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neo-culture-taste · 5 years ago

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Subscribe! - I Can’t Stop Kissing You

Pairing: Jaehyun x Reader (fem)

Genre: AU, romance, comedy, fluff

Word count: 2981

Summary: A YouTube inspired drabble series where you and your boyfriend upload videos catering to the couple tag.

Author’s Note: Inspiration finally struck! Please enjoy, lemme me know what you think, and please pass some motivation along so we can get these other fics out, lol. Yours truly, C.

For other members, see masterlist.

"Hi everyone!" you whispered excitedly at the camera. "And welcome back to my channel! I have to whisper because Jaehyun is downstairs and I don’t want him to hear my intro," you explained before turning the camera around and pointing it down your staircase towards your living room. Your boyfriend was facing away from you on the couch and you zoomed in on the back of his luscious head of hair before you tiptoed back into your bedroom. "Anyway," you continued to whisper, "today is a special day! Why is it special you may ask? Well it’s because I'm going to be doing yet another--," you paused for dramatic effect and took a moment to bring your face close to the lens so your lips took up most of the frame, "--PRANK.” You pulled away from the camera and shook your head in offense at how much that last word hurt while whispering. “Hold on. Let me move again.”

You moved to sit on the floor inside your closet. But it wasn't that big, so you ended up trapped in a corner with some of the clothes you had hanging up dangling in your face. “So many of you have requested that I do the 'I can’t stop kissing you prank' and I figured now would be the perfect opportunity since Jaehyun has come to visit me for the weekend.” A sound bite of applause and cheers played as clapping hands emojis appeared on the screen with a burst of confetti. “I’ve already set up the camera downstairs and it’s currently recording Jaehyun playing Mario Kart. His favorite game these days. Well, his only favorite game because that’s all he ever plays.” You rolled your eyes dramatically with the matching emoji appearing next to your head. “And we have a special treat! You remember our close friend Yuta from my vlogs, right?” Just then the thirst-trappiest picture of Yuta you could find on his Instagram popped up in the corner of the screen. “Well, he’ll be calling during the middle of the prank to ask Jaehyun something complicated whilst I slobber him down.” You rapidly flicked your tongue between your lips as if you were a lizard and accentuated the sound it made. “It’s going to be great!” In your excitement you raised up your arm and accidentally hit the stack of shoe boxes next to you, causing one of them to come tumbling down with a loud thump on your head and then one on the floor. “Shit, ow!” you cursed under your breath.

“Babe?” Your boyfriend called to you from downstairs. The audio of his voice was low, therefore subtitles were placed onto the screen whenever he spoke. “Is that you?”

“Yeah!” you answered him while making a nervous face at the camera. “I’m just changing clothes!”

“Oh, okay--MOVE PEACH!”

You rolled your eyes again and exaggerated the deep breath you took before addressing the audience one last time. “Let’s start this prank before he comes up here to check on me.”

With an old school static transition, the video cut to a front view of Jaehyun sitting on the couch with you descending the staircase in the distance behind him before coming into full view of the camera. You sat down on the couch next to Jaehyun and wrapped your arms around his neck, startling both him and your puppy who was laying between you, and who seemed to forget your existence whenever Jaehyun visited.

“Oh, hey babe. How was your nap?” he said, pausing the game to fully greet you.

“It was alright. I woke up because you weren’t lying next to me anymore.” Ew! How were you able to say that with a straight face?! It had always amazed you how sappy you got when the two of you were together. You forced a pout onto your lips before hugging his upper body and moving your face to the crook of his neck to plant a soft kiss onto his exposed collarbone. He smelled like peppermint mixed with his unique man musk.

“I almost woke you up,” he said as he let you kiss your way up from the base of his neck to just below his ear.

“Oh, really. Why?” you said against his skin before nipping at the bottom of his earlobe.

“Because I missed having you next to me, too.”

You jerked your head back to look at him in mock disgust. “Jaehyun, you’re so freaking cheesy,” you said then went back to his neck and placed a loud wet kiss against his Adam's apple. “I appreciate the sentiment, but it just sounds so icky coming from you.” It was one thing when you did it, but when he did it it made your insides all gooey and gross. You hated that you loved it.

“But it's true.” He grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger and tilted your head backwards, allowing himself easy access to your lips. He gently pecked your lips and you revelled in the soft plumpness of his moisturized skin cells. He moved his hand to grab the side of your face to steady you as he deepened the kiss and his tongue swept across your lips, asking for permission to enter. But as soon as your tongues connected, your dog whined and climbed onto Jaehyun's lap, feeling left out from the attention, and thus breaking yours.

Now that you had planted the initial kissing seed, it was time to move into phase two of your prank. “Do you want a snack, babe?” you asked him and stood up from the couch.

“Sure. Surprise me.”

Having previously set up the camera, the video cut to you walking into the kitchen, then to you opening the freezer, and then to you popping a plate of pizza rolls into the microwave. While they were heating, you walked over to the camera and pulled out your phone to send a quick text to Yuta telling him to commence the next part of your plan. When finished, you held up your phone to the camera and showed the exchange between you and your friend.

You: It’s your time to shine. 15 minutes.

Sir Yuta: I forgot I had to do this. Umm lemme search the internet and find something to call him about lmaooo

You: 🤦‍♀️

The video cut again to you placing the plate of pizza rolls and two bottled waters on the coffee table in front of Jaehyun right when he let out a shout of victory as his Metal Mario crossed the finish line in first place.

“What cup was that?” you asked him, pretending to be interested.

“Flower cup, 200cc,” he said as he reached for a pizza roll without looking and ended up burning his finger on the hot snack. “Ow! It’s hot!”

“You knew that before you picked it up!”

Affronted by the pizza rolls, he grabbed one of the bottles of water and took a sip before returning his eyes to the screen. “Do you want to play?”

“Nope. I’ll just watch you play.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep!”

You watched him customize his kart with some of the new items he had just unlocked before he selected a different cup to play. When the opening sequence of the first race began to play, you repositioned yourself on your knees on the couch cushion next to him and planted a kiss directly on his lips. You felt Jaehyun hum against your lips in satisfaction as he returned the kiss, but when he heard the countdown for the start of the race he quickly pulled back and moved his head to look around you at the TV.

But of course, that didn’t stop you. You forcefully grabbed him by his head and began kissing the spot just below his jaw that you knew drove him crazy. It was a relentless onslaught of teeth, tongue, and lips all at a slow, teasing, and torturous pace.

Believing that Jaehyun was already feeling totally affected, it was confirmed by the absence of noisy cartoon chaos from the race right before Jaehyun ripped you from his neck to counter your attack by shoving his tongue down your throat. The kiss was so heated the two of you had to be censored on the screen by a big blushing emoji. The video quickly cut to the end of the kiss, which lasted way longer than you had anticipated, to where Jaehyun was gently pushing you away from him. “Lemme finish this race and then we can make out or whatever afterwards.”

“Okay,” you agreed happily then popped a (now cold) pizza roll into your mouth.

You allowed him to play through a full race before you resumed your kisses, this time foregoing his neck to smooch him on his cheeks, nose, and anywhere else there was skin available on his face. You obviously prevented Jaehyun from seeing the TV screen and he quickly paused his game before he lost his first-place spot at the beginning of the second race.

“Did you dream about me?” he asked you dumbfounded but still bearing a smile on his face. “Did I promise you all these kisses in the dream?”

You planted a kiss on each of his eyelids before shaking your head and looking him in his eyes. “I just love you.”

“I love you, too. But--”

You didn’t let him finish talking as you threw your leg over his lap to straddle his waist. You proceeded to kiss him hungrily on his lips, your tongues doing a dance once again as he kissed you back with gusto. You were overcome with a sense of satisfaction when you felt the thud of the pro controller hit the couch next to you (in which the video zoomed in on it as it was falling) and then both his arms wrapped around your waist.

You revelled in his kisses, thankful that you had a boyfriend with soft, pillowy lips whose kisses you could get lost in for days if allowed. You were so into the makeout session that you forgot you were filming a video and the scene had to be censored once again with another big emoji and quickly cut to the next clip. Luckily, before the two of you got too crazy, Jaehyun’s phone began to ring with Yuta’s name lighting up the top of its screen.

“Noo, baby. Don’t answer it. Kiss me instead,” you genuinely whined for him to keep going. Yuta was a part of your plan but now you just wanted his attention to remain on you.

Jaehyun removed your hand from his face and picked up his phone off the arm of the couch. “Hold on. It’s Yuta. Let me get rid of him, first.” You pouted at him as he swiped his thumb across the screen to answer the call. “Hey Yuta. I’m kind of in the middle—" You don’t know what was said exactly but you were able to hear Yuta’s tiny hysterics through the small phone speaker. “Wait slow down? When did you get a hamster?” asked Jaehyun in confused concern.

Was that really the best Yuta could come up with???

“Y/N is here, too. Let me put you on speaker.” He did so and held the phone next to your heads. “Okay, start from the beginning.”

Since Yuta’s story was bound to be dumb, you decided to up the hotness on your kissing. You grabbed Jaehyun's face with one hand and planted a kiss on his lips slightly less aggressively than the ones prior, but still pretty roughly.

Yuta’s words appeared as subtitles at the bottom of the screen since the camera’s mic couldn’t pick up his voice that well from the phone’s speaker. “I purchased a hamster the other day from the pet store down the street from my house. His name is Hamster--“

“Ow!” Jaehyun pulled you from his lips and gave you a displeased look. You had accidentally bitten his lips a bit too hard as a reaction to Yuta’s dumbass statement. You mouthed an apology to him before returning to nibble on his ear.

“Is everything okay?” asked Yuta.

“Yeah, keep going.”

“Gladly.” You replied before sticking your tongue in his ear, causing him to flinch violently away from you in protest.

“Ew! Not you!” Jaehyun whispered harshly as he tried to wipe the inside of his ear with his shirt.

“Well, I was cleaning out his cage, but I think I forgot to secure him in his temporary cage and now he’s disappeared! I’m afraid to walk anywhere, so I need you to come over and help me find Hamster.”

“Umm, can’t you call Johnny or Taeyong or--” You started playing kiss tic tac toe with Jaehyun’s forehead.

“They didn’t answer their phones. Trust me you weren’t my first choice,” Yuta said flatly as if he was actually disappointed that he had to call Jaehyun for help.

You couldn’t help but laugh, and now you were trying to locate another PG-rated place to kiss Jaehyun.

“Yeah, I’ll come over.”

“Cool. Y/N can come too after she stops trying to suck your face. Y’all are gross.”

Jaehyun’s brows knit together in confusion. “How did you--” he began to ask, but you snatched his phone from his hand before he could finish his question.

“BYE, YUTA.” You hung up the call and tossed your boyfriend’s phone on the other side of the couch. “Now, where were we?” You leaned in to continue kissing him, but he dodged your lips by turning his face away from you. Your kiss landed on the side of his jaw instead.

“Hey, cool it, babe. Lemme finish this race and we can go to Yuta’s to help him find his hamster.” Obviously, Yuta’s lost (made up) pet wasn’t more important than finishing first place in the special cup on 200cc. He was just so competitive.

You grabbed his arms to thwart his attempts at resuming the game but he was quicker as he threw the controller down his shirt before grabbing your legs and gently tossing you on the other side of the couch.

“Jaehyun!”

“Y/N!”

You turned your head and the video zoomed in on your eyes as you narrowed them at the camera before launching yet another kissing attack on Jaehyun. In doing so you knocked over two of the pizza rolls and the bottled waters while Metal Mario got hit with three red koopa shells in row.

“Babe, alright! Enough!”

Jaehyun never was one to get this perturbed, so seeing his distress was something new for you. He grabbed you by your thighs before standing up and hoisting you over his shoulders. “Let me give you what you want.”

“Wait no! Jae, stop! STOP! It’s a prank!” you yelled as you flailed helplessly in his grip.

“You can’t back out now--“

“No! Look behind the switch!”

“What?” He turned around completely to walk towards the camera, your butt now on full view as your front side faced the couch. He found the camera hidden behind the game console and picked it up while he lowered you back to your feet. He stared blankly into the lens as he tried to comprehend what had just happened between the two of you.

You swiped the camera from his hands and smiled triumphantly into the lens. “Hey, again everyone! I hope you enjoyed seeing Jaehyun lose his cool and literally THROW ME.”

Your boyfriend stood behind you, still void of emotion and staring into the camera. “You kissed me for a prank? And not because you wanted to?” Aw, no! Why did he sound so dejected?!

“Wait, no! I wanted to but...yeah?”

“I’m hurt.” He said while clutching his chest. Nooooooooo! A bunch of crying faced and heartbroken emojis appear sporadically on the screen.

“Why are you hurt? I was being annoying!”

“Yeah, but I was still into it.”

“We can continue what I started if you want to, babe.” Holding the camera with one hand, you reached out to him with the other to give him a one-armed hug, in which he returned unconsciously.

“No. I’m over it. Let’s go help Yuta.” You smiled at him mischievously and then looked back at the camera. “What?”

“That was part of the prank, too. Yuta was in on it. He doesn’t have a hamster.”

Jaehyun looked at the camera, then at you, and then back at the camera before walking away from you and sitting back on the couch. “I’ve been tricked,” he said absolutely flabbergasted.

You followed him to the couch with the camera and sat beside him, then linked your free arm with his. “Well, that’s it for today! Thanks for watching! I’m going to reheat our pizza rolls now and then I’ll kick his ass in Mario Kart.”

“You wish.”

“Give me a kiss, babe.” You puckered your lips for him, but Jaehyun had other plans of the revenge variety. He cornered you on the couch and put his big body on top of you as he placed sloppy wet kisses along your neck, causing you to shriek and drop the camera to the floor. The only thing visible on the screen was a slanted view of your puppy ripping apart one of his plush toys underneath the couch.

You giggled and squealed as your boyfriend prevented you from closing out your video in one of the most pleasant ways. You knew he didn’t plan on letting up on you anytime soon, so you had to manage. “Don’t forget to like and subscribe, and follow us on social media,” you began yelling from the top of the couch. “I put out a new video every week--Ah! Jae, wait!”

The scene cut out with another static transition and the video ended with the ‘no signal’ color bars accompanied by the notorious elongated beep.

- C

#jaehyun #Jung Jaehyun #Jung yoonoh #nct Jaehyun #nct #nct u #nct 127 #nct fic #nct scenario #nct fluff #nct smut #nct drabble #jaehyun smut #c writes #subscribe!

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obsidiancreates · 4 years ago

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Freezer Duty (Part Two)

"Okay, okay!" Cheyenne shouts. Everyone is gathered in the warehouse, shouting and holding money. "Guys, settle down! This is simple, okay? If you think Jonah is a vampire put your money in this stupid fedora-"

She holds up said Fedora, a hat that Jonah has tried many times to wear and has been relentlessly mocked for each and every time.

"-and if you think he isn't a vampire, put your money in this crazy big mug!" She holds up a novelty mug that says 'My hair is as slick as my moves'.

Bets are placed, and the games truly begin.

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Jonah looks at the customer and nods as they drone on about... something. He's trying very hard to focus on what, but it's just impossible. His lunch was completely unsatisfying, and he's still tired as hell.

"-so then the bagel caught fire-"

He just feels groggy and sick. And he's freezing! He even put his jacket on under his vest, and he's still cold! If only he had one of those cardigans from college with him...

"-and anyway, I just hope this won't turn out the same way."

Jonah nods along for a minute more before registering that the "conversation" is finally over. "Okay, well, good luck with that, ma'am," he says with a tired smile.

"Thank you, um... Joe-neh.”

“It-it’s Jonah, actually- and she walked away. Okay.” Jonah sighs and yawns, stretching his arms. He accidentally swings then out too wide, and knocks something over right onto the ground.

He jumps at the sheer volume of the impact! “WHAT IN THE-”

A barbell in a box smashes against the ground, denting the floor.

“How did- who- where-” Jonah looks around, trying to spot someone who would misplace a barbell into grocery!

He kneels down to take a look. It’s cracked the floor significantly.

He looks at his hand. It’s not even red where he accidentally punched the absurdly heavy weight. He struggles with grocery bags more often than not, and yet this- whatever this even is- happened?!

“Gotta be at an angle,” he mutters to himself. He puts his hands on the shelf, rubbing it, crouching down and examining it closely. “Just slid off at the lightest touch, clearly.”

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“Wow.” Mateo looks at Brett. “How did you even get that over there? It must weigh like, a million pounds.”

Brett gives no reply. Nor any indication that he heard Mateo at all.

“Fine then,” Mateo says, offended. “Well, that’s a point for the ‘vampire’ better for sure.”

“Totally.” Cheyenne is already marking it down in her notebook.

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Dina watches Jonah on the security cams. “Let’s see how you like this one.” She pulls out her walkie-talkie. “Do it now, Garrett.”

“This is crazy. You know that, right?”

“Just do it!”

At the customer service desk, Garrett sighs and pulls out his phone. He taps an audio file, and holds it up to his mic.

Dina watches Jonah like a hawk.

First his head lifts up, clearly confused, and then after a moment he claps his hands over his ears. Over the camera she hears him shout, “What the hell is that?!”

Customer turn and looks at him with bewilderment, and looks around.

Jonah looks around too, somewhat distressed.

“Ha!” Dina stands up a little and points at her monitor. “Superhuman hearing!”

“Hey, Dina?” Garrett says over the walkie. “What is this supposed to be doing, exactly?”

“That’s a frequency human ears can’t hear, but Jonah just did,” she says happily.

“Are you serious?”

“Always. He’s freaking out in the middle of grocery,” she says with a laugh.

“Okay, turning this off now.”

“No! I want to see how long he can handle it first, for future reference.”

“Yeah, well, I bet against him being a vampire so this doesn’t benefit me at all.”

Garrett lowers the phone and turns it off. Dina watches Jonah drops his hands from his ears with a small gasp of relief. She plops back into her chair with a disgruntled sigh.

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“Hey, Sandra? Um, so, we got a complaint,” Glenn says, trying to get Sandra’s attention, “Someone said that a bunch of bats flew out of the hole in the ceiling and started trying to rip their hair out? Anyway, uh, we can’t call animal control without corporate approval, so I need someone to handle that...”

Glenn waits for a moment, and then clears his throat. Sandra is still focused on something else. He clears it again, more insistently. Still nothing.

“SANDRA!”

The shrill shout make Sandra jump. Glenn smiles pleasantly when she turns around. “I need your help with something- ... wait a minute...”

Sandra is holding a spray bottle, garlic powder, and real garlic. “Um, I’m... restocking,” she clearly fibs. Glenn raises an eyebrow.

Sandra deflates. “We’re playing a game,” she admits. “To see if Jonah’s a vampire or not. Since garlic might kill him Dina and Marcus are making me wear garlic perfume, which is just garlic in water, to see if it makes his nose bleed or anything.”

“What?”

“I know we shouldn’t be playing a game at work-”

“Who cares?! Jonah might be a vampire?”

“Um... yes?”

Glenn shouts fearfully. “But-but vampires are damned! Jonah’s soul might be damned?!”

“... Yes?”

Glenn quickly runs away. Sandra waits, shrugs, and goes back to spraying garlic-y water on her neck.

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“Jerusha? We’re gonna start up a new savings account! ... Well, Jonah might be a vampire, so I think we’ll need to pay a heavy fee to get him into Heaven! ... Of course we have to do it! He probably can’t even think of Heaven now! OH! I prayed for him this morning, what if that hurt him?! Oh, god... I need to call Pastor Craig about this! Oh- hmm? Oh, yeah, I can bring home Italian, what do you want?”

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Jonah leans away from Sandra. “Yeah, uh, it’s-it’s certainly... pungent.”

“A good signature scent?” Sandra asks meekly.

“It... leaves a strong impression,” Jonah assures. And a strong headache...

“You don’t think it’s too strong?”

“Well, um... now you mention it, it... might, be a little... much. Uh... garlic-ish. Kind of.”

“Oh. Do you not like garlic?”

“I love it! I love garlic, just... not as a perfume.”

“You’re not allergic?”

“I just said I love it, so... no.”

“Okay. Um, thanks.”

Sandra walks away, leaving Jonah thoroughly confused.

“What was that about?” Amy asks, walking up.

“I think Sandra got garlic on herself and is trying to convince everyone it was on purpose,” Jonah says, slightly distracted sounding. He looks at Amy. “That or she genuinely wants to smell like garlic all the time.”

“Huh. ... I bet it was Carol.”

“Oh, that’s a good guess!” Jonah exclaims with a smile. “Why didn’t I think of that one?”

“Mmm, you’re off your game today. Anyway, I asked Glenn and we think insurance will cover a basic checkup if you think you need one.”

"Good, good, because I had another thing happen.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I started hearing this like um, this-this ringing sound, kind of? But I don’t think anyone else heard it. ... Everyone sort of looked at me like I was that guy from last Halloween...”

“Oh, yikes.”

“... Anyway, I’ll call at the end of the day.”

“You’re sure you don’t need to go home?”

“Well I’d like to but our insurance is so bad our boss thought I might die, so.”

“Right.”

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“Alright, Garrett-”

“Whoa, where the hell did you come from?!”

“The cafe. Here.” Dina tosses a pack of toothpicks to Garrett. “Hold one of these up around Jonah’s heart and see if he panics.”

Garrett looks at her skeptically.

“It’s the closest thing we have to a wooden stake! I mean, I could carve one, but we’d lose a chair or two.”

“Yeah, Dina,” Garrett pushes the toothpicks back over to her. “I’m not doing that.”

“Why? Scared you’ll kill him by accident? You can’t trip, it’ll be fine.”

“No, because this is stupid. And because if he is a vampire, I don’t want him to think I tried to murder him!”

Dina considers this. “... Alright, fair game. I’ll find someone else to do this.”

“Wait, really? Just like that?”

“Yeah. Any idiot could hold a toothpick to someone else’s heart.”

Dina walks away, huffing, as Garrett is left with an odd feeling of dejection.

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Jonah pauses as he walks past patio. He doubles back, and spots Marcus using one of the grills.

Marcus looks up and grins. “Hey! Feeling peckish?”

“Um, are you allowed to be- isn’t that kind of dangerous, actually?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I uh, get special treatment after cutting off my thumb,” Marcus brags.

“Oh... kay. Um...” Jonah looks at the steaks, mouth watering. “I guess... I could use a snack.”

“Great! How rare do you want it?”

“... Do you mean how well-done? Just- usually people don’t start with the assumption of rare...”

“Well, a lot of my friends like their steaks bloody.” Marcus laughs, and then looks at Jonah very seriously.

“Oh, um, that-that’s... cool.” Jonah looks at the steaks sitting on the plate, in a pool of red, metallic-smelling, warmed blood...

He wipes his mouth. “Um, medium rare,” he says quickly. “And I’m just- I’m going to head over to the um, I think I saw a spill! In isle, uh... yeah.”

Jonah quickly walks away, and Marcus pulls out his phone to text Cheyenne.

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“Hey, Glenn, I was thinking and I think we should send Jonah to- whoa.” Amy stops in her tracks, standing in Glenn’s doorway completely still as her boss tries to quickly hide the fact that he’d been crying.

“Um, go on, Amy.”

“Glenn, are you okay?” Amy closes the door and sits down.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” Glenn waves off. “Just worried about Jonah, you know?”

Amy sighs. “Yeah, I am too. He said he heard a ringing in his ears, so I think maybe we should send him to the doctor and just use the jar method-”

“NO!”

Amy startles at Glenn’s shout. “Why?”

“Because he’s a vampire now, and-and who knows what the scientists will do to him!”

Amy closes her eyes and shakes her head, trying to process that. “I’m sorry, he- what? Why do you think that?”

“Everyone does!” Glenn swings his arm out for emphasis.

“... So... there’s no evidence, just people spreading rumors?”

“He had the two holes in his neck!”

“Okay, but, vampires aren’t real. You know that, right?”

Glenn shakes his head. “The Devil can do terrible things to good people! And-and one of those things, is turning best friends into vampires!”

Brushing past the fact that Glenn believes Jonah to be one of his best friends, Amy stands up. “Okay, Glenn, how about we go out there and look at Jonah.”

“... I’m scared to.”

“Just come on.”

Amy drags Glenn out of the office and runs into Justine. “Hey, Justine, where’s Jonah?”

“Oh, I think he’s at the grills-”

“Kay, thanks!”

She takes Glenn to Jonah despite Glenn’s protests. “See? Jonah is perfectly norm-”

She stops, and Glenn shrieks.

“Not what it looks like!” Marcus assures, fumbling with a napkin to wipe the blood off of Jonah’s chin.

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*minutes earlier*

“Why do I need to be blindfolded for this?” Jonah asks nervously, fidgeting with his hands in his lap as Marcus covers his eyes.

“I want you to guess which one is cooked right without seeing it.”

“Wh-why, though?”

“Because... it’s a game!”

It’s to see how sensitive Jonah is to blood.

Marcus cuts a slice of steak, and holds it up. Jonah hesitantly opens his mouth, and Marcus shoves the steak piece in. Jonah coughs. “Very aggressive.”

Marcus shrugs, and waits.

“... Medium well?”

“Yes! Noice! My friend knows his steaks. Okay, here’s another one.”

Jonah chokes a little. “You really don’t have to shove it, in, um, you almost stabbed me.”

“Just tell me the steak...”

Jonah chews. “... Medium rare?”

“You are on fire! Okay, one more.”

Marcus shoves the fork into Jonah’s mouth. Jonah hisses in pain, biting down on the very rare piece of steak. Blood dribbles down his chin, both from the meat and his own mouth.

“Oh, shit, I am so sorry! Let me help, um-” Marcus grabs a napkin, and starts trying to unfold it.

Amy and Glenn round the corner at that exact moment. Marcus looks at them with slight fear. “Not what it looks like!”

Jonah coughs, spitting out the steak onto his lap. “This game went horribly wrong!” He takes off the blindfold and grabs a napkin himself, pressing it to the roof of his mouth.

Glenn looks like he’s about to faint. Amy holds her hands up. “What the hell happened?!”

“I was seeing if Jonah could tell different steaks apart and I kind of, uh, stabbed his mouth.”

Jonah looks at Marcus with an incredulous glare (that almost seems to have concern mixed in, but all of Jonah’s expressions look like that).

“Okay, Marcus, go back to the warehouse! Jonah, let me see- dammit, okay, lets go find some kind of antibiotic mouth spray or something-”

She leads Jonah away as Glenn and Marcus are left behind.

Glenn looks around for a moment, swinging his arms. “So, um... how did he do?”

Marcus smiles. “Awesome,” he chuckles. “That guy is totally a vampire, I’d bet my windshield.”

“Oh.” Glenn’s voice is weak. “I-I think I need to sit down.”

Marcus holds up a plate. “Want a steak?”

“... Sure.”

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Amy takes the plastic off the spray and holds it up. “Okay, take away the napkin.”

Jonah takes it out of his mouth, and Amy shines a light in so she can aim the spray. “Where did he get you? I can’t see any holes.”

Jonah points. Amy squints. “No, there’s nothing. Not even any bleeding.”

They both look at the very bloody napkin.

Amy’s brows furrow. “... Sure healed fast.”

“I-I guess it felt worse than it was.” Jonah runs his tongue over the roof of his mouth. “You’re sure there’s nothing?”

She checks again, and her eyes drift to his teeth. ... Are those two actually sharper, or is she just imagining it?

“... Yeah. Nothing.”

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

Jonah heads back out onto the floor, stomach rumbling. He got two bites of steak, which just made him more hungry really.

He passes by the grills. Glenn and Marcus are gone, but a steak remains. The rare one.

He stares at it for a moment, and then gives in. He walks over, picks up the plate-

And the next thing he knows he’s holding the steak in his hands, and it’s bone-dry. He blinks, and looks up and around as though he thinks someone else could have come in and dried out the steak.

He has a metallic taste in his mouth, and he does feel marginally less hungry. Still at a stomach-growling level, but it had been starting to hurt.

He looks down at the now inedible steak. He sets it back down and walks away, trying to figure out what the hell happened and why he had blacked out again.

He passes by Sandra, who’s texting something to someone.

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

“Another point to Vampire.” Cheyenne smugly marks it down. “Told you.”

“Alright, alright, I shouldn’t have doubted you,” Mateo admits. “So what do we do? I mean, we can’t keep working with him now, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if he tries to bite us?”

“Ooooh. ... I guess I hadn’t thought of that. ... He’s probably going to be a nice vampire, though.”

“Sure, for now. But what if someone like, eats his lunch?”

“Wouldn’t his lunch be people now?”

“Okay, so then, what if someone becomes his lunch? ... Should we carry garlic on us?”

“Ew.”

“Super ew, but I think I’d rather stink than be dead. Which is saying a lot, when I run out of cologne I use Febreeze.”

“Which kind?”

“The sea breeze one.”

Cheyenne nods approvingly. “Well, maybe we can get some holy water? I bet Glenn could get us some.”

“Oh, I think there’s some at my house, actually. Tita uses it when we get ant infestations.”

They both smile at their foolproof plan, and keep working.

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

Amy watches Jonah from a distance.

He can’t be. It’s just not possible. Vampires aren’t real, they’re just in books she swipes from Emma (and reads herself) sometimes. And besides, Jonah doesn’t look like one!

Well, he kind of does, but he looked like that before this morning. Although he does look a little paler than usual...

No, no, it’s winter, of course he looks paler than usual, everyone looks paler than usual because there’s no sun.

... It was weird how his mouth was completely fine... and he has been acting weird today...

...

She plasters on a smile and walks over. “Hey, Jonah.” She wraps him up in a big hug.

“Oh! Um, hi, Amy.” He hugs back, and Amy shivers a little.

He is freezing.

She pulls away. “Just restocking the freezer?”

“Uh, no, why?”

“Oh. You just, feel really cold.”

“Yeah, I’ve had a chill all day.” He rubs his arms. “Not even coffee helped. But I don’t think I have hypothermia, so I’m not sure what’s going on...”

Now Amy feels a chill. “Well, um, how about we go sit by that heater display, then?”

“Yes, thank you, I need that.”

As they walk, Amy tries to get a good look at his teeth. He rambles on the whole way over, but she can’t get a good, clear view.

They sit down, and Jonah sighs. “Oh, that’s so much better. Feel less like a walking corpse now.” He laughs at himself.

Amy laughs too, forcing it out as she eyes his smile.

Those two teeth are definitely longer.

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

The sun sets over the Cloud 9, and Jonah sighs in relief. Finally, almost time to go home. He’s going to sleep right awa-

He pauses his mopping (someone chugged three giant sodas and did not have the stomach for it).

Where did that sudden burst of energy come from?

“Must be the relief,” he mutters. He finishes mopping up, and is immediately approached by a customer.

“Excuse me, but there’s a section back there with broken lights. Can you help me find my way around?”

Jonah sighs, hands on his hips, but nods. “Sure! Sure, no problem.”

He hadn’t even noticed the broken lights earlier, he could have sworn he could see perfectly. He follows the customer over to the dim, isolated area.

And blacks out.

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

“Hey, Cheyenne?” Amy walks up to the cosmetics booth. “I heard you guys did a betting pool about Jonah?”

“Oh, yeah,” Cheyenne chuckles. “It was super fun, everyone was sending me stuff all day and some of the tests were super silly-”

“How about we shut it down?”

“... But, it’s almost the end of the day...”

“Yeah, I know, I know, just, it seems in poor taste.”

“How?”

“Kind of feels like it’s making light of what happened to Jonah, right? And I mean, I don’t know how I feel about gambling about someone who has a gambling problem, you know?”

Cheyenne considers, and nods. “Well, we won’t keep it up, it was just for today. We all know the answer anyway, he’s totally a vampire.”

“No! No, uh, he isn’t, because vampires don’t exist. So he can’t be.”

“Um, he totally is.”

“But he is not, because that’s fantasy.”

“No, really! Look at all this evidence everyone sent me.” Cheyenne pulls out her phone and shows the group chat to Amy. “We would have counted you in but... well, this.” She gestures to Amy, and the current conversation as a whole.

A crowd has begun to gather. Amy turns and looks at everyone. “Okay, guys, it was a fun day but this, vampire betting pool thing is over!”

There’s disgruntled chattering. “So there’s no payout?” someone shouts.

“Nope, everyone should take their own money back and let’s leave this to rest!”

“Like Jonah?” someone else jokes. The group chuckles.

“Not like Jonah, because Jonah is alive and well!”

“Well, vampires aren’t technically alive-”

“Sandra!” Amy snaps. “He is not a vampire!”

Dina scoffs. “Come on, even I think it’s obvious, and I’m not prone to thinking stuff like that. Unlike Glenn.”

“Where is Glenn, actually, he should be putting a stop to this-”

“He went home early. Something about needing to start a fundraiser to buy Jonah a new soul. His pastor is a con artist, but I respect his convincing marketing.”

“... Okay, then, Dina you put a stop to this.”

“Why?”

“Because Jonah! Is not! A vampire! There are no such things, and-and he just can’t be one, okay? Because he is a-a nervous, stuttery, sweet little man and it’s just not possible!”

Sandra glances over into the isles, and stiffens. “Uh, guys?”

“It could all be a ruse,” Dina says with a shrug. “He’s a creature of the night now. Can’t trust him anymore.”

“No, he is not!”

“Why are you so insistent about this?” Mateo asks.

“Why are you wearing a cross choker like you’re a teen going through a phase?” Amy fires back.

“This is to protect my bodily fluids from your ‘sweet little man’.” Mateo makes a sassy face at her.

“Guys,” Sandra says again, a little louder.

“He’s not my sweet little, I just meant he is in general a good guy!”

Garrett, highly amused, joins in the teasing. “Good looking?”

“No! I mean, yes, kind of, he’s not bad I-I guess- how did this turn into a thing about me? Stop saying Jonah is a vampire when he is not!”

“Guys!” Sandra’s shout finally draws everyone’s attention. “Look.”

A blank-eyed customer shuffles out of the isles, a worried Jonah following. “Ma’am, please, are you okay? Do you need me to walk you to your car? What happened?”

She doesn’t reply, which seems to make Jonah more frantic. As she walks past, everyone gets a clear view of her neck.

Two little holes, slightly bleeding.

And Jonah seems to have more color in his face.

“Ma’am, please, what happened in the isle? Did you trip? Did I trip and fall into you? Whatever happened I am very sorry-”

They both disappear out the doors. Cheyenne lowers her phone. “I’m texting that to Glenn.”

Everyone is quiet for a moment, the only sounds those of Cheyenne typing on her phone.

Finally, Dina pipes up. “I think Amy lost the pool.”

#Superstore #superstore nbc #superstore tv #superstore jonah #superstore amy #Amy Sosa #jonah simms #Vampire!Jonah AU #garrett mcneil #glenn sturgis #sandra kaluiokalani #amy dubanowski #Dina Fox #mateo liwanag #Cheyenne lee #blood tw #stabbing tw #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic

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derireo · 4 years ago

Text

rooftop talk ↦ itaru & izumi

Maybe Izumi was glad that the gamer nerd ended up being the person who discovered her hideout on the rooftop.

It's been years since she last talked to someone like this.

「 2.1k words 」

cw: mild hurt/comfort, family complications. can be connected to the workaholic.

Izumi wouldn't say she was depressed but going back to an empty home probably wasn’t the best feeling. She’d rather admit she was lonely.

Her father disappeared when she was fourteen, never leaving a note of any sort. He was a good father, that man, so it was like a punch to the face when Izumi and her mother woke up to his things no longer in the house and the car no longer in the community garage.

His disappearance left Izumi's mom to take care of the bills of the house, the groceries, and her school tuition.

This meant working multiple jobs. This meant coming home for a couple of hours and then leaving again. This meant blaming Izumi for something she couldn’t control. Her mother even had the audacity to glare at her whenever they were in the house at the same time, but Izumi could only choose the option to ignore it.

That was all she could do if she was living in her mother's house and so to lessen the chances of running into her, Izumi got a job at the convenience store at the young age of fifteen. She was given shifts on the weekend at first, but she begged for graveyard.

If working late into the night ‘til morning was what was going to reduce the risk of running into her mom at home, she’d take it. She'd even rather sleep at the school.

And Izumi’s manager was reluctant in giving her the shifts, knowing that she was only a child in tenth grade, but the desperation in her eyes had him yielding. He couldn’t say no if that was really what she wanted. She had told him that her mother had given her permission after all, and they needed someone to work the graveyard shift anyway.

So, years passed, with Izumi working nearly every night until morning only to then go to school afterwards, taking her naps during lunch break and then another nap at home when she had the day off. Each second, minute, hour, and day was spent in silence. The only sound that would fill her ears at home would be the scratch of her pencil against paper or the whistling of the rice cooker.

She grew accustomed to this silence that lived inside the house alongside her and absolutely hated the noise at school. The laughter behind everyone’s eyes as they talked with their friends, the bullies who would pick on the sickly boy in the corner of the room, to the stampeding of students running down the hall drove Izumi crazy.

They were the reason why the rooftop was her home now.

She didn’t have any friends, nor did she enjoy having fun at the expense of others, so when Izumi discovered the doors to the rooftop, she knew she had hit the jackpot.

It was a breezy spring day when Izumi visited the rooftop for the umpteenth time.

Students weren't allowed to visit the rooftop as the place was used as a hideout for those who wanted to skip their classes and for those poor victims who were dragged here to get beaten down by their cruel bullies. The doors had been barricaded indoors by the teachers, a large, rotting plank having been slipped through the handles while old desks and chairs sat in front. It was like what you would see in a horror movie set in a high school.

It was spooky looking enough to steer naughty students away, but not enough to scare Izumi. The school wasn't known for ghosts, after all—not that she believed in any, and she needed a place to kill time. She threw that wooden plank to the side and dragged every single piece of abandoned furniture out of the way when she first came across it.

And so, here Izumi was. Sitting on the ground with her legs dangling on the edge of the roof with an old, iron railing keeping her safe from falling and going SPLAT.

Quiet. She thought to herself, sliding her arms through the barred railing with her fingers outstretched. The breeze slithered through the cracks between her fingers as it blew her light brown hair back, cooling her already chilly skin.

The silence is stifling.

The sound of the door clicking open made Izumi pause her thoughts, arms still held up in the air as the wind blew at her uniform skirt and the sun kissed her skin.

She turned her head to see a boy, probably her age, frozen in his tracks. He wore thick rectangular framed glasses and had messy blond hair that covered them. She noticed the bento box that was tucked under his arm as well as the small gaming device in his hand. Pursing her lips, she took a chance and guessed that maybe she wasn’t the only one who knew that the rooftop had opened again. Albeit secretly.

The boy took a flustered step back in order to leave the rooftop, but Izumi shook her head and waved her hand. She didn’t mind cutting her break short if he needed time to himself.

“It’s cool.” She said. “You can stay.”

She scooted back and bent her legs to release herself from the railing, skin dirty and grey with dust. The breeze had made her hair all tangled and cool to the touch, and she dragged her calloused fingers through the strands while her other hand pushed her body off the ground. Her black sneakers picked up an ugly ashen hue too, but she decided not to care too much about it as she looked at the boy again and nodded.

His lips parted in surprise when her brown eyes focused on him, and he waved his hand that held his device to keep Izumi from leaving.

“Sorry, I didn’t know someone was up here. Don’t go.” He apologised.

His stiff body was blocking the doors, preventing her from leaving like she had planned. His shoulders were hunched forward as he stood with terrible posture and his glasses perched right on the tip of his nose.

The silence between them was uncomfortable as Izumi struggled to come up with an excuse to leave. She didn’t know it, but her face was terribly expressive, and the boy was able to tell that she was conflicted.

He spoke before the silence drew longer. “We can share the rooftop together… I was only planning on eating my lunch here.”

The suggestion held no ill intent, but Izumi was still reluctant. She crossed her arms over her chest with pursed lips and raked her eyes up and down the person’s body. She’d never seen him around before, that’s for sure. He probably (hopefully) didn’t have any interest in her.

“Itaru.” The boy piped up again, voice meek. “My name’s Itaru Chigasaki. I’m a senior like you.”

Izumi uncrossed her arms and took a step back. She had most likely heard of his name before, but rarely paid enough attention in class to remember. Izumi’s feet were careful as they brought her back to the spot where she sat not too long ago and waved Itaru over with her hand, beckoning him to join her.

“I’m guessing you’ve seen me around if you know that we’re both Grads.” She spoke quietly, pushing her legs through the spaces of the railing again as the boy reluctantly shuffled to her side.

He nodded to confirm her guess and kept his distance away from the rooftop’s edge.

“We share Homeroom together.” Itaru said, popping open the lid to his bento box. “You’re always half an hour late.”

Izumi pressed her lips into a thin line and looked out into the city, going silent. The sunshine painted the buildings with a shimmery gold as the wind whipped through her hair. The cool but sunny weather was great on a lonely day like this, and Itaru gazed at Izumi with curiosity as he shoved a piece of sausage into his mouth with some rice.

He would never admit it but Itaru had come up to the rooftop today in hopes of catching Izumi here. And boy, was he glad to have swallowed his anxiety and pushed open the rooftop doors.

The last time he had seen her here, she was in tears, letter in hand. He could barely see the writing on the envelope that she had dropped on the floor, but he recognized the black scrawl spelling out ‘From: Papa’.

There were crystalline beads rolling down her cheeks then, sleeves stained with tears and dirt as the paper in her angry hand crumpled. Itaru remembered how she cried out into the roaring wind that day, and how her voice was drowned out by the school bell.

Itaru’s reminiscing was abruptly interrupted by the clearing of Izumi’s throat. She made it seem like she was going to say something and the audio cue reminded Itaru to chew his food.

“Yeah. My job ends in the morning.” She answered him, resting back on her palms.

The blond glanced at her through his fluttering fringe. “Don’t you get tired at all?”

It was an innocent question, but Izumi still laughed. How would you respond if someone asked you the same thing?

She turned her head in Itaru’s direction and sent him a kind smile. He paused in the middle of shoving rice into his mouth to patiently wait for her answer.

“Don’t you get tired at all?” She asked.

Itaru fish mouthed. “Well. Sometimes. When I study a little longer than usual, yeah—”

“That’s not what I meant.” Izumi laughed. The corners of her eyes crinkled and she gave Itaru a genuine smile, knocking her fist into his shoulder as if she’d known him for years. “You knew what I meant, right?”

Her tone was full of warmth despite the fact that she was laughing at him, but Itaru didn’t seem to mind. Her amusement wasn’t at his own expense, and Itaru felt comfort in that.

“I do get tired.” He sighed softly, biting at the ends of his chopsticks.

Years of trying to blend in to the crowd and avoid those who only caused trouble for him wasn’t the easiest thing to do. Plus, someone had found out that he was a total gamer nerd and people decided that that was good enough of a reason to push him around. That meant Itaru had to give up on hiding because of the rumor that quickly spread, and he didn’t have the heart to ask his mom for another transfer.

“Then you’ve got the answer you were looking for.” Izumi shrugged. She took a glance at the gaming console he had resting in his lap and went back to looking at the city. “I’d feel the same way if I was the kid who got bullied for liking video games.”

Her voice was gentle, but the last statement felt like a punch in the gut. Itaru put down his lunch box while swallowing the food in his mouth to defend himself, but Izumi kept talking.

“What’s wrong with having a hobby? Wasting money on games is so much better than wasting time hurting somebody's feelings.”

Itaru felt his throat tighten. “...Exactly.”

The bell rang just as Izumi gave Itaru a comforting pat on the shoulder, signifying that their lunch break was finally over.

The corners of his mouth lifted up into a smile and Izumi let out a pleased hum at the new expression. She removed her hand from his shoulder and heaved herself up from the ground, brushing off the dirt on her legs and skirt.

“It was cool meeting you, Itaru.” She said casually, holding out her hand for the boy to take.

Gratefully, he quickly packed his stuff up and tucked it under his arm before taking her hand, hauling himself up with the help of Izumi.

“You too.” He exhaled, out of breath for some odd reason. Itaru’s heart felt like it was going to burst with joy at (hopefully) having made a new friend.

He watched as she pulled her hand away from his and started her own trek towards the rooftop doors, her hair and skirt flowing behind her prettily as the gentle breeze picked up again.

Itaru called out to her before she left. “Uh. Izumi.”

She turned around, walking backwards this time.

“...I’m sure you’re doing so much more than you think.” He said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn’t want to say that he knew how hard she’d been working, so he was just going to leave her to wonder what he meant.

“If you need someone to talk to… I’ll be around.” Itaru coughed.

“Sure. I’d love to take you on that offer.” Izumi chuckled. She waved her hand goodbye and waited until Itaru waved back to exit the rooftop first, the sound of the wind blowing cut off by the shut of the door.

The cold atmosphere that filled the top floor of the school blanketed Izumi and she sighed at the loneliness of it all.

Maybe replacing the silence in her life with a friend wasn’t such a bad idea.

#a3!#a3! act! addict! actors!#a3! fic #itaru chigasaki #izumi tachibana #itaizu #?

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jksangelic · 5 years ago

Text

producer!yoongi (m)

rating: m

genre: fluff, domestic au, established relationship, smut, a little humor idk

pairing: producer/rapper!yoongi x reader

warnings/tags: extremely sweet and soft sexual intercourse, unprotected sex (be safe qt’s), last minute intentions of impregnation/impreg kink maybe, oral sex (male receiving), otherwise pretty self explanatory. yoongi is sleepy in this so that’s cute.

summary: trivia 轉: seesaw makes a great lovemaking song.

word count: 1750

note: this is a really old request. i mean, from last year old. so for that i apologize for taking so long to get to it. in other news, this greatly coincides with a dream i’ve personally had once or twice where yoongi’s song plays over a really serene and domestic smut scene 🥺 lucky me, right???

enjoy!

It comes as a surprise when you swing your leg amongst the sheets and thwap solid body, a groggy grunt retorting back.

You’re awake. Unfortunately so. Blame the open blinds and the orange that floods into the room, staining the wooden floors, majority of the bed and across your face. Mornings had been particularly brutal this time of year, and as you shift your sleep schedule according to the light, your beloved Yoongi sleeps until he decides his day starts.

You sit up and look down and there he is, awkwardly laid facing towards the ceiling and legs still hanging off the edge of the mattress. As if he sat, plopped down onto his back and passed out just like that.

It’s been often that he spends his night at his desk in the corner, creating, tinkering, erasing and over again. Happy and unsatisfied all the same even though what he did was, in your eyes, pure magic.

It takes a few minutes to really wake, careful not to hit your boyfriend once more as you stretch your limbs and wipe the crust from your eyes. You take a couple more in the bathroom to scrub your gums raw (you’d rather be single than ever have Yoongi experience your morning breath) and splash some water on your face.

“Pretty,” he would say. Part of him joking at the minimal effort and part of him more genuine than anything he would ever say in his entire life. He was always like that. A little indifferent in the way that he spoke but you have him all figured out, in the palm of your hand.

You think about turning on the TV, maybe flicking through whatever was new on Hulu. Until you catch his slideshow of screensavers idling on his desktop. One of you both at the beach, one at a concert, one of just you sipping from a cup in some cafe you found yourselves in. It makes your heart swell sweetly.

And then you feel a bit nosy, wanting to know what he’s been working so hard on. He’d shown you the basics of how to work his software, even an airhead like you knowing how to play the track without haphazardly throwing it all in the trash and setting it ablaze. If computers could animate that.

Lacking headphones, you listen to it’s intro as quietly as possible. It starts slow and simple, an initial “click” beginning and dropping into his beats. It takes awhile for you to realize he didn’t yet record his lyrics but the instrumental in itself is marvelous. It was calm unlike a handful of his other songs, encasing you in feelings of summer and nostalgia, if that was a thing.

“Snooping around so early in the morning already, huh?” Yoongi grunts, unprompted arms wrapping your shoulders from behind. You don’t startle and he finds that no fun, maybe from one too many surprises in your time.

“I like this,” you say, “What’s it going to be about?”

He nuzzles into your neck like it’s his safe haven. “How much I love you.”

You snort, letting the track continue and swiveling around in your chair so you can face him. “Liar. Did you mix this for someone?”

He travels a finger down the slope of your nose, pulling your bottom lip down with a thumb before letting his hand sink. “No, it’s mine.” A few beats.

“That’s it?”

“Heh. Remember our first year of dating and how bad it was?” You remember. The ups-and-downs, the arguing, breaking up several times thinking it was for the best. Your heart was unstable then, contrary to how solid it sits now.

“Yeah, that was rough,” you stand, inches away from his face.

“I’m calling it Seesaw, I think. I want it to be lighthearted, but for the rap to be somewhat convoluted. Like how I thought at the time of when we were a little rocky. Confused and maybe even a little dramatic.”

“So,” he interrupts you by kissing your nose, “you’re going to publicly throw me in the spotlight.”

“No, weirdo. I just like making songs that reflect on all parts of my life. Even the stupid ones. The instrumental has been a favorite of mine so far. Took me 6 hours to get it where it is now.” He kisses your top lip, chuckling into it and rubbing the lines in your forehead away with his.

“Your breath doesn’t stink.”

“You say that as if you’re disappointed. I washed up before I passed out. Maybe like—“ He checks his wristwatch, “An hour ago?”

“God, babe. How are you going to function today? Where am I going to get my attention from if you go back to sleep?”

He smirks, lifting you up with a bear hug unexpectedly and making the both of you fall, without grace, back onto the bed. “Oh, you’ll get my attention.”

“I can’t believe you just lifted me.”

“I’m scrawny, not weak. They don’t go hand-in-hand.”

You fake-ponder, squeezing your eyebrows together and staring into space, “I’m... I’m pretty sure they do.”

He attacks your neck, biting in retaliation and making you squeal above him, “Yoongi! Stop!”

Yoongi obeys, halting immediately and hugging you close. Close enough to near his lips to your ear and whisper a seductive, “Will you let me sleep in if I make you cum? How about it, kitten?”

You grow hot from his words, not bearing to look at his face and instead burying yours into his chest, whining simultaneously.

“Ohh... So embarrassed? How many times have we had sex now, surely you’ve grown used to this,” he taunts. His hands trail over your ass, a good squeeze gifted and playing with the frilled hem of your sleeping shorts. “I can sleep without it too.”

“No,” you muffle into his shirt, readjusting so you can breathe again and meeting his mischievous features, “I want to.”

“Hmm? You want me to what, kitten?” He croons, moving out from underneath and pulling you up the bed like you’re entranced by some siren song. All while nibbling on your sweet skin, digging his fingers into your bare ribs, convincing you with every beat of his heart.

You grab each side of his face, luring him onto your lips as you speak into your kiss, “I want you... I want you to make me cum.” He groans in response, flustered. As if he didn’t just command you to say so.

“Y-Yeah, I’ll do that.”

But he takes his everlasting time, palming himself in his pants until you offer to do it for him, eventually scooting down to meet his tightened sweats with your mouth, pressing subtle kisses to the bulge. Pulling the cloth down, his member flops comically to one side of his hip, still a little soft.

You test a lick, holding his base in your hand as you do so, “Do I not get you up as quickly as I used to?” You joke.

He props himself up on his elbows, his head lolled to its side and peering down at you with a scrunched nose. “I just woke up. Like, six minutes ago. This is sleepy dick. Wake it up.”

You laugh at “sleepy dick”, working it into your mouth delicately and swirling your tongue around it like candy. It’s always a weird feeling to have it, literally, inflate in your mouth. Graced in a certain size that seems to contradict his rather lean figure, not that you were complaining.

“Ahh, ah okay. Really sensitive this morning,” he moans, petting your face lovingly. “I wanna be able to last until I’m inside of you, please.”

So you both reposition, his love for missionary holding true as he fits between your spread legs and bracing his hands above your head. The song restarts which now comes to your attention, the “click” reminding you that you ceased to pause it.

Those nostalgic notes fill your head the same time Yoongi happens to fill you, saccharine and melodic. He loves to watch your face in pleasure, always immediate and sending pride right to his hips. He almost scoops upward into you, shallow enough to hit the nerves that make you cry out.

He thinks it sounds nice paired with his track, your high pitch mewls something he wish he could record, fine tune and embed into his audio mixer. The thought oddly turns him on, relocating his hands to the headboard and using the leverage to push into you rather harshly.

You squeak, pleading looks given to your boyfriend and receiving no mercy thereof. If he wouldn’t let up, then so be it. “Y-Yoongi, faster!”

“Ugh,” he pants, fiddling with your nipple between his gorgeous fingers, “H-Hey?”

Your hands reach towards his hips, egging him on with your touch, “Hm?”

“You wanna—fuck, you wanna make a kid?”

You’d laugh hysterically if you weren’t stuffed with cock, “Yoongi—“

“We’ve tried twice. How about another? Just in case.”

He slows for a second, kisses you briefly, then begins again at his hurried pace.

You close your eyes, humming, “Yes. Yes, cum inside.”

It’s only a minute before he finds where he was before, on the verge. As are you.

He exhales through hollowed cheeks, perspiration apparent and so godly handsome that that alone sends you over the edge, his full length and girth ramming into you as you arch.

“There you go, kitten. So sweet, so sweet for me. You’re like heaven, shit,” he stutters, not so far behind as he spills into you. He watches closely, like he can see how much he’s shooting into you, and even after long he doesn’t take himself out.

“Just making sure,” he nervously smiles.

You find yourself on top, again, seconds later. Still full and feeling a bit light. His song playing in the background, maybe for the ninth time.

“Should I turn it off?” he asks, reading your mind.

You watch the curtains pull in the slow wind, warmth shining on your bodies, not a cloud in sight. “No. I just want to stay like this for a bit.”

The rays particularly shine on the side of your belly, rotating yourself a bit so it can catch its luminescence. The feeling is a muted delight, then it’s sudden. The “click” sounds once more.

“I think—I think this is the one,” you say a little excitedly, hands floating above your navel.

But Yoongi sleeps soundly, breath measured. You suppose you’ll tell him when he wakes.

#bangtanarmynet #btsguild #yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi imagine #yoongi scenario #producer!yoongi #kpop smut #kpop scenario #kpop imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi drabble #suga #bts smut #bts drabble #bts fic #yoongi fic #drabbles #i threw in the impreg so randomly lmaoo im sorry if you dont like that anon!!!

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notveryglittery · 7 years ago

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Flirting with Danger, Ch4

summary: In which three-quarters of our cast are useless gays. words: 2,700 / ships: romantic royality, platonic moxiety warnings: mentions of the events from chapter 1 (armed robbery, character held at gunpoint). notes: thanks for your patience everybody!! this one gave us some trouble but next chapter should come pretty easily! @do-your-socks-have-holes-in-them and i are very excited about it!! hope you enjoy!! @fandersfic-royality @fandersfic-moxiety

read on ao3 | Ch1: the first time | Ch2: *mcelroy voice* hotboy! Ch3: sky soliloquy | Ch4: the interview™ Ch5: you have my heart | Ch6: the second time Ch7: is this allowed??

“Good evening. I’m Logan Roberts and I’m here today with our local superhero, commonly referred to as the Prince, for an interview regarding yesterday’s attempted robbery at a 7-Eleven on the corner of Garden Lane and Vine Row.” Logan turned his attention to Roman. “Thank you for your time.”

Roman winked at the camera before facing Logan. “It’s always an absolute pleasure!”

Used to his dramatics by this point, Logan ignored him and shouldered on. “There were three armed suspects, correct? Two male and one female?” Logan made a note here to edit their mugshots in afterwards.

“Yes. Taken care of in no time at all! It was quite easy, really—”

“Your timing was impressive, I will admit.” He didn’t sound impressed; the twitch of a frown on Roman’s lips was so miniscule, it went largely unnoticed. “It was brought to my attention, however, that a victim was held at gunpoint?”

There was really no helping the way Roman melted. He propped an elbow onto the table and then his chin into his hand. “Yeah,” he said dreamily, staring off into the distance.

Logan leveled a flat stare towards the camera, as if to say “do you see what I’m dealing with here?” He cleared his throat and poked Roman’s arm with his pen. “The less cutting I have do in edits, the better.”

Roman snapped out of it and allowed his gaze to flicker back and forth between Logan and the camera. “Sorry, Logan,” he mumbled, drawing forward a bit of his cape, and twisting it between his hands. He shook off the distraction and slipped right back into interview mode. “Yes, there was. It was bad timing, is all. He’s quite alright, though!”

Logan leaned forward, curiosity shining bright in his brown eyes. “From what I understand, the gun went off. Just how does that add up, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Roman let go of his cape and raised one of his hands from beneath the table. He clicked his fingers and allowed the flame it created to linger there for a moment as he spoke. “Well, we all know how undeniably hot I am—” he paused to wink at the lens and Logan resisted the urge to smack him, “— it’s just a pyrokinetic perk. I can stop the gunpowder from being ignited.” The fire at the end of his finger went out with a flick of his wrist.

Logan put it down in his notes before continuing. “That’s fascinating.” Roman positively basked in the compliment. “You said that the victim is quite alright. How can you be so sure? He didn’t stay behind to talk with the police.”

Again, Roman’s gaze went a little distant, but it would really only be noticed by anyone watching with eyes of a hawk. “His friend arrived on the scene before the officers did and insisted they get home as quickly as possible. Seeing as there were others to give a statement, it didn’t seem like much of a problem.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Logan followed without hesitation. “How would you know how he is faring? No one knows who he is, so it isn’t like you could have sought him… out… afterwards…”

Roman’s eyes went wide. Logan looked like the cat that caught the canary. For a few seconds, it was silent. Roman waited for Logan to ask another question or maybe to redirect the interview into a safer direction. Logan waited for Roman to elaborate. Roman caved.

“Alright, fine! So maybe I found his phone on the floor of the convenience store! It would have been rude to not return it to him! You know how we’re all about our phones in this day and age, and besides, who knows how many pictures he had on there that would have just been lost?!” Roman ranted, hands flailing as he did so. “His address was on the lock screen so I… took it to him. The next day. This morning. And he was fine! And when I say fine, wow do I mean fine.”

Logan coughed into his hand. Roman scrambled to backtrack. “Like, super okay! He wasn’t hurt at all! I only said fine like that because he was so fine! Great!” His voice was pitching higher the harder he tried to fix it. “And his roommate’s okay, too! In case you were wondering or if you think that might be important to… add. Include? Everybody’s great!!”

This was… getting out of hand. Logan sighed. “You’re very lucky we aren’t live right now.”

“I know,” Roman squeaked. He dropped his face into his hands and when he spoke next, it was muffled. Logan could only assume that Roman was assuming he’d edit this. “I’m making such a fool of myself. What if he watches this? I’d die of embarrassment.”

“I had intended to make cuts. You are making it quite difficult, however.” At this rate, the interview would look choppy. Logan considered just starting over but their time was limited. Perhaps he could leave it as it was… It wouldn’t hurt if the hero took a blow to his ego.

“I’m sorry,” Roman muttered, sounding genuinely contrite. “I can do better.”

“I’m sure that you can.” Logan glanced towards the camera, the recording light still strong. “Let’s get back to the interview and I’ll see what I can do in post.”

Roman sat up straighter in his chair and tried to banish all thoughts of Patton from his mind. There were more important things to address. He just had to hope that Logan would be able to do enough cleaning up that it would all look alright in the end.

“Regarding your entrance,” Logan began, glancing down at his notes. “You broke in through the window, despite the door having been readily available for use. The cost of damages ended up being equal to what would have been stolen from the register. There’s also the matter of the destroyed displays; there were three of them, two of which were your doing.”

Roman looked downright offended. “I am a superhero, Logan! Dramatic entrances are just part of the job description!” He huffed and brushed a strand of hair out of his face. It was starting to get a little unruly with all of his gesturing. “I could fix the displays in no time, if necessary! I can pay for the window, too! I haven’t had a chance yet to speak with the owners. I gave the police their statement before there was a minor misdemeanor I had to attend to.”

“Oh?” Logan asked and Roman internally cursed. He had to go and run his mouth, didn’t he? Logan could sense a story from miles away and here Roman was, handing it to him on a silver platter. “What happened there?”

“Nothing important!” Honestly, it really wasn’t. A text had come from Roman’s neighbor, saying they’d lost their cat and Roman wasn’t about to let Talyn worry a single minute more than they needed to. He turned to face the camera. “If the proprietors of the 7-Eleven on Garden Lane and Vine Row would please get in contact with me, so that we can work this out, that would be delightful.” See, Roman could be responsible!

“Alright…” Logan agreed hesitantly, clearly itching still to know just what Roman had to leave in such a hurry for. Perhaps he’d get the answer once they were finished.

Patton, precariously balancing a bowl of popcorn and two glasses of soda, came rushing into the living room from the kitchen, looking very much like an excited puppy. After the Prince had returned his cell phone, he’d transferred all of his photos over onto his laptop, and was pleased as punch knowing now that he’d never lose those memories. On top of that, he and Virgil had made snickerdoodles, and then Patton had gone through their apartment complex, offering said cookies to their neighbors, because it was such a fun word to say, and they had all been really happy about it, which made Patton really happy about it, and gosh!! He was just having such a good day!!

Now, to make things even better, one of the city’s most well renowned reporters had interviewed the Prince regarding yesterday’s (almost) robbery. That meant Patton was going to get to see his favorite superhero on screen and he could gush to Virgil all over again about how amazing and fearless he had been.

“Did it start yet?!” He asked eagerly but before he could get an answer, his foot caught the edge of the coffee table. It should have been an absolute disaster; they should have missed the interview in favor of scrubbing soda out of the carpet. However, Patton felt the familiar gentle weight of shadows curling up around his legs, and pushing against his stomach, keeping him upright just long enough for Virgil to spring off of the sofa. He caught Patton by the shoulders and while the drinks did slosh a bit over the edges of the cups, it mostly did so onto their nightwear, and not the floor itself.

“Are you okay?” Virgil asked, taking the bowl of popcorn from Patton, and setting it down on the arm of the couch. The darkness faded from his eyes, lightening back to hazel, as the shadows slipped away to their corners. Patton, as he always did any time Virgil used his powers to keep him safe, smiled after them as they went.

“I’m okay!” He said, putting the cups down on the table. “I’m gonna go get some paper—”

“Nope,” Virgil interrupted. “You sit down, I’ll go get the paper towels.”

Before Patton could protest, Virgil was carefully pushing him down on the couch, and leaving for the kitchen. He sat still for about five seconds before getting cozy and crossing his legs; he grabbed the popcorn and held it in his lap. Commercials were playing on the television screen but the audio was muted for the time being. When Virgil returned, he was carrying not only a handful of paper towels, but the bottle of root beer itself.

“For when you inevitably spill more,” he teased, when Patton gave him a questioning look.

A few minutes later, they were situated comfortably on the sofa; Virgil had his legs stretched out and his feet, clad in fuzzy socks, resting on the table. A blanket was wrapped around their shoulders and Patton was nestled against Virgil, content and warm.

“Alright, I guess I’m ready for you to squeal over Prince Not-So-Charming’s interview, but can you keep it down just enough for us to actually hear it?”

“Virge,” Patton whined, elbowing him in the side. “Let me live!!”

Virgil stuck his tongue out at Patton and turned the volume on. Some generic opening music played before Logan Roberts appeared on screen; he looked proper as ever. Beside him was the Prince and Patton was immediately wiggling on the spot. When he winked at the camera, Patton flapped his arms, hitting Virgil in the face with his sweater paws, before covering his mouth, and squealing into the fabric. When Logan cut the superhero off, Patton frowned; Virgil, however, snickered.

“... a victim was held at gunpoint?”

Patton screamed and threw his handful of popcorn at the television. With his hands now empty, Patton grabbed Virgil’s arm and started shaking him. “Virgil!!!! That’s me!!!! They’re talking about me!!!”

Virgil laughed, taking the bowl out of Patton’s lap. By now, Patton was all but sitting on the edge of the couch. The pair went on to talk about how the superhero’s pyrokinesis worked and Virgil was relieved, finally understanding that Patton’s life hadn’t really been in as much danger as previously thought. Meanwhile, Patton was squeaking over the the Prince, once again, winking at the camera.

Virgil, with the eyes of a hawk, noticed immediately the dreamy look in the hero’s eyes as Logan asked about Patton’s well-being. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“Oh!! Virgil, that’s you!! You’re the friend!!” Patton exclaimed, patting Virgil on the knee.

He nodded and made a face of agreement, even though Patton’s eyes were still locked on the screen. The reporter wasted no time in calling his interviewee out and Virgil was endlessly amused by it. Silence fell between the two and Virgil could see the realization dawning on Logan’s face. Logan Roberts didn’t smile much during his interviews and so when his lips curved slowly into a very smug sort of grin, Virgil wasn’t quite prepared.

“Oh no,” Virgil muttered, partially because oh no, he was hot and partially because oh no, the cat was out of the bag.

Sure enough, the Prince was suddenly yammering on about how he’d found Patton’s phone and returned it to him this morning. Virgil wished he could reach through the screen and strangle him. Did he not understand the meaning of privacy?!

Patton screamed and fell off of the couch. Without even thinking about it, Virgil twirled his finger in the air, pulling the shadows back to the middle of the room. They didn’t necessarily catch Patton, but they did pool beneath him to soften his fall.

“Thanks,” Patton muttered, distractedly, craning his neck to try and see passed the table so he could still watch the interview.

It cut, slightly awkwardly. Virgil narrowed his eyes. He offered his hand to Patton, who took it, and situated himself back on the couch. They moved on, discussing the broken window and displays. Patton was looking progressively more distressed at the way Logan was grilling the superhero. Virgil thought it was what he deserved but, more than anything, he was beginning to grow nervous over the fact that people knew now that they’d been visited by the Prince. It wasn’t like anyone knew who they were, or like he’d given away important information, but there had been other witnesses at the 7-Eleven, and what if they ended up recognizing Patton, and—

“Kiddo?” Patton was poking him in the face. “Are you okay?”

Virgil startled, pulled so suddenly from his spiraling. “Eehhh.”

“Okay,” Patton said agreeably.

Virgil exhaled harshly. “Just— What if someone finds out who you are from all this and… I mean, there’s probably some people that might- I just don’t want us publicly associated with a superhero, that’s just asking for trouble, y’know?” He avoided Patton’s eyes and glared at the TV.

The interview was wrapping up, but Patton had stopped paying attention to it. He turned to face Virgil fully, frowning. “He didn’t say our names, though! I guess he could’ve been a little more subtle… But still, I don’t think anyone could find us just from that. Although if we did get in trouble, that would mean he’d come save us again…” Patton looked off into space with a little sigh, and it was obvious he was daydreaming.

Virgil blinked at him incredulously. “…Jeez. Okay, we really need to talk about your priorities. Again.”

Patton snapped out of it, glancing back and forth between Virgil and the television. Logan was thanking the Prince for his time. “We still need milk!” he said suddenly, leaping off the couch. He hurried out of the room and Virgil pinched the bridge of his nose. He turned the TV off and gathered what was left of their snacks and drinks, which, given how distracted they’d ended up, was most of what they had started with.

He was in the middle of putting the dishes away when there was a clatter by the front door. He jumped and spun around to find Patton, quietly apologizing to the dining room chair he’d bumped into. Virgil put his hands on his hips and gave Patton his best Mom Look.

“And just where do you think you’re going?”

Patton had the gall to look sheepish. “... Milk?”

Virgil’s eyebrows rose slowly. “Without an umbrella?” And by himself when it was getting dark, but one problem at a time.

Patton shot him a pair of nervous finger guns before darting back to his room. Virgil did the same, retrieving his own umbrella from his closet, and met Patton at the front door. Again, Patton looked surprised.

“You thought I was going to let you go alone?” Virgil asked. “You were held at gunpoint last time.”

“You accidentally get caught up in a convenience store robbery one time!” Patton complained teasingly. He looked thrilled, though, that Virgil was joining him.

Virgil checked to make sure they had their wallets, keys, and phones before they headed out. Hopefully nothing too exciting would happen this time.

#sanders sides fan fiction #royality #moxiety #flirting with danger #dani writes #nick's stuff

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black-strike-otp · 7 years ago

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part 81

Bleep :q Tis uninteresting chap I’m sorry. Things will pick up again~ Give it time.

~ Days Later ~

“What’s the rush this morning?” Novastrike yawned, watching as Blackout stole data from the console his servo and injected the finalized data into his personal datapad. “And what are you doing?”

“If I retrieve the documents via my processor and send it to my datapad, I can bypass security and hopefully leave less of a trail for Soundwave to follow,” he clarified. “Aside from that, if I tried taking the files straight from my datapad, it would register under the Decepticon database and be much easier to hack.”

Snapping her audios in an alert position, the small femme glanced over Blackout’s backside turned towards her. Her tail moved in nervous kinks a few times before coming to a pause as she vented. Looking over to where Scorponok was huddled up with his optics half-open on the floor briefly, she brought her gaze slowly back to Blackout.

“You don’t sound like you trust your old comrades anymore,” she murmured with remorse.

The scrapping of Blackout shifting on his pedes grated on Nova’s ears. She flinched back slightly whilst dialing back her reception a few degrees.

“Soundwave and I were never close. He only serves Lor- Megatron.”

“I’m sorry if it bothers you to do this. You... you know you don’t have to leave. We don’t have to leave.”

Blackout was clearly caught short by the statement. He turned his helm slightly and nearly moved to look at her better before the connections in his arm tugged taunt from the computer screen. Rumbling in his chassis, he turned back to the screen whilst his digits curled tighter around the datapad in his own servo.

“Why would you think I want to stay?” he inquired softly.

“Because you were a Decepticon,” she speculated while twiddling her digits together anxiously. “You already lost a chance to return to them back on Epads.”

Patiently, Blackout responded: “Every time I’ve said that I didn’t regret that, I meant that.”

“You don’t feel any differently now, being around them? Not even a little.”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know, different?” Nova offered uncertainly.

He was quiet. It made her nerves feel more frazzled. But after nearly a minute of his silence, he tugged the connectors from his servo free of the digital screen as the compressed data had been screened. Blackout slowly turned to look over at her, the thin lines from his other servo still hooked into his datapad as he finished the transfer.

“I definitely less valued than I did years ago,” he chided. “Megatron has lost respect for me, but the majority of the crew still fears me.”

Sighing, the small femme looked down at her nervously fiddling digits. “I just don’t want you to regret having an honest, genuine second opportunity to rejoin because of... me.”

“I make my own decisions,” Blackout reminded her lightly with a tender smile. “I don’t need to be here to prove to myself I’m worth something. I don’t need to take the verbal and physical beatings and mundane schedules anymore to impress any bot. I’ve got promises to keep that mean far more to me, and a dream to follow.”

Intrigued, Novastrike raised an optic ridge as she wondered aloud, “What dream?”

“Why, just making the most precious, most beautiful femme I’ve ever seen made of moonlight and glittering stars in her optics the happiest bot who ever existed, of course,” Blackout replied with a flash of a proud grin.

Ears flooding with light, she scowled at him while trying to repress her own smile as she hissed, “Trying to flirt and impress me, you stupid aft.”

“Did it work?”

“Well yeah it worked you thick-helmed giant, now get your fine as frag aft over here.”

Chuckling in the depths of his chassis, Blackout took a few very short steps forward as he hesitated, playfully teasing, “I don’t know, your words seem rather aggressive, how do I know you’re not going to try hitting me?~”

Growling quietly, she made a come here motion with one of her digits as she smiled. “Aggressive, huh? I come off as dangerous to you? Or is it just the swears?”

“Oh no, definitely hazardous,” he agreed swiftly, snickering as he inched closer. “A perilous risk to my spark. Can’t you hear the sound of my spark?”

“You soft-sparked jerk, quit teasing me.”

“I’d say by the smile on your face that you like me teasing you.”

A burst of laughter escaped Novastrike, clutching at her chassis with one servo. She gestured with her other servo wildly, watching as the play of light in Blackout’s optics seemed to grow more distinct in its hues of luminous red.

Shifting a little closer, Blackout turned his optics down to the datapad in his servo as he finished completing the transfer. The cables snapped free as he moved his personal pad to the other servo and flexed his digits, inspecting his arm.

“Are you just going to stand there and leave me hanging, Blackout?” Nova pouted.

“Why not? It makes you want me more,” he taunted with a sweet smile.

“Oh really?” she hummed, placing her servo to her hip. “Maybe I should just go find a different bot on the ship who’ll appreciate my presence and conversation then.”

Quick on his pedes, the obsidian mech advanced the rest of the way, one servo placing the datapad on the berth and sliding it away from the edge.

Nova shivered a little as he loomed over her.

“Mmmm, you don’t think I value and admire you enough? Is that what I’m hearing?”

“Well at the moment you’re being awfully mean,” she sulked while slowly batting her optics.

A deep bass rumble pressurized out of Blackout. It was meant to sound threatening; intimidating his enemies but she grinned wide as she caught his smile. A purr radiated through her chassis as she pushed herself to stand up and lean against his chassis. Her face nuzzled into his armor that held a residual heat from earlier.

Massaging slow circles against his plating, she pressed a kiss against the ink black armor. The slightest shiver moved through him; rendered powerless by the simple gesture.

Pressed so close against him, she could understand why he had teased her about giving him spark failure. Her audios could hear the sporadic beating; a rhythm to a beat strong and fierce that quickened and escalated with the pressure of her digits upon his frame.

Growling quietly, Blackout placed his servo against her backstrut, urging her a bit closer to his frame. One of his digits moved to trail along her spine. As she trembled, a sigh moving past her parted lips, he made the quietest laugh in his throat.

“I love you very much, Novastrike,” he stated softly; voice lacking any dark infliction or harshness. “And I do respect you; I adore you totally.”

Laughing breathlessly, Nova rested her forehead against his armor. “I know you do, you dork, I was only kidding around. I love you too.”

“And I can’t hear it enough,” he admitted quietly.

“I’ll be happy to tell you every day, and any time you want me to.”

“Reassuring me that I’m worthy of having a moon goddess in my life? You’re very generous, dear.”

Novastrike snorted quietly, patting his armor. “Handsome devil.”

Snickering quietly, Blackout shifted slightly as Scorponok chirped, scaling up his armor to dock in his backside. His servo moved up and down her back lightly while giving a quiet hum.

“We better go speak with Nighthawk and see how he’s doing,” he said quietly. “See if he’s capable of moving out of the med-bay today upon clearance from Infiltrator.”

“And Knock Out,” Nova added on, her voice muffled against his armor.

Her frame tensed slightly and then relaxed as she leaned her helm back as far as it could, giving him an accusatory glance.

“I know the difference between when you’re giving a loving caress, and when you’re coping a feel you dirty mech,” she hissed, swatting at his arm lightly as she grinned.

Shrugging, Blackout gave a cheeky smile in response.

“Feelin’ my aft and thighs,” she grumbled lightly, gently pushing at his armor. “I’m gonna feel you up later, sounds like a fair trade to me.”

“You’ll have to get me to sit still first.”

Squeaking, Novastrike slid forward as Blackout began to take a step back. She teetered, trying to save herself from falling. Before she could even lose her balance too much, Blackout scooped his servo around her bottom so she was forced to sit as he lifted her against his chassis.

Huffing, she glared daggers up at he beloved. “I don’t need you to sit still. You’ll be coming to me~”

“Oooh, is that so?” he chuckled, raising up his servo to his shoulder.

“Yeah you will,” she growled, a flicker of confusion on her faceplate. “Your shoulder? I thought you said we were going to see Nighthawk.”

“Yes. Do you not want a ride?”

“I mean, aren’t we supposed to be cautious about all this...?”

“We’ve been here enough days now that not all bots are going to be looking at us anymore like we’ve got three helms,” Blackout testified. “The Eradicon and Vehicon anyway seem to be fond of you. I don’t think they’ll be bothered to say anything or spread rumors.”

Offering a thoughtful hum, she leaned in first to press a very slow, lingering kiss against the corner of his mouth. While he glanced away bashfully, she hopped up and wiggled her aft against his shoulder comfortably.

“If you’re sure, love.”

Reaching up, Blackout booped her light on the top of her helm with his digit. A quiet giggle escaped her as she gingerly pawed at his servo as it retracted.

“Quite sure,” he stated while grabbing his datapad to subspace it. “Now if you’re comfortable darling, let’s be off.”

Looking between Infiltrator and Nighthawk, Blackout tapped his pede restlessly on the floor. The dragon insisted on going over his vitals for what had to be the third time since they’d entered the room. He didn’t seem too eager to allow his mentor to get up despite Nighthawk appearing just as jumpy. In that aspect, Blackout and himself had something very much in common: both of them were workaholics.

Only Blackout had found new ways to curb his desire to constantly work too much.

He moved his optics to look at Nova as she wrung her digits nervously in front of herself. Lifting his arm, he lightly stroked his digit against her side, nudging her lightly.

“How much longer does he need to have that patch on his chassis? Hasn’t it been there a while?”

“It was a brutal wound, Novastrike,” Infiltrator admitted calmly. “And he’s an older bot; it takes him longer to heal.”

“I’m not that old,” Nighthawk defended nervously. “I can still get around. I still work. I’m not senile or deaf; I can still hear you all just fine too thank you.”

Blackout smirked as he spoke up in defense of the ‘old mech’, “Nighthawk’s right. He’s a tough bot. He’s been dealt tougher blows.”

“Now, I wouldn’t say that.”

“I would.”

“Well thank you commander,” the seeker medic snapped. “I’m glad you know my life experiences more than I do.”

“On second thought, maybe you should drug him more Infiltrator. He’s a lot easier to deal with that way.”

The dragonic metal beast turned the most unimpressed blank expression his way. The small visor reader on the side of his helm flickered as he gave a heavy snort through his nostrils; steam moving out of his nose with annoyance.

“Blackout doesn’t mean that,” Novastrike spoke up in his defense.

He turned his helm towards Nova and gave a roll of his optics. Turning back to Nighthawk, Blackout felt some of the nervous tension leave his shoulder. It seemed since the medic got hurt, Infiltrator wasn’t quite as usually teasing and fun as he once was. He wasn’t used to having to dilute his jokes on Nighthawk to get a passable grade by the drake that looked like it wanted to wring his neck every time Infiltrator thought he might have gotten under his tutor’s armor.

Checking the results from his scan once again, the dragon gave a quiet muttering. He turned his helm just slightly to Nighthawk. The medic gave him a nod and supportive smile. Whatever decision his assistant came to, he would support it.

“You’re suitable, boss,” Infiltrator finally sighed, like he wasn’t happy about it. “The patch will need to remain in place to keep the wound from getting bacteria or spores in it from the other bots or whatever this planet may have. Lord Megatron still hasn’t approved the issue of having replacement parts sent in.”

Rolling his shoulders carefully not to send Novastrike toppling off, Blackout cleared his vocalizer. “Need me to look around?”

“No thank you hound,” Nighthawk stated with gentle mockery. “You wouldn’t even know what to look for. Isn’t that what you told me months ago?”

“Heh. Guess you’re right,” he agreed.

Pacing in front of Blackout, the dragon climbed up to carefully unhook some of the lines dangling from Nighthawk’s frame. The medic remained still, and as Blackout watched, seemed rather pleased and confident in his aid’s work. He couldn’t blame him. A lot of the dents had been pulled out already, wounds had been welded, there wasn’t a stain of energon anywhere to be found on his frame that had been cleaned properly and carefully.

Sure he was still a bit scuffed, his armor discolored, and a large hole in his chassis but he was online. The Nemesis had a lot better care and variety of items than most ships; and Infiltrator might still have had access to whatever odds and ends they’d managed to haul off in the Jaguar. That is, if Megatron allowed them to use them.

As Infiltrator stepped out of the way, Nighthawk swung his pedes gingerly over the side of the examination table. Blackout took a step back, glancing to the side as the dragon went scampering on the other side of the room. He came back carrying a staff in his maw and held it out to the seeker, tapping it against his side.

“I don’t need-”

He went quiet, looking at the pleading gaze from the dragon’s big shiny optics.

Venting, the medic snatched the cane with a sharp look at his assistant. Infiltrator just gave a toothy smile in response whilst his tail flicked back and forth behind him.

Placing his cane to the floor, Nighthawk slowly pushed himself up to his pedes. Blackout felt a sickening feeling in his tanks, and glanced off to the side.

Novastrike’s servo brushed against his cheek lightly.

Rumbling, he didn’t quite look to the seeker as he gruffly spoke up, “We need to find someplace more private to speak.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Off ship,” Blackout responded. “In the mines. We’ll have it reported in as you going to look in on a possible accident, injured miner. It’ll probably slip under radar. Even with you injured, you’ve always been a mech quick to jump back into work. Lord Megatron probably thinks you’re terrified anyway and would want to get on his good side. Since I’ve been put on shift to guard the mines recently, it’s doubtful we’ll immediately raise suspicions.”

Nodding his helm, the medic adjusted his grip on his cane. “Alright,” he agreed.

“Novastrike and I will head down now and get to work so we’re not all clustering down together at once. Wait a few jours before heading down. Have Infiltrator send me a ping or something discreet since they’ll probably be far more curious with what you’re doing anyway wandering around.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Nighthawk chuckled. “Looks like you might not have lost all your touch yet.”

“I should hope not,” the large mech sniggered. “I’m going to need all the craftiness I still have in me to pull us out of this one.”

Much to his surprise, Nighthawk reached out with his servo. He patted his on the shoulder lightly, offering a fierce nod as his optics blazed with determination.

“Well, you won’t be doing it alone. We’ll be pulling some of the weight too; don’t think this is all on you.”

“Thank you,” he rumbled deeply, nodding his helm. “I appreciate that.”

Turning his helm just enough, he flicked his optics over to Novastrike. She appeared somewhat worried by her gaze, but offered a smile of encouragement. The dark sapphire and softer baby blues of her optics shone with resolve as she nodded with agreement.

“Couldn’t say it better than Nighthawk,” she agreed. “We’ve got each others backs.”

“Well our hides are going to take a lashing if we’re not down in the mines bright and earlier,” he reminded her. “Megatron was not terribly pleased with previous performances.”

“Oh, you mean working earlier than requested and no benefits? Yeah, I know. He’s like a soul-sucking-”

“Nova,” Infiltrator warned.

She smiled innocently at the dragon, then Nighawk’s amused faceplate, and then turned back to Blackout.

His spark practically melted. Damn femme and her virtuous face; you could hardly place the blame on her for anything. Not that he was in disagreement at the moment anyway.

“Alright you,” he muttered, poking her side gently with his digit. “Let’s go before you decide to mouth off and get yourself in trouble.”

“Me?” she asked innocently while placing a servo to her chassis. “In trouble? But I never cause trouble.”

Choking as he tried to contain his laughter, Blackout bid a respectful nod to Nighthawk and Infiltrator. The medic seemed highly amused watching him try not to laugh, smirking deviously.

Placing a servo momentarily on top of Novastrike to muffle her, the Decepticon Hound left the med-bay, hearing Infiltrator’s chuckling as he left.

#quid pro quo au #OTP AU #OTP Lit #Cute OTP #OTP Friends

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aloserwithakeyboard · 8 years ago

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"Here's that sandwich you wanted."

There’s only an hour left. An hour of worried parents trying to find the classrooms that their students will sit in everyday, and asking for snacks once they give up. It’s back to school night and I’m the only kid willing to man the cafeteria station. I’m serving food and giving directions. And 2 hours in, I’m definitely understanding why nobody wanted this job. “Sweetheart, do you mind telling me how to get to room 403?” A woman with graying hair asks. “If you go to the top of the middle staircase, it’ll be the first classroom on the left.” I respond with the fake smile shared by every student volunteer who is still at school as the clock hands reach 8:00 pm. The woman walks away after thanking me and I sit down behind the table full of dinner foods and snacks. No one will care if I steal a brownie off the dessert tray, right? I deserve a brownie after dealing with all these clueless parents. Most of them have come to this at least once before and they still have no idea where any classroom is. Someone asked me what floor Trailer 3 was on. On the bright side, no one brought their kid to this, so now the parents are learning to actually read. That’s always a good sign. “What are the chances of a cute boy giving me one of those sandwiches?” I’d like to revoke my prior statement. Clearly, some idiot parent still need to learn to keep their children at home. “Somewhere around 5%,” I answer, “Why are you here, Josh?” The junior takes a second to flash a smile and sit down across from me before addressing the question. “Well, my dad couldn’t make it, but my little sister is going to be a freshman here this year and I wanted to make sure her teachers are decent. I’m supposed to be in Mr. Grant’s room right now, but I already now he’ll be cool with her because we had him last year. I figured, why not take this time to go say hi to my favorite person willing to volunteer at this stupid excuse of a school event? Why are you volunteering here, anyway?“ “Wait, slow down. Why is it so important for you to know your sister’s teachers?” I question. Josh doesn’t seem like the type of guy to come just for the sake of knowing his sister will have nice teachers. Josh shrugged. “Kailey is blind. I’m making sure her teachers will make the right accomadations and be good about the whole situation. I already have to have administration switch her English teacher because Smith doesn’t want to let her use audio or Braille books. I mean, what the hell? Does he just expect a blind student to magically be able to read in his class? It’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, so I walked out of his orientation and went over to Ms. Mell’s and she said she’d be happy to teach Kailey and make all necessary accomadations since I was such a pleasure to have in class.” Josh ranted. I scoffed at his last comment, but sobered up quickly. “You should report Smith, he can’t do that. It’s illegal. Mell’s class is a lot of fun, I’m sure your sister will love her. And to answer your earlier question, I’m here because I’m the only kid in our grade who is active in student government or cares in the slightest about our school.” “Well, you got that right, this place sucks ass,” Josh leans his arm onto the table, making us much closer together than we were before. “And so does SGA, everyone who’s on it just wants to pad their college resume a bit, they don’t actually care about what goes on at Ravena. And no one is going to do anything when Kailey’s teachers act intolerant just like no one did anything when Paige was being bullied, you know it, I know it, and we can’t even fix it.” Josh’s expression screamed of bitterness and frustration. Paige was what connected Josh and me. I knew them because our mom’s were friends in college. Josh and Paige played baseball together in middle school. Now, Josh and I were at Ravena High School, and Paige was… well, let’s just say not here. They had a hard time freshman year and their parents sent them to a different school. Josh won’t admit it to anyone, but you can tell he misses them horribly. I reached my hand out to squeeze his for reassurance. “Josh, SGA can’t fix that stuff, it’s up to administration. You know Paige is safer now.” “No, we don’t. When was the last time you heard from them. What if this doesn’t go well and we have to send Kailey to some special school? When will I hear from her again? How could I make sure she’s alright?” He kept one hand in mine and rested his head on the other. “Josh, listen to me. Kailey is going to be fine. If any teacher gives her shit, I will march down to their room and read the Disabilities Act to them word for word. We can make sure she’s safe here. I’ll ask Mrs. Levenson to call Paige’s school and ask if we can visit. Okay?” He looks like he’s about to cry and Lord knows I don’t need that right now. Especially since a bunch of parents are gonna come stampeding in to ask for directions to their next classroom in five minutes. Josh wipes his eyes before speaking up, “Thank you, that’d be nice.” He looks me in the eye, seemingly desperate to change the subject, “um, Danny?” “Yeah?” I inquire. He can’t have much to ask me about. We’re not that good of friends, I mean we both sit in the music room at lunch and we’ve had a few classes together. We used to hang out all the time together with Paige when they still stayed around here and after Paige first left he’d show up at my house and I’d show up at his, both of us visibly upset, as we’d lost our best friend. But, even that ended after we both got busy, it had been nice while it lasted, always having someone to talk to. “Um, well, I’m sorry if I’m overstepping with this question, but seeing as it’s after 8:00 pm, I feel like I kind of have to.” He pauses. This is making me kind of nervous, “What time did you put your binder on this morning?” I take my hand out of his and hunch my back. “Probably seven…” I mumble. “Danny, did you take it off afterschool? ” He looks genuinely concerned and it’s genuinely annoying. “No.” I reply staring at my lap while I twiddle my thumbs. “You know that’s not safe.” It feels like I’m being scolded. “I also know it’s none of your business.” I shoot back, “and you should probably be getting ready to meet your sister’s next teacher.” I try not to look at Josh when I hear him stand up from the cafeteria bench. The bell rings, signaling the transition of orientations and triggering the set of footsteps walking away from me and toward Kailey James’s period 3B class. The flood of confused parents makes it’s way to the cafeteria and I’m back to giving directions and handing out food. ••• I was really hoping I could make it out of back to school night without seeing Josh again. I almost made it, too. I had grabbed an extra sandwich from the leftover food in the cafeteria and started to walk out when I caught a glimpse of him. He saw me as soon as I saw him and now he’s making his way toward me. I make it to the bike rack where my bike sits before he catches up. I turn toward him as he starts to talk. “Danny, please talk to me.” “If you minded your own business a bit more maybe I would.” I say, unlocking my bike and pulling it in front of me. “I’m just worried about you,” I scoff and put my helmet on, but he jumps in front of my bike, “Danny, wait! I’m sorry, I just don’t want you to hurt yourself.” “Yeah, well, you don’t have to worry about me Josh. I’m a big boy now.” I mock. “That’s not what I’m saying, Danny. I care about you.” This is straight up pitiful. “No, you don’t. You cared when you thought I could be a replacement for Paige. When I seemed like a good alternative. You don’t actually care about anything that happens to me.” He reaches for my hand and I jerk away from him, horrorified. “I’m sorry,” He keeps trying to take my hand, “I’m sorry I kissed you this Summer. I didn’t mean to make you upset or anything like that. It’s just, you looked so-” “What? Pretty? Like Paige? I love how the one time you think it’s okay to kiss me is when my mother is parading me around in a dress. A dress that actually was a hand-me-down from Paige in case you were wondering. Their mom wanted them to start looking masculine again and my mother wants me to look feminine so I got the dress. I bet you really regretted it when I showed up to your house wearing a binder the next day. I wasn’t your prissy pink princess anymore. Sorry.” I glare at him, hoping it’s enough to get him to let me leave. “No, that’s not what it was at all. You looked out of place. You didn’t belong in the dress, and it was the first time I could tell. I knew you had some secret that you only talked to Paige about, I knew those clothing swaps you did every morning of freshman year wasn’t just for their benefit. They got whatever sweater or skirt your mom forced you in that day and you got their cargo shorts and oversized t-shirt. You were always happier after you changed. Every single time. I kissed you because you looked like you needed reassurance, nothing else. And I was happy when you showed up at my window in a binder, you looked like yourself. You looked handsome.” He tries to explain. “I don’t need your validation. I didn’t need anything from you, asshole. Now, get out of my way or I’ll run you over.” I grip the handlebars of my old bike, ready to peddle away as soon as he gives me the chance. "Fine. Just, please don't completely ignore me." He steps back from my bike and puts his hands up in surrender. "Here's that sandwich you wanted." I throw the leftover food at him and start to ride away. The soft laughter from Josh serves as audio for the beginning of my ride home. It's safe to say that was the quickest I've ever biked to my house.

#first chapter #ish #writing #ocs #lgbtq characters #trans character #gay characters #pan character #probably ace character #they come later #non binary character #they become more prominent later

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