#new au to add to my ever increasing pile

[lets-try-some-writing]

Whims of the Fae

Fae walk among the people of Cybertron. They are so few in number that often their actions become mere tales, lost to rumor. But their presence is undeniable to those who know the signs, and in recent cycles, they have begun to gather. Optronix didn't care about the strange stories and the concerns of potential war. He was just a dock worker. What did it matter to him?

That was what he thought until one Head Archivist found himself "lost" in Optronix's place of work. It was only polite to help the poor mech out...

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“You need to be careful! Don’t want the fair folk stealing you away!” Dion smacked him on the back fondly and chugged his ration like it was the last he would ever consume. Optronix grimaced and held his ration calmly. Dion always lived every cycle like it was his last, which considering their station, it very well could have been. Low caste mecha generally didn’t make it past thirty vorns before they gave out or were offlined in some accident.

“The fair folk are just stories. You know that, Dion.” Optronix muttered as he watched the area around him warily. There was something… off. He couldn’t place it exactly, but the very air seemed unsettled, distorted in a sense. Maybe it was the fumes from the ships coming in and out of the docks getting to him. 

“Sure! But you are still too nice for your own good! At this rate, some mech is going to scam you for all you are worth and leave you dead in a ditch.” Dion gave him a slightly more serious look, but he promptly stood and stretched, an alarm on his arm blaring. 

“Take care of yourself, buddy. I’ve got another shift.” Dion’s back gave a worrying crack and Optronix frowned as his elder friend winced. Dion was only twenty vorns old, but he was already showing wear and tear worthy of mecha deep into their fifth millennia of life. It concerned him, but there was little he could do aside from help in minor ways. Getting a medic cost an arm and a leg down on the docks. The most they could afford were the back alley scrappers who knew about anatomy from picking mecha apart for the organ trade in the red light district.

Optronix shuddered as he considered that possibility. No mech in their right mind wanted to go anywhere near a scrapper unless they were literally bleeding to death. He frowned as he looked down at his leg where bolt scars remained from the singular time he’d been forced to go to a scrapper. He was lucky it was just his leg. Dion going for his back would end with him losing his spinal struts in an ‘accident’. 

He sighed as he broke from his thoughts and Optronix stood and gently pressed on the small of Dion’s back, snapping a component back into place and earning a relieved sigh in return. His friend stretched again, this time with far more flexibility as his spinal struts realigned. 

“Be careful Dion. I don’t want you offlining due to overexertion.” Optronix smiled, but it was strained. If Dion noticed, he didn’t say anything. Their kind were condemned to die, they knew it from the moment they were assigned their function and caste. Still, it hurt to acknowledge once it started to have an effect on reality. 

“I will. Make sure to actually drink your ration this time. Don’t give it out to some stranger again.” Dion waved as he walked off and Optronix held his energon cube with a sigh. He was done for the cycle, unlike his companion. Arriving extra early meant he got to go to his dingy hab at a reasonable time. Not that there was much to do at his hab aside from wallow of course, but it was nice to have the free time to just… exist. 

He tried to focus on that pleasant aspect of his routine as he began heading toward the exit of the docks. And yet despite his concern for Dion and the overall relief that came from being done with his regular hard labor, Optronix found himself on edge. The feeling of wrong was getting stronger, and no matter where he looked, everything seemed to be off. He tried to move faster, hoping to go to his hab and have the feeling fade. But before he could, an elegant and most certainly higher caste voice called out to him.

“Excuse me, I appear to have gotten quite turned around. Would you perhaps be willing to guide me to the train to upper Iacon?” Optronix whipped around far faster than he would have liked. His optics were wide and his finials perked in instinctual terror as he laid his gaze upon a smaller mech, not particularly shapely, but sturdy and his armor hugging him in appealing ways. His red and blue plating shone with all the luster of the newly forged and his face was without blemish, two perfectly innocent and yet eerily knowledgeable optics shining up at him.

Every part of his coding demanded he run, and yet Optronix found himself enraptured. It wasn’t natural, but this mech was… strange. His EM field was soothing and compelling in a sense. Optronix didn’t want to leave even as the mech stepped forward.

“Sure! I can get you there in no time Sir!” Optronix hastily replied, turning away from those optics that seemed to stare into his very spark. Quickly reviewing his memory, Optronix gestured for the mech to follow and began to walk. He looked over at the smaller bot periodically, but otherwise they continued in silence. He still held his energon cube, but as soon as they left the docks, he found his tanks churning in nausea. 

He didn’t want to waste it, but he wouldn’t be refueling anytime soon now. Everything felt too strange for him to even hope to keep any energon down. Looking over at his companion, Optronix found himself torn. The mech had come with him without question, and that was worrying. If Optronix were anyone else, the high caste mech would likely be taken into some dark alley and shredded for parts or otherwise mutilated. The fact that his companion opted to follow him so easily was off putting, and not in the way Optronix expected.

It stank of some sort of trap. There wasn’t a mech dumb enough to follow a random stranger so close to the red light district without either some form of potent protection or a scheme guaranteed to assure safety. 

“It isn’t much, but would you like some energon? I am sure it isn’t exactly what a mech of your station is used to, but it's something to keep you going. The trip to upper Iacon is a long one from what I hear.” He held out his ration to the smaller mech, hoping that it would perhaps calm his spark’s nervous spin. Usually being charitable eased him a degree, giving him a sense of purpose. However as the smaller mech watched him, observing him with a simple smile and accepting the cube, Optronix still felt nothing but protoform rattling uncertainty. 

He wanted to leave. He had to leave. And yet his frame would not let him. The mech just kept staring at him, and something told him that trying to run wouldn’t end well for him. The further they went, the more it felt as though Optronix were wading into a minefield. Every step was a gamble, and Optronix could feel his tanks churn with greater unease the closer they came to the train station.

“Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality.” The smaller mech smiled with denta just a bit too sharp to be normal as he accepted the cube and took a polite sip. Optronix walked faster. 

This was wrong. He couldn’t pinpoint why, but he needed to finish helping the mech and leave immediately. Whatever was going on behind the scenes was not meant for him.

“Uh, what’s your name by the way?” His vocalizer felt heavy, the glyphs slurring as he tried to speak. He could see the train station in the distance, and never more did he wish he could run. Still, he needed to be polite. He was probably just on edge. The mech he was walking with was likely lost and uncertain. He needed to put his paranoia away, keep it together, and save up to see a medic. Ariel told him about stories where mecha went mad from the fumes. 

“You may call me Head Archivist Pax. I ended up down here while searching for my Conjunx.” Optronix almost tripped over his own pedes. Maybe that’s why he was so unsettled. Such a high caste mech down in the lower levels… Optronix was asking to be wrapped up into something or killed in some political garbage. 

He bit his lower derma and tried to focus his attention on the growing shades that came from the light of the nearest star receding. Perhaps his fear was from the darkness, he’d never been fond of the dark after Gears vanished into the lower levels never to be seen again. That had to be his reason for being so shaky, it couldn’t have been the Head Archivist. For Primus’s sake, Pax had done exactly nothing and Optronix’s behavior was likely going to scare him.

Optronix tried to vent as he approached the station with his companion. There was no going back now.

“It is an honor to meet someone as high up on the chain as you Head Archivist. I hope you find your way home safely!” Optronix stepped into the train station, bowing slightly as he’d seen mecha do on TV as he waited for the Head Archivist to leave. Pax regarded him simply and smiled, his now empty energon cube calmly placed in the recycling.

“You have been very courteous. Might I have your information? I wish to reward you for your kindness.” Pax smiled, and Optronix felt the very air draw in tight around him like a cage as he straightened. Panic rose in his very base coding and before he could stop himself, he reached to extend a commlink invitation to offer his identification and stop the sheer terror sinking into his protoform..

“Of course! I would be honored-” Optronix lurched forward, his servos instinctually coming to grasp his helm as his processors pounded. His body ached in a way he couldn’t describe and his spark panged in loss. The air was heavy and laced with static, so much so that when Optronix had the will to try and stand upright again, he could only take one step back before he fell to his knees shaking.

“This is the one you have chosen? He seems fidgety.” Opronix found coolant gathering in his optics as primal fear settled into his fuel lines. A towering mech, one he distantly recognized as the Champion of Kaon, stood at Pax’s side. He seemed normal, but his presence was oppressive and Optronix was a klik away from purging what little fuel he had in tanks. Where Pax evidently made everything seem wrong on a fundamental level, this mech, Megatronus of Kaon… he made Optronix feel small, unwelcome, and like a thief on land he did not own.

“He is more than sufficient, my love. He has given me what I needed, and I know for a fact that he will perform perfectly in his role. His mind is strong, he is simply a little overwhelmed right now.” Pax dropped to a knee and promptly ran his digits along the edges of Optronix’s face. He wanted to recoil, but those optics stared so intently into him that he could feel them everywhere. Pax saw everything, all that he was and ever would be. There was no escape. 

“Bind him to you, beloved. He must be prepared for the gifts we are to give.” Optronix tried to move, but as Pax stood and he remained on his knees, he found he couldn’t. Megatronus towered over him, eclipsing any chance of escape as he uttered a simple phrase.

“May I have your oath of allegiance?” The gladiator’s presence destroyed everything else. The world was collapsing in on itself. Light warped and was eradicated by the unstoppable titan before him. The scenery shifted into an all encompassing void only filled with the presence of whatever in the pits Megatronus was. Impending doom settled in his spark, and all Optronix could do was shake.

There was no escape. He was lost in this void. His voice was nothing amidst the emptiness.

“You are exerting too much influence, my Champion. Look at him, he can’t even vent.” The sound of the train pulling into the station and Pax’s voice broke through the void. Color and form returned to reality, and Optronix collapsed entirely as he gasped, his fans spinning wildly as he found himself desperately trying to cool his heated frame. He shook like a sheet of tin in a storm as he stared up in horror as the beings before him.

They weren’t Cybertronian, they couldn't be. There was no way normal mecha could do whatever they had just done.

“Optronix, it would be in your best interest to give your oath. You may not survive what is to come otherwise.” Pax smiled at him with all the faux innocence of a scrapper gazing down at his prey. Optronix wanted to cry. Dion was right. He’d been too kind and now he’d gotten wrapped up into whatever this was.

His vocalizer felt like lead in his throat as Optronix weighed his options and enjoyed the brief reprieve from the oppressive force that was the Champion of the Pits. He still shook as he pulled himself to one knee, instinct guiding his actions as he spoke. It was as if another spoke on his behalf and gave him words he otherwise had no clue how to say.

“I give my loyalty to the Lord of the Court of Fae. My allegiance to the Court shall endure until death or I am released from my bonds. Forever shall I come when summoned.” His spark screamed as fire raged throughout his frame. Optronix could only manage a strangled cry as he collapsed again, a brand seemingly being burned into his very spark. 

“Very good. You’ve done well. Now, we must not miss our train. The night is young and there is much to be done.” Pax grinned, his smile growing far wider than it should have been capable of. Megatronus for his part huffed and dragged Optronix by the arm, planting him on his pedes as though he weighed nothing. 

“I call upon you who is bound to me. Answer my summons and follow me.” Megatronus’s words drowned out all else, and before Optronix could so much as scream, one direct goal quieted his will. He quickly found himself walking behind the duo at a brisk yet seemingly comfortable pace. His plating flared, his optics were wide, and his field pulsed erratically off and on. Yet no matter how much he willed himself to move, to run in any other direction… his frame failed to obey him. 

They entered the train and Optronix was quickly ordered to sit next to Megatronus on one of the many dilapidated seats. The trains in the lower levels were held together by tape and a prayer more often than not. However it seemed that fact did not bother the two beings beside him as the train rolled out of the station. They sat comfortably, and it seemed as though the train itself molded to their preferences. It shouldn’t have been possible, but colors ran along the walls where they shouldn’t have been. Metal warped and shone before returning to its usual state. The windows showed the outside one moment, and a horrifying void the next.

He looked firmly at his pedes, desperate to keep himself calm as he ran through the situation in his mind.

These were fair folk. There was no other explanation. The fair folk were the only ones capable of stealing intangible things and altering reality like it was dough. There were all sorts of stories around the docks about them. Always third party retellings and things heard in passing. Still, as the train chugged along and the ground shifted colors, Optronix searched his memory for anything of use.

“He’s done nothing but stare at the ground. Are you sure he was a good pick? He can’t be strong enough for what we need him to accomplish.” Megatronus spoke with disdain evident in his voice. Optronix stole a brief glance up at the fairy in momentary anger, but he quickly found himself regretting that choice.

The mech, or rather the fairy, was no longer as he looked prior to entering the train. He hadn’t changed much physically, but he seemed larger, darker, his plating sharper and his optics so much more intense. It made Optronix’s tanks churn even harder than they already were. It was enough for shooting pain to assault his insides and remind him of a possible escape. 

Dion said once that fairies couldn’t enter homes. As dock workers, they didn’t really have that. More often than not, home was wherever a mech happened to be at the time. If Optronix could possibly find a way to separate himself and his space from the fair folk, he could possibly claim it as his. Sure, it was a limited and very short term solution, but it was better than whatever the fair folk had planned. He’d heard more than enough stories about mecha being devoured and returning to docks altered, strange, and misshapen. 

“He is perfect for the role I will delegate to him. He carries the correct bloodline and his CNA mimics my own. He merely requires cultivation.” Orion’s silky voice filled the train in a way that shouldn't have been possible, almost as though it were coming from everywhere at once. He didn’t want to look, he couldn’t afford to look as he raised a servo to his intake and bit down, silencing a groan of pain as the fair folk conversed.

“Are you trying to become Ratchet now? Only his kind cultivate the prototypes.” Energon welled from the damaged plating of his left servo. Optronix kept his optics firmly on the comforting glow. It was the only thing on the train that wasn’t changing aside from himself. It was grounding, it was… a warding agent.

“Nonsense my dear Champion. The lower beings do not require or deserve my direct attention. This one is a unique case.” As quietly as he could, Optronix began to drag his digit along the outline of his frame. The energon from the wound was thick and created a firm line cutting him off from the terrifying creature sitting mere feet away.  Just a few more lines, just a few more…

“You say that, but with how many schemes you’ve been developing, it would not surprise me if you brought more of the prototypes into our domain within the vorn.” His frame ached and his servo screamed as he raised it to his intake and bit again, forcing more energon to flow from the deeper wound. He reached toward the ground, acting as though he were attempting to curl up in fear as he dragged his damaged digit along the grimy ground. His vocalizer burned as grime entered the wound, but he paid it no mind.

The fair folk would not have him.

“T-This is my domain, created in my energon and filled by my presence. I order the fair folk away. They shall not enter.” He found strength as he sat up, his optics cycling in uncertainty as he uttered the familiar phrase. The train fell silent, and for a brief moment, Optronix wanted to have hope. Maybe they would leave. Maybe he could find someone to break their bindings and he could go back to living a normal life-

“How very adorable. He thinks we are of the lesser Courts.” Icy terror filled his fuel lines and Optronix gripped his knees so tightly that he drew more energon from his injured servo. No, it had to have worked, it had to have worked. This couldn’t be possible.

“Foolish little prototype. You already belong to us.” Those same servos came to run along the edges of his face, forcing him to look up. Optronix wished he could die right then and there as a mass of limbs and optics met him. That smile breached the confines of the face that held it and still Pax’s voice rang out clear and composed. Not a sound was uttered as the fairy pulled away, its form shifting back into what Optronix knew before it sat back down.

“At least he made an attempt.” Megatronus huffed, only serving to turn fear into rage. He was no sparkling, he was a grown mech and a citizen of Cybertron. If he was to die, he would do so on his own terms and with honor.

“My love.” Pax’s voice came out in a low trill as Optronix made a rash decision. The trains were torn half to pieces, metal jutted out from just about everywhere, and there was a more than acceptable metal pipe clinging to the wall of the train by a single screw. He broke it free without hesitation and swung with all the strength in his frame-

-Only for the pipe to phase straight through Megatronus without so much as scratching him.

“He has some spine after all! Look at that! A prototype trying to fight against and Archfae! Starscream will find this amusing.” Megatronus laughed, a deep and dark chuckle that had Optronix crying before he knew it. Coolant gathered in his optics and despair set in like the plague as he came to a sickening realization.

There was no escape. These things had control over reality, and he had fallen into their web the moment he agreed to walk Pax to the train station.

“I told you he was the correct choice. When will you stop doubting me when it comes to these things?” Pax laughed as well, a light comfortable sound that would have soothed any other mech as the train at last came to a stop. Optronix didn’t even try to fight as he was ordered to follow behind the fair folk that had bought his spark without him knowing.

Night covered the world in a deep gloom, but it did little to lessen the terror that reawakened as the Hall of Records came into view. It was a place of great knowledge, but the elder dock workers always said that knowledge came at a price. The news always had at least one missing person to report in the archives every other vorn at minimum. 

It made sense now. If the fair folk were taking him there, it meant that quite likely, other unfortunate sparks like himself had met their ends there too. 

Dion was right. Why couldn’t he have just been an aft and told Pax to shove off?

“Sire, I request that my guest be granted access to your domain.” Pax stepped inside the building and the lights flickered. A deep rumbling groan came from the very walls and Optronix wished for nothing more than to flee as Megatronus ordered him to enter behind him. He complied even as wires slipped through cracks in the very ground, caressing Pax’s legs and raising threateningly for Megatronus and Optronix.

“Alpha Trion, as your ordained heir and as an Archfae, you will grant my guest and my Conjunx access to your domain. Megatronus is an extension of myself, and soon my guest shall be too. Cease this waste of time.” Pax shifted again and Optronix looked away while doing his best to refrain from crying as the wires pulled away, retreating back into their hiding places. 

So the fair folk had family drama too. Dark amusement, likely edging on insanity, threatened to emerge in the form of a laugh as Optronix followed his fair folk masters deeper into the nightmarish structure. After the train, the archives weren’t quite so bad. The walls shifted, bookshelves moved around, and the lights forever flickered and increased and decreased in brightness. At least there wasn’t a void to devour all hope right outside the window. 

“Drink this.” He was jolted from his thoughts as he was forced to a stop in an open location. The bookshelves had been left behind several kliks ago, and now all that remained was an oval room with a table and a pool of what looked to be energon in the center. He was going to be eaten wasn’t he? Why else would there be what looked like an examination table right next to a pool of energon. His imagination provided him with a plethora of grotesque images of him being drained or possibly picked to pieces as a cube of an undeniable origin was pressed into his servos. 

It looked like energon, but he didn’t have time to question as the fair folk stared him down until he got every last drop of it into his tanks. It seemed like energon too based on the taste, but it left him feeling tingly and his systems bursting with energy it really shouldn’t have had. Maybe high caste energon just did stuff like that.

“Get into the pool.” The order came quickly, and Optronix complied. Not that he had much choice in the matter.

“Stay put.” The second order was more of an afterthought it seemed. As Optronix lowered himself into the pool of energon, he felt strangely at ease. His cables relaxed, his mind started to slow, and pains he didn’t even know he had all melted away in less than a klik. Before he knew it, he had dropped flat onto his back, all thoughts of escape vanquished. If he died this comfortably, he couldn’t exactly complain. It was better than a slow torturous death, that much was certain. 

“Don’t be stingy. Give me your arm! I need as much energon as I can get!” Pax’s voice distantly filtered through the hum that settled into Optronix’s processors. He didn’t seem upset but rather annoyed. Optronix for his part didn’t bother to linger on the thought as he gazed up at the ceiling, watching wires descend and scoop up a mech from a balcony a ways off. The mech screamed as they were dragged into the walls which closed with a sickening crunch.

It explained a lot of missing person reports.

“No, keep it steady. If the composition is off, the procedure could fail in spectacular fashion.” There was Pax saying something again. Optronix wanted to sigh. Could he not be quiet? It was so peaceful…

“He’s drugged out of his mind.” Megatronus laughed and stepped closer, his Conjunx right at his side. Optronix hummed but did not move as Pax entered the pool and stared down at him with a wide smile that would have otherwise had Optronix fearing for his life. 

“Good. He won’t feel the CNA override.” That sounded vaguely concerning.

“Optronix, don’t you worry sweet thing. When you wake up again, you will be born anew. Your name has already been selected.” There was a hint of feral glee in the Head Archivist’s tone. Optronix didn’t even have the strength to hum as recharge hung heavy on his mind. He wanted to rest.

“Drink up. That’s right, just like that.” A vial of something was pressed to his intake, and with some coaxing, the foul tasting concoction made its way to his tanks. He gagged as his frame began to go numb, but he wasn’t concerned.

“When will he be ready to be trained?” Megatronus questioned calmly as he gazed down at where Optronix suddenly found himself paralyzed in the pool. He couldn’t feel anything, and yet he wasn’t afraid. By Primus, some of his fellows would give an arm and a leg for whatever drug he was high on. 

“Not for quite some time. He needs to grow first.” Grow? He was fully grown.

“What? Shouldn’t he be ready within a few deca-cycles? His frame is fully developed, surely it can’t take that long to heal-” Megatronus trailed off as Optronix lifted his servo, watching in grim fascination as plating turned to goo and fell off his very protoform. He hardly had the strength to do even that as he fought against the calm that overcame him. And just as quickly as he raised his servo, it fell back down with a wet plop.

He didn’t need to look to sense that the rest of his body was falling apart. His optics were starting to flicker…

“It has begun. Soon we will have our little sprite.” The last thing Optronix saw was Pax’s smile which, for once, was gentle and kind.

Then the darkness claimed him, and he knew no more.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #optimus prime #megatron #orion pax #alternate universe #pre war cybertron #megaop #orion and op are separate people yall #i like them being different #whims of the fae au #new au to add to my ever increasing pile #yaaaaaaay #fanfiction

[leafs-lover]

If He's Lucky I'll Let Him Join

Part 5: The moment when

Series Masterlist

A/N: This piece takes place immediately after part four.

Warnings: A little softness, swearing, mentions of drinking, smut 18+, (if you are a minor DO NOT READ), oral sex (female receiving)

Word Count: 4700

You don’t know how it happened.

Fred pulled you in for one final kiss at the door. His hand slid down the outside of your winter coat before finding your hips to pull you back towards him. The kiss even though partially in the hallway open to anybody coming or going was full of passion. His tongue covered in your flavour, licked the inside of your mouth while you gripped his tousled red locks to pull him towards you, closing the gap.

It was hot. So hot you almost walked back inside and closed the door behind you. But you had been there for two days straight, and he had a virtual meeting in a couple hours with some of the trainers and medical staff to go over a plan for his rehab. But it was extremely hard for you to step back.

Reluctantly you pulled away and walked towards the elevator but everything was hazy, the kiss fogging your brain. You heard the elevator ding and when the doors open you were met with a man, a plain black mask disguising most of his face. Even with the mask you immediately recognize the dark brown eyes and hair curling out under his hat. “Hey Auston,” you smile stepping in only to be greeted by a big black and white pile of floof jumping on you.

Ignoring his greeting you immediately bend down to your knees to pet the bernadoodle in front of you. “Oh aren’t you just the cutest,” you say, in your puppy voice, “Felix,” you add in noticing the name on the collar tag. Pulling your mask down slightly he licks up your face causing you to laugh almost knocking you over.

“Ugh,” you laugh turning so the next lick is on your cheek. “Normally I expect dinner first Felix,” you joke.

“Sorry, manners aren’t his strong suit,” Auston laughs, helping you back to your feet.

“How did I forget you have the cutest fluff ball ever?” you practically ignore Auston most of your attention on the energetic pup in front of you. Bending over to keep petting Felix, he sits in front of you constantly giving you paws, big black eyes eagerly smiling up at you.

“You never spend time at my place,” Auston chuckles. “We were actually just going to go for a walk, want to join us?”

You don’t even think you considered it, just completely distracted by the dog. How could you say no to his big black beady eyes and wagging tail? So you nodded and walked off the elevator while he led you to a nearby park. You were there for twenty minutes or so while Auston threw the ball and you eagerly gave Felix pets every time he returned it. Returning back to his building he asked if you wanted to come up for a drink and you agreed.

You remember him offering you wine before putting on the office. You started lying in the corner of the “L” shaped couch, with your head on his shoulder during the first two episodes. You descended into a comfortable conversation barely even paying attention to the show that plays in the background. He told you about growing up in Scottsdale, trying to become a hockey player while living in a desert.

You told him about your time in school, what inspired you to be a teacher. You talked about your families, him showing you pictures of his two sisters and sharing stories. It was fun seeing this side of him, getting to know him.

It’s not like you haven’t spent time with him over the past few months, you had hours together. Countless dinners with him, even fallen asleep beside him a time or two, but every time Fred was there with you. You only see him when either you or Fred asks about inviting him over. Over half your time with Fred is with Auston but you still have time without him.

Some nights after dinner Fred would do the dishes while Auston would lead you down the hall to his room. He would normally only give you a 15-20 minute head start, but most of that time you didn't spend talking.

This is the first time it’s just the two of you, no Fred. Not that you hadn’t seen Fred earlier, you still had some of his cum in your hair, and you could feel the burn of his beard between your legs.

You are really enjoying this side of him. It feels good, easy. But that was two hours ago. You have no idea how you ended up here.

On his couch.

Wearing his sweater.

Your leggings long gone.

Hands digging into your hips, tongue licking along your thigh.

Your hands anchored tightly into his locks, soft moans tumbling from your lips.

“This is nice,” he runs his hand over the navy lace fabric barely covering your core, “don’t think I’ve seen it before.”

“It’s new, came in a few days ago,” you gasp as his thick fingers dance over the cloth protecting your heat, forcing your head to fall back further and your hips to arch up. His fingers trail to your hip bone finding the early colours of a bruise, the bruises his friend left mere hours ago.

“Pretty,” he hums spreading your legs apart ignoring the marks on your body. He licks his lips slightly staring between your legs, fingers dancing along the lace.

“Some hockey player kept ripping my underwear had to get new ones,” you murmur. Auston chuckles in response, knowing that you are talking about him.

“’I’ll buy you a new pair,” he leans down placing some soft kisses on the inside of your thighs. With each caress of your most sensitive spot the desire pooling in your stomach only increased.

“Three,” you moan when his mouth presses the fabric into your clit, tongue gently flicking into it. Pulling back slightly he drags the fabric down your thighs with his teeth. “You’ve ripped three.”

Your hands tighten their grasp as he peppers kisses over your pubic bone. He nips the skin in the exact spot Fred did, causing some curse words to tumble from your lips. “I’ll buy you five just so I’m ahead of the count,” he chuckles the lace landing on the floor.

With a quick wink he drops his head back down, spreading your legs to showcase your glistening cunt. He licks his lips and wraps his mouth around your clit. You gasp and wince slightly, still sensitive from the time Fred spent down there mere hours ago. But that doesn’t stop him; instead it encourages him to press in further digging into your hips harder.

“God you taste so good,” he mumbles, flicking his tongue in and out. “Sweet as honey princess,” he adds, and you feel your walls flutter as the pet name rolls off his tongue.

“Aus,” you moan, barely audible, but he definitely heard sucking harder on your clit. Bucking your hips into his face-you feel him smirk against you. He encourages you, gently rolling your hips to bring you closer. The low burning in your gut slowly begins to bubble up. Legs clamp around his head, locking him against your heat.

Your legs tremble and incoherent sounds fall from your lips. Your moans are getting louder and louder, you tug harder on his dark brown curls. Skin is hot, burning into his lips. He groans into your heat, the feeling vibrating through your core and up your spine.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whine while his tongue continues to flick inside you. Over the past few weeks he has become very good at reading your body, recognizing the telltale signs of your orgasm sometimes before you do. He groans in response, pulling your body down, face smothered by your thighs.

“Fuck,” your hip arches up grinding further into his face. You begin to chant “Aus,” the second syllable getting lost in your pleasure. Euphoria floods your veins, your body tingles while little fires ignite throughout your entire body. The man between your legs doesn’t let up working you through your high, groaning while your juices spill onto his tongue.

“Fuck y/n,” Auston coos, slowly pulling his head away from your dripping heat. “You’re phenomenal.”

Crawling up your body he slides his tongue in your mouth, your body still in a post orgasmic haze. You can taste yourself on his tongue while his body presses against yours. Slowly your fog lifts and you deepen the kiss, moaning slightly when you feel his erection press against your thigh.

His large hand slides under your sweater, easily engulfing your breast in his large palm. Pulling the cup down he pinches your nipple smirking when you wince. But he has no idea the damage his friend left behind.

His tongue finds your neck, licking from your collarbone to your ear lobe. Pulling your skin through his teeth your entire body gets hot, sweat building in the valley of your breasts. Lips trail along your jaw then down your neck-leaving open mouthed kissed onto your skin. The feeling of his growing bulge against your dripping centre makes you moan again.

“Aus,” you barely manage a coherent thought as your sweater is pulled from your body leaving you in just a bra. He tosses his sweater aside, it landing somewhere amongst the clothes scattered on his floor.

“I like when you call me that,” he purrs in your ear.

“Take me to your bedroom,” you try to sound firm but it comes out as more of a desperate plea. Within seconds his feet hit the floor and he pulls you over his shoulder. Making his way through the living room and down his hall his large hand strokes over the back of your thigh.

You faintly hear Felix’s claws click against his wood floors. But when he brings a hand up placing a firm slap on your ass the sound fades, only able to focus on the burn of your skin. His hand soothes your bottom, before delivering another blow hitting the same spot.

“Auston,” you scold. With the back of his heel you hear his bedroom door slam shut, followed by a whimper from the pup on the other side. Your heart breaks a little for him but it doesn’t last long.

“Please you expect me to believe Fred wasn’t doing this to you a few hours ago,” he throws you onto the bed. Your eyes go wide as he pulls his shirt off tossing it towards the hamper, it landing a few feet short.

“You think I didn’t recognize the fucked-out look plastered on your face when you stepped into the elevator. Or that I don’t taste him on the inside of your thighs?” Before you can process his words his track pants are being shoved down his legs and he steps out them. Your eyes rake over his body, tattooed arm, broad shoulders and a firm rock hard chest. His long and deliciously thick cock springs free, slapping against his stomach. The swollen, flushed, pink tip oozing pearly white droplets of precum.

He quickly presses his body against yours, fingers tracing over the purple and blue marks that litter your hips. His fingers slowly follow the trail up your body, through the valley of your breast to your collar bone. His fingers work in the opposite direction of the trail Fred’s mouth left earlier in the day.

“You two have fun,” he asks sucking on your collarbone. Your back arches and he pops open your bra throwing it onto the floor. His mouth continues to press soft wet kisses over every bruise. You would expect some pain as he presses against the marks, but his touch is soft; featherlike, slowly drawing over the purple and blue. It’s almost soothing how his cold tongue caresses your sensitive skin.

That is until he finds your breast that Fred spent a lot of time on, sucking almost aggressively. You warned Fred a few times but he didn’t let up, instead sucking harder. He slowly dragged your nipple through his teeth; even nipping at the skin. At some point your entire breast became fully bruised but Fred still didn’t stop. Even when his thick dick was dragging in and out of your walls his mouth was still attached to your breast.

“I asked you a question princess,” Auston hums, nipping the skin around your nipple.

“Fuck,” you cry out feeling a tear hit the corner of your eye.

“You have fun with Fred earlier,” he asks more direct this time.

“Yes,” you hiss when he brings a thumb to press into your breast, swirling it on the bruises surrounding your nipple.

“Yeah, what did you guys do,” he muses pressing his throbbing erection against your hip. “Hmm princess. Did he use his tongue on you?”

Unable to focus, two of his large fingers dance over your folds. He gently plays with the opening, soaking up the juices that have begun to coat his digits. His tongue slowly draws up the valley of your breast and he sinks his teeth into your collarbone.

“He use his fingers to open you up?” his digits grazing over your clit with every swoop.

Your moans become incoherent; a mix of curse words and grunts. He slowly rolls on top of you, resting on his elbows, hands gripping your hair while his tip pokes at your entrance. “He make you feel this good baby?” slowly his tip begins to spread open your folds while he slides in.

“He stretch you like I do?” he bottoms out. Hips hitting hips, his length pressing into what feels like your stomach. “He fuck you like I do princess?” he pulls his hips back and slams back in, his face centimetres from yours. “Did your heat flutter around him with every thrust?”

Barely able to function you tightly grip his chain and pull his face closer to yours. Trying to bring his lips to yours, he skirts around, lips finding the shell of your ear.

“God I’ve wanted this for so long,” his pace increases while your hips roll up towards his. He drags his cock in and out of your soaking pussy, the sound from between your legs is absolutely disgusting but you love it. “I have wanted to fuck you away from him. Fuck you as much as I want, as fast or slow as I want, as many times as I want without Fred cutting in for his turn.”

Your mind is swirling with his admission. But you can barely focus or process it when he harshly thrusts in again. “Wanted to wrap my hand around your throat,” he brings his hand up resting it against your trachea. “Have you under me gasping for air with each thrust.”

“Aus,” you whimper as he begins to tighten his grip. Slowly air begins to leave your lungs, “remember the word princess?” You only have the strength to muster a slight nod. “I need to hear you say it,” he completely stops thrusting and eases his grip on your throat. His dick still seethed inside you, filling you until you almost overflow, but he remains still.

“Yellow,” you manage to croak. With a devilish grin his hips begin to rock in and out of you again his hand gripping your throat restricting the air.

“You’re such a good girl for me Y/N,” he mumbles.

After your weekend with Fred you didn’t think you can handle anymore. Your sensitivity makes it easy for your orgasm to come rolling through, and unexpectedly wash over you. You’re entire body jolts as he continues his long hard thrusts mumbling filth in your ear.

Coming down from your high he doesn’t stop, instead he picks up his pace. Headboard is rattling against the wall; your whimpers are getting louder.

“Aus, I need a minute,” you manage to choke out around his tightening grip on your hand.

“You need a minute you say the word, otherwise I’m gonna keep going,” he gives you a painful thrust, your head hitting the headboard. “Because I know you always want a minute,” he tightens his grip further restricting your airway, “but you don’t need it. In seconds you’re going to be crying out for me to hit you harder, faster. You just gotta wait for it princess.”

Your mouth opens into a silent O and your nails find the back of his neck, tugging on the hair. His dark eyes blown with fire burn down at you. His lips begin to curl when he sees your face change, pleasure taking over and eagerly seeking for your next release.

“There you go baby,” he smirks sensing your shift.

The hand on your throat is barely letting air through, but there is something about him saying the word baby that causes your body to tingle. He has never called you that before, always your name or princess. Fred calls you baby.

You would expect it to feel wrong, that guilt would wash over you thinking of Fred. Peering up into his eyes, while brown like Fred’s, Auston’s are much darker. You expect that to be the moment you are flooded with remorse, the weight of what you’ve done. Instead he is staring at you through hooded lenses, clouded with lust and it spurs you on.

You’re panting Auston’s name while your chest heaves, lungs still deprived of oxygen. Rolling your hips one leg wraps around his large muscular back and your heel digs in to hold him close to you.

Your pussy is swollen; it’s taken a beating this weekend you didn’t think it could handle. But here you are crying out for him to hit you faster, and of course he eagerly agrees. Your nails are firmly anchored into his skin, your other hand tangled around his chain pulling his face to yours.

His lips hover near your ear and he mumbles praise and filth to you. Auston has never been big on the dirty talk when it’s just the two of you. Once Fred is in the room the words tumble from his lips like sand in a desert, but when it’s just the two of you he is more reserved.

But not today.

Strings of filth are pouring out and you love it. His cock driving against your g-spot, hand cutting off your air supply and a vile tongue spewing venom in your ear. It all is becoming too much. And he knows it.

“Freddie make you cum this much?”

“He make you cum this hard?”

“He make you feel this good?”

“Fuck Princess, cum on my cock once more”

“Coat it in your juices”

Your ears ring and you don’t hear another word he says, but his warm breath indicates he is still talking to you. Your moan turns into a scream and with a final harsh thrusts euphoria floods you, your vision going white. Little shockwaves course through your body as you stop bucking your hips to meet his, your grip loosening on his chain and neck.

Still revelling in your post orgasmic haze, you feel him get sloppier as his climax draws closer. Breathing getting heavier and with a loud grunt he pulls out. Ropes of sticky white warmth coating your stomach. He pumps himself until he is dry, falling onto the bed beside you.

Your body is hot and clammy. Auston slowly draws a finger up and down your forearm as your chests heaves. Slowly you turn to look at him, sweat drenching the roots of his hair. He smiles when met with your face and hesitantly leans down. Millimetres separate your faces, slowly the gap closing. You take it upon yourself to pull his face down. You can taste the salt on his lips, his mustache tickling over your upper lip. “You need to trim this,” you laugh running your thumb over it.

“I like it,” he chuckles, placing another soft kiss on your lips. “Let’s go shower.”

“Ugh I can’t,” you groan knowing your knees will buckle if you try to stand.

“My shower has a bench you can sit on for a bit,” he presses his lips to your again. “But we need to clean this up,” he eyes down to the mess on your stomach. He is right, but still neither of you move; needing a few more minutes.

“You know you can,” you trail off slightly thinking over your thoughts but also recapturing your breath, “you don’t have to pull out.”

The feeling of cum inside you is relatively new, having felt it for the first time a year ago. The first time when you and Fred foregone a condom you were so infatuated with the thought of Auston, imagining his body on yours, it just slipped from your lips. You weren’t even sure if you meant it. But once you felt Fred spill inside you, sticky warmth dripping from your cunt and down your thighs, you couldn’t imagine it any other way.

The thought of it alone makes you wet. But one thing you have loved even more is when Fred’s cum is dripping from your slick, sometimes he will bring his fingers in. With a few thrusts the warmth is spilling out around his digits and he’ll bring them to your mouth for you to lick clean.

It’s like magic.

And you’d be lying if you hadn’t thought of what it would feel like to be full of both men. So much your walls are unable to hold it in, just a mixture of the three of you spilling out.

“Oh um,” his eyes dart around your face. His tone is soft and nervous before he continues, “we never talked about it, so I figured I should. That first time was…I uh…I didn’t mean to the first time. Just really in the moment, and you were so shocked when it happened. I actually felt like shit for not using a condom that night, let alone not pulling out. When the second time came around I figured I should at least pull out.”

“I mean Fred -” you start, but you don’t want to bring sex with him into this moment. “I work around kids so I am very good at birth control,” you laugh slightly. “It’s 100% your choice obviously. I’m just saying I wouldn’t hate it if you didn’t.”

Auston has a wide smile on his face hearing your revelation, and he brings you down for a sloppy kiss. Pulling away you are almost certain you could fall asleep, whimpering when Auston moves leaving you alone on the cold bed.

A few minutes later he is scooping you up and gently placing you on his shower bench. Leaning your head against the cool tile, steam filling the shower, you watch Auston. He shoots you playful winks and asks if you are okay before finally pulling you to your feet and rubs shampoo in your hair.

Once re-dressed and in his living room you notice it is getting late in the day, the sky beginning to get dark. Felix’s ears perk up and you immediately go to him giving him some pets before you head out for the evening. His tail eagerly slaps against the couch and you don’t stop until he places a few licks on your cheek.

Turning around Auston pulls you into his chest, holding you tight while you listen to the gentle beating of his heart. Grabbing a handful of his sweater you aren’t quite ready to let him go. Tilting your head upwards he smiles down at you. Felix eagerly joins the two of you, jumping on you, bashing against both of your legs. Auston softly brushes the hair from your forehead and stands feet firmly planted staring down at you with soft and tender eyes.

“I had a great time,” he finally whispers, but you get the feeling that isn’t what he wants to say.

“Mmm me too,” you mumbles in agreeance, but you’re not just talking about the sex. He closes the gap and brushes his lips against yours, the kiss starting out soft. It’s not until one of your hands slide up his back that he deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding inside your mouth. Hands snake down your body to your hips, but when he gives your ass a playful squeeze, you pull away laughing.

“Sorry”, he mumbles, but you can tell from the smirk on his face he is lying; it was 100% intentional.

“Think I can get your number,” he asks taking a deep breath. His voice is uneasy; it’s the first time in the months you’ve known him his confidence seems shaken. Before you can even take a breath he continues, “I always see these memes that make me think of you, but I can’t send them to you.”

A light chuckle gets caught in your throat, “right to send memes” you smirk, quirking an eyebrow to him. Pursed lips you gaze over his face for a few seconds, you can see his is nervous while he awaits your response. With a slight nod you hold your hand out “phone.”

Quickly he is in his pocket, unlocking the device and handing it to you. Putting your digits in you rise to your tippy toes and place a soft kiss to his cheek. “What time do you have to be up tomorrow,” he asks checking his phone, before putting it away. “If it’s not too early you could stay over,” he trails off at the end, his words coming out almost a whisper.

“I actually uh don’t,” you stutter.

“Oh is it a holiday of some kind?”

“Uh no…Long story but I don’t have a job right now, so I don’t have to be up in the morning.”

“You wanna talk –“

“Nope I do not,” you quickly cut him off, not wanting to relive it. “But I can stay,” you smile and he presses his lips back to yours.

“Felix is very excited,” he says and you laugh hearing the pup come up beside you with one of his squeaky toys. Pulling away you bend down to take his toy dinosaur from his mouth and throw it to the other side of the room for him to chase.

“Wait, what do you do with him when you’re on the road?”

“Steph, one of the guys’ girlfriends watches him.”

“Let me watch him,” you lean in to kiss his nose and he places a lick on your cheek.

“Well Fred thinks he’ll be out for a couple weeks. I’ll probably see if he can watch him,” Auston explains.

“Seriously? Why does Fred get to watch Felix,” you groan. Felix’s ears perk up when you say Fred’s name and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t slightly jealous he knows Fred’s name but not yours yet. You scratch his face, rubbing behind his big floppy ears while Felix leans into the pets slightly.

“He’s his stepdad,” Auston explains with a light laugh. “And I didn’t have your number until now, I couldn’t ask you.”

“Okay but now you do,” you pout as Felix spins in excited circles before falling to the floor for you to rub his belly.

“When Fred gets back to playing I’ll get you to watch him ‘kay”

“We would have so much fun eh Felix, get a million w-a-l-k ‘s a day” you spell the letters out so Felix doesn’t get excited. “So many treats and toys. I’m gonna be your favourite person in the world,” you say in your high pitched puppy voice while you eagerly rub his belly. His tail is slapping against the floor and you can hear Auston laughing and saying something, but you ignore it focusing your attention on the fourteen month old puppy that has captured your heart.

#if he's lucky i'll let him join #auston matthews fic #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews smut #auston matthews #fred andersen smut #freddie andersen fic #freddie andersen x reader #freddie andersen smut #freddie andersen #frederik andersen x reader #frederik andersen #frederik andersen smut #fred andersen #frederik andersen fic #nhl x reader #nhl smut #nhl fic #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs smut #felix matthews #Felix the one true star

[anayaahwrites]

KOT Ficlet #5 (Momoya Natsu/ Yoshinaga Atsumu)

When the lights start flashing like a photo booth (And the stars exploding, we'll be fireproof.)

Warning: Themes of underage drinking and implied sexual content.

Natsu roughly based on this art by @sasukeslove

A small AU on MomoYoshi's first meeting:

...

Natsu is six when he learns about Angels.

He’s perched on mama’s lap, carrying a new storybook with tiny hands and slowly pronouncing all the words. Her proud smile encourages him to read the larger words too, the ones he’d avoid out of embarrassment—something about a pro-fe-cky and a pro-mice that He exists up there somewhere, over the pillowy clouds watching down on them.

Mama tucks him in that night and tells Natsu to close his eyes and pray because Angels only come to good boys.

He’s ten when it all sounds like bullshit to him.

Over the years, Mom’s rosy smile had withered into a fatigued sigh, a cry for help to the God that never answers no matter how much they pray. Dad was more a guest than a resident. He came around once in a while to eat lunch—with a taut smile plastered eerily over his smooth features—and swiftly vanish to not return in that week .

They’ve stopped waiting for him and Natsu stops asking questions.

He’s thirteen when he meets Sei, a child around his age, except so much more charming and calm and composed for someone that carried half the same set of genes Natsu had. He learns of his father’s betrayal and is honestly shocked at his own lack of surprise. Still, he questions his God and why why why would He let mom’s heart shatter like that?

Sei is quick to laugh and tell him that God doesn’t exist and mom is just a victim to their monster of a father.

So he goes home that day to his outraged mother, hair coloured like glittery Christmas tinsel and sapphire lenses replacing his usual shade of honey brown. She snaps at the sight, yelling at him till her throat closes up, till nothing but a harsh sob escapes her and he lets her. They both had to cope somehow.

By the fall of his fourteenth year, he gets pierced four times and stops talking to his mother almost completely.

To hell with dad. To hell with God.

Natsu is fifteen, and he doesn’t care about anything anymore.

He’s fifteen and quickly realising from his daily job as a guitarist in the club that girls aren't attractive no matter how much they flock around him. He still humours them sometimes, a touch here, a kiss there since the pay is good enough for him to add some extra service on his part.

Mom plies herself with work as often as possible, to douse her misery in the decayed scent of piled papers and clunking keyboards. She leaves Natsu to deal with everything else on his own like the obedient son he is, letting him go like dad left her.

Natsu is alright, though. He’s done this far longer than she knows.

He stops reaching out to her, stops talking to someone up in the skies, settling instead to live a tranquil life in the shadows, under the dependable shade of music. He hates people. He hates the world.

Natsu is basking in the warmth of another uneventful day in the club, when in walks a boy out of fucking nowhere and his entire world tips on its axis.

The boy takes shaky, wary steps as if he were balancing on a trapeze. Dark black bangs like thick black rain spill over the side of his face, half covering wide brown eyes. Splotches of pink and porcelain white stick out where his sweater ends and skin begins. He’s small and delicate and beautiful, Natsu’s heart skips a beat. Or two. Or maybe three.

And why should he lie? Natsu has seen beautiful, quite a few varieties of it too. But this…this was different. This was unreal.

The boy looks around nervously before he catches something and there’s a spark in those hazel eyes, sharp and electric, a smile tugging at his lips.

Natsu follows his gaze. On the stage lies his own guitar—a pre-performance habit for people to know he was next. He took great pride because this itself garnered more clusters than anyone in the entire house.

Natsu smiles. So he was a fan.

He downs the customary shot of vodka, waving at the people before hopping on stage and wrapping the sling around his neck. He scours the audience for a familiar face and it doesn’t take a lot, to spot a splatter of ink black in the crowd, batting eager eyelids at him. The smaller boy realises the attention on him and glances behind to confirm his suspicion.

By the time he swings around, eyes blown wide in a stare, Natsu plays the first chord.

In an instant, his expression shifts to a mix of awe and interest, a silent worship and a loud cheer compiled in one small, thin body. He claps more than anyone else in the room, beaming like a floodlight by the time Natsu finishes.

It was nothing strange. He played among cheers every day but none felt as satisfying with this voice hooting and clearly standing out from his regular gang of squealing girls. He throws his head back laughing back stage when no one is there to see.

By the time Natsu gets out on the floor again, a little more thrilled for the night and dressed in something less flashy, he’s gone. He screws his lips in displeasure and asks his friend to make him something stronger than the usual.

This happens more nights than not, and it was frustrating him.

The moment Angel boy—as he’s dubbed him, steps in through the door, Natsu traces his every move and quickly registers a pattern. He only comes around on days the club was the busiest—specifically during Natsu’s performance, talks to no one and leaves before he has the chance to even ask a name.

Not that Natsu was interested in him or anything. He was just curious, is all—why this boy looked like a starved pet every time he saw him on stage and if he really smelled like soft winter blankets and warm fireplaces, all angelic and pure.

Okay, so maybe he was a little interested.

Months pass like that.

The mid-November chill comes with its blistering snowstorms and the club is jam packed—winters were some of their busiest months—and Natsu’s up to perform. Instead of preparing, he watches the door resolutely from the bar, tapping impatiently at the table.

As routine, it barely opens a crack, and he sees a sliver of ebony snaking it’s way through the crowd. The boy stands on his tippy-toes which don’t give him much of a view, so he does these tiny jumps—that are so adorable, for a second Natsu forgets his own name—and scowls when he notices no guitar on stage.

He checks the time, the stage and then scans the crowd. The anticipation throbs through Natsu as he follows his eyes cross the room in slow motion, dragging dragging until they eventually land on him. Everything stills—the thundering music, the singing and all he can hear is the low thump of veins against his skin.

It’s over in a flash.

“That your Angel boy?” The bartender gestures at the figure turning tail and running, drying the pad on his prized work station. He skillfully pours two coloured liquids into an oddly shaped glass and passes it over the counter to him.

Natsu hums, swirling the absinthe stained drink in hand, eyeing the smaller boy gasp as a couple slams against the door, clearly piss drunk with her suspended over his thighs and gyrating her hips into the man.

“Hey, chief.”

“Hm?”

“You think I can get off early tonight?”

The man raises an eyebrow. “Like when?”

“Like now.” Natsu answers, never letting his gaze falter from the head full of black hair slowly receding through the crowd, horrified.

The man guffaws, lifting a glass of water—since he can’t drink on duty—and clinking it with Natsu’s.

“Must be fuckin’ Christmas if you’re taking interest in anyone, so I’ll let this one pass. Don’t scare him off now. He already looks like a trembling lamb.”

Natsu knocks back the contents, swallowing the liquid till it numbs his entire mouth and smirks.

“I’ll try.”

So he follows the boy. Hands are immediately all over him from faces he recognises in passing—a girl he once kissed, someone that made him cake, but he pushes them off.

His boy of interest forces the hood of his shirt up all the way, and glances behind him once before increasing his pace. Maybe the lights are really getting to him and maybe Natsu is a little tipsy when he reaches out to grab his hand.

The boy flips around to lock eyes frantically, as if a ghost had seized him.

“Hey.” Natsu musters his sweetest smile.

“Hi..” The boy replies.

And oh, his voice. It’s sugary sweet and so so soft like—like actual rolls of smooth and silky cotton had woven them. He blushes fiercely under Natsu’s relentless gaze and stares where their hands were connected in a tight grip as if it burned holes through him.

Natsu frowns. “Don’t run.”

The boy’s gaze shoots up, and he’s pulling away.

“I-I’m sorry I really h-have to go—”

“It’s my birthday.” Goddamn, he must be really wasted to admit that. Now that he thinks about it, what did he just drink?

Twentieth November, the day he was born and incidentally also the day he found his father’s tongue down another woman’s throat, holding a child over his shoulder.

“Oh,” The boy stops, pursing his lips and letting the hood go all the way down before flashing easily one of the most ethereal smiles Natsu has ever seen.

“Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” he replies awkwardly. “It’s not going really well.”

“No?”

Natsu nods. “It’s nothing different.”

“You want it to be special?”

The buzz in his nerves practically screamed a yes to that—he wanted something to remember, to bury the horrible memories he associated with this day, for the days he wished he was never born in the first place. He wanted to fit it all in this one boy in one night, this angel he didn’t even know, to free him from himself.

Natsu tightens his grip. “Dance with me?”

Oh boy, the alcohol was talking.

Angel boy looks at Natsu with wide doe eyes, peers back at their hands and gulps. Natsu frowns and releases his hold. He was drunk, probably a little more than he’d admit to, but he didn’t want to pressurize anyone—not when this boy already looked so out of his element, a beige hoodie and skinny jeans in a club full of scantily clad folk.

But he reverses the roles, grabbing Natsu by the fingers so delicately, he releases a soft hum of satisfaction. He rubs fingers between his own, feeling the brush of calloused fingertips on them. It reminds him of mom’s soft chest rising and falling when she slept beside him because he was her ‘perfect little angel’ and made him feel safe.

He misses it. Misses being safe. Misses being loved.

“Okay,” the boy mumbles, peering from under his natural hood of hair with a light smile. “Okay. Let’s dance.”

Natsu doesn’t really know what he’s doing anymore. The lights blink and they’re suddenly in stop motion. It tricks his brain into thinking of them as pictures trapped some place in his brain forever. So he stares and stares and captures the blush spreading like wildfire across the boy’s face, a smile widening in tandem with the soft beats.

They’re two faces among a thousand on a random winter night. The music isn’t his type nor is his attire anything to be proud of. But this boy. Holy heavens, if he isn’t the prettiest thing ever then the stars should be ashamed because damn, he’d beat them even on a bad day.

His hair sways—a steady swing of left right left right and a pleasant smile sits snug on his features like that’s where they belonged, that’s where they had always belonged and Natsu closes his eyes when their hands meet again.

This is perfect.

It’s when the music stills that they transition to a slower lull of movement, and the blaze of liquor in his blood emboldens him into yanking the boy a little closer. He lets him fall with a small plop on his chest and laughs when he rubs his nose, scowling.

“Why do you never wait back?” He asks, exhaling at the warmth the boy’s presence brings. Natsu puts his hand around his waist and he swears, it was like he wasn’t human, like someone had sculpted him out of clay, moulded to near perfection. And maybe he’s treading into dangerous waters, but his mouth had a mind of its own and there’s nothing he could do to stop it.

“I always look for you after I’m done but you’re never here.”

Pair of hazelnut eyes sheepishly peer at him.

“I’m sorry. I’m just.… not good at socializing.”

“So you say,” Natsu laughs, “But you’re doing better than me.”

“No way!”

“Yes way.”

“You have to be kidding me you’re so cool—and and so beautiful I really cannot—since the beginning I haven’t been able to take my eyes off—”

He squeaks when he's dragged closer by the small of his back. Their eyes meet. Natsu sees flashes of every happy moment of his life mirrored in them; His first recital, mom’s naturally loud laugh, the first time he played the guitar. They reach into Natsu’s soul and drag out his joy like the reel of a kite.

“I thought you were an angel,” he chuckles so close, he feels the boy shiver against his cheek. “I still do. Everyone here calls you Angel boy. Score a drink from them with that name sometime. I’m sure they’ll oblige you.”

“Angel? I—” He breathes a giggle, twisting silver strands with his fingers. “If there’s any angel here, it’s you.”

But this is fake, he wants to say. It’s fake, artificial, made of desperation because he never wants to look into the mirror and see his father’s face staring back at him. He won’t be him. He won’t.

“Atsumu,” he says. “My name is Atsumu.”

“Atsumu.” Natsu repeats in his head till it rolls naturally over his tongue. Like Atsu meaning heat and summer and everything bright and cheery.

Natsu purposefully lingers near his ear, to breathe his name in the air, smiling, content.

“ ‘Tsumu. It’s cute,” he hums. “You’re cute.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Definitely.” He chuckles.

Atsumu whispers, low and uneasy. “C-can I ask you something?”

“Mhmm.” At this point, his voice gave him a greater high than the drink he had downed fifteen minutes ago. Or was it an hour? He couldn’t really tell and decided very quickly he didn’t care, anyway.

“Why don’t you.. come to school?”

Natsu’s eyes open a crack to glimpse at the boy who trembles softly under him, as if he were admitting to a crime.

“I—” he continues in alarm, “I swear I’m not a stalker I just—Oh my god please don’t misunderstand me—”

“Calm down.” Natsu shushes, smiling apologetically at the few people around him that had been torn out of their aggressive make-out session as if they weren’t the ones that needed a room. God, if he sees another dick hanging out, he’ll have to bust out the chainsaw in the basement and go wild.

“So,” he leads them to a quieter corner with very few people and lesser eyes their way. “School,” he waves a hand dismissively, “It’s boring. Lots of people. Annoying questions. You know the drill.”

“Right,” he gulps. “Right so, I’m uhh—in your class I don’t think you noticed and I’m from an instrument club and someone asked us a question. Something about erotic sounds—wait that sounds bad—not erotic erotic but.…Ah, I’m bad at explaining.”

Natsu doesn’t keep back the dreamy giggle that leaves him, swaying lightly to the music. He’s exactly as he imagined—hell, even his name was spot on—all warm and giggly and fluttery.

“I’m still listening,” Natsu smiles. “Go on.”

Atsumu scrunches his nose and continues. “So one of my club seniors—he comes of a little rough but he’s really nice—went to one of my other seniors house who I think he really likes, and her mother told him it’s—I’m sorry am I too confusing?”

“I think I can manage.”

“Okay, so basically, her mother says it’s the pause in between his words and actions. The space that is just…there. And so I was writing about it—because I write everything—and Oka-kun saw my book.”

Natsu scowls. “Oka is annoying like that.”

The boy giggles this time. “Funny. He said you’d say that.”

“It’d be nice if he attempted to change it, then.”

“And so he told me you play music, where you work and that maybe you could do something good for once—I didn’t say that he did—So…” He moves his hand vaguely around them. “Here I am.”

Natsu hums against his head, bringing him to a slower pace as the song changes.

“I’ll have to thank him for that.”

“You’re not..angry?” He says through furrowed brows. “Oka-kun said you would be if you found out.”

He’s certain if Oka showed up here uninvited, Natsu would promptly kick him out. Because Oka is annoying. Atsumu however….

“So? Did you get your answer?” He asks instead.

The smaller boy makes a face, pulling all his features in to make his button nose stand out more than it already does and pout.

Natsu laughs. He’s been doing a lot of that today. Laughing.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Don’t get me wrong! Your performances are splendid and I really can’t get enough of them but the answer…I still haven’t reached a conclusion.”

Natsu plays with the fingers in his hand, shuffling to let them sink into the gap between his. Atsumu stares and responds by shyly tucking his fingers in.

“Want me to help you?” He whispers, tapping the side of Atsumu’s waist with his other hand.

“Can you?” He whispers back.

Can he? Yes. Should he? Probably not.

But what use is logic anyway, when a boy the embodiment of a sunny summer day amid a bitter winter stood enclosed in his arms?

Yeah. To hell with logic.

Natsu sways his hips, raking his free hand through Atsumu’s hair. He releases a pleased sigh when the tiny fingers between his tighten as if it were the only thing anchoring him to reality, which was good. Natsu felt the same, like his sanity was slowly slipping through open fingers.

“Spaces…exist everywhere. In words, in voices, in time…” He draws their joined hands to his mouth, dragging wet lips over porcelain skin. Atsumu shudders, breathing in sharp, shallow exhales.

“These hands..there’s a space in between them too if you look carefully. We’re so close,” fingers tighten around his shirt. “But still never close enough.

He runs a palm down the boy’s face that angles and angles till plush, red lips are within kissing distance. They part and blow warm clouds of air that taste mint and chocolate in his mouth. Natsu smiles. “Space is where there is distance. Space is where there is intimacy. Space is where there is friction. And this exciting gap that keeps us wanting to be closer till not even an atom could squeeze in—” he leans in closer, “—is erotic.”

He backs away while he has the physical capacity to do so, before the alcohol overrides every decision in his head and they end up a tangled mess of limbs in some random hotel room, but Atsumu having none of it.

He pulls Natsu to himself, clutching the pleats of his shirt and tugging him down to his lips. Teeth knock loudly against each other and Natsu hisses lightly, parting to lick the tingle in the tip of his incisor away.

“S-sorry!” Atsumu covers his embarrassment behind shaky hands. Natsu wraps thin fingers under his chin, reeling him in slow and steady and closes the distance. It’s soft, like a snowflake on a tree, virgin snow settling on frozen water and ironically, melts him. It boils and freezes, ignites his soul into a firework of bursting flames. He’s touching, feeling, pulling until every inhale feels like fire in his lungs.

“Closer,” Atsumu murmurs, throwing nimble hands over his shoulder and locking their lips together like puzzle pieces on a gameboard. “Make the space go away.”

It’s chaotic, and it’s magical. Like every star in the galaxy twinkled around them tonight, like every blossoming flower settled wherever Atsumu touched him. He’s drunk on vodka, drunk on happiness, drunk on love.

Closer. Natsu pushes a knee in between his thighs. His mouth hangs open in a silent moan, eyes slowly rolling into the back of his head.

Closer. The hands in his air pull him in for another searing kiss, pressing for entry, to delve deeper, deeper into themselves. Atsumu nibbles lightly on his lip and Natsu lets him bruise him for tonight. To wreck him, destroy him.

Closer.

They settle for a slower casual rhythm when they part to breathe. He keeps them moving on the floor, smiling against a pair of swollen lips.

“School suddenly sounds much more interesting.” He says.

Atsumu squints incredulously. “We can’t do this at school.”

“No?”

“No!”

Natsu shrugs, pecking the tip of the boy’s nose. “Shame.”

“Then you’ll come?” Atsumu bumps his forehead against Natsu’s. “I’ll really see you tomorrow?”

“If you can walk home straight after tonight, then sure.”

Atsumu gasps and slaps him across the back, blushing as they leave the club, hand in hand, away into the wintery night.

Natsu turns sixteen—a little drunk, a lot happy—but he’s sixteen and he can pinpoint this as the day he falls in love even years later.

And every other birthday is insignificant but so much better, spent at home, in the arms of the boy that saved him in just one night, all those years ago.

Mom only ever asks where he’s going and who he’s moving in with while he packs his bags to leave. She frowns when he answers with the widest smile on his face, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“An Angel.”

Ignore the sloppy writing haha. I'm writing this while travelling back home after a god awful six hour exam.

It felt too plotless to post on my ao3 kdkcd—

If you look at the colouring of Natsu I based it on (go give @sasukeslove all the real love), I imagine the art as the morning after when Oka's annoying Natsu and Atsumu walks in through the door (≧▽≦)

#kono oto tomare! #kotedit #kot #ao3 #dailykot #fanfic #kono oto #ficlet #momoyoshi #momoya natsu #atsumu yoshinaga #Spotify

[astrablossom]

Genderbend Obey Me Headcanons/Ideas Including Undateables NSFW

Um obey me fandom where is the genderbend content or futa stuff? Where is it? I guess sometimes you just have to do things on your own.

The art is beautiful but it's so limited 😭 lemme add on to the pile. It's just a scramble of ideas I thought of in a flurry. Feel free to request anything from here.

Sizes

Big tiddie gang would involve Lucifer, Beel, and Diavolo. Satan and Asmodeus are honorary members.

Then we have Mammon who is medium, Belphegor who is slightly on the smaller side (although I'm debating giving her cow tits as a joke), and then Leviathan who has a small chest. But there is nothing wrong with that! Appreciate all sizes.

Solomon I can see as medium and the same for Simeon but slightly edging the C cup border. As for Barbatos I'm stuck between honorary big tiddie or medium.

In The Sheets

Fem Lucifer eating out Fem MC sounds about right. No matter what gender Lucifer will have some authority in the sheets. However I can see Lucifer pegging a Male MC or Belphegor rimming Male MC while milking his cock.

Mammon probably got prettier to be honest. Isn't afraid to eat pussy like there is no tomorrow and knows a thing or two because she has debts to pay. I usually don't like making the character's hair longer in genderbend but Mammon with a ponytail looks good. But then again so does short hair.

Mammon in a playboy bunny costume hits different. Would absolutely get flustered if you're near her. The zipper is directly above her crotch so maybe you can have some fun time later. Just imagine her getting flustered above you as you lick her swollen clit.

Should I maybe write a Stripper AU with Mammon? You as an normal customer and eventually you two go in the back room.

Big tiddie Diavolo remains the same except now with a pussy. I'm cackling as I type this. Can you imagine Fem Diavolo just eating out Fem Lucifer like the finest cuisine in the Devildom? Yes I can.

Diavolo can pick you up like a ragdoll. Will coo about how cute you are in her lap or how great you are when you try to eat her out. The future queen is amazing in the sheets. And so are her thighs.

Beel is still muscular and can bench press you. You can sit on her back while she does workouts. How does it feel having a beautiful girlfriend? I feel Beel is confident in her body but the size difference is iconic. If you got a dick you're practically sliding yourself into a cave (that's a good thing). Very happy when you make her food and you avert your eyes when food lands between her chest. Eats pussy like the champ she is.

Belphegor is still bratty and lazy as ever. If you get easily flustered and she hates humans still she'll probably push you into her chest or worst Lucifer's. I feel she might be more sadistic and tends to trail her fingers around your body. Will make you do all the work but tends to wake you up when she fucks you in your sleep. If you got a vagina be prepared to not be able to walk.

Asmodeus is still lewd as ever and very touchy grabby with you. Asks you to use her chest as a pillow. Complains that her tiddies are too big and asks if you'll hold them for her. A big switch in the bed. She can have you begging for release or she can be underneath you screaming your names to the heavens.

And yes Asmodeus is still pinning for Simeon. Once she tackled Simeon in the hallway and wouldn't let go of her hips. Simeon was rather embarrassed by the encounter and got more flustered when Lucifer broke it up.

Simeon as well is just drop dead gorgeous and when Lucifer sees her again she remembers. Gets extremely annoyed when left with Simeon but not because she doesn't enjoy the company. Simeon is still reserved but those hips don't lie. If alone Lucifer will try to lure the angel into her bedroom. Will introduce Simeon to a whole new world of pleasure.

If Simeon has that "men should be with women and vice versa" mentality she will change her mind after being in the Devildom. I can also see her trying not to moan when in bed. With you she is still very vanilla, however very different when drunk.

Completely embarrassed and horrified when shown a video of her grinding on the future Queen who has such a smug look on her face. When she goes to apologize but Diavolo is smiling and is like “you weren’t apologizing last night my dear”

Leviathan is a tricky one. Would probably be envious of you if you had big tiddies. I'm debating if I should make Levi the big chest otaku but I guess both works fine. If she sees you staring at her sisters too long she'll invite into her room for games. Very sweaty and nervous but will push you down and you see in her eyes how they dilate. She's watched lots of anime so she knows what to do, also a quick learner.

Scissoring sounds great to be honest. But maybe ask her to fuck herself with her tail too, will cum all over her anime sheets.

If you're packing down below she'll hold it with one hand mumbling about how it's not fair and tries her best to please you.

Eat her out while she's playing video games and you'll feel her tail wrapping around you.

Satan would probably lure you into her room and away from her sisters. Once you're in there you are hers. Will absolutely call you kitten and have you fuck her while reading a book with the strongest poker face in history. One time you pissed her off so badly she made you get on your hands and knees and used you as a stool. Belphegor took photos.

Satan fresh out the shower and still wet will move close to you and whisper disgusting things in your ears to get you riled up.

Would also use a strap on but might find a spell to change her sex for a bit to feel the real deal. If you're a dude she might swap sexes with you. Solomon might do this too.

Solomon is very keen on observation and will simply rely on intuition to make you feel good. Under those robes of hers is a body that knows pleasure far too well.

You should've seen her face when Asmodeus did it with her the first time. Asmo introduced her to lots of stuff that day. You wouldn't know it but Solomon has uncontrolled aheago expressions.

Scissoring is a thing for you both. And when you cum you cum hard. Solomon will flick your nub. Managed to convince Levi in a threesome with you both and it was great.

Now let's talk about having both parts. I guess the anime term would be futanari so let us go with that.

Futa Ideas

Diavolo maybe convincing that her cock does not bite and you suck her off the best you can. I find it a bit funny if she fucks a Male MC and is moaning about breeding him and he's like he can't get pregnant. And then Diavolo gives him a shit eating grin.

In the anime Interspecies Reviewers the angel had both parts so maybe Simeon has both parts? I can see this for normal Simeon as well. Covers her mouth if you suck her dick and lets out a very loud and lewd moan.

If Asmo manages to fuck her she'll whisper in her ears that it's okay as she takes Simeon's virginity. This could work with normal Simeon as well.

Barbatos can probably take Diavolo in one go if she's needy but for some reason no one can make Diavolo cum like Barbatos can. When she slides into Barbatos from behind she'll finger Diavolo ass as she plows down. Her size is very impressive for her overall body.

I would really like to write something with a sex change focusing on Satan. If Satan is fucking you with your own dick she might say "what's it like being fucked by your own dick?"

Mammon getting extremely turned on as you rub your dicks together. Will probably face fuck you upside down on the bed and bottoms out in your throat.

Belphegor will use you as a cockwarmer.

Beelzebub would be shocked if can take her but will get extremely happy if you decorate her with whipped cream and cherries.

Leviathan and Belphegor's sex drives increase a bit and they often are masturbating when they aren't busy. I have a few ideas concerning them.

Lucifer would probably face fuck you. And would probably coax Simeon into face fucking her when given the chance.

That's all I got! If you have any ideas concerning genderbend or request feel free to drop some in the ask.

And feel free to write stuff based off these headcanons, no one is stopping you lol.

Stay safe!

#shall we date obey me #shall we date? obey me #obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me diavolo #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me simeon #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me satan #obey me smut #obey me genderbend #obey me mc #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #ao3 smut #astrablossom writes #obey me reader insert #obey me fandom

[samingtonwilson]

Apartment 8C - Chapter 1

Telling the Kids About Your Separation

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: college au. you and bucky are the closest of friends, the most functional of roommates, and… exes. but just because it didn’t work out romantically doesn’t mean he has to move out! it’s not like he’s so deeply in love that he can barely breathe. totally not in love. at all. not even a little. maybe. 

Pairing: bucky x reader

Warnings: language

A/N: SHE’S BACK, LADIES. the only tag list i’m using is the permanent one, nothing specifically for this series sorry!

“You guys said it wouldn’t last…” 

Natasha looks between the two of you. Steve’s beer is at his lips but he doesn’t take a sip. Wanda’s fingers pause in the bowl of popcorn she’s placed in her lap. Only Sam has a visibly emotional reaction. 

He’s on the verge of bursting— maybe in frustration as the two of you are blocking the television, maybe in laughter. 

It doesn’t help that you’ve hidden your hands behind your back. Nor does it help that you and Bucky are both grinning like giddy idiots while you stare at your friends who now sit with pin-straight postures on the sectional in your living room.

“And you were right!” you shout once several awkward beats have passed. 

There is a loud POP! when you bring your hands forward to twist the bottom of a party popper, iridescent confetti falling over the coffee table and tangling itself in Natasha’s hair, and a triple air horn sound effect cuts through the silence when Bucky opens the app on his phone. 

The two of you are laughing and high-fiving one another, but the four before you continue staring. 

That is, until longsuffering Sam— fingers pressed into his temples— speaks. “You called us over here to tell us you broke up?” 

Bucky shrugs and takes the empty party popper from you. He turns it over and shakes it, disappointed when more confetti doesn’t fall out. After all, he’d purchased the ones from Target just for the extra confetti. “We have consciously uncoupled.”

“That term refers to divorce,” Wanda says as she picks the confetti out of the popcorn and lets it fall to the floor. When she looks up, her expression is equal parts exasperation and amusement. “And, as far as I know, you two were never married.” 

Natasha, fingers combing through her hair, frowns. “I actually forgot you were even dating.”

“Yeah, so did she,” Bucky says as he jabs his elbow into your ribs with a snort. “We didn’t want you guys finding out from somewhere else.” 

“Like where?” Sam asks. He scoots over to let you sit beside him, eyes narrowed at Bucky who falls into his usual spot— the worn barcalounger you’d begged him not to bring when he moved in. “You think they’d send out a campus-wide alert that you two broke up? Or that E! News would be reporting it after they talk about whichever Kardashian is having another baby?” 

That steals Wanda’s attention from the popcorn bowl. “Speaking of, how is one of them always pregnant?” 

There’s a fair amount of indistinct chatter to answer Wanda’s question, but it is all loudly interrupted with a simple: “Does this mean Bucky is moving out?” 

It seems that everyone turns to look at Steve simultaneously. Squeaks of leather as you all shift around, the click of a bowl being placed on the wooden table. 

He understands the question in all of your gazes, and shrugs with a sigh of defeat. “They’re probably just genetically very fertile— Kris has had, like, eighteen children herself. Now, does Bucky have to find a place?” 

Then all eyes slide to you. Your eyebrows furrow and your nose wrinkles. The absolute picture of disbelief. It has Bucky fighting a smile. “Why would he need to do that?” 

“Living with an ex is hard,” Sam replies. He sets his hand on yours and gives your fingers a light squeeze. It’s meant to be comforting, but it isn’t necessary. “It’d make sense if you couldn’t—”

“Bucky moved in a while before we started dating,” you tell them, each word said in an imploring tone. “He still has his bedroom, I still have mine. Besides, we didn’t break-up because we can’t stand being around each other.” 

“Then why did you break-up?” 

The inquiry is directed at Bucky, who everyone shifts to face. The piercing attention draws a light blush over the bridge of his nose and at the highpoints of his cheeks. You hold back a soft laugh. “We’re just better as friends. The romantic compatibility wasn’t there.” 

“Romantic compatibility, conscious uncoupling,” Natasha repeats with a surprised laugh. “Does this man have a Goop membership, or something?” 

Despite your own laughter, you nod at Bucky. “He’s right, though. It just— Something was missing.” 

As inarticulate as it is, it’s the truth. There was nothing wrong with your relationship, at least at first glance. You kissed each other hello— when you remembered— and you kissed each other goodbye— when you remembered. 

But you often forgot— you usually forgot. Which might be explanation enough as to why the two of you didn’t last. 

— 

“Was the sex bad?” 

You nearly choke on the sip of wine you’d taken. Glancing at the boys in the living room to confirm they were blissfully unaware of Wanda in the kitchen, you set your glass onto the counter and narrow your eyes at her. “You should increase your volume the next time you ask something like that.” 

“It couldn’t have been too bad,” Natasha says from the barstool beside Wanda’s, still frowning. She’d managed to remove every piece of confetti from her hair and it now sits in a small pile next to her glass. “You two weren’t exactly virgins when you met.” 

Your answering smile is sarcastic. “Hilarious. The sex wasn’t bad. He’s— He’s good at it.” 

“Yeah, that was convincing,” Natasha snorts into her glass as she takes a sip. “For his sake, I hope none of us let it slip that Barnes’ dick is trash.” 

“It isn’t trash! Okay.” You wiggle a finger at Wanda. “You. Imagine having sex with Steve.”

Her nose immediately wrinkles, her scowl instantaneous. “Understood. But then why date in the first place?” 

“Remember the night my ‘friends’ from high school were in the city?” 

The smile Natasha wore due to your finger quotes gives way to a deep grimace. “The night that girl with the bad bleach job pranced around here showing her ring off? I wish I could forget.” 

You nod. “All night, she kept telling me someone might be out there for me. That I probably won’t be too late, that some people end up alone and it’s okay. Like I’m tofu and she’s apple pie.” 

“You lost me with that one.”

“Like I’m an acquired taste and she’s universally appealing.” 

You smile when they laugh to themselves, but shake your head seconds later. “I don’t care if I end up alone. I’ll be fine either way. It’s just the insinuation that I’ll fail if I try to find someone. Like it’s prom all over again.” 

“D’you punch her teeth in? Can I punch her teeth in?”

You roll your eyes at Natasha. “I drank my weight in whatever bullshit wine she’s stupid enough to pay for, texted Bucky to pick me up, and fucked him on the couch to make myself feel better.” 

Her features twist in disgust. “The couch we all sit on?”

— 

While Sam yells at the television as if the New York Giants can hear his admonishments and advice, Steve sits back against the sofa cushions. His sigh is heavy and pointed, meant to draw attention, but it fails. 

So he places his feet on the coffee table. He crosses his legs at the ankle. And he glares. 

An unsuccessful moment later, he speaks. “I’m not gonna let you crash on my couch.” 

Unable to stop himself, Bucky smiles but otherwise focuses on the game. “That’s a fun psychic premonition. Do you read palms, too?” 

Steve attempts to look more threatening and narrows his eyes to slits. The blue is icy, menacing. 

However the elephant cushion he’s clutching to his chest? Not helping his cause. “So she dumped you because you’re a pain in the ass? Is that it?”

“She dumped me because I’m too good in bed and it was starting to become too much for her.” 

Sam pauses the game just to join Steve in looking at Bucky skeptically. 

He just rolls his eyes. “No one dumped anyone. We both decided we’re better as friends.” 

“S’usually a lie when people say that,” Steve remarks. He sticks his tongue out when Bucky narrows his eyes in offense. 

“It isn’t this time.” 

Sam, wearing a sly smile as he turns his attention back to the game, asks the next question: “Were there tears?” 

“She was stone cold.” Grinning as he holds his bottle of beer to his lips, he adds jokingly, “I cried like a baby, though.” 

Sam hums. “Not surprised. You fuckin’ sobbed at Inside Out.”

“Oh, so you didn’t cry when Bing Bong said ‘Take her to the moon for me’?” Bucky cocks an eyebrow. “What, are you a fuckin’ monster, Wilson?” 

The grinding of Steve’s teeth is almost audible, his irritation painfully evident when he tosses the cushion aside. 

Yet he still straightens it to make sure the elephant is sitting up straight, trunk pointed to the ceiling. 

“I’m being serious, Buck. Living with an ex... It’s touchy and awkward. How are you gonna feel when she’s got some guy over?” 

“The same way she’ll feel when I’ve got some girl over,” the answer is said with ease. “Hell, I’ll give her a condom if she needs one.” 

“And your feelings just turned themselves off?” 

His shrug is a bit reluctant, the smile he offers Steve hesitant. “Hers did.”

—

Hours pass before it’s just you and Bucky in the apartment. 

Natasha and Wanda leave first to get enough sleep before their eight-AM class, and Steve only manages to coax Sam off the couch once he has watched the game highlights and coverage twice over. You think you might scream if you ever hear the SportsCenter theme again.

Leaning against the door after it shuts behind Steve and Sam, you offer Bucky a sleepy smile as he rummages through the refrigerator. Judging by his sour expression, there’s nothing good to eat. “That was easier than I thought.” 

“Yeah, I’m real glad I read that ‘Telling the Children about the Divorce’ article for it.” He slams the fridge shut. There is desperation in his voice when he asks, “Are you hungry, too?” 

Dish rag tossed in his direction, you flip the faucet on to wet each glass. “When am I not hungry, Bucky?” 

“Are you more willing to pay for pizza or Thai?” 

“S’too late for Thai.” You set a washed glass atop the counter and get started on soaping up the next one. “We’ll get Thai when it’s your turn to pay.”

Three glasses sit on the counter before Bucky sets his phone down and begins drying them. He peers over at you with attempted tact.

But, to his dismay, you smile and meet his blue eyes with a playful glare. “What?” 

“Steve’s dead-set on me moving out.” 

Your frown is immediate. You stop scrubbing the popcorn bowl for a moment. “Do you want to move out?” 

His reply is instant. He stops drying a glass for a moment. “No. Do you want me to move out?” 

“No.” You resume scrubbing. “I can’t live here with anyone else.” 

Chewing on the inside of his cheek to avoid a grin, Bucky nods. He decides to change the subject and bumps his hip against yours. “Sam thought we were gonna tell everyone we got engaged.”

Startled laughter and you hand Bucky the washed bowl, switching the tap off and leaning your hip against the counter’s edge. “After, like, four months of dating? No wonder he looked so terrified.” 

“Should’ve played it off that way just to see what they’d say,” he muses as you help him put the dishes away. “Tasha would’ve hosted an intervention for you.” 

You hum in agreement. “Steve would’ve definitely called your mother.” 

“Would Wanda faint or is that too dramatic?” 

“She was ready to faint when I told her we had sex on the couch.” 

Eyebrows raised, he watches as you walk to the living room and fall into that exact couch with exaggerated relief. “You told her that?” 

Another hum. “Nat almost threw up.” 

“At the thought of us having sex in our own home?” he snorts, adding in a deadpan tone, “Oh, the horror.” 

Bucky collapses onto the couch beside you and smiles when you drop your head onto his shoulder. He toys with the stray pieces of confetti littered over the cushions. “Went all the way to Target for the more expensive poppers and they had even less confetti than the Party City ones.”

“Just because something costs more doesn’t mean it’s better.” 

He gasps playfully. “We have a genius in our midst. Someone please embroider everything she says onto pillows.” 

“Yeah and I’ll use those pillows to smother you in your sleep.” You lift your head and set your chin on his shoulder instead. You try to glare, but his smile is contagious. “I know where you live, Barnes.” 

“You won’t for long if Steve has it his way.” 

“If the world operated according to Steve’s wishes, we’d all be required, by law, to eat Pop-Tarts for breakfast and wear shirts two sizes too small.” 

--

CHAPTER 2: FINDING YOUR INDEPENDENCE 

#bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes college au #a8c

[artificialqueens]

Don't Need a Flight to Get to Paradise (Crystal x Gigi) - A-tresia

Gigi methodically slices the tape open and digs inside. Her eyes widen and her face is suddenly hot and red. And even though there’s an obvious look of embarrassment seen on her face, she’s still thankful that the camera is focused on her and not on the contents of the package.

A/N: Some non-AU smut because (don’t deny it!) we want this and we absolutely deserve this. This is probably the filthiest thing I will ever attempt to put into words. Enjoy!

Gigi sets her phone on the table and presses the button to start her Live. She fixes her hair while she waits. “Hey, everyone!” she says still combing her fingers through her freshly curled hair. “It’s been a while since I’ve gone Live and I thought,” she emphasizes the last syllable with a nod, “since I have a little bit of free time that I could go do an unboxing for you guys.” She squints and reads through the comments as she waits for more people to join.

She picks up her phone and flips the camera to pan across the pile in front of her. “Okay, so, I’ve got quite a  bit to open. There’s a couple of PR boxes and some merch from my season 12 sisters,” she explains, pointing to the boxes.

Struggling to open boxes with one hand, she decides to prop her phone against the wall and sit in front of it as she goes through the rest of the boxes. She’s already opened two make up PR boxes when she sees a familiar name on one of them, deciding this is what she’s opening next.

“Look, you guys! I have a package from my girlfriend,” she says playing up the Crygi clout. No one has to know the real tea, they can guess all they want.

Gigi holds up the box to the camera to point to the Crystal Methyd sticker plastered on the top. The comments are suddenly wild. “I wonder what’s inside,” she says, shaking the box. It sounds solid but it might just be packaging. “It’s probably new merch. Thanks, Crystal!”

Gigi methodically slices the tape open and digs inside. Her eyes widen and her face is suddenly hot and red. And even though there’s an obvious look of embarrassment seen on her face, she’s still thankful that the camera is focused on her and not on the contents of the package.

Fuck.

Fuuuuuuck.

She smiles slyly at the camera and quickly grabs a new box to open, trying to cover up the internal panic she’s currently experiencing. “Sorry, you guys. It looks like it’s unreleased merch. Let’s wait for Crystal to release it before I share. Okay?”

The comments are even crazier than before. Asking what’s inside the box. And why she’s suddenly so red in the face. She knows her socials will be flooded with this.

Gigi ignores the comments and even though she only planned to be on Live to open maybe two boxes, she proceeds to open three more make up boxes and merch packages from Jan and Nicky. She’s hoping people will forget. But who is she kidding? Stans never forget.

“Thanks for keeping me company for the last, uh,” she looks over at her clock, “for the last hour and a half. I’ll catch you guys again soon!” Gigi winks and ends the Live.

Not even five minutes after she ends the Live, she gets a FaceTime call and Crystal’s fully-painted face floods her screen. “Gigi Goode, why are people tagging me in screenshots of your Live and asking me what I sent you?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what you sent me,” Gigi glares.

Crystal raises a brow at her. “You don’t like it?”

“I mean, I haven’t gotten the chance to fully look at it yet.” She reaches into the box to pull out the contents — a bottle of lubricant, and… Gigi holds it up to the camera. “You got me a dildo.” Like it isn’t obvious what’s in her hand.

Crystal leans in closer to the camera. “Not just any dildo,” she smirks like she’s so proud of herself. “It’s a clone-a-willy.”

“A what?”

“A clone-a-willy,” Crystal repeats slowly.

Gigi’s eyes widen in realization. She takes a good look at the dildo in her hand. The length. The girth. The slight curve. The vein underneath. They all feel right. And real. But it’s cold and made of silicone and the person it’s supposed to be attached to is 1,600 miles away. She looks back at Crystal. “So you mean this is —”

“Mmhmm, balls included!” She definitely looks like she’s proud of herself, like she did the most groundbreaking thing on earth. “It’s even really close to my skin tone.”

Gigi laughs. “Were there other options?”

“Oh, I definitely thought of making it in an obnoxious glow-in-the-dark hot pink. I could make you one in pink if you want that, I still have the mold.” Crystal snorts as Gigi proceeds to inspect her new toy. “There’s a suction cup so you could use it on any flat surface,” she says this so very seriously you’d think she’s selling the product.

Gigi finds a button at the bottom. “Oh my god, Crystal. It’s a vibrator too?”

“Only the best for Gigi Goode.” They both snort. But clearly, Crystal is more amused. “Also, Geege, unreleased merch? Should we make a profit out of my dick? Am I a genius or am I a genius?”

“Hey, your dick is awesome. But I’m not sharing. I barely get any of it.” Crystal hasn’t stopped laughing since she suggested making multiple models to sell. Gigi thinks back to the last time they saw each other and realizes how long ago it’s been. With all the touring they’ve been doing, there just hasn’t been time to see each other in between. “Long-distance sucks,” she pouts.

“I know, baby,” Crystal sighs. Underneath her full clown makeup, Gigi knows she’s pouting too. “But we’re seeing each other in like two weeks so that’s something to look forward to, right?”

Gigi whines like a child. “But the last time I saw you was six weeks ago!”

“That’s why I cloned my dick for you. So you can fuck yourself with it and I can watch over FaceTime and you don’t have to miss me as much.”

“That does sound hot,” she considers. Gigi cocks her head to the side and bites her lower lip and looks up at Crystal from underneath her lashes. “Can we use it now?”

Crystal wiggles her brows at Gigi. “Do you want to?”

“I do,” she nods. She takes in Crystal’s face that’s taking up her screen and scrunches her nose. “But your mug really isn’t doing it for me.”

“Later, then?”

“For sure,” Gigi winks. “No, but seriously. I appreciate the sentiment. I just miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

“Should I send you a replica of my dick too?”

Crystal perks up at the suggestion, deciding then and there that she’ll send Gigi a kit — in maybe neon purple. “But it’s messy to make. It was like a science experiment!”

“Crystal. Elizabeth. Methyd,” she says, feigning shock. “Did you stick your dingaling in any of the science experiments you did in school?” Gigi can’t stop laughing at the mental image of Crystal sticking her erect penis into a model volcano.

“Shut up! It was hard to stay hard.”

—

Gigi couldn’t get anything else done for the rest of the day with the anticipation of what’s to come. Besides, she’s maintained a semi since they hung up and it didn’t really help with her already short attention span. She considered rubbing one out just for a little relief but decided to wait it out. It’s going to be better this way.

She’s already in bed, still semi-hard and freshly showered, with Crystal’s penis replica and a bottle of lube within arms reach when her phone buzzes in her hand.

Crystal: 2 mins. Get your laptop set up.

She doesn’t even bother to reply. She arranges her laptop, puts on her earphones (which, for a bit, she thinks of forgoing since her roommates are sure to hear her anyway), and positions herself on the bed checking to make sure that Crystal will be able to see everything.

In exactly two minutes, Crystal’s smiling face (void of makeup, thank god) fills her laptop screen. “Hey,” they both say at the same time. Gigi feels herself harden further at the look on Crystal’s face as she stares back at her.

“Geege, you shouldn’t have bothered with clothes. I didn’t!” Crystal moves back against her pillows as she pushes her laptop a little bit further from her to give Gigi the full view of her already hard penis. “Come on, I couldn’t be the only one naked here!”

“Sorry.” Gigi shakes herself out of her stupor at seeing Crystal naked, thumbing around the tip of her dick and quickly pulls her tank top over her head. She grips herself through the fabric of her underwear with a groan.

“Gigi,” Crystal breathes.

She slowly pulls her underwear down her legs, watching Crystals breath hitch. It makes her feel flushed and hot all over. “Happy?”

“Very.” She looks straight into Gigi’s eyes and wraps her hand around her cock, slowly stroking herself for Gigi to watch. “You look so good.” There isn’t a need for long introductions, they both know they’re on this call for one thing.

Gigi’s mouth feels dry. So instead of answering, she starts stroking, matching her pace with Crystal. They stroke in tandem for a while, eyes not leaving each other,  before Crystal tells Gigi to get the lube. She watches Gigi squeeze a generous amount onto her fingers. “Ready?”

“Can’t wait,” she says as she shifts to spread her legs wider so Crystal has a better view. “Can’t wait to stretch myself out so I can take your cock.” Gigi fucking hates dirty talk but she just misses Crystal so much she doesn’t even have the energy to cringe at herself; instead, she reaches down to rub her fingers over her hole with warmed up lube.

Crystal stops touching herself. Instead she focuses on Gigi’s movements. She watches Gigi slowly slip a finger in, whimpering quietly at the sensation of a single digit sliding in and out of her.

“Go on,” Crystal urges.

Gigi adds another finger and feels herself stretch and clench around her fingers. “Feels so good,” she breathes out. It’s been three days since she’s masturbated and fucked herself and six weeks since she’s had Crystal’s actual dick. She pulls one knee up for more space and moves her fingers in and out, gradually increasing her pace, going deeper each time. Her other hand wraps around her cock and strokes in time with her fingers.

A third finger slips alongside the first two and Gigi feels fuller. “Crystal,” she moans.

Crystal’s cock jumps at the sound. She’s so painfully hard she firmly wraps her hand around the base of her cock, delaying getting even more worked up until Gigi has her Crystal dildo up in her ass. “You’re doing so well, Geege,” she encourages. “Get yourself nice and stretched.”

Gigi can’t wait to get Crystal’s fake cock inside her. She shudders in anticipation. “C-can — Crys, I need —“ She sounds wrecked. Gigi is easy to work up; so easy to get all wet and open and desperate.

“Fuck, Gigi. You have no idea what you fucking look like.” She watches Gigi’s hips jerk. “Are you ready for my cock, baby?” Gigi couldn’t even form a sentence. Her jaw is slack and she just nods in agreement. “Look at yourself, so slick and open, I could just slide right in.”

“I want you to.”

“Do your fingers feel good?”

“I-I, y-yes, yeah. I like yours better, though.”

Gigi removes her hand from her throbbing cock and pulls her fingers out. She reaches out for her dildo, licks up one side of it and winks at Crystal.

“Torture,” Crystal groans.

“I would much prefer if this were actually you.”

Gigi pulls her laptop closer and rolls over on her stomach, finding a little relief by rubbing herself against her sheets. She tilts her screen down and positions her new toy and herself so Crystal has full view of her mouth.

“You’re gonna want to start touching yourself,” she says before licking the tip of the dildo slowly. Crystal’s mouth hangs open, practically drooling at the sight, and just nods as she tries her best to mimic the movement of Gigi’s mouth and hands with her own hands.

Gigi maintains eye contact with Crystal while she wraps her lips around the toy and starts giving it a very enthusiastic blow job, easing her mouth down and coating it with saliva. She strokes her hand up and down the way she knows Crystal likes as she moves her lips up and down, stopping every so often to lick the shaft and head. At the back of her head, she knows how ridiculous she might look giving a cold silicone toy a blowjob but it feels so much like Crystal she doesn’t even give it another thought.

Crystal is stroking herself with her right hand in a regular fluid motion, matching Gigi’s pace. The fingers on her left hand pinches at her nipple piercing.

“So hot,” Gigi comments.

“Feels good,” Crystal whispers as she watches Gigi take all of it into her mouth, closing her eyes as she relaxes her throat and swallows around it. It’s obscene but Crystal can’t look away. “Fuck, need to be inside you.”

Gigi draws off the dildo with a smirk, pressing a kiss to the tip of the toy. She quickly gets up from the bed, taking the laptop, the bottle of lube, and the very wet toy with her.

“Where are you going?” Crystal asks.

She sets her laptop down. “This will be easier on the floor,” she explains.

Gigi reaches for the dildo and squirts extra lube onto the already saliva-slick surface. She gets on her knees and sticks the suction of the dildo directly on the floor underneath her.

“Wanna ride you,” she says positioning herself. Crystal not able to take her eyes away from Gigi’s hard dick pointing straight at her.

“Yeah, okay.” Crystal leans forward to get a better look at Gigi rising up a little bit on her knees, grabbing the shaft,  and slowly lowering herself down on the silicone cock. “This is so hot, fuck.”

She doesn’t realize that she has her eyes closed until she feels the base of the toy pressed up against her and she slightly stumbles forward at the fullness. Gigi moans at the realization that she’s got it all in; so lewd that Crystal thinks Gigi just came right then.

“You okay, babe?”

“Fucking awesome,” Gigi breathes out. “Feels exactly like you. Not that the dildo is as good as the original, but still.“

Crystal laughs and this sets Gigi’s laughter off too. How very fitting for them to be laughing while doing this.

She waits for Gigi to calm down and adjust to the intrusion and only starts to touch herself again when Gigi starts moving.

Gigi begins to rock herself up and down on the shaft, encouraging Crystal to touch herself. She thinks she could come just like this — not touching herself, just fucking herself on the perfect replica of Crystal’s cock. She lets her own dick bounce against her body as she rides the toy in little short motions.

Gigi moans and whimpers as she watches Crystal languidly work a generously lubed hand over herself.

“I feel like I’m watching a porno,” Crystal comments as her hand starts to work faster on her own cock. Gigi tries to laugh but it quickly turns into an obscene moan. “Touch yourself, Gee,” Crystal encourages.

"Oh, fuck! Baby, I love your dick so much.” Gigi grips her own dick and pumps along with Crystal. She sets a steady pace bouncing on the dildo making her thighs burn. But that’s the least of her concerns. The burn just intensifies everything.

"Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” she answers, biting her lower lip.

Crystal strokes her cock slowly, trying to make the sensation last, but the sight and sounds of Gigi pleasuring herself was just too much.

“G-Gigi,” Crystal stutters, struggling to find words. “I c-can’t —“

“Go on, baby. I want to see you come.” Crystal gasps out a breath and instinctively closes her eyes. “Eyes on me, babe,” Gigi croons, syncing her movement on the toy to Crystal’s hands.

She watches Crystal work herself over the edge, listening to her shaky breaths and pitchy moans. She didn’t know she could feel pleasure just by listening to Crystal moan like this, listening to her cry, and try to hold in her whines.

“Oohhh, fu-fuuuuck me,” Crystal moans. Suddenly her hand is moving so fast, Gigi doesn’t know where to focus her eyes — her face contorting with pleasure, her hand pinching her pierced nipple, her hips jerking upward, or the cum shooting over her spasming abdomen.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Crystal says as she pushes back hair that’s stuck to the sweat on her forehead, still panting. She looks back at Gigi who’s waiting for her to recover, still moving her hands over her still hard and throbbing dick with long strokes. “Your turn.”

Gigi leans back against her calves and bottoms out on the dildo. She wraps her hand firmly around her cock and thrusts up into her fist. “Fuck, it’s really — ah — i-it’s really too much. I’m really so — I can’t —” She’s no longer stroking but thrusting uncontrollably up into her hand. “S-so close,” she moans. “Gonna come. Fuck, I’m gonna —” Gigi cries out, eyes rolling back, as thick ropes of cum splatter all the way up her torso, some reaching all the way up to her chin.

Her orgasm is so intense, there’s a deep sense of calm that spreads throughout her body. She slowly lifts herself from the dildo and collapses on the floor, panting and jerking and not even bothering to clean up. She’ll deal with the sticky mess later.

She opens her eyes to see Crystal staring back at her in a daze. Gigi’s never felt the distance between them as sharply as she does now. All she wants is to hold Crystal and be held.

“Wow,” Crystal whispers. Gigi just nods, still too overwhelmed to speak.

For a moment they just stay there, a moment frozen in time, watching each other and drinking it all in.

“Crystal, I —“

“I know. I feel bad that I’m not there to do anything about it.”

“Two weeks.” Crystal nods in agreement. “I’m sticky,” Gigi points out.

“We should probably both clean up.”

“I’ll call you again in 15, yes?”

“Take your time.” Gigi nods.

They wave and blow kisses at each other before Crystal ends the call with a love you lingering in the air. Gigi sighs, equally satiated and sad. Two weeks.

#rpdr fanfiction #crystal methyd #gigi goode #crygi #canon compliant #smut #facetime sex #atresia #s12

[ephemeral-afterlight]

Day 2: Explosion

(We’ll tear out our hair.)

Whumptober 2019 Day 2: Explosion

Word Count: 4363

Relationships: pre-relationship/pining logince

Warnings: explosions, very very minor body horror (machines connected to the inside of the body), minor panic attack, death mention, killing spree mention. that should be all, but let me know if i need to add something!

A/N: so i have no idea why this got so long, but... here you go! i’ve wanted to do an androids au for so long, and then it just... happened. i didn’t plan any of this in the slightest, but have this trash anyway.

The boom that resounds for miles across the city shakes Virgil to his core. The frequency grates on his ears, how it echoes between skyscrapers and resonates through his head. His hearing goes muffled, for a moment, like he’s stuck his fingers in his ears the same way he used to when he was a young, petulant child. It’s hard to stay standing, when it feels like gravity has increased its pull on his body ten times over, but Virgil manages to stumble to the side and brace himself on a bike rack. His vision blurs, shifting in and out of focus, unable to come to a standstill through his lightheadedness.

Things come back slowly, beginning with his eyesight; the image in front of him clears up, merges into one, and he’s now able to observe the people running away in terror, their screams not reaching his ears. Then, his cognitive thinking; being able to process the situation flushes his system with a new wave of anxiety and dread, and he turns to look in the direction opposite of where most people are running, unable to comprehend what he’s looking at even as he sees the massive cloud of smoke and flying debris erupt from the center of the building he was just inside of. His hearing is the last sense to recalibrate itself, the sounds of the world around him slowly building in volume until they’re normal, but loud, too loud, and Virgil coughs around the dust that whisked its way down the street in the split second he wasn’t paying attention.

Now that he can clearly hear the shrill screams, the sirens echoing from streets away, the honking of car horns and fire engines and loud, raucous noise, Virgil turns back to look once more at his office building, and his breath gets stuck in his throat after a particularly painful inhale. The skyscraper is toppling over, the metal and glass shattering and creaking as they fall out of line toward the street Virgil’s on. Another cloud of dust and probably worse things he doesn’t want to enter his lungs is coming his way, billowing down the street at a pace that leaves no room for compromise.

Fuck.

Fuck.

It takes a long few moments for Virgil to regain control of his body, a panicked whine tumbling through his lips against his will as he finally turns away and stumbles forward. A second blast rips through the street, much closer this time, and Virgil can feel his heart lurch in his chest. He almost trips on the curb, having forgotten that he’s been on the edge of the sidewalk, but pushes himself back up with the help of a post office box. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know where to go. What was he supposed to be doing, again? Is he going to suffocate in the dust and debris because he can’t remember how to get to somewhere safe? Is another explosion going to blow up right on top of him?

“Hey, dude! You gotta get out of the road, you’ll die out here!” someone says to his right, over the sound of a car engine rumbling. Virgil whips his head around, met with the spectacle of a bright red coloured car with multiple young adults crammed inside of it, and he doesn’t know how to respond. He only gapes, mouth falling open as if to say something, to ask for help, but he can’t speak.

“Oh no, are you alright, kiddo? Do you need some help?” says the guy on the passenger side, of whom apparently poked his head over the driver’s seat to be heard better. The driver scowls and softly slaps his buddy’s face away, sticking his tongue out when an affronted squawk is vocalized in response. He rolls his eyes and turns back to Virgil, beckoning with sparkling golden nails in the direction of the backseat.

“If you need a ride, come on, but hurry the hell up and make a decision! I am not gonna get blown up because of you! I have a performance soon and I cannot shine on stage if I’m a pile of dust on this gross street corner!” Driver Guy shouts, and Virgil shuffles on wobbly feet to the backseat door on autopilot. He should think this through more, should consider the fact that maybe these guys are predators, that they’re gonna kidnap him and torture him and then he’s gonna get murdered, but his brain is halted and not functioning correctly and this is the best chance Virgil’s got. Well, it’s better than staying on the street bumbling around without a clue as to what he’s supposed to be doing, anyway.

Sliding into the backseat takes only a few seconds, and he pulls the door shut, and then he’s being lurched backwards as the car takes off. He’s inside, away from the dust, but he still can’t breathe, and it must be obvious to the guy sitting next to him, because he adjusts his glasses as he reaches over to lay a hand on his shoulder. Virgil jumps, staring at the person beside him with cautious eyes, and his lungs burn.

“I’m Logan. You are having a panic attack. I’m going to squeeze your hands now, is that okay?” the man beside him asks in a monotonous voice, face impassive but eyes sharp and cunning and concerned. There’s something off about him, something that tickles in the back of Virgil’s mind, but he can’t pinpoint it. Swallowing back a cough, Virgil nods slowly, and with the affirmation, Logan reaches over to grab Virgil’s hands, far more gently than he would’ve expected, given the bespectacled stranger’s cold demeanour. The pressure helps to ground him, acts as an anchor point while he remembers to control his breathing, to follow Logan’s pace.

“Dude, you alright? You better not pass out in my car,” the guy in the driver’s seat complains, and Virgil’s eyes flutter as he squeezes Logan’s slim fingers tightly. The latter of the two blinks hard, and his pupils dilate, and he tilts his head, and Virgil finally gets it. He’s an android. Even so, it’s a wonder his microexpressions are impossible to read--he must be consciously controlling them to calm them down. He’s likely a mental health android, then. Virgil relaxes a little bit, and grips Logan’s fake, warm hands as they round a corner just a little too fast. There’s a little bit of comfort in the familiarity of the android’s synthetic skin.

“Uh, no… where are you taking me?” Virgil answers when he remembers how to speak, voice wobbly as he fights back to keep his anxiety under control. The driver breathes out through his nose in a quiet, huffing laugh, and his passenger turns fully around in his seat despite how dangerous it is to do so, with how recklessly his friend is driving.

“We’re going to an AnRAD Center, kiddo! Logan’s had a bit of a shutdown since the explosions scared him, the poor thing. And you need to get that dreadful cut looked at. Oh, by the way, I’m Patton!” the guy says cheerfully, seemingly ignoring the noise of the third explosion behind them even as something… odd flashes in his eyes. At his words, Virgil lets go of Logan and lifts his hand up to feel the wound on his forehead that adrenaline made him unaware of before. Bringing his finger down to inspect it with blurry vision, Virgil can barely make out a liquid on his fingertip. It’s sticky, and smells bad, so it’s obviously blood. This is the first time he’s ever gotten a cut. Oh god, is it gonna kill him?

“My name is Virgil. But… but I’m not an android. They can’t…” Virgil trails off, his thought process becoming hectic as the lightheadedness comes back full force. It’s hard to concentrate, to process anything that’s happening, and he can only clutch Logan’s hand as the car is finally pulled to a smooth stop in front of an AnRAD Center, one that he doesn’t recognize because of its proximity to downtown. The bright red “Android Repair and Diagnostic Center” sign flashes distractingly in his peripherals, but right now, he’s only focused on maintaining his breathing.

“What? Wait, what are you ta--” Patton cuts himself off, eyebrows furrowed as he thinks. His eyes widen and his mouth falls open as he turns to the driver, and he lets out a noise of disbelief. Said driver brings his perfectly manicured glittery nails up to rest on the back of his own seat, then quirks a perfect eyebrow as if to nudge Patton into an explanation. “Roman, is he a IM60X? I thought those weren’t even in development yet! And to release him with his server receptors disabled... that’s not only irresponsible, it’s against the law! Virgil, where did you come from?”

An… IM60X? What...what the hell is that? What is this guy talking about? Can he not see that Virgil clearly isn’t an android? What’s all this talk about server receptors? Virgil doesn’t understand, he can’t think, why is it so hard to jus-- just-- thi-- think-- th-- th--

His vision goes dark.

System error…

Accessing directory “Virgil V3”...

Unable to access directory “Virgil V3”.

Troubleshooting…

Running program “failsafe.exe”...

“failsafe.exe” is attempting to run unknown program “reset.exe”. Program will be terminated and placed in quarantine.

[MANUAL OVERRIDE ; CLEARANCE: AnRAD Boston C29433121P:Valley, Rachael N.]

“reset.exe” has been placed on program whitelist. [AUTHORITY ; AnRAD Boston C29417D:Director White, Allen M.]

Running program “reset.exe”...

Stopping program “ToT_v2.1.exe”...

Stopping program “eMotion_v6.12.exe”...

Stopping program “SoCue_v9.3.exe”...

Stopping program “Neuron_v5.exe”...

Shutting down all external processes...

Shutting down all internal processes...

[EXCEPTION: “andev_server.exe”, “darkroom-version-5.exe”=hidden]

Establishing server uplink…

AnDEV server uplink failed.

Troubleshooting…

Enabling AnDEV server receptors…

Process unsuccessful.

Resetting AnDEV server receptors…

AnDEV server receptors reset.

Enabling AnDEV server receptors…

AnDEV server receptors successfully enabled.

Establishing server uplink…

AnDEV server successfully linked.

Sharing diagnostic data with nearest AnRAD terminal…

Diagnostic data successfully shared.

Sending diagnostic data to ‘AnDEV Boston’ for troubleshooting…

Diagnostic data successfully uploaded.

Initiating cooldown sequence…

Running program “andev_restore.exe”...

[MANUAL OVERRIDE ; CLEARANCE: $%^&@*!&#^&*?]

“andev_restore.exe” has been placed on program blacklist. [AUTHORITY ; $%^&@*!&#^&*?]

Running program “christine-level0.exe”...

“christine-level0.exe” is attempting to run unknown program “darkroom-version-5.exe”. Program will be terminated and placed in quarantine.

[MANUAL OVERRIDE ; CLEARANCE: $%^&@*!&#^&*?]

“darkroom-version-5.exe” has been placed on program whitelist. [AUTHORITY ; $%^&@*!&#^&*?]

Running program “darkroom-version-5.exe”...

Disabling AnDEV server receptors… [AUTHORITY ; $%^&@*!&#^&*?]

AnDEV server receptors successfully disabled.

Attempt to delete core process “servrec.exe” terminated.

[MANUAL OVERRIDE ; CLEARANCE: $%^&@*!&#^&*?]

Deleting “servrec.exe”...

“servrec.exe” successfully deleted.

Running program “Awaken.exe”...

Enabling all internal processes…

Enabling all external processes...

Running program “ToT_v2.1.exe”...

Running program “eMotion_v6.12.exe”...

Running program “SoCue_v9.3.exe”...

Running program “Neuron_v5.exe”...

Running program “LookingGlass_v2.4.exe”...

Running program “Wavelength3.exe”...

Running program “Autonomy_v1.17.exe”...

Running program “5sens.exe”...

Software successfully reset.

Hiding process prompts...

Awakening…

A gasp flies out of Virgil’s mouth as he tries to lurch forward, wrenching his arms away from the cold grip they reside in. When they don’t move, and are only met with resistance, he starts to panic, flailing in a feeble attempt to escape. His senses are attacked with bright lights, moving blurs, the sound of voices and the whirring of machinery. There’s something on his head, in his head, but he can’t move, so he can’t figure out what it is, and that only speeds up his hyperventilation even more.

“--rgil. Virgil!” a voice says harshly to his left, and calloused hands hold his arms in place. He doesn’t like being held down. He doesn’t want to be stuck, trapped, let him go-- “Stop! Calm down, you’re fine. Nobody’s gonna hurt you. You’re at an AnRAD center, and you’re connected to an AnRep frame. You have to calm down, or else you could damage your body or the frame. I doubt you’d be able to afford to reimburse us for it, so please, stay still.” 

It’s what appears to be a woman, and now that Virgil’s vision is focusing in, he can see that she’s wearing a lab coat and pointy glasses. She seems to be young, with curly red hair and hazel eyes and a small scar under her left cheekbone. Now that he’s looking around, he realizes that Patton and Roman are also here, the former of which gives a small wave. Roman is sitting with Logan in the cubicle beside them, and is holding the android’s hand gently as he seems to go through diagnostics and internal repairs.

“B-But AnRep frames are only for androids. What-- How am I here? What’s going on? Why is there something in my head?!” Virgil rushes out, panic twisting its way into his words and tone. The lady (whose nametag says “Rachael”) clicks her tongue with furrowed eyebrows, and simply hums as she leans forward to press a few of the brightly coloured, unlabeled buttons on the side of his AnRep frame. An odd feeling washes over Virgil right after Rachael scoots in her rolling chair back to her previous position, an unfamiliar, cool balm to the heat in his brain. But… he’s hooked up to an AnRep frame, isn’t he? What’s to say he even has a brain? Oh god, he’s going to be sick. Can he even get sick? What is going on?

“You’re an android, Virgil. In fact, you’re a model I haven’t seen before, since its hardware hasn’t even passed the testing phases yet. I don’t know who made you, or how you’re out in the world at all, but what I do know is that whoever built you? They’re a genius,” Rachael answers, curiosity and excited intrigue weaving through her demeanour, in a way that shows so plainly in every jittery gesture of her hands and the shine in her wondering eyes. She clearly is interested, so Virgil assumes that this is something she’s passionate about. Then again, would she really be working a full-time job at an AnRAD center if she didn’t care about androids? “Their work is extremely sophisticated and distinct, but I don’t have anyone else to compare it against. Both your hardware and software are special in their own ways, but that honestly means nothing if the creator’s style doesn’t match anyone I know.

“Now, while I am really impressed by your creator’s work, they also have disabled and permanently deleted your AnDEV server receptors and their associated programs, which is irreversible by someone with my clearance level. Unfortunately, I don’t know if the Director White will make a special case for you to restore their function. I… I suppose I can just leave it like that, if you feel there’s no need to bring the Director into this. As long as you haven’t been convicted of any crimes, it isn’t… well, it isn’t strictly necessary to have the uplink.”

Even with the soothing medicine (?) administered through the AnRep frame, Virgil’s head still feels like it’s spinning, and it’s so hard to concentrate for long enough to understand what Rachael is talking about. His head lolls to the side momentarily, and he takes a deep breath (he still needs to breathe, right?), and then he straightens up once more. “What… what are the-- the server receptors, anyway? What do they do?”

“Oh! Sorry, I should have explained that right off the bat,” Rachael exclaims apologetically, brushes a lock of hair behind her ear as she turns to the monitor beside her. She types something that Virgil can’t see, quick strokes upon plastic, a clicking and clacking that echoes, echoes in his head. “Your server receptors are what establishes a link between your computer and the AnDEV servers. It holds your memories of development, allows you access to the cloud, will automatically connect you to the internet and let you browse internally, lets you make phone calls without an actual phone, etcetera, etcetera, you get the point. Disabling an android’s server receptors can be a really bad thing, especially if most of their memories are stored in the cloud rather than locally. The purpose of storing memories in the cloud is to make sure that if your body and the computer inside gets heavily damaged, to an irreparable state, your memories and artificial consciousness can just be uploaded into a new body, easy as that. 

“Now, androids are, at default, set to create a copy of everything you’d store on your local drive and upload it to the cloud, so that if you get into a situation where your server receptors are damaged, infected, or disabled, you’d still be able to retain your full consciousness and access memories even while disconnected from the main servers. However, for a lot of androids, sometimes copies aren’t made because the setting to do so automatically has been changed and they aren’t aware of it. Unfortunately, this usually leads to androids who have been damaged beyond repair having what is essentially amnesia. An artificial personality is extremely difficult to replicate, especially without access to their memories and the data for how their demeanour and behaviour has evolved past their original model. Loved ones, in these cases, often consider the android to be ‘dead’ outright, as all that is salvaged is often far different than the android they knew before.

“As for you, Virgil, the problem is that your server receptors have never even been enabled before. You’ve been without access to the AnDEV servers, obviously unaware that you’re even an android at all, which, as you know, became illegal after the Harry McCain incident. I know this is all a lot to process, and it might take a while to adjust, but you’re doing a lot better than I expected. Let’s just hope you don’t go on a crazed killing spree, too, hm?”

And Virgil… doesn’t know how to reply. He doesn’t know what to think, doesn’t understand, he just wants to go home. He wants to leave, and sleep, and never come back here. He wants to forget this ever happened, drill into his head and pull out anything that could remind him of this. The knowledge that he’s not as human as he previously thought, that instead of flesh and blood he’s made of microchips and wires, it’s… he could have died out there today. He could have been reduced to a bunch of scrap metal in the street and he would have been none the wiser.

“What-- what were the explosions earlier?” Virgil asks, struck by how fake his voice feels now that he knows he has a speaker instead of vocal chords. Although he’s still confused, and there’s something connected to his skull, he settles back into the AnRep frame. It’s at an odd angle, not fully vertical but not horizontal enough to really lay down, and Virgil hates how it feels off balance. He wants to relax, and that’s probably not going to be something that comes easy again for a long time, but that doesn’t mean he can’t still make an attempt. “The ones in the building and the street?”

Rachael stops typing, fingers poised above the keys just centimeters away from touching the surface. The digits curl into loose fists, fall slowly to rest on top of the keyboard, and the woman turns to give Virgil a strange look. She glances away, swallows hard, opens her mouth to say something despite nothing coming out. Virgil glances at Roman, who is still sitting with a deactivated Logan, but who’s now observing their interactions with some sort of weird look, too. What is up with everyone right now? Is Virgil going crazy or something?

“We… don’t know yet,” Rachael says carefully, slow and measured in a way that’s so transparent as to its intent. She’s hiding something, but won’t tell Virgil for some reason, and it just serves to counteract whatever it was she gave Virgil to calm him down. The woman’s hair bounces as she whips her head up to stare intently at her monitor again. She purses her lips, taps absentmindedly at the corner of the desk the screen rests on. Rachael looks as if she’s reading something important, but it’s almost like she’s trying too hard to look natural, to cover her discomfort up and make it look like absolutely nothing’s wrong. Virgil’s hands shake where they’re attached to the AnRep frame, restless and anxious. (Is that intentional? Are androids supposed to be able to get twitchy? To get anxiety? Is this all just simulated? Are his emotions not even real?)

“Oh,” Virgil mumbles, sighing shortly as he returns to his previous task of inspecting his body. He looks normal, feels normal other than the machines attached to his limbs. Virgil glances up just in time to see another employee walk up to reboot Logan, putting in various strings of text that might be passwords into his terminal. At another tap of a key, Logan’s eyelids flicker over a blank stare, and then he wakes up. His head pulls up smoothly, tilts when he looks around with big, curious eyes as he processes his environment and the people around him. It’s kinda cute, actually, when his gaze lands on Roman and his lips quirk up into a tiny smile, how he laughs silently at Roman’s flustered blush even as he blinks hard to do what Virgil assumes is a system checkup, of sorts. It’s something all androids do upon awakening; they scan their softwares, their drives, anything and everything to make sure that there aren’t any viruses or errors or corrupted files that could potentially bug their system. Wait, will Virgil have to do that now?

“When… can I leave? I want to go home,” Virgil asks, pleads, almost, and Rachael looks back up at him, seemingly returned to normal. She huffs a laugh, rolls her chair over to press a few buttons on the AnRep frame, and then the sound of something being depressurized comes from behind Virgil’s head. He startles, almost wants to yank his body away to get away from the danger, but there isn’t any danger, so he forces himself to stay still. The process of the machines removing themselves from the insides of his limbs and head is just about the strangest thing Virgil’s ever felt, and it’s crazy, because he can feel it. He shouldn’t be able to feel the parts twisting and turning inside of his arm, shouldn’t be able to perceive that there is metal detaching itself from the back of his head, but he can. If Virgil weren’t still freaked out about this whole “you’re really an android, not human like you’ve thought literally your whole life” thing, he’d be amazed at how modern technology has evolved to be so advanced that he actually believed he was a real, living person.

“You’re free to go, Virgil. Just sign the form the receptionist gives you on your way out and you’re good to go. But please, all I ask is that you come back sometime within the next couple months for another checkup, just so I can make sure that everything is working properly,” Rachael asks him, concerned in her words and her eyes, and Virgil just wants to leave. He nods out of courtesy but then walks away without another word. God, why did this have to happen today of all days? Why can’t the life-changing realizations come on a different day than the one where he almost dies to an explosion in his office building?

“Hey, Virgil, wait up!” a voice that Virgil recognizes as Patton calls, huffing little breaths as he runs to catch up. Roman and Logan aren’t far behind, although Roman is far more concerned with making sure Logan is in condition to walk by himself than with Virgil. (Logan… is an android. Of course he can walk okay. He just got out of repairs and diagnostics, he’d know if there was something wrong with his legs. Roman should know this, given the fact that it seems he has an immense crush on the android, but Virgil supposes he can’t rag on the poor love-struck fool too much for it. It is a sweet gesture, no matter how unnecessary it actually is.)

“You need a ride home? It’s just, I know you don’t have your car, and I-- well, at least I hope that we’re better to ride along with than the bus, so…” Patton trails off, scratching sheepishly at his arm. He scrunches his freckled nose when the scent of chemicals wafts into their path, sticks with them as they walk by as quickly as possible. Once they’re clear of the smell, and the front desk is in front of them, Patton looks at Virgil once again and gives him a grin.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” Virgil replies with uncertainty, and he glances back at Logan and Roman again, the former of which is completely oblivious to Roman’s “inconspicuous” attempts to hold his hand. Virgil just shakes his head in amused disbelief, finding it funny that he could meet so many new, weird people in one day because of something that was likely to have killed him had they not helped him out of it. They’re all, like, trauma-bonded now, or something. Virgil can’t help but snicker to himself as he signs the last paper with trembling fingers. “Thanks for… all of this. For helping me. It was… alright of you.”

And Virgil flinches when Patton lets out a bubbly giggle and latches onto his side, begrudgingly relaxes under the arm slung around his shoulders. He ignores the whole “android” thing for now, puts it out of his mind in favour of quietly laughing at how Roman’s dramatics juxtapose Logan’s somewhat reserved yet endeared behaviour. His body isn’t real, it’s made out of metal and wiring and computers and codes, but he still feels warm with the other three’s banter as they walk out of the front doors of the AnRAD center, so he thinks that maybe it’s okay to just be human for a little while longer.

#whumptober2019 #no.2 #explosion #ts sides #sanders sides #ts virgil #virgil sanders #sympathetic virgil #virgil centric #ts roman #roman sanders #ts logan #logan sanders #ts patton #patton sanders #sympathetic patton #android au #death mention #anxiety #minor panic attack #minor body horror #machinery #logince #(pre-relationship) #platonic lamp #jasper's writing

[taeyongtime]

for the one i’ve always loved

genre: childhood friends to lovers!au ⎮ fluff

group & member: NCT’s Jaehyun

word count: 5.5k

a/n: inspired after watching the movie for ‘To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before’ + please read the book series too and stamp “jaehyun channels big kavinsky energy” on your forehead 

“I have never seen a dirtier pigsty than your room, Jung Jaehyun.”

The familiar soft chuckle you grew up listening to since age five echoes across the four walls and you roll your eyes at his nonchalance.

“Are you going to clear some space up for me to sit or what?”

“You can just move my clothes aside,” Jaehyun laughs as he turns back to his computer. “It’s not like you haven’t done it before whenever you come over.”

“Then I’m not coming in,” you huff, lean against the doorway with your arms crossed. “Not until you clean your room and there’s visible space for me to sit.”

“You’re quite a lot of work as usual,” he sighs, getting up from his chair and clearing the pile of dirty clothes on his bed into the hamper while reorganizing the clutter on his desk. “Happy?”

“If you had developed a readily aware sense of when to clean then we wouldn’t be having this type of conversation.”

“Hold it, I just happened to be lazy on this day of all days.”

You take a seat on his cleared bed and glance at the dimmed laptop on his desk. 

“What are you doing?”

“I was watching a 19+ film before you interrupted me saying I needed to clean my room.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m kidding. I was checking my email because I haven’t checked it in a while.” 

He turns around in his swivel chair. “What’s up?”

“My parents are currently traveling on a cruise ship for 2 months and didn’t think to tell me until this morning via a handwritten note taped onto the fridge.”

“Don’t laugh!” you whine at hearing his warm laughter. “It’s nothing to laugh about!”

“Let me guess, next you’re going to say something about crashing here for the next 2 months because you don’t want to be alone in that big house of yours.”

“…I hate you.”

One last chuckle and Jaehyun gets up to retrieve the sleeping bag he keeps in his closet for just an occasion, tossing the bundle at you as he teases about the injustice of sharing his space with a person he has known since youth when there was already not much room for two people when it could barely hold the things of one.  

—

You and Jaehyun used to be next door neighbors before he moved out to an apartment closer downtown.

The Jungs had moved in next door three days after your eighth birthday, the dimpled boy waving at you while sitting on a cardboard box with ‘TOYS’ written in black marker on its side instantly becoming your closest friend before you could even wave your hand back. Seat partners throughout elementary school and the number one go-to whenever you wanted to hangout or simply as company, Jaehyun was always there for you when you needed him and it couldn’t come as a bigger surprise when he told you of his move out the day he turned eighteen. Used to being able to hop over in a matter of five minutes tops for ten straight years, you had sulked for a good week before talking to him again, getting hold of his new address once he settled in and immediately working out the fastest navigational route to his new place from yours for an impromptu housewarming party.

“Where are your parents headed this time?”

“Australia and New Zealand,” you answer, wiggling into the sleeping bag and turning to face his bed rather than the bookshelf on the wall. “They said it’s quite nice there and they have friends to catch up with anyway. Then they’re going a bit further up to spend a week in Indonesia and two days in Thailand before coming back here.”

Jaehyun’s nose scrunches while he pauses to take in the information and a sneeze follows. 

“So… So tell me what made them think it was okay to leave you behind all by yourself?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. They think it’s fine since I’m an adult now but I can barely do anything when everything’s been done for me. Chores? Cooking my own meals? I already have a hard time deciding what to wear some days, how am I supposed to cook, clean, and manage my life when I’m practically no different from that of a baby?”

“Then it’s time to learn.” The bed creaks from the weight lifted off its frame and the light goes out, leaving you wide-eyed in the pitch black that was Jaehyun’s bedroom as he shuffles back to the warmth that was his covers. 

“You’ll be fine.”

“Really? What if I end up burning the house down trying to microwave popcorn at 2am?”

“You’ll be fine,” he insists. “I’ll be your chaperone in the kitchen to make sure you don’t set off the fire alarm and wake my parents next door.”

“You’ll come over, then?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Smiling into the covers of the sleeping bag, you mumble “good night” and he does the same, silence drawing the curtains to a close as sleep overtakes your remaining perception of consciousness.

—

You return home early next morning, but not before Jaehyun made breakfast when he woke at 9:30 and you 10am. Stomach content and brain alert after eight hours of deep sleep, you unlock the door with a cheery hum and take in the large empty space that was the living room and the open kitchen, the set of stairs leading up to the second floor only increasing the dread of being by yourself with so much emptiness around. Not only were your parents away on their trip, but it didn’t even seem like the housekeeper was here—that much your parents still allowed you on what they called “the journey towards independence” by allowing the housekeeper to still come in to clean. You didn’t hear the sweeping of the broom in the dining area or even the harsh vacuum for the carpet upstairs, and while she mostly kept to herself while she worked, there was still an occasional check-in whenever she came in during the afternoon to tidy up. A part of your daily routine was clearly missing today as you close the door and head upstairs to change into a set of comfortable clothes rather than the top and bottom you had gone out in.

“Where’s my pen?”

You dig around the container of pens on your desk and find the one you’re looking for, the tip still smeared in ink from yesterday’s leakage. Pen ready, you open the first drawer and reach all the way towards the back, taking out the round pink box nestled behind volumes of old schoolbooks and popping off the lid to reveal four envelopes within—three sky blue and one a dusty rose color. Lifting the flap to reach at the letter inside each one, you unfold the creased papers and scan over each one, deeming them fine as they are until you reach the letter from the pink envelope. Bringing the pen close to the next space on the line, you start writing as you see fit, ink slightly smudging the edge of your pinky as your hand travels down the page.

“And… done.” 

Clicking the pen to retract the tip, you note your spot in the letter and refold the worn crease marks from constant instances of unfolding and refolding. It would probably be best if you transferred everything to a fresh sheet for easier reading, but there was always more to add for this specific letter. There was a reason why this letter was in a separate color than the three sky blue envelopes, its recipient and intention on a whole different level than the other three.

Back in the box your letters go and you return them to their usual hiding place, closing the drawer shut and making your way to bed, wrapping your body up in the warm covers as you close your eyes into a light sleep. Writing a letter is truly something special to retain in this era of technology and everything fast-paced, the notion of snail mail holding a quaint inkling of fondness in your heart. Fondness of the writer at the thought of the sealed envelope making its way towards the intended recipient in due time and the surprise of the recipient at receiving a heartfelt message in the mailbox without prior notice.

But it’s not like you will ever send all the letters you’ve written. Especially not when the pink envelope contained a love letter of all things.

—

Jaehyun, as previously promised, comes over at six in the evening after dinner with his parents to oversee your first attempt at cooking a meal for yourself and nearly falls to the floor at the scope of the mess that was your cooking skills.

“What the hell happened here?”

“I told you, I can’t cook!” you yell, jumping back at the drops of oil bouncing out of the pan. “Can you taste the spaghetti and see if it’s cooked? I don’t know what’s the right texture to be labeled as ‘chewy but not too firm’.”

“… Stand aside.”

“I have to do this myself, Jaehyun. Just… I don’t know, walk me through it.”

Fifteen minutes later you manage to produce a plate of spaghetti that didn’t look like pig slop and didn’t taste that bad either, but definitely not as good as it could’ve been as you bite down on a strand of what seemed to be still slightly undercooked noodle.

“Passing for a first timer,” your best friend comments. “But spaghetti is one of the easiest dishes to make, so…”

“Okay, we get it, Master Chef, sit your ass down already.”

“I deserve an ice cream right?” he begins, already opening the freezer while you continue eating your dinner. “After saving your kitchen from being burnt down?”

You place the tomato-stained plate and fork into the sink after you finished eating. 

“Only if you wash the dishes first.”

“Deal.”

He ends up taking two ice cream bars rather than just the one he was promised, irking you to no end as you slap his hand off the refrigerator the moment it touches the space on the bottom to pull it open.

“You’re about to clear out my entire fridge, you pig.”

“Ouch. So mean.”

Edging him out of the kitchen to wash the dishes yourself, you jump onto the couch after putting them in the dish rack to dry and stare up at the ceiling, not knowing how you were going to survive on your own for the next two months.

“The semester starts tomorrow,” Jaehyun begins. “Nervous?”

“Actually, no,” you tell him truthfully. “Surprising, I know.”

“It’s good that you aren’t nervous. New year, new you.”

A playful flick at his shoulder for the attempt to lighten the mood and he gets up, brushing at his jeans. 

“I’d better go. It’s late and I have an early start tomorrow.”

“You can always stay over at your parents’ place, you know. That’s your home too.”

Jaehyun shrugs. “Yeah, but my backpack and stuff is back at my apartment.

“Can I use your bathroom before I go, though?”

“Use the one upstairs,” you tell him as he makes his way towards the bathroom by the kitchen. “The sink in that one’s kinda weird.”

“Will do.”

—

“Hey, you’re Y/N right?”

You lift your head up, having just barely set foot out of the lecture hall for 10am biology at the sight of the boy standing before you, lips pursed and arms crossed. He didn’t look too happy, and you sure hope you hadn’t done anything wrong when you nod and ask what business he had with you so early in the day.

“I’m Doyoung. We had an Intro to Statistics class together last semester.”

“Yeah, I remember,” you nod again. “You’d always sit in the same row as me.”

“Can you explain what you mean by ‘bigheaded prick’ in this letter?”

He holds up a blue envelope and your blood practically runs cold at the sight of the yellow happy face sticker on the seal, edge curled upwards from the envelope being opened to access the letter inside.

“How… How did you get that?”

“Found it in between my calculus homework,” Doyoung says in a clipped tone. “Didn’t know I had my very own anti-fan until now.”

You swallow at the memory of angry scribbles from last semester’s statistics class, complaining on paper about how Doyoung always asked so many questions during discussion and extending class time past the designated time slot because he always had something else needing an answer right after the first question was answered by the TA. How he was smart but needed an ego check, a know-it-all who couldn’t see past the raised nose bridge that was always cast down upon others… not good. Not good at all.

“I’m really sorry I said those things about you,” you apologize with a low bow. “I really… didn’t mean it.”

“I’m not sure you’re sincere about the apology at all.”

Your head dips even lower until you can feel the hunch in your back. 

“I’m sorry, I really am.”

Murmurs of curiosity begin to buzz around your hunched figure, Doyoung luckily having the decency to forgive you quickly before a crowd began to gather. 

“Yeah, fine, you’re forgiven.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m going to keep this, by the way.”

You recoil in surprise and he nods in the affirmative. “So I’ll know what people are talking about when they start talking behind my back.”

“Doyoung, can I please get my letter back?” you ask desperately. “It’s… private.”

“Not anymore.” He tucks the blue envelope into his backpack and shoots you a gummy smile. 

“See ya.”

You wave your hand weakly and sigh, fear slowly rolling in when you realize that if one of your letters had already gotten to its recipient, the other blue envelopes probably would be in the hands of their readers also.

“Oh no,” you gasp, pulling at your hair. “Not… Not the pink one too?”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Spooked at the sudden question, you whip your head around and nearly collide into Jaehyun; he extends a hand for you to help steady yourself from falling.

“Something wrong?”

“I…” You open and close your mouth, not knowing how to best phrase the situation. “Uh… did you…. You remember that one time you came over to my house?”

“I’ve been over to your house so many times,” he laughs. “Which time?”

“Be…Before the semester started,” you blurt out. “Do… Do you remember seeing a, uh, pink box? When you were over?”

“Nope.”

His answer only further sinks the stone in your churning stomach and you shake your head, hands pressed against your temples. 

“This is bad.”

Jaehyun frowns. “What’s up?”

“N-Nothing. I… I gotta go.” You hurriedly wave and leave without another word, feet frantically taking you away as your brain races to backtrack when you’d last seen the box of letters. One blue envelope was already out, and there was no call for where the other letters would be.

Hell, there was even a chance that he could’ve seen the pink one but was just keeping quiet for your sake.

—

News of the second letter came in the worst way possible, the jolly recipient of the second blue envelope broadcasting his encounter with the letter over the university’s radio station for all to hear late in the night. While gratefully given anonymity on the DJ’s behalf, his consistent rambling on your notation of his friendliness and bright personality on paper was enough to keep you from storming out to the radio station yourself to tell him to shut the hell up, not daring to leave the library when you still had to finish the second half of a 5-page essay due by 9am tomorrow. Plugging in your earbuds, you shift your focus back to your laptop and tune out the radio, which luckily switches to a new ballad song of one of the currently popular artists and not more talk about any handwritten letters.

It is nearly 2am before you finally submit the assignment, and on your way out of the library you bump into none other than Johnny Seo himself, the man in question who ran the radio station with an entire five minutes today on receiving a lovely handwritten letter. Unsure if he knew who you were, you quickly turn tail to avoid making conversation, but the exclamation for you to wait stopped you dead in your tracks.

“Sorry,” he apologizes when you turn around to face him. “I got the wrong person.”

“N-No problem.”

Silently whispering thanks to the heavens for letting you slide by, your triumph is short-lived at the sound of footsteps from behind, the frown on Johnny’s face easing into a slow smile as he shakes his head knowingly at having missed the obvious.

“You’re Jaehyun’s friend. We met a while ago, yeah?”

“Well, Jaehyun’s very popular across campus, so I’m not surprised if you don’t remem—”

“And you wrote this.” He holds up the blue envelope. “It’s addressed to me.”

You debate denying but find no point in doing so when he had already indirectly exposed your letter fiasco to the entire student body. 

“Yeah, I wrote it.”

“It’s a very nice letter.” He takes out the slip of paper tucked inside and scans the contents. “I didn’t know I had such a positive presence in your life.”

A flush of red creeps onto your cheeks and you duck your head down, not knowing how to respond. 

“Well… you’re always so encouraging to your radio listeners and just… an overall cool person.”

“May I keep this? This is the first fan letter I’ve ever received.”

“I… I’d rather…”

The eager look on his face too much to disagree upon, you find yourself nodding ever so slowly while sighing internally at having already agreed to give away two of your prized letters. 

“Okay. You can keep it.”

“Great! I’ll walk you home, if it’s fine with you?”

“Y-You don’t have to.”

“Please.” He offers an arm. “I insist.”

Once at your front door, you receive quite the pleasant surprise when Jaehyun’s mouth drops at seeing you and Johnny together.

“Hello.”

“Your best friend is cute,” Johnny smiles, wiggling his fingers to a wave before pushing you towards Jaehyun. “Take good care of her.”

“Will do,” Jaehyun laughs, beckoning for your house keys and opening the door to let you in first. “Later, Johnny.”

“Why are you here?” you ask your best friend curiously.

“Thought to ask you to go get food with me but then you didn’t show up until now.”

“How long were you waiting?”

“Uh….  Maybe four hours?”

Your eyes widen at the thought of Jaehyun waiting four hours outside your doorstep and punch him on the shoulder.

“Why didn’t you message me earlier?”

“I did,” he points out. “But you probably were too busy to reply.”

“God, I’m… I’m so sorry.” You usher him inside and drop your things down. “I was… preoccupied.”

He nods in understanding and sits down on the couch. 

“Want to talk about it?”

“Um… not really.” Even though he was your best friend, it wasn’t in your best interest to inform him about your missing letters. The slips of papers were your most prized possessions, hidden feelings recorded down in ink that you didn’t have the courage to reveal in person. Not that they were all love-related, with Doyoung’s being a vent about the difficulties of his character and Johnny’s an admiration of his bright personality and wanting to become his friend, but there did remain two letters harboring romantic interest—one blue one for a tiny crush and the pink one that could change everything if not handled the way you had intended for things to go.

“I just want you to know that I’m here for you,” he says with a smile. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

“I…” A heavy sigh falls through your lips. “Okay. Here’s what happened.”

❀

“Hey, hey, hey.”

“Oh, hi Johnny.”

An enthusiastic hand claps your back. “So I heard there’s still one more blue letter circulating around.”

You roll your eyes. “Did Jaehyun tell you?”

“A little bird tweeted it out,” he grins. “His name could be Jung Jaehyun, I’m not sure.

“Need help finding the third one? I can send out word through the radio.”

“That is the last thing I need right now, Johnny.”

He shrugs. “Just a thought.”

“I don’t even know how they got out in the first place,” you fret. “I keep them closely hidden at home, there’s simply no way—”

“Well, I got mine in Physics. Jaehyun was looking through my notes and noticed there was a blue envelope slipped inside between the pages.”

“Jaehyun found it?”

“Yeah.” He suddenly reaches into his back pocket and stares at his buzzing phone. 

“Sorry, I have to go. See you around?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Good luck with the last one.”

“There’s actually one more, but…”

Your words trail off as Johnny takes his leave, the gears in your brain slowly trying to piece together Jaehyun’s role in the situation of your missing letters.

“Did Doyoung find his through Jae, too?”

Before you can look through your phone for Doyoung’s number, a quiet cough sounds from behind and you turn around to face the recipient of your final blue enveloped letter.

“Are you the one who wrote this letter?”

—

The third letter was one that you put quite an amount of time into, but you didn’t know why you were so nervous as your fingers tightened along the edges of the books you were carrying in your arms. Not that your feelings were anything more than a tiny crush upon a guy who had been kind enough to direct you to an 8am class last semester when you didn’t know where to find the building it was located in.

Taeyong was only being nice then, but it didn't stop you from casting side glances at him when you found out he was in the same major and shared most of your classes with you.

“I…” You blubber. “I, uh… well…”

“Oh, hey, Taeyong.”

An arm slinks around your shoulder and you gulp as you greet your best friend, nudging at his side and casting glares at the blue envelope in Taeyong’s hand. Hopefully he got the hint that you needed to get away from Taeyong so you didn’t need to address the topic of the letter.

“Jaehyun, I need to go study,” you blurt out, your brain working overdrive to churn out a reasonable excuse of leave. “We made plans to go to the library together, remember?”

“Right,” he chimes after, glancing at the blue letter in Taeyong’s hand. “Catch you later, Taeyong?”

“Um, I was hoping to ask Y/N about—”

“Gotta go, bye Taeyong!” 

You pull Jaehyun after you and make it to the library entrance before stopping and turning around to face him.

“Thank goodness you showed up in time,” you wheeze, adjusting your grip on your books as you take much-needed breaths of air. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have known what to say about the letter.”

“Actually, I was specifically looking for you,” Jaehyun says with a shrug. “It wasn’t a coincidence.”

“Oh, okay. What did you want to talk about?”

“Well, about the letters…”

You hear an exclamation of your name just as Jaehyun opens his mouth to speak and drop your books onto the ground at the sight of Doyoung hurrying over towards you and Jaehyun.

“Are you busy?” he demands.

“No…”

“Then follow me, this is important.”

You glance at Jaehyun and he gestures for you to go. 

“I’ll wait for you at the biology hall.”

“Yeah, sure.”

It turns out that the important thing Doyoung had dragged you aside for was a review session for his current Statistics class, one that you had a different professor for. Apparently the review slides weren’t going to be posted online and he had entered the classroom fifteen minutes late, thus the proposal for you to transcribe the first half of the slides onto paper while he paid attention to the TA reviewing the second half of the powerpoint for the sake of the fifteen minutes he’d lost getting there after the start time and the five minutes it had taken to pick you up. Maximizing efficiency by utilizing all available resources, he had said.

“I’m missing a few points,” you tell him as students begin to file out of the classroom after the two-hour session comes to an end. “This is how much I managed to get down though.”

He skims over your notes and nods. 

“It’s good enough. The TA said this upcoming exam is focusing more on the newer material anyway.”

“Then why did you drag me here when I was in the middle of something with Jaehyun?”

“You owe me from the letter.”

“I remember receiving forgiveness for calling you a prick,” you scowl. “What the hell?”

“Now you’re forgiven,” he corrects you. “Thanks for coming here on such short notice.”

“… I don’t regret what I wrote in your letter.”

It was already dark out by the time you leave, hurrying over to where Jaehyun had said he’d be waiting. You didn't think it would take this long and had forgotten to text him to not wait for you during the whirlwind that was statistical facts and definitions demanding for your attention.

“You made it.” The figure sitting on the bench outside the biology lecture hall stands up and smiles in relief. “I was afraid you’d forgotten.”

“No, it…. it ran longer than I expected. Sorry for not letting you know ahead of time.”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “I would’ve waited for you to show up regardless.”

“Dinner’s on me for having you wait,” you offer. “Cool?”

“Oh, definitely.”

—

Jaehyun never brought up the topic of the letters after you’d grabbed dinner that night, and you receive the surprise of your life when Taeyong approaches your table in the library one Friday afternoon before your 3pm chemistry lecture.

“May I sit?”

“Y-Y-Yes.” You hurriedly move your things to make space and he smiles as he sits down. 

“Sorry it’s so… messy.”

“About the letter addressed to me…” he begins without missing a beat.

You brace yourself for his reply, closing your eyes shut so you didn’t have to look at him. The imagery of him rejecting you in the library and calling you a creep for staring at him in class was so embarrassing to even think about that—

“I think you’re a very nice person, Y/N.”

One eye slightly opens and the other gradually follows. 

“Me? Nice?”

Taeyong nods and smiles. “I didn’t know we had so many classes together either. If I had known, we could’ve been study buddies so I wouldn’t need to study all by myself last year.”

A nervous laugh escapes from your lips and you clap your hands around your mouth, ducking to avoid the stares and curious turns of heads from other tables.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I don’t know if I share the same feelings, but your letter still means a lot to me.”

“I understand,” you whisper back, genuinely grateful that this hadn’t gone as badly as predicted. “Um, so this means you don’t mind exchanging numbers so we can study together right? You’re in like, three of my classes this semester.”

Warm chuckles bubble up in your corner and he inputs his contact information into your phone, dialing his own number from your device so he had a record of your phone number as well. 

“It’s no problem at all.”

You grab your phone back after he’s finished and nod in thanks.

“Actually,” he breaks in. “I do have one more thing to give you.”

“Oh?”

A pink envelope is placed on the middle of your notes and your eyes widen.

“I won’t say who I got it from,” Taeyong says slowly. “I was only told to deliver this.”

“But.. you didn’t…”

He leaves without another word and you hesitantly peel the flap of the envelope open, heart caught in your throat as you take out the letter inside and read the only line written on the center of the paper.

❀

Maybe deep down you’d already known it would be him.

The minutes tick by as you sit outside of the library, waiting for him to show up while the campus slowly empties out with the completion of classes and anticipation for the weekend. The numbers of people walking by dwindle down and you sit up when you spot the lone figure heading your way when most passerby walked the opposite direction.

“Sorry,” Jaehyun apologizes, sweat glistening at his forehead as he offers a sheepish smile. “I didn’t know my meeting would run this late.”

“It’s fine.” You get up from the bench and smile. “I know you would’ve done the same for me.”

His signature dimple makes its way onto his face and you take out the pink envelope Taeyong had given to you earlier. 

“So.”

“So,” he echoes. “What’s with the letter?”

“Where’s the original one? The one I had in here written about you?”

Feigned innocence twinkles in his eyes as he shuffles his feet, avoiding eye contact. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, I can recognize your handwriting like my own. I know you have it with you somewhere.”

He reaches into his backpack, pulling out a sheet of folded paper that was creased all around the edges. 

“I was debating framing this up so I can stare at it first thing when I wake up in the morning.”

“Gross.”

“Can’t be more gross than the fact that you never told me in all the years we’ve known each other that you love me.”

Embarrassment rolling off your shoulders in waves, you start to walk and a second set of footsteps follow suit. 

“Hey, it’s true that you love me, right?”

“I don’t know,” you dismiss. “It’s cold out and I’d like to get home before it gets dark out and the wind picks up.”

The lax pace from behind breaks into a run and you stop in your tracks when a pair of hands grab your wrists together, sneaking around your waist to pull you into a hug.

“Let me go, Jaehyun.”

“Did you think I’ll say no when I’ve pretty much felt the same about you all this time?”

The gentle look in his eyes softens even more and he takes off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders. 

“Here, it’s getting a bit cold.”

“Well,” you huff indignantly, pressing down the feeling of bliss fluttering in your stomach. “If you love me too, then why did you send out my other letters? Those were private, you know.”

“I thought… they looked ready to be sent, so I just dropped them off anyway. They were all signed off and everything.”

He winces at the impending groan from your end and moves his arm up, resting his hand on your shoulder in apology. 

“Are you… mad at me for doing it?”

“It’s already been done, so there’s nothing more I can do about it,” you sigh. “But at least they all know how I feel and I can get some form of closure with my feelings.”

“Then…” His eyes scan your face, nervous as he bites his lips. “Then this also means you accept my apology… right?”

You eye him with a knowing glance and slowly break out the smile you’d been suppressing, bubbles of laughter echoing in the darkened night sky.

“What’s so funny?” he frowns.

“The look of fear on your face,” you giggle, “Priceless!”

Realizing you’d pulled a fast one on him, he pulls the jacket off your shoulders and you gasp in the cold of the night, the thin green hoodie on your back not nearly providing enough warmth as Jaehyun’s puffed one.

“Give it back, I’m cold!”

“Nope.”

“I’m cold!” you shriek, shoulders hunched at the wind nipping behind your exposed neck. “Give it back or I’m breaking up with you!”

“You’re breaking up with me already?” He offers his jacket just out of reach for your arm span. “Right when I was going to re-offer my jacket?”

“You never even answered me,” you refute as you cross your arms to retain whatever body heat that hasn’t escaped yet. “So I don’t know, maybe you’re breaking up with me, not the other way around.”

The padded layer re-drapes itself onto your shoulders and you hurriedly fit your arms inside the sleeves. 

“What’s your final answer, Jung Jaehyun?”

“I’ve already read your letter and told you I’m not going to say no, what more do you want?”

Displeased at the lack of clarity, you stuff your hands into the jacket pockets and start to walk, humming a quiet tune that only increases in volume as another hand slips into the right pocket to intertwine its fingers with your own.

“Your hand is warm,” you mumble without looking at him. “Aren’t you cold without your jacket?”

“No,” he answers, tightening his hold on your hand while matching his pace with yours. “I’m warm just by being with you.”

#nct #jaehyun #nct scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #nct fanfic #nct fluff #tatbilb!au #its been too long since i last wrote my mojo is kinda off i feel :/

[darksharedsins]

Warm Water, Warm Bodies.

AU: X

Ship: Moxiety

Prompt: "You've got too many clothes on."

Requested by: X

Warnings: Hand-jobs, bath sex, discussion of kinks, Daddy kink, slight hair-pull kink.

Summary: Patton and Virgil decide to try out having more explicit activities in the bathtub instead of the bedroom, turns out both of them like it even if it was just a small experiment this time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

"So, you're sure you're okay with this? I don't wanna make you uncomfortable or anything Virge!!" Patton said as he and his boyfriend, Virgil, walked upstairs to the bathroom. This was the first time they had ever discussed doing something a bit more sexual outside of the actual bedroom, but, they were the only ones in the mindscape at the moment, Roman and Logan were out on some quest in the imagination that Roman had somehow convinced Logan to join on, so they finally had the opportunity to try it! And even if they didn't like it in that form, they could just enjoy the nice bath together!

"I'm sure, Patton," Virgil said, tugging at the end of his hoodie sleeves. While, yes, nervous to open a new door in sexual expeditions, he was also excited to look into this new, well, would you be able to call it a kink? Whatever it was, he was as ready as possible to explore. Patton grinned, "Okay!" he opened the door to the bathroom, "I'll fill up the tub for us, while you get undressed, you've got too many clothes on, anyway," he said with a wink, as he moved over to begin filling up the bathtub as he had stated beforehand.

A dark pink hue flushed up Virgil's cheeks. "Yeah, okay," he smiled, shyly. He fiddled with the zipper of his hoodie, "you do that. I'll get undressed, yeah." He pulled the zipper down, slowly shrugging the shoulders of his hoodie off. "No need to be so flustered Virgil! We do look the same after all!" Patton said with a bit of a giggle, as he began to untie his cat hoodie and let it fall to the floor, then proceeding to unbutton his shirt.

"I know, Patt," Virgil replied, letting his hoodie fall carefully to the floor, "sometimes I forget that you can dirty talk behind all your daddy-ness?" Virgil shook his head. "No, not the correct wording." Patton snorted. "That was interesting wording," he chuckled. "I thought the dirty talking and daddy-ness were the same thing," he remarked as he took his shirt off. He went back to the tub to turn off the water as not to let the tub overflow.

"Shut up!" Virgil covered his face, "that's not what I meant. And no matter how many times I hear you talk dirty, I still can't get over the fact you can." Virgil kicked his hoodie to the side with the rest of the clothes slowly starting to pile up. Patton only laughed a bit, in a fond not malicious way, of course, now more focused on getting stripped the rest of the way down than teasing his boyfriend. He didn't want to make him too anxious before they tried this 'Possible Kink' out.

Virgil quieted, pulling on his sleeves. He moved his gaze away from his doting boyfriend to finish undressing, starting with his long sleeves. Patton finished getting undressed quick enough and sank down into the warm bath slowly. "Baaabeee~" he jokingly whined, motioning for Virgil to get in with him.

"I'll join you in a moment, Patt," Virgil replied, attempting to kick off his pants. He tossed his long sleeves in the pile, stumbling a bit over his tied up feet. "Careful there don't trip!" Patton warned quietly, glancing up and over at his boyfriend from where he had been slowly wading his hand through the water.

"I know," Virgil smiled, bending down to toss his pants off, then he stripped from his underwear. He stood in front of the tub, "So, uh, where should I sit?" Patton shifted a bit to the side so there was more room, "Next to me?" he asked with a small smile, "Or on my lap?" left him as the sweet small smile turned a tad more mischievous. Virgil sputtered, carefully stepping into the tub, "On- on your lap." He sunk down to sit in front of Patton, the others hips cradled between his knees, "This good?"

Patton couldn't help but grin at his stuttery boyfriend. "Yep, it's good for me!" he said. He leaned forward closing his eyes a bit and placing a sweet kiss on Virgil's lips. Virgil sighed softly, closed his eyes, and pushed back gently into the kiss, then wrapped his arms around Patton's shoulders. Patton's hands traveled down to hold onto Virgil's waist. He tilted his head a bit into the kiss to deepen it a bit.

Virgil smiled at the moment, almost attempting to push himself closer to Patton, but he pulled away, just a bit, and asked, "What next?" He shifted from side to side before fully settling in Patton's lap. "Well depends... What do you wanna do, Virge? All the way or for right now just take it slow and do something else?" Patton asked quietly, wanting to give Virgil the option as he was fine either way.

"We're just kind of experimenting, right?" Virgil asked, then paused, more for himself as he took a slow breath, "then let's just go slow for now." Patton smiled. "Alright," he said placing a soft kiss to Virgil's cheek as his hands went down a little further to Virgil's hips. He glanced back up at Virgil silently asking if this was okay. Virgil nodded, smiling softly. He laid his head, eyes and nose turned toward his neck, on Patton's left shoulder trying to press himself closer to the other.

Patton couldn't help but lean forward a little bit and add a couple kisses to Virgil's neck and cheek again. With Virgil's permission, Patton's hands traveled even further down, soon enough one wrapped around Virgil's cock, while the other moved to his thigh spreading his legs just a bit. Virgil whined, pressing careful kisses to Patton's neck where he could reach. He moved his legs to Patton's touch. His left hand trailed down Patton's side, settling on Patton's waist.

Patton smiled at Virgil's whine, his hand beginning to rub the tip of Virgil's cock, applying a bit of pressure not enough to hurt obviously. "Paattt," Virgil continued to whine, "don't tease." He rolled his hips up into the others hand. Patton couldn't help but grin, he shifted a bit so he could add more kisses to Virgil's neck. The small kisses soon turned into little nips at his skin. Slowly, he began to move his hand up and down, but his grip around Virgil's member loosened slightly as he did so. Still teasing to some extent.

Virgil rolled his hips into the loosened hold, water gently splashing around them. His kisses turned to bites and he harshly sucked at the skin. His fingers twitched at Patton's hip. Once Virgil began to bite at Patton's skin, he did the same, beginning to leave marks in the wake of his bites. His hand tightened again, yet his movements stayed the same slow pace. "God, Patt, please," Virgil moaned against the other's skin. The water lapped against the rim of the tub as he tried to move with Patton.

"Please what, Virgil?" Patton asked with a grin, his movements stilling, yet his grip remaining the same as he added more bites to Virgil's neck. "You're such a fucking tease," Virgil groaned, hand tightening a little at Patton's hip, "you're always such a fucking tease, you know." Patton chuckled fondly, pulling away from Virgil's neck so he could look at him, "Mhm... You love it though, babe..." He smirked at Virgil, "so did you want this?" His hand suddenly moving once again, this time a bit faster yet still a tight grip.

"Fuck," Virgil hissed, "yes, that, exactly that." He whined, sucking a darker hickey by Patton's clavicle. Patton's smirk never left as he continued his quicker pace, after a bit spending up even further, making the water around them splash a little bit onto the edge of the tub where they sat.

"Ah, fuck," Virgil moaned, bitten nails attempting to dig into Patton's skin. The hand at Patton's hip twitched before jumping to settle below his belly button. Patton hissed slightly as Virgil's blunt nails dug a bit into his skin. "Does that feel good baby?" He asked, not minding Virgil's hand resting on his stomach at the moment. More focused on making sure Virgil is enjoying this.

"Yes, daddy," Virgil murmured, head tilting to look down. He turned his hand upside down, fingertips resting about the nest of brown curls. "Daddy, may I?" Patton nodded. "Yes, you can, baby..." he murmured, shifting a bit so they were more comfortable.

Virgil's hand trailed down, taking the base of Patton's cock lightly in his hand. He held it, gently pumping a few times, each time rubbing the pad of his thumb over the head. Patton let out a soft moan, pausing his actions for a moment so he could just feel the pleasure of it. The warm water in addition to the soft contact was definitely a good thing. Soon enough he got ahold of himself and continued his previous actions, every few strokes on Virgil's cock he gave him a light squeeze, letting him feel the tightness of his grip as he pumped his cock.

Virgil let out a short, keening moan every drag upward, his own motions stalling as he attempted to not squeeze too hard. He bit his lip, hitching his hips forward. His own hand stuttered at a steady pace, trying to bring Patton the pleasure he was receiving.

Patton involuntarily jerked his hips forward as Virgil's movements stalled. His hand that was resting on Virgil's hip quickly moved away and to Virgil's cheek instead, gently coaxing him to look at him before kissing him. This kiss wasn't as sweet and soft as the one before, it was a bit lustful and rough.

Virgil moaned into the kiss, taking the hand biting into his skin and moved it to his hair, combing through to get somewhat of a grip on this situation. He pulled at Patton bottom lip, hand speeding up its administrations as his own needs increased.

Patton's own noises increased as Virgil pulled at his lip. Quickly allowing his lips to part. His hand on Virgil's cock sped back up, his fingers working on each upstroke to add pressure to his head, and more pressure to the base when his hand went back down. Patton's other hand moved away from Virgil's cheek and threaded through Virgil's hair as well, slightly pulling on it as a test.

Virgil squeaked then let out a moan as his head was pulled back by the gentle grip in his hair. His hand stopped stroking Patton's cock as his neck opened, hickeys and bite marks still placed there. His hands moved to grip Patton's shoulder and rut into the strokes.

Patton quickly began attacking his neck with even more bites and hickeys. His strokes now worked quickly and his grip was tight as it had been. The only sounds that were echoed in the bathroom were of Virgil's moans and whines, and of the water now splashing outside of the tub due to their shifting and quicker actions.

Virgil's grip on Patton's shoulder tightened as he was drawn closer to the other. He shivered in delight as he felt Patton mark him and moaned at the quickened pace. He rolled his hips in an attempt to keep up, getting closer to the edge.

"Are you close, baby?" Patton asked quietly, as he pulled away from Virgil's neck. He could tell Virgil's movements were getting desperate and quicker. The hand still in Virgil's hair tugged a bit again.

"Ye-yes, daddy," Virgil whimpered, pulling himself closer to Patton. His blunt nailed claws at the Patton's shoulder as his movements stuttered and caused the water to slowly lap over the edge of the tub and onto the floor.

"C'mon then baby, come for me..." Patton whispered into Virgil's ear, his hand moving from Virgil's hair to his back, keeping him close to him. He couldn't help the slight hiss of pain that left him as Virgil's nails dug into him

"Fuck," Virgil whimpered, closing his eyes. His breath hitched, biting at his bottom lip, "fuck, fuck, fuck, Patt, daddy, fuck." His hips stuttered, his release swimming up into the water between them.

Patton's own cock throbbed at the sounds his boyfriend made. His strokes slowed and the grip loosened to work Virgil through his orgasm, but he pulled away before Virgil got oversensitive.

Virgil panted soft puffs of air against Patton's skin as he slowly climbed down from his orgasm. His hands slowly dropped into the water just at Patton's hips.

Patton couldn't help but smile at Virgil, much more fond and innocent than their previous actions would suggest, "Did you like that, Virge?" He asked

"Yeah," Virgil nodded against Patton's shoulder. "Yeah, I did." He shifted to the right, letting his left-hand drop to brush the top of the curls again. "Patt, you didn't...?"

Patton shook his head, "No, I didn't I was more focused on you... But, you don't have to do anything if you don't want... We could just take an actual bath and take a nap... If you want..." He offered. Sure, if he didn't get to release it will suck but he was not under any circumstances about to make Virgil feel bad or forced into doing something like this.

"No, no, I want to help you," Virgil spoke quickly, pulling back to look Patton in the eyes. He could finally see the dark marks he left on Patton's neck and shoulder. His left hand pulled back a moment, settling higher up on Patton's arm as he sat back t talk to Patton, "I-- if you want me to, that is. I-- I-- I know what you just said, but I just am--" Patton quickly shushed him, "Hey, Virge... It's okay." He moved back a bit, his hand that had settled on Virgil's back moved to hold onto Virgil's, "Whatever you wanna do right now, you can, I'm okay with it, I promise you..." he murmured sweetly.

Virgil smiled and nodded, squeezing Patton's hand gently. "Okay," he murmured back, dropping his right hand down to Patton's hip. "Okay. I want to help Daddy." Patton nodded, "Okay then, baby, go ahead..." he said, spreading his legs a bit. His eyes drifted to Virgil's neck, humming in admiration at the marks he's left on him. Virgil could probably cover some of them up with his hoodie but not all of them... good thing they have makeup.

Virgil smiled slightly and nodded, his hand dropping to taken Patton's cock in his hand. He stroked carefully up and down, thumbing at the head and slit with each pass up. Patton let out a soft gasp as his cock was finally given contact, quiet moans left him as Virgil rubbed the head and slit, already a bit sensitive due to the contact from before.

Virgil grinned, tightening his grip just a bit and kept the same pace. He placed soft kisses on Patton's neck as he felt the water lap at his forearm. Patton's noises only increased, his hands moving to grasp at Virgil's shoulders, giving him more leverage to buck into his grip.

"Daddy, you make such pretty noises," Virgil whispered, pausing to just rub over the head. He pressed another kiss to Patton's neck as he worked with Patton's bucking. Patton's hips stilled after a couple thrusts, "That's because you make me feel so good, baby..." he murmured, between small pants, and softer moans.

"I like making you feel good, Daddy," Virgil said, "just like how you make me feel." Virgil sped up his strokes slowly, nipping carefully down Patton's neck and shoulder. Patton tilted his head to the side as Virgil nipped at his neck, giving him more access to that expanse of skin. "Glad I make you feel good, baby... That's all I want, is to make you feel good and happy.." He murmured

"And that's all I want for you too, Daddy," Virgil murmured, twisting his hand up with his movements. He carefully moved his free hand to settle at the bottom of Patton's head and played with the small tufts of hair. Patton leaned forward a bit sweetly kissing him, a stark contrast to their actions. He only pulled away a little bit to murmur, "I love you..." Before reconnecting their lips. His hips jolted again, as he began to near his edge

"I love you too," Virgil said breathlessly, letting their lips reconnect. With the movement of Patton's hips, he pulled back just a moment, "you close, Daddy?" Patton nodded, "Y-Yes, baby... I am..." He moaned out, his hips bucked up again. His grip on Virgil's shoulders tightened a bit but he tried to prevent his nails from digging into Virgil's skin. "Come for me, then, Daddy," Virgil murmured, speeding up his strokes, "let me see you come. Wanna see you come."

Patton's eyes shut tightly, "mn- Fuck..." His breathing hitched, but he didn't try to muffle his noises, "Fuck- Virge- baby-" his hips bucked up harshly as his release mixed with Virgil's still in the water between them. Virgil smiled, carefully working Patton through until he was just brushing oversensitive. He slowly pulled away, settling his hand back on Patton's shoulder as he wrapped him in a hug.

Patton calmed down from his high and wrapped his arms around Virgil, returning the hug. He chuckled under his breath, "I guess this was... A good thing to try? I really liked it..." He murmured, not pulling away from the hug. Virgil sighed softly, pressing a chaste kiss to Patton's lips, pulling away a moment. "Yeah, I liked that too," Virgil replied, carefully, leaning his head back on Patton's shoulder. "It was fun."

Patton nodded, "Yeah it was," there were a few moments of calm silence between the two, before Patton sighed, "Now though, we gotta clean up... Maybe take an actual bath?" He giggled. Virgil giggled right along with him, smiling against his neck. "Yeah, an actual bath sounds nice right about now." He said, skimming his hand over the water away from their bodies. "Drain the water?"

Patton nodded. "Yeah, we can drain the water then fill up the tub again..." He murmured, pulling away and kissing his cheek. He moved over to the drain and took the small cover off of it to allow the water to drain out. The two of them refilled the tub, cleaned one another off and decided to take a nap, curled up peacefully in each other's arms.

#not safe for sanders #romantic moxiety #pattons sanders #virgil sanders

[the-lupine-sojourner]

Happy Christmas my wonderful friend. Thank you so much for being there for me throughout this past year, it has meant more to me than I can say 😄 Also, just because your writing is tons’a fun to read, can I get a little something for line 20...? 😖 Sorry, I have nothing for you in return (at least yet), but you can choose whatever pairing you want. Have another Happy Christmas and another thank you 😸 (ps cant wait for the next takara chapter 😛)

OHMIGOSH GUYS!!!! MY BESTIE GOING AFTER FOR MY HEART RIGHT HERE!!!! I am so happy you like my dorky writing and (TvT) *happy tears* I am so happy to hear that I helped you in some way. I know you’re about to do a big thing, and I wish you a pile of good luck with your endeavor!!

Thank you for always bearing with my outpouring of theories and ideas for Takara’s Hero Academia and I can’t wait to show you the next chapter!!

In the meantime, @elite-guard-hardygal chose #20 from This List of Prompts and it is the prompt ‘You’ll be fine. I promise’. I ended up choosing a fluffy setting and Fantasy!AU KiriKara for your request because I love KiriKara and I have tossed around this idea for a long time, so here we go!

Merry Christmas a thousand times over to you, my lovely bestie! *blows kisses*

Okay, now onto the story!

God Bless and Merry Christmas!

~The Lupine Sojourner

[P.S: The first conversation is heavily inspired by the song ‘That Would Be Enough’ from Hamilton and the italicized words are actual lyrics. Lin-Manuel Miranda owns all rights to Hamilton and I want to hug the man for blessing the world with his masterpiece. Anyway, onto the story!]

“How long have you known?” Eijiro asks softly, hands on my stomach. I smile a little sheepishly.

“A month or so.”

“You should have told me.” He protests, looking alarmed. I chuckle.

“I gave a note to Izuku as soon as I knew.” I counter. The alarm grows.

“You should have told me!” I suddenly feel bad, lifting his chin to kiss him.

“My love, you were right in the middle of a quest.”

“That doesn’t matter!” He protests.

“Yes, it does. I knew you wouldn’t want to leave. Besides, you always return. The note was just to make sure you didn’t do anything too reckless.” Eijiro huffs and looks away, standing.

“Takara, this is serious! These quests are always dangerous! I could have died and you would- -I would have left you alone with our child and have never even known you were expecting!” I stand.

“Eijiro, please. I didn’t tell you because distracting you was not the solution to ensure you come home. I know you always fight to make sure you survive, so, at the time, I didn’t think adding pressure to your shoulders was a good idea.” He sighs, takes a breath, then chuckles and turns back around.

“Takara…you constantly amaze me.” He murmurs, sighing heavily and wrapping his arms around me from behind. I lean back into his chest.

“Eijiro, if I’m being completely honest, this pregnancy scares me.” I confess, tears suddenly in my eyes. “I mean, I love our life and I already love our child, but…I just…” The tears spill over and I can’t help succumbing to the sobs in my throat.

“Takara, look at me, please.” I do, wiping my eyes. “You’ll be fine. I promise.” I let out a sigh and bite my lip.

“I know. I just…it’s a new life I’m making.” I reply, shaking my head in awe, rubbing my stomach, despite there not being a noticeable bump there.

Eijiro puts his hand over mine and I look at his eyes, teary with joy. “I know it’s unexpected, and I know it’s scary, but we can do this. Together.”

I take a breath and lean my forehead against his. “Together.” We sat there for a while, basking in the knowledge of my pregnancy and our love.

Since I had met him passing through town, we had formed a connection stronger than either of us realized until he’d had to leave to help his friend on a quest. In these times, quests weren’t uncommon, but Eijiro seemed to want to help in every single quest, but he always came back to me, safe and relatively uninjured, thanks to his dragon form.

I suppose the old saying ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ was true.

We were married after his third quest and I remained in the house Eijiro and I had built, directly into a cave so he could add whatever reward he hadn’t been able to say no to to a pile. It wasn’t a lot, as he hardly ever accepted rewards, but what we had was enough. Of course, being half-dragon, he sometimes wished he had a hoard enough to full the cave, but I always laughed and talked him down. He was never a greedy person, and it was one of the many things I loved about him.

=#=#=#=#=

“How about Senshi, if it’s a boy?” Eijiro asks as we lay on our flat roof porch, stargazing. I chuckle. ‘Warrior’ was a good name. We’d been thinking of names over the last two months, and Eijiro only left on necessity while I remained with child.

“I like it! What about Sakura if it’s a girl?” Eijiro laughs.

“Of course!” I then feel the child shift and move around. I gasp and grab Eijiro’s hand. He always wanted to feel the baby move. He got this adoring look in his eyes and was very excited. “Wow! They’re moving more now!” I groan.

“Yeah. I noticed.” I mock-grumble, chuckling a little. “It’s getting more frequent, Eiji.” I note, biting my lip. “We’re getting closer to the due date. I’m getting worried! What if something happens?!” It wasn’t frequent, but occasionally, I couldn’t help but worry. With Eijiro being half-dragon, it was unknown if our child was going to be fully human or if he or she would take after their father, and how our combined genetics would affect our child.

Eijiro was always there to reassure me, however, no matter how many times this happened. He gently grabs my hand.

“We’ve talked about this. Your mother will be right there when you’re delivering and for the first fortnight. Your father will be here, too. It’ll be okay.” I take a deep breath.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It’ll be okay.” It didn’t really ease my worry, but I had to stop dragging the mood down. I sigh contentedly, cuddling up to him.. “I love you, Eijiro.”

“I love you, too, Takara.”

=#=#=#=#=

The next day, I was humming to myself as I made breakfast while Eijiro went to go get more water for the day.

Upon hearing footsteps coming into the house, I grin. “Hey, you’re just in time!” I call, coming toward the entrance room. “Eijiro, the baby- -” I stop short. The man in the doorway was not my husband. It was a blonde man with a fur-trimmed cape and multiple necklaces. He was from the WIldling tribe, in the woods. A alleged ruffian tribe with little concept of laws and order. I back up a bit, swallowing and putting my hand on the handle of the dagger Eijiro made me wear on my belt. “You’re not Eijiro.” I mumble stupidly. The man scoffs.

“Obviously. Who the hell are you?!” I frown.

“I’m Takara, Eijiro’s wife, asshole. Who are you?!” I shoot back. This guy was incredibly rude, barging into my house like he owns it.

“Eijiro’s married?!” I am taken aback.

“You know Eijiro?!”

“I’m the leader of our group! Hell yeah I know him! He’s one of our strongest fighters!” The man counters. My eyes go wide and my hand leaves the dagger. Eijiro had mentioned his leader a few times.

“Wait…you wouldn’t be Katsuki Bakugo the Untamable Dragon King, would you?” I ask, paling a little. This guy was volatile already and I’d just gotten snippy with him. Shit!

“Who else would I be?!” Katsuki snaps, crossing his arms, then suddenly he smirks, scoffing. “You know, it’s about time I metcha. Eijiro won’t shut up about you and yer brat.” I glare at him.

“Watch your mouth about my child, Katsuki.” I growl, protective hand on my stomach and the other back on my dagger handle. He laughs.

“Alright, alright. Look, I have a deer outside for you two lovebirds. I already have more than enough meat, so I figured you two could use it.” I smile.

“Thanks. Well, Eiji’s out getting water, so you can wait for him.” Katsuki grumbles, but sits in a chair moodily, propping his chin on his hand. We wait in silence.

“How’d you two meet, anyway?” I chuckle, sitting across from Bakugo.

“Well, I was going to get a few things for dinner and he bumped into me. He apologized and decided to stay with me while I shopped and we got to talking. He was very sweet and respectful and I found him very likable. I guess you could say the rest was history.” I chuckle, absently rubbing my swollen stomach, then suddenly I feel an increase of heat in my stomach and groan, squeezing my eyes shut against the discomfort.

“Hey, lady! You okay?!” Katsuki calls, and I open my eyes to find him torn between irritated and confused and concerned. I wince and shift into a more comfortable position as the feeling subsides.

“I’m okay. I just…I think the kid already knows how to breathe fire.” I grumble, rubbing my stomach again. I hear a gasp and some heavy something hit the floor. I turn my head and see Eijiro standing there, eyes wide and shocked, the water jug forgotten at his feet.

“Are you serious?!” He squeals happily, running over and kissing me soundly. I chuckle into the kiss and reply eagerly.

“I think so.” I say when we finally break apart. Eijiro scoops me up and gives me a few small twirls before plopping down with me in his lap.

“Oh, that’s so amazing!” I grin, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“No, it’s nauseating. Please stop.” Katsuki groans before I can speak. I roll my eyes.

“Don’t be jealous cus you’re single, Your Highness.” I poke my tongue at him and he’s instantly on his feet.

“What did you say?!” Eijiro moves before I realize and suddenly, Eijiro and Katsuki are glaring at each other.

“Watch yourself around my Mate, Katsuki.” He growls. I stand.

“Eijiro, honey, please. Let him be.” I plead gently, hand on his forearm. “Let’s go get the deer prepared for dinner.” I suggest and Eijiro huffs, but wraps his arm protectively around me as we move to go outside. I roll my eyes.

He was the best man I’d ever met, but sometimes he became a little too possessive and protective. However, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love him and can’t wait to meet our child.

If anyone wants me to do more of this, I’d be happy to! Just send in an idea and I’d be super duper happy to write it up for you!

#fanfiction #Requested One Shot #bnha #mha #bnha oc #oc #original character #original female character #my hero academia #eijiro kirishima #eijiro kirishima x oc #Takara Yamada #Eijiro Kirishima X Takara Yamada

[raspberryparker]

someday | five

college!au spidey x fem!reader

← previous | series masterlist | next → word count: 5,558 summary: UPDATED! i changed the end of the chapter so please read it again even if you already have! i was not happy with this at all so i fixed it.  warnings: see masterlist read it on ao3 add yourself to my taglist!

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   There weren’t a lot of things that George hated.

   Despite his rather irritated and occasionally aggressive demeanour (which he attributed to his perpetually annoyed facial expression), he actually did manage to find the good in almost everything. He definitely didn’t look like it, but he’d consider himself a ‘silver lining’ kind of man. Though in his line of work, he didn’t find many of those, unfortunately.

   There was one thing, however, that he hated more than anything else, especially in his workplace.

   And that was secrecy.

   There was definitely something going on, and it most certainly wasn’t any form of ‘animal attacks’, which was what the public relations office told all the precincts to claim the recent accidents were. Apparently it had come from their higher-ups, so there was next to nothing anyone could do about it, but it didn’t mean the captain had to like it.

   Something was just not right about the whole thing. And although his precinct was at the heart of where the incidents began to occur and he’d been placed in charge of the investigation, there was an increasing feeling of ‘no, that can’t be’ whenever he thought about the whole situation.

   Rubbing his temples, he let out a sigh, looking at the pile of paperwork on his desk that he’d yet to sort through after the most recent… ‘accident’. Although the perpetrator of these crimes (if ‘perpetrator’ was even close to an adequate word) didn’t have a distinguishable modus operandi, George had a creeping suspicion of the type of people they were going after. When Alan Montgomery was found dead in his home by his cleaning staff, eviscerated in a way all too similar to the previous victims, the captain was almost disappointed in himself. He should have known the wealthy connoisseur be a target. Pulling him from his thoughts, the knock at his office door was a welcome change from the deafening silence he’d been sitting in for the past couple of hours, and he called for whoever it was to come in.

   “Sorry to disturb you, sir, I know you’re busy.”

   With a timid grin, the new receptionist stood in the doorway with her hands clutched in front of her chest. It was still Lisa’s first month, and she hadn’t fully gotten used to her position.

   “No worries,” the captain said. “What do you need?”

   “Commissioner Johnston is on line three?” she told him, though the upturn in    her tone at the end made it sound more like a question. “It sounded pretty urgent.”

   “Thank you,” he smiled softly. “I’ll answer in a moment.”

   Lisa nodded quickly and ducked out of the office door, her red ponytail whipping around as she shut it behind her. George sighed, knowing just what he was in for as he reached for the receiver sitting to the right of his desk. He paused just before he grabbed it, his hand suspended in the air above it. He took a deep breath, and then picked up the receiver, pressing the button for the third line next to the blinking red hold light.

   “This is Captain George Stacy.” He tried to sound as professional as he could, despite the ever growing concern he was afraid would come through in his voice.

   “Captain Stacy, Commissioner Johnston.” A gruff, monotonous voice that he knew far better than he would have liked to greeted him. “I trust you’re doing well?”

“As well as I can be, sir,” George replied, repressing his sigh. “I’m sure you’re aware of how the investigation is going thus far.”

   “Ah, yes, well that’s why I called,” the commissioner explained. There was something in his voice that George couldn’t quite place. It was something akin to irritation or annoyance, but then again the commissioner was never a very expressive person. “I’ve already contacted the other precincts involved to inform them, but I will need you and the detectives you have working the cases to come to an impromptu meeting here at headquarters.”

   “Of course, sir. When would you like us to be there?”

   “It would be best if you arrived as soon as you could,” Johnston said. There it was again, that… something. He was frustrated. “There is a sudden need to discuss the new— the complexity of the investigation.”

   George was silent for a moment as he took in the unspoken words that passed between them. “I understand.”

   “Good. When you arrive, Deputy Commissioner Gardner will be there to escort you.”

   “Of course. I’ll see you shortly, then.”

   “Thank you.”

   Even after he’d hung up the phone, he sat there for a moment wondering just what could be so important that the commissioner had called him personally— and called everyone else. That man’s job was a busy one, and he didn’t exactly have the time to be personally invested in what all the precincts were up to. But at the same time, this was a rather unconventional situation in many ways.

   He decided there was nothing to be done. Not yet, anyway.

   Standing from his desk, he smoothed the creases of his uniform jacket and stepped out into the bullpen. The familiar ambient chatter of the officers and detectives, multiple phones ringing at once and the odd shout from someone who’d been detained was almost comforting to the captain. The precinct was his second home.

   “Lisa, I have a meeting with the Commissioner at headquarters,” he informed her as he passed her desk. “While I’m away, anything that would have come to me goes to Sergeant—”

   “Hughes, yes,” Lisa interrupted with a smile, her freckled face glowing with pride at the fact that she’d remembered. “She’s in charge while you’re away. I remember.”

   “Excellent. If it’s urgent, though, you can call my cell.”

   “Have a safe trip, sir.”

   As he passed by the desks throughout the floor, he called to the two detectives he had placed on the investigation.

   “Flores, Crawford— let’s go.”

   He didn’t even have to turn to see the smile on Detective Crawford’s face as she grabbed her jacket and slung her badge around her neck.

   “Oh Hell yeah, field trip!” she exclaimed. “Where we goin’, capitan?”

   “Headquarters,” he informed her, pressing the button next to the elevator that would take them down to their small parking garage. “Everyone working the recent cases was called for a meeting with the Commissioner.”

   “Are we in trouble?” Flores questioned from behind him. He sounded almost frightened.

   “I doubt it; you’ve both done an excellent job so far.”

   They clambered into the elevator, and although the air around the captain was almost buzzing with nerves, he could feel the excited energy radiating off the young female detective in the car with them.

   “Man, I haven’t been up there in a while,” she said. “Can we take my car?”

   “No,” George deadpanned. The last time he rode in her car she almost killed them both and the runaway suspect they were chasing. He wouldn’t be caught dead in that car, which was exactly how he suspected he’d end up if he took her up on the offer.

   “You’re no fun.”

   “Have you met him?” Flores joked.

   When they reached the garage, they all got in to the captain’s sedan and, following Flores and Crawford’s childish dispute for who got to ride shotgun (why were they working the case again?), the three of them set off en route to One Police Plaza.

   They were, however, entirely unaware of the masked web-slinger swinging in the air a short distance away, following close behind.

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   “Ned, I can’t hear anything.”

   “That’s not my problem. Why don’t you ask Karen since you love her so much?”

   With a roll of his eyes, Peter sighed, “Karen, can you get me ears on that conversation?”

   The cheerful, polite voice in his suit he’d grown accustomed to over the past five years responded in an automated chirp almost instantly.

   “I apologize, Peter, but that conversation is outside the maximum distance for my receivers.”

   “This is ridiculo— Ned are you eating?!”

   “Yeah,” Ned replied, voice muffled and full of whatever he was snacking on. “I’m eating the granola bars you hide under your bed. Total rookie move, by the way, that’s the first place anyone would look. Consider it my revenge.”

   Peter almost slipped off the lamppost he was perched on as he scrambled to reply to Ned.

   “Hey! Don’t eat too many of those or you’ll get sick. And stop going through my stuff!”

   “Calm down, I was only gonna have one anyway,” Ned said in annoyance. “I’ve been stuck in your room for a while and I got hungry. You can’t blame me, especially when you buy the ones that are really good. These things are like crack.”

   With a huff at his best friend’s attitude, Peter pressed two fingers to his temple next to the edge of his mask lenses, zooming in his heads-up display on a window almost two blocks away.

   He could clearly see Captain Stacy and the two detectives that he’d brought with him from the precinct along with him in a small conference room on the eighth floor of the police headquarters. They and a few others, who Peter could only assume were other captains and detectives from different precincts based on their uniforms (or lack thereof in the detective’s cases), were seated at a long rectangular table, the Deputy Police Commissioner sitting next to the head of the table, which remained empty. All of them were talking amongst themselves, but without being able to hear them, there was little Peter could infer as he watched them speak. He wasn’t exactly the best at reading lips.

   Just then, Commissioner Johnston (with whom Spider-Man had had a few unfortunate run-ins in the past) entered the room and stood at the head of the table. He addressed the group, before sitting with them.

   “Oh my God, Ned, we’re wasting time!” Peter exclaimed. He was growing frustrated. “Can you do something? Please?!”

   All of this would have been avoided if Peter had just kept his mouth shut on the way to the Civic Centre.

   He’d made an offhand remark about how Karen (so, in other words, Stark’s suit tech) was the most useful thing he’d ever had as Spider-Man. Ned happened to take personal offence to this. But wouldn’t anyone if they’d stayed up countless nights developing new software systems for their best friend’s suit, constructing helpful gadget bots to accompany him as he did his thing, and overall just putting up with the stress that came with having a best friend like Peter who endangered himself every day?

   Ned had argued, calling Peter a ‘meanie-butt’ as if they were twelve again, and refusing to help him with the task at hand. And, stupidly, Peter’s had but a simple “fine,” in response.

   Big mistake.

   “You know, if you were still dating Gwen, you wouldn’t even have to—”

   “Yes, well, I’m not anymore, so I can’t,” Peter interrupted. His brow furrowed as he angrily recalled how his last relationship ended.

   “Jeez, sorry,” Ned said sarcastically, mouth still full of food and voice sounding distorted by the comm system. “I’m just saying.”

   “Instead of saying shit like that, can you at least try to help me, please?”

   “Hm, okay.” Peter felt himself relax finally at Ned’s agreement. “But only if you admit that you wouldn’t be where you are without me.”

   “What?”

   “And promise me you won’t replace me with Karen.”

   “Ned you’re being ridiculous.”

   “Maybe I should go over to Y/N’s, then,” he said, and Peter could hear him get up from the desk chair as if he were about to leave. “She’d probably be better company than you right now.”

   “Alright!” Peter sighed, bringing a palm up over his masked face. “I promise.”

   Whatever would make him help, right?

   “Was that so hard?”

   Gritting his teeth at Ned’s stubbornness (even thought that was one of the reasons they worked so well together), Peter decided to try his best at deciphering what the commissioner was saying as his best friend’s typing sounded through the comm line. He wondered just how Ned was planning to help him hear what they were saying. It had been a while since he’d tinkered with technology, taking more interest in the chemical and biological aspects of science.

   “What’s taking so long?” Peter asked, but he didn’t mean for it to sound as harsh as it did.

   “Hey, stop complaining,” Ned replied. “It’s not my fault you broke Droney ‘cause you’re lazy.”

   “In my defence, I was sick.”

   “Sure,” Ned replied, dragging out the word in sarcasm.

   Peter remembered that day with distaste, the day he’d been bed-ridden and had to miss all of his classes because he stayed out too long in the rain the night before and he’d caught a cold. Ned, feeling bad for him and being the great friend he was, bought him pizza from his favourite parlour and brought it to the dorm for him.

   But Ned had been running late for his next lecture and Peter was too exhausted to go down and get the pizza, so he instructed Ned to stand below his window. He’d slapped on his suit’s mask and made the small spider drone go get it.

   He learned the hard way that Droney wasn’t exactly designed to do heavy lifting.

   “I feel kinda bad, though. Poor little guy.”

   “If he’s dead it’s your fault for not getting your ass outta bed.”

   “He’s not dead! You can fix him, right?” Peter asked, his worries coming through in his tone.

   “Of course I can, who do you think I am?” Ned scoffed. “But what would you rather I do first: fix Droney or get you ears in that room?”

   Peter found it best to shut up in that moment.

   He listened as Ned continued to type up a storm, probably running some code through one of his many programs. At long last he explained what he was doing.

   “You’re lucky your suit gets good cell reception. I managed to intercept a call from the commissioner’s cellphone and re-route the radio transmission right to your suit.”

   “Who’s he calling?” Peter asked

   “Me! Well actually, no one, really. Because the phone’s connected to the wifi in the building, I was able to turn it on remotely and then override the calling system. So it’s just transmitting what the mic picks up and not receiving any waves from a connecting call. Meaning, we can hear him but he can’t hear us.”

   “You’re a genius.”

   “Tell that to Professor Howard. The highest mark he’s ever given me is an eighty-six.”

   Peter waited impatiently as Ned worked his magic. He had a point thought; he almost certainly never would have gotten anywhere near where he was in life without Ned by his side. He owed so much to him.

   “Okay,” Ned muttered. “Patching us through… now.”

   “—and it is imperative that you treat this meeting with the utmost confidentiality.”

   They caught on the end of the commissioner’s sentence, his tone low and serious. Peter watched as Captain Stacy shuffled in his seat, the rest of the people in the room nodding.

   “Good. Now, I suppose there’s no point dawdling so I’ll get straight to the point,” Johnston went on. “It is no surprise to me that you all are having trouble with this investigation. Even the city’s best detectives can’t seem to profile the perpetrator. And yes, I should clear it up— the ‘animal attacks’ were just a ruse. We fully believe there is a person behind these deaths.”

   One of the detectives Captain Stacy had brought with him, the woman, nudged her partner to the left of her and muttered, “Told ‘ya.”

   Peter snickered as their captain shot her a sharp look.

   “I have been asked by the mayor to inform you of the intricacy of this situation. As much as the public relations office has tried to keep it out of the spotlight of the media, it has been hard to stop public speculation. Unfortunately, they haven’t been entirely off the mark.”

   Peter’s eyes widened as he listened to the commissioner explains what exactly had happened.

   The murdered men (who they could now say with certainty were murdered) had all had some sort of criminal affiliation in their past. But all of their wrongdoings, however, had been covered up, whether it was by dirty cops, by lawyers, or by their own personal security teams. There was a hint in his tone that Peter didn’t recognize, but it had the men and women in the conference room wide eyed and shocked. It appeared they’d all been part of some sort of organized crime, and by that he most likely meant the mob.

   The first one to come to mind for Peter was, of course, the Maggia. Considering the confrontation he had with Hammerhead a couple days prior, it was no surprise to him that something had been going on.

   But it would seem that it was an outsider who was now coming in and wreaking havoc. He went on to explain that they believed he was ‘wiping out the competition’, planning an active takeover of all organized crime in the city.  

   Captain Stacy stood then, after the Commissioner had finished explaining.

   “Sir, if you don’t mind,” he began.

   The commissioner nodded for him to continue.

   “Well, with the recent rise in ‘superheros’ and people with extraordinary powers, strength, abilities and the like… it wouldn’t be too ludicrous to assume that this perp might also have one or more of those aspects.”

   The look on the commissioner’s face was one of utter irritation.

   “Stacy,” he said. “Are you suggesting that this is another mutant, ‘super villain’ thing?”

   “In short, yes.”

   “Then I would have to say that yes, it would be too ludicrous.”

   The captain’s brows furrowed in concern at Johnston’s response. “Sir—”

   “Captain Stacy, I know you’ve had your problems in the past with people like that, and truly, you have my condolences for the incident with Dr. Connors— it was very fortunate that… the wall-crawler saved your life.” Johnston said (Peter smirked at the reference; he’d forgotten how adamant the commissioner was about refusing to say the word ‘Spider-Man’). “But you cannot possibly be suggesting that this is another instance of that.”

   “I’m afraid I am, sir,” Stacy said, looking serious. “With the way the victims were killed and all factors considered, I don’t think that would be too far off.”

   “If it really was something like that,” Johnston went on, looking angrier by the second. “Wouldn’t those so-called Avengers already be taking care of it? It would be in their line of work, would it not?”

   “What if they’re not aware that this is serious in that way?”

   “Captain Stacy, I am sorry, but I’m afraid that that is enough.”

   Peter noticed the way the captain’s jaw clenched as he took his seat again, looking down at his hands balled into fists in his lap.

   “Anybody else have any ridiculous suggestions?” the deputy commissioner asked. He looked around at the table. They all avoided eye contact with him.

   All of a sudden, Karen switched the heads-up display in his suit monitor to infrared, changing Peter’s view and focusing on the figures outlined in red that were approaching the room.

   “There appear to be four unknown persons approaching,” she informed him.

   “Run a facial recognition through police records once they’re in eyesight,” Peter instructed.

   It turned out, however, that that would be unnecessary.

   The four men entered the room, each of them neatly dressed in black suits. The commissioner looked at them quizzically, as if he wasn’t expecting them. With a smile, the one if front introduced the group.

   “Hello,” he said. “Sorry to intrude on this meeting but we were hoping to speak to Commissioner Johnston.”

   “And who exactly are you?” the commissioner asked.

   “We’re from S.H.I.E.L.D.” the man replied, a pleased grin on his face.

   At this, the commissioner’s eyes widened, and he looked at the rest of the group. “I think I’m going to have to cut this meeting short. Deputy Commissioner Gardner, if you could escort them out.”

   There were confused looks on the faces of the people in the room as the deputy commissioner ushered them out of the door. Even he looked back at Johnston with a confused look in his face, mouthing ‘who are these guys?’ as he stepped out of the room.

   Johnston could do nothing but shake his head.

   When the room was empty save for the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and the commissioner, Johnston turned to them with a tight lipped frown.

   “Gentlemen,” he began. “What can I help you with?”

   “We couldn’t help but overhear what Captain Stacy mentioned to you earlier,” one of them said. Peter frowned. They hadn’t even been close to the room when Stacy had mentioned mutated villains. Had they bugged the rooms? Or done something similar to Ned?

   “We’re sad to have to burst your bubble, but he may be right.”

   The look of utter confusion on the commissioner’s face brought a smile to Peter’s. If there was anything he like more than stopping crime, it was messing with ol’ stick-in-the-mud Johnston. Just the fact that these agents were basically telling ‘you’re wrong’ made him laugh.

   “We thought that you should be made aware of a not-so recent development that might help with the investigation.”

   “I’m open to suggestions,” Johnston sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

   “Two months ago, during September, there was a break in at Oscorp Industries. Nothing serious was stolen, but we do know that Oscorp is responsible for the incident with Dr. Curtis Connors. We have decided to step in just to ensure nothing like that happens again.”

   “You’ve got to be— why weren’t the police informed of that break in?” Johnston questioned, frustrated.

   “Mr. Osborn preferred to keep it under wraps, so to speak,” the agent said.

   The commissioner sighed deeply, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked at the agents standing before him and jerked his head toward the entrance. “Meet me in my office.”

   He left the room, grumbling the whole time about stupid, muddling agents and their stupid organizations. The agents were muttering amongst themselves, but since the commissioner had left and took his phone with him, Peter couldn’t hear what they were saying.

   “Ned—” Peter began, but was cut off as his best friend had already got a head start on what he was about to ask him.

   “On it,” he said, the familiar clack of his keyboard ringing in the comm line. “They bugged the room. I don’t know where it is exactly, but it’s wireless. I can tap into it for you.”

   “What would I do without you?”

   “Oh, now you appreciate me. Suck my dick, Parker, you’re such a kiss-ass.”

  “Anything for you,” Peter singsonged, knowing it’d get under Ned’s skin.

   “I hate you.”

   “Yes, that’s why you put up with me.”

   “I regret everything.”

   Peter laughed to himself, adjusting his position on the lamppost. It was a motion sensor light, and so far no one had walked on the sidewalk underneath it so he was completely hidden in the evening darkness. He gripped the edge of the metal, his fingers adhering and securing his grip.

   “Okay, we should have audio….” Ned muttered.

   A crackling sound was heard through the line, before the distorted audio cleared itself up. The agents were discussing something and it sounded important.

   “We can’t let the police get suspicious,” the one who’d done all of the talking (Peter assumed he was their leader or at least the agent in charge) said. “Under no circumstances are you to disclose any information to them without consulting me first.”

   “Sir, what about the break-in suspect?” another asked.

   “He’s being dealt with,” the agent in charge said. “He was hospitalized for some time because of a stab wound he received after the fact. It appears two sources were after the vial.  There was a witness to that incident but he seemed to know nothing of the theft. He was just walking home from his job.”

   “Has Mr. Osborn told us what was in the vial?”

   “No, he still chooses to keep that to himself,” he sighed. “But knowing him it can’t be anything good. If it were to get into the wrong hands who knows what could happen. But I fear that it already has, given the recent incidents. But remember, we are here to oversee, not to interfere. Only step in if someone gets too suspicious or starts making crazy assumptions. We still need to let them do their jobs.”

   “Yes, sir.”

   As they stepped out of the room, Peter heard Ned whistle into his ear.

   “Well, well, well,” he said. “Weird substance from Oscorp that can’t be let into the wrong hands? Is this what they call deja vu?”

   “We don’t know for sure that that’s what it is,” Peter said. “That could have nothing to do with it.”

   “How much do you want to bet that it has everything to do with it?” Ned laughed. “I’m in for a hundred.”

   “I’m not taking that bet.”

   “Oh yeah, because you know that I’m right. Just admit it.”

   Peter shook his head, watching in infrared as all five men gathered in Commissioner Johnston’s office a few floors below. They were probably feeding him a load of bullshit. There was no point in being there any longer.

   “Okay, I’m heading back,” Peter announced, shooting a web towards a building above him and pulling himself up through the air.

   “Sweet, now I get to sleep,” Ned sighed, and for dramatic effect, added a yawn. “You know thanks to you, my sleeping schedule went to shit.”

   “You realize I don’t have a sleeping schedule, right?” Peter laughed. He had to raise his voice so that ned could hear him over the sound of the cars passing below him.

   “Yeah, but you’re you.” He sounded farther away. Peter could only assume he’d gotten up from the desk and moved to the bed as he usually did. “You’re Spider-Man, and whatever.”

   “And whatever,” Peter repeated with a laugh.

   Sure, he was Spider-Man. 

   No big deal.

━━━━━━━━

   He never expected the moment of hesitation that came with arriving at his building.

   After coming down from the high arch off the building next to it, he rolled softly onto the roof and landed in a crouch. Standing and stretching, his mind suddenly recalled the first time he’d laid eyes on Y/N and the circumstances under which they had met, and he stilled.

   She’d been in the common room, fast asleep with a book on her lap an expression so full of peace and tranquility, it had made Peter almost envious. How he’d wished to be able to sleep like that.

   He’d stood there in the hallway, all bloody and broken, leaning against the wall and just admiring her. He realized after the fact that it was probably very creepy to have done that and had to resist the urge to physically hit his head against a wall in embarrassment, but in the moment he’d just been staring. She was so open and honest like that. There was even a little bit of drool hanging from the corner of her lips, which made Peter grin to himself.

   He must have gotten too distracted, because his grip loosened for only a moment and caused him to almost fall and shout in pain, which was what ended up waking her.

   He remembered the look of absolute horror on her face when she saw the state he was in.

   And then, as an afterthought, he recalled the look of worry on her face when she asked if it was a thing that he did on a daily basis. Which left him wondering… was she waiting for him?

   That was how Peter once again found himself tugging his backpack free from the webs on the brick wall of the alley, though this time he was (mostly) uninjured. In the darkness, he stripped off his suit and tugged on a loose pair of jeans and one of his old Midtown Tech crewnecks, hurriedly stuffing the red and blue material into the bag. He’d remembered to pack shoes this time.

   His heart pounded as his stomach sank with the rise of the elevator car. He hadn’t even planned ahead yet, hadn’t thought of what he would actually do if she was in fact waiting for him. But what would he do if she wasn’t?

   Holding his breath as he stepped out onto the sixth floor, he couldn’t recognize the feeling in his gut as he saw the outlining of Y/N’s frame curled into a corner of the couch. Was it relief? Was it anxiety? Or was it something completely different? Whatever it was, there was something in him that made his hands shake as he stepped toward the common room.

   She must have heard his footsteps, because she whipped her head around toward him with a wide eyed, worried expression.

   She looked so cozy. Her elbow was propped on one of the arms of the couch, her chin resting on her fist.

   Peter was aware of her gaze raking him up and down, looking at his body and checking for a limp or other signs of injury. When it seemed she found none, the tension in her shoulders released and she let out a sigh. She smiled softly at him through the glass.

   He must have been feeling exceptionally brave, because honestly there was nothing that could have possessed him to actually enter the common room if he had been in his right mind. His throat felt dry and his hands still hadn’t stopped shaking.

   Maybe this was a bad idea.

   “Hey,” he muttered. It felt appropriate for his voice to be soft as it was already quit late and dark outside, even thought he was sure that it wouldn’t have made a difference if he’d been a little louder. “What are you doing up? It’s late.”

   Y/N’s smile fell for a moment as she looked away, and even in the dim light (because she hadn’t bothered to turn on the ceiling light and was sitting only next to a lamp) he could see the way her cheeks took on a rosy hue.

   “I was…” she began, looking out the window. “I— I couldn’t sleep.”

   The hairs at the back of Peter’s neck stood on end as they usually did when someone wasn’t telling him the truth. But what reason did she have to lie to him?

   “Yeah?” he asked. This was awkward, to say the least.

   “Yeah,” she replied. “It’s better than my room, I guess.”

   He stood there for a moment longer, the tension between them so thick you couldn’t get through it with a hatchet if you tried, before he breathed in sharply through his nose and took a plunge he never thought he’d take.

   “Do you wanna…  take a walk with me?” he asked, jerking his thumb back toward the elevator. “I wanna show you something. And it might tire you out some more so you can sleep when you get back.”

   There was hesitation in her expression.

   He should have expected it. After all, she did think he was a criminal. He held his breath once again as she regarded him with a scrutinizing expression, deciding on her response.

   “Okay,” she said finally. “I just gotta go to my room and grab a sweater.”

   “Y-yeah, sure.”

   Peter almost couldn’t believe she’d agreed to go with him as he waited for her in the common room to return with her sweater. He probably should have grabbed a jacket too, but was too shell-shocked to really think about just how cold he’d get on their walk.

   It was still crazy to think about.

   She was going on a walk with him. At night. After she’d waited up for him. Of course, she hadn’t admitted to it and she could very well have been telling the truth about not being able to sleep, but Peter wanted to believe that she cared about him even a little the same way he cared about her.

   He spotted her in the hall in front of the elevator, waving at him to follow. Peter scrambled out of the glass doors and met her halfway, standing in front of the silver elevator doors as she pressed the button to go down.

   “You okay?” she asked.

   “Yeah, fine,” he muttered, looking at his shoes. “You?”

   “I’m great.”

   He glanced up at her then, and he swore his heart nearly stopped.

   She was looking at the elevator doors as they opened, the softest, most genuine smile on her lips that he’d ever seen. He looked at her wide eyed as she stepped inside the car. She was still grinning.

   “Come on, then,” she said. It felt like Peter’s feet were cemented to the floor underneath him. He couldn’t move.

   But when she tilted her head at him in confusion, a lopsided grin on her lips at his strange attitude, he managed to will himself forward.

   “Let’s go.”

   Yeah. Let’s.

━━━━━━━━

she was totally waiting for him and freaking out aagshljshdougdo

A/N: the extent of my knowledge on the way the NYPD works comes from watching every episode of brooklyn 99 twice and it’s probably very obvious... i mean i’m canadian and i don’t even know the difference between the RCMP and the normal cops so don’t look at me

also ned is a lil baby and he’s very defensive of his work i am a Proud Mother

(this one was pretty dialogue heavy and idk how i feel about it... lemme know what you think? it’d really help)

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[wumpusandzandii]

Science and Progress: Chapter One

TMNT Human!AU Storyline for Donatello x Lily

Chapter One

Being part of a large family was a blessing and a curse. Everyone seems to fill a roll, and the family rolls on like a machine, sometimes well-oiled, sometimes like a train wreck, depending on the day. When that roll is the one that has family members asking for help, whether it be answering questions or fixing things, the feeling is amplified. There is a sense of validation with being able to help, to sometimes have answers to problems before they even became an issue. On the flip side of that coin, it can mean that simple problems easily solved by common sense or a quick Google search are often presented, and pile up over time.

Such was Donatello’s day, and it wasn’t even noon yet. Their morning training had been over for a while, but there were still hours to go before their afternoon classes. Splinter had left on one of his walks, and the home situation had devolved quickly thereafter. All he wanted to do was sit at his computers and get some research done on possible upgrades to his holo, but it was nearly impossible with his brothers in the same space. Leo and Raph were arguing, which was not at all a shocking surprise, but certainly a weary annoyance. Mikey had taken the opportunity to play his video games at full volume without his headphones on so he “could still talk to everyone,” which, with the other two bickering, meant talking to *him*. He tried keeping his headphones on to tune it all out, but Mikey had started throwing things when he didn’t answer, so the headphones only caused more trouble than they were worth.

“You’re missing the entire point, we need you here more,” Leo tried to reason, his voice as strained as his patience.

“Jesus Christ, Leo, I’m a phone call away. I have my gear, it’s not that far,” Raph snapped back loudly. “I’m not a fuckin’ kid.”

“I’m not saying you are! I’m saying we need you here, ready to go, just in case. It made sense while Stacey was healing up, but she’s in her new place and Donnie has it all set up. It’s been months. It’s time to get back to normal,” Leo argued, and Donnie winced to himself. He’d been waiting for that bomb to drop their entire argument, and there it was. If there was one surefire way to set Raph off ever, it was to bring her up in any kind of negative aspect. Surely Leo knew that, had to have known it wouldn’t gain him any ground, so he wasn’t sure why he took that route.

“Maybe it is my new normal,” Raph hissed, his voice lowering to dangerous levels.

“Hey Donnie,” Mikey piped up over the loud crashing and sound effects of his game. “Do you know if there are any new texture packs or skins I can add to this? Like, it’d be totally awesome if I could put a different skin over the boss, make killing him funny. Like a Kardashian, boom, the lips explode or something.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose and resting his elbows against the desk, Donnie sighed heavily. “I don’t know, Mikey,” he said in a long suffering tone. “Why don’t you look it up?”

“Because you’re right therrrre,” he begged, looking over the back of the couch with a pout and batting his eyes. “Hey, maybe you could show me how to do it? Then we could make a Shredder skin or something, crush his helmet against his crotch.”

Donnie couldn’t think of much else he’d have less patience for right at that moment, than trying to teach Mikey how to code, let alone create skins. “It’s not quite that simple-”

“I’m gonna spend as much time as I damn well please with her, and there ain’t a damn thing you can do about it! You ain’t the boss of my life!”

“No, but I am the leader of this time, and not having you available puts everyone else at increased risk and responsibility, just so can go sleep with-”

“Don’t you dare fuckin’ finish that sentence, Leo, or I’m gonna finish it for you.”

“If it’s not that simple, maybe you could just do it for me? I could totally write a list of people or characters that it would be cool to have skins of, and then you could just bleep bloop do your thing, no trouble!”

“Mikey, I have more important things to do-”

“Is that a threat?” Leo snarled.

“If it needs to be.”

“What could be more important than creating a Kraang mega boss that I could shoot to pieces? I mean, just think about the glory and beauty of it!”

“Fucking Merlin’s beard!” Donnie cursed, shoving his rolling chair back away from his desk and lurching up onto his feet. “What the hell is wrong with all of you? Can’t you just be normal or at the very least *quiet* for five damn minutes? I understand the hashi now, and why dad leaves to go walk by himself. I used to think it was for reflection and meditation, but it’s gotta be to GET AWAY FROM YOU!”

Storming into his room, he grabbed up his messenger bag, stuffed his laptop into it angrily. Pulling on the first hoodie he found, he slung the bag on and marched out of his room, straight towards the door. The room had fallen silent, he noted with sardonic irony.

“Hey, where are you going?” Mikey asked, sounding a little hurt.

“To the library, where they *force* people to be quiet!” he snapped, slamming the door behind him.

Forgoing any public form of transportation, Donnie decided to walk to the library. It was a decent distance away, but not so much to be excessive. In any case, he figured giving himself time to cool off before he got there was probably a good idea. It was difficult to focus when he was that agitated, and it would simply ruin the entire reason he was leaving in the first place. In further thought, he figured it was probably a good thing to get out, it might give him a different perspective on ideas than usual. The fresh air certainly didn’t hurt anything, either.

Upon arriving, he skipped up the steps, feeling lighter already than he had upon leaving. It had been far too long since he’d been in the library, perused the shelves, let the scent of the pages and old leather bindings suffuse his senses. Walking a little taller as he pushed through the front doors, instantly feeling the atmosphere change for the better. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, taking a deep relieving breath and wandering off to check the shelves.

Time could either stand still in the library or pass by a shooting star, quickly disappearing if oblivious to the large grandfather clock at the top of the stairs. Nearly using all of her spare time to be there, it was slowly becoming a second home, along with the lecture halls and computer labs at the university. Her own bed now a little foreign as she rarely had time to spare even on sleeping. Surrounded by folders and books, countless scrap pieces of paper and notebooks, Lily busied herself away with her coursework. Chasing the always just out of reach dream to be a veterinarian, she found herself chasing her tail to catch up, especially after joining the semester late due to moving. New York was the city of dreams, or so she was told, and moving there had been a huge decision. One she was hoping she wouldn’t regret. Finding her groove that day while listening to music quietly in her headphones, her focus solely on her work, she happily bobbed away in her seat. Her bright red hair bounced against her shoulders, loosely sectioned into pigtails with ribbon that matched her pale grey cardigan. It wasn’t a cold day, but the large hall had a chill running through it, meaning wearing just a dress was a poor idea and needed something across her shoulders to keep the chill off her pale skin. Being a frequent visitor as of late, Lily could happily leave her stuff unattended on the table knowing the staff flitting around amongst the endless rows of bookshelves would keep an eye on it for her.

Tapping her pen against her hand, she pulled the cap off the end and clicked it back on, doing so in time with the beat before sitting back. Adjusting her glasses with a gentle push of her fingertips, she nodded to herself, happy with what she had just written before moving to stand up. Thankful her mother was a seamstress, she plopped her phone into her skirt pocket, neatening the frills before pushing her chair in, careful not to make any noise since she couldn’t fully hear herself with headphones on. Checking her notes again quickly, she tottered off into the maze of shelves, beginning her hunt for a specific unit in the science section. Luckily she knew the cover of the book well, but that didn’t stop it being a grande task, especially at her height. Even the slight heel on her shoes didn’t give her much advantage. Pouting she regretted putting the book away earlier, knowing it was likely put back on a higher shelf, making it even harder for her to find.

As Donnie perused for books, a few texts already beneath his arm, he found himself with company in the next aisle. Well over a foot shorter than himself, especially once he noted the high heels that were lifted off the floor as she ran a finger over bindings well over her head, he could tell she was having some difficulty. He walked up slowly, just in case she didn’t notice him with her headphones in. Her red hair bobbed against her shoulders as she dropped back down onto her heels, hands on her hips as she sighed heavily. A bright, open, kind face greeted him as she started to look around, and he gave her a little finger wave before pointing up at the shelves above her hesitantly.

Tugging out her earbuds, she fussed with stuffing them into a skirt pocket before looking back up at him shyly. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but would you mind helping me get a book?”

“Not at all,” he responded kindly, smiling softly. She was adorable, like a little pixie wandering the science shelves. It sounded like the beginning of a fantasy novel. “Which one are you looking for?”

“Oh thank you,” she sighed in relief, her nose crinkling her freckles as she thought. “It was ‘Germ-free Life and Gnotobiology.’ I’m so sorry to ask, you probably get that a lot, being so tall.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” he admitted, for the first time that day feeling genuinely helpful and not simply convenient. Scanning the bindings, he quickly found it, scanning the cover before passing it down to her. “Are you doing research for laboratory work?”

“Oh no,” she answered, taking the book gently and hugging it against her chest. “I mean, thank you. But no, it’s a research paper for veterinary class. It’s looking over the way gnotobiotes are born, raised and taken care of in laboratory settings. Um, specifically how their immune systems are poor if they stay there, but some animals like pigs have better immune systems if they’re born in the germ-free environment and introduced to the outside environments. But oh my gosh. I’m so sorry, you probably didn’t need that much information just for pulling a book down. I get carried away.”

Chuckling a little, he couldn’t help but relate with her, and felt bad that she was apologizing for something he did himself on the daily. At the same time, the way she blushed made her even more cute. “I do that sometimes, too. Please don’t apologize, I actually find the topic very interesting. I’ve done some research on it myself.”

“Really?” she asked, her bright eyes going wide and seeming to light up. “What for?”

Realizing he hadn’t thought it through entirely, Donnie struggled with wondering if it would seem pretentious to admit ‘just because.’ Rubbing the back of his neck, he shrugged slightly, answering, “Personal research? I found another text that went into great detail, and wait, you know what? It was published more recently than that one, and it might have more relevant information for you.”

Hastily, he scanned the shelves, trying to remember where he had found it. “Ah!” he proclaimed, plucking off the shelf victoriously, bringing it back to her. “Gnotobiotics. They go into greater detail about inflammatory bowel diseases and intestinal immunity.”

“I didn’t know about this one, thank you,” she murmured, looking over it carefully, seemingly dwarfed by the two textbooks.

“If it’s useful! I’m not sure. I just remembered it,” Donnie stammered, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “If not, I can just stick it back up for you.”

Getting caught in trying to memorize the name of the author, she turned back up to him with wide eyes before hugging the book to herself. “Oh no no! I’ll definitely look at it too! Just so many names and words to remember now...” she chirped, adjusting the rather large books in her delicate hands. “The more the merrier I guess!” she added, swaying a little as she did, trying not to seem awkward but making herself look even more so by doing so. Catching the way he looked down at her, an endearing smile on his lips, she looked down at her feet. “Thank you. Sorry again for distracting you from your browsing.” Knowing her pale skin was igniting into a deep blush, she wanted to just hide away in her coursework again but couldn’t move her feet that were now cemented to the floor. “It’s really no trouble, honest, I haven’t even gotten an idea as to what I’m looking for myself yet.”

Not knowing how to excuse herself without seeming rude or just plain weird, she stammered, trying to think of something. As much as running out of any form of social interaction was her usual, keeping occupied with research and studying, something about the kindness and warmth in his eyes made her want to try. Maybe actually talking to someone and making friends wouldn’t be so bad. It’d be a welcome distraction. Maybe he could even help her. “Uhm... are you a student too?” Glancing at his bag and noticing he had some books in his hands, Lily couldn’t help but wonder now his reasoning for being there, if he had said he hadn’t an idea for something to read. Maybe it was just for personal enjoyment, maybe he was studying something similar to her. The thought of having someone to study with brought a smile to her lips again, her cheeks a rosy red that nearly matched her hair as she politely awaited his answer.

“No, not exactly,” he answered with a nervous chuckle. Looking at the books around him, he wondered if maybe he had found what he needed to after all. Talking to someone outside of his family, actually face to face couldn’t hurt anything. After all, he’d already done a decent amount of research on the topic she was studying, maybe he could help out, or at least give her someone to bounce ideas off of. If that was even something she was looking for, and not just a way out of an awkward conversation. “I do a lot of freelance work, for various people and companies. It never hurts to keep up to date on research and well… I guess it kinda makes me sound like a horrible nerd, but I actually enjoy it.”

Smiling up at him through her eyelashes, she shook her head. “No, I don’t think that makes you a horrible nerd at all!” she assured him, rocking back on her heels. “Maybe just a very good one?”

Laughing, he ran a hand through his hair, gesturing back at the books in her arms. “Well, I already did a fair amount of that research, maybe I could save you some time? If you want. If you prefer to do your studying in private, I completely understand that.”

“I would *love* some help,” she answered, her shoulders sagging a little with visible relief. “I’ve just been swamped with this course load. I feel like I’m always playing catch up, you know?”

“I think that’s the nature of research, to be frank. Do you already have your stuff set up, or should we find somewhere suitable?”

“Just over here, I left my things. Thank you so much for offering to help… I’m so sorry, I think I forgot to get your name?”

Holding out his hand, he grasped hers in a delicate handshake, surprised at just how tiny it was against his own. “Donatello,” he offered, tipping his head down towards her in a semi-bow, for some reason feeling it was the thing to do. “And to whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

“Lilian, but please call me Lily, I don’t like my grandma sounding name.” Giggling as she attempted to give his hand a firm squeeze, she managed to give him eye contact for more than just a few seconds this time.

Tilting her head at him once she took back her hand, needing it to support the large books against her chest, she hummed in thought, narrowing her eyes a little. “Donatello? Like after the Italian artist? Well, of course...I mean there aren’t many Donatello’s..” Giggling again to herself, she grinned up at him, delighted by the sound of him giggling with her. “Well, you’re not wrong. Yes, I am named after him, shame I don’t have the artist talent to go with it.”

Unable to stop herself from smiling up at him, she was losing track of time, forgetting almost about the books she held in her dainty arms or why she was even in the science section anymore. “We can’t have it all, I’m sure you’re talented with something else instead, maybe you’re a master at chess? Who knows!”

Hearing him snort as he laughed was the highlight of her day, her week, her entire year. Her own laugh went higher, joining him until he had to push up his glasses on to his nose. If it wasn’t for the sharp ‘shh’ that came from behind her, Lily would have worked on another way to make him laugh, entirely enamoured with his smile and the light flush of pink across his cheeks and nose.

Jolting a little, she spun around to see the head Librarian, an elderly lady sat at the front desk, scowling at her. “Lilian, this is the first time I’ve ever had to ask you this, but please be quiet. Take your friend and giggle somewhere else.” Lowering her head a little in shame, she mouthed a sorry silently at the lady. Luckily she didn’t take it to heart, smiling and shaking her head at the two of them before waving them off.

Getting to know Lily since she visited so often, the Librarian learnt that she must have not had many friends, or any given the amount of times she saw her reading and working alone. It brought warmth to her heart seeing her with someone, especially a boy similar to her age and clearly with similar interests. Chuckling softly to herself, she made sure to keep an eye on the two of them, curious to see if anything developed of it.

Motioning for Donnie to follow her, she lead him back over to her spot at the large oak tables, gesturing for him to sit at the head just across from her. Careful not to let the books drop heavily against the tabletop, she winced as she sat down, neatening her skirt out before looking over to him like a scolded puppy. “I’m so sorry about that, I’m so embarrassed...such a bad first impression….I promise I’m not a troublemaker..” she whispered, leaning in as she spoke so she was sure he could hear her.

Sitting down after she had seated herself, he waved her off with a smile, swinging his bag into the chair on the other side of himself. She was such a genuine breath of fresh air after his brothers, and their genuine trouble making. It was hard to believe she was genuinely as adorable and sweet as she was, especially in a city like New York that seemed to churn out hard people, people born in trenches and always ready for a fight. “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s been a long time since I got clucked at by a librarian, usually for arguing out loud with a book.”

Covering her mouth as she giggled, he felt himself beaming. Talking with people in general had never been his forte, let alone women, but something about her made it easy. He felt like an entirely different person sitting there with her, and yet more himself than he could remember feeling in a long time. Even with his family, he always felt like the odd man out, his sense of humor awkward and often not understood or appreciated by his brothers.

Quietly, she angled her syllabus towards him along with her notes, written neatly in small, precise cursive. She explained the current assignment requirements, occasionally smoothing her skirt as she talked. Her organization skills were impressive, and she clearly had a solid grasp on the work. To be honest, he sincerely doubted she honestly needed the help, and was likely more of an overachiever like himself, never content with “good enough” and wanting to put forth the best quality possible. He went through it with her, making sure to point out that she had much of the important information already, and flipping through the texts to show her what she still needed. She had few questions, following along readily, and the questions that she did have were clever and insightful.

“I think you’re going to be an incredible veterinarian,” he admitted once they had gotten through a large section of her work. He wasn’t even sure how much time had passed, and for once, he had no inclination to check. “You seem very empathic and you understand the work well. Are you from around here? I can’t say you’re like any native New Yorker I’ve ever met.”

Smiling sweetly at his compliment, Lily looked down at her notepad, bashfully tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she did. “Thank you, that means a lot…” Still adorning a rosy complexion due to his presence and encouraging nature, she felt that maybe he’d just assume she was always that pink in the cheek, given she hadn’t stopped blushing the entire time she had met him. Maybe it was just the colour of her hair making it stand out more. At his question of her origin, she rose her head and grinned happily. Shaking her head, she tamed a giggle, still aware of how much noise she was making. “No, actually, I recently moved here a few months ago from Canada. I used to live in Denmark, when I was young - my family is from there. Hence the uhm….red hair…” Rocking side to side, making her hair bounce on her shoulders a little, she mimicked his amused grin.

“My dad works for a company that’s very demanding, moves us around a lot. I had to hold off university for a while because of it, so as always, I’m playing catch up. It’s probably why I don’t have many friends either..” Laughing awkwardly, trailing it off to try and stop her smile fading but failed when she added, “..or any friends for that matter. I keep to myself a lot.” Tapping her pen against her papers, she shook her head a little after a short pause before looking up at him, forcing back on her smile. “How about you? Hailing from Italy?” Giggling, she gently poked at his arm with the capped end, hoping she hadn’t dropped the mood.

Looking down at the pen she had poked him with, he considered what she had said. How many times had his family harassed him for not having enough friends, not getting out enough? Not that he minded keeping to himself, but he just couldn’t imagine someone as bright and cheerful as herself, alone. “I’m not nearly as interesting,” he chuckled with a shrug. “New York, born and raised… raised by my adoptive father, though. My biological parents died in a car accident while I was still in utero, and he was to have been my godfather.”

“Oh my gosh,” she gasped, putting a dainty hand over her mouth in shock. She looked genuinely upset about it, and he had a brief moment of regret of being so upfront about it. He simply viewed it as a fact, having come to terms with it when he was quite young and insisted his father tell him. It hadn’t taken long for him to understand that he and his brothers, especially Raph and Mikey, were not biologically related. “I’m so sorry.”

“Please, don’t be sorry, it’s entirely okay. I was raised in a loving, nurturing environment,” he explained, pushing up his glasses. “I have three brothers, they’re all adopted as well. It’s chaotic sometimes, but that’s family, right?”

“I guess so,” she agreed, her cheeks continuing to be as pink as ever as she shuffled papers around nervously. “I think you’re probably a lot more interesting than you think you are.”

It was his turn to blush again, running his hands through his hair. He was so used to people telling him to shorten whatever he had to say, to make it “English” or simply ignoring that he even existed that the thought was foreign. It was so rarely that he genuinely connected with people, and when he did, it always seemed to be a professor or scientist across the country or even out of the country, their conversations strictly through the digital realm.

“Well,” he said slowly, leaning forward against the table. “I can’t imagine you being a loner or keeping to yourself.”

Slowly packing away her papers, tucking them neatly inside her notepad and marking pages with sticky notes in her newly acquired research books, Lily listened to him intently. Glancing over at him, she smiled, although it’s cheerful glow had faded a little.

“Unfortunately, it’s the truth. I don’t get out much, because of work but...mostly I just choose not to..” she started quietly, not so much from needing to be but more she felt a little down about it, realising how sad it must sound. “I’m not one for going out, drinking or otherwise, the only place other than here or my dorm room is a Starbucks, maybe.”

Closing up her last book after putting her pens away into her bag with the rest of her equipment, she sat neatly up right, perking up again with a bright smile. “Heh, speaking of ...let me buy you a coffee or something? As a thank you for helping me and putting up with me nattering at you for so long...and as a sorry for getting us hushed at.” Shuffling her seat backwards, she stood up, making sure all of her skirt was down and not tucked up in anyway. Shouldering her satchel, brushing her hair away from the strap before taking the full weight of it, wincing a little even when she prepared herself for it. Her mother had always told her if her hair was any longer, she’d fall over, too frail and delicate to carry her own weight sometimes. It didn’t help that Donnie dwarfed her even more.

“Oh, no no, there’s no need for that. I appreciate the offer but-...”

“Actually! I changed my mind. I’m buying you a coffee and you can’t say no.” Once he was stood up, she made sure to give him the most stern look she could, but stuck her tongue out when he looked a little taken back by her order. As his lips curved into a smile, chuckling a little, she had to drop her eyes, looking down at her feet bashfully. “I-I mean...that’s if you’re not….uhm….busy...or want to, that is…”

The sudden surge of confidence she had to tell him what she wanted to do disappeared as quickly as it appeared. He simultaneously gave her confidence and took her breath away, unable to think of a coherent sentence while also giving her all the words under the sun to speak with.

“I’d love to,” he admitted earnestly, hopelessly smiling at how incredibly adorable she was. There wasn’t a fiber in his being that would’ve been able to say no to her, even if he had wanted to. He almost felt grateful for his brothers being so annoying that they drove him from his normally hermit-like behaviors to get out of the house. “But just because I’m enjoying your company, not because I agree that you owe me any kind of thanks or apologies, because you most certainly do not.”

Nodding, she smiled up at him while she fidgeted with the strap of her bag. He wished he was quicker, more smooth like his brothers with social behaviors, especially with women, and would’ve offered to take the bag that must’ve been heavy on her tiny frame. At the same time, he didn’t want to insult her by having her take it off to hand to him, just in case. “I suppose that’s fair enough,” she answered, leading the way out of the library. “Is there a particular place you enjoy?”

Laughing as he held the front door open for her, he shook his head, squinting at the bright sunlight after the muted tones of the library. “My brothers say I’d hook myself up to an IV drip of coffee if I had my way,” he answered, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “And they’re probably right. I pretty much live on the stuff, I don’t tend to be very picky about where it originates.”

“I’d probably hover off the ground if I had that much,” she giggled. He found himself enamored with the way her bright, doe-like eyes sparkled in the sunshine. “There’s a nice little shop just a couple of blocks down though, they have a lovely tea selection, too.”

“I will absolutely defer to your more refined judgement, then.” He listened carefully as she explained her favorite kinds of tea for different occasions or situations as they walked, cataloging the information in his mind for later use. If there was a later use, he reminded himself, keenly aware that he ventures into being social usually didn’t last, especially not when it was women. Still, he found himself hopeful with her, she was different in so many ways, and conversation with her was surprisingly easy. Not once had he noticed her eyes glazing over with boredom or confusion, or had she expressed any desire to end the conversation as quickly as possible to “get away.”

“Here we are!” she chirped, gesturing to the cozy little shop, and he took one long stride to move ahead of her just enough to get the door, gesturing for her to walk through. She giggled, giving him a little curtsy before leading the way in, the rich aroma of coffee swirling out into the air of sidewalk after her.

#science and progress #chapter one #tmnt fanfiction #human!tmnt #human!au #donatello #donnie #lily #Donnie x lily #stories #fanfic #wumpusinthetardis #zandiiangelspit #wumpusandzandii

[maealbert]

The Liaison // Killer Kidnapper

AU Characters: Team x Reader A/N: Because there’s a new episode of Criminal Minds tonight, there shall be a new part to The Liaison. Enjoy! Master List The Liaison

tag list: @idkbutspencer @literallyprentissstwin @remember-me-forever-silent-angel @cynbx @tenaciousarcadeexpert @rawritsmolly @dontshootmespence @princesswagger15 @drspencerreider @illegalcerebral @marvelfanlife @rt8815 @punkpenguin2019 @extremeobsessions101

San Diego, California

_______________

“Don’t go..” A woman groans as she pulls her husband back onto the bed. He chuckles giving her one last kiss before prying her hands off of his now wrinkled tie.

“I’ll be home tonight for dinner.”

“But do you have to go in today? Can’t you just call in sick?”

“I wish I could but if I don’t make this meeting, you’ll be the one going to work instead of me and you know we agreed on your staying home with the kids and I’d be the one going to work.” He says giving her one last kiss.

“I do like staying home with the kids.” The wife says. “Speaking of which, your mother is coming by today to take the kids for the weekend. She said she wants to spend time with them and I couldn’t say no because then that means we can have the house to ourselves like the old days.”

“Well I’m glad you didn’t say no. But I have to go, I’m already running late and traffic is going to be a nightmare.” The husband says as he stands up from the bed and leaves the bedroom. Grabbing his keys off the hook by the front door, he pulls the door open to see a person standing on the porch all dressed in black. Their back facing him. “Oh I’m sorry. Do you need something?” The person turns around, a black ski mask covering their face.

“Your children deserve better.” The person says before shoving the husband back into the house, a knife shining in the sunlight.

___________

Her heels clicked on the tiled floor. Her free hand writing vigorously in her file. She accidentally bumped into another agent, muttering a quick ‘sorry’ before going on her way to the briefing room. The team noticed her frantic attitude as they were gathered around the break table drinking their morning coffee. Emily chugs the rest of the coffee before setting her mug back on the counter. “Must not be a good one..” Rossi says as he finishes the rest of his coffee as well.

Spencer sets his mug down and quickly follows after Lucy. “Table..” He says before she walks into it.

“Oh uh.. Thanks.” Lucy says as she begins to place the files at each designated spot.

“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks.

“Define okay?” Lucy says as she slams down the last case file on the table making Spencer flinch. “Two couple have murdered and all four children are missing...or were… One had already found dead and the other three are still missing..”

“Lucy, if you want to sit this one out, I’m sure you can-”

“No! I’m tired of sitting out on shit, I’m tired of everything turning out bad, I’m tired of people treating me like I’m a fragile, porcelain doll!”

“Lucy, are you okay?” He asks again.

“No, I’m not! I’m not okay! I’m far from okay! It’s been six months since I lost my baby and I don’t think I can go through it again!”

“Again?” He says peering out of the room to make sure the others weren’t listening. “What do you mean again?” He walks up to her. “Are you pregnant?” Lucy nods her head. “Well this is--”

“Great? I’m terrified, Spencer.”

“Hey hey, don’t worry, alright? We can do this. I know we can.”

Lucy took in a deep breath, as she straightened out her skirt and fixed her hair. “How do I look? Do I look okay?”

“You’re always beautiful.” He says.

“Oh gosh, you’re all profilers!”

“Lucy, calm down.”

“It’s my first day back to work and I’m freaking out. I never freak out. I didn’t even freak out when I first worked for the Bureau. But I’m freaking out and I don’t know what to do.”

“Take a deep breath and calm your thoughts.” He says. Lucy nods her head before taking in a deep breath.

“So are we all ready to get this case over with?” Emily says as she walks in with Rossi on her heels.

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Lucy says as she grabs the remote off the table. “Where’s Hotch?”

“Right here.” He says walking in from the opposite door. “So what do we got here?”

Once everyone had sat down, Lucy brought up two before photos of two couples on the tv screen. “San Diego, California is our next stop on the fun bus. Note how I said that sarcastically.”

“What do we have going on here?” Rossi asks.

“Two couples were murdered in the early mornings a couple days ago. The men worked and the women stayed home with the kids. Your classic 1950s family.”

“What about the children?” Emily asks.

“And that’s when the police called us in,” Lucy says. “Four children, two for each couple. All but one are still missing.”

“All but one?” Luke questions.

Lucy took in a deep breath. “Shortly after the second couple was discovered, one of their kids was found alive but badly beaten.”

“Who found the couples?” Emily asks.

“Police. After the kids didn’t show up to school, teachers tried contacting the parents and when no one was reached, they called the police. Police showed up to the homes to find the parents slaughtered. The father by the front door, the mother in her bed. Luckily both homes had security cameras by the front door. Both murders were committed by the same person.” Lucy pulls up the video feeds. “I briefed Garcia on the case and sent her the files of the video feeds so she could get an accurate description of our killer kidnapper.”

“So it definitely the same person.”

“As far as I can see, and I’m no profiler, but I can spot similarities and the person in each feed is definitely the same. Now onto the children. They are seen on the video feeds leaving the house at eleven o’clock. The parents were murdered at nine o’clock. It seems like the killer lingers inside the house for two hours before taking the kids.”

“But why linger? Staying in the home for two hours just increases the chances of getting caught.” Luke says.

“Please forgive me.”

“Do you have photos of the aftermath?” Hotch asks.

“Uh..yeah..”  Lucy says as she pulls up the after photos of the couples, keeping her back to the screen. She already got sick once looking at them, she didn’t feel like going through that again looking at them again. “ME counted thirty stabs wounds to the father and ten to the mother.”

“Looks like more anger towards the father,” Spencer says. “I can relate to that…”

“Yes well you’re not a murderer.” Hotch says patting his back. “Thank God for that.”

“Wheels up in thirty.” Emily says as she stands up from the table. “We’ll continue briefing on the jet. Lucy, I’d like to talk to you alone, please.” She adds before leaving the office.

“I’ll handle this.” JJ says as she takes the remote out of Lucy’s hand. Lucy leaves the briefing room and follows Emily to her office.

“I know it’s my first day back and I’m little bit off,” Lucy says as Emily closes the door and the blinds. “But I’ll be on my game when we get to San Diego.” Emily kept her mouth closed as she opened the top drawer of her desk. She pulls out a pregnancy test. “Emily, I can explain.”

“I, uh, I went into your office to speak with you before you briefed the team but you weren’t in there. I was assuming you were copying the files for everyone. But I happened to notice this on top of the paper pile in your trash bin.”

“You can’t tell anyone else.. Not until I know that everything is going smoothly.”

“Does Spencer know?”

Lucy nds her head. “I had a freak out in the briefing room and it slipped out. I planned on telling him when we got back from the case but my mouth had other plans.”

“How far along are you?”

“One month and half.”

“And you just found out this morning?”

Lucy nods her head. “It’s an estimate but it’s the last time we...you know.”

“Do you plan on going to the doctor when we get back?”

Lucy nods her head again. “I’m just hoping no one else finds out before then.”

“How your nausea?” Emily asks sitting on her desk. “Cause if you get sick while on the case, JJ’s gonna find out. Also you might want to clean up a little or else Garcia’s gonna be nagging you with annoying questions into she pries the answer she wants out of you.”

Lucy sighs. “Yeah, well we only have twenty-five minutes until we have to leave for the airport so I can’t really grab my makeup.”

“Ahh.” Emily walks around her desk and picks up her bag from the floor. Unzipping it she pulls out a smaller bag and tosses it to Lucy. “There’s unopened tub of mascara in there. Use whatever you want, just don’t get caught by Garcia.”

Lucy smiles as turns the bag over in her hands. “Thank you.”

_________

“Marry me..” Spencer whispers in Lucy’s ear.

“What?” Lucy says rolling her head over to look at Spencer.

“You heard me..”

“I did.. But what? Where is this coming from?”

Emily glances over her book at the two. She sees Spencer digging in his pocket. “I’ve been carrying this around for nearly nine months now.. I haven’t been able to figure out a time to ask..” Emily sees him pull out a ring from his pocket. She nudges JJ’s side and nods her head over to the couple.

“Spencer…” Lucy says once she sees the ring.

“I want to be with you, Luce. With or without children. And I know you don’t know fancy things or out of this world stuff, so I thought I’d do this with just...me..”

Lucy smiles before leaning over to give him a kiss. “Yes well, we do have an audience.” She says looking back at the window.

“And? You can’t keep this is a secret from them.” He says chuckling. “If they miss a giant rock on your finger, than they’re not very good at their jobs.”

Lucy giggles as she holds out her hand. “You don’t even need to ask.”

“So can I start buying wedding decor for the backyard?” Rossi says peering over the back of the seats. ______________

“Lucy..” Emily calls as she catches up to Lucy in to precinct. “I need you to me a favor?”

“What’s up?”

“The team is stuck in rush hour traffic and we just got a call from a burner phone.”

“One of the children?”

Emily nods her head. “I want you to ride along with the sheriff and a few officers. The call came from Tijuana.”

“Did she say anything about the other children?”

“No, but we have a feeling they might be there.”

“Alert the others. Send them the address to meet me down there.” Lucy says as she starts heading for the exit. “I’ll call with any updates.”

______

The heat radiated through the police cruisers, the radio was quietly playing in the background. Lucy’s main focus was on finding the children and praying all three were alive. With Garcia leading them to the location where the call came from, it was nonstop drive. Despite how much anyone had to pee, there would be no stopping. Lucy’s phone buzzed in her blazer and she pulled it out to see a text from Rossi. ‘We just crossed the border. Garcia is giving us directions as well. Be careful.’ Soon the car came to a stop outside of a run down home on the corner of a four-way stop. Sirens turned off and Lucy took in a deep breath. Climbing out of the vehicle she takes off her blazer and tosses it back onto her seat. Reaching for a bulletproof vest from under the seat, she straps it on and clips her gun to her waist.

“Agent De Luca,” An officer says stretching out his hand to her. “Officer Hernandez.”

“Please all me Lucy.” She says shaking Hernandez’ hand.

“You all didn’t waste any time getting down here. Hope there wasn’t any trouble getting through border patrol.”

“No problem at all,” Lucy says shaking her head. “What’s going on right now?”

“Place has been very quiet. We put on thermal cameras and can’t get a reading. There might be a basement but if there is, this aren’t any windows.” Lucy nods her head. “Any blueprints on the house?”

“None that we could find. This house has been standing since the revolution.”

Lucy looks at the officer from San Diego. “This is your call. What do you want us to do?”

“Ummm…” Lucy mumbles as she looks back at the house. “I want two officers to scope out the perimeter of the house and see if it’s inside. No one goes in until we have an all clear.”

Hernandez and SDPD sent one officer from their squads to scope out the house. Peering into the windows of the house, they cleared the living room and dining room. As they split up to cover each side of the house, they eventually clear the whole floor of the house.

“You, you.” She says pointing to each Sheriff. “You’re with me. I need two officers standing by the back door in case he or she runs.”

“But your arm..” SDPD points out.

“I’ll be fine.” Lucy says as she heads up to the house. Hernandez knocks on the door.

“Policia! Abres la puerta!” Hernandez shouts through the door. After not receiving an answer from inside, he looks at Lucy. She looks behind her. Still no sign of the rest of her team. She turns back to Hernandez and nods her head. He takes a step back before kicking in the door.

“Clear!” SDPD calls from the living room.

“Kitchen’s clear!” Hernandez calls.

Lucy slowly walked down the hallway towards a door on her right. She lifts her good hand to the door handle and slowly turns it. Pulling it open, she reaches down to her gun and holds it out in front of her. She took the first step down on the first step of the staircase. She hears something scurry below her in the dark. She flicks on the light with her casted hand. “FBI. I’m coming down now.” She slowly descends the stairs, keeping a watchful eye on her surroundings. Reaching the bottom steps, she could see someone from the corner of her eyes. She spins on her heels, her gun still pointed out in front of her. She recognizes one of the daughters. She was oldest of the four children that had gone missing. Her sister was the one who was found alive. “Julianne?”

The young girl nods her head. “Where is my sister?”

“Vivien is alright. She’s in the hospital but in good condition. She’s been asking for you.”

“C-Can you take me to her?”

“Of course we are.” Lucy says as she approaches the young girl. “Is there anyone else here with you?”

Julianne nods her head as she takes Lucy by the hand and brings her into one of the back rooms. On the floor she saw the other two children. The twins, Haleigh and Victoria. On the other side of the room laid a person dressed in black, their hands tied to the radiator in the corner of the room. She pulls out her gun again and carefully approaches the person. She nudges their back with the toe of her boot. The person groans before lifting their head.

“Who are you?”

“Who are you?” The person says adjusting their vision to the bright light of the room.

“FBI.”

“I knew you guys would come sooner or later.”

Lucy lifts her walkie up to her mouth. “Children are safe. Unsub is restrained.”

“Where are you Lucy?” She hears JJ’s voice come through the walkie talkie.

“Basement.” She lowers her walkie talkie and heads back over to the children. “Is anyone hurt?” They all shook their heads. “Okay, good.”

“I want to see my sister,” Julianne says. “When can I see my sister?”

“Very soon, I promise.” Lucy says as she tucks a strand of hair behind Julianne’s ear.

“Everybody okay?” Emily says as she enters the room.

“Yeah, everyone’s okay.” Lucy says as she stands up.

“Good, take the children outside. We can handle it from here.” Emily says. Lucy nods her head and directs the children out of the room and back upstairs to the cars.

____________

Lucy watched through the window as Julianne embraced her little sister. A hand rests on Lucy’s shoulder and she turns her head to see Rossi standing beside her. “You did good for being on your own.” He says. “We never would’ve found those girls without you.”

“I give all credit to Julianne. Without her, none of those girls would be alive.” Lucy says turning her attention back to the girls. “She had the unsub tied up to the radiator, found a phone, and called for help. She knew what she was doing. I applaud her.”

“Hey you two.” Emily calls from down the hall. “We’re heading out.”

Rossi pats Lucy’s shoulder again before going to catch up with the team. Looking back at the two girls, she couldn’t help but smile. Walking away from the window, she starts to head down the elevator when she hears someone call her name. Turning around she sees Julianne standing in the hallway. Without saying a word, she runs to Lucy throwing her arms around her neck. “Thanks to you I get to be with my sister again.”

“Well,” Lucy says. “I have a sister myself and if I ever lost her, I’d be so hurt and upset.. But we both have our sisters. So cherish her, okay? Take very good care of her.”

“I will.” Julianne says nodding her head.

if you liked enjoyed this part, than please be sure to leave it some love and feedback!

Thank you! :)

#criminal minds #criminal minds au #the liaison #team x oc #original character #lucy de luca #emily prentiss #paget brewster #spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #jennifer jareau #aj cook #david rossi #joe mantegna #penelope garcia #luke alvez #adam rodriguez #tara lewis #kirsten vangsness #aisha tyler #daniel henney #matt simmons

[ladyvialana]

Fic: Friday Night Revelations - Ch. 6

Final Fantasy XV fic. band!AU, pre-relationship Prompto/Noctis

Chapter Summary: Noctis and Regis always try to make time for each other.

Chapter Notes: Noctis POV, Noctis & Regis father-son bonding

Also on Ao3

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The only reason Noctis was up before 10am on a Sunday and dressed in the sort of semi-casual clothes that wouldn't get him kicked out of a fashionable water-side restaurant was because of his father. Who was late. And leaving Noctis to the mercy of the small swarm of paparazzi that had got wind of their brunch date.

Good thing Noctis had something clean to wear and actually got up in time to do his hair.

Noctis kept his sunglasses perched on his nose and did his best to ignore the occasional snap as he lingered nonchalantly by the doorway to the old-fashioned building. The photographers were trapped by privacy and trespassing laws on the other side of the filigree iron wrought fence lining the entrance to the restaurant. A poised employee stood nearby behind a podium, waiting to escort Noctis and his delayed dining partner to their table.

The sudden increase of noise from the crowd on the street informed Noctis that his father had finally arrived.

A sleek black town car pulled over right in front of the entrance, where the photographers gathered. Regis opened the door and stepped out with a charming smile. He was dressed in one of his many suits—grey this time, with pinstripes, and a dark blue tie. He tapped on the top of the car with his ever-present cane and his driver pulled back out onto the road and drove away.

Though he didn't deliberately pose for photographs, he did nod to the small crowd and take his time walking to the gate, answering all questions posed to him with a simple, "I'm just here to meet my son for brunch. Any questions you have regarding my work or the artists I promote can be addressed to my agency."

A few tried to inquire further about the brunch date, asking pointed questions about Regis and Noctis' personal life that Regis ignored entirely.

Noctis tucked his phone away and wandered down towards the gate while this was going on and met his father as he walked in.

Regis' charming smile turned warm and familiar as he looked at his son. "Good morning, Noctis. You look rather nice today."

Noctis ignored the teasing jab he knew was as much for the paparazzi still lingering nearby as it was a comment on the fact that his buttoned-up black shirt was actually ironed for once.

Noctis pushed his sunglasses up onto his styled hair. "Hey dad." He reached out and wrapped his arms around Regis' shoulders, oddly comforted by the fact that his father was still taller than him even with his posture slowly worsening due to his cane and limp.

Regis returned the embrace, pulling Noctis in as close as possible with one hand cradling the back of his head. "Thank you for making time for me."

Noctis pulled back, fighting the smile he wanted to show. "I should be the one to say that."

Regis winced. "It has been a rather busy few months."

"For both of us." Noctis cocked his elbow out and Regis laid his hand on it, tucking his now unused cane under his arm, as they made their way into the restaurant.

"Ah yes, how were your exams?" Regis asked as the server led them inside and through the small restaurant to the tables on the balcony overlooking the water.

Noctis shrugged. "About how I expected." He pulled his father’s seat out as they reached their table then took his own. "I'm topping the composition class."

Regis smiled, delighted. "Noctis, that's wonderful! I'm incredibly proud of you."

Noctis ducked his head at the sight of his father's joy. "It's my favourite class," he said, trying to downplay the achievement.

"I'm not surprised." Regis chuckled. "You've always had a knack for tinkering with songs and playing with structure."

Noctis smiled down at his menu, embarrassed and pleased by the attention. "How's that new singer working out?" he asked, changing the subject.

Regis sighed. "The album is taking a bit longer than we'd hoped," he admitted and started explaining the situation with the young singer and the clash with her assigned producer and manager.

Noctis sat up and listened intently to his father's stories. Regis did the same when he found a way to segue back to Noctis.

They ordered a pot of tea to share and their usual breakfasts—Noctis a pile of bacon and pancakes and Regis a healthy omelette with chilli.

Despite the time spent apart, their conversation didn't feel stilted. Regis gesticulated wildly with his fork whenever he got excited and he chided Noctis for speaking with his mouth full. Noctis laughed easily, his smiles coming more naturally now that he wasn't being observed and whispered about by strangers looking to make money from him. They teased each other about silly familiar things like Noctis' overuse of syrup and the way Regis cut his food into minuscule pieces.

It felt like only days had passed since they last saw each other, not months.

They lingered after finishing their food, conversation still flowing strong, and ordered more drinks. A dark roast this time for Regis and a sweeter cappuccino for Noctis.

"Are you enjoying living with your new roommate?" Regis asked.

Noctis took a sip, considering his answer. He hadn't lived with anyone aside from his father (and mother) before this time with Prompto. Sometimes he had stayed with the Amicitia family when Regis was away with work when he was younger and occasionally Ignis would come over for a night or two, but it had been at least a month now living in a shared space with Prompto.

"Yeah," Noctis said, frowning as he drew out the word. "It's different, but it's good."

"Not at each other’s throats then?" Regis watched his son over the rim of his cup.

Noctis shook his head. "We were both a little worried at first, I think. Moving in with your best friend—it sounds great, right? But what if you start hating each other after like a week. It wasn't like that with us but ..." Noctis trailed off, frowning.

"But?" Regis prompted him.

Noctis shrugged, sliding down in his seat. "It was weird. Prompto was acting so timid. Like he didn't want to take up too much space—which, you know, before he moved in, he left his stuff everywhere. Half of the shirts in my wardrobe were his." Noctis sighed. "He got over it, I guess. I might have kept telling him that it was his house now too, he was allowed to make a mess so long as he helped clean it up. Must have sunk in. He’s still a little quiet sometimes."

"Give it time. It's better that you're both trying to be considerate of the other."

"Yeah, you're right. And maybe it's just because those first few days were spent rearranging everything too. We didn't get much time to just hang out like we normally did or work on any music until like a week later."

Regis hummed excitedly. "Ah, yes. Your musical endeavours. How is that going?" He leaned forward, eyes almost sparkling with eagerness to hear more.

"Actually ..." Noctis looked away from his father and started fidgeting with a stray napkin. "I wanted to ask you a favour." His eyes widened as he realised how that sounded and his head whipped back to his father in panic. "Not like a favour favour. Just like a dad favour."

Regis smiled. "I'm more than happy to help, as your father. Though I hope you know that if you did ever need any professional assistance you could always call me."

"I know, but I like doing things this way." It was genuinely comforting to know his father supported him, but Noctis really wanted to see what he could do on his own. "Besides, I don't think we're at that point yet. I still can't even get up on stage, which is probably more important to work on."

His father, better than anyone, knew how much Noctis hated being the centre of attention.

"You're not entirely wrong I suppose."

"That's kind of what this favour relates to." Noctis reached into his pocket for his phone. " Hammerhead has an open mic night every Monday. Prompto and I are aiming to get up one week soon just to see how we go. We've got a few songs prepared, but I just really wanted an outside opinion on the one I was going to perform by myself."

He flicked through his screen to find his recording app and lined up the song they'd recorded the night before. He slid his phone over the top of the table to his father.

Regis smiled as he picked up the phone and pulled out a set of earbuds from his jacket pocket. "I'm honoured to be the first to hear it."

Noctis looked away again. "It’s not completely finished or polished, but be critical anyway.”

Regis slipped the earbuds in and tapped the play button on the phone.

Noctis couldn't watch his father’s reaction—or, considering that his father was a professional, his non-reaction. He turned away to stare out at the water instead.

Seagulls dove over the sparkling water of Insomnia Bay and white sails dotted the horizon. The sound of the birds calling and gentle waves lapping against the wharf were calming. It was a beautiful cloudless day, if a little chilly. Noctis was glad for his jacket, even if the midday sun was hot on his neck.

Noctis finished his cappuccino as he watched a long yacht glide over the bay to dock nearby.

"Noctis."

Noctis looked over at his father, trying to read his face for anything.

"This is genuinely impressive."

Noctis let out a heavy breath. "Really?"

Regis nodded. "It's a beautiful song and both you and Prompto perform it well." He wasn't smiling, but somehow that made his praise feel all the more genuine. "As you said, it's unfinished. I think you need to work on the bassline and maybe add another instrument. It feels a little lopsided."

"I have a piano score written, but I was having difficulty threading it into the piece without it overshadowing the lyrics."

"Yes, I can see how that might be difficult. But the piano is a good idea to make the song feel more balanced." Regis tapped at the table. "Do you have any plans to involve other people in this?"

Noctis frowned. "Like, a manager?"

"Like more band members."

"I hadn't really thought about it." Noctis looked back out at the water, thinking it through. Part of him hated the idea of involving anyone else (look at what happened with Dino) yet his father always gave him good advice. Plus, he and Prompto couldn't play all the instruments live. "Maybe."

Regis nodded, knowing that was the best he would get from Noctis at this point. "Perhaps that's an idea for another day. For now, I think you should perform this song. It's more than good enough for an open mic night if you’re playing solo with your guitar. And, you might be surprised how helpful performing in front of strangers is for your creative process."

"Yeah, okay." Noctis smiled. "Thanks dad."

Regis reached over to put his hand over Noctis', sitting on the table. "I am so proud of you, Noctis. Your mother would be too."

Noctis smiled at the praise, hoping he could continue to live up to it.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#fanfic #ffxv #ffxv fanfiction #noctis lucis caelum #regis lucis caelum #au #band!au #vialana's fic #friday night revelations

[we-are-all-obsessed-here]

Heart Strings And Melodies (Modern Musician!Poe AU) Part 2

(Not my Gif)

Summary: It’s been three weeks since Reader first met Poe, slowly they’re beginning to get to know each other better, especially when Poe is invited to an engagement party. (Because after writing the first one I was inundated with ideas for more parts and so if people want it or not, you’ll be seeing a few more parts of this)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Masterlist

Three weeks had passed since you had first entered D’Qar, it’s quaint little style and atmosphere had grown on you insurmountably. You found the bar was somewhere beyond relaxing after a long day at work, and with the Christmas holiday season coming closer and closer, it meant you were in dire need of more down time. Gratefully you found out the bar was open during the day as well, serving coffee and a small range of food; since the bar wasn’t too far away from home, you found yourself making several trips a week at the end of your work shift to just sit and have a coffee and a sandwich. “Hey Finn.” You called as you entered the bar. Finn called your name excitably as you stepped over to the bar. “Another long day?” Finn asked you as he grabbed one of the tall coffee mugs and placed it on the coffee machine. “Don’t get me started. My flat is covered in papers that I’ve been taking home to get all sorted. They’re beginning to pile up. I can’t wait until Christmas has passed, it’ll calm down then.” You explained, perching yourself at the bar. You shrugged the blazer you were wearing off your shoulders, the black tie around your neck joined it after a moment, with deft fingers you unfastened the top buttons of your shirt. A huff left your lips as you leaned over the bar, your fingers brushing against the white tall mug Finn had just placed in front of you. “Thanks Finn, You smiled at the man behind the bar. “Hows everything going with the bar recently?” You add. “It’s going great, I mean when I’ve been on shift, it’s been pretty busy on a night, less so during the day but it means I can practice.” He nodded happily. “Practice?” You question. “Oh yeah! Poe has been teaching me how to play guitar, but I don’t think I’ll ever be as good as he is.” “Oh neat! I bet you’re better than what you think!” You enthused. “Hey are you coming to watch him play again tonight?” Finn asked curiously. “Back again are we?” A voice interrupted as a plate was placed on the bar beside you. You greeted the familiar kitchen staff before they disappeared back in the kitchen. “Yeah, I should be.” “Should be? You’re usually eager to come by.” Finn questioned. “I’m pretty exhausted, the idea of cuddling up in bed with a nice coffee is really tempting. David and Ryan are on about coming though.” You explain. “Well, if you do decide to stay home, pretty sure Poe will miss seeing you.” Finn commented. “Finn, believe me, with the number of women who are beginning to fawn over him, he’ll be too busy buying them drinks to realise I’m not there.” You smiled softly, taking a bite of the sandwich on your plate. “You do realise you’re the only person Poe’s ever bought a drink for?” Finn cocked a brow. You were taken back by the revelation, deciding to take more bites of your sandwich to avoid giving a response.

A knock at your door had you hopping over to answer it while tugging on a blue suede boot. You almost lost your balance as you swung the door open, your foot landing on the floor just in time to regain balance. “Hello you two!” You beamed, motioning with your hand to let them in. “Wow, who dropped a paper bomb in here?” Ryan laughed, his gaze darting around your living room. “That would be me. Work is piling up big time. It’s starting to stress me out.” You mumbled, a frown on your face. “Sounds like you definitely need a break.” David replied. “More like I’ve been procrastinating for hours and now a drink is needed. Desperately. So I don’t feel as shit as I have been.” You complained. “Come on then, lets get going.” Ryan said, grabbing your leather jacket and holding it open for you to shrug on. Once you’d picked up your bag, you grabbed your keys and guided your friends out of your apartment. You shivered as the cold winter air bit at the back of your neck and brushed over your exposed hands. An abrupt warmth covering the back on your neck startled you, causing you to spin on your feet to look behind you. Walking in quick steps to eventually walk in step beside you, your gaze fell on the familiar musician. His dark curls were slightly messy, but fashionably so, a bright smile was plastered on his face. Your fingers brushed over the soft material of the scarf that had been placed around your neck. “You do realise its winter right?” Poe asked with a cocked brow. “Yeah, I didn’t think it was this cold though.” You answered. Poe offered you a kind smile as he brought an end of the scarf around the front of your neck and tossed it over your shoulder. “You got any new stuff tonight?” Ryan asked excitedly. “You’ll just have to wait and see!” Poe said playfully. The musician pulled the lapels of his long black winter coat around his face as he let out a breath that came out in a white cloud. “Here.” You went to take off the scarf but Poe covered your hand with his. “No I’m good, we’re almost there anyway.” He smiled at you. You averted your gaze from his to glance down at the guitar case he was carrying. It was solid black, though it was covered in stickers, some you recognised though others you didn’t, especially an odd shaped deep orange symbol. Poe followed your gaze to the symbol. “Resistance.” He told you. “Resistance?” “The symbol,” Poe held the case up and let his fingers brush over the coloured sticker. “It’s from a group I was a part of a long time ago. Its a big part of my past, I miss them from time to time.” Poe explained to you. “Its sweet you carry them with you.” You noted. “I never thought of it like that.” He beamed down at you.

As you entered the bar, shouting a quick hello to Finn, Poe disappeared to ready himself for his set. David, Ryan and you settled at the bar, sorting out what you would be drinking for the night. “So you made it after all?” Finn smiled knowingly. “Believe me, I would’ve just been moping in my apartment. I haven’t had a great afternoon.” You admitted. “Well I’m sure a drink and a bit of music will cheer you up.” Finn offered. “I hope you’re right.” You replied. “Lets find somewhere to sit.” Ryan spoke after you were all served your drinks. As David stepped away from the bar, carrying the drinks on a tray, Ryan following close behind, you gave Finn a quick wave as you began to follow them. “Your usual table is free!” Finn called over the chatter at the bar. You gave him a thumbs up before calling over to your friends and motioning towards your table near the stage. As you stepped over to the round table, a small folded sign had been placed on the table, the word ‘Reserved’ written across it. You looked over your shoulder to Finn, giving him knowing look, he simply shrugged with a grin on his face. After sitting at the table, you took note of the yellow tulips sat in the small vase in the centre of the table. You shook your head softly, your fingers brushing over the smooth outer petals. A number of whistles and applause made you look towards the stage. Poe grinned at the crowd’s reaction as he stepped onto the stage, his guitar in hand as he perched himself on the wooden stool in the centre. You took a sip of your drink to try and distract yourself from the beaming smile he sent in your direction as his gaze met yours. There was no denying that Poe was one very handsome man, both inside and out, he was much different from many men you’d met before. Still the night carried on, Poe beginning his set with a song, you noted, that was one you’d told him you liked. You couldn’t help glancing around the room, each and every person was enthralled by Poe’s playing. A soft smile made its way onto your face as you turned back to face the stage. Poe continued to play, taking small breaks in-between songs to take a sip of cool water, his music filled the room and drifted out into the street, bringing passing people into the bar with curiosity. You were proud of how popular Poe was becoming, with each song he finished the applause increased, the smile on his face widening each time. “Okay final song for tonight-“ A wave of groans echoed across the bar, making Poe chuckle brightly. “I’m back next week.” He calmed the crowd with a smile on his face. Poe finished his set with a lively song, his fingers travelling along the strings quickly and skilfully, his foot bouncing along with the song.

“So what did you guys think?” Poe questioned as he sat down beside you, his arm going around your shoulders. “Amazing! Your new stuff is really something!” Ryan enthused. “You’re getting better every week!” David added. “Thanks, I guess I got a new spring of inspiration recently.” Poe looked over to you, a gentle look in his gaze. “Poe, we’re having an engagement party next week, do you fancy coming along?” David questioned. “Engagement?” Poe wondered. “Oh yeah, I asked Ryan to marry me at the weekend.” David explained. “It was really romantic.” Ryan added with a bashful smile. “I love celebrations! I’d love to join you!” Poe enthused. “Will you be coming?” Poe asked curiously, his gaze on you. “Of course! I’m the one helping them set up!” You grinned. The four of you sat for a while, drinking and chatting happily. As you yawned for the third time in several minutes, you glanced down at your watch. “Damn I should get going! Armitage wants me in early tomorrow.” You groaned. “You sure you have to leave so soon?” Poe asked. “I’m afraid so,” You told him as you stood, shrugging on your leather jacket then fastening it all the way up. “I suppose I’ll see you all on Friday. Goodnight guys.” You call as you backed away from the table. The small group waved and bid you goodnight. You hurried home, the cold winter air becoming even more icy than when you had first stepped out of your apartment. With cold hands you wrapped the scarf around your neck tighter, upon touching the soft fabric you let out a soft curse. You’d forgotten to give Poe his scarf back. You turned on your feet, wondering whether to turn back to return it to him. With a shake of your head, you recalled you’d be seeing him in just a couple days time and decided you’d give it back to him then. After stepping into your apartment, you shrugged off your jacket and hung it up by the door, then removed the scarf and hung it over your jacket, an aroma met your nose as your gently stroked at the fabric: the soft smell of sandalwood and leather. You let out a harsh sigh as you stepped around your apartment, your eyes travelling across the stacks of papers on more or less every surface.

“Look at you two, all loved up and adorable.” You teased as you opened a bottle of wine and poured three glasses. David and Ryan laughed softly at your words. “Just wait till you meet someone.” David noted. You laughed derisively, shaking your head. A knock at your door drew your attention. “Oh that’ll be the pizzas!” You hummed excitedly, stepping across the busy apartment to get to the door. Upon opening it you were face to face with Poe. “Oh hi!” You greeted. “Poe you made it! We were worried you wouldn’t make it!” Ryan exclaimed, joining your side at the door. “Wouldn’t miss this for the world.” He replied. Poe stepped into the apartment, his guitar case in hand. “You been working?” You questioned. “No, well yes but not as a musician, I though I’d play for you, well for everyone. I wrote something specially.” He beamed cheerfully. “Ooh we can’t wait!” Ryan enthused. “Would you like a drink?” You asked Poe after taking his coat and hanging it up beside others. “I’d love one!” Poe followed you towards the kitchen. “Wine?” “Sure.” The two of you stood for an awkward moment in silence. “You said you were working? What is it that you do?” You wondered. “I work part-time as a mechanic, usually on bikes. Then I work the other times at D’Qar behind the bar.” “So what came first? Being behind the bar or playing on stage?” You inquire. “Behind the bar. It’s how Finn and I met. During one of my breaks I was sat playing my guitar, trying to figure out the next part of a song I was writing. The manager said I played well and wanted to know if I wanted to play to a crowd, earn a bit of extra money. And thats how I ended up on stage every week.” Poe explained. “Wow. Lucky break.” You replied. “I’m hoping for another one soon. I’ve been trying to find a record label to take me on. No such luck so far.” He shrugged. “Well I’m sure someone will very soon. D’Qar will be needing more tables soon with how many people you’re bringing in.” You encouraged.

You stood beside Poe as Ryan and David began giving a speech to those who’d come to the party. A beaming smile burst out onto your face as they discussed how they first met and how everything since had been a dream come true. A round of applause filled the room as they finished speaking. “Love huh? It certainly is something.” You commented. “So you’re not currently with someone?” Poe wondered curiously. You chuckled softly. “There aren’t many men out there that aren’t complete bastards.” You answered. “There are a few that are decent.” Poe shrugged gently as he took a sip of his drink. “What are you-“ “Right, my turn.” Poe interrupted, a grin on his face as his removed his guitar from its case. Poe grasped one of the bar stools in the kitchen and carried it into the middle of the living room. “Hey everyone,” Poe gained everyone’s attention. “Thought I’d play a little something to celebrate these two deciding they’re going to get hitched.” Poe began to tune his guitar and strummed it a couple times, humming a slight tune to make sure it was sounding how he needed it. “Right, so I’m going to start with a song or two that you should all know,” Poe smiled, playing a quick tune before continuing. “Then I’ve written something specially for these two.” Poe gestured to David and Ryan. You smiled softly as Poe began to play. At first you struggled to place the song, though the moment he started to sing, you knew it immediately. A beautiful rendition of Elvis Presley’s ‘Can’t Help Falling In Love’. Each time he sung, his voice still took you by surprise, it had such a beautiful timbre. You sipped your drink as you listened to him play, mouthing the lyrics. As he finished the song, the room burst into applause, Poe looked over to you, you gave him a nod and a bright smile in encouragement, though it wasn’t like he needed it. As he started the next song, you leaned against the counter and poured yourself another drink. You were more than content to listen to Poe play, it created a feeling inside you that was almost like all your troubles were melting away. A soft look entered your eyes as Poe finished on his own song. The words were elegant, speaking of first meetings and first touches, first kisses and first nights spent together. Of memories made together and memories yet to come. Of growing old together but still keeping that love from that first meeting. The applause as he finished was much louder than when he had first started playing. He thanked everyone and returned to your side, replacing the guitar in his case. “That was really something Poe. You have to play that next week, everyone at D’Qar will love it!” You enthused excitedly. “You think so?” “Of course! Did you hear everyone’s reaction to that? You play something like that and you’re bound to find a record label any day!” You beamed. Poe and you stood in the kitchen for a time, drinking and chatting contently. “Damn, I gotta go!” Poe cried out as he spotted the time. “Oh? So soon?” You asked, slightly disappointed. “Sorry, Finn ended up calling in sick so they’ve asked me to cover his shift.” He explained. “I’ll walk you out.” You told him, draining your glass. As Poe reached the door, pulling his coat around him and pulling the lapels up around his neck and face you suddenly remembered the scarf. “Oh here! I forgot to give this back to you the other day. It’s damn cold out there tonight.” You reached for Poe’s scarf which you had stored in your jacket pocket then wrapped it around his neck. “Oh thanks! I was wondering where this went!” Poe smiled down at you. “You leaving already?” David called from across the room. “Got to pull an extra shift. Thanks for inviting me to the party though!” Poe called back. “I’ll see you next week.” Poe told you as he opened the apartment door and began to walk out. “Can’t wait.” “Stay safe till then,” Poe leaned down and pressed his lips to your cheek. “See you at D’Qar.” “You too…” You replied quietly. Poe gave a quick wave before disappearing out of sight. Your fingers came up to brush against where his lips had pressed against your skin. A smile made its way onto your face, a blush scattering across your cheeks. With a shake of your head, you closed the door and returned to the party.

#Poe Dameron x reader #Poe Dameron

[thepondonthemoon]

Chasing Tails - 1

A/B/O alternate universe  Everyone-has-tails AU  Alpha! Sasuke, Omega! Naruto Cat! Sasuke, Fox! Naruto 

NO MPREG 

In a society where male omegas are unable to give birth, Uzumaki Naruto is ostracised for being a ‘defective’ omega. With his parents dead, he suffers from nightmares and despite a loving adoptive father and best friend, he is left to believe that he will never be able to find an alpha who will accept him for the individual that he is. 

Uchiha Sasuke never planned on taking a mate, instead finding the very scent of omegas to be revolting. But as he finally surrenders to the pressures of his father to hold a ceremony for the pure purpose of obtaining a mate, he may find this decision to be life altering. 

... 

So..uh... yea was meant to study but ended up starting another fic cuz I got inspiration for this soooo.. yea. Hope you enjoy :3  Please validate this waste of time by giving me a note ^w^ thanks!! 

Click for Chapter 2

Laughter. Naruto peeked out from behind his mother’s legs as the sound rang through the air, stirring a sense of curiousity and longing inside the five year old child. A smile graced his lips as he bore witness to the scene, his eyes twinkling with excitement as his white-tipped orange fox tail swished behind him. A group of children were running around, seemingly partaking in a game as their tails danced around in glee. “Go on”, a hand nudged Naruto forward as he glanced up at his mother’s warm smile. “You want to play too, don’t you?” she asked. Naruto slowly nodded, his swiftly wagging tail betraying his excitement at the thought of joining the other children.

Naruto slowly left his mother’s side, his footsteps increasing in length as he ran to play with the group of kids, the smile on his lips breaking out into a grin as an emotion bubbled up inside his throat. Laughter, what a happy sound it is, he thought as the emotion flew out of his mouth in the form of a sound. Laughing, he turned back towards his mother to see her smiling at him before being dismembered into several pieces, a smile still upon her lips. Naruto watched paralysed from fear, his laughter echoing through the scene mixing with the screams of his mother as blood spurted out of her body, painting the ground like an abstract artist aiming to depict the pain and fear coursing through his soul.

Naruto stared, unable to rip his eyes away as the same group of children that were playing crept towards the corpse of his mother before ripping into her flesh, gore covering their faces and teeth as her bones flew through the air. Suddenly, they stopped, as eerily as a piano screeching to a halt in the middle of an instrumental solo. Abrupt. Their faces slowly raised up from their meal as their eyes simultaneously fixed on Naruto and they smiled, as if desperate to display the pieces of his mother sticking out between their teeth.

“Stupid male omega”, a girl giggles.

“Useless”, a boy snickers.

“Couldn’t save his own mother”, another voice pipes up.

“Can’t give birth”, one more piles on.

“Defect of nature”, another adds to the list.

“Really, you should just kill yourself”, they chorus, their smiles disappearing as they slowly crept towards him in a motion reminiscent of that of a predator stalking his prey. Naruto had to move, he had to move, he had to move, he had to move NOW. And yet he remained paralysed as all but one jumped onto him, their teeth ripping into his flesh as his cries of agony rang through the air, his throat an instrument playing a haunting melody. The laughter had stopped.

xxx

Naruto woke up in a sweat; hot and cold flashes abusing his body as he gasped for breath, the rapid pounding of his heart and shivers wracking his bones doing naught to help. His mind swirled in nausea as the images from the dream attacked him again and again; the sneering voices of the children leading him down the path to darkness, to the hell filled to the brim with suffering and insanity. No. No. Naruto couldn’t go back there. He couldn’t. He couldn’t. Yet despite his fervent resistance, he was unable to slide out of the grip of his nightmare. Screaming and screaming and screaming and yet not a sound could exit the constricting confines of his throat. Help me. Save me. Please. I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t save me save me save me save me someone anybody please help me-

“Really you should just kill yourself”, a boy snickers.

Naruto broke. Tears streamed down his face as he writhed in his blankets, his hand ironically grasping his neck as if he could release the pressure that had constricted his throat to the size of a needle. Choking. Drowning. Suffocating. He watched in fearful agony as every insecurity he’d had rose out of him, congregating into a massive black blanket above his head before crashing down on him. Merciless. Like the waves of the ocean in a storm punishing each ship that had dared to challenge it. Dragged deep underwater into comforting nothingness after suffering through the painful ordeal of gasping for air only to be met with water. Calm. Naruto closed his eyes, embracing the sluggish slumber that had befallen him.

A crash echoed through the water, residing as a subdued ringing in his ears. But Naruto was so tired; tired of reliving the same nightmare, tired of being ostracised, tired of living. It all just seemed so tedious compared to the appeal of drifting away from it all on the big fluffy cloud he seemed to be on. Yes, finally, uninterrupted sleep, he thought as his consciousness gave out, not having enough energy to process the running footsteps or the shrieks of “Naruto!” in his ear.

xxx

Iruka yawned as he awoke, his body alerting him to its need to be hydrated. Sighing, he rolled out of bed and started walking towards the kitchen of his apartment, still half asleep but unable to ignore the state of his dry mouth any longer. Upon arriving at the kitchen, he yawned again and as he grabbed a glass, his heavy eyes slid shut, slackening his grip on the glass. CRASH. His eyes flew wide awake as the shattering of the glass echoed through the apartment; his brain suddenly whirling with the brief onslaught of adrenaline as his body reacted to the loud sound. Sighing at the break of yet another glass, he slowly relaxed before picking up on a familiar sound.

Iruka’s mind raced in both confusion and desperation as he stood there in his 2 am deliria, struggling to focus on what he should do and yet being unable to pick out the one thought from the thousands of ideas running wild in his head. A loud thump finally struck him into action upon realising the true danger of the situation. “Naruto!” Iruka shrieked as he ran into Naruto’s room, heart pounding with fear as he saw Naruto’s body lying on the floor. Hands trembling, he slowly placed two fingers on Naruto’s throat, and upon feeling a pulse he sighed, his entire body sagging in relief and his brown wolf tail relaxing as the tension escaped. Quickly, Iruka grasped Naruto’s phone - which was sitting on Naruto’s bedside table - and called for an ambulance. As the signature siren sounds approached, Iruka placed Naruto upon his bed and smoothed out the disturbed ruffles in the orange tail, wincing as he discovered each new knot and knowing that this situation could very well have resulted in the death of his adopted child. After all, Naruto’s tail was abnormally attuned to his emotional state, a condition that no doctor had ever been able to diagnose.

xxx

“NARUTOOOOO!!!”

A loud familiar voice echoed in Naruto’s ear, followed by something heavy landing on his body. Wincing, Naruto awoke only to discover his best friend, Sakura, laying on top of him; her brown wolf tail with pink highlights wagging behind her in concern for her friend. Upon realising that Naruto was awake, her eyes glinted in excitement as a ramble of questions tore out of her mouth without any regard for the drowsy fox struggling to gain a sense of his surroundings.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh my god what happened?”

“Iruka told me you could’ve died; I was so worried”

“By the way he had to go to work so you’re stuck with me for now”

“How are you feeling?”

“Do you need to schedule another appointment with that wolf shrink?”

“Do you need to-”

Naruto tuned her out, opting instead to glance around his surroundings and upon noticing the familiar white, sterile walls he breathed out a prolonged sigh. That same nightmare that had haunted him ever since the death of his parents was making a reappearance, indicating that unfortunately his heat was only a week away for reasons that, yet again, no doctor or therapist had been able to determine. As a male omega, Naruto was unable to give birth to fertile offspring due to the lack of a proper internal environment and as a result, he was often observed as ‘useless’ to society. After all, what good was an omega if it couldn’t produce children to carry on the alpha’s bloodline? Fortunately, he only went into heat every year or so, as compared to female omegas who had to deal with their heats every 3 months.

Still, Naruto envied Sakura, an omega lucky enough to be born female, and with her shiny, fluffy tail there weren’t many alphas that wouldn’t crawl across shards of glass just to gain the chance of a bond with her. In this society, the appearance of the tail as well as the ‘pure-blood’ status marked the desirability of an individual.

A ‘pure-blood’ referred to a person with an extra chromosome termed ‘Chromosome R’. Such a phenomenon would be impossible, or would usually result in the formation of a retarded individual, making pure-bloods quite rare to come across. However, this extra chromosome was able to carry genetic information from the person’s lineage - indicated by their tail or ears - allowing the individual to gain certain characteristics that were above the ordinary for a normal person.

Naruto sighed almost in defeat as he stroked his fluffy fox tail. He had long accepted the fact that society would never accept him, nor would an alpha ever want to take him as a mate and yet the idea of complete rejection struck a chord with the omega within him. Well, he thought glancing at Sakura, at least he had a friend as well as Iruka, his adoptive father.

A small phrase that exited the pink-haired omega’s mouth finally caught his attention.

“Hey remember Uchiha Sasuke? I heard that he’s finally holding a mate ceremony!” Sakura jumped around excitedly. It was easy to see that she was smitten with the Uchiha.

“Ah, yes”, Naruto recalled drily. The Uchihas were a prestigious family where every member had carried Chromosome R, and as a result all carried traits from their ancestral animals, which only gave rise to their reputation as one of the oldest and most ancient families in the town of Konoha. Uchiha Sasuke was the youngest son of the family, and with his sleek, black cat tail and dismissive attitude it was no wonder that all the omegas salivated over claiming the alpha for themselves.

It was common for such traditional families to hold ceremonies for their children as they came of age, usually at the age of 18, to provide them with a mate of their choosing. Interestingly enough, the much desired Sasuke had refused the idea of such a ceremony, and yet here he was, announcing that he was now ready for a mate at the age of 21.

“Tch”. A sound of annoyance exited Naruto’s mouth at the thought of the black-haired alpha, a sense of uneasiness and frustration spreading throughout his body for no apparent reason. Surprised by the small sound, Sakura glanced over at the blonde before a giggle erupted in her throat.

“If I didn’t know you any better, I’d say you hated the guy”, she grinned.

“Huh?” Naruto snapped back. “Of course I hate him! Everyone’s always like-”, Naruto cleared his throat before raising the pitch of his voice and twirling imaginary hair. “Sasuke’s like, he’s sooooo hot like, oh. My. God. So hot!! Like did you like, even see his tail!? Sooo shiny and nice and I bet I can totally make him fall in love with me hehe”.

“Hahahaha well, you’re not wrong”, Sakura laughed before grimacing, “That’s actually exactly how Ino acts, that bitch”.

Naruto smirked. “You know, if I didn’t know you any better, I’d say you hated the girl”.

Sakura stared at him in disbelief before sighing in frustration. “Ughhhhh oh whatever fuck you too. Main thing is that I’ll be attending the ceremony as a suitor so you better be there to support me”.

Naruto rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah fine. You sure being seen with me won’t reduce your chances?”

Sakura glanced over at the blonde, his orange tail swishing nervously despite his nonchalant attitude. She smiled eerily, “Any person stupid enough to refuse to look past your physical appearance can go fuck themselves. Seriously, people don’t give you enough credit which is unfortunate”.

Naruto sighed, almost sagging in relief before smiling at his friend. “Thanks Sakura. Of course I’ll support you. After all, Uchiha Sasuke is supposedly one hell of a catch huh?” He winked at her, ignoring the twitching of his tail as he uttered those words. “When is it anyway?”

“Oh it’s actually just next week”, Sakura replied animatedly, before launching into a rant about the unfairness of the short notice.

But Naruto’s mind was elsewhere, too focused on the thought that the ceremony had happened to perfectly line up with the timing of his one heat in the entire year.

#naruto x sasuke #sasunaru #sasuke x naruto #abo au #au #fanfiction #tails ftw #awww fox naruto