cm college au #my post #my writing #sweater weather au #sorry for the delay!!!!#life got in the way

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honey-makki · 4 years

Text

No Other Shade of Blue

Characters: Oikawa Tooru X Fem!Reader Summary: Your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in. Warnings: implied cheating Song: hoax- taylor swift Genre: angst Word Count: 1.2k+

A/N: God I must hate being happy? All i know is angst, be gay, eat hot chip and lie. Anyways here’s this. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Monday afternoon is you and Oikawa’s designated date time. The volleyball club doesn’t practice and there shouldn’t be any large assignments that either of you have to deal with that early in the week. Yet again, for the third week in a row, you are sitting alone at your favorite tucked away spot overlooking the ocean. Why did he cancel this week? They don’t have any practice matches coming up. We just finished midterms so homework shouldn’t be an issue. Sitting here, sipping at your now cold tea, you can’t figure out a reason and he didn’t provide you with one. You sit here for a while until you see Iwaizumi in the distance, unsure if he should approach. As one of your neighbors, he’s seen you head this way more than once. After watching you give him a kind smile and pat the spot next to you, he shuffles down the brick-ladden walkway, stumbling once or twice in the darkness. “Hey, Y/N. Oikawa seemed even bubblier than normal today, so I’m assuming you had a good date planned. How was it?” he asks casually.

The pained look on your face before you turn to look out at the deep blue of the ocean that’s almost completely concealed by the night sky, says all the words you didn’t. You both sit there for some time, taking in the hum of the city in the distance, waves slapping against the cliff and your heavy breathing. In. hold. Out. hold. Oikawa could be happy for plenty of reasons, or something could have come up after Iwaizumi saw him. He hasn’t given you a real reason to be worked up. Just keep breathing. You keep it together longer than you expected you would. Holding your tears, tensing your muscles to stop from shaking made your nerves burn after some time. Iwaizumi may not be your closest friend, but he does care about you as a person, and as his bestfriends girlfriend. He pulls you into a soft, comforting side hug and mumbles into the darkness “Y/N, I just want you to know that I don’t know of anything he's done that should make you cry like this. Maybe you should just talk to him about your concerns? I still can be here as a shoulder to cry on if you need it though.” You calm down after a few minutes, your body now no longer burning, its just ash. Leaving for school in the morning you are greeted by Oikawa at your door with your favorite breakfast food. Voice dripping with almost sickeningly sweet adoration, “Y/N-chan!! I’m so sorry for not being able to see you yesterday so I hope this food helps make it up to you! Maybe you can come to practice today and I’ll walk you home after some post practice serves?” You immediately take him up on the offer, any concerns leaving your head as he shows that he wants to see you. Yesterday was just a small scar on your heart. It’s there but it's just one and it’s so small, it shouldn't be a problem, right? The week flew by and you’ve been going to the Seijoh practices just so you can see Oikawa, even if he can't really talk to you. There are almost always a handful of people in here, changing out every day. Sometimes it's a pair hanging out and just talking while watching them practice, someone else's significant other or good friend. Every once in a while people studied in here, the slap of the ball hitting the ground providing a rhythmic beat to study to. Lately, there have been recurring randoms which isn’t the weirdest thing that's happened at practice, especially since Mad Dog is back, but the weird part is how much attention Oikawa pays them. It should be the other way around, women and men alike flocked to his charming but cocky attitude, paired with his good looks? People stared at him quite frequently, but him paying attention to others? Interesting. You stew on your thoughts for the rest of this practice and decide to bring something up to him if it continues later in the week.

Thursday, they are there, but Oikawa doesn’t look at them a single time. He is looking at you so often that it’s affecting his play style. ‘Shittykawa’ and ‘Loserkawa’ echo throughout the gym ceaselessly. You know how much volleyball means to him, so if he's ignoring that for you, then he must love you more? You can’t even remember what those two girls look like, head full of thoughts about you and Oikawa.

“Y/N!” Oikawa shouts into the stands as he starts gathering up the last of the volleyballs on the floor. You know that means he’s done for the day and the two of you can head home for the evening. Before he gets into the changing room you catch his hand pulling him close, and whisper into his neck, “Tooru, you seemed so distracted today at practice? Something on your mind?” Following it up with kisses from his neck to his lips. The slightest moan slips through his lips, before he can compose himself.

With a wink, he laughs and says, “Just thinking about the love of my life and what she would look like on her knees.” Before you can comprehend, he’s off, shouting that he's gonna take a quick shower before walking you home. You feel butterflies, you are his, The Great King’s. You are his queen and the world is your kingdom. This week, just another tiny scar on your heart. So small that it couldn't cause any problems.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A month or so after the first time you and Iwaizumi were at the cliffside together, you show up and he is already there. This is a little weird and unexpected so you clear your throat making your presence known, not wanting to intrude if he doesn’t want company. Without even turning around he pats the seat next to him, he knows it's you, no one else would come to this spot at 11pm on a weekday. You sit still and silent, waiting for the spikers lead.

After a deep breath he looks over to you with what might be the most emotion he's ever portrayed, but the scary part is its saddest smile you've ever seen. Still unsure of what is happening, you whisper, “Hey, Iwa? Is everything ok? Are you hurt?” Searching his eyes for an answer and all you find is pity.

He pulls you into a hug and says he needs to talk to you about Oikawa. As soon as his name passed through his lips you knew what was coming. The knife in your back being twisted, sleepless nights, no way to stop your kingdom from coming undone.

------

The hardest lesson you ever learned is that, even though sometimes you would rather hurt than give up something good, it's never the right decision. If you were being honest with yourself, you still haven't really learned it.The scars Oikawa left on your heart, may never heal but, as much as it hurts to say, you wouldn’t mind that. He was your greatest love, your pride and joy, the reason you woke up every morning. If they disappeared, maybe you would forget all the good times. You wouldn’t want any other sadness this world had to offer. You don’t want just any shade of blue, you want white and teal and him. The only thing that you know you shouldn’t want.

Tags: @lydzisanerd @roandtheroses @karasu-hoes

#oikawa toru #oikawa tooru #hq #hq!!#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#oikawa toru x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa tōru #oikawa angst #kristen writes #folklore series

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mopeytropey · 4 years

Photo

a beer buds series: chapter 5

newest update available below the cut and on AO3 here :) those of you anticipating more of gay disaster!Lexa should be pleased ...

Timeline: takes place between chapters 4 and 5 of 'apu' after Clarke attempts to host a dinner party only to have Lexa arrive as her only guest

Beer: Sunday Paper IMPERIAL STOUT WITH COFFEE

The smoothness of this beer belies it’s 9.9% ABV. Fresh roasted coffee nose leads into a smooth and rich roasted dark chocolate and coffee flavor with hints of dried black cherries.

ABV 9.9%

Sunday Paper Imperial Stout: Exhibit A (Framingham, MA)

Lexa has settled into the worn comfort of Lincoln’s sofa for all of six minutes before a large, curious ball of grey fur is sitting beside her. The cat blinks up at her with its owlish eyes the color of rust, and Lexa smiles while rubbing behind its ears.

“I still can’t believe you’ve named your cat after my father.”

“Come on! Tell me she doesn’t look exactly like Gus!” Lincoln shouts from the nearby kitchen.

The cat begins to purr at Lexa’s doting touch, and she thinks it enhances the resemblance even further. A docile temperament hidden beneath the imposing stature of her father. Uniform grey coloring gives way to a wide swath of darker fur beneath the cat’s chin, cascading down its chest like an unkempt beard. Lexa smiles again. Gus the cat has a bulky frame but is gentle and affectionate. She thinks the comparison is entirely apt.

“She’s bigger than when I was here last,” Lexa observes as Lincoln enters the room carrying two glasses of dark beer with heavy foam.

“She eats like a horse,” he laughs, setting a drink in front of Lexa before collapsing onto the other end of his couch. “Plus, I’m fairly certain Octavia is spoiling her with extra treats. Cheers, buddy.”

Gus abandons her immediately for the comfort of Lincoln’s lap while Lexa retrieves her glass.

She reaches down the short expanse of sofa cushions to clink her glass against Lincoln’s. “How drunk am I going to be after this one?”

“Imperial stout. 9.9%,” Lincoln smiles. “But, I’ve got lasagna and garlic bread in the oven to compensate.”

“So I’ll be hungover and doubling my running route tomorrow. Thanks a lot.”

“What are friends for?” Lincoln beams. “Hey! We should do 1A down to the island and back—weather is supposed to be super mild tomorrow and I’m done with my meetings by 4:00.”

The route past Clarke’s house.

The new information of Clarke’s residence is like a hot coal buried deep in Lexa’s stomach. The architecture. The pungent smell of the marshes. Seeing Clarke backdropped by her own surroundings had completed so much of the picture Lexa has been composing for months. Everything about the house, and Clarke in it, made sense—from the colors of her open kitchen to the art hung on the walls to the spiral staircase that Clarke practically forbade Lexa to ascend.

She swallows, wondering if the blush she feels on her cheeks will show in the low light of Lincoln’s living room. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“So, how was it on Tuesday? Sorry we bailed.”

Not for the first time, Lexa wonders if Lincoln has somehow infiltrated her inner thoughts based on the timeliness of his ask. The inquiry does nothing to lessen her blush, but Lexa hides further embarrassment behind a large sip of stout.

“You mean showing up for a dinner party to find you’re the only guest in attendance? Not awkward at all, that’s for sure.”

Gus seems to vacillate between the two of them for a moment, finally curling against Lexa’s leg and pushing her paws into Lexa’s thigh when she sinks her hand into thick, soft fur. The sound of Gus’s purring is amplified by Lincoln’s quiet apartment, and Lexa begins to relax with its perpetual hum.

“Yeah, but it’s Clarke,” Lincoln laughs. “I’m sure you guys had fun without us anyway.”

Lexa can’t decide if he’s really so oblivious or playing dumb for her sake, but she looks at him like he’s sprouted a second, immaculately shaved head anyway. She is tempted to recount every movement, and look, and smile, and gesture that she was forced to endure in Clarke’s company that made her feel, in fact, incredibly awkward. And, unsure. Anxious. Elated. Questioning every decision she’d ever made in her life to that point.

But, sure: fun is more succinct.

“We had a nice time.” Lexa smiles into her beer, remembering. “I think I talked a lot.”

“I’m sorry—what?” Lincoln further mocks her by cupping a hand around his ear as if to hear her more clearly.

“You’re such an ass. Why do I even hang out with you?”

“I’ve been grandfathered in,” Lincoln shrugs.

“When we were out on the boat, Clarke shared some things with me—personal things—and it felt like it was time to reciprocate.”

“Her dad?” Lincoln asks in a far more cautious tone. Lexa nods, taking another sip of the dense, dark beer. “The way the girls talk about him, he sounds incredible. A great guy to have lost so soon. O says the Griffins practically raised her. She really loved Jake.”

“I think Clarke’s connection with him was quite strong.”

Lincoln slowly nods through a heavy sigh. “So, how much of the backlog did you offer up in return? How far back into the Brooklyn archives did chatty Lexa venture?”

He’s broken the mood, and Lexa gives him a grateful smile. “Quite a bit, actually. I was also sort of high at the time.” Lincoln almost chokes on a sip of beer as Lexa shrugs. “But, I’m glad I told her. It felt good to talk about it.”

“Yeah.” Lincoln’s dark eyes have taken on a distant quality, and Lexa suspects he may be thinking of Octavia. Perhaps he’s thinking of all the parts of his dark history that he’s been able to share with someone as strong and resilient and unwavering as her. For someone as reticent as Lincoln, it must feel like infinite relief to give that part of himself to someone else. “We beat some shit odds, didn’t we?” he finally says.

Lexa exhales a humorless laugh. “Understatement.”

It had been a childhood of survival for them both. Anya too. But then they found each other, and it started to feel less harrowing, less isolating and alone. Even when they lost track of one another—transported from one family to another, in different boroughs, different schools—Anya taught them to rely on a network of trusted contacts. Information from other kids in the system became the string that kept them tied together.

And then, during that frightening summer when Lexa was thirteen and Anya disappeared, lost to another state—shipped halfway across the country—Lexa wouldn’t let them rest until she and Lincoln found her. It would be another eight months before Anya landed back on New York City asphalt and Lexa could breathe steadily again.

A timer sounding off in the kitchen breaks the atmosphere again, and Lincoln sets his beer down to briskly stand from the couch. “I’m gonna check on the lasagna. You good on beer?”

Lexa eyes him, incredulous. “I’ll be drinking this same beer in an hour. Quit trying to get me drunk.” Her phone buzzes while Lincoln exits, his laughter trailing after him.

Clarke’s name on her phone screen has Lexa shifting around on the couch, setting down her beer and resting her elbows on her knees. That now familiar coil of excitement swirls in her stomach as she opens the message.

Clarke Griffin (6:07PM): new artist featured at the coffee shop has some amazing photography of NY

Clarke Griffin (6:07PM): red hook, I think?

Lexa gives in to the tug at her lips, the way Clarke’s innocuous observation blooms warmth in her chest because of its casual consideration.

Clarke had been thinking of her.

She more often tries to suppress the way her mind wants to calculate just how much Clarke thinks of her. But tonight, she allows it. Even a momentary concession has Lexa biting at her lips to keep her smile from spreading.

(6:08PM): Clarke, please tell me you are not drinking coffee at six pm.

Clarke Griffin (6:08PM): Ok. Lexa, I am not drinking coffee at 6pm.

Lexa is readying her next reply, gently chastising Clarke for her irresponsible caffeine intake for what is likely the hundredth time, when Lincoln’s voice announces his return to the room.

“What’s Costia up to tonight?”

A lurch in her chest has Lexa nearly dropping her phone onto the floor. Mention of Costia while staring at an innocent message from Clarke is like a head-on collision in her brain. She blinks, closing her phone all together and setting it carefully on the table beside her beer.

It shouldn’t feel like an irritant, like vinegar in an open wound, but Lincoln asking after Costia grates the skin at the back of her neck.

Lexa works to remain calm, grinds her jaw, and goes for vague nonchalance. “Boston. Working late.”

“Damn, that sucks. Again?” Lincoln returns to the sofa and stretches his arm along the back cushions. Gus had since wandered off during Lexa’s less-than-scandalous text exchange about photography, but she returns to nuzzle at Lincoln’s calves.

“Par for the course,” Lexa exhales, willing herself to ease the raised hackles she feels along her spine.

Lincoln’s tone is sympathetic. “It’s been happening a lot lately, huh?”

After another sip of beer, Lexa turns into the couch, folding one leg beneath the other. “I’ve lost track, honestly.”

“We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to, but I have a lot of questions.”

Lexa runs her fingers through her hair and stares at the drink held in her right hand. She doesn’t like to think about all the ins and outs and what-ifs of her current relationship, let alone voice her wandering thoughts aloud. But, Lincoln is a good friend—more than that, he is an integral part of her found family. She finishes the last quarter of her pint in two or three gulps.

“I’m probably going to require more beer.”

Lincoln smiles kindly, patting her kneecap before taking the empty glass and standing once again. “More of the same? Or do you want to try something else?”

Lexa stops herself from asking for an entire bottle of whiskey. “What else do you have?”

“Come have a look,” Lincoln offers.

She follows him into a petite kitchen, further dwarfed by Lincoln’s immense stature.

“It smells amazing in here.”

“Should be ready in the next half hour or so,” Lincoln tells her as he swings open the fridge door. There is a low shelf stocked entirely with various cans of beer. “Pick your poison.”

Lexa squats onto her haunches to examine a few of the labels, in the end deciding on an IPA she remembers seeing on the taps at Dockside.

“That’s a good one. Octavia is obsessed with it,” Lincoln tells her as he opens his cabinets for a fresh glass and snaps the tab on the beer can for her. He hands over the new glass of beer before rinsing the can and tossing it into a squat recycling bin beside his trash can.

Lexa rests the small of her back against the edge of his kitchen counters and enjoys her first sip while Gus winds around her ankles and flicks her bushy tail.

“Octavia has good taste.”

“Tell me something I didn’t already know,” Lincoln smirks.

Lexa shakes her head in mock astonishment. “Legitimately. Such an ass.”

His smile transforms to something more genuine as Lincoln props his weight against the counter opposite. “She’s a complete workaholic—never stops thinking about the job, reading up on new techniques, emerging brewers, hop varietals. All of it. The success of that bar is her life. She lives and breathes it, and it shows.”

“But she—” Lexa adjusts the fit of her plaid button down, swallows her uncertainties with another sip of beer, and forces herself to engage in a conversation she has long since ignored. “You two still spend a lot of time together?”

“I think the fact that our mutual interests and careers virtually overlap sort of helps. But, yeah, I think regardless of that, we would still make time for each other.”

Lexa can only nod in response, returning to her beer in lieu of anything profound to say in turn.

“Are you guys able to spend any time together at this point? Costia’s schedule seems heinous.”

“We are. Here and there,” Lexa shrugs. “We went to see an exhibit at the MFA last weekend, which was nice.” Lexa frowns at the floor. “None of this is her fault. She tries.”

“There’s not always someone at fault when things stop working,” Lincoln says, not unkindly.

It doesn’t stop Lexa from grinding her jaw on instinct.

“I moved here for her. If we were to—I don’t even know what I would do if that happened.”

“Lex, you told me months ago that you were moving here to sort things out—not just with Costia, but with yourself, too.”

Lexa nods again and answers softly. “I know.”

“Let me ask you this: if Costia’s schedule were different, if she were able to do what she loved in school while also making more time for you and her, would it make you want to hang out any less with, you know, other people?”

Not so oblivious then.

He doesn’t have to say her name explicitly—the knowing look they share speaks volumes. Lexa looks away and licks her lips, stalling a response as her pulse quickens.

“I don’t know if—”

Her half-formed response is interrupted by Lincoln’s phone ringing on the counter beside him. He grins as he picks up the call.

“Speak of the devil. Hey, Clarke.”

Lexa sips her beer helplessly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as her mind races. He’s answered the call on speaker, and Lexa braces for the distinct rasp of Clarke’s voice.

“Hey, it’s me,” Octavia answers, her voice sharp and distinct in it’s own way, and Lexa relaxes by a fraction.

“Oh! Hey, it’s you. Why are you calling from Clarke’s phone?”

“I can’t fucking find mine. Have you seen it at yours?”

“Uh, no,” Lincoln answers, nevertheless casting his eyes around the kitchen surfaces for any sign of it. “I can look around for it though.”

“We’re actually parked outside—”

“Hi, Lincoln!”

Clarke’s voice pipes through at a distance—as if Octavia hasn’t put the call on speaker but Clarke wanted to be included anyway. Lexa tenses in an instant.

“—on our way to Abby’s for dinner. Do you mind if I run up for a sec?”

“No, of course not. Come on up.”

“Are you sure? I’m not trying to interrupt your bro date with Lexa.”

“Hi, Lexa!”

“Clarke, is it possible for you to have any chill for longer than ninety seconds?” Octavia snaps.

A short and hushed squabble ensues over the next several seconds, likely within the confines of Clarke’s car. Lincoln shares a smile with Lexa across the small expanse of his kitchen as her stomach jumps with nervous energy.

“I’ll be up in a second,” Octavia grumbles.

She’s at the front door a moment later, and Lexa lingers by the kitchen doorway while Lincoln greets her with a brief kiss.

“Hey, Lexa.”

“Hi.” Lexa offers a half wave.

“I’ll be out of here so quickly, I swear.”

“Don’t worry about it. Do you want help looking?”

“Nah, I’m good. Clarke wants to talk to you anyway.”

This jolts Lexa to a standstill where she had begun to move slowly towards the sofa with Gus at her heels.

“Oh, she—I uh,” Lexa swallows down a fresh set of nerves that Octavia doesn’t seem to notice.

“Babe, can you check the back deck while I look in your bedroom? I was out there this morning for a little while, and I might have left it on one of the chairs.”

“Sure,” Lincoln answers, his arm still slung around Octavia’s waist as he leans down to kiss the top of her head.

They’re both gone from the room in another instant, leaving Lexa standing awkwardly between the front door and the couch where Gus has perched herself atop the back cushions. Lexa hesitates for long seconds, adjusting the rolled sleeves of her shirt while gnawing her lip as the decision to stay or go to Clarke flits irritatingly against her conscience.

Gus observes her solemnly, and she swears it’s the same look her own father pinned on her during that summer she turned sixteen and formed an unwavering desperation to impress Nathalie Rivera, who Lexa did not, irrefutably, have a crush on. Even going so far as to bribe Lincoln into teaching her the Spanish he’d picked up from his new foster mom. Lexa’s determination to get her attention could not be deterred, but she was not romantically interested in any way, Anya’s accusational taunts be damned.

“Don’t give me that look,” Lexa tells the cat as she rests her beer on Lincoln’s coffee table, slips into her shoes, and heads for the door.

She practically sprints (without logical cause) down the flight of interior stairs to the main door, which opens onto a front walk, at the end of which sits Clarke’s silver car. Lexa manages to calm her breathing enough by the time she reaches the driver’s side of the car that she’s not visibly out-of-breath, but her lungs feel constricted nonetheless.

“Hey!” Clarke beams as she slips from the driver’s seat when she notices Lexa approaching.

“Hi.”

Lexa forces her mouth closed to keep from audibly stuttering. Clarke is often dressed at Dockside in an expansive wardrobe that feels like a personal attack on Lexa’s wellbeing. But, something about seeing Clarke in jeans and a warm sweater, looking casually elegant for a dinner with her mother, has Lexa stumbling over basic conversation skills like she hasn’t in years.

“You’re, um, you guys have—” she clears her throat, completely ineffectually, and Clarke very poorly hides her amusement.

“We’re on our way to my mom’s. Raven just got this major promotion so we’re celebrating by letting her cook us dinner.”

Lexa places her hands into her front pockets and smiles at Clarke as if her whole body doesn’t feel like a brittle, shaken leaf.

“You maintain very bizarre friendships.”

“That’s an interesting take coming from one of my best friends.”

“I didn’t know what I was getting into,” Lexa smirks. “Clearly.”

Clarke looks away with a laugh and leans against the side of her car to cross her arms along her stomach. The gold of her necklace pendant glints in the streetlamp above them. She nods towards the house at Lexa’s back when her laughter has subsided.

“Sorry we crashed.” Clarke’s face scrunches prettily with guilt, and Lexa makes the wise decision to avert her eyes with a shrug.

“It’s totally fine. Unavoidable emergency, right?”

“Or, they just devised a pathetic excuse to makeout for a few minutes.”

“Right,” Lexa laughs. She cranes her neck to look back at the house. “Maybe I shouldn’t have left them alone.”

“At this rate, they could be grabbing a quickie.”

It’s now Lexa who is twisting her mouth at Clarke’s overt sexual reference, hiding embarrassment behind disgust. “Clarke, ew.”

It only serves to make Clarke laugh again, and Lexa is forced to look away a second time.

“So what’s up? Did you need something? Or, did you just really miss me?”

“What?” Lexa must look horror-stricken because Clarke is sputtering more laughter. “No, I’m just—Octavia said you wanted to see me.”

Smooth. Very smooth.

“I didn’t—” Clarke starts to protest, looking a little unnerved herself before rolling her eyes. “She’s an ass.”

The familiar insult makes Lexa laugh, and Clarke smiles in kind. “She’s well matched then.”

“Lincoln? An ass?” Clarke looks scandalized. “No!”

Lexa shakes her head with a long sigh. “You have no idea.”

A charged moment between them stretches taut, as it so often does, and Lexa is reminded of all the other moments that have preceded it.

Tuesday night spent salvaging a failed dinner party.

A blissful day on the water in Clarke’s boat.

Coffee along the harbor.

Aimless walks about town. Lingering goodbyes.

And, countless other instances in which Lexa must fight this same impulse. She’s not at liberty to admit to such wants, let alone act on them, but the thought of kissing Clarke persists behind a veneer of practiced composure.

Sometimes Lexa thinks that if Clarke were to lean in, make the decision for them both, she would let her.

Clarke is too good a person to make such advances; even hoping for such an outcome is wildly unfair, and Lexa hates herself a little bit for it.

She wears a regretful smile that she presumes Clarke has come to recognize—the way it is reflected back to her as Lexa sighs. “So, I guess I’m going to head back up. Lincoln has promised me twice my weight in carbs.”

“Ooh!” Clarke’s eyes light up as they so often do at the mention of food. “What’s on the menu?”

“Lasagna.” The answer comes from over Lexa’s shoulder, and she turns to see Octavia ambling down the front walk with a small plate and a mouthful of pasta. “And, it’s so, fucking good.”

“Aren’t you two on your way to dinner?”

Octavia shrugs, “Appetizer.”

“I hope you know you’re sharing that with me,” Clarke tells her as Octavia rounds the car and opens the passenger door.

“You’ll have to pry the fork from my cold, dead fingers.”

Clarke scoffs, opening her own door. “As if cutlery has ever stopped me from stealing food off your plate.”

“I’ll see you guys later,” Lexa smiles, taking one or two backwards steps towards the house.

“Later, dude,” Octavia answers before closing herself into the car.

Clarke smiles warmly, her eyes softening even as Lexa creates more distance between them. “Bye.”

Lexa can feel the warmth of Clarke’s gaze at the base of her stomach, swirling lazily. “Bye.”

She ascends Lincoln’s stairs briskly, determined to figure out her emotional baggage sooner rather than later and finally get her life together.

:::

#a beer bud series #apu #a pleasant undoing #brewkru!#clexa fic

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gallavictorious · 4 years

Text

Fic: Pressure

He is eleven and Sandy tells him keep still while she trims the hair on the side of his head with a look of outmost concentration on her face. He is seventeen and tells the wide-eyed kid before him that he'll cut his fucking tongue out if he tries to kiss him. He is twenty-three and wakes up to bright sunlight in his eyes and someone's arm draped over his waist.

Mickey, being touched. It's complicated.

---

He is six and he can't hold back the tears because his foot really hurts and he wants his mom to come pick him up and hug him tight until the pain passes, but his mom isn't there and his dad tells him to stop with his goddamn whining and just put some fucking ice on it. Milkovich men don't go running to their mama like some fucking faggot over a twisted ankle anyway, they man the fuck up and deal with it. Mickey's not a man yet, he doesn't think, but he's pretty sure he's supposed to be one soon, so he doesn’t stop crying but he limps to the freezer to get the ice.

He is nine and walking home from school with Joey when they spot Jimmy Linetti and Sarah Sengupta under a tree in the park. Jimmy is lying on his back with his head in Sarah's lap and she's putting flowers in his hair and they're laughing and there's something about the whole thing that makes Mickey feel... Well. He dunno. He feels something and he doesn't like it, it's weird and he needs it to go away. Joey follows him without question – does that already – as Mickey cuts across the grass and at first there's only curiosity in Jimmy's trusting eyes but it soon gives way to confusion and hurt and Sarah runs off and as Mickey aims a final kick at Jimmy's curled up body he feels a rush of something that, for a moment, is stronger than fear.

He is eleven and Sandy tells him keep still while she trims the hair on the side of his head with a look of outmost concentration on her face. He's not sure she knows what she's doing, and maybe he'll have to shave his whole fucking head once she's done, but whatever, she asked if she could and she's his favourite cousin, so yeah. Occasionally her fingers brush over his scalp; her arm rests on his shoulder for a moment; she grabs hold of his chin to tilt his head this way or that, and he bites his lip, hard, and he sits very, very still and doesn't make a sound.

He is still eleven and Stephen isn't exactly a friend but they've been in the same class for years and years and now there's a science project and Stephen's mom is having a party with her friends or something so they're at Mickey's house. Maybe they do try to study for the first half hour or so but it's a hot day and there's ice cream in the freezer and the walk there somehow turns into a race, with them jostling and pushing at each other, playfully, the way real friends would. They end up on the kitchen floor, rolling around, and they're laughing between insults when his dad walks in and tells them to cut it out because they look like a couple of queers tangled like that. Terry grabs a beer and disappears again. Mickey and Stephen climb to their feet in silence. They don't get ice cream and they don't talk to each other outside of class again.

He is thirteen and he's always been small for his age but it's never really been too much of a problem until now, until his first stint in juvie. The Milkovich name offers some protection and some measure of notoriety here but it offers challenges, too; people who want to see if he can live up to it; if he's as tough as his brothers and his cousins and his father. It's the second day and the boy behind him in the cafeteria line is several years older, almost twice his size, and he didn't actually push Mickey, just put his hand on his shoulder to get his attention, so maybe Mickey could let it go – except, no, he really fucking can't, can he? He ends up with bruised knuckles, the other kid in the ward, and they give him another month for it, but as he walks down the halls and no one moves to stand in his way, as people moves out of it instead, he knows that it was worth it.

He is fifteen and Iggy tells him that maybe he should go down to the clinic because the gash in his arm is pretty deep and he's not real good with stitches, man. Mickey swears at him and tells him to get the fuck on with and stop being such a pussy, it's just fucking stitches. It hurts like a motherfucker when the needle Iggy's boiled goes through his flesh, but he's had worse, and cursing helps with the pain, somewhat. Mickey can tell that Iggy's doing his best to be quick about it; doing his best to gentle when he's put the needle away and is wrapping up the wound. ”Jesus Christ,” Mickey snaps before chugging the beer Colin hands him, ”quit it with the goddamned concerned nurse shit and finish the fuck up.”

He is sixteen and Mandy is laughing as she breaks the embrace by poking her fingers into his ribs, hard. He laughs too as he moves to retaliate. They don't, like, hug a lot, because what kind of pussies go around hugging their fucking siblings all the time, but sure, if he's getting out of juvie or she's back from a summer with their aunt in Springfield, like now, they'll wrap their arms around each other and hold on tight for just a moment. Nothing weird about that. Mandy's his baby sister, and he's gotta look out for her, because that's what you do, you look out for your family. And girls, even tough ones like Mandy, they need hugs and that sort of shit, 'cause they have all these emotions or whatever. So yeah, he'll give her a fucking hug when they haven't seen each other in a few months, why the fuck wouldn't he, it's not like he's got anything to feel insecure about, so you can fuck right off if you have a problem with it.

He is seventeen and tells the wide-eyed kid before him that he'll cut his fucking tongue out if he tries to kiss him. Sex is one thing – even if it's the kind of sex his dad would kill him for having – 'cause that's just fucking urges, right? Goddamned biology or whatever. Everybody wants to get off. Kissing though... That's different. That's some fucking gay shit, and he doesn't fucking do gay shit, and if Gallagher puts his hands over Mickey's when they bang in the Kash 'N' Grab back room a few weeks later and Mickey doesn't tell him to fuck right off, that's still just sex. It's just sex.

He is eighteen and he kisses Ian because fuck you, he ain't scared of shit, and Ian's lips are dry and soft and there's a jolt of something warm and thrilling that feels a bit like horniness and a bit like somethinge else entirely.

He is nineteen and he's been sharing a bed with Ian for weeks but it's the first time Ian's wrapped his arms around Mickey from behind, full-on spooning him, and Mickey stiffens for just a moment – but then he relaxes into the touch, into Ian's arms, because he's fucking earned this. Bought the right with blood and broken teeth and if the whole fucking world is gonna know he's gay anyway he might as well have Ian's chest pressed against his back, Ian's leg pushed between his, and the soft press of Ian's lips against his shoulder before they both close their eyes and drift off to sleep.

He is twenty-two and the inmate moonlighting as prison barber hums while he works. His hand is hot and heavy on Mickey's forehead and Mickey wants him to take it the fuck away because... because it's fucking hot and heavy, that's why. Makes him feel like he's got a grilled fucking pork chop pressed to his face, real sexy, and he's sent people to the infirmary for less. But there's another part of him that doesn't want the barber to take away shit, and well, he'd look pretty stupid throwing a fit over it anyway, so he keeps quiet. Returns for a haircut the next month, and the next.

He is twenty-three and wakes up to bright sunlight in his eyes and someone's arm draped over his waist. It takes him a moment to realize that the weight is wrong, the smell is wrong, this isn't Ian behind him. He starts then, violently; sits up to stare down at... Gabriél, who's staring back at him with a frown. ”¿Que pasa?” he murmurs, sleepy still, but Mickey doesn't answer because how fucking drunk was he last night if he didn't only let Gabriél come back to his place but let him fucking stay there once they were done banging? He likes the guy okay, sure, he's got a nice cock and is fine to hang out with for a few drinks before they fuck, but Jesus. ”Yeah, you need to get the hell out of here,” he says, reaching for his cigarettes and ignoring the hurt look in Gabriél's eyes. ”¡Sal! ¡Vamos!” That fucking faggot better not make an issue out of it, because Mickey is this close to punching him in the face. Maybe Gabriél senses that, because he leaves without another word. Mickey doesn't call him again.

He is twenty-five and his husband shifts slightly to accomodate him as Mickey plops down next to him on the couch. Ian's arm snakes around his waist, his hand settling on Mickey's stomach as Mickey leans back against him and turns his head slightly for a quick kiss. ”If you two gonna make out the whole time again I'm leaving,” Carl warns from the armchair. ”Yeah, no one cares, fuckhead,” Mickey replies, even as he is smiling, even as Ian assures his younger brother that they'll be good, fingers momentarily digging into Mickey's flesh, not quite painfully. On Mickey's other side Debbie's got Franny on her lap and Liam propped up against her legs on the floor, and the smell of beer mixes with the smell of popcorn and of Ian, and Mickey breathes it in, once, twice, as his left hand finds his husband's, their fingers intertwining, hands rising and falling with every rise and fall of Mickey's chest, slow and steady and sure.

---

I treated the timeline like Shameless treats the timeline: with extreme liberty.

This fic was partly inspired by this discussion and my current obsession with Mickey's complicated relationship to touch. If you want to read different, smuttier and less vignette-y takes on Mickey, touch, violence, and love, I heartily recommend sadwhale's love, let your hands be tender and Captain_Jowl's Almost there.

#mickey milkovich #gallavich #the milkoviches #mickey has a very complicated relationship with being touched #tw: slurs #fic #my stuff

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hailbop1701 · 3 years

Text

Down The Rabbit Hole

John Kennex/OC

KennexWhump!

Hello, my loves! I have another request here from @zecklein! I really, really hope I did good and that you like it. This actually my first whump fic so it took me a while.

The city abuzz with activity despite the late hour. The sound of a persistent ringing broke the peace in the previously quiet apartment. A soft groan blindly reached over to grab the offending object off of the coffee table. “Speak and it better be good,” came an irritated female voice. “Sorry detective, we have another scene for you,” a voice said softly over the line. Another groan and the woman slowly moved off the couch, “Thanks Lewis, gimme the address and I’ll be right over.” she whispered tiredly. A soft chuckle echoed from the phone, “fall asleep on the couch again Thea?”

Thea scowled, “no,” she lied and winced at the crick in her neck and the shooting pain in her shoulder. Lewis paused hesitating, “the killer crossed districts,” he said as Thea sniffed at her laundry hunting for something clean. She froze holding a pair of jeans halfway to her nose, “You’re shitting me. He’s back, he’s been dormant for months! Same M.O. the same?” she asked. Lewis sighed, “Yes, and don’t get too crazy on this,” he scolded. Thea scowled putting her phone on speaker, “When am I not crazy?” she asked, pulling on the pair of jeans. She could practically see Lewis rolling his eyes, “How about all the damn time. Not a lot of people can work with you,” he said patiently.

Thea grabs a shirt that hung over the railing to the stairs that lead up to her bedroom, “I got nothin’” she said, pulling it over her head quickly. A huffed laugh made her smile, “I sent you the address and Max is waiting for you downstairs with coffee,” Lewis chuckled. “Oh Lewis if you weren’t gay I’d think you were being sweet on me,” she purred before hanging up. Pulling on her boots and shrugging on her cheap faux leather jacket Thea grabbed her bag and was out the door. She was ten feet from her door when she remembered she forgot her gun, “Oh it’s gonna be that kind of day,” she muttered, turning on her heels to go back.

A solid fifteen minutes and ten flights later; “the damn elevator is broken, really?” Thea was grumpily stalking over to her waiting MX. “Good morning detective,” he said in his usual monotone, Thea huffed and took the coffee he held out to her. “Not really Max,” she quipped back, getting into the driver's seat. Max tilted his head and moved to the passenger side after closing her door, “You’re blood pressure is unusually high, are you alright detective?” Max asked, looking at her like an over-talkative X-Ray machine. Thea wrinkled her nose and shifted in her seat, “I’m just tired Max, and maybe the fact that the killer I’ve been working so hard to catch has decided to meander over to a different district after taking a six-month-long cat nap!” she growled not taking her eyes off the road. Max was quiet for a moment as if he were thinking of the right words to say, “I pulled up the file on the detective you are working with,” he said with a blink of his eyes. Tightening her grip on the steering wheel Thea let out a breath; she picked up her coffee and took a long sip, “Okay, give it to me,”

Max looked ahead, “Detective John Kennex, 41 years of age. He has a successful career and he is single-” he said but stopped when Thea waved her hand, “What are you-stop. No, don’t even think about it,” she said whining. Max looked over at his human pointedly, “You are increasing in age detective Redding. It would serve to be in your best interest to procreate at-'' Thea screeched cutting off the android again, “No Max, you need to stop doing this shit! God, you’re worse than my mother!” she yelled. The MX closed his mouth and kept silent, the silence made Thea relax a little. “I can’t believe I got the MX who might have a personality, I blame the lightning that hit you last year,” she muttered, picking up her coffee again.

Max opened his mouth but closed it again with an audible click. After sitting in traffic a moment too long Thea turned on the siren and proceeded to drive up onto the sidewalk. Finishing her coffee in one long swig, she rolled down her window and tossed it in a garbage can as it passed by. Max turned his head to stare at her for a long moment, face void of emotion but Thea knew the look he was giving her anyway. It read, ‘really?’

“Don’t you fucking judge me, mister let me set you up with a murder victim’s husband,” Thea said pointing a finger. Max looked away again, “We are coming up on our destination,” he warned as Thea turned into a relatively abandoned parking lot. “Really? damn, I didn’t know that,” she said putting the vehicle into park. Thea got out of the car and strode over to where numerous CSI milling around with their arms crossed. She moved through the holographic police tape and nodded at the officer who had waved her on; knowing Max was right there she held out a hand for some gloves and they promptly appeared. Pulling them on Thea stopped by one of the two bodies, squatting down she checked the neck first. “No ligatures,” she whispered with a sigh.

“See John, I told you that you made a wrong turn.” a smooth voice echoed from behind Max. “I was just taking a detour!” another voice shot back. Thea rolled her eyes and held out her hand again, a penlight was dropped into it. She gently pulled open the dead woman’s mouth to peer inside, “Nothing obstructing the airway, and…” Thea turned the victims head to check behind the left ear, “the killer’s signature. Just perfect the asshole got brave and hunted outside his comfort zone,” she muttered. Standing up Thea turned around to see two men bickering close by, one android and one detective who was kinda cute. In a grumpy, ruffled kind of way. Thea cleared her throat looking at the two with raised eyebrows, “Murder in your own district and I beat you to the scene?” she joked testing the waters. The cute one opened his mouth to retort but was elbowed by the DRN in the ribs.

Max scrunched his eyebrows together, “But detective Redding you drove fifteen miles over the speed limit and then cut traffic by driving on the sidewalk,” he said matter of factly. A snort of laughter from Kennex made her eye twitch. Pinching the bridge of her nose and looking at the ground Thea pointed to the car, “begone you oversized lightning rod, you’ve lost crime scene privileges.” she said flatly. The MX hesitated before striding over to the car and getting into the passenger seat. Looking up again she saw that Kennex’s android had a hand covering his mouth to keep from laughing. Kennex laughed openly, not caring what so ever, “he’s such a handful,” Thea muttered with an eye roll. She held out her hand, “Detective Thea Redding. Sorry that this guy came into your neck of the woods, he’s been dormant for six months and I guess he wanted a change of scenery,” she said with a wince. The other detective took Thea’s hand; his engulfing hers, “John Kennex and that disco ball is Dorian. This is the twelfth body?” he asked letting go.

Thea huffed, “Yeah, he officially turned into a serial killer at body three and four. Married couple. What’s strange about the killings though is that they die of asphyxiation but they aren’t strangled and they didn’t choke on anything, and the tox screens come back normal. We’ve been working on going through each victim's histories hoping to find a connection between them but so far nothing besides the obvious,” she said nodding towards the wedding rings on each victim's left hands. She turned the dead woman to the side again and showed them the small carving behind the woman’s left ear. A heart.

“A heart?” Kennex asked, looking at Thea questioningly and she nodded lips in a thin line. The sun had come up by now and people who were walking by were starting to linger. Thea looked into the crowd with narrowed green eyes, “He’s meticulous but he seems random, I know for a fact that he’s not. I managed to narrow him down to a specific area then he disappeared, and now he’s outside his hunting grounds.” she ranted in frustration stepping aside letting the M.E. get to the body. “Maybe you were getting too close, were there any close calls?” Kennex asked almost reassuringly. Thea bit her lip and nodded, “Yeah the Pier. I managed to track him back to one of his dens. He managed to get there first and torched it. I saw him, sort of. Too much smoke and the flames were too big. I ran after him anyway and got shot in the shoulder for my trouble,” she said glaring at the growing crowd behind the police barrier. Dorian winced, “I’m guessing that’s when he disappeared?” he asked and Thea nodded and patted her pockets when her phone rang, she pulled it out of her back pocket and walked away to a quiet corner.

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Kennex looked at the crowd that gathered outside the police line, “Dorian do a scan, see if anything pops up.” he said quietly the android nodded and quickly recorded and scanned the crowd, names popping and saved for later. “What do you think?” Dorian asked looking over at him. John shrugged, “ I’m not sure yet. I do know she’s close to this one, it’s personal for her now-”

“No, not the case! I was talking about detective Redding herself!” Dorian interrupted smiling. John looked at his partner with a raised eyebrow, “What about her?” he asked, quickly turning his eye to the crime scene. Dorian’s lips twitched into a smirk, “I saw how you looked at her. And your heart rate increased when you shook her hand, not to mention your tes-” John whipped his head around and clapped a hand over Dorain’s mouth. “Don’t you even dare. Plus you promised to never do that again!” he hissed. Dorian held up his hands in surrender. John took his hand off Dorian’s mouth as Thea walked back to them pushing her phone into her back pocket, “I got word from my tech guy. On the last body, there was a cell phone, it didn’t belong to the VIC and it had some crazy encryption and obviously, it has taken them months to get into it. The thing is, it unlocked by itself,” she said shoving her hands into her jacket pockets with a deep frown on her face. John cleared his throat after he realized he was staring too long, “what did they find?” he asked, crossing his arms, “a single voicemail. They said they sent it to your precinct.” Thea said with a sigh. A CSI walked up to her side and handed over some evidence bags, “thanks,” she whispered, taking them and tech nodded before rushing off.

“Do you mind if I get a ride with you? I want Max to take these back to-'' Thea stopped when she saw John and Dorian’s faces, “You named your MX?” John asked with a surprised laugh and Thea nodded almost sheepishly. “Yeah, it sort of just happened, and then it stuck. He was struck by lightning and became like a Jewish mother,” she said grimacing. John opened his mouth to say something smart but he just couldn’t come up with anything, “Wow,” he muttered running a hand through his hair. “We’ll wait in the car detective,” Dorian said kindly. Thea smiled at him before jogging over to her police-issued vehicle. John shook his head, “how do you do that?” he asked the android who had just shrugged, “I don’t know man, but you should consider asking her out,” he said opening a door to the backseat of the car. “Stop that, what is it with you and my love life?” John asked, glaring at Dorian in the rearview mirror. The passenger side door suddenly opened making John jump ever so slightly, “Okay let’s go!” Thea said buckling. As John pulled out from the scene Thea bit her lip, “can we stop and get coffee?” she asked and John huffed amused. “Woman after my own heart,” he said heading for the closest shop. He didn’t notice the light pink of a blush spread over Thea’s cheeks. But Dorian did, he smiled and began to scheme.

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“- and then boom! He was struck by lightning!” Thea said gesturing wildly with her hands. John wheezed from laughing so hard while Dorian had a huge grin on his face, eyes dancing with amusement. “I don’t believe you. That is too perfect to happen in real life?” Kennex said with a shake of his head. Thea held a mock offended hand to her heart, “Why detective Kennex are you calling a lady a liar?” she asked with a mock southern belle accent. Kennex smirked and had the perfect retort when he was cut off by a voice over the main screen, “You’re no lady Redding! I’ve seen you drink alcoholics under the table,” Thea flipped off the screen but with a smile, “Fuck off Toby, and that guy deserved getting hustled in pool. He was an idiot. God that night...I’m never drinking tequila again.” she said with an eye roll and a grimace. The man on the screen tilted his head back and laughed before becoming serious again.

They walked into the bullpen, Thea’s eyes darting everywhere taking stock of the differences. A lean frazzled-looking man stood there holding onto a tablet bouncing on the balls of his feet. As soon as the trio was in range, the guy held out a hand for Thea to shake. “Hello, detective Redding! I heard from your techs Lewis and obviously Toby they had sent every report and bit of information you gathered on the killer, and I must say you’re very thorough,” he said it all without letting go of her. John sighed, “Rudy,” he said and the tech quickly let go and backed up. “Sorry, I’m Rudy,” he said nervously. Thea gave him a kind smile, “it’s nice to meet you Rudy. What do you have for me?” she asked sweetly. Rudy stuttered for a second before hitting a button on the tablet wordlessly, the disguised voice made Thea tense. She looked up at Toby but his image was gone.

“Hello detective Redding, how’s the investigation coming along? I’m sure an intelligent woman like yourself can figure it all out in time; before the next two bodies drop. Bodies eleven and twelve,” the killer clicked his tongue in a disapproving manner, “I disappointed detective, you’ve missed me again, though I do have to give it to you. You almost had me, that one sunny afternoon. The pier is such a big place, so easy to get lost. I had to cross district lines ahead of schedule. It took me some time I grant you, rabbit holes can be deep. How’s the shoulder?” the voice chuckled darkly adding in the last like an afterthought and Thea’s arm automatically jolted in pain at the memory. She hissed as the voice continued, “Detective Kennex I welcome you to the fold and I wish you luck; I feel like you’re going to need it.” he chuckled and then silence. “I feel like that was a threat,” Kennex mused unconcerned.

Thea was silent staring off into space biting her thumbnail, the room around her was busy bustling with people but the small bubble around her was silent. A silence that was almost deafening. Someone brought her out of her thoughts by gently placing a hand on her arm. Looking up she saw Dorian looking down at her with slight concern in his eyes. “I’m okay, I’m just-” she trailed off and pulled the tablet from Rudy’s hands. She scrolled through the written transcript of the voicemail. “He said that he had to move districts ahead of schedule,” she said and tapped at the screen in her hands. With a flick of her wrist, she sent the pictures and profiles of each victim to the big screen. Thea looked at Kennex, “What do you see?” she asked expectantly. John looked at the crime scene photos, eyes darting back and forth. “Married couples,” he frowned, and then his eyes widened a fraction. “They’re successful, a bit snobbish, “ he said touching the screen bringing up their social media accounts. “Arrogant is the word you’re looking for.” Thea pointed out. Dorian stepped forward-looking at the giant screen in front of them, “Do you have a map of the body drops?” he asked and Thea wordlessly brought up the map she and Lewis had made. The map of the district appeared and each crime scene location popped up one by one. They formed a large circle that covered several miles, “That’s how we narrowed it down to the pier,” she said with a sigh. Thea quickly expanded the map so it showed delta and the new crime scene. “He’s found a new den,” she scowled, running a hand through her hair so the brown waves were pushed back. Kennex appeared on her other side looking at the map intently, Thea mentally tried to connect the dots.

“Rudy do you know when the voice message was left?” Redding asked, turning toward the man. Rudy looked like a deer caught in some headlights for a minute before consulting his phone. “Uh, six this morning,” he said looking up. Thea sighed expecting the answer, “He was watching us,” she muttered irritated. “Dorian, did anyone in the crowd today look odd to you?” Kennex asked leaning against what Thea assumed was his desk. Dorian stared into space for a moment and tilted his head to the side, “I have an adult gender unknown with a hood covering their face. Their body language is relaxed and he’s staring in detective Redding’s direction.” he said, turning his full attention back to Kennex and Redding. John seemed stone-faced as he eyed the big screen in front of the room, while Thea closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I have an idea but neither of you will like it,” she said biting her lip. Dorian and John looked at each other almost nervously.

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“You’re right, I hate this plan,” John deadpanned over the secure comm. Thea chuckled and walked the dark street holding a warm cardboard cup of coffee to keep the cold away. Snow slowly trickled down from the blackened sky, “He’s going to go after one of us, trackers and teams are in place. It’ll be fine. I hope,” she said discreetly. Kennex snorted over the line, “when this is done you and I are going to have a talk about what’s fine,” he said a slight smile in his voice. “I look forward to it,” Thea chuckled and took a sip of her hot drink. “You two are just adorable, I think SWAT has an ongoing bet on when you go on your first date,” Dorian teased over the line. Kennex cursed the DRN out, while Thea blushed and cleared her throat. John abruptly cut out, his harsh insults stopping. “Aw come on John, I’m just teasing,” Dorian said with a light chuckle, the laughs of the SWAT team could also be heard. Thea smirked but it melted away when the man didn’t answer, “John?” Thea questioned voice even. No reply. “Is there a visual on Kennex?” she asked, stopping at the mouth of an alley. There was a long pause, “No visual,”

“Fuck!” Thea shouted, dropping her coffee she started to run toward Kennex’s last known position. Thea stopped in the middle of the abandoned street panting; Dorian ran up to her with SWAT on his ass. “How in the hell did someone get past us?” he asked looking up and down the street. “He’s a hacker and a good one. We were compromised,” Thea growled angrily. Mostly at herself. A shrill ringing broke the tense silence. Gritting her teeth Thea pulled out her phone, “Hello?” ground out. A dark chuckle over the line made her freeze. She looked up at Dorian with wide eyes; his face immediately lit up hoping to trace the call. “Nice try detective but you can’t trace me, tell the DRN better luck next time,” the disguised voice hissed. Dorian shook his head at Thea and she scowled, “Where is he?” she growled out.

“Oh, I assure detective Kennex is quite safe, waiting for you in fact. Come alone and you both will be free,” the voice purred over the line. Thea met Dorian’s eyes; he set his jaw and shook his head. “No tracker, no android,” they whispered, making Dorian shake his head again. “Fine,” she said and the android in front of her huffed, tossing up his hands. “Good detective, now walk.” the killer growled. Thea looked at Dorian apologetically and stalked down the street phone attached to her ear. “What do I call you anyway, I can’t just keep saying ‘the guy’ in my head,” she inquired, trying to keep the conversation going. The voice snorted “Call me Hatty,” the voice-Hatty said in amusement. Thea paused midstep, “So you’re a woman,” she muttered. Hatty laughed openly and dropped the voice changer. “Very good detective! I almost lost hope in your abilities! Turn right at the corner and keep going until the end,” she instructed proudly. Thea did as she was told, “Hatty short for Harriet?” she asked matter of factly. Hatty hummed undoubtedly smirking “Can I asked why you killed them?” she asked bitterly, “they deserved it, detective. They had no souls, they only thought of themselves and cheated to get what they wanted. They didn’t work hard as I did! But you’d never understand, all you have to do is bat your pretty eyes to get what you want! I’m the main character now!” Harriet shrieked, losing her cool. A male voice shouted something in the background and then a resounding crack echoed over the line, “Hatty, what did you do! You said you wouldn’t hurt him!” Thea hissed angrily into her phone. The woman huffed a sigh, “Relax, he’s fine. Just a little reminder on who’s in charge,’ she said mildly annoyed. Thea gripped her phone tighter and came to a stop at a series of abandoned buildings close to the wall, “straight ahead and down the stairs detective, see you soon.” Hatty chuckled and Thea heard nothing but the dial tone.

Taking a deep breath Thea opened the front door of the old apartment building. Dust covered every surface making the woman wrinkle her nose; using her phone as a flashlight Thea eased forward toward the labeled basement stairs. Nudging the door open with her foot Thea looked down into the darkness, “Yeah, this isn’t creepy at all,” she whispered. After hitting the hard cement at the bottom Thea looked down each long hall on either side of her. One was pitch black, while the other had a light at the end, “I’ll take the less creepy hall for two hundred Alex,” she whispered to the dust mites. Thea moved quickly and quietly until she came to a wide-open room, which was filled with books and a desk housing monitors, and a jammer. “There go the trackers,” she grumbled under her breath. On the monitors were dozens of pictures of her; at home, at work, at her favorite coffee shop. On the desk sat an old copy of “Alice’s adventures: Through the Looking Glass” she tapped the book with her knuckle curiously before turning to the rest of the room. That’s when she saw him, “John!” she ran over and knelt down by the bloody unconscious man. Placing two fingers on his neck Thea sighed in relief, shoulders slumping relaxing ever so slightly. “Welcome to your repentance detective,” a feminine voice hissed, and then there was nothing.

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Thea groaned when someone shook her shoulder, “Hey Redding. Thea wake up.” someone whispered to her gently. Her eyes fluttered open only to meet soft green ones staring right back at her, “Hey there,” she whispered slowly lifting her head from Kennex’s lap. “You okay?” he asked and Thea waved her hand with a grimace, “I’m just peachy,” she slurred squinting at the brightness of the room. “Concussions are fun,” she muttered, swallowing hard. They both got to their feet and gazed around the room. Mirrors, all they could see was themselves reflecting endlessly. The room dimmed, and the harsh light from before was gone. The sound of a vacuum made them freeze and it became hard to breathe; Thea looked over at John who had clamped his mouth shut to save his air. ‘This is how she does it then,’ she thought dryly holding her breath as well. The floor glowed in a red hue revealing words on the floor. The world tilted and began to grow grey around the edges. Thea couldn’t hold it anymore and choked falling to her knees; Kennex was beside her hoping to do something. Thea pointed at the inscription on the floor but he didn’t seem to understand it. She fell to her side gasping for air that wouldn’t come, she stared at the words mindlessly. She couldn’t process what it said, Thea felt a hand cup her cheek. Kennex turned her head so she was looking up at him; he was fading fast. He brushed the hair out of her face and took one last breath; and then he slowly gave it to her. Their lips connected and air filled her lungs. Thea gasped and snapped her mouth shut to hold the air in. She watched as Kennex fell to the floor twitching, eyes wide.

Thea rolled over eyeing the quote again, ‘ She who saves a single soul, saves the universe.’ it read. She pushed to her feet and staggered over to the mirrored wall; she put her hands on the cold, smooth surface hoping to find something; anything. Her vision was starting to blacken again, she was running out of time. Placing her forehead against the mirror Thea pushed her mind. She thought back, ‘A heart. A heart meaning what? Hatty. An angry little girl...who loves Alice in Wonderland.’ she thought, “Rabbit holes are deep.”

Thea pounded a fist on the mirror in front of her in frustration, everything was fading. ‘Alice in Wonderland what did it teach you? Six impossible things, high caterpillars, off with their heads...and nothing is what it seems.’ she spun around to take in the room again. Her infinite reflection seemed to mock her, ‘not as it seems,’ she chanted to herself as she staggered to the center of the room where John lay unconscious. Narrowing her eyes Thea looked at the floor, it was so smooth and inviting. She let her knees buckle so her eye was level with the ground below her. ‘No, not the ground. Tinted glass.’ she thought dimly. The exit was below them; down the rabbit hole. Thea with the last of her strength picked up her foot and slammed it down on the glass below her. It cracked. She opened her mouth in a silent gasp and brought her foot down again. The crack grew in size so it spiderwebbed beneath her and John. The strength left her as quickly as it came, she slumped to the side over John’s torso eyes giving in to the spreading darkness.

As Thea closed her eyes she failed to notice the glass cracking and spiderwebbing to each corner of the room, or better yet the modified shipping container that they were housed in. The sound of shattering glass filled the empty space; a large empty parking garage and the two detectives fell six feet to the ground. Twenty long seconds passed before Thea took a gasping breath. She rolled to her side and coughed harshly, she yelped and winced at the glass biting into her. “K-Kennex.” she gasped out seeing his prone form. He wasn’t moving his chest was rising and falling as it should; Thea pulled herself to her knees and crawled painfully towards him. Thea bent over John and listened for a heartbeat when she found none she laced her hands together and began chest compressions. Counting thirty compressions Thea pinched the man’s nose and tilted his head back, she puffed two breaths into him. Nothing. She counted thirty more and did two more breaths. Nothing. Thirty more compressions and the tear were falling down her cheeks. Taking another big breath Thea breathed two more into him. Kennex gasped into her mouth making Thea quickly straighten. A hysterical laugh bubbled past her lips and she fell painfully backward onto the glass-covered floor. “You’re okay, you were only dead for a minute or two,” she said reaching an arm over to pat his chest lightly.“That’s comforting,” he wheezed taking her hand and holding it.

“I’m never reading The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland again,” Thea muttered as she gingerly got to her feet. She winced when she saw that they were covered in little shards of tinted glass. She braced herself and pulled John to his feet, “Oh I’m going to feel this tomorrow,” he gasped clutching onto his newly broken ribs. “Sorry about that,” Thea said guiltily and John waved it off. “You saved my ass, and all you should be concerned about is what type of drink you’re gonna have when I buy it for you,” he said casually as they wandered down a pitch-black hall. “Are you asking me out Kennex?” Thea asked teasingly and John huffed trying to hold in a laugh. “It’s possible Ms, Redding. It depends, is that a yes?” he asked tilting his head down towards her. Thea smiled softly, “I’ll give you an answer when we catch the killer detective Kennex,” she said coyly. John sighed and nodded and then groaned when they reached the basement stairs.

It took them ten minutes to reach the street and another five to get far enough away from the jammer to make a call. Thea turned on her phone and was greeted with a functional but heavily cracked screen, she looked over at John who was leaning heavily against the brick wall of an old storefront. Thea tapped at her phone and frowned, “The lights are on but no one's home,” she said holding up the useless device. Kennex groaned tossing his own phone aside, “If we keep walking I’m sure we’ll find Dorian. He probably has everyone looking for us,” he said shoving off the wall. Thea nodded and took some of Johns’s weight as they walked. As soon as they had a view of the main road they were engulfed by light and swarmed by people. Cops and EMS alike. Dorian darted forward and pulled both detectives in for a hug, “Ah come on Dorian, enough!” Kennex whined. The android laughed and scanned each of you, “Hospital, now.” he ordered waving a few EMTs over with their stretcher. “What about-” Thea asked but Dorian cut her off, “We found Harriet Chase running from the area, she had John’s badge and an old book. She was being interrogated for your location but she wouldn’t speak a word except for Alice in Wonderland quotes,” he said gently pushing Thea onto a waiting stretcher. The EMTs strapped her in careful of the glass embedded in her skin, she looked over at John who was already watching her. Thea raised an eyebrow making Kennex grin, “How about that drink, detective?” he asked as he was being lifted into an ambulance. Thea grinned back, “You’re on Kennex, I’ll even kick your ass in pool!” she called out before the doors slammed shut.

Thea chuckled as she was placed inside her respective ambulance and was shocked to see a stoic MX sitting there back ramrod straight. “Max?” she questioned and the android looked down at her, lip twitching. His version of a smile, “Hello detective,” he greeted before falling silent. Shaking her head Thea smiled, “I have a date,” she said in a whisper. The MX looked at her emotionless to others but to her, the twitches in his face said differently, it said ‘about damn time,’

If this is well-liked I'm willing do another Chapter where Hatty and Thea meet face to face and the date!

Tags:

@zecklein

@thottiewithashotgun

@writerdee1701

@lauraaan182

#john kennex #john kennexXOC #almost human #Dorian #Hailey the queen of typos

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xxrainstormxx · 4 years

Text

Save it Lover Boy. Spencer Reid x Reader (Save it for the Doctor Part 2)

(A/N: In this story it’s been a few months. I’m not great at focusing on the Romance part but there is a little more than there was last time. I really hope you guys enjoy!) Word count: 2,405 Part 1 (edit: my pleas for requests for stories are not reaching people so I will beg here. If you want a oneshot I’ll write it. Prompt or no prompt.)

After the incident with my sister, my life was flipped around for the better. I began to date Spencer, the team being unaware. I finished college and thanks to a few strings JJ and Aaron had pulled I was now the BAU's personal assistant. Granted, it was a unpaid internship so it was not very glamorous but it got me the experience I need, especially if I want to be apart of this specific team. I was the one who got coffee, filled out unrelated paper work, helped JJ set up stations and boards. I still hadn't quite gotten used to that sinking feeling when the phone rings. Or when JJ approaches your desk, or the photos. You never get used to not sleeping in your own bed, the hotels, no moments of privacy, the monsters, families loosing each other. Or the pictures, it's disgusting. I especially never got used to how numb all my friends were numb to it all at the end of the day. Especially Spence, he'd been through utter hell and yet he was still sweet and managed to smile. It worried me sometimes, how relaxed they could be at the end of the day.

So, JJ and I were setting up everything on the board. I frowned at the woman on the board. Only one, we caught it just in time for it to become a murder. It made me sick to think there was a possibility we could save the 25 year old, but instead we were called in after it became a bigger problem which made me feel sick. How easily someone gets away with something until they commit the actual murder. This woman was a very lively person. She clearly didn't deserve what she had gotten. "Samantha Burkly" JJ said softly "Poor woman." She said and left to talk to the others leaving me sitting in the conference room just tapping away at the laptop provided. I was also little Miss Penelope Garcia's assistant so I was stuck digitizing files she didn't want to, and it fucking sucked dirty dick. Yeah, let that sink in. Anyway I felt a few pairs of eyes on me only to look up and see the team staring at me through the cursed window of the room. "What?" I rose a brow causing a few to look away Spencer's eyes lingering, he was waiting for something. I don't think either of us knew what so I blew him a kiss and a subtle wink making him look away turning pink. That same shade of pink when he found me innocent and began what I would come to know as a very normal rant. His epiphanies, or what I called "braingasms" (which he absolutely despised), would strike a chord 99% of the time, and the other 1% could be brushed off as "Reid being Reid" which kinda upset me. He was a damn genius and yet no one seemed to want to listen. Sure I hadn't been around as long a the others but I would sit and listen to Spence talk for hours when on dates, I would nod, as questions and get very thoughtful and honest answers. Sure they weren't always what someone would want to hear, but did anyone ever tell you it would be good news. Reid and I could also have a very thoughtful debate. Now was that normal for couples, no, probably not. But at least he had facts to back up his opinion, making it a real debate and not just some senseless argument that fell into pointless attacks on the other person leading to a fight and rough makeup sex. Which I wouldn't mind but it'd only been a few months, and didn't wanna make an uncomfortable situation we could easily talk through anyway. What was I doing? Right, paperwork.

As I ended my very long side rant and staring into space while also staring directly at Spencer's ass, I turned to my computer. "You shouldn't stare at people baby cakes." I heard causing me to jump out of my damn seat. "I was staring into space. Jesus Derek you scared the shit out of me!" I cursed glancing to the man with his nose in a file I was digitizing, "Sorry hun. But we need a fresh pair of eyes" he said gesturing to a new less dusty file on the table in front of my computer. I recognized the face on the front as the same woman on the board. Her name written on the front clear as day. I knew what was inside and I was proud to have not seen it but now it disturbed me that my eyes were being referred to as "Fresh" in that way. It made me feel dirty and violated in a whole new way. "Why? You guys know this case inside and out. I'm just the intern." I said and snatched the older file out of his hand. I knew this poor case inside and out by now. Decapitation and sexual assault of the esophagus. Real nasty shit ya know? The woman was 22 and then a man was found two weeks later with the same thing. But the case went cold 7 years ago. It was sad. The woman's mother had killed herself and the man's father disowned his son assuming he was gay because a man did that to the literally gaping hole in his neck. It was one of the bigger case files full of dead ends. I had become intimately aware of all the details of the case, even the signature, something overlooked by the police because they thought decapitation and violation of the hole in the neck was it, and while rare that wasn't the case. It was a soft lipstick mark left on the victims hands next to the stamp of the club they went too. It was pink so very easily missed. "Because baby, you're gonna need to get used to this if you ever wanna be promoted. You can't react like you did back in January and vomit on the floor." Derek chided me softly "Fine, But you have to stop calling me baby, we aren't together. Also stop touching the files they're in alphabetical order and you're fuckin it up" I hissed smacking his hand away from another file at the bottom of the stack. "pissin me off Agent Moron" I wailed as he laughed at the new insult. I could literally feel Spencer's jelousy from the next room. It was honestly kind of cute but I could not be thinking of my boy's sweet face at the moment, I was about to see what really happened to poor Samantha Burkly. I took the new file off the table and opened it to the pictures and I was hit with a familiarity. "Derek this isn't funny. I was just looking at this file" I declared nonchalantly as I lobbed it back onto the table going back to the laptop "What the hell are you talking about?" He asked "that's a brand new file" He said "A red headed woman decapitated with semen in her esophagus and a pink lipstick mark on her hand next to it? That Hellen Barsly not the Burkly girl" I stated "You leave out Jason Green to make it more realistic?" I muttered never once looking up "Pin lipstick mark?" he questioned grabbing the file "I'll be damned there it is. You barely looked at it. That woman is Samatha Burkly" he blinked "Har har Derek" I hissed snatching the file and opened the file as Spencer walked in to listen. I barely acknowledged him because I was pissed at this point.

"I know the Banshee Hunter of West Point case better than my own fucking computer history" I said and held it up to the picture before being shocked as I saw that the decapitated woman was in fact Samantha. Right next to her living photo. "The what?" Reid asked, clearly never having heard of it. "Oh my god. OH MY GOD" I yelled and ran back to my seat pulling out all the files related to The BHWP case, I knew full well that this case was bigger than it seems. "Penelope has me on digital file duty and these cases caught my attention for some reason. The case went cold 7 years ago." I mumbled pulling up all the files that were back at the office in my desk as I'd finished them. I had a whole folder for all the connected cases, even ones where the M.O and victimolgy had changed. "The first murder dated back to 1970. A woman by the name of Jenny Boil had disappeared, she was 24 years old. Found decapitated in the middle of the highway her esophagus had been sexually assaulted. She had red hair with a soft pink kiss mark on her hand and her mouth had been stretched open like a banshee. And because her hair was red along with numerous victims leading up to the sudden coldness of the case. There are cases where the victimology changed completely or the M.O so the police never connected them or assumed they were copy cats" I rambled as I quickly set up a time line that ended with Samantha "and now hes back with the latest victim" I hit enter and the time line stretched across the screen victims all over the screen. "the pink lip stick marks. Originally they were thought to be remorse but I think this guy has some kind of fucked up chivalrous attempt" I squawked and pushed my chair to the whiteboard standing on it feeling eyes on me. I didn't know or care how many. I heard frantic flipping and click me. "This guy has over 100 known victims only 12 of them not red heads. Only 11% of his victims don't fit the victims and only 3 don't fit the M.O of the others making that 2%!" I yelled as if I was Spencer. I could feel my face turning red with adrenaline. "Now all of these cases 100 percent all have a kiss mark on the hand, same brand and color of lipstick, A frosted pink lipstick, 67 Peach Pink from the brand Nestacia" I wrote that down "And all these cases I noted have three different overlapping suspects" I said pushing Spencer out of the way of my computer and printed up their pictured and grabbed them hanging them up "Now!" I continued slapping the board "This man right here is no Biological male! His name is Tyler Grant a 59 Year old trans man! He couldn't have done it but that doesn't mean he couldn't have helped" I said noticing the whole team in the room. No one tried to interrupt because I assumed I looked batshit insane.

I was right cause I caught my refection and my hair was everywhere now, I was sweating, and my pupils were shaking. I didn't care I was on a roll. "There is no plausible way the semen belongs to him!" I said "These also can't be a copy cat killer-" I began before being unceremoniously interrupted again "But how do you-" he began before i loudly shushed Spencer. "Save it lover boy! I'm getting to that! Lemme talk your turn in over" I said making him smile just a little "As i was saying, it can't be a copy cat killer because there was also another unnoticed factor! The strange shape of the lips! No one draws on their lips this way but the pallet is larger on one side than the other. The killer has a cleft pallet, which cannot be a coincidence!" I said "and as you can see! This man right here! Leston Nikolia has a cleft pallet. But because they never had proof he'd done it due to the overlooked lipstick marks he walked free!" I yelled circling him "And we don't talk about Henry for the simple fact that he is Impotent and was in jail during the last 7 murders before Samantha and he's dead now!" I finished and took a large inhale and sat down "the lip stick is enough reasonable suspicion to bring him in for questioning. He's a coward. He cannot face people head on and most likely has high anxiety and is easily paranoid it wouldn't be hard to get a correct confession." I panted "Reid! Is this what it feels like when you solve a fucking problem? I feel like my brain just had 7 orgasms" I wished sitting back "It was always circumstantial but now that there a new victim sitting in front of me I'm sure it was him" I wished taking more deep breaths "I'm going to call Garcia and see if I can get a fact check on everything." Aaron began making my heart sink, please please don't discredit everything I just gave you. "JJ can you get us a location? Reid get started on a warrant the minute JJ gets it, Derek get a game plan together, Prentiss and I will do more investing on this Nikolia guy, and (Y/N)." he finished turning to me. "Keep going over every file you have and see if you can connect anymore of these murders. Good work" He said and the team began to work. "Holy shit" I gasped and Spencer smiled at me "You might have just solved this case." He said kissing my forehead "and I'm so damn proud" he whispered. I was still riding my knowledge high, the adrenaline still pumping so not caring that we were at work, I kissed Spencer straight on the lips. He froze because we were still in a work setting but slowly kissed back. His lips were soft, we hadn't had a proper first kiss, just forehead kisses, cheek pecks, and occasional pecks on the lips if Spencer was feeling sausey. I just giggled pulling back "That was... so much at once. How does your brain do that all the time?" I asked "Mine's been doing it a lot longer. See you after work okay?" he whispered and went to do his job "Right. Work" I whispered and sighed turning to my laptop cracking my knuckles doing real work for the first time in my internship. Who knows, maybe me and Penelope could do this kind of thing together!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds oneshot

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chestnut-b · 4 years

Text

Clueless (Art + Fic)

Iruka’s sense of self-awareness has never been his strongest suit.

“Good afternoon Iruka-sensei.” he greeted. Kakashi turned to the back of the room. “A busy day in the mission room I see.” The silence was deafening. “There are some reconstruction projects near the Forest of Death that could use some extra manpower. Anyone keen?”.

In all his years in the mission room, Iruka had never seen a room clear out that fast.

He’d been receiving his second report of the day when he felt the sudden release of tension, but Iruka was nothing if not professional. Without even skipping a beat, he pulled his hitae-ate to his neck, tucked the curtain of hair behind his ear and out of his face. Iruka issued a quick apology to the Jounin before him and smiled amicably as he put away a freshly approved report. But the shinobi, whom Iruka had known to lack a chatty disposition, had not moved immediately as he usually did, and instead opted to stare at Iruka in a way that made him feel just a bit self-conscious.

He must have looked more of a mess than he thought.

“Is there something else I can help you with, Jounin-san?”

Iruka only received a mumbled thanks in response before the ninja quickly removed himself from the room. Quickly, he dug into his new vest pocket and felt absolutely nothing. He groaned inwardly, realising that in equipping his newly issued vest, he’d neglected to include his supply of spare hair ties.

“I’m getting a bit too complacent now that the war’s over.” he chided himself. It was too late to excuse himself to look for a spare; Iruka could only sigh as he ran a hand through his now loose, tousled hair, attempting to make himself look, at the very least, presentable for the day’s duties. So lost in his own thoughts he was, that he failed to notice the sudden dip in chatter that usually filled the room.

The back of the mission room had always been a bit of a watering hole for the returning shinobi of the village, but as the hour passed Iruka was starting to wonder if he’d missed a memo somewhere. Between reports he took the chance to scan the room. Too many people whom he knew had no business here, some weren’t even on active duty at the moment. Heads kept peeking through the entrance and disappearing just as quickly. As he read the latest report before him, he resisted the urge to grip the knot of tension that had been building up at the back of his neck. But of course, by the time he could look up any shinobi worth their salt wouldn’t be caught dead looking in his direction.

Two hours in, and Iruka was starting to get annoyed. The line stretching in front of him was not only growing, but seemed to move at a snail’s pace. He’d had to engage in more than the usual small talk, and for some inexplicable reason, received three invitations to drinking parties and just as many invitations to a meal or tea.

While it was nice to see that Konoha’s peaceful days were bringing good business to the village eateries, the proposal for a new Academy roadmap he was to present to the Rokudaime and elder council in the coming week wasn’t going to finish itself. He’d had to politely decline each invitation, prompting a chuckle and snicker from Kotetsu and Izumo, who were manning the table beside him. The pair looked disturbingly amused by it all.

Speaking of the Rokudaime - he glanced at the clock across the room. It was about the usual time he’d spot the Hokage wander past the mission room door on what Iruka guessed, was his afternoon break. If Iruka knew anything from having assisted Tsunade-sama in her bureaucratic duties before, it was that Kakashi must have been drowning in more paperwork than the former jounin sensei had ever seen in his life.

The teacher smiled to himself; it didn’t feel like that long ago since he’d last received reports from Kakashi right across this very table. While the man wasn’t the most meticulous shinobi in that regard, Cell 7’s reports always made for an entertaining read (when they weren’t missions gone horribly awry, anyway), and Iruka found himself looking forward to receiving them on their return. Their argument during the Chuunin exams naturally caused some awkwardness between them, but when Naruto had left to train with Jiraiya, it was to Iruka’s pleasant surprise when of his own accord, Kakashi offered to buy drinks on the rare occasions Naruto wrote back home. Iruka hadn’t known what to expect, but their conversations had flowed as easy as the sake on those nights.

A sound of shuffling papers made Iruka pause. Hmm. The heat of the late afternoon sun on his back was making him feel unusually nostalgic today.

There was one Autumn, he remembered, when the first saury had come into season; Iruka passed a home-made bento to the older shinobi, along with an omamori containing soldier pills from their village shrine. Kakashi was due for a long mission that would see him away for a few months, and Iruka had wanted to thank him for all he’d done. Naruto’s absence had been unexpectedly hard on him, and Kakashi’s efforts, he’d realised, had kept the worst of the loneliness at bay. He’d regretted not bringing something for the rest of his accompanying team though, because Gai-sensei, upon witnessing this exchange, burst into a flood of tears in front of the village gates.

Really, he never knew Kakashi could look so pleased. Naruto was right, his sensei really did have a soft spot for saury.

Dragging his mind back to the present, Iruka added another report to the stack. The kunoichi before him was looking strangely flushed, but he just couldn’t muster the energy to suggest a cautionary visit to the infirmary. When she’d finally scuttled away, Iruka’s musings continued. Could a mere teacher and desk worker be friends with a Hokage? He wasn’t quite sure. But he did miss the conversations they’d shared over the letters in those years. Pein’s attack and the war had brought the meetings to an unfortunate end.

The reality of their situation; the new shinobi age, and Kakashi’s appointment as Hokage meant they couldn’t just pick up where they left off, Iruka thought. It’d been only two months since everyone had returned from the front lines. Many people were still mourning, but many were trying their best to move on with their lives.

Perhaps that why he’d received so many invitations. Iruka felt a twinge of guilt at the possibility of this, but remained firm in his decision. It would simply have to be another time.

As Hokage, Kakashi made few appearances in this room now, but on the days Iruka spotted him slouching past, the former jounin would send a surprisingly enthusiastic wave in his direction. Though the teacher never felt quite comfortable casually waving to the leader of their village in the middle of work (and a room full of shinobi), he never failed to send a genuine smile of acknowledgement back. An interaction that lasted mere seconds, but always gave Iruka the boost he needed to finish his shift.

Something he could really, really use right about now. That, along with a cup of tea. His throat was uncomfortably dry from all the extra talking he had to do today. The line at least, was making some progress.

Mere minutes later, as if summoned by an unsaid wish, a silver headed figure ambled by the door. Having noticed him out of the corner of his eye, Iruka looked up, ready to return a smile he was sure was waiting for him. However, there was none to be seen (though with the mask on, he couldn’t be completely sure). Instead, Iruka could only blink as he made eye contact with the man, who had stopped dead in his tracks at the door, looking at him with a mixture of surprise and weirdly enough, a tinge of......panic?

What?

He wasn’t sure if it was a teleportation jutsu or just sheer speed, but in the next moment, the person standing in front of him wasn’t a stammering chuunin, but one Rokudaime.

In all his years in the mission room, Iruka had never seen a room clear out that fast. His line mysteriously looked shorter too.

Looking rather pleased, Kakashi turned back to face him.

“Working on a new image?” The Hokage beamed at him, gesturing to his own head of silver. Two grey eyes, Iruka noticed, the same colour as his new vest. It suited him well. Two eyes though, he’d have to get used to that. Kakashi emoted so well with one, that two seemed a bit overwhelming at this point. Iruka felt his face grow warm. To be seen in such a disheveled state by his leader. How embarrassing.

“Please forgive my attire, it was certainly not my intention.” Iruka apologised, with a slight bow of his head. Kakashi merely shook his in response.

“No need, sensei. If anything, I should be the one apologising for interrupting your work, but it wouldn’t do to have everyone so distracted.”

Kakashi turned to Kotetsu and Izumo, who’d been enjoying their front-row seats to this scene a bit too much.

“Kotetsu-kun, could you kindly take over Iruka-sensei’s duties for the rest of his shift?”

“As you command.”

“Do you need something from me, Hokage-sama?” Iruka was getting more confused by the minute. This wasn’t how he’d imagined their first proper conversation in months going. Kakashi merely nodded. Kotetsu took no pause and began shooing him away from his seat.

“Regarding the Academy proposals next week. I’d like to hear your thoughts about it so far. If you have the time to spare, of course.”

Well, he’d just had the rest of his shift taken over, it wasn’t as if Iruka had much of an excuse. Not that he minded at all. There was an unsettling energy in the room right now, and Iruka was more than happy to end what was an odd stint, by any means. Gathering his things, he said his goodbyes to his comrades, and made his way to the exit, where Kakashi was waiting for him. Iruka startled a bit when he felt a pat on his shoulder, but exited with a small smile on this face anyway. Even if they were just talking about work, he found himself looking forward to it more than he realised.

As soon as they’d left, the mission room seemed to take a collective breath, and the world returned to its natural state.

Izumo turned to Kotetsu, who was stamping the report Iruka had left unfinished.

“Think Iruka will ever get a clue?”

Kotetsu grinned and shook his head.

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Author’s notes:

Thanks for reading! I’ve been thinking a lot about Iruka these days and felt the need to just write and draw something! It’s been so long too.

I think Iruka has always been fairly sharp to everything around him, but himself. A little awkward and self deprecating, but that’s what we love about him!

I’d love to know how you think about it. It was really fun to draw and write after years of just lurking. :D

#kakairu #iruka #kakashi #iruka umino #umino iruka #hatake kakashi #naruto

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years

Text

The Best Things ~ J.V. (part 8)

A/n: This part is super upsetting. Character death, graphic violence, I dare even say gore. Homophia, which I should have been warning a while back I am so sorry for that. Things are gonna get HEAVY- I am so sorry lol.

Word Count: 3800+

Playlist

Masterlist

"Nah, you're not crazy," Harleen giggled.

"Says you," Y/n teased, rolling his eyes. "You may have a doctorate, but you're also bias."

Her smile widened. "Okay that's fair." Y/n sighed, sitting back in his chair. He looked down at his hands, smile small as he got lost in thought. "What's on your mind?"

"Harleen is kind of a mouthful," Y/n told her. "Do you like the name?"

She tilted her head, as if considering. "I never did. When I was younger I had a friend who called me Lee, but with things happening-" Y/n's face scrunched up and Harleen snorted. "Exactly. Name's already taken- and it would be even weirder if I went by Dr. Lee, so I scratched it."

Y/n nodded. Then he sat forward, his elbows resting on the table. "So you've never had any other nicknames?" She shook her head and then shrugged when Y/n donned a surprise expression. "Well I have to give you one then. That's what friends do, right?" She grinned at Y/n's words and he watched the room get a little brighter. She was magic like that- as if she was made of sunshine. Her happiness was contagious, and she made the world a little better. She was accepting and also calm, making him feel safe as well as loved. She was his best friend and he was hers and they gave each other something they couldn't get with anyone else: unhindered fun with absolutely no expectations. It was an odd place to find real friendship in, but here they were anyway. "What about... Leena?" She immediately shook her head and he chuckled. "Uh... I mean, there's always Harley."

She considered that. "You know what, I like it." She crossed her arms. "Harley Quinzel." She nodded. "I'll allow it."

Y/n rolled his eyes. She was only like four years older than him, but had far too quickly fallen into a rhythm of acting like an adult talking to a child every once in a while, as a joke. Whether she was flaunting the years she had over him, or the schooling, Y/n wasn’t sure, but he refused to acknowledge it and it had become an unspoken inside joke between them. "What about you? I have to give you one now."

Y/n shrugged. "I don't like nicknames."

Harley tilted her head, the bottom of her blonde ponytail brushing her shoulder. "Why not? You like giving them."

"Well, yeah..." He bit his lip. "It's just, every bad guy has a code name, you know? Oswald Cobblepot goes by Penguin. Edward Nygma is going around as Riddler. Then there's Mr. Freeze. I just feel like if I take an alias, it'll be official you know? I'll be as crazy as the people I associate with and as evil as everyone says I am."

Harley hummed. "Okay, that's fair." She sighed, raising her hands to rest her chin in her palm. "Speaking of people you associate with. You and Jerome..."

Y/n's mood darkened. It had been a while now and Oswald was gone and Jerome still hadn't made an appearance. "I think he's mad at me." Harley tilted her head in confusion and Y/n shrugged. "I left with Alfred because Bruce needed me. Didn't give him a heads up, and then went missing for, like, months..." He shook his head. "Maybe he thinks I've gone back to my old life, or that I've left him behind. I just feel like he's avoiding me and one doesn't usually do that for no reason, so I figure-"

"What if he's just busy?" Harley proposed.

Y/n snorted. "With what? Reading a really good book series?"

Harley pursed her lips. "I guess you have a point."

"Why do you even care?" Y/n asked, raising his hands to knit his fingers behind his head.

Harley stared at him silently for a long time. She had the look on her face she always does when she'd trying to read Y/n's mind. When she's analyzing everything she learned in school and looking at the actions and words that he was currently giving as context, as well as past ones, and then somehow putting it all together to figure out the secrets sometimes even he didn't know. The same magic that made Arkham home also gave her the ability to read minds- Y/n had determined she was a proper superhero.

After she reached some kind of conclusion - she always nodded after she'd done the reading and then switched which leg was crossed over the other - a little smile teased her lips. She was trying to hide it. And failing. Y/n tried not to be curious. Usually when Harley didn't tell him something it was because he wasn't ready to hear it... but that smile. It was too late. He had to know. "What?"

Once he asked, the gate broke and she grinned. "You're in love with him."

Y/n snorted. "No. I'm not." The coy curl of Harley's lips added to her raised eyebrows to make Y/n doubt himself, even though he could feel his feelings and knew that it wasn't... he didn't... no way. "He's important to me," Y/n gave. "I care for him. But... love..." Y/n shook his head. "I don't know about that. There's been too much going on- I haven't had enough time with him."

She nodded, expression serious, as if this was a very important discovery. "I call Maid of Honor at the wedding though." They locked eyes as Y/n went to tell her off, but then a slow smile rose to her face as he realized she was joking. They both busted up into laughter.

"Whoever I marry, the position is yours." He winked at her and she flipped her hair, both of them giggling.

A timer went off. Harley stood, gathering her stuff and sighing. "That's my cue. Same time tomorrow?"Y/n nodded then stood.

He draped his arm around her shoulders. "You know, you make this place bearable. You're a real friend to me." He kissed her forehead. "What would I do without you, hm?"

She rested her head on his shoulder for a second before they began walking and it got too awkward to coordinate. "Probably the same thing I'd do without you. Be alone and miserable." She popped up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. He pretended to gag and she fell into a short fit of soft giggles. "You're an idiot."

"Ah and yet what I lack for a brain, I make up with a big-" He cut off and she groaned. "Heart," he enunciated. He smirked and she rolled her eyes. "I have quite a large heart, full of love for my favorite gal." He shook her slightly, making a point that said gal was her.

"Every lesbian deserves a best friend with as little brains and as big a heart as you," Harley joked.

"And every gay deserves a best friend with as much brain and just as much heart as you." He finally let her go as she moved to the door that would lead outside. This is where they parted- her, to home, as he was her last patient as per usual. Him, further into the Asylum where he would have dinner then return to his room to be alone and sleep. Goodbyes were the pair's least favorite part of the day. "Until we next meet, Madame," Y/n initiated, pulling away to bow deeply.

Harley grabbed her doctor's coat lightly, pulling it out as if it was a dress as she bowed back. "I shall count the seconds." They laughed one last time, waving before she turned and left. He watched her go until she disappeared. She turned back several times to wave yet again, until she couldn't see him either just by turning around.

The second she was out of sight, the world lost a little color. It was a little darker. His smile got smaller and Y/n's shoulders sagged. He shoved his hands in his pockets before turning back to the hallway that lead to his room, beginning the trek.

A hand on his shoulder stopped him. People rarely touched him. The only person that touched him like this was one that Y/n hated so much that his hands curled into fists in his pocket, his face suddenly cold and empty as he stared straight ahead, halfway through a step- his foot on the ground and extended, but not carrying him forward as it had been intended to. He took a deep breath through his nose. Unfortunately, in all the chaos and people getting booted from Arkham after beating on Y/n, the one person that meant the most hadn't been caught because everyone refused to rat him out.

The man who'd started it all.

"You and her..." The older guard mused, a nasty smirk on his ugly face. "I thought you were gay." He said it mockingly, like he'd caught a child who hadn't said they weren’t hungry sneaking food when everyone seemed to be asleep.

Y/n rolled his eyes, forcing his body to relax as he faced the man. The monster. "Not every girl in the world was born solely for men to shove a dick into them, Jameson." The older man glared and Y/n smiled, getting satisfaction. "As a matter of a fact, Harley and I are just friends."

"You're pretty affectionate for just friends," Jameson argued. Y/n still didn't know the man's first name. He didn't care enough too. He didn't want another name that tasted bitter in his mouth. He already had his fingers crossed he'd never meet a cute boy with the last name Jameson, because the name alone would ruin Y/n's chances before he'd even taken a shot. No reason to make it even harder for himself.

"We're comfortable around each other." He rolled his shoulder back once, slightly stiff from sitting so long. Jameson wouldn't attack, knowing that Y/n would report him instantly- especially in such an open space, with cameras and the chance of someone rounding the corner any second - but one could never be too safe, just in case. "She gets me like no one else does. But, as you so wonderfully pointed out, I'm GAY." Y/n enunciated the word, going the extra mile by taking a step closer to stress it even more. "Girls aren't my thing."

Jameson looked like he wanted to deck Y/n. The younger boy's lips curved into a mocking smile in response. Now the guard was the one who had to control himself. "You guys have a lot in common?"

Y/n shrugged, too caught up in his casual gloating that Jameson couldn't act out like he wanted to- like he used to be able to. "Enough. We talk a lot. She's cool." He relaxed thinking about Harley. "She doesn't think I'm crazy. It's nice." He cleared his throat, focusing back on the enemy in front of him... only to immediately be confused by the very odd expression on Jameson's face. "What?"

"Nothing," the man dismissed, moving to leave. "I've heard enough. You're both a waste." He shook his head as he left and Y/n glared at his back until he was gone. Then the boy turned back toward the cell and finally made his way.

Man, why did he have to be surrounded by such assholes? Why couldn't Harley be around all the time? Why couldn't he be free? They could get an apartment and talk all the time. Help each other get through life and protect each other from unwanted attention. Be themselves all the time. Make jokes and exchange irritated expressions when idiots like Jameson said stupid shit like he always tended to.

Tomorrow. He'd see her tomorrow. That wasn't too far away.

He could wait until then.

Y/n's knees gave out from under him and he fell, cracking them on the cement. He didn't even feel it. His attention was being completely held by the TV, which was turned onto the news. It was a small screen that had been installed in one of the Day Rooms recently. They were rarely ever allowed to watch the news, though. In places like Gotham, far too often the news held very upsetting content that set inmates off- either into panics, or into violent rages. Y/n had stood to turn it off when he'd realized what news was being shared. Someone had been murdered. Old news. This was Gotham. Then he'd heard the name.

"23-year-old Harleen Quinzel was found dead earlier today. Her body was badly beaten, with words carved into her stomach. It was the cuts on her wrist that were the cause of death, though it's been determined that none of this was self inflicted. We received a photo of the body recently. Beware: what you're about to see is not for the faint of heart."

Suddenly the screen was showing the broken body of Y/n's best friend. The sunshine girl with the bright smile and the contagious laugh. The girl who was going to be Y/n's Maid of Honor. Y/n's better half. She was limp and unmoving, her eyes wide and empty. Her skin was pale, nearly white, except for where dark, huge bruises and blood discolored it. Her hair had been cut off, the blonde locks left next to her head but clearly detached. Her shirt had been rolled up to letters on her stomach- carved as promised.

There was an L next to a G, in a circle and crossed through once. Underneath the symbol read: Sinner.

Someone was talking, but Y/n couldn't make out what they were saying. A hand in his shoulder and he looked over to see a concerned guard. A woman. She knelt next to Y/n, but she wasn't the one touching him. No, that hand belonged to Jameson, who had a sick expression on his face- a cross between smugness and victory, muted as if he was trying to hide it, badly masked by some version of concern that was so unconvincing that Y/n ripped his shoulder out of the older man's hand.

He was on his feet again and running. Out of the room and to his cell- despite all the people who kept asking him what was going on, and someone in the very back changing the channel as the news reporter announced, "If you have any information, please contact-" Y/n ignored the rules. He ignored the people yelling at him. He ignored the people trying to stop him. He just started running and he didn't stop until he was in his room, where he opened the door and closed it behind him. His heart was ramming against his chest and all he could hear was the rushing of his blood in his ears. He saw black spots and felt an emotion bubble up that he couldn't even begin to put name to. All he knew was that it was dark and twisting and it was very quickly consuming everything good.

Something in him broke. It snapped off. Something vital. Y/n was aching, but he didn't know what it was or where it had fallen to as he lost it. He just knew there was suddenly a gaping hole where something very important used to be, and he felt absolutely terrible with it gone.

On the upside, he could finally breathe. His chest loosened and his body relaxed and as the door opened behind him, he turned to see the person with complete calm.

"Jameson." The word was not a greeting, but more of an observation. No. It was an accusation. The older man smiled and Y/n's insides began to twist and boil- less like a tightening of anxiety and more like a snake, seconds from attacking. "Why?" He stepped forward. "She was innocent."

Jameson scoffed. "You think you two are subtle? You two act like you're together and then talk about how you're not- you just 'get' each other." Jameson shook his head, cracking his knuckles. "You're spreading your sickness, Y/n." The snake coiled tighter, hissing and spitting. Y/n felt his calmness very quickly drop, perfectly placed with rage. His body didn't move, he just suddenly had a bunch of energy and he was waiting for the perfect moment to use it. "You two aren't quiet either. Strutting around here acting so out of line, in front of me. Acting like you're not being evil." Jameson scoffed. "You're evil, Y/n. And if they wouldn't let me punish you here, I'd have to get more creative. Even if you don't see it, you're in love with her. What you think you are is unnatural, and I knew if you could see how you really feel-"

Y/n's hand was around the man's throat. Jameson tried to push the younger boy away or claw his hand off, but Y/n just rammed him into the wall behind him. Jameson's head cracked against the grey wall, his efforts suddenly becoming useless. "You think I'm dangerous as a disease? You're so desperate to cure me. You're about to find just how very dangerous I am, Jameson. All on my own, with just my two hands." And then he began to squeeze. Jameson writhed and fought and clawed but when he started to get strong, Y/n would smash his head again or ram his knee into the man's junk and the efforts died down once again.

It took longer than Y/n thought. Jameson started to change color, his eyes bulging and his lips moving desperately but nothing coming in or out. Just when the man seemed about ready to pass out, Y/n let him drop to the floor. He gasped, clawing to try and get away. Y/n smiled, toeing the door gently closed. Jameson squirmed away, features taken over completely with terror. Y/n felt amazing.

"You will never hurt another person, ever again." Y/n squatted down, taking the man's thin hair in his hands. "Me however?" Y/n giggled. "You've helped create a monster. Know that every person I kill in the future is on your hands. Every injury is your fault. I'm not a violent person, Jameson." He snorted. "Well, I wasn't. But it seems you fuckwads only answer to violence, so..." Y/n shrugged casually. Jameson shook his head, choking out pleads for his life. Y/n snapped the man's neck and he stopped begging. It was so easy... The silence was wonderful. Y/n felt a weight lift off of his shoulders. "I'm done sitting idly while assholes run Gotham." Y/n stood, not even bothering to do anything but leave the door wide open as he walked calmly away, grinning like an idiot.

Something had been broken and lost indeed. It was Y/n's self control. His moral compass that kept him grounded and toeing the line between good and bad. It was the thing that kept reminding him he was a Wayne. That he was a good person. That he had a family that depended on him, in some way or another. That he had Alfred and Bruce, who he did want to visit even if he also wanted a life outside of them. That he had Oswald, who most often found solace in Y/n's sanity and depended on his restraint to reel him in when people were trying to set him off; Oswald needed Y/n's sense to balance his emotions. And, overall, Y/n was driven by pure spite not to let those damn reporters be right. He would be good and successful and he would show all of them that he could be more than the black sheep of the Wayne family. The disappointment of Gotham. The failure, always in the shadow of the Golden Boy younger brother Bruce Wayne.

But those people who Y/n cared about so much had let people like Jameson walk around, unhindered and unchecked. They had let him get beat up for a very long time before he was nearly killed and their hand was forced. They had let evil people run around and control things while they locked up Y/n for being gay. For being attracted to a man even though he wasn't a woman. There were murderers running wild, with super powers and incredible genius, but the problem people were deciding to focus on was that Y/n was gay.

Well, he was done with the lot of them. He was going to get out and prove to all of them that he was more than a Wayne. More than a mistake. More than a shadow. More than evil or good. More than Bruce's older brother. More than the one dude who had feelings for Jerome Valeska. More than one more gay plague on the face of the planet.

They wanted a monster? They would get one. And Y/n wasn't going to stop until he was satisfied, even if it meant all of Gotham had to die.

"Knock knock."

The door opened and Y/n looked over, his face finally showing emotion as his surprise rose. "Jerome?"

The redhead smiled, striding toward Y/n as if he has a tasty treat to share. "My little lover boy." Jerome hooked his finger under Y/n's chin. Y/n yanked his face away. Jerome frowned. "Are you mad at me, pretty boy?" Y/n glared at him. "I'll take that as a yes." He leaned backward. "What have I done, My Darling?"

"You've been avoiding me. We haven't talked in, like, months Jerome. What the fuck?"

"A tad dramatic," Jerome hushed. "And not totally fault." Y/n opened his mouth to argue but Jerome gently grabbed Y/n's throat, pressing his fingers gently into the skin. Their faces were suddenly very close and despite himself, Y/n suddenly felt a thrill to finally feel their skin touch as cheek brushed cheek. "I've been busy planning our escape, if you hadn't noticed." Y/n's eyes drifted to see a nervous Jonathan Crane and Jervis Tetch. "Come with me, won't you? I think we've been apart long enough."

Y/n suddenly began to relax. He didn't manage to smile, but he did get excited. "Well... lead the way."

Jerome left an excited kiss on Y/n's cheek, letting his hand fall away from Y/n's throat in favor of shooting into the air in victory as he giggled, turning to his two partners. "And so we all escape! Come now, we don't have much time." Y/n stood as Jerome lead the way, all four of the men finding their way out of Arkham Asylum finally.

The fun was about to begin.

#jerome valeska #jerome velaska #valeska twins #gotham #joker #cameron monaghan #male reader #jerome valeska x reader #jerome valeska imagine #valeska twins x reader #valeska twins imagine #gotham x reader #gotham imagine #joker x reader #joker imagine #cameron monaghan x reader #cameron monaghan imagine #jerome x reader #jerome imagine

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really-sleep-deprived-nerd · 5 years

Text

The Gay Prince Dream (Roceit AU)

Okay so, this was based on a Dream I had.

TLDR: Roman is the prince sent to kill the shady wizard (Deceit) and they fall in love.

There was once a kingdom that was known for being a nice place full of kind and peaceful people.

Roman is the Prince, while Virgil and Patton are the royal advisors.

(Not relevant but Remus Annoyed The Wrong Witch and got cursed, so he is off in another kingdom looking for help to undo the curse. On his journey he somehow befriended Logan and now they travel together.)

Not too many months ago, a wizard made his house in one of the caves in the mountains behind the forest.

He was pretty close to the kingdom and, understanbly, people lost their goddamn minds because of this.

Rumors about him spread like wildfire

Some people said that he had sold his soul to the devil so he could become more powerful, some people said that the gods grew jealous of his power/beauty/some shit and cursed him to slowly become a hideous monster, some people said that he was dangerous and evil, that he had killed and tortured innocent people for fun.

Rumors said that only those that were truly desperate went seeking for his help, since they knew that it was probably a suicide anyways.

Those who went to see him never came back.

Most people were scared to even say his name, so they referred to him as The Snake.

The king, understandably, started to fear for the safety of his kingdom if this wizard one day decided to attack.

He decided to send his most trustworthy knight in a long term undercover mission to eliminate this possible threat.

The knight was supposed to try and “befriend” this vile creature and, once he learned about his weaknesses, he was supposed to kill him the moment he had a chance.

The king gladly ignored Virgil´s argument about how it maybe wasn't the best of ideas to send his most trustworthy knight on a dangerous solo mission when said knight was also the only heir to the throne and sent Roman on his merry way.

Roman, surprising everyone (Including himself), took the smart route and, before going blindly into a deathly quest, decided to research and study what they actually knew about this wizard.

Turns out? They didn't knew a whole lot .

There were only rumors or old stories that no one could prove.

Well, excepting one thing: The people.

You see, people had actually went to see him and disappeared, but they were, according to their families, just “whiny and mildly upset about some nonsense” and that they “would have surely gotten over it if they hadn't been so god damn stupid to go and see The Snake”.

And that catched Roman´s attention, because that “nonsense” their families were irritated about wasn't actually meaningless stuff. The complete opposite actually.

Maria, the young daughter of a poor family had gone missing after she refused to marry the old and crusty noble man that had asked for her hand in marriage.

Logan, the oldest son of a noble family had gone missing after stating that “Lady Delia is a beautiful and charming woman but that doesn't change the fact that I do not wish to engage in a romantic and or sexual relationship with her. Or with any woman, for that matter.”

And the list just went on and on and on!

Roman was confused.

And very much pissed at some of the people of his kingdom, but that's besides the point.

Still mainly confused, how come that no one knew exactly what this wizard was capable of doing? how come that people ran away to him and didn't come back? Like, sure, they had more than enough reasons to don't want to come back, but it's not like they packed their things before going to see The Snake, so what in the name of everything that is holy did the wizard do with them? Did he kill them? if so, why? people didn't kill people for no reason!

“It's what evil monsters do, Roman, monsters have no reason to kill humans, they just do” had argued Virgil, but that's just plain bullshit, even monsters have a reason, even if it's just hunger.

So finally, after all that research that left him wondering if there was even a wizard to begin with, Roman packed his things and went to the wizard´s hideout.

Now, when he was told that the wizard “Lived in a cave” he was expecting, like, you know, a small and cozy cave with the bare essentials and a poorly made door or something like that.

But what he found couldn't be more different

For starters, the cave was big. We are talking shit-I-can't-even-see-the-ceiling levels of big. And it had a nice carved path on the stone floor that went from the entrance towards a nice and cozy looking cottage.

He approached it and knocked at the door. He shuffled awkwardly for a few seconds before the door opened to reveal a man that made Roman have A Gay Panic™

The guy was attractive. Like, otherworldly ethereal being levels of attractive. His factions were sharp and his eyes were hypnotic, one being a warm brown and the other being a bright almost yellow-y green. Half of his face was dusted with shimmering scales of that same color. His hair was slightly ruffled and was wearing a grey and yellow shirt with black pants.

When he saw Roman, his expression became an amused one.

“Oh, and what do we have here? A noble has come to dear old me for help? My, my, what an honor.” He practically purred “How could I possibly be of assistance, sir?”

Roman surprisingly didn't melt and smiled.

“Ah, such is that I did not come to see you looking for help, it was out of mere curiosity” Roman lied. “I am right in assuming that you are the one they call “The Snake”?”

“Oh, is that what they call me now? What a lovely and not at all ominous alias they gave me!” He said with a roll of his eyes and a grin. “Why, yes, it is probably me, but I much prefer Dee if you don't mind”

Roman snorted and nodded “Duly noted, so, I have some questions that-”

“You want me to answer, excellent, since I'm sure this will be a long and not at all boring chat, would you perhaps like to come inside?” Dee offered and Ro accepted.

Both of them entered the cottage and Dee closed the door behind his guest to later guide him towards a living room of sorts. It had a couple of comfortable-looking chairs that were covered by soft and fluffy looking wool blankets.

“Please make yourself comfortable, sir” Dee instructed as he sat in one of the chairs, the “sir” was said in almost a mocking manner

And they started talking.

“What are you doing here?”

“Me? Oh well, this kingdom is just so lovely! Why wouldn't I want to come and visit?” He said with a roll of his eyes

“If you wanted to come and see the kingdom, why didn't you go to the town instead of staying here in the middle of a cave away from everyone like a gosh darn goblin?”

“My, why didn't I think of that! Staying in town with people that surely wouldn't ever dream of trying to throw rocks at me the moment they saw my face! I would have surely found someone to rent me a place, it's not like there is a stigma that us magic users are evil and should not be trusted! How could I-”

“Yeah I get it. Stupid question, no need for the overuse of sarcasm” Roman snorted.

And talked.

And the day became night and they still were talking.

And Roman discovered a number of things about Dee:

1) He wasn't actually “making people disappear”.To those that just badly wanted to run away he gave an always-full skin of water and an infinite loaf of bread and sent them on the direction to one of the neighbouring kingdoms.

2) He was charming and sweet and kind.

3) He actually got the scales after a witch cursed him to become a basilisk because she mistook him for the guy that killed her husband. Upon realizing her mistake the witch tried to undo the curse but the scales wouldn’t go away. He thinks they add a little Something to his Aesthetic and the witch still feels terrible about it to this day.

And so, Roman decided to keep visiting Dee.

Fast forward a couple of months and Ro has got himself a new boyfriend that Virgil would very much like to burn at the stake and Dee has got himself a new boyfriend that drags him off in Reckless and Moronic adventures and that might just be the only human on this god forsaken planet to out-gay and out-drama him.

They love each other very much.

#Roceit #roman sanders #ts roman #deceit sanders #ts deceit #virgil sanders #ts virgil #remus sanders #ts remus #logan sanders #ts logan #patton sanders #ts patton #sanders sides #sanders sides au #feel free to take this idea and run with it

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lankylevi · 5 years

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Rating: E Relationships: Levi Ackerman & Eren Jaeger Tags: Kinktober 2019, Smut, Top Levi, Bottom Eren Yeager, Halloween Costumes, Werewolves.

Summary: Chapter 1: Overstimulation with Werewolf Levi: Top Levi & Bottom Eren.

Note: It’s officially the 15th here which means this is finally getting posted! Overstimulation is this month’s poll winner and this is also written for @ererismutprompts costume party prompt! (If you want early access to all my works and wanna vote on what I should write next, consider becoming my patreon for only $1! (Link in bio))

Read on AO3 or below

“I can’t believe I’m wearing this.”

“Your own idea backfired at you,” Jean snorted as Eren walked out of his room in a full sexy bunny costume. He didn’t even try to keep in his enjoyment and fell into a whole laughing fit while Eren tried to find a coat long enough so people wouldn’t think he was some type of hooker when they’d walk to the costume party.

Eren grumbled, “Since when are you even decent at Overwatch?” They had placed a bet, five games, the loser had to embarrass himself by wearing one of those slutty, pin up bunny costumes with huge ears to Hanji’s costume party on Friday. Meanwhile the other could just go as Batman.

“Since Armin taught me,” Jean said and Eren had to roll his eyes.

Armin, their mutual friend and the one who introduced them to Hanji, had been obviously flirting with Jean. And Jean cockily flirted back, but neither of them had the actual guts to make a move. “Just fucking date already.”

“Wha- me and Armin? You’re joking,” Jean feigned offense and Eren slapped him on his bicep.

“You better make a fucking move tonight or I’m telling.”

“So I take the attention away from your ass cheeks hanging out? Haha- Auw!”

Eren’s palm connected to the back of his roommate’s head as he glared at him. “Let’s just go and get this over with.”

At a quarter past eleven, they arrived at the party and Hanji eagerly opened the door to their apartment. Hanji was a chipper brunet, always acting like they were high on crack and tonight was no different.

“Welcome boys,” they slurred. The roommates already felt the vibrations of the music inside their chests and a wave of alcohol and weed hit them as Hanji leaned against the doorframe. “you’re smoking hot tonight.”

“Eren!” Armin wriggled his way through the dancing crowd, waving his hand enthusiastically, “Oh, and hi, Jean.” Of course, Armin would be dressed as Robin. As if they could be any more obvious.

Jean nodded and Eren waved back in response, shaking his head.

“Hanji, I think Levi needs your help.” Armin nudged their side with his elbow, “He’s about to make two girls cry.”

“Ugh, Leviiii.”

With that, Hanji disappeared back into the crowd and Armin showed them where they could hang their coats.

“Looks like Jean won, huh?” Armin said, trying to keep his snorts and giggles under control as Eren fumbled with the hem of his coat.

“‘S your fault. Look where your stupid crush got me.” Glaring, Eren finally got rid of the article of clothing after taking a long breath. No one would even bat an eye at him right now, he definitely wasn’t the only slutty something at this party. Fishnets also weren’t as comfortable as they looked and he was pretty sure half of the back of his costume had disappeared between his ass cheeks.

Armin chuckled, “Well, you look good. Maybe you’ll also... you know.”

“You can say “get laid” Ar,” Eren huffed, smirking when his best friend’s face got as red as a tomato. “What? You’re saying you’re not going on that horse cock tonight? Hahaha!”

“I swear to God, Eren,” Armin shushed him, “stop calling it a horse cock, I’m not a freak.”

Eren pressed his lips firmly together, trying to keep himself from bursting out laughing. “Right.” Armin wasn’t exactly the most vanilla person, he was in fact the reason why Eren had discovered some of his own kinks. Not together, no, no, they’d never. But Ar’s browsing history had revealed some of his own weird fetishes and that was how Eren actually found out there was this thing called ‘knotting’. Very sci-fi but hey, Armin couldn’t kinkshame him when he was into even weirder shit than he was.

All flustered, Armin dragged him through the dancing crowd till they found their usual group of friends. Mikasa was wearing a Marceline of Adventure Time costume while her girlfriend, Annie, a Princess Bubblegum one; not looking entirely happy about it. It was cute though, cuter than the Batman and Robin Jean and Armin were trying to pull off while still convincing everyone there was nothing going on between them. Did they really think they were all blind?

Mikasa nodded at where Jean and Armin stood and Eren turned his head to see Horseface filling up Ar’s cup. Idiots, he thought before Annie couldn’t suppress the urge to comment on his outfit any longer. “Isn’t it a little too early for Easter?”

“That pink really evens out your bitterness, Annie.”

“Oeh-oh! What a burn.”

“Okay, easy you two,” Mikasa interrupted them for the millionth time. “Eren, go socialize with my cousin, he also lost a bet.”

Eren followed her stare and his eyes landed on a shirtless raven, angrily sipping on his cup. “Don’t mind if I do.” Did he seriously say that out loud?

“Gross,” Annie scrunched up her nose and Mikasa shook her head.

“Please don’t get it on with my cousin, Eren.”

“Why? Is he gay?” Eren looked at her expectantly with a wicked grin. Not caring to wait for her answer, he straightened his back and made sure to sway his hips a little as he strolled towards the shirtless man. Luckily his heels weren’t too high or he would’ve probably made a fool out of himself already. Please be gay, please be gay, please be gay.

“Oh, yes, he’s definitely not straight,” he mumbled to himself as he saw the raven’s eyes raking over his body while smirking with a raised brow. This meant he could go for his usual strategy; teasing, teasing and some more teasing.

Instead of walking straight at him, he went for a detour and grabbed himself some punch, making sure to stick out his butt as he filled his red cup with the green, witchy liquid. He looked over his shoulder, sending the raven a flirty grin before he turned on his heels and leaned against the nearest wall. He took small gulps of his drink, which actually wasn’t bad at all, kudos to Hanji taking extra bartending classes.

The raven still hadn’t moved from his spot, so Eren went to phase two. He side-eyed Mikasa’s cousin and while their eyes locked he seductively bit his lip as he ran a hand through his chocolate brown locks. Fucking finally. The raven walked towards him and while Eren was surprised by his short stature, he sure didn’t mind the perfect set of abs and scowl on his face. Emotional unavailability, count him in.

“So, what are you supposed to be?” Eren said while lowering his cup, not hiding the fact that he was eyeing him up and down like a piece of meat.

Rolling his eyes, the raven pointed at Hanji who was currently doing the limbo. “A werewolf, Hanji’s fault.”

“Where are your tail and ears then…?”

“Levi,” and he shook his head, “I left them at home. Plus, I’m supposed to be Jacob from that Twilight bullshit.”

“Ah, quality literature,” Eren nodded, chuckling under his breath before he took another sip of his drink. “All he did was walk around shirtless anyway and you’re certainly pulling it off.”

Levi scoffed and raised one of his brows, ��I would almost think you’re hitting on me…?”

“Eren,” he smiled, “and so what if I am?”

“I’m not complaining,” Levi said and he took the brunet’s drink out of his hand, the brief skin to skin contact making the tips of Eren’s ears burn, and downed it in one go. “So, Eren.”

Clearing his throat, Eren tried to keep his composure as Levi sent him a toothy grin, he was gonna eat him alive wasn’t he? “Hmm?”

“I happen to like bunnies, so how about we go to my place?” The raven said and stretched an arm to touch Eren’s waist, gently digging his fingers into the soft skin. “Only to see my tail and ears of course.”

Gulping, Eren’s mouth went dry and he enthusiastically nodded his head as he felt the heat spread through his body and straight to his crotch. Embarrassing.

Within a matter of minutes, he found himself in the passenger seat of Levi’s car and the raven fastened his seat belt for him, whispering in his ear to behave if he wanted him to be nice. In all honesty, the thought of Levi fucking him roughly stirred him up more, making his cock strain against the confinements of his costume.

“Now be a good little bunny and sit still,” Levi smirked as he hovered over him before dipping down and hungrily clashing their lips together. Pants and moans spilled from the boy’s lips and he rutted his hips against Levi’s hand palming his cock. Eren whined in protest when the raven quickly pulled away before he slid in the driver’s seat. “Better not distract me while driving if you want to come tonight.”

Eren was almost certain he heard Levi purr when he wrung his hands together to keep them occupied and a shot of arousal slid up his spine. He really was gonna have him for dinner and nothing excited the brunet more.

With his legs wrapped around Levi’s waist, Eren didn’t pay any attention to where he actually was when he was slammed against the nearest wall. Levi’s tongue swiped roughly over Eren’s bottom lip and the raven ravished his mouth as he clawed at his clothes.

A surprised gasp spilled past the boy’s lips when Levi ripped his clothes with his nails and left a trail of shreds behind them as he was being carried down the hall to what he presumed was Levi’s bedroom. He was thrown on the bed and within seconds Levi hovered over him and pinned his hands above his head. “Little rabbit fell into my trap.”

Eren never thought he’d be into dirty talk, let alone roleplay, but with the pure animalistic lust Levi was treating him, he couldn’t help but get even more turned on. “Aren’t you going to be nice to me?” Eren bit his lip and Levi’s eyes went from soft grey to vibrant silver at his words.

“Not in the slightest,” Levi sent Eren another toothy grin and a wave of arousal coursed through Eren’s body at the sight. “You have a thing for my teeth?”

Pressing his lips firmly together and keeping himself from making embarrassing noises as he saw Levi swiping his tongue over the sharp edge of his canine, Eren nodded his head and shuddered under his hold.

“You won’t be able to keep quiet once I start having my fun with you, little rabbit,” Levi purred in his ear, rutting his hips so the fabric of his jeans slid roughly over Eren’s pink cock. Leaning down, he bit and sucked on one of Eren’s pierced nipples, rolling the bud between his teeth until the brunet was gasping and thrusting his hips up. “Sensitive? How cute.”

With every action and word Levi gave him, Eren felt his mouth go dryer and dryer and his cock grow impossibly harder. Pearly fluid leaked freely on his stomach, leaving a slick mess all over his chest as Levi hooked his hands under the back of Eren’s knees and pushed forward.

High pitched whimpers and moans spilled past Eren’s lips every time Levi darted out his tongue to lap over his sensitive hole. “L-Levi…” His voice came out shaking and broken as the raven wriggled his tongue past the tight ring of muscle and started thrusting it ever so slowly. Eren wasn’t going to last long.

As Levi bit into the round globe of Eren’s ass, the boy yelped and quickly succumbed under his touch as Levi slid one finger in slowly. He hummed at the tight heat with a smirk before planting another bitemark on the tanned skin. He added his tongue to the mess, alternating between pushing it deep into his ass as he hooked two fingers to spread his hole, and biting down onto his cheeks, close to breaking the skin.

With an angled thrust of Levi’s fingers, Eren tensed and cried out as thick ropes of come streaked over his red collarbones. His chest heaved, cock twitching as Levi milked his prostate dry and kept going until it left the boy completely shaking and blabbering, “L-Levi, I- I already came.”

“I know,” Levi said flatly, lapping over his hole again and angling his fingers, abusing the sensitive bundle of nerves inside Eren’s body until he started begging for him to stop. “Stop? I’m not even nearly done with you.”

Eren’s eyes blew wide at the words, cock growing hard again under the rough treatment of Levi’s tongue swiping over the seam of his balls and dipping into the slit. “I… can’t.”

“You’re a brave little human, you can take it,” Levi smirked as he shoved his nose into the neatly trimmed hairs at the base of Eren’s dick, taking in a deep breath. The action left Eren lost for words as the raven continued and unbuttoned his jeans to let his cock spring free.

It was nothing like Eren had ever seen in real life; Levi’s cock was slightly ribbed, thicker at the base and his cockhead had a pinkishly red sheen to it, just like the dildos he had seen on pornhub and both excitement and fear took over his body. He swallowed thickly, not knowing exactly what to say or do as the raven crawled closer and leaned down to leave a sloppy kiss just below his ear, “Never seen a real werewolf? Adorable.”

Eren’s world flipped upside down as he was pushed down onto his stomach, ass sticking up in the air. He immediately moaned at being so deliciously manhandled, previous worries left forgotten as Levi spread his cheeks and poured a decent amount of lube onto the crevice of his ass. He didn’t care at this point, he wanted to get fucked by Levi and his werewolf dick. Would he also have a knot?

With a slap on his ass, Eren yelped and looked back over his shoulder, blush turning crimson as Levi spanked him again. He was really hitting all of his kinks tonight and he didn’t even realize it.

“Stop thinking, brat,” Levi said as his palm connected to Eren’s ass cheek again, leaving a stinging burn in its wake before he slid three lubed up fingers inside the brunet. “I can smell you’re distracted, come back to me. All of you.”

Eren moaned loudly into the pillow as Levi grabbed his hips and buried his entire length inside of him in one smooth motion. The brunet felt every ridge and bump stroking across his walls with bruising force, clamping down on the thick cock. He got a well deserved minute to get used to his length and girth before the werewolf increased his pace slowly.

He felt everything, the claws digging into his hips, Levi’s cock moving in and out of his willing hole, his hot breath against his spine and his own cock roughly rubbing over the covers. Everything was too much and yet he wanted, craved more of Levi. An insatiable hunger he had never experienced before overrode all logical thought and he rocked his hips backward against Levi’s.

The sound of skin slapping on skin filled the room as Levi started moving with bruising force, letting the animal inside of him take over as the little human beneath him moved and moaned so willingly. “Uncover your mouth, let me hear your pretty noises, my brave rabbit.”

Eren titled his head slightly to the side, letting the werewolf’s ears pick up on the soft pants and moans he made as he buried himself deep inside his ass.

“Prepare yourself, boy.” Levi snarled, angling his hips to slam precisely against his prostate, turning Eren into a drooling, blabbering mess as the werewolf fucked him roughly.

Eren whined in overstimulation as his prostate was abused to the point his entire body trembled and tears rolled down his cheeks, feeling too good for words. He gasped at the sensation of Levi’s cock growing bigger, stretching his hole wider with each thrust.

With a deep rumble inside his chest, Levi launched forward and bit down on Eren’s nape, drawing blood, as he slammed his cock deep inside Eren. Knot growing to its full size, stretching the human impossibly wide, he came in the boy’s ass, painting his insides with thick ropes of his come.

He felt beyond full, cum and knot filling him up to the brim and when Levi’s teeth sank into his flesh, his second release crashed over him. He came untouched, cock twitching and spurting his come on his stomach and the covers. A sleepy smile spread across his face when Levi held his hips up as his body lost its final strength.

Completely satisfied, Levi planted a kiss on the back of Eren’s neck, whispering sweet praises in his ear as sleep washed over the little human. “My sweet Eren.”

It was dawn when Eren awoke, the sun peeking through the curtains. He was tucked in bed, clean, and with a pair of pajama pants on. The smell of tea and something sweet filling up his nostrils.

It took him a moment to recollect his thoughts, the vivid images of last night flashing before his eyes. As he stood, the heavy pain in his hips along with the purple bruises and red marks all over his body served as another reminder that all of it had been indeed, very real.

With a droopy grin, he got up from the bed and shuffled towards the source of the sweet, hearty smell, finding Levi sitting on one of the chairs in nothing but sweatpants and two sets of pancakes in front of him. Had he cooked breakfast?

Levi’s eyes shot up once Eren peaked his head past the doorframe and he instantly jumped up and wrapped his arms around the brunet’s waist. He held him gently, a purr rumbling in his chest as he nuzzled his nose in his human’s neck. “Morning.”

Overwhelmed by the sudden affection, Eren stammered, “Morning.” Levi was so gentle with him, a complete 180 compared to last night, but it honestly felt right? As if their bodies remembered each other from before and were finally reunited. Eren laughed under his breath, how silly of him.

#ereri #riren #eren x levi #levi ackerman #rivaere #eren jaeger #mywriting #kinktober #nff #toplevi #leave some love if you liked it <3 #werewolf!levi #fic

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drsenkustone · 4 years

Text

🧪How to Survive🧪

CH6 - Mind Reader

It’s been a couple months now since that night you learned about Tsukasa. A lot has happened and progressed in that short time. Old man Kaseki joined the team, glass was acquired, more rocks, the village had finally surrendered to Senku when he cured Ruri of her illness...more...rocks. ANYWAYS. He seemed slightly different since that day, but you didn’t want to be rude and ask. You don’t know what she brought him out the woods food, it wasn’t your business. But for some reason, your chest had a small ache in it for the rest of that party night while they were gone. Senku didn’t look all too joyous when he came back though, neither did Ruri. You had no gall to ask them what happened, neither did anyone else though.

Now, you were considered the new cook for the main team, since so far out of everyone, you proved to make the ramen the best. So it seemed logical that you could create other average foods that tasted better. While you did agree and held a bit of proudness in your skills, you knew you weren’t the best out there. However, Suika’s praising of how wonderful the ramen gave you a few chances to live in the moment of it. You looked over as your pot boil the lunch, watching Kohaku kick Kinro and Ginro’s ass. In all the chaos in the past couple months, the village had joined the Kingdom of Science and now everyone was preparing for a large battle. Watching Kohaku though it warmed your heart a bit, seeing a woman in this day and age that could kick a man’s ass so easily.

“That’s the wrong person you’re staring at,” a silky voice behind you softly stated in your ear. Shivers shot down your spine as you snapped your head over your shoulder to see Gen leaning so close into you. He hadn’t moved an inch from when he spoke in your ear, the closeness made you fall back to your side a bit for space. He had been a freakin inch away!! What the hell?!

“Wh-what the hell are you talking about Gen? I’m watching a strong woman in action!” He had decided to take a seat next to you and you straightened back up and focused on your cooking. You didn’t like how he made himself so comfortable with you already.

“Well, I guess if you’re bi it makes sense,” he snickered, his grin not moving as he stared at you. You could only return a glare back. (But being real, if you were bi or gay Kohaku would be the best one to long for, you love a strong woman any day!) “I could watch her all day. But shouldn’t your eyes be looking in that direction?” He motioned his head to your side and by instinct you looked. It was Senku in the glass shed trying to craft something on the table, you couldn’t tell what from here. He wasn’t the best craftsman, but you could see he was giving it all his thought and energy. His muscles flexed as he struggled with certain items, a couple drops of sweat falling from his forehead. Listening closely you could just about hear his labored breathing once in a while. Chrome shortly walked up to him with more stones and glass and joined the process.

“It’s Senku and Chrome trying to build somethi—“

“You’re undeniably falling for Senku (y/n)-chan~” Gen hummed lowly, once again, in close proximity of your ear. Your back straightened as another wave of shivers hit, but you felt your cheeks flush at the thought and immediately turned around glaring at him.

“The hell I’m not!!” Gen knew that would be your reaction, and he didn’t miss it in his peripheral vision when he Senku glance over for a moment, then turned back to his work.

“Then why are you cheeks suddenly so red (y/n)-chan?~”

“I--That—…you don’t!—“ Your brain racked for answers, fuckin hell mentalist getting into shit he knows nothing about! “Th-the ramen is getting too hot, that’s all!” You huff, staring all your energy into the one pot of ramen. Gen chuckled lowly. You should at least know better to try to look a person in the eyes if you’re trying to lie. This was too easy for such a skilled mentalist like himself.

“That’s not the only pot that’s getting hot, yours just needs a scientific snack~” To add emphasis to his words, his hand lightly tapped just above your kneecap and pulled away again, his all-knowing grin reaching to each side of his ears. He got you good. Your (e/c) orbs were twice the size, mouth dropped open inviting any flies in the area to come in and your face redder than a sunburnt tomato. You couldn’t even find words, any words!!! He malfunctioned your brain on a secret that only your brain had known! You couldn’t let him be right though, he would torture you with his stupid mental games! You got your brain back online and realized then he stood up and walked away to see how Senku and Chrome were doing. Dammit!!!

You rested your head in your hand as you stirred the pot. It was too late now, you were screwed. The mentalist knew and you couldn’t find a rebuttal fast enough. You knew Gen a bit better at this point, he wasn’t the type to blab it to Senku. He would find a way to have fun to his satisfaction. You groaned…you were probably in this for the long haul.

“(Y/n)? Are you okay?” Your head lifted at the soft voice, seeing Suika who had offered to get the bowls and chopsticks for the group. “You look kind of flushed, are you sick again?” You smiled to the child, Suika was such a pure soul.

“Nah, the ramen is just a bit hot for this weather,” you motioned to the sky on this bright sunny day. “It’s just about time to eat, go let the boys in the shed know and I’ll get Kohaku’s team.” Suika jumped for joy to be useful, rolling away to the shed. You lifted yourself and went to interrupt their scrimmage.

It was finally that time of day that it was dusk, nightfall was just upon you. You panted heavily as you fell flat on your stomach into the dirt. You were sweaty and exhausted, but you felt pretty amazing oddly enough. Senku laid next to you panting as well...this might be somewhat erotic sounding if Gen wasn’t panting on the other side of you. (Or maybe some of you think that adds to it.) You pulled yourself to sit up and used your arm to wipe the sweat off your forehead. Pumping the furnace was a team-effort, but damn with just the three of you it was torture to get it going and staying aflame.

“A-alright..” Senku panted, pushing the droopy bangs out of his eyes. “That’s all for tonight, let’s all get some rest.” He was obviously exhausted while he stood, but while you moved to stand his hand was in front of your face, palm up offering to aid you. You thankfully took it as he pulled you up, his eyes did lock with yours, even while you two were on your feet. You saw his lips about to twitch to a smile when your body was shoved harshly into his. Not a second later you both were on the dirt and you laid on top of the scientist.

“Ooh, oops, I’m sorry! I stumbled getting to my feet,” Gen exaggerated, wiping the sweat drops from under his chin. He didn’t exaggerate his exhaustion, but he fully meant shoving you into Senku. You were right, you knew this would happen. Your face was pressed against his chest, his hands on the sides of his body and your legs a tangled mess. You cheeks flushed a bit as you scrambled to your feet, stuttering out apology after apology to him.

Senku chuckled lightly, “It’s no big deal,” he waved it off, a soft smile trying to calm you.

“I-I’m gong to go clean up, then I’ll go to bed,” you stated heading towards the wood line, thankful you knew where the water was now.

“You shouldn’t go alone when it’s getting late out,” Senku stated loud enough for you to hear, he knew you did.

“I’ll be fine!!!” You practically yelled with nervous energy. You wanted to be separated a bit, you felt entirely flustered. Before allowing another one of them to think or act, you sprinted to the water. Guess you weren’t all out of energy.

The Scientist sighed, it wouldn’t take too much longer until it was quite dark out, and in these woods it can be hard to navigate. He was worried about you getting back, but also about the dangers that may or may not be lurking. He wasn’t much protection...maybe he could fetch Kohaku or Kinro.

“Senku-chan, you should go after her,” Gen piped in, catching Senku’s attention, looking over at the mentalist.

“Huhhh?” Senku raised an eyebrow, obviously confused.

“It is getting pretty late, by the time you find somebody else to go with her, something may happen before then.” He wasn’t wrong on that, Senku knew that was entirely possible. “Besides, maybe you can get a peek~” Gen grinned wiggling his eyebrows to the younger. Senku’s eyes widened before he scoffed off Gen’s perverted comment, turning his back and began walking where you ran away.

“I have no interest in such problematic extravaganzas. However, you’re right, by the time I find Kohaku or Kinro to go with her, it’ll be dark. I’m going to go wait for her nearby.” Senku stated as he disappeared into the wood line following your steps. Gen was so proud of himself, his imaginary flowers twirling around his head as he went to his hutch under the science shed. It was fun to mess with you, but it’s even more fun to mess with the scientist. Did he notice how he stared into your eyes? Did he notice how his hand lingered on your fingertips? When you two laid in the dirt, he aimed to catch you to lessen your fall? Hands holding the small of your waist? His very hard-to-see blush? The change in his breathing and even up to now, how simple it was to convince him to follow you. Gen didn’t miss a beat, the foolish scientist.

Unknown to Gen, Senku did notice every single effect you caused in him. Every one.

#dr stone #senku ishigami #howtosurvivesenku #senku x reader

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