#anyways.. i shared more specific simple step by step instructions for how to do That.

[kuromi-hoemie]

being an it manager for 4 offices is emailing someone less than 5 very specific, short, straightforward steps on how to do something trivial on a computer and sitting there in bewilderment when u get a response with them at an inconceivably different outcome like?? 😭 if u were in my office i could just walk over n show u but also WHAT are u talking about.

[lcksndkys]

Pairing: JJK x reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: smut, fluff, tiny hint of angst

Word count: ~8k

Summary: Save a drum, bang a drummer. 

Warnings: one tasteful semi-nude sext, brief flashback of male masturbation, discussions about conception, an unholy amount of nipple play, blowjob, fingering, pussy slapping with a dick (but like, romantically), unprotected sex within an established relationship, multiple orgasms, creampie

A/N: This is my first attempt at creative writing… ever. Borne from my horny imagination and a thirst dream, this piece is an epilogue of sorts. S/o to @jinpanman ​ and @wwilloww ​ for being the wind beneath my wings and the floaties around my arms. Also, big thanks to Willow who made the banner <3

There are two things you know are happening tonight. One: Beyond the Scene is out celebrating the completion of their newest EP. Two: your husband, the drummer of Beyond, is going to come home, high off the adrenaline of a successful night, and fuck you into oblivion. Your period tracking app that you both have been studiously monitoring over the last few months has notified you that you were going to be ovulating over the next couple of days. 

You slip into one of Jungkook’s oversized cut-off tanks and a pair of crotchless black lace panties that you know he likes. Checking in the mirror, you see a generous view of side-boob due to the cut of his shirt and you turn around and decide to forgo bottoms entirely—they’ll be discarded soon anyways. Your husband may be out with the boys tonight, but you’re determined to wait up for him. It’s not that late after all. You roll over, pulling a bottle of lube from the nightstand and set it out for later.

Lying in your shared bed, you check your phone again, reading the last messages you sent to each other.

[9:51pm] Jungkook-ah: i’ll be home late babe. dont wait up. love you.

[9:54pm] You: … but i’m ovulating today. I want you.

You haven’t heard from him since. Tapping to the camera icon on your phone, you decide to send a little more encouragement. You quickly snap a photo of your torso covered in his shirt, making sure to give a tasteful glimpse of your ensemble. 

[11:39pm] Jungkook-ah: fcuk. dont temnt meee idk when ill  b home

You sigh. He's definitely drunk which means that even if he did come home soon, he’d be too wasted to finish the job, more likely to fall asleep seconds after washing up. Tossing your phone onto your pillow, you roll to Jungkook’s side of the bed. Breathing in his clean, slightly sweet scent, you let it comfort you as your eyes close. Your mind drifts off to the first time you ever saw Jungkook as a man. 

Sprawled out on a twin sized bed, there was barely enough space for the two of you. Propped against the headboard and wearing nothing but a smile, he laced his fingers behind his head and cockily encouraged you to take pictures. “They’ll last longer,” he had said. Cheeky brat. You had instructed him to pleasure himself as you watched. “Tell me what you think of when you touch yourself, Koo” to which he replied, “You in my clothes with nothing on underneath”. He had whined, panting and desperate to hold off his climax with the hopes that he might get to feel you wrapped around him. 

You made him promise that night would be a one off; an itch scratched. And above all, he wasn’t to speak of that night to anyone, especially his sister- your best friend. At the time, an emotional relationship was not something you were ready to pursue. And certainly not with someone so intimately linked to your inner circle. So when it happened again, and then again, you proposed an easy benefits-only relationship to which he quietly accepted. You didn’t know he had been secretly yearning for something you could not yet give him. Despite trying to push him and your emotions away, Jungkook persisted, and with time and patience, you let him into your heart and let him show you the meaning of true love. 

With a love-sick smile plastered on your face, you drift off to sleep, plans for tonight all but forgotten.

_______________________________________________

Eyes still closed and hanging on to the quickly fading wisps of your dreams, you unconsciously feel around the sheets for your husband. When your hands come across nothing but layers of bedsheet and blankets and the lingering warmth of Jungkook’s body heat, you roll over seeking the comfort of his embrace. 

Sitting up, you see that he must’ve moved you during the night towards your side of the bed before climbing in behind you. Realizing you’re still in his shirt and the sexy panties from last night, you huff out a groan of annoyance. 

You get out of bed and make the short trek to your bathroom to wash up. Jungkook never missed an opportunity to “practice” baby making. The thought that he was avoiding a session in the sheets with you makes you press the bristles harshly against your teeth. 

Upon returning to your bedroom, you see that at some point Jungkook had plugged your phone in to charge. You open up your app and double check that you’re still within short the ovulation window. 

The shuffling of slippers alerts you to your husband elsewhere in your shared apartment. As you leave in search of him, you notice he had put the bottle of lube away. 

Padding out towards the kitchen, you can hear the tinkling of dishware and cutlery. The smell of toast floats through the air as you spot Jungkook at the counter pouring his cereal into a bowl of milk. Endearing. You smile, remembering he once reasoned that adding cereal to milk ensures you won’t be left with any soggy bits. 

Coming up behind him, he startles a little with your quiet arrival. You wrap your arms around his middle, pressing a light kiss between his shoulder blades, and nuzzling your face against the wide expanse of his back.

“I missed you last night, baby,” you coo. 

Turning in your embrace, Jungkook wraps one arm around your shoulders and uses a pointer finger to gently tilt your head, aligning your mouth to his. He leans down to give you a sweet, chaste kiss in greeting before pulling away. 

“I’m sorry I was out late. But I’ll make it up to you ok?”

“How about you make it up to me right now?” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively, stepping back from his grasp. 

His eyes rake up and down your figure, pausing to take in the long expanse of skin showing from under his cut-off tank. You turn your torso slightly, lifting your arms up overhead to smooth back your bed head, allowing him a generous view of your tits through the large armholes. You smirk to yourself knowing this simple outfit is one of his favorites on you. 

“- oh, fuck,” Jungkook breathes, feeling the beginnings of desire stir in his sleep pants.

“I was so ready for you last night,” you continue, planting your hands behind you on the kitchen counter opposite of Jungkook. With a hop, you sit yourself upon the cold hard surface and try not to cringe at the sudden change of temperature on your bare rump.

You beckon towards your husband with a crook of your finger. 

“I even wore one of your favorites,” you purr. Slowly trailing a hand towards your hip you pull the hem of your—well, his—shirt up, exposing some of the black lace panties you had worn. 

Jaw clenched and brow furrowed. You enjoy Jungkook’s rapt attention.

“Come closer” you plead. 

When he shows no sign of approaching, you lean back onto your elbows and prop one foot onto the countertop. Parting your legs, you smile victoriously when Jungkook’s eyes drop immediately to your exposed core. Thank goodness for crotchless panties.

His throat constricts at the sight of your pussy, framed in black lace, and bared lewdly for him. 

“Fuck,” he growls lowley. You watch his throat bob again swallowing down a moan. He looks from your eyes, to your lips, and down between your thighs. Cock hardening, his desire rises hot and heady at the sight of you glistening before him.

Seeing him grow in the unforgiving fabric of his grey sweatpants, you grin at his visceral reaction. “You know I’m ovulating, right?” You bring your other foot up onto the counter further spreading yourself out for him. “Fuck me, baby. Fill me up with your cum.” A little dirty talk was nearly always enough encouragement to get your husband started.

Doe eyes wide, he is torn between his carnal desires to ravish you on the countertop and his mounting emotional distress. 

When your husband doesn’t immediately react to your proposition, you know something is wrong. You hop off the counter and come to wrap around him. Jungkook has always been a shy boy, and as he got older, grew into a reserved man. He had a small social circle, knowing first hand that some people had no qualms with using him for his services. He was the golden boy. Jungkook was good at things and always has been- drums, sports, computers, video games, writing music, singing, sex. Many people sought to use him and had gotten away with it. And at first, he was eager to please; to prove himself worthy of the attention. But it wasn’t long before he grew cautious and began to keep a selective few close, including you. 

You've always seen him. And you see him now, eyes tight with emotion he's been holding back from you. He hasn't done that in years. 

Your arousal from earlier has all but dried up, evaporated with the sense that something important is weighing on Jungkook. 

"Do you need me to listen or find a solution?" you ask him. 

"Listen" he replies softly. 

You take his hand, leading him towards the couch. Sitting down, you part your legs pulling his back to your front. You wrap all four limbs around him and lay back to let his weight press the both of you into the cushions. His hands immediately go to stroke along the soft skin of your shins. You tuck your face into his nape, ghosting soft kisses along the skin available to you. Holding him against you, you feel Jungkook slowly melt, head leaning back against your shoulder. You know he’ll speak when he's ready.

“I just… Lately I’ve been feeling like you only want a specific part of me,” says Jungkook quietly. His hands go to tuck back some of his hair behind his ears- a nervous tell he's never been able to kick. "And I guess it kind of reminded me of the time from before we officially got together, ya know?" 

You feel your heart crumble in your chest at his admission. At that time, you weren’t ready for what Jungkook wanted to give you, convinced that the age gap and BTS’s rising fame would ultimately lead to disaster. Thus you had pushed for a purely physical relationship. He had agreed mistakenly believing that having your body, but not your mind or heart, was better than not having you at all. He hoped that time and love would help you change your mind. Luckily for both of you, it did. 

You want to say something to comfort him, but you remember he asked you to listen. You stay quiet, giving him a safe space to speak.

"And I know we're trying for a baby, but lately there's no intimacy when you make love to me. It's like once I finish, it's over and you push me away to lay with your legs up against the wall." 

You feel his ribs expand as he takes a deep breath, and then another. In, then out. 

"You know how important aftercare is to me," he continues. You do know. Jungkook is a romantic; being held and praised for a job well done has always been just as important as the actual act of sex for him. "And if you're just trying to fuck me, I don't know if I want it." 

There's a few moments of pause.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to have sex?” you ask softly. 

Jungkook’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “No! I mean- I want it, trust me, I want you. But the last few times, it felt like you just fucked me until I came.” Jungkook goans. “You didn’t even finish. Makes me feel like a bad lover."

You cringe remembering that the last time you had been intimate with your husband, you straddled him and then rode him fast and hard until he spilled his seed inside you. The whole ordeal lasted 3 minutes tops, and then you were rolling off him onto your back leaving him to clean up on his own. 

Sensing he was finished, you start to apologize. “I had no idea you felt that way,” you start. “I never meant for you to feel that way. I’m sorry.”

“I just- I love you so much, and I would give anything to make you happy,” he says quietly. His hands continue to absentmindedly traverse the length of your legs.

Your hold around him tightens, a silent I love you. 

“What do you wanna do today, baby? Today’s all about you,” you promise. You’re ready to give your husband the attention he craves. 

“Anything?” Jungkook asks, craning his head back to meet your gaze.

“Mhmm.”

Jungkook smiles, pleased with your enthusiasm. 

“I promise you I’ll give you a creampie, but can we please just play super smash bros first?”

Seeing the child-like wonder in your husband’s eyes, you can’t help but chuckle at him. Jungkook has always been easy to please and competitive to a fault. 

“Sure, Kook-ah. Maybe I’ll even let you beat me” you joke, fingers digging into his ribs causing him to laugh and squirm from your grasp. 

Jungkook unwinds your legs from around his waist to set up the gaming console. 

_______________________________________________

After several rounds of super smash bros, Jungkook has other ideas in his mind. Pulling you onto his lap, you’re forced to part your legs to straddle him. He fingers along the hem of your shirt pulling up the backside to expose your bare ass. 

“Ah, you wore these for me?” he asks, hand rubbing circles along your quickly heating flesh. 

“Depends. Are you ready to take them off me?” you retort with a wink. 

Giggling, Jungkook lunges for you, wrapping his strong arms around you and burying his head into your neck. You feel the gentle pressure of his lips suckling and tilt your head further back to grant him more access to the sensitive skin of your neck.

He laps against your throat, making you moan out in satisfaction. Your arousal starts to leak onto Jungkook’s grey sweats as you absentmindedly grind your bare cunt against the stiffness growing there.

“Mmm, fuck. Let’s go” you pant, urgently tapping at Jungkook’s shoulder.  

Walking into the bedroom, Jungkook slowly lowers you down to the ground, letting your front drag along his, your soft curves trailing along the firm planes of his chest. The moment your feet touch down, you gently press a hand against his chest- right over his thrumming heart- and encourage him to sit at the edge of your bed. His eyes gaze lovingly up into yours, a small smile hanging on his lips, waiting for your instruction. 

You tug at the hem of his shirt. “Can you take this off, baby?” 

Jungkook eagerly nods, licking his lips in anticipation. He reaches back, hooking his fingers into the neckline of his collar and pulling his stupidly oversized shirt over his head in one swift motion. For a second, he lets you admire his body. He works hard to achieve his physique and enjoys knowing you’re your attraction towards him has never waned. 

You swallow down a groan as your eyes trail from his chest, dusky nipples pebbled with arousal, down his abdominals, towards the bulge in his sweats. Your husband is a beautiful man, inside and out, and he is all yours. Tonight and forever.

Climbing into his lap, you straddle him and cup his face between your hands. Jungkook needs emotional intimacy, and you’re prepared to deliver.

You kiss his forehead. “I love the way you think. You’re quiet, but so clever, and I wish more people could see how your brain works. You’re considerate of other people and so fucking humble, qualities I really admire about you.”

Moving down to his eyes, you place twin kisses over his closed eyelids. “I love the way you see the world. When I’m tired, you remind me that there is so much beauty in the mundane, and I’m so lucky to see it all by your side.”

You reach down for his hands and press your lips along the knuckles of both his hands. “I love the life you’ve helped build for and with me. People always say you’re good at everything, but they don’t see how hard you work to earn it. I respect you so much for that.” You play with his fingers- somehow long and delicate, but strong at the same time- and lace them together.

“I love your nose,” you continue, pecking the tip. 

“But-”

“No interruptions, Jungkook” you hold up a hand, effectively cutting him off. “I know you’ve always thought it was a little too big and round when we were younger, but it shows how much you’ve grown into yourself over the years. You are so sexy- both on the stage and off.”

You pull back in time to see him fighting down a shy smile at your praise. “Besides, a man should have a big nose,” you wink. Unable to hide his toothy smile or blushing cheeks, you continue.

“I love these cheeks,” you say, planting sloppy kisses over his face. “When you smile - a real, genuine smile- your whole face lights up. I hope our children inherit that.”

You plant more against the beauty marks on the bridge of his nose and under his lip, on the faint scar high on his cheek. “So beautiful,” you murmur against his skin.

“These are my favorite lips. You were the first man that I believed when you told me you loved me.” You press your lips against his, kissing him gently. Tilting your head for a better angle, you press forward more ardently, and part your lips further to slide your tongue against his.

When you pull back, Jungkook’s eyes are still closed, face craning forward to chase your kiss. You card your fingers through his hair and push him back enough to look into his eyes again. 

Your lips continue their loving path down his face, nipping along his sharp jawline and down his neck, paying special attention to his sensitive pulse point. Jungkook whimpers in appreciation encouraging you to work color into his skin. 

“Most of all, I love your heart.” Your arms wrap around his torso, hands caressing up and down his back as your head tips down to press your mouth against his chest, just left of center. “You are patient and kind and romantic. You show me every day what true love means, and I am forever grateful for that. You have all of me, and you always will. And tonight, I want to make you feel good because I love every part of you. Even the parts you don’t particularly like yourself.”

You continue to leave wet kisses along his clavicles and throat making him moan quietly.

“Lay back for me, baby” you say, and he allows you to push him onto his back.

Your body follows him down prone on the bed, allowing your comforting weight to settle atop him and press him into the sheets. Linking your hands, you bring them up to rest by his head. You reconnect and kiss him senseless, lips and tongues moving seamlessly in a dance well practiced over the years. You continue until he’s whining, until you feel him thickening further in his pants. 

Lips descending downwards, you continue a fiery trail along his jawline, hands caressing his neck and chest to maximize his pleasure. Evidence of your love blooms down his neck as you continue a path towards his chest. Perched on his lap, you grind against him as you take a nipple between your lips and begin to suck.

“A-ahh fuck”, Jungkook pants as your lips wrap more securely around his pebbled bud, tongue flicking against him. Your other hand rakes along his other pectoral, thumb catching along its twin and you rub circles over him with your thumb. His cock, which had begun to throb when you love bombed him, is now fattening with arousal.                                                                                

You trail your lips across his chest making sure to provide equal attention to his sensitive buds. Dusky and shining with your saliva, you continue down his abs, licking the contours of his hard earned muscles. Jungkook continues to quietly moan at the sensation of your soft, warm mouth slowly moving south along his body.

Sitting up a bit from his supine figure, you tug down at the band of his sweatpants. “Can I take these off?” you ask, slipping your fingertips into the waistline of his bottoms. He nods his consent and you push them down as he lifts his hips up, effectively removing Jungkook’s remaining piece of clothing. 

As you move to stand from his lap, he immediately sits up as if pained by any distance between your bodies. You give him one last, sweet kiss on the mouth before settling down on your knees between his spread legs. His cock, perfectly framed between powerful thighs, is hardening rapidly and attempting to defy gravity as it bobs in the space between your bodies. Licking your lips at the sight of his leaking length, you settle on the floor and reach for his base.

“Hold on” he says, stopping you to reach across the bed and pulling his pillow from under the covers offering it to you for comfort. Your heart swells at his consideration and you accept it gratefully. You place it under your knees for an added cushion and make yourself comfortable on the ground.

Maintaining eye contact you run your hands up and down his thick thighs letting your fingernails lightly scratch along the sensitive skin there. Each pass brings you closer and closer to his cock, subtly twitching in eagerness to feel you wrapped around him. Keeping your eyes locked on his, you wrap a hand around his base and feel him harden fully in your grasp. Bringing your lips down to his weeping tip, you run your tongue up and down his slit, then slowly in a circle around the engorged head leaving a ring of precum and saliva in your wake.

“F-uuuck” Jungkook keens as you continue to tease him with your tongue. “Please. More, please.” 

Your lips immediately close around him, surrounding his throbbing cock with the wet heat of your mouth and begin to suck tasting his musky flavor. Popping off, you run your tongue up and down to spread moisture along his shaft; your hand will have to cover what your throat cannot take. He is not profoundly large, but he is more than thick and long enough to satisfy you.

Unable to mask his desire, Jungkook pants as your mouth works up and down his rigid length. You take him as deep as you can tolerate, gagging lightly when you feel him slide down the back of your throat with each pass. The hand not grasping his base is rubbing soothing circles along his hip and inner thigh, amplifying his pleasure.

“Mmm yeah, you’re doing so g-good,” he groans as you continue bobbing, hand furiously pumping whatever won’t fit in your mouth. He weaves his fingers into your hair, encouraging you to take him deeper into the depths of your throat. Eyes starting to water, his other hand wipes at the tears in your lash line as you continue to enthusiastically blow him. 

Jungkook’s volume steadily increases along with the pace of your mouth and hand as you work over his cock. You continue to suck him off sending white hot pleasure through his veins. “Oh shit- shit.” Jungkook stops you as his impending orgasm begins to crest. “You need to stop, or I’ll cum” he breathes out. Though your mouth is no longer on him, your hand continues to slowly jerk him off.

“Aren’t you ovulating?” he tries to confirm with you. “I need to put it in you,” he insists, teeth clenching together as your hand glides up and down the full length of his dick twisting your wrist with each upstroke.

“Tonight is all about you - about us,” you shake your head. “I want to make you feel good. Can I do that?” you ask as your other hand travels from his hip to cup and gently fondle his balls.

He whimpers in pleasure as you continue to stroke him.

“Do you want to cum in my mouth tonight, baby?” you purr. No longer able to formulate a coherent sentence, he nods his head aggressively.

“Good boy,” you tease with a smirk. Your mouth returns to his cock and joins the hand pumping his shaft. Years of learning each other’s bodies has taught you the tell tale signs of your husband’s orgasms and you can tell he’s close. Very close.

Hollowing out your cheeks, you apply the suction you know he has never been able to resist. You’re determined to suck his soul from his body, gripping him firmly as you furiously work his throbbing length exactly the way you know he likes. Your mouth focuses on his mushroomed head, lips sealed around the tip and tongue lapping against the sensitive frenulum.

Jungkook desperately tries to stave off his release to linger in the wet heat of your mouth. It’s been a while since he’s allowed himself to finish down your throat and he wants to savor it. “Ah, I’m so mad that you’re so good at this” he groans, earning a muted giggle from you. Stuffed full of cock, the vibration sends a thrill up his spine. 

You know Jungkook’s cumming before he can warn you. It starts with a subtle lifting of his balls as they prepare to empty into your eager mouth. Eyes squeezed shut and moaning wantonly, he chants your name over and over as he begins to orgasm. You continue your determined ministrations as his shaft pulses in your grasp.

“Hmmmph- ahh, fuck yes! Oh fuck, so good,” Jungkook whimpers as ribbons of cum burst across your tongue and hit the back of your throat. You quickly swallow his load as he erupts into your mouth. You continue stroking and sucking Jungkook through his high, helping him ride it out until he gently pushes you away when he feels the burn of overstimulation. 

“Good?” you smile up at him and let go of his wilting length to lick at a stray bit of cum from your thumb. You wipe off the remaining spit on your shirt.

“Amazing,” he replies, smiling dazedly down at you. 

You allow him to pull you from the ground up onto the bed with him, laughing when your knees pop loudly in the quiet of the room as you stand up. Giggling, you curl up against his side listening as his heart rate evens out to a steady rhythm. You can't be bothered to care that his skin is tacky with a light sheen of sweat.

You lay against Jungkook for a few minutes as he basks in the afterglow of a powerful orgasm. He pulls you tighter against him, tipping his head down to kiss you for a blow job-well-done. Tasting the residual flavor of his cum, he groans against your mouth, enjoying your combined essences.

Jungkook rolls you onto your back, continuing to kiss you with fervor. The sound of lips and tongues clashing fill the room as the two of you enjoy the simple intimacy of being together. Reaching down, Jungkook spreads your legs apart to make room for him to lay comfortably between your thighs. 

“W-what,” you’re breathless as his lips leave your mouth and travel down your jaw.

“Mmm,” he mumbles against your skin. “It’s your turn now.” He nibbles along your sensitive neck, goosebumps rising with his light touch. 

You run your fingertips up and down his back, scratching along the peaks and valleys of his spine. Leaning his weight into one arm, he uses the other to push up the hem of your shirt, ghosting a hand under to cup a breast. He palms greedily at the flesh as he continues to kiss you passionately. 

“I wanna see you,” says Jungkook. “Can I take this off?” he gestures at his cut-off tank you’re still wearing.

Criss crossing your arms and pulling up by its hem, you bare your chest to Jungkook’s eager eyes. His gaze drops down to admire the bouncing of your tits as you wiggle out of your top. Propping up on his elbows, he ducks his head to capture a nipple between his petal soft lips, coaxing it into a stiff peak with gentle suction and the lapping of his tongue. When your back arches in pleasure and you clutch his head to you, Jungkook takes the opportunity to slide his arms under you to hold you securely to his mouth as he worships at the altar of your breasts. 

“Baby, yes, you’re so good to me” you pant, feeling your arousal generously leak from your core.

Eyes closed and relishing in the sensation, you whimper, sending one hand to grip his long, dark locks and feeling the prickle of his freshly trimmed undercut. With a hand in his mane, you feel him unlatch from your tight bud to plant wet open mouthed kisses around your areola and across your chest. He stops over your heart, lips lingering to feel the rapid thumping rattle your sternum.

Generous with his attention, he moves to nip and suck around your neglected breast. He slurps your nipple into his eager mouth, tongue swirling to tease it to a hard peak. Jungkook's diligent stimulation of your breasts sends sparks of pleasure down to your cunt as he continues to lap at your pebbled beds.

“More, please,” you whine, bucking your hips upwards, hoping to encourage him to touch you where you need it most. 

Hearing you beg so prettily for him slowly coaxes life back into his spent cock. He feels himself begin to swell again against your thigh. Pleasuring you has always been incredibly arousing for him, and he knows with a several more minutes of rest, he’ll be ready to fuck you senseless.

Pulling an arm out from under your torso, Jungkook leans his weight onto one elbow and sends his free hand down between your legs to the treasure between your thighs. His lips pursed around your nipple continues to suckle and tease you into a frenzy. 

The room fills with sounds of your mewling and his blunted goans as he plays the familiar song of your body. His hands brush against the soft black lace as he spreads your legs, positioning you to his liking. 

“So wet,” Jungkook acknowledges with a quirk of his lips, fingers swiping along your slit to feel for your arousal. Bringing those fingers towards his mouth, he sucks your essence from his fingertips, savoring your taste. Jungkook switches nipples again and his fingers, now slickened with his saliva, return to the warmth of your pussy. 

You gasp when you feel him caress at your opening before sinking a lone finger into your tight, wet heat. Jungkook can’t help but grunt as he feels your walls clench around him, excited to feel it around his growing erection. 

“It’s all for you baby,” you praise him, carding your fingers through his fringe and pushing his hair back to get a better view of him suckling at your breast. Your breath hitches when you feel him add a second finger, stretching you open with his long, tattooed digits and curling them against your g-spot.

“Mmm yes- ahh. Fuck me with them,” you plead. Lacking the power to drive you towards an orgasm, he teases you with sensual strokes until your cunt drips down your ass and his fingers come out sparkling with your arousal. Completely at his mercy, you feel Jungkook slow down further. Brat. 

You’re writhing beneath him as he continues his personal brand of slow, pleasurable torture. His lips release your tender nipple and return to your open mouth attempting to swallow your moans. 

“Fuck me harder, please, I need it harder.” you beg, hoping to convince him to finger you to completion. Despite your request, Jungkook stops thrusting completely, opting to curl his fingers and rubbing softly against your g-spot while grinding the heel of his palm just off center from your pulsing clit. Your eyes are closed, but you can feel his gaze on your visage committing your whining and fucked out expression to memory. You’re being uncharacteristically pliant for him tonight- a change that he is very much enjoying. He files it under ‘spank bank material’ for when Beyond ultimately goes back on tour. 

“Please, baby, make me cum. I’m so close.” you try one last time. You’re panting and desperate for release. 

“You’re not cumming tonight unless it’s on my cock,” he grits out. His fingers stay hooked inside you, caressing at your sensitive front wall. Jungkook’s mouth returns to suckling at your pebbled bud and he slowly fucks you open with his fingers. Your cunt quivers and leaks with your arousal, but without the thrusting or clitoral stimulation, you won’t be cumming anytime soon.

“But how-” you glance down, not expecting his nearly fully erect cock. Pleasuring you had sparked his arousal again, the sounds of your approval and sight of your wet pussy glistening with desire has encouraged him back towards full mast. Licking your lips at his growing girth, you push his hand from your core to collect some of your personal lubricant. You wrap your slicked up fingers around his length jacking him to his full potential. 

“Uunffff- ok, ok. Hold on,” he says, reaching out into your bedside table for lube. You hear Jungkook uncap the small bottle and are eager to feel him deep inside you. Quickly flipping onto your front, you prop yourself on your elbows and knees, presenting your husband with your sloppy, swollen cunt- a soundless request imploring him to fuck you from behind.

“I want to feel you deep,” you reason and unable to resist you, Jungkook agrees. Eyes glued to the way your crotchless panties have dampened with your cream, he spreads a generous glob of lube up and down his cock. He wipes the remainder against your labia and rubs some onto your clit making you mewl out for him. He wipes off the residue on your sheets. You’ll have to wash that later.

Taking a moment to admire his view, his hands caress over your hips and ass. “Are you ready?” Jungkook asks, always so considerate of your needs. 

You nod and delirious with lust, you reach between your legs for him, sliding his bulbous tip up and down your slit before pushing your hips back to take him into your awaiting passage. Jungkook descends down creating a canopy with his body, sheltering you with the physical representation of his love. Jungkook’s hands find yours, lacing his calloused palms to the backs of your hands, fingers interlocking. With light pressure, he encourages you to lay your front down onto the bed. He nudges your knees further apart, propping you ass high in the air. 

Positioned to his liking, he takes his first stroke into your eager cunt. Despite his diligent fingering, the fit is still tight, and you feel the initial pinch as he breaches you. You both release matching moans upon your coupling, and you already know you won’t last long after enduring Jungkook's extensive foreplay. He sets a slow pace plunging deep into your velvet heat. 

“Harder, Kook, I’m already so close.” you puff into the sheets, turning your head as far as possible to watch your lover as he takes you from behind. “Please,” you rasp.

No longer denying your release, Jungkook thrusts faster, snapping his hips powerfully with the intent of getting you off. His cock hammers into you and you’re helpless underneath him to do anything but take it. He can already feel you tightening around him deliciously and lets go of one hand to reach down between your legs. With two fingers, Jungkook rubs tight circles around your clit while he continues to drill into your cunt which is just what you need to finally cum.

“Oh, fuck! Ah- ah-ah, Jungkook!” you chant. Your hands furiously grip the sheets trying to hold onto something to ground you as your high threatens to pull you under. Legs quaking and pussy fluttering around him, your walls contract rhythmically around his turgid length as he continues to rigorously fuck you through your orgasm. 

Jungkook whines at the sensations gripping his cock, but pulls out of your spent heat to spare you from the sting of overstimulation. Any other night, he may have considered fucking you into a second orgasm, but tonight feels different. Tonight, he wants to make ardent love to you.

Without Jungkook’s strong frame to hold you up, you crumble limp against the bed. Your ears ring with the aftermath of a good round of fucking. It takes a second to register that he is speaking.

“Can you take more?” he asks. Confused, you look down and see that he’s still painfully hard. Oh. His erection is glossy with your juices, shining as it bobs between his well-muscled thighs. 

“Fuck- yes,” you quickly consent to him. 

Jungkook swiftly rolls you onto your back again and sits up on his knees between your spread thighs. “I love you in these, but I want to see all of you,” he rasps, tugging at your ruined panties and pulling them off while his eyes stay glued on your saturated folds. Climbing back up your body, he spreads your legs wider and leans forward bringing his cock to your core. You look down to watch him steadily thrust his length against your slit, bumping against your clit on the upstrokes. 

Wanting to draw out his teasing, he grips his slickened base and slaps his dick against your slippery folds. Each wet smack sends waves of electric pleasure through your system as Jungkook works you back up. “Just fuck me, baby. I’m ready.” you insist. Your gaze trails up, meeting his heated stare. 

“I want you to keep your eyes on me when I make love to you,” he says, voice dropping an octave. When you nod in understanding, he catches his tip against your entrance and pushes back into your ripe, warm cunt. Your legs immediately wrap around his trim waist pulling him closer and encouraging him to brace the weight of his upper body on his hands. Your ankles interlock against the base of his spine to bring him deeper.

Jungkook starts with long, slow strokes, pulling nearly all the way out of you before feeding his cock back into your sopping pussy. Going slow enough for you to feel every ridge of his throbbing length, he impales you over and over.

Your back arches in pleasure and you have to fight to keep your eyes open for him. Wanting him closer, you greedily reach your hands up to pull him down closer to you, forcing him to drop to his elbows as he continues to give it to you slow and deep. 

Jungkook braces on his forearms and cradles your head. He tilts your chin up to align with his intense gaze as he continues to plow into you. Brow furrowed and eyes locked, your husband watches your dazed and needy expressions while his body and mind make love to yours. 

He’s always so good to you. Devoted and adoring. You’re suddenly struck with the reminder that this beautiful man is yours. Always has been. Always will be. And tonight is a good time to remind Jungkook how deeply you love him. A fear of commitment used to hold you back, but he peeled back your layers and showed you that love didn’t have to hurt. You haven’t been afraid since. Jungkook has the whole of your heart. 

“How did I get so lucky?” you say, reaching up to caress his jaw as he continues to thrust into your depths. “I’m sorry I lost sight of us,” you stutter trying to sound coherent as your husband diligently sinks his thickness into you again and again. “I never meant for you to feel-”

“- I know. And I’m sorry I didn’t communicate better, I just- I’m working on it,” Jungkook cuts you off. He knows this is a two way street. 

“We don’t have to try anymore if you aren’t ready. Pull out and I’ll suck you off again” you offer. If Jungkook isn’t 100% in, you aren’t either. 

“No, I want it. I’m ready for our love to create something beautiful and for everything that comes after that.”

You moan, eyes closing briefly, as Jungkook begins to pick up the pace. The increase in friction against your walls is quickly bringing you towards the edge again. An unexpectedly fierce pump of his hips has you gasping in delight.

“I said-,” Jungkook grunts with another sharp thrust, “-eyes on me, baby.” You pry your eyes open, surprised by his display of dominance and try not to squeal.

Jungkook reaches one hand down to tilt your pelvis back further and you lock your legs up higher on his frame allowing him to shove a pillow under your ass. The new position brings your clit directly under his pubic bone. When he slams back down to stuff you full, he grinds deliciously against you, making you nearly scream out in ecstasy.

“I love you,” you whisper in earnest. “I love you so much,” you moan as Jungkook begins to pound you into the sheets. You’re both quickly unraveling, approaching another high, bodies tingling with impending release. When your thighs begin shaking around him for the second time tonight, he picks up the pace filling the room with a symphony of your euphoria. 

Breaking your eye contact briefly, Jungkook looks down at the juncture of your connection and is enthralled by the visual- his cock coming out foamy with your cream and slamming back into your weeping pussy. Groaning, he suddenly feels the sharp sting of your nails raking down his back as you’re overcome with pleasure. 

“Come on, babe. Cum on my fucking cock,” Jungkook grunts, urging you towards completion. With your hips canted deliciously, he continues to ram directly against your g-spot. 

“Oh fuck, it’s so good. I’m so close,” you babble, feeling Jungkook push deeper against you to stimulate your pulsing clit. Hands clutching your husband and thighs trembling, your eyes slip closed as you finally succumb to his endeavors. You cum with a silent scream, head tilted back and throat exposed as your walls spasm uncontrollably. The wild contracting of your pussy squeezing his cock triggers Jungkook’s own release. His length throbs desperately within your walls as you coax him towards his end. 

“Ahh, I- I’m holy shit- I’m cumming, too” Jungkook whines as he climaxes with breathy whimpers, exploding as he fills you with streams of his ejaculate. He thrusts as deep as he can get while his length continues to spurt inside you, shallowly rutting to ride out his high. 

Panting, he collapses his weight into your waiting arms. “Oof,” you grunt as you feel your husband’s sweaty and spent body pin you against the bed. You let him rest against you for a while, content to feel the warm fullness of his cock and spunk nestled deep inside you.

“Can I stay inside?” he asks shyly. “I just wanna hold you.” You smile and Jungkook holds you close and carefully rolls under you so you can comfortably lay against him. With his arms wound around your waist and your thighs spread wide with his dick sheathed inside you, he ensures maximal skin contact.

Seeing his blissed out face, you giggle as the two of you revel in your post-coital afterglow. His spent length slowly softens letting some of his cum leak from your used hole onto him and the sheets below. You’re definitely going to have to wash these. 

Your fingers find their way into his hair, scratching along his scalp and pushing back his long locks to expose the sexy undercut hiding beneath. Jungkook’s eyes are still closed, but he still leans his face forward knowing you’ll meet his lips with your own. The two of you make out for a little longer, savoring the intimacy shared in your little bubble. 

Jungkook clings to you, preening at your gentle caress and basking in his favorite form of aftercare. Your cunt is runny with lube and your combined releases, but you’re too content to lay with Jungkook in your arms to clean up just yet. You lie wrapped around each other for a few more minutes, mindlessly kissing at his face and neck, whispering praises for his performance.

It’s quiet for a long moment, and assuming he must have fallen asleep as he tends to do after a vigorous round of love making, you attempt to unwind your limbs from his. Grumbling, he tightens his hold around you, preventing you from getting far. 

“Jungkook,” you warn with a laugh, “I have to get cleaned up.”

“Mmm not yet, hold me a little longer” he requests as he burrows deeper in your embrace.

Sighing, you relent, slowly dozing off with your husband in your arms. 

_______________________________________________

When you wake, you find that you've shifted in your slumber. Jungkook's chest is plastered to your back and he has an arm slung over your waist with a hand curled around one of your tits. The mess between your legs has dried making you cringe when you move to get up. Leaving Jungkook who is slowly stirring, you go to the bathroom to shower. 

You step under the spray and let the warm water relax you while you clean off the sweat and unholy mix of bodily fluids from between your thighs. You hum along to the new Beyond the Scene single and sing some of the chorus that you can remember. You exit the shower, wrapping a towel securely around you and return to rouse your sleeping husband.

You find that Jungkook is already awake and sitting against the headboard. “You know, I hope our kid doesn’t inherit your singing voice,” Jungkook cackles, cutting through the silence. 

"Why you-," you gasp, tackling him down into the sheets and laughing along with him. You pin him down and pinch at his nipple in retaliation. It’s not long before he’s pulling the towel from your body and rolling you under him to latch his mouth to your cunt. Before the night is over, he delivers another two orgasms and a fresh load. After all, practice makes perfect.

[that-gt-and-vore-stuffs]

Experiment 05SB

Alternatively titled “I’m sorry 2B don’t hate me please”

I hath given in to the M4dc0m brain rot at the cost of me now having written a 7k+ word fic because I’m not confident enough in my art skills to draw it at the moment. Here we go!

Oh, there’s also implied fatal in this (it’s of unnamed characters, plus this is M4dc0m, but I’ve gotta say it. I guess you could take it as reformation if you really wanted to.). Mentions of blood I guess?

As always, Vore under the cut :)

“Ey 2b? You there?” Deimos’s voice crackled to life through the plastic earpiece currently jammed into his left ear, yanking the hacker and unofficial ‘team medic’ as he was called once (much to his own confusion. Sure, he knew basic medical but by no means was he any sort of doctor) back into reality. A brief moment passed in the silence of his room, more often called ‘the lab’, of their base before everything came crashing back at once. Deimos, Sanford, and Hank were out raiding a A.A.H.W warehouse at his instruction. Meaning he was alone in their base, also known as a breaking down appartement they had taken shelter in. It had electricity and provided shelter from the harsh hell scape that had once been the state of Nevada. A dark red sunless sky overhead, vegetation and any ecosystems completely wiped out from what they’d seen, bandits and zeds equally ready to eat the nearest person if it meant living another day, the Agency hunting you down if they thought you’d possibly be working against them or with the infamous Hank J. Wimbleton, and having little to no essential resources for days at a time to top it all off like some twisted cherry on this sick cake. Home sweet fucking home.

“Doc? Helllloooo?” Shit, right. Deimos.

“Sorry, I’m here. What is it Deimos?”

“And the medic lives!” The small cheer was accompanied by laughter from the smallest member of the team. Jebus, how was he able to joke in even the most dire situations?

“Just get to the point, chucklehead.” 2b could hear Sanford add in over the static, the man’s laughter just barely making it to tired ears.

“Right right, sorry man. Anyway, if we wanted to get food on the way back would you say no?” Pardon? There was no way he was hearing that right. There were several reasons why he couldn’t be hearing that right. A. food wasn’t by any means the easiest thing to come by in this hellhole, B. restaurants weren’t really a common thing anymore so those were out of the picture, and C. there’s no way they could p- actually, scratch that last one. Robbing a corpse wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that those three had done. Not by a long shot. Still though, how was he supposed to respond to that request?

“…what?” Apparently by asking the first word on his mind.

“We saw that one hotdog vendor on the way here and we’re all starving. Can we or can we not get hotdogs on the way back?” Oh. That’s what Deimos ment. How on earth had that hotdog vendor not been killed yet?

“Is this a genuine ‘we’ or is it a ‘me’, Deimos?” That seemed like a more fair and answerable question.

“Hey I-!”

“It’s a genuine ‘we’ Doc,” Sanford’s voice chimed in. By the cursing in the background 2b could imagine that he had flipped up Deimos’s mic to temporarily mute him in the realm of their earpieces. “Pretty sure one of our stomachs gave us away to the last group of agents we had to take out. Not gonna point fingers but I’m pretty sure it was Hank- Ack! I’m just saying!”

“Thought we weren’t pointing fingers.” There was the third voice. Rough from years of fighting yet still all too recognizable as Hank. The same Hank J. Wimbleton on the wanted posters that scattered the walls of almost every nearby building, wanted dead by the Auditor and his whole agency. He must’ve smacked Sanford for his comment. Well at least he didn’t do worse, whether on purpose or accident.

“We aren’t. Now Cmon Doc, you never answered my question.” Hearing the other hacker’s voice ask for an answer again 2b sighed. Always eager, wasn’t he? How the man had seemingly endless energy on missions would forever remain a mystery to him, Jebus be damned.

“I don’t really care what you do on the way back so long as you all come back in one piece and with the stuff I sent you there for. Understood?”

“Aye aye, Captain Doc! Over and out!” And there they went. The earpiece went dead, leaving 2b on his own once again once he flicked up his own mic. Back to silence. Sweet sweet silence. It wasn’t often they got that in their shared apartment of a base. Someone was always awake, someone was always saying something. It was never really quiet unless you were lucky enough to be the only one awake. 2BDamned had seen plenty of those rare times, if only because he overworked himself and didn’t sleep. So maybe it was one of his less than desirable qualities, when living in a hellscape being ten steps ahead of the agency trying to kill you is always good. He had to keep that up, on top of keeping the others alive and well.

And then there was his little experiment. That also was taking a toll on how little he slept. Not all that long ago the trio had returned from a mission with the data he had requested and more. Specifically a duffel bag full of seemingly shrunken grunts and two only slightly bigger shrunken MAGs. Pft, how funny it was to say that. A shrunken MAG. Hell, he wouldn’t believe it if you told him with no proof. The idea seemed insane. Oh but it wasn't. Not by a long shot if the cages sitting on one of his tables said anything. Normally he’d call such a thing like keeping people in cages inhumane, not that there were many humane things in this hellhole to begin with. He’d expect keeping them in cages that probably used to be for pets to be a move pulled by the Agency, not himself, however he had to make do with what they could find and had access to. Also known as: not much at all. He wanted to study them after all. Letting them free was just not an option.

Now that probably sounds bad, studying living beings like himself, but one couldn’t blame 2b when you considered his situation (at least he hopes one couldn’t). Somehow the Agency found a way to shrink living beings. That’s power that could be used against him and the others to make everything turn for the worst, something which he wanted to avoid at all costs. However, if one of his teammates or himself were to be shrunken on a mission it would be possibly lifesaving to know how to reverse the effects. Plus, having the power to shrink enemies on their side could certainly prove useful. All that being said, he needed these few alive in order to try and figure out what caused them to be how they were. Hence the repurposed, beat up pet cages. Two of them to be exact. One held the grunts and the other for the two MAG agents. None of them had killed each other yet, so that was nice. A few simple experiments and a dissection of a grunt that had been dead upon arrival to him proved that they still functioned as they would if they were their normal size. Just on a smaller scale. He had sent Hank, Deimos, and Sanford out for supplies today, yes, though if they found any information regarding the shrinking of their little ‘guests’ then they were to bring it to him. With no information on that though, he had to continue his other work. Tired eyes met the screen through red goggles. Moments later his head found itself cushioned in the crook of one of his arms.

“What the hell.” 2b grumbled, a fresh headache slowly starting to pound against the inside of his skull. What the hell was up with him? He should be fine. This was only his second day without proper ‘longer-then-15-minutes’ sleep. He’d gone longer before, he should be able to function. Why was the screen giving him such a headache now of all times? He needed to get stuff done. He needed to finish up this…this……what was he working on again? Hold on, no, he should remember. This shouldn’t be slipping his mind like it is. Maybe if he just thought back a few minutes. It would come back to him, right?

“Ok right before Deimos called, what was I doing?” 2b thought out loud to himself, trying his hardest to recall what had happened prior to the call from his allies. ”I was sitting here…then Deimos called in. Wait, no. Go back. From the top. Since…however long ago I’ve been sitting here, working on…what was I working on before Deimos asked about getting food? I sent them on the raid, didn’t eat, got to work and- no. That’s not it. Why can’t I just-“

Gggnnnnnnrrrr…

Oh well fuck him. That’s why he couldn’t focus. 2b groaned, not bothering to hide the noise as of now. He was alone, no one would hear him or tease him. Unless you would count the shrunken men in the cages, however it wasn’t likely they’d say anything. When you’re the size of a rat, spare the MAGs who were more rabbit sized, to your captor pissing them off seemed like the worst thing one could do. Clearly the hacker wasn’t at all in the mood to deal with teasing, so their mouths remained shut. That left 2b alone to deal with his complaining stomach, a feat which proved easier said than done when one was going off a day and a half without properly sleeping. He couldn’t even remember the last time he ate something. It was all just fuzzing together at this point.

Pushing himself off his desk 2b flopped back into the worn chair he’d been sitting in for God knows how long. Relaxing into the backrest was certainly more comfortable than being hunched over a laptop screen typing away like he had been for the past day or two. A hand fell to rest over his stomach while the other removed his goggles. Those were not helping the blooming headache. A low growl from his stomach drew a small hiss through his teeth, the sound being accompanied by a familiar empty cramping.

“Oh you can shut up.” He grumbled at the organ half heartedly, “It’s not like I can eat anything right now. There’s a reason I sent Hank and the others out.” His stomach growled back, the empty sound ringing in the hacker’s ears. He needed to eat, that was undeniable. The problem was getting something to eat. He had few options, none of which he particularly liked. Option 1. going out to look for something even slightly edible on his own, option 2. wait and hope the others found and brought back food, or option 3. contact the others through his headset and ask them to get him something on the way back. The first option was clearly undesirable on its own and the other two weren’t much better. Sure, asking them to grab something for him would probably be easiest and most logical, however he was almost certain that they didn’t want to hear that out of the blue in the middle of a fight. That and he didn’t want to deal with any teasing that might come along with asking. He wasn’t about to take that chance when he had things to do. He couldn’t remember those things at the moment, sure, but they were still things he had to do! So asking was not an available option at the moment. That left waiting and hoping for the best.

Rrrrrrrnnngggggg….

“I know. I don’t like the idea either.” 2b sighed as he spun around in his chair, gently patting his stomach. He needed to get out of his chair, even if it was just a walk around his room. He needed something after a day and a half straight of sitting there hunched over staring at a screen. Maybe it’d help with the headache if he was lucky. Probably wouldn’t but hey a man could dream. With a small grunt of effort the hacker found himself on his feet, his balance wobbling and legs feeling like brittle pasta beneath him. Ah, that's what I wanted to do earlier. Go figure taking breaks gets ignored by my brain. “However, I do believe it’ll end with the best result. I’m sure they’ll be home soon anyway.”

They wouldn’t. That was a lie, to himself and to his stomach alike. He likely had a few more hours alone, maybe two at least. The A.A.H.W warehouse he’d sent them to was big and if you account for fighting delays and them stopping on the way back then the chance of them being back in the next two hours would be some sort of miracle. By the way his stomach reacted every time he brushed over the thought that the trio was getting food on the way back then he wasn’t going to be looking so hot by the time they arrived back. Oh he was going to get the short end of the stick no matter what he did, wasn’t he? Talk about luck. 2b sighed, running a hand up and through his hair as he walked along one of the walls of his small room. His stomach clearly wasn’t shutting up any time soon so the next best course of action would be to ignore it. Maybe that would help him wait it out. What could he focus on? There was work, he could clean up a little bit maybe, or he could focus on the rattling coming from the cages and-

Hold on.

That most certainly wasn’t right. 2b cocked an eyebrow, crossing the room to where the three cages were placed. Quite the interesting scene was playing out before him. From what he could see a few of the shrunken grunts were teaming up to try and break out of the cages. This wasn’t their first little escape attempt, no, but it interested him enough as he stood there watching and attempting to grab his tablet at the same time. Eventually he had succeeded, opening up a new document to scribble down a few notes.

Title: Log 073SB

Time: 6:34 pm, xx/xx/xx

Author: 2BDamned

Note: Grunts working together to attempt escape. MAG agent seems to be attempting to cause a distraction by rattling the wall of the cage. Or perhaps they just want out. Very annoying either way. None seem bothered by my presence.

Satisfied with his little note, 2b closed the tablet and set it down on the counter next to one of the cages. Whether it was him being too rough with setting the tablet down or the low grumble from his stomach that startled the cage of grunts was up for debate, but currently he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Right now he needed to have a chat with the little troublemakers. Without hesitation the unofficial medic reached forward, opening the little hinged door located on top of the cage with ease compared to what the grunts inside were attempting before. He didn’t think twice before he reached in and grabbed the two topmost grunts from the pile of attempted escapees before retracting his hand, repeating the process with his other hand, and finally closing the cage. Hands now full, each holding two fighting bodies, the hacker sighed.

“Escape huh? How many times have you already tried that and it didn’t work?” 2b asked, a less than impressed tone lacing his voice. Sure, he needed a distraction from his stomach but he didn’t want to have to deal with escape attempts left and right for the next however long. “What made you think it’d go any different this time?”

There was a moment of silence before a soft voice spoke up, one that clearly hadn’t been used recently. One of the grunts in his left hand. “W-we figured i-if we actually tried and w-worked together then maybe we’d b-be able to manage a successful…e-escape…”

“Really now? Interesting.” 2b mumbled, looking over the grunt in his hand. They were all so small. You’d think he’d have gotten used to their size by now but every time he held one it seemed to slap him in the face. Offing them if they got too rowdy wouldn’t be hard at all. Wouldn’t need to use anything to begin with. How crazy it was. “Though I’m not sure I can let this slide as I have with previous instances.”

“W-what?” His response seemed to temporarily stun the four in his hands, most likely because of how it was different from his previous comments on their attempted escapes. A shiver passed over them like a wave while the hacker only nodded.

“Your previous attempts at escape. While I can understand why one would try I’ve made it quite clear that successful escapes won’t be happening nor tolerated, correct? I need to prove my point here because you all clearly don’t understand words.” He shifted on his feet slightly, a new question wracking his brain. What could he do to show he wasn’t going to deal with constant escape attempts? It had to be something that stuck, seeing as they clearly didn’t understand his earlier comments about escape not being tolerated. Only a few moments of silence passed before his lips were moving again. “You four are going somewhere else. A stronger holding space. If any of the others try anything they’ll join you. Simple, yet effective.” Or it would be if he knew exactly where he planned to stick these four. What did he have that could serve as a stronger cell for them? The cages were already pretty secure in terms of what he could work with. He just needed something stronger, close to him, hard to escape, and threatening that held a sense of danger with it. But what could that be? His eyes darted around the makeshift lab, trying to find something.

Grrrrroowwwllll…

2b’s eyes slowly scanned down from his shaking captives to his stomach. For a moment he just stared, eyes lacking any readable emotion. Well now that was certainly an option. It fit his criteria. Almost too well. Strong, hard to escape, close to him, and it held a sense of danger. Under his mask his torn and scared lips quirked up into a little smirk. “Mmhm. That’ll do quite nicely, in fact~”

The final moments of peace were shattered as the meaning of his words collided with his captives like a well aimed punch to the gut. Hearts sunk to their feet like rocks in water, despair rearing it’s head in their struggles. Those fortunate enough to remain in the cages simply watched with a muted horror as the four bodies were tossed onto the table and held down with little to no effort. The hacker wasted no time removing the mask and bandages that usually covered his mouth, tossing the fabrics haphazardly beside his discarded tablet. Despite the word fresh being the last thing he’d use to describe the Nevada air, 2b knew he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t nice to just breathe the air in alone and not through the layers of fabric like he often did. With the temporary roadblock now gone his eyes drifted downward to the bodies pinned beneath his hand.

“Well, I believe that eliminates any preventable issues we could encounter here.” He hummed softly, plucking the grunt who was covered by his hand the least up into the air. It certainly was odd to watch the little body squirm and fight against him, all attacks on the two fingers holding it proving futile. Their only hope seemed to be 2b letting them go, something which proved less and less likely the longer they studied the look in the hackers eyes. It wasn’t a look one ever wanted to find themself on the receiving end of. The sight of sharp teeth, glimmering with saliva through grinning lips, certainly did not help to lower the grunt’s heart rate at all. 2b simply clicked his tongue. “Meaning stalling time is up. Stay still, won’t you?”

The grunt did not, in fact, stay still. It was impossible to do so as far as they knew when you had a spit soaked tongue dragging up every inch of your front, sharp daggers of teeth only millimeters from their face. A deafening silence washed over the others, only being broken by a small pleased hum from their normal sized captor.

“Not bad…” the man mumbled, dragging his tongue up the squirming grunt yet again. A small voice in the back of his mind, his voice of reason, yelled out the obvious loud and clear to him plenty of times: this was wrong. It wasn’t right to be doing what he was about to do. This was stooping down to the bandits level, something he never intended to do unless absolutely necessary. He shouldn’t be enjoying the taste of another living being like this. And yet…here he was. Ignoring any logic and reason in his mind to proceed with this. Thank goodness he was alone. 2b didn’t even want to think about what the others might say if they were to see him how he was now. Shaking his head softly he shoved away the thought, opening his jaw as far as the joint and scarred tissue that made up his cheeks would allow. He wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned with how easily the small body slipped into his mouth.

Despite their best efforts to squirm free of their new confinement, the slippery surroundings of the unofficial doctor’s maw proved to have horrible traction. Saliva dropped onto the unfortunate grunt’s head from above while they desperately tried to crawl out of the dark cavern. Feet scrambled on the soaked surface of their predator’s tongue as the muscle moved and flipped them around as if they were some piece of candy, all while their hands desperately tried to keep as little of them between the axe like teeth. One bite and they were done for, a terrifying thought. Through it all only three sounds were ever heard from those lucky enough to not be in the current grunt’s position. The sickening sounds of soaked struggle, terrified yelps from the grunt stuck within 2b’s jaws, and the occasional hum from the man himself. The torture, as those watching from the cage would describe it, seemed to continue for hours and hours on end.

Glk

Glp~

Until it all stopped with two simple swallows and a collective gasp of horror from those watching. The relaxed posture of the man they all watched failed to help their situation.

“H….huhh…that was..” the uncertified medic breathed, breaking the silence. His free hand lazily felt down his throat, tracing where he could feel the squirming body slip further down by the second. It didn’t take a genius to decipher that the less angry sounding gurgle from the man’s stomach signaled the end of the unfortunate grunt’s descent. With eyes widened just beyond his natural look 2b gently pressed his stomach. How interesting it was, as morbid as it might sound, to feel something squirming around inside the organ. Before he could even stop to consider a better way to word his thoughts, he finished his sentence. Just not in the way the grunts wanted to hear. “…incredibly easy.”

The last thing any of the remaining grunts wanted to see was those eyes scan up slowly before locking on them as if they were some sort of dessert. The clearly out of place smile on the man’s face didn’t help the feeling of impending doom either. If anything it only made it worse as a rough hand plucked another grunt from the selected three that had remained under his hand. Down, beneath his newfound curiosity and odd urge to continue what he was doing, 2b knew he should have been more concerned about how easy this was coming to him. No sane person would take so calmly to swallowing living beings, especially not of his own kind. Yet here he was, smirking as he licked over his scarred lips with cold eyes locked onto the small shaking body like a cat would after spotting a mouse. Looking at their sizes in comparison to one another? The simile was scarily accurate. Through his whole little mental debate the hacker found it all too easy to slip the small body into his mouth, licking it over to draw out as much of that strangely addicting taste before slowly beginning to nudge it back. Just bit by bit until it was far enough.

Glrk

Grk~

“Two down…haahhh…two to go…” the hacker sighed as he traced the lump down his throat. There was a waiting period once more but it didn’t last long before the shiver inducing gurgle signified where the poor soul had ended up. How the man hadn’t gotten sick yet was beyond the understanding of those who witnessed the event and even the man himself. Surely he should feel at least a little nauseous with two rat sized bodies squirming within his stomach. Nausea and fullness were the two sensations he had expected by now and yet neither had shown their face yet. Deep within his mind, from an area he didn’t even know existed until it spoke, a voice urged him to test his limits. 2b had shaken that idea off nearly immediately. As….enticing as that idea was, he still needed a few of the shrunken grunts alive and well to continue his attempts to recreate and reverse however the Agency had shrunken them before. Four however….well that wasn’t the biggest loss in the world if something happened to go wrong. Leaning a little more heavily over the table he grabbed one of the last two grunts, shoving the struggling body into his mouth head first. Quite the sight it was to watch flailing legs be slurped into someone’s mouth like nothing more than wet noodles. Interesting and horrifying.

Glp

Glrk~

Though compared to seeing someone who had been beside you ten minutes ago disappear down your captor’s throat as nothing more than a barely visible lump would top it in the scarring scale. Nothing could compare to that sight. Good god was it terrifying. The reality that escape was impossible was all but cemented into the remaining grunts' brains now, as that had been what had gotten their companions into this situation in the first place. This was happening because their capturer wanted to prove his point that attempted escape would not be tolerated. At this point they were convinced they’d have to have a death wish to attempt escape now. Especially when their conditions weren’t horrible compared to what they could be in, something which hadn’t crossed their minds till now. Now don’t take their words wrong, by no means did they want to stay here. Especially not now. However, if it meant living another day and not ending up as lunch? Staying definitely was the preferable option.

“One to go. Damn.” The hacker's voice snapped all attention back to him. His position had changed, now leaning back on the table as he looked over the struggling form in his hands. The words seemed to flow from his mouth without too much thought needed behind them. They just felt…right. It was a feeling he never expected to experience in such a context that he was now, much less to have it almost piloting him as it felt now, but he was nearly willing to say he welcomed it. He wasn't well acquainted with the idea of eating living beings after all, so the subconscious help to ease the process along wasn’t something he’d push away. Not unless it were to cause an issue that is. However, nothing of the sort had happened yet, meaning he was going to keep letting his actions flow naturally.

Just as he had with the three before this one, 2b wasted little time starting towards his goal. Raising the grunt just above his head the man dangled the flailing body over his open mouth, a sight that he could assume would terrify anyone in the grunt’s position. All went smoothly as he lowered the small body in. That is until the grunt, having seen an opportunity and taken it, grabbed and yanked down his mic. While he tried to react as quickly as possible, he could only pray the microphone had not managed to pick up the gag he’d made after panic and shock had caused him to jolt forward and send the grunt to the back of his throat. He flipped up the mic as fast as he could, trying to determine the best course of action one could take with a squirming body halfway down their throat and a possibility of having just been ratted out to the others by their lunch. He was screwed were they to find out, what with how at least two of the three always seemed to be looking for teasing ammunition. That and this….well this wasn’t exactly normal, you know.

“Doc? Is everything ok over there?” Fuck. That wasn’t good. Ignoring the sinking feeling of dread in his chest the best he could, 2b took a deep breath and forced the fourth grunt down with a swallow that took a little more effort then he felt it should’ve. Flipping down the mic, he answered.

“Damnit- yes. I'm fine, Sanford. Don’t worry.” The sentence had to be his least convincing lie yet. Between his heavy breathing and dryness in his throat he could tell his voice wasn’t helping him in any way. Now he didn’t take his teammates for idiots, despite how it sure seemed like they were sometimes, but in the moment he found himself wishing they were.

“You sure? You don’t sound all that fine. Did something happen back at base?” The worry beginning to lace the man’s voice through the static filled earpiece only served to worsen the feeling of dread in 2b’s chest. He needed to get Sanford, and the others who were no doubt listening, off the idea something had happened. He needed to deal with the whole I-just-swallowed-four-people-alive thing before they came back, so them returning early was not in the plan.

“No, nothing happened.” He shot back, only realizing the speed in his voice wasn’t too reassuring after he said it. Ok, what was a believable excuse for why he sounded like he did? “I just…spilt coffee on my legs after burning my mouth. Must’ve knocked the mic down in the process.” With a hand to his chest the hacker forced a soft swallow, trying to at least get rid of the uncomfortable dryness that had settled in the back of his throat. Please say they believed that.

“Pft, really? Damn, wish I could’ve seen that. Think you looked like one of those old cartoons, Doc?” Phew, crisis averted.

“Real funny, Deimos. Get back to your mission.” 2b shook his head at the comment. At least they seemed to believe him. It was worth it, even if the mental image of those over exaggerated cartoon characters was now going to show up whenever he even slightly burnt his mouth on coffee. Oh well, some sacrifices must be made.

“Alright alright. We’re going.” The man on the other end laughed. Those idiots. Damn his heart caring for them, now he was attached. “See you when we get back. Over and out, Doc!” And there they went.

Fighting off his own soft laughter, 2b flipped up his mic. A soft sigh escaped him before he could even think to stop it. That could’ve been horrible. While one hand softly rubbed at his neck, sore from what he had to guess was the miniature disaster that just took place, the other gently laid itself over his stomach. The four inside never seemed to stop moving, constantly squirming and slipping about. There were a handful of reasons he could assume was the cause, though the most likely was that being shoved into a soaking wet moving sack with three of your colleagues provided little traction or ability to get comfortable. That and panic. Panic was probably a rather big factor in how they were feeling. 2b, on the other hand, had to be feeling the exact opposite of how they were. The warm weight of his four ‘victims’ was a welcome sensation within the previously empty pit of his stomach. As twisted as he knew it sounded, he would’ve been confident saying that what he was feeling was honestly satisfactory. Why having living beings stretch and actually round out his stomach in a barely noticeable way was causing this feeling was a mystery to him, but at the moment he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Not when it felt this nice.

“I hope I’ve made my point clear.” The unofficial medic hummed, looking over to the grunt filled cage. They had backed away from him by now, huddled in the back most corner of their confines. The sight drew a genuine laugh from the man they all seemed to fear ten times more than before. Well that was proof if he’d ever seen it. Looks like their escape wasn’t something he had to worry about any more. So maybe he sacrificed a little of his ‘I’m not going to hurt you’ act for this. It was worth it in his eyes. And besides, he was probably the most gentle with them out of his whole little gang. If they wanted to be left with one of the others then go ahead. Although being left with the mercenary who you were created to kill didn’t sound like the most fun time to him. Smirking, he collected his goggles, mask, and tablet from the table. “It seems I have. Glad we could have this little -hic!- chat. Heh.”

He gave the cage a pat, the rattling of the metal only serving to scare the grunts further back in the ball of bodies they’d curled into, before turning to walk back to his desk. He needed to sit down. Standing apparently became a lot harder when you had four people fighting against your insides. Thinking back, he didn’t know what he would have expected. Did he stumble a little bit trying to get back to his desk? Yes, he did. It was like he forgot how to walk in all honesty. Another reason he was glad he was alone in their base. Like most things though it proved worth it when he finally collapsed into the worn chair he used for work. Without thinking twice he opened his tablet and started a new log.

—————————

“Doc! We’re back!” The call rang out through the appartement, followed by three sets of footsteps marching their way in and the door slamming shut perhaps a little stronger than needed. As the hinges of the door stopped rattling the three expected to hear a displeased groan, followed by the ruffled form of 2b appearing in the hallway to scold them for being so aggressive or something like tracking blood into the base. Honestly, why he still bothered was a mystery to them, at least Sanford and Deimos for they had zero clue what went on in Hank’s head, for the most part. They were mercenaries, fighters, people looking to not end up with their brains splattered on the wall or something worse. They were going to be bloody upon returning, even if that blood wasn’t their own. It wasn’t like their floors were carpet or anything either. In the end though they never bothered to fight the scoldings. No use making the unofficial medic mad, especially if they needed help. The lack of disgruntled medic in the hallway or at least yelling when silence returned to the room was worrying. After a minute or two with nothing spoken and no ruffled hacker to be seen, Deimos tried again to call him.

“2b?” He called out, peering down the hallway which led to their rooms. There wasn’t any blood on the walls, a good sign to start, and no bullet holes that weren’t there before. Unless the Agency suddenly learned how to do stealth missions, something he and he knew the other two were hoping wasn’t the case, he had hopes. Again, no response from the man. Gun still in his hand he took one glance back to the others, a silent ‘follow me’, before continuing down the hallway. Although Deimos had made it to the closed door first he’d been pushed past by the red goggle wearing giant as he reached for the doorknob. Hank had been the one to open the door to 2b’s room. He’d also been the first of the trio to feel the tension in his shoulders drop. It wasn’t long after he had relaxed that he was shoved into the room by two bodies trying to get in and see any damage that could’ve been done while they were gone. The sight of 2BDamned softly snoring away in his chair, nothing in the room seeming out of place, was most certainly a welcome one.

“Ah. So that’s why he isn’t barking us up a tree for your entrance, Dei.” Sanford hummed with a laugh, careful to watch his volume. If there was one thing he didn’t want to deal with after their mission it was a cranky Doc who got woken up by them. It wasn’t a secret he didn’t necessarily sleep after all and there was no way he could survive off coffee like he seemed to silently claim he could sometimes. They all had times when their sleep schedules were fucked.

“Oh shut up, ‘Ford.” Deimos shot back with a playful punch to the man’s bicep. “It’s not like I’m the one who slammed the door. That’s what he would’ve been on our asses about.”

“You slammed it open then yelled loud enough for all of Nevada to hear you. Don’t act like you’re innocent!”

As the two’s words morphed into friendly bickering Hank took it upon himself to deliver the bit of what they got that couldn’t stay in the duffle bag slung over his shoulder at the moment. Buried in the pocket of his jacket was a small object. Something he hadn’t expected to find, but had snagged nonetheless when it had been pointed out by Deimos. For a second as he walked over to the man a rough hand dug around fabric, fingers gripping plastic as he arrived at his destination. Without thinking he tossed the USB onto the hacker’s desk, eyes wandering over small things like the empty coffee mug or discarded goggles. Behind red-tinted goggles they landed on the man’s tablet, the screen now illuminated thanks to what he could assume had been the small drive hitting the desk. Prying wasn’t something he often did when it came to his teammates, respecting their privacy as they often did his, but after a certain word caught his eye he couldn’t help but read the log that had popped up.

Title: Experiment 05SB

Time: 7:42 pm, xx/xx/xx

Author: 2BDamned

Note: I…cannot believe I’m about to write this. This is update one of Experiment 05SB, an experiment started without much if any bit of a proper plan behind it. Phase I, I suppose you could call it, was a success. The shrunken grunts are, in fact, small enough to swallow whole and…alive. MAGs have not yet been confirmed to be the same way, though I’m sure that answer will show itself one day. I am unsure why I am able to keep four of them down without feeling nauseated, but I can. I will update at a later time when more information has presented itself.

The log ended there, eyes falling away from the screen as Hank’s mind worked to process the information it had just been given. According to what had been written before the man had fallen victim to sleep, it was not only possible to swallow the shrunken beings sitting in one of the cages behind him, but the unofficial doctor had done it himself. Four times to be exact. Curiosity grabbed control of his eyes, slowly panning them up to the cage of grunts who looked noticeably more terrified than they usually did. Had they seen the whole thing go down? His mind continued to wander, finding new questions like how on earth the hacker had managed to keep living and no doubt moving beings down like the log said he did. That is unless he’d spit them up before falling asleep. However that seemed highly unlikely-

“Snooping around Doc’s stuff, are we Hank~?” When Deimos had appeared behind him was beyond the mercenary, though the shock of hearing his voice out of the blue was enough to startle him into quickly powering off 2b’s tablet and whipping around to face the two that now stood across with him with far too smug looks on their faces for his liking.

“Woah there, big guy! We didn’t mean any trouble.” Sanford cooed, the fucking Chad cooed, holding his hands up as if he was under some sort of arrest. “Just wanted to know what you were reading over here is all~.”

“Yeah, exactly. I never expected to find you clicking through Doc’s diary.” Deimos added on nearly flawlessly. Sometimes he really hated how well they worked together. Namely when it was against him. “So, was it a love confession~?”

Hank sighed, glaring at the two through his goggles. He sure fucking hoped they could see the look on his face, despite most of it being covered by bandages and his mask. Because he was not amused and he wanted them to know it.

“No, not a love confession, you morons.” He groaned, shaking his head. Telling them straight off what it said would probably be horrible. At the moment he was still having a few difficulties understanding parts of what he read. Lying just seemed like the best choice overall. It wasn’t like he’d be the only one doing so, after all. It sure seemed like 2b did to them over the mic. Speaking of the man, Hank turned around to take a good look at him. At first glance he seemed like he normally did when he passed out in his chair from overworking himself like this. It was only when Hank took an extra second to look and let the information in his brain guide him did he see the slightly out of place softness around the sleeping hacker’s stomach. Unable to help himself Hank felt his ruined remaining lip quirk up into a small smirk under his mask as he turned around to shove the Dumbass Duo out of the room so 2b could sleep.

“Bunch’a nonsense, is all. Now move. I don’t wanna deal with him if you idiots wake him up and we still have shit to put away.”

[justaniche]

Hey! I’m dying for more Daxton. I seriously can’t wait for season 2. Can you write something about Nalini realizing Paxton is good for Devi? Like he takes care of her/protects her and helps her deal with her trauma

Thanks!!

Hi!

omg let me say first, anon, thank you for this ask. youre the first person to take me up on my offer to write stuff for you so thank you again.

A little bit about this writing piece before I actually show it to you, there was a point when I was writing it when I wasn’t sure if it was going to reach 1K words but there was a point where the words just start to flow and I can proudly say it is 2.1K and that is not a lot but based on what I thought it was going to end up being it has come along way. and this is one of my first-ish never have I ever work of writing. I think it’s the first I’ve written entirely off the top of my head. My other ones are either not posted or it’s my work inspired by the episodes and its just everything through Paxton‘s point of view so it’s a bit different.

this is getting sort of long so anyway, without further ado. here it is. I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think and if you like it please feel free to send me another!

Nalini had just about had it. The day’s raging dumpster fire began with traffic that resulted in her being late to work. If that wasn’t bad enough, a patient she saw a couple days ago came back complaining that her treatment caused a breakout. After a follow-up, she discovered the patient hadn’t changed any of their habits despite her advice! So was it really the treatment, or the fact that they don’t wash their face? All that suffices to say when Nalini got home she was already on a very short fuse. Kamala was out for school and let her family know she wouldn’t be home for dinner so it was known by both Devi and Nalini that they would be cooking without her today. Nalini gave Devi specific instructions so that, regardless of how late her day ran, they could have dinner at a reasonable time. Devi did not follow those instructions. Nalini came home to the door unlocked, closed but unlocked, the house a mess, and Devi’s part of dinner not made. No matter how many breaths she took, Nalini was mad. No, mad didn’t quite cover it. She silently walked up the stairs, hell-bent on seeing what caused this disaster, and if she didn’t like the reason she planned to riff for the rest of the night. But approaching Devi’s door she found it ajar. She peeked inside, and that's where she found them.

After winning his swim meet, Paxton was on top of the world. The school day had been what it tended to be, light. Filled with class and hanging with his friends in the hotpocket. But that was hours ago. It was early evening when he saw her, Devi Vishwakumar, they had sort of become friends over recent weeks but given the up and down nature of their relationship, Paxton was always very aware of her. Devi had a way of grabbing Paxton’s attention. He was always trying to figure her out. Of course she made a hell of a first impression, first couple of impressions actually. Devi was sorely different from anyone else in his circle and Paxton wasn’t yet sure how he felt about the sudden invasion. He pretended he didn’t but after unintentionally watching her Paxton began to notice Devi’s change in mood sometimes. Like right now, from where Paxton was he saw the set of her shoulders. The tension was apparent as Devi stalked across the school grounds. Confusion flooded Paxton’s mind and before another thought could register, he was jogging towards her.

“ Hey, Vishwakumar, wait up! ” He called towards her but she didn’t stop

Devi cast a look over her shoulder, her voice was muffled when she spoke, “Uh, Hi Paxton, I can’t talk.” her voice cracks, “I’m in a bit of a rush.”

Paxton slows down for a second as he takes in the situation, Devi speeds up.

“Are you okay?”

Devi breaks into a dead sprint and Paxton doesn’t think, he just follows.

Devi was doing okay. Today was harder than most for a reason she couldn’t name but Devi was making it through. That was until last period art class. The teacher gave a simple assignment, and that was to paint your happiest memory. Immediately when the words left his mouth, a memory came flooding into Devi's mind like a tidal wave.

Devi was 8 when her father convinced her mother that going to a Californian beach as a family would be an adventure. Devi barely remembers the build-up, it was a haze of packing sandwiches and equipment. Leaving the house, only to discover something had been forgotten. A car ride that seemed to stretch into forever. But the beach was magnificent. At least it was in Devi’s memory. It was a gloomy day, the threat of rain looming, so the beach’s visitors were far and few in between. Devi remembers that feeling of warm sand under her feet. She remembers those first fragile steps into the tide, only to rush back as the ocean crashed forward chasing her back to shore. She could see her mom, in the distance, setting up their makeshift camp for the day. She was more content watching her family than participating. The ocean was vast and blue and terrifying. Devi could not urge herself to take more than a few steps. Devi doesn’t know how her dad saw her distress but it was like he could read her mind. He grabbed her and lifted her high then settled Devi on his shoulders. He insisted that she was safe there, she was too high for the ocean to ever reach. He held her hand as he walked slowly but confidently further into the waves. He stopped just as the water kissed her mid-calf but it was enough. From way up here, with her father by her side, the ocean wasn’t anything to fear, it was something to marvel at.

Devi had a firm picture in her mind of her happiest memory and it was her family’s adventure at the beach. But Devi couldn’t make a move to make this image a reality. Sadness crept up on her and got a vice grip on her heart. Her vision blurred and she couldn’t breathe. How had she ever breathed before? Was it always this hard? The bell rang, signaling the end of the day but Devi was on autopilot. Eleanor and Fabiola felt miles away, whenever they’d focus in the daze of her mind, the grip on her heart tightened and dragged her back to darkness. Devi doesn’t know if she said goodbye to her best friends,

She blinked, band began

She inhaled, band was over

She stood, the sun was setting

She gazed, the stress stiffened her movements as she walked around campus. Where was she headed?

Devi was desperate for light, for clarity.

“ Hey, Vishwakumar, wait up! ” The sudden noise broke the muddle, if only for now, she was again aware of the devastation and loss weighing on her mind and on her heart.

She recognized that voice and it was getting closer, she glanced over her shoulder. Paxton, no no no, she didn’t want anyone to see this least of all her newest and most popular friend, “Uh, Hi Paxton, I can’t talk.” Why was her voice cracking? “I’m in a bit of a rush.”

Devi finally knew where she wanted to go as she increased her speed.

“Are you okay?” Paxton’s question was the final straw, she couldn’t stop her tears and they fell uncontrollably past her cheeks. Paxton was going to catch up, and Devi was crumbling by the second. So Devi did the only thing she could. She ran, ignoring the echo of the beating steps behind her.

Nalini could hardly comprehend the scene playing in front of her. Devi, her only child, her entire world, looked so small folded up on the floor in front of her bed. Devi was always so strong, with a personality larger than life. She always seemed bigger than her stature, always taking up more space. Nalini's anger from the day deflates, leaving no trace it was ever there to begin with. Nalini tears her eyes away from the form of her daughter to take in the room. It was dark but the other figure inhabiting the room was clear as day. Paxton sat before Devi, his body language soft. He had one hand on the arms Devi wrapped around herself as he spoke to her gently. Paxton’s volume was soft as a whisper, any louder would shatter the delicate atmosphere. Witnessing this scene felt like a secret and the longer Nalini stood there the guiltier she felt. Devi never expressed emotions this deeply to her. Everyday problems with her friends or tests or Ben Gross, yes. But Devi never shared this.

Nalini's mind was going a million miles an hour as he crept back down the steps and began cooking dinner. She knew Devi would refuse but she needed to have something ready, just in case. When everything was mostly done, she was quiet as she moved around the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the meal. Nalini knew he was trying to walk silently but she still caught Paxton as he descended the steps. Nalini kept her back to him as she called, giving Paxton an out if he needed.

“Paxton?”

“Um...yes, Hi Mrs. Vishwakumar” at the acknowledgment, Nalini felt comfortable enough to turn around.

Paxton was standing in the doorway, shuffling in obvious discomfort. What he expected her to say she didn’t know. Gods, neither did Nalini. Questions flew through her mind faster than she could catch them. She didn’t want to ask him about what happened, Nalini wanted Devi to share when, if, she was ready. Nalini realized, amongst these questions, that she didn’t know Paxton. Here was this kid, late in the evening comforting her daughter. She couldn’t even be upset that they were home alone when she recalled how broken Devi looked. All Nalini had done thus far was judge Paxton, he looked like a jock so she thought him dumb. She made these assumptions about him, that he’d peak in high school or that he was shallow or that he was a walking STI, but they were just that. Assumptions. This kid stayed with her daughter for she didn’t even know how long, she’d been cooking for close to an hour so it was at least that.

All these guesses and judgments were useless when she stood in front of him. Paxton had a rigid set to his limbs, Nalini thought it was probably from sitting in one position for so long, and he was still dressed in gym clothes. Paxton looked new in Nalini’s eyes and she regretted never wanting to know him before now. Nalini didn’t know where to begin, she wondered if he’d eaten.

“Would you like something to eat?” Nalini's silent prayer must’ve been heard because he accepted. She was being given another chance. She quickly worked around the familiar space, grabbing one of the good containers and piling more food than necessary, successfully straining the unyielding plastic. She was handing the meal over when she paused, they both had a hand on the object between them but Nalini couldn’t let go, not yet.

“Thank you, Paxton, really, I don’t know what happened and I won’t ask but I saw what you did for Devi.” Paxton had the decency to look a little shocked. He hadn’t heard anything. Paxton was too absorbed before. His mind was a broken record repeating only, Devi.

The moment shatters when the front door opened, “I’m home!” Kamala’s voice fills the silent home. With the trance broken, Nalini’s hold on the container falters and she drops her hand allowing Paxton to leave. Words were failing him so all Paxton could give was a tightlipped smile in response.

“Thanks for the dinner.” Paxton’s smile was looser now and that gave Nalini courage.

Kamala was unloaded the day around her but Nalini was focused on making this right, “You’re welcome to come by Paxton, anytime.” She could only hope Paxton knew just how much she meant those words. His smile was burdened but bright, he nodded strongly and then he was out the door.

Kamala was fixing the table for a very late dinner when she called for Devi to join, Nalini hoped she would. “Who was that? And why was he here so late?” Pure curiosity laced Kamala’s voice.

“Paxton is one of Devi’s friends. He’s a good kid.”

Those details were all she could provide before Devi came bouncing down the steps. Nalini couldn’t be sure if it was the fact of what she saw or reality but Devi’s movements looked heavier than they normally were.

“What’s up guys?” Devi’s voice feigned casualness, “Dang mom, isn’t it late for a thousand-course meal?” She questioned as she took in the lack of clear surfaces on the dinner table.

Nalini just brushed it off, indicating for everyone to take a seat. “So how was everyone’s day?”

Nalini wasn’t looking for Devi to share but this was her family. She would always want to hear how they were, plus it was tradition. As they consumed insane amounts of food they were bound to regret eating this late at night, everything felt so normal and easy. But something had shifted in Nalini today and even though it was new and she was scared to death of this person entering Devi’s life with the propensity to hurt her. Nalini can’t say she minded too much because it was Paxton. He had proven himself worthy of a chance, and Nalini wouldn’t soon forget it.

[foilfreak]

Beauty and Her Beast: Summary and Ch.1

A Salvatore Moreau x Female!FishMutant!oc fic based on this idea I had the other day that a very specific subset of the fanfom went absolutely apeshit for, which I'm here for and decided to act on. I can't make any promises for consistent uploading or even a finishes product by the end of this, but so long as im still interested in working on it, I'll keep working on it, and if im not, then I wont, plain and simple. Anyways, here's the summary and chapter 1, please let me know what you think of the story so far, i hope you all enjoy (you'd better all enjoy), and I can't wait to see you all again for chapter 2. Bye! <333 (Link to ao3 posting will be in comments so check there if you want to read it there instead)

Warning: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

Summary:

Now, I’m sure everyone already knows the ancient tales that tell of a beautiful young woman slowly falling in love with a horrific monstrosity of a man. The pure and true love this innocent beauty comes to feel for him, despite his terrifying appearance, is the key that breaks the cruel and twisted curse under which he’d been kept prisoner. This allows the man behind the monster to not only return to his true human form, but then go on to live his Happily Ever After with the beauty who saved him. Everyone already knows of these tales, as well as the messages behind them, however that is not quite the way this particular tale plays out.

The tale I am about to tell bears many similarities to the one above, however there are also quite a few important differences. For while the original detailed a beauty falling for a monster because of the kind and loving man he was behind his hideous exterior, this is a tale of a beauty, with a few monstrous qualities of her own, falling in love with a kind and loving monster, not at all despite his grotesque appearance, but rather, in part, because of it.

This is a tale, where the Beast still falls for his Beauty first, but the Beauty is the one who will be pursuing her Beast.

Chapter 1: Mother's Gift

Few of those who lived isolated from the outer world, high up in the mountains of Romania, would expect anyone of reasonable sanity to be out traveling in this hellish sort of weather. The wind howling a demonic high pitched tune; snow, sleet, and hail pounding into the ground like an endless shower of bullets from the heavens; and hungry lycans still roaming the area, tirelessly looking for their next meal, would be enough to incentivize even the strongest of mortal men to seek shelter away from the deadly conditions of the outside.

A man by the name of Salvatore Moreau however, one of the 4 lords of this mountain region who lived in the reservoir just past the windmills, did not appear terribly concerned with what other people thought of the traveling conditions. Completely unbothered by the horrifying weather and threat of suddenly being ground into doggy food, the hooded man trudged his way through the dark and barely maintained snow paths. Starting at the reservoir and making his way toward the village, Salvatore moved as quickly as his deformed body would permit, an unusually chipper spring added to his lumbering hobble of a walk.

Mother had a gift for him.

Yes, a truly joyous day it was whenever Mother Miranda called upon him to join her and the other lords for a meeting. Miranda was usually so busy with her experiments that she rarely had time to visit her children outside of these ‘family meetings’ they’d been having recently. However, it would appear as though Mother has come up with a solution of some kind to this problem and wishes to share it with them in person. Whatever this solution is, the mutated man has no idea, as Mother Miranda had been quite vague in her message, however the fact that Salvatore was being given the chance to see his radiant mother AND receive a gift from her, all in one day, was more than enough to make up for how agonizingly lonely he’s been these last few months since winter set in, as well as how agonizing it was for him to walk in this weather.

Salvatore arrived at the usual meeting site just as the clock struck 8pm, precisely as Mother had instructed. However, much to the hooded man’s confusion, when he turned the handle on the large wooden door to enter the room, he quickly realized that he was currently the only one present. This was especially strange considering that, usually, at least one of his siblings was always present a little earlier than necessary, usually Alcina or Karl, but occasionally Donna with Angie in tow.

Mother had clearly said in her message that she wanted to start the meeting at 8pm sharply, so where on earth is everyone?

“Moreau” Mother Miranda’s voice called out, immediately pushing all thoughts from Salvatore’s brain as her powerful, yet lucious voice echoed against the halls of the room like a choir of angels.

“Y-yes! W-what… is it… M-mother Miranda? I-i-i came to you… j-just like you asked” Salvatore responds, bowing his head in reverence as he slowly crosses the room and approaches the otherworldly woman.

“So you did, though I suppose you coming exactly when I call makes the most sense. You always were the most obedient of my children” the woman remarks with casual disdain, her voice devoid of any sort of motherly affection or tenderness. Despite the clear disgust and disregard with which Miranda regards the hooded man standing before her, her words light Salvatore’s soul ablaze, filling his mangled body with intense feelings of heat and desire that melt his heart of the cold, icy frost that had frozen it over the course of the long winter.

“Y-y-yes, y-yes of c-course, Mother M-Miranda! I-i would… I would do any-anything... for y-you. A-anything you s-say... anything y-you n-need… I’d d-do it... f-for you. W-without question!” The deformed man says, practically getting on his hands and knees and crawling as he neared closer and closer to Miranda, stopping only when he’d arrived just in front of the steps the raven mother stood upon, his gaze trained at the ground as he knelt at her feet, awaiting his fate at his mother’s hands.

“I know you would, Moreau,” Miranda says cooly, gently brushing the palm of her hand against the black fabric that covers the top of Salvatore���s head, “which is why I’ve called you here today; to reward you for your loyalty and service to me thus far.”

Salvatore sinks sharp and jagged teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood as he desperately tries to silence the needy whine that wanted to tear its way from the back of his throat. His body shivered and twitched in unimaginable delight from the sudden tender caress to his sensitive skin. How long had it been since someone had touched him so gently? How long since someone had spoken to him with such kind and soft words. Took the time to gather presents as a reward for years of faithful servitude? How long since someone had loved him like this?

‘Too long’ the disfigured man sighed to himself, reveling in the soft, gentle contact for as long as he is able.

“Moreau. Look at me” Miranda commanded firmly, and despite not wanting his beloved Mother to be forced to bear witness to his hideous face, he complied, lifting his head up and back to allow his gaze to lift from the floor and up at the glowing figure that was his Mother, his beautiful, incredible, intelligent, majestic mother.

The light shining down from above illuminates Miranda from behind. From Salvatore’s perspective on the floor, the light darkens her face and most of her torso and waist, giving a softened, almost ethereal glow around Miranda’s figure. This, along with the rest of her garb, makes Mother Miranda appear even more like the holy woman that Salvatore naively believes she still is. Despite her less than affectionate treatment of him thus far, Salvatore still stared up at the darkened face of Mother Miranda, his eyes shining with reverence, love, desire, and unending devotion.

“Y-yes... Mother?” Salvatore breathed, barely able to speak above a whisper as Miranda stepped away, gesturing for him to follow.

“Are you ready to collect your gift now?” The raven mother asks, speaking more softly than before and even holding her hand out to Salvatore, her pose and appearance mirroring that of a powerful god taking mercy upon her wretched follower, reaching out to reward the years of faithful servitude and worship.

Salvatore, barely able to keep himself calm as he stumbled to his feet, did not grace Mother Miranda’s question with a proper response, instead practically racing to take the woman’s outstretched hand in his own.

“I’m ready Mother… I-I’m ready for... my g-gift now… can I… c-can I have it n-now… p-please?” Salvatore begs, pulling at Miranda’s hand like an overly excited child, seemingly unaware of the disgusted twist of her face when the hooded man’s cold, slimy fingers firmly latched onto hers.

“Of course, my child” Mother Miranda says, pulling her hand back from Salvatore’s and instead placing it along the man’s hunched back, beginning to guide him to wherever it was the raven mother had hidden his gift.

As Salvatore limped next to Mother Miranda, the deformed man couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it was that Mother had gotten for him. Was it a new cloak, to replace the worn one he was currently wearing? Perhaps a new set of romance films so he didn’t have to rewatch the ones he already owned over and over again anymore? Or maybe it was something to help with his digestion?

It would be nice to get his chronic acid reflux under control again.

Regardless of what the gift actually turned out to be however, Salvatore was merely pleased that he was finally getting a chance to spend time with Mother Miranda all by himself for a change.

Maybe, if he was lucky, she’d even agree to hold him, just like she always did back when he was still undergoing cadou treatment.

Oh how wonderful that would be!

[echos-newlegs]

Hey there y’all, this is my first ever post and it was a request from a friend (idk their tumblr yet, I’ll probably just share it with them on Instagram lmao.) anyways it is a multiple part, Echo x Fem!Reader and you’ve landed on the first part! I will be linking the second part below after I make it. You can message me request too, and I’ll get to them before or after I finish this, I may do some prompt lists 😏 This is post and then Pre-Citadel. Reader has a daughter from a previous relationship and I promise it’ll get more interesting. I’ve never actually wrote and posted a story of any of the clones and I feel like I don’t do Echo any justice, but enough talk here ye be.

(P.S. c/n means child’s name. My friend was very specific with this request)

Part One - Part 2

Echo sat up at the bar. A drink in hand that he was slowly milking. His mind was everywhere but there. He was thinking about the war, sleep, his brothers he’s lost, who he could have and didn’t save. It was all a nightmare and a half. He’d honestly pay for just a simple hug from someone who wasn’t his brothers. Even from Ahsoka. Someone who he knew cared about him, but wasn’t part of him. If that made any sense?

So he stepped away from the bar with a sharp sigh. Patting Fives back. Gloved hand slapping against the others armor. “I’m gunna head for a walk,” “Want me to join ya?” Fives asked in a slur. He was obviously not milking his drinks like Echo was. Causing him to smile with a chuckle, “no, I’ll be fine, you.. Keep an eye on Rex.” He teased and Fives grinned. “You got it, vod.” He spoke and spun in his chair to face the other clones.

The moment Echo stepped out the door he felt a bit better. It wasn’t as stuffy and loud out as it was back in 79’s. Starting his little stroll with a small hum. He wasn’t even sure what he was humming. Just a ramble of tunes he had heard. “Mama, look!” He heard a voice shout. A little one. “C/N! Get back here!”a woman shouted and before Echo could turn around there was someone tapping on the back of his leg. “Mister, are you a clone?” Echo turned, raising an arm and looking down to the child. Brows furrowed, a small smile rising to his face. “Hello to you too, little one, yeah, yeah I am..” he murmured and the little girl squealed. “Mama it is a clone trooper! Are you one of the boys in blue? You have to be! I see you on the holo- Mama!” She rambled, and then shouted when you pulled her from Echo. “I am so so sorry about her.” You spoke. Bags of fruit and other groceries in one hand and stuffed under your arm. Your other hand now holding your daughters hand.

Echo was amazed by how much the kid knew. Smiling softly in amusement. Though he was even more amused when you came into view. You were breath taking, really. Running up behind her and pulling her back from him. Apologizing for the incident. Though he didn’t really mind. “Oh, no need to apologize ma’am, feels nice to be recognized by someone,” he joked, c/n whining a bit. “Mama, he’s part of the five oh first, I know it, I do. I was just asking him questions.” “Well baby, you can’t go running off like that,” “but mama-“ Echo kneeled and caught the girls attention, both of you actually. “You know, good soldiers follow orders, you need to listen to your mama, she just wants you safe,” he spoke. Smiling at the kid and she stared at him in awe. You watching Echo with an intrigued expression. “Yes, mr. clone sir.” She piped and Echo giggled at that. Nudging the girls shoulder. “At ease, solder, I’m an Arc Trooper, not a Captain or Commander, names Echo.” “Echo..” she whispered, “I’m c/n, and this is my mama, and she loves the 501st, and-“ you grew a bit flustered, laughing a bit nervously. “Okay hun, that’s enough. We should probably let him be now.”

Echo stood from where he was crouched, looking you in the face for a moment. “Can I at least help you with your bags,” “y/n,” he smiled as you said your name. “Y/n, it’s the least I could do.” He spoke and you smiled a bit sheepishly. Glancing down to the bags and then back to him. “Sure,” you gave in. You couldn’t say no. His eyes pleaded with you and you lost the battle. Though it wasn’t hard to convince you when help was offered. You handed him some of the bags and he took them. You stuck with less now since he took most of the heavy things. Giving you a look when you went to tell him it was fine. That you could carry them. “Least I can do for a supporter,” he added with a smile that had you smiling black and even blushing a little.

The three of you got to the apartment you lived at. You pulling out your key as your daughter rambled, somethings incoherent. Pushing the door open, your daughter running in, and you following. Turning to motion for echo to follow with a small grin. “C’mon, Arc Trooper,” you added with a grin, snickering slightly as he stumbled a bit through the door.

Echo sat the things down, looking around the house slightly before they landed back onto you. “Would you like to stay for supper?” You asked, putting away some of the groceries. “Nah, I don’t want to intrude.” You smiled, turning as you shut the fridge. “Please? It’s the least I could do, for a helper. Plus you’d make my daughters day, you guys are her hero’s.” You added and he smiled, “Alright, alright, you got me.” He added. Though he was going to say yes even if you would have just said please. He was hungry, and something other than rations sounded like an absolute blessing. Not only that, but he wanted to get to know you more. You intrigued him, you were beautiful and kind. Yet he barely knew you and already wanted to make this a normal thing.

While you fixed up supper Echo ended up wandering off with your daughter. The five year old grabbing his hand and dragging him back into her room to show him her toys. It made you a little nervous, even if he was a clone. You knew he wouldn’t hurt her, but you rarely left anyone alone with her. She was really all you had left. Her father leaving the both of you behind shortly after she was born. So you ventured back while you let some of the meat cook. Seasonings already filling the air and your senses. Peaking into the bedroom to see Echo sitting on the floor with her.. Playing. The sight shocked you more than it did him really. Standing, watching for a moment with a small smile on your face.

Echo was using the toy ship she had, flying it around and imitating noises as your daughter did the same. Brows knitted together just the slightest bit in concentration. “Ahhhh, your ships been hit!” She exclaimed and Echo gasped. “Oh no, Crash landing, or as General Skywalker would say.” “Surprise landing!” The two exclaimed at the same time. Causing the, to break into a fit of giggles. You bringing a hand up to your mouth as you leaned against the door way. Giggling a bit yourself.

Your little laugh made Echos head turn to face the door. “Ma- er- y/n,” “is the food ready mama?” Your daughter interrupted him, and you could swear he was blushing. “It nearly is, go get washed up honey,” you added and your daughter shot up. Tapping Echos shoulder, “C’mon, we have to wash our hands before we eat, Echo.” She stated with a grin and you chuckled as the two passed you to the bathroom. Catching Echos glance and shrug. Which cause you to giggle again. Catching him smile even more before he turned away,

The two came back, your daughter on his shoulders and you were dishing out food for the three of you. “Mama look! I’m big!” She was in a fit of laughter, and he was too. You hadn’t seen her so happy in what felt like forever. “You are, aren’t you?” You cooed a bit and watched as he pulled her off and placed her into a chair. Sitting in his own. “No, mama sits there,” she spoke and you furrowed your brows. “Oh sorry,” “I’m joking,” your daughter blurted with a snicker and you sighed. “She’s full of those.” You rolled your eyes as you sat and Echo seated himself again. Smiling at you as he sat across from you. “Does she get the sense of humor from you?” He asked with a brow raised. You meeting his gaze with a bit of a smirk. “Maybe she does,” causing you both to laugh a bit.

The three of you ate, but it wasn’t without conversation. You had your fair share of questions. Asking about the hand print on his armor. Why he was on Corusant and wandering. Instead of at 79’s like you noticed most other clones were. Which he has an answer for each question. Though he did seem a bit nervous almost. Once finished you instructed your daughter to get ready for bed. Though she was hesitant, she finally did shuffle off to the bathroom to brush her teeth and then her room to get dressed. Leaving you and Echo in the kitchen by yourselves.

You collected all the dishes and placed them in the sink, deciding to do them after he left. “Let me help you,” “You’ve done enough helping today, soldier.” You told him with a grin. “Sit back down, it’s fine.” You added, and he smiled. Doing as told, “yes sir,” he added and you let out a titter. He was so formal and cute.

You sat back down across from him, and he was staring at his hands. “Thank you,” you spoke. He looked up with his brows raised. “For helping, and making my daughters world.” You spoke and he shrugged. “It’s my pleasure, y/n.” You pressed your lips together. Watching him for a moment or two. “I’d love to have you back,” you words shocked him. Watching as your cheeks tinted pink and your eyes darted down to your hands folded on the table. “I mean, if you’re ever on Corusant again, I really enjoyed your company. Don’t find a lot of nice people anymore.” People. The word was vague, meaningless to most, but the fact you didn’t call him a clone made his day. You included him as someone, not what he was. “Plus it’d make c/n’s day.” He smiled and nodded. “I’d love to, I don’t find a lot of people willing to feed, let alone hang out with clones like me.” You scoffed a bit and chuckled. “You’re kidding right?” His smile faded a bit. “No?” “Echo, you’re absolutely wonderful, and I don’t see why People wouldn’t want to hang around you. What? Just because you share the same face with a million other people? That’s ridiculous and people are obviously missing out.”

Your words weren’t much. It wouldn’t mean much to a lot, but to him it was like poetry. Without the rhyming. “Thank you,” he nearly whispered. Staring at you in awe, and you smiled back. Reaching a hand out to place on top of his. It made him jump a bit, causing you to retract your hand. “No no-“ he blurted, clearing his throat. Eyes darting around. “I mean, it’s fine, you’re fine, I just don’t get touched often.” He spoke, voice light and faint. Looking up to you with tinted cheeks. You wanted to pull him over to the couch and just hug on him. He was so sweet, so unloved by those who weren’t his brothers and you could tell. Frowning a bit and you placed your hand back onto him. Watching as his expression changed a bit. Softened even more, if that were even possible. He seemed relaxed. You barely knew him and you wanted him to be as comfortable as possible.

A few moments passed. The two of you sharing glances and unspoken words. Which was soon interrupted by Echos com link. “Echo, we’re heading back, I hope you’re not getting laid right now.” Fives spoke over, drunken giggles following after. Echos tanned face flushed red. Eyes widening and his eyes darting down. “Kriff, I better get going, thank you so much for the food.” He spoke in a near ramble and you couldn’t help but smile. A small giggle following after. “Of course, you should come see me next time you’re in Corusant.” You added, walking him to the door. Both of you smiling like idiots. “Sure thing, how could I not?” He added and you directed your gaze down at the floor. Smiling a bit more. “I’ll be expecting to see you again, then.” And those words were enough to keep Echo fighting hard during the war. The two of you exchanging good byes. Echo making his way back to 79’s. Hoping Fives didn’t just up and leave him.

———————

[beauregard-s]

Take The Wheel (Richie Tozier x Reader)

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader (aged up)

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: NSFW. Sex, Oral (fem receiving), cursing and light dirty talking. Also mentions of alcohol.

Anon said:  “ alright for whatever reason I can only ever think of Richie concepts but that's okay he's my boy :0 Anyway, So like a Richie x Reader smut where Richie is teaching the reader to drive in an empty parking lot and he sits them in his lap so they're both in the drivers seat. And he gets a boner and then car sex boom that's the concept ”

A/n: I must say it’s some *chef’s kiss* concept. I really liked this one, and had a lot of Cigarettes After Sex’s help to write it lol. Hope I fulfilled your expectations, my dear anon.

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“Come on, doll, it’s your eighteen!”

“I already said no, Richie.”

It’s been years since you both realized you were too big to share the old hammock anymore, but you acted like it wasn’t an important detail. You and Richie had spent the afternoon laying there, he previously napping and now smoking a cigarette while you went through a thriller book Ben had lent you a couple weeks before and you were taking too long to return to him. 

Richie had his long hanging down, foot on the floor and here and there he’d swing you both from side to side, softly, in a way the had your eyelids fighting not to shut close. 

“What are you doing when I’m not around, then?” He teased once more, and it was enough for you to softly hit his ribs with your bare foot, since you two were so tangled in such little space that your legs rested by his sides.

“You’ll always be around, Trashmouth.”

“Maybe I won’t...” He blew smoke through his parted lips when you shoot a look, narrowing your eyes at him from over the book. The little lopsided smile he had made your insides tingle. 

Next week you’d turn eighteen and, until present days, you had not learned how to drive. That’d be a result of very strict and overprotective parents, alongside a not so irrational - in your thoughts -, but for sure overscaled fear of taking the steering wheel. 

Usually, Richie was the one driving you around on his beat-up truck, blasting Tears For Fears, an arm slung out of his window. Sometimes it was Stan or Bill, Mike and Ben were busier but they were always down to give you a ride if you needed it. Beverly was a heckin' reckless driver, but she was the one who usually took you shopping and even Eddie had rebelled against Sonia Kaspbrak to get his license. 

You were the last “baby” among the grown-ups.  

“Come on, y/n, I can teach you. I’m the best driver-”

“Stan is the best driver,” you corrected.

“Stan is bullshit!” he went, now pointing at you with his lit cigarette. “And you shall never say such fallacy again.”

You laughed his fake offended tone off, but, yeah, he was right. Stan could be the most prudent one, but he was too prudent even for your coward standards. Richie was, indeed, the best driver. Reckless, but not too reckless at the point of almost run over people on the street - like Bev did at least a couple times -, also he was surprisingly skilled, but had some worrisome courage, for sure. And he had got a few speed tickets, yeah, but he always knew what he was doing. 

Those facts, plus the way he kept looking and expecting at you made you roll your eyes and break.

“Fine, Tozier,” it was enough for his smile to widen up “but don’t blame me if I shove your car through a wall or something.”

He laughed and tickled your feet by his side, what made you jump on your place and kick him harder than the last time, earning a grunt of pain from him.

“Don’t worry, toots. I got you.”

**

It was an empty and probably abandoned parking lot behind the library. What on Earth could go wrong?

That was exactly what you thought when Richie set things up the last day, but, now, when you looked blankly at his truck parked there, with its doors opened, just waiting for you, it didn’t seem such a good idea anymore.

“Richie...” 

“No fucking way, doll, it’s the tenth time you call out for my name, not that I’m complaining.”

You threw him a pissed look, but of course it wouldn’t do any harm on those mocking eyes of his. But you looked better at Richie, right there under the golden hour light. His dark curls messed by his fingers and by the breeze that gently hit you, glasses always full of fingerprints on its lenses, but not hiding his narrowed eyes due to the clarity. He seemed more freckled than ever.

All of that made you tingle inside, again. Had been like that for a while now, and every time it’d happen, every time you’d feel that weird sensation, you’d just turn away from his view, not that bold to face whatever it was.

“Come on, toots, it won’t bite you! Let’s go!”

He placed his hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you to the driver’s side. You hopped onto the seat and Richie was so damn tall you felt you were miles away from the wheel and couldn’t even dream about reaching the pedals. He helped you adjust the seat to your height and ran around the car while you buckled your safety belt. 

“Fasten your belt.” You enjoined, the second he closed his door and looked up at you with expectation.

“For God’s sake, y/n, we’re just driving around the lot,” he scoffed, and you rolled your eyes. “Easy now. It’s no big deal, come on, start the car.”

Maybe you’d be able to focus and make your legs stop shaking, but Richie’s hand reaching for your thigh to supposedly soothe you down didn’t make it possible. And he stayed just like that when you turned the keys and the truck roared.

“Okay, now let’s switch the gear and loosen the handbrake...”

You had no idea of the amount of work involving getting a car to move. Richie kept instructing you and, for your disbelief, yes, he was a good teacher. He was clear as water when he told you what to do, and his voice went down to a soft and patient tone that made the tingling feeling hit you wave after wave. But even like that, you couldn’t put the thing on the road. The engine kept dying and you just weren’t coordinated enough to get it to move.

Richie and you switched places and he tried to teach you through visuals, letting you watch him as he drove around. And you really tried to. You focused on his hands but you wouldn’t absorb his moves. You’d just absorb how he firmly gripped onto the wheel and how skilled he moved the gear around. You tried to learn from his feet pressing the pedals, but your eyes would trail up to his sculpted side profile in the fading, cold light. How his lips looked soft, talking to you and dictating how you’d have to switch the gear every time the engine roared in en specific pleading way.

But you were fucking drooling over how handsome Richie Tozier was.

Before you had a chance to actually start paying attention to the mechanisms, he stopped the car like it all was the easiest thing. “See? Just like learning how to ride a bicycle.”

You tittered, not sure if you couldn’t keep up with all the steps on properly driving because there were a lot of them, or only because you just could take your eyes off Richie himself. 

“I don’t know... I mean, I think I just can’t coordinate enough,” you shrugged.

He shushed you immediately.

“No fucking way! You’re learning how to drive, and I’m teaching you, doll!” he raised his brows, his determination making you laugh again. Richie bit down his lip for a while, sitting sideways on the seat so he could face you.

“Do you want to sit on my lap, then? So I can help you?”

You slowly raised a brow and your brain sent off the red alert with a neon sign of “bad idea”.

“How messed up could this be?” You sneered.

“Not messed up at all, that’s actually how I first learn how to drive,” he smirked.

“Richie, you were ten, and no, pretending you’re driving isn’t learning how to drive,” you laughed.

You remembered that story very well, how Mr. Tozier would put Richie on his lap while driving around safe places when he was a little boy. But now this was a whole, dissimilar situation. 

Richie rolled his eyes, leaning in towards you, and you swore you were all hooded eyes at him. 

“Come on, doll, just like the truck, I won’t bite you.”

The red alert in your head went off even louder, but, still, with him that close and with the evening’s darkness engulfing both of you, your lips had a different plan than your mind.

“Okay...” it was what scaped through them.

And the way Richie smiled at that answer warmed your heart beyond what was acceptable. 

You unbuckled your belt as he pushed his seat back and even like that, fitting in between him and the wheel was a difficult task. You propped yourself up from the passenger seat, passing a leg over the gearstick to sit it between his. You both were a mess of legs and arms.

“Okay, toots, careful now-fuck!”

“Holyshit, Richie, did I hit you?”

“No, just my thigh. Big Richie’s okay...”

“I hate you.”

You managed to settle down to his lap, not too comfortably, but enough to access everything around you. To feel all of him beneath you.

“No way, sugar, you love me,” he whispered from behind, very close to your ear.

With a simple turn of neck, you could see Richie over your shoulder, and there was where he rested his chin. He took your left hand and placed it on the wheel, under his own. Your right hands together met the gear stick. 

“I’m starting the car now,” he warned. His hand left yours just for a moment, and his truck roared again. It vibrated slightly and that way you couldn’t help to friction down against Richie’s lap.

You thought you felt him stiffening up, but soon enough his hand was back over yours and he helped you switching the gear. 

“Now can I speed up?” You asked, trying your best to don’t look back at him, or else your lips would almost touch.

“Yeah, slowly. And keep those beautiful eyes on the road, toots.”

You did as he told you, slowly pressed your foot down the accelerator, and the truck slowly and finally left its spot under your riding.

You couldn’t help but smile. It was something really childish to do, but it was unconscious. Richie kept his right hand over yours, helping you through the gears correctly, his left one was supposed to guide the wheel with you, but as soon as he heard your giggles he let go, his arm resting lazily on his open window.

You only sped up to an acceptable speed to keep during a parking lot training, but it was enough for a breeze to blow through the open windows. You felt somehow proud, even if you have been strolling for five minutes in circles behind the library. You didn’t even notice Richie letting go of the bare control he had, but you were pretty aware of his hands falling down to rest on your thighs.

And you were pretty aware of the forming hardness underneath you. You could feel him, and every time you made a turn your hips would be dragged around due to physics causes you never understood while in high school. Every time that happened you could hear Richie sighing really close to your neck.

His thumbs traced circles against the skin of your thighs, right where it met the hem of your skirt. You were already relaxed back against him by now.

“I’m so sorry, toots...” You heard both a certain embarrassment, but also some guts in his voice. He was also pretty aware of what was happening, but you wondered if he was aware of the growing heat inside your chest, and the wetness inside your panties.

Or if he was aware of the way you “helped” physics by dragging your hips down onto his.

“Don’t be, Rich.” You muttered.

His hands went for yours again, and his feet took the place yours once had. Richie himself stopped the car and as soon as he turned the motor down you noticed how silent it was because he didn’t turn on the radio earlier, probably because he didn’t want to distract you.

But he ended up doing way more than that.

It was starting to get dark, maybe a little too dark. Dark in a level that’d be perfect to do hidden things and they’d remain safe under its cover. Maybe that was why you felt it was safe enough to turn your body slightly to the side, just enough to face Richie, and you two kissed in the dim light.

No words needed, not a single trace of hesitation because you both knew you'd been aching for this for a long time now. You parted your lips under his tongue insistence within time, tried to fought him for dominance. Absurdly unsuccessful that was. Richie had a hand through your hair, slightly pulling it so you couldn’t turn your face away from him. Little did he know you wouldn’t do that anyway. 

He was the one who pulled away after a while. You could tell he was smirking, eyes on yours, and then down to check on your already slightly kiss-bruised lips. He leaned in then, his nose softly brushing all the way up your neck, sending goosebumps through your spine just so he could talk lowly in your ear.

“I want you in the backseat, y/n/n.” 

You didn't know if it was how he sounded deep, or how he called you by the nickname that only he’d call you, nothing generical, but he made you whimper untouched. You just nodded and Richie pushed you off his lap gently, helping you to pass through the front seats.

You didn’t think car sex was comfortable at all, having experienced it in other guys’ sedans, but Richie’s car got some valuable space. It was enough for you to be dragged into Richie’s lap without your head bumping into the ceiling, as soon as he joined you there, kissing you as his life depended on it.

Richie smelled like smoke and tasted like mint chapstick and cola, and the way he held you so tightly against him was driving you insane alone. Slowly the darkness was taking over and you couldn’t see much of him, but you could feel him everywhere. Hands on your hips and crawling up your sides, underneath your top inch by inch. You couldn’t help to grind your hips down against his, earning yourself a low grunt every time you did that.

It was happening, and you couldn’t believe it. Richie and you've been friends over the time, but you’d be lying if you said you never looked at him in a messed up way, here and there. Mainly when you’d get drunk together in parties and he started to get extra flirty towards your horny self. And now, what you have fantasized about was happening.

“I want you down on me so bad...” You moaned.

You widened your eyes because it wasn’t meant to escape your lips like that. But it did and made Richie pull away from the spot he had been kissing on your neck, looking up at you.

You expected him to laugh or scoff, but he raised a brow slightly, lips curving in a way that had your legs weak.

“Don’t ask me twice, doll.” He mumbled.

Richie held you by your thighs before pushing you down to the seat. You propped yourself up to rest your back against the side of the car, ready to push shoes and clothes off, but he got different plans. Richie made his best to fit properly in between your legs, hands pushing your skirt up so it was lumping around your waist.

With no warning, Richie just pulled your panties down your legs, taking them off skillfully and shoving them in his pocket. With a smirk, he leaned himself down on you, drawing a bold lick all the way up from your slit to your clit.

You moaned louder than would be safe. Just the vision of Richie in between your thighs like that was enough to make you purr like a kitten, but the way he kept his eyes up just to watch what he was doing to you was top-shelf.

His hands were on your thighs, keeping you as spread for him as the space allowed, tongue flicking through your wet folds. And the motherfucker dared to hum against you.

“Fuck, y/n/n... How can you taste so good, doll?”

Your chest weaved up and down as you panted, a complete moaning mess. Your hands went for Richie’s curls, messing them up even more as he took turns closing his eyes to savor you, and then looking up at your blank pleasured face.

“Richie...” You cried out.

He pulled away for a second, thumb still rubbing circles on your clit to keep your pace.

“What, babe, are you gonna cum for me?”

You did. As soon as he reattached his lips to your heat again, you came by his mouth only.

Richie smirked satisfied at the way your legs were shaking and your eyes shut closed, still lazily licking you down your high, and as soon as your breath calmed down he was sitting back up, pulling you into his lap again, holding you so close you lost your breath.

When you and Richie kissed again, you could still taste yourself on his lips. Your hands fumbled with his jeans, unbuckling it quickly because you needed more of him. He groaned at your eager manners, immediately bucking his hips up so you could pull his pants and underwear down to his thighs.

“Holy fuck, Richie...”

You couldn’t hold it back when you looked down at his cock, fully hard for you. Richie didn’t praise himself for nothing. You felt like some stupid depraved girl, but Richie seemed to like it judging by the melodic laugh he let out. A laugh that quickly turned into a deep moan when you took him in your hands, pumping slowly.

The way Richie’s mouth hung opened when he breathed out heavily and the sounds that came outta there made you clench around nothing. You didn’t delay much before aligning yourself over him, slowly lowering your hips.

Richie cursed out loud, hands gripping onto your waist for his life as he threw his head back. Now you were the one observing how his chest went up and down fast, how he licked his lips with eyes closed in bliss. You had all of him inside you, every inch. He was stretching you out, yes, but he felt too good filling you up like that.

Richie finally looked at you, all hooded eyes and hands going for your shirt. He lifted the fabric enough to expose your breasts, mumbling something about loving that you didn’t wear a bra much often before attaching his lips to your nipple.

Your hands on his shoulders for support must have squeezed too tightly, but he didn’t seem to notice it under the loud moans you gave him. Richie’s lips slid from a breast of yours to the other, taking a time to kiss the valley between them.

“Ride me, doll...” He softly demanded, and you did.

You held tightly onto him when you started to bounce up and down very slowly, trying to adjust to him, but as soon as you picked up your pace the previously silent and dark truck was filled with both your moans. Richie was loud and it was something you expected and now his hoarse groans only drove you closer to your high.

He gave you a hickey on your breast, right before his lips escalated to kiss and mark your neck as well.

“How good you feel around me, y/n/n...”

You melted more in his arms every time he'd fill you up, every little nibble he’d plant on the sweet spot of your neck. You felt your muscles tensing, clenching tightly around Richie’s cock right before you came undone once again.

As soon as you reached the peak, your loud moans were muffled by Richie’s hungry lips on yours. When your legs went numb, he kept thrusting up into you, hands grabbing handfuls of your ass until he came.

Richie came moaning into your mouth, while you drifted away from your orgasm and your fingers caressed back the curls that covered his face. You could barely see him by now, but the few traces you could discern made you smile numbly.

Holy shit. You were in love.

You fucked Richie in his car, and now you were in love.

No, you’ve been in love with him for a long time but only now, when the facts were spread right in front of your eyes, you admitted it. Only now, feeling the numerous small kisses he was spreading all over your shoulder and collarbone, and how his cold hands cupped your breasts gently, only now you admitted it.

Things were silent for a while, while Richie had his face buried against the crook of your neck and you still cockwarmed him. You didn’t want to leave him, you were afraid that as soon as you put yourself together, he’d check you out off his hook up list and drag you back to the friend zone.

“I fucking love you, y/n/n.”

You still breathed heavily when he whispered that, but you immediately felt like your lungs stopped working.

You pushed Richie away from you, making him look at your face in the dark, although you could only see the little reflection of his glasses.

“What the hell did you just say?”

“Nothing, I-Shit...”

“Richie.” You were serious, and that made him bite down his lips, thinking he had messed things up with you.

“I’m fucking in love with you, doll.”

You kissed him.

The second he finished that phrase you took his face in your hands and kissed him. A long, slow, and breathtaking kiss.

Richie’s arms wrapped around your waist and his glasses were for sure getting dirtier touching your face, but he didn’t care about it and nor did you.

Only your lips parted away a few moments later, but you kept your foreheads together, eyes closed and hearts going a mile a minute.

“I’m fucking in love with you too, Trashmouth” you mumbled.

You smiled in a cheesy way and somehow you knew he was doing the same.

“Although you’re a bad a drive instructor who ends up fucking your learner”

“Shut up, y/n.”

You laughed together and Richie hugged you against him. That was for sure a not recommend spot to be parked at that hour, but none of you minded that. He was still inside you and you'd keep him like that for at least some moments more because you needed your legs to stop trembling and you also needed to feel more of him against you like that.

"Rich..." You furrowed your brows lightly, curled into his chest. "Where the fuck are my panties?"

He chuckled.

"They are safe, toots. And, by the way, those are mine now."

[lilhawkeye3]

Find Your Way Back Home- Ch 3

Riyo Chuchi x Commander Wolffe, Riyo Chuchi x Commander Fox

Rating: T |||| Word Count: 1.9k |||| Set Post Order 66 |||| AO3 Link

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Riyo gripped the kitchen countertop tighter than anything in her whole life. The loud pounding of her heartbeat in her ears threatened to drown out the pounding of her heart as she sought a tether point in her whirlwind of emotions.

She couldn’t do this.

How could she do this? The ghosts she’d left on Coruscant were now seeking shelter in her bedroom.

She’d looked at Wolffe laid out on her bed, and some sick part of her expected him to be Fox. She used to bandage her lover’s wounds on their bed in her old apartment. What had she done to deserve this cosmic taunt?

“Riyo?”

Riyo’s hands flew to her mouth to hold in her startled shriek at Ahsoka’s appearance just to her left. Her friend’s lips twisted into an apologetic smile, and she patiently waited for Riyo to come down from her sudden rush of adrenaline. Her rusty hand cupped Riyo’s elbow to help ground her.

“I’m so sorry,” Riyo murmured, blinking rapidly to hide her brimming tears before she met Ahsoka’s gaze.

The Togruta’s eyes were sad as she searched for the right words, despite them both knowing nothing would ease Riyo’s pain. “You see him.”

Riyo tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a gasp for air after so long underwater. “How can I not?” Her tears stubbornly refused to fall now, despite clamoring at the floodgates only moments ago. “I can’t… I can’t focus on this right now.”

“You can’t go back in there right now either,” Ahsoka calmly pointed out. “Wolffe needs to heal.”

And so grew her guilt. “I know.” She needed to do something to keep her hands and mind busy. “I’ll get some more juvan ready so I can make a cold pack and show Rex what to do. You’ll both need to know how for when you go back.” She tried to ignore the predatory way Ahsoka’s eyes followed her around the kitchen as she gathered supplies.

“I find that talking helps sometimes,” Ahsoka quietly suggested, once Riyo stood back at the sink with her items gathered around.

“I’m not sure I remember how to do that after so long on my own,” Riyo muttered, grabbing a bundle of leaves from a jar more harshly than they deserved.

“No time better than the present.”

Riyo paused to stare calculatingly at her friend. She wasn’t lying about not knowing if she’d be able to speak of her nightmares after so long bottling it all in. “I propose a trade.”

One of Ahsoka’s painted brows rose in interest. “A trade.”

“I will tell you if you update me on your… situation.” She’d tiptoed around the circumstances of her guests’ arrival– and unlikely survival– for the past few days.

“Alright, deal.”

Riyo’s hands hovered uncertainly as she tries to steady her breathing before she begins. Where to even start? She’d tried so hard to forget that night six months ago. Now she had to relive it in full.

“I… I was home for the night.” Riyo doesn’t even recognize her voice with how vacant it sounds. “Everything was normal, even when I got a call from Co– Thire.” She didn’t want to relegate them to their titles. Those men– her friends– were worth much more than that. “He’d call sometimes if Fox was too busy to come home.”

Breathe in, one, two, three, breathe out.

“There’s– there was a code phrase Fox had me agree to. Dusk is falling soon. If one of us used it in a communication, we knew it was from the other.” Her hands began to shake as she ground the juvan up. “Thire said it to me that night. He said I had to flee Coruscant while I still could, before I was marked as a traitor by the Chancellor. That Fox needed to know I was safe, because… because he didn’t think he was coming home.”

“Oh, Riyo…”

Riyo tried to laugh but she choked on her voice. “No, no it’s fine. Please don’t feel sorry for me, not after–”

Not after what you’ve lost. It hangs in the air like a shadow, chilling the two women to the bone.

She could feel Ahsoka’s eyes on her for a long moment before she conceded. “Alright. So you fled Coruscant?”

Riyo nodded. “Yes. I waited for him, but… then I gathered those I could and had a trusted pilot shuttle us off. It wasn’t just those from my office, though. There were several other members from Pantora’s allies that we also safely evacuated. It was beneficial in the long run, since the number of hyperspace jumps we needed to make ensured that we weren’t followed.”

“That was wise of you,” Ahsoka confirmed. “You most likely had been tailed. The Empire has been interrogating anyone they view even as having a potential to be rebellious.”

Riyo dipped her head in a gentle nod. “And I never was one of the Cha– Emperor’s greedy followers,” she added.

Her friend’s lips quirked up in a humorless smile. “No, you weren’t.”

“Anyways, I timed my resignation to autosend sometime during our flight, and I contacted Bail, who gave us directions to follow. That’s all there really is to tell,” Riyo sheepishly shrugged, relieved to be finished and able to turn her attention back to the juvan leaves she’d laid out. They needed to be diced and then ground with water into a paste that could be either frozen and saved, or wrapped in a damp cloth and held to the wound.

“So, my turn then?” Ahsoka asked, faux-cheer evident in her voice but appreciated.

Riyo nodded, thankful for something else to focus on. She beckoned her over though, waiting until the Togruta was looking over her shoulder. “Just make sure to watch how I do it, so you’ll be able to on your own. The leaves have to be separated carefully, or you’ll negate the medicinal qualities.”

Ahsoka observed quietly as Riyo worked, nodding along to each specific task that Riyo pointed out. It was quite simple, but an untrained eye would still mess it up. It was nice to have someone at her side. She’d been so used to being alone.

“We agreed on a trade?” Ahsoka prompted, once Riyo stepped aside and handed the knife over for her to try. “Would you still like to hear what we’ve seen?”

Riyo bit the inside of her cheek to try and keep herself afloat in the surge of stress that threatens to sweep her away. “Yes, please.”

Ahsoka nodded sharply, and then the knife made its first clean slice. “We were on our way back from Mandalore after apprehending Darth Maul– the Sith Zabrak,” she elaborated for Riyo’s sake. “And an order went out to all the clone troopers, everywhere in the galaxy: execute Order 66, to kill the Jedi.” Her fingers clenched around the knife handle to the point that Riyo thought it’d snap. “Somehow Rex… he fought it long enough to warn me to find a file about Fives, an ARC trooper that–”

Riyo could feel the blood drain from her face at the mention of that name, one she’d long forgotten. “I remember. Fox… he shot him, to protect the Emperor.” It felt like lifetimes ago.

In a twisted sense, it was. It’d been during Fox’s lifetime, when he still came home to her every night.

Ahsoka hummed in agreement. “Right. Well, Fives had told Rex that the clones all had control chips in their heads, and that a damaged chip had caused another trooper to shoot a Jedi. No one believed him.” Her shoulders drooped. “I was able to capture Rex and take the chip out of his head, and he was back to normal. I… I let Maul out of his cell though as a distraction, and he damaged the ship so it crashed into a moon. We lost the whole battalion,” she finished in a whisper, head bowed.

“Oh, Ahsoka,” Riyo gasped. She wasn’t sure how a hug would be received, so she placed a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

Ahsoka’s eyes were teary when she looked up. “Thank you, but please don’t be for me. I took a risk, and it was Rex’s brothers that paid the consequences.” She shrugged half-heartedly. “I’m glad we found Wolffe. There have been other clones that escaped, but Wolffe was always one of his closest brothers.”

A small smile slipped onto her face unbidden. “I’m glad for the both of them as well. How did you find Com– Wolffe, though? You all barely made it here,” she pointed out.

The Togruta sighed. “You know Bail’s been coordinating a lot recently. We were sent out on a mission to try and contact a defector from the Empire. They’re a medic, and they’ve been treating several troopers sent to them for abnormal behavior. We arrived to get them out, and Wolffe was their latest patient, but they were being watched.” She stopped talking to peer at her work cautiously. “Is this correct?”

She stepped out of the way so Riyo could observe her work. “This is very good for anyone’s first try,” Riyo praised her. “Now we just need to grind it with some water to get a thick enough paste.”

Ahsoka waited for Riyo to set up the next step before continuing. “We had the freed men escort the medic onto our waiting ship, but we couldn’t take Wolffe back to base because of his chip. I followed their instructions to try and deactivate it, but we had to leave in a hurry. It took us a few days and several firefights before we lost them well enough to get here.”

“Had no idea you’d gotten that good with a blaster, either.”

Riyo bit back a shriek as Rex’s voice piped up from behind them. Good thing she’d been using the mortar and not a knife, otherwise she might’ve cut herself. At least he had the decency to send her an apologetic smile once she whirled around to face him.

“Gee thanks, Rex,” Ahsoka huffed, reaching out to playfully slap his chest. The two of them shared a grin, and Riyo decided to study the wooden floor beneath her feet until they snapped out of it. She wouldn’t dare disrupt their small moment of joy.

“I came out to let you know Wolffe is asleep again,” Rex finally explained his presence after he shook himself free of their little bubble. “We spoke some, but he tired quickly.”

That was good. He clearly was suffering from some form of head injury, so any amount of time Wolffe was able to be awake and coherent was a step in the right direction.

“Alright, that’s wonderful news. We should be able to apply this compress despite that.” Riyo picked up the bowl of ground javun and gestured at a clean cloth folded on the counter top. “Would you grab that and come with me? I’ll show you what to do, so you know how in the future.”

A quiet grief crept up her spine with each step she took back towards Wolffe’s room. He needed her help. She could pull herself together for him.

Riyo entered the room alone and took the seat beside Wolffe’s still form. Rex would be along in a minute.

Until then, she studied the still man’s face, finding and cataloguing each unique feature of him and hoping it wouldn’t come back to haunt her like before.

[zodiyack]

Complications

Requested by anon: Okay so I had this idea where the reader is the daughter of Klaus's father (you know the werewolf) and she somehow gets caught up with the Mikaelsons and she is considered a part of the family (maybe she is a hybrid too) meanwhile there is a thing going on with Elijah (if you know what I mean). I would love if you could do anything with that idea and I can't wait to see it!! Thank you so much!!!

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Female!Reader, Niklaus Mikaelson + Female!Half-sister!reader

Warnings: Swearing, death mentions, indicated mentions of smut?, somewhat stalking, angst

Words: 1,849

Note: I hope you like it! I, again, got caught up on the idea haha

Key: Y/f/d = Your Favorite Drink

Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace​, @darling-i-read-it​

Masterlist | The Originals Masterlist

She watched him carefully, the trailing of her eyes hidden by the sunglasses that rested upon the bridge of her nose. After centuries of watching, waiting, timing, and searching; she’d found him.

“Excuse me, do I know you?”

But of course there had to be a catch to her luck.

“No.” She shoved past the person in a rush, not caring to see who they were... or rather, attempted to push past them, before they grabbed her.

“Not so fast, ma’am. I believe I do indeed know you. So please, answer me this; why are you always where my brother is?” Her arm was pulled back roughly, causing her sunglasses to fall off her face. “You’ve taking a liking to him too, hm?” The smirk that she loved oh so much graced his face.

“Elijah...”

“Hello to you too, my love.” His grip on her arm softened and was used to pull her in for a kiss. “I haven’t seen you in a long, long time. Why is that?”

It wasn’t as simple as she’d like to say it was.

How on earth do you tell your boyfriend of many centuries that his brother is your half brother? That you’ve been stalking him because you were too chicken to introduce yourself. That you were too chicken because you believed he would turn you away with genuine disbelief?

She shared the same dad as Niklaus, but their mothers were...different. Klaus’ being a witch, and Y/n’s being another werewolf. So her relationship was Elijah was acceptable if one were to look at the whole picture.

How she became a hybrid, wasn’t too different of a story. Esther had been talking to Ansel through a Hand Of Glory, when he brought up his daughter. He pleaded to the witch, begging that she be spared from Mikael’s rage. He wanted her to be indestructible to Mikael, or at least given a chance to live her life, a good life.

So she obliged. After the situation had been introduced to her, Y/n had agreed to be, and was, turned into a vampire in secret before Esther instructed her to run as fast as her feet could carry her, to run and never stop. Eventually, word of Mikael’s death had spread, and Y/n began to be more obvious about her search.

Esther didn’t have to tell her about her affair with Ansel, not that she had the chance to anyways, as Niklaus’ actions caused talk to begin. Even before he’d broken the curse that bound his werewolf-side.

Before Mikael was vanquished, she would subtly appear in events held by the Mikaelsons, events held by humans, events held by the supernatural community, sometimes even just lurking around in public. All of which, of course, ended with her leaving Elijah’s bed.

He was the only Mikaelson to know of her.

She didn’t intend to catch feelings for her half-brother’s brother. But it happened. Just as she didn’t intend to be the second, and the only other, Original Hybrid.

“I... I’ve been busy.”

“You stay with me for a day or two and then disappear for a random number of months or years. Is this business your affair?”

She quirked a brow, “Affair?”

Elijah chuckled, pulling her close to him, burying her head in his chest. “All I’m asking is if this business is tearing you away from me. Just as an affair would a couple.”

“It’s...complicated.”

“Y/n, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but everything about immortality is complicated. You can talk to me, you know?” His face contorted with concern as she pulled away from him. “Is it about us?”

“No, Elijah, it’s not...” She sighed, “Like I’ve said. It’s-”

“Complicated.” Y/n nodded, averting her eyes and chewing on her lip. Elijah’s hand lifted to cup her face, forcing her to meet his brown orbs. “That’s fine with me.”

“It’s a long story-”

“And we’re immortal. Come with me, Y/n.” His eyes flickered across her face, studying for any signs of hesitation or rejection. “We can talk about it over a cup of y/f/d.”

As she entered the Mikaelson’s home, her breath hitched. While she would be getting both of what she wanted, she wasn’t sure she was as ready as she convinced herself she was.

Backing out was no longer part of the deal, as Klaus had already begun to approach the couple.

“Well well well! Could it be?” He was loud, announcing his surprise to the rest of the family. “Has Elijah finally removed the stick from his ass?”

“I can remove it if need be. But that’s not the reason she’s here.”

“So he hasn’t claimed you?” Klaus’ gaze shifted to Y/n, brows lifted with amusement and interest.

Her happy expression morphed into one of disgust. It wasn’t his fault, she knew that, but the thought of her half-brother hitting on her was...not enjoyable. “I’m afraid he has. However, he is correct.”

Klaus waited, expecting her to explain; the context missing from both of their dialogue. “Correct about what, love? I’m going to need a little more than that.”

“He’s correct about many things, but to be specific, I’m talking about the reason I’m here. It has no relation to our love-life.” She walked to the cushioned seats, sighing and patting the one in front of her, “You might wanna sit down.” They stayed in place. “Both of you. Sit. Now!”

Y/n started off the conversation slow and easy, explaining her place as an immortal. “I have...refrained from telling Elijah my story due to the fact that I’d like to be the one to tell you, on my own terms and timing.”

“Tell me?” Niklaus scoffed with a mocking chuckle, which slowly died down as he noticed the seriousness in her glare. “You’re serious? ...Well? Get on with it!”

“Patience, Niklaus. She said it would be told on her own timing, did she not?” Elijah’s eyes never left Y/n, narrowing with interest.

“Thank you, E. Anyways...yes. It involves you, Klaus.”

“Tell me, Y/n, how involved in this am I? Ooo, am I your soulmate or any of that annoying, not to mention make-believe, rubbish? Or am I your long lost lover that you somehow managed to make me forget about? Oh, oh! Am I-”

“You’re my brother!” Her outburst was caused by his nagging. The annoyance was far too much for her handle, but that wasn’t new with anyone who knew Nik.

Elijah’s lips pressed together tightly. His eyes, as well as his brother’s, were widened upon the new information.

“Doesn’t that...yeah, that’s gross. Huh- And you knew?” Kol chimed in, leaning against the wall with amusement, as well as a twinge of genuine disgust.

“No! It’s not like that! I’m not related to you, or Elijah, or Rebekah, or Fre-”

“How do you know about the rest of us, love?” She was starting to get annoyed with the younger Mikaelson, despite having just talked to him for the first time.

“Kol. Let her get to it on her own t-”

“Timing?” Klaus laughed. “Well look how that turned out. I’d like it if you answered my brother’s question, Y/n.” He looked deep into her eyes, as if trying to compel her. She simply laughed in response. Klaus sat back down, full of confusion.

“You can’t compel me. Like I said, I’m your sister... Well, half sister. Ansel was my father, my mother...another werewolf. He impregnated her a tiny bit after he did so with your mother, so I’m not that much younger than you. Not even close to a year.”

“How are you still alive then?” Kol made his presence known, yet again. “And how can we not compel you?” 

“Because. Esther preformed the spell on me just as she had all of you. It was,” her head turned back to Klaus, eyes beginning to drift to the floor, “our father’s idea.”

Klaus grunted, "That’s a lie, and you know it.”

“No. It’s not. And you know it.” Y/n stood up, running somewhere and returning with her vampire speed. “That prove it? I’m a hybrid too, Niklaus. Sure, Esther never told me about you-”

“Our father died not long after we were turned. There was no way he talked to my mother.”

“Ever hear of a Hand Of Glory? She spoke to him, and apparently, from what she told me, he wanted me to be spared from Mikael’s rage. So, she turned me too. Instructed me to run, and I did. I just... I couldn’t stay away from you guys.”

“She’s telling the truth...” Elijah’s eyes were focused on the stone flooring, expression revealing how deep he was in thought.

He remembered. The girl dancing next to Tatia, masked, yet still breathtaking. He just never noticed her fully until now. Then there was her random appearances over the years.

“And how would you know that?” Kol chuckled.

“She was there. Dancing with Tatia. Dancing with the princess. Talking amongst the witches. Caring for the werewolves. Think about it, brothers. We’ve seen her many times, and the only one who actually got close enough to remember was me...”

“So you were the one calling out his name during the flop of a birthday party Rebekah attempted to hold for him?”

“I heard that!” She stormed down the steps, saving Y/n from the reddening of her cheeks. “And I believe her. She’s family, whether Nik likes it or not. Whether you,” her finger jabbed Kol’s chest harshly, “like it or not.”

“So it’s not weird that I’m in love with Elijah?”

“I mean...it’s a little weird without context, but knowing the full story... Well let’s just tell people that you’re married and that’s why you call Nik your brother. The full story can be reserved for those who need to know it.” Rebekah chuckled nervously. It was a relief to have another woman in the family.

“I like that idea...but why pretend that we’re married?” Elijah’s voice held a suggestive tone, catching Y/n by it’s hook.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well...why pretend when we can make that idea a reality?” He shrugged, as if he was offering a casual proposal, not one for marriage. “I mean, unless you’d rather have people think...”

“Oh god no. Please, marry me as soon as possible. I’d rather marry the love of my life and get to live with my brother, who, by the way, I’ve been searching for for a very long time, than have to explain our...complications.”

“Yes, well, little sister, you’ll have to explain those complications to me. I’d really...um...like to hear more about you and all that...” Klaus trailed off, embarrassed of his sudden softness. She was family, but he had yet to grow used to her, to grow used to being brotherly to her.

“I’d like that.” His worry ceased, and relief greeted him. “Just you, me, Elijah, Kol, Rebekah, Freya... and our complications.”

“Ah,” Klaus stood to his feet, walking to the table and pouring drinks, “yes,” he handed one to each of his siblings, aside from Freya due to her absence, “what would the Mikaelsons be without those wretched things?” 

[collectionofcherries]

👀couldnt help but notice you talking about hannibal in your billy loomis imagine 👀 also couldnt help but to notice thats in your fandom list 👀 maybe you should shoot your shot with an imagine with hanni 👀

So over on my Naruto blog I did a little fluff piece called Morning Coffee that everyone seemed to enjoy so I thought I'd bring it here. It’s a simple concept, it follows your morning to the start of your cup to the end of it. Hope you enjoy! --- ☕ Morning Coffee ☕

---

written in the mind-frame of a Female!Reader but there are no pronouns mentioned nor gender specific anatomical body parts.  Warnings: None, flirting with the idea of smut but no actual smut. Sexual longing maybe? Word Count: 1,155

--- Hannibal Lecter

   Having coffee with a friend shouldn't have been this stressful, being this stressed in the morning couldn't be good for you but it wasn't like you could help it. How are you supposed to dress for morning coffee with a man who practically lives in three piece suits? Formal? Business casual? Casual casual? Your clothing covered floor seemed to bare no answers as you stared at what you swore was everything you owned...had everything always been this ugly? God! Why did you even propose a breakfast together? Hannibal does dinner but no you had to pitch breakfast to be different and try to impress him, yeah you're sure he'd be impressed by the amount of clothing on the floor. If you'd been like everyone else and just gone for dinner you'd have more time to try on clothes but a look at the clock told you that you had to leave now or you'd be late and that'd be terrible, that'd be rude and Hannibal can't stand people who're rude. However messy your floor was it was worth it for the compliment you got when Hannibal opened his door to greet you. “I don't see you in colour often, red looks lovely on you.”     Well, guess you're wearing red for the rest of your life.     "Oh thank you.” Finds it's way out of your throat as your face is painted the colour that apparently looks lovely on you.     “Please, come in.” He welcomes stepping to the side to allow room.    You never gave much thought to what a foyer could be, yours is technically where you just kick off your shoes and put your keys but this, this was proper foyer. Just the entrance to his house was nice. God it was big too, he could probably rent it out to a poor college kid for like 500 bucks if he wanted not that he looked like he needed the extra money. Did you even know how to say Foyer properly? You bet Hannibal did, without a doubt he knew all those fancy French words--was that word even French? Oh no, what if you were stupid and it wasn't French? What if this wasn't even a foyer? How dumb were you? H-- hands came up to your shoulders jolting you out of your spiral. Hannibal gently pulls the edges of your jacket and you immediately understand. “Thank you.” You repeat once again.    He smiles with a nod as he slides your jacket off of you with your help and hangs it up on a beautiful wood stand you're sure costs more than half your rent. Thinking about how much money was within these walls could make your head spin but that spinning is halted by the soothing tones of his voice. “Lost in thought?” He inquired.    “Uh, just early morning brain fog you know?” You try to bluff.    It's not convincing but he nods anyway. “Perhaps some coffee would help.”     “Sounds good.” You agree.    Following him through his house only furthers your awe, you could spent a lifetime in here just looking at stuff. “I thought it'd be pleasant to make breakfast together instead of having it ready, eating together is one experience but preparing a meal is another entirely.” He explained    The idea of sharing an experience with Hannibal was one that filled you with butterflies, the more you thought about it you didn't think you'd heard of Hannibal cooking with anyone else, maybe the stress of this morning would pay off after all. “I'm not a chef but I'll do my best, what're we making?”     “Uova al purgatorio.” Which leads to a bit of a blank stare on your end, as pretty as it sounds you've got no idea what that means. “It's an Italian dish, eggs in Purgatory.” He explained.    “Sounds interesting.” You quip.    “It is, the name comes from the eggs sitting in a tomato base, the white of the eggs floating within the red sauce giving the illusion of souls trapped within the unknown of Purgatory.” He explains as he prepares the boiling water for your coffee. “Even at breakfast it seems we wonder where our souls go to lay.”     “Well makes sense for Italy home of the Pope, I'm sure there's religious overtones at most meals.”    He smiles a little and nods. “During my time in Italy it truly does surround you, it's an interesting feeling, almost euphoric to be encapsulated by it at every

turn.” He remarked.    “Wow, you spent time in Italy? It looks beautiful there.” You say, trying to stray a little further from the religious aspect, you don't exactly know where Hannibal falls on that spectrum and the last thing you want to do is come across rude or disrespectful to him. “Coffee smells great.” You add as he pours the boiling water into his very fancy looking French Press.    Your attempt to change subjects doesn't go unnoticed at all but he once again nods as he looks at you. “Yes, I traveled quite a bit in my youth, I called Italy my home for some time.” He explains.     “Do you ever miss it?” You ask    “I take with me what I relish in the places I've been, while I may no longer be surrounded by the Primavera or the walls of Santa Maria della Concezione dei Cappuccini they are ever present in my mind, reproduced with the utmost detail.” You could listen to Hannibal talk all day, it wouldn't matter what he said you just like the way he said things, the timbre of his voice. “Have you ever given thought to travelling?” He prodded.    “Course, who doesn't think about travelling? See far off places, experience new people, new things, different cultures.” You reminisce.    “What stops you?”     You shrug a little. “Funds mainly but I'd want to take the time to learn the language of where I'm going, understand the culture so I don't offend anyone. I don't want to be one of those tourists that makes an ass out of themselves.” You said cringing at the end.    “It's considerate to take the time to understand a culture you will not live in, many go on whims like they're visiting amusement parks.” He agreed. “Would Italy be a place you'd like to visit or would you find their taste for religion leaving a sour taste in your mouth?” He asked.    Did you really think you'd get out of a question Hannibal wanted answered? You shrugged a little once again trying to make sure you phrase things that wouldn't step on toes that were in shoes that likely cost more than your rent. “I'm unsure...I don't know if my broader and more open views would be welcome in the narrower scope of such a religious place and I wouldn't want to impose myself or my views upon anyone.” You slowly clamber out as he pours two cups of what smells like incredibly coffee. “Thank you.” You quickly add as you take it from his hands.    “While I do know you enough to welcome you into my home, I'm not sure if I know you well enough to know of the open views you believe would be scrutinized under the gaze of the Church. Do you speak a broader view of all religions? Racial rights? Sexual appetite?”     You stomach almost leaps into your throat at the last question, talking sexual appetites with someone who could feed that said appetite for the rest of your life? How were you supposed to talk about that? You didn't want to impose but you certainly didn't want to miss any chance of feeding that appetite. “All of the above, you know?” You pitch at first. “I'm a big believer in religious freedoms for everyone, from anywhere--just freedom for everyone in general.” You tackle first, that's the more important one and the one that won't get you into any trouble. “And um--yeah I suppose my sexual appetite wouldn't please the Church.” You say with a small laugh breaking your gaze from Hannibal and down at your coffee cup. “Not exactly a born again virgin.” Smooth. Great job. Wow. Fuck. Maybe you could drown yourself in this coffee? You take a sip and to spite being too shy to ask for sugar or milk this coffee is great, actually smooth. Unlike you. “This is great, what is this?” You try.    Why do you try? He always notices, you're luckier than you know that it endlessly amuses him rather than annoys him. “It's Peaberry Coffee from Tanzania, it's a rounder sweeter bean, almost tea like.” He explains, allowing for a moment for you to believe you've somehow fooled him into letting his prior question go thoroughly unanswered. “It can take a more refined palette to taste all the notes.” He remarks.    “I don't know how refined mine is, I just know it's nice.”

You admit with a small laugh.    “Usually our tongues know more than we think, close your eyes and allow the flavours to dance over your tongue.” He instructed.    Hannibal could tell you to jump off a cliff and if he said it nice enough you probably would. You take a small breath and take another sip and try your damnest to impress Hannibal if only even a little but as you swallow you know your guesses are little more than shots in the dark. “It's sweet...kind of like a berry...?” You weakly pitch.    You're not wrong but Hannibal can tell your guess isn't confident. “Do you know you have a habit of coming in on yourself when you're unsure of what you're saying?” He asks letting you know he's been on to you for much longer than you would have hoped. He comes around from his large kitchen island to stand in front of you and you fight the urge to step back and away which only adds to how hard your heart beats in your chest. “Coming in on ones self allows negative neurons to fire, by simply lifting your head you'll allude more confidence and though red looks lovely on you so does that.” That compliment alone made your head spin so his next action of bringing his warm hand up to gently lift your head? Your entire body felt weak. It was laughable that the simple touch of his thumb resting on your chin and his forefinger below it could have such an effect on you, looking up at him him with unsure eyes as to where this went next was laughable to him. You were putty in his hands, vulnerable in every meaning of the word. "Try again, close your eyes and when you take a sip allow it to work around your mouth, to explore every inch of your tongue.”    Was this porn? This could be porn, this might as well be porn as far as your body was concerned apparently. It took you a moment to actually get your limbs to move and grab your coffee again and it felt good to close your eyes, you liked Hannibal but being so close and having him stare back at you was overwhelming. And he knew it, there was something very satisfying about your kind of vulnerability, it was raw and open for him to touch and mold with his hands. You brought the cup to your lips and took another sip and once again tried to find a defined note in this coffee and maybe it was having your head tilted up, maybe it was having him so close but an answer did come from your mouth. “Cedar?”    Opening your eyes you knew you'd gotten it right by the contented look you were rewarded with. "I had a hunch your tongue knew more than you were letting on.” He teased.    He let his thumb trail back and forth on your chin before moving it away and your head felt like it was floating. “What does your tongue taste? I'm sure it's much more experienced than mine.”     You're sure if you didn't feel so floaty such a blatantly flirty question wouldn't have come out of you but it seemed to fly just fine as a small amused breath made it's way out of him. “Your assumption would be correct.” He let you know. “The notes in this coffee I've become very acquainted with over the years so it wouldn't be much of an exercise in taste for me to tell you them all. Perhaps another breakfast we could expand upon both our tongues.” Your entire body clenched and you had to practically drown out your whine of want by taking a sip of your coffee. “For now we'll be expanding on yours, come, wash up I'll show you how to make uova al purgatorio, a taste from my past.” He said walking back around the kitchen island.    You follow him around the island and with one last sip put your empty coffee cup into the sink. --- ~Admin Coral 🍒 Buy Me A Coffee?

[mooniehsh]

Just like he was before

Lucifer meeting his daughter for the first time

Obey Me! Lucifer

 (OC’s daughter just to be clear) 

Warnings: A little bit of angst, just a tiny portion of it... yeah... 

(I’m really sorry if the characters doesn’t seem like themselves. It’s the first time i tried to write something with them, and I’m not that sure that i make everyone accurate) 

I'm 99.9999% sure that i might write about this again. It’s such a fun concept, and i apologize about my grammar. English is not my first language. 

Enjoy! 

- Made by: Ace (MT)

Gif not mine

Lucifer was livid, but that was not the exact word to describe how he was feeling at this moment even though it was close to it. He was anxious, waiting, and walking towards Diavolo’s chambers with stress and curiosity running through his veins and messy heart. Anticipating on firsthand that the prince was calling only to inform him about a problem with his brothers, or maybe a usual meeting about work, and that was the main topic he had on his mind when he called him... but no, luck doesn’t exist for him. So when Diavolo spoke about his lover as the central problem in this call he was speechless.

Not to say that he was terrified in a way...

But he decided to calm down, thinking of a reasonable cause of why the young prince had called him specifically about her.  And when he reached some possible motives, he decided to shut up and not bring expectations to the matter.

 Let it be a surprise", he thought immediately when fateful scenarios crossed his mind, she is not in danger I know it. Did he believe in his own words? This time: no, he did not. But as he said before, let fate decided for him and not bring speculations to an uncertain future. 

And the great moment had to come. He walked towards the entrance, heart on the mouth, begging himself to behave and not lose his mind in the process. 

“She is a strong woman. whatever is the matter I’m sure is not that complicated” 

But only if he knew exactly what was behind the doors he definitely would be beyond terrified, maybe even confused

And what a lovely surprise, that’s exactly how Diavolo view everything in the room: confusion and pure excitement of the creature sitting on the edge of his sofa, waiting for a word to be spoken.

But it was the other way around, he wanted to hear her voice, know more of the girl who reminds him of an old friend… how strange, he thought her parents liked to talk. 

- My lord, I think we should call Lucifer a second time

 - There is no need. He will be here soon, fear not my friend-The butler nodded with his head, looking over the woman in silence one more time. And he smiled, laughing inside for the similar looks she shared with the new guest coming to the palace in no time. – So, you said your mother wasn’t coming to meet us. Is she sick? -Diavolo asked for the third time, making the young girl exhale for the curious question. She did not want to talk, but she did not have to answer with words, so a simple shake of her head was enough.

But was Diavolo satisfied with it? Of course not. So, with that in mind, he asked again -Does she knows that you’re here? -She let escape a simple laugh from her lips, opening her mouth, making the prince wait anxiously for her voice to be heard once again.

- She’s occupied with mortal duties -She responds, gaining a sly grin from Barbatos, who was curious to know if the girl was frightened of Diavolo thanks to the fact that she had not made eye contact with the man in this whole time, except when they introduced themselves of course. But deep inside, he believed that it was more out of respect. Lucifer sometimes does that, so it would make so much sense if it were the actual reason…

How thrilling the day was going to be…

- She is a doctor, am I right? It is a good profession, more with these difficult times, don’t you agree? – She nodded, playing with her phone, cursing under her breath at the moment she noticed that it was completely dead, no battery that would help distract her from the intense gaze of the demons over her body

Mother was right about this; it was going to be a little uncomfortable…

- Mortal phones do not work down here, I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. -She threw an apologetic smile at him, making eye contact for the first time in that long-languishing moment. And with that, Diavolo chuckle filled the room, spreading the humor towards his butler and creating a weird tension on her shoulders

She did not understand how her dear mother passed one whole year with these kinds of things… she was a warrior with no doubt

-  Has anyone ever told you how much you look like your father? – He had no idea… hearing the same thing from close people with knowledge of the realms was overwhelming and frustrating. But it was something she learned to normalize, until now, of course. She was there to discover for herself the truth in those words, to see if they were lying or not.

Her father was a great enigma that never had a beautiful or tragic response, and if no one dared to respond it then she was willing to sacrifice her life to search for the long-waited question 

And the same thing goes for Lucifer, whose palms were sweating from the nervous heat he was feeling inside, but that didn’t stop him from knocking on the door three times. He waited, standing in front of the golden gate, quieting his mind with delayed work, supposing this was something insignificant and momentary

But the surprise was more than alarming to him than the call that the prince dared to make minutes ago. His eyes grew bigger in honest astonishment, locking his lungs with the thin air at the simple sight of a woman, whose steps were getting closer to him in the same moment when Diavolo said something about taking her to the house of lamentation.

Lucifer was not listening to one word that fell from the mouth of his dear friend. For the first time in millennials, he never expected to find someone so intriguing yet so dangerous to meet. And his mind finally exploded when Barbatos said something about a beautiful family reunion, pointing out how much of siblings they could be if the daughter- father thing never existed between them.

- You call me for this…? -  His tone lacks the true feelings he had inside, making him sound so cold and sour that the girl couldn’t help but mock him with a confused grin. So, he was her father? 

The great lucifer was nothing other than a tired and young man whose first impression was to criticize the meeting they were having? No wonder why uncle Sol used to talk so bad about him…

 -It was a surprise, I’m sorry if made you panic but I believed it was something very important… Lucifer, meet Miss Van Doren, your lovely daughter- And the world stopped only for him to digest that tiny information.

It was her; it looked like her, but somewhat different from what he expected… 

His beloved told him about the pregnancy long ago, something he agreed to have but for details like work and difference between worlds he never got the chance to see the beautiful newborn that he created with the love of his life. He only saw through photos her baby face, how pretty she was with so little age that made him question if it was his child. 

But when his work started piling up, Lucifer had little time to check his telephone, decreasing the chats he used to have with his lover, and with it, the photos of her daughter… 

Sometimes he even forgot that he had a phone in the first place

And so, he never got to know what his beloved daughter looked like today. Until now… 

-Luci? Are you listening to me? 

-Yes! Yes, I am… -He was not, Diavolo knew that immediately. Anyways, he repeated the same instruction twice, making sure the man in front of him was paying close attention. And this time, Lucifer heard everything - You want me to take her to the house of lamentation? - Diavolo nodded with a smile, barely touching the back of the girl, pushing her closer to her father and the man was more than astounded right now. 

Who would think that a demon like him gave life to someone that radiates the aura of an angel? She was a Nephilim, of course, but he was so sure that she could be easily mistaken by an actual angel with just one glance at her 

She was the vivid image of him, and it was scary. How her eyes were so dark but yet full of light, looking at his reflection in them, knowing that she was doing the same in those ruby orbs of him. And her hair, falling almost over her shoulders with gracious black curls, just like the ink in the books he used to read to her mother. The length not too long or too short, resembling a little like her mama at least. 

It was like looking at the mirror, looking at his figure when he was part of the celestial realm. Is this possible? He was a demon now, but here she is, radiating such a pure aura and soul… 

-The others might want to meet their niece, so it’s a good opportunity to know each other. But save some space for tonight, I need to know more about her… you never told me about your affair with Jules- Because he never craved to mix personal stuff with work, but it looks like he needs to do it now thanks to this little secret. -Anyways, I hope you have a wonderful day. -And with anything else to add, they started walking towards the exit, being the palace a place so quiet that even their breaths sounded like huge lightning bolts. 

Lucifer initiated the conversation, not even daring to see the girl at his side, and it looked like she didn’t want to do the same. 

-Your mother… why did you come alone? How did you enter? 

- My uncle helped me… -Her velvet voice took him by surprise, but her words charged against him so fast that he stopped, analyzing the phrase with a confused look in his factions. 

- Uncle? - He raised a brow, while his daughter stopped her steps a few meters away from him but with a low voice she assured him that this help didn’t come from his brothers. 

- Solomon, you know him, right? -Of course, the shady magician always comes to help this tiny family. First, it was Jules when she messed up something with chemicals, and now, his child. 

- You have no idea… -Should she ask? In her mind, that attitude was kind of similar to the man mentioned before. Do these two men hold a grudge against each other? She never questions Solomon about these types of things, more because he never answered… -And your mother? Did she agree to you coming here? All by yourself? -She inhales thin air, looking at his figure getting closer and closer. In every book or website, they described this man as intimidating, but he wasn’t. Hell, she even thinks her mother can do the same thing and she would be terrified knowing it was a sign of frustration… 

- … I sneak out, so no, she doesn’t know that I’m here. - And a side of him appeared at the terror her mother must go through if she found out. That was somewhat inconsiderate on her part, to leave without telling her where she was heading 

- Do you have any idea of how frightened your mother must be? You cannot come to the Devildom like this, it is very irresponsible. You could have been attacked by another demon or worst, your aura would easily attract them, and nobody would know you were here. -She wasn’t awaiting him to scold her in their first meeting, but due to the circumstances sooner or later it would be expected to happen. 

So she waited until he had finished. And when his lips sealed in a line, looking with the ruby eyes the dark ones she smiled somewhat uncomfortable 

- Mom is working right now, in urgencies… she never goes home until 7 pm, so I got my chance- It wasn’t enough reason, but for now, he let it slip, knowing that Diavolo and Barbatos were lurking in the shadows only to hear everything they discussed. They needed privacy, so he guides the girl until the breeze of Devildom hit them. 

Lucifer put one of his hands on her back, a little hesitant, he doesn’t know if she would like it or not, he is cautious as always. Although seeing how she didn’t mind, he kept it there, still guiding her through the desolated streets of Devildom 

- Even if your mother is busy, you shouldn’t do things like this. It is dangerous, any demon could have their way with you if you are not careful… - She lightly snorted, interrupting his speech, making him feel annoyed by her action

- Father, I’m not dumb. I did not ask anyone who passed in front of me to help me. Sol would never put me at risk and besides, I appeared with Lord Diavolo… I know what I’m doing here, so do you. -And before he even dared to say something more, she continued, hugging herself because of the weather. It was cold, and her little jacket wasn’t enough to cover her body. She wishes she had listened to Solomon before she agreed to just go in without a word. - And you can lecture me with mom at your heart’s content, but I was tired of waiting for this day to come… -Lucifer squinted his eyes just a little, not sure she was trying to say. Her facial expressions were completely the opposite of her words, making her voice appear like she was struggling with something but the moves she made didn’t say the same. She seemed calm, oddly calm 

- How so…? - But he was the same, curiosity in the voice of the demon but serenity in his posture. She had to admit, they were similar in some things… - You couldn’t wait to come and risk your life without telling anybody?

- Mother said we were coming in summer, that I would meet the great Lucifer and finally get the answers I deserved. Guess what? It’s already Autumn. She made that promised more than once, and every time I was ready to go and meet you, she got a call from the hospital. How convenient… -She whispered something, an insult maybe, he couldn’t listen properly, and her body failed to hide the frustration she had inside. - I couldn’t bear to stay and keep this waiting on and on… 

-You don’t have much patience, do you? 

- I do have patience, but everything has its limits - Her footsteps were pretty slow until she stood in the middle of the sidewalk, with expectations low of what he could tell her. This demon saw in her the same posture he had when the world burned down under his feet, right at the moment, he rebelled against his father for something he thought was wrong to do. The difference? She didn’t radiate rebellion or wrath, just interest, curiosity, maybe a little of exasperation. 

What a surprise… 

-I waited almost 17 years just to see you, so don’t give me a lecture for wanting to meet my own father. - Lucifer grinned, taking his coat and putting it on her shoulders, blocking his gaze with hers. The world talked, both of them discussing something incomprehensible like past and future, so odd to everybody else, but for them?

 It was just like looking at the mirror, one that never ages, the reflection that would never let the memories escape. And the similarities with the celestial Lucifer didn’t stop coming to his exhausted mind. She wasn’t corrupted, she didn’t have desires that could identify her as hostile or something related to that keyword. She was half-human, with a soul that any demon would love to devour, with ordinary wishes like any other person in her world… she was just like he was before 

- To be this our first encounter, you don’t look like someone afraid to defy me. - Just like her mama taught her, this man is not easy to talk to. She would play his cards, even if she doesn’t know what she is doing, even if she is not conscious of it. - It reminds me of someone… 

- Mom? - The sweet and velvet voice appeared, and he took her hands, walking towards home, glazing at her from time to time. - or it is you father? - that word was still foreign to her tongue, something she had never used even if somebody demands her to pronounce it. But here she is, trying to accustom her mind to do it one more time. Deep inside she liked the idea to finally call someone like that. And luck was on her side… 

- Both, more your mother than anyone else to be precise. She was more curious than Solomon if I remember right… -And she asked again inside of her head if the man fought with her uncle. However, she should save that question for another time - She was always intrigued even by the little things that life throw at her. I don’t know how she survived so many things. It wouldn’t be a surprise if you have the same strength Louise -and her heart stopped beating, making her feel the cold of Devildom get through her clothes. Lucifer took her features for a single moment, wondering what happened to make her look so startled.

- you know my name… 

- You thought I didn’t? -She nodded, so determined that it surprises him. Did Jules never tell her about him? - I gave you the name, right when you were born… she never talked about me? 

- Not much… but mom always loved to do it, the problem is that she is very busy with work and I don’t like to interrupt her with my curiosity… sometimes - He sighed, noticing the way her eyes inspected the trees, how her hair becomes a mess, making it hard to distinguish her locks from the coat. Meanwhile, the girl called Louise was with an infinity of questions haunting her mind.

Was he the one who gave her that name? It wasn’t a joke? Oh, god, she did not know whether to thank or question Lucifer even more...

- So you know very little 

- I wouldn’t put it that way… it’s more like I know who you are, what you do but I don’t know why you leave my mother, why did you leave me? - The big question comes to his ears, making him get away from her only to open the gate of the House of Lamentation. And the name was exactly what he felt: he lamented not being there for her mother or Louise. She was a woman now, not entirely but she was older enough to understand trivial matters of the realms. - She told me you were a workaholic, but I don’t think that’s a good excuse to not come and see us… right? -The silence weren’t deadly, but her patience surely took that attribute until the lips of her creator parted to explain himself. 

- Your time is very different from mine. The clock goes slower than yours, and I’m… -His pause was something he didn’t want to express. And his pride was a rare feeling he hated right now, where deep down he tried to fight it, but it was useless -I’m the same man your mother tried to tell you about… There’s a lot of things that requires my attention, and I’m just one solitary demon. -There was something behind it, she could feel it, she didn’t buy it. 

- That’s your excuse? - Lucifer groans reach her ears, making her back up immediately, not trusting his movements one bit - Mother suffer every time I see her calling you or texting you, we deserve something more than that cheap apology… -She was walking in dangerous territory, and still feels right to her to fight the devil himself. Man or demon who wanted so badly to let her know with the exact words how true the past was for him, how things went down hill so easily. 

- I love your mother, I really do. So sorry to disappoint your expectation in my answer, but I never lie when it comes to her, you should understand that. Some things escape my possibilities… - Louise hugged the coat, even more, drifting her gaze away from him. And Lucifer sighed, making sure no one was around, not even his brothers spying through the windows. 

With another apology, he tried the last thing he would ever do in front of others, being the avatar of pride and a man who craved for a gentle touch but always deny the act when is in front of him. He hugged her, causing the girl to gasp when she felt the embrace surround her. So sweet but bitter, like cold natural lemonade made at home. She finally felt the love of a father, making the wishes she kept inside her mind for so long a dream come true, achieving something both mirrors craved so much. 

- Life is cruel, that’s how it works in our lives ,dearest one… - Louise had a strong grip on him, not wanting to let go of this moment, clinging to his father fearing this would be the last time even though is the first. And Lucifer never wanted to protect someone of corruption so much as he does right now, being her daughter so precious that he desired to see her live peacefully, not worrying about demons and wars between species… but he knew that would be impossible. Still, he would protect her and her mother just the same way he wanted to protect Lilith, and he would not make the same mistake twice 

- I never wanted this meeting to be so depressing -Lucifer offered her a wide smile, being so close to open the front door, to show her this other life she never got the chance to meet 

- Let’s call it a heartbreaking reunion, not depressing -She nodded, agreeing with his words, returning the smile but in a smaller way. And with everything settle, he greeted her inside of the House of Lamentation with hidden enthusiasm, making some of his brothers appear and see the arrival of the oldest.

They were more in shock than Lucifer when they saw her, instantly loading the girl with questions or simply trying to guess what she was. 

Surely her soul was something from an old world. Nephilims were resurfacing, it was expected to the others feel this little and simple curiosity, but being so close to the girl, inspecting her to head to toes were a little… extreme 

But still, she let them do what they wanted to do with this curiosity. She let them say whatever they wanted to say. It was fun for her to listen to stupid theories, to look at them right in the eye and see them struggle while trying to decipher who she was and why she was there 

It was fun until someone broke the tension over the brothers, being Lucifer the judge of this behavior towards his daughter. She didn’t mind if we put aside the number of times some of them dared to get too touchy with her. She even smiled when one of the brothers said something towards Lucifer about her mother 

-Angel or not, you shouldn’t be so concerned about this girl. She is not Jules, we know how to behave -Asmodeus smiled with his words falling in the air as he speaks. Louise’s laugh reached the ears of the brothers, making the action contagious to her father, being the two of them a rare pair. 

-Of course, but being his daughter might complicate some things- Levi choked with his saliva, Beel gasped, Mammon screamed some completely incomprehensible things, and the others only remained in silence. Her eyes laid upon the blonde demon who wanted so badly to say something, being interrupted by others every time he had the chance to express his mind- And no, I’m not an angel

-I knew Jules had a child, but I thought it was with Solomon… -Louise was the one now who choked, looking at Asmo and Lucifer a few times, noticing that the raven-haired demon looked a little concerned about this new information 

-...I don’t have brothers. Noah is adopted, and my mother never had another lover -Asmo mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ , and Satan finally spoke with such an intensity in his eyes. She waved at him, receiving a tiny smile from his part. And every pair of eyes laid on him

-She is gonna get mad, you know that Louise? -Of course, he was going to say the same thing Lucifer did. She knew what she was doing, she knew the risks, she was not a stupid mortal who acted on impulsive decisions all the time. 

-You know her?! Since when?! -Lucifer’s curiosity grew bigger, knowing exactly what was going on in his house, taking a few steps closer to the avatar of wrath. Please, Louise begged, do not start a conflict

-He had been visiting Jules, am I right? - The older spoke, and Satan wanted to laugh, but he remained in silence, with his gaze on the girl who expresses between her eyes and hands, that he must  leave the wave of a fight at this moment. 

-I’m not like my other brothers who forgot to go and pay a visit to our favorite doctor. Even if she was busy… -The others started with the questions one more time, shushing immediately by Satan or Lucifer. Louise only understood that some of them were with little time to see her, and others like Beel and Asmo knew about this girl. Funny, she doesn’t remember when did they go...

Maybe she was very little at that moment, she would ask her mother later if she survives… 

-… So, just to be clear: you are telling me that this girl named Louise is your daughter, and Solomon got a son which he adopted, and now she came to see you because she wanted to meet you, and Satan knew all this time and never say anything to Lucifer for respect to what Jules decided to do with her love life. And we never got to know this information until now- When Levi put the words from his perspective it seemed like a total disaster, her mind would be if Louise were him.

-It is partially your fault, for not wanting to go and see Jules. It is cruel of your part Levi -The demon made a pout when Satan spoke about him, while Mammon looked at the girl with wide eyes, realizing that it was obvious the family she was part of. 

-Hell, you are really Lucifer’s daughter. You don’t even look like your mother at all… why you never said anything?! -Lucifer groaned, crossing his arms over his chest, annoyed by all this questioning and discussion. He thinks it would be worst with Jules, knowing that if both of them arrived like a big surprise the brothers would be screaming like maniacs about this matter… 

They were yelling, that’s correct, but in a more calming way… sort of. 

-At least she got her beauty - Louise’s cheeks tainted a faint red over them, looking adorable to Asmodeus, the demon who spoke seconds ago. - Yes! She has her beauty! Oh, you look like an angel -And like an instinct, she hides behind her father, who grabbed her hand and took her upstairs while the other demons tried to stop him 

-We are not done here Lucifer! Why Jules never said something about her? It’s her daughter! 

-Mammon, that’s enough! All of you should at least give her space and not asphyxiate the poor girl! -The oldest of the brothers yelled with no effort, reflecting his molested attitude and tired mind in this discussion - You want answers? Ask Satan, I’m trying to find them as well -And with nothing else to add, he kept walking with Louise right behind him 

-Why not ask Jules? She will arrive in this home in less than an hour, so it’s a good opportunity to explain all this mess. Right, Luci? -His grin grew bigger, and the girl shivers with the simple idea of the disastrous war her mother would do when she sees her. 

-How are you so sure? -A low voice that took everybody by surprise, asking for the truth in the words of Satan. The man stood there for a few seconds, getting closer and closer to Louise, putting his hands right on her shoulders, gaining a warning from Lucifer. He didn’t care, he had more connection with this girl than he, so why bother? 

-Louise, your plan failed in just one simple error. You didn’t tell Noah about your escape right?- She had everything under control huh? Yeah, that was lie… a big one - ‘Cause I don’t know you, but he is always with you when your mother leaves you alone at home. Sometimes he even invites you to see what he had created with Solomon… -And she always calls him if she doesn’t respond to her messages. She totally forgot about him...

-She called him, fuck, she did… - A mortal who sounded and looked like an angel cursed with the simple idea of forgetting a tiny detail. Satan laughed, biting his lips while his brothers looked around kind of confused, except for Lucifer who desired to shut everything off only to have time alone with his daughter. It was annoying as always, his inexistent bad luck trying to steal precious time with his new family

- … But… you know what? I think it was a good idea that I forgot about Noah… -And Satan’s eyes went wide with her words -She owns me an explanation after all, and in this place, no work would not let her get away without telling me the truth…. So let her come -She had questions just like these brothers, and she finally would get those precious answers she deserved. 

But she wouldn't create a war for it, on the contrary, she just wanted peace and to live with both of her parents present in her life. It was the correct thing to do… 

And Lucifer could only think how oddly similar it was, how her determination put her in such a high place where there’s no visible fright for defying her creator. Just like he was before the falling… 

[mintchanniemint]

pairing: [still friends] bassist!chan x (fem)reader wordcount:  ~3.3k taglist: @100797-bc - @chansrms

[08:45 a.m]

"...So, since everyone seems ready and excited for this new project that involves more departments of our university, I think it's time to start! Be careful, everyone! And make sure to share all your thoughts with each other!" 

A wave of "yes, Prof." slowly lit up in the huge auditorium as every student sounded both tired and bored. You had to admit you strangely didn't really hate this project, you probably had to do worse things, like that time you ended up doing a cooking project and nearly poisoned that girl from the History Department. Whenever you reminded yourself of that little incident, you always made sure not to see her, not even accidentally in the college restrooms. But this time, the project not only sounded a bit safer, but you even ended up in a group with a certain someone. And that was the only reason why that morning you didn't fall asleep while the professor was giving you the guidelines and instructions for your tasks.  The project was related to the school systems around the world, and how they differed from each other, analysed under specific views. You were assigned a not-really-exciting topic, which was School Uniforms.  Now, you had to admit you felt quite lucky the university you were attending didn't force its students to have a uniform to wear, but just the thought of having to learn how to tie a tie made you fall asleep on the spot. 

"Hey."

Your train of thoughts got brutally interrupted by a way too familiar voice as you finally looked around, a bit confused, noticing that the hall was nearly empty. You looked in the direction of the voice that got your attention, to see a way too sleep deprived Bang Chan in front of you.  You couldn't help but giggle a bit, he sat down on the seat right in front of yours, crossing his arms on the chair and plopping his chin on them.  He looked at you for a couple of seconds, in silence, before slowly closing his eyes. 

"You really look like a cat, sometimes." You whispered with a smile, your hand automatically reaching his soft curls, playing with a brown strand of hair with two fingers. 

Wait… brown? 

"Chan, when did you dye your hair?" The alarm in your voice nearly made you sound a bit too concerned and he quickly looked at you, his eyes half open. 

"A couple of kids told me that I had to have a nice hair color for the project-" He then closed his eyes again, his head pushing a bit against your hand, as if asking you to keep playing with his hair. 

"They were so serious about it, but my red hair dye is not so cheap to be covered by some brown color so I just used some hair color spray." 

You looked at him, biting your lip trying your best not to burst out laughing. 

"Yes, that's such a Chan thing for you to do…" You mumbled to yourself, your voice clearly highlighting a smile on your lips. He hummed in response, probably asking you what you meant by that.  You shook your head and stood up, getting your bag from the seat next to yours. 

"C'mon, bass boy, we need to go and try the uniforms!" You said, trying to sound as exciting as possible, hoping to somehow give some life to that sleepyhead in front of you. 

"There's a reason why I always skip morning lectures." He mumbled, yawning and keeping his back on his shoulder. He followed you as you walked through the hallways of your department, not too familiar to him. 

"They said this is the class, right?" 

"Were you listening while that professor was assigning the classrooms to each group?" 

"Nah… not really." 

"Me neither." 

The both of you just looked at each other for a couple of seconds, as if mentally screaming and asking what to do if you got the wrong class.  Luckily enough, though, the door before you suddenly opened, revealing a black haired guy wearing round glasses, and a taller girl right behind him. They both looked at you, then the girl checked a pile of papers in her hands, nodding, and suddenly they smiled at you. 

"Welcome! We were waiting for you!"  The guy exclaimed, taking a couple of steps back and letting you and Chan enter the classroom.  It was empty, some desks were occupied by big boxes with black, confusing scribblings scribblings on them. 

"Those are the uniforms we are going to try, hopefully the sizes are gonna be fine! We thank you for submitting your essays and researching about school uniforms from various countries. Even though yours…" The guy mumbled, checking some of the papers the girl gave him, as he looked at Chan.  "... was submitted two minutes before the deadline. But we appreciate the effort! You also followed our little advice about your hair! " The girl interrupted her friend, trying not to make him say anything way too harsh. She smiled at Chan, getting his usual cold stare in response, which left her a bit confused. 

"Uh… yeah he really cares about this stuff, guys! Chan is just… not really good at expressing himself with words, yeah!"  You swiftly entered the little conversation too, probably making it worse since as a consequence you only got an embarrassing silence and four pairs of eyes looking at you. 

"Can we please see the uniforms now?"  You quickly whispered, nearly tripping over your own words as you felt your own mind screaming for five whole seconds. 

"Sure! Some students have already tried the uniforms they mentioned in their own essays and they're getting ready to take photos! We're really ambitious for this project!" 

"And we're sure that the magazine of this project will turn out amazing with our photos! Seungmin is gonna make you shine like models." 

They looked like those cartoon characters that completed each other's sentences, you couldn't help but find them a bit funny, though. Seeing them being so enthusiastic about this project made you feel a bit guilty too, since ten minutes earlier you were literally planning an escape with your fake-brown haired friend in case you didn’t get the right classroom.

You smiled at the two students in front of you and grabbed Chan by his arm, guiding him to a box on which you recognized your names were scribbled on with a black marker.  Other students, definitely more responsible than you and Chan fused together, told you about the stuff you had to do. It was quite simple: go to the improvised changing rooms, wear the uniform, take pictures. Write about your general thoughts and impressions of the project at the end of the day.  You just hoped Chan grasped all that, as he looked like he probably would have fallen asleep in the changing room. It didn't matter that much, you would have definitely helped him anyway. 

You two were given three uniforms, and since there would have been lunch break in a couple of hours, the students of your group were asked to wear one of those uniforms.  You didn't really understand why, but thinking about how other students had probably ended up in groups where they were supposed to cook, you felt quite lucky and didn't want to complain at all. 

Chan was given his first uniform to try, and he walked to the changing rooms to try it on quickly.  The photographer was taking quite some time taking those photos, and you didn't have to try the uniforms yet, since many other students were already waiting in line for the shoot. You just stood there, leaning on the wall, waiting for the moment Chan would have finally left that improvised changing room.  Suddenly, the black curtain moved and a not so amused Chan made his amazing appearance: he was wearing black trousers and a white shirt, a tie on his right hand.  He looked at you as he walked closer to you, and left the green and red tie on your hand. 

"I don't know how to do this."  He mumbled, as he finished buttoning his shirt up.  You looked at the piece of cloth in your hands and took a deep breath. 

"I don't know either but… Let's try, I guess?"  You mumbled in response as you brought the tie around his neck, trying your best to seem like you knew what you were doing.  Because of the little task you were asked to do, you had to get closer to Chan.  You could feel his calm, relaxed breath gently hitting your face as your eyes were completely focused on that tie. Suddenly you felt his hand resting on your waist when you finally figured out how to make that tie look presentable for the shoot. You felt quite proud of the result and, not minding too much about Chan's hand on your waist, you dragged him to the photoshoot corner. 

A cherry-red haired guy was there, a black bag right next to him, by his feet, as he was giving instructions about posing to a girl right in front of him. He then got his camera and, making sure everything was perfect, a loud "click" was heard. 

"Let's take a couple more. So we can, eventually, choose the best one!"  He smiled, getting a thumbs up by the girl who was temporarily his model.  Seungmin, hoping you got his name right, seemed quite professional, and it took you literally seconds to guess he was from the Arts Department. You felt quite out of place for a good minute, everyone around you seemed like they were genuinely interested in that project and then there was you, who didn't stay home just because that grumpy, quiet cat-owner sent that essay last minute and automatically made you want to go just to spend the day with him. 

Wow, that's embarrassing… And quite lame.

You shook your head, trying to let that thought drift off, when you suddenly heard someone call your name, announcing that you were able to try some of the uniforms you were assigned. You had to leave Chan's side, and you had to admit it felt way warmer when you had his arm around your waist. 

"It's my turn! Gotta go." 

"Make sure to button up the shirt properly." 

"Oh shut up."  You stuck your tongue out at him and you walked away, not before getting a gentle, quick squeeze on your waist by Chan, though. 

Okay, let's be honest. Both of us are embarrassing and lame… 

You mentally rolled your eyes at your own thoughts and quickly walked across the room to get your uniform, and headed towards the changing room.  You didn't have any problems trying the clothes on, the trousers felt quite comfortable and you also liked how pretty the colors were. You looked at your reflection on the mirror, which was probably lent by the drama club, and quietly wondered which country's school that was supposed to be. You didn't really remember, even though you were literally the one who wrote about it in that essay, but you just shrugged it off and left the changing room, your eyes quickly landing on the little photoshoot corner. 

It was Chan's turn, and that girl wasn't lying at all when she said that Seungmin was going to make everyone feel like a model. You nearly got caught staring at him and quickly walked closer to the queue of people standing, waiting for their turn to take photos.  Seungmin seemed not to let your friend go, he probably found a good subject to photograph. He took photos of him in at least four different poses when he usually asks for two poses per student. 

Chan left the spot with a small nod and walked away, leaving a satisfied Seungmin checking all the photos taken with his camera. Your friend quickly found you and walked closer to you, his eyes scanning the uniform you were wearing. 

"Looks nice."  He mumbled, one hand in the pocket of his trousers, the other one reaching a strand of hair that escaped from your ponytail. 

"Oh well, thank you school president."  You teased him with a smirk, before distractedly playing with his tie. 

As it was finally your turn to take the photos, you couldn't help but feel Chan's gaze constantly on you. Seungmin made you feel at ease in a matter of seconds and you had to admit the shots were really pretty. He clearly was working so hard to make everyone shine in those uniforms.  You thanked him with a smile and, followed by Chan, walked closer to those boxes containing other school uniforms.  You had to try three other pieces before the big clock on the wall finally signed that it was lunch break.  You were relieved half of the day had finally passed, but then you remembered you had to stay in that uniform you had just put on for the following two hours. 

"The last time I wore a uniform for school was ages ago!" 

"Wouldn't it be ten minutes ago?" 

"Chan, c’mon."  You sighed, exasperated, as you got your lunchbox from your bag and walked to the cafeteria with your friend.  You noticed the uniform he was wearing only when the two of you sat down at a table and looked at each other for a fraction of seconds. 

He was wearing a black turtleneck and a white shirt on it, his trousers were dark and looked more comfortable than the ones he had to wear for the second shoot. 

"What." 

Uh oh… caught staring… 

"Oh, nothing! It's just… well, at least you don't have to wear a tie, hm?"  You cleared your throat and looked around, your mind in complete alarm mode. 

What an idiot. 

Chan, in response, nodded and opened his lunchbox. Meaning that his whole interest was now on the food in front of him.  You sighed in relief, you both loved and hated how naive that guy was. Definitely a double-edged sword. You shook your head at those thoughts and quickly opened your lunchbox, enjoying your meal and Chan's company for lunch. 

"You know…"  You said, between some bites. "Don't we look like high school students?"  Your lips quickly curved into a silly smirk. 

Chan looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed.  "Isn't that part of the project-" 

"No, Chan, I mean! Doesn't… this! Make you wonder what high school life would have been like if we were, you know, classmates-”

"Not really." 

"Absolutely no fun."  You pouted, your little rainbow-colored dream was completely destroyed before it could have even reached its completion because of Chan's straightforwardness. 

The two of you chatted a bit after finishing your lunch and, since you had quite some time before returning to your team's classroom, you decided to go for a walk in the huge hallways of the university.  You didn't feel as uncomfortable as you thought you would a few hours earlier; the uniform you were wearing was quite nice and warm too, and you were glad Chan had brought a scarf that morning, since you forgot yours at home because you were in a hurry.  Even though he probably didn't even agree on that, you were wearing his scarf as you were walking down the hallways.  Many students greeted you and way too many people were literally staring at Chan. You raised your eyebrows at the guy next to you, wondering exactly what they were so fascinated about. 

Just wait till he opens your mouth, everyone. 

You lightly giggled at your own thought, finding your mind funnier than usual when suddenly you walked past a group of students that stopped you.  Specifically, that stopped Chan.  You were a few steps back, looking at them quietly as some of them, definitely freshmen, gave Chan a few little pieces of paper.  As the group of younger students walked away, Chan looked at you, his eyes literally filled with question marks. 

"Wow Chan, you show up for morning lectures once and the whole Literature department falls for you."  You commented with a dry laugh as you walked closer to him, checking the little notes in his hand. He shrugged and put them in the pocket of his trousers, leaving you speechless for a second. 

" Wait, you're not throwing them away?"

"No, what if they actually need some tutoring." 

"Chan are you serious-" 

He looked at you for a second, his fake brown hair slightly touching his eyes.  You sighed and shook your head, looking away for a second, when suddenly a huge thought hit you like a train. 

What was that? You really couldn't tell, but something was burning. You felt annoyed.  By what?  You really didn't know how to explain it.  What was that for?  You had to calm down, those were just random phone numbers on a piece of paper, it wasn’t like that guy was going to contact them anyway.  … right? 

Breathe. Take a deep breath, you really need it before you do something dumb. Don't be dumb, don't be dumb, he's just a friend after all, he can do whatever he wants. Do not do anything dumb.

"Are you okay?"  His usual, dull voice interrupted your thoughts for a second, making you notice you were actually holding quite tight on the scarf that was gently keeping you warm. 

Your eyes finally met him, and you stayed silent. Complete silence. For at least five seconds. Your mind was running, gosh it was sprinting. From one thought to the other.  And that weird burning was growing, and growing, and growing inside you.  Your eyes were analyzing every single detail of his face. His brown eyes, that weird dye that was covering his usual beautiful dark red hair, his plump, full lips, that black turtleneck. And again, his eyes, his lips, his hair, his turtleneck, the ears that were usually adorned with beautiful earrings that were now completely bare.  

And again, his eyes, lips, the turtleneck, his hair… 

When suddenly, your hands moved before your mind could even realize that. You grabbed him by his arm. That was completely normal, you literally had always done that. But that time, that time you were dragging him to a small, quiet corner, far from those annoying and busy hallways. You were now in a small hallway, near two broken vending machines and an emergency exit. 

"What is wrong with you?"  He mumbled, his voice clearly expressing his confusion. You said nothing, you just pinned him against the wall, his hands quickly finding their way on your waist, and you looked at him straight in the eyes. 

Your hand reached the collar of his black turtleneck, pulling it down with not much delicacy and your lips softly met his warm, sweet skin. He squeezed your waist as you angrily, but lightly, bit his neck, making sure to leave at least a small mark. You took a step back and looked at it for a second before fixing quickly both his turtleneck and shirt. Your eyes slowly met his, and moved to look at his cheeks, who were tinted in a light, pastel red color. 

"Please don't contact any of them."  You whispered, unexpectedly out of breath due to the adrenaline rush.  You didn't let him say nor do anything, you just took a few more steps back before walking away in a rush, headed to the classroom. 

Now. 

… 

What the hell did I just do?!

[the-moon-prince]

The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter IX

AN: Hi my lovely fellows!

I’m sorry for the delay! Thank you so much for your patience and support! I love you all! This chapter is very long. In fact, this and the previous one would be one, but it already had more than 5000 words and I had not finished yet, so it seemed exesive to me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter of my story.  (Chapter I) (Chapter II) (Chapter III) (Chapter IV ) (Chapter V) (Chapter VI) (Chapter VII)(Chapter VIII) (Chapter X coming soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 5 498

TW: None! Pure Fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They were both impatient and excited for that night. It gave (Y/n) a warm nostalgia to share something so close to their heart with someone they loved. It gave Kurapika the feeling of not only being appreciated but of belonging. He perfectly understood how important traditions were to people in their position. It was something that, in a way, connected them with who they once were and with those who once loved them. At the same time, it could bring grief and yearning for it.  That (Y/n) invited him to be part of one of their traditions meant two things, which were essential to Kurapika: the first, they were contented enough to carry out the celebration; the second, those sorts of events are held with family, and (Y/n) considered him sufficient bosom to show him their traditions.

The hours until check-out seemed tediously long for both. But everything comes sooner or later.

The two kept close to each other as they prepared to leave. 

Melody saw them from afar. She hadn't seen Kurapika so happy and delighted regarding something. It was so pleasant to see her friend gleeful after so much.

They were the last to leave the Nostrade Mansion, checking that none of their co-workers were present to go through the door holding hands. They did not let go during all the traject to (Y/n)'s automobile.

"I propose that we go to your house so you can prepare changes of clothes if you'd wish."-they orated, a clear eagerness on their voice. A tone that wouldn't leave their voice through all that night.

"That would be very convenient, thank you"-He too was happy but better at hiding it behind his calm tone.

They drove Kurapika to his residence, chit-chatting during the entirety of the route. Kurapika had promised him that he would not be long-drawn and they could wait for him outside to speed things up. However, once alone at home, a wave of insecurity hit him. Something not proper in him. He began to question himself. It was something important to both of them, and he didn't want, for whatever reason, to ruin it. He was afraid of saying something perhaps inappropriate, hurting his feelings, or insulting his culture by accident. There was a whole list of things that could go through carelessness and were annoying. If someone did such actions referring to some tradition of the Kurta, he would sure be mad. Above, (Y/ n) had not been very specific with the type of event it was. He did not know if he would have to dress formally, or in his traditional clothes. He began to get distracted and discredit the decisions he made. Finally, he changed into his Kurta clothing, packed in a sack another change of his traditional clothing, his white loose pajamas, and one of his black suits.

When he returned to the car with his belongings, (Y / n) was distracted on their phone. For someone who liked playing on his cell phone so much, he responded very little to messages and calls. When he put his bag in the back of the car he noticed some grocery sacks. Which he was sure weren't there before.

"Did you went to the supermarket while I was inside?"-Kurapika inquired. They looked away quickly solely to return their sight to him.

"Yes... I did."- They thought it was a bit explicit.

Kurapika felt bad about the time he must have taken-"Did I really took so long?"

(Y/n) shook their head-"No, no, no, I mean, it was a bit lengthy, but I took the opportunity to go buy what was required!"-they reassured with a smile.

"I'm sorry for being overdue."-he apologized with a sigh, holding his forehead.

"No no! Don't apologize! It's fine! We only gained time. Plus you avoided the dull line at the store."- they also started to shake their hands. Truly seeking to comfort him, they even found it handy.-"Please don't worry, it's perfectly fine."

Kurapika sat in the passenger seat, put the seatbelt on, and headed to (Y/n)'s residence.

"I hope you don't have any allergies to almonds, since I purchased to make an almond dessert."-their expression suddenly changed to a deadpan one. Realizing they didn't even ask beforehand that important detail.

"No no, I don't."-he notified. Curious about the variety of sweet it would be.-"Will you make desserts repeatedly?"-His sweetheart maybe literally was a sweet heart.

"Yes!"-they cheered-"Are you good at cooking by any luck?"-another question, but this one with a blameworthy tone and a somewhat ashamed smile.

"I master the basics, why that question?"- were they planning on cooking together?

"Because I am terrible when it comes to cooking. It's no coincidence that I only have cookies or candy in my cupboard."-They admitted with rectitude. That person sometimes had brutal honesty about some things. Kurapika was very sure that they were capable of feeling shame and shame, even seldom they seemed not to be ashamed of some things that most people would be ashamed of.-"So more or less I depend on your abilities for this to be successful."

When they arrived at the house, a comforting smell filled Kurapika's lungs. It was so pleasant and familiar by now. He felt at home and relaxed. (Y/n) put the shopping bags in her kitchen and started pulling out a wide variety of pastry supplies. If it weren't for their earlier confession, Kurapika would think they know what they're doing. In fact, he doubted if they even had any clues.

"What are we doing, then?"- he questioned, wanting to make sure they at least had a plan.

"We are making Frangipane! It is a sweet almond-flavored custard patisserie!"-when they mention dessert, they immediately smiled-"it is exquisite! I like it a lot, although I have not eaten for a long time. I hope you will enjoy it too!"- they flapped their hands with emotion as they explained. At first, it was somewhat difficult for Kurapika to decipher what they were feeling, however, there were moments where their happiness and emotion were clear. That was adorable to him.

"It sounds heavenly! How do we make it?" his excitement seemed to have infected him as well. But she couldn't help it! If his lover was so smiling, he was as well.

"I don't know!"-they said it was still content.

Trouble hit Kurapika. Even if he could tell what they were feeling, their mind was still a mystery.

"How do you plan to prepare it in that case?"-he pleased, worrying all the event will fail. He didn't want to see their excitement and joy crushed.

"My mami- mami is how I referred to my grandma- taught me how to make it. Though I forgot."-they calmed and tilted their head."-Except, that's no problem at all. Do you mind waiting for just a miniature moment, please?" they added directing to their bedroom. They allegedly had some solution to the problem. But Kurapika still wondered how they could be so forgetful and brilliant at the same time. 

(Y/n) returned shortly afterward with a little book in hand. The book seemed to be handmade, the cover was made of fabric with a flower pattern, except there was no title on it.

"My mami made a cookbook for me!"- they sang as they showed him the book. Kurapika took it and started leafing through it. Why didn't they mention that part earlier?-"Recipes are nothing further than a sequence of instructions. And in general, I exceed in following commands. So everything should be under control."

Kurapika might know a lot about many things, but the language the book was in was not one of them.-"Darling, I cannot comprehend what is written." 

"I know. The exact reason why I will be translating it."- they explained like the most coherent thing ever. He returned the cookbook. They started reading it, looking for the recipe they needed.

Both traveled to the kitchen and (Y/n) started to read out loud the recipe.

"Let's start with the dough! This is the longest of the processes, and you would want to start with it. It's an inverted puff pastry. For it, a base dough is needed. Which you are going to envelop in butter multiple times..."-the safety of their voice dispersed as they read.-"How does she expect me to do that..."-they mumbled for themselves, although Kurapika was able to hear it. It was just the beginning, and they were already distressed.

"But don't stress (Y/n) even if it appears complicated said like that, it's easier than you might think. You just have to follow the steps I'll be giving you."-they seemed surprised at that encouragement.

"Did... did your grandma wrote that?"-even he was surprised.

"Yes... I... I guess she knew me extremely well."- it even seemed their mami was in the room, knowing exactly how they were feeling.

"For the base dough, you need to mix 15cl of water with 18 grams of salt and one teaspoon of white vinegar." (Y/n) started to measure said ingredients while integrating them into an ample aluminum bowl and stirred. "With the wet ingredients already prepared, append 350 grams of white flour and 115 grams of melted butter and mix until homogeneity... I can do that."

They melted the butter in the microwave and added the flour, followed by a quick stir.

"Spread the dough on a surface with flour and form a tiny square."-they weren't bad at following instructions. Kurapika stayed next to them, admiring their focused face while passing ingredients and supplies. He was somewhat nervous they were going to miss the recipe by accident and feel bad, but they were having so much fun he ignored it.

"Behold! Our base dough is finished! It was simple!"-(Y/n) looked so proud of their achievement.

"It is a well-done dough!"-It was the first time that both of them prepared something similar, he couldn't help but feel equally satisfied.

The dough was placed into the refrigerator. The succeeding step was to mix 150grams of flour and 375 grams of butter until obtaining a paste. The two of them were having fun with the preparation of the dessert. Serenely conversing added joy at the night.

"Earlier this day, you mentioned today was important. Is there a celebration?"-the blonde wondered, aspiring to know more about his beloved's traditions.

Their smile softened-"It is. Today Vere Solstitium starts. It was a big celebration for the Uniliums taking place during spring. It lasted 12 days."-they informed while spreading the butter mixture into a bigger square and placing the dough inside, enclosing it.

"What was intended to be celebrated?"-he continued, as he saw the dough being spread and folded two times in half.

"Being alive and together. We were a small clan. The fact that they were all good and united made us fortunate."-they explained with a soft voice and a kind smile as they placed the dough in the fridge again to let it rest. There was a sad undertone, the object of the celebration sure was warming and pretty, but given the fact (Y/n) was the last alive, it turned to be dark. Both sat on the couch to wait.

"I see. Is there a reason why it was feasted in spring?"-Kurapika continued to ask, even if once reflected the circumstances were sad, it seemed to be a topic close to their heart.

"Because that's when all the flowers are in bloom."- (Y/n) unexpectedly rested their head on Kurapika's shoulder. Not that it was unpleasant, totally the opposite. He loved their contact and affection, it was just that (Y/n) was peculiar with physical contact. Not because they didn't love him with all their heart, they just needed to get used.

"My people had a close relationship with nature in general, but especially with flowers. Each flower has a meaning for us. And each of us had an assigned flower. That flower symbolizes your soul. Your entire aura lived in your flower and was part of it."-their voice was sweet and nostalgic. It did it good to share aspects so dear to them with someone they cherished. Similarly, Kurapika was glad to be capable of grasping that kind of information. When you lose your home, sharing your memories is complicated and beautiful at the same time. It felt less lonely.

"Do you have a flower?"- he guessed. Having the opportunity to hear about the culture of (Y/n) made him feel comforted. And if he didn't listen to them, who else would?

They looked up at him with a smile and nodded-"I do! I'm the poppy!"-they exclaimed-"It has a mixed meaning, a small wildflower often perceived as childish and frail. It's often related to dreams, daydreams. Besides is a flower formerly used as an analgesic and sedative. The poppy is a flower of comfort and hope, particularly comfort in times of penury."-they cocked their heads to the right a little-"Although it has not helped me much."- chuckling a little to hide their sadness.-"The other one, I don't fancy it that much, although I terminated up growing used to it. It also contains a meaning of aggressiveness and fury. There's why it's a flower surrounded by mysteries."

Possibly they do not see it, or they still grieving, but they had brought Kurapika hope and lessened his pain in the lowest moments. He adored their mystery. Having someone by his side loving and supporting him was like a dream. While they could be childish at times, it was invigorating to him.

How long has he not laughed? 

How long has it been since he felt blissful?

 How long has it been since he felt emotion ticking his senses? 

How long has he not felt any hope for the future?

One of the mysteries of (Y/n) was how they remained innocent and well-meaning after extremely much. Kurapika had no idea how they were so impassive, but he was so glad that they did. To him, the poppy suited them pretty great.

"I think it is a tad funny how the poppy is related to medicine and I ended up in this career!"-they joked. Maybe the flowers were connected to their soul after all.-"We better keep working on the cake."

Not even themselves knew the time that had elapsed since they started talking. Kurapika was amused by how (Y/n) could at times be quiet for hours, and listen with all the attention that each fiber of their body allowed them to give; in others be so talkative. In any case, he loved talking with them and listening to them.

"Now the fun part! The filling!"-they grinned, really radiant, even if it was a simple cake. And it was a simple cake. Only it went further.

"Isn't it a little early to make the filling?"-he asked, starting to worry about the resolution of their experiment once more. He had taken, perchance, the part of "I rely on you to succeed" far too literally. They shook their head and whimpered in disagreement.

"It may seem that it is, however it is more useful to have it ready to spare time. And if you let it rest it will taste greater."- they explained, the idea was not foolish so discussing it would lead to nothing.

"Let's boil milk! We need 150 milliliters and a hint of vanilla!"-they pronounced vanilla a bit weird, yet Kurapika did too. It was perhaps a shared trait in nonnative speakers.-"I absolutely savor milk! I believe it to be the superior beverage."-they stated pouring the milk into a saucepan, it looked never used. 

"Because you're a cat?"-A hint of a tease as well as a bit of genuine interest in the question.

"Probably! When I was little, I used to give choccy milk to my cat each time I had."-another weird frank response-"Next, whisk two egg yolks with 25 grams of sugar."

"You had a cat? As a pet? Considering that you are a cat, it would not be bizarre to have one as a pet?"-He had no idea that (Y/n) had former pets, even fewer cats. A bit uncanny to own a miniature version of yourself as a pet.

"Mmm..."-they shook their heads from side to side in uncertainty-"Not really. Humans make friends with other humans. An accompaniment animal is just a friend or an adoptive member of your family. The difference is that since it is another species, humans treat it as inferior."- they exposed their point of view, as they quickly whisked.

"I think you are right."-he mumbled, feeling a bit ridiculous. After all, wasn't that the reason why they had been exterminated? The person in front of him was not even human; and yet they seemed to possess a more comprehensive notion of humanity than many humans.

"Sunshine, would you mind passing me the cornstarch, please?"-their request pushed kurapika out of his reflection.

"Sure, how...how much?"- he vacillated.

"15 grams, please."-he poured the cornstarch into a small jar and passed it to them.

"Thank you!"-they continuously added the starch into the mixture. It felt so homely to cook together.

Kurapika remembered seeing his mother cook, accompanying her in the kitchen and sometimes passing her some things. (Y/n) remembered how they liked to sit in the breakfast nook's chairs to read while their grandmother prepared meals that they still remember nowadays with affection.

"Now that the milk is boiling, we add it to the yolk mixture, and we return it to the saucepan!"-they announced.-"It says we have to be careful and to stir continuously until the custard thickens."

"At the Solstitium celebrations, what different activities did you used to do?"-the blonde continued to ask with a soft smile. He loved to hear his beloved's memories.

"Oh! We had a lot of activities! Some carried out by the different groups for the rest: Dogs and wolves had a chorus howling to the moon, rabbits, and deers their dance. I participated in the ball of cats and mice, but I was the only cat, which converted it rather the cat and mice dance."-they gushed, happy words flowing like honey.-"At those parties, we wore beautiful and distinctive gears. They were bright and full of embroidered flower decorations. We all got united to dance and roar around bonfires, the children drew pictures, made flower crowns, and presented plays, music was played. But what I loved the most was the spring dance. The participants gathered around a noble flower decor and we danced holding hands and ribbons until we could no longer stand. The last one to hold, for enduring all the dance, he was named spring's royalty! And had an honored seat during the rest of the celebration."-They continued to whip the cream until cooked, a soft expression never leaving their face. Once removed from the heat they added a tablespoon of butter and left to rest in the refrigerator.

Kurapika would have loved to see (Y/n) dance. A real shame. At least he already knew why they always used some embroidered flower decoration.

"Are you ready to make the almond cream?"-they continued, persistent in their crusade for the dessert.-"Kurapika, please put two entire eggs in a bowl, 100 grams of sugar, 125 grams of almond powder, and 100grams of soft butter, please. I'll mix it."-(Y/n) requested as they washed their hands. You couldn't tell they cooked poorly, but some practice was lacking, resulting in some spattering. Kurapika obliged their request, it was not uncommon for one to ask the other to do things. They didn't usually argue about "who was in the lead"; it was stupid. They just helped mutually.

"Hunny bun!"-another pet name (Y/n) liked. But how couldn't they? Kurapika was sweet as one! Hearing the honeyed name he came to them -"Here!"-The container with the almond cream was brought to his face. A very sweet smell filling his nose.-"It smells good, doesn't it?"-they bragged with a bright smile. 

He smiled too, seeing someone you love happy, spreads happiness.-"I can't deny that it smells delightful! We made nice work, darling."

"And we have not finished yet! The final result is even more scrumptious."-they announced.

(Y/n) stared a moment into the sticky sweet cream filling. They then directed silently towards their lover, resting a moment, supporting his weight on the counter. they took some of the mixture with two of their fingers and smeared it on his face.

"Boop!"-they started to laugh at the boy's face of surprise. They had already made some plays, but never pranks before. Oh! It was better for him to get accustomed to it, they were mischievous sometimes!

"Hey! Why did you do that?"-he of course faked some anger, but couldn't hide his smile.-"Come here! I will get revenge on you, sneaky cat!"

They screeched covering their smile with both hands. Kurapika started chasing them around the kitchen, as they slipped away and they avoided his grasp. They were there for a while. At one point, (Y/n) even got on all fours in their cat form as they jumped and ran from side to side just to complicate the situation for him. They eventually ran out of air and ended up getting caught.

"No, no, no, no!"-they started producing noises between hissing and laughing. Having them already in his grip, Kurapika cleaned the almond cream from his features with his hand and stamped it on their face. (Y/n)'s first reaction was to shrug their shoulders executing a grimace, wrinkling their face with a weird smile to next shook their head to the sticky foreign sensation.

"You asked for it (Y/n)! I told you I will get a payback!"-he mocked. It felt so gratifying to play a little!

"Jokes on you, my dear. I'm a cat!"-they snickered back, with their wands on the hips. They proceeded to wipe the candy with the back of their hand and lick it.-"Mouthwatering!"

They both laughed out loud, forgetting for a brief moment full of joy all their sorrows and desolations.

"You got fortunate. I want to taste it too. Let's finish the tart."-he smirked after giggling.

"It appears perfectly fair to me! We just have to incorporate the custard into the almond cream and the filling will be ready."-they continued to chuckle.

"And then we bake it?"-he inquired, really wanting to taste the dessert, it was merely the filling, but the smell was appetizing.

"I wish that, my love. But in the book, it says we must leave the dough rest some more time."-was the answer, accompanied with a light head shake. They had already calmed down completely.

"In that case, I will go sit down a moment."-Kurapika was starting to feel drained. It was late at night, and they had had a heavy day.

"Then I will prepare tea, is that okay?"-they said softly, realizing their weariness.

Between the warmth of the tea, the comfort of the armchair, and the feeling of peace the sleepiness grew in him. It was good at home. He didn't even realize he fell asleep.

~

Kurapika felt a poke on his right cheek and a sweet smell.

"Kurapika."- a whispering voice sang.-"My love, the frangipane is ready!"

His head was resting on the back of the chair. When he opened his eyes, he discovered a (e/c) pair with dilated pupils looking at him tenderly. He raised his head and looked around. As he looked down, he observed a padded blanket covering his body.

"You feel asleep."-(Y/n) whispered to him so as not to stun him.-"But the cake is ready and warm."-their eyes looked a bit tired too. A patisserie sitting on the coffee table in front of him. The cake was round, golden, and shiny. The crust had some simple flower-carved motif.

His lover was sitting by his side, waiting with an impatient stare and a smile. Kurapika sat back in his spot. (Y/n) approached the pastry and cut two pieces, placing them in round candy plates, passing him his share. It was two layers of golden puff pastry with a light almond luscious filling in-between. It had a sweet, buttery aroma. 

He grabbed the spoon and took a taste of the desert. The top was crispy and buttery, and the interior creamy, sweet and soft, a little fruity. It was a delicious homey and beloved flavor, as from an unknown childhood.

(Y/n) watched him waiting impatiently for his answer.

"It's deletable."-he smiled.

Then, they took a spoonful of cake. "Yummy!"-Immediately flapping their hand in happiness while savoring the candy.-"We did it! It tastes just like I remember."-they approved with a smile.-"My mami always doing what I can't, even believing in me when I don't."-they laughed.

"She left you a good recipe."-he assured.

"I'm certain she's proud of us in this precise moment."-they added, looking down at their plate.

"Did you do the flowers?"-Kurapika wondered, examining the crust of the tart.

(Y/n) hummed and nodded in confirmation-"With a scalpel!"

It made sense that they were skilled with blades, they were doctors after all.

"I used to eat this very often with my brother."-they mentioned taking another nibble of cake.

"You had a brother?"-he was surprised, they never had suggested the existence of siblings before.

"Not as such."-they tilted their heads, reflecting a way to describe it-" We were offsprings from different parents. Though we were both only children. In our community, in these cases, we were assigned a symbolic sibling. The fraternity was for taking care of each other."-The Kurta Clan didn't have something equivalent, but from what little they had mentioned, the Unilium were also a tiny community. Depending on their unison to preserve and care for each other. That practice, within its private Clan's rules, made sense.-"His name is Julian, he was a dog. As I was raised by wolves, by right of blood, I belonged to the order of wolves. Canis Lupus and Canis Lupus Familiaris, by proximity. Moreover, as we were from litters of just two years apart, we got joined."

Of the two, perhaps it was (Y/n) who spoke less about their origins and Clan. Kurapika had already mentioned, albeit vaguely: Pairo, his grandfather, and some adventures of the Lusko province. It also cannot be overlooked that (Y/n) liked to ask questions about it and always listened to him with application and interest in the subject. They generally cared about learning about the Kurta.

"And the cats? Didn't you had your order?"-he pondered, it was his turn to learn.

"Something similar. I was the only cat... I mean, not because it's something special, there just hasn't been a cat in a while. Finally, it was my turn."-they shared.-"The method of organization was somewhat tricky. If your parents were of a different race than yours, you belonged to their order; having been raised by them. Like a blood right, in that manner, no one was left without an order."-they specified once more-"The proximate orders were united. It was not a caste system, only that rabbits did not have the same abilities and dilemmas as wolves, for example. Having someone who had been through the same or similar as you eased."

They were silent for a few seconds, remembering. Kurapika wanted to ask more about their brother although he wasn't sure if it was convenient.

"Julian was a nice dog."-they looked down and stared at the tart piece a moment, with a trembling smile. Maybe they felt Kurapika's curiosity about the case. Perhaps they just wanted to remember him, who knows. But he started talking as if he knew accurately what was on the other person's mind.

"Poor him, they forced him to babysit me!"-they laughed, easing again-"His favorite food was egg sandwich."-they snickered-"Isn't that weird? One would expect something else..."-they continued to chuckle-"I don't know, something special. Some pasta, some stew, but no, just that. I mean, it was beneficial for me. Extorting him with food was pretty easy."- They always had been sneaky and playful after all! 

After that joke, they were silent for another moment. Kurapika wanted to say something to cheer them up, he had to. They continuously did. But they got ahead of him, speaking just as he opened his mouth.

"Kurapika, please wait here, I have something for you!"-they begged, heading to their kitchen. It didn't take long for them to come back with a large bouquet of beautiful flowers of different colors. The flowers were placed in several layers in long stems. They sat down next to him and offered them to him with a gentle and bashful smile. Kurapika had a surprised expression. He was not expecting a gift, less so unexpectedly.

(Y/n) avoided his gaze looking at the bouquet and tilting their head.

"They are gladioli."-they stated softly-"Its general symbolism is that of innate elegance. Its structure resembles that of a sword, recalling victory and strength. As well as the sources of ideals and honor."-they began to explain-"I also selected certain particular colors. White gladioli besides symbolize remembrance; oranges to others furthermore are an invitation to love; reds are for passion and strength of the spirit; finally, pink are a sign of good wishes. Gladioli are also known as the flower of victory."-their face was burning.-"I offer them to you as a genuine symbol of appreciation and love." Kurapika took the flowers and stared at them. He carefully touched the fragrant petals; they were fine. He was extremely touched by the gesture. He felt accepted and supported. The gift was overflowing with love and care, it was honoring. 

"Thank you (Y/n), they are precious."-he was not sure how to express all the warm feelings that were flooding him at that moment, and the drowsiness did not do him any favors-"thank you, dearly."- He had an immense desire to hug them, to hold them close and never let go.

"Kurapika, you're exhausted."-they delicately remarked, smiling lovingly-"We should go to bed, sorry for keeping you awake."-They got up and gathered the supplies before Kurapika could respond.

"No, it's okay. I'm fine."- he tried to reassure them when they came back.

"It's still 2:43 am. the most suitable thing is to go to sleep."- they couldn't deny they were tired as well.

"I suppose your right..."-he didn't had much force left, the tiredness was taking over.

They both marched to the bedroom. The bed was full of stuffed animals like last time. (Y/n) directed themselves to the bathroom.

"I'll use the restroom a moment if you don't mind."-they announced. 

"Are you taking a shower at this hour? Is it needed?"-he asked astonished. It was quite late and they seemed fatigued.

"Mmm... something alike, is intricate to explain. Although I promise I'm not going to delay."-they explained getting into the bedroom. Kurapika took advantage of that time to change clothes and put on his loose white pajamas. 

As promised, they didn't took long. When they came back with slightly damp hair, the blonde had barely had time to arrange all his belongings and was getting into bed.  (Y/n) got into bed on the same side as last time. This time they took the initiative and approached Kurapika, cupping his face. It was one of those rare moments when they looked into his eyes. He took those opportunities to admire their (e/c) catlike eyes. They were special and wonderful to him. They said nothing. (Y/n) slowly approached him and gave him a shaky kiss. It was the first time they had kissed him on the lips. The order of events in the relationship may not be the conventional ones. But Kurapika was aware that close physical contact costed them. He didn't mind taking it carefully either, it was worth it to him. It was a quick kiss. He leaned forward and kissed them again. They tasted sweet. Both finally leaned on the bed, close to each other, putting their faces together. (Y/n) slightly rubbed their cheek against his before snuggling. Holding him tight, they started to pet Kurapika's soft blonde hair.

"Goodnight darling." He whispered, feeling so loved, and being overcome by sleep.

"Goodnight sunshine"-they muttered back-"I'm assured they would have too loved you..."

[whump-town]

Quantico  Hope

Based on the text post created by @criminalmindsgonewrong so lots of praise goes to her (if not for the idea than because she’s a queen and I love her content). All of my medical scenes came from E.R, Grey’s Anatomy, or Chicago Hope so don’t come for me. Hotchniss is the main ship, warning for language

Emily Prentiss wakes up in a stranger’s bed. The comforter is thick, soft but the pattern is something only a bachelor would choose. It’s a flannel pattern, blue flannel. Knowing that no woman would willingly buy it is a small comfort. She’d never done it on purpose but she can still think of more than one occasion in which a one night stand came to a crashing halt as a spouse made their existence known. She had been chased from quite a few apartments half-dressed.

Topless, she wraps the sheets around her breast as she sits up. Her John is laying on his side and she has to lean close to see his face. She peaks over his shoulder but her quick movement catches nothing but thick brown hair and a five o’clock shadow. It does nothing to spur her memory so she places a hand on his hip to stabilize herself as she leans over him. 

“Fuck,” she grunts, pushing herself back away from him. 

On her back, hand slapped on her forehead she breathes out a shaky sigh. “No, no, no,” she rolls off the bed. Blindly scooping up her things on the floor. Waking up in a stranger’s bed can be disorienting but waking up in a bed that is unfamiliar with your best friend sleeping right beside you- so, so much worse. This is all Jennifer Jareau’s fault. Her and her stupid sentiments about how one more drink can’t possibly hurt. 

She hears a groggy groan from the bed and she winces as she draws her arms to her chest. It’s instinct to squint her eyes, her subconscious encouraging the childish idea that if she can’t see him he can’t see her. As still as she can, frozen in her spot she waits for him to move.  

She is beyond relief when he sighs and settles back down. 

This time, she tiptoes, now far more conscious of the noise she’s making. Her eyes sweep the floor, searching for her lost bra. She’s missing a sock too but she can leave a sock here and not think twice about it but a bra? 

Last night is mostly a blur. She has a faint memory of his hand cupping her bare breast. 

“Hotch,” she breathes against his neck. She’s working his belt off, letting him attack her neck. “Jesus,” his pants fall to the floor, weighed down by his useless belt. Her mouth opens to make a comment about how hard he is but the rough pads of his fingers cup her breast and she arches into the touch.

“Are you sure?” He whispers. “I don’t want you to-”

Both of her hands wrap around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. “Trust me,” she says, breathlessly. “I want this.” She’s wanted it for as long as she’s known him but he was married. So, she stuck to being his friend. His sounding board. “God,” she’s standing in his room, his rough hands pulling her panties to the side to work a finger inside her. 

He pushes her onto the bed, laughing that silly laugh that makes her chest ache, and for the first time in her life, she’s able to kiss him. She shares his goofy joy and she can feel him smiling as he kisses her tenderly. It occurs to her that their quick drunk fuck isn’t going to be so simple. His eyes are sober and his actions are soft.

His lips start to wander and her stomach flutters as he kisses her hip bones. He looks up at her suggestively, his hands spreading her thighs. He kisses the inside of her thigh, smiling as she can’t control the way they shake. 

“Aaron!”

Emily shudders as she’s pulled from the memory, heart pounding as he groans from beneath the mound of comforter he’s curled under.

The sheets rustle and Emily turns from the door to watch Hotch bolt upright in the bed. He’s on his feet in a flash, stumbling to the bathroom. He’s not of the state of mind to shut the door behind him so she hears as he gags and vomits into the toilet. 

She closes her eyes and curses him. She can’t leave him alone and if the clock on his nightstand is right, she’s got three hours before she’s due for rounds anyway. Which means, she’s just an awful friend to leave him like this. 

“That was gross,” she leans against the bathroom door frame. “You got a little-” she pats the side of her lip. She’s grinning ear-to-ear at his expense. He may be her best friend but it’s still far and in-between when she gets to see him so human. Without the white coat and stoic frown, he can be himself. He can be the stressed-out single father, going through a tough divorce, who spends nearly all of his waking hours depriving himself of comfort.

He drops his forehead against the cool toilet lid and groans. Wrapping a hand around his stomach, he curls his long legs beneath him. “Why are you being mean to me?” He rubs at his mouth, disgusted when his fingers find a bit of vomit on his lip. It makes his stomach roll with a vengeance that makes his head pound mercilessly. He ends up, gagging miserably again, nothing coming up. 

“Alright,” Emily steps in, rubbing at his back. She stands beside him, rubbing his back until he pulls his head up. “Let’s get back to bed,” she hooks her arm under his. It takes a moment, he doesn’t want to let her help him. She doesn’t relent and he caves, allowing her to ease him to his feet.

She’s pretty tall for a woman but getting him to his feet is nothing short of a small feat. "Jesus, " she grunts. He stumbles, leaning heavily on her. Everyone had noticed the weight he dropped after Haley filed for divorce. She can barely keep him on his feet now, she'd hate to have had to do it three months ago. "You're heavy!"

Hotch stops, glaring down at her. It’s a mystery to her how he can look exhausted, nauseated, and angry at the same time. He puffs like an angry little fish, strangely cute. “Are you saying I’m fat?” He makes a failed attempt to stand up straighter, making a soft grunting noise as his stomach revolts against the idea. 

Emily rolls her eyes, drama queen. “No,” she pushes him onto the bed. “You’re just a giant.” He bounces as he sits, frown set right in place. “Aaron,” she puts her hand on her hips and frowns right back at him. “Just take a nap, nurse your hangover, and remember to be in at ten when your shift starts.” She pats his shoulder and plants a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll bring you a coffee, huh?”

He yawns, grimacing as his head and stomach both protest. Sleepily, he rubs at his eyes, laying back on his bed. “I gotta…” he yawns mid-sentence. “Going to a parent-teacher meeting.”

She tries very hard not to look completely devastated. “Oh,” so no coffee. “Okay, I’ll see you after that then.”

He nods, “and I’ll  bring the coffee.”

__________

Last Friday when Aaron had cornered Dave and asked him to cover some basic stuff for him, Dave imagined he’d be doing some rounds, picking up after an intern, or fussing with an attending. He hadn’t expected a very specific, in-depth list of things for him to do:

8 a.m. take Reid to check-in on patients (keep communication at a minimal)

8: 30 a.m. bust Savannah Hayes (the nurse from the Emergency Room) and Derek Morgan in the second-floor on-call room

8:45 a.m. bring Garcia a non-fat almond milk vanilla lattee--

The man has stones… and that wasn’t even half the list. There are annotations, they came color-coded with sticky notes on additional pointers. Thumbing through the several pages worth of notes and instructions, Rossi shakes his head. Of course, he knows his old prodigy is a busy man. As much as he would like to think he’s what keeps this hospital on its feet… Aaron has a lot to do with it, too.

He’s got a knack for running into trouble just as it’s happening and juggling fixing the problem with making sure it never happens again. Which, in this hospital,-- a cesspool of one night stands, rule-bending, and overbearing masculinity-- makes him a very valuable member for the good side. Good meaning one of the few members of staff without his hands in another staff member's pants.

The problem is, Dave’s hardly got the time to comply with the whole list of nonsense demands Aaron wants him running about doing. He loves Aaron dearly, the boy is like his son but he’s a bit anal-retentive and Dave just… well, he doesn’t want to do all of this stuff. The hospital isn’t going to fall apart if he doesn’t meet every single thing on this list.

Well… hypothetically, right?

“Where’s Hotch?”

Rossi steps out of his office and finds Reid standing on the other side, weirdly close. “Woah,” he takes a step back when the genius doesn’t. He shakes his head, folding the list in his hand in half before regarding the doctor in his doorway. “Reid,” he acknowledges, stepping around the genius, and shutting his office door behind him. “I believe we’ve got rounds to attend to, correct?”

Brainbox is what a few members of staff have taken to calling the young genius. Hotch had made a point to talk to the other leading heads in departments to make sure they weren’t calling Reid that and for the most part, that had slowed down the spreading of the nickname. Dave understands why Hotch got ahead of that problem but on the same hand, it’s kind of fitting.

Reid nods, looking around Rossi and into his dark office. “Yeah but Hotch always takes me.” Technically, taking Reid on rounds is supposed to be Dave’s job. Hotch just made time for it. If Hotch times everything just right, he can get Reid on the second floor near the on-call room to bust Derek and Savannah with enough time to get Garcia her coffee and have time to swing by the cardiac wing and say hi to Emily.

Speaking of--

“What are you two doing down here?” Emily and JJ are standing where Dave is supposed to be, a smooth-talking Derek and meek looking Savannah standing between the pairs. Which means that the pair busted the couple before Dave could. It burns Dave. That skinny little runt. That bastard. Hotch has Emily on the same hunt as him because Hotch doesn't think Dave would do the list.

He’s right but… still, it kinda hurts. 

Emily isn’t wearing her signature smirk. For once, she’s got a one-up on him and she’s not biting. Something’s got her down. She offers a simple tight-lipped nod. “Hotch has me trailing you,” she informs him and Rossi understands exactly what it is that’s bothering her or better yet <i>who</i>. “He just doesn’t want the hospital burning down.”

So much for Dave’s earlier sentiment of Hotch keeping his hands to himself. Now, what’s he to do? He’s pissed that Aaron has hurt Emily but they’re both like his kids. What he needs to do is strangle for being stupid. Aaron for never outright telling anyone how he feels and Emily for letting men hurt her.

God, they just… The little idiots get under his skin like nobody else. 

“He’s a tight-ass,” Rossi mumbles, shaking his head. And a dumbass if he’s right about Emily. He puffs, “this place isn’t going to fall apart just because he misses a few hours.” Dave has been doing this for a long time. He didn’t get Chief of Surgery dicking around… well, he did a little bit but that’s not the point being made. 

Emily smiles, even if it looks a little forced. “Tell him that,” she offers with an eye roll. “I’m just not going to waste my energy with that argument.” Arguing with Hotch is a very taxing and pointless excursion. Especially, if the subject at hand goes against his paranoias and anxieties. So, in other words, the idea that the hospital won’t burn down without him.

Rossi can feel the mood shift and Derek must too because he kisses Savannah's cheek and excuses himself. “I’ve got my own rounds to attend to,” he admits. “Pretty boy,” he calls Reid to him. “Care to join me?” Morgan can handle a little responsibility. He won’t let Reid’s work slack on account of him.

Reid looks between Dave and Prentiss, unsure if he’s allowed to agree with Derek. Ultimately, he sees no qualms being raised by either of them so he nods and his head. He tucks his hands in his pocket and stands by Morgan’s side. Waiting for the plastic surgeon to leave.

“I’ll catch you later,” Derek says with a wave of his hand. Fully intending to make good on that promise at lunchtime where he’ll attempt to tear down Emily’s walls to get her to talk about whatever is bothering her right now. With any luck, it’ll be something juicy.

Rossi turns and watches the pair walk away, wondering how many more chores he’s been left to do. “I should probably--” he lets his voice wander off as he pulls the list from his pocket. He motions to with an air of defeat, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Can I trust you two to behave?” 

JJ smiles, “I think we both know that the only pair you should be worried about just walked off to do rounds.” Her smile broadens as she considers all the mischief Reid and Morgan can get into. “However, if I were you, I’d go investigate what they’re really off doing because I’ve never known Morgan to do his work on time and not last minute.”

Dave is obviously not buying her diversion but she’s planted the seeds of fear in his mind. Unable to think of anything aside from whatever Morgan and Reid are out ruining, he lets them go. Besides, he’s certain he’ll figure it out sooner rather than later anyhow.

As soon as Dave turns the corner, JJ turns back to Emily. 

“So,” the blonde inquires knowing they’re both working on a tight schedule. “You and Hotch?” 

Emily nods. She doesn’t regret it. That’s what she’s learned from her morning full of nothing but introspection. She wishes she regretted it because then she’d be able to tell JJ that she's not madly in love with him. “We were drunk,” she tells her because somehow that makes it okay. But then she remembers how he kept asking if she was okay. 

It’s the bare minimum but… no one’s ever actually done that before.

“I’m surprised he could,” JJ admits. “He had a lot to drink.” They’d been celebrating… something. Reid and Garcia were celebrating, actually. The rest of them were just drinking away another miserable day at this hospital. 

Emily nods her agreement. It’s unusual for Hotch to drink let alone get drunk enough to have sex with her. “He was very sweet,” she admits.

JJ smirks… What else was she expecting? Hotch can be an asshole but the majority of the time he really is a gentleman. Unless you incur his wrath and if you do… well, that’s your business. He’s a bit of a hothead but it does take a lot to get him worked into yelling. 

Besides, Hotch is nothing but a sweetheart to Emily. They can act as blind as ⅔ of the three blind mice but that doesn’t change the heart eyes they exchange. It still leaves a lot to be desired on a lot of their exchanges, though. The way he reaches over and, without prompting, opens boxes or bags for her. The way Emily creeps into his personal space and he doesn’t comment or even step back.

“I don’t think it’ll work out, though.” Emily takes a long sip from her coffee, eyes thoughtfully trailing off. Actually, she’s not sure it won’t work but she’s about thirty percent sure he doesn’t love her and she needs someone to tell her that she’s not making it up. 

JJ scoffs at that. 

Emily stops walking, eyeing her friend up. “What?” Of course, she wants to know exactly what’s warranted that reaction.

JJ rolls her eyes, “Emily, I have watched you two make some of the most disgustingly adorable faces at each other for the better part of the last year. I’ve seen Haley watch your every move.” JJ picks her pace up, leaving Emily in her momentary frozen state. “He’s hopelessly in love with you Emily and if you don’t feel that way back then you’re lying to yourself and to him.” JJ turns around, walking backward so that her words are met with Emily’s full attention. “And you both deserve better than that.”

__________

Penelope Garcia is certain that someone is leaving her out of the loop.

For starters, Derek and Spencer are giggling in one of her observation rooms. Meaning that they’re not being watched… as they should be.

Emily and JJ brought her coffee this morning.

Dave has been MIA, besides coming down here half an hour ago to ask where Morgan and Reid had “fucked off to”. She would have happily informed him of the shenanigans, no doubt, happening in her emergency room, but Morgan had gotten to her first. Who is she to say no to her Chocolate Thunder so of course, she told Dave she hadn’t seen him yet this morning.

“MVA with three vics incoming!”

Garcia sighs, standing up from behind her desk. She looks over the doctors and staff floating through the emergency room. “Charlotte,” she calls the baby nurse over. Baby being the term she’s using because Charlotte is all of about twenty-three. She finds it adorable. “Honey, do you know where Hotch is?”

Another nurse, Savannah Hayes, steps up to the station. “Uhm, he’s on call.” There’s something about her knowing smile that tells Garcia exactly why Savannah knows that: Derek Morgan. “Off to a-a…” she snaps her fingers as she tries to recall what Morgan was telling her earlier that morning. “Parent-teacher meeting,” she recalls. “He’ll be back later though.”

Garcia frowns, making a mental note to ask about the meeting later. She’s about to ask how Morgan is since she hadn’t seen him that morning when the emergency room’s doors open and the EMTs run-in with the first victim.

“Forty-year-old car crash victim, head-on collision.” The EMTs come in running, shouting out information to whoever will listen. “Pressure is 50 over palp, his respirations were shallow in the field.” The stretcher is relinquished to the closest E.R. doctor. “Pupil dilation was equal and reactive at sight. ”

Garcia pulls herself together, clearing her throat as she steps up to the stretcher. “I want--” the order dies on her lips. The man on the stretcher is pale, paler than normal. His black hair plastered to his scalp, not in it’s usual combed but contained mess. His brow isn’t furrowed and he’s not looming and glooming but she’d know him anywhere.

Her brain blanks. Training and training and protocol and protocol but… It’s not very often she gets a friend in here. “Uhm,” she can feel the emotions taking over where she should be calm. Hotch needs her to be calm. “I need you to take him to--” her mind blanks but her pointing finger guides the seasoned EMT well and the two separate with a business-like nod.

“I need someone to--” Garcia turns and Charlotte is right there. “I need you to call the Chief down here and-and Derek and everyone!” She doesn’t look back or check to make sure she’s understood, she follows Hotch into the next room. There are ethics and protocol and so many things running through her head as she grabs her boss’s hand but there’s not a chance in hell anyone’s pulling her away.

Once in the room, she sets about doing her job. Looking up only as the curtain is thrown back and she finds David Rossi looking back at her.

“It’s Hotch.”

Garcia cuts through his shirt, the thin Hanes material giving like butter with her scissors. Tears sting her eyes, “oh, my liege.” She looks up and Derek and Spencer are right behind Dave, everyone filing in. It takes them a moment, just as it did her before they throw themselves into their jobs.

Rossi pulls the cut shirt away, shaking his head. “Chest movements are paradoxical,” he informs them, moving his hands to palpate Hotch’s abdomen. “Abdomen is rigid, too.” He places the stethoscope on Hotch’s diaphragm, sighing. “I need to place a chest tube, get me a cart.” He throws the stethoscope cord back around his neck, stepping to the side.

Out of the corner of her eye, Garcia sees Rossi going for the tools he needs for a chest tube. She doesn’t want to say they don’t have time for that but… “Pulse ox is 82,” Garcia informs them. “It was just 88.” Her hands are trembling as she moves around them, a flurry of movement all of them trying to do their jobs. “Oxygen is dropping.”

Morgan curses, “I need to intubate him.” The utensils are already gathered in his hands-- muscle memory to reach out for the tools that are cold and familiar in his palms. “Do you want to be the one to tell him he’s got heart damage or worse because we let his oxygen drop to below 80?”

Reid, standing by Hotch’s head, interlaces his fingers and shakes his head. His anxiety is sky high, it’s all too much. “Can’t,” he mumbles, shaking his hands out. “If a patient with pneumothorax or other indication for tube thoracostomy requires intubation and mechanical ventilation, the chest tube should be inserted first to avoid creating an iatrogenic tension pneumothorax.” He presses his palms into his temples. All the noise, everyone shouting is overstimulating him.

It’s why he doesn’t work in the emergency room.

“I just need a second, dammit!” Rossi’s hands are shaking, “let me get the chest tube in!” The scalpel in his hand trembles over Hotch’s skin. He’s pale from adrenaline and clammy to the touch. The emergency room feels different without Hotch looming over them. He’s not shouting out orders into the chaos or guiding anyone through procedures with his scarily calm voice.

“Dave? Come on, man!”

Rossi shakes his head, clearing his dismal thoughts. He clenches his jaw and makes the incision into the fourth intercostal space. “Clamp,” the cold metal is pressed into his palm and he places it inside the area. “Dissecting the pleural space,” he mumbles, working the clamp under Hotch’s skin so that the area can accept the tube.

Hotch’s body jerks away from Rossi, a soft grunt coming from his mouth. Reid steps back to his head, clicking his penlight on. “Right pupil is five millimeters and reactive,” Reid hovers by his friend’s head. He guides the light to Hotch’s left eye, yelping when the man jerks his head away from the light. “Hotch?” His eyes blink open, his head turning from the penlight. “He-He’s conscious!”

Rossi stands up from his spot, pulling his bloodied gloves off. He moves to Hotch’s head, “Aaron? Aaron, can you hear me?” He presses his warm hand to Hotch’s cheek, guiding Hotch’s attention to him. “Can you hear me, son?”

Hotch’s eyes are jerking around the room, his mouth open but silent as he writhes in pain. He can’t breathe. His chest is heavy but he’s only thinking about one thing: <i>Jack</i>. The strangled sound that leaves his mouth is inhuman, he doesn’t recognize it. The pain becomes excruciating.

“Sedate--” all too familiar with that word, Hotch turns his head towards Derek. The other man is red in the face, his anxiety bubbling into rage. Profanities litter his speech but Hotch’s mind is too exhausted to nitpick out the words. For now, the only one worth thinking about is sedate.

He pulls away from the bed, a burst of energy leaving him trembling but upright in the stretcher. “N-No!” Jack. Jack was in the back seat. He couldn’t reach Jack. He has to get to-- Something cold runs into his arm and looks down, body suspended by his friends and coworkers, and it’s Reid. In his hands is the syringe Garcia had gotten out. Hotch feels his chest tighten-- he feels betrayed.

“Easy, son.”

Hotch feels himself falling back but he doesn’t hit the hard surface of the gurney beneath him but rather hands. Gently, he’s guided back down. Sweat sleeks his hair to his face and he’s limp in the hands as Derek steps towards his head. They’re talking-- words he understands but…

Derek cranes his neck back, Hotch can see his lips moving, but he’s not taking in any of the words. He <i>knows</i> they’re asking him to do a simple task: blink on command to questions or offer a thumbs up. His inability to do these tasks, to even focus on anything other than the cold air on his exposed flesh is the reason they keep moving around him. Shouting as if he isn’t really there at all.

A thumb presses on his chin, forcing his jaw open. He grimaces as cold metal slides into his throat. Floating between conscious and unconsciousness, he gags and feels himself twist to get away from the tube pressing into the back of his throat.

“Easy--” someone comforts as hands press his shoulders down.

Air fills his lungs, it hurts-- every muscle, bone, tendon, <i>everything</i> hurts. He can breathe though, full lungfuls of air. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the ambu bag, bright blue, and in Reid’s hands. They make eye contact and Hotch watches as Reid syncs their breathing. The young genius’s shoulders rise as Hotch’s lungs fill and fall as he exhales.

There was once a time when Hotch had stood by Reid’s side, his hands covering Reid’s over the ambu bag. He’d always been able to be more patient with Reid than he was with many other students. Reid’s just a kid. So he made a point to remember that in every interaction he had with the genius.

And he’d grown to appreciate Reid’s unique sense of humor. He’s a good guy.

A good kid.

“Hotch?” Reid’s throat tightens as he watches a pained grimace come across his boss’ face. He’s uncomfortable and in pain but Reid can’t do much besides keeping the ambu bag moving at a steady pace. “Garcia?” He feels a flutter of anxiety knotting his heart up. “Can’t you do something? He’s in pain.”

Morgan interrupts whatever Garcia’s going to say with a shout, “just pulled a positive tap!” A second later, the metal starts hitting the table with a clatter. The wheels of the stretcher unlock, the guard rail going up. “He’s got blood in his abdomen, he needs to get into the OR, now!”

Dave takes a stumbling step back, his arms raised above his head. It’s muscle memory to pull them away from the field-- the field, of course, being his friend's bleeding body. His heart sinks to his feet but follows in the direction that Derek is pushing Hotch. His voice barking out orders that echo down the hall.

Dave watches them go.

“Sir,” an attending waves him down. “Hotchner’s wife is gonna need heart surgery.”

Dave’s got another job to attend to.

He has Savannah call Emily to the OR. He meets his team in the room. They’re working with silence. “If you can’t pull yourself together,” his voice is harsh because they’re past life and death. “Get out of my OR.” He looks around the crowd of faces, nurses and doctors he’s known for years. There’s a solemn understanding.

They wait on edge.

“Prentiss won’t know,” Dave tells the team. His eyes move to the woman on the table and without a word, he draws back the blue cloth over her eyes. The room stands in silent shock. All of them recognize her.

Haley Hotchner.

They’ve seen the evolution of the divorce. The way Aaron came into the hospital fresh-faced and new. Haley used to bring him lunch and Dave used to catch them in the on-call room. They’d gotten pregnant, had their ultrasound a floor down from where Haley now lays. Had their boy, Jack, and fallen into a pit.

Haley stopped kissing him between visits to the hospital.

She stopped visiting altogether.

Then Emily had come.

“Prentiss can’t know.”

She won’t know.

Emily Prentiss has mastered the art of chugging hot coffee and running, which is what she’s currently doing. Emergency heart surgery, she’s thrilled. Even more so when she steps into the room and things are already in motion.

“Dave,” she greets the older man as she steps into the operating room. Her hands are raised, waiting for a nurse to place gloves over her hands. “What’re you doing in here?”

It takes every ounce of his self-control to keep his voice steady. He clears his throat, “thought I’d watch the master at work.” Sure, Dave, win her over with flattery. Maybe then she won’t hate you for lying. “That alright with you?”

Emily shrugs, “I don’t mind dazzling you.” Gloves snapped into place, she adds, “but I do prefer Heart Goddess. You know, for future reference.” She turns to Savannah, who she recognizes behind her mask. “What do we have?”

Savannah glances at Dave. For a moment, Dave’s certain the cat’s about to be out of the bag but before he can fill the silence, Savannah clears her throat. “Thirty-five-year-old female with a suspected arterial wall collapse.”

Emily frowns as she walks past the patient, eyes scanning over the ultrasound that’s pulled up. “Suspected?” she repeats. She doesn’t like the sound of suspected but she’s not complaining. It could certainly be worse. She shrugs it away. “I’m gonna time myself,” she announces. “Have you started her on L.R.s?”

“Two liters L.R. and a unit of packed cells.”

Emily nods her head and moves back to the patient. “Alright, sounds good to me.” She extends her right hand, “ten blade.”

They all watch in baited silence as she sets to work.

“It’s a goddamn…” the frustration in her voice is clear. Her brows furrow and she falls silent.

Dave tries to keep himself calm but taking a deep breath doesn’t settle his nerves. He leans over the operating table, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches. “How’s it going,” he asks. He’s a damn good surgeon himself but it’s been a long time since he was running a heart surgery like this one. His specialty runs more towards general.

Emily shakes her head. When the monitors sound in alarm she doesn’t look up to see what it is, the curse she lets out says she already knows exactly what’s wrong. “Her…” Emily pauses as she works. “The inferior vena cava is completely collapsed. I don’t know how she’s--” Both of their heads snap up as the heart monitor sounds out in alarm.

Emily pulls her hands up, shaking her head as she works. “I can’t do anything,” she tells Dave. “Everything’s a mess. She’s bleed dry and I’ve maxed out the dopamine ....” Emily blows out her breath, letting herself think. “Let me try…” she leans back over Haley.

Whatever she’s doing, causes the monitors to get louder. “Dammit!” Emily keeps working, asking for different tools as fast as the nurses can hand them to her.

The monitor flatlines.

Emily pulls her hands out and she looks over at Dave. “There’s nothing I can do,” she admits. “The heart was shredded.”

Dave refuses to believe this. “No,” he tells her. “There has to be something.” His attention snaps up as Derek steps into the room adjacent to the operating room. He’s come for news but Dave can see his eyes travel to the monitor. His shoulders sag and his mouth opens in disbelief.

Dave looks to the ground, “go talk to Derek.”

Emily frowns at him, “what is your problem?”

He doesn’t mean to. It’s nothing against her. None of this is her fault. He stood right here. He saw. She did her best but sometimes there’s nothing you can do. “Go, Emily!”

Sulking away, looking more like a pissed-off teenager than an award-winning surgeon, Emily pulls her gloves off angrily. Making a point to throw them away where Dave can visibly see how hard she throws the limp latex. She shoves her way through the door and shakes her head at Derek. “What the hell is his problem?”

Dave watches through the window.

Derek starts talking, his hands gathering near his chest as he gestures and tries to work around telling Emily the truth.

Emily takes a step back, shaking her head. She argues with him, disbelief. No. Then her head turns to Dave and to the woman laying on the table. To the sandy blonde hair she just barely recognizes until Dave reaches down and moves the blanket draped over Haley’s face.

Dave can hear her muffled shout. Her voice grows frantic and angry as she accepts Derek pulling her to his chest but her fist hitting him. Fighting with everything she’s got for this not to be true.

For Haley to be alive.

Dave begins the slow process of pulling his own garments off. Someone’s going to have to tell Aaron.

He assumes that job is going to be left for him as well.

__________

It takes Dave a minute to find JJ. She’s lost in a sea of children, crouching so that she’s level with them as she speaks. Judging by the bandanna wrapped around her forehead, she’s got them into some game. Which explains how she’s oblivious to the news he’s carrying.

“Hey, kiddos.” He tries and fails to appreciate the youthful hope written across the snotty faces beaming at him. “I’m gonna need to steal Miss JJ for a moment, okay?”

JJ looks up and tells him to wait a moment, before she manages to wiggle out of the grasp of a rather small snot nosed child. Still, she gives the kid a pat on the head before stepping to the side with Dave.

“Aaron was in a car accident--” he tells her everything. That he lied to Emily and that Haley is dead. She takes it in stride. Nodding and inquiring about the surgeries. About Hotch’s outcome. 

“But you think he’s going to be okay?” she asks.

Dave hesitates before agreeing. “His intracranial pressure is being closely monitored but… they all worked to the best of their abilities and--”

JJ nods, right. They’ve got great surgeons under this roof. Hotch would be safer no place else. 

“I need to ask you a favor, though.” He rubs at the back of his neck, sheepishly recalling his short-circuited shout at Emily. 

JJ already knows, “I’ll take care of her.” She steps to the side, attempting to make good on her promise. 

“She’s with--”

“Aaron,” JJ finishes. “I know.” Because where else would she go? When Emily seeks comfort, she goes one to two places. To JJ or Hotch and considering Emily hasn’t been on the ward, the children love her so she’d know she must be with him. 

It doesn’t take long for her to find Hotch's room. JJ steps in, feeling her light bubble pop under the pressure of the blood not completely wiped from Hotch’s face. The additional loom and gloom do not help. “How’s he doing?” The room is devoid of all things light and cheerful. Sucked through the dark whole of her friends’ current moods. 

His vitals are good. A steady resting heart rate of seventy-two. He’s alive and that’s more than they can say for other victims of the crash. 

“He won’t wake up.” Emily stands up from his side. Uncurling her long legs from underneath her as she stretches out. Muscles ache and joints pop as she moves for the first time in several hours. She doesn’t look at him for too long, it makes her chest tight and her throat hurt to see him like this. 

She prefers the medicine of everything. 

She can understand pulmonary edemas, kidney failures, pneumothorax, and flail chest but… The comparison is medicine makes sense. Show her a blocked artery and she’ll work around it. Bypass isn’t an option? No problem. The surgery is over. Vitals are steady. There aren’t chest to crack or hearts to massage. All she can do is sit back and take watch. 

Her best friends sitting in a hospital bed hooked up to machines and she can do nothing. 

“Of course, he isn’t,” JJ grumbles, walking over to the light switch and turning on the lights. Bathed in the dark room, windows shut to cut out all natural light, and surrounded by artificial sound it’s no wonder he’s not waking up. They haven’t given him a reason to. “Emily, you’ve shut out all the natural light. Half of recovery is atmosphere and, if I were Hotch, I’d feel like everyone had given up on me.” 

JJ pulls open the blinds, the bright light making Emily recoil. The room, though, brightens, and JJ can feel the warmth in her chest. It occurs to her that maybe Hotch isn’t the only one who needs some looking after. While they can rest assured that Derek, Penelope, Dave, and Spence will cycle through the room periodically. Each of them checking sutures, drain tubes, and reflex responses. 

No one’s checking on eachother.

“Em,” JJ places a hand on her friend’s shoulder. Emily’s shoulders feel rock hard under her palm. “When was the last time you showered or ate?” 

Emily’s too tired to even think of numbers. Instead she leans into JJ, allowing her head to rest against the space between the blondes neck and shoulder. She’s fighting tears before JJ even hugs her back. “Are you sure you don’t want to run away with me?” she asks. “We can run away right now and do gay crimes and leave all the men in our lives right here.” 

JJ cups the back of Emily’s head, rubbing her back as she considers the offer Emily has been making a lot here lately. After a moment, JJ decides that she loves her best friend with all her heart and that gay crimes sound thrilling but she can’t. Besides the fact that she knows how good Emily is at sex and the gay crimes would be very gay and very nice… Neither really want to leave. “I think we’d better stay here, love.” She kisses Emily’s temple, “besides, I can’t leave in good conscience while Hotch is like this.”

Emily pulls away from JJ, moving her body so that she can lean into the smaller woman. She’s accepted with open arms and they stand leaning and silent as they watch Hotch breath. 

It’s artificial and that comes with it’s own sort of sting but it’s still him. 

“I killed his wife,” Emily whispers after a long moment between the ventilators hissing. 

JJ knows. Dave had come to tell her the minute Haley’s heart stopped the first time on the table. 

“She’s not going to be able to save her,” he’d whispered, hushed and frantic. “It’s going to crush her.”

Now, as JJ feels Emily sobbing silently beside her, she wonders how Dave knew. Emily’s never taken losing well. She’s heavily competitive. So, maybe this is the worst kind. Emily didn’t just fail… she let her best friend’s wife die.

“Ex-wife,” JJ corrects. Because that’s what Hotch and Halery were. Separated. Anybody with two eyes could see they still loved each other but the job always came first for Hotch. Haley… she wanted more. “She was his ex-wife.” Besides that, the distinction is important.

Emily knows it doesn’t matter. “I still killed her,” she replies. “He’s never going to forgive me.”

JJ looks at the man on the bed. There’s nothing she wants more than to reassure Emily that’s not true. She’s seen the way Hotch looks at her when no one else is watching. But she can’t really know. “Let’s go clean up,” she deflects. “You’ll feel better.”

God, Emily hopes she’s right.

__________

“We’re having a party.” Penelope Garcia is standing in front of her family, sans Hotch, with her hands on her hips and enough conviction in her tone to convince them that’s a solid plan. “JJ’s right,” she informs them. They had lunch together like they do every day. It may be normal to have one or two of them missing-- general surgery logs Hotch random hours and heart and brain surgery tend to run on the long side-- this is the first time any of their own have been on the table. 

The first time Reid wasn’t at the table because his hands were meticulously placing holes in Hotch’s head.

“This place is way too gloomy,” and she’s right of course. Even with the light funneling into the room from the blinds JJ pulled up, Hotch is still surrounded by their dismal moods. “We’re having a party.”

After a long moment, each of them rolling this idea around Dave speaks. He’s not against the idea but he’s not exactly going to give it the go-ahead, not yet. “Aaron would hate the attention,” he deduces because that’s the truth. Hotch wouldn’t even talk to them about the divorce.

The papers for which were delivered in the middle of the workday. JJ had been the one to go get Hotch. He was in the middle of a surgery… one that someone else had to finish. 

“He won’t even know,” Garcia informs them. “Reid’s keeping him in the induced coma for another night.”

This is, of course, news to the rest of the room. Reid had gotten out of the surgery and gone to collapse in bed. Exhausted. Emotionally and physically. 

Emily speaks up for the first time since the meeting had been called. “He could--” she realizes how helplessly hopeful she is as soon as the words start to come out. “He could still wake up.”

He could. Reid had decreased his dosage a little post-operation before he’d gone home but before Reid could even leave the hospital Hotch’s intracranial pressure had increased. 

“He could,” Garcia agrees. “That’s why, if he does. He’s going to be surrounded by us. Having a good time.”

And if there’s one thing that rings true through-out that hospital… If Garcia says it, then it’s Gospel.

“I feel stupid,” Emily grumbles, sitting still but not going through the party process as well as her friend would like. She’s in a dress because Garcia wants this to be a fancy party. Full of drinking and music. Emily knows Hotch would be just as happy if she were barefoot and daisy dukes. 

JJ taps her cheek, a small soundless reprimand for moving away from the eye-liner JJ is so meticulously placing on her eyes. 

Emily sits for the remainder of the make-up JJ paints onto her face. She can’t actively see it going on but she still knows it’s a lot.

“Oh my God,” Garcia beams when she sees Emily. “You’re gorgeous.” She looks at JJ, “I love it but we’re not trying to shock the man into another coma when he lays his eyes on our total bombshell babe!” 

Emily rolls her eyes and shakes herself loose from Garcia’s grip. “I’m not sure I can do this.” She admits, sinking back against her chair. “How am I… I couldn’t… I couldn’t fix Haley and I can’t fix my own heart… so, what am I, JJ? Because a heart goddess certainly isn’t it.”

JJ drops her knee, ignoring the way her own dress rides up her thigh. “Emily, you’re the heart Goddess whether you like it or not.” She cups the side of Emily’s face, wiping her thumb across a tear that dares to fall from her friend’s face. “Dave had you do the surgery on Haley because you’re the best surgeon in the damn county.” She shakes her head, “hell in the nation, probably. If you couldn’t save her then no one could and her best chances were when she was on your table.”

Garcia offers a hand on Emily’s shoulder. She squeezes lightly, “you did you best, Em. You tried to save Haley but now we have to go save Hotch.”

Emily nods, caving to the idea. “Fine,” she mumbles, “but I’m not dancing.”

She lasts four seconds because as soon as she steps through the door, Dave sweeps her up. “Dance with me, bella?”

It’s mostly shifting back and forth but she can feel the tension leaving her body as she accepts Dave’s proximity. After a moment of listening to Reid and Morgan’s bickering, Dave clears his throat. “I wanted to apologize for everything that happened earlier,” he tells her. They step closer to one another so that they can hear each other over the sound of the music and monitors. 

“It’s okay,” Emily whispers back, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I know…” she sighs, she’s not sure what she knows.

Dave rubs her back, keeping them moving. “At the very least,” he offers, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” 

She pulls away from his embrace just enough to stand on the tips of her toes and press a kiss to his cheek. “I forgive you,” she promises. 

Air cleared and feeling a little better Dave looks over to Hotch. The kid looks better. It’s hard to tell if that’s a placebo or the truth. “Is it just me,” Dave asks, “or does he seem to be getting more popular?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Maybe I should go into a coma.”

Emily snickers, “Dave, if you went into a coma… how would we ever know?”

Dave stops dancing, mouth open in shock. “I--” he shakes his head. “I can’t…” He shuts his mouth with an audible snap, “I can’t believe you’d say something like that!”

Behind them, Morgan and Reid are still in the heats of an argument about plastic surgery.

“Anybody can--” Morgan flusters, “it’s called aesthetic awareness, pretty Ricky. You don’t have it. It’s a fine-toothed skill and you can’t even color inside the lines.” He looks at Savannah for back-up but his girlfriend doesn’t offer it. “Never mind your mismatched socks. You just don’t have it, kid.”

Before Reid can offer a rebuttal on the matter, Garcia calls his name out.

“He’s waking up!” She dances at Hotch’s side, motioning them all over with a hurried flick of his wrist.

The music is turned down as Reid pulls out his penlight. 

“Hey, kid,” Dave greets softly. He takes Hotch’s left hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’re all here. Reid, JJ, Garcia.” They watch as his eyes open, it’s just a sliver but the soft brown of his eyes greets them back none-the-less. “Morgan and Emily.”

A shiver goes down Emily’s back as his eyes turn over to her. She steps up, feeling awkward as the other’s part to let her through. Garcia lets go of his other hand, letting Emily takes his hand. “Hey,” she greets softly. She smiles, unable to contain her tears when his finger slowly crawls back around hers. 

“You’re gonna be a-okay,” Dave promises. “We’re all here, okay? You can get some sleep.”

His eyes flick over to Dave for a second before returning to her.

Emily looks around the room, uncertain… but her gut is forgotten by her heart as she leans over and places a kiss on his forehead. “Get some sleep, Aaron.”

Dave takes a step back, “good night, kiddo.”

She holds his hand until his eyes slip back shut. Waiting for another moment, just to be sure.

“He’s going to be okay,” Reid reassures her.

Emily steps back from the bed and nods. “I hope you’re right.” But Reid is never wrong and she holds onto that hope with everything she’s got.

@ssaic-jareau @emilyxprentiss @purple-scarf-mistress @blatant-attitude @torimea @jetaime-jespere 

[atheistforhumanity]

Hi. Sorry if this is a bit long, I would totally understand if you don't want to respond to this. So, I live in a very religious country, questions are immoral and we must follow said religion dearly or else. I have only recently begun reading about atheism and so far I feel my beliefs in religion are falling apart. I am no longer convinced of the religion, I am not sure sure if there is a god but i no longer care. However, there is one argument for religion that I just can't seem to respond to that is how do we get a sense of purpose and have a (objective) value system without religion. Without religion, we start lacking purpose because life doesn't matter and when we die nothing happens, so what's the point? With religion however, there is a sense that we were created by a god, who created us for an important reason and it's our purpose to discover that destiny and fulfill it. And without religion, we have no objective set of values, we merely rely on a subject ever changing world view. Like say with lgbt rights. I could say that everyone should do what they want as long as they are not harming others or themselves and that's why I believe that lgbt people should do whatever they want. But, someone might view it as harmful to others or the people in said relationships. So our values are subjective. With religion however, we can just refer to the rule book and that's it. While multiple religions have different set of values, they can still help communities agree on their values. So my question, in a world that lacks religion, how can we have consistent morals and identify our sense of purpose and reason for existence. Thank you.

Anon, thank you for sharing your experience and thoughts with me. I appreciate when anyone seeks my opinion. Thank you. 

You’ve brought up some important topics that many people struggle with. As you have said, I’ve heard many people say that confusion in these areas are most responsible for them being unsure of what they believe. Hopefully after this post you’ll gain some clarity and be able to make a new assessment. 

What is Our Purpose?

I often hear from people that a sense of purpose is their main reason for sticking with religion, even when they have doubts. The religious often flaunt their idea of purpose as an unmatched quality only they can provide. So here is a different way of approaching this question.

When a religious person asks me how to know their purpose, I first point out that they are assuming that we are meant to have a purpose or that an objective purpose is a requirement of life. Many people try to figure out life through the lens of what is meant to happen, but I believe this is misguided. We think this way because our minds seek order and finite understanding of the world around us. Therefore, we assume that we must be meant to do something. 

However, I submit the cold reality of our existence. We are the results of millions of years of evolutionary change on 1 planet out of many, many trillions. Our form of life does not have any objective purpose, because our creation was not planned or orchestrated. This is an idea religious people have a hard time grasping. That what exists was not crafted, constructed, or produced from a greater mind. All evidence points the fact that we are the result of trillions of random occurrences over billions of years. 

If you let go of the assumption that we were purposefully created, then you can let go of the idea that we require an objective purpose. After all, the idea that were created by an intelligent force has no evidence to support that view. There is no evidence to support the existence of a god. There is no evidence to support the idea that we innately have purpose. 

This is not a bad thing. Many people often dive immediately into the lake of hopelessness, saying that nothing matters without purpose. I reject this idea entirely. It is short sighted to say that if my life is not eternal then nothing I do matters. A nihilist says this while existing in a world wide society of billions of people where we see, feel, and know pain and happiness by our actions and the actions of others. We are all aware of well documented history where single figures have had profound world changing effects for good and evil. To put it simply, every action has a consequence, and regardless of how you feel about that consequence, since it undeniably miniscule to profound effects on others that live, it cannot be said that it does not matter. Not when we are creatures of wants, needs, and desires. No, to say that our actions don’t matter is an absurdity. 

Where Do We Get Our Values? 

I say that your actions matter for the fact that they have consequence. But how do we know what is right and wrong, or what those terms even mean without an objective guide?

I have a few things to say on this topic. The first is that the Bible or Quran do not actually set objective morals. Without getting into too much detail, we must recognize major contradictions in the holy books. Rules are set, such as thou shall not kill, but the rules are also broken very quickly and without remorse. Both God/Allah kills and murders on a whim, and on a mass scale. Both God/Allah instruct their followers to kill and slaughter. The morals given by these holy books are purely subjective because they only apply when they say they apply. For instance, rules against not enslaving your neighbors meant exactly that, don’t enslave other Jews, but you can enslave others. 

More importantly, these morals change and progress over time as society challenges the old ideas and ushers in new thinking. No Christians or Muslims live under the exact moral law as set down at the dawn of the religions. ISIS is an example of an attempt to do so. So these religious morals are not actually accepted as objective by the people. 

Second, religion only claims that their morals are object and cannot prove this claim. It takes very little critical thinking to know that one would rather live in America under secular law than any location in 12th Century Europe when religion controlled laws and morals virtually 100%. Every religion has a different set of morals that they claim is objective, yet none can show themselves to be better than another. More importantly, none can show themselves to be as moral as what secular philosophy has produced, which gives the Western world freedom and liberty like the world has never seen. 

As for the idea that it would be easier to follow a “rule book” whether that be the Bible, the Quran, or the teaching of Buddha the same could be said for any other moral philosophy. Society would be simple if we committed ourselves to Utilitarianism completely, but we cannot say it would be better. Our experience across the globe has bore out the simple truth that adopting eclectic laws in an environment where they can always be challenged and improved on is the best model the world has ever seen. There are still theocracies in the world and millions of people from around the globe do not flood to immigrate there. 

Not All Opinions Are Equal 

Once we remove the idea of objective morality, people often go straight to the idea that nothing can be determined because there will always be differences of opinion. They think that without objectivity set by a higher power that no idea can be proven wrong. This is just not true. There is a universal prohibition against murder. Regardless of the fact that some people find it acceptable, by virtue of intellect and practical application it is undeniable that forbidding murder is the best choice for all societies. 

Here we take our first steps toward a new idea of objectivity. Ideas are not objective because of their source, but rather by their merit and application. Universal agreement is not required for an idea to be objectively true. For instance, many people believe the world is flat, but this is objectively false. Morals work the same way. Murder is objectively wrong, but there are still criminals that take it up for sport or work. The fact that someone is too ignorant to see a truth does not mean it is not true. 

Let’s look at the issue of lgbtq people specifically. I wrote another post explaining why the American medical community ended its stance that homosexuality was a mental illness. For much of the 20th century in America, homosexuality was considered to be an illness and a moral wrong. This changed when the American Psychological Association actually started researching homosexuality and could not show any evidence that it caused harm of any kind. 

What if someone says that being gay is harmful to the person? Well, since we’ve found no justification for this, such a person is left with this argument. Homosexuality is bad, and therefore homosexuality is harmful because it’s bad, and it’s bad because it’s harmful. This is a perfect example of circular reasoning. 

While it is not always easy to tell who is right or wrong in a debate, we have developed knowledge of faulty arguments such as circular reasoning, and we know objectively that they are not valid. No matter how many people do not understand this or refuse to accept this is irrelevant. Circular reasoning will never prove anything, no matter how emotionally charge people are over the issue.  

Conclusion

I hope that you take some time to think about these ideas and apply them to the questions you’re wondering about. In short, I believe that religion attempts to create a false need in the mind of society to confirm itself as the answer. We are fully capable of living full, productive, and moral lives without religion in our life or society in anyway. 

[dessarious]

Broken Harmony Pt28

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

Master List 1   Master List 2    Prologue   Beginning   Previous   Next

“Mlle. Bourgeous.” Chloe and Marinette stopped talking when Bruce addressed her. She straightened back up, defaulting into her original demeanor. It was a front when she felt threatened, similar to his if he was honest.

“M. Wayne.” Her tone held wariness and Damian could tell she was expecting a less than warm welcome. He wasn’t sure if that was just because it was what she was used to or because she was expecting it from Bruce specifically. Marinette rubbed the girls back soothingly and he caught the confused look that passed between her parents. 

“Would you like to join us for dinner?” No one expected that least of all Chloe. She physically recoiled and looked about ready to decline but Marinette spoke up first.

“I’d really like to catch up if you don’t have any other plans.” The poor girl looked like she’d woken up in an alternate dimension. Apparently that lost look moved Marinette’s parents enough for Sabine to go into mom mood. She walked up to Chloe and put an arm around her shoulders.

“We’d love for you to join us” Tom gave her an encouraging smile and she looked like her brain melted.

“Okay.” Before she could think about it or reconsider they were all seated in the dining room. She still looked extremely uncomfortable but didn’t appear to be ready to bolt anymore. She was situated between Sabine and Marinette and kept inching closer to the latter as if afraid Sabine might turn on her. Given what she’d said about being a bully he could understand why.

“So Marinette have you given any thought to what school you want to transfer to.” He watched his soulmate blink in surprise at the question before her cheeks turned pink.

“No actually. Between making your gifts and talking to the ‘not sisters’ there wasn’t a lot of time. Besides, I’d like to get to know Damian better first because I have a feeling he’ll go with whatever I want but I want it to be a school he actually likes too.”  The boys awed over her sweetness while Damian rolled his eyes before Dick hooked into the other thing she said.

“Wait what do you mean ‘not-sisters’?” Damian scowled before answering.

“Babs decided to hack into Marinette’s computer so she, Steph, and Cass could see her.” The boys erupted into complaints that the girls got to meet her first but Bruce just let out a sigh, running his hand down his face in annoyance. “I told them it was an unacceptable violation of privacy, and that holds for you lot as well.” He pinned each of his brothers with a glare, lingering on Tim.

“I feel insulted that you believe we would resort to such tactics.” Tim’s words were only met with another glare. Bruce stepped in before it could go further.

“Marinette is Damian’s soulmate. They will decide what safety measures to take and we will abide by them. They do not need our interference or meddling. It will also be up to Marinette to decide what she wishes to share with us.” He stared down each of the boys in turn but also lingered on Tim.

“Oh come on, you act like I’m the only one who does research. Besides you’re the one that asked me to clone her phone.”

“You did what?” Damian’s voice was soft but the other boys flinched. Bruce just gave a tired sigh.

“I figured there were things on it Marinette would want later so I had Tim clone it so we could give the actual phone to the police but she would still have everything. After what happened tonight I think we can all agree that giving them the only copy of that harassment is a bad idea.” There were nods and grumbling from around the table but Chloe turned to Marinette.

“What harassment?” His Angel’s cheeks flushed pink again.

“It’s really nothing. They were just getting out their frustration.”  Her words had the effect of a bomb going off. Denials were shouted from almost everyone present. Damian was fairly certain he heard Jason muttering about getting his guns while Sabine said something in Mandarin that almost made him blush. It was Tom that let out a piercing whistle to get everyone’s attention. His wife shot him a surprised look but the rest simply dropped their grumbling to a reasonable level.

“Sweetheart, Bruce showed us those messages before he left last night. That’s not frustration. They were threats and worse and you didn’t do anything to deserve them.”

“Can I see the messages?” Everyone seemed surprised by Chloe’s request.

“I don’t see how that could possibly be a good idea.” Bruce’s words pushed the girl back into her ‘holier than thou’ mode. Damian could practically see the superiority dripping from the girl.

“Because I know them and unlike Marinette I don’t have a romanticized view of those losers. I can tell what is out of character or not and tell you the likelihood of them acting on those threats because I’d be willing to be not all of the are idle. If I’ve learned anything about Rossi it’s that she’s capable of getting people to do things they wouldn’t otherwise. The only people she hasn’t managed to corrupt in some way are Marinette and myself. Adrien knows she’s a liar and she still somehow got into his head enough to make him think this is acceptable and that Mari is the problem.”

Marinette was frowning in thought while the boys tried to dissuade Chloe from wanting to look at the phone. Damian could tell they were just putting her back up more but didn’t see anyway to fix that so he just stayed silent.

“She’s right.” Everyone was silenced by Marinette’s soft words. She looked at Bruce and they could all see the pain in her eyes. “Chloe has both an inside and outside perspective of the situation that’s invaluable. I’m too close to the situation and you’re all too far away. Chloe’s the best bet we have to stop anyone from doing something foolish and making things worse.” 

Damian watched as his father contemplated her words. His brothers just looked at each other. He had a feeling they were trying to come up with another argument. Marinette’s parents were both oddly blank so he had no idea what could be going through their heads. Chloe was just staring at Marinette in shock. She obviously didn’t expect anyone to agree with her.

“Thank you.” The words were soft but the feeling behind them made Damian think they weren’t just meant for this one instant. 

“Tim, give her the phone.” Tim looked like he was going to argue but Bruce’s face made him think twice about it. “We can’t afford to leave resources on the table right now. If Marinette is willing to trust her then that should be good enough for the rest of us.” Tim gave an annoyed grunt but did hand over the phone.

Chloe made sure to angle herself so that Marinette couldn’t get a look at the screen, which Damian was grateful for, before unlocking it to look at the messages. The more she read the more shocked her expression became before turning sickly. He had a feeling she got to the one with the detailed suicide instructions. She handed the phone back to Tim looking a little queasy. 

“I’d say the immediate physical threats would come from Alya, Adrien, and Kim. The rest don’t seem likely to take action on their own, but it won’t stop them from ganging up on Mari or trying to intimidate her through texts and social media.”

“Why those three?” It sounded like a normal question but Damian could tell Tim was using it as a test. Chloe sighed and rubbed her temples.

“Kim used to think he was in love with me and despite my showing no interest and being a bitch actually thought he had a chance. Judging from the tone of his messages he’s transferred that infatuation to Lila and she’ll use it to her advantage in any way she can. The idea to go after Mari would come from her but it would be Kim that’s the most likely to act on it. Adrien…” She paused and looked to be holding back tears. Marinette put a comforting hand on her arm and she took a deep breath before continuing. “His messages are extremely possessive. It’s clear that he considers Mari his property and is not going to react well to her leaving or doing anything he hasn’t approved of. As for Alya, she’s the most volatile. She’s always been brash and jumped into things without thinking but with Lila there to stoke the fire and aim her negative feelings I’d say she’s the most likely to get akumatized and go after Mari beside’s Lila herself.”

Damian had to admit she made a good case and given the interaction last night with Adrien he knew she was right about at least one of them. Marinette was right, Chloe would be a good asset in this battle. Tim looked like he wanted to argue but Damian caught his eye and shook his head. None of them knew these kids well enough to contradict Chloe’s opinion.

“What do you think Angel?” Marinette started a little at his question before looking at Chloe. The two simple stared at each other for a minute before she gave a  small, tired sigh.

“I trust her judgement. I know she’s right about Adrien and as much as I don’t want to believe it of the others my judgement is compromised and I know Chloe’s head for politics makes her more observant and analytical than the average person. If that’s who she thinks is a threat then they are.”

He could tell how much it hurt her to say those words and admit that people she once considered friends were a threat. He wrapped an arm around her and she leaned into his shoulder thoroughly drained. The rest of the table was murmuring about precautions and threat levels but he just wanted to concentrate on his soulmate and offer what comfort he could. It was actually kind of peaceful. That didn’t last.

“Little M! I didn’t expect to see you here, how have you been?”

Master List 1   Master List 2    Prologue   Beginning   Previous    Next

Tag list for Broken Harmony

Thanks for all the positive responses! Here’s the tag list I’ve go so far. If I missed anyone let me know.

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