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fiveisnumber1 · 3 years

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The Vortex That Takes Me To You - "Me, Lu, and Five Times Two" Side Story

Main story parts:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32

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"Wait!" Five called out as he tried to hand you the briefcase

It was too late though as Luther pushed him into the vortex to 2019. As Five held the now-defunct half of the briefcase he fell through time for what felt like a matter of seconds before hitting the ground of the courtyard behind the academy. With a giant flash, the spot in the sky where the blue used to be was now gone. From afar the five known living Hargreeves siblings slowly approached the person who dropped from the sky. Slowly, Five got up from the ground throwing the broken briefcase away as he dusted the dirt and leaves off his clothing. Approaching closer the group looks on in confusion as Klaus asks,

"Does anyone else see a slightly older version of little number Five or is that just me?"

Five took a look down at himself. His suit was too loose now and when he looked at his hands he saw no more wrinkles or signs of old age. There was a leftover puddle nearby from rain that must've occurred early and as he bent over it he saw the version of himself that he had left only moments ago. Bringing a hand up to his face, he stared at his newly youthful reflection.

"I'm young again." He whispered to himself

At the same time that this was happening you were making your way to the florist to pick up flowers that Pogo had ordered. As you walked to the shop you felt that something was wrong. No, not wrong, but different. From behind you, you felt a molecular disturbance and a giant one at that. As you continued to walk to the shop the physical pain grew so much that you had to stop and bend over. It felt like your insides were being torn apart bit by bit. Somehow managing to turn around you felt the direction it was coming from. It was coming from back towards the house. The pain of the disturbance went on for a few more seconds but then abruptly it stopped. Catching your breath, you stood back up but something felt familiar in a way. It was like an odd chill of deja vu but you had never experienced this before. But if the disturbance was coming from the house then the flowers could wait. Reginald didn't deserve flowers anyway. Quickly, you started sprinting back towards the Academy trying to get there as quickly as you could.

Back at the house, the five Hargreeves siblings sat around the kitchen table as they watched the newly returned Five make a sandwich. It had been years since they had last seen him and a lot had changed in that time. Everyone had their own thoughts and feelings on the matter and some were more upset than others. Five wasn't exactly sure what to say to them after all this time. It was quite a complicated situation to be in. Trying to not let his uncertainty show, Five stoically questioned,

"What is the date? The exact date."

The group stays quiet for a second before Vanya states,

"The 24th."

"Of?" Five pressed

"March," Vanya replies

"Good." Five comments

This was exactly the time that he was planning to be here, on the day of his father's funeral. Thank god that man was dead. If he was alive he would never hear the end of it.

"So are we gonna talk about what just happened?" Luther asks

It was no surprise to Five that Luther would speak up. Even after all this time, he was trying to take the lead on things. Instead of responding to his brother, Five puts two slices of bread down on a cutting board and focuses on his desired food item. He hadn't eaten all day and apparently paradox psychosis was a real energy drainer. He needed a second before he was going to explain anything. Standing up, Luther looks down to Five and states firmly,

"It's been 17 years."

"It's been a lot longer than that." Five replies immediately jumping behind Luther to find marshmallows

"I didn't miss that." Luther comments

While Five looks around the kitchen for the marshmallows, Diego asks accusingly,

"So where'd you go?"

Of course, an accusatory tone. How could Diego not have one? Five could just tell that Diego was upset not because he had disappeared for years but because he was the one that made you disappear for years. If only the siblings cared for each other as much as Diego cared for you, maybe things would be different. Five didn't have time for Diego's older brother shtick though. Jumping back to the table with the marshmallows, Five bluntly replied,

"The future. It's shit by the way."

"Called it!" Klaus exclaims

Five turned towards the refrigerator to get peanut butter for his sandwich, his mind wandering as he thought back to his time in the apocalypse. 45 years. He was so arrogant to think he could time travel. Grabbing the peanut butter jar, Five talks aloud,

"I should've listened to the old man. You know jumping through space is one thing, jumping through time is a toss of the dice."

Unscrewing the lid of the peanut butter jar Five looks up from the sandwich he was making and at his siblings before him. The last time he had seen them all together was as corpses. And before that, they were all still children. It was a lot to take in but he was focused on his task of stopping the apocalypse. He had the information he needed on what caused it, but he needed to find the right time to discuss it with everyone. Keeping a stoic look he tries to deflect his mind to something else by commenting to Klaus,

"Nice dress."

"Oh, Danke," Klaus responds playing with some of the loose straps

As he starts to assemble the sandwich he was making Vanya questions him,

"So how did you get back?"

"In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time." Five responds

"That makes no sense," Diego says confused

"Well, it would if you were smarter." Five remarks

Diego angrily stands up and stares down Five attempting to get towards him to attack him. Instead, Luther stands up puts out an arm to hold him back. Honestly, it didn't matter if Luther was there to stop Diego or not. He was all bark and no bite.

"How long were you there?" Luther asks

"45 years." Five states bluntly "Give or take."

Luther and Diego both sit back down in unison. All the siblings stare at their brother with wide eyes in shock at his statement. 45 years?

"So what are you saying? You're 58?" Luther asks

"No. My consciousness is 58. My body is 18 again." Five retorts

With his sandwich put together, Five walks off to the side of the table they all sat around and faces away from his siblings.

"How does that even work?" Vanya inquires

"I used the improper equation when I was forced through time." Five replies

"Improper equation?" Vanya questions

Electing to ignore Vanya's question, Five turns back towards his siblings at the table. There was no reason to explain all that had happened before he came here. It was unnecessary and would probably worry his siblings more than they needed to be, or perhaps even enrage them and there was no way he was going to stop the apocalypse if his siblings weren't willing to work together. Picking up a newspaper detailing the death of his father, Five takes a look at it before commenting unamused,

"Guessed I missed the funeral."

"How did you know about that?" Luther asks

"What part of the future do you not understand." Five remarks to him, his eyes not leaving the paper "Heart failure, huh?"

"Yeah," Diego says

"No," Luther adds

Ah, yes. One and Two still fighting to be the leader of the family as if it hadn't been years since the dissolution of the Umbrella Academy.

"Hmm. Nice to see nothing's changed." Five comments

The Hargreeves looked at their newly returned brother and as he stood there quietly, holding his sandwich he stared back awkwardly at his siblings. The prior self that he left in the '60s said that you would show up when the conversation with his siblings felt over. It felt pretty over right now and there was no sign of you. Five's heart started to race, everything had been laid out for him, and now nothing was going according to plan. Panicked, Five decided it was best to leave. Keeping a serious look on his face he started to walk out of the kitchen.

"Uh, that's it? That's all you have to say?" Allison questioned

"What else is there to say?" Five responded

When he was out of sight of his siblings he once again noticed how his suit didn't fit him properly anymore. He needed to change. Flashing upstairs he looked in the closets of his siblings but was met with academy uniform after academy uniform. Reluctantly, he took an academy uniform from Klaus' closet since it looked like it would fit best and put it on. He stared at himself in the mirror for a bit before deciding to head back downstairs.

Making it back to the house, you looked around, and only felt faint traces of a disturbance. Maybe you were going crazy? Heading through the front door you looked around the foyer and some other rooms on the main floor and upper floors but found no one. Maybe they all got in an argument and left, it's not like they enjoyed being here anyway. Letting out a small sigh you made your way back downstairs to the parlor. Someone would probably show up soon enough. You stood in the doorway for a second and stared at the portrait above the fireplace. You had hated the painting at first, but you tolerated its presence after years of coexisting with it. Carefully, you made your way over to the fireplace and looked up at the portrait that loomed over you. It was nothing like him. No light in his eyes, no cocky smile on his face, no personality. Just an emotionless and unrealistic replication of who he was. You wanted him to come back.

As you stared at his portrait, Five had made his way downstairs and took in what had become of his home. As he approached the parlor he saw a giant portrait of him on the wall and below it stood a familiar figure. Five stopped in his tracks and his heart began to race. This was his (Y/N). Five readjusted his jacket and tie and took in a breath before slowly starting to walk over to you. Hearing footsteps behind you, you stopped looking at the painting and turned to look where they came from. Seeing the figure before you, your eyes went wide with shock as the world around felt like it was slowing down. Carefully, you moved forward towards him almost as if in a trance, worried that if you moved too fast he would vanish. You extended your hand out and Five moved to meet you in the middle. When the two of you were close enough your fingertips lightly brushed his cheek, but you quickly pulled back, shocked by the feeling of something there.

"I think I'm hallucinating again," you whisper

Five reaches out and gently grabs the hand you had retracted. Bringing it closer to him he places it on top of his heart, holding your hand there. You can feel his heart beating rapidly beneath your hand as your own started to catch up to match his. You looked up at his face and gazed into his eyes. Tears prick your own as you softly ask,

"Five?"

Five smiled at you as he looked upon your face. You were so beautiful. Not that you weren't in the 60s but the way you looked at him now was different. It was soft and welcoming and felt like it was only for him. Leaning in just a little closer Five whispered to you,

"I'm here."

You let out a small gasp. He was here. This was real. Flinging your arms around him you held him tightly as Five wrapped his arms around to hold you back. No wonder his other self was so protective, who would ever want to let this go? You looked up at Five. A question had loomed on your mind ever since the day he vanished and you had to know the answer.

"Are you still mad at me?" You questioned nervously

Five saw the nervous look on your face. He knew that you had wondered if he was mad at you for a while. It was one of the last things you had said to him before you...died. Five took your face into his hands. Looking gently into your eyes he answered,

"I was never mad at you, to begin with. I was mad at my dad and one of my biggest regrets will always be taking that out on you and then leaving you all alone."

With his response, a weight fell off your shoulders. For so long you had thought you were the one that drove him away. You thought he was mad at you all this time, but to know that wasn't the case made you feel so much better.

"So you didn't purposely stay away?" You asked

"No, how could I ever choose to be away from my best friend?" Five added

You looked off to the side as best as you could, given that your face was held between his hands, and hoped that he didn't notice the blush rising to your cheeks.

"I don't know, but I missed you." You mumbled

Five took his hands from your face and hugged you once more responding,

"I missed you too. Not a day went by when I didn't."

You smiled knowing that Five had missed you as much as you missed him. Day after day, month after month, year after year, you thought of him as you waited for him to come back. And now here he was before you telling you he felt the same way. It was all that you needed to hear. Well...there were other things you wanted to hear but those were more so desires than necessities. You were just happy to have him back.

"Pull that shit again and I'll kill you." You joke as you give him a small shove away

"I promise I won't." Five replies with a smirk "Although I don't think you would kill me anyway."

"Perhaps." You respond

Five threw his hands into the pockets of his academy shorts and looked at you.

"Care to walk and talk around the house?" Five offered

"Of course. Would you like me to turn invisible so you look insane for old times sake?"

"I already look insane in this uniform." Five joked

"You always did. C'mon, let's go." You say extending your hand towards him

Five looks at your hand, almost hesitant to take it because none of this felt real. Even though he had been around you not too long ago back in the 60s, this truly was different. This version of you hadn't seen him since the day he left. Unlike prior you who had experienced being around him, you had waited every day for his return. There was an excitement and awe that he got from you this time around that made him nervous. As Five thought more about the situation before him he froze up. As much as he trusted you when you said that you loved him the way he loved you Five still couldn't help but wonder if his other self just had better circumstances. He still worried that maybe that version really was just lucky. Five didn't want to get this wrong, but nevertheless, he took your hand. Fingers intertwining, there was electricity you both felt but would not tell the other.

With a smile, you started to walk around the house as you had done many times before, both of you trying your best to catch the other up. The conversation came easy as if the two of you were never separated. Five took in the sights of his old home. Nothing had really changed since he left, minus the small presence you had created. There was a newer piano in the parlor and you had shown off your wonderful room to him. He remembered your description of it from your diary and how you changed it from being Diego's to yours but it was even better in person. As you two exited your room Five looked down the hall at a shut door. It was his room. Five made his way there and you followed behind. Carefully, he opened the door to it and stepped inside. Once more you followed behind and thinking that the sight of his childhood room might be tough for him, you shut the door.

As you shut the door though Allison who had been heading to her room happened to pass by and noticed the two of you in there. Something about you two being together again reignited the feelings of her youth. She remembered the times when you and she had traded secrets about your crushes. The gossip in her immediately needed to tell someone else. Turning back around she went downstairs and noticed the rest of her siblings in the parlor again. Approaching them all she said,

"I don't want to alert anyone but Five and (Y/N) went into Five's room and shut the door."

"WHAT?!" Diego shouted as he angrily turned to face her

"Oooh, juicy," Klaus commented "I remember being 18 and hormonal. Horniness levels are through the roof, I mean-"

"NOT ON MY WATCH!" Diego yelled cutting Klaus off

There was no way his baby sister was going to be in a room with a boy alone. Especially not with the boy who had left her alone and broke her heart. What was he going to do? Break it again? Not if he had anything to say about it. With his fists clenched tight Diego started to march his way out of the parlor. He was going to protect his little tiny princess, but as he attempted to go, Luther, with his superior strength, held him back.

"Let me go, Luther!" Diego yelled

"We shouldn't just barge in there Diego." Luther criticizes

"That's MY little sister!" Diego retorts

"There are better ways of approaching this," Luther replies

"I want to know what's going on though..." Vanya comments

"Me too," Allison adds

As the group stands around debating Ben leans over to Klaus and says,

"Klaus."

"What do you want?" Klaus replies annoyed

"Is that camera we bought as kids still in Five's room?" Ben asks

"Yeah, we never took it out. Why?"

"The tablet to watch the video feed on is in my closet." Ben states

Klaus looks at him confused for a second before realizing what Ben meant. Getting excited Klaus exclaims,

"Guys! Guys!"

The rest of the group looks over to him confused and with all of their attention grabbed Klaus continues,

"The video camera we got as kids is still in Five's room and the tablet is in Ben's closet!"

"Do you think it still even works?" Allison questions

"It's worth a try," Luther says

The group looks at each other before silently nodding in agreement. Together they head up to Ben's room and search for the tablet in his closet. Finding it they turn on the switch and to their surprise, it works. The picture quality was not as great as they remember but clear enough that they all can see what is going on. As they all stand over the tablet Diego says annoyed,

"Alright Five, what are you hiding from me."

"From us." Luther corrects

The two brothers glare at each other before turning their attention back to the tablet and the two of you in Five's room. Five stepped into his room quietly taking in the surroundings. Nothing had changed, it was as if his room was frozen in time. As he looks around you slowly approach his side. Standing next to him you looked around the room as well and comment,

"It's an odd feeling. Knowing that time has passed but everything looks the same."

Five looks towards you. Of course, you knew the feeling he was going through.

"No worries though, we'll get you everything you need to make this place feel like home again." You mention

"I already have everything I need to feel at home." Five replies, his hand holding yours just a little tighter

Five gazes in your direction but as he does so he notices something behind you. Letting go of your hand he steps around you curious and makes his way over to his desk. Looking down at the object placed there he realized that it's the radio he had taken from Allison all those years ago. Confused as to what he was looking at you followed him towards the desk and saw the radio.

"I can't believe it's still here after all this time." Five comments

"Well we never gave it back and I'm guessing nobody wanted to come take it after..." You mention trailing off

"Yeah..." Five replies before questioning "I wonder if it still works?"

You shrugged your shoulders and gestured to the old electronic encouraging him to see if it worked. Leaning down Five plugs in the old radio before pressing the on button. The sound of static blasts loudly through the speakers causing both of you to flinch back a little in shock. After a moment Five started to turn the knob to tune the radio, searching through for a station that was clear. Soon the static started to fade and in its place music could be heard.

As the camera continues to spy on the two of you, the rest of the Hargreeves siblings watch what goes on from Ben's room. Seeing the working radio Allison exclaims,

"Hey, it's my radio! I never got it back!"

"Allison, it's been years and still no one cares about your radio." Klaus comments "We want to know what's up with Five and (Y/N)."

Allison lets out a huff and crosses her arms. Just because it was old and she hadn't been in possession of it or thought about it for years didn't mean it wasn't hers. Even with her pouting, the siblings continued to observe. As they did so Diego aggressively says,

"Alright Five what shit are you going to pull now?"

"I don't think he's going to do anything." Vanya comments "I mean there's nothing wrong with them being happy."

Back in Five's room, music flowed through the air as Five leaned against the edge of his desk, watching you look around the place. He was absolutely enthralled by you. The most mundane of things seemed extravagant just because you were there with him. A wide smile appeared on his face as he remembered a similar time he had spent with you. You took in the room silently as the upbeat music played. It had been a bit since you'd last been in Five's room, but for the first time in a while it felt warm and bright again. Looking over your shoulder you looked back towards Five and noticed the smile on his face.

"What?" You questioned

"Nothing." Five replied with a shake of his head

"Nothing? The mind of Five Hargreeves is completely empty?" You joke sarcastically "This is something I'd expect from your brothers, not you."

Five rolled his eyes at you but he missed your quick wit. No one at the commission could keep up with him like you could. As you walked back over to him, Five could see the look on your face waiting for him to elaborate.

"I was just thinking-" Five starts to explain before being cut off

"Ah, so you were thinking!" You comment back

"Yes." Five replies letting out a small laugh "I was thinking about how this reminds me of our friendiversary a bit."

"Yeah, kind of, minus the food and flowers." You reply

You were right, there was no food and flowers. How could he even think to compare the two times when this time wasn't as perfect? Quickly standing up from the desk, Five starts to make his way over to the door as he states worried,

"Do you want food and flowers?"

Reaching out, you grab his hand preventing him from going any further. Stopping in his tracks he looks back towards you confused at your action. Gently, you pull his hand back towards you, causing him to come back close to you. With his hand still in yours, Five asks confused,

"Do you not want food and flowers?"

"No, Five." You replied with a smile "I just want you."

For a moment, Five could feel his heart stop. Although his expression seemed calm and collected, internally he had no clue what to do. He was so preoccupied trying to figure out how to get back to 2019 so he could stop the apocalypse that he never stopped to think fully about what would happen when he actually did so. And it wasn't until he met himself that he even found out being a teenager again was a possibility. This was the most unprepared he had ever been and the nerves he felt on your friendiversary were nothing compared to the nerves he felt now. If you didn't want food or flowers then what could he do? And then from the radio, he heard the voice of the announcer,

"This is Arlo Vegas with 103.5 WKTU. I hope that even with all the doom and gloom outside today everyone can stay high and dry. Up next, a throwback to 2017 this is Adore by Dean Lewis."

I'm just gonna stand with my bag hanging off my left arm I'm just gonna walk home kicking stones at parked cars But I had a great night, 'cause you kept rubbing against my arm So I'm just gonna stand with my bag hanging off my left arm

Five looked towards the radio as the sound of a soft guitar slowly playing and the lyrics of the song enveloped the room. As the music played he remembered the part of your friendiversary that he could never forget. He remembered how the two of you danced that night and the joy he felt in that moment. Looking back towards you he nervously asked,

"Would you like to dance...with me?"

"I'd love to." You replied longingly

Five guided you the few steps towards the center of his room taking a quiet breath as he tried to calm his nerves. How did he do this so easily as a child? Oh right, he didn't realize he was in love with you then. Turning back to face you he saw as your eyes lit up and your smile widened. So much for breathing when you took his breath away so easily. Gently, he took one of your hands in his as he wrapped his other arm around your waist. You wrapped your free arm around his neck as the two of you slowly started to dance to the music.

Get me a drink, I get drunk off one sip, just so I can adore you I want the entire street out of town just so I can be alone with you Now go when you're ready My head's getting heavy, pressed against your arm I adore you

"So is this what your prom was like last week?" Five asked

You looked up towards him slightly confused. How did he know about your prom? It took you a second to remember but you then recalled that he had come from the future so he had to have found out about it somehow. You recalled your prom only a week ago, it was fun to be with your friends but it was definitely not the same experience as dancing with Five. With a slight chuckle, you answer.

"No, it was not like this."

"Oh, why not?" Five questions

"Well dancing with you is quite different than dancing with Dean, because neither of us had dates and we pitied each other." You explained

"I wish I could've come a week earlier then. I would've saved you the pity by dancing with your brother." Five joked

"Wow, okay." You laughed

"I'm joking." Five explained, his expression softening as he added "I'd never pass up a chance to dance with you."

"Neither would I." you replied quietly

All of my money is spent on these nights, just so we can hang out Spacing in and out of your dresses, I wanna be found by you Found by you

As the two of you swayed you couldn't help but rest your head against his chest. A small smile appeared on your face as you closed your eyes and comfortably melted into the moment. Unconsciously, you started to stroke the hair at the back of his head casing Five to lean into your touch. It was so gentle and soft. Five could feel his heart start to pick up its pace. He hoped that you couldn't hear so because he had no clue how he would explain it to you. Granted, he knew all the words he wanted to say to you but he didn't know if he'd even be able to get them out.

As your head rested on top of him a thought came to your mind. It was something that you hadn't done in a while and something you had desired to do. Lifting your head up, you look towards Five who looks back down towards you. Had he done something wrong? Did you hear how fast his heart was beating? Quietly you ask,

"Will you spin me?"

Relief washes over Five's system as he gives you a soft smile.

"Of course I will," He replies

Slightly breaking away from you he helps to twirl you around, the smile on your face filling his heart to the point he felt it was going to burst. Your laughter filled the room as you enjoyed your time with your best friend. You couldn't think of anything to make the moment better. Five spins you back in towards him before spinning you out once more. As you spin out quickly your grip on his hand slips and you start to fall back. Quickly, Five flashes over and catches you. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist as yours find their way around his neck.

She kicks the gutter in tight shorts, basketball courts Watch me, watch her talk to boys I'm known as a right-hand slugger Anybody else wanna touch my lover?

The two of you look at each other both trying to catch your slight breaths from the burst of adrenaline that just occurred.

"I told you I wasn't going to let you fall." Five comments

It was too late for that though. You had fallen for him years ago in a situation exactly like this one. There was something different about it this time, an energy you had never felt before. Your eyes were still locked on each other he slowly brought you back up. The soft bridge of the song played in the back but all either of you could hear was the beating of your own hearts. Wrapped up tightly in each other's arms there was no space between the two of you. Each of you wanted to say so many things, wanted to shout the thoughts that raced in your mind, the ones you always had, but no words came out. As Five stood there with you in his arms he finally started to understand what you meant back in the 60s when you said the pieces would fall into place. Everything about this moment felt right like it was meant to be. Like he was meant to be here with you. As you continued to look into each other's eyes there was a magnetism that pulled you closer. Your faces inched closer as the space between you lessened more and more. For a moment you both wondered if you were dreaming but no, this was real. You were here with each other. And as the climax of the final verse hit, your eyes closed as your lips gently pressed against each other.

Tenderly, you both expressed everything you wanted to tell the other without saying any words at all. The years of pining and longing to be reunited had finally culminated into something beautiful. Something you both had desired for a very long time. The world around you faded away leaving only the two of you and your newly acknowledged love for each other. Removing his arms from your waist he took your face in his hands, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. He never wanted to leave this moment. This was all he ever wanted, this is what he survived and fought for and now to have it? It felt unreal to him. But it was real. He had you, and you had him, and nothing would ever take that away now.

I adore you

Neither of you wanted to be the first to part from the kiss but as the final lyric of the song ended the two of you slowly separated. With eyes still closed, you rested your foreheads against each other, relishing in the beautiful moment. As Five held you close, he knew he needed to tell you something. Even if he had expressed it in his kiss to you, he wanted to verbalize it, to make it know and make it real. Moving one of his hands from your cheek to your chin, he tilted your face up to look at him. As he gazed into your eyes, with adoration in his voice, he whispered,

"I love you, (Y/N)."

You could feel your stomach flutter with butterflies as you processed his words. There was nothing you wanted to hear more than those words. Finally getting to express how you felt, you replied breathlessly,

"I love you too, Five. You know what this means now though."

"What?" Five questioned

"You can never leave me again." You answer

"I promise nothing will ever tear us apart again. Not people, not distance, not time, nothing."

The two of you looked at each other lovingly before leaning in for another kiss. As you did so the siblings in the other room saw everything.

"Awww," Vanya said as she placed a hand over her heart

"They're so cute!" Allison exclaimed

"They are not!" Diego remarks angrily as he tries to make his way to the door "I'm going to go in there and stop him."

"Luther, stop him." Allison requests

Doing as she says, Luther wraps his arms around Diego from behind and picks him off the ground. Kicking his legs and wriggling around, Diego fights like a child trying to escape Luther's grasp.

"That is my little princess! I need to put a stop to this!" Diego complains

"She is 18, you need to let her live her life," Allison replies

"Not with him! The one who ruined it." Diego retorts

"I don't think she sees it that way," Vanya interjects

As the other siblings argue with Diego, Ben leans over to Klaus and states,

"If I was alive you would owe me $20 bucks right now. I told you they'd come back and get together before Allison and Luther would."

"Oh, shut up," Klaus replies

The rest of the group looks over to Klaus before looking back at the still flailing Diego.

"Klaus makes a good point. You need to drop this and shut up Diego." Allison states

"I will not!" Diego replies back

"If you don't calm down, drop the issue, and let them be happy I will rumor you into doing so." Allison threatens

It takes a moment but Diego soon stops his fighting. He was not going to be rumored into ignoring the situation but for now, he would put it off. Letting out a huff, Diego relents,

"Fine."

"Good, now let's shut down this camera and just leave them be. We can talk to them later." Luther commands as he puts Diego back down

And so as the siblings tried to quietly file out of Ben's room and go off to do other things, this version of Five and you stayed happily together ready to take on whatever the future threw at them.

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Taglist: @xplrreylo @joebob15274 @insatiable-ivy @fruitsaladtree @angelpeachamber @academy-umbrella @lizziel1410 @ir3neeee @faith-quake @aliens-with-colas @sunsetcurve-1995 @lady-celeste25 @im-dead-and-hurting @nerdypinupcrystal @cherry-ki-d @anapocalypseinmymind @vicassa @2cuteforyourlies @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @shadowycreationcupcake @emily-hargreeves @metor-showers1994 @fivehargreevesforthewin @rinko-san @supernovavision @cicilisthebest @flickbix @hi-v-juice @magykal-777 @zosiaduda @thethirdwheelfriend @mysticracoon @isnt-it-loverly @officiallydarkgeek @lady1505 @always-the-very-worst @tinypandagirl @libidinexx @lemongrabbuns @itwasallred @deadandoverit @shlokage @keksi249 @theoriginalkat @we-stan-fiction @bi-idiot-fanfics @annnagennnie @izzyjojo4 @megasimpleplan4ever @flowertoty @grabthemoneyandletsgo @itsametaphorbriansblog @vanillacaramelhoney @satvaldiva @disaster-magician @margotsfandoms @emily-b-m @bluechildrenlickmytoes @soft-slytherin-sweetie @oceanspray5 @im-here-for-fanfics @thebloodrobin @freestarlight @starcurrent @lilacs-lavender @moatsnow @give-the-boy-a-hug @narikyuwu @whenyouregrungeaff @gabriella-aesthetic @xxtwizztedxx

#The Umbrella Academy #Umbrella Academy #umbrella acedmy #tua #tua2 #UA #number five #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy five #umbrella academy five

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belit0 · 3 years

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1500k Commission [Uchiha Obito / Fem Reader] @obitobrigade

🌹My Ko-Fi page [Commissions are open!]

Obito x Coffy NSFW baking chocolate chip cookies at home. *coffy is a thick thighs/ booty girl, nerdy, wears glasses, freckles... *

[Drawing by @obitobrigade TO USE IT ASK HER PERMISSION, IT IS HER CREATION, DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION!]

Under the rain, Obito runs, trying to take shelter under every roof or balcony he finds to avoid the icy water falling from the sky. Of course, he doesn't carry an umbrella, he always thought he was too cool for such things, although at times like these he regrets it.

He bumps into several people before managing to stop at the door of a shop, with his jacket soaked and his jeans completely wet. Frustrated and grumbling, he reaches into the pocket of his tight trousers and looks for the paper you gave him before leaving.

The note is ruined, breaking because of the humidity and with the ink dripping on its surface.

"How am I supposed to know what ingredients to buy now? How were those cookies made? She's going to kill me..."

Slapping his face, he grunts, scolding himself before the grey panorama of the city. He has only fifteen minutes before the shops start closing, and he doesn't even remember what he had to take home.

Of course, his pride is too great to return empty-handed, that is why, angry and motivated not to disappoint you, he sets off again, adjusting the hood of his jacket over his head and running to his destination, avoiding pedestrians.

Eventually he arrived at the supermarket where the shopping was usually done, with about 10 minutes left before the doors closed. In desperation, he did not hesitate and entered like a hurricane, leaving a trail of water behind him on the dry floor. His panicked face prevented anyone from daring to tell him anything, and with a hasty pace but without being able to trot, he headed for the first shelf he found, without even knowing what he was looking for.

Fortunately, there was an employee there, a young man with brown hair and red marks on his face. The teenager smelled like a dog, as if he hadn't bathed for days, but that would have to be enough. Although being a shy person, someone who hates unnecessary contact or interactions, Obito was forced to approach and talk to him, being his last chance to achieve his goal.

The boy was placing products in their respective places, with headphones and chewing gum noisily, when the Uchiha touched his shoulder and scared him.

"WHAT THE FUCK MAN?! DON'T YOU KNOW HOW TO KNOCK?!"

"What the...? Never mind. Kid, I need your help."

"Why do you think I'm wearing this stupid uniform, old man?"

"You little piece of shit, tell me what ingredients I need to make chocolate chip cookies."

"Nothing is free in life, you know? I have to buy food for my dog, I have to pay for my food, I have to..."

Taking money out of his wet pocket, Obito cursed the teenager lowly, who smiled smugly at having won the hand.

"Take it and shut up. Tell me what I need or I'll wait for you outside until your shift is over.

"Don't you have a nursing home to go back to? This way, I'll share with you the recipe my mom uses."

After getting what was needed according to that child, Obito left the shop with a bag of groceries, hoping to have bought what was needed and not to disappoint you when he got home.

Running again in the rain, the trip to your flat was much quicker. His anxiety to get there and be dry, warm and comfortable next to you was too much. Until he remembered that he might have picked up the wrong ingredients and wanted the earth to swallow him up.

His intengrity as Uchiha was at stake.

The Uchihas never make mistakes, that is the first basic rule of the clan.

Arriving at the door, he used the key that you had given him some time ago to enter, being grateful not to feel the cold of the wind and water on his soaked body. He made his way to the elevator and headed to your floor, finding your entrance quickly and getting in without announcing himself.

But of course you were there to welcome him.

"Obi, you really should have taken an umbrella... it's not such a big deal you know?

" Over my dead body [Y/N], none of that.

"You're soaked! There's not a part of your clothes that doesn't drip with water! Go to the bathroom and take a hot shower please, I don't want you to get sick"

Removing the grocery bag from his hand and closing the door, you pushed him into the bathroom, leaving him to take care of himself. Being that you had been together for some time, it was usual to find his clothes among your things, so it was not strange to get a change of underwear and a pair of trousers. No luck with the shirt.

It took him a while to finish, as the warm feeling on his body after being mistreated by the frost was like paradise. When he came out, you offered him the clothes you had available, and although you also gave him the option of a sweater he didn't want to accept it, remaining without a shirt and with his chest in the air.

His heart stopped when you opened the bag and started to take out the ingredients, placing them on the kitchen table and putting on the cooking apron. But by not telling him anything, by not reproaching him for bringing the wrong flour, the wrong milk, how bad the butter was, his body began to relax. Staying by your side, he observed your features as you started to work, your dark hair falling on your shoulders and its beautiful volume, your freckles hidden under your glasses, your hips embraced beautifully by your trousers.

His eyes were feasting when your voice woke him up.

"Come on sir, you have to help me, no looking!”

"Yes, ma'am!"

Both put hands to work, and Obito's concentration managed to last a short time in the work he was doing, before getting lost again in your figure, in your profile, in your thighs, in how easily you managed to make him laugh just by smiling.

Your presence was light in his life, and nobody could replicate it.

Positioning himself behind you, he put his hands back on the kitchen table, working again while his bare chest was stuck behind your back and his waist was pressed against your butt.

When his member found that cozy space between your rear, his hands completely forgot what to do with the cookies, and you found no reason to complain. His movements were soft and gentle, his hips swayed from side to side, letting you feel his cock getting harder and harder just by touching you over your clothes, and his abs acted as support for your body when you needed to lean back.

"Don't stop working, I want to eat those today.”

"But you did stop working...”

"I'm about to work on another cookie, if you know what I mean...”

Kneeling on the floor, Obito lowered your trousers and underwear, exposing your pussy which was beginning to get wet without shame. Almost like a hungry man, he held your buttocks with both hands and opened your butt, gaining access and sliding his tongue from your clitoris to your ass. He brought his warm, strong muscle back into your cunt, delivering rapid, continuous movements to your sensitive pearl while two of his fingers reached inside you and began an intense motion.

It didn't take him long to get your body to build up that wonderful discharge, pounding his digits to the right spot while with his other hand he lowered his own clothes and began to masturbate on the floor from the arousal. Overwhelmed by the sensations of pleasure and the moaning that your man was generating inside you, it was impossible for you to even remember that you were cooking, holding strongly with both hands on the kitchen table while your orgasm was furiously approaching.

Once you reached your climax, he stood up, hitting your buttocks with his hard, erect length, letting you know he madly needed to be inside you. Holding your waist, he bent his knees and positioned his tip in your humping hole, guiding himself into your canal slowly, enjoying how his skin was stretched back by the friction.

One of his hands slipped along the side of your body, dirtying your clothes with kitchen ingredients and grabbing you by the neck, exerting a gentle pressure, just the way you like it. With his mouth in your ear, his movements began, while his mind was too clouded with pleasure to even formulate words.

Deep breaths escaped from his chest as the sound of skin against skin filled the kitchen, and your screams made him feel as if he were being pushed by a rush of vertigo and pure pleasure.

The way your warm pussy milked his cock felt like a dream, a wonderful moment that he wanted to last forever, but eventually, his climax attacked him, thanks also to his previous masturbation, being accompanied by your second orgasm.

#uchiha obito x reader #obito uchiha x reader #obito x reader #obito uchiha #uchiha obito #obito #naruto shippuden #naruto imagines #naruto x reader #commission #ko-fi

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haiky-u-lously · 3 years

Text

King Kuroo and the Red Knights (13)

Summary: A Camelot AU where King Arthur is Kuroo Tetsuro, and the Knights of the Roundtable of characters from seasons 1-4 of the HQ anime. Eventual Kuroo X Reader.

Themes: Fluff, Angst, Humor, Eventual Romance

Warnings: Mentions of stalking and abuse of power, Language, Angst in feelings, Eventual gore and fighting

Word Count: For Chapter: ~4000words

Questions/Comments/Concerns/Ideas welcome as always. Enjoy! –Admin Red

Chapter 13: Round 1C

“Do you have many tournaments in your home?” The King questioned you as he took his seat while the arena was cleared of the fallen trash from the stands surrounding it.

Shaking your head in the negative, you also moved to take a seat.

“Generally we hold them in celebrations, or as contests for some big prize.” He said, smiling while you presumed he reminisced about past memories. “When my father got sick and I had more responsibilities placed on me, I ended up planning almost one a month to give me a reason to expel some of my stress. The men, they just went right along with my whims.” His eyes took a fond look over them as he paused in his spiel, “But the month he died, I didn’t feel like doing much of anything. It took much effort on all of their parts to get me to do regular duties, let alone plan and prepare tournaments. Yuurei too had more burdens to bear from my lack of control over my own state. She had to do a lot more that one month than any Queen in Camelot’s history.” Kuroo shook his head, before bringing a small smile back to his face. “Sorry about that, kind of went off there for a bit didn’t I?” He seemed to try and laugh away the serious atmosphere he’d created, but you knew there was more in his head.

Unfortunately, now wasn’t the time to press him further, but let him get away with shaking off his own concerns.

He faced you with a wide grin, “So, is Sugawara a good fighter?”

You nodded, thinking to yourself about memories past. Your cousin was one of the youngest men to be granted the title of Red Knight. He was exceptional when it came to forming strategies, and using things and those around him to win battles. His fighting skill, while not being the top of the order, was nothing to laugh at.

“Have you fought him yourself?” Kuroo asked you, and you thought you heard a teasing tone in his questioning, but you just smiled to yourself before nodding. “Interesting, interesting. I’d ask deeper questions,” He laughed and then added, “But I know you won’t answer out loud, so I won’t press the matters. But, just know I do want to ask more than simple yes and no questions.”

Nodding once more, you accepted the King’s explanation for what it was, as just a way for him to express himself.

“Hey, hey hey!” Bokuto called from behind your sitting pair, approaching the side of Kuroo’s chair happily, “Did you see my win? Pretty great, wasn’t it!” He shouted, excitedly pumping his fists in the air before taking what had been Suga’s seat. “Sorry I missed your fight, Red Knight. But, now we get to face one another, that’ll be great!” He smiled to you, leaning far forward to see you around the other side of the King’s sitting form.

Bobbing your head in response, you grinned behind your mask. This knight in particular was overly excitable, and that was something you could use as a tactic in your fight against him.

Your vision was caught by movement from the tunnels into the heart of the stadium. Two knights walked in, side-by-side from either entrance. By the lack of marks on his borrowed uniform, you could tell which was your cousin, and noted that he walked in next to a knight marked in dark teal. By the way the two seemed to interact, you pieced together that he was entering the field with Futakuchi. Which meant the pair of knights entering the arena opposite were Semi and Yamagata, both marked with purple boxes. They were distinguished by one box having a vertical white stripe on the left half and the other bearing a horizontal white stripe on the top half.

Though in the moment it was hard to tell which knight was which, you knew you’d find out as soon as they split up for their fight.

Seeing Suga being friendly with the magician of Camelot made you happy that you’d switched places with him, and though not for the first time that you found more pleasure in it than just as a selfish reason.

You watched as the two men high-hived before your friend continued forward to his side of the makeshift battlefield. And despite yourself, you wondered what they’d been discussing.

Shaking your head to rid yourself the thoughts swirling in your mind, and ultimately deciding that you should trust Suga’s words that he’d win his fight and that you should watch Futakuchi’s.

Before Kuroo could begin the bout, you were finally able to distinguish between the two knights marked in purple and white. The horizontal striped one apparently was Yamagata as he stood with Suga, while the vertical striped one still approached Futakuchi’s side.

____________________________

Suga spun your blades against his palms, flashing the pristine shine against the sunlight to catch his opponent’s eyes. The pause in his spinning wrist, told the makeshift squire that he’d achieved the desired effect.

“These blades belong to the royal family of the Order. Passed down from generations since they are made from what is now an extinct substance.” He smiled behind the chainmail sticking out from under his borrowed helmet.

The giant metal ball hanging from the chain of Yamagata’s flail swung back and forth with the after force from the swing coming to a succinct halt.

“Are those really an alexandrite and painite pair of blades?” While unable to see the knight’s face, the heavy tone of shock and awe in his voice told the visiting fighter that the knight in front of him was primed for their battle.

When the King of Camelot shouted for the bout to begin, Suga took the brief time of his opponent's confusion to lung forward.

He elbowed Yamagata in his vambrace, knocking the fighter’s shield out of the way, and let the flail wrap itself around the alexandrite stiletto. However, to his surprise, pulling back on the blade didn’t pull the weapon from Semi’s hand.

The knight of Camelot must have regained his focus as he gritted his teeth, tightened his hold on his weapon of choice and twisted his shield wielding arm around to Suga’s breast plate and pushed him away.

Suga managed to untwist his blade from Yamagata’s flail before being shoved back, but had to quickly adjust to defending as his opponent went on the attack.

Spinning, the ball of metal kept Suga’s focus and he was forced to think solely on defense instead of how to attack. It was definitely a well practiced tactic, and in his mind, the silver-haired fighter applauded his counterpart. Unfortunately, he couldn’t break his word to the Princess of his home, he couldn’t break his promise to his cousin, his best friend. He had to find a way to counter the attack, not only defend.

Busy with his thoughts, the unmarked knight lost his footing and fell back against the hard ground.

Yamagata took note and moved fast as his flail flung over his shoulder , into the air and began rushing towards the cuirass protecting Suga’s upper chest. In the brief time that the resistance of the air between them gave him, your friend rolled to his side and the metal round hit the near solid earth.

Without really thinking, Sugawara rolled back to his original fell position--trapping his opponent’s weapon between the earth and the rear of his pauldron. The purple marked knight struggled as the chain attached to his wooden stick resisted his pull. Behind his helmet, his face contorted as he tried to manipulate the angle of the pull as the unmarked knight furthered the trap by squeezing his arm against his side, keeping the chain locked and the ball stuck where it fell.

Suga took the moment to try and think of an attack strategy. He realized that his opposite had at some point let go of his shield, and that he was using both hands in an attempt to tear back his weapon. Blinking slowly, he recalled a move he’d seen you do against some of the others back when you were still allowed to train and not sneaking behind the King’s orders to do so.

______________________

“(Y/N)!” he’d yelled out as he helplessly watched your body be flung into the ground. Your opponent was much larger than most of the knights in training. He knew the King had the instructors set this line-up to try and convince you to make the decision yourself to withdraw from this line of work.

You had barely caught your breath before the towering, older trainee hovered above you. Your lying form pulled up by the collar of your shirts, you were swinging at the forearm of your current sparring partner. A tight frown took over your features and your cousin watched as the man sneered at you, “Stupid royals, thinking you’re such tough pits. This ought to teach you why those idiots died so easily.”

He pulled back his dominant arm, preparing a full fledged power punch. And Suga saw as you half attitude-half fearful demeanor turned into pure rage. Your eye color flashed between a myriad of hues before settling on your natural shade, your lower half swung through the air, trapping your opponent’s arm and neck between your thighs right before you started to squeeze. The fighter’s shoulder blade must have been pressured against his airways as his face began to darken and everyone watching saw as his group loosened on your clothes. Your legs tighten their hold further as you cross your ankles and swing the lower half of your body to replicate a handstand before continuing the flip. Forcing the opposer to his backside and screaming through clenched teeth until he passed out and the adults in charge rushed to try and pry you off the other trainee.

________________________

The memories of other times you’d accomplished similar feets rushed through his mind and Suga’s mind locked onto one path to victory.

His legs spun over Yamagata’s head, his upper body keeping the flail trapped in its place as he brought his opponent face first into the dirt beneath him. His legs hooked under the dark haired knight’s arms as he practically sat on his backside.

With the weapon no longer in anyone’s hands, it fell limp between Suga’s arm and side. Grabbing it with three fingers while holding the painite sai with the other two, he flung it across the field and out of reach.

Yamagata’s head sat on its side, as he huffed in anger about how easily he’d been caught and disarmed. He knew he shouldn’t have changed weapons with Satori, but his friend just had to match Terushima for his fight. Guiding his breath back to a normal pace, the dark haired fighted thought about what his next play could be. Knowing his opponent helf two blades, even small ones like a sai and stiletto, was a troubling factor as he had nothing left but his armour. If he could only get the flail back...bucking his hips, he caused Suga to slightly waver in his solid position, Yamagata dropped to a lying flat position before lifting his upper body up by his arms and sliding Suga so far down his backside he could pull his legs up to his chest and bounce to a standing position. Spinning as soon as he did to face the visiting fighter for hand to hand combat.

Suga saw the stance and thought how he wished to proceed, to showcase your blades or disarm himself to fight with his body alone.

“COME ON THEN!” He heard Camelot’s King shouting, and a quick glance over his shoulder allowed him to see that King Kuroo was watching his fight with a look of pure joy across his features. While he couldn’t see your face, your body language told him you weren’t even watching his battle. Taking this to mean you expected a proper outcome from him, he held the painite sai such that all three tips stuck between the fingers of his gloves. The stiletto held by his fist.

Yamagate rushed Suga’s form, your cousin slightly jumping as the Camelot knight went low for a better hold of his missed target. Swimming the stiletto back, the tip rested against the chainmail beneath the purple marked knight’s helmet.

“Yield.” Suga warned, putting enough force into the blade that it could not be further ignored.

To his favor, the dark haired knight could sense the bloodlust in that single word. His fist slammed into the ground in anger as he realized he was out of options. Mentally he tallied that it's two losses for his team within the knights, making half of them out of the tournament. He felt like he’d let everyone down by becoming the fiftieth percent.

The unmarked knight pulled back the alexandrite stiletto enough for Yamagata to rest back on his greaves.

“Good fight Sugawara,” He commented, taking his helmet off before resting his hands on his knees, leveling out his breath before trying to move.

Taking off his own head protector, your friend smiled down at the man he’d just faced. “You as well Hayato, but I’m guessing you don’t regularly use a flail as your main weapon.” He laughed out at the face flung towards his sneer of a comment. “Gotta admit, had I not accidentally trapped it beneath my shoulder, not sure I would have figured out a quick way out.”

“Don’t try sugar-coating it, it's not helpful having the person who’d just made a complete fool of you tell you it was just luck.” The brown haired knight scowled, looking at his tightly held fists in annoyance.

Suga scoffed before taking a seat next to him, “Every fight has a shred of luck in it, and despite the attitude I believe you know that to be true. It's not that I won solely because of luck, it was that luck allowed me the slight chance to utilize skills I’ve developed through training and hard work. Just as past battles have allowed you. I am sorry if you feel I was...what did she always call it...badgering you about your loss, truly.”

Yamagata looked at him fully, recognizing the honesty and sincerity in his voice. “Badgering, huh? Guess that is as good a way to say you were picking on me as any. Can’t say I’ve heard it before. Who exactly said it always?” Half joking, half really wondering, Hayato pushed his thought forward, “Your princess cousin?”

“Yes.” Suga answered bluntly, spinning the stiletto against his open palm and watching the light alexandrite blade sparkle in the sun’s rays.

“Oh.” Was all he could respond with before glancing away from the man beside him. Thinking it must be hard to be away from someone you were so close with, without knowing when you’d see them again.

The pair stood at the same time, shook hands and then walked off the field.

_________________________

“Are you not watching your friend fight?” The King sat beside you had asked at the very beginning.

Shaking your head in the negative, you fully turned your body away from the pair in question facing the King’s magician.

“Ouch, guess he must have upset you in some manner. Well, as he is the only one to speak with you I am sure you’ll have to talk to him soon enough. But if you ever need an escape I am sure any of the knights would be willing to tour you around the main city.”

Smiling to yourself at his kindness, you considered using your powers to send him your thoughts as you did with Suga. However, you thought better of it before taking action. It had only been a week, these people couldn’t even tell what your cousin could do, let alone yourself. If you shared too much too soon, it could spell disastrous. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath you focused on watching the match before you.

__________________________

It seemed odd that Futakuchi held a two pronged weapon to you. One end matching Aone’s mace while the other looked to be a bill. The hook coming off the sharp tip protruding in a way that made you tilt your head in wonder of what his power play would be.

The attendant held the weapon with both hands, either end facing the sides rather than forward towards his opponent.

Semi however stood in front of the magician, head free from the protection offered by a helmet, nor chainmail set against his cranium hiding his hair. The dark-gray strands cadging his face in a light that reminded you of Suga whenever he scowled at you as teens. Attached to his back was the sheath for a machete, which he seemed to be reaching for as he seemingly moved in slow motion. You noted a couple other sheaths attached to his armour with other weapons ready to be drawn.

In an instant, you nearly missed as his hand wrapped around the handle of his main blade and he flung it straight at Futakuchi before it was completely pulled from its carrying place. The opponent also barely catching on to the fighter’s plan as his magic, or a very dulled down version of it in any case stopped the thick piece from hitting his own protective headgear right between the eye slits.

Before you could blink, Semi was in front of Futakuchi’s barely balanced form with a tanto fisted with the thumb on the flat rear. The sharp tip of the blade striking from its hold against the magician as he tried to put space between his attacker and self to utilize his own choice weapon.

He must have determined the big thing as obstructive as his grip loosened enough to pull Semi’s attention slightly, allowing the attendant a split brief in which he pulled a miniature dagger from seemingly nowhere. Pushing it against the tanto and forcing both weapons a safe distance away from the weaker points of his armour.

Semi smiled, as his arm swung back to its original position from a lower angle then how it was ushered away. The magician sneering to himself behind his helmet as he realized Semi had been practicing for such an occasion to face him.

“You can’t beat me every time, Futa.” He whispered into the side of his opponent’s obstructed face. “I’m a knight of Camelot, and as respected and appreciated as you are, to the people you are still meant to be a servant.”

The call from Kuroo towards the fight on the other side of the arena caused you a slip in focus and you weren’t sure how but suddenly Futakuchi was without his large weapon, barely fending off from Semi’s swings of his tanto and a dirk that had made an appearance.

The men battled it out and you were sure that Futakuchi was only using his powers to make a protective layer of energy around himself so as to not feel the brunt of force from the swings connecting with his armour. It stood to reason with his power hold that he should be defeating the knight without issue, and you wondered to yourself if he held similar standards as your troupe. If he did not want to utilize his powers if unnecessary or if he was more inclined to follow your own beliefs. It was a toss up as either would have fit the bill of not using powers against a friend in a mock-battle or training match, but it left a lot of room for questions as well.

Dooking it out some more, you felt a draw to look over at Suga, turning your head, you saw him jump aside from Yamagata’s rush and figured it was your imagination playing tricks on you. Focusing back on the pair you were determined to watch, you saw a glint of gold flash from behind Futakuchi’s helmet. Semi’s tanto swinging arm stopped midair, Futakuchi ducked beneath it and rushed to get behind his opponent before releasing the appendage and letting the swing complete its path.

Unfortunately, the short lived victory was...short lived. The gray-haired knight spun a one-eighty and right-hooked Futakuchi’s chin into the air. Knocking his helmet off and sending it flying as well as forcing the magician to shoot enough inches into the air that his own body flung back.

Thumbing his chin, still practically lying on the ground, the attendant grumbled to the knight, “Nutting toff! I give, happy?”

Smiling down at the brown haired man, Semi smiled with a killer grin, “Seeing me win does indeed make me happy.” He winked at Camelot’s magician, and you heard as many of the girls in the stands screamed at his apparent beauty.

Holding a hand out to help him up, the knight relinquished whatever pride he’d been fighting with. Taking it, Futakuchi showed he held no malice towards his counter. The two made way to pick up their discarded weapons and left the battlefield without another word spoken in front of any prying eyes.

“Good fight?” The King asked you, seeing as both battles were now finished.

Nodding your head, you thought about what could have been the reason behind such an easy defeat on the magician’s part. Recalling that he was pressed to beat the men, and that many thought Camelot’s magician would face your own in Suga. Now with that not as an option, you couldn’t help but question yourself as to why.

“Can I overshare again?” Kuroo seemed hesitant to ask. Nodding simply, you turned to face him, giving the King the full attention he seemed to desire at the moment. “I can’t remember the last time I fought with someone sitting in this box. Yuurei always seems to be caught up or sick or not around, Daishou either is fighting or not around. The knights never feel like they can be here long--even Bokuto does as before where he drops in, says his piece and leaves without saying a word. I’ve always felt like if I am here, everyone can feel me watching them and they can get a sense of strength from that, but whenever I really think about how this box is empty when I fight...it’s not a good feeling to say the least.”

You caught yourself from pitying him, he was a King, and while yes he was currently spilling a deep thought of his to you, you knew it was more because you wouldn’t be able to tell anyone more so than him wanting to actually talk to you. This was something he as a person needed to get off his chest so that he could continue being the royal his people needed, and being a royal yourself you understood that better than anyone else.So, you would let him get it out.

“I like the tournaments despite that though, because it brings such joy to the citizens and the men. I’d go through it every day if it could help even one more person. And I’m sure you’d agree to that sentiment since you seem to have such a strong sense of justice.”

Wait, what? His comment caught you off guard.

“It’s not so much as I think we are kindred spirits, but I am pretty sure you are the offspring of the Order’s King as your friend stated that first night. And, should that case be truth, I feel you would understand where I am coming from.” He smiled at you directly, and it took more willpower than you would ever admit to not move under the blinding features. “Thanks again for participating in the tourney, and for the heavy assist last week during the raid on the castle. From one royal to another, I truly appreciate having been able to meet your acquaintance.”

With his comments apparent to be done, the King strode out of the viewing box without another word.

You sat back, dumbstruck and frozen in the time it took Suga to return and lose his mind at your unresponsiveness. Staying mostly ignorant of your surroundings until Futakuchi came into the large stall and said something you didn’t really catch.

_______________________________________________

Author’s message: So, anyone shocked? No? Hmmm... Guess I’ll have to try harder on ROUND 1D.

_______________________________________________ Table of contents:

Chapter 12 Chapter 14

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art-in-the-sunlight · 4 years

Text

Assistant, Scholar, Son

By @art-in-the-sunlight for @alicecasch in the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Tony Stark & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Ned Leeds & Michelle Jones, Tony Stark & James Rhodes, Tony Stark & Happy Hogan

Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones, James Rhodes, Happy Hogan, Jim Mortia, Roger Harrington, Mr. Delmar

Summary: “Historical/Old Fashioned AU” and “Tony is Peter’s teacher.” I’d really love to see small moments where Tony realizes that he loves Peter (like that “oh. Oh” moment in fics, but make it platonic). Also, could you include a scene where they’re both looking at the stars/at a sunset/sunrise? (Just, give me pretty skies and I’ll squeal happily for hours basically). Also I love when MJ and Ned have to interact with Tony bc Peter’s being a dumbass and they’re concerned friends.

Its the 1900s. Ned gets sick, and in order to help pay the doctor fees, Peter looks for a job. He comes across James Rhodes, who believes his best friend Tony Stark is in need of an assistant. But does he really need an assistant? Or something more?

…okay so I swear I intended this to be around 2000-3000 words. I don’t know how it ended up at 5700 words with a few time gaps. I had a lot of fun planning and writing this out, and I hope you enjoy it :)

ao3 link

Peter paced worriedly outside of the orphanage boy’s bedrooms. He shared a worried glance with MJ, who was sitting with her head in her hands nearby.

“He’s never stayed this long, MJ.” Peter muttered under his breath, clearly stressed. “What- Do you think-”

“I don’t know Peter.” MJ responded. She raised her head out of her hands and looked at Peter.

“I-” Peter started, but he was interrupted by the door opening. The orphanage Director, Roger Harrington and Doctor Morita stepped out.

Doctor Morita was talking to the Director. “He’s still hanging in there, but he’s going to need doses more frequently. I recommend a spoonful daily, before breakfast.”

Director Harrington nodded solemnly. “Thanks for the help, Doctor.” He handed Doctor Morita a pouch full of coins, and then showed the Doctor out.

Peter and MJ went into the room. In the furthest bed lay their best friend, Ned Leeds. He was fast asleep, presumably from the medicine the Doctor gave him. Peter sat down next to Ned and took his hand. “Ned,” Peter said, his voice wavering slightly. “You gotta fight this. I know you can do it.”

MJ replaced the hot, damp cloth on Ned’s forehead with a cool one. “That’s right, loser. Peter would fall apart without you.”

“Hey!” Peter said indignantly.

MJ leveled Peter with a look.

Peter sighed, knowing it was true.

Director Harrington walked back into the room. “Peter, MJ, I know you guys want to stay with Ned but he needs to rest now.”

“How is he?” MJ inquired.

“Doc says he’s going to need daily doses of medicine. We’re barely able to cover the costs of medicine as it is.” The director sat down on the bed next to Ned’s.

“I can get another job?” said Peter. “Mr. Delmar only needs me in the evenings when he’s cleaning and closing up the shop. I could get the other kids, Abe and Jason to help with my chores!”

“I could help too,” interjected MJ. “Mrs. Daly’s been asking if I can stay longer, and work more days in her shop.”

Director Harrington sighed. “If you can convince Abe and Jason to cover your chores, go ahead.” He stood up. “You two need to take care of yourselves, no overworking alright? You’re no help to Ned if you get sick.” Director Harrington pulled them in for a side hug. “It’ll be alright, kiddos. Ned will recover. Have some faith, alright?”

MJ and Peter nodded, and held onto each other tightly. Ned had to get better. He would.

~ ~ ~

The next day, Peter was at the market looking for a job. He asked the local farmers, fishermen, barbers, even blacksmiths and butchers, but they all turned him away due to inexperience or because he wasn’t able to commit to a full time job. (Mr. Delmar was kind to Peter, almost like an uncle, and he let Peter take home half the shop’s tips to take care of Ned. Peter wasn’t going to give it up).

After getting rejected by the bookmaker (he had taken one look at Peter’s worn down clothing and turned away) Peter began to slowly walk out. He rarely got the opportunity to read anymore and he figured a few minutes wouldn’t hurt. Peter wandered into the science section, and quietly pulled The Scientific Revolution: Wave Theory of Light by Stark, Anthony off the shelf.

It was then he overheard two men across the book maker’s shop talking.

“And it’s not like Stark at all to send us on a wild goose chase?” Huffed the first man, clearly annoyed.

“Just keep looking. Tones said the book was here.” said the second man. He dressed in an army uniform, and had several medals hanging on his jacket.

“What was the name of the book?”

The army man pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “The Revolution in Science, by Rupert A. Hall.”

Peter looked up from this book, at the shelf. The Revolution in Science, by Rupert A. Hall sat right in front of him.

Peter picked up the book and made his way over to the men. “Uh, excuse me sir? I couldn’t help overhearing that you were looking for this book?”

The army man took the book and read the spine. “The Revolution in Science, by Rupert A. Hall. Huh, thanks kiddo.” He handed the book to the second man, who went to pay for it, before studying Peter. “What’s your name, son? How well can you read?”

“I’m Peter. I can read fairly well and I can get through most books, sir”

“That’s impressive, Peter. Who taught you?”

“My parents, Ben and Mary Parker, taught me the basics, sir. They were scientists.”

“The Parkers.” The army man turned to the second man, who had just returned, book in hand. “Didn’t Tones work with them a few times?”

The second man shrugged.

“I heard they died a few years ago.” The army man said, not unkindly. He waited to see Peter nod before continuing. “I’m sorry for your loss. You must be looking for work?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Come with me. My friend needs an assistant. I can’t promise anything but an opportunity. You’ll have to work hard, but if you take after your parents, you should be fine.”

“I… wow thank you sir!” Peter put his book The Scientific Revolution: Wave Theory of Light back on the shelf followed the army man to a carriage waiting outside the shop.

“It’s Colonel Rhodes.” The Colonel gestured to the second man who was prepping the horses to travel. “That’s Happy. He’s Tones’ carriage driver.”

“He doesn’t seem very happy, for someone named Happy.” Peter mused. Colonel Rhodes snorted in amusement, before climbing into the carriage with Peter.

~ ~ ~

Half an hour later, Peter was following Colonel Rhodes into the largest mansion - if it could even be called that - he had seen in his entire life. Peter struggled not to gape as they walked into the hall. The ceiling was twice as high as a normal house, and that was just the first floor. Fancy paintings and sculpture tastefully lined the walls. Peter was almost scared of touching anything, lest it break.

“Rhodeybear! You’re back!” Peter looked forward and saw a man quickly descend from the grand staircase towards them.

“Wait- did you mean Mr. Stark as in The physicist Stark? The Mr. Stark who is single handedly revolutionizing the field of physics and mathematics? That Mr. Stark?” Peter hissed worriedly under his voice.

Colonel Rhodes put a hand on Peter’s shoulder to reassure him. “Hey Tones! How have you been doing?”

Mr. Stark looked sad for a moment. “Uh, nevermind about that.” He spotted Peter. “Who is this? He isn’t mine, is he?” Tony joked, studying Peter. Peter felt as if he was under a microscope. He was all too aware of the large gap in social status. Peter Parker, the orphan, and Tony Stark, one of the richest men in the entire known world.

Colonel Rhodes clapped Peter on the back. “I hope not. This is Parkers’ kid, Peter. I was thinking, since Pepper returned to her brother’s you could use an assistant.”

“And you brought me a child? No, no, nope. Rhodey, you know I don’t do kids.” Mr. Stark turned away and headed down the hallway, to the kitchen.

Colonel Rhodes followed him, pulling Peter. “Tony, you know I leave for the army tomorrow. You’re going to need someone around.”

“I have Happy.”

“Happy’s only here on weekends, and an hour on weekdays.”

Mr. Stark and Colonel Rhodes stared down at each other across a table. Peter uncomfortably shifted on his feet, wishing he was anywhere else but there.

After almost a minute, Mr. Stark looked away. “Fine, only for you, Rhodeybear.”

“Thank you, Tony. I think you guys might get along. He was reading your book when I found him.”

“Oh?” Mr. Stark turned towards Peter, curious. “What did you think?”

“Um, I didn’t understand all of it - but the parts that I did I thought it was really interesting! I tried replicating some of the experiments, the one where you observe the color spectrum in the shadow of a slit of paper with my friends but we weren’t able to get the right measurements.”

“What materials were you using?”

“Um, just some paper from my Director at the orphanage? We used a knife to make the slit, and an open window for the light source.”

Mr. Stark shook his head. “You need more sophisticated tools. The slit should be less than a tenth of a millimeter, and most knives are about 3 to 6 millimeters wide.”

Peter looked thoughtful. “Would a needle work? The tip is much smaller than a knife, but I’m not sure if it’s less than a tenth of a millimeter.”

“It’s much closer, and I suppose you might be able to get the right size.” Tony mused. You’d have to consider the type of paper and thickness as well…”

Beside Peter, Colonel Rhodes gave Mr. Stark a triumphant smile. “See? I knew it would work out.” He turned to Peter. “Can you start tomorrow?”

“Yes sir. I’m available in the morning and afternoon from Mondays to Saturdays, and I’m free all day on Sunday.”

“Sounds good.” replied Mr. Stark. He stepped forward, and shook Peter’s hand. “I look forward to working with you, Peter Parker.”

“Me too, Mr. Stark.”

~ ~ ~

The next morning, Happy arrived in the carriage at the orphanage to pick up Peter. Peter quickly got in the carriage, ignoring the amazed and suspicious glances of the other orphanage kids. In reality, the ride wasn’t too long, but the lack of conversation and Peter’s nerves make the ride seem hours long. Colonel Rhodes wasn’t too clear about Peter’s job description the day before. Peter knew he’s going to help Mr. Stark out with his work, but what exactly that entails, Peter has no idea.

Eventually the carriage pulled to a stop outside Mr. Stark’s mansion. Peter climbed out, thanked Happy for the ride, before walking up to the door and knocking. On the first knock, the door swung open. Peter leaned in. “Uh, hello? Mr. Stark?”

Presumably Mr. Stark called out a reply, but it’s muffled. Peter cautiously entered, wiped his shoes and made his way over to where the voice came from. He ends up in the kitchen, and spots Tony putting away a half empty bottle of alcohol.

Hearing Peter come in, Tony glanced behind. “Hey kiddo.”

“Hello Mr. Stark.”

“Rhodey just left for the army yesterday, along with a good portion of my bourbon. I suppose I’ll have to replenish my stash.” Mr. Stark turned around, and studied Peter. “You’re in dire need of a wardrobe upgrade. Systemic, top to bottom, 100 point restoration. I’ll have Happy call someone for this Sunday.”

Mr. Stark spun on his heel and left the kitchen, waving for Peter to follow him. “When did your interest in science start?”

“When I was younger, before my parents passed, they used to show me their blueprints and sketches. Part of their research was working on steam trains and railways. They used to dream about travelling from one side of the country to the hour in a matter of hours. I know it was purely theoretical, and we’re decades or even centuries off from it actually happening but the idea of travelling at that speed is fascinating!”

Mr. Stark stopped in front of a closed door. He placed a hand on the door knob and then turned to Peter. “It may not be as far away as you think.” said Mr. Stark with a smile, before opening the door.

“Woah…” Peter slowly entered the room, completely in awe. The walls were covered in blueprints, sketches and calculations. Peter recognized the sketches on the wall on the left from Mr. Stark’s book on Wave theory of light. The far wall had various sketches of an engine, from multiple angles. In the center was the steam train sketch that his parents had shown him.

Tony walked over to the far wall, and took one of the sketches off the wall. “Several years ago, I worked on his version of the steam train with your parents.” He handed Peter the sketch.

“This-this is the same one they showed me. How-” Peter traces his parents signatures on the bottom right.

“I only worked on one steam train project with your parents. They had their hearts set on this project. It was like they could already see it, the finished product functioning. Sadly they passed away before we could start any of the actual buildings. Somehow it felt wrong to build it without them.” Mr. Stark gazed at the sketches, with an emotion Peter couldn’t quite pin down. “So I improved their systems, made them more efficient and worked on other projects.”

“Like your book?”

“Yes. Among other things.” Tony turned to face Peter. “How do you feel about following in your parents’ footsteps? I think it’s about time Mary and Richard’s dreams start coming true.”

“I…” tears threatened to fall from Peter’s eyes.

“You don’t have to decide now.”

“No! I’d love to work on the steam engine. I just never imagined in my wildest dreams I would be able too.”

“Well, it is going to be a lot of work. You’re going to need some formal education in physics, chemistry and engineering.”

Peter nodded eagerly. “I can do it!”

Mr. Stark laughed. “Alright, Underoos. Let’s turn you into a proper student. You’re in dire need of supplies. Textbooks, chalkboards, and wardrobe upgrade. Systemic, top to bottom, 100 point restoration. I’ll arrange something with Happy. For now, let’s see where you’re at…”

Mr. Stark and Peter spent the rest of the day pouring over textbooks together in the workshop. Mr. Stark quizzed Peter on the topics he was familiar with until he had a good idea of where Peter was, academically. Then Mr. Stark started filling in the gaps and teaching him the new material that Peter had missed. Peter lost track of time. It had been far too long since Peter had a mentor, someone who had the same passion for physics and someone who he could bounce theories and questions off.

Before he knew it, the sun was approaching the horizon, and it was time for Peter to leave for his second job with Mr. Delmar. Tony stood at the door to his mansion, and waved Peter off with a nostalgic, yet content look on his face.

Peter beamed at him, practically bouncing on his toes. For a strange moment, Peter felt the urge to hug Mr. Stark, the way he would hug MJ or Ned, or even his parents before leaving them. Peter shook off the feeling. Mr. Stark was just his employer… right? Somehow, after the day they had, ‘employer’ didn’t quite fit. Peter gave Mr. Stark one last wave before getting into the carriage with Happy.

~ ~ ~

When Peter arrived back at the orphanage later that night, Ned was waiting for him near his bunk bed.

“Peter! How did it go? I can’t believe you actually got to work with the Mr. Stark! This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me!” exclaimed Ned. He was sitting at the corner of the bed next to Peter’s. His eyes were a little red and there was a faint glimmer of sweat on his forehead, but his eyes were focused. It was the best Peter had seen him in a few days.

“It was amazing Ned!” replied Peter with equal enthusiasm. He kicked off his shoes and stood on his bed, bouncing lightly. “He showed me his workshop - you won’t believe it. He has so many projects! He’s done so much more on the Wave Theory of Light! And remember that project that I told you that my parents were working on? The steam train idea? It turns out he was working on it with my parents!”

“Dude that is so amazing! I-”

Hearing the commotion, Director Harrington walked into the room. “Hey! Kids, it’s night time! Settle down. Peter, get off your bed and go wash up. Ned, you need to get some rest.”

“But Peter just got back -”

“I wanna talk to Ned -”

Director Harrington held up his hand, and they fell silent. “I know you’re excited to see each other and talk about Peter’s job. Believe me, I know. But the youngest kids are already asleep, and the rest are getting ready for bed.”

Peter looked around, and saw the younger kids already curled up under their blankets. Reluctantly they nodded, and Director Harrington left.

Peter got down from his bed, as Ned got up. They shared a warm hug, and Peter gently rested his head on the side of Ned’s. He could feel Ned’s heartbeat faintly, and something in him, a weight that had been following him around marginally relaxed. Ned was okay. Everything was going to be okay.

“I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow, okay? Mr. Stark’s really amazing.” Peter whispered to Ned as he pulled away.

“I can’t wait! Good night Peter.” Ned whispered back.

“Good night Ned.”

Ned walked back to his bunk, and Peter quietly grabbed his pajamas and tiptoed out of the room to clean up before sleep.

~ ~ ~

The rest of the week passed similarly. Peter wakes up before sunrise, quickly eats and does as many of his chores around the orphanage as he can before Happy arrives. Then, he goes to study with Mr. Stark and work on the steam train plans for the rest of the day. Just before supper, Peter goes to Mr. Delmar’s to help serve food and clean up. Afterward, he walks back to the orphanage in the night, manages to tell MJ and Ned a few quiet, exhausted yet ecstatic words about his time with Mr. Stark before Director Harrington sends them to bed. Every night, Peter falls asleep before his head hits the pillow.

~ ~ ~

On Sunday, Peter woke up at the crack of dawn. He quickly ate, did his morning chores, waved MJ off as usual (with the promise of telling her everything when he got back) and jumped into the carriage with Happy.

Unlike usual, when Peter reached the mansion, Mr. Stark was impatiently waiting at the door.

Peter jumped out of the carriage, excitement shining on his face. “Good morning Mr. Stark! I can’t wait to get started again!”

“Uh uh. Not in those clothes, you’re not. You got a pass these past few days, but today if you’re going to be a scholar, you need to look the part and have the right materials, Underoos.”

Peter stopped in his tracks. “Um…”

Without missing a beat, Mr. Stark draped an arm over Peter’s shoulders and directed him back into the carriage. “We’re going shopping.”

“Shopping?” echoed Peter, a little bewildered.

~ ~ ~

Half an hour later, Mr. Stark, Peter and Happy were standing in a tailor’s shop. The tailor took a few measurements, and then handed Peter a dress shirt and pants, before directing him to a room at the back of the shop “Go try these on. They should be a close fit.”

Peter looked at the clothes. It wasn’t the same quality suits that Mr. Stark normally wore, but it was far above Peter’s regular clothes.

“Mr. Stark I couldn’t-”

Mr. Stark shook his head. “Uh uh. If you think I’m going to tinker around with my inventions and current research in those, you are mistaken, Underoos. Now try them on, let’s see.”

Peter walked into the back room and gulped nervously. He could pay for half a month’s worth of medicine with the dress shirt alone. Peter carefully put the dress shirt and pants on. Just as the tailor predicted, the pants and shirt fit nearly perfectly.

Outside, Mr. Stark was arguing, or maybe bantering with Happy, but the moment the door opened they both fell silent.

Happy huffed, turned to Mr. Stark and said, “I told you, he could’ve been your twin.” Mr. Stark muttered something back to Happy, who then left.

Mr. Stark turned to Peter before nodding. “Much better.”

“Um, is this really okay?” Peter looked up at Tony hesitantly. “I mean…”

Mr. Stark waved the question away. “I told you yesterday, Underoos. 100 point restoration. We’ll make a scholar of you yet.” Mr. Stark turned to the tailor. “We’ll order 3 pairs of dress shirts and pants, in addition to these.”

“Three pairs?!” Peter’s incredulous tone echoed around the shop.

Mr. Stark turned around, heading after Happy. “Come on, kiddo. We have a couple more stops.”

Peter dutifully followed Mr. Stark out, into another shop.

~ ~ ~

By the end of the morning, Peter had gotten a pair of new clothes, a new pencil case, box of pencils, a box of chalk, a few slates and a school bag. They were about to leave, when a salesman stepped in front of Mr. Stark.

“Hello good sir! Might I interest you and your son in some fashionable hats?”

“S-son?” Peter squeaked, turning red. Distantly, he heard Mr. Stark chuckle in amusement.

The salesman picked a curved, pencil grey hat and placed it on Peter’s head. It fell down, covering his eyes.

“Hmm, perhaps something smaller.” In a flash, the salesman took the hat off Peter’s head, and grabbed a slightly smaller black hat with a ribbon around it.

Peter ducked out of the way before the salesman could put it on his head. “I-I really don’t think -” Stuttered Peter, clearly flustered by the misinterpretation.

Suddenly, Peter felt a hand on his back, nudging him forward. Peter’s head snapped to Mr. Stark. “My son and I think that’s a wonderful idea.” said Tony, grinning ear to ear.

Peter turned beet red.

“Let’s try the small black newport hat, at the back.” Suggested Mr. Stark.

“A wonderful choice sir!” The salesman handed the hat to Mr. Stark, who gently placed it on Peter’s head. The salesman held up a mirror for Peter to see.

Peter stared at himself. The newport hat complimented his dress shirt well. He looked… different, but in a good way. Smart, more sophisticated, perhaps. Peter stood up straighter, and turned his head to the side, almost mesmerized. A small bit of his curly brown hair poked out from under his hat. Peter tucked it back in, and looked at Mr. Stark. “I like it.”

Mr. Stark agreed. “It suits you.” He turned to the salesman. “We’ll get it.”

A few minutes later, Mr. Stark and Peter were walking back to the carriage where Happy was waiting with his new newport hat. Peter climbed into the carriage after Mr. Stark, took off his hat and stared at it contemplatively.

The carriage started moving. Mr. Stark nudged Peter gently with his elbow. “You’re kinda quiet, Underoos. Everything okay?”

Peter nodded.

“I hope I didn’t bother you with the ‘my son’ comment?” Mr. Stark said it jokingly, but Peter could tell it was a genuine question.

“No no, it’s - that was fine. It just surprised me.” Peter looked up at Mr. Stark and gave him a smile.

“So what’s up then? If the last day is anything to go by, normally you’d be chatting away.”

Peter shrugged. “It’s just a lot.” He held up the hat and his bag, full of school supplies. “This used to be my life, before my parents… Before the orphanage. It’s just bringing back memories, I guess.”

The carriage wheel went over a rock, and Mr. Stark grabbed Peter’s shoulder to steady him. For the longest moment, they were silent, before Mr. Stark spoke up. “I get it, you know? I lost my parents too. Granted, I was older and the situation was drastically different…” Mr. Stark cleared his throat. “My mom, she was a pianist. She had this way of playing, that was so graceful, so… warm. We were never good at communicating, except when we were playing on the piano. It was like the music would speak for us, in our special language.”

“After she passed, I couldn’t barely look at the piano. I boarded up the room, and nearly threw the key away. It wasn’t until about three years ago that Pepper, my uh, friend convinced me to open the room. I thought it was a bad idea. I thought all that hurt would come flooding back. And some of it did, but along with it…”

Peter nodded in understanding. “Yea. It’s like you got a small piece of them back.”

“Yea, something like that.”

The carriage came to a stop abruptly, ending the moment. Peter stuck his head out the side, and realized that they’re already back at the mansion. Mr. Stark and Peter climbed out and headed inside.

“How about some lunch?” suggested Mr. Stark. Peter agrees, and then turns red when his stomach growls audibly. Mr. Stark laughed not unkindly, ruffled Peter’s hair and then went to the kitchen. Peter followed him, still red, but smiling.

Mr. Stark and Peter resumed working in the workshop. It’s equally as studious as the day before, except there’s an air of familiarity that wasn’t there before. Just like yesterday, Peter’s attention was consumed by his excitement to learn, and he doesn’t notice the time fly by, until it’s approaching sunset. Mr. Stark asked Peter if he had to leave, but it’s Peter’s day off from Mr. Delmar, so he says no. Mr. Stark turns on a few oil lamps and they continue working into the night.

~ ~ ~

Eventually Mr. Stark straightens up and stretches. There’s a few quiet cracks, at which Peter snorted, before looking outside, noticing that it’s already dark and the stars are out.”

“I should probably get back soon.”

(Tony follows Peter’s line of sight until he’s looking outside at the night sky with Peter. Tony looks back at Peter. His face is peaceful, slightly sleepy, and in the dim lighting Tony can see part of the night sky reflected in Peter’s eyes. He feels a surge of protectiveness, and affection..? Tony shakes the feeling off, and an idea suddenly comes to him.)

Peter followed Mr. Stark upstairs, and watched curiously as he pulled a large cloth off… a telescope. “Woah… can I, Mr. Stark?”

Mr. Stark arranged the telescope, and fiddled with the knobs for a moment before stepping away and looking at Peter. “Go ahead, kid.”

Peter steps closer to the telescope and peered inside. “Woah…” Peter turned to Mr. Stark. “This is amazing Mr. Stark!” Peter peered back into the telescope, still in awe of the beautiful sight. He felt Mr. Stark lay his arm across Peter’s shoulders. The warmth of his arm was nice in the cold night.

(Peter stared up at him with complete awe and eagerness. That feeling from earlier comes back, ten fold. It tells him to protect Peter, to keep him safe, warm and happy. It compels Tony to step closer and lay his arm over Peter’s shoulders. He feels Peter lean slightly into the half side hug and -

oh.

Oh.

It’s love.

He loves Peter.

Tony loves Peter, as if he were his own son. The revelation rocks his world. When did this happen? Why now? What is he supposed to do?)

Unknown to Mr. Stark’s world shattering revelation, Peter shivered and sniffed in the cold air, before straightening up and fully leaning into Mr. Stark’s side. “‘ts cold.”

“Yea.” Mr. Stark exhaled. “Let’s get you home, Underoos.”

Peter nodded, and allowed Mr. Stark to lead him back inside and wrap one of his coats around Peter. He called for Happy, who came with the carriage. This time, before Peter gets in the carriage, Mr. Stark wraps him a hug, before entering the carriage with Peter. Sleepy and cold, Peter pulls Mr. Stark’s coat around himself tightly. The last thing he remembers was resting his head on Mr. Stark’s shoulder, the sensation of an arm wrapping around him keeping him warm and falling asleep.

~ ~ ~

When Peter woke up the next day, he felt awful. His head throbbed, this throat felt like sandpaper and he felt like he was freezing. Peter cracked an eye open, and painful bright light sears through his brain. Peter cries out in pain and shuts his eyes.

Hearing Peter, Director Harrington walked over. “Hey Peter, it’s time to get up.” When Peter didn’t move, Director Harrington frowned. (It was uncharacteristic of Peter not to be awake by now). He laid a hand over Peter’s head, and sweared under his breath when he felt Peter’s boiling forehead.

“What’s wrong with him?” MJ worriedly inquires from behind the Director. He quickly turned around and saw her and Ned.

“He’s sick. I think it’s just because he’s been pushing himself so hard this past week. Honestly, I was expecting this to happen days ago.” Director Harrington stood up. “He’ll be alright. He just needs rest. I’ll send a message to Mr. Stark telling him Peter won’t be able to attend for a few days.”

MJ nods. She knows what she has to do.

~ ~ ~

After MJ’s shift finished, she made her way to Mr. Stark’s mansion. Steeling her nerves, she firmly knocked on the door and waited. One minute, two minutes… just when MJ thought was wouldn’t get an answer, Mr. Stark opened the door.

He frowned. “Do I know you?”

“I’m here about Peter.”

“Come in.” Mr. Stark stepped out of the way, welcoming MJ inside. “Is he okay?”

MJ looked around the mansion. Part of her admires it; everything looked so elegant. Part of her critiqued it, wondering how it was built, and how the Stark family inherited their fortune.

“Peter’s sick. He’s been overworking himself, with everything he needs to do at the orphanage, with you and Mr. Delmar.” MJ explains. “He’s been going to sleep really late, and forcing himself to wake up before sunrise, and he’s on his feet pretty much the entire day.”

In a single moment, it looked as if Mr. Stark aged years. The wrinkles in his face stood out, and he looked worried. Extremely worried. MJ knew that Peter was attached to Mr. Stark (what science nerd wouldn’t be), but she didn’t expect that Mr. Stark would reciprocate the sentiment equally.

Mr. Stark took a moment, but eventually he composed himself. “Thank you for telling me. Are you headed back to the orphanage?”

“Yea.”

“I’ll give you a ride back.” Mr. Stark left to call Happy, completely missing MJ’s surprised expression.

Mr. Stark comes back a few minutes later, with his coat. “I’ll head back with you. It seems like I need to have a few words with Peter, about responsibility.”

MJ would’ve been worried, if Mr. Stark hadn’t sounded so… parental. Not for the first time, MJ wondered what exactly had they done, for Peter and Mr. Stark to feel so strongly for the other in such a short time. Instead, she just nodded.

“Why is he overworking himself?”

MJ’s mouth went dry, and she looked away at her feet. So Peter hadn’t told Mr. Stark then. “Our friend, Ned - he’s sick. Like really sick.” She quickly glanced at Mr. Stark. He looked contemplative. “Director Harrington is doing what he can, but the doctor visits and the medicine - it’s really expensive. Peter and I are paying for most of it.”

Although Mr. Stark didn’t say anything, MJ can practically hear him understanding. Peter always puts the needs of his loved ones above himself, and they both know it.

Happy arrived with the carriage in front. They climbed in and headed for the orphanage.

~ ~ ~

Peter’s awareness came back, and he felt the bed sink down on his left. At the edge of unconsciousness and in pain, Peter whimpers unintelligibly and tries to stick his head under the blanket.

Suddenly, there was a hand softly brushing through his hair and rubbing at his scalp. His headache began to ease up for the first time, and Peter cracked his eyes open. There was a blurry figure that looked awfully familiar sitting on his bed.

“Hey Underoos. How are you feeling?” Mr. Stark asked softly.

Peter closed his eyes, and tilted his head towards Mr. Stark’s hand, silently asking for him to continue.

Above him, Peter heard Mr. Stark chuckled. “Peter, it’s dinner time. You need to eat.”

With a groan Peter opened his eyes again, this time fully. It takes a moment, but his vision focuses. Mr. Stark helped Peter sit up, and then held out a bowl of soup with a spoon. Peter held his palms flat against the bowl, and let the steam rise against his face, trying to absorb the heat.

“Kiddo, you’re supposed to eat it.”

Peter grumbled, but picked up the spoon and began slowly eating.

Mr. Stark waited for Peter to finish half of his soup before speaking up, his tone gentle. “Peter, you were seriously overworking yourself.”

Peter swallowed his soup, and then responded, “Ned needs the money. He’s-”

“- sick, I know. MJ told me.” The surprise must’ve shown on his face because Mr. Stark elaborated. “She came to see me earlier today, to tell me that you were working yourself sick trying to pay for Ned’s medicine.”

Peter opened his mouth to defend his actions, but Mr. Stark interrupted him. “Underoos, why didn’t you tell me?” He chided, gently. “I would’ve helped you.”

“I - really?” Peter looked at Mr. Stark in hope.

Tony nodded. “Anything, Peter.”

Peter put the soup aside, leaned over and hugged Mr. Stark tightly. “Thank you so much, Mr. Stark. You have no idea - it means so much to me.”

“Anything, Peter. Although you have to concentrate on getting better, and taking care of yourself. I don’t want to hear that you’re sick and refined to bed for days, geez. I nearly got a heart attack when I received the message this morning.”

Peter laughs weakly. Mr. Stark handed him back the soup, and sat with Peter as he finished it. When Peter’s done, Mr. Stark takes the bowl, and helps Peter crawl back under the covers. Peter rolled onto his side, facing Mr. Stark, and silently asking.

Above him, Peter heard Mr. Stark huff, in amusement. A moment later he felt Mr. Stark’s hand softly brushes through his hair and rubs at his scalp. Peter falls asleep to the sensation.

(When he’s sure Peter’s asleep, Tony leans over Peter, presses a kiss to his forehead and whispers “I love you.”)

The End.

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spicyfloaty · 3 years

Text

Give & Take | Chapter 6

pairing: kacchako

genre: slowburn/fluff

words: 3.2k

summary: Ochako's grades are slipping. Bakugo is dangerously nearing suspension, or worse, expulsion. A certain twist of fate pairs them together for tutoring sessions. He teaches her math. She keeps him from getting suspended. A simple exchange, but what if this only brings them closer than necessary?

header credits: @alexbenedetto

[READ ON AO3]

Chapter Five

Chapter Six: Bakugo Drools In His Sleep

Bakugo manages to show up for the next couple of sessions, all of them, thankfully. Ochako’s almost used to the routine of bickering with him for at least ten minutes before their actual sessions start, then to be followed by more bickering in between topics. As much as it was tempting to shove an entire pencil case down his throat whenever they would argue over the littlest of things Bakugo would deem worthy of being remotely upset about, such as times when she would forget to round up a decimal or factor a term, she can’t deny the fact that she was still learning nonetheless.

Ochako had also grown accustomed to the close proximity they would consistently share, it didn’t look like Bakugo had any intention of finding another desk to use, let alone another pen. They were all so familiar to her now, though she must admit that there were still moments when she would need to exert a considerable amount of effort to force all thoughts pertaining to how close he was to the most hidden and secluded areas of her brain. Something she still has yet to get used to was Bakugo never failing to immediately take off the second her alarm goes off.

She had never needed to use his number during the last weeks and Bakugo had never needed to use hers. She’d know this since she has been checking her phone out of habit now just in case he does. It’s not like she wanted him to text her or something like that, she just didn’t want to miss anything important that could come up at any moment.

“You’re gonna end up spraining your wrist if you keep checking your phone every five seconds.” Kit points out, leaning against the counter. They were in the middle of a self-proclaimed break since there weren’t any new customers coming in the cafe during this time of the evening, this only gave Ochako more time to habitually check her phone for new text messages.

“Waiting for a text from your boyfriend?” Her coworker grins at her as if he’s caught her hand inside the cookie jar.

She swiftly sets her phone face down the counter, she might have to check it for cracks later, “No! I mean--He’s not my boyfriend.” She sputters out, blushing from behind the counter.

Kit’s grin only grows a mile wider, “So there’s a he?” He presses. Ochako feels cornered against a wall, her face must have been giving all the stoplights in Japan a run for their money and it does not help her intentions of trying to convince Kit that this he wasn’t someone of importance.

“Well yeah,” She begins, but Kit’s eyebrows skyrocket through the roof, “but it’s not what you’re thinking!” She quickly adds.

Kit pushes himself off the counter and turns to face her with the full force of his skepticism, “Right.” he glances down at her phone, “So is there a reason why you’re waiting for this he to shoot you a text?”

Ochako only gives him the same answer that she gives herself whenever she asks the same thing, “I just...don’t want to miss anything important, that’s all.”

“I don’t know, ‘Chako,” he points at her face, “from the looks of it, you are missing something,” he smiles, “or someone.”

She shoots him a glare that fully conveyed the two words she had locked and loaded inside this look, Shut Up. Math wasn’t the only thing she had been learning from Bakugo and if she does it just right, she’d also be able to replicate the bone-chilling scowl that he pairs with it to complete the expression.

Kit holds both hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay, I’ll drop it, geez.” he concedes, “Since when did you give death glares?”

Since Bakugo Katsuki, that’s when, is what she would have said if she had wanted to continue this interrogation from her coworker, “I don’t know, I just naturally got better at it for some reason.” she observes, “How was it?”

“Terrifying.” Kit echoes out as he makes his way to the doors upon spotting a group of people beginning to approach the cafe, “Ready, ‘Chako?”

Ochako straightens herself up, promptly adjusting her cap while giving her phone one last glance, “Ready when you are, Kit.”

Kit cheerfully greets the group of newcomers, two girls from the lot giggle after he gleefully escorts them to their tables. Ochako discreetly chuckles at this, her coworker was conventionally attractive, yes, but she can’t help but think of him only as an older brother. Her crushing on Bakugo would be a more plausible scenario than her crushing on her coworker. She physically pauses from handing a customer their change the moment she realizes that she could have worded that comparison better, forcefully shoving the thought behind her head

Her shifts during the weekdays had always been the tougher ones since she had school immediately before. She had always been arriving to work late, bustling through the evening commute just to avoid passing the thirty minute grace period her boss had given her, but thanks to Aizawa’s schedule, she was being dismissed from class two hours early to give her more leeway time for her job and less of a workout/marathon whenever she rushed to the neighboring town.

Ochako was cleaning the countertop when she hears someone clear their throat, she looks up to see a woman smiling at her, “Hi,” she begins in a honeyed voice, “I was just wondering when I’ll be seated, I’ve been standing here for forever now.”

Her tight-lipped smile makes her stomach drop to her feet, she glances towards Kit’s direction and notices that he was busy serving two tables near the back. Her eyes flicker to the other tables and seeing as to how all those tables were occupied, she gulps.

“I’m sorry about that, ma’am.” Ochako says gently, “There aren’t any available seats yet, but I’m sure there’ll be one soon.” she gestures towards the exit, “You can sit at the waiting area outside in the meantime.” She offers her a sweet, apologetic smile, but the woman’s smile quickly twists into a frown.

“I’ve done enough waiting as it is and you’re gonna send me back out there to do that again?” She sneers.

Ochako had dealt with customers like these before but it doesn’t make it any easier whenever she gets lucky and encounters one again, “I’m really sorry, ma’am, but we had already reached our full capacity,” she tries to explain, “Would you like your order to go so you won’t have to wait any longer?” Her effort to make the situation better was ignored, the woman’s scowl deepens into a grimace.

“This is ridiculous! I want to be seated at a damn table!” She raises her voice just enough so that a few people seated at the front tables curiously look their way, “I’m not asking you to do the impossible here, young lady.”

You kind of are, she thinks to herself. Ochako can’t just make random seated patrons disappear into thin air just like that, she can’t exactly just make some of them go away either just to satisfy the impatient customer in front of her. She quickly scans the cafe once more, praying for a table to miraculously become available.

“Hello?” A hand snaps in front of her face, “Are you deaf? Or just dumb?”The woman icily asks.

Ochako would have snapped right then and there after that comment, but another thing she’s learned from her tutoring sessions with Bakugo was to know when to respond to a rude remark and when to just ignore it and keep a level head. She observes the lady one more time, noticing the business attire she had on. Maybe she’s just having a rough day at work, she assumes. The woman might also be tired and hungry, which would explain why she was having this kind of reaction over a mild inconvenience.

“There’s really nothing I can do about the seats, ma’am,” she begins, “but I can offer you a complimentary snack on the house while you wait for one?”

Ochako knew that the cafe doesn’t do complimentary snacks so this would come out of her own pocket if the lady were to accept her offer, but she brushes off the concern. She felt like it was the right thing to do.

The woman rolls her eyes, “Oh, save it for someone who cares, I’m gonna have to call your manag--”

“Sorry for the wait, ma’am, right this way to your table.” Kit arrives with semi-perfect timing, flashing the woman one of his million dollar smiles. She visibly blushes at the sight of him, but she is quick to compose herself as she follows him to the newly vacant table. Kit looks back at her and mouths Sorry about that, but she shakes her head and mouths a Thank you back at him.

A few busy hours go by and it was already the end of their shifts. Ochako let out a strained yawn as she stretched her arms behind her head, another day at work had left her bone tired as usual, but today had just sucked the soul out of her. She changes into her casual clothes, but leaves the top of her uniform on since she forgot to bring an extra shirt today.

“I’ll walk you to the station?” Kit offers as she exits the break room.

“Oh! You don’t have to.” She immediately declines, “I’ll be fine on my own.” It was pretty late at night so she understands that Kit just wanted to make sure she got home safely.

“Alright.” he smiles, “See you next week, ‘Chako”

She bids him goodbye as she made her way outside, the hum of jazz music inside the cafe now replaced with the myriad of bustling pedestrians and the chorus of cars huddled in traffic. Her legs were heavy, but they still managed to carry her all the way to the station. She would have slept through the entire train ride and missed her stop if it weren’t for the sweet old lady that tapped her on the shoulder to wake her up.

Ochako finally arrives at the dorms, her thoughts drifting to the soft embrace of her bed. She hobbles her way to the common room, but what she sees stops her dead on her tracks.

Bakugo’s sleeping figure is slumped over the table just in front of the couches, his back steadily rising and falling to the rhythm of his breathing. It was already past ten when she had returned, why wasn’t Bakugo sleeping in his room?

She approaches the couches with the intention of waking him up but she notices the open notebook beside his head, slightly covered by the explosive, blonde mess of his hair. She takes a closer look and the word Round Face catches her eye. Curiosity takes over and she takes a seat beside him, peering at the mysterious pages covered in Bakugo’s handwriting.

Her heart begins to race, eyes slowly widening at the realization that dawns on her as she reads its contents. They were notes. Notes on the things they went over during each session and the points she had gotten wrong. He had also taken note of the concepts she was having a hard time on, a list of sample questions and problems that he had most likely thought of by himself was scrawled beside them, some of them he had crossed over in thick, harsh lines.

She looked over to Bakugo in disbelief, he was still very much asleep. The warmth in her belly spreads to her chest and curves the corners of her mouth into a small smile, Oh, Bakugo. Ochako brings her attention back to the notebook and was about to flip to the next page when a hand grabs her wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Bakugo hisses. She quickly turns to face him, his eyes were hazed by the sleep he was still coming out of, but his glare, even with only half of its power, still held the same flaming intensity.

“I was uh,” she struggles to explain herself. She spots a trail of drool on his cheek and in a moment of pure, utter stupidity she continues, “You have, um, something on your…” She points to his cheek.

His eyebrows knit together, using his free hand to touch his face. He must have felt it because he instantly lets go of her as though he had touched the surface of a burning kettle, briskly wiping his cheek with his sleeve, red tinting the tips of his ears.

He was probably in the middle of an insult when his gaze dropped to her shirt, “What’s that?” He asks pointedly. Ochako follows his line of sight, her eyes landing on the name tag still very much attached to her shirt. Crap, I forgot to take that off.

“Oh, this thing!” She blurts, hastily taking the pin off, “Gunhead started making us wear these now.” She laughs nervously, Bakugo still staring daggers into her soul. Before the silence gets too stretched out or before Bakugo could pick up where he left off with that insult, she tries to change the topic, “How about you, Bakugo? Have you been interning somewhere too?”

She hears the tiredness in her voice, her body was weighing heavier by the minute. Bakugo’s eyes dart away, “It’s none of your business.” He bites back.

Ochako internally sighs. She didn’t have the energy to fire something back at him and her patience tank had sadly already ran out of steam just from her shift at work today, “You know,” she starts, bringing both of her hands to her lap, “I was just trying to make conversation, but if you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine.” She breathed out as she stood up from beside him.

Her quirk was no match for the gravity pulling her to the ground as the weight of the day grew heavier with every step she made her way towards the staircase.

“Jeanist.” A low, gruff voice says.

She pauses, turning around to face Bakugo. His eyes were focused on the walls, but she gives him an expectant look when they briefly meet hers.

“I worked with him for a while,” He continues, still refusing to look at her directly, “but he’s not taking any interns right now.”

“I see.” She replied. Ochako’s mind goes blank on what to say next.

“How did you end up in an agency like Gunhead’s ?” He suddenly asks, breaking the silence that she had failed to fill. She almost takes offense to this question, was he thinking that someone like Ochako would be too frail or girly to be associated with an agency like Gunhead’s.

Before she could give him a piece of her mind, he adds, “He’s not even in the top 10, you could do better than that.”

Ah, only Bakugo would consider hero rankings when choosing an agency to intern for.

Ochako walks a few steps closer to where he was still sitting, “You.”

A look of confusion instantly twists his face, “Huh?”

“I chose his agency because of you.” She repeats more clearly.

One of his eyebrows shoot upwards, “What the fuck did I do?” He asks as if she had just accused him of stealing the last of her savings.

She had forgotten that she had to be more specific when talking to Bakugo in particular, “Do you remember our fight last year during the sport’s festival?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t need any more words than that to prove it because the way his expression hardens, jaw tightening at the mention of the memory, already told her that he was telling the truth. He stares her down the same way he did in that arena, carefully studying her in anticipation of what she’ll do next.

“After that match,” she continued, “I realized the number of possibilities that could open up for me if I got stronger.” Ochako looks up at him with complete sincerity, “You helped me realize that.”

Bakugo’s gaze linger on hers for a few moments before grinning, “Guess you’re not as much of a dumbass as I thought, round face.”

She smiled at this, only he could make a compliment sound anything like an insult. Despite this, Ochako knew that this comment from Bakugo was worth more than most compliments combined.

“Even with all that training, I still did pretty bad at this year’s festival.” She jokes, looking back at the events that took place months ago. Compared to her first tournament, she had successfully made it past the first round, but only to be defeated minutes after the second one commenced.

“No you didn't.” Bakugo says flatly, his eyebrows could knit scarves with that puzzled look on his face.

Ochako challenges his confused expression with one of her own, “How would you know?”

“Because I watched you.”

This catches her off-guard for two reasons. One being the fact that for Bakugo, whatever he saw during that match was enough proof for him to say that she did well. The second reason being that she didn’t expect Bakugo to care about other people's matches unless he thought that the people fighting were people he found interesting enough to stay for.

“Too bad I didn’t get to beat your ass again.” He teases, crossing his legs as he leaned back into the couch.

Ochako’s hands prop on her hips, “Who says you beat my ass the first time around?” She fires back.

Bakugo scoffs, “Tell that to the medal, round face.”

“The one you refused to accept?” She grins, pleased with herself.

“Tch, whatever. I won that fucking match and your cocky ass knows it.” He barks.

It does, Ochako thinks to herself, “I almost got you though.” She points out. Sure, Bakugo won that fight, but he’s got to admit that her plan had almost won her that match. Not that she expected him to, though.

To her surprise, he mutters, “Yeah.”

Before she could stop herself from blurting out the next idea that popped inside her delusional, tired, brain, she spits it out, “How about a rematch, then?” She hoped that he wouldn’t take it seriously, but she knew better than to think that Bakugo won’t take anything seriously.

His chin tilts upwards, a calculating look masking his face, “You’re on.”

“But,” he lifts himself from the couch, taking a few steps until he was right in front of her, “You have to ace that exam first before I can even consider giving you that rematch.” Ochako remembers the upcoming exam they had for Ectoplasm’s class scheduled weeks from now, it was going to be focusing on the concepts she found the hardest to understand, but deep down she was confident that she’ll be fine once the time comes.

Bakugo walks past her, the sudden electricity from their arms brushing each other almost jolts her awake, “So you better not fail, dumbass.”

“How can I?” She calls out, “The great Bakugo Katsuki is tutoring me.”

“Tch, shut up.” He bites. He was already a few feet away from her, a few steps onto the staircase, when she hears the faint sound of his voice mutter, “Night, round face.”

Ochako smiles, somehow thinking that maybe today wasn’t so bad after all, “Good night, Bakugo.”

#kacchako #kacchako fic #kacchako fanfiction #kacchako fluff #kacchako slowburn #kacchako week #kacchako week 2020 #ao3 kacchako #ao3 #bakuraka #bakuraka week #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo x uraraka #urakara ochako #mha ochako #bnha #bnha fanfiction #mha

4 notes · View notes

wisteriamoons · 4 years

Text

Pinky Promise

So I see a lot of au’s where Kotoha lives, but stays with Douma and never sees the carnage he causes.

So, this oneshot kinda explores what would happen if Kotoha escaped unscathed that night. If she had stayed on the road, running till daybreak. Unknowingly missing the human village, instead running even further to a specific house.

What if, Kotoha Hashibira, became a Demon Slayer?

Words: 1821

Through all the abuse and manipulation, from the deepest parts of her memory, she knows she’ll never forget one thing. What had occurred on April 22nd.

The delivery lasted hours, but through the pain and tears, she won’t remember it as a bad thing.

No, not even close.

She’ll remember it as the day it changed her.

At a mere seventeen banking on eighteen girl, she had married young, desperate for a family. Her family had been killed by what the locals thought was a bear, and Kotoha Hashibira found herself all alone.

She made one error, unfortunately, and that was marrying too quickly. Too fast. The man seemed so perfect and loving, and while his mother was stern and icy, he seemed wonderful.

That quickly changed, however.

She found it hopeless to escape, not finding a way to run. But nine months into the marriage, she gave birth. She cried tears of joy, finding her son to have little to no attributes from his father.

“Inosuke,” she whispered. “My little Inosuke.”

He gave her a reason to keep going, to stay hopeful and face the horrors of the day with a brave face.

And then she remembers the night she did escape.

With only the clothes on her back, she had managed to wrap Inosuke’s favorite blanket around him. The night was treacherous, winter just settling in and snow caking the ground like powder. But no matter how cold it got, no matter how tired she was, she kept running with her one-month-old son in her arms.

She remembered hearing about a paradise, a place where you could escape to when you had nowhere else.

That was her other error.

Douma was a wonderful host. She saw the magic he performed personally, as he healed her from her partial blindness, her scars, everything she had accumulated. He called her beautiful. He treated her like a goddess.

She stayed.

She didn’t realize how much of a trophy Douma saw her as. And as she sang, took care of her son, sat side-by-side with Douma, made people happy. She didn’t know the real horrors of the cult she had found herself in. She only had unconfirmed suspicions filtered out by her own bias. People were disappearing, but Douma said they left for brighter pastures. Why would she have any reason to not believe him, when he took her and her son in from the cold?

The suspicions grew, no matter how much she thought otherwise. The feeling in her gut made her feel more uneasy as the days wore on.

The stench was pungent, nauseating, revolting.

She had awoken, taking Inosuke in her arms to look for the source. Perhaps someone hunted? Yes, yes, that had to be the--

“Oh, Kotoha, you weren’t supposed to see this,” Douma said smoothly, wiping the blood from his lips. Kotoha stood, heart palpitating, hyperventilation threatening to begin. On the ground was an acquaintance, the friendly Aki, dead in a puddle of her own blood.

“You…” Kotoha breathes in, stomach churning. “You monster!”

“Kotoha, listen to me, my b--”

“I will have none of it! You spouted nothing but horrible lies! You planned to eat me! You planned to eat Inosuke! Fiend! You awful, awful man!”

Kotoha didn’t listen to what Douma had to say next. She ran once more, with only the clothes on her back.

She had fallen for another man’s tricks again. Not only putting herself in danger, but Inosuke, too. Tears threatened to build.

“I’m so sorry, Inosuke. I’m sorry mommy’s stupid! I always make mistakes, I always go the wrong way! Sorry, I’m so sorry… I’m your mother, I need to keep it together.”

Inosuke just babbled, only knowing his mother was upset, but not of the danger that followed behind. She ran and ran until day broke just behind the trees. She hadn’t realized she lost Douma hours ago.

“Please, pleasepleaseplease, I can’t lose my son,” Kotoha cries to herself, holding him closer to her chest. “I can’t die!”

The first house she saw she practically flung herself at it, banging at the gate with a terrified fist.

“Please! Please, oh please let us in! Please! We’re being chased by a cannibal!” Kotoha wails, slamming her fist faster. “Please, open up!”

It was met with succession.

An old woman opened the gate, and Kotoha ran inside, the woman closing the gate behind her. The old woman had long graying hair, soft blue eyes and a purple kimono.

“A cannibal?” the old woman questions as Kotoha dashes up the steps of the Japanese house.

“Ye-yes, I just saw him eat another with my own eyes, oh goodness please let us stay at least the night.”

The old woman took pity on her, and let her inside.

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but that wasn’t a cannibal. You probably saw the workings of a demon.”

“A… a what?” Kotoha asks, panting as the adrenaline wears off. The woman guides her over into the kitchen, having her sit at the kotatsu. Kotoha refuses to put Inosuke down, so she keeps him close to her. The woman starts brewing some tea, placing the kettle over the fire.

“A demon. You don’t know where you are, child?”

Kotoha shakes her head slowly. Inosuke snoozes in her arms.

“You’re in a Wisteria House. The crest you saw out front marks this place as a sanctuary for demon hunters, from the Demon Slayer Corps. I usually only provide to demon hunters, but considering you were being chased by a demon, I hold no problem taking you in for a while.”

Kotoha feels tears build up in her eyes, and she bows her head.

“Thank you so much. But, what is a demon?”

“A demon is someone that has been infected by a demon’s blood and turned into a blood-thirsty monster. They’re usually unintelligent, only looking for, well…”

Kotoha nods, sniffling.

“This demon wasn’t unintelligent though.”

The old woman frowns.

“Oh my… I’m glad I let you in.”

The old woman doesn’t elaborate, which Kotoha is quite thankful for. All she wanted to focus on was Inosuke.

“If you only provide for free for demon hunters, then I’m willing to work here,” Kotoha speaks quietly.

“Are you sure? It’s a lot of hard work, plus you have a babe.”

“I don’t want to be a burden. Inosuke is very well-behaved for a one month old, he’s so sweet to me.” Kotoha beams down at her son, kissing his forehead. The woman hums.

“Well, I’m Himari. What is your name, child?”

“Kotoha. Thank you again for taking us in.” Kotoha bows her head once more, which Himari replicates.

For the next few weeks, Himari helped Kotoha settle in along with Inosuke. Kotoha had been right about one thing; Inosuke was surprisingly well-behaved for a baby. He slept through the night, never made a real fuss even when he was hungry or his diaper needed changing. He seemed to really love silk and velvet, the birds chirping in the morning, books, a boar plush his mother made, and hearing his mother sing their special song.

“Pinky promise, pinky promise, such small hands you have~”

It warms Himari’s heart, hearing her sing it when it was bedtime for Inosuke. The lyrics changed almost every night, but every word was meaningful.

Kotoha learned more of the Wisteria Houses, and Himari herself. Himari was going to turn sixty-three soon, but had the energy of a twenty-year-old. All her immediate family lived far away, but her extended family was large. So large, Wisteria Houses basically spanned the whole country. It was fascinating.

About a month into Kotoha’s stay, a group of demon slayers led by the Flame Pillar came to stay at the Wisteria House.

“Mr. Rengoku, may I ask you something?” Kotoha asks before bed. Shinjuro Rengoku gives the woman a curious look as he wipes his blade down with a cloth. “I’m curious as to what demon slaying is like, can you tell me about it?”

Shinjuro was surprised that she wanted to know in the first place. After all, she looked like a gentle nadeshiko; she even reminded him of his wife. But he answered her question anyway; if she wanted to know, he wasn’t going to discriminate against her for it.

“It’s hard, you may have to leave home for months at a time, and there’s a large possibility you can die.”

“Then why did you join, Mr. Rengoku?”

Shinjuro pauses.

“My family goes generations back for Flame Breathing, but I also found it’d be worth it to save people and keep them from the dark.”

Kotoha listens intently, her usual kind face into more of an unreadable expression.

Shinjuro wouldn’t find out until years later why she asked. Himari found out immediately, after the group went to sleep.

“Himari, I want to learn how to be a demon slayer.”

The old woman nearly drops her pot of water, looking at Kotoha incredulously.

“Koto-- why?”

Kotoha glares at the wood of the kotatsu.

“I’m sick and tired of being a defenseless woman who doesn’t know what she’s doing. I want to be able to protect my son and make a world where he doesn’t have to be scared to go out at night. I want to be stronger, I want to help people.”

Himari looks at Kotoha, her incredulous look fading.

“Are you sure, Kotoha? Demons are dangerous, I’ve especially heard the Final Selection is ruthless; you’re either alive or you’re dead when you come out.”

Kotoha gazes at the bassinet which holds a sleeping Inosuke.

“I’ll take my time. And I know it’ll be hard, much harder than anything I’ve faced. But it’ll be worth it.”

Himari stares silently at Kotoha, and then gives a weak smile.

“I know someone who can teach you, then. I’m willing to also help take care of Inosuke, too.”

Kotoha looks at Himari, smiling as tears stream down her eyes.

“Thank you, Himari. Thank you so much.”

This is where it all began.

Kotoha stands outside of the Wisteria House, looking much different, more older. She now had the Demon Slayer Corps uniform on, a long blue haori with light yellow bell patterns decorating it. Every step she took, the actual bells sewn into a red bracelet on her left wrist tinkled softly. She opens the gate, a smile on her face. She’d be getting her Nichirin blade soon.

“Mama!” Inosuke cries. She had been gone for only a week, but for five year old Inosuke, it felt like forever. The small boy runs over to her, and she crouches as she hugs him close, stroking his hair.

Himari watches from the porch, smiling proudly at the mother and son.

“I told you I’d be back, my little dragonfly,” Kotoha laughs, kissing his forehead. “I pinky promised it, after all.”

This is where it all began.

For the Bell Pillar, Kotoha Hashibira.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kotoha hashibira #inosuke hashibira #kotoha lives au #kny kotoha #kny inosuke #also i refuse to believe kotoha kept her husbands last name #so her last name is hashibira #kny spoilers #calling this the pinky promise au so #pinky promise au #kitty writes

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ladyfogg · 4 years

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May I? - 4/?

Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she’s truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Data/Female OC

Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut

Faith had spent the last forty-eight hours in her quarters. Her conversation with Data had put her at ease and gave her the chance to actually get rest. She slept some, ate a little, and avoided Dr. Crusher. The doctor had reached out for a follow-up but Faith didn't respond. Her headache had subsided to a dull throb and no other symptoms emerged, so she wasn't too worried about it.

She had just laid down for another nap when her door buzzed. It took her a moment to process that someone was actually there to see her. Pushing her crazy hair into a bun, she sat up and tried to make herself look presentable.

"Come in."

The door opened and Counselor Troi cautiously stepped in. She looked around until she spotted Faith in the bedroom. "Hi, Faith. I'm sorry, did I wake you? Is now a good time?"

There was a small feeling of disappointment within, which surprised Faith. It was almost as if she had expected it to be someone else.

"Oh, no I was just resting." She swung her legs over the side of the bed, suddenly acutely aware of how grungy she felt and probably looked. "Is there something I can do for you, Counselor?"

"Dr. Crusher said you may want to talk," Deanna said. "You haven't answered her messages so she asked me to stop by."

Damn it, Dr. Crusher!

The woman was too kind and smart for her own good. Faith was more than a little annoyed. She had seen a counselor when she was a teenager and it had not gone well. But she had no quarrel with Deanna personally. In fact, she overheard nothing but good things about her. However, that did little to change her mind on the subject.

"Please, have a seat," Faith said, remembering her manners.

Deanna smiled and took a seat on the couch while Faith forced herself out of bed to join her. The Betazoid looked around and Faith knew she was taking note of the lack of personal belongings and decoration. Not to mention the clothes strewn across the floor and dishes left in various locations.

"I'm sorry about the mess. Had I known I was having company I would have tidied up a little."

Waving a dismissive hand, Deanna's smile remained. "No judgments from me. My own quarters have been in much worse shape on many occasions."

I seriously doubt that. She could not imagine the cheque and put-together counselor being messy in any capacity.

"I assume you know why I'm here," Deanna said.

"And I assume you know how I feel about it."

Deanna chuckled in amusement. "Yes, Dr. Crusher mentioned you may not be so happy about my appearance. So why don't we talk about it?"

Faith sighed heavily, pulling her knees up to her chest. "I can't believe Dr. Crusher sent you to check up on me," she mumbled, more to herself than Deanna.

"She's worried about you. I am too."

"Only because it's your job."

Deanna smiled kindly. "That is not the only reason. I do this job because I care. But I don't want you to feel pressured. If you'd rather not talk, we don't have to. But I hope you consider."

Faith took a deep breath. "I'm not good at it."

"Talking?"

"Talking about myself. There's really nothing very interesting about me."

"Now I find that very hard to believe."

"Everyone says that. They're always proven wrong."

"I see. How so?"

Deanna's eyes softened and the concern in them was enough to make Faith look away. She hated people being concerned about her. There were already so many things that made her anxious, the thought that she caused someone distress or concern for her health only made her feel worse.

"I told Dr. Crusher I didn't want to see you," she said, avoiding Troi's question.

"I know. It's why I'm here," Deanna said. "Sometimes when we don't want to talk about our feelings is when we need to the most."

Faith remained silent. Deanna waited patiently, but when she didn't say anything, the counselor continued. "Would it help if I told you a little bit about myself first?"

"You can if you like."

"Alright then," Deanna said. "Let's see. I'm half Betazoid, half-human. I've been doing this job for quite a while. And I love chocolate. Your turn."

Faith snorted. "I feel like I'm the new kid in class again and the teacher is making me introduce myself."

"Did you move around a lot when you were a child?"

"Nice try."

Deanna grinned. "I had to at least make an attempt."

Faith considered the situation and how she felt about Deanna's presence. There was something comforting about her, yet Faith was not remotely ready to start sharing her life story. "I appreciate the effort. But...I'm just not ready. Not now. I-I don't think I can share..."

"Then we don't have to," Deanna stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. "How about we get out of here and go for a walk instead? Get something to eat."

Faith looked down at her sweaty pajamas and back up at Deanna. "Er...I'm not exactly ready to be seen by human eyes." She paused. "Full-human eyes."

Deanna laughed. "Fine. You freshen up and we'll go to Ten Forward. Does that sound good?"

Faith hadn't been to Ten Forward yet. She knew it was where most people went to unwind and had avoided it due to her aversion to crowds. She also didn't like the thought of going by herself. The idea of her sitting alone at the bar was too sad, even for her. However, going with someone probably wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

"Okay, I think I can do that," she said, placing her feet on the floor. "Excuse me for a moment."

Deanna motioned for Faith to go ahead. "I'll wait."

After a hot shower and changing into fresh clothes, Faith came back into the living room to find Deanna had gathered the dishes for her and put them back in the replicator to be disposed.

"Oh, you didn't have to do that," Faith said, embarrassed. She removed her hair from the wet towel and began to hastily run a comb through it. Normally she didn't bother but she figured if she was going to be seen by people, she might as well make the effort.

"It was no trouble," Deanna insisted. "Every little bit helps. Speaking of…" She watched Faith wince as she caught a tangle. "Would you like some with your hair?"

"Oh. Um. Sure."

Faith sat while Deanna gently worked the knots out of her long brown hair. It was strange at first, yet oddly soothing.

"You have beautiful hair," Deanna commented. "The natural waves are lovely. Mine is so curly it drives me crazy at times."

"Thanks." Faith frowned. "You're not exactly what I expected."

"Oh really? How so?"

"Well, I doubt most counselors offer to take you to dinner, clean your dishes, then help you with your hair."

Deanna laughed. "Don't think of me as your counselor then. Think of me as your friend. After all, you haven't agreed to talk with me yet so technically you're not a client."

Faith chuckled herself. "Playing the long con, aren't you?"

"I have no idea what you mean," Deanna said in a far too innocent tone and sweet smile.

After Deanna worked out the tangles and helped Faith braid her hair, the two women set off. Faith had kept the lights dim in her quarters so the brightness of the corridor actually blinded her for a moment.

When she winced, Deanna asked, "How's your head?"

"It's fine. I'm still a little sensitive to light but at least the headaches have subsided."

They began to walk and Faith realized that if she hadn't been injured she'd be in Engineering right at that moment. It suddenly felt almost like she was skipping school.

"It's strange not to be working," Faith said as they passed numerous people in their crisp Starfleet uniforms. She wore comfortable black pants and a thick sweater, which felt off compared to everyone else. "I feel like I should be doing something ."

"Resting is doing something," Deanna said, slipping her arm around Faith's shoulders. "Your body needs to recover and if you don't let it, you'll only hurt yourself more."

"Logically I know that. I can't help but feel useless though."

"I know. Just take it a day at a time. If today all you can do is take care of yourself, then it's a good day."

"Can you really sense what people are feeling?" Faith asked. "I know I joked about it before but I always wondered if it was true or just a rumor."

"Sometimes," Deanna answered. "It's not always clear, especially if the person doesn't know how they feel."

"That must be exhausting. Always feeling what other people do."

"Not really. I'm used to it, it's a part of me." She let go of Faith as they entered the lift. "Ten Forward, please." The lift began to move and the two women fell into silence.

Faith could feel Deanna studying her and she wondered what the Betazoid sensed. She almost asked but decided against it. Hearing her own emotions described verbally would make them all too real. At least keeping them locked up tight gave Faith some control. Or so she told herself.

When they reached Ten Forward, Faith was relieved to see it wasn't as busy as she thought it would be. Most people were separated into small groups, several even sat alone, reading from their PADDs or staring out at the vastness of space.

"Where would you like to sit?" Deanna asked.

Faith looked around and spotted a table tucked away in the corner and nodded toward it. "There is perfect."

They made their way over and Faith took the seat with her back to the wall, giving her a sense of security.

"It's nice in here," she admitted.

Deanna smiled as she looked around. "I think so too. It's a wonderful place to come and socialize. Maybe even make new friends."

"Subtle," Faith commented with a quirked eyebrow.

Deanna smirked back. "Sometimes subtly is overrated."

A dark-skinned woman in robes of deep purple with a large circular hat glided up to the table, a kind smile gracing her flawless features. "Well, hello there, I don't believe we've met."

"Guinan, this is Ensign Faith Diaz," Deanna said, introducing her companion. "Faith, this is Guinan. Ten Forward is her domain."

"It's pretty great," Faith said, extending her hand, which Guinan accepted. "Pleased to meet you."

"And you as well. Can I get either of you anything?" Guinan asked.

"Chocolate sundae," Deanna said immediately. "With chocolate ice cream—"

"Chocolate chips and hot fudge," Guinan finished, making Deanna smile. "And for you, Faith?"

"Oh, um...I'm not sure," Faith winced. "I need something substantial but not too filling."

Guiana gave her a knowing smile and raised her hand to cut her off. "Say no more, I have just the thing. Be right back."

Faith sat tense in her seat, eyes darting around the room. Without realizing it, her breathing began to grow shallow. Deanna noticed and reached out to place a comforting hand on her arm.

"Try taking deep breaths in and exhaling slowly," she suggested in a low, calm voice. "Try to block everything else out."

It took Faith a few tries before she could manage, taking too many sharp inhales before she got the hang of it. Deanna patiently led her through the exercise until Faith's shoulders relaxed.

"Thanks," she muttered.

"You're very welcome," Deanna said.

At that moment, the doors opened and Data entered Ten Forward. Remembering his kindness, Faith couldn't help but smile to herself. Deanna noticed and followed her gaze, surprised when she saw who Faith was staring at.

Data was greeted by several people who he responded to with a stiff wave. His golden eyes scanned the room and when they landed on Faith, he immediately headed towards her table.

"Counselor Troi, Faith," he said by way of greeting. "I hope I am not interrupting."

"Not at all," Deanna said smiling. "Would you care to join us?"

"Yes, please." Data took the chair across from Faith as Guinan arrived with food.

"Ice cream for the counselor," Guinan said, placing the dish in front of Deanna. "And, glazed salmon with greens and rice for the ensign."

The food looked amazing and smelled wonderful. Faith's stomach actually rumbled with interest and she picked up her fork.

"Thank you, Guinan."

"Think nothing of it. Hi, Data, can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you," Data answered.

She took her leave and when Faith looked back at Data, she was surprised to find him already staring at her.

"Are you feeling better from your injury?" he asked.

"Yeah, thanks. Much better," Faith answered before taking a hesitant bite of her salmon. A slew of savory flavors met her taste buds and she was amazed a replicator could produce something so delicious.

"How is it?" Deanna asked, holding a large spoonful of ice cream.

"It's really good," Faith said, reaching for another bite. "Data, are you sure you don't want anything? I feel weird eating in front of you."

"I had my supplements already. I do not require much," he explained. "I actually came here to see you."

Faith almost choked on her food. "Me? Why me?" she asked, face growing hot. She was well aware of Troi's arched eyebrow and her look of amusement at Faith's reaction.

The truth was, no one ever asked for Faith or came looking for her outside of Engineering. With Data being a senior officer, she was worried she may be in some kind of trouble. Did he change his mind about telling Geordi? Did he have more questions? Did he find something she missed? Something big?

She tried to remind herself none of those scenarios were very likely. However, anxiety could not be reasoned with.

"Two days ago Geordi found another object physically out of place like the one you found," Data explained. "I wanted to ask you if you had noticed others."

Faith allowed herself to relax. Curiosity replaced anxiety. "Not really, but things are still a little fuzzy. I guess I hit my head pretty hard."

"It'll come back to you," Deanna promised. "Just give it some time."

Faith acknowledged her with a smile. "I hope so. I'll think about it some more and see if anything jumps to mind. I do remember being confused because it was so random."

"I see," Data said with a frown.

"Do you think it was deliberate?" Deanna asked.

"It had to have been. It is highly unlikely two stations in Engineering were accidentally moved, especially given the weight of them."

"They're pretty heavy," Faith agreed.

Just then Commander Riker walked in and caught Deanna's attention. Troi smiled at him before turning back to Faith and Data. "I'll leave you two to talk Engineering," she said, picking up her ice cream as she stood. "Faith, let me know if you want to talk some more."

Huh. Faith realized Troi had gotten her to talk some. That sneaky Betazoid. "I will," she said. She even meant it.

Deanna stepped away, leaving Faith and Data alone.

"Are you having sessions with Counselor Troi?" he asked.

"No!" Faith immediately denied. "Well, yes, sort of. I'm thinking about it."

"I have found her advice helpful myself if that sways your decision."

Faith smiled, intrigued. "You see Counselor Troi?"

"I see her weekly and have sought her counsel on many occasions. While I have been around humans for a long time, their behavior is still puzzling to me."

"Join the club," Faith muttered.

"There is a club? I was not aware of this. Do they accept new members?"

Faith chuckled. "It's a saying. It means that you're not the only one who is puzzled by us. Humans confuse me too."

"In what way?"

"Too many to list right now." Faith took another bite of her food.

"When you are feeling better would you like to list them? I am curious to see if we are confused by the same things."

"Sure. Why not?"

Data offered a smile, staring at Faith as she ate. She got the distinct impression that he was studying her but she wasn't sure why.

"Was there something else you wanted to talk about?" she asked.

"May I ask a personal question?"

"You may but I might not answer it."

"Understood. I have not seen you in Ten Forward before. Do you wish to begin to socialize more?"

Faith considered his question as she gazed around the room. More people had wandered in since she arrived and the air buzzed with conversation.

"Maybe," she said after a moment. "I think today was Troi's successful attempt to get me out of my quarters for a little while. I might make it a habit."

"That would be a wise decision," Data said with a nod. "From what I understand, prolonged isolation does not help one's mental health."

"So it would seem," Faith sighed. "I have a hard time with crowds. However, I do have trouble sleeping. This may be a good place to go when I wake up in the middle of the night." She winced. "Although there probably won't be much socializing then either."

"I can accompany you if that would help."

Faith was surprised by his offer. "That's very kind of you, but you really don't have to."

"I enjoy speaking with you. It will be no trouble."

"I suppose without needing sleep you have a lot more time on your hands than we do."

"While it is true I do not require sleep, I often shut down for certain periods in the evening so that I may dream."

"You dream?" Faith asked, in awe.

Data nodded with a pleased smile. "It is a recent program that was activated quite by accident. It has been most intriguing."

"I bet. I haven't had a dream in months," she said. "If that's the case, I really don't want to impose on your dream time."

"As I said, it will be no trouble," Data assured her. "I can activate my dream program whenever I choose. Should you need an escort to Ten Forward in the evenings, I will gladly offer my services."

Faith allowed herself another smile. "As long as you don't mind, then I think I will take you up on your offer. Now, let's talk about the consoles in Engineering. What theories have you got so far?"

"There is insufficient evidence to make a clear hypothesis, however…"

Several tables away, Deanna watched the two with amusement. She could feel the shift in Faith's mood and see the life come back to her as she became engrossed in what Data was saying. Slowly she grew more at ease and seemed to have no trouble holding the conversation.

It was fascinating and incredibly sweet.

"What's going on over there?" Riker asked, following her line of sight as he stole a scoop of ice cream.

"I don't know," Deanna admitted. "But I'm curious to see where it leads."

#commander data #lt commander data #data tng #data soong #star trek next generation

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fandom-necromancer · 5 years

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712. Can you see the potential murder in my eyes?

This was prompted by the amazing @smolandangry001! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 (Warnings: mentioned past injury(shooting), threatening someone to confess, loss of self-control)

The human can handle himself, Nines had thought. He survived on the force for longer than I’m alive, he had thought. He wouldn’t be able to help him on one of his old cases, he had told himself as Gavin was asked to assist on a red-ice-bust. They weren’t really active in narcotics anymore, human-android crimes and homicides on the rise since the revolution, but Gavin had risen to his current status in that unit, had proved to be a remarkably able detective and showed his sharp mind again and again. So when a dealer that had vanished from the radar years ago reappeared, his old colleagues had requested Gavin back on the team. One of the few unsolved cases in his career, he had been all too eager to jump back onto it.

And now Nines saw the reconstructed ballistics. Several officers marked on a piece of paper, two letters and an abbreviated title to represent a whole person. Det. G.R. under them. Nines had immediately hurried for the hospital as he had gotten the message of Gavin being shot. It was nothing fatal, he thanked RA9 and every other human god for it, although he never had a religious awakening like other androids.

Because it could have been fatal. Just a slightly different angle. Just a little jerk of the wrist, maybe not even intended. A stray bullet ricocheting from a wall. So little was needed to end a human life, so fragile were their organic tissues. A body too complex to ever be replicated by man and all it needed was a little high-speed sphere. Gavin could have died. And he hadn’t been there. He wouldn’t have been able to do anything. It was that moment he had sworn to never let his partner alone again. No matter what Fowler ordered, no matter how unlikely it was for him to get hurt, he would be there.

He appeared calm on the outside, but the turmoil inside was only confined by sheer will and self-control. It was a boiling rage, an itch in his soldier-protocols. Every defence, every attack – armed and unarmed – was cycled through, readied to activate at just the slightest provocation. And it really just was bad timing that his co-workers had just now decided to bring their suspect into an interrogation room. He immediately stood, his legs shoving back the chair with a noise that disturbed the relative silence in the bullpen and gathered most attention on his person. Then he marched towards the officers handling the man. The shooter. The one that had hurt his human, his partner, Gavin, HIS-

‘I will interrogate him.’ It was spoken with resolute confidence. It allowed no discussion and still these utter fools dared to talk back. ‘I know you are personally invested, Detective, but it is our case. We can’t let you.’ ‘This wasn’t an offer’, Nines said calmly, holding his cold rage in short reigns. All the effort he had put into softening his features, into modelling a smile for his face and into making himself less threatening and more gentle, was lost now. He went from the included android that had deviated and learned how to be more human and love, back to the cold-hearted machine, the deviant-hunter, the killer in milliseconds. He suddenly radiated the coldness of the icy tundra he had been built for initially. And apparently the two men realised just how close the android was to murder, because they sank into their uniforms and took a step back, hurriedly nodding. ‘We’ll bring him in for you, sir!’

Nines stood in front of the table the criminal was chained to. He knew he had to stay calm if he wanted to get a confession - and more importantly to keep the officers that watched through the mirror from interfering. But he couldn't fake it good enough to sit down. In fact, it was the hardest task he had ever faced not to strangle the man with his own two hands, seeing him gulp for air that wouldn't come, see the realisation set in and the eyes slowly falling shut, the- 'So you gonna ask your questions?' The criminal tried to sound bored, just as much a charade as Nines' outer appearance. 'Or you gonna waste ma damn time?' Nines fixed the man with a death glare he didn't pick up. 'I would appreciate you confessing your crimes now', Nines hissed out between clenched teeth. 'Nah, not gonna confess shit. Didn't do anything.' He made it a game staring at the mirror picking his teeth. But Nines saw just how much his hands were shaking. Guilty fucking asshole daring to lay a hand on-

Nines' synthetic nails screeched on the metal table as he balled his hands to fists and the criminal jumped, looking the android in the eye. And maybe this was the first “oh shit“ moment, because he could sense movement behind the mirror. Nines ignored them, wirelessly hacking the door to simulate an emergency lockdown. 'So, you're not confessing, hmm?' He stood up to his full height and stared down on the idiot. 'As I said, I would appreciate it if you confessed now. And believe me, a few minutes from now you wished you had.’ He walked around the table and manoeuvred himself behind the man, creeping up from where he couldn't see him, a stray line of programming that made him the perfect hunter. 'Then let me tell you what we know. Semi-automatic. Luger pistol. 9mm. Three shots fired, one hit, officer wounded in hospital.’

‘Ah, come on, the asshole had it coming. Shouldn’t disturb other people’s businesses next time.’ Nines slammed his fist against the wall not to hit the criminal and it was an immense satisfaction that he jerked in his chair again. More to keep the perp safe, he repositioned himself in front of him again, table a neutral zone between them. Then he leaned on it heavily and fixed him with a deadly stare. ‘This asshole is my partner’, he announced and let it sink in for effect. ‘Just so you know.’ He continued his pace around the table and slammed his arm down on it again, only inches from where the perp was handcuffed. Nines couldn’t suppress his cold fury any longer and it seeped into his voice as he pressed: ‘Can you see the potential murder in my eyes? Can you? You hurt my human. You could have killed him.’ He banged on the table again and the criminal was shivering now, fear evident on his face. That cold-hearted bastard that had shot at police and dealt drugs to countless humans, making them dependent and then used them as his minions, was terrified. And Nines couldn’t put in words how much he enjoyed that fact. ‘Oh, believe me, you better confess. Otherwise I’m-‘ There was banging at the door and Nines rolled his eyes. That would be a disciplinary for sure.

In any case it added to the criminal’s panic. The shivering got worse and it only needed one more stare by him to break. ‘Fine, fine, I’ll confess! I did it, yes, I did it all! Please, fuck!’ Nines grinned and patted down the folds in his clothes. ‘Ah, that’s good to hear.’ He took a deep breath, knowing very well that this statement alone would get him straight into jail for a long time. ‘And remember: No one hurts my partner and gets away from it, so you better pray he recovers fast, asshole.’ Then he walked to the door that unlocked as soon as he touched the handle. Outside there stood several seriously worried officers that looked at him no less afraid than the perp. But Nines had long switched back to his more socially acceptable appearance and smiled at them. ‘The suspect’s all yours, no harm done.’ No one dared to say anything. ‘And a confession after less than five minutes! I think that��s a new record, wouldn’t you think?’

Before anyone could pin him on the locked door and his less than professional demeanour, he walked away, whistling a happy tune. Time to visit Gavin in the hospital and tell him of his most recent success.

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #Gavin Reed #RK900 #Nines: If it wasn't for the laws of this land I would have slaughtered you!

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sardonic-at-heart · 4 years

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Long Night (SamxMika)

Summary: Mika comes home to find Sam asleep after an exhausting day at work. This is a sequel to Early Morning. (Read it on AO3!)

Mika found Sam knocked out on their bed, watching him snore with a tender gaze. He was halfway stretched across the mattress lying on his stomach, the side of his face pressed against it while his knees nearly touched the carpeted floor. One foot was missing a sock, which she noticed was tossed a couple inches away from their hamper, and the other looked like it was almost pulled off his foot, but he gave up at the end. He didn’t even bother changing out of his uniform, she mused, as she gently combed his ever messy brown hair from his closed eyes.

She had decided to go out with her best friends after he called and apologized that he wouldn’t be home until the evening. Apparently his chief forced anyone in the early shift to help with patrol for the evening shift, and Sam had the misfortune of being there at the wrong time. It still amazed her how her boyfriend constantly put up with his chief’s petty treatment without blowing a fuse. If she were in his situation she would have quit a long time ago.

But she knew how important this job was to him—to help those in need when they didn’t have anyone else to turn to—and she was so proud of his victories whenever he came back home to her.

Despite how she wanted him to rest for as long as he could, he needed to be out of his work clothes in order to do that. At first she tried to pull his jacket to see if she didn’t need to wake him, but after failing to even slip it off his shoulders for five minutes she sighed in defeat. She should have known this wouldn’t work. The incubus barely moved an inch if he was in a deep sleep.

“Sam,” she sat down as he elicited another snore. “Aomaris.”

He jolted awake, looking around their illuminated bedroom until his bleary eyes found hers. Yawning and swiping a hand down his face he said, “What time’s it?”

“It’s almost nine,” she waited for him to sit up and then greeted him with a kiss. “When did you finish your shift?”

“Six. Shit, I slept for three hours.”

“Let’s get you out of your uniform, okay?”

He mumbled his assent as she finally pulled his jacket off his broad shoulders, dressing him down until he wore his briefs. With an exaggerated grunt he walked over to toss all his clothes, including the sock he missed, in the hamper. She guided him toward the bathroom with practiced patience as he tiredly stumbled into the shower. His soft snoring echoed against the tiles, so she stood and waited outside of the curtains to make sure he wouldn’t fall asleep standing up.

Mika chuckled as he slumped forward, nodding in and out of consciousness while she towel dried his hair. She resorted to blow drying his damp hair when she noticed that massaging his head made him doze off. Handing his briefs and sweatpants to change into, she proceeded to clean her face with makeup remover and took a shower.

Although these were normal night routines that everyone did, it still brought a smile to her face when she managed to coax the sleepy incubus to brush his teeth with her, despite how he was at the edge of knocking out again. It was almost as if they were married couples. She giggled to herself with a small blush on her cheeks. Hopefully he would propose to her one day.

“Did you have dinner?” she asked as she closed the bedroom lights and met Sam at her side of the bed, turning on the lamp on her nightstand to see him.

He narrowed his eyes at the glare of light, sitting up against the headboard. “Had some leftovers before I passed out. You?”

She nodded and brought out the book she’d been currently reading onto her lap.

“What’re you doing?”

Looking up to his confused expression, she mirrored his features as she gestured to her book. “Uh, reading?” Was that a trick question?

He pouted. “You’re not going to sleep with me?”

“Sam,” she spoke slowly for his exhausted mind to understand. “I just want you to rest, okay? You had a long night and you’re going to have to wake up again in a few hours from now.”

She didn’t know it was possible, but he somehow turned up his pout with an exaggerated jut to his lips. He crawled under the sheets until his arms wrapped around her waist and forehead pressed against her left side. Giggling at his little tantrum, Mika finally put away her book and nudged him up until they were at eye level once again.

“So bratty,” she jokingly said as she kissed him.

“I could call the police on you,” his lips stretched in a sleepy smirk.

She responded with her own smirk. “Oh? What’ll you tell them?”

“10-25. Abandoned boyfriend who only wants love and attention.”

Humming in mock contemplation she said, “I don’t think I’ve heard that before.”

“Oh, I should know. Since I am a police officer.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

His narrowed eyes glinted with challenge and then he lunged at her, tickling her sides until she cried from laughter and begged him to stop. They fell to their sides, a chuckle still bubbling in his chest as she took the time to catch her breath. She traced her finger along the edges of his curved lips as his left hand trailed from her waist to her back and drew gentle circles against her clothed skin.

He grinned wider when she let out a relaxed sigh and huddled closer until her forehead was pressed against his chest. Ahh yes. The same warmth that was undeniably Sam and could never be replicated. She had missed this when he left for work and she would miss it again tomorrow morning. But he was here with her now and that was all she could ever want.

Sam shifted and, with a click, the bedroom was blanketed in darkness. Mika wasn’t really tired, but it was always so astounding how easily she could sleep as long as she was in his arms.

She felt his warm lips kiss the crown of her head and she placed one hand on his chest and the other wrapped loosely around his waist. Her eyes slid close as he made sure she was tucked into the blanket to protect her from the cold.

A quiet yawn drew from his lips before giving her body a reassuring squeeze. “Night.”

“Good night, Sam.”

Want more? Read my fanfics here!

#SeduceMeOtome #seducemetheotome #Mika Anderson #sam anderson #Sam Incubus #drabble #long night shifts #fluff

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missmarquin · 4 years

Text

All Over You Like a Cheap Jacket (NSFW)

This is super NSFW and entirely inspired by CherryConke’s art, which can be found here. Please make sure to check her work out! It’s the best. <3

You can also read here on AO3 for better quality!

---

Felix wasn't the kind of man to feel overly sentimental about things, but he can't stop the kernel of fondness that bubbles through him, as his fingers brush over the worn black fabric. The gold lining is faded with time, one of the lapels flopping slightly where it should be crisp.

He's not surprised that Sylvain has left the jacket here.

Even if the monastery is regarded with fondness, memories of school aren’t. Felix spent those days drenched in sweat, slapping swords against wooden dummies until the wood split. Sylvain spent them sneaking liquor into his room and losing himself between the legs of any willing party.

It’s odd, what can happen when your family is as fucked up as Sylvain’s is. Felix’s isn’t far off, but at the same time, his father hasn’t been hounding him for grandchildren from the time he was seventeen.

Felix smirks at the thought of that. The Margrave wasn’t like to ever get grandchildren, and Felix was one smug son-of-a-bitch about it.

He thumbs one of the golden buttons at the cuff. Sylvain is off doing a chore for Dimitri, which means he’ll drag it out until at least sundown to make it look like he’s actually putting in effort.

He pulls the school jacket from the hanger, holding it close. It smells like dust and the old cedar wardrobe that it’s sat in for five years. Felix would dream of Sylvain and this stupid uniform. They hadn’t come to terms with the idea of them yet— at that point-- but Goddess above, Felix would dream.

Sylvain, broad across the chest, his jacket fitting him like a second skin. Felix stares at it for a moment, then slings it around, hooking his arms into the sleeves. It’s swimming on him, hanging off of his shoulder and the ends of the cuffs skimming his fingertips.

Felix isn’t short— he’s a respectable height for an average man— but Sylvain was just that much bigger than him. Not that he was complaining.

He shuffles back to take a look in the dingy full length mirror that leans against the wall. Felix tends to dress down for casual nights. They haven’t met a battlefield in nearly a month, so he’s lounging around Garreg Mach in comfortable black pants and a white linen shirt.

And now Sylvain’s old school jacket, which skims his upper thighs. Felix whistles low, turning to and fro to see his full reflection. Not bad. It’s a little awkward, seeing the uniform on him as an adult, but he likes the oversized look of it. Perhaps it’s childish, but it makes him feel like he’s truly Sylvain’s.

Felix hums lightly, his hands sliding over the material. It’s a rough cotton, but not so rough that it’s uncomfortable. He remembers how Sylvain would pull at it nervously when they were younger, an odd tick.

He bets that Sylvain would love to see him like this, tucked into his jacket. Sprawled across their bed with little else on. Felix smirks at his reflection, his hand ghosting along the fly of his pants.

The thigh highs stay on, Sylvain frequently demands. It’d only taken once, but the man is smitten with the idea. Felix tends to roll his eyes at the request. He’ll put up a lot to please, he supposes.

He turns again, surveying his back half. The jacket barely covers the curve of his bottom, which is more thrilling than he would ever admit. Sylvain would definitely approve of this, which in turn, makes Felix approve of it.

There’s a twinge in his cock at the thought, and Felix smirks slightly. He kicks off his shoes and his pants quickly follow. He brushes a hand over his length, barely touching the soft skin there as he surveys the mirror once more.

Yeah, it’s a good look, and he can feel the arousal pool in the pit of his stomach. His gaze turns towards the door of their bedroom, and then to the wall beside it. He’s about the make the ensemble look even better.

Crossing the room, he grabs the soft leather of his thigh high boots. Ridiculous things, really, but they were warm and offered a little protection where he wasn’t keen on wearing armor. At least that’s what he tells himself. There’s a particularly vain side of Felix that only Sylvain was privy to, and there are moments when he likes to indulge.

He slips the boots on, buckling them loosely. Then he goes back to the mirror.

Oh. Felix’s thighs are pale against the dark jacket. He runs a hand along the top of the boots, the leather smooth under his fingertips. His other hand grips his cock loosely, giving it a quick pump. When he pulls away, it juts out from underneath the coat hem, already leaking from his slit. Oh yes, this will do.

He rarely pleasures himself, but Sylvain is busy and Felix is horny. He’s fueled by indecent thoughts of Sylvain wearing the jacket in his youth, tight across his shoulders, cut perfectly to his form. Felix swims in the garment, but he loves it— the size difference between the two of them.

He moves to the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He doesn’t like his shoes on the sheets, but he’s washed and polished them recently and hasn’t worn them since, so he’ll let it slide.

The jacket is warm and cozy, and Felix sinks into it, thinking of Sylvain. It’s a little pathetic, how he’s always on his mind but… well. Felix is allowed to be embarrassed when he’s keeping his own company, and the thoughts that come to mind are worth it.

These boots, Sylvain would say if he were present, drive me insane.

Felix grabs hold of his length once more. His grip is tighter this time as he slides his hand up. He thumbs over the tip to catch some of the precome there. Sylvain is gentler with his touch, and it drives Felix mad. He squeezes, his palm twisting around the crown of his dick.

He wonders how Sylvain did this when they were younger. Was it here, in this very room, stripped naked and on this bed? Or did he take risks, tucking into dark corners in the monastery proper, as he palmed himself while mostly clothed?

Knowing Sylvain, it was both.

Felix’s head falls back against the pillow, his eyes closed as he lets out a shaky breath. His hand is smaller, his strokes quicker, but it isn’t hard to imagine that it’s Sylvain’s hand on him instead. He likes to tease, keeping his hold loose, dragging the foreskin up and down leisurely. Felix slows his hand, trying to replicate the feel of it.

It’s not enough, he decides. He releases his length, moving to sit up in the bed. He rifles around in the drawer of the bedside table until— Ah. The bottle of oil is nearly empty, but there’s enough to make use of.

He settles back into the covers, trying to calm himself. Usually, when he’s alone like this, it’s a frantic affair that ends quickly in his hands alone. But he feels like relishing the moment, sinking into Sylvain’s jacket, wearing his favorite boots, thinking about his hands and what they would do to him.

The bottle is quickly uncorked, fingers dipping into the oily substance, before the container is abandoned on the bedside table. He readjusts his position, hand snaking around to press between his cheeks. The pad of his finger circles around his entrance, and he shivers at the contact.

Look at you under me, Sylvain would tell him. So responsive.

He presses firmer, relaxing into the touch, and his finger slips in. He grinds into his hand, biting his lip at the pressure. He wants more, but Sylvain is the type to take things slow. Sylvain likes to pull him apart little by little, before putting him back together.

Felix works his finger gently, pulling and pressing back in. The friction is heavenly, and Felix moans at the touch. The rest of his fingers are slick with oil, and eventually, he presses a second finger in, dragging at his rim.

His breath hitches at the stretch and he pauses his fingers, trying to keep a hold on himself. Instead, he strokes his length once more, grip loose and distracting. He pumps the fingers inside of him again, scissoring at his muscles, stretching them slowly.

Where is it? Sylvain would tease, even though he knows exactly where to touch.

Felix avoids it instead, pressing back into his hand and focusing on the gentle press of his fingers. His other hand only holds his cock, squeezing it gently as a reminder that it’s there.

Can you take more, Fe?

Yes, yes, he can, thinks. He pauses to collect a little more oil, the third finger slipping into him with little resistance. “Goddess above,” he moans, his hips shaking against the stretch. His fingers are slimmer than Sylvain’s and not as long, but heavens, he can’t think straight as he pumps them in and out with a little more urgency.

His other hand slides up his length, curling around the crown of his head. He thumbs his slit, drooling with precome, sighing at the sensation, thinking about—

The lock in the bedroom door opens with a click, the heavy oak swinging open. Sylvain walks into the room, shutting the door and locking it out of habit. He sighs as he shucks off his overcoat and shoes, rolling and stretching his shoulders out.

And then he spots Felix on the bed, red-faced with strain and embarrassment. Sylvain’s gaze rakes across his body, pausing on the jacket and then the thigh highs. It stops once he catches sight of Felix’s cock in his hand, hard and leaking. Felix pumps it once, before pressing his hips back into his hand.

Sylvain smiles at the sight, his own hand ghosting along the front of his pants. “What’s this?” he asks.

“What does it look like?” Felix bites, but the clipped tone dies in his throat with the curl of his hand around the head of his length. Sylvain is still in the middle of the room when his gaze drops to the hand underneath Felix.

“How many,” Sylvain asks. His voice is pitched low as he watches, but Felix can’t answer. He can’t form words. He’s too focused on the tight grip around his cock, the way Sylvain is watching him, the thick drag of his fingers in his— “One?” Sylvain steps closer, undoing the top button of his shirt. And then the next one, and the next.

Felix swallows thickly, his eyes following the length of Sylvain’s neck and the corded muscles there. His hesitation must speak for itself, because the other man crosses the room, untucking his shirt and loosening his belt.

“Two?” Sylvain leans down and whispers against his ear, and Felix grinds against his fingers at the sound of it. The mattress dips under Sylvain as he presses his hips against Felix’s leg, and Goddess above, he’s already hard.

“Syl—” Felix moans, his knee digging hard into Sylvain’s crotch.

“Just at the sight of you,” Sylvain purrs. He slides his hands along the soft leather of the thigh high boots, squeezing his thighs. “Every time is like the first time I saw you underneath me, all flushed and wanting.” One hand drags along Felix’s hip bone and around, cupping the firm muscles of his ass, before slipping down to where his fingers were pressing into himself and--

“Fe,” he groans, his voice suddenly strained. “Three?”

Felix lets out a pathetic whine, and Sylvain presses his other hand to his mouth, pressing two fingers along the seam of his lips. Felix sucks them into his mouth, tongue swirling around the digits sensually.

“What were you thinking about?” Sylvain asks him, pulling his fingers away. He drags it down his side, rucking up the jacket as he grabs a handful of Felix’s ass, squeezing. Then his hand drags back around, fingers graze Felix’s along his cock, before dropping down and cradling his balls.

“You,” he moans, punctuating the word with a push of his fingers, pressing closer to that spot. He feels Sylvain’s hand take his wrist gently, pulling his hand away. The loss is immediate, his muscles clenching around nothing.

“Me?” Sylvain asks, pressing his fingers to the loosened hole, massaging his entrance gently.

“Your jacket,” Felix breathes, pressing against his hand. “I— fuck—”

Sylvain presses two fingers inside and Felix whimpers at the feel of it, letting go of his cock so he wouldn’t tumble over the edge too quickly. Sylvain hums at his reaction, his other hand thumbing the material of his old school coat.

“I love this on you,” he says, leaning over to lick a stripe up Felix’s neck. “Goddess, I’ve imagined it enough times,” Sylvain confesses. “You, tucked away in my clothes, nothing else on. It’s a thing of my dreams.”

His free hand finds Felix’s thigh, gripping at the leather there. “A close second to these, of course.”

Felix huffs at that. “Idiot,” he chides.

“I can die a happy man,” Sylvain tells him, kissing down his neck and across his collarbone. “Now that I’ve seen you like this.” He noses open the coat, tongue circling around the rosey bud of Felix’s nipple. Felix keens into the touch, his hips jerking, trying to gain friction, any kind of friction. “What else were you thinking of?”

Felix knows he’ll just keep asking until he answers, so he swallows his pride. “How you used to jerk off,” he hisses. “Was it here in this bed? Or did you prefer to wait until your conquests—” Felix’s words are cut off abruptly, when Sylvain twists his fingers slightly, pressing into the spot that renders Felix into a sputtering mess.

“Oh, there?” Sylvain teases, stroking it again, and Felix cries out, his sweaty bangs plastered to his forehead. Sylvain slides back up his body, his lips close to his ear, grinding his own cock against Felix’s. “And to answer your question— Constantly. In this bed, in the bath, and always to you.”

“Sylvain—”

“Always to the thought of you. Wearing my jacket or naked in my bed. Your hair loose and down. Flushed and sweaty underneath me as you—”

“Please,” Felix begs. “Fuck me, already.” He feels Sylvain’s lips twist into a smile, before pecking a kiss against his forehead.

“Since you asked so nicely.” Sylvain’s slips his fingers from him, pressing Felix's back into the pillows, and pulling his hips forward. Collecting the bottle of oil once more, he pours the rest onto his own cock, slicking it up as he surveys Felix.

“Felix,” Sylvain says, his voice full of awe as he looks at him again. But he’s taking too long and Felix is impatient. He grabs a hold of Sylvain’s cock, lifting his legs slightly as he adjusts the positions of their hips and the other man complies.

It’s Sylvain’s turn to let out a low moan as he presses into him. It’s good, it’s so good, and Felix is practically shaking at the thickness of Sylvain, at the way he’s stretched around him. At the way he’s filled to the brim. Sylvain grabs his thigh, squeezing tightly as he holds his hips still.

Felix huffs at that. “Don’t tell me you’re already—”

“Goddess, have you seen yourself tonight?” Sylvain snaps right back.

“Of course I have,” Felix replies smugly. “It’s why—”

Sylvain pulls his hips back, before snapping back in. Whatever Felix was thinking instantly is lost, as he arches back into the pillows. The coat falls open, tumbling down one side, revealing a dusky nipple, and Sylvain’s breath hitches at the sight.

“Perfect,” Sylvain mutters, setting a pace that’s a little more frantic than he usually starts with. “Always so tight and warm, always so—” He groans, and Felix shudders underneath him. “Only for me,” Sylvain finishes.

“Only for you,” Felix agrees. Sylvain grabs him by the hips, pulling him into his thrusts. Felix meets them eagerly, his muscles burn with the strain. And then Sylvain hooks his arms under his thighs, lifting his legs slightly as he changes the angle and—

Felix howls under him, throwing his head back, his eyes shut tight. He can’t hold off anymore, he’s so close, so close. He wraps his hand around his cock once more, pumping it frantically, his hand tight around the tip.

“Fe, I’m—”

“Please,” Felix begs again, and Sylvain answers by rutting into him sharply, hitting the right angle, the perfect angle, hitting it over and over and over—

Felix jerks into his own hand roughly, crying out as he falls over the edges. His vision goes white as he rides the waves of his orgasm, clenching around Sylvain tightly.

“Fe,” Sylvain hisses, fingers digging into the meaty part of his thighs above the boots. Several more thrusts and he’s coming too, his hips stuttering as he snaps them hard into Felix. “Oh, oh— Goddess, I love you— I love you.”

Felix doesn’t reply, but reaches to grip his hand tightly, smoothly his thumb over Sylvain’s knuckles. It’s his way of saying it too, that physical contact, and Sylvain just melts against him, pressing his forehead into the crook of his neck.

After a moment, Sylvain pulls out. They clean up their mess and change into proper sleeping clothes.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Sylvain mutters against his skin, as they lay down for the night. Sylvain’s tucked himself into Felix’s side, resting his cheek on his chest. Felix chuckles hoarsely, carding his fingers through his hair affectionately.

“You said you could die happy now,” Felix replies. “I’d prefer if you didn't.”

“You’re right. I can’t die until I try on your jacket.”

Felix pauses, thinking of the larger man, his muscles bulging in a too-tight vest. “Sylvain—”

“Kidding, kidding.” A pause. “Unless you actually want—”

“I’d prefer to see you in something else,” Felix murmurs, turning to press a kiss into Sylvain’s forehead. “I still have that outfit from my dancer certification—”

“Done,” Sylvain immediately responds.

Felix isn’t joking, even if he knows that Sylvain thinks he is. He’ll wrestle him into the tight costume, whether he wants to wear it or not.

Next time, he thinks.

He can’t wait.

#sylvix #felix/sylvain #felix hugo fraldarius #sylvain jose gautier #sylvixsmut #fanfiction #Fire Emblem Three Houses #fire emblem fanfiction #Smut

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aprindea · 5 years

Text

The Gift

(summary) For his one year anniversary of his first date with Garak, Bashir gives Garak a gift.

(established couple: Garak/Bashir, M/M )

(PG13/no sex/kissing/fluff)

******

Dr. Bashir looked more disheveled than usual after working a double shift; his hair stood at awkward angles. His facial expression signalled concern, even as he stepped from the Infirmary into the hallway that led into the Promenade to the Replimat. Thirty-six more hours. Jadzia caught up with him.

“Julian, are you taking a break?”

He turned to her, unsurprised. “Hello Jadzia, yes I very much am! I’m going to have a meal, then go to my quarters, change, and go back to the Infirmary.”

“Are you all right?”

“Oh, yes, fine.” He attempted to handwave her concerns.

The two officers sat down, him with an anxious smile, her with a disbelieving look in her aquamarine-blue eyes. He ate quickly, inhaling his food as if he was in a big rush; she ate at her normal rate, politely and discreetly.

“And you?” he’d asked, in between quick bites.

“I … had a date with Worf last night. It didn’t go as well as I expected,” she confessed, still smiling.

He frowned in response. “What did he do?”

She replied, conspiratorially. “It’s more about what he didn’t do. Well! I’m not worried about it. We’ll stay friends,” she said with a wink. He nodded and continued eating, though his anxious body language gave him away. “Any plans these next few days for you?”

His shoulders tensed. “Actually, in thirty-six more hours is my and Garak’s… one year anniversary,” he said, and though he sounded pleased and hopeful, his foot still tapped underneath the table.

“That’s cause for celebration”.

“It will be a relief. I will finally be able to give Garak his gift.”

“You’re worried he won’t like it?” she questioned.

“I’m worried it won’t make it until then,” the doctor explained.

The Trill’s eyes widened. “You’re giving Garak a pet?”

“No, but something even more delicate, if that’s possible,” he said, leaning closer, and then, “I’ll show you, if you’d like... Keiko was supposed to be in charge of the “taking care of it” part but she got called to Bajor last minute on a dream project regarding formerly extinct Bajoran flora, and I could never ask her to turn down such a fascinating research opportunity.”

They went to his quarters; Bashir stepped under the sonic, was out and changed into a new uniform in record time. Jadzia had waited calmly, but her expression was curious the moment he stepped out, especially as his face betrayed worry. The station’s CMO tapped the side of his table, and a large secret drawer popped out, which had been outfitted with artificial light. Inside, under that artificial light, was a beautiful, violet-and-green coloured orchid, with four large flowers and emerald green stems.

“Julian, that’s so beautiful!”

“And difficult, beautiful and difficult. Requires quite a specific regimen, a meticulous sort of care… this is a type of edosian orchid of a rare coloration, normally grown on Cardassia Prime, on the most Western point of the coastline.” He checked the flowers and leaves of the plant with a small magnifier, seemingly looking for the tiniest details, and watered it with pre-measured container of room temperature water, which was absorbed into the dark soil, and took some small, sesame-sized plant food from another pre-measured container and distributed it carefully.

“You aren’t doing too badly! The orchid looks like it’s thriving.”

“I have to keep it alive for thirty-five and a half more hours,” he replied, matter-of-factly, trying to prevent himself from sounding desperate.

“Wait, you’ve never had a plant before?”

“I have,” he explained mournfully, “but they tend to… they tend to die under my care.”

“This one isn’t dying,” she pointed out, rightfully, as she smiled at him with her glittering eyes from the reflection of the artificial light.

Julian Bashir, enhanced human, chief medical officer above Deep Space Nine, regular performer of difficult surgeries gulped. His mouth was dry. He took a few breaths.

Jadzia, for her part, clapped him on the shoulder, and stood. “You’ll be fine. It’s gorgeous. He’ll love it.”

Julian smoothed his hair and uniform. Together, they stepped out of his quarters. The CMO went back to work, and the Trill lieutenant went back to her work station on the Bridge.

While in the infirmary, Dr. Bashir contacted Garak to make some excuse, but it turned out not to be necessary.

“Hello, my dear”, the Cardassian responded, a preoccupied expression on his ridged features. “I am afraid that I will not be available for a time; I am putting the finishing touches on a wedding dress, and the final fitting is tomorrow.”

“Ahh, right, of course. I’m sure it looks beautiful.”

“If I never see white Andorian lace again, it will be too soon,” he replied, frustration permeating his normally calm and smooth tone of voice. “Forgive me, it’s this veil; seems my customer’s Andorian’s family uses a lot of pure white as a tradition, and even in lower light it is uncomfortably bright. The material manages to be both thick and somehow too stiff, besides; fortunately, I’ve been able to tame it into what I trust is an acceptable shape.”

“I am sure she will love your design and the result,” tried Bashir for encouraging.

“I should hope so. We’ve worked closely for approximately eight weeks,” the Cardassian explained.

Dr. Bashir raised his eyebrows. “Difficult customer?”

Garak replied smoothly this time. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before, my dear.”

“All right, before I go, I’ll remind you that you still have to drink and eat. Please, Garak.”

“I have eaten and I am drinking tea; I will be re-filling my cup soon.”

The two said their goodbyes and that evening, Dr. Bashir checked on the plant again, this time talking to it, since they were alone in his quarters.

“I hope Elim likes you. He works long hours, so there is an eighty-seven percent likelihood he will keep you on his desk, close by. It’s true he hasn’t mentioned anniversaries yet, but I have to assume Cardassians celebrate them, even if they are not married. Yes, your flowers look beautiful, look at you, great job.”

Not that Odo didn’t already believe that I am a very strange sort of alien… he thought to himself, sighed and went to his quarters and changed into his night clothes. Twenty eight and a half more hours.

He slept fitfully, dreaming the plant had grown to human sized. In the dream, Jadzia had nonchalantly helped him hide it from Sisko. His first thought upon awakening: Twenty one and a half more hours. Once more, he tapped the side of the table, and noted the plant was its regular expected size, the flowers looked happy, turning up towards the light, brightly coloured in appearance; the soil remained dark, which the doctor recalled it meant the plant was getting enough water. He once again deposited the water and plant food portion for the day, and checked the flowers and stems carefully. All appeared well, and so the doctor gently pushed the drawer shut and let out a breath he was unaware he was holding.

Upon stepping into the hallway, he rushed to the replimat, chose a sandwich, and ate it while walking to the Infirmary. Once in his office, he debriefed with Dr. Gilani, briefly recalled that he had twenty more hours and worked a while longer than strictly required.

Ten more hours. Dr. Bashir checked on the plant once again, including the soil moisture levels; he fed and watered the plant, and re-closed the drawer with the artificial light, which contained, for the last time, the fussy orchid.

The tired doctor headed to bed, sleeping for a few short hours before the computer awakened him for the day of the anniversary. He did his regular morning routine, checked on the plant again, with an elevated heart rate on his end (completely psychosomatic, stop that, heart) and sent a written message to Garak for a dinner invitation.

During his lunch hour, he received a response on his mini personal padd: “I am available, however, it will be a late, brief dinner; there is a slight alteration the customer asked me to make on the veil, and I must ensure its completion.” Bashir grabbed his padd as soon as he’d spotted the small green light alert and immediately replied with “Thank you”, pressing harder than was necessary, sending the message.

In his quarters, after his shift, Dr. Bashir checked on the plant twice; there was no change. He turned on his replicator, paced while trying to decide meals, and contacted Jadzia: “I’m doomed. There is a twelve percent chance he doesn’t want to even mention our anniversary.”

Jadzia replied shortly: “Not a chance, your math is off. Drink something for liquid courage. Plant picture?”

He sent her a picture of the orchid to which there was a speedy reply: “As beautiful as ever. He will 99% love it and he has likely handmade something for you.”

The genetically modified doctor’s heartbeat did not slow down by much.

Garak, for his part, had finished the veil; now, he was putting the finishing touches on what looked like a human suit from the 1950s, complete with silk tie. There was a subtle pattern on the green shirt, and the tie had a green and golden colour combination, and the same subtle texture pattern as the shirt. Carefully, he checked once more for stray string, found none, and so the suit was placed in a thin garment bag. The Cardassian tailor and designer picked up the gift, drank the last of the cold tea on his desk and headed to Bashir’s quarters.

The door to his doctor’s quarters opened without delay; the Cardassian quickly took in his surroundings, only to account for changes from last time. The lights were lower, the temperature was turned up, and his doctor was dressed in a delightful grey shirt with black slacks. There was that smile directed at him! Garak smiled back, having placed the gift on a chair away from him.

“Hello, Garak. I’ve set up for dinner, and your tea.”

“Thank you, hello, my dear.” He was tired, and his voice sounded like it.

They sat down and helped themselves to the dishes, while Bashir explained:

“I have something for you; it is small, but I hope you like it.”

“I also have something for you; something I made as an experiment.”

The Cardassian turned, and saw his doctor’s hazel eyes lit up, his pupils slightly dilated. Dr. Bashir stood to open the drawer to the short table; when he turned, Garak was holding the garment bag, and Bashir said: "You didn’t!”

“I had to, you see; I asked the database what I should do because it seems that this is a significant date. But doctor, tell me that isn’t a real edosian orchid. It is nearly impossible to grow them on this miserable station!”

“Nearly, yes… but it is indeed an edosian orchid, real and non replicated, it is your gift.”

They exchanged the gifts, Bashir excitedly opening the garment bag and admiring the suit, Garak gingerly taking the pot with the plant and carefully studying the flowers and leaves of the live orchid.

“My dear, this is… this is beautiful. I certainly did not expect- well. This gift is so thoughtful!”

“And this suit! The colours! I will have to try it on.”

“Please,” spoke the Cardassian, yet he was still looking at the flower, as if it was part of a dream and it would vanish if he stopped staring.

Even in the artificial overly harsh light of Bashir’s quarters, the flower petals shone with a wonderful depth; the shades of purple with a small section of orange complimented everything, even these dark grey quarters, which had been built for Cardassian military.

Bashir came out while he was doing his bowtie. Garak was instantly at his side, having gingerly placed the plant on top of the table and now finding himself standing too close to the doctor, yet Bashir didn’t mind. Instead, the human smiled at him. Imagine that, the Cardassian thought to himself, and looked at his partner, who had managed to tie his bowtie. Garak reached for it instinctively and straightened it slightly, touched his shoulders, and gently moved a stray strand of hair away from Bashir’s face.

“Happy anniversary, Garak.” the doctor began to lean forward, but stopped himself.

Instead, Garak closed the small gap between them. “Happy Anniversary, and please go ahead.”

It was at this moment that Bashir kissed him. Time stopped; the Cardassian responded with enthusiasm, reaching for Bashir’s head and applying varying degrees of pressure. The two were in almost perfect sync, until Garak pulled away, somewhat reluctantly, to breathe.

Then, breathless, Bashir blinked, and Garak did too, almost as if it were a reply: I feel safe.

THE END

#garashir #garak x bashir #elim garak #garak/bashir #fluff #julian bashir #doctor bashir

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carrietrekkie · 5 years

Text

“You know, I was right.”

Hey together!

I got some warnings for that: No drama, no spaceships, no Starfleet.

I finally made it through the part where it gets much more romantic but I also put in some funny parts.

I really hope you enjoy it, and please left me some fb!

@bold-brave-courageous @allthetrek @reeselivesforeverinmyheart

I was surprisingly well rested when an unexpected ringing woke me up and gave my plans a small damper. I threw on a jacket and hurried to the door, in front of it stood someone I had not expected at all.

"Commander?" I blinked at the First Officer of the Enterprise. "Una." She smiled brightly at me. "We are not on duty, we even have holidays and what I intend to do with you doesn´t necessarily need rank and command structure." "Why do not I take that from you?" I replied. "Do you want to come in?" "Gladly." She floated past me. "I almost didn´t recognize you without your uniform." "For that I recognize you in it too well." Una looked at me. "Freshen up, put on clothes. It's time to polish your wardrobe. " "Can I at least have breakfast?" I slipped into the little bath and followed her command, please, I was not sure what it was. "No, we have breakfast in San Francisco." "Okay." I got the feeling that this was not a spontaneous idea. "But I have to disappoint you, except for my uniform, I have no other things to wear, except a few sports clothes." "Good." She handed my things to the bathroom. I saved myself the question of where she got it from. "So first shopping, then breakfast." And that sounded more like an order than a request. Surprisingly, it was a few hours of fun before I ran into my own day plan in a sidewalk café. *******

"It couldn´t have been any better, could it?" Captain Diego Palma grinned at him broadly. "Finally you have a reason, a good one, to get rid of the hologram communication systems." "Come on, you cannot stand it anymore than I do." Chris leaned back in his chair. "I remember that you have impressively asked your chief engineer not to install any of these things in your ready room." "Point for you." Pike and Palma knew each other from their time as test pilots in Starfleet and although Chris would not have called him his best friend, he was always happy when they led one or the other mission together. Right now, however, he enjoyed especially that a pleasant breeze was blowing around his nose and that the coffee had not come out of the replicator for months.

"But seriously?" Diego bothered with another muffin. "The admirals react over. Problem detected, problem banned, right? "Chris shrugged as Palma spoke again. "Put the Enterprise on hold? The fleet is not fully restored after the war, but it's not necessary to brake that way, in my opinion. "

"Well, but nobody asks us." Pike reached for his cup. "For now, I'm glad they do not hold us in the dock." "My speech." "What are your plans?" "We set off to survey and explore the Lambetta sector. They've assigned a bunch of cadets to me, I hope we have the mess in hand until we get there. "Palma glanced at Pike. "I reckon that you are flourishing too, the fleet desperately needs staff and some degree programs have been accelerated enormously or released for training on spaceships." "We have always had many cadets on the Enterprise, so not much changes."

"I want your serenity." Diego looked around. "So something different. Who is Cathrin Zimmer? " "A member of my crew." "Oh Chris, you've always been such a lousy liar." "Not everyone can sell a refrigerator to an Eskimo." He grinned at him. At this point, Diego was the perfect cliché, when there were supposed stories of women, everything else was suddenly uninteresting. "It is subject to secrecy." "Mmh hm." Palma shrugged her eyebrows. "How secret?" "So secret that I would have to shoot you if I betrayed it to you and myself too."

"Spoilsport." The Spaniard leaned back. "So is she pretty? Sexy? Exciting? Or everything together? " "Diego, if I remember correctly, you are married, right?" Chris grinned at him, addressed back. "Yes, and I love her idolatrously, so I've made it my mission to make everyone around me happy." He spread his arms, one hand landing on Pike's shoulder. "And you look like you have not been really happy for quite a while." "That's a whole different story." Pike started stirring the spoon in his cup. "Don´t let you grow more gray hair Chris. Too much pondering is not good for the soul, let alone heart and mind. " "Diego Palma, will you become a poet in your old days?" "Maybe and you know that I'm half a year younger than you?" Diego's eyes wandered past Pike, then he raised his eyebrows and whistled softly. Chris frowned slightly, then turned sideways to see what caught the other captain's attention. And it was not hard to find out. Chris had not turned around yet when he saw Cathrin coming through the tables. It took him a moment to recognize her without her uniform. She was wearing a dark red dress that looked like it was made just for her. Kneeling around, just tight enough to go over as decent and she wore it as if she had never done anything different. She waved briefly as she recognized him.

"Hey!" Cathrin stopped beside him. "Number One said I would find you here." "Even on vacation infallible." Chris smiled at her, then a throat clearing forced him to pull away from her. "Are you introducing us?" Diego smiled wider, if that was possible, and rose from his chair. "Of course, sorry." Pike knew he had caught him. "Cathrin Zimmer, Captain Diego Palma." "Sir, I'm glad to meet you." Cathrin reached out her hand and instead of shaking it, the captain leaned toward her and motioned for a kiss. "Oh believe me, the joy is on my side." Chris could tell from her smile that she did not quite know what to do with that remark. "Do you want to sit down with us?"

"I really don´t want to bother." She pointed outside. "Louvier was just so fond of bringing me something and I thought you might want to take a close look at it." Now it was her turn to brow her eyebrows. "You don´t bother us, we were done." Palma reached for his jacket. "I have a date with my wife anyway." Now Chris rose from his chair. "It was really nice that we saw each other again face to face." "So no hologram flickering." The Spaniard ignored Pike's hand and closed him briefly in his arms instead. "All at once." Laughing, Chris let go and smiled again at Cathrin's confused face. "Miss Zimmer, it was an extraordinary, if short, pleasure." "That, I can only give back." "Be careful out there." Pike nodded to him. "Always." He winked, then they left the café, said goodbye to each other and Palma disappeared in the bustle on the promenade. "Do I want to know what he meant?" She smiled broadly at him. "If I figure it out, I'll let you know." Chris put an arm around her. "Nice that you're here and if I can say that, you look stunning." Cathrin laughed and spun. "Thank you!" Then she looked at him, an outrageously sweet expression in her eyes. "Alright, if you have time and still want to." She conjured a key from somewhere and held it under his nose.

"How about a little spin?"

******

Once again I was shaken, then the whole waggle wobbled and came to a standstill with a sad chuckle. At least five meters further than before.

"I've already driven a car." I squinted in the direction of my utterly contrite student and tried my best not to burst into laughter. "Did I say that?" Chris raised an eyebrow and I did the same. "I may even aloud to fly a spaceship." I pinched my lips. "Yes, that sounds like it's from me." He hung his head. "And quite, very darkly, I remember reminding you that it's not so easy to do a gearshift." I chuckled softly, which gave me a bad look from him. "It's been a while, but I'm pretty sure this conversation goes like this."

"Don´t you ever forget anything?" He sank back into the driver's seat. "Nothing I experienced personally." I grinned at him, straightened and looked at him. "Once again?" "All good things are?" He thought for a moment. "Five?" "Seven." "If you tell that to anyone." Chris rolled his eyes, then gave me a look that made my heart beat faster. "Then what?" I hoped I got an equally outrageous expression on my face. "Do I have to peel potatoes or something like that?" Laughing, he shook his head lightly, then took a deep breath, turned the key in the ignition and the engine came to life. "OK." I tapped the gear stick. "I'll show you some, that helped me back then." "I am listening." Chris looked at me. "But so that I understand it." "I'll try and get on the clutch." He did it and I put my hand on his thigh. "Eyes closed." "Is this a good idea?" "You should not drive, just listen, close your eyes."

Still undecided what he should think of it, he followed my instructions. "Okay, and now slowly raise your foot." I looked at him. He was highly concentrated and tried to do exactly what I told him to do. "There is a point, should come soon, where you feel how the car starts to vibrate easily." I squinted down to see how far he had come, then felt a familiar vibration in his leg. "Stop, right there, do you have this point and you give gas, slowly, then the car starts." "May I open my eyes again?" "Yes you may." Slowly, I pulled my hand back and Chris set to start his next attempt. "Will you do me a favor?" He squinted at me. "Sure, which one?" "Don´t try to look that way, I feel like I did my Astrophysics exam and I failed it." "OK." I leaned into the seat and closed my eyes with a grin. "Better?" "Not worse." I heard him breathe, then he repeated that and just as he pressed the gas pedal this time, the car drove off slowly. "Don´t forget to switch." "You shouldn´t look." "And you look at the street!" His luck the traffic was virtually nonexistent. "Before we hit something." "We're in the desert, there's nothing against miles we could drive against." "Ah ha." I opened my eyes again and found surprised that we drove quite fast through the area. I looked at him.

"And?" "I could get used to that." He grinned at me. "May I listen to music now?" "You keep your hands on the steering wheel." I tapped the screen and called up the pieces he had chosen. I had to let him do, that after he had managed to set the car in motion, the rest seemed to be a breeze so I relaxed as the first few bars of “All the time” went through the speakers and saw watching him drive as if he had never done anything else.

I had to fall asleep at some point, because when I opened my eyes again, we parked in front of an incredibly beautiful farmhouse. Slowly I got out and looked around. It was quiet, a little further away were a few horses in a paddock. Behind me a door rattled and I turned around. Chris just came down the small staircase on the porch.

"Hey, rested?" He smiled at me. "I'm just wondering how long I slept?" I stretched a little. "Where are we?" "Mojave." He came to me, I opened my eyes. "How fast did you drive?" We had been just somewhere outside San Francisco when I let him behind the wheel. "The transporter brought us here. The car would never have made it that fast." Chris pulled me away from the car and closed the door. "I wanted to show you my home." "This is your house?" "Yes." He pointed to an outbuilding. "There would be room in the barn for your car, if you want to leave it here." "Would that be possible?" I looked at him. "I mean, it cannot stand on the Enterprise forever." "I wouldn´t have offered it." "Well then, I'll leave it here." I went to the trunk, he followed me. "But I have to clean it up." I opened the door, then sighed.

"Did you rob a clothes shop?" He grinned at me and I just wanted to open my mouth when he interrupted me. "No, let me guess ... Una." "How did?" "Call it intuition, you would never think of it, but she has a weakness for fashion and clothing." "I noticed that." I grinned. "But hey, shopping without paying has something of its own, some of which I would never have bought." I grabbed some bags and was glad he took the rest from me, but still I would have to go a second time.

"Before you say anything, I had nothing left to wear." I squinted at him. "Yes, I know, it sounds like a bad cliché, but it's true, I was in the first shop in my sports gear." "What about the black dress?" "I will not wear this anymore." I looked at him sadly. I wore it at Airiams memorial service. "I understand." There was also a brief shadow creeping over his face as we thought about it, then he shook off the sad thoughts and nudged me lightly.

"Where to store all this stuff, or can I take it to the Enterprise right now?" "What you want here, you can bring upstairs to the guest room, the rest in your." "In my quarters." I interrupted him. I just noticed what I still lacked here. "Um, how are you looking for an apartment in the 23rd century?" "Where do you want to live?" He pushed the door open with his back and gave me the lead. "Good question." I entered, looked around, then at him. "Oh wow! Here! Honestly, I'll kick you out." I stood in one of the most beautiful houses I've ever seen, and from floor to ceiling it wore what I would call its handwriting. "And you'd rather spend your time on a spaceship than here?" "I didn´t say that." He watched me, smiling, as I looked around. The entrance was at the same time the living room. It was followed by kitchens and dining room. The only separate rooms down here were a guest bathroom and his office. I had to smile as I cast a quick glance. Slightly chaotic, crammed to the ceiling with books and overall just as I expected. "Upstairs is the big bathroom, two guest rooms, and my bedroom." Chris put down the bags on the kitchen island. "I'll get the rest.” "Yes, okay." I went to the kitchen. "Take your time.”

I couldn´t see him smiling as I ran my hand over the wood on the counter. Everything here looked after him, smelled of him, it was his home, that could be seen and felt in every inch. I wondered what it looked like above. But I didn´t get that far.

"Okay, I hope you can move better in the dress than I can carry it." Chris came back, holding the bag with my ball gown in his hands. "Because that's damned awkward." "It wears like a cloud of cotton candy, so yes." I went to him. "Where can I put it down?" "I'll bring it up, or someone else will sit down later." "Do you expect anyone else?" "Um, yes." He grinned at me, then headed for the stairs and I decided to follow him. "I've been away for five years and I expect everyone who has noticed me to come back here. I also invite the crew over to have some drink."

"Wait?" We reached the upper floor. "Every 250?" "Not everyone will come by far." He pushed open the first door to his right. "I guess." "Do you?" I smiled slightly. "Anyone else I should know about?" "My parents, my sister, my brother, my nieces and nephews." "Whoa Chris." I opened my eyes. "Where are you taking them all down?" "Outside." He hung up the dress, then looked at me. "You look confused." "Do you find?" I shrugged my eyebrows. "You're planning a party." I moved my hand a little back and forth. "Let's say with three hundred people in a few hours." "I have not planned anything." He took me by the hand and pulled me downstairs again. "Sure why, it's only half a village." I still didn´t know what to think of it. "Everyone brings something along, I get some to drink and there's plenty of space and opportunities to sit."

"And you expect me to say something about that?" Not to mention that the thought of meeting his entire family and friends in a few hours made me quite nervous. "No, I don´t." He smiled at me. "I'm sorry I should have warned you, but." Chris sank his hands in the pockets of his jeans. By the way which damn good sat, but that only incidentally. "But what?" "I was scared you say no." "No, really?" I rolled my eyes. "Why should 300 strangers make me nervous?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Could have been." Then he relaxed a bit again. "Alright, feel like home." "I will." I looked after him as he went back upstairs. "What you are doing?"

"I go take a shower." "OK." No, I didn´t say what was going through my head. "Did you hide a coffee machine somewhere in this fabulous kitchen?" "Right next to the fridge." Then he disappeared and I was alone.

I made myself a coffee, then I looked around a bit. I recognized a few things again, they were some pieces he had had on Discovery. Almost automatically, my steps led me into the office. Chris liked to read, but I already knew, that he had a weakness for printed books, that didn´t really surprise me either. He had very old books, but also those that could have come from my time, which was somehow antique and then something that surprised me, a stack of records. I narrowed my eyes "That's impossible." I set my cup down, stepped to the shelf, and reached out to get to the top of the rack, but I was a few inches too small. Even when I stood on tiptoe, I didn´t get close.

As I was about to give up, a few fingers moved over mine and reached for the plate. I leaned back slightly as I sensed that Chris was standing right behind me, his fingers gliding over mine infinitely slowly, from there rapidly spreading goose bumps all over my body.

"Was that the right one?" I heard his voice right next to my ear as his breath stroked the thin skin on my neck. "Yes, thank you." I honestly didn´t care about the record. I closed my eyes as I felt his hand on my hip and he gently stroked my skin with his thumb. My heart was pounding wildly, the tingling in my stomach was even more intense and yet I needed a deep breath to turn around to him.

He looked right into my eyes, I could have instantly lost myself in it. I had looked into it so often, but this time it was different. There was a sparkle in it and my knees went soft as I realized it was there because of me. Chris took the record out of my hand and dropped it behind him, then closed his arm around me, pulling me closer. I put my hands briefly on his chest, then slowly let them walk up and put my hands around his neck. He leaned toward me, gently nibbling his nose across my cheekbone. There was only a breath left between our lips and I couldn´t resist it any longer. I overcame these few millimeters and kissed him.

For a brief moment, I felt I had taken him by surprise, then he pulled me closer and returned the kiss. I fell into this feeling, let go of what had held me back the last few weeks, and pressed myself against him as hard as I could. I didn´t want him to stop, I didn´t want to stop. He released me, then I felt him put his hands to my face and break the kiss. Chris looked at me, gently kissed my nose, my cheek, before he put his forehead against mine and closed his eyes with an incredibly relieved smile on his face.

"You know, I was right." "By which?" I was sure, I too beamed all over my face. "Once I start kissing you, I cannot stop it." And before I could say anything back, he proved to me that he was serious with this. He kissed me again and we sank into it. His lips on mine felt incredibly good, wiping away all doubt, leaving only the feeling that this was perfect and had to be the same. I slid my fingers through his hair and could not stop myself from slipping a little sigh, then he smiled into the kiss before pulling me closer to him and lifting me off the floor, then he just released himself from me, that he could look at me. His eyes glared at me, he gasped slightly, as I did, making both of us laugh.

"What will that be?" I bit my lower lip. A nonsensical question. "You can guess three times." He kissed me briefly, while he sucked gently on my lower lip. He had no idea what he was doing to me. Slowly he put me down on the ground, pulled me into a tight hug.

Then he looked right into my eyes and be it attributable to the situation or just something about him that I still had to decrypt, there was the answer to an unspoken question in it and I knew I would only need one try. I smiled at him, then slid my fingers over his stomach, grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, then slapped my arms around him and we sank in another kiss, more violent and passionate than before. Slowly I let him push me against the wall, and let my head sank back as he began to let his lips gently wander down my neck. "Chris?" I opened my eyes and he shot up as if struck by lightning. When I wanted to say something, he put a finger on my lips. We both listened and when I heard nothing, I ran my tongue over his finger. "Christopher?" He swore softly, then rolled his eyes. Slowly, he stroked my lower lip with his finger before pulling him back with a heartbreaking look. "Who is this?" "My sister." He reached out and quietly pushed the door shut a little. "Maybe she'll go again when we're quiet." "Chris, I know you're here, there's a car out there that looks like you like it, and we also made an appointment." "Shit, I forgot about this."

He sucked briefly on his lower lip, then he looked at me apologetically. "She will not rest." He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer, he closed his arms tightly around me and hugged me to him. I stroke his hair, then I kissed him again and against better knowledge he continued where we had just stopped.

"Chris, are you upstairs, I'll get you out of the shower if I have to! Mum's coming over right now and she's got the kids with her." I laughed softly. "You find that funny?" He also smiled. "Otherwise I was the annoying big sister so yes." I breathed a last kiss on his lips. "She says she's going to get you out of the shower, so she'll come in here, too." "Most likely." I felt as he stroked my back, slowly forward over my stomach. "Mmh, that's mean." I closed my eyes with a smile. "I know." He looked at me. "Remember what you wanted to do." "You can bet your spaceship on that." Then I let him go, he picked up his shirt from the floor, pulled it over and went to his sister.

I looked furtively after him and hadn´t he told me that this woman was his sister, at the latest when she laughingly closed him in her arms, I would have seen it. I was so happy with him, even more as I realized that it had been more than five years since he had held her in his arms. I had just been away from my family for a few months and missed her more than I had ever imagined. The door opened again and three children stormed in. Two boys and a little girl. I estimate her for about a year, her uncertain steps betrayed that she was just learning to walk. Chris dropped to his knees and the boys leapt at him and knocked him over with full force. Laughing, the three rolled around on the ground. "Ok guys, get off of him." But she did not seem to be serious about it. "He doesn´t need you two to demolish himself." "Oh let it be good Steph." Chris grabbed one of the guys, who squeaked and shoved him back to the floor. But he had made the calculation without nephew number two. This grabbed Chris legs, while the other sat down on his stomach. Within seconds, the two had set him checkmate and he could only lie on the ground and gasp for air.

"You forgot that the two are now five years older and bigger." "Yes, I notice that too." He laughed slightly, then looked at the little girl hiding behind his mother. "And who are you?" Big blue eyes fixed him silently, before she ran off with a little shriek. "That's Elsa." She caught the little girl again and picked it up. "Guys let Uncle Chris get up off the floor so he can meet your sister." Mauling and grumbling, the two responded to the request and then continued on through the house. "Oh man, when did the two get so strong?" Chris scrambled up from the floor, ran his fingers through his hair and headed for his sister. "Sometimes between year three and four." She turned so that he could see the girl. "Elsa, say hello to Uncle Chris."

"Hello Elsa." Chris nudged the girl to her nose, she briefly burying her face in her mother's hair before lifting her arms and reaching out to meet him. He caught her and she was still staring at him. "What a surprise." Steph grinned at him. "She likes you." "Ah yes, me too." He rocked the girl back and forth, then she started fidgeting and got him to turn her off again.

"Where is Alex?" "Australia." She looked at him. "He hopes he can do it, but he cannot promise it, you just been here for a few days and the mission comes in between." "Let's wait." He raised his eyebrows, then noticed his sister's crooked eyes. "What is?" "Nothing." She smiled like only a big sister could and I remembered what she must noticed. "The color is yours, by the way." She tapped her lip. "Hmm?" Chris wiped his lip, looked at his finger, then opened his eyes. "Just don´t think of lying to me." She pressed a kiss on his cheek. "I'll catch the rascals before they put you all out." I pushed back against the wall as she passed and hurried up the stairs where the boys were running through the rooms. Then I slowly slipped out of the office and found myself facing an unexpected butt. Elsa was standing in front of me and looked at me with her big eyes.

"Hello little lady." I squatted in front of her. "Have you met your uncle?" She held out her hand to me. "By the way, I'm Cathrin." She smiled broadly, then she fumbled away again. When I straightened up, Chris was standing in front of me. I smiled at him.

"Yes, I wear lipstick, I bought today before I knew I needed the kiss proof." I ran a thumb over his lips, still glued to the pink lipstick. "But yes, it fits you." "If you say so." He took my hand. "Okay, that was just a foretaste, my family is extremely warm, affectionate, loud and knows absolutely no fear of personal limits." I smiled as he looked up at me from below. "I guess you have two minutes to get away."

"Or?" "Or." He pulled me into his arms. "You kiss me again, take a deep breath and somehow try to survive that." "I've been through a lot." I leaned against him, kissed him, then smiled at him. "I can do that with my left."

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summahsunlight · 4 years

Text

This Way Became My Journey, Ch. 7

Word count: 3506

Pairings: Janeway/Chakotay, Paris/OC

The Val Jean and Voyager had entered a stranded orbit around the fifth planet where their new friend had informed them that they would find the Ocampa. Captain Janeway had made preparations for an away team to beam down to the surface to search for Torres and Kim and had ordered Sarah Barrett, who had been given the pleasure of being their guest's escort, to retrieve their guest and bring him to the transporter room. For the most part she had spent it running him around the ship to see absolutely everything. He talked nonstop and constantly was asking questions about how the ship worked. Sarah's best skills were not in engineering but she managed to answer them to the best of her limited abilities. The whole ordeal had been utterly exhausting and it wasn't even past noon yet.

She tapped at the panel outside their guest's quarters to let him know she was there, but there was no response. Using her security clearance she opened the door.

"Hello?" Sarah called out as she stepped into the quarters that had been assigned to Neelix. "Mister Neelix?"

She glanced around the room and caught sight of the dinning table. There were several vases of water stacked on top of each other like children's blocks and plates of half eaten food every where. Glancing astonished at the sight, she leaned down to get a better look, allowing her sapphire eyes to study each vase. Mister Neelix must not have seen a replicator before today.

From the bathroom she could hear singing, although it wasn't words, just sounds, and she could hear the splashing of water. Straightening up, she turned about and stepped inside the bathroom, and immediately shut her eyes. Neelix was in the bathtub, soaking in a mountain of bubbles, and had no qualms about her walking in on him. "Sir?" she asked, nervously.

"Ah, Miss Barrett! Come in! Please, come in! I can hardly see your pretty face!" Neelix said happily from the tub. Sarah stepped into the room further but did not open her eyes. "I want to thank you for your hospitality, Miss Barrett. I must admit, I've never had access to a food… repmala...replicator before."

Sarah swallowed hard. "Really? I would never have guessed that."

"And to immerse my self in water, do you know what joy this is?" Neelix grabbed for another large vase of water and poured it down his throat, not caring if he wasted any. "No one around here wastes water in this manner," he told her, "a good sand scrub, that's the best we can hope for."

"I'm happy that you're having a grand time, but we've just arrived at the fifth planet. Captain Janeway needs your assistance," Sarah replied. She heard some splashing about in the water and assumed that the sounds were caused because Neelix stood up.

"Oh, could you hand me the towel," he asked her.

If it wasn't so hot in that room her face probably would have paled. "What?"

"The towel, Miss Barrett, oh don't be shy! I don't bite!"

"It's not you biting me that I'm worried about," Sarah said, reaching out with her hands and feeling for the towel. When she found it she grasped it tightly and held it out to her side. She heard Neelix move about as he snatched the towel from her hand.

The alien began wrapping the towel about his body and drying off, not bothered at all that he was wearing only a towel in the presence of a stranger. "On the large southern continent you'll find a range of extinct volcanoes. Follow the foothills north until you discover a dry riverbed. You'll find an encampment there."

For some reason she got the feeling that Neelix was leading them in a different direction for his own purposes, but she did not speak up about it, not yet anyways. "Do you think that's where our people are?"

"It's not impossible," Neelix replied. Again there was a rippling of a feeling that he was lying to her. "Maybe… perhaps not, but we will find them. We'll need several containers of water to bring, for barter of course." He eyed her science blue uniform for a moment and his finger traced her combadge in midair. "Do these replicators make clothing as well?"

"Yes," she said simply, finally feeling safe to open her eyes.

"Well it make me a uniform like yours?"

"No, it will not," She lied, " However I suggest that you dress quickly. I'll inform Captain Janeway of what you just told me."

Neelix went off to get dressed and Sarah nearly ran out of the quarters. Once out in the safe confines of the corridor she tapped her combadge. "Barrett to Janeway."

"Janeway here."

"I've just spoken to Mister Neelix. He says that we should travel to the southern continent, apparently there is an encampment near a dried up river bed," Sarah told her commanding officer. "He also recommended that we have several containers of water to use for barter. Captain, I get the feeling that he is not being entirely truthful with us, but perhaps we'll get more answers when we beam down to the surface."

"Understood; I want you and Mister Neelix to meet us in Transporter Room Two."

"Yes ma'am," Sarah replied as the doors to Neelix's quarters swished open. The alien stepped out wearing a colorful patterned suit. "Mister Neelix and I are ready. We'll meet you in Transporter Room Two, Barrett out." She tapped her combadge and then remembered she had something to give their guest. She held her hand out, in it was another silver and gold combadge, the same one that she had on her uniform.

"This if for you Neelix. It's so we can keep track of you, just in case anything goes wrong down there. It also allows you to communicate with Voyager directly," Sarah placed it in his palm. "Don't lose it, it could mean your life," she told him as she turned away and began to make for the turbo lift.

"My life?" Neelix sputtered. "What kind of missions do you Federation go on anyways?"

She chuckled as they stepped inside the lift. "Deck Four," she told the computer.

Neelix was nervously placing the combadge onto his suit jacket. "This is just a safety precaution right? I mean, you were joking when you said that this could mean my life?"

"No, I wasn't," Sarah replied as the lift came to a halt and the doors opened. "This is so we will have the ability to transport you off the planet at a moment's notice. Sometimes that moment could be just before the room you're in explodes. The chances of that happening though are slim, I wouldn't worry about it."

He didn't look entirely convinced as they stepped into the transporter room. Janeway was waiting there with Chakotay, Paris, and Tuvok. Neelix looked even more nervous when Janeway instructed Sarah to arm her self. These people were not taking the situation lightly, and they shouldn't, not for where Neelix was about to take them. The phasers were probably a good thing to be carrying. But the presences of their weapons might complicate his plan.

"Alright, let's get moving," Janeway ordered the group. They all got on the transporter pad swiftly and once they were all in place, Janeway gave the transporter chief the order to energize.

They rematerialized in what would be the equivalent of no where on Earth. There was no plant life to speak of, it was dry and hot, the sun beating down on their backs. It was a desert just like all their scans had told them, yet it was more desolate than any of them could have imagined. Turning about, Janeway and her away team saw the encampment that Neelix had told them about. Several alien ships were parked near by, and she could see beings crying out in shock at their sudden appearance and run back towards the settlement.

Janeway looked over her shoulder at Neelix, who stepped up to her side. They began walking towards the settlement while Tom Paris remarked, "Why would anyone want to live in a place like this?"

"The rich cormaline deposits are very much in demand," Neelix answered him, his orange eyes scanning the settlement, as if he was looking for someone particular.

"Do the Ocampa use it for barter?" Chakotay asked.

"Not the Ocampa, the Kazon-Ogla," Neelix said.

"The Kazon-Ogla, who are the Kazon-Ogla?" Janeway asked, confused.

Neelix gestured towards the settlement that they were walking towards. "They are." A group of Kazon had gathered at the entrance of the settlement, some were brandishing weapons, cautiously watching as the group of Starfleet officers, a Maquis commander, and a Talaxian trader came closer to their home. They resembled klingons in appearance, with cranial ridges and darker pigmented skin, the most common appearing to be a copper tone. They had dark hair that grew in chunks or was specifically parted in several places, perhaps, Janeway thought, as some form of hierarchy.

"I thought you were taking us to the Ocampa?" Barrett asked, walking alongside Janeway. She had known Neelix was lying to them and even though she had told the Captain she had such feelings, she had not insisted that they wait until they knew of Neelix's true motives. Now they could be walking into a dangerous situation that had very little to do with Harry Kim and B'Elanna Torres. "When we asked that you take us to the Ocampa, we meant we wanted to be taken to the Ocampa, not on a detour."

"The Kazon sects control this part of the quadrant," Neelix informed Janeway, ignoring Barrett. "Some have food some have water, they all trade and they all kill each other for it."

They had made it to the gathering of Kazon. Janeway, like Barrett, wasn't too pleased that she had been misled. "I thought you said the Ocampa had our people?"

The Kazon closed in around them, the group was pressed tightly together as Neelix cried out, "My friends! It's good to see you again!" The aliens weren't too happy to see him however, scooping him up and carrying him away while the others took the away team's weapons, pushing them all to the ground. Neelix was thrown against a wall, the group that had grabbed him snarling at him.

"I must speak with your Maje," Neelix said, "the ever wise Jabin!" The Kazon cocked their weapons at him as another Kazon made their way across a balcony above them, stirred by the noise of the mob. Neelix spotted him and cried out, "Jabin!"

The newcomer didn't look pleased to see Neelix as he made his way down towards the group. The away team began to feel nervous, more so than they already were. Things were not going quite as they had planned they were going to go. Neelix was still sputtering away, hoping that the Kazon whose guns were trained on him wouldn't fire. "Water Jabin! I have water! To replace all that I borrowed! Show them Mister Paris," he cried desperately.

Tom reached into the knapsack that he was carrying and produced a small canteen of water, holding it out to Jabin. The Kazon snatched the canteen up as Neelix told them that the ship they came on could make water out of thin air. Jabin opened the canteen and sniffed its contents before taking a large sip of the precious liquid. He handed the canteen off to the person nearest him, dark eyes looking at Paris, the closest male to him, and asked, "You have more?"

Janeway tapped her combadge. "Janeway to Voyager. Energize." Two large containers appeared out of nowhere to the Kazon and they quickly grabbed whatever they could to go and gather the water up, completely forgetting about Neelix. Jabin watched astounded as his people moved towards the large containers. "There's more where that came from, if you can help us." Even though Neelix had led them to the Kazon and not the Ocampa, Janeway was going to make best of the situation.

Jabin looked at her. "How can we help someone so powerful that they can create water out of thin air?"

Janeway eyed Neelix for a moment. "This man lead us here suggesting that we might find a people called the Ocampa," she noticed that a girl, with short cropped blonde hair, and pointed ears, had appeared near by where Neelix was standing. She looked like she had been beaten and it made Janeway's skin crawl. "Do you know where they are?"

The Kazon leader looked at Janeway curiously. "Ocampa?" he repeated before turning about and pointing towards the girl that was standing a ways behind Neelix. "She is Ocampa! Why would you be interested in such worthless creatures? They only live nine years. They make poor servants; we caught her when she wandered to the surface."

"To the surface? You mean they live underground?" Janeway questioned.

"The entity in space that gives them food and power, also gives them sole access to this planet's only source of water, two miles below the surface," Jabin answered, pointing towards the energy pulses that were going towards the mountains.

"This same entity has abducted two of our people," Janeway replied. "We believe that they might be with the Ocampa."

"There's no way to get to them, we've tried," Jabin answered, lowering his body down to be at eye level with Janeway. "The entity has established some kind of subterranean barrier, we cannot penetrate."

Barrett and Chakotay were thinking the same thing, but Chakotay voiced it first, "But she got out."

"Occassionally some of them do find their way to the surface. We don't know how, but the Ocampa seal the tunnels afterwards," Jabin said, stuffing all of their weapons onto his own belt.

"Maybe she can help these good people find a way down," Neelix offered a bit too slyly for the likes of Janeway or Barrett. He was up to something and they both hoped that it wasn't going to cost them.

Jabin laughed, and then snarled, "You'd be wasting your time. I've used ever method of persuasion I know to get her to help us. She won't!"

"She's worthless to you! Let us trade you water for this scrawny little thing," Neelix replied.

"I'd be more interested in obtaining this technology that allows you to create water out of thin air," Jabin said.

Janeway made eye contact with Barrett. Protocol didn't exactly forbid Janeway to share technologly, if it was in fair trade and a benefit to the people receiving it, however, the Captain didn't know much about the Kazon, and therefore felt uncomfortable about giving them access to Federation technology. "That would be difficult," Janeway answered, truthfully. "It's integrated into our ship's systems."

No sooner had the words left her mouth, than did Neelix suddenly run forward and grab Jabin. He was holding a small phaser that could be concealed in the palm of your hand and the away team was shocked when it was produced. "Tell them to drop their weapons!" Neelix ordered Jabin, jabbing the phaser in the fleshy part of the Kazon's neck.

"Do it!" Jabin cried. The Kazon who had rushed to his rescue put their weapons down.

The away team jumped to their feet, Chakotay retrieving all of their weapons from Jabin's belt. Each member pointed the phaser at the group of Kazon, but kept the setting on stun. Janeway only hoped that they could get out of there without any weapons firing.

There was going to be no such luck. Neelix pushed Jabin away from him and pointed his own weapon right at the containers of water, warning the Kazon to get out of the way. He then fired the weapon, puncturing the water containers. The liquid came gushing out and the Kazon rushed to get what they could before it all emptied out and was sucked up by the dry ground.

The Ocampa girl was joining them now, as instructed by Neelix. "I strongly suggest that you get us out of here," he implored to Janeway, who tapped her combadge and told Voyager to beam them all up.

Once on the safety of the transporter pad, Janeway and the rest of the away team put their weapons away, making their way off the transporter pad. No one was really paying attention to Neelix and the Ocampa, until they heard Neelix say, "My dearest, didn't I promise I'd save you."

Tuvok frowned, Paris and Chakotay looked amused, while Janeway looked at the couple,shocked. Barrett, on the other hand, wasn't too surprised, she had a feeling before that Neelix had another plan other than leading them to the Ocampa, but rescuing a lover was not what had been at the top of her list of things he could possibly be doing.

"Perhaps we should get our new guest to sickbay," Tuvok suggested, leading Neelix and the Ocampa girl off of the transporter pad.

When they were gone Janeway looked at Barrett. "Do you believe his sole purpose for helping us was to help her?"

Barrett nodded her head. "Yes, he was probably looking for ways to help her escape the Kazon and were were plopped in his lap, needing to get to the the fifth planet and with far superior technology than anyone in this sector of space."

Janeway shook her head. She wasn't about to let Neelix's little deception of them slid; he was going to help them now whether he liked it or not. "Let's prepare another away mission to the planet, only this time we're going to the Ocampa and no detours. Maybe the girl we just helped rescue will feel slightly inclined to help us in return. Let's go join our guests in sickbay."

Paris, Chakotay, and Barrett followed the Captain out of the transporter room and made their way to the turbo lift. When they arrived in sickbay they found the Doctor cleaning the young Ocampa up, healing the cuts and bruises on her face, and Tuvok scolding Neelix, like he was one of the Vulcan's children.

"If you had told us what you had planned, we might have anticipated your irrational behavior," the Vulcan was saying, in a crisp even tone.

"Irrational? We got out of there didn't we?" Neelix snapped.

"Barely," Barrett muttered under her breath as the young Ocampa sat up on the biobed. Janeway flashed her a warning glare. She knew enough about her new commanding officer that the look meant it was time to keep her mouth shut. Pressing her lips together, she moved back a little, allowing Janeway to take the lead.

"Excuse me," the Ocampa said. "Don't blame Neelix."

The Doctor looked annoyed as the group closed in around the surgical biobed. "That's enough; this is a sick bay not a conference room. Everyone except my patient is to leave immediately."

Janeway voiced the words that both Barrett and Paris wanted too. "Computer, end medical holographic program." The Doctor gave her a surprised look before he disappeared, dropping an instrument on the floor. Janeway inched her way closer to the biobed, her arms crossed firmly over her chest.

"I never should have gone to the surface, I'm too curious," the Ocampa said as the Captain put the palms of her hands on the biobed. "I'm told it's my worst failing."

Neelix shook his head. "No no, it's a wonderful quality, you're most endearing."

"Would you be willing to take us underground to look for our missing crew?" Janeway asked her hopefully.

"I'm afraid that Jabin was right, there's no way to get down. The tunnel I came out has been sealed."

"We don't need a tunnel. We have the ability to transport there directly," Janeway told her. The girl looked genuinely curious at this statement.

"Captain," Tuvok's voice came from somewhere behind Janeway, "our sensors didn't pick up any indication of an underground civilization, the subterranean barrier that Jabin described maybe responsible. It might also block our transporter."

"There are breaches in the security barrier where it's begun to decay. That's how I got out."

Janeway mulled over her next course of action and turned to look at Tuvok. "Have the transporter room began a sweep for any breaches that we might be able to transport through." The Vulcan nodded his head and left the room, the door hissing shut behind him.

"Kes can tell you where to go, but now that she's free, we're leaving this system together," Neelix told Janeway. The Captain realized that was the first time she had ever heard the girl's name.

"Neelix," Kes said, forcefully. "These people rescued me."

"I rescued you!" Neelix replied, hotly.

"With their help; it would be wrong not to help them now."

Janeway smiled and ordered everyone, including Neelix and Kes back to the transporter room, and to prepare for another journey down to the planet, this time, however, they would be going underground.

#star trek voyager #star trek voyager fanfiction #kathryn janeway #chakotay #tom paris #sarah barrett (oc)#b'elanna torres #harry kim #neelix #kes #the doctor (emh)#janeway x chakotay #tom paris x ofc

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