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skiesuconn · 2 months ago

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daydreams of us

paige bueckers & azzi fudd

യ notes: hey beautiful people, before you wonder where 'fireflies of virginia' is, don't worry — it's still in the making. this little piece just came to me over breakfast. i'd love to hear what you think. it feels like younger pazzi to me, but i'll leave that for you to decide.

wishing you a sweet read.

there might be a part 2

the lake exhales a lazy hush against the dock pilings while a crimson‑gold dusk unfurls over the bueckers’ cabin, painting the pine tops like burnt sugar. supper smoke still hangs sweet in the air—charred bratwurst, maple‑kissed corn—blurring at the edges like a half‑remembered dream. the minnesota heat finally loosens its grip, swapping noon’s heavy breath for a velvet evening pulse fired with cricket chatter.

paige pads across the clearing, arms stacked with split birch that smells of winter fireplaces and childhood win streaks. splinters braid into her palms, but she barely feels them; ritual keeps her weightless. behind her, drew carts the smaller slivers, tongue poked out in fierce concentration, every step a promise he’ll carry more next year. their dad, bob, leans on the porch rail—calloused thumbs hooked in belt loops, face lit by the warm bruise of sunset—quietly clocking the same tradition replay in softer focus.

azzi claims a patch of grass by the pit, legs folded beneath her like a prayer. camp‑smoke curls through her curls, haloing sweat‑kissed freckles the minnesota fair left behind. paige drops the logs, settles beside her; their knees knock, then stay—tiny frontier staked between worlds. azzi’s jean shorts brush paige’s bare shin, leaving a spark that feels louder than drew’s metal tongs clanging in the background.

bob clears his throat, voice low. “azzi, wanna start the fire?”

azzi glances sideways. paige is already grinning that reckless toothy grin, azzi rolls her eyes, snatches the matchbook. “of course”

she crumples last year’s sports page—paige’s stat line circled in neon highlighter—and tucks it under the birch. one flick, sulfur bloom, and the paper sighs into flame. azzi shields the newborn blaze, coaxing it the way she coaxes timid freshmen at open gyms: gentle, certain, patient. flames ladder up bark, licking resin until it pops like tiny applause.

drew whoops. “chef’s kiss, azzi!”

bob chuckles, pride rumbling in the timber of his chest.

paige slips a hand to azzi’s thigh, squeezes—a silent attagirl—thumb tracing slow circles just north of denim seam. heat isn’t only in the fire; it’s pulsing where their skin meets, an ember neither quite knows how to bank. azzi’s shoulders soften; she tosses paige a sidelong beam, equal parts smug and shy, and the moment hangs syrup‑thick in the twilight.

above them, the first stars blink awake, like scoreboard lights waiting for tip. somewhere in the treeline an owl asks its eternal question, but for once paige doesn’t need an answer. the fire crackles, marshmallows wait their turn, and she’s certain—down to the woodsmoke buried under her nails—that this is the kind of win that never makes the box score but fills every column just the same.

evening slips toward nightfall, fire popping soft punctuation into the hush. smoke swirls like a half‑remembered hymn while conversation ambles—loose shoes on gravel—between stories that matter and ones that just feel good on the tongue.

bob nudges a cedar log with his boot. “told azzi yet how you used to call cinnamon ‘simmanin’ till, what, eighth grade?”

paige groans, cheeks warming bronze on bronze. “dad, c’mon.”

azzi snorts, curls bouncing. “sim‑ma‑nin? that’s adorable.”

bob’s weathered grin widens. “she’d stand on the kitchen stool, fistful of toast, and swear she’d never need to say it right to make the shot.”

“accuracy over articulation,” paige mutters, tossing a pebble into the flames. it sparks like a tiny meteor.

bob isn’t done. “or the kindergarten talent show—she tried reciting ‘peter piper’? turned into ‘pader paper picked a peck’—”

azzi’s laughter cracks open the night, bright and honest. paige tries a scowl; it melts just as quick.

finally she huffs, playful surrender. “okay, roast master, we need skewers. mission time.”

bob points with a graham cracker. “grab the stash by the tool shed. bring options.”

hand in hand, paige and azzi slip into the trees, giggles trailing like comet tails. the shed—a weather‑stained boot of a building—smells of sawdust, old campfires, carnival sugar somehow trapped in the grain. jars of nails line up like sleepy soldiers; a bundle of roasting sticks leans in the corner, still perfumed with last summer’s molten marshmallows.

paige rifles through sizes, explaining each like draft picks: “jumbo reach for s’more hogs… sharpshooters for some caramelization…”

but azzi isn’t listening to any of that. her gaze maps the freckles blooming on paige’s sun‑kissed cheeks, the faint tan line ghosting beneath her collar. late light drips amber down paige’s throat; every shadow feels like a secret directory azzi suddenly needs to memorize.

paige glances up, caught. “az, which one?”

azzi steps into her space, heartbeat sure. “this one.” she fists paige’s hoodie, pulls her in. lips meet—slow, wondering, then certain. paige’s hands slide under the hem of azzi’s tee, palms settling on the curve of denim and warmth. azzi laughs into the kiss, breath hitching like a guitar string.

wood creaks, dust motes waltz. time forgets itself for a dozen heartbeats.

when they part, paige’s grin is wobblier than a calf on ice. “i like that one.”

azzi shoves her gently, mock‑exasperated. “go pick an actual stick, lovergirl.” she steps out into twilight, pulse drumming a victory march.

back fireside, bob raises an eyebrow. “what took you girls so long?”

azzi bites her lip, shoulders hitching. paige tosses a shrug. “azzi’s… a bit indecisive.”

she glances down—empty‑handed. realization sparks redder than the coals. “oh shoot.” she pivots, jogging toward the shed, hair flying like a white‑gold banner.

azzi’s laughter chases her. drew watches over the rim of his soda can, smirk borderline criminal. fire pops again, as if in on the joke, and the night settles back into its slow, sweet simmer—stories, smoke, and the secret taste of cotton‑candy kisses no one will spell out loud.

the fire has collapsed to a red‑eyed hush, coals winking like tired satellites beneath a lattice of ash. night presses velvet to the clearing; every cricket note feels hand‑picked by the moon. azzi nudges a charred husk of corn away from her plate, nose scrunching. “i love you, but marshmallows and corn is a crime.”

paige grins, skewers a gooey cloud, smashes it against the buttery kernels, and brandishes the mess. “open up, taste‑bud coward.”

azzi’s protest is swallowed—literally—as paige gentle‑but‑force‑feeds the concoction. sugar crashes into salt, silk into crunch. azzi’s eyes flare wide. “okay, betrayal never tasted so good.”

“knew it,” paige gloats, sticky victory dimpling her cheeks.

bob stands, joints creaking like old stadium bleachers. “bedtime for the elder league. douse the fire before you crash.”

“night, dad,” paige calls. azzi echoes a soft goodnight. drew lumbers over, hugs his sister, then wraps azzi in a hold that lingers a beat too long—sincere and a little star‑struck. azzi ruffles his curls. “sleep tight, pookie.”

paige fakes offense. “i’m not your pookie?”

azzi only smirks, the answer simmering unspoken.

once footsteps fade into cabin wood‑groans, the girls stretch on the grass, the world tilting so the stars slide right into their pockets. azzi’s calves drape over paige’s thighs, her head pillowed on paige’s arm; their breathing syncs, slow tide on moonlit grass.

they’re laying sideways, tangled — azzi’s calf draped lazy over paige’s thigh, toes brushing the worn fabric of paige’s shorts.

paige tries — she really tries — to count the freckles scattered under azzi’s eyes, but she keeps getting wrecked by the curve of azzi’s mouth, pink and tilted into a slow, private smile.

her stomach flips. hard.

"hey," paige mutters, voice cracking like cheap vinyl.

"can you make pancakes tomorrow? drew’s been begging."

azzi laughs low in her throat, so soft paige feels it before she hears it.

she leans in, presses a quick kiss against paige’s cheek, lips featherlight and stupidly warm.

"of course," azzi mumbles, brushing her nose against paige’s.

paige watches her — the curl falling across her forehead, the shine in her eyes, the way her tank top shifts with every slow breath — and she just… says it.

"he’s been looking at you like a role model, you know," paige says, thumb brushing absent shapes into azzi’s hipbone.

azzi pulls back just enough to blink at her.

"really?"

"oh yeah," paige grins. "he’s been asking about you all summer. you’re basically his whole personality now."

azzi’s smile turns crooked, shy but proud.

"he thinks he’s your number one fan," paige adds, voice teasing-soft, "but, like... you know that ain’t true."

azzi’s eyes spark, playful.

"jealous of a kid, bueckers?"

paige snorts, feels herself flush under the weight of azzi’s gaze — the way it sticks, heavy and sure.

azzi leans in, thumb hooking into the loose collar of paige’s hoodie, pulling her closer until their mouths brush — soft, slow, devastating.

paige catches the tiny moan that slips out of azzi, swallows it between smiling lips.

her fingers find azzi’s curls, loose and damp with night mist, twirling them lazily around her knuckles — holding her there like she’s something fragile, precious, real.

paige exhales a strand of hair off azzi’s brow. “why are you looking at me like that?” azzi murmurs.

“like what?”

“you know like what.”

“swear i don’t.”

“you so do.”

azzi shifts, the firelight brushing her eyes with a soft bronze glow. she bites her bottom lip—the soft click of teeth to skin—paige’s gaze drops, traction lost. azzi leans in first; paige meets her halfway. marshmallow‑sweet and hops‑bitter glide across tongues. a startled moan slips free, tiny and real.

paige breaks for air, thumb drawing worn-in paths across the warm stretch of azzi’s ribs. “this okay?”

azzi’s answer is to tug her closer, the meadow becoming a single heartbeat. paige’s hand slides beneath azzi’s white tee, fingers mapping the gentle rise of her stomach, the curve of her waist. azzi clutches paige’s shoulders, grounding herself in muscle and trust.

kisses trail south—jaw, throat, the tender dip where collarbone meets promise. vanilla lotion, bonfire smoke, and summer sweat weave a spell. paige nips azzi’s shoulder, earning a breathy laugh that tastes like victory on home court.

then azzi’s palm settles against paige’s cheek, halting the descent. “wait.”

brown‑blue eyes lock. cicadas pause, as if eavesdropping.

“we can’t do this here,” azzi whispers.

paige brushes her nose along azzi’s. “could.”

“shouldn’t,” azzi counters, smile curving. logic threaded with longing.

paige rolls off, offers her hand. “okay, lead the fast break.”

they stand up, grass seeds clinging to clothes. halfway to the porch, azzi gasps, “fire.”

“shoot.” paige pivots, snags the waiting bucket her dad stashed. she pours slow; water meets ember with a hiss like soda fizz, steam curling up to kiss her face. the last sparks die courteous and soft—fireflies bowing out.

she watches the smoke swirl, feels a small pride unfurl; lessons passed down in crackle and caution. then she sprints back, sneakers thumping hush‑heavy earth.

azzi’s silhouette waits by the doorframe, haloed in warm cabin light—safe harbor, open arms. paige slips inside, fingers laced with hers, door whispering shut behind them. outside, the lake catches starlight like scattered confetti; inside, two heartbeats learn a quieter rhythm—slow dribble, sure shot, summer night still stretching its promise long after the flames have gone to sleep.

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi #uconn wbb #paige x azzi #fluff #wlw fiction #wlw #uconn wcbb #pazzi fics #sapphic #paige bueckers x reader

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t1rkb · 4 months ago

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Teenage Orphaned Ninja Witches (Bonus Characters April, Casey, Splinter, Shredder)

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autismswagsummit · 9 months ago

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Round 3 is here!

We're back from the Wheel again (though it's really a redundant statement at this point), and the bracket has been updated accordingly. We won't be splintering the rounds this time, all polls will be coming out on the same day from now on. We'll start again on October the 7th, same time as usual.

ROUND 3

Donatello Hamato (Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) v.s Snufkin (Moominvalley)

Princess Bubblegum (Adventure Time) v.s Zane Julien (Lego Ninjago)

Ferb Fletcher (Phineas & Ferb) v.s Twilight Sparkle (My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic)

Data Soong (Star Trek) v.s Miles Edgeworth (Ace Attorney)

Laios Touden (Dungeon Meshi) v.s Link (The Legend of Zelda)

Luz Noceda (The Owl House) v.s Lilo Pelekai (Lilo & Stitch)

Entrapta (She Ra and the Princesses of Power) v.s Marina Ida (Splatoon)

Abed Nadir (Community) v.s Spongebob Squarepants (Spongebob Squarepants)

#autism #polls #tournament #autismsummit2024

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whizzing-fizzbee · 5 months ago

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Emergency Contact

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+, MDNI (smut, profanity), all characters are adults Words: 5,795 Tags: friends to strangers to lovers, post-Hogwarts, 2nd person POV

Summary: You haven't seen or heard from Sebastian Sallow in three years after a falling out splintered your friendship. But a sudden, urgent owl from St. Mungo's reveals he's been seriously injured, and you're still his emergency contact.

Notes: Just a random little one-shot I wrote in two parts so those who want to skip the smut can do so. Part I is plot. Part II is smut. Characters are post-Hogwarts adults.

Read on AO3 or both parts below the cut.

Part I

The moment your body was through the doorway, your shoulders slumped and your shoes were off.

Work had become particularly exhausting as of late. Most recently, your curse breaking career had led you to Albania, where you’d spent two weeks decoding a cursed chest of scriptures found in a coastal cove.

Now, all you could think about was how badly you wanted to crawl into bed and remain for three days. A quick glance at the clock told you it was nearly midnight, so you decided to forego dinner and get straight to sleep.

A brief hot shower and change of clothes and you nearly cartwheeled into bed, cozying beneath the covers until you sighed contentedly.

But as soon as you squeezed your eyes shut, a rapping against your bedroom window jolted you upright.

“Not now,” you groaned as you spotted a small brown owl hovering outside the glass. You begrudgingly hurled the covers off and pulled yourself out of bed to greet the unfamiliar visitor.

You assumed it was your next work assignment, though you were supposed to have three days between them. But as you snapped the envelope’s seal, you recognized the official logo and letterhead of St. Mungo’s Hospital.

You quickly scanned the scribbles on the parchment, your ears ringing more with each word.

The Ministry of Magic has your name listed on file as an emergency contact for Mr. Sebastian R. Sallow.

We regret to inform you Mr. Sallow was injured while on a Ministry assignment this evening. Please see us at St. Mungo’s Hospital at your quickest and earliest convenience.

Regards, Melinda J. Meadows, Lead Healer St. Mungo’s Hospital, London

Your eyes processed the letter much faster than your brain. But even after you read it no less than ten times, they lingered on one single line: Sebastian R. Sallow.

You hadn’t seen your former friend in three years. All you knew was he was an Auror. The fallout was still raw and real, a cloud of cruel memories that clung to you like smoke on your clothes. You both said things you didn’t mean. You exchanged unfair accusations and low blows meant to sting. But they inflicted much more than shallow wounds; they sank deep below your surface and rooted there, lingering even after all this time.

You blinked away your disbelief and snapped into action. Something terrible had happened to Sebastian, rendering your past differences meaningless. You needed to get to him immediately.

The air inside St. Mungo’s felt anything but still. The hospital’s corridors seemed to hum with an unsettling aura, as if pulsing the walls with life would balance out the death and dying happening inside them.

You approached the front reception desk with fear and confusion, unsure what you were about to learn. Your former friend was hurt, and you didn’t know how grave it was. You were scared for him, despite not having seen him in years.

You were also bewildered. How could you possibly still be Sebastian Sallow’s emergency contact? He clearly had forgotten to update his information since your falling out, but it surprised you. The ties you severed weren’t frayed; they were a clean cut, made with the sharpest knife of finality and reprehension. As far as you knew, Sebastian had no intentions of ever reentering your life.

“Excuse me,” you said feebly to the witch working the front desk. “I- I’m here to visit Sebastian Sallow.”

“Your relation to the patient?”

“Huh?”

“Are you a spouse or family member?”

“I… Neither. But I’m his emergency contact.”

“Let me check his records.”

You rocked back and forth between your heels and toes as you waited impatiently. You realized the hospital was cold and found yourself wishing you’d brought a jacket or sweater… then you felt foolish and guilty for thinking such a thing when your former friend may be gravely injured.

“Ah, I see. Here you are,” the receptionist said as she handed you a visitor badge. “You can go see him. Room 424.”

“Thank you.”

Your pace matched your rapid heartbeat as you hurried through the hospital and took the lift to the fourth floor. The room numbers climbed higher, and so did your pulse. You were about to see him again for the first time in three years. He surely wouldn’t be prepared to see you, nor were you ready to see him.

But you had to. You were apparently the only person he had.

Room 421, 422, 423… you paused as 424 came into view, lingering outside the room. The door was wide open but curtains surrounded the bed. You could see at least two healers inside, bustling about.

Oh god, you couldn’t do this. How could you be expected to? You shouldn’t be here. This wasn’t your place, because you no longer had a place in this man’s life.

You closed your eyes and swallowed, willing yourself for a surge of courage. How could you possibly be such a fucking coward right now, when your old friend needed you? You were once a hero. You saved your entire school from a goblin rebellion. You’d freed numerous creatures from vicious poachers. You looked dark magic in the face on countless occasions. But you couldn’t look Sebastian Sallow in the face now.

You heaved a deep breath, your palms sweating as your feet finally shuffled forward toward the room. You lingered in the doorframe, your eyes scanning the room warily until one of the healers noticed your presence.

“Oh!” she said as she waved you to enter the room. “Are you Mrs. Sallow?”

“What? Oh, no. I’m his emergency contact, though.”

“Well, come in. I’m Healer McCartney,” she said with a smile that didn’t meet her eyes. “I should prepare you, though. He’s in rough shape.”

You nodded. “What happened?”

“From what his colleagues said, sounds like he was hit with a combination of aggressive offensive spells – definitely Sectumsempra and Fiendfyre, and something else… some kind of hex that’s left some nasty scars and skin patterns. We don’t know what it was. He’s lost a lot of blood but he’ll survive,” Healer McCartney explained.

You breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t dead. He wasn’t going to die. That was all you could ask for right now.

“Can… can I see him?” you finally asked. Healer McCartney nodded silently and reached for the curtain. She offered you a grim smile as she yanked the curtain backward.

Your breath caught in your throat. This wasn’t the same man you’d known three years ago. If it wasn’t for those familiar freckles, you’d wonder if you had the wrong room number.

But it was undeniably him. His brunette hair was shorter now, cut into a more refined style than the tousled mop you previously knew. He’d also bulked up a bit, his arms more muscular and his chest broader. He still had those long legs, though they were less lanky and much sturdier now.

He was unconscious and shirtless. You swallowed at the sight – his shirt had been cut away, discarded in a bloody heap on the floor. Bandages now wrapped his torso which was still smeared with blood. Black streaks snaked across his chest and shoulders like trails of smoke, evidence of the sinister hex that had struck him.

“Sebastian,” you whispered breathlessly. Tears pooled in your eyes and you steeled yourself. This wasn’t how you wanted to be reunited.

“I’m going to go fetch the lead healer,” Healer McCartney said. “Wait here. She’ll need some information for you.”

You opened your mouth to tell her you couldn’t provide any information, that you didn’t really know this man anymore, but no words came out. You watched Healer McCartney scurry from the room and returned your gaze to Sebastian. He was breaking your heart all over again.

The end of your friendship damn near destroyed you three years prior. Sebastian lashed out at you over Anne’s treatment. St. Mungo’s was offering a clinical trial on a new experimental potion that might greatly reduce the symptoms of Anne’s curse, but the potential side effects were gruesome.

Anne had been apprehensive about the trial drug, so you sided with her, wanting to respect her wishes. Sebastian became frustrated and insisted there was nothing to lose.

“Nothing but your sister’s dignity,” you’d chided dryly. Sebastian unleashed a barrage of furious and hurtful words your way, and in defense, you hurled them right back. Soon, the argument was no longer about Anne. Years of suppressed declarations and tension erupted from you both, on the topic of everything from your romantic partners to the tragic events of your fifth year at Hogwarts.

The damage was irreversible and you walked out of Sebastian’s life, for what was intended to be for good. This was not supposed to be your reconciliation.

Healer McCartney soon returned with another woman, who introduced herself as Healer Meadows, the person who had owled you.

“Are you a relative?” she asked. You shook your head as you wondered how many times you’d have to tell people you weren’t a spouse or family member.

“I’m… just a friend,” you answered.

“You’re his emergency contact though, yes? You’re the one I owled?”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell me if he has any health conditions we should know about?”

“N- no? I don’t know.”

“Does he take any potions or medications?”

“I don’t know.”

Healer Meadows gazed at you with clear annoyance.

“Do you know his family medical history?”

“No, both his parents died when he was young. And his sister… she died about a year ago.”

“Is there anything you can tell us about him? Anything about his health we should know at all?”

“No,” you sighed. “Look, he and I haven’t been in contact for three years. I really don’t know what his health is like. As far as I know, he’s healthy.”

“But you were his emergency contact,” Healer Meadows repeated.

“Yes, I know. I’m guessing he forgot to update his information when we… dissolved our friendship.”

“I see.”

“Sorry I can’t be of more help. I just really don’t know.”

“Well, thank you for coming,” Healer Meadows hummed as she turned to examine Sebastian. “We think he’ll make a full recovery. He’s just very weak now.”

“What about the hex?”

“It appears to be neurological,” Healer Meadows explained. “Meaning there may be some nerve damage. We won’t know until he’s awake and moves his appendages.”

“But overall he’ll… he’ll be okay?”

Healer Meadows offered you a thin smile that was likely more of a grimace. “I don’t know,” she answered. “He’ll survive, yes, but we won’t know the extent of his injuries until he wakes up.”

“And when will that be?”

“We’ve given him a sleeping draught and some pain potion. I expect he’ll sleep through the remainder of the night. If you’d like to go home, I can owl you when he wakes up.”

“I’d like to stay,” you said much more forcefully than you’d intended. “If that’s allowed,” you added gently.

Healer Meadows nodded. “Very well,” she said, eyeing you up and down for a fleeting moment. “I’ll have Healer McCartney fetch you a blanket.”

It was nearly 2:00 in the morning by the time you settled into the bedside chair. It was anything but comfy but you weren’t planning on getting much sleep anyway. Once the healers had all cleared out of the room, you gazed at Sebastian in silence.

The tightness in your chest was painful, a menacing, constricting ache that worried you. You hoped you weren’t suffering from some sort of heart attack at the sight of Sebastian’s state, but you also were too worried about him to care.

A sliver of silver moonlight snuck through the wispy white window curtains, casting shadows over Sebastian’s face. You watched as his bare chest rose and fell with his breaths. It was a sight you once adored more than anything.

Your falling out with Sebastian fissured more than your friendship. It unraveled your heartstrings and stole the piece of your soul that was meant to be shared with another human being. You hadn’t been the same since.

You loved Sebastian, more than just friends or kindred spirits, as you called yourselves. You loved him like home; like a sip of hot cider on a chilly evening, or like the sound of the swaying trees when you sailed above them on your broomstick. You loved him passionately, fiercely and unconditionally, but you knew you had to love yourself more.

Because for all the brilliance and blaze that you saw in Sebastian Sallow, there was also a shell of a man, emptied by the cruel complexities of life. Dead parents by age 10, a dead uncle who had never wanted him to begin with, and a dead sister whose life had been cut short by a treacherous curse. Life drained Sebastian of much hope or happiness. Even his eternal optimism couldn’t surmount life’s lashings.

It made him angry and bitter. His temper was short and his moods were thunderstorms that sometimes lingered for weeks on end. His outlook on life became futile. It dragged you down until you also felt his despair, and when he launched harsh, irrevocable words at you, you decided you had to let him go in order to save yourself.

You didn’t want to give up on him. You had been the only one who supported him through everything. But you couldn’t keep killing yourself for a man who couldn’t even see how much you loved him.

“Oh Sebastian,” you whispered as you continued to watch him sleep. “Please, be okay. I still need you.”

By 4 a.m., you finally fell asleep.

---

You startled the following morning at the sound of Healer Meadows bustling around the room. You straightened in your chair and squeezed your eyes open and shut to pull the room into focus. When everything became clear, you froze.

He was awake. He was awake and he was staring at you.

“Sebastian,” you breathed as you scrambled to your feet.

“You’re here,” he croaked.

“Of course, I am. I mean, you still had me listed as your emergency contact, so…” your voice trailed off, unsure how to continue.

“Oh,” Sebastian managed. “Sorry. I guess I forgot to change that.”

“It’s okay,” you said reassuringly. “How are you feeling?”

“Like hell.”

“You look like it, too.”

“Thanks.”

You couldn’t help but crack the faintest smile. Your guard was up but your nerves were starting to melt. He was awake. He was alive. And he wasn't lashing out at you.

A blanket had been tossed over Sebastian, but you could see his bare shoulder, still covered with the hex’s claw marks.

“Your shoulder,” you whispered “Can you move it? Can you feel anything?”

Sebastian nodded. “I can,” he said slowly. “But it burns. When I move, it feels like there’s fire coursing down my arm.”

“We think our alchemists can concoct a cure,” Healer Meadows chimed in. “It’ll take nearly a week, but we’re hopeful.”

Your tense shoulders relaxed at the news. “That’s brilliant,” you breathed. “Thank Merlin.”

Healer Meadows left the room and you could feel Sebastian’s eyes burning into the side of your head. When you finally turned to meet his gaze, his expression remained unchanged.

“Why did you come here?” he asked quietly.

“Because they sent for me,” you answered. It wasn’t the entire truth, of course. You came because you always would, even when Sebastian didn’t want you there.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” you replied softly. “But… I had to make sure you were okay.”

The gates of defense were open now. You were both inviting one another in, with cautious optimism that your past could remain in unspoken territory.

“Well, thank you,” Sebastian said. “I appreciate it.”

But before you crossed that threshold, before you could step back into Sebastian’s life or allow him to do the same, you had to be sure.

“Do you… do you want me to go?” you asked carefully. The answer might kill you.

“No… not unless you want to,” Sebastian said. You could see the familiar traces of vulnerability in his eyes that were once reserved only for you. Everyone else saw Sebastian’s hardened exterior, but you had once peeled back the layers for a glimpse at the softness beneath.

“I can stay,” you said gently. “As long as you want me to.”

And so, you did stay. You stayed as the healers came and went. You stayed as Sebastian’s colleagues came to check on him. You stayed as you shared updates on your lives, swapping stories about your work adventures. You told him about the cursed objects you’d encountered during your travels while he recalled the duel with a cabal of dark wizards that had landed him in that hospital bed.

You stayed with Sebastian, but you had no idea you’d never actually leave again.

---

Five days after Sebastian’s admittance to St. Mungo’s, you found yourself lounging lazily in that same bedside chair. It was like nothing had ever happened.

The two of you joked and teased, laughed about old memories and dipped your toes into nostalgic moments you’d shared. The sharp words you once swapped were cast away and replaced with new declarations of a renewed friendship. You were so happy, you practically skipped through the halls of St. Mungo’s when you came to visit each morning.

This day was particularly exciting, because the potion to heal Sebastian’s shoulder was set to be complete. They’d keep him for another night to monitor the potion’s progress, and then he’d be sent home.

You learned he didn’t live far away from you, in a flat two neighborhoods over. You also learned he lived alone, no romantic partners or other responsibilities.

But you also learned that Sebastian had become a recluse since Anne’s death. When his colleagues came to visit, you spent some time catching up with Everett Clopton as Sebastian slept. Everett was also an auror, and he confided that Anne’s death had dragged Sebastian downward to an alarming, dark place. It left him reckless and impulsive, a familiar version of himself you’d seen your fifth year. You didn’t abandon him then, and you decided you wouldn’t do that now. Sebastian needed someone, and you wanted so badly for it to be you.

“I can’t wait to get out of here,” Sebastian groaned as you beat him at another round of chess.

“I don’t think a change of scenery is going to change the result of these chess matches,” you mused. “I’ll still kick your ass.”

“So you’re still going to come around once I’m out of here?”

“Oh.” Your cheeks flushed. You hadn’t discussed the nature of your friendship now. What if Sebastian was merely using you for entertainment while he was stuck in the hospital? He’d used and manipulated you in the past, back before you became close friends. Could he do it again, even in spite of your history together? “Well, only if you still want to hang out,” you said shyly.

Sebastian snorted, his arms folded across his chest. “Of course, I do,” he said. “I’m not going to spoil our second chance.”

Your mouth became dry instantly, unsure of how to respond to such a declaration. It moved you. It made you want to clap and squeal, or fling yourself onto the bed to hug him. You were back in each other’s lives, but more importantly, you were both committed to staying there.

“In all seriousness,” Sebastian said as he eyed you with a soft sincerity. “I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am for everything you’ve done here… and how sorry I am for everything I did in the past.”

“Sebastian-”

“I mean it,” he continued. “Life’s been miserable without you and I’ve wanted to make amends for years, but I was tired of tainting you with all my darkness.”

“Maybe I just wanted to be the light to that darkness,” you said softly. “Seb, I’m always here for you. Life’s been cruel to you, but you don’t have to face it alone.”

“I know,” he said, swallowing as if he was becoming emotional. “I know that now. And I swear to you, I won’t fuck it up. You’ve always meant the most to me.”

You smiled and reached for his hand, the first time you’d done so since the day Sebastian arrived at the hospital. You squeezed his hand and he held yours until the healers arrived with the potion.

---

There was an extra pep in your step the following morning. The potion had worked, meaning Sebastian would finally be released from St. Mungo’s. You were going to meet him there and accompany him back to his flat to make sure he had everything he needed.

You’d also put a little extra effort into your appearance that morning. Your hair cascaded over your shoulders in soft curls and you put on your favorite dress and perfume.

It’s not that you’d expected anything to happen with Sebastian. The two of you were merely friends again, and you’d told yourself you were okay with that. Simply having Sebastian back in your life was enough. Still, you wanted to look pretty.

Your shoes clacked against the marble floors of St. Mungo’s as you made a beeline for room 424. You’d been there so many times that week, you could walk that route with your eyes closed. But when you reached the door, you stopped dead in your tracks.

The room was empty and the bed was vacant, its linens stripped completely. You caught Healer Meadows in the corridor from the corner of your eye and hustled after her.

“Healer Meadows, where’s Sebastian?”

She turned to look at you in confusion. “He was released first thing this morning,” she said. “Surely you knew that.”

“I only knew he’d be released today,” you replied. “I… I thought I was supposed to meet him here.”

“He was awfully eager to get home,” Healer Meadows said with a shrug. “Perhaps try there.”

But you didn’t go there after you left the hospital. Your insecurity reared its ugly head, suffocating all of your logic and reasoning.

What if Sebastian lied? Maybe he didn’t actually intend on maintaining your friendship. Maybe he changed his mind and decided you weren’t worth the time and effort. Maybe you simply didn’t mean that much to him.

So you headed home, walking instead of apparating to clear your head. But by the time you reached the front door to your townhome, tears had stained your cheeks. They blurred your vision so much, you didn’t notice the figure sitting on your front steps.

“Sebastian?” you whispered as you stopped. “You’re here.”

Sebastian scrambled to his feet. “I couldn’t wait to see you,” he admitted. “They released me from the hospital first thing, but I didn’t want to wait around for you to arrive. I was hoping you’d still be here by the time I arrived.”

“Oh,” you said stupidly. “I just left the hospital.”

“I figured,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry for making you make the trip.”

“It’s fine,” you said as you breathed a soft laugh. “Do you want to come inside?”

“I’d love that.”

Sebastian followed you quietly as you unlocked and entered your townhome. You could hear his footsteps behind you as you led him into the living room, and you smiled to yourself as you realized his tread sounded the same as it had years ago.

“Nice place,” he mused as his gaze drifted around your home.

“Thank you.”

You were met with a mutual silence that made you avert your own gaze. Finally, you cleared your throat as you kicked off your shoes. “Can… can I get you something to eat or drink?”

“Oh. Er, sure,” Sebastian answered.

“Tea?”

“That’d be nice.”

He followed you to the kitchen, where you put on a tea kettle.

“So would you like me to come over later?” you asked casually as you gathered a pair of tea mugs from a cabinet. “I can help you get settled back into your flat.”

“I was only out a week,” Sebastian chuckled.

“I know. But it’s been a hell of a week.”

“Too true. But I’m not too worried about it. I’m in no rush to get back there… unless you want to get rid of me, of course.”

“Not yet,” you quipped. “But ask me again later.”

Sebastian smiled at you, and there was something about the way his eyes seemed to call to you that made your stomach flip.

“Well, I’d like to stick around as long as you’ll let me,” Sebastian continued.

“Seb, you just spent an entire week with me. Aren’t you sick of me?”

“On the contrary, it’s not been enough.”

Sebastian took a step toward you. His eyes seemed to cling to every one of your features, and you were certain he could hear your heart hammering in your chest. “Oh,” you said blankly, begging your face to stop flushing.

Everything unfolded in slow motion, yet all at once. Sebastian reached for you, a hand cupping the side of your face. You held your breath as he leaned in, slowly, slowly, much too slowly, until his lips were pressed against yours. It was soft and sweet, but you didn’t want it to remain that way.

You answered with eight years of desperate desire. You clutched the front of his shirt and pulled him harder against your lips until he had to hold your waist to steady you both.

Your lips moved in sync until your tongues battled. It was a perfect duel that left you both panting for air.

Sebastian smirked. “Sick of me yet?”

“Oh, shut up.”

You yanked him into another kiss that set your new status in motion. You were no longer friends. Now, you were exactly who you were meant to be.

Part II (Smut warning)

You don’t know how long you stood there in your kitchen with your arms draped around Sebastian’s neck as you kissed him, but soon, you found yourself sitting on the ledge of the counter with your legs draped around his torso.

Your brain surged with dopamine while your core surged with arousal. Sebastian’s lips attacked your neck, his hands skimming over the tops of your thighs, as your head dipped backward against a cabinet.

Your eyes clung to Sebastian as you watched him slip his sweater over his head. He was quick to notice the way your gaze shifted from lust to concern. You couldn’t help it. The hex had left streaks across his shoulder, angry and red. They looked painful, though Sebastian had insisted he didn’t feel a thing.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly as he watched you study the imperfections across his skin, his eyes wide with concern. “Does it bother you?”

“What?” you breathed. “Sebastian, no. It doesn’t bother me. It just-” Your voice cracked. “It just stirs up a lot of emotion. I’m sorry. I just… seeing you like that in that hospital bed, thinking you might not recover – that we might not recover – it just makes me emotional.”

Sebastian smiled kindly and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “But we’re here now,” he said softly. “And we will recover. You understand that, right? You and I… it’s different this time because we aren’t holding anything back.”

You nodded silently in response and he leaned in to kiss you again. You could feel his lips forming a smile against yours. It reassured you more than words ever could.

Sebastian’s hands drifted to the small of your back, pulling you closer to the counter’s ledge, closer to him. Your thighs instinctively squeezed tighter around his waist until he was lifting you away from the counter.

He whisked you from the kitchen toward the corridor, where he paused to kiss you. “Where to?” he murmured.

“Last door on the left.”

He couldn’t walk fast enough. By the time he ventured into your bedroom and dropped you gently onto the bed, your skin was hot and your brain was buzzing. A mere week ago, you were returning home to this bed set to fall asleep alone. Sebastian hadn’t been in your life and you thought you were content with ignoring his existence.

Now, after everything that transpired, you couldn’t let him go again if you wanted.

Sebastian crawled on top of you, his legs flanking your waist as he placed sweet, gentle kisses along your neck. His hand roamed downward over the curve of your waistline and beneath the hem of your dress. You could feel it skimming your skin until it reached your hip.

“Help me take this off,” you whispered. He helped you shimmy out of your dress and you watched him toss it aside to the floor. Sebastian stilled as he gazed downward at you, his eyes drinking in your bare chest. You, too, had scars and scrapes, battle wounds from all the dark wizards and goblins of your past.

“You’re so beautiful,” Sebastian breathed.

You reached a hand for his shoulder, your thumb tracing gently over the red trails that snaked across his flesh. “So are you.”

Sebastian smiled in understanding and returned his lips to your neck, planting a path of kisses to your shoulders before he found your breasts. You sucked in a sharp breath at the warmth of his tongue over your nipple while his hand squeezed the bump of your hip bone.

As your impatience mounted, you fiddled with the belt of Sebastian’s trousers until it clanked open. You immediately missed the warmth of his body as he fidgeted to kick them off with his briefs, leaving you to face his erection.

You tried to temper your breathing, scared the rise and fall of your chest was exposing your nerves. But as Sebastian leaned in to kiss you again, you became too turned on to care.

You shifted beneath him as the ache in your core demanded attention. Sebastian felt the way your hips rocked and smirked. You watched him with heavy eyelids as he peeled your panties down past your ankles, exposing every inch of your flesh to him.

“Fucking hell,” he hissed as he stared. He positioned himself between your knees until your legs were draped over his shoulders and his tongue was swiping over your slit. You whimpered at his touch.

Your eyes nearly rolled back into your head as his tongue flattened against your clit, nudging at it until your high-pitched whines became breathy moans. Sebastian’s hands explored your body while your own fingers became tangled in his hair. You squirmed beneath him, each panting breath signaling your impending climax.

More, more, more. That’s what you wanted to scream, but your brain remained unable to form words. Instead, your body responded for you, your hips jutting upward until Sebastian’s tongue met you with more force.

You cried out as your legs went rigid, arching your back off the mattress as the force inside you crumbled, sending pulses through your cunt. Sebastian’s tongue continued its assault on your entrance until you whined in protest, your legs slackening and your clit too sensitive for more.

But still, you wanted more. Your pulse raced as you watched Sebastian crawl toward you, his erection bobbing between your thighs. You were still panting in recovery from your climax, but as the tip of Sebastian’s cock pressed against your soaked entrance, you held your breath.

You could swear you felt every ridge as it sank slowly inside you, parting your walls as they stretched around him. Sebastian smiled at you as your chest heaved.

“Relax,” he murmured. “I’ll take care of you.”

You willed the tension to leave your shoulders as you allowed Sebastian to enter you fully. The delicious pressure enveloped your entire body, sending your nerve endings into overdrive. You couldn’t help but squeeze your cunt tighter around him, drawing a groan from Sebastian.

He rocked his hips forward and you moaned. Heaven couldn’t feel this good and hell couldn’t feel this hot. You squeezed your eyes shut as you focused on the friction within your core as Sebastian’s shaft dragged across your walls and his tip pressed into the deepest part of you.

Your fingers sank into his shoulder, leaving tiny crescent nail divots among his scars. If he felt them, he said nothing. Instead, he grit his teeth at your tight heat, his cock nudging you closer to the edge with each snap of his hips.

Sebastian was torn. The sight of your folds swallowing his cock was beyond anything he’d imagined, a vision he wanted burned into his mind forever. But he also felt a desperate longing to be close to you. He wanted to shower your face and lips with kisses while he whispered passionate prose in your ear.

“Seb, please,” you breathed, your eyes still closed tight. “Please.”

The way you begged, the way your flushed face strained in desperation and the way your slickness coated his cock, sent Sebastian into a determined frenzy set on feeling you fall apart for him.

His fingers sank hard into your hips as he drove himself into you, pulling your body toward him with each thrust, leaving the bedsheets clinging to the corners for dear life. You unleashed a series of moans, his cock driving you closer and closer to your peak.

You were desperate to lose control around him, and as you could feel the heat mounting, you waited. The timing had to be right. Finally, as Sebastian’s cock prodded your sweet spot, you forced an exhale until your body relaxed. It sent searing spasms across through your muscles and nerve endings, causing your thighs to quake. Your hips rose upward and you wailed as your walls convulsed hard, surging your climax around Sebastian’s cock.

He swore at the sensation and tumbled over the edge after you, his own back arching as he slammed inside you for the final time, grunting your name as he spilled himself.

He collapsed next to you, sharing the heat from his body with your skin. You rested your head against his chest, your eyes closing as you caught your breath and let your hazy head recover. The room was quiet. You liked it that way; not because you didn’t want to hear Sebastian speak, but because you wanted to relax into the peaceful scene and commit it to memory.

“One thing,” Sebastian finally said as he lazily played with your hair. “Do you want me to remove you as my emergency contact with the Ministry? I will if you want me to.”

Your tired eyes cracked open with a smile. “Whatever for?” you asked. “I can’t imagine anyone else is going to give you this kind of treatment.”

#MDNI #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #whizzing fizzbee fanfic

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xo2dee · 1 year ago

Text

🗨️ LEATHERS

PAIRING: Vergil/(Fem)Reader. WARNINGS: MDNI/18+ ONLY. Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Clothed Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Dirty Talk, Biting, Degradation, Breeding Kink, Creampie. WORD COUNT: 4,238. SUMMARY: Vergil likes your skirt. You hate his vest.

A/N: don't even know what to say about this, just i was down horrendous back when i wrote it. and vergil's vest and the way it works is so interesting to me. idk why he dresses like victorian man but i love it

DMC MASTERLIST

Indented nearly in the door behind you with your dignity all but shattered in the actions of the man biting at your neck and scratching onto the wood, you wonder what transpired to lead you to getting your guts rearranged once more by your lover.

You may have thought you were fast with your hands, but Vergil was faster with his hips.

Honestly, you couldn’t remember how you two ended up in that position; the morning started off fine when you woke up to him still in bed with you for once. Granted you two were in one of your weird positions again, his hand on top of your head in a grip and your leg thrown over his abdomen as you both laid on your backs with the covers halfway off the bed. After that it was noon, everything was fine it seemed even if he was following you around on your heels for once and hovering over you like some animal would its food. You chalked it up to him being in one of his weird moods again and ignored it mostly by just sending him questioning looks and receiving absolutely no answer but the same intense stare. It wasn’t until around seven o’clock when Dante left that it happened.

Wait… You remembered exactly how you two got like that.

It was a few moments after Dante left proclaiming he wanted a strawberry sundae from his favorite diner and Vergil oddly staring at the closed doors for it to happen. You gave him another disturbed look when he just was openly staring at the door and his head slowly turned around like an owl to look back at you, his gaze falling to your exposed thighs from the skirt you wore. It didn’t register until later that he was listening to Dante leave and only acting when he knew his younger twin wouldn’t return so soon and not interrupt you two. Though when a silvery burning gaze returned to your face and his eyes met yours, the message was loud and clear.

A horny Vergil was a rather feral one.

(Not that it was a bad thing either.)

That was how you found yourself with your legs locked around his waist against the damn door to the shop and him dick-deep into your guts.

Moments before he shoved himself inside of you, and nearly splintered the wood with how hard his hand smacked onto the door while muttering about your skirt, you voiced your concerns of Dante walking back in but once Dante’s name left your lips Vergil’s lip curled in disgust and his hand covered your mouth, his brows furrowing as he hissed against your neck:

“Don't speak of him when we’re like this.”

Understandable. If you had a twin, you probably want to think about them during sex either, and with that you didn’t mention anything like that again deciding to busy yourself with something else. That something else being how you wanted to take his vest off.

You both were fully clothed mostly, but highly indecent. Your skirt had been pulled up as high as he wanted it and you don’t even know where your panties went – though the lacy fabric hanging from the inside of his one of his coat’s pocket told you exactly where they went – but it was efficient enough for him to finger you three knuckles deep with two fingers until you were wet enough from him to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants and press himself inside of you starting off at a harsh speed. You didn’t mind it, all moans and choked pants into his shoulder, but the friction from his vest rubbing against your thighs and beginning to chafe them was annoying you. It was then you decided to just take matters into your hands since he had no intention of removing it that time.

Your hands had been quick to remove his coat, Vergil not even acknowledging it as he nearly drove you into the door, and you were moving to remove his vest when you stopped, pulling away from sucking on his shoulder to look at the intricate piece of clothing. It was like it had two layers to it, the bottom one always zipped up to his damn neck and the top buttoned overtop of it in four ways, and while peering down at it you realized you didn’t really know how to remove it; Vergil almost always removed his own clothing during sex and you never paid attention to how he did so, too preoccupied with the pleasure he gave you. Still, you wanted it off and with him busying himself trying not to break the door and trying to shove his dick deeper into you, you knew asking him was out the question and decided to do it yourself.

You grabbed the first button and pulled –

It didn’t budge. You tried again.

It was still buttoned. You huffed, suddenly feeling rather determined. Were they fucking superglued?

You started aggressively tugging at his vest and that got Vergil to pull away from burying his nose in your hair and pull back far enough to look at you, all flushed cheeks and hair beginning to fall from its position. An eyebrow rose as he spoke, “What are you doing?”

You rolled your hips when he slowed down a pace, leaning back some to pull more at the button, “Trying to unbutton this goddamn contraption you wear. Why do you wear it like this?”

A breath came out of him, and a hand dropped to your thigh as his hips slowed to a deep roll that nearly made your eyes cross, “Why don’t you ask nicely, and I’ll take it off.” You didn’t necessarily like how low his octave got at that, nor how it sent a sharp twinge into your lower abdomen that he caught onto when you clenched around him. Tease.

“I don’t wanna – fuck – hear it, when, when you earlier –” you whined when his thumb pressed down onto your clit and slowly rolled it into circles – “earlier you were almost foaming at the mouth at me in a skirt.” Yeah, you got him that time, especially when you broke off into a moan when he pinched you. Bastard was getting off watching you struggle.

You didn’t take but a few seconds to start back up again tugging at the first button again when he didn’t answer, causing Vergil’s sigh as he pulled you closer and ultimately moved away from the door and plopped you down onto the couch on your back. You yelped at the sudden loss of him but didn’t have much time to worry too much about it when he was saddling onto the couch and canting his hips between your thighs again, the tip of him sitting right at your opening. You blinked when he took your hands and rested it on the button of his vest, eyes taking in the new smirk on his lips.

“Take it off and I’ll give you what you want.”

You rolled your eyes, "Don't be like that, I know just how bad you wanna –"

"No. Either do it or beg me."

You could feel your cheeks erupt in warmth at his declaration, eyelashes fluttering at how bad it turned you on as well. So, he was in that mood and wanted you to beg for it? Well, he could forget it, you were going to rip that vest off of him and make him eat his words.

Shooting him a glare and watching his eyes only seem to light up at it, you pulled at it, fingers digging into the fabric to increase the force. You fought back the needy little gasp when Vergil’s hands tightened around your wrists, and he caught himself on your opening. You knew what he was doing, trying to push you over the edge and make you beg for him to fuck your brains out. He was damn good at it too, you hated to admit.

His head tilted as he watched you struggle, “What is it? Are you too weak?” he pushed his hips forward and sat his length on your clit, rubbing it and relishing in when your hands began to tremble, and face scrunched up from the sense of it.

You were unconsciously rocking your hips, “Who’s weak? Weren’t you the one who couldn’t handle seeing me in a skirt?” Part of you was egging him on to see if he’d surrender his little game and just fuck you into the couch, but when Vergil set his mind to something, he committed.

Vergil rolled his neck and hummed when it cracked, eyes lidded as he stared down at you, “We can stay like this all night, doesn’t matter to me. Watching you suffer like this at my hands is…” his nostrils flared as he trailed off, his hips moving faster to rub against you.

You couldn’t help the gasp then, toes curling into his pant leg and hips lifting slightly as the presence of an orgasm near made itself known. Your thumb was rubbing against the button then, nearly forgotten as your brain began to focus more on your own pleasure and the approaching release you could feel spiraling in your cunt. Your chest began to heave as he picked up a speed, your fluids beginning to drip downwards into the couch cushions as your mind only focused on one thing. Vergil, Vergil, Vergil.

You back arched as it was on the cusp, your lower abdomen twisting as a moan was beginning to break out and ready to throw your head back while you cried out for him, and it was close, close, close –

He stopped.

You made an indignant noise as he pulled away and let his cock sit on your inner thigh, his mouth fully lifting at one side and giving view to one of his adorable dimples. “You –”

“Me? I told you what you have to do, and you haven’t done it. You can’t put the blame on anyone but yourself,” Vergil released your wrists and ran a hand through his hair, the sweat on his forehead glistening as he tilted his head back in the action. "The other offer still stands if you're truly that desperate for me."

You were gonna kill him.

You tugged viciously on the button then to force your mind away from the beg that was sitting heavy on your tongue, pissed he was winning his game over you. God, did he have a demon magic instilled in them? Was that why the damn things never once unbuttoned, or his zipper never slid down to show a sliver of his skin? Vergil moved again as another husky sigh fell from him, and he moved himself back to your sopping opening and you tugged harder –

The top two buttons came undone and his reply to that was instantaneous.

He pushed himself halfway inside you then and you choked at the sudden intrusion, back arching and body jolting. Without thinking you tightened around the part of him inside of you while scrambling your hands up to reach for his zipper, only being stopped when he snatched both of your hands again with one of his own and steadied the other one on your hip. A tsk came from him at your reaction as he shallowly began to push in and out of you.

“That’s the first two, can you do the last two or are you ready to cave and beg me like the whimpering whore you are?” his words came out into a hiss at the end and if you were in your right mind, you would’ve noticed the near inaudible groan he let out as finished his sentence. It would’ve clued you in that he was less composed than he was letting off.

“Ass,” you grunted out and drew off into an actual whimper when his thumb returned to press onto your clit hard. You pressed your cheek into your shoulder and looked up at him, nearly shying away from how he was analyzing your every facial expression and every move your body made. His eyes were heavy on your own and you wiggled your hands in his grip to signify you were ready to try again.

The half-demon hummed and obliged your request, moving to set them on the third button before dropping his other hand and palm your breast through your shirt. Your eyes fluttered again when he circled your breast in the same motion as he was your clit, your hands beginning to shake again when he picked up the speed and your orgasm was right back on its track again.

Your mouth was moving before you could stop it, “Don’t tease me.”

“Hmm?” he leaned closer, angling his head so your mouth was closer to his ear, “Are you begging?”

You blew air into his ear and watched the hair stand up on the back of his neck, “Hardly.”

You absolutely did not like the look he got in eyes when you answered with that, stopping his hips from moving altogether and his rubbing on your sensitive parts and you curled your toes into his pant leg harder until you felt the pinch of his skin. “What’s wrong?” You hated how smug he sounded, wanting nothing more to wipe off the shitty, handsome ass smirk he was giving you. If he could tease you, you could tease him.

You got an idea then, pulling at his buttons again as you clamped down around him, your warm and wet walls encasing the inches of him that were inside of you in retaliation to his edging. You nearly wanted to laugh when Vergil’s eye twitched and a small movement of his nostrils flaring being the only thing that told you that it affected him. Feeling spiteful and knowing that perhaps you’d regret it, you released him and rolled your hips, tightening down on him again in the process and repeating it in intervals as his grip on your body released and his eyes moved down to watch you move. You had him.

It didn’t last long though, on a time around you leaned back and sighed as you could feel your release building back up again, Vergil’s hands were fast to grip your hips in a bruising hold and stop your movement, his face leaning back down with expression back in that near pout he generally had and lips losing the smirk they once held. “Unbutton them.”

Vergil’s voice no longer held that teasing tone it had taken earlier, rougher and how he normally sounded when he spoke when he was feeling agitated. If you weren’t nearly about to combust you would’ve laughed at him for being so worked up, but you yourself had been point five away from begging him to rearrange your insides and you wanted so badly to cum you couldn’t stand it.

You listened to him then, fingers dipping into the dark fabric and pulling –

The last two came unbuttoned together as well and one hand of his shot up to unzip the underlayer of his vest, shrugging it off when he got it completely down and throwing it into the floor in a manner, he typically would have turned up his nose at. Meanwhile you were doing quick thinking; both times they came off he had sighed or made some sort of indication he was getting fed up… and what were the chances you unbuttoned them both… and how they unbuttoned finally after he told you to do it again…

That bastard.

You voiced that, “You plotting ass, you were the reason they wouldn’t come unbuttoned, what the Hell were you doing? Holding them together with demon magIC AH –” you didn’t get a chance to finish your rant when he pulled out what he had inside of you and harshly pushed himself back in all inches bottoming out like that. Your hands found purchase onto his newly bare back, and you dug your nails into his skin while your back arched as one arm of his curled around to hold you closer to him, his other hand slithering around to hold the nape of your neck while he mouthed at your neck in kisses of all teeth and tongue. A loud moan you let out in his ear had him biting into the skin of your neck and fingers digging into your back at the scale of it.

Vergil’s hips were moving faster than they had been earlier when you two were up against the door, his dick really feeling like he was deep into your guts then and had you gasping for breath each time the tip of him pressed against the restriction inside of you. Your thighs were the ones quivering then as your orgasm began to coil up inside of you once more and you had no doubt that he’d let you achieve it that time if the fast and harsh breaths coming loudly coming from his nostrils were telling you anything. Your hipbones were knocking together in a fervent hurry, and you doubled down onto him in a squeeze as he released your neck leaving behind a bruise of red and saliva on your skin to opt for sucking on your mouth and groaning into it when you scratched your nails down his back.

You mumbled into his mouth, “Vergil, please, harder.” He bit your lip.

Your noses knocked together and he nearly had you imprinted into the couch with how rough he began to kiss and fuck into you while the hand at your nape moved to grab a thigh and pull it higher to sit under his armpit as he experimentally rolled his hips around until you squeaked when he finally found the weak spot inside of you. You were moaning and babbling into his mouth then as he got tough with his dick kissing that point in you that had you tangling a hand into his hair and the other settling on his defined abdomen that began to grow slick with sweat. His hand gripped your thigh harder as he felt your insides begin to flutter around him, a warning that you weren’t going to last much longer.

And neither was he, given his arm unwinding from your back and the other moving away from your thigh to grip the couch arm above your head and all fingers digging grooves into the leather in an attempt to hold himself together.

You locked your legs around his waist in a last effort before your impending relief and pressed your mouth closer to his ear, “Are you gonna cum in me?”

Your lover’s face scrunched up. “Don’t.”

“You’re going to, aren’t you?”

His eyes peered down at you under knitted brows, “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“As much as I know you do... C'mon Vergil, cum in me and make me yours.”

It was a fleeting little bite on your part, the both of you already knowing you were his, but it got you the reaction you wanted.

His jaw clenched and you could almost see the vein rise from his temple as he stopped his movements and anchored his hands deeper in the couch, his upper body slightly raising as he pulled out –

Only to slam back in inside of you in his own spiteful rebuttal against you trying to set him off with just your words. You threw your head back in a silent moan as he repeated the action, and your toes curled from the rough treatment and sensation while your hands found new placement on his shoulders. You weren’t winning that round and a drawn-out moan of his name let him know that. He picked up the pace and your eyes screwed shut when he began grunting louder and the noises went straight to your throbbing cunt. You squeezed around him one last time –

Your cunt trembled around him and then your much-wanted orgasm was flushing through you, a tremor of extreme pleasure prickling you from the base of your spine down into the tips of your toes. You were squirming and gasping into ear by then as you tightened your hold around his waist in near death-grip, with Vergil’s hands tearing into the couch as the stuffing finally pulled through. You rolled your head to the side feeling the gush around him and the noise your bodies made finally entering your senses, chest heaving, and mind riddled with endorphins as you waited for his own end.

It didn’t take much longer when Vergil let out a near snarling groan and bit into the junction between your neck and shoulder, arms flexing as he full-on tore the arm of the couch cushion apart. You whined at the treatment but wiggled again when you felt the all-telling warmth of his release coating the inside of your cunt, his hips stuttering as he released it all inside of you and ran off the high of the feeling for a few moments. Once his hips stopped and he remained still inside of you, his mouth latched off of your skin to let him breathe against it in huffs instead. The cushion above you creaked as he released the harsh hold on it, arms moving to wrap around your waist as you both caught your breath and basked in the aftermath of it all.

It was silent besides your breathing and when your legs finally unlocked and dropped spread open, he pulled out of you, and you wrinkled your nose a bit when you felt some of his cum seep out of you. Normally you didn’t care, loving the feeling of practically being stuffed, but if it got on the couch…

You wrapped your arms his torso and pushed him upwards, somehow managing to get him to sit up, and as you both came to sit up you shot him a look, “I don’t want to stain the couch.”

Vergil leaned back and rested his head on the back of his couch, looking quite relaxed while closing his eyes in the process. Well, he looked satisfied, a far cry from how he looked earlier that day waddling around behind you like a vulture looking for its prey. He didn’t answer so you continued, “Also, how are you gonna explain the couch?”

He peered at you then, moving his eyes to settle on the couch arm behind you as you expectantly looked at him, pulling your skirt back down to appear decent, “We’ll sort it out.”

“’We’?”

“Yes, it was a team effort.”

“How… it was your hands.”

“I can’t focus with you sounding like a wanton temptress in my ears.”

“Okay ‘unbutton my vest and I’ll give it to you good’.”

Vergil sneered at you then, fixing his pants and tucking himself back in before a hand shot out and wrapped around your wrist and he fell back, dragging you to lie on top of him with a hand on the back of your head and the other resting on your lower back. You pouted against his chest with your cheek squished against him but ended up smiling into it at his behavior. It wasn’t often he cuddled but when he did it was nothing short of blissful. Listening to his heartbeat and being lulled by his rising and falling chest, you nearly fell asleep if it weren’t you suddenly remembering his vest.

You rose your head and glared at him, watching him peek at you with one eye from the action, “Are you gonna explain why your vest was so hard to unbutton? Or why it magically did it whenever you wanted it to?”

He closed his eye, “No.”

“Vergil.”

“…”

“It was demon magic, wasn’t it?”

“…You ask far too many questions.”

“It’s not like I didn’t like it.”

Both of his eyes opened then, and you knew you caught him, “Mmm.”

“Yeah, maybe next time do it to your belt cause I know you like it when I beg,” you hid the grin in his chest again as his eyes flitted to the ceiling, a calculating glint in them and you realized he truly was thinking of a scenario like that. He then lowered them and shot you a withering glare, aware you caught him.

“Minx.” You laughed and settled back down into his pectoral closing your eyes as his fingers rubbed a pattern into your lower back, and eventually lulling back to sleep from his petting.

You woke up around midnight back into your bed with your lover by your side and both of you back into your sleeping clothes and in another odd cuddling position. You didn’t question it as you were too groggy and fell back asleep and slept into the well hours of the morning with a sore lower body and a contented smile on your lips. However once up for the day and walking around, Dante had approached you both to ask about the couch. In both of your geniuses combined you answered him at the same time:

“A demon attacked.”

“Her nails got stuck in it.”

…

Dante sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. He didn’t believe either of you, but he still smacked his brother’s back in a display of pride for ‘having it in him’.

You both still had to fix the couch though.

#{🩸} nee fics #vergil x reader #vergil devil may cry #vergil #vergil x y/n #vergil x you #vergil dmc #dmc #devil may cry #dmc x reader

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gotta-winwin · 5 months ago

Text

watching him fade away | yjh

⭐ starring: jeonghan

💌 genre: angst, a sprinkle of fluff

💬 preview: It’s been 497 days since Jeonghan had awoken, only to realize he was completely alone.

tw/cw: post apocalyptic, conscious AI!jeonghan, abstract character death, fluff, angst, wounds, based on the song: watching him fade away by mac deMarco

🪽fic rating: pg 🪽word count: 1.8k

☁️ masterlist & a/n: writing this has been quite the journey- and there is no better time to drop this than for the angst olympics! i gift this to @diamonddaze01 as a tentative (+loving) beginning to what i'm sure will be many angst fics to come. don't sue me for emotional damage xoxo

this is a part of the angst olympics -- support other authors here!

SYSTEMS LOADING ….

“How might you need my assistance?” His perfectly crafted eyes blinked open. “My name is J-E-O-N-G-H-A-N, your personal robot for everyday needs!”

The bird blinked back at him, ruffling its feathers and slowly waddling away.

“Do you need assistance?”

Silence.

Jeonghan didn’t really know what to make of it. Had someone purchased him from his creators? Where were they? Why was he sitting, legs spread and back leaning against the wall, in the middle of a giant warehouse?

“No assistance then.” The monotonous whirr of his system began clicking as he shut himself off once again.

SYSTEMS REBOOTING ….

It took Jeonghan approximately 4 days, 6 hours and 47 minutes to realize no one was coming for him.

Taking his first steps outside, he allowed his scanning mechanisms to take in his surroundings: the splintering hole in the roof, the overgrown walls, the barren landscape. It took him another 6 minutes to realize he was utterly alone.

And what was an assistant robot supposed to do with no one to assist? The question burned in his mind as his programming worked to figure it out. Who was he supposed to help?

Cheep.

Jeonghan looked down. A spotted brown bird had bumped into his foot, its beak lightly chipping away at the metal. He bent down to scoop it up, scanning its features.

“Baby Wood Thrush.” He identified. “Do you need assistance?”

And so it began, the unlikely bond between robot and nature. Jeonghan found his purpose in assisting the only living things around him, building shelter for the antelope, finding fresh water for the birds, fixing the warehouse roof for the owls to nest in.

But Jeonghan quickly learned that the animals couldn’t speak, not in any language his programming could understand. It made Jeonghan feel incredibly lonely.

SYSTEMS ON ….

Jeonghan had discovered his great affinity for the ocean in his second week as a newly repurposed robot. He couldn’t get too close – the first time he had run in head first, damaging his systems and taking days to repair – but he could sit by the many rocks along the shoreline, moving the crabs and turtles away from the tide.

It made his chest ache as he trained his eyes on the horizon, wondering if there were people to help on the other side of the water. But maybe he was truly the only thing left of mankind, Jeonghan didn’t know.

But he did know he was different now. Water had fallen from his eye sockets last night, when he had turned on to find that a windstorm from last night had knocked over the bird nests, taking with it countless eggs he had been nursing. He couldn’t understand how it had happened, but it had. Jeonghan felt weirdly alive.

The multiple gadgets and cords that made up his physical state felt more like organs and veins, pumping blood through the vessel the creators had called JEONGHAN. Your friendly assistant robot for your everyday needs. But he was much more than that now.

SYSTEMS IN CHAOS ….

A girl.

Jeonghan’s mind short circuited as he walked back into the warehouse, arms ladened with fresh fruit and variously shaped sticks.

“Who-”

The girl turned to face him, and Jeonghan’s true purpose had never seemed so clear to him as it did now. He was meant to assist her.

“Do you need assistance?” He asked like he was programmed to, his keen eyes scanning her body for injury. “You’re hungry.” He commented, spilling his armful of things onto the table and picking out the ripest apple, handing it to her. “Eat.”

She looked at him warily.

“My name is J-E-O-N-G-H-A-N, your personal robot for everyday needs.”

She took the apple.

“My name is Y/N.” She introduced herself, and Jeonghan slotted her name into his database. “Have you seen other people pass through here?”

Jeonghan shook his head, instinctively passing her a second apple once she had finished the first. “It’s been 497 days since I became conscious. You’re the first human to pass through.”

Her lips parted. “497 days.” She repeated. “It feels like it’s been decades.”

Jeonghan opened his mouth to reply and promptly closed it. He had a million questions to ask her but he knew none of it was his place. It wasn’t his job to question — his job was to assist, to accompany, to take care of his employer.

“You’re hurt.” He observed once more, noticing the large gash on her right leg. “Let me help you.”

Maybe it was the calming nature of his voice or his pretty face, but she sat down without protest and extended her leg towards him.

His heart (or lack of one) warmed at the sudden show of trust — that despite the broken world they had found themselves in, there were still pockets of humanity waiting to be found.

SYSTEMS UP ….

In the next couple days, Jeonghan learned what the word banter truly meant.

The girl was fast with her wit, cheeky with her words and unforgiving with his heart. He was sure he had a heart now, for it beat thunderously and quickly for her.

Love was the one thing never programmed into him but he sure knew it now.

“Careful.” He reached a hand out instinctively to steady her, holding her as she regained her balance. “The sunset isn’t going anywhere.”

He followed behind her as they jumped across the lake, using the rocks as a step bridge.

“Quickly, Hannie.” She called, waving at him to quicken his pace. “I want to catch it when it’s still pink and purple.”

“Sunset is 9:00pm tonight.” He informed her, collecting the information from his database. “We have 8 minutes.”

“Still.” Her smile lit up their surroundings better than any ball of fire could.

Fuck the sun, he found himself thinking. She was the brightest thing in this barren land and he felt honored to bask in her rays of light.

“Hannie, look.” She pointed a finger up at the sky once they reached the cliffside. “It’s beautiful.”

Beautiful. Jeonghan hummed in agreement, silently scrolling through his system’s database to log in a new definition.

Note: beautiful directly translates to love, the look on a person’s face during the last legs of daylight. Her hair, blowing gently in the wind.

“How did you end up here?” She asked him, reaching out her hands to intertwine her fingers with his.

His lips curved into a smile, a natural reaction he couldn’t suppress each time she looked at him with her brightly lit eyes. His nonexistent heart beat - badum, badum, badum - in tandem with the swings of their connected arms.

Love was a defect, a sickness for a robot, but with her Jeonghan didn’t mind. He would override his code in order to love her as many times as he needed to.

SYSTEMS DOWN…

He could hear the sound of his depleting battery beeping over the gentle rise and fall of her breath.

Beep. Beep. Beebeebee-

He flips the warning sign off with a reluctant hand. Oh, how he longed to trade in his expensive metal wares for real flesh and blood. His superpowered technology was utterly useless when it came to obtaining the one thing Jeonghan found himself truly wanting – time. Time with her, with the sky, with the world he had found himself falling in love with. Falling in love with her.

“Do you love me?” She had asked him one night, as he held her in the rocking chair he had made out of a wilted tree.

“Of course.” He had replied, because the answer was as clear to him as a math question was.

“But you’re a robot.” She moved slightly away from him to cup her hands around his face. “A very real looking, very handsome robot, but a robot all the same.” A gentle knock against his chest showed that it was hollow. Empty. Void of anything that could ever produce love.

Jeonghan knew it didn’t make sense. “I don’t need a heart to know I love you.” He whispered, pressing her hand against his chest, on the area where his heart would’ve been if he were real. “I love you with my whole being, my whole existence. Not just my heart.”

She smiled, and Jeonghan silently thanked the universe for destroying humanity because it allowed him to meet her.

SYSTEMS STALLING…

“I’ll go out once the sun rises.” She was lacing up her boot, a defiant look on her face. “I’ll find a battery, a charging port– something. We’ve still got time.”

Jeonghan could only weakly nod from his spot on the wooden chair, his powerless legs limp and useless.

He could feel himself rotting from within, his nonexistent lungs rattling with each airless breath he took.

“My love.” He whispered, and she turned back around to face him, halfway out of the garage door.

“Don’t worry, Hannie.” A brave smile formed across her face, and god, did he love her for that. “I’ll find a way to keep you here with me.”

He nodded and watched her leave.

Yet Jeonghan could feel it in his systems, the way parts of him were slowly shutting down as all the energy went to conserve his database. His brain. Everything that made him him.

He was rotting.

He was fading away.

SYSTEMS FAILING…

Jeonghan knew that the end was near. Sitting propped up against the brick wall of the warehouse, he clutched her hand in his limp ones, eyes roaming her face, lips parted in an attempt to comfort her.

He was weakening and both of them knew it.

“We can find the battery you need.” She brought up the idea again, something he had already told her was impossible. “You can’t leave me.”

He wanted to tell her he didn’t want to leave her. Not like this. Not ever. He had a hundred thousand things to tell her.

Yet Jeonghan couldn’t speak.

“You can’t leave me.” She repeated, her eyes plainly showing the hurt she felt at his silence. “You can’t.” Tears tracked down her pretty face.

Jeonghan closed his eyes.

“No.” She protested, a warm hand reaching up to touch his cold cheek. “Open your eyes. Look at me.”

Jeonghan kept his eyes shut.

“Look at me, goddamnit!” She yelled, shaking him. Her voice raised and broke. “Jeonghan, please.”

He couldn’t. Jeonghan didn’t know when he had learned the art of selfishness, but somewhere along the way of loving her, he had become entirely selfish. He couldn’t bear the idea of her crying face being the last thing his database would ever recall seeing.

God, he was selfish. For he wanted the happy version of her all to himself.

“Please.” She begged again, her voice weaker this time around. “Look at me. Don’t leave me.”

His lips parted silently, releasing a breath that wasn’t his to breathe.

“Please.”

Beep. Beep. Bee-

. . .

SYSTEMS REBOOTING…

“How might you need my assistance?” His perfectly crafted eyes blinked open. “My name is J-E-O-N-G-H-A-N, your personal robot for everyday needs!”

“Jeonghan?”

A girl stepped into his line of vision, her eyes rubbed raw from crying.

“Do you need assistance?”

Silence.

“Jeonghan? It’s me.” The girl’s voice broke, and he couldn’t figure out why.

“I’m sorry,” He stood up, scanning her face and entering her into his database. “What is your name?”

#angstolympics #svthub #seventeen imagines #svt #svt imagines #seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt fluff #svt x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #svt fic #svt scenarios #svt jeonghan #seventeen jeonghan #jeonghan x you #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan

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dandylovesturtles · 1 year ago

Text

I lied

this fic is going to have at least four parts. oops.

Sorry this took longer than I intended! I started working on it literally the next day after the first part went up and banged out 3K words, then wrote another 1.5K over the next couple days, ended up hating it, deleted the whole thing and started over. I'm much happier with this version.

I had intended for this part to go deeper into the immediate aftermath buuuut this part ended up so long I decided to make that the next part!

And I got enabled on discord to be mean with the cliffhanger, so... sorry <3

CW: minor violence, angst, nobody having a good time, Bishop being Bishop

btw this is Part 2 of the Room Fic that doesn't have a title yet. If you're confused, start here!

-----

They're somewhere in Nebraska, and Raph's never seen so many stars before.

He thought he had seen stars, when they went camping in the woods that time with Todd. Now, sitting on the side of the road by the Turtle Tank, he's realizing that he didn't really see them.

He wishes he could enjoy it, but he can't. Not really. Because nine days ago, Leo stormed out of the lair and never came home.

(Raph knows the thing he'll always blame himself for is picking the fight in the first place.)

It took them several days to learn what had happened to him. Even more days to learn where he was taken. And now they're stuck on the side of the road in Nebraska while Donnie fixes a flat.

Mikey's dozing against his shoulder. He hasn't been getting enough sleep, not that any of them have. April's handing Donnie tools and keeping him company while he changes the tire. Draxum and Splinter are inside the tank, on the lookout for cops with the help of Donnie's police scanners.

It's cool since the sun went down. Quiet. Crickets are out and playing their songs. Raph's seen a few deer, and an owl. The stars are twinkling overhead, and it's calm, peaceful.

The weight on his shoulder is suddenly gone; Raph looks down to find Mikey sitting up straight, wide awake and head cocked to the side like a bloodhound who just caught a scent.

He opens his mouth to ask - and then he feels it too.

It's a cacophony of emotions, strong and hot and mixing together until they're overwhelming. Fear, pain, exhaustion, loneliness, and a blinding fury like even Raph has never felt before. Hatred and bile and the desire to attack, to harm, to destroy.

And underneath it all, a presence as familiar to him as his own, one that's been by his side since almost the day he was hatched. One that is fragile and desperate and screaming out for help.

Leo.

Raph stands up - next to him, Mikey is already on his feet. Raph reaches out his hand, his ninpo flaring to life, straining out into the open air like if he just stretches far enough, he can pluck Leo out of the hell he's trapped in and bring him home.

But he can't reach far enough, because the EPF took him all the way to Colorado. And they're still on the side of the road in Nebraska.

As quickly as it came, the presence is dying away again. It shrinks smaller and smaller and then fizzles out. Raph releases his breath, letting his ninpo fall away, his fingers still grasping open air.

A sniffle. Raph looks down and finds Mikey sobbing. He scoops his little brother into his arms, and Mikey throws himself into Raph's chest, heaving breaths shaking his tiny frame.

"Leo," he whimpers. All Raph can do is pat his shell.

He turns to take stock of Donnie next, carrying Mikey over. His other little brother has tears trickling down his face, too, more subdued but still visible. He's holding his wrench in a vice grip, and for once he doesn't utter a single protest when Raph reaches out and tucks him in under his free arm.

"...What just happened?" asks April, hesitant. Raph wishes he knew how to explain.

"It was Leo!" Mikey does it for him. "He... he's reaching for us."

"What!? Like, mind meld or something!?"

"No," answers Raph. "I don't really know what that was... but it was definitely Leo."

"So..." April pauses, eyes searching each of their faces. "Is he... okay?"

None of them know what to say, but she gets it anyway.

"...I'm going to destroy the EPF," says Donnie, voice dark and cold. "I'm going to raze it to the ground. There will be nothing left."

Raph squeezes his shoulders, pulling him closer.

He doesn't know what to do other than agree.

-----

"This is a good thing," says Draxum. "That means he's still alive."

"But they're hurting him!" Mikey argues. He's halfway in Draxum's lap, arms wrapped around Draxum's middle. Donnie sits on one of the bench seats, curled tight around his own legs, while Splinter strokes his head. Raph sits on the bench seat across from them, April leaning against his side.

"I told you what the EPF is capable of," Draxum reminds them. "This is not a surprise."

"Read the room, Barry," says April.

Splinter's look is increasingly far away, his touch on Donnie's head automatic and absentminded. He's able to stay in the room with them when there's something to do, but now the fear and depression are threatening to take him away again. For the hundredth time since this nightmare began, Raph feels the hopelessness set in.

Draxum sucks, but he's right, echoes the voice in his head that sounds too much like Leo. The plan hasn't changed. Now get moving before you tire out.

"Drax is right that Leo's alive," Raph echoes. "So we need to get a move on. Donnie, how's the tank?"

Donnie uncurls, coaxed by the request to talk about his baby. "The spare's on, and I did some checks on the engine and interior systems. We're ready to go."

"Alright." Raph stands up, rolling his shoulders. "It's Raph's turn to drive. Everyone buckle up."

The mood in the tank shifts after that; they have a direction, and a plan. Leo is hurt, but he's still alive, and nothing has changed.

Donnie and April sit together in the front seats. Mikey passes around snacks and drinks from their cooler, then snuggles in between their dad and Draxum. Draxum says something negative about the snack food, which pulls Splinter out of his trance and starts up some heated bickering between them. Even more of the tension leaks out of the cab.

Raph puts the tank in drive and pulls back onto the quiet highway, driving west again. At their back, the sun starts to rise.

-----

It's late in the day when they reach Colorado Springs.

Donnie was able to pin the EPF base's location down to the mountains surrounding the town, but he couldn't find its exact location. Whatever equipment they have, it's completely scrambled the subcutaneous tracker Donnie put on Leo (and boy, was that a stir when Donnie revealed he'd put trackers on all of them). It had taken a combination of Donnie's hacking and April's investigative skills to get this far.

"It makes sense," says April as they pull the tank into a campsite outside the city limits. "There's, what, three bases here? Where better to hide a secret branch of the military than with the military?"

There's snow on the ground outside, even though it's early May. Even so, the temperature was pretty mild while the sun was up. "It's the proximity to the mountains," Donnie explains when Raph mentions it, but the rest of the explanation blurs together. He's too tired to keep up with Donnie's science facts, but infodumping calms his brother down, so he lets him do it and nods along.

They eat a proper meal that Mikey cooks for them on one of the campsite grills, then settle in to nap until the sun goes down. Raph isn't sleeping, and he can tell from all the shifting around that Mikey and Donnie aren't, either. They're too close to Leo now to rest.

But you gotta catch some Zs before you go storming into enemy territory, the Leo in his head reminds him.

Raph hates every second you're in there, he thinks. But it won't be long now. Big bro's comin'.

He wishes the Leo in his head would say that he believes that. But all Raph can remember are the words they said during the fight, and he never quite goes to sleep.

-----

They break into pairs for their search. Raph goes with April, Mikey with Splinter, and Donnie stays with Draxum at the tank. Donnie uses his tech to try and narrow down the location of the base, while the other two teams go in opposite directions and start scouting the area on foot.

It takes a long time for them to learn anything, and as the sun comes up again, Raph starts to worry that they're going to have to leave Leo trapped for another full day.

But then he and April finally get a lead. They send the info to Donnie, and it helps narrow down his search.

Just after dawn, they reconvene at the tank, gathered around satellite images and drone shots of a nondescript military compound several miles outside the city.

"There it is," says Donnie with finality. "That's where they're keeping Leo."

"Then what are waiting for?" asks Mikey.

Wait for dark, says the Leo in Raph's head.

And that advice makes sense. There will be fewer employees at night. The dark provides natural cover. It's sane. It's smart.

Raph ignores it entirely.

He's not leaving his little brother with those people for one second longer. Not after what he felt, sitting on the side of the road in Nebraska.

"We're not waiting for anything," he says. "Let's move out."

From the looks on their faces, they all agree.

------

The site looks as generic as possible. There's a high electric fence circling the whole thing, with a basic "No Trespassing - Government Property" sign. A simple guard stand sits at the drive-in gate. The buildings visible beyond are drab and featureless.

The government stopped publicly funding the EPF in the nineties, Draxum had told them. But the organization had never truly gone away; it was just funded through underground means now. Miscellaneous defense funding. Anonymous donations. Private benefactors.

Originally it had been founded to defend Earth against aliens. But when no alien threat appeared, they moved on to a new mission: defending the United States against yokai.

"Even though we were here first," Draxum had said testily. "Typical Americans."

Raph hadn't liked anything Draxum had to tell them about the EPF. That they weren't bound by any of the laws the rest of the military was. That the yokai they had managed to capture were never seen again. That Draxum had had a very brief run-in with them once, decades ago, and he doubted they had ever forgotten it.

Really, though, all he'd needed to know was that they had his brother.

It's the middle of the morning, so their stealth options are limited. Still, they aren't ninja for nothing; they use the forest and the snowy terrain to their advantage and sneak their way into the compound. Raph has to admit, he was a little worried about Draxum on the trip over, but the old goat does a pretty good job keeping up.

It takes them a bit of time to work out which building to enter. They rule out a mess hall, a medical ward, the barracks, and some kind of training center first. Then, toward the furthest reaches of the compound, they find a building that looks particularly suspicious, with a guard gate on the path leading to it and more armed guards on the roof.

"That has to be it," says Raph. No one disagrees.

They use a passing supply truck to slip past the guard gate, then sneak around the back and use a fire ladder to get to the roof. They dispatch the guards on top quickly and easily, then find a ventilation shaft leading inside. Mikey, Donnie, April, and Splinter fit easily enough, but Raph and Draxum are too big to wiggle through.

"Find out where we're going. Radio us as soon as you find something," Raph says. Then he gives Mikey, April, and Donnie's shoulders each a squeeze in turn. "And be careful."

"Take care of Red," their dad says to Draxum just before he follows the others inside.

"He's safe with me," Draxum promises.

"You're safe with Raph," Raph feels the need to say. Splinter chuckles before disappearing into the shaft after his siblings.

Waiting outside becomes nerve-wracking quickly. Raph starts to pace the length of the roof, back and forth, glancing at the unconscious guards from time to time to make sure they're still unconscious.

"You're going to wear a rut on the roof," Draxum admonishes him. Raph keeps going anyway.

-----

Finally, after what feels like ages but is only about ten minutes, his radio crackles. Raph freezes, pulling his wrist close, where Donnie's tech is hidden under his wraps.

"Hey." It's April's voice. She sounds out of breath, but not distressed. "Come to the back of the building. Should be a door."

"On our way," says Raph, waving at Draxum to follow before dropping off the roof.

The door is easy enough to find, the snow around it trampled down. He gives the metal a rap with his knuckles when he gets there, and the door swings open, April grinning, her bat perched against her shoulder. Behind her is another unconscious guard.

"Nice, April," says Raph, hustling inside. He kicks the last of the snow off his feet once he's on the cold linoleum floor, Draxum following suit. April lets the door swing shut again. "Where's everyone else?"

"We found some kinda security room. Leo's gear was in there." She pushes by and starts to lead them down the hall, voice low, eyes watching for anyone rounding the corner. "Donnie's poking through the camera footage. Didn't look like anyone much was in this hall, so I came to get you."

"And Leonardo?" asks Draxum.

April gives a shake of her head. "Haven't found him yet, but he's gotta be here. There's not much more of the building to search, so we're close."

Raph peeks in open doors and through windows as they walk, taking in the space. It looks like an ordinary office building inside; nothing nefarious, except for the fact that the people working here are kidnapping scum who have done something so terrible to his little brother it made him scream out in anguish and fury. But if he hadn't known that coming in, he wouldn't have expected anything. It all looks very...

Raph comes to a sudden stop. Through the sliver of window in a door, he sees the first occupied room since he's entered the building. Only one person is inside, wearing a white lab coat and tapping away at a computer.

But what's more interesting is the door on the other side of the room: solid metal with no window, and a sign that reads "Inmate Observation - Authorized Access Only".

Raph grabs April by the shoulder before she can get too far ahead, pointing at the window. "Do you know what's in there?"

She turns back and takes a peek. "...No. I don't think we went through there yet."

So they haven't ruled this part of the building out yet. And it's the only one so far with anyone inside.

Inmate Observation.

"Raph, wait, I think we should-" April starts, but Raph doesn't listen. Raph can't stop himself.

His little brother is in here. He knows he is. The one who was taken from them. The one who cried out to them in fear, begging to be saved.

He's not making Leo wait a moment longer.

Raph throws open the door and marches inside.

"...Okay," April says behind him. "I guess we're doing it this way.

-----

The scientist or whoever they are tries to radio for help. Raph picks the radio up and crushes it in his hand. They turn and run, and that takes care of that.

April calls the others on her radio. Raph doesn't listen to the conversation. His eyes are locked on the door.

Inmate Observation.

He reaches out and throws the door back with a bang.

He's ready for the gunshots before they come, and his ninpo is already active, forming a protective bubble around himself and shielding Draxum and April. He's expecting bullets, but instead it's darts; they embed themselves harmlessly in the arms of his projection. Raph waits until the volley stops, then drops the projection, and the darts fall harmlessly to the floor.

He steps into the room and clocks one of the guards on the head before they can reload, watching as they fall to the ground. April wallops the other one, then kicks their fallen gun under a desk. She brandishes her bat at the other occupants of the room: two more scientists in lab coats, and one steely faced man in a suit.

The scientists seem intimidated. The suited man does not.

"Ah," he says. "So you've finally made it here, Draxum."

"Bishop." Draxum sounds equally unimpressed. "I thought you died in the nineties."

"So does most of the world. It's convenient for my work."

"You guys know each other?" April asks, looking between them.

"We know of each other." Draxum sneers. "If my plans had gone as I intended, he would truly be dead by now."

Raph narrows his eyes at the man. "Are you the one who's been keeping my brother here?"

To his credit, Bishop still looks unphased, even though Raph is tall enough to hulk over him. "I am the director of this facility."

It's enough of a yes.

Raph rushes Bishop, slamming him into the wall behind his back. Raph keeps him pinned, one hand on his neck, the other arm pressed against his chest, and Raph presses until he feels something start to crack.

Bishop hisses but does not cry out.

"Where are you keeping him?" Raph demands.

"He's in there," says Bishop, wheezing only slightly from the constriction on his lungs, his voice firm otherwise.

Raph tosses a look where Bishop indicates, seeing a large window. It's looking into a seemingly empty room; white walls and no furniture other than a toilet in the corner.

"Raph don't see him," he growls.

"He hides under the window." Bishop's eyes flicker to one of the scientists. "Pointless, really," he says, giving the man in the lab coat a nod. "Show them."

The scientist looks uneasy, but he turns and clicks a few buttons on a desktop. A screen pops up, but it doesn't show anything other than static.

"...Something is wrong with our camera signals, sir," the scientist reports.

"Ah." Bishop's eyes glint, and then flick back to Raph's face. "So there are more of you."

Raph doesn't answer that. He gives Bishop a rough shake. "What have you done to him?"

"Your brother?" Bishop clarifies. "Nothing."

Another shake. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying." Bishop's eyes are steely, even as his wheezing picks up the more Raph leans into his chest. "Other than as was necessary to move him, we have not touched him."

Raph doesn't move an inch. "I don't believe that."

"Then see for yourself." Bishop looks at the other scientist now, giving a small nod of his head. "Dr. Keller, open the door for this brute so he'll stop assaulting me."

Raph scowls, staying exactly where he is while the other scientist scurries to the metal door by the window and inputs a code into a keypad. There's a beep, and a clipped, artificial voice says, "Inmates clear the door. Security personnel entering. Stay still and you will not be harmed."

Finally, Raph lets Bishop go, and approaches the door.

-----

When Raph imagined one of them getting kidnapped by a shady, quasi-governmental agency intent on imprisoning mutants, he always pictured something... different.

He thought they would be in cages, not tall enough to stand in. That they would be fed from dog bowls or water drippers. That handlers would patrol the room with cattle prods, ready to shock anyone who stepped out of line.

But there is no cage, and no cattle prods. Leo is just in a room.

The first thing Raph notices about the room is the cold. The rest of the building is hardly stifling, but even then, the blast of air that comes through the open door feels like Raph is stepping into a freezer.

As he saw from outside, there's no furniture. Or he doesn't think there is, until he looks down, under the window, and finds a cot.

And what's on the cot makes his heart stop.

Raph can barely remember the last time he saw Leo pull himself fully into his shell for anything other than shell bowling. He complained that it was too small, that the hot and cramped space made him feel claustrophobic.

Now he's completely pulled inside, still and silent in a way Leo should never be.

For an eternity, Raph thinks he's too late. They came all the way here only to save Leo's corpse.

"Leo...?"

He kneels by the cot, reaching out and putting a hand on Leo's shell. He's cold to the touch, and it unsettles Raph even further. He shouldn't be this cold.

Raph keeps his hand where it is and stays very still and very quiet. And he waits.

And then he hears it, so faint he almost misses it: a terrified, whimpering chirp.

Leo is alive.

Raph feels tears spring to his eyes. He puts his other hand on Leo's shell, rubbing in big, soothing motions.

"Leo! Leo, it's me! We're here, we're getting you out! It's all going to be okay, just trust Big Raphie, alright?"

So saying, Raph straightens back up, and grabs Leo's shell in his hands to carry him out, to take his little brother home.

A hand shoots out of the shell, stick thin. Though it's clearly weak, it grabs on to Raph's arm with a desperate ferocity, clawing at the skin there.

Raph freezes, not putting Leo down but not lifting him any further, either. He peers into the gap in Leo's shell, and sees eyes peering back at him, glassy and wide and full of terror. A cornered animal fighting for his life.

Raph takes a deep breath. He summons all the love he has for Leo, all the relief he feels at finding him alive, all the happiness he has from having his little brother in his arms again, and he pours it into a genuine smile, no matter the danger outside.

"Hey, Leo," he says, voice soft. "It's just me. Raph came to get ya. Everything's okay now."

A second passes, then five, then twenty. April starts to come in, but Raph waves a finger at her to tell her to go back before she startles Leo. He keeps the smile on his face, his eyes locked on Leo's, his hold secure but non-threatening.

And then, slowly, Leo pokes his head out.

"Raph?" he asks, in a voice that is exhausted and hoarse and warbling and absolutely beautiful.

"Yeah," says Raph, blinking tears back. "Hey, buddy."

Steadily, Leo unfurls the rest of himself, one limb emerging at a time. He looks terrible. His cheeks are sunken and gaunt, his skin is an unhealthy color, his eyes are ringed by dark black circles showing off how little he's slept.

Raph is so happy to see him. He so wishes this wasn't the state he was finding Leo in. If he could turn back time and make it so Leo never suffered, he would in a heartbeat. But he's so happy to have Leo back that the tears keep flowing.

The grip Leo has on his arm shifts. No longer trying to claw himself free, but grabbing on, holding still, with all the same desperation as before. His eyes search Raph's face, over and over until it seems he's finally satisfied.

"Raph," he repeats, and it's not a question this time.

"Yeah," Raph says anyway. "I'm here."

He lifts Leo the rest of the way, cradling Leo against his chest. Leo's so much lighter than he should be, and Raph feels a sharp pain in his heart over it.

It's okay. They'll leave. They'll take care of him. And then Leo will be all better again.

Leo shifts himself, reaching one arm up and hooking it around Raph's neck. Just that much movement seems to sap a lot of energy, and he slumps his head against Raph, giving up on holding it upright. It reminds Raph of when they were little and he would carry Leo to bed, before Leo started insisting he's too old for that.

"Am I dreaming?" Leo whispers.

Raph's heart breaks, but he doesn't lose his smile. "Nope. You're wide awake."

"Then..." Leo nuzzles closer. "Can we go home?"

"Yeah." Raph sniffles, shifting his grip so he can get a hand free without disturbing Leo. "We can go home."

Leo doesn't say anything more, just hums quietly against Raph's neck. Raph wipes his tears away, then turns and carries Leo out of the room.

-----

Bishop is still against the wall; it's Draxum's vines holding him there now.

When Leo sees him, he shrinks into himself, crossing the arm not hooked around Raph over his chest. Raph turns his body so Leo is shielded from view, glaring hard at Bishop as he does.

"Didn't do anything to him, huh?" he asks, voice icy.

"He is unharmed," says Bishop, equally cold. Raph wants to kill him.

"That's enough out of you," says Draxum, and a new vine wraps around Bishop's mouth. That shuts him up.

April's eyes are wide, her hand over her mouth as she looks at Leo, but she quickly pulls herself together, her expression turning to one of hard steel. She comes closer, only softening when Leo's eyes lock on her.

"Hey, Leo," she says, reaching up and giving his arm a pat. "How're you feelin'?"

"Happy to see you," Leo rasps, and it's so sincere that Raph feels tears spring to his eyes again. April has to blink hard behind her glasses.

"We're really happy to see you, too."

"Yes, everyone is happy now," says Draxum, though his eyes are worried as they look Leo over. "But we still need to get out of here."

"Right." April opens the door back into the offices, letting Raph through, before she pulls up her wrist to talk into her Donnie tech. "Guys, you there?"

"We're here, April," comes Donnie's voice. "We've extracted the information and we're on our way to meet you."

"Great." She smiles up at Raph. "We got Leo."

"Leo!" Mikey's voice comes booming through the radio, loud enough that April cringes and leans back. Raph can hear Donnie make a noise of protest in the background. "Is he okay!? Can I talk to him!? Did he miss me!?"

April raises her wrist so the tech is in front of Leo's mouth. He tilts his head towards it, saying, "Course I missed you."

"LEO!" screams Mikey even louder, and Raph thinks he hears the shout from somewhere in the building, too.

"-key, give me back my arm-" comes Donnie's voice, then there's an exaggerated throat clearing before he's saying, "We'll be there in one minute. Be ready to move."

"We're ready," Raph assures him. They move to the door and watch for the others to appear.

-----

Days of stress seem to fall off his brothers and Splinter when they see Leo.

Raph wishes they could have all the hugs and reassurances he knows they all need, but there's just no time; they're still in enemy territory, and the man who hurt his brother the most is just behind two doors, only being held by Draxum's vines. There's time only for brief shoulder touches and for Splinter to jump up on Raph's shoulder and give Leo's forehead a quick, relieved kiss.

Raph gives the rest of his family a quick glance over. Mikey is carrying Leo's gear, the katana sheathed across his shell and the rest of it slung over his shoulder. They haven't gotten any injuries, as far as he can tell. Everyone looks good to go.

"How do we get out of here?" asks Raph. Donnie pulls up his wrist tech.

"It may be inevitable that we'll face resistance on our way out... But the closest door is this way." He points down the hall, back the way Raph, Draxum, and April came from.

There's a weak thump against Raph's shoulder. "Gunners on the roof," Leo rasps once he has Raph's attention.

Raph wonders how he knows that, but there's no time to ask.

"We took care of 'em," he says instead. "You just relax, okay? We're getting out of here."

Leo lets his head fall against Raph's shoulder again, and Raph takes that as the okay to move.

It takes less time to get out than it did to get in. No need for stealth now that the director knows they're here, after all.

They run down the hallways, through doors, past the still unconscious guard April took care of earlier. Draxum takes the lead through the door, and they all crash as a group outside.

Where a ring of soldiers are waiting for them, guns trained their direction. And Raph isn't sure they're loaded with darts this time.

Leo shudders in his arms, and Raph curls protectively around him, already summoning his ninpo to shield them. His family forms their own protective barrier around the two of them, readying their weapons and squaring off against the soldiers.

Behind them, the door opens.

"This doesn't have to end in anyone getting hurt," says Bishop as he walks out.

Raph doesn't turn towards him, keeping the shivering Leo out of his sight. "What, like you didn't hurt my brother?"

"I've already told you, I didn't touch him." Bishop sounds only mildly put out. "He can attest to that himself."

"It's cute that you think any of us care what you have to say," snaps April, rounding on him and pointing her bat his direction.

"You should care what I have to say." Bishop nods at Raph. "Your comrade needs medical attention. Care that I can provide, if you lower your weapons and surrender."

"Care he only needs 'cause you jerks kidnapped him!" yells Mikey.

"Mikey," whispers Leo. Raph glances down at him, but Leo isn't looking his way.

"I gave Inmate 24365 plenty of chances to cooperate in exchange for more comfortable living conditions. That he declined was his choice. But I have no wish to see him dead. We were going to transfer him to the medical unit just as you arrived and interrupted us; surrender, and we'll take him there now."

"No," snaps Splinter, stepping toward Bishop. "You will come nowhere near my sons ever again."

"Mikey," Leo hisses with more urgency.

"These turtles are your sons? Really?" Bishop sounds disbelieving. Raph still doesn't turn his direction. "What am I supposed to believe next? That humans can give birth to birds?"

"They are my sons!" Splinter asserts. "Come near them again, and you are dead!"

"Perhaps we should kill him now, Lou Jitsu, and be done with it," Draxum suggests.

"Mikey," says Leo, kicking one emaciated foot. Mikey finally looks their way, confused. "Gimme... swords."

He doesn't have to explain. But Raph feels uneasy. He exchanges a glance with Donnie, who seems similarly concerned. "Nardo, I don't think-"

"Hey," says Leo, and even though his vocal chords sound tired and out of use, they can all hear him, their confident face-man of a brother, with a big ego and a cocky tone, shining through. "Trust me, I got this."

Mikey gives him the katana.

"The American government have allowed the yokai to live peacefully within our borders up until now," says Bishop. "If you kill me, that peace will be ruined."

"This war was started when you kidnapped my child!" cries Splinter, snapping his tail.

"You threaten the Hidden Cities as though you know anything about them," says Draxum. "They do not fear you."

"We know more about them than you think."

"You expect me to listen to this blathering?"

"Is it a chance you're willing to take, Draxum?"

Draxum falls silent. The lack of answer makes Raph feel even more on edge. But Leo is holding his katana now.

"You'll threaten the yokai no matter what we do today," says Splinter, voice dark. "No. We will not hand Leonardo over to you. You will not lay a single finger on him."

"So you're saying you won't surrender." Bishop pauses. Leo takes a deep breath. "You agree, Draxum?"

"...Leonardo is my creation. My son." Draxum sounds resolute. "No. I will not surrender."

Bishop scoffs. "Your son... this animal."

It's only the fact that he's holding Leo, fragile and shaking in his arms, that keeps Raph from turning around and killing Bishop right then.

But he doesn't, and Bishop raises his voice.

"Baron Draxum is a known yokai terrorist, who has threatened mass murder on the civilian human population of the United States and the rest of the earth. These five yokai are co-conspirators, and this woman with them a sympathizer and accomplice. They are attacking this base with the intent to harm those inside, and so anything we do now is self defense."

There's a smile in his tone as he says it.

"Fire at will."

Around them, triggers are pulled, and gunshots sound off.

But the flash of blue under their feet is faster.

For the first time since coming outside, Raph chances a look over his shoulder at Bishop, just as he's falling through the portal. Bullets whiz overhead, and one hits home.

The last thing Raph sees as he disappears into the blue light is blood blooming across Bishop's suit.

-----

They fall out of the portal somewhere outside the fence. Raph's not sure exactly where. He's not even sure Leo was aiming, beyond getting them away.

He lets out a relieved laugh, looking around at everyone, in one piece and notably not shot. They still have to get back to the tank, but they made it. They're safe.

"Leo! You did it!" He whoops, looking down at his little brother. "I can't believe you really- ...Leo?"

That's when he realizes that Leo isn't moving.

He's slumped over in Raph's hold, no longer holding himself up. His katana slip out of his lax grip and fall into the snow with a soft whump.

"L-leo!? LEO!"

Part 1 | Part 2 (here) | Part 3 | Part 4 Part A |

#rottmnt #dandy fanfiction #rise raph #rise april #rise mikey #rise donnie #baron draxum #rise splinter #rise leo #cw violence #cw guns

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