#see I knew if I came back to these prompts later they'd turn out alright

[whump-card]

Writing/drawing prompt! Whumpee tattoos Whumpee with various possessive or demeaning words, or just used Whumpee as practice. Thoughts?

Thoughts! THOUGHTS! So many thoughts!

But in the end, I had to make it about vampires, didn't I.

Whumpee waking up in whumper's shirt, looking in the mirror to find something awful...

Thank you very much for the prompt!

Art taglist: @angst-after-dark, @whumpsday, @flowersarefreetherapy, @rainydaywhump

[heavy-swing]

FFXIV Write 2024 - Prompt #18 - Hackneyed

Content Warnings: Mild content warning for an injured character, no details of injuries/gore is specified.

Spoiler Warnings: Spoilers through the Doma section of Stormblood.

Summary: After narrowly escaping the wrath of the Crown Prince of Garlemald for a second time, Aelita Tirasch decides that some things cannot go unsaid any longer.

Check it out below or on Ao3:

Under the cover of darkness, they'd all made it back to the House of the Fierce; some in better shape than others. 

Aelita pushed past Gosetsu and Alisaie, an unspoken truce in the air that any admonishments would wait until after the wounded were cared for, which included the shinobi laying limp in her arms.

She knew the way to Yugiri's room by heart, but she had to wait for one of the other resistance members to slide open the door before she could enter, given who she had in her hands. The pain and exhaustion brought on by carrying her for such a distance was starting to catch up to Aelita, but she willed it to the back of her mind. There will be time to rest later. Being here right now is most important. 

Aelita crossed over the threshold and slowly knelt down beside the simple bed that occupied most of the compact space. She had long thought about sharing that bed someday, and in this moment, she was simply thankful that she might still get that chance. She set Yugiri down on the mattress, as gently as she could manage, and gingerly slid the specially-shaped pillow underneath her head, slotting it in around her horns.

She began the process of removing Yugiri's armor, one buckle and strap at a time. Each piece was set aside in as neat a pile as she could manage, trying to keep the space clear so that any healers that arrived would have room to work.

As she pulled the armored gloves off, Aelita paused for a moment to hold Yugiri's hands in her own. They were cold as polished stone, but Aelita welcomed the sensation. It meant that even if she couldn't use magic or cure her ailments, she could at the very least offer Yugiri some of her warmth. 

“I…” Yugiri trailed off into a long pause, clearly still very fatigued. “I… failed…”

It wasn't long before a medic from their group had joined Aelita by Yugiri's side, methodically surveying the shinobi’s body for the wounds that needed urgent attention. He began focusing his magic into Yugiri’s body, the glow of the aether casting long shadows that stretched to the far side of the room. She sat beside him as he worked, nothing to offer in support except for hopes and prayers. It will be enough, she thought. It has to be.

Eventually, the medic slowed the flow of aether to a stop. “I’ve done all I can. Now she must rest.” He rose from the floor, offered a courteous bow to Aelita, and then walked through the still-open door, closing it behind himself.

Aelita didn’t move an inch from where she sat, resolved to stay until Yugiri woke or she could no longer stay awake. She heard the noise throughout the rest of the hideout slowly dissolve into silence as more and more of the other members of their group seemed to finish attending to their duties and retire for the night. And yet Aelita continued to sit in a perfect, watchful stillness, as if a lighthouse on the coastline guiding ships into port.

Eventually, a slight movement broke the silence. Yugiri turned her head just a little, managing to barely open her eyes.

“...A-Aya…?” The words came out so quietly that Aelita thought she might’ve been hallucinating; the exhaustion of the day catching up with her.

“I’m here, Yugiri. I’m right here.” The tears she’d fought off earlier were back in force; her emotions a mixture of relief at seeing Yugiri awake and anxiety knowing that they were still not out of the woods yet, so to speak.

“It’s alright. Our comrades were there to rescue us,” Aelita replied, trying to maintain a sense of gentle optimism. “We all made it. Now you need to rest, okay? It’s very important, love.”

“Yugiri–” Aelita cut in before stopping herself for a moment. “I don't want you to worry about fault or blame. At least, not for right now. There will be a time and place to offer apologies and reflect on what happened, but… for now you should rest.”

Yugiri closed her eyes and offered a barely perceptible nod before falling back asleep. Aelita reflexively let out a yawn, and as she did, made the snap decision that she would stay there tonight, even if it meant sleeping on a floor mat. She quickly removed her own armor, trying to remain as quiet as possible, balling up one of the undershirts and a pair of pants to use as a pillow. A spare blanket from the far side of the room completed her makeshift bed, and hardly even a minute had gone by before Aelita too was fast asleep.

—

Aelita woke up with an unfamiliar dull ache in her back. She nearly rolled over and went back to sleep before remembering why it was that she was sleeping here in the first place, which snapped her fully awake. A quick glance confirmed that Yugiri was still asleep, but the visible rise and fall of her chest was a great comfort to Aelita’s racing mind. With imminent danger past, Aelita began to replay the previous night’s events in her head, when she had a realization.

I accidentally called Yugiri ‘love’, and I was so tired I didn’t notice. Her face grew hot with embarrassment, and she quickly scrambled to un-ball her shirt-and-trousers pillow so she could make a quick escape without risking indecent exposure.

In her haste, however, it seemed she’d made a bit too much noise, and Yugiri’s eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the morning daylight. Aelita had made it about as far as getting her legs into her pants before she caught Yugiri’s glance and awkwardly knelt back down beside her bed.

“Aelita, I… I’m sorry,” Yugiri began, sounding better than the night before, but still a far cry from her usual self. 

Yugiri’s silence was an unspoken agreement.

“That said, I… I have something I want to say.” Aelita took a breath before continuing. “It's an old cliche, right? You never know what you have until it's gone. That kind of hackneyed thing your folks say to you that you brush off cause it sounds made up. But I… I felt that last night. When you didn't get up. As we ran, I couldn't help but fear I'd missed my chance to tell you something; perhaps the most important thing I could tell someone.” She swallowed, trying in vain to get the frog out of her throat. “I think I… I think I love you, Yugiri. And I think I always have. What scared me so much about what happened yesterday was hearing–” Aelita began to cry, sniffles cutting into her speech. “Was hearing you forge ahead with a plan to put yourself in harm's way for the sake of a better world. And that's a noble cause, so I can't fault you, I just… I want to share that better world with you.” Aelita took Yugiri's hands again, rubbing gentle circles in them with her thumbs. “I really care about you, and I wanted you to know, so that if you do have to make that choice again, there aren't any regrets, or– or things unsaid.”

A comfortable quiet fell between them as Yugiri tried to figure out how to reply.

Aelita gave Yugiri’s hands a gentle squeeze as tears streamed down her face. “It gladdens me to hear, but now that the urgent confessions are out of the way, you really should be resting.” Aelita slowly stood, stretching her back slightly as she did. “I’ll see if I can find you some food and drink for later, okay?” 

“It seems I have been a fool, then.” Yugiri sighed. “I'd set these feelings aside so long ago, almost hoping they'd fade, but… they never quite left me. I told myself I had other matters to attend to, that my people could not wait on account of something so trivial.” She slowly tilted her head to face Aelita and look her in the eye. “And that was a mistake. I should've been true to myself, and true to you. I do care. Perhaps too much, maybe, but I always have. Since those first days we met in Ul’dah, I've always felt better with you near.” She offered Aelita an apologetic smile. “I hope you can forgive me, Aelita, because I love you too.”

Yugiri nodded, content to try and recover before offering any more apologies, and Aelita walked to the door. She stopped and turned to give Yugiri a quick smile before continuing out into the hall.

We’ve both made it this far, she thought as she strode towards the kitchen. Now we can move forward. Together.

[auncyen]

The visions at the sacred flames had given them some idea that whatever awaited them in the midst of the Sundering Sea was bad news. Temenos connecting the island to scripture about the dark god being locked away only made it more ominous. Still, Partitio would bet they could stop whatever Oboro was planning.

They hadn't expected there to be one last flame, this one vile with Shadow energy. Hadn't expected Oboro to throw himself in, and for Vide, the dark god itself, to burst out, huge and terrifying, a cross between a pod and the upper half of an almost human skeleton. They'd gotten themselves in formation and been doing their best to withstand its vicious attacks while chipping away at it, but then there'd been a burst of dark energy and now--

Now Partitio was in darkness, and he knew from the way his bones were aching it wasn't a natural darkness. Worse than the darkness that had blanketed the world, this felt like it wanted to leech his soul away. He didn't plan on letting it, though, and Bifelgan must've been looking out for him; the only light he could see came from himself, a yellow, almost golden sheen--

No, wait. He wasn't the only light. He could seem a glimmer of bright orange in the distance, and a smaller dot of dazzling pink. He walked toward the bigger dot--at least, he thought he was walking, but in such a strange place with his body feeling so out of sorts, he wasn't quite sure. The dot got bigger and bigger though, and then he realized it was Agnea glowing like the star she was. The dazzling pink seemed to be closing in on her too, given it was getting bigger, and Partitio realized that it was Ochette under all that bright light, the tiny huntress running to them at full tilt.

He swept Agnea up in a hug as soon as he reached her, just so relieved he wasn't alone in the darkness, that she was also--as okay as could be in these circumstances. Only seconds later, Ochette's arms wrapped around his waist in a squeeze.

"I'm so glad you're both alright!" Agnea said, smiling with tears in her eyes. One tear leaked out when she winced. "Well...you're here...wherever here is."

"You guys don't know what Vide did either, do you?" Ochette asked. "I think Mahina managed to fly clear, but she sounded so worried..."

Partitio wished he could reassure the ladies but had to shake his head. "Haven't got a clue. That black energy just exploded and then--then it sucked us in." A thought occurred to him. "Hol' on, I couldn't do anything to resist it, and you were behind me. If Mahina could fly clear, it musta gotten weaker with distance. So Temenos and Osvald probably didn't get caught up in it. Maybe they can spring us free!"

Ochette perked up, her tail wagging in spite of the situation. "Yeah! Pops and Temenos are clever! Ma's with them too, and Néné I think, and..." Her tail slowed as something occurred to her, and she turned away from them, scanning the darkness.

Partitio had an awful feeling that wasn't just the darkness trying to consume him. "Hikari's...with them too, right Ochette?" Because Hikari sure didn't seem to be with them. The only lights around were theirs, mixing in between them to become an even brighter warm hue. If their gods were protecting them like Partitio thought, wouldn't Brand be protecting Hikari?

But Hikari had been near Partitio's side for most of the battle, a close range fighter just like him. While Throné seemed to have gotten lucky--maybe a thief's intuition had prompted her to pull back when Vide declared all would be theirs because, yep, in hindsight, that'd sure been a sign of bad news--had Hikari?

Ochette was shaking her head, still looking. "He was--he was in front of me. He tried to push me back from it." She cupped her hands over her mouth. "HIKARIIIIIIN!"

Agnea shouted too, even if she couldn't muster anything close to Ochette's volume. "Hikari! Hikari!"

"KARI!" Partitio bellowed.

The silence was choking. Partitio wanted to call out again, but the despair was strangling his throat, tears springing to his eyes. If Hikari had gotten caught up in Vide's attack too, why wasn't he here? What had happened to him?

"My apologies," Hikari's voice said, muted and exhausted but there, and Partitio scanned the darkness again, trying to figure out where he was, so relieved that it took Agnea jumping back for him to notice the shadow encroaching on their light.

He jerked back a step. Ochette flinched as well, but then she leaned forward, sniffing. "Hikarin...?"

The shadow drew back, disappearing into the rest of the darkness again. "Apologies. I should have come to you sooner, but I... I find myself weary. And..."

He seemed to lose the energy to even finish that thought, at least not before Agnea recovered from her shock. "Oh, goodness, Hikari, what's happened to you? Are you--are you hurt, what--" She took a few steps toward the shadow, her orange glow illuminating as much of its silhouette as could be seen with an ominous, smoky energy billowing out from it. She stretched a hand forward, but as soon as her hand reached into the wisps she gasped, faltering and forced to pull her hand back.

The shadow pulled back again, and Partitio stepped forward to make sure it--Hikari--stayed in sight. "'Kari, you gotta stay with us," he urged. "I'm sure the others are doin' everything they can to get us out of this mess. You gotta hold on."

Ochette nodded frantically. "It's going to be okay, Hikarin! So don't give in!"

"...You all have such bright spirits," Hikari's voice murmured. It sounded distorted from under the dark veil, all of Hikari's usual determination stolen away. "I wish I could be more like you. But even then, I fear that would not be enough."

"What d'you mean?" Partitio asked. He tried reaching out to Hikari himself, but the ache in his body, his very spirit, seemed to multiply the instant he got too close. Just like Agnea, he had to pull away.

"'The Eagle of Ku'. Kazan's plans always worked because he was so clear-sighted. And he could not find a reason for the world to see another dawn."

"He wasn't lookin' for one," Partitio said, taken aback. Hikari couldn't be saying the world should end, right? He hadn't thought that after the vision at the Sacred Flame near Ku, when they'd found out Kazan was part of this whole mess.

This really was Hikari, right? Not some trick?

"It didn't seem like Ori was looking for one, either, and yet she found one in you. I knew Kazan for years, and yet...I could not...guh..." The shadow shook, then shrank.

No, not shrinking. That was Hikari in there, on his knees from grief and hopelessness, and as Partitio was trying to figure out how he could help him, what could even be said, Ochette surged forward, tackling the shadow and groping until she seemed to find Hikari's neck to loop her arms around. She was whimpering, the energy hurting her too, but she held on determinedly.

"Ochette." Hikari's voice shook with surprise. "You should not..."

"You would be there for me if I was hurting!" Ochette cut him off. "So don't tell me not to! Ngh..."

If Ochette could do it, Partitio could do it too. Had to, because no way was he leaving Hikari alone in this despair. Agnea got down on her knees at the same time as Partitio, both of them using Ochette as a guide to figure out where Hikari was in that smothering darkness as they reached in. It burned the same as it had before, Partitio having to smother a grunt of pain, but Ochette and Agnea's light being close seemed to make it a little more bearable, and he wrapped his arms around both Hikari and Ochette tightly, feeling Agnea do the same from her side. He still couldn't see Hikari, only feel him, and the warrior was shaking like a dry leaf in the wind.

"Hikari," Agnea said. "I want to make everyone smile, but no one can force people to be happy. You can offer a smile and a helpin' hand, but if things don't work out, that doesn't mean it was your fault."

Partitio had been grounding his teeth against the pain, but he was determined to say something too. "Just 'cause he was smart doesn't mean he was thinkin' clearly. There are plenty of reasons to want to see another dawn. You're one of mine."

"And mine!" Agnea said.

"Mine too!" Ochette chipped in.

"We just need you to keep fightin' a little while longer, 'Kari. Even if you can't see a reason to right now. I promise there's a ton, and we'll help you find 'em."

"All of you are my reasons," Hikari said, and from underneath all the shadowy wisps, Partitio could see a glimmer of red. "I fear I will lose you, but..."

"You won't."

"I may. But I would lose you even sooner if I gave in now," Hikari said. Partitio's heart wrenched that even now he didn't seem hopeful. But the determination still seemed to be doing something, the red brightening, the darkness fading from him as he shone brighter. "My place is at your side, my friends. 'Til we bring back the dawn."

"We'll definitely do it!" Ochette said, her tail wagging in joy as the darkness left Hikari. "You an' me, Hikarin. Let's show that god and then have the biggest breakfast ever!"

Hikari's face was pale underneath the red glow, but he managed a small smile and laugh at Ochette's declaration...and then the darkness fell away, and they found themselves back at the summit of Vidania. With Vide looming over them they quickly broke out of their hug to stand, but there was still an overwhelming sense of relief. The others had managed to get them out of that awful darkness, and if that was the worst Vide could do, then the eight of them together would pull through.

[curse-04]

Written for @hinnyfest

Prompt 18: Sharing a Sweater

A/N: This is a sequel to my Prompt 4 submission. It was the one with the locker room submission.

-------

Harry and Ginny were talking in very hushed tones about something, and Fred knew that this was more… intense, at least as far as their secrets went.

After the War, it was like Harry and Ginny were inseparable. Everyone had been in their own heads for quite a while, but even still, they all noticed Harry and Ginny getting closer and closer, and no one was surprised when Harry started calling her his best friend.

Fred and George had both wondered if there was more than friendship going on there, but neither had asked, mostly because Harry and Ginny seemed to go on many trips, in different parts of the world, and they seemed quite content after they came back.

But now wasn't the time to think of that, they had a prank to pull after all. Their latest invention, the Secrecy Sweater, was about to be tested on none other than their own family, and Fred and George couldn't wait for their reactions.

Honestly, it was a brilliant piece of Magic, inspired by that of a Secrecy Sensor. It would detect who in a room- except for the one(s) who activated it- had the biggest secret. And it wouldn't come off until the Secret was revealed, or until the Sweater was otherwise destroyed.

They waited until the end of dinner to set it off, though. While their Mum was okay with their Joke Shop, pranking anyone at Dinner was huge 'No!'

As they'd expected, a white mist swirled around the Dinner Table, much to everyone's alarm. Bill, Harry, and Ginny had even drawn their Wands out, trying to make a way through it, to no avail. The Mist was a mere illusion. He suspected they were trying to avoid getting Poisoned if the mist wasn't.

The mist suddenly went for Harry and Ginny, and they were trapped in a Get Along Sweater that said, "Secret Keepers,"

"What the actual Fuck?" Harry asked.

"Fred and George Weasley!" Ginny snarled at the same time, surprising everyone into silence. For a second Fred almost pissed himself, but he felt proud that he kept it in.

"You've got a big Secret you aren't telling us," George said with a smirk, pointing at the T-shirt.

Fred sighed tragically. "Oh, look how secretive they've gotten, George," he said, shaking his head. "They were such innocent children once."

"Tragic, really," George agreed, wiping a tear from his cheek. "Our little sister-"

"How are we getting out of this?" Ginny asked. "Do we have to fight you in this and win somehow? Or do you take bribes?"

"You have to tell your secret," Fred explained. He was certain it would be that they were dating, but he'd wait and see.

"We were about to do that now, anyway," Harry said, glaring at him.

"Well, then by all means, go ahead," George said, smirking at him.

"Maybe we don't want to now," Ginny said, trying to cross her arms, but failing. "Ugh!"

"I could set it on Fiendfyre if you want," Harry told her seriously.

"Hmm…" she trailed off in thought. "Yeah, alright, burn it away."

"WHAT!?" A lot of their family members exclaimed. Using Fiendfyre in a closed space only led to disasters. It was taught in Fourth Year DADA classes. How did they miss that?

"It's only fair," Harry explained, shrugging. "They trapped us in this sweater, I'll burn it to get us out."

"Technically, you trapped yourself," Ron pointed out.

Harry raised an eyebrow at him, but Ginny just waved him off. "Eh, semantics," she said.

"You could just tell us…" Mum suggested helpfully.

Harry cocked his head and turned to Ginny, both of them seemingly having a silent conversation before they both let out a frustrated breath and nodded.

"Alright," Harry started.

"We're engaged," Ginny finished.

The effect was instantaneous, Fred's eyes almost popped out of his head, and George nearly spat his drink out. Mum and Dad smiled a few moments later, Ron, Hermione and Percy had their jaws on the floor, and the rest of them just seemed confused.

"But, but," some of them spluttered.

The sweater, however, didn't move.

"It's only a prototype," George explained nervously at their livid looks. "There's a good chance it might not work as intended."

"So, what do we do now?" Harry asked Ginny a while later.

"Well… since it's a prototype, I do think we should test out how durable it is," Ginny suggested with an impish smile, causing Harry to smirk.

"That's a great idea!" George exclaimed as Fred nodded at him.

"In private, of course," Harry said, smirking wider.

"Wait, what?" George said as Harry and Ginny quickly said a goodbye and ran off, promptly disapparating when they were beyond the Wards. "I swear I didn't know that's what they were talking about."

"Fred, George," Ron said with a sigh. "You're both idiots, you know that?"

[fictional-men-have-my-heart]

Day 27

Hello all! Welcome to day 27! One more day closer to the end of the month. Thank you for all the love on my posts so far even if they're just musings produced from my brainrot of the 141, Los Vaqueros, and Konig. I came across the prompt "Write about a time you were lost (figuratively or literally)." And I wanted to put my own spin on it. So, we look at how the 141, Los Vaqueros, and Konig may handle you getting lost with them when a mission goes awry.

Price:

The mission split your group, and you knew from the check-ins from the others they were safe, but alone.

You had been lucky to find the Captain quickly, stumbling across him in an alley where you nearly shot each other.

When he passed you a map and compass, you bit your lip.

"Sir, I haven't navigated in a while, maybe you ought to lead this."

"You'll be fine." He dismissed. You knew you were screwed.

After an hour of hiking through the backwoods, you broached it again.

"Sir, I think I've gotten us lost..." You all but force the map in his hands.

"Surely not... ah, well I'll be damned. I'll take it from here." He concedes, taking the lead with the map.

Ghost:

You could easily tell your Lt. wasn't happy at having to hike out of a mission gone wrong, let alone with you in tow. You had silently handed him the map at first, and he shoved it back into your hand.

"You nav, I'll keep an eye out for the others."

"Ghost, you really should-"

"Start moving kid, this isn't a discussion." You decide on a path you thought was moderate enough for you two given your mild injuries.

Too bad the map didn't account for damaged roads and washed-out bridges. When you came to a section you'd either have to wade through a knee-high creek or go back the way you'd come he turned to you.

"Where the fuck are we kid?" He growled, holding his hand out for the map. His glare was enough to make you hand it over and then quickly retreat from him.

Silence.

"I see. Look, how about you take over looking for signs of the others, I'll keep this..." He nods, eyes simmering down from the boil they'd been a moment ago.

"Yes sir."

Soap:

He hadn't taken you seriously. You realized this now.

"Soap, I barely passed navigation in basic and haven't tried since, now isn't the time to test it."

"Nonsense rookie, you'll be fine."

You were not. He seemed to recognize this too after an hour of walking.

"Hey, let me see that..."

A few minutes of searching later, he sighs heavily.

"You weren't kidding, were you rookie?"

Gaz:

Gaz seemed okay with the longer route home. He was reassuring you it was fine.

"Look, stop apologizing, alright? I should have listened to you."

"Still, after that horrid experience, I'm sure we'd both rather be at the safe house, not still walking around, I'm sorry."

"Well, I should have taken you seriously. We got into this together eh, let's get out of it together now." He'd smiled. You grinned back, nudging his shoulder as you walked.

"Thanks, Gaz."

"No problem, now let's go."

Alejandro:

The man seemed more concerned with putting distance between you guys and the currently imploding plan you'd been trying to make work.

"Sir, I really can't navigate too well, maybe you should-"

"Let's get out of here first. We can find our way back when we aren't being shot at."

It was about a half hour of briskly dodging any noises before he turned to you again.

"Okay, I think we're good, now... where the hell are we?"

"I don't really know, I tried to warn you, sir." He nods, looking around before digging in his pack for a map.

"We'll be alright, out this way I think we can cut a path through..."

Rudy:

Honestly, he was amused after you were both out of harm's way.

"How about we pretend this didn't happen?" He asked, passing you a canteen as you walked. It had been about 45 minutes since the last check-in, so you knew you two would be the last to arrive.

"Why? I think the massive delay in time will tell them we got lost."

"Nah, we'll tell them it was just a detour..."

"...Alejandro will never let you live it down, will he?" You'd grinned.

"...No, no he won't." He laughed. You shook your head.

"Lead the way home then, 'cause I sure as hell don't know it."

Konig:

The man's silence made you a little hesitant to ask him about the map you currently held. He hadn't raised any questions yet so far.

You two had ended up separated from the main group when an unexpected patrol came by in the midst of a recon op.

The goal was to be at a rendevous point by now, but it was dawning on you you had been walking in a path that was increasingly leading you away from the rendevous at about a 45 degree angle on the map.

"Um, Konig?" You'd murmured, halting where you were. He turned to you, staring.

"We need to alter our course. The rendevous is about a mile east..."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't realize, I'm sorry..."

"Let's just get going, they're likely waiting."

As you walked in your new direction, he spoke again.

"It happens to all of us, at least this is a calm time." You nodded.

The worst time I got lost anywhere was on a group trip to Yellowstone national park. Our group was split between two cars and we got separated after nightfall. At 18, that experience was absolutely terrifying. Almost hitting bison who were just chilling in the middle of the roads only made it worse.

TLDR, I do not recommend staying in Yellowstone past dark, shit gets scary fast.

Edit, posted after midnight, I'm sorry. Formatting is a bear sometimes.

[innytoes]

Oh heck yes inny prompts!

I am a simple woman with simple needs, so "let's get you out of these wet clothes" for Rulie please?

By the time he arrived at the Molina house, Reggie was soaked to the bone. Even his underwear was wet. He was both upset he hadn't worn his leather jacket, and relieved because he wasn't sure how the leather would respond to the rain.

"Oh my god, Reggie!" Julie said when she saw the state of him. Which was fair. He probably looked like a drowned rat. And that after he'd spent such a long time on his hair. "You're soaked! Did you bike here? The forecast said... well, never mind, stay here, I'll get you a towel."

They lived in LA, who the hell checked the forecast? He stood on Julie's porch, dripping and trying not to shiver, no doubt looking pathetic. So much for their date. It wasn't like he was trying to impress Julie or anything. They'd been dating for months and she already knew he was a dork, but he'd at least been aiming for... not shivering pathetically like a chihuahua at her front door.

Julie came back with a big fluffy towel, looping it over his head and rubbing his hair dry, pressing a kiss to his nose when he resurfaced between her towel-covered hands. “Come on,” she said. She called toward the family room: “Papi? Can you make your famous hot chocolate?”

Ray appeared a moment later. “I thought you were going... ah,” he said, at the sight of Reggie struggling out of his soaked shoes. “Alright, mija.”

“Hi Ray,” Reggie said miserably. “Sorry for dripping on your floor.”

Julie tugged him upstairs, telling him they could have a nice cozy evening in instead of going out.

“Let’s get you out of these wet clothes,” she said, grinning as she pushed the soggy flannel off his shoulder, her hands trailing over his biceps in his tank top. Reggie could feel himself going fire red, not just from the wind and rain, but from Julie’s touch.

Still, her dad was right downstairs, and he was not going to be able to get out of these soaking wet skinny jeans if Julie kept this up and made them... even tighter. So he quickly stepped back, taking his revenge by peeling off his tank top in what he hoped was a seductive manner. The way Julie was staring at him, he was pretty sure he succeeded.

Except then he stopped with his hands on his fly. “Um...” he said. “This isn’t exactly the way I pictured you seeing me in my underwear for the first time.” In his head, there had been like, candles. Maybe roses. Some sexy mood lighting and a super carefully curated playlist. Not him slowly dripping on the floor in Julie’s bedroom.

“Oh!” Julie said, flushing and turning around. “Right.” She moved to her closet, rummaging through until she found something that would probably fit Reggie. Bless Julie and her love of oversized clothing. She kept her head basically in the closet while he changed, whipping off his soggy underwear and slipping on the sweat pants as fast as possible. It was a little short at the ankles, but it fit around his waist. It had an embroidered butterfly on the knee. He loved it. He slipped on the big sweater, before looking down and realising it was her favourite, the yellow one with the smiley on it.

“Aw, Jules,” he said, stroking his hand over it. “Your favourite comfy sweater? You nearly killed Luke when he tried to borrow it.”

Julie carefully peeked over her shoulder, only looking slightly put out that he was already wearing the sweatshirt. “Yeah well, you have special boyfriend privileges,” she said. He beamed, wrapping her up in a hug. “How about we go downstairs and I’ll put your clothes in the dryer? We can grab dad’s hot chocolate and some snacks and watch a movie together.”

It wasn’t exactly the date they’d had planned, but to Reggie, it sounded amazing.

[mintjamsblog]

You’re so good! I always enjoy your insights into the ‘verse and how things were prior to us officially ‘meeting’ Tommy and Alfie in the story. Would you mind sharing any details about Tommy going into labor before ch. 1 picks up with in the hospital? How that all went down? ❤️

The thing is, Tommy didn't really believe he was in labour for the first few hours. It's true that he’d been restless for days, unable to get comfortable in any position (sitting made his hips sore, lying down made his back ache, deep breaths were out of the question because the baby was trying to grow up through his diaphragm). 

He'd resorted to working all over the house, papers and notepads and pens stationed in various rooms at various heights. He took phonecalls standing up, pacing back and forth the few meagre feet the blasted wire allowed. When he wasn't working, he'd shuffle about Arrow House, moving from room to room and window to window, staring out at the grounds until he could stand it no more and took himself outside to walk circuits of the grounds. 

Alfie never tried to stop him, but somehow, he’d always be at the front door at the very moment Tommy returned. 

“Ah, Thomas, there you are. Thought I’d take Cyril for a walk.”

Tommy would wait just long enough for Alfie to register Cyril’s panting breaths and the lead in Tommy’s hand.

“Right, well, looks like you beat me to it. Great minds and all that. You coming in, then?”

On another occassion it’d be, “Alright, treacle? Just nipping out to my car, weren’t I? Think I left my pocket-watch on the seat.” The fact that Alfie’s gold watch swung from its chain, securely attached to his waistcoat, went uncommented on by them both. 

As the weeks closed in on them, Alfie stopped going to London and grew almost as irritable as Tommy himself. "Sit the fuck down, for fuck's sake, you're giving me indigestion."

“You try sitting down when you’re constantly being kicked.” 

“Maybe that baby would kick a bit less if you let the poor thing have a rest.”

Such comments, inevitably, would prompt yet another walk.

They'd spoken about the birth, of course, Tommy having made his intentions clear in more than one heated discussion. He knew Alfie disagreed with his desire to give birth in the fields, preferably on his own, but it was quite by chance that he came to understand the depth of his mate's concerns. One evening, when searching for his glasses, he dislodged a pile of books on Alfie's bedside cabinet, causing several papers to untuck themselves from the jackets of various novels. He bent down to pick them up, noting the titles as he did so. There were articles from the BMJ, research papers, cuttings from specialist periodicals: 

In later weeks, his circuits got tighter and tighter, as if he was tied by a thread to the house itself and couldn’t stray further than a few hundred metres in any given direction.   

Paternal and neonatal mortality in the male Omega population.

Postpartum haemorrhage in the Omega male: a review of the literature.

Men Aren't Built for Pregnancy: a study of birth outcomes in male and female Omegas.

And, perhaps most alarming of all, 

When risks outweigh rights: the case for sterilisation in male Omega populations.

Tommy perched on the edge of the bed and skimmed each article in turn, before stuffing them back where he'd found them, more or less. When he looked up Alfie was leaning against the doorframe winding the chain of his pocket watch around one finger, and unwinding it, winding it back again, his eyes fixed firmly on his shoes.

“What is this, eh?” Tommy asked.

"Intelligence." Alfie’s voice was quiet, the single word inflected more as a question than an answer. 

“Intelligence.” Tommy nodded. Fucking sobering intelligence (not that he didn’t know the odds. But seeing them in black and white made them somewhat harder to ignore).

"You have your fucking intuition,” Alfie said, “your gypsy magic, or whatever. But I need to know what we're up against."

Tommy let his head rest in his hands, elbows digging into his thighs. His heart was pounding fast — dull thuds against his breastbone. "We can go to a hospital," he said. “If it makes you feel better, we can go.”

***

When Tommy felt the first dull cramps, he wasn’t overly bothered. Practice-contractions, probably; he had nearly two weeks left to go, so he did what he always did and walked himself out to the grounds. The squeezing sensations were so low and bearable that he didn’t believe it was time until he found himself leaning against a tree, blowing out slowly through his nose and waiting for the feeling to pass so he could continue back to the house. Every couple of minutes he had to stop and bend down to wait it out. It was fine. He wouldn’t describe it as pain, more an intense sort of squeeze, as if someone were tightening a belt under his stomach and then releasing that belt a few notches. Still, his journey back to the front of the house took far longer than expected.

Sure enough, there was Alfie on the gravelled drive, a few hundred feet away.  There was no random excuse this time, just a deep frown as Tommy veered off to the right to brace himself against the wall of the house. He pressed his forehead against the red bricks and squeezed his teeth together. 

"Frances!" Alfie bellowed.

Footsteps approached across the gravel. Tommy caught his breath and did his best to straighten up. He pulled his cap down low and took a few steps fowards, hoping to make it to the front steps and sit down for a moment.  Alfie was cursing now, his footsteps crunching faster; Tommy did his best to look normal, even managed a slight wave before the belt cinched around him once more. This time the notch was a tighter and he needed the wall for support, but when he put his arm out to reach for it he’d steered too far away; Alfie ran the last few steps and caught up in time to take its place. Tommy lent into him, buried his head against Alfie’s shoulder and gripped harder than he meant to. 

There were other voices now, but they sounded far away. He ought to say something himself, to reassure Alfie that all was okay, but the outside world was fast becoming a foreign land with a different language. He felt himself slipping inward, detaching from anything that wasn’t within three inches of his body. 

There was metal against his forehead . . . the door of the car . . . urgent voices . . . Alfie speaking so calmly, then yelling in fury at someone and speaking calmly again. Tommy wanted to curl up very small, to go back to the tent in the field, but he knew that field was too far away, he’d never make it now. 

[masterwords]

Under Wraps

Summary: In the hospital after Foyet, Emily and Derek take care of Hotch in very different ways.

Warnings: dressing change/wound mention, pretty tame

Pairings: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 2k

Notes: Prompt 3 - A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond from 50 Types of Kisses.

Read on AO3: Under Wraps

**

Two surgeries. One an emergency simply to stop the bleeding and save the life, the next exploratory to really get a handle on the damage done. They'd all seen him at his worst, and it hadn't gotten much better since though they tried to pretend otherwise for his sake. There were so many technicalities being thrown at her, Emily couldn't keep up and she didn't even try. “What do I need to do?” she barked, because that she could handle. The doctor forced a small smile and sighed.

“Just be here for your friend, and do not give him any reason to get excited. His heart...” She tuned out again, couldn't hear another time about how his heart couldn't handle stress, about how detrimental even the slightest raise in his heart rate or blood pressure could be at this juncture. Instead, she nodded, she understood...whatever it was, she understood. Quiet, one person at a time, no work. She wasn't worried about that last part yet, he was so out of it that he couldn't focus long enough to ask the questions that plagued him and no one would offer. In a few days, when they began weaning him from the morphine and forcing him to regain some of his ability to function on his own, to be upright, then they would have to fight him. What little optimism she had left hung on the thread that she would know what to do when that time came, and that his heart would be well enough to handle whatever fight they would have to put up.

He hadn't been awake for longer than five minutes at a time since that first morning, at least not that they could tell. Maybe he was asleep, maybe he was just lying there with his eyes closed shutting them out, not much difference. A slight jump in his pulse, a ragged breath or two when the pain broke through the morphine haze, but otherwise just quiet. Penelope would knit, JJ would sit and text with Will or sort through case files discreetly. Dave would read aloud, he wouldn't pretend Aaron was asleep when he knew damn well he wasn't, so he spoke softly and often. Emily and Derek took the longer shifts, the harder times of day when he was forced to be awake and he was grouchy and combative. They sat through the dressing changes and the questions, they chose what to filter out to the rest of the team and what to keep under wraps.

“I know you don't want to be here,” she would growl at him as she held his hand tight through another dressing change. He didn't have the strength to squeeze hers so she squeezed his instead, pulled his focus to the grinding of his bones in her grip while the nurses stripped the sticky gauze away from weeping wounds. He tried to get away from her, jaw clenched tight and eyes turned away when he realized his fight was useless. She was too strong, she could overpower him without even trying. “Unless you want to die of a very preventable infection, let them do their job.” It would be Derek's turn to have that same conversation later, but he would cry with Derek and Derek would no doubt soften up, brush the sweat-matted hair back from his forehead and tell him it was going to be alright, it would be over soon, because what else could he say? He said those things because he believed them, she didn't say them for the same reason.

Emily would boss the hospital staff around on his behalf, and he didn't mind that part. He was cold, the sheets were whisper thin and stiff, the blankets felt sharp against his icy skin and he shivered in bed. She hated to see him shiver, it was the final indignity. “He needs more blankets,” she would tell them, over and over, and while she was met with promises to bring more soon they were always empty. The hospital was busy, the rooms were packed and she knew the staff were stretched to their limits but she also knew that her friend needed a damn blanket. Pushed to her limit, she snooped around until she found a supply closet and rifled through until she struck gold. An entire stack of terrible thin pink blankets ready for the taking.

“Miss you can't be in here,” the nurse said, tapping her on the shoulder and she huffed before explaining that she'd asked for blankets no less than three times to no avail, if they were too busy to do it she would do it herself.

“How long should he have to wait to be comfortable?” She heard it too, she knew a blanket wasn't going to fix it, her oversimplification and her insistence that a blanket would solve any problems opened up evidence of how very scared she was in those first days. Pursing her lips, she frowned, tried to find some semblance of calm again.

“I apologize for the delay, but you should know he isn't cold because of the blankets...” It shut her up, the reality of it. He'd lost a lot of blood, his body was still in shock, he was going to shiver whether he was covered in blankets or not, that was just how it would be for a while. Still, she made sure that Derek planned to bring one of his big heavy ones with him when he came to sit for the evening shift. “A really good one,” she demanded, because she couldn't control a single other thing but she could control the damn blankets and Derek understood plainly.

He came through, carrying with him a backpack and an arm full of blankets and pillows, like he was planning to move into the place, not just sit overnight. They briefly chatted outside the room, just in case he was more lucid than he let on, about how the afternoon shift had gone. Rule of the room, no one talked about Aaron in front of him, even if they thought he was fast asleep.

“No word on Foyet?” she asked, and Derek shrugged.

“Nothing. Anything here?”

“All quiet.”

That was it, the changing of the guard and Derek moved in quietly while she took her leave without a word. They didn't say goodbyes, lessons learned the first night when the weight of what he'd been through had caused some tremendous feelings of abandonment to bubble to the surface. He didn't seem to notice as much this way if he didn't have to say the words or acknowledge the change, if he didn't have to make the connection, it would just be a surprise...go to sleep with one person there, wake up to a new face, an endless round of musical chairs.

He settled himself in with his own blanket and pillow, dragging the two chairs together until they faced one another as quietly as possible. With a book in hand he kicked his socked feet up on the chair before him, shoes now tucked beneath him. Ready for sleep, he'd come without his contacts, and his glasses instantly began slipping eagerly down the bridge of his nose. He'd really intended to get some reading in but more often than not he found himself dozing off mid-page, words swimming and converging into one huddled mass and he would have to begin the page over again. Finally, he let the book drop to his chest and his head fell forward, chin tucked and eyes closed. The soft beeping of the machines was music to his ears, no alarms, no panic, just a gentle and constant reminder that Aaron's heart was beating, that he was breathing.

Aaron watched out of the corner of his eye, blurry and soft around the edges without his contacts in but he knew who it was, he could smell his soap, his cologne, his detergent, all of the varied scents that made up Derek. In his sleepy haze he marveled at the way the one light in the corner flickered in the reflection of his glasses, blazed a path across the room with each inhale that brought his head up just enough to catch it over and over again. He smiled, or at least he thought he did, it was hard to tell. He felt like smiling. Licking his lips, wetting the dry skin, he prepared himself to try and speak, to try and grab Derek's attention but his lungs were full of cinders and his mouth was made of parchment. Instead of words, he let out a hoarse cough, a dusty dry sound that woke Derek with a start, book slipping from his chest to the floor.

“Aaron?” he whispered, voice low enough that Aaron could pretend to still be sleeping if he wanted but he didn't want. He moved his hand, slid it over the tangle of cords and coarse pink blankets and as if on cue, Derek stood and pressed his warm palm over the top, squeezing the cold fingers. “Can I get you something?” he asked, and when he saw the way Aaron tried to form words around a scouring pad tongue, he grabbed the water and set the straw to his lips, waited for him to get just enough to wet his mouth.

“Thanks,” he whispered and it was the sound of wind rustling through dead leaves. Derek offered more but he shook his head, he knew better...not yet, his stomach wasn't ready and they'd both found that out the hard way the night before. He was being hydrated through an IV, he didn't need to drink the water, not yet. They didn't need any incidents, he was simply hoping for a nice quiet night. He set the cup back down and fussed over the blankets, asked if he was cold and decided to do some rearranging. His legs were bare against the cold sheet, yellow grippy socks hugging his feet in the hope that they'd let him get up and move around in the morning but Derek didn't like the idea that his first layer of comfort was something the hospital provided. Another reminder of how very wrong all of this was, but one he could control. Aaron was very particular about his bed, and that they expected him to relax under these conditions was more than a little unreasonable. He spread the blanket from home over him first, nestled it beneath cords and tucked it up as gently as he could before piling the hospital sheets and blankets on top.

“Go back to sleep,” Derek said softly, nudging his misbehaving glasses back up his nose and backing away toward his chair.

“Kiss me,” Aaron whispered, it was breathy and pale, far too fragile but it was him, it sounded like him this time and Derek felt his heart leap up into his throat. How could he say no? He leaned forward, one hand braced on the railing of the bed, the other caressing Aaron's cheek with the backs of his fingers until coming to rest warm against the back of his neck and it was then that he kissed him. Gentle at first, eyes open so he didn't miss a flinch, afraid he might be too rough. But still he kissed, warm soft lips brushing tenderly, timid and when Aaron pressed back just a little harder, almost too eager for a touch that made him feel like himself again, that reminded him that he hadn't lost every single good thing...he let his eyes drift shut, felt his glasses slide down until they hit Aaron's nose and he smiled against the other man's chapped lips.

“Sorry,” he mumbled into another kiss, and another, so desperate for this moment that he didn't know when to end it, when to back away. It was only when he heard the breath hitch in Aaron's chest, when he could feel the wave of pain prickle his skin and muscles tighten beneath his touch that he backed away, just far enough to ease him through it. Counted breaths, one slip of his thumb against a jaw set frigid with pain, simple reminders that he could pull through it whatever it was, wherever it hurt. Slowly his muscles relaxed and his eyes slipped shut, weary and fearful it would happen again. He didn't let go of Derek's hand.

“Try to get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up.”

One more kiss. Just one more, and then he'd sleep.

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

We Met Within This Screen (chapt. 4)

[Donnie x fem reader]

sfw, chapt. 3, pt. 4 here

Sighing, you set your phone face-down after sending your last text to Bo. What an abrupt end to something that had been so good. You were confused, a little taken aback and honestly sad. You'd thought the two of you were getting along well. Bo was smart, well-spoken, funny, and all around, a really nice person. He listened to your venting and seemed like he had a response to everything. Always, he had some random fact to hit you with whether it was about biology, chemistry, astronomy, language—you weren't sure where he got all his knowledge from. He'd never mentioned school, if he went. He didn't mention a lot about himself, actually. 

People come and go, someone had once told you. You guessed that he was one of those passersby, as much as you wanted it to be more. 

More?

When had you started thinking that? More what? 

You were tempted to pick your phone back up, to check and see if there were any new messages. Not that you could expect much; Bo had been so curt about his exit from your friendship that it was left at his last text, "Again, I'm sorry." You wanted to say something, but what was there to say? It was his decision. A sudden, uncharacteristic, and frankly odd decision, but still, his. Thinking back on it, you tried to remember any instance you might have crossed a line, or maybe said something you shouldn't have. That's what made you open up the messages again, scrolling up and up and looking for anything weird, but finding nothing of the sort. It had all been normal up until when you texted him about the clamor you'd heard outside your apartment building. And then it went flat—he didn't even respond to it, just said his apology and his goodbye before going offline.

You wanted to take your mind off it with a game, but as you looked through your list and saw the one you and him had played together, you knew it was near ruined for you. It just wasn't the same to play alone or with your acquaintances. An otherwise boring game made fun by one particular person, but now it was barely what it used to be.

Unfortunate. 

The next morning might have felt more normal if it weren't for the fact that everyone was pretending like it was. For the sake of secrecy from their father. As far as Donnie knew, Splinter still didn't know anything was or had been going on, and he intended to keep it that way, too. He wanted to tell his father, he did, but all he saw coming of that was reprimanding, or at the very least an awkward discussion, and possibly, time in the Hashi. He was already feeling the aftermath of his actions; he didn't need any more. Especially as he checked the messaging app one last time, only to find it empty, aside from her goodbye. 

Donnie stood at the kitchen counter, mask off and groggy as usual, scrounging for something to eat. Maybe a cup of coffee (if they had any), which he was looking for when Mikey bounced in. Normally, his brothers would avoid him when he was in one of his "moods". He hadn't a passionate temper like Raph but a slow-brewing one, the kind that festers until it's alleviated or boils over. Cold quiet was his thing. 

But Donnie knew why he was here. So did Mikey. He had that familiar glint of mischief in his eye. 

There was no coffee, so he settled for some kind of pastry they'd found while looking through the dumpsters. Really, the item was fine—only the packaging and appearance was defective. It was a wonder just how much food grocers wasted over arbitrary reasons, but regardless, he was happy to oblige his secret sweet tooth. 

From the corner of his eye he could see Mikey waiting eagerly for him to turn around and regard him. To listen to whatever he was about to talk his ear off with. Their youngest brother was more often than not bright-eyed in the morning, something Donnie's morning fog could not always entertain. He picked at his food at the counter for a moment, mind wandering back to his night and subsequently,  the unresolved feelings. Dreadfully unresolved, he groaned inside. And they probably would continue to be, as after sleeping on what had happened the previous night, thinking about her, he realized something that made his face flush. Oh, no. 

He froze in his place, suddenly very awake. He looked over his shoulder and found Mikey was distracted rummaging through the food for his own breakfast, and with a faint cringe, tried to sneak out of the kitchen undetected. No way would he admit to Mikey's words on the rooftop that night, the ones that made him flinch with embarrassment. The same ones that bounced around his head despite all attempts to stuff it down. "You like her, bro." 

Things involving him could never be simple, could they?

Abandoning his plate, Donnie began tip-toeing out of the room right behind Mikey. His foot hit the leg of a chair and caused a creak—he winced. As he thought, Mikey looked back, "Why are you sneaking around? You didn't finish your breakfast. Can't go on patrol on an empty stomach, dude." 

Before Donnie could even answer, he continued in a whisper, "Plus—"

"Whatever it is, Mikey, not now," he cut his brother off, "last night was the end of it, alright? You need to let it go." It sounded harsher than he would have preferred, but he felt the need to drill it into Mikey's skull that it was over, that it was just something he'd have to deal with. There were a lot of things they dealt with despite not liking it. With time, he'd forget—more accurately, be able to ignore— and maybe he could find the same enjoyment in his brothers once again. That sort of friendship.  But at the moment, it was ruined for him—he got a taste of something more and it was taken away what felt like second later. 

Mikey's face fell. Donnie couldn't stand that, seeing him upset over something he'd said. He had a bit of a soft spot for their youngest, no doubt. Just wasn't always obvious. 

"Aren't you afraid you'll regret it?" he asked, voice soft. 

Fear was a strong word, but of course Donnie was anxious. It was the thing holding him back from being able to simply compartmentalize everything, to put it in a box and on the metaphorical "deal with this later because it's uncomfortable right now" shelf. Or to deal with it at all, as ignoring his problems with studying and unrelated research and experimentation wasn't exactly prime management. He knew that. 

After a while of thought, Donnie was able to give him an answer. "Well…I mean, how could I not be?" he inquired in return before leaning out of the doorway to scan the lair. Everyone was either in their room, the dojo, or there, in the kitchen. Mikey has always made him feel most comfortable, and he was sure that was the case for the other three, just that they had other ways of showing it. He was certainly easy to talk to; if Donnie weren't so careful of his mouth and what came out of it, he could probably spew way more to him than he liked. Mikey could come through sometimes, though, which prompted him to keep going, "It was a big thing for me. We've been disconnected from everything else for so long that it was just...exciting, to get a look into what it's like. Being 'regular', you know?" 

Mikey sat down on one of the bar stools, feet idly shuffling against the floor as he folded his arms and rested on them. "You didn't hear it from me, but I'm a little jealous," he said playfully, but Donnie was aware that it was the case. "Maybe I'm pushing you to go after her because I'm trying to live vic–vicrous–v–…" 

Donnie smiled, he couldn't help it. "'Vicariously'?" he suggested. 

"Yeah! That," Mikey beamed, nodding. "You get what I mean." 

"I understand." 

The conversation died off soon after as Donnie decided to get breakfast over with and do whatever needed to be done before they left for patrol that night, darkness falling earlier due to the upcoming winter. It wasn't too cold for them to be out yet, though, so that still meant a chilly patrol in the Autumn breeze. He hated the cold. 

As Donnie was making himself busy at a circuit board in his lab, he heard the beads in the doorway shift, and to his surprise, Splinter came shuffling in. 

"Sensei?" 

He put down his soldering iron, spinning around in his chair. "Something the matter?" 

Splinter ran his fingers along a shelf on the wall as he wandered by, careful to not disturb any of the items lining it. Beakers, recently-repaired electronic parts, projects put on pause, things that would loathe to be broken. 

"There is always something," Splinter replied enigmatically, "I would not be here if that weren't true. Would you agree?"

 I'm compromised!

Donnie had a strong but hidden dislike for vague speaking, even if he did it himself sometimes. When spoken to you it's much more bothersome. 

Splinter waited for his answer, looking at him expectantly. "Donatello?" 

"Yeah, um…yes, I would—I would agree. I suppose. So...what is it again?" Damn his stutter, he couldn't get away with anything, hardly. He was only able to stifle it just enough. 

Picking a random pipette on the desk next to Donnie, Splinter studied the green liquid close for a second before his nose twitched, and he put it back down. "You have been very busy lately, it seems. What is it that you work on all day in here? Or are you playing games?" 

Donnie's heart thumped. His hand found that particular spot on his neck and began to scratch, and Splinter looked at him dead in the eye. He should have known; there was no hiding anything from their father, he was too good. Stupidly, infuriatingly perceptive. Donnie caught himself scratching that spot and slid his hand away, he hadn't even noticed he was picking at it again. He knows, Mikey told him, I probably look like a guilty idiot right now, I'm—

"I haven't been playing games," Donnie blurted out. 

Quizzically, Splinter gestured at the computer screen on the other wall, which had the menu of the game he'd opened up just earlier. Reminiscing over it even though it had been only a couple of days since he and his friend had last played together, but he stared at the screen as if it had been years. It made him realize how easily he'd gotten attached to that. Well, to her. He was on the fence about whether he wanted to try playing again or not and left it on.

Oh, you have to be kidding. I'm a fool in a man's shoes. 

Donnie laughed uncomfortably, "You caught me, Sensei," he said, "I guess I have been playing games more often lately." 

It was honest enough, right? 

Splinter hummed and cupped his hands behind his back. "I see."

Straightening out, Donnie dipped his head a little. "I'll...lay off on them. Sorry for lying. I've just been really distracted recently." 

"Liars never prosper, my son. Take care of yourself." 

He then left. 

So he didn't know. Donnie still couldn't say it with any degree of confidence, because Splinter would trip them up here and there, but it was assurance enough to know that if Splinter was aware of what had gone on between the four brothers and his new—rather, former—human friend, he would have confronted Donnie about it. Or all of them, considering it was now a secret they were all in on actively hiding. And on top of that, Raph and Leo didn't know Mikey was conspiring. Layers and layers, he sighed. 

With Splinter gone, he let out a breath of relief. Too close. Much. But, swiftly evaded. A chuckle left him, not of humor, but more because he was actually feeling a little confident. Just a little. They were really hiding something from Splinter; it was reason enough to pat himself on the back, nothing got past Splinter. Except for him.

Briefly, he thought of Mikey's outlandish idea as he spun back around in his chair. "Mikey, you are crazy," he mumbled to himself as he took his soldering iron, resuming his work from before. "But..."

Chapter 5

[fadedflame]

Carols and Circuits Day 12

Detroit: Become Human Prompt Challenge from @connor-sent-by-cyberlife

Summery: Hank’s confrontation with Connor on the rooftop ended badly. Certain the fall had killed him, the last thing he was expecting was the kid to show up on his doorstep a year later. Traumatized and falling apart at the seams, Hank doesn’t know if there's anything he can really do to help the android. But he sure as hell is going to try.

Day twelve - Hot Beverage

Words-1418

< Previous Chapter / Next Chapter >

Ao3 or

It was the type of evening that was perfect for staying in.

Hank hadn’t worked, so it had been a wonderfully lazy day of sleeping in and watching tv. Now, the sun was setting, casting long golden beams across the room and lighting the house with a soft golden glow.

Hank stretched across the couch, cracking his back in several places. He was a bit stiff, but it was from lounging all day rather than from stressful work, so he wasn’t about to complain.

Connor seemed to be enjoying himself as well.

He had seated himself on the floor by Sumo and was pleasantly stroking the dog's fur. Hank had picked up a cheap pair of knit gloves from the gas station on his way home from the precinct the day before. They were shit for warmth, but perfect for Connor's sensory issues.

They were also, at this point, completely covered in Sumo's fur.

Neither of them seemed to mind.

Hank leaned back, grabbing his coffee off the end table to take a sip. He had a feeling that Connor might not need the gloves if he got the repairs he obviously needed. They were basically serving the same purpose his skin should. But that was a conversation for another day. He didn't want to spoil the mood.

He took another drink of his coffee and a different thought came to him. "Hey, Connor?"

The android looked up, a content smile on his face. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

That was another thing they'd need to work on, but oh well. "I know you don't eat or anything," he observed. "But can you?"

Connor gave Sumo another pat on the head before standing up. “Not really, no,” he told him. “I have no ability to ingest solids.”

“What about liquids?” Hank asked, swirling the coffee in his cup.

He considered the question for a moment, looking pensive as he joined Hank on the couch. “I suppose, in theory, I could. My analysis software is designed mostly for liquid samples. I should have the capacity to accommodate for it.”

There was an unmistakable spark of interest in Connor’s expression. “Wanna give it a try?” Hank inquired, already pretty sure he knew the answer.

“It’s an intriguing prospect,” he stated. “Yes, I believe I would.”

He smiled at the android, offering him his mug with an encouraging look. “Just don’t stick your fingers in it, alright.”

Connor nodded and took it eagerly, promptly taking a sip from the mug. Almost instantly, his face scrunched into utter disgust, as though the coffee had personally insulted his tongue. “You actually drink this?” he said in disbelief. “Willingly?”

“Sorry,” Hank said, though it probably didn’t sound sincere through his laughter at the android’s reaction. “I probably shouldn’t have started you out with black coffee. It’s kinda an acquired taste.”

Connor handed the mug back to him, rubbing at his mouth as though to rid himself of the flavor. He didn’t flinch when his gloved fingers brushed Hank’s hand in the exchange. “I don’t see why you would want to acquire a taste like that.”

“You should be happy,” Hank told him, before taking a long drink. He almost choked on it when Connor gave him a thoroughly disgusted look. “It’s healthier this way.”

“I doubt there could be any health benefits that would possibly be able to warrant that.”

Hank rolled his eyes then downed the rest of his coffee. “It’s not that bad,” he protested before getting up. “Come on, let’s try something else.”

Connor stayed where he was, apparently not thrilled by the endeavor. “If it’s all the same, Lieutenant. I think I’m content to not try anything else.”

Well shit, he didn’t mean to turn the kid off of the idea so quickly. “This’ll be better, I promise,” he insisted, pulling the milk from the fridge. Usually he’d be lazy and just make it with water, but he wanted Connor to like it. He could go a little fancy.

Connor followed him to the kitchen finally, watching what he was doing from over his shoulder. “Hot chocolate?” he observed as he pulled the mix from the cupboard.

“Yeah,” Hank confirmed. “I think you’ll like it.” He put the mug of milk into the microwave to heat before looking for the rest of the ingredients he would need. He knew he didn’t have any whip cream on hand, but he was pretty sure he had a bag of marshmallows around somewhere.

The kid followed behind him as he searched, curious even if he wasn’t excited to try something new. In hindsight, Hank could have just asked him where they were. He’d reorganized the damn place just the other day after all. But, he was stubborn, and it had become a matter of personal pride.

Hank found the marshmallows just seconds after the microwave beeped.

He made short work of ushering Connor to take a seat at the table and mixing the chocolate powder into the milk. He set the steaming mug in front of the android before dramatically topping it with a small handful of marshmallows.

Connor eyed the beverage suspiciously.

He glanced up to Hank, who nodded at him to give it a try before slowly and cautiously picking up the mug. He held it as though he expected it to bite him.

His skepticism melted to delight before Hank’s eyes as soon as the liquid touched his lips. “Like it?” he asked, pleased with himself.

“I do,” Connor said, his surprised tone letting him know that he hadn’t expected to. He took another, larger sip.

“Why am I not surprised you have a sweet tooth,” Hank chuckled.

“I have thirty two teeth, Lieutenant,” he responded, confused. “None of them are specifically designed to be associated with sugars.”

“It’s an expression,” he sighed out as he moved to put the milk back into the fridge. Honestly, he didn’t know if Connor was fucking with him or not. “Just drink your damn cocoa.”

Connor gave him an impish smile that raised the likelihood of placing the comment in the ‘fucking with him’ category before taking another sip.

The LED on the side of the kid’s head caught his attention just then as it broke it’s rhythm to sputter blue for a moment. Hank didn’t mean to stare, it was probably rude or something, but the change in color surprised him. He watched it a few seconds longer, hoping it would do it again.

Instead, Connor noticed his line of sight. His hand moved to his temple, covering the light protectively.

“Sorry,” Hank said immediately, looking away. The last thing he wanted was to make the kid uncomfortable.

“I tried to remove it.”

His voice was quiet, hesitant. But Hank’s attention snapped back to the android as soon as he spoke. Connor never volunteered information about himself, there was no way in hell he would discourage it now. “What?” he prompted him to continue.

“You were wondering what happened to my LED, weren't you,” he stated. “I tried to remove it. Evidently, mine wasn’t designed to come out. It…” his hand moved from the LED to hover briefly over his sightless eye. “My attempt resulted in some damage.”

“Is it fixable?” Hank asked. He tried not to focus on how badly the kid must have wanted the thing gone to have mutilated himself trying to get rid of it.

Connor shook his head. “Not with the resources available to me.”

“Does it hurt?” It sure as hell looked like it did.

He shrugged with his good shoulder and took another sip of the hot chocolate. “A little, but it’s not unbearable. I believe androids have a different concept of pain.”

That was fair, he guessed. “You think you might want to get it checked out?” he offered. “Not to be a dick, but you look like shit.”

“I…” he sat back in the chair, tucking his gloved hands beneath the table. He stared at the mug before him as though it would tell him what to say. “If it’s alright, I would rather not discuss this now.”

“Yeah, ok,” he agreed, not wanting to push him. That would only lead to the kid shutting him out and he couldn’t have that. “I’m just… fuck, I worry about you, alright? I want to help.”

Connor’s answering smile was soft and genuine. He moved his hands back to the table to cradle the warm mug. “You are helping, Hank,” he said. The LED blinked blue once again.

[boxofbadaddiction]

Those Three Little Words

Fred Weasley x Reader

This story is inspired from a request of my F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List.

Prompts: 10 & 11

"Until I was 25, I thought the only response to 'I love you' was 'Oh, crap!'"/"Ah, Humour based on my pain. Aha-ha-ha."

Warnings: Swearing (per usual). Anxiety. Toxic Family. Emotional Trauma(?). Angsty. Post-War.

The War had been a sick wakeup call for Fred. He'd lived his life carefree and reckless, as he figured each day were a given. Mess up today it didn't matter because there was always tomorrow. He would strut through life as if he were invincible because, well, he always seemed that way. But death has a funny way of reshuffling ones priorities. A way of shedding light on what truly matters in your life.

Fred never considered himself as someone who lacked ambition. Frankly George and he never seemed to let anything hold them back. However, these days Fred could very well give Slytherins a run for their money - something George frequently teased him about. If there were something he wanted Merlin himself couldn't get in his way.

Not only in the case of work but his personal life as well. In love. And there was only one woman on Earth he loved. [Y/N].

He knew he loved her before the war. Before Umbridge drove him from Hogwarts in their final year. Before she left him.

It was only shortly prior, the boys epic departure, that [Y/N] had made the decision to call it quits. She knew their lives were destined to pull them in opposite directions and she never put much stock in long distance relationships. So, with a final kiss and a wish good luck, she walked out of his life. Albeit not completely.

After graduation she kept loosely in touch with the Twins, they had been friends after all, even visiting their shop on the off occasion when she could swing it. Although she was often far too busy to stay for long. Eventually she was relocated overseas for work, this officially terminating any of the limited contact had between the three.

The next time they would be in each others presence was the ill-fated battle.

[Y/N] had been keeping tabs on the events leading up to the fight. Even engaging in missions on behalf of the Order when necessary. She had proved quite a valuable asset. In the days before all Hell broke loose [Y/N] returned to Britian on 'urgent family matters' and of course she fought.

When Fred saw her again after so many years the rush of feelings that coursed through his body were nearly enough to knock him off balance. She was still so gorgeous. The [E/C] of her eyes reminding him just how deeply he loved her. Just how much he needed her. And he knew. Just knew she felt the same.

He saw it in the little things she did for him. Saw it in the tears of her eyes. In the way she broke down in his Hospital room when he finally woke, a fortnight, after his accident. Heard it in the tremble of her voice. In her 'I thought I lost you's. In the way she clung to him. He was so relieved she was okay and so happy to finally have her back in his life. Until suddenly...she wasn't anymore.

Recovery was Freds life now, but that wasn't hers. She was still needed elsewhere and as much as he wished she would stay he knew she couldn't. She still had a life left living. It were a miracle she managed to stay as long as she had. So...she left. And he wouldn't see her again for years. Six. To be exact.

Recovery had taken years from Fred. It was two and a half years before he could consider himself independent. After all that time wasted he wasn't about to let anything stand in his way. So when news carried to his ears that [Y/N] was back living in London, permanently, that after six years he could see her again, there was nothing holding him back.

In a second he'd apparated to her doorstep. Knocking on the withered wood door. Listening to the faint patter of approaching footsteps. Hearing the gentle click of the locks tumblers as they turned. Watching the steady swing of the door as it opened. Feeling the prick of burning tears behind his eyes as he stared back into her questioning gaze. Pulling her body into his as their lips collided. Relishing in the warmth that spread through his blood as she kissed back. Clung back. Loved him back. Everything he poured into her she gave right back. He swore right in that moment that he'd never let her go again. They'd wasted so much time already.

Over a year later the two could not have been deeper in love. She'd moved into the boys flat mere months after he appeared at her door. It's what Fred wanted, and Fred always gets what he wants.

Fred and Georges business had picked up quite quickly after the war. Fred insisted George begin work on the restorations while he recovered. Saying he wanted everything back in full swing by the time he was upright, to pick right back where he left off. George was sure he simply didn't fancy cleaning it himself and saw recovery as a pretty convenient excuse. Fred didn't deny his brothers claim.

They'd managed to open a second store in Hogsmead and were currently renovating the original store. Expanding the flat and lower levels. This saw the three residents temporarily relocating to the Burrow for a few days as the work was completed. Molly had insisted, saying the house were 'far too quiet' for her liking. Which was hard to believe as Ron and Hermione and Ginny and Harry all currently lived there. Of course Bill and Fleur, as well as Percy had all moved out ages ago, and Charlie was back living in Romania. Still, it beats paying accommodation elsewhere. And they couldn't deny that spending time back in their childhood home was enjoyable. It felt warm and safe and familiar, like the war had never happened and they were all just spending time together as a family.

As dinner approached on their third day home [Y/N] and Harry could be found helping prepare tonights meal, under the careful instruction of Mrs Weasley, while the rest sat comfortably within the sitting room fondly reminiscing their times spent together just like they were now.

The group were laughing haughtily at a certain memory George had recalled in which [Y/N] turned Rons entire bedroom hot pink with the Twins 'Everlasting Dye', after he thought it'd be funny to turn her hair a similar shade. Much like [Y/N]'s hair the dye hadn't faded for well over a fortnight as the Twins found the whole thing all too funny and refused them the instant remover.

"God, I love her." Fred smiled brightly at the memory, "I'm going to marry that woman." He stated matter-of-factly.

"Sure she likes you that much?" Ginny quipped.

"Certain, dear Sister." Ginny simply nodded a look of uncertainty on her face. "What's that look for?" "Nothing." "Ginny." "well it's just...she doesn't really say it much does she?" "'Course she does. What are you on about?" "I just don't think I've ever actually heard her say she loves you before." "It's not like you're 'round us 24/7 now is it?" Fred scoffed, shaking off his sisters comment.

George meanwhile was staring towards the ceiling, brows furrowed as he contemplated Ginnys words deeply before letting out a low "hmmp" as realisation struck.

"Oh, what now?" Fred rolled his attention toward his Twin. "Nothing it's just I can't think of a time I've heard her say it either." Ginny had a look of 'I told you so' blatantly obvious on her face while Ron and Hermione thought hard on the topic as well. Freds gaze shifted quickly between his gathered family.

"Oh, so what if you've never heard it. Point is I have. And I know she loves me so it doesn't matter. But if you all must! Here," he leant back in his chair calling into the kitchen "Hey, [Y/N/N]!" "Yeah, Freddie?" She walked toward him with a loving smile. "I love you" [Y/N]'s smile faded instantly as she raised a suspicious brow, "What'd you do?" "What!?" Fred asked shocked as the eavesdroppers giggled. "No. Nothing, really! I just wanted to tell you I love you." "Oh...well I know that" she smiled, kissing him softly. Fred gave her an expectant look as she stood back. "...what?" "you love me too, yeah?" "Of course I do." There was a determination behind her words. Almost as if she were insulted by his question, to which the answer were painstakingly obvious. She soothingly ran a hand through his hair, "I've got to get back in there and help your Mother before Harry burns everything." She joked, placing a final quick kiss to his lips. He watched her leave a giddy smile on his face before turning back to his nosey family.

"See. Told you." He laid back in his seat confidently. The group all shared tight lipped, awkward, smiles. "Oh, what?!" "It's just she didn't really say it, did she?" George spoke. "Yeah she did. I asked her and she said 'yes'. End of conversation." "But she didn't actually say the words; 'I love you'." Ginnys voice intervened. "She doesn't have to." "Shouldn't it be sort of automatic?" "Like you and Harry say it every time." He rolled his eyes. "Pretty much" Ginny nodded, earning an unconvinced scoff from her brother. "Here, watch."

Ginny mirrored Freds earlier movements, calling to the kitchen, "Hey, Harry!" "Yeah, Gin?" Harry came to his fiancès call. She smiled up at him sweetly, "I love you". Harry looked around the group a little uncomfortable and unsure but smiled nonetheless. "I love you too" he placed a quick kiss to her temple. "Right, that's all I wanted you can go now." Ginny turned back in her chair as Harry walked away very confused.

"Automatic." She gestured widely with her hands, a triumphant look on her face. "Oh piss off." Fred scowled. "Doesn't matter if she 'says the words' or not. I know she loves me. Doesn't bother me." "Good for you, Freddie." Ron spoke encouragingly. "So you're on my side?" "Absolutely!" "It wouldn't bother you if Hermione never-" "oh GOD no! She has to say the words. I need the reassurance." He looked up to his girlfriend, who in turn lovingly took his hand in hers.

"Alright. So it's a little strange. But I bet I can have her saying it before we leave." "In four days?" George questioned, sceptical. "Yep. I'll make her." "How romantic. With charm like that it's a wonder why she hasn't said it already." His Twin chuckled. "Why don't you just talk to her about it? Maybe there's a reason." Hermione piped. "Nah. My ways better." Fred shook his head, tapping his knees lightly as he thought.

And so began, what Fred would soon discover to be, the most difficult challenge he'd ever attempted.

It started out simply enough; with a few added 'I love you's here and there. Whether the moment called for it or not. Although after the war Fred had become notably more vocal in expressing his love towards family and friends, he kicked it up a notch in an attempt to coax those very words from the mouth of his partner. Quickly escalating to more grand and romantic gestures.

The first was a ridiculously large bouquet of vividly yellow roses. Moving onto a private picnic for two atop the Hill which rested behind the Burrow. At sunset he had dragged [Y/N] from the home to where he laid a blanket and candles, with soft music playing in the background, as well as having organised a platter of all their favourite foods. Ending the meal rather...intimately. During which he was sure to further praise her and whisper sweet, loving words in her ear. Telling her just how much he loved her.

His constant showering of affection had granted him plenty of appreciation in return. His words always being met with the usual "I do too"s and "Me too"s even a couple "Dittos" they always had, though he was yet to receive any "I love you"s. Which hadn't bothered him before, but now was proving to be mildly infuriating and very disheartening, really.

Failure wasn't something Fred was used to anymore. To think he was unable to get his long term partner to say those three little words was quickly making him uncomfortable.

By the fourth and final morning, since setting himself this little challenge, Fred was spent. He was sure he'd tried everything. Grand gestures. Romantic dates. Surprise kisses. Great sex. He had even seriously considered proposing, as a last resort. But these were not the circumstances in which he wanted to do so under, when he did he wanted it to be perfect. Maybe the Imperius - NO! no. Too drastic.

Why was nothing working? Suddenly Ginnys amusing quip wasn't so funny anymore and struck a vein far too close to home. Was it possible he was wrong and she simply didn't feel the same way?

All manner of sickeningly worrisome thoughts began to flood through his mind as he lay awake. He starred at the woman he loved so fiercely, so passionately, he could swear she were the only reason his heart kept bleeding.

He watched her as she slept peacefully, tucked tight against his chest, whilst he absent-mindedly stroked her hair, contemplating a reality which he much rather never come true. One in which she didn't love him.

He used to be so sure but now...now he was terrified. He'd never thought much on what form his Boggart would assume if he ever were to face one. He knew in this moment though that is exactly what shape it would take. Her.

She'd approach him slowly. An evil grin and amused brow raised upon her features. She'd tell him what a fool he was. How stupid he was to ever think a woman like her could love a boy like him. That she only stayed with him out of pity. How humiliated and desperate he seemed that day on her doorstep. How it would have been better if he had just given up, never fought to survive after the explosion. How much better it'd have been if he just died in War. She could have found real love, lived a happy life away from the embarrassing one she led with him in it.

Tears burned red in the whites of his eyes as his chest shuddered with every quickened and panicking breath he took. His heart thundering in his ears as the room began to spin. He was suffocating. Sweat streamed down his temples. He had to get out. Escape.

Sliding as quickly and carefully as he could from beneath the covers without disturbing the sleeping woman in his bed, he took for the shower. Praying the steam would unfog his mind. That the water would wash away his doubts and anxiety.

The whole time he tried to rationalise why [Y/N] wouldn't say the words. Reassuring himself that it didn't matter. Shouldn't matter. He left the bathroom long after the water had run cold feeling only moderately better than when he'd entered. At least now he had a modicum of control over his body. His emotions on the other hand...

He slowly descended the steps of his childhood home, face emotionless, to the sound of light chatter and clinking of various dishes. Everyone was already gathered around the table eating breakfast.

"Ah, there you are!" George announced as Fred entered the kitchen, "clean now are we? Thought you'd must have drowned in there." He joked. Fred offered a light chuckle and forced smile as he sat himself between his Twin and partner. "What's this the wake then?"

[Y/N] leant into his side, placing a kiss to his cheek as her hand traced circles on his lower back. "Morning, Hun" she murmured tenderly, chin resting against his shoulder as she peered up at him. He didn't look at her, simply humming in response. His hand briefly came to squeeze her thigh before quickly retracting. This did little to evoke a sense of ease within his significant other.

Over the eighteen months they'd shared together [Y/N] had long since become accustomed to his dramatic morning greetings. Usually, as they'd wake up together, it'd involve him peppering her face and neck in countless kisses before joining George for breakfast. On days when they'd wake to find themselves alone under the covers, the other having obviously awoke long ago, he'd surprise her. Lifting her off her feet and spinning her through the air then, placing her back down, kissing her deeply.

The only times she'd seen him like this were nights when his dreams had been plagued with flashbacks from the Battle. She assumed he'd slept peacefully. He hadn't had any nightmares in months and would usually, unintentionally, wake her during them. "You okay, Freddie?" "Yeah."

Totally convincing.

The rest of the day Fred was cold. To everyone but [Y/N] especially. He was having difficulty even looking at her. She'd tried talking with him but he insisted there was nothing the matter. Didn't keep her from worrying.

After dinner everyone moved into the lounge, engaging in various bits of conversation. Everyone aside from Fred. No one was sure when he'd disappeared but his absence was noted nonetheless. [Y/N] was the one to search for him. Found standing within the garden over looking the sunset.

She could see the discontent held in his body, the way he stood so rigid. The hollow expression on his features, completely devoid of any emotion. It hurt her seeing him this way.

"Hey, You." She spoke hesitantly. Fred turned at the sound of her voice. Watching her standing tentatively before him as if unsure whether or not her presence was welcome. "Hey, You" he smiled sadly back, his frame visibly relaxing at the sight of her. "We're all missing you in there. What are you doing out here all by your lonesome?" [Y/N] said softly as she approached him, arms snaking around his waist. His hands fell to her lower back and pulled her into his body ever more so. "Just needed a bit of quiet to think" "'Think', huh?" He hummed in response. "That's never good" she grinned making him laugh lightly. "No, it isn't." He placed a slow kiss to her lips.

Breaking it shortly after as he teased, "So, you missed me?" "Every second you're not by my side I do." He rested his forehead against hers, their eyes falling shut contently. Fred exhaled comfortably,"I love you" "I do too" [Y/N] replied. "What love you?" Fred straightened himself with a cheeky expression on his face which was mirrored on that of his partners. "Stop it." "I'm serious." "You know what I mean" "Do I?".

[Y/N] had another quip ready on the tip of her tongue until noticing that cheery look he held had vanished and they were no longer standing in one anothers embrace. Her face dropped at the sight if a completely serious Fred Weasley stood in front of her. Awaiting the answer to a question she didn't fully understand. "Whats gotten into you?" She took a step toward him, to which, he took one back. "Do you love me?" "Of course I do!" "Then why don't you say it?" "I don't know what you're -" "you never say it." "I just did." "No, you agreed to a question I asked." "It's the same thing." "It's not."

The two were practically talking on top of one another. "Just...say it." He took a step towards her, to which, she took one back. "If I say it now it'll be forced and it may as well not mean anything." "Why can't you just say it!?" He snapped, more asking himself the question than her. But he needed to ask. He wasn't yelling at her but a part of [Y/N] wished he would. "I know you love me. Or at least I thought I did. I just...I need to hear you say it because sometimes I can't help but wonder - please just. Say it." Staring into her eye's pleadingly, hers stared right back in apology. "Fred..." "Forget it." He turned from her. "Fred, baby" her hand reached for his shoulder as his own ran through his hair in frustration whilst his jaw clenched. "I can't. I can't be near you right now." He shook his head, storming off towards the Hill. Ignoring her frantic, begging calls.

[Y/N] stood rooted to the spot from shock. This was one of the first fights the pair had had, and she wasn't even sure what brought it on. There'd been minor squabbles between them out of stress from work or other things but never something like this. They had such an open relationship it never got to this point, any concerns either held was always voiced and discussed. Why was this time different?

As she watched his figure slowly disappear amongst the dark as night was soon to fall, she made her decision. This time wasn't going to be different. They were going to talk about it whether he cared to or not. Even if that meant her admitting somethings she'd very much hoped never have to. So, she set off after him.

Fred stood with his back against the trunk of an old tree which grew tall on top the Hill. One hand in his pocket as the other ran his fingers over the markings carved into it's wood by the Weasley family. One engraving in particular. A relatively fresh one where he had carved [Y/N]s name next to his own last Christmas to "officially" mark her as apart of the family.

He recalled the moment vividly. How she questioned his actions, wondering if he'll still love her the same 'down the road', not to regret this decision. "Nah, you're right. I won't love you the same. I'll love you more." He'd said. "But the real question is; will you love me, or are you just going to break my heart?" To be honest. He truly hadn't expected the latter.

He was drawn from his thoughts by the approaching sound of footsteps. Turning his head he rolled his eyes upon realising it was her. "Not now." He growled. "Yes now." She shot back at him standing firm in place.

She'd planned a whole monologue on the walk to him but now that she was here, eyes meeting his, she hadn't a damn clue what to say.

"Until I was 25, I thought the only response to 'I love you' was 'oh, crap!'" She blurted out. Fred looked at her quizzically as the words settled in the air. [Y/N]'s eyes shut for a moment, kicking herself. That wasn't how she intended for the conversation to go. "I'm-I can't say the words" she began again to which Fred scoffed. "Yeah. I gathered that much." "Fred, just shut the fuck up, and listen to me!" Her stare shot daggers into the boy and he found his attention unwavering from her words.

"I didn't have a normal upbringing. I didn't get what you have. I came from a family where love was a weapon. A tool for manipulation. Something that was withheld until you were useful. Something used to excuse shitty behaviour. I didn't get the warm Christmases and intimacy you got. Before you I wasn't sure I knew what love was. My whole life had been cold. Then when you showed up at my door that day it was like hot blood began pumping through my body for the first time. You felt like life when my whole existence has been death. That's when I knew I couldn't live without you. When I knew that I...I can't say it. The words. But not just to you, I can't say them to anyone. It feels unnatural like there's a rope tied around my throat and it suffocates me. And it kills me a little bit. To look into your eyes and know that I - that I still can't - may never ... fuck. I-" [Y/N]s hand came to cover her eyes as tears fell and heartbroken sobs escaped her body.

Fred reacted on instinct, by her side in a second, pulling her into his chest. A hand gripped her back as the other fisted into her hair. "I'm sorry" she cried as he soothed her.

Fred was fighting sobs of his own, feeling as her body shudder against his and she clung to him for support. Because if she didn't her knees would buckle and she'd fall.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I-I had no idea this was...look at me." He held her shoulders taking half a step back to look at her. "I don't care if you never say the words." "But then why-" "I listened to the opinions of four prats who had no business sticking their noses in our relationship." [Y/N] chuckled sadly, wiping tears from her cheeks. "Before they said anything I honestly hadn't noticed because I knew, I know you love me. You don't have to tell me because you show me. It's in your kiss. In your eyes. Your laugh. Your nostrils as they flare when you yell at me after successfully pissing you off. Never be sorry. I shouldn't have gotten so worked up over nothing. Okay?" [Y/N] nodded in response, unable to form a sentence. Smiling sweetly his hand came to caress below her jaw."I love you." "Now you're just rubbing it in." Fred laughed, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her lips.

He's pulling away before [Y/N]s pulling him back by the collar of his shirt for a deep and passionate one. Soon breaking in dire need for air.

Her chest is heaving as she catches her breath. His eyes fall shut, pressing his head against hers gently. [Y/N]s eyes are searching his face. Why can't she just tell him? The words, those three stupid little words, are right there tearing at her throat. Wanting to be said. This is real. He is not her parents, not her toxic 'family'. He's Fred. Sweet, caring Fred. Her one and only. He's different.

She swallows hard, mouth going dry, as that familiar tightening takes hold. Trying desperately to rid herself of that strangling sensation that plagues her a trillion times a day. She's staring at him, panic coursing through her bloodstream. Her eyes clench shut as she tries to muster as much strength as she can. "I-" the words are right there. Her voice barely a whisper as she fights that rope. "I love you." [Y/N] gasps for air as a knot in the rope snaps. Eyes widening as her chest shudders before she's smiling. Fresh tears falling in relief and joy.

Fred's eyes spring open, gawking. Did she just...is he-did he imagine that? No. There's no way. "You...you-" "I love you." Her voice louder this time, more assured as a second knot snaps. He doesn't know how to react. Body and mind still processing.

Soon though he's grinning like a madman, spinning her in his arms, feeling happier than he thought possible. Placing her back on the ground both hands cup her face as his lips crash into hers.

They stay like that for a while, in one anothers arms. [Y/N]s kissing him tenderly as she pulls back to whisper the words once more, "I love you." He smiles cockily down at her before his expression shifts to one of mock surprise. "Oh, crap!" he laughs as [Y/N] rolls her eyes. "Ah, Humour based on my pain. Aha-ha-ha. You're such a bastard." She turns to walk off but he grabs her arm. Spinning her back against his chest as his other hand comes to the nape of her neck.

"Not so fast, Princess." He licks his lips smirking, voice low "say it again." She bites her lip suppressing a wide smile. "I love you." He places one final kiss before a wicked grin spreads over his face and he's quickly throwing her over his shoulder.

"Come on, love!" He starts running for the Burrow. "FRED!" [Y/N] squeals. "No time to waste! I told them I'd have to saying it before we leave." "You...oh my god, FRED! Did you place a bet on me!? You absolute GIT!"

"Love you too, sweetheart."

[80s-roger]

Flirty & Insistent

Pairing: 70s!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

note: female reader's ethnicity will not affect the person who reads it. She's just greek and she already has a name but the POV will be in second person.

also, i won’t post smuts/series as often as i did until next month, due to uni’s exams period. but i’ll reblog and stuff, u kno. I’ll work in the meanwhile your requests xx love you all 

ps i worked hard on this one, i hope you like it as much as i did. feedback will be massively appreciated.

requested by anonymous:

"Plss write something smutty about roger being a massive flirt and being soo cheeky the reader(after trying acting indifferent and unimpressed) eventually gives in to the temptation of letting him have his way with her?? 💕💕 "

masterlist // dialogue prompts

summary: you left your country a decade ago to study in the UK and after graduating you established in Mallorca, Spain to work as a mixologist. That summer night, you're working for a party arranged by Queen's management to celebrate their "A Day At The Races" era success. The blonde drummer notices you fixing drinks with confidence and doesn't lose the chance to flirt with you. He's just trying too hard because you play it uninterested until he has his way with you.

word count: 3,933

warnings: surface sex, slow burn (becauase they were talking a lot before, idk if it really is a slow burn tho)

A huge party was taking place in Mallorca, with the famous rock band Queen being the main guests of the event. You were one of the bartenders so all you had to do that night was fixing drinks for every person until they'd be shitfaced. The preparations were ready: the event was hosted at the beachside, opposite the calm waves and the golden sand. The sunset was magical to stare at, ready to welcome the bright moon. You had a moment to appreciate it before guests would come at any moment. It was the only thing that reminded you of your ex without feeling angsty about it; you gotta admit you didn't break up with good terms. It was toxic, yet heartbreaking. You loved that man but he left after cheating on you. It's been half a year and you needed to give yourself a break from dating and making out regardless of how social your job is and how much flirt you've received.

The guests arrived, minute by minute they'd get from fifty to hundred. Many people were coming to your counter to order drinks and cocktails. Beautiful women and attractive men would try to flirt with you but turned them down politely saying while you're working you can't do otherwise so they respected it. All these people were actually invited by Queen, their management and the entire record company. They were all celebrating Queen's "A Day At The Races" success and certainly the band which were yet to be seen until midnight.

You were working your ass for a couple of hours now until the band showed up. You could tell by the huge welcoming. The applause, the cheers and definitely women cajoling over them. Here they were standing in the centre of attention, thanking everyone for supporting them and buying their records. Their music was playing at the stereo and you couldn't prevent yourself from jamming to their songs.

When their speech was over, everyone was free to do what they wanted so your bar counter was full again with people chatting and drinking. You saw the entire fucking band coming to your place, obviously for an order. You tried to stay calm because hands-off, you liked their music and fangirled a lot when you saw them live last year in London with your boyfriend.

"Hello beautiful, can I have some Moet & Chandon, please? I really need to celebrate!" Freddie spoke first, carrying a wide smile on his face.

"Sure." You kindly accepted his offer.

"I'd like the same with Freddie." Brian interrupted when you moved behind to grab the expensive bottle and open it.

"So do I." John added and you nodded to grab three glasses, for now.

"And you?" You turned your gaze to the blonde handsome drummer who was already checking you out, focusing especially on your face.

"What do you suggest?" He asked with his eyes being totally flirty.

"Ah, darling, just give us the bottle. Roger is kind of undecided when it comes to drinks." Freddie felt the weird vibe growing between Roger and you. John and Brian giggled, looking whether at Roger or you.

"Eh, our waiter will do it for you. Just sit at your table and he'll take care of you." You kindly warned and he laughed.

"Oh, alright then love. We'll wait for our bottle." He laughed and left with his bandmates, leaving Roger and you alone.

"So? What do you suggest?" Roger turned his gaze back at your eyes.

"What do you feel like drinking? Something sweet, strong, alcohol-free?" You asked trying to help him but he was certainly not trying to find what to drink. He was clearly trying to flirt with you.

"Something to keep me up all night, I guess. But don't make me feel dizzy." He put on a crooked smile and hell, he was attractive as fuck. He knew how to play.

"Right, how does a mojito sound?" You recommended.

"Sounds nice and local." He smiled and you turned around to grab the ingredients. "Are you local? 'Cause your accent doesn't sound British to me." He asked, trying to start a conversation.

"Eh no, I am from the Mediterranean area though." You laughed after turning again to him.

"Italian?" He guessed.

"Greek." You answered.

"Oh, I've been to Greece twice." He started.

"Really? When?" You turned your gaze surprised. You had no idea he has come to Greece for holidays.

"Two years ago I was with my ex-girlfriend, in Santorini. The sunset there is amazing. And the next year I went with John and Brian to Crete. We needed a dose of some Mycenaean civilisation. Thankfully we weren't noticed by fans or anyone else. We were clearly there for tourism." He explained. You were impressed he's seen your country, visited two of the many islands your country has.

"Well, we had some political issues when you guys came to Greece. We were recovering from the junta and had some important historical issues by the end of 1974 so I doubt they'd run behind you, no offence." You laughed while fixing his drink.

"Oh, that's bad. But I understand. How come you're here in Mallorca being a bartender?" He asked and leaned closer to you. There was a nice conversation going on.

"Before junta ruled my country, I was sent to England to study because my parents thought I would be privileged. Now you see me in Mallorca because I work here and besides, I wanted to live somewhere that reminds me of Greece. Studying abroad has the privilege of learning a new culture, a new way of life and so on. Which is so wrong for the locals back home." You explained and cut a slice of lemon before having it ready for him.

"Wait, by saying it's wrong, you mean that..." his brain stopped working for a second trying to understand what you meant.

"Patriarchy is the keyword. They want women to get married at 18 and start a family. But obviously, women have to stay home." You were triggered at your words and internally thanked your parents for giving you the chance to go abroad.

"Cheers to your parents then. I wouldn't get the chance to meet you tonight." He was impressed by your short storytime. "How do I say bottoms up in Greek?" He laughed after you placed him his drink.

"It's pronounced áspro páto." You smiled after saying a Greek word. It must have been a year since you last spoke Greek. You haven't visited Greece for a long time. You found yourself in Mallorca. It's spiritually free and not restricting.

"So, I haven't asked you yet. What's your name?" Roger asked after drinking. He made an oddly satisfying grimace which meant he liked your drink.

"Oh, it's Ellen." You answered. His gaze was literally focused on you the entire time. He wouldn't give up this easy.

"So Ellen, make yourself a drink. It's a treat for you." He offered and you kindly accepted. It's not bad, you've been offered many times. Besides, you needed a drink to stay energised.

"Thank you, Mr Taylor." You thanked him and then his smile vanished.

"If you want us to be in good terms, it's gonna be Roger." His hand was warning you.

"Thank you, Roger." You slightly smiled. "It's just that..." you stopped and checked around if your boss is nearby. "We are obliged to speak to our guests in plural." You whispered and he nodded. Possibly understood the situation.

"So what are you doing later?" He asked after swallowing a sip of his mojito.

"We're cleaning the mess and we're heading homes." You said after drinking a shot. A treated drink.

"I'm not talking about your colleagues. I'm talking about you." He was straightforward. He was so into you, it was obvious.

"Oh well, I'll clean up the mess and I'm heading home." You changed the point of view trying to cut off his flirty attitude.

"When's that time? Dawn?" He guessed.

"Probably at the morning. It's a Queen party, I doubt people will leave before the sun rises." You rolled your eyes sarcastically.

"So..." he started. "Have you been listening to our music?" He asked.

"Yes, since your first album. It was brilliant for a newly formed band." You said with a huge smile on your face and he appreciated it. He appreciated that you didn't fangirl in front of him, having that humble and uninterested attitude. He liked feeling like a predator trying to catch his bait.

"What's your favourite song of A Day At The Races?" He asked. He likes talking to people about his music.

"Definitely Somebody To Love." You affirmed, feeling passionate about your answer, that it seemed you could relate your existence to this song.

"Oh, it's a band's fave too. Well, you relate to this song, don't you?" He asked and his body was closer to yours. The counter was the only thing beside you.

"I guess I do." You looked down for a moment, thinking of your ex but his hand touched your jaw trying to lift you up. Your eyes were looking into his and this is how you noticed how blue they eventually are. An ocean.

"Is it about a guy? I'm sure he doesn't deserve you." He tried to cheer you up with his soft smile.

"It's not that. It's..." you sighed. "Well, this is getting too personal." You pulled back trying to stop the situation. But he wouldn't abandon his try.

"Do you have any specific lyric of the song you relate the most?" He asked.

"Yes, there is that one: I've spent all my years in believing you but I just can't get no relief, Lord." You kind of explained the situation within a couple of lyrics. "He cheated on me. He had the audacity of saying it to my face and left without looking back or apologising." You nearly tore but tried to keep it for yourself. This is getting too personal and you're opening your heart to a stranger that you feel comfortable with. Maybe because you've been listening to him and his bandmates for years and you've seen him live too.

"You know..." he looked down for a second trying to find the words. "At least he was honest. He could keep you for his entertainment if things didn't work with the girl he possibly slept with." He tried to wake you, but he was right.

"I don't even know how long he was cheating on me. However, I did notice a weird behaviour in the last couple of months we were together." You answered.

"Be happy that you're not with him anymore. He took your love for granted. This is not how it works." He said with his eyes still focused on yours.

"You know, we once saw you live. Last year." You tried to avoid talking about your ex the entire time.

"Oh! That's great! Did I look nice?" He joked and he gained a laugh from you. That made him feel nice.

"Definitely, you always look nice." You took a moment to check him out. And hell, he looks and smells so nice.

"I'm flattered." He smiled and you pulled back again to do your job. You could see your boss staring at you. That wasn't good.

"You better get going, my boss is supervising us." You said and he got the hint. You were as cold as you could be.

"Sure, will I see you later?" He asked and stood up from his chair, ready to leave.

"No. I'll be too tired by then." You answered and he was saddened by your reply. He thought he had you. His flirting wasn't sufficient. Which means he had to try again.

He left and walked to his bandmates, they were there talking about their success until Roger joined their conversation but it changed as soon as he sat on the sofa next to Brian.

"So, how did it go Rog?" Freddie asked and they were all ready to hear.

"She seems so uninterested and hard to get, I have to try again." He took out one of his cigarettes, ready to smoke and think.

"Ah, your type of girls Roger." Brian laughed. "You like feeling a hunter don't you?" He added.

"Of course I do. But she recently broke up and I reckon she's still into him. How do women's brains work anyway?" He asked, frustrated.

"Oh darling, I don't see her as stuck with her ex as you think she is. She's been avoiding your flirting because she works here." Freddie had a point and John nodded.

"Just wait for her shift to end and make a move. She noticed you were flirting with her." John suggested and they all agreed to it.

"It's gonna take hours. She said it's possible for the party to end after dawn. She also has to clean up with her colleagues." Roger explained and turned his gaze back to you. But you were already looking at him and when you noticed, you turned back to your counter.

"Fine, then do it now," Freddie advised and Roger looked at you considered. "Wait where's she going?" Freddie asked after noticing your figure leaving your position.

"James, would you mind taking my place for a moment? I really need to use the bathroom." You called for your colleague who politely came to your counter.

"Sure, go ahead. I'll be here as long as you need." He smiled and you left for the bathroom to take a very needed pee.

"Shall I go after her?" Roger asked.

"Fucking go!" Freddie pushed Roger to run after you no matter how awkward it would be.

You walked in the staff-only bathroom, rushing to the toilet. After drinking a few shots, you needed to pee like a champion. When you pushed the flusher you unlocked your door and the very first thing you saw, was Roger standing at the wall.

"What the hell are you doing here, get out!" You were shocked by his presence and he wouldn't move.

"This is the only chance I have with you right now. Your boss can't see us." He came closer to you.

"No, but he'll get suspicious!" You tried to pull back until you reached the counter. Now you were sandwiched between Roger and the counter. There was no space between you. His face was coming closer to yours.

"I locked the door in any case." His nose tickled yours and his hands placed you on top of the counter, sitting now and having his bulge, against your area. That feeling is the shit.

"I work here, I can't..." you tried to refuse but the feeling of getting fucked couldn't stop you.

"I can't be in this toilet too, but here I am." His lips touched yours with passion and lust. His arms wrapped your waist and lowered down to your arse, squeezing it gently and your hands moved to his neck and his cheeks, trying to hug most of it. You haven't gotten kissed nor fucked for a long time.

Living on the west side of Europe had given you many opportunities. The situation you're currently now couldn't even be referred to Greek religious people as a joke. They'd freak out and tell you crap like you ashamed your honour, your family and your future husband. Your parents were too open-minded to let you live in West Europe and live your life as you wanted to. You had sex with your boyfriend at nineteen, with no need to be your first wedding night, you wear shorts on summers because you feel like it and now you're having a one night stand with a rockstar of a band you like and it's never gonna be the same anymore. You played it hard-to-get because you felt it was wrong. But it wasn't. It's just one more experience to add to your diary.

"Are you sure you want to do this, here?" He stopped the kiss for a second, to ask for your approval.

"Yes, but let it be fast, or I'll be in trouble." You checked at the door. "Are you certain the door's locked?" You asked.

"Yes, I am. It's just that..." he stopped.

"What?" You were scared he regretted it and he'd leave you like the mess you already are.

"I want to get more of you, but in this counter, I don't have the chance. I'll cope with it." He unbuttoned your suit while your hands tried to unzip his jeans.

"If you stay a little longer in Mallorca, you can get more of me." You winked and he smiled, thinking he has more chances with you.

"Works for me." He whispered and turned to your lips again for a passionate kiss.

He helped you with taking your suit off, now staying on your bra when your hands put his jeans down. "Mind taking your bra off?" He asked while his mouth travelled your neck, giving it soft kisses.

"I'd rather wear it..." you refused taking it off after gaining a lot of insecurities because of your ex-boyfriend. You remember him saying how small your breasts are and with that, no other man can see it. Your A-cups haven't be seen by any other man. Not even by your ex after the second time, you had sex with him.

"As you wish..." he didn't insist and pulled your skirt up, on your waist, with his bulge rubbing against your core and turning you instantly wet. "How long has it been?" He asked after noticing the humidity between your legs with his hand.

"Must be eight months. I'm out of practice." You sighed.

"Don't feel bad about it, I'll do the work. You're already wet for me. I like it." He bit his lower lip and turned to your lips again, for a deep kiss. "God, you are fat-bottomed aren't you?" He smiled between the kiss after squeezing your thighs and your small waist. "I'm starting to have a thing for greek girls." He complimented your body type and that boosted your low confidence level. With a simple move, he placed you against the mirror, taking your thong off your left leg to have clear access inside your wet area. His hand pulled his erected penis out of his black underwear, ready to thrust inside you.

"You better start before I cum untouched." You exhaled and balanced yourself at the counter.

He smirked and trusted inside you, feeling him completely weird inside you, maybe because you haven't had sex for more than half a year. The sensation was amazing and penetration was always the thing that released you from thoughts. His hands squeezed your thighs and each thrust was a try to pull you closer to his pelvis. You couldn't stop breathing heavily. You had to be quiet and so did he. It was a staff-only bathroom and the key was turned horizontally so no-one could break in with a spare key.

"Oh god, this is amazing..." you moaned at every pleasuring wave while your hands played with his blonde hair.

"Fuck, yes, you're so tight and wet for me." He tightened his teeth as he exhaled into your ear.

His thrusts were giving you the orgasm you haven't had for a long time. It was the tension between you, that made it more passionate but fast enough to make you come earlier than you thought. Soft whimperings coming from your mouth sent him the message that you were close enough and so was he. You could tell by his sharp thrusts, getting smoother and sudden. His gaze was focused on your eyes. Your sight was getting blurry and your legs began to shake; it happens when you reach your orgasm and it feels terrific.

"Ah, God..." you moaned and tilted your head behind, where the mirror is. "That was so refreshing." You gasped after wearing your thong again.

"Ain't gonna lie, but this WC shag was the best I had." He laughed and wore his underwear and jeans again.

"I can't make comparisons to it, I've only had two boyfriends in my life and this is my first time fucking a stranger at my workplace's restroom." You buttoned your suit and stood up from the counter to fix yourself.

"Stranger?" He asked confused.

"Stranger, Roger. I mean, I do know you're a rockstar, a member of my favourite band and I've seen you live once but it won't change the fact you're a stranger. I know you as a persona, not as a person. You get it?" You tried to explain how it feels.

"Oh, I see." He nodded. "Will I see you again? I want to know you as a person if you want that too." He suggested.

"Sure." You kissed his cheek gently, letting him take the lead. You wanted him to make the move. "I'll just walk out from the WC first and make sure no one sees you when you get out." You said and walked through the door until someone tried to get in. A knock on the door was heard.

"Ellen, are you still in there?" It was James.

"Yes, I'm coming." You internally panicked and hinted at Roger to hide in the toilet. "Hey James, is everything alright?" You asked after opening the door.

"Yes, I wanted to check on you. You were absent for a quarter. Are you okay? You look like a mess." James liked you for a long period of time but he wasn't your type. He's way too cute for your standards.

"Yeah, I'm fine... I just felt a little dizzy and wanted to wash my face with cold water. I needed it." You lied after checking your face in the mirror. You were red as a tomato.

"Oh, fine then. You should get back to your post. The boss has been looking for you." He pointed outside and you felt really bad about it. Your boss suspects you since the moment you started chatting with the blonde man hiding in the toilet.

"Alright, I'll be back in a minute." You closed the door to his face and rushed to the toilet where Roger was hiding.

"You're a cute little liar, aren't you?" He teased and gave you a little slap on your butt cheek.

"I won't be anymore if my boss finds out." You rushed, trying to leave the toilet.

"How will I reach you?" He asked trying to learn your phone number.

"Just come at my post and I'll hand you a drink." You declared and left the room, heading fastly at your post. You stared at the Queen members, looking at you all smiles and winks. They probably knew what happened a quarter ago.

You fixed another drink for Roger, trying to look calm and relaxed. But you weren't. You were tense and it could be seen. Two minutes later, Roger came to your counter again with a crooked smile on his face, waiting for the drink. He was looking whether at his bandmates or you. There was absolute silence.

"Here's your drink." You smiled and handed his drink with a small paper around the glass. He carefully grabbed the paper so it couldn't be seen and walked away, heading to the balcony.

He grabbed the paper, unfolded it and there was your phone number and a note in it: "thanks for giving me a good time Rog"

He smirked at your note and placed it in his pocket, anticipating the moment he'd call you.

[iamknicole]

Deja Vú (2)

Florian Munteanu/OC

Its probably pretty awful but it was stuck in my head 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️

After two weeks with her nieces their mother had finally picked them up from Angel. She didn't offer an excuse or extend a thank you but Angel wasn't expecting one either. She still checked on them while they were home because she knew her brother would want her to.

After work Angel decided to go to the hookah bar down the street from her house to relax. Her another friends usually went their together but they were all working but she didn't mind going alone.

She looked around the room as she sat in a booth waiting for a waitress. The room was dimly lit which is why she chose to sit at a booth with a small hanging light over it. Moments later, a brown skin girl dressed in black short shorts and a fitted black tee came to her table placing the hookah on it. She put fresh cubes at the top then smiled.

"Here you go. Its jungle juice flavored, love."

Angel looked at her strangely and took the hose from her, "Um ... this isn't mine. I didn't order this."

The waitress smiled. "It was from another customer. He asked me to send it to you."

"Oh no thank you. I'm good."

"Uh, no, I think you should keep it. Its the guy on the couch over there," The waitress explained pointing discreetly in the direction.

Rolling her eyes, Angel looked at who was on the sofa. When she did she spotted the man she had bumped into weeks ago sitting wide legged with the hookah hose in his hand. She smiled and sat back in the booth.

"Can you do me a favor and take it over to sit on his table? I'm gonna sit with him."

The waitress nodded waiting for Angel to get up and follow her. When she got to the table she sat beside him, turning her body sideways so she could look at him.

"Jungle juice?"

He laughed taking a pull from the hose.

"Seemed fitting. It got you here, didn't it?"

"I guess it did," she hummed picking up her own hose, "Why is it fitting?"

"Closest thing to jungle fever, no?"

Angel laughed for the first time in a while. She shook her head taking a pull.

"What do you think?" He asked watchign her facial expressions.

"Minty and fruity. I like it."

He nodded. "I have good taste. Looks like you do as well."

The two sat for another two hours talking about nothing in particular. They'd gone through four refreshers before Angel's phone vibrated on the table. She saw her nieces' picture pop up and answered putting her hand over her other ear.

"What's up, Nyla?" She asked quickly.

"Auntie, come get us, please."

"Why? Whats wrong?"

"Mama not here and her boyfriend got people in the house. They doin drugs, Auntie. I had to lock us in Nia's room."

Angel took a deep breath before answering. "Alright, I'm on my way. Stay in the room till I get there."

When they hung up, Angel looked over and started to call his name realizing she didn't know what it was.

"We've been sitting here and I don't even know you're name."

He leaned in close so she could hear him, "Florian."

She smiled and stuck her hand out to him which he took. His hand swallowed hers. "Well, Florian, I'm Angel."

"Hmm.... Angel? Never thought I'd see on walk the earth." He responded cooly slowly letting her hand fall from his.

"Cute," she laughed, "But I need to go, my nieces need me. "

Florian flagged the waitress down, "Give me a second to pay. I'll go with you."

"You don't gotta do that, Florian. I assume you were just apologizing for bumping me. All is forgiven."

After handing the waitress two hundred dollar bills, he laughed under his breath and stood up. He offered his hand to her which she took.

"Not what I was doing. Sounded like you were upset, I want to make sure all is okay."

Figuring that arguing wouldn't work, Angel followed him outside. He walked her to her car then told her to follow him to his building so he could drop his car off.

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

"Your nieces okay?" He asked fifteen minutes into their drive.

"As long as they're in their room, they are."

"Is there a problem where they live?"

Angel nodded turning into the neighborhood. "Yeah, their mama got shit for brains."

Florian laughed at the tone of her voice. He understood the seriousness but to hear her so upset was sort of amusing to him after she'd been so happy and carefree at the bar.

"Something funny?"

"Yeah, the way you said that. You sound pissed."

"Cause I am," she snorted. "Stop making me wanna laugh."

When they pulled up to the house, Angel parked across the street and killed her engine. She saw the cars parked in front of the house and shook her head.

"You mind coming in with me to get them?"

Florian shook his head and started to get out, "Not at all. Come on."

The door was unlocked when they got to the porch so they walked on in. Florian walked closely behind her looking around the small house. Angel went straight to the living room she spotted 6 men and 2 women sitting around it.

"Chanda know you doin this shit in her house, Rod?" Angel asked loudly.

Rod jumped then scoffed when he realized who it was. "Man, gone somewhere with all that. Take ya bougie ass on."

"Yeah, after I get my nieces I will. I don't know why she let your dumbass have a key anyway." Angel fussed turning to leave the living room.

"I don't know why she gave you a key either, bitch. Airways messing shit up."

Angel started to turn around but Florian stopped her telling her to grab her nieces. She knocked softly on the bedroom door then called their names softly promoting them to open the door.

"Come on. We leaving, yall. Yall got what yall need?"

Nyla grabbed both their bookbags then her little sister's hand and walked out the bedroom. Shaking her head, Angel followed them down the short hallway and found Rod pinned against the wall by Florian. She gave Nylah the keys telling her to go get in her sub then rushed to Florian pulling his arm to no avail.

"Let him go. Its okay."

"Its not," he said simply, "Apologize to her."

Rod stuttered out an apology prompting Florian to let him go. Nodding, Angel pulled her new friend out of her sister's house to the suv.

"Girls, this is Florian. Florian, these are my nieces, Nia and Nylah." Angel said pulling off from the house. "We're gonna take him home then get food. Okay?"

Florian turned in his seat to smile at them. "Nice to meet you, girls."

"You our uncle? We never had one and we want one." Nia said smiling.

Angel sucked her teeth, "Nia, hush. That's not your business."

"Correction," Nyla added, "You never had a uncle, Nia. I did. But Auntie said he wasn't shit so he had to go."

"Nyla! Watch your mouth!"

Florian laughed turning back around in his seat, "I like them. They're funny."

"We like you too, Uncle Flo!" Nia squealed. "You come over for dinner?"

"Sure, I'd love too."

Angel side eyed him as she drove, knowing this was another losing argument.

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

After picking up some soul food, they all went back to Angel's house to eat. She sent her nieces upstairs to bathe and change before they ate leaving Florian and her in the kitchen. Her phone rung while she fixed their plates, she answered it putting it on speaker.

"What, Chanda?"

"You been to my house?"

Angel sucked her teeth. "You know good and damn well I've been there. What do you want?"

"I want you to stay the hell.outta my house when I'm not there. Every time Nyla lying ass call you, ya bougie ass come runnin. Aint shit happen."

Angel put down the spoon she was holding and stared at her phone. "She didn't say anything happened other than Rod had people over there with drugs so what are you talking about?"

Chanda paused for a second then spoke, "Oh well don't worry about that then. But you heard what I said stop running over here aint shit wrong with them. They just spoiled cause of you."

"My nieces aren't liars and I'm always gon pick them up when they ask. You need to worry about leaving them there with Rod ass." Angel fussed rolling her neck as if Chanda could see her.

Chanda sucked her teeth. "You know what since you think you know everything and you and ya stupid ass brother think you can raise them better than I can then you keep they asses. I aint want them no way, lyin ass lil children."

"Whatver, Chanda. Thats fine, they would rather be here anyway."

Angel hung up the phone without waitng for a response and put her face in her hands trying to calm herself down. Florian, who she'd forgotten about in the midst of the argument, came around the island and wrapped his arms around him to comfort her. He rocked them from side to side letting her cry on his chest.

"So we live here now?" Nia asked softly from the doorway.

Angel pulled away from the hug wiping her face and pushed her hair behind her ears. She went over to both of her nieces, who'd been standing there since the tail end of the conversation.

"Yeah, I guess yall do. Is that okay?" She asked both of them.

Nyla shrugged, "Took long enough. Been tryna move here for months."

Nia hugged her aunt's legs smiling. "I love it here! We get to live with you forever!"

Angel hugged her back laugjing softly, "What about when ya daddy comes back?"

"Then he can come live here!"

Nyla laughed going to sit to the table, "No, Daddy said we getting our own house plus Auntie and Uncle Flo need their space."

Nia pulled away from the hug and ran to the table to her sister.

"Space for what?"

"To make our cousins, duh, Nia."

Angel rolled her eyes playfully when she heard Florian laughing. "Okay, okay, lets eat and stop talking about cousins."

"But I can still be their uncle," Florian asked playfully as he walked over to the table to sit down.

[shewhowillnotbenamed1]

Synergy - Part 2

Part 1

This is Part 2 of the first DamiRae I ever wrote... And it is long overdue. @ravenfan1242​ Happy belated birthday!!!

Prompt List

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Figures.

A dark brow flew up as Damian motioned for Raven to board the plane ahead of him. Therein lay another poorly packaged excuse to check out her ass or legs. She had already caught him tonight.

Twice.

Ignoring a prickle of panic, the heels teetered her up the stairs. But moments later, the blinds drew up around a pale face at the window. Narrowed blue-violets scanned the tarmac, observing the animated conversation in Arabic. After he finished up with the attendants, long legs lifted him onto the jet with an irritating amount of ease.

Instead of taking a seat, Damian excused himself to prattle on some more. This time with the pilot.

A slew of impatient texts rapidly fired off to Beatrice. As more time was allotted to Damian, Raven increasingly relied upon her assistant. Since the initial meeting, they'd had over a handful of dinners. Accounting for flights and travel time, she'd probably been with him in the last month more than she had anyone.

As she typed, she glanced down at her blue-black nails with concern. Another side effect of breaking out of usual patterns - a lot of time between nail appointments. Although her veneer was overall impeccable, there was but the slightest crack breaking through to the surface.

An alabaster neck craned subtly in the direction he had disappeared to. She wasn't eager for his return or anything trite like all that.

But really, where was he?

He was certainly taking a while.

Did he think his time was more valuable than her own? They had barely discussed work when they were together. So what was to be accomplished between them, really? What was Damian trying to do - actually get close to her?

Suddenly, the familiar shuffle of Brioni loafers left her to ponder these deceitful thoughts no longer.

Finally.

Raven gave his olive-green sweater and black trousers a once-over. The hue managed to contrast with his dark skin in a distracting way, while simultaneously bringing out the color of his eyes, an arresting vert.

It was undeniable and utterly unfair for someone so aggravating to look like that.

Stupid, sexy Damian...

"Wayne. Thanks for dinner. You do have great taste." Raven noted. "I was skeptical about the use of your plane to take me to a ranch in Montana, but it was the best burger I've ever had..."

A hardened jaw slackened at her assessment. "Glad it was up to your standards, Roth."

"So far." Raven backtracked. "The best burger I've had so far." She couldn't concede completely.

"Tch..." He clicked his tongue in the way he did. "Next time, we'll swing by the coast and maybe get some ceviche..." Damian began, telling her what her future plans would be with an air that stunned and excited her. And he sat beside her, all the while moving closer to her, her hand laying on her cheek. "Or we'll do a weekend trip. Get some poke at this little stand on the side of the road in Hawaii -"

"Wait..." Raven held up a hand, recoiling slightly. Her indigo eyes flashed. "Damian?"

Damian let out a humorless laugh. "Is something wrong? Is it the fish? We have had sushi twice."

"No, not wrong...exactly." The pale girl worried the rose-colored skin of her lip.

"Alright, then." With that, Damian leaned back in his seat.

"What are you doing?" The man turned to her as if she was crazy.

"I thought I was having a good evening." His jaw was no longer loose, it tensed. Twitched. "What is it now, Roth? Do you have a problem? Or an itch?"

That patronizing attitude only confirmed her need to keep their distance.

"Just one." A pale finger gestured to the top of the sleek, white leather and polished cherry wood cabin. "Why are you sitting so close to me?"

His lips pressed into a hard line. "It's my plane. I'll sit where I want." Damian said definitively, offering no other explanation.

He was so irritating in that way.

"It's a large enough plane to comfortably seat twenty - at least." Raven tried. "Surely you can sit somewhere else besides next to me?"

The deep voice was barely inflected and unwavering. "I want to sit here."

"Your legs are longer than mine - that one has more leg room." Raven pointed across the aisle. "And you'd have the adjacent seat for even more room."

"Hmm. Still, no. I'm sitting here." The calloused hand tapped the arm of the seat, slowly, one thick finger at a time.

Raven gritted her teeth. "Damian, please."

"Make me."

"Make you?" Raven blinked rapidly.

She could barely believe the words she was hearing him speak aloud.

"Yes." The white teeth sparkled brilliantly against his deep skin. "If you want me to move so badly, why don't you make me?"

"Oh, I see." Raven smirked. "Are you finally making the change from a man-child to an actual child?" She retorted with her arms folded. "Long overdue, if you ask me."

"Yes, Raven," Damian echoed. His tone grew steadily more self-righteous. "I'm a child. And this child can sit anywhere he wants on his "PJ"."

"No. I am not going to stand for this." There were some things that were inexcusable. And this was one of them. "I know it's yours, but please - never call it that again. It's a private jet. It is not a PJ -"

Damian continued his tirade, as if she hadn't spoken. "And this child wanted his apartment, but of course you had to have your way there, as well."

Here we go.

Was this whole maneuver some ploy to seek petty revenge? "Fine." Raven retorted. "You like your planes and your cars, but Damian: Why won't you just find another apartment?"

"I'll have you know, I do have other things I desire - things that are not solely materialistic." Damian appraised her openly and received a series of smoldering embers. "And for the record, I have found a place..."

"Well, good." Raven mumbled. "That's great..." She tried again, but she was overtaken by an odd sense of loss. "Really great." The apartment was a source of guaranteed discord between them; it was something they bickered about consistently. And though she was happy for him, they had built up a rapport on top of this (supposed) slight. What would become of their banter without a collective source of contention? "Was yours also your first?"

"My first...?" He curiously searched her. "The first apartment I bought on my own - yeah." With the lessening of crackling static, the air in the cabin had begun to shift.

"Congratulations..." Raven offered. "Our firsts, they're always milestones..." And she swallowed. "So, I guess we can move on."

Damian repeated wistfully, "you want to move on from this?"

"Yes." The pale girl exhaled, relaxing her posture a fraction. "You lost the place you wanted initially, but maybe this one will be better?" She flicked the arm of his seat coyly. And Raven couldn't resist the compulsion to get one last dig at Damian. "Though, I doubt it." She hissed. "Second. Place."

"There." Damian growled, as if she had proved his point. "It's because of that..." He paused. "You say you want to move on, but you don't." Then he sighed, carving a rough hand harshly through his hair. "I - want so badly to like you, Roth. But, you just can't resist pushing my buttons. And gloating."

"I don't gloat, I'm confident." Raven spat. "And confidence comes from knowledge and experience, not arrogance." She was a CEO after all.

"Alright, bravado is good in business..." Damian licked his lips. "But, does that over-inflated ego satisfy you at the end of the night when you're alone in your office?"

Her dark bob shook at the lecherous undertone. "What are you getting at, Wayne -"

"You alone in your office, Roth..." His voice, it had gone dark and decadent. "Sliding off your Jimmy Choos under your desk and sinking back into your chair... To slip a hand up your thighs under one of your tight pencil skirts..." An angry flush was rising on a pale face. But her body warmed at his words, as it, like her eyes, found Damian a pleasurable point. And it too betrayed her. "Or how about in bed? I bet when you finally lay yourself down on top of those thousand thread count sheets, it's just you and your bloated ego. Does it manage to keep you warm at night?"

"Actually, yes. It does. But, thank you once again for your overly-invested concern." It was true about her ego. But if it ever didn't, she had a steady rotation of men to do it for her. "If you think you're going to shock me, you can't." She deadpanned. "Think about me alone, quite a bit, Damian?"

"You didn't answer my question..." The beautiful smile was cruel. "Raven, I'm not talking about the... uh, toys you've collected to keep you warm. I mean, have you ever had a real relationship?"

"Are you prying to prove a point?" Raven raised a brow. "In case you were asking "for a friend", you should know that, I have."

"I find that hard to believe." Damian scoffed.

As if.

"I think you're... projecting." Her heartbeat surged as she countered. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"There's that misdirected overconfidence making you assume things again."

"Misdirected? No, I think... you've never been in a relationship." Damian glared, she could even see his nostrils flare. "No... I know you haven't. You wanted to find out if I had been though... You've also mentioned, what did you call them... my toys - several times before now. So the question is why?"

"It's not as a big deal as you're making it." He rolled his eyes and settled back into his plush seat, facing away from her. "You're delusional."

Damian wanted to end this; he knew he was going to lose. But Raven was not going to end this. Not yet. She faced him. "So you're obsessed with my love life? I think I know why."

"I'm not doing this with you," He growled. With a click his seat belt came undone. "You're off base, Roth. You're not as perceptive as you think." Damian motioned to his temple.

Raven realized faintly that she did indeed "make him". But she no longer cared about that.

No. This had become so much more.

"I'm every bit as perceptive as I think I am." Pale hands unbuckled her own seat belt and inched closer. Damian started to rise, pulling out his phone, suddenly finding it fascinating.

"Sit down, Damian." Raven forced him back down into the white leather, and his phone clattered to the ground. Damian probably could have overpowered her, but he allowed it, just like she knew he would. "You wanted to sit here, this plane is your real estate, so don't change seats on my account. I'll accommodate you."

"You're - crazy." Wide emeralds darted around madly.

"Yes, I am." She leaned on either side of his arm rests. Raven had caged him in. "You knew that already. And yet you keep inviting me out."

"What are you doing?"

"Proving my point." She gripped his hair in a fist. As his cool façade cracked. The faintest hint of pink rose up his cheeks, as he glared at the floor. Damian refused to meet her eyes, but she wanted to see it. The seconds leading up to the break, when he gave in to her. Raven pulled his hair back with a devious, self-satisfied smirk, forcing him to look up.

In what was so obviously a last ditch effort to keep his pride, he growled, "Roth, I'm warning you. If you don't get your highfalutin manicured talons off me -"

"You'll what, Wayne?" His Adam's apple dipped down again. Damian was all bark and no bite when it came to her.

They both knew that.

"Do it, Raven. By all means, test me..." Underneath, she could hear a faint plea masked by his harshness.

"I bet you'd like it if I did." And Raven knew he longed to see what she was up to.

Raven concentrated on the widening stare of deep jade, finding herself transfixed. That unique shade, so much darker and more dangerous than dollars. Damian's dollar bills... She could recall to mind a certain photo shoot. But in her mind, it was decidedly less philanthropic.

Damian Wayne. Hard and sculpted under taut, rich caramel. Supine and outstretched. Enticing with nothing but dollars sliding down his decency. Down and down they fell... Raven licked her lips, feeling famished after that huge meal. But in a way that was more carnal.

"What the hell are you staring at anyway?"

[dominaecaede]

Tomorrow Never Comes

Chapter 4 results: 65% chose to see who it is

〘 twitter 〙

The following story will have themes such as blood, gore, situations that may cause anxiety and major character death. If you are sensitive to any of these, please do not proceed.

Chapter 5: It's A Small World After All

They watched the knob shake and jangle and the door banging in. Beads of sweat rolled down the side of their foreheads as their brains pounded with what to do. If they let this mysterious person continue, those creatures will hear the knocks and they'll kill him. If not, then they could save a life. The life of someone they don't know whether they were trustworthy or not.

"We... We have to let him in," Kirishima stood up. "Those things are gonna get him if we don't!"

Enji only grunted. He was always hard to read but surely his inner conscience knew it was the right thing to do. The man took out a hunting knife he had holsted in his belt and held it on guard, using his other hand to unlock the door.

"Try anything funny and I'm gonna slice your damn head off," he spoke firmly before holding the door wide open.

The hooded figure immediately ran in, followed by Enji slamming the door closed and locking it. He held up his knife at the stranger's head point. It prompted the figure to raise his hands up.

"Alright. Now take off your hood and show your face."

The figure nodded and obliged. When he put his hood down, a face was revealed that Enji would never forget. That thick spiky black hair and stapled scarred flesh were unforgettable. It made Enji hostile.

"...! You damn villain...!" Enji snarled and charged at him.

Dabi was prepared, though. He dodged Enji's attack and pulled out a gun he had in his belt, using it to wack the knife out of his hand and point it at him effortlessly. He chuckled, and the group knew full well that this man wasn't intimidated in the least. Midoriya watched. His reflexes were fast and swift.

"Now, now," Dabi began. "I know I have quite the reputation, but the world's gone to shit. Without quirks, should I even be called a villain anymore? Since without quirks, I don't consider you a hero anymore, oh powerful Endeavor."

His tone of voice was mocking, the smirk on his face as the cherry on top. It pissed the man off. Todoroki stood up and was in front of his mother as he held up his metal baton in a protective position.

"You killed people even before this happened," Bakugou spoke up. "Why the hell should we trust you?"

"I killed heroes who weren't worthy of that title, not random people on the streets," Dabi clarified. "And I may just so happen to have information you'll need, so put your weapons down, or kill me and you'll be left in the dark."

There was a moment of silence as everyone darted their eyes around the room. When the group came to a silent agreement, they put their weapons down. However, Enji still had his weapon up with fierce eyes. Dabi blinked.

"You really think I'm stupid enough to put down my weapon for you?" Enji barked.

Dabi only sighed. "Whatever. You were always a bitter old man, anyway."

Todoroki sat down next to Rei again, who was quiet the entire time. The woman didn't seem scared by the former villain. In fact, her storm colored eyes only observed Dabi from where she was. Dabi sat down in the chair not too far from the door. Midoriya took his spot back on the floor, crossing his arms at him.

"Okay, so start talking," Todoroki spoke. "Why'd you come to this room specifically when you could've escaped the hospital?"

"For the same reason you all did," Dabi answered and looked up at Rei. "To see her. I just didn't expect a full party here."

Todoroki got defensive. "But why? What the hell do you have planned with my mother?"

Dabi snorted. "Relax, kid. I came here to see if what I heard was true, only it turns out it wasn't."

"...?" Todoroki blinked. "If what was true?"

Enji sighed, in which caught everyone's attention. The man looked down. "... If Clearnox got to her."

Dabi raised his brow at the man and gave an amused smirk. "So you and I thought the same thing, huh?"

"There's that name again. Clearnox...," Midoriya muttered. "What did they want with Todoroki-san?"

That's when Enji stood up to look out the window, having an almost visible concerned look on his face. Those who knew him would be surprised to see such a face. "Back to when everything wasn't like this, Clearnox contacted my agency. Yura Hana was seeking subjects for their upcoming project and that Rei was chosen among the 'lucky people' who would take part in it. Rei was under strict protection under me, so I assumed Yura discovered this. 'She would be a completely new person than before,' she said. 'It's not good to keep her cooped up in a hospital room knowing she has so much potential to be something more.' It seemed sketchy but then it seemed... tempting when she put it that way."

"But you declined her, right?" Todoroki raised his brow.

"No, but I didn't accept her offer either. I told her that I'd think it over," Enji responded. "But... Something wasn't right. So I sent spies to their company and see what this project was all about. What I found out was... beyond words."

Midoriya furrowed his brows. "And what did you find out?"

Enji turned his gaze towards the greenette and then the rest od the group. "That they were actually experimenting on people."

Their breath hitched. Kirishima winced. "Experimenting?"

"Yes," Enji nodded. "My associates sent pictures they took of people strapped into these beds and these people in suits injecting something in them. I didn't know what it was but I kept the photos as proof to warn others and to intentionally bring their organization down. From what it looks like, it seemed to have been going on for a while. Here, take a look yourselves."

He tossed three photographs onto Rei's hospital bed where they could see. They were hidden photos of people screaming, deteriorating and dying. That would explain why her name was on that list. Todoroki was horrified. "And... They wanted to experiment on my mother? To do this to her? But why?"

"That I don't know," Enji responded. "But after one of my associates reported to me, something happened. I remember his breathing began to get heavier and he screamed... Then there was silence. The same thing happened to the others. Only one survived long enough to send this last photo to me."

Enji then tossed the one last photo and Midoriya picked it up to examine it. He gasped. It showed the face of one of those creatures, blurred out as if the photographer was running for their life in the process. "Those things were people? What the hell?" Bakugou whispered.

"When that happened, I didn't hesitate to make my way to Rei's room. But by the time I got to the hospital, it was already infested with those things. I can only assume that the hospital was one of the first buildings to go down."

Todoroki was in disbelief. "That's... That's insane. So... Clearnox caused this to happen..."

"That's so fucked up," Kirishima blinked. "Who would do something like this?"

"Someone who probably thought that they'd make a big profit for themselves," Dabi spoke up as he reloaded his gun. "From what I've seen on the way here, those things are contagious too. There was this survivor running away from one of them. They got her, but not even a couple minutes later she began making those deafening noises."

"Are you fucking serious?" Bakugou huffed. "If we get bit by one of those things, we become one?"

"Seems like it," Dabi shrugged.

"I'm still confused though," Todoroki stood up. "You didn't just come to this room specifically just to see if some rumours were true. What's my mom to you? Why are you really here?"

Dabi didn't respond at first, but he didn't want to answer that anyway. However, he didn't have to after all. Rei stood up and began walking towards him, in which made the former villain stand up as well. Her hands reached up to touch his face and the woman's eyes began tearing up.

"... Because you never forgot about me... Like I never forgot about you...," Rei whispered. "Isn't that right... Touya?"

Both Enji's and Dabi's eyes widened. He instantly walked towards the woman and the former villain and put a hand on her shoulder. "Rei, that's not Touya. Touya is gone... He's been missing for years. He's never coming back."

"And why do you think that is?! You made my child disappear!" Rei snapped back, causing Enji's hand to fall off her shoulder. "But a mother never forgets her child's face, no matter how many years have gone by... And that is my son. That's my Touya...! He came back! Just look at his eyes, Enji! Don't you dare deny that truth!"

The large man looked back up at Dabi to see for himself, and the villain stayed silent. In fact, Dabi's expression changed. He looked sad. Enji's own facial expression began to change in realization, followed by disbelief.

"No...," Enji shook his head. "You can't be..."

Rei began sobbing and took Dabi in her arms, holding him tight and not letting go. The former villain didn't do anything, however. He stayed silent and let it be, but he began blinking rapidly as if he was going to cry as well. He couldn't form any words.

However, their time of sentimentality was cut short. The screeching noises seemed to be getting louder and closer towards the door, with the sound of their feet making loud thuds on the floor from running. Bakugou backed up.

"Shit, they're coming...!"

"Dammit...!" Dabi's eyes darted every corner of the room for a way out, but the only way was through the window. He snatched Todoroki's metal baton and broke the window open, then looked out of it. "There's a shade over the second story window and a large patch of grass underneath. It'll hurt but it's our only way out. We have to hurry!"

But by the time anyone could make a choice, those things were already at the door trying to break it down. Enji darted towards it and used his strength to keep it closed. Eventually the door broke open, but Enji was still pushing through and forcing it closed. The group had begun lunging out of the window; Bakugou was already down, Todoroki carefully guiding Rei out and Midoriya was soon to follow.

"Shit, it's not gonna stay closed...!" Kirishima darted to help Enji keep it closed, trying to find anything to barricade it but he couldn't find anything within reach. Enji grunted and looked back at the group before looking at Kirishima.

"You have to get out of here, boy! Or else you won't make it!"

"But then you'll die!" Kirishima shouted.

Midoriya was already at the edge of the window to jump down, but when he heard both Enji and Kirishima shouting in the back, he knew they weren't following. The greenette rushed to look behind. "BOTH OF YOU, COME ON! WE'RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME!"

"SOMEONE HAS TO STAY BEHIND TO KEEP THESE THINGS AT BAY WHILE YOU ALL ESCAPE. YOU HAVE TO GO, BOY! NOW!!"

Who should stay behind?

• Enji?

• Or Kirishima?

[innytoes]

Ok so many of these prompts scream caleb/ray/reggie and if I’m honest I haven’t even finished reading through the list yet but I absolutely cannot resist requesting prompt 3 for them please!

The storm had caught him kind of by surprise. He knew it was going to storm later in the day, but the weather app on his phone had been very clear they had two whole hours until the rain started. And since he knew Bucket was afraid of thunder, he wanted to give him an extra long walkies and some good quality ball-chasing time at the dog park, so he'd have gotten some of his energy out.

So when it had started raining five minutes after they got to the dog park, a whole hour and a half earlier than expected, he was annoyed. It was just a light drizzle, though, and Bucket didn't seem to mind, so they kept throwing the ball.

Except then it started raining harder. He'd had to chase Bucket around the field a little to get him back on his leash, and they started the walk back home.

And then the thunder started, and Bucket spooked. He'd kept trying to dash into other people's homes and into coffee shops, until finally Reggie picked him up and stuffed him into his hoodie. He was already soaked anyway, so the wet dog pressed against his t-shirt didn't really matter.

Then the wind picked up. And the lightning flashed. He cuddled Bucket close, keeping up a litany of praise and comfort as he power-walked home, trying not to jostle the poor, shivering pup. He was nearing their neighbourhood when his phone rang, he jazzy ringtone he'd set for Caleb.

"Hey," he picked up, just as the thunder roared.

"Where are you?" Caleb's voice came through the speaker. He sounded concerned. Reggie could hear Ray in the background, trying to find his car keys.

"Don't worry, I'm almost home," he soothed his worried Alphas. "Don't tell Ray his keys are under the mail, and I bet you I'll be home before he finds them."

"Sassy," Caleb muttered approvingly. Lightning flashed in the distance. "Are you sure you don't need us to come get you?"

"I'm passing Franklin as we speak," Reggie said. Bucket whined. "I know buddy, we're almost home."

By the time he got home, Ray was waiting on the porch with some towels, apparently having been told to stop looking for his keys. "Where's..." he started, before his eyes landed on the squirming ball in Reggie's hoodie. "Alright, I'll take the dog," he said. Reggie unzipped his hoodie gratefully, glad to see Bucket safe and sound in a nice fluffy towel in Ray's arms.

Before he could even turn, he had his own fluffy towel wrapped around him, Caleb gently wrapping another one over his head. "Oh, they're warm," he said, surprised.

"I put them in the dryer for you," Ray said. Reggie felt his heart flutter. Ray and Caleb had been worried about him, but had trusted him when he said he didn't need them to come get him. Instead, they'd focused all that nervous Alpha energy on... making sure he'd be cozy when he came home.

"Thank you," he said, leaning over to kiss Ray, laughing into the kiss at the bonus doggy kisses he got from Bucket along his jaw.

"Let's get you inside and out of these wet clothes," Caleb said. He let himself be lead inside, Ray setting Bucket down and singing the little 'dry the dog' song Reggie had come up with. Caleb very much did not sing along, but he was gently rubbing Reggie's hair dry with the towel along with the beat, so Reggie was counting it as a win anyway.

He toed off his soggy sneakers and slipped off his soggy hoodie, hanging it on the coat rack and biting his lip as it dripped on the floor. That wasn't good.

"I got it," Ray soothed. "Go upstairs and get dry."

He went up the stairs on wet squelchy socks, Caleb following him to their bedroom. He helped Reggie take his shirt off, which he didn't actually need help with, but feeling Caleb's warm fingers skim his cool, clammy skin was kind of nice. The wet skinny jeans were a different story, because that was very much a two-man job. In the end, they managed, Reggie breathlessly giggling as he toppled over onto the bed, Caleb staggering back with the offending wet denim.

He grinned, sitting back up and slipping off his socks and underwear, enjoying the way Caleb's eyes roamed over him. Half of it was concern, but the other half... well, Reggie got to preen a little, okay? He quickly toweled off, while Caleb turned to rummage through the closet.

He grabbed some dry underwear, snagging Ray's sweatpants off the chair in the corner of the bedroom. They were too big on him, so he tied the waistband off tightly. He liked how they pooled around his ankles, and how they smelled like Ray. When he looked up, Caleb was offering him a soft, deep purple sweater. It was one of the ones he'd gotten after Reggie had just come to live with them, in what Reggie now knew had been a tiny fit of envy at Reggie stealing Ray's clothes and not Caleb's.

He gratefully put it on, enjoying the softness and the subtle smell of Caleb, as he buried his nose in the collar for a moment. Then, he wrapped his arms around Caleb's neck. "Thank you."

"Let's get you warm," Caleb said, smiling and wrapping him up in a hug. "I'm sure we can get Ray to make his special hot chocolate as well."

"Sounds like a plan."

He ended up curled on the couch between his two Alphas, cozy under a blanket, a mug of Ray’s hot chocolate warming up his hands and his insides. Bucket was curled up under the coffee table at their feet, with Pockets grooming him thoroughly. Reggie couldn’t help but think how lucky he was, how this was everything he’d ever wanted and more.

“I love you,” he said to the room at large.

“We love you too,” Ray said, nuzzling into his damp hair, while Caleb squeezed him closer.

Yeah, he was the luckiest guy in the universe.