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archangeldraws · 4 years ago

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Reunion

Since some were so interested in the story of King Ghidorah and their human Eva, this is their story. Please, enjoy (also give me feedback as I don’t usually write stories ^^)

A King Ghidorah fanfiction

Dorat AU

„Wake up. Come on Ni, wake up boy. Time for walkies!“ A soft voice rings through the air, tickling Ni's ear. The Dorat stirs, sleepily opening one eye and looking around the living room. “Come on Ni-Ni! Don't you want to go outside?” His gaze falls upon a young human girl, standing by the door, hastily putting on her shoes and leashes on two other Dorats like him. His brothers watch him, waiting for him to move. Ni yawns, stretching his golden wings and climbs off the comfortable couch he was sleeping on, trotting over to his master.

She smiles, putting a red collar and leash on the third Dorat, giving him a pet on his fluffy head. “Good boy. Lets go!”

It's a sunny day today, the air is crisp and fresh. It's spring! Eva, their little master, loves this season the most. And they love seeing her happy.

The walk is the same as always. Passing by the same houses, going down the same streets, towards the park.

The park is great. It's big, big enough to stretch their wings and fly around all they want and play.

San, the youngest Dorat loves visiting the park. He's always so eager, flapping up and down, back and forth, almost crashing into his brothers and trilling happily.

Unlike their older brother Ichi, who glides gracefully through the air, looking down on all the passerby.

At the park, Eva lets her Dorats fly free and unzips her backpack, pulling out their toys, a blanket and some drinks and snacks.

Everything is great. They play, enjoy the sunshine and food. Master brought those fish crackers they like.

Ni is chasing another Dorat, a brown one, around the park. That one dared to take a toy! That thief! That one will pay!

A shriek pierces the air, disrupting the chase. Perplexed, Ni looks back. Master?

He watches in horror as a dog, a filthy beast, is attacking Eva. That thing dares to harm HIS MASTER?!

In a rage Ni races towards that monster, flying as fast as he can, not stopping for a second. He doesn't even notice Ichi and San also trying to get in between the girl and the dog.

Ni crashes into the foul beast, bearing his teeth and snarling. The thing yelps, rolling on the ground after the collision. The Dorat, though a bit smaller than the wild dog, put himself between the animal and the girl.

San and Ichi stay with Eva, hissing and screeching angrily, not moving from her side as she weeps and cries in pain, a puddle of blood already forming around her leg on the ground.

Ni growls, daring the dog to move. Do it! Come on! I'll tear you limp from limp!

Not that the dog would have understood it anyway.

In a flash the animal was upon Ni, biting and snapping at him. But Ni isn't afraid. All he sees is red. He bites and claws at it, chomping down on the beasts neck and shaking violently. Ni himself gets thrown around, bitten and scratched. It doesn't matter. He doesn't even feel it. Ni snaps at the soft neck of his opponent, biting and shaking him over and over. The dog screams, letting go of the smaller Dorat and jumps back. In a defiant stance, Ni stays between it and the girl. He growls. And finally his enemy yields and runs.

“NI! OH MY GOD! NIII!! NO!”

Ni turns, Eva approaches him with a limp and she wraps her arms around him.

“Ni! You're hurt! Oh my god, your ear! Your eye!”

A few hours later, Ni wakes up again. Was it a dream? He is in his bed, but something is blocking his view. Why can't he open his left eye? What is that thing?

“Be still, brother. Don't move. You need to heal.” Who is that? Oh, right. It's Ichi. Ichi looks down from his spot at the wall. He likes sitting there. San comes rushing to Ni's side, gently grooming him in a comforting manner. “Are you ok? That fight was really bad! You were lucky you didn't lose your eye, Ni!”

Fight? Oh, yes. Right. That dog. But, what about Eva? Is she ok? Ni looks around the bedroom, trying to see past that weird, round thing around his head. There she is. On the bed. “Ni. You're awake? I'm so glad you're ok!” She smiles, walking towards him and petting him, carefully stroking his back fur.

“The vet said you were really lucky! That dog almost got your eye with it's teeth. But your ear wasn't as lucky, half of it is missing.... Oh Ni, you were so brave! Thank you! I was so scared!”

She quivers, wiping off the tears from her soft, round face.

“You're my hero!”

Ni, not wanting to see her cry leans into her small hand and purrs reassuringly.

“You were hurt.” “It's ok, my leg is better now. Don't worry, everything is ok now. See?” She grins, showing hims her bandaged leg. “Rest now. You'll get a big treat later, ok? You're a good boy, Ni. I love you”

I love you

I love you....

Ni groans, opening his eyes and stretching his long, powerful neck. Groggily he looks around, spotting his brothers by his side. They've curled up around each other, still sleeping.

As always. Ni, first one to wake up and last one to fall asleep. He hates sleeping. Not sure when it started, but it's been a long time. Sleep brings dreams, memories he'd rather not see.

And now he has to wait for Ichi and San to wake. He sighs, keeping look out. Ni isn't known for being the patient one, but he can be. Not that he has much of a choice. It's not like he could just, get up and walk around. Not anymore. He could wake Ichi. A good bunt in the head would do. But that would also mean getting bit in the snout and right now he wasn't in the mood for a fight. Usually, yeah. But not right now.

His mood was too sour for that.

“Good morning Ni!” San has risen from his slumber and yawns, stretching and rubbing his head against his big brother in a greeting. “Did you sleep well?” Ni sighs. “Same as usual. You?” “Uhm.... I guess so. Got enough sleep at least.”

Ni wasn't the only one plagued by bad memories. San's weren't just memories. They were nightmares. Nightmares that had happened.

Sometimes the youngest brother would wake up screaming and thrashing during the night, begging to be “let out” and biting if you came too close. Ichi and Ni would have to subdue him together, just until the left head would calm down again.

Poor guy had been through a lot. They all have been. But it seems fate has been more cruel to the younger one. He had lost his head, quite literally, many times. Each time he lost more and more of his happy go lucky attitude, if only slowly.

But since that fat lizard had ripped him off last.... They know the memories. They weren't there, but San shared what had happened to him with them, after they reformed that last time.

Last time.... Was the worst. Things are a bit confusing, since they regenerated from a dead head, from a brain that had been dead for some time. They knew their old version had fought on, but their memories stopped after San's death, only to resurface once the humans did something to his brain, feeding him with the energy needed to come back to life.

They know of the pain and fear San had endured, being nothing but a thought in his own mind. Again. Again humans tried to control them, their minds, making them their toys!

But San didn't share everything with them, that they knew... Or they would know of the things he dreamed about and woke from, screaming for help.

They also heard what had happened to their old self. That that one was completely destroyed by the “King” of the monsters, with the help of his Queen.

It is weird to know that you did something, without being there yourself... Never before have they been.... two Ghidorahs. Can they even call it that? Are they themselves even real? Or just a copy?

They know each time a head dies, it grows back with all it's memories. But there had never been a time where.... They had to regenerate their whole being. Until now....

Ichi wakes, shifting and yawning before looking at San and Ni.

“How long have you two been awake?” “Oh hey Ichi, good morning. Not long yet. How was your night?” San smiles at the middle head, greeting him like he greeted Ni with a head rub.

“Luckily, uneventful. Full night rests have become rare” “Yeah.... sorry about that.” “Don't be, San. It's not your fault... Well, now that we're up, let's get out of here. I need some fresh air.”

With that, Ghidorah rose to their feet and walked out of the cave they had carved themselves some time ago. After they had regenerated, they had traveled the world for a while, not knowing what to do with themselves. They were thinking of going after Godzilla again, but..... They were just tired. So they made themselves a small home, if you could call it that, on monster island. They had made an agreement with Godzilla. While they would never yield and submit to him, they promised to stay out of his way and leave the humans alone. As long as they didn't destroy anything, they could be at piece.

Or at least by left alone. And the other Titans did leave them alone.

Wherever they went, the other Kaiju would run and hide. No one dared to try and talk with them.

Except for Godzilla, who would sometimes pass by and check if they still hold their part of the deal.

Sometimes Rodan would come and try to talk with them. That firebird is a huge chatterbox.

Right now Ghidorah made their way down the mountain they had made their cave in, living high above the others, where they had a good view over the island.

“Brothers, look there. A boat” Ni and Ichi look towards the sea, where San was pointing at. “Ugh, humans.... Those pests. They better not think about stepping on this island!” “Calm down brother. What do we care what they do? As long as they leave us alone, I don't give a crap.” Ichi snorts, moving their body down and to the other side of the mountain.

They walk towards a lake and San has a little drink. They don't really NEED to drink and eat, but it's a nice treat and it gives them something to do. One of the few things they can still enjoy, since destroying and conquering is now off the table. At least for now.

Ni looks at his reflection. It's him. But it's also not.

Gone is the round face and the big eyes, gone is the little snout and ears. Gone is the fur on his head and back.

Instead there is a long, strong snout, filled with rows of sharp teeth. His eyes are beady and red and his head adorned with jagged horns, sharp and deadly. Everything on them is sharp and deadly.

But the scar is still there.

He remembers, like in his dream. The scar that made him unique, a hero in that little girl's eyes.

But she's gone now, long dead.

Why is the scar still there? They can heal. And it was gone. But he made it again. For some reason, even though he wants to forget.... He scars himself over and over again, each time it heals, he takes one of their spiked tails to his face and draws blood. He's done it many time, he knows exactly where to cut, how to cut it. Each time a perfect copy.

And his horn. The second horn on the left, he always breaks it off. Where half his ear used to be.

Ichi keeps a look out, watching the smaller kaiju hiding in the shadows of the trees, waiting for them to leave and have a drink.

As they should. Useless lot, they are beneath them. Look at them quivering, shaken to their very core by their fear, Ghidorah's presence almost crushing them like little worms.

Ichi has always enjoyed looking down on others. Since he was a cup, he'd find the highest places and sit there, watching the others. He's always been more cruel than his brothers, that's just who he is. Not that he doesn't know how to be compassionate. He loves his brothers.

Sure, he reprimands them often, especially Ni, as he likes to act up and square off with Ichi.

But he still cares. And he'd do anything to protect them.

Once he cared for someone else. A little someone, though bigger than them at the time, but so small and fragile.

Somehow she made him want to protect her. To love her. And he did. He loved and protected and cared and vowed to stay forever-.... Until forever was over.

Gone were the good days, the days filled with happiness and love and care. Replaced with fear and pain and numbness instead.

They were like her. But they were not like her. Not soft and sweet and loving and warm. No high voices carrying nothing but goodness to his ear but instead, cries and screams and yells of malice and horror and the stench of rotting flesh and dry blood.

Their new “masters” were nothing like her. They never gave them the feeling of being safe. Only fear. Only pain. Only rage!

And then.... Nothing. Sleep without dreams, dreams without sleeping. Moving but unmoving.

Pain but no feeling.

And then they woke up. They woke at a cold place, nothing but ice and piercing cold and blinding white. No humans in sight. No... Her..... Alone. They were alone. And they were one.

They knew they were, have been for long. But now that they were awake, it was strange. Having to learn how to move again.

And the urge.... The urge to.... kill... destroy.... It was ebbed into their mind so deep, into their very core.... All they could think about was “Find Godilla. Kill him. Destroy him. Kill. Destroy. Kill. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy destroy destroy destroydestroydestroyde-....”

The thought was still there, once jackhammering in their head, now a soft drumming... They had found Godzilla. But that one was not the same they knew now. That one fought long and hard, made them weak and trapped them in the ice, where they had awoken the first time. And they slept.

And now.... The same thing. They found Godzilla, a different one, fought and lost again. Were killed this time and somehow they came back.

You'd think knowing that you were able to cheat death like this would make you stronger, would make you want to try again.... And maybe they will, one day. But now they're just tired....

“Hello?.... Are you there?” They look up. “Yes? What is it?” San looks to Ichi. “I didn't call you.” They look at Ni. “Wasn't me” “Can you hear me?”

Confused they look around. Was it one of them? One of the small ones hiding in the shadows?

“What do you want?” Ichi growls at the trees and the little kaiju skitter away quickly.

“It's me. I'm here.”

“Who the fuck is calling us?! Who is it?” They stand and Ni snarls and snaps at nothing.

“Come to me. I'm here. Are you there?”

“What the fuck?” Ichi grows more and more irritated, looking around but seeing no one.

“Come find me. Were you waiting?”

“Ichi.... I think it's coming from there.” San points back at the ocean again. Is it a water Titan? Manda perhaps?

“I swear if that snake is out making a fool of us then we'll have it for breakfast!”

“Good idea Ichi, sound delicious!”

They follow the voice, down to the shore. They don't see Manda, but the human boat is still there.

“Ohoh, it's the humans! It must be them. Of course. Why am I not surprised?”

“Wouldn't be the first time, Ni.” “Should we kill them?” “We can't, Godzilla-” “I know San, I know! But he never said we can't defend ourselves. If they try to attack us, it's free game!”

“My sweets....” They freeze. What did they just call them? No one ever called them that but-... No. No, she's gone.

“Can't you hear me? Please answer me. Remember our promise? I promised I'd come find you”

No... No, no no no, no! It's not true! This is a trick! They are tricking us!

San leans closer, looking down at the boat and the humans on board.

“Ichi... Ni... San.... Do you remember me?”

They stare. They stare at the human woman with the dark hair and eyes. The eyes they know, the eyes they only see in their dreams.

“It's her!” Sam rears ups, shocked and confused. It's her. She's back! She's come!

“Ichi, Ni, it's her! It's her! Master!” “NO! Get a grip San, it isn't!” Ichi roars, staring down at San. “This is a trick, clearly!”

“But-”

Ichi doesn't believe, doesn't trust. Ni wants to believe, wants to trust. San believes, San trusts.

San bends down again, trying to reach the boat, he needs to see her, smell her, touch her. “Master!”

“NO!” Ichi snaps, he grabs San by the scruff of his neck and pulls him away. They stagger, their body, twitching. The heads fight.

Middle tries to dominate left, biting and power grooming him into submission. Usually San would yield, but not this time. He rises, roaring at his brother in fury.

“STOP IT ICHI! It is her, I know it!”

“IT CAN'T BE SAN, SHE IS DEAD!” They are torn apart, feeling an array of feelings.

Yes! No! Want! Don't! Believe! Fear! Trust! Rage! Can't be! It is!

“STOP!!”

They stop. Ichi and San look at Ni. He glares at them. Is this what happens when they see a glint of what had been? It tears them apart just like this? How weak have they become, how low have they fallen?

“Brothers.... Please.... Who else could talk with us like that?” San pleads at Ichi and Ni, lowering his head. His eyes displaying nothing but sadness.

“Our connection is still there... After all this time, all those years our link is still strong. Who else but her could speak with us? Who else knows the names she gave us?”

All three heads turn to look back at the boat. The humans, pointing their weak little weapons at them, stare, waiting for them to move.

Except the woman. She stands at the railing, tears in her eyes, her face contorted as if in pain.

“Please, don't fight... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I couldn't protect you. I promised you, remember? That I would find you, no matter what. I said I would come. And I am here now, my sweets.... Please forgive me....”

She cries. No humans ever cried for them but....

“Eva...?”

Her head snaps back up so fast, you could almost hear it crack. Ghidorah leans down towards the boat, all three heads until their noses almost touch it.

They look at her. The face, the scar of the dog bite on her leg. The way she smiles. They smell her.

Like spring. She smells like spring. Like her favorite season. And fish crackers. She reaches out, placing her soft, small hand on Ichi's snout and smiles that smile that sings of love and happy memories.

“I'm sorry.... Did you wait long?”

#King Ghidorah #King Ghidorah fanfiction #Dorat #Dorat AU #King Ghidorat #King Ghidorah Dorat AU #Human OC #King Ghidorah and Eva #My headcanon #King Ghidorah backstory #King Ghidorah backstory Dorat AU #Fluff #Angst

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ficsilike-reblogged · 5 years ago

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Sunshine City: One

A/N: Thank you to everyone who liked the prologue. You’re all very, very kind. I hope you continue to like this story. SO! Fun fact, my computer glitched and deleted this chapter and the next chapter for Blood in the Rivers AND the next chapter for my Din fic over on Ao3. Yeah. It was a good time.

Pairing: (Eventual) Agent Whiskey x F!Reader (No Y/N)

Word Count: 3.4k

New York glittered when the sun hit it just right. Light bounced from one skyscraper to the next and made the mess of glass and metal and stone shine like a puddle of diamonds. Of course, that was only true if you were sixty stories up.

It had been three years since she’d joined Statesmen. Three years of being shot at by cartoon-like henchmen and nearly poisoned by a man who definitely twirled his mustache. It had been a wild ride. She’d swapped her usual glock for suitcases that fired missiles, her usual pant suit for a pair of jeans and a blazer, and her name for a stupid code word. Their given names didn’t exist anymore, really. She wasn’t even sure she’d answer to it if she heard it on the street.

She was Capri Sun—the sugar filled silver pouch juice that American kids slurped up like it was crack on a hot summer day. And she would only admit on threat of death that she enjoyed the juice drink, too. A sinking feeling had her thinking Champagne knew about her proclivity for the childhood juice. The code-name in and of itself denoted her status as a field agent and her lack of presence at the “high table” where everyone had taken their monikers from alcohol. The paperwork of being higher-ranking put her off ever trying to achieve it. But yes, Capri-Sun. Most called her ‘Cap’ for short.

But some…

“Sunny!”

She turned away from her window to face Agent Whiskey, her boss and general terror of her existence. “Yes, boss.” It wasn’t even surprising that he’d let himself in to her office. That had stopped being a shock about two months into her new employment.

He sauntered up to her, hips cocked to the side as he stopped. His ridiculous Stetson was still on his head and he looked out her window, too. “Still enjoying the view?”

“It never gets old.” She stepped away from the window and his side and settled into her high-backed chair behind her desk. “What do you need?” He chuckled and dragged his fingers across her desk as he made his way toward one of the chairs on the other side. His legs were spread and she absolutely did not look below the belt of his too-tight jeans. Nope. Absolutely not. “I sent in my report for that Milan job. Did you have questions?”

His large hand scrubbed at his jaw before he leaned forward. “You’ve been with Statesmen for three years, Sunny.”

“Yes, I can read a calendar.”

His smile grew. “Then you know what today is.”

“Friday.”

“And?” He tilted his head to the side, dark eyes sparkling.

“And I’m leaving the office in 42 minutes.”

His smile fell the slightest bit. “Three years is a long time for a Statesmen, Sunny. Let me and the rest of the crew take you out for a few drinks to celebrate.”

She looked at him, watching his smile fade just a bit more with each passing second, before answering. “No.”

“Well, why not? You never come out with us.”

“I don’t drink, boss. You should know that with how many times I’ve told everyone in this building.” She leaned back in her chair, gut twisting. “But thank you for the offer.”

His smile was still present as he slapped his knees before rising to his feet. “You know, one day, I’m going to get you to have some fun with the rest of us.”

“Okay, boss,” she said to his retreating back, tone bordering on placating.

“I mean it!” He shouted over his shoulder. “You need to let loose, Sunny!” Whiskey stopped and turned just on the other side of her doorway. “And I’d love to see it happen.” He then walked away, tight jeans and all.

It was only when she heard the elevator doors close did she let out her breath, long and slow.

Agent Whiskey was the terror of her life, that was true. He was gorgeous and kind and flirty—and a good boss to boot. But he also fucked anything with tits and had no qualms about it. More than once, she’d caught him with his tongue down some mark’s throat when she was supposed to be keeping an eye out for any henchmen—or nosey husbands. He obviously knew what he was doing. The dazed, hungry look that his conquests always sported after spending an ounce of time with him was one hell of an indicator.

It would be a lie to say that she hadn’t thought about how it would feel for him to kiss her, to hold her, to fuck her. But she’d seen firsthand what workplace romances, especially in a field as volatile as international espionage, could reap.

She also knew of Whiskey’s tragedy. Ginger Ale had softly whispered it when she had seen the moon-eyes Sunny had made at her boss when he wasn’t looking.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Cap.”

And that had been it, really.

She could keep him at a distance and still do her job. She could be a professional. She’d been trained to suppress her emotions to manipulate others and complete missions. This would be the same. She was here to help save the world from the shadows—not fuck her boss. The feelings would fade, right?

Well, it had been two and a half years since she’d noticed how his eyes sparkle and she still hadn’t fully recovered.

Her overall-prickly disposition hadn’t changed. That was just who she was. And she wasn’t sure if she would be able to change it even if she wanted to—she just hated how Whiskey seemed to see it as a challenge. She also hated that Whiskey continually rejected Ginger Ale as a possible member of the “high table” of the agency. She was strong, capable, and smart as hell. Ginger deserved to be sitting at the table as much as any other stupid-Stetson-wearing man.

She turned in her chair and looked out over the city again. Watched it sparkle. Yes. It was a beautiful view.

The door to her apartment squeaked when she opened it and the happy tap-tap-tap of paws against her wood flooring had a smile pushing at her lips. Her corgi, Bela, trotted into view. When he spotted her, he bounded over to her and stood on his hind legs and pressed his front paws against her jeans in welcome. She scooped him up into her arms and pressed a kiss to his one remaining ear, a sign of his puppyhood as a stray. “Hi, baby,” she murmured into his fur. She carried him into the kitchen and set him on the counter and he promptly sat down and waited for what he knew was coming. She pulled his bowl from the cabinet and his bag of food, too. The kibbles rang out as they hit the ceramic and his little stump of a tail wagged happily as she pushed the bowl in front of him. He ate as she put a bowl of veggie fried rice into the microwave for a few minutes. When it was finished, she hopped up on the counter and ate next to Bela.

“Long day?” She asked through bites of food.

Bela snorted at her before returning to his dinner.

“Yeah, me too.”

A knock at her door made her frown for the umpteenth time that day and she slid off the counter and set her fork in the sink before tossing the empty paper bowl into the trash on the way to the door. She peered through the peephole before swinging the door open.

“Pushing your luck today, boss.” She stepped back and let him in. “You know I’m a stickler for my weekends.” Especially when she’d just come back from a week-long stint in a different country.

He walked in and looked around just as he’d done every other time he’d invited himself over. “There’s a dog on your counter, Sunny.”

“He likes to feel tall when he’s eating.” She pushed the door closed and crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you need?”

“Champ called.”

Y/N groaned. “I just got back.”

“Well, that’s the beauty of it: your bags are already packed.” He smiled. “And I’m coming with you.”

She resisted the urge to sigh. “Where to now, boss?”

His smile widened. “Vegas.”

Las Vegas did not glitter like New York did. It was a buzz of neon lights in an array of harsh colors. And it smelled like stale beer cooked into the asphalt.

They landed a little before ten that night and the city was still very-much alive. She’d lost count of how many people she’d shoved out of her way on the walk from the hotel’s parking lot to the front entrance and she’d batted away more people handing out flyers for hookers than she wanted to admit.

She hated this city.

Homegrown terrorism was the New York office’s specialty and the group they were tracking had their fingers in lots of pots; drug trafficking, assassinations, kidnappings, and plots to use nuclear waste to create dirty bombs. They’d already tested one bomb off the coast of South Carolina. It had been a dud, thankfully, but still did enough for Statesmen to take notice. The goal of the terrorist group was to create a new world order with women firmly at the bottom.

The mission was supposed to be fairly simple—simple for a Statesmen, anyway. They needed to stop the group from obtaining any of the nuclear waste the US government had stored outside the city limits. There had been a tip that a sale was going to happen the next night between the terrorists and the suppliers and the goal, overall, was to get both groups off the streets. By any means necessary.

She and Whiskey were booked into a hotel suite across the street from where the targets were staying and had settled in for a bit of surveillance. The gadgets Statesmen had created were so much better than she could have ever dreamed of using in the CIA. Even something as benign as binoculars had been developed into something she had only seen in sci-fi movies—and she would never cease to be amazed by it—quietly, of course.

“Well, they look the type,” she muttered as she looked at the targets through the binoculars—three white guys with stained white t-shirts. One of them even had “Cool story, girl. Go make me a sandwich” written across his chest. She handed Whiskey the binoculars with a shake of her head.

He looked through them and chuckled. “Oh yeah.” He set the binoculars down and turned to her. “Is that what the kids call a ‘neckbeard’?”

She choked on her spit and earned a thump on the back from her boss. “Um, yes. Those are neckbeards.” She cleared her throat. “Are you trying to learn new slang?”

“World’s changing, Sunny. I should at least try to keep up.”

The familiar compulsion to smile pulled at her lips but she snuffed it out, as she always did with Whiskey. She wanted to smile with him, laugh with him. Wanted to talk with him about what he’d seen out in the field and through the years at Statesmen. But she was sure it would only lead to more conflicted feelings about the man. So, she bottled it away.

Whiskey yawned.

“I’ll take the first shift. Get some sleep.” She pulled the binoculars out of his grip.

“That wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me, Sunny.”

“Good thing you don’t have to be a gentleman with me—” She quickly froze, hearing how those words sounded. “I mean. You’re my boss. J-just go get some sleep, boss.” He chuckled as he looked at her, the familiar low sound making her stomach twist and the familiar butterflies rage.

“You sure?” He asked and rose from his seat near the window. The artificial light bleeding into their room bathed him in blue, making him look like some old-time movie star. His smile was soft but she could see the tiredness ringing his eyes. It was the one thing he’d never been able to hide.

“Yeah. Our intel said they shouldn’t be trying to make the purchase until tomorrow anyway. Just don’t snore and I won’t have to kill you.”

“Fine, Sunny. You win this round. Wake me three hours.” He smiled again as she nodded and his fingers curled around her shoulder and squeezed in thanks before he walked toward the separate bedroom their suite provided and closed the door behind him.

She looked at the door for a moment and then turned and raised the binoculars again.

A few minutes trickled by and she could hear him snoring through the door. She almost smiled.

Hours ticked by. The targets were getting blown and doing blow. Classy. Her watch beeped as it reached 3AM and she mulled over just letting Whiskey sleep for the night. She slept on the plane but knew he didn’t—he never did on commercial flights. But she knew she needed to get at least a few hours of sleep if she wanted to be productive tomorrow so she tip-toed over to the bedroom and opened the door. A sliver of light creeped through the room to show Whiskey sprawled across the bed in just a t-shirt and boxers. The rest of his clothing was neatly folded on the bedside table. His face was scrunched into scowl and he turned one way and then the other as the sheets were gripped tight in his fists.

“No…” He muttered through clenched teeth. “No!”

Nightmares were not anything new for her or any other professional in their field. The horrors of their job are bound to leave a mark no matter how well a mission is done and lives are saved. Maybe it would be kinder to wake him…

Slowly, she reached out and grasped his wrist and shook it a bit.

He didn’t move.

She shook him a bit more but then gave up and grimaced, thinking of what she should try next. A traitorous memory of her mother waking her up by gently brushing the backs of her fingers against her cheek came to mind and her own-tired brain thought she might as well try it. She sat on the edge of the bed and brushed her fingers against his cheek with a quiet, “Whiskey.”

The speed in which his eyes opened and he sat up and wrapped his hands around her throat as he pinned her to the mattress would have been impressive she didn’t feel her air being cut off in the perfect stranglehold. The mint from his toothpaste and the last traces of his expensive cologne brushed against her nose. His eyes were hard but unfocused as he stared at her. And she would blame the shiver that racked her spine on fear and not on the tight coiling in her belly. Maybe this job had actually messed her brain up. But being strangled wasn’t exactly a new sensation and the man strangling her was still her boss.

“Whiskey.” The name was pushed out against his grip, rasping in her throat. She raised her hands and gently held his face. It was a common technique to give the other person a grounding sensation, to continue to wake them up as their mind waffled between their nightmare and reality. “It’s just me, boss.” His tired eyes focused and he immediately dropped his hold, sitting upright with his knees still bracketing her thighs. Her hands dropped from his face, the scruff of his unshaved face catching against her palms.

“Jesus, Sun. I’m so sorry.” He lumbered off her as she sat up and curled into himself, pressing the heel of his palm against his brow. “Fuck.” He turned toward her and brushed her hair away from her neck with shaking fingers. His hands were warm and the pads of his fingers trailed against her neck and the simple touches stole the breath from her lungs for the second time that night. All of her training, all of her careful interactions, and planning to keep him at arm’s length evaporated as he traced touched her so gently. Whiskey’s touch was soft and deliberate, almost reverent as he brushed against her pulse point, feeling it steadily beat. And that seemed to not be enough for him because his touch slipped away before he gently grasped at the back of her neck and dragged her close, pressing his forehead against hers.

She had dreamed of holding him close like this, close and soft and unburdened by the woes of the world. But there was still a dull throbbing around her neck. And she knew the terrors that plagued his resting mind—they were the same as hers. An ache that settled in her bones when she realized that this was too close. Too close to the pipedream she’d concocted like a lovesick teenager. Too close to something she would never have. But she couldn’t pull out of his hold. “I caught you off guard during a mission. My fault.”

He nudged his nose against hers and her entire chest seemed to clench. His eyes closed and an unsteady breath brushed against her lips. Whiskey held her there for a little while and she felt his heartrate start to slow. And that was when she pulled back.

His dark eyes were unreadable and he turned to throw his legs over the edge of the bed. It was almost ridiculous how cold she felt when he stood. “It’s okay, boss. Really.”

He huffed as he pulled on his jeans. “It’s not fine. It’s… It just isn’t okay.”

While it was impressive to see him wiggle into his tight jeans and she definitely filed the image away for later, she couldn’t help but notice how his shoulders remained slumped. The usually vivacious Whiskey was refusing to meet her eye.

“I’ll wake you up around seven.”

Before she could stop herself, she reached out and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “Whiskey. Look at me.”

It took him a moment, but he did.

“I’m fine. Everything is okay.”

He pulled out of her grasp only to grab her hand and press a kiss against her palm.

“You’re too good to me, Sunny.” He squeezed her hand again before letting it drop. “Get some sleep.” He left the room without a glance back and the door clicked softly in its frame.

“Fuck,” she whispered to herself. “Fuck.” She pulled off her shoes and jeans and angrily settled into the bed he’d just vacated. Why had she gone and tried to comfort him? He was her boss. Just her boss. She repeated it over and over again to try to tell herself that it was true.

But the pillow smelled like him.

The buy was supposed to happen at a club inside The Mirage. She’d slipped into a slinky dress and heels and stashed her gun and small knife on her thighs with Statesmen-issued garters and fixed her hair and makeup to blend in with the crowd she knew would be filling the dance floor. She looked good, she knew she did. And that was the reason behind the slight spring in her step as she exited the bathroom. Whiskey had pulled on yet-another pair of dark wash jeans and a dark blue button-down that stretched across his chest in an almost obscene sort of way and she had to actively fight to not swallow hard.

“You look like a glass of water on a summer day, Sunny.”

“That’s probably the most coherent metaphor you’ve ever come up with, boss. I actually understood that one.”

He smiled and grabbed for his Stetson before she slapped his hand.

“We’re in Vegas. No Stetson.”

He sighed dramatically but didn’t move for it again. “Fine, fine.”

She grabbed the binoculars off the table and looked out toward the targets’ room across the street to make sure they hadn’t left just yet. What she saw made her pause. She lowered the binoculars and turned toward her boss.

“What is it?” All traces of his smile faded from his face and he took the binoculars from her loosening grasp.

She watched him look through the binoculars and frown before he turned to her. His mouth opened and closed without a sound coming out. So, she said it: “They’re turning blue.”

A/N: So, please let me know what you think!

Beautiful people who asked to be tagged: @spookyold-saintjm @honestlystop @paryl @fioccodineveautunnale

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels #kingsman: the golden circle

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ribcage-rodents · 4 years ago

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Post two

Diana

Diana smiled indulgently resting a hand on Donna’s shoulder.

“Hello Donna, it is wonderful to see you again, I have some exciting news.”

Donna

She fidgeted awkwardly trying to act like she hadn't been eavesdropping.

Diana

“You are finally going to see the Man’s World. Go pack your bags, we will leave once you say your goodbyes. We can discuss the rules of your mission in my plane.”

Her excitement was only shown by the joyful flash in her eyes.

Donna attempted to keep her face in a soft smile with her eyes telling her emotions

much like her older sister does, as she made her way towards her home.

Scene 6

Bruce sat at the kitchen counter a cup of steaming coffee in one hand, while his face rested heavily in the other.

Alfred

Alfred curved around Bruce to top off his drink and use a rag to clean up a puddle of coffee Bruce had spilled while complaining about League business.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just let the boy have friends, master Bruce.”

Bruce

Bruce looked up exasperated from where his face was resting.

“Because Dick is more skilled and intelligent than all of those other ‘heroes’. I don’t want him to be influenced by those immature, idiotic, side kicks. Who knows what one of those older kids could encourage him to do!? He’s much safer at home.”

He said moving his hand sharply to the left spilling coffee all over the counter.

Alfred sighed deeply moving to clean up the coffee, sending Bruce a disapproving stare while he sheepishly averted his gaze. Dick was upstairs in his beautiful, pink-marbled bathroom leaning over the counter worriedly applying concealer to purple bruises on his neck as Tate Agile played in the background, he stopped for a moment to read to a text from ‘science lab partner’.

Dick

“Come on dude, it's not that big of a deal Bs never gonna know”

Dick sighed becoming even more concerned, he glanced in the mirror frowning at his reflection before replying.

“Idk Babs, I’d be in a ton of trouble if B found out”

He stared at his phone for a couple of seconds then added,

“Especially since you’re like a little too old for me”

Dick’s hand squeezed around his phone as he shut his eyes, he counted to ten silently before exhaling. Pretending he wasn’t waiting for her response he went back to covering up the bruises on his neck, despite his eyes flicking back over to the black screen every couple of seconds.

Yet when the phone finally pinged he hesitated, it wasn't until the second text arrived that he actually answered.

“No, our age difference really isn’t that big, if you think about it people get married with like a 10 year diff.”

“Are you gonna come out w me tonight?”

Dick sighed softly, his cheeks lighting up pink.

“Yeah I got some free time around 12-2am. But we’re just gonna hang out ok, just like a little bit of kissing. No making out or hickies or anything.”

His phone pinged again.

“Haha yeah sure that's what you said last time.”

“What's up w your schedule man? 12-2am is so random.”

“You might not need sleep but I do, next time we should just meet up during like second period or something.”

Dick’s frown deepened.

“I’m not skipping school. I think you’re a bad influence on me:(“

“You know we don’t have to do anything when we meet up we could just cuddle or something.”

He paused before deleting the last message.

“Ha, maybe I like making you into a bad boy”

“See you tonight, maybe I’ll make you break into the school to find the best secret makeout place!”

Dick set his phone face down, scratching at his arm he went back to covering up those bruises.

Scene 7

Wally was in his tiny little bathroom that looks like it was designed in the 1950’s. He was leaning over the tiled blue and turquoise countertop messing with his forever windswept hair. There was a loud banging at the door as Wally dragged a brush through the birdsnest on top of his head.

Wally

There was a brief pause before Wally once again dragged the brush through his messy hair. The banging returned causing Wally to jerk smacking his hand against the counter, he turned and opened the door staring annoyed at his uncle.

“What?”

Barry

Barry stared back a pleased smirk on his face leaning against the door frame.

“Come on kiddo, we’re gonna be late.”

He reached out and plucked the brush from Wally’s hand as he spoke.

Wally

Wally did a full body groan leaning back, he shot one last mournful look at himself in the mirror before he moved towards the door, his uncle disappearing into his room. Wally sighed rummaging through his room for his suit. “What's the point of having super speed if you’re gonna be late to everything?”

Barry

Barry zipped over to his nephew ruffling his hair, effectively ruining any improvement Wally had managed.

“I ask myself the same question everyday when I show up late for work.”

Flying down the streets of central the two speedsters made haste, two flashes of red and yellow sped down the streets and around buildings. Stopping quickly at a hotdog vendor, handing the man a red credit card decorated with tiny lightning bolts, the city's way of thanking the heroes. Before getting back on the road.

Flash

“So kiddo, are ya nervous?”

Flash called stuffing a whole hot dog in his mouth.

Kidflash

Kidflash made a contemplative noise, looking down at his feet.

“Well yeah, I’m not exactly good at making friends,... or being cool.”

Both speedsters came to a halt, Kidflash resumed looking down self-deprecatingly, shoving the last 12 hotdogs into his mouth. Flash slipped behind him resting a hand on his shoulder.

Flash

“Don’t worry kiddo, just be yourself they’re gonna love you!”

He punctuated his statement by ruffling his nephew’s hair one last time. The two then proceeded, one at a time to enter the transporter.

Scene 8

Kidflash stepped into the JL headquarters quickly moving to catch up with his uncle as he sped towards the monitor room.

Flash

“Welcome to the Justice League break room!”

Flash called happily swinging his arms open to fully display the room. He leaned in close,

“It used to just be the monitor room but we all started to hang around here, mostly because Wonder Woman and Supes like to annoy Bats.”

He said with a nod.

Wonder Girl sat alone on the edge of one of the ugly green couches, sipping on a mug of herbal tea periodically.

Flash

Flash bumped his shoulder against Kidflash’s, whispering an encouraging,

“You got this kiddo!”

The Flash then departed, walking over towards Batman and Wonder Woman chatting by the supercomputer both holding steaming cups of coffee.

Kidflash

Taking a deep breath and gathering all his courage Kidflash confidently strided over to where Wonder Girl was perched. Looming over her he plastered on his best ‘Wall-man’ smirk. Wonder Girl cocked a single eyebrow as a supercilious look settled on her lips.

“Hey gorgeous, I hope you brought your library card because you can totally check me out!”

He flinched expecting to be hit or splashed by her tea.

Wonder Girl

“Wow, I’m already regretting this,”

Wonder Girl huffed glaring at Kidflash

“Maybe I should’ve stayed home,”

She mumbled quietly to herself.

Speedy

Speedy came up behind Kf’s right purposely smacking their shoulders together before plopping down on the couch causing Wonder Girl’s tea to slosh spilling over the rim and roll down the side of her thigh.

“Ew, dude have you ever actually gotten a girl with that line?”

He asked his arms resting on the top of the couch. He then raised his hand in a halting motion.

“Nevermind don't answer that, you have loner-loser written all over you.”

Kidflash

Kidflash lost his composure striking his arms out, before bringing his hand back around to point towards himself.

“Hey! I get tons of ladies!”

Speedy

“Yeah whatever dude,”

Speedy cut him off waving his hand still resting on the top of the couch, looking in the opposite direction of the scene before him.

Garth

Garth parted from his King’s side as they entered the break room with a nod, he walked towards the other heroes, his dark eyes calculating.

“Hello, I’m Garth.”

He said before sitting down on the couch next to Speedy.

Speedy

Speedy made a face.

“Great intro fishboy! But shouldn’t you have like a superhero name?”

Garth

“No, I don’t have a secret identity.”

Garth spoke, his tone relaying how idiotic he thought Speedy was.

Kidflash

“What about protecting your family man?”

Kidflash asked, lifting both his eyebrows, he was never able to just move one, leaning towards Garth.

Garth

Garth’s eyebrows pulled together as frustration took over.

“I don't wear a mask, villains will know who I am regardless.”

Speedy

“Wonder Girl doesn’t wear a mask,”

Speedy said leering at Garth.

“Maybe we should come up with a dumb superhero name for you, personally I like Fishboy!”

Kidflash laughed loudly, Wonder Woman groaned standing up and walking towards her sister.

She was stopped by the Flash calling them over in an energetic voice waving the rest of the sidekicks towards them.

Green Arrow

Green arrow spoke first giving all of the teens a cursory glance before focusing completely on his own sidekick.

“Now listen up, this mission is very important to your future as legitimate heroes.”

Within his brief pause Black Canary sighed heavily at Green Arrow's natural talent for being a terrible parent. He moved one hand to his hip as he spoke lightly elbowing Aquman in the process.

“All ya gotta do is sit and watch your targets,”

Once again there was a lapse in his speech when he turned to check that Batman had brought up the images of the targets and the suspicious big black bags, as well as the address of their hideout. After seeing Batman had in fact project the correct information, Green Arrow nodded to himself before turning back toward the sidekicks. Jerking his thumb backwards, he continued.

“These are them.”

He took a moment to clear his throat at the odd phrasing.

Flash

Flash took that moment to take over patting his colleague’s shoulder as he stepped closer to the center of the group.

“We’ve been monitoring these guys’ set up for a couple weeks. We think that they’re smuggling something illegal in those big black bags-”

Speedy

“What do you mean “illegal” things?! Don't we get to know if there's gonna be guns or drugs or something, idiot-man!”

Speedy cut in sharply placing both hands on his hips and leaning forward, aggressively sneering in the Flash’s face.

Green arrow placed a hand on each side of Speedy’s chest pushing him back as Flash stood there shocked.

Flash

“So we’ll drop ya off at their hideout, be very careful sneaking into the building and while choosing stalking positions. If they begin to pack up and leave or the situation starts to turn violent, stay safe and contact us before attempting to fight. If they have guns, retreat to the transporter immediately.

Batman then swiveled around in his chair, sending a questioning glance at Wonder Woman from across the room, ignoring the conclusion of Superman’s story much to his disappointment.

Batman

“Why would you send these children out into the field if you don't trust them to fight without supervision?”

It was a statement rather than a question, challenging all of the other mentors.

Wonder Woman answered anyway with a judgemental look of her own, but Green Arrow was the one who spoke.

Green arrow

Green arrow took several long strides towards batman.

“Well we’re not just gonna leave our kids at the mercy of a bunch of gun wielding scumbags. I mean, Flash can’t even stand a chance against a handgun, do ya think any side kick could survive that?!”

Batman

Batman glared at him but spoke in a calm voice, only failing a little to keep the smugness out of his tone.

“Robin could.”

Aquaman

Green Arrow geared up to make another loud and spity remark but Aquaman spoke up for the first time since the debriefing began.

“If he is so proficient then why is he not here?”

He questioned with far more smugness in his tone.

Batman

“Because Robin is currently working on his own personal mission tonight.”

The statement was followed by Batman swinging his chair back around and continuing to type up a mission statement.

The group dispersed most of the sidekicks getting last minute pep talks, Kidflash who reached out to his uncle grabbing his elbow as he went to go carbo-load.

Flash

The flash turned to look at his nephew.

“What’s up kiddo?”

He asked, placing a hand on each of his shoulders looking at his face in concern.

Kidflash

Kidflash looked down taking a deep breath before locking eyes with his uncle.

“I-I don't know if I can do this uncle B.”

Flash

Flash answered with a sigh rubbing rough but soothing circles on his shoulders and nape.

“Alright listen kiddo, ya made a jerk out of yourself.”

kidflash‘s face whipped up to face his uncle.

“I know I flirt with all the ladies but I do so in a joking manner that means no harm or a promise for furthering the relationship...just apologize to Wonder Girl.”

Kidflash made a face at the ground scuffing his shoe against the shiny tile floor.

“Make some small talk when appropriate on the mission and you’ll have three new best friends in no time!”

Flash turned him around to face the other sidekicks and smacked him on the back pushing him forward.

Scene 9

A wide shot of the seedier area of Arizona, several of the lamp posts have been shattered and no longer work, streams of light shine across the wet road through boarded up windows of an old warehouse. The sidekicks crouched behind a stack of molding crates, listening intently as the goons played cards and chatted about their personal lives, peering at them periodically.

Roy

Roy groaned softly clunking his head against the rotten wood.

“This is so boring! They aren’t doing anything, I say we just jump ‘em now!”

Roy whispered looking expectantly at his teammates.

Garth

Garth glared annoyed, grabbing Speedy’s wrist in a surprisingly strong grip.

“We were given direct orders-”

Speedy

Speedy shoved his flat palm into Garth’s face creating space between them.

“Calm down Fishboy, I’d never go against our wise and fearless mentors’ orders,”

Speedy sneered, ripping his arm from Garth and rubbing his wrist.

#dick grayson #wally west #roy harper #donna troy #garth #teen titans!fab five #writing is hard

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furry-monster-trash · 5 years ago

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Tigerclaw Kittypet AU

What if once Tigerclaw was exiled from ThunderClan (Forest of Secrets), he got captured by twolegs? These twolegs used to own Firestar (Rusty). This would never happen but I like the idea.

Upon exile, Tigerclaw leaves ThunderClan territory as fast as his injuries will allow.

He finds himself near the twolegplace and heads towards ShadowClan territory but collapses due to his injuries before he gets anywhere near the border.

A male twoleg is getting ready to leave for work stops when he sees Tigerclaw’s body, bloody and battered right outside of his lawn on the other side of the fence.

The twoleg takes Tigerclaw inside his house and puts him in a cat cage so that he can take him to the vet.

Tigerclaw wakes up in the cage inside of the monster and begins to struggle.

When the twoleg and Tigerclaw arrive at the vet, the vet sedates the aggravated warrior so that it can better tend to his wounds.

Tigerclaw comes to once more and is covered in bandages and he has bright colors on his claws (claw caps so he can’t scratch anyone).

He slams into the bars of the cage (vet cage - larger and better to observe his health in) in an attempt to break them. It doesn’t work.

He reluctantly drinks the stale water in the cage but refuses to eat the food.

When the vet comes back to check on Tigerclaw, he hisses and lashes out at the twoleg, but is unable to hurt him due to the claw caps.

The vet takes Tigerclaw out of the cage, putting a muzzle on him so he can’t bite, and then vaccinates him against several illnesses. Tigerclaw freaks out at the needles.

Tigerclaw talks to the cat in the cage next to him once he is placed back in his cage.

The kittypet next to him, a fat dark brown and white tom, says that he’s at the vet and that the vet is only there to help him, not hurt him. The kittypet is named Oscar.

Tigerclaw explains that he isn’t a kittypet, that he’s a warrior from the forest: “I’m not one of you soft, overfed lumps!”

Oscar knows some about the forest cats but doesn’t seem very interested in their lifestyle “Well now you’re one of us. You might as well eat, if you don’t, you’ll never get out of here.”

Tigerclaw refuses to eat for another day and is almost given an IV so that he would regain some weight. Once threatened with another needle, he eats some of the wet food given to him. “It’s better than crowfood, but a fresh mouse is heaven compared to this.”

The vet tells the twoleg that rescued Tigerclaw that Tigerclaw needs to be introduced slowly to other cats, in case of aggression.

Tigerclaw is let out of the cage in another twoleg room, where Oscar and two other kittypets are laying around.

Oscar greets Tigerclaw and introduces him to Snuggles (a tabby she-cat) and Phoenix (a chimera tom).

Tigerclaw secludes himself near the window, spending his time trying to break out.

Phoenix sits next to Tigerclaw and talks to him to distract him “Tell me about your...clan?”

Tigerclaw pauses his attempts to escape and explains in detail about clan life. Phoenix says that the clan life seems hard, but that it explains why Tigerclaw has so many scars.

The vets sees Tigerclaw getting along with Phoenix and allows for him to be released from the vet.

The twoleg that rescued him takes him home and renames him “Tiger”.

Snuggles lives next door to him and Phoenix lives on the other side. Oscar lives across the street.

Tigerclaw meets the other twoleg that lives within the home where he is being held captive in and runs away when she tries to pet him.

Tigerclaw is not allowed to leave the ‘den’ of the twolegs, so he spends most of his time hiding under the couch and only drinking water and eating only the wet food at night.

The twolegs eventually put a cat-bed on the floor for him and he recognizes the scent on the bed, although the scent is very faint: “Fireheart used to live here! These are his twolegs!”

Tigerclaw is trying to leave through the window one night and doesn’t see the female twoleg come up behind him. She picks him up and scratches him between the ears. Tigerclaw still can’t claw back due to the claw caps.

Tigerclaw runs under the couch again when she puts him down.

Tigerclaw is given a special shock collar (a perimeter shock collar) and is allowed to go outside by the male twoleg.

When he tries to jump over the fence to go back into the forest, he gets shocked and almost runs back into the twoleg den in fear: “I’m being softened by this kittypet life!”

Snuggles hops up on the fence to greet Tigerclaw, calling him Tiger, and welcoming him to the neighborhood. Tigerclaw can hear a dog in her yard. “Aren’t you afraid of the dog?”

Snuggles says that she grew up with the dog and the dog would never hurt a cat. Tigerclaw jumps on the fence and sees the massive dog in the other yard (a husky). He grimly admits to himself that Snuggles is very brave for being so close to the dog.

Tigerclaw goes back into the twoleg den and sees that the cat bed has been moved to the windowsill. “The twolegs must’ve seen me near the window.”

He lays down on the bed and sleep overcomes him immediately. The cat bed is a lot more comfortable than any nest he ever had in the forest.

Tigerclaw wakes up to find the male twoleg putting food in his bowl and filling up his water once more. The twoleg gives Tigerclaw a few good pets before leaving.

The cat flap is unlocked permanently now that Tigerclaw has his collar and he once again goes out into his yard. He successfully catches a bird and eats it.

Phoenix sees him catch the bird and is impressed. Tigerclaw is happy that he hasn’t lost any of his warrior skills.

A few days later, Tigerclaw is sunbathing on his fence, gazing longingly into the forest when he spots a ThunderClan patrol in the woods. He can easily make out Cloudpaw’s bright white pelt. He hides from the patrol.

In a puddle in his yard from the sprinkles, Tigerclaw can see that he is more fed and filled out than he has ever been in the forest and that his fur is much sleeker than usual.

When a massive storm is raging outside one night, Tigerclaw admits that he’s happy to be inside a war twoleg den rather than being outside in the storm.

Tigerclaw runs into Oscar the day after the storm. Oscar asks him how he’s adjusting. “I would go back to the forest in a heartbeat if I could, but it’s not awful. I’m surviving.”

Oscar comments that it won’t be long before Tigerclaw goes to see the cutter (gets neutered).

Another week passes and Tigerclaw officially responds to the name Tiger, but still calls himself Tigerclaw. He is beginning to understand some twoleg language and learn the routine of the twolegs he lives with.

Tigerclaw is asleep on the male twoleg’s chair when the twoleg comes back home. The twoleg picks him up and puts Tigerclaw on his lap when he sits back down in his chair. Tigerclaw makes no move to leave the lap and lets the twoleg pet him.

The twolegs take off his claw caps.

When the first snowstorm of leaf-bare hits the forest, Tigerclaw is grateful for always having food to eat and heat to keep him warm.

He sees Snuggles playing with the husky in the neighboring yard and notices how both Snuggles and the husky are having fun in the snow. “I was never able to play in the snow, I was always too worried about feeding myself and my clan.”

Tigerclaw jumps into the yard and almost runs when the husky approaches him. Instead of attacking, the husky barks happily and runs in circles around him. Snuggles explains that he is playing.

Tigerclaw resentfully admits that the life of a kittypet isn’t that bad, that the warmth and food makes it almost worth it. Phoenix says that he doesn’t have to give up every aspect of his past warrior life: “You can hunt birds in your yard and a house a little ways down has a mouse problem.”

Tigerclaw has now been living with the twolegs for almost two moons and has adjusted completely.

His twolegs remove his perimeter collar, but Tigerclaw doesn’t run back into the forest.

Tigerclaw sees Darkstripe a few days later when Tigerclaw finally ventures back over his fence. Darkstripe is surprised to see him alive and asks him where he is living. When Tigerclaw admits to living with twolegs, Darkstripe attacks him, saying that he is weak and not a true warrior.

Tigerclaw easily defeats Darkstripe and almost kills him (although he suffers a wound to his shoulder). He tells Darkstripe that the kittypet life may be easy, but that he will never have to worry about food or being sick again. “My name is Tiger.”

Tiger chooses to stay with his twolegs, enjoying their company and letting them pet him and play with him. He is taken to the cutter and becomes a lot lazier than he ever was in the forest.

When the forest is being destroyed (The New Prophecy novels), Tiger sees ThunderClan cats being captured by twolegs and risks his own tail to save them. He saves all but Graystripe, who is taken away in a monster - now known to Tiger as a ‘car’ - before Tiger can save him.

Tiger leaves the scene before any cat can recognize him and is thankful that his scent has almost completely changed.

Tiger lives to be fourteen years old and dies of old age in the female twoleg’s arms. He sees StarClan but is not welcomed by them because he chose the life of a kittypet. “I do not regret my decision. My twolegs treated me well and were kind. I can see why my father chose to live with twolegs himself. I am grateful for ThunderClan and grateful for the many seasons I spent with my clan, but I am thankful that I found my own happiness after I was cast out.”

Tiger reunites with Pine (Pinestar - his father) in the kittypet version of StarClan.

#tigerstar #tigerclaw #tigerclaw kittypet au #kittypet #warriors #warrior cats #my writing #this would never happen but i like the idea #thunderclan #darkstripe #warrior cats au #warriors au #forest of secrets #erin hunter #pinestar

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leiyahime · 4 years ago

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Advent Challenge Day 04 - Moody

Sorry, this one is not so fluffy, more lonely. But don't worry Keith will be happy again I just wanted the story to underline the picture's mood and practice painting with words.

Day 04 - Moody

Keith tightened his jacket around himself. It smelled like it would soon start to snow and he was all alone in a foreign city. It was not even late, only seven p.m.. He missed his dog at his side and his boyfriend just as much. He sighed heavily. Only one more day and he could go home. But this fair was too important, he could not let it slip. And the hotel he was staying in didn't allow large dogs no matter how much those dogs considered themselves lapdogs and eating innocent grasshoppers was the worst thing they did.

He walked through small streets with his small camera in his hands. Perhaps he would even find a nice subject for another painting. Then he would even have something to do tomorrow at his stall on the fair when he waited for art-interested visitors.

He took a picture of a street lamp in front of an old house but it didn't really spark his inspiration. It was just good enough to send to Shiro later to let him know he was fine.

When he came closer to the end of this quite calm street he noticed that he would reach a main road again. The lights were brighter and harsher. Cars were rushing past the junction where the streets met. Perhaps he would find a pretty subject there.

He also noticed light from the building at the corner. A store?

When he reached it he saw that it was a small diner, not belonging to any of the known chains. His stomach told him he hadn't eaten in now more than six hours. Perhaps it was time for dinner. So he entered the building. There was only one booth occupied. The music was instrumental and quiet enough to not disturb his tracks of thought.

Keith went to a booth in the corner and set down. Soon the waitress, a young woman not even his own age with long blonde pigtails appeared.

"Hello. Here is your menu. Do you already know what you want to drink?"

"Hi. Thank you. I'd like to have a coke." He would probably regret it later but for now he wanted some caffeinated sugar.

The waitress vanished and Keith looked through the menu. There were some dishes he had never heard of before. The pros of not eating in one of the big chains. So it took a while until he had decided.

When he closed the menu the waitress reappeared with his coke. "Do you know what you want to eat?", she asked.

"Yes. I want to try the steamed bulgur with wok-vegetables."

"Of course. Just wait bit." Then she vanished again and Keith looked out of the window staring at his own reflection. He really wished Shiro could be here. He would like the mood. He got his camera to get the pictures from today on his phone and sent two of them to his boyfriend and wrote under them "I miss you". But under his critical view none of the photos were worth to find their way onto a canvas.

He was just done when he got his food.

"It looks great!" he said and tried a smile. The waitress smiled happily. "I hope you'll like it." Then she left him alone again and he started to eat. And it was really delicious. So it was no wonder his plate was completely empty when he was done.

Only then did he look on his phone to see Shiro's answer. A selfie of him and a very dirty, tall dog with the caption "We miss you, too". Keith grinned and wrote: "Have fun getting him clean again alone." As much as Kosmo loved to jump into the river and every puddle he could find he hated baths.

Then he got up to pay with a very generous tip and left the diner.

Only then he consciously saw the rose hip bushes in front of the building and thought the light of the street lamp looked nice in the branches. So he got his camera out again to take a few pictures. And now his mood lifted a bit. The inspiration hit him and he knew what he would get on a new canvas tomorrow. He still missed Kosmo and Shiro but he would be home tomorrow evening. That thought alone would lead him through the night and the next day. And hopefully they could come along next time.

He had just asked his phone for the way back to the hotel when he noticed the first snowflakes of the year.

#advent challenge #advent calendar challenge #my writing #my photos #sheith #voltron #keith kogane

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strawbewwysamurai · 5 years ago

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Soba is a Dish Best Served Cold [Sanji | Soba-Mask fic | Chapter 1]

Rating: Gen Warnings: Canon typical violence Characters: Sanji, The Straw Hat Pirates

The Straw Hats stop on an island to relax and refresh after their adventures in Wano, but after hearing about some dark happenings nearby, Sanji decides he'd rather skip resting, and don a certain caped costume once again, looking to help those who need him instead.

-----

Sanji took one careful step over towards the edge of the roof he was currently standing on, crouching down slowly to perch there, the very tips of his boots sticking out and over the side as he peered intently down over the cityscape below him. It was both noisy, and quiet. The sounds of the city still roared this late into the night, from people shouting gleefully or drunkenly at each other in the streets, to dogs barking as people passed the alleyways they hid in. Yet the night somehow made it feel so much more quiet than any shouts in the day, and Sanji couldn’t tell if it was just the still of the darkness, or if it actually was quieter, no matter how intently he listened.

He was looking, well- listening, for something, anything really. A suspicious figure making their way down the dark alleyways and backroads of the city as they spoke hushedly on a transponder snail, a commotion caused by a robbery or an attack of some kind, or even just a scream for help that echoed through the barren streets that night. Anything of the kind would be enough to move him from his perch and into action, looking to help whoever should need it.

The Straw Hats had stopped here on this booming and bustling island earlier that day, looking for some sort of refresher after everything they had been through in Wano Country just mere weeks prior. Goodness knew they needed it, after dealing with what they had there, and no one had had any qualms about taking a slight detour on their way to the next island.

Leaving Wano had been bittersweet, of course. It always was. Saying goodbye to those they had sailed with, who they had fought with, and had befriended through their journey was painful, as usual whenever they made new nakama on their many misadventures, but it was also tinged in the sweetness of accomplishment and how they had achieved their goals on their journey, and that they had befriended those along the way in the first place. It was all another step to making their captain the Pirate King, and every one of them were grateful to be a part of it.

Yes, they all loved the excitement and chaos of a good adventure on their journeys, but a good few days of relaxation and avoiding mishaps was always a good thing to have in between.

Well, it would be, if Sanji were to actually relax...

Yesterday, Nami had found this city-filled island on the maps along route to their next destination, and had adamantly decided they all needed a break after Wano at such a place that promised rest and relaxation, and boasted it’s seemingly endless restaurants, spas, and shopping. It was blindingly obvious that Nami’s intentions weren’t just to get everyone rested up for the next adventure, but rather to bargain and haggle her way into bankrupting half of the shops here. But none of them would dare to argue with her or call her out on it.

Besides, they all needed to stretch their legs up and away from each other for a bit, so this seemed like the perfect opportunity. And everyone had done just that as soon as they had docked earlier in the afternoon, with Nami heading for the spas and shops, Zoro looking for a tavern with Luffy, and Sanji himself separating from any of the little groups to head to the food market by himself.

He was in search of things they needed to stock up on before they set sail again next, or refillings of little treats that everyone enjoyed having on the ship. It was his job as the chef to ensure everyone could snack happily, and he was also looking forward to possibly finding local ingredients that couldn’t be found anywhere else. He loved figuring out new recipes to go with them whenever he found something new, and the new flavors were always so exciting.

He hadn’t been in the markets long though, before he caught onto a few whispers.

It started out with just a few whispers, and concerned looks in his direction. The faces of people trying to figure out who he was, who the brand new face was. Normally, Sanji was used to it, given how many little island towns they had stopped at over the years together, but here it just felt- out of place. It was a big city, not a small town. Why did it feel like everyone was trying to figure out if they had seen him before or not?

Admittedly, it wasn’t just him. He noticed the distrusting glances traded every now and then between other market goers, and it did nothing but worry him just slightly. He could sense something was going on in this city, and he wasn’t sure it would be anything good from what he was finding.

It was only a bit later on in his shopping did he hear any sort of firm information as to why everyone was looking so distrusting at one another.

“Here you go sir! That’ll be five hundred berries.”

“Thank you, mademoiselle. Please, keep the change~”

“Aww, why aren’t you sweet!” She blushed and waved a hand at him as he laughed and took the bag of fruits from the stall girl. She was adorable, and as per usual, Sanji was falling fast. Peppy and sweet, she had thrown in an extra apple for free if he’d promise her he’d try an apple tart recipe she had given him during his browsing of her stand. He wondered if he’d be able to have a drink with her later that night, and decided the question at the very least was worth a shot.

“One more thing, miss-”

She looked back up with him with a smile and a tilt of her head. “Ah, yes sir?”

She was adorable- A face covered in freckles was framed in fiery curls that were held back by a forest green bandana, both complementing the greens and reds of the apples and other fruits she was selling, with a slightly muddied dress to match. She would occasionally wipe her hands down on the apron she had tied around her waist, though Sanji wasn’t sure what she was wiping off, or if it would even help given all the flour that had taken up residence on her apron. He found it entirely endearing, nonetheless, and had found his latest crush in her. He took in a slight breath before he popped his question.

“I was wondering if you would be so kind as to join me for a drink sometime later tonight. You could pick your favorite place, and it would be my treat.”

“Ah!” She exclaimed, her demeanor changing suddenly. Her smile fading, she was no longer peppy, she wrung her hands together once and let out a nervous laugh.

“Honestly, sir, I wouldn’t advise going out too much at night if you can help it. What with everything going on lately…”

He blinked at her once, barely processing the rejection over her slightly concerning choices of words before he shook his head slightly with a laugh. “My apologies miss, but I’m mostly just passing through here, so I’m not very aware of the local happenings. What would be so wrong in going out for a drink tonight?”

“Well… There’s been quite a few… attacks lately…”

“Attacks?”

"Yes sir, attacks." She let out a sigh with another wring of her hands. Sanji hated to see her so worried, but he had wanted an explanation as to why the whole city seemed to be so distrusting of each other, even more so than others they had stopped at in the past, and it was looking like this was his best bet at getting an answer.

“Have people been getting badly hurt?” He pressed gently, trying his best not to upset her, but actually get information at what was even going on. She shook her head.

“Um… I guess you could say that, but… it’s usually much worse…” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t think one person who’s gotten attacked has made it out alive, at least to my knowledge.”

Sanji gaped slightly, a chill running down his spine.

“Not one? Then how do you know what’s causing the disappearances? I mean-” He shook his head and waved a hand lightly. “Not to doubt your information, just to question the-”

“Because the local law enforcement always finds puddles of blood with some sort of belongings that belonged once to the now missing person, or people.”

Sanji went silent after that, unsure of how to respond or even if he should after hearing something like that come from such a frightened lady’s mouth. He had his explanation, though. And he knew he wouldn’t like it, not based on the looks people gave around the city and the way they had been carrying themselves, but this was a completely different level. Possible murders or brutal kidnappings? That was the work of disgusting people and pirates that riddled the streets of gambling and port towns that were meant for such leeches, not a city that boasted about it’s leisurely activities and shopping districts.

Something sinister was patrolling the shadows, it seemed.

He would admit, he didn’t see himself as one who got involved in situations like this by his own choice, not at all. The very life of a pirate was living side by side with danger, and ignoring the fall out from such. That involved not helping everyone he would come across on every single island they would stop at, no matter how docile or hostile the island was. His nakama would laugh though, claiming there wasn’t a person in the world he wouldn’t drop everything to help, and no matter how much he threatened to not let them have dinner that night or snacks that morning, it did nothing to deter them from cheering about how weak he was for those who needed help, and how kind his heart was because of it. Not even he could help but smile, throwing out more empty threats as they always carried on despite it all.

Besides, the stall girl seemed quite distressed anyway, and who was he if he chose to ignore a woman’s sufferings?

“And is there… a certain area of the city where most of these incidents are taking place?” He questioned, trying to seem casual but it was probably obvious right now what he was doing regardless. “Maybe a corner of the city that whoever has been doing these things has been hanging out in more than other areas? A home base, so to speak?”

It took her a moment, he’d give himself that. But her jaw slowly dropped open as she realized what he was questioning of her.

“You’re… you’re not seriously thinking about going out and finding out who’s doing all of this, are you?!”

He shrugged, nestling his paper bag of fruit into the crook of his elbow.

“I don’t know, I just thought it’d be nice to see the city during the few days I’m going to be here, and would rather avoid the less safe and tasteful corners of the neighborhood.”

“Has anyone told you how awful of a liar you are?”

He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face in the next second. Oh, if only she had seen him throughout his years as a pirate- how much he had lied to their enemies faces and gotten away with it so smoothly- To the point where he was right behind Nami and Usopp in terms of who could lie the best and get away with the most.

“No, never, mademoiselle~”

She only continued to stare back at him, almost disbelieving of what he had just asked her a moment ago. So slowly began to shake her head as she lifted a hand to the bridge of her nose.

“Right. Sure. A random man who claims to be new in town wants to take down a possible serial killer that no one, not even the local law enforcement, has any clues or leads on yet. Wonderful. Wow, Bea, you’re really about to tell him aren’t you?”

“Well Bea, I would first like to say you have a beautiful name befitting of such a wonderful young lady-” Sanji began, his smile only growing bigger as he gave her a little bow, careful not to spill the contents of the bag he held. “- And secondly, if I were to, say, take down a possible serial killer that no one, not even the local law enforcement, has any clues or leads on yet…”

He held his right hand out to her, and waited to continue until she had given him a confused look and put her own hand in his. He kissed the back of her hand lightly before looking back up at her, a smile still ever present as he spoke again.

“Would you be so kind as to join me for a drink sometime later this week?”

She let out a groan slowly, but a smile began to form across her face despite it as he let out a laugh before finishing his sentence.

“You could pick your favorite place, and it would be my treat.”

She just watched him for a moment, trying to read him in some shape or form, before she shook her head defeatedly, a few curls escaping her bandana as she did so with a smile.

“Look, if you’re so willing to recklessly chase someone who’s somehow managed to take so many lives, be my guest. But don’t you expect to play hero and then come waltzing back here to take me on a date without actually catching the guy and making it out alive.”

“Oh darling, trust me, I don’t ‘play’ hero.”

“Sure.”

“So.” He straightened up, letting go of her hand as she gently pulled it back away. “Where are most of the crimes happening? Is there a general area I could look?”

She gave a hesitant shrug. “Most of the cases I’ve heard have been happening on the south side of town, near the far port. There’s taverns there for any sailors or pirates to stop in and it makes for good business usually, except lately with everything going on.”

“And you’re sure it isn’t just some pirate activity going on? Bar fights with innocents getting wrapped up into it all?”

“There’s never any bodies, just blood and something belonging to the victims.”

He rubbed his goatee as he thought it over. It was the perfect place to do whatever the culprit was doing- choosing an area that was both usually busy and also a bit shady. A place where pirates and sailors frequented, coming and going so much that the local authorities would assume at first that the culprit of the crimes was a passing pirate, and that there wouldn’t be any need in locating them in the first place, given how quickly they would have left the island after doing something so horrible as what they had if they were even slightly smart.

He could only hope that everyone had caught on that this wasn’t just a passing pirate anymore, not after how often it was happening long after the criminal should have escaped after doing what they had. This was someone who was here for a long haul, or a resident of the island themself. And if it was the former, Sanji needed to catch them quickly, in case they were on the ending half of their stay here or risk losing them.

And the taverns… That just ensured drunken victims and witnesses to entangle themself with. Less likelihood of them getting caught should they slip up if no one was in the proper state of mine to identify them in the first place. At the very least, this person- or people- had been smart enough to think of a good location to do what they were doing. He would just need to be smarter in order to catch them.

Easy enough.

He gave Bea another smile before adjusting his paper bag once more and giving her a little wave goodbye.

“I think that’s all I need, thank you mademoiselle~”

She stared at him once more, before rolling her eyes with a smile.

“Sure, well, good luck with your little murder mystery, sir. Please don’t go dying as well, alright? You actually seem sweet, and I’d hate to see you in the paper tomorrow for any other reason besides being crowned a hero for taking down the perpetrator.”

“Sweet you say? Why, you flatter me, my dear!” He laughed, taking a step away as he began to leave. “The name is Sanji, and I hope to hear you exclaim it tomorrow when I come back here to take you out for drinks that evening, alright?”

She watched him walking away, nodding at him as he did so, so he could leave with an answer to his flirts at the very least. She could only hope he would cower away from what was going on by nightfall. He seemed like a nice man, and his eyes were nothing but kind.

Sani, however, was confident. He’d dealt with emperors of the sea, Marine admirals, and warlords of every shape and form. He’d faced greater threats than most, and even faced his abusers again for the sake of his true family. It would take more than a street criminal to make him cower from a fight, much less when a date with a lady was at stake, or the lives of whoever else this criminal planned on taking too in the future should Sanji not stop them here.

He wouldn’t be cowering anytime soon, no. That much was obvious. It was simply a matter of how he was going to go about tracking down the guy, and taking him down…

He had a bit of an idea as to how, though.

-----

His wait in silence on the city rooftops ended abruptly, the moment a piercing scream echoed through the alleyways and reached his ears.

He jumped into action, quite literally, off of the building. The scream was coming from the direction of the port and taverns, and he hadn’t seen anyone go by for a while now, which could mean very little witnesses to what was going on, much less credible and sober ones. He needed to be fast, or else whoever was causing the scream, and whoever was doing the screaming, would be gone before he could get there.

The cold air bit his cheeks where they weren’t covered in his mask as he jumped, and the wind whipped by him as he fell. It was a free fall- He hadn’t yet activated his boots, or made any attempt at sky walk, and there was no need to. Falling was faster, a more direct route to get to the source of the screaming, and yet somehow- it was as if time itself slowed.

He could never place it, not when he dropped from sky walking, and not when he first dropped from flight when he had first donned the raid suit when fighting against Page 1. It was a freefall, and time moved slowed for the mere seconds it would last, seeing as he never got high enough for it to last any longer. The world was unmoving for the time, and the stillness held a calm unlike any other he had experienced. His entire senses were somehow both screaming out all at once, and not there at all, his heart beat pounding once and then nothing, not until his descent was complete.

He wondered if any of the others felt this way whenever they jumped from high places, be it Luffy launching himself off of something headfirst into adventure or a fight, or Chopper jumping from a floor up to change forms before mowing down an enemy or join the others in whatever fun they were having. Maybe it was just him, just Sanji who felt this strange sense of calm wash over him in the moments before he caught himself midair and stuck a landing, or launched back into flight.

Whatever it was, he enjoyed it. He enjoyed the feeling of the fall, and he enjoyed the moment that seemed to last forever, yet in reality only lasted a second or two before he would flip around and catch himself, dashing off in the direction of the screaming as fast as his suit would take him, to save someone. To solve what was going on. To help someone who needed him.

Who needed Soba Mask.

#black leg sanji #soba mask #one piece #op #opfanfic #fanfic #peachywrites #i hope i posted this right im trying a new way #SiaDBSC

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veroticker · 5 years ago

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The fix - Sylvie Stewart

Summary (from Sylvie Stewart’s website)

My life is a friggin’ fairytale—just not the kind any single girl would ever want to star in.

LANEY:

Like any good heroine, I’ve got a few challenges to face. Getting my son to wear pants is one; dealing with my snoozefest of a job is another. Then there’s the Beast, my freeloading brother who’s worn a permanent dent in the couch at my new place. And no fairytale would be complete without a smoking hot prince, of course. Too bad he’s a complete ass.

Everything in me screams to steer clear of Nate Murphy. Because, if life has taught me anything, there is no such thing as happily ever after.

NATE:

I may not be a superhero, but I do my best to come to the rescue when I’m needed. And, hey, I just moved halfway across the country after a single phone call from my mom. But being back home and taking on the responsibilities involved makes me a bit cranky at times. Unfortunately, the one time I completely lose my cool is in front of the hottest girl I’ve ever met. I’ve got my work cut out for me if I’m going to fix this. But I will fix this.

I’ll be anything Laney Monroe needs me to be … a superhero, a prince, or just a guy she might take a chance on.

Blurb

“I awoke to a foot in my mouth.

No, not the old feeling of having said something horribly inappropriate that you immediately wish you could un-say, but an actual foot. In my mouth.

“Ung guh!” I spat. To say this was a disturbing way to begin one’s day would be a gross understatement—emphasis on the gross. “What in the … ugh.” My head dropped back to the pillow as comprehension dawned. Rocco’s size twelve with those cute little toes lay on the pillow next to my face, along with a small puddle of drool. I took in his sleeping form, passed out upside down in nothing but his Ninja Turtle underwear.

“We can’t keep doing this, dude,” I whispered to myself. My little exhibitionist, having contorted himself into some kind of inverted nocturnal backbend, had spent the night in my bed—yet again. Being awakened by small naked body parts was starting to mess with my head. Not to mention, who knew where those little feet had been? Oh, wait, I did. Blech.

Completely unprepared to get up for the day, I snuggled back into my favorite dogwood printed sheets and stared up at the ceiling. I was discovering that moving to a strange new house was rough on a kid. Hell, it was rough on me and I was twenty years older than him. All things considered though, Rocco had been a real trouper since leaving the only house he’d known at my parents’ and moving into the cute fixer-upper we now call home. But there were obviously still some kinks to work out—case in point, my rude wake-up call.

When my parents first brought up the possibility of their out-of-state move, I don’t think I had ever seen them so edgy. There was lots of hand-wringing and “um, well, you know” before I had demanded they just spit it out—I was halfway convinced one or both of them were dying of Ebola or something equally horrifying.

I’d been feeling increasingly uncomfortable for leaning on them so heavily since the little stick had turned blue, so it was almost a relief to have the decision to get a place of my own taken out of my hands. Turns out while I had feared our moving out would hurt my parents’ feelings, they had been afraid I’d fall to pieces without them. One come-to-Jesus conversation later and my mom was accepting a new position at the University of Richmond in Virginia while I was on the phone with a realtor.

The truth is, early on, I would never have survived a day of motherhood without the undying, and most importantly, non-judgmental support of my family and my best friend—as well as the financial, if not physical, support of Rocco’s dad. But it was past time for me to pull my big girl panties up and I knew it. All the support I’d received had allowed me to finish my associate’s degree and get a job which, while not being entirely stimulating, allowed me to take care of my kid and me. As far as single moms went, my situation was the dream, and I knew it.

Turns out there is something remarkably satisfying about holding ownership of the place where you lay your head at night, and our new house was adorable. It had bright white siding—after a power-washing from my dad—and black shutters that were mostly on straight. And it was topped off by a cheery bright red front door. The house was a ranch and it was a bit older, but it had three bedrooms, two baths, and a fenced-in backyard for Rocco and the dog I was sure we would eventually get. It was close (but not too close) to the stores and restaurants, and the street was nice and quiet. I loved it and I was proud of our new home, even if it did have some drawbacks—leaky faucets, a few uneven floors, and maybe a few more major problems. But that was okay. All of that could be fixed with time and a little help from my idiot younger brother. I hoped.

On the condition that he would help with the repairs and renovating, I had agreed to let him stay with Rocco and me. It was a win-win—my faucets wouldn’t drip, and my brother wouldn’t be homeless, considering that his previous residence had also been my parents’ house. Even he had to admit that, at twenty-two, following your parents to a new state in order to live in their basement was borderline Jay and Silent Bob. And besides, all his drinking buddies were here in Greensboro so there was that …

So now the house was ours and we were making it into a home. What I didn’t know before moving was that a new house breathes differently than your old one. It has its own voices and creaky bones to creep you right the hell out if you’re not used to them. And we were definitely not used to them—thus the previous month of waking up to Professor Underwear crowding my sleep space in an entertaining array of positions.”

(review under the cut)

Review

(audiobook) Oh did I enjoy this one! It was funny, the characters were interesting, it was a bit sexy and the narrator was perfect. 6 hours well spent.

I seriously was smiling the whole time I was listening to this one--just because laughing out loud at work for apparently no reason would have been weird. Not much happens, to be true, and the tiny conflict in the relationship is quickly resolved, but getting inside Laney’s and Nate’s head was a fun ride. And the people around them are equally quirky and charming.

The story isn’t anything original. You get your insta-love with a bit of lust thrown in. There isn’t any reason really why Laney and Nate shouldn’t be together, but still it’s kind of a slow burn with just enough sexual tension to keep you interested.

Some interesting and important points are touched upon: what a new relationship and the possibility of its ending entails for the mother of a young child, what happens when you’re forced to give up your dream, what family means. But it’s never heavy, so don’t be afraid of drama--you won’t find it here.

Definitely a must read if you need some laugh and love!

Quickie

Series: Carolina connections #1 (but they can be read as standalone)

Hashtags: #rom com #single mom

Main couple: Laney Monroe & Nate Murphy

Hotness: 3/5

Romance: 5/5

+ it was SO FUNNY!

- a bit more of sexy times, please?

Stalker mode

You can suscribe to Sylvie Stewart’s newsletter on her website.

You can also follow her on Facebook.

#Sylvie Stewart #The fix #contemporary romance #rom com

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cheerysmores · 6 years ago

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Between Espresso and Roses (Part eight)

Four weeks ago (Part one)

“Hi, I’m Yuuri. I hope you don’t mind but I’ve already been drinking excessively...”

“Hey glad you made it! I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason for you being nearly an hour late...”

“Hey, I’m really really bad at introductions so do you mind if we just drink in silence for the next thirty minutes?”

Yuuri sighs and stares at the idiot muttering introductions in the reflection of his beer. At this point he’d probably make the best impression by sticking his glasses on the guy sitting next to him and bolting.

Taking a long sip of his drink he tries not to shoot another obvious glance at the door of the bar. He’s fairly certain the couple next to him has noticed that he’s been checking the time on his phone every two minutes for the last half an hour.

Since Phichit had so dramatically announced that it had been exactly two years since Yuuri’s last date a week ago, he’d finally caved and let himself be set up with one of his old college friends.

He looks down to his phone wondering whether he’d lower himself to stalking his Instagram again. His most recent post was him with a new puppy. He’d joked to Phichit earlier that their mutual like of dogs would give them at least twelve seconds of a conversation, but at this point it’s the only material he’s got.

He takes a longer drink from his glass and shakily sets it down.

He thought by four drinks in he’d feel less nervous but right now he can only imagine all the various ways he could screw up in the first five minutes of the date.

As he wonders whether tonight was really worth putting on his good cardigan, his phone lights up with a text from Phichit. He reaches over and swipes up, hoping he knows where the hell this guy is.

P: Soooo you want the good news or the bad news?

He puts down his drink and has another sneaky look at the door as he answers.

Y: The good news I guess

P: You don’t have to be nervous anymore

Yuuri furrows his brow a little before tapping out his reply.

Y: Okay... what’s the bad news?

P: Steven just texted. He isn’t so sure about tonight anymore.

He suddenly feels like his last four drinks are being whipped up by an angry blender in his stomach.

Y: He isn’t coming?

P: Sorry Yuuri :(

He feels like slamming his phone on the edge of the bar but fights the urge by gripping his glass so hard he’s sure he could shatter it.

Y: It’s fine. I’ll see you at home later.

He drains the rest of his beer in two swallows.

Of course. Of course when he makes an actual effort to end this embarrassingly long dry spell, his attempt fails before it even begins. That guy could probably smell the desperation from a mile away and decided to give this night a miss.

Yuuri gestures to the bartender for another drink.

As it’s poured in front of him, he glances over at the two people next to him who are happily chatting away, their hands linked on the edge of the bar.

Yuuri grabs his glass and swivels in his seat dejectedly. Right now he feels that he’d fit in much better drinking in some dark corner by the bathrooms.

At least then he won’t bring anyone else down.

Standing up, he suddenly feels the last few drinks hit him all at once, his bones feeling a little too light, his head airy. He tries to keep himself steady but ends up stumbling forwards rather ungracefully. Throwing a hand out he breathes out in relief as he manages to stop himself collapsing to the ground... before realising that he’s smacked into the man standing next to him with some force.

Wincing in surprise, the sounds of a splash and shattering glass reverberate through his mind as he tries to find his footing again.

“Wha-“ Feeling something cold splatter on his shoe, he looks down and audibly gasps at the shattered remnants of at least four glasses of red wine lying scattered next to a dropped tray on the ground in front on him. He blinks confused at the surprising lack of liquid on the floor, before looking up and realising that it’s mostly been absorbed by the white button down of the man standing in front of him.

He can physically feel all the colour draining from his face. That shirt looks like it cost more than his entire wardrobe.

“Oh god I’m so sorry- I swear I didn’t mean- please just let me...” the rest of his embarrassed rambles get stuck in his throat when he looks up into the face of the man he just so very thoroughly soaked.

Blue eyes warmer than a summer ocean meet his as fine strands of silver hair fall across his face while he falls back a little. Turning his head to the side, Yuuri can’t ignore the soft spread of his eyelashes or the cheek bones that he’s fairly certain he could cut his face on if he really tried.

And he wants to try.

“Shit!” The man pulls him out of his flowery daze with his blunt, whispered curse. He shakes his head and pulls the bottom of shirt forward, surveying the damage.

“Oh wait let me-“ He grabs a napkin from the bar and desperately tries to blot the worst of it. He almost drops the paper when he feels the strength of the muscle underneath.

“It’s fine.” The man grabs his hand to pull it away and steps back.

Yuuri feels his pulse jump at the contact, his mind shutting down save for one loud thought.

Oh god why does he have to be so attractive. Oh god WHY does he have to be so attractive.

“No wait, I can-“ as he tries to take a step forward, his shoe slips on the scarlet puddle on the floor causing him to stagger forward and slosh his own drink on the already soaked shirt.

Never has Yuuri wished harder for a hole to appear underneath him and suck him in.

“Just stop!” The other man holds up his hands as he takes another visible step back, those blue eyes frosting.

“Hey Victor, are you- Oh wow what the hell happened to you?” Yuuri turns his head to see a woman stopped in her tracks next to him, eyes wide as she takes in the sharp mess on the ground and the fact that the man opposite Yuuri looks like he’s just been stabbed in the stomach... and the chest... and the side.

Victor. Even in this mess he can’t stop thinking how even his name is pretty.

Victor looks at the woman next to him and back to Yuuri. “I think it’s fairly obvious what happened,” he mutters coldly, pushing the fine strands of his fringe away from his face.

Yuuri feels his stomach sink further into the floor.

“Is that asshole drunk?” The woman is more pointedly looking at Yuuri now, arms folded.

He ducks his head before he can catch Victor’s eye again, not wanting to know how disgusted he probably looks right now.

His mind may be a clouded mess of alcohol and shame right now, but he is acutely aware that he has two options. He can either stand his ground and apologise more like the pathetic grovelling mess he is, or-

“Sorry,” he gasps out again as he pushes past both of them with more force than probably necessary before he starts running. Running and running and running. Away from the bar, away from that street, away from Victor’s beautiful angry face.

He isn’t even sure where he’s going, the sound of shattering glass roaring in his ears, visions of what he’s just done playing over and over again behind his eyelids every time he blinks. He can feel both his eyes and lungs burning as he runs, flashes of brightness from cars and street lamps fading in and out of his peripheral vision as he continues his desperate escape.

Eventually his legs give out and he collapses forward, leaning up against the side of whichever building is next to him. He tries to catch his breath despite the fact his throat feels like it’s coated in hot sandpaper.

The cool of the brickwork against his hands brings him back to the moment a little as he slides down to the ground, angrily pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“I’m such an idiot,” he murmurs into the quiet air, feeling the tears brewing hot and angry behind his hands. “Oh god he must think I’m the most stupid, clumsy, selfish-“

A dry sob cuts off his whispered insults.

Pulling his hands away, he lifts up the bottom of his shirt to wipe the thick tears of embrassment oozing out behind his glasses.

After a few more shaky gasps, he looks up and realises that he’s currently sprawled in a pathetic pile opposite another bar.

Pulling out his phone, his finger hovers over Phichit’s number. After a few long seconds he defeatedly pockets it, shakily stands up and slowly walks across the street.

He can’t go back in time, but he can still numb himself with large quantities of alcohol.

Giving his face a final wipe down with the back of his sleeve, he makes his way inside and parks himself in the first stool he sees.

Yuuri knows his face is a patchy, embarrassed mess but right now he does not have it in him to care. He just wants anything that can blot out the image of stupid Victor and his stupid handsome face and his own stupid mess.

“Rough day?”

He slowly raises his head as the bartender stands in front of him, her eyes widening a little when she catches the state of his puffy eyes. “Just the last hour,” he murmurs.

“Must have been one hell of an hour.”

He almost wants to laugh at how spectacularly shitty the last sixty minutes have been. He isn’t sure if anyone else in this whole city has had a worse evening than him. “Oh it was.”

She gives him a sympathetic smile before grabbing a glass from behind her. “What can I get you?”

He hangs his head again, desperately trying to push the sting of his recent actions as far down in his mind as possible.

“Anything. Just keep it coming.”

☕️ Part seven ☕️ ☕️ Part nine ☕️

🌹 AO3 🌹

#yuri on ice #yoi #yuuri katsuki #victuuri #victor nikiforov #between espresso and roses #my writing

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autumn-oceanopromises · 2 years ago

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14/7/22 - “Open mic night”

It is the 16th of May, 2016. It’s cold, and my shoes are wet from the puddles I’m walking through. I’m striding through my city’s red-light district, avoiding the street-walkers and drunk college students spilling out of the bars. I’m headed toward the Thirsty Dog. I’ve been going there every Monday for two months, for their open mic night. Of all the musicians regularly playing at it, and the bar patrons happily listening along, I’m the only musician of color and the youngest one in the bar by about three decades. The music is chronically jazz, folk, and blues, but I know the shape of these songs with my eyes closed. I harmonize, I echo, I lead, in turn.

But the connections I’ve formed by what’s more of a giant jam session or karaoke, rather than an ‘open mic night’ are more shallow than deep, and when the nights end, I walk home alone, avoiding the street-walkers and drunk uni students spilling out of the clubs, to a tiny room with no windows, and a spot of mold in the corner of the midnight blue carpet.

In 2015, I fell in with a former drug-lord, who with great precision made himself the center of my life. His opinions are my opinions, his perspectives my perspectives. Right now, I still trust him utterly. He doesn’t see the point in folk, jazz, or blues - he doesn’t see the point in singing old songs, in making connections with people who can give him nothing. He’s right - I don’t see the point in making connections with people who can give me nothing. But music gives me something, so I’m doing that.

I’ve just come off being homeless for a month, too, because of him, but for some reason I still trust him utterly. Maybe that reason is the charisma of a cult leader, like my father tells me, in between his screaming at me to listen and threats to disown me, before I hang up. Tonight, the man I trust completely is hustling for a million-dollar marketing contract. I’m walking through one of his favorite parts of town, trying to figure out how much I can eat tonight, to make rent. When I sing, I don’t feel the need to eat. Music is enough.

The musicians nod at me when I enter. I nod back. I don’t remember their names, though I recognize their faces, their drink choices, their guitars. Tonight’s a slow night. The mood is low, and our songs weep with nostalgia, with longing, with pain.

Our song choices are deeply personal, and often it’s one singer, one guitar. We listen to each other, and we hold space for each other. The bar patrons talk over us, not really recognizing the songs enough to sing along. I do several that night, clinging to that faint connection to those around me. But, I’ve picked songs that no one else seems to know, and I have to climb up onto a separate, elevated stage, and play the piano, or sing unaccompanied. The piano is far away, detached from everyone else. I feel like I’m shouting loudly to be heard, but there’s no one listening.

When the bartender rings the closing bell and we take one final turn, I do Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah.

Five guitarists pick up the chords at once, first in clashing key signatures, and then, meshing together. Others start to sing along, to echo, to harmonize, to lead. Someone hops up onto the stage, to the piano, and starts to play. The bar patrons start to sing along. It’s Hallelujah. Everyone knows it, knows how to sing it, wants to sing along, wants to be a part of it.

I wrote my own verse to Hallelujah when I was thirteen. It’s a verse that I have sung, with the raw gore of an open wound, ever since my fiancee left her accusations about the man I trust utterly ringing in my ears. The day after that screaming match, she placed the engagement ring I bought her on our bedside table, and left everything I’d made for her in a careless pile next to our bed.

I slide the verse in. The room falls silent, confused. It’s not the usual way the song goes. But when the chorus starts again, the room shakes with fifty voices singing Hallelujah. People pray, people stand with tears in their eyes, hands raised, upwards and outwards. The sadness shatters, and the songs pass onwards from me to finish that last turn around the circle. The bar patrons are happily singing along now. We are all singing.

I thrum, all over, with a buzz of true connection. I feel myself smiling uncontrollably, smiling back at people who smile at me. When the bartender finally closes up shop and shoos us all outside, the night outside is warm, the last gratefulness of autumn, and conversations, bright and happy, spill out onto the street. I wave away offers to drive me home. I want this glow inside me to last as long as I can manage.

I walk home, still feeling warm and happy and connected, to a room wide enough to stretch out my hands. I have no windows, but it’s warm at night. I have have a beautiful blue carpet, that looks like the color of the night sky. I wish I could be this connected and hopeful and happy forever.

I message the man I trust most, happy and excited, and he too is happy for me. He makes plans with me to see me tomorrow. He’s gotten that million-dollar contract, so he’s happy. He also sounds happy on the phone that I am happy, and I want to tell my father - see? This man I trust utterly, he’s a good man.

Three months from now, the man I trust utterly will bury me in a wooden box in a forest, and leave me there.

#spilled ink #spilled prose #storyworthy #homework for life #14//7/22

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terminallydepraved · 6 years ago

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Halcyon (D:BH - Hank/Connor)

So, I really like d:bh. Like, a lot. Namely Hank and Connor. So... This was just an inevitability, really. 10k, Domestic, smut with light angst. Please enjoy!

Read on Ao3 Here

[Support me on Patreon] x [Commissions Page] x [ Buy Me a Coffee]

Hank could admit to leaning on some tendencies that could certainly be considered self-destructive. When things got tough, when the world became too much to handle, everyone who knew him knew where to find him: at the bottom of a bottle in the nearest bar. He’d fucked himself up with booze and vice and self-loathing, and when that failed to get him where he wanted, he’d go further.

Hank was not what one would call a healthy individual. And Connor, helpful little lap dog that he was, had noticed.

“Come on, Lieutenant!” Connor chirped half a block ahead of him. “Three more miles to go!”

Forget drinking himself into oblivion, Hank thought. For a torture this pronounced, throwing himself into traffic was the only option left.

He threw a hand towards his hair and shoved the sweaty, matted locks out of his face, forcing himself to jog a little faster. Sumo barked encouragingly from Connor’s side, far too happy to be out of the house to bother taking Hank’s side in this torture.

In hindsight, it hadn’t sounded that bad. Getting in shape again, running with a partner. Saying yes to Connor had felt the same as making a New Year’s resolution. Something you did to make yourself feel like you were going to get your life together, but never actually went through with doing. Hank was used to breaking promises to himself. What he wasn’t used to was being held accountable for them.

“Fucking Connor,” he grunted, though wheezed was probably more accurate.

“Did you say something, Lieutenant?”

Hank glowered. “Just that I’m going to have a heart attack and then you’ll be sorry you made me fucking jog ,” he spat. It was so fucking early too, and on a Saturday even. Fucking torture. That’s what this was, and Connor was the sadist responsible.

Connor raised a brow and fucking… Christ, fucking jogged backwards to look at him without slowing the pace. Sumo kept on trotting at his side happily, not even sparing a look at his owner to see the cruelty being dished out on him. “Now, Lieutenant,” Connor began chiding, “you know as well as I do that being healthy is important. I can see from your current vitals that you are in no danger of going into cardiac arrest. Your current heart rate is—”

Hank didn’t want to hear it, so he drowned out the number with a loud, ill-advised groan. It took up breath he didn’t have, but damn if it didn’t feel good to shut Connor up. “Keep running like that and you’ll hit a fuckin’ tree,” he gasped, the heat of his words lost in the effort of getting them out at all. “Trip him, Sumo. It’d serve him right.”

Sumo let out a low bark, tail wagging and tongue lolling, drool dripping from his jowls as he moved a little faster. Connor smiled at the dog and Hank just hung his head. Even his own damn dog had turned on him. Traitors. He was surrounded by traitors.

Connor gave him a look that was every ounce the pedantic, patronizing brat he was. Dark brown eyes rolled, an unnecessary sigh falling past Connor’s lips. His LED cycled yellow, then blue. “We can take a break here,” Connor relented, coming to a stop at the corner. He immediately went down on his knees to pet Sumo, scratching behind his floppy ears as a reward for keeping up. “Please try to regain your strength within the next ten minutes, Lieutenant, else we will fall behind schedule.”

Hank longed to tell him exactly what he thought of that, but there was no way to manage when his entire body screamed at him to sit the fuck down. He wobbled the last few steps and collapsed beside Connor on the cement, bringing a burning hand to his sweaty hair to push it out of his face. He sucked in deep lungfuls of air, and bit by bit his vision seemed to return to normal.

God, he was out of shape. Sumo was pushing forty in dog years and he still seemed to be doing better than him, and all he did all day was lay around the house and shed.

He flinched when something cold touched his cheek. Hank recoiled, nearly losing his balance and toppling backwards. He was spared an embarrassing accident when Connor grabbed him by the shoulder, righting him easily. A small water bottle was in his other hand. Hank frowned at it.

“What’s this?” he rasped, skin prickling uncomfortably as the sweat dried on him.

“Water, Lieutenant,” Connor reported, holding it out to him once more. “Hydration is very important during prolonged physical activity.”

“I know that,” Hank blustered, snatching the water from Connor. He wrestled with the cap and managed to get it off before Connor could offer to help, and then downed it all in one go. The cool water soothed his burning throat. He lowered his hand and gasped for breath, hanging his head while his body throbbed in pain.

“I’ll recycle this,” Connor murmured, kneeling down to take the empty bottle from Hank’s lax hand. “You’ve done remarkably well today, Lieutenant. I’m very proud of you.”

Groaning would be rude. Hank knotted his fingers in his fringe and resisted the urge to be rude.

“Thanks,” he muttered, lifting his head just enough to watch Connor walk Sumo over to the nearest recycling bin. God, Connor’s shorts were short. Where did he even get those? The get up could only be called peppy at best, and the neat white athletic top Connor wore with the shorts just added to the realization that Hank was reaching his threshold for the day.

To be honest, Hank was proud of himself for holding out this long too. Ever since the android revolution, life had become… different. Good different, bad different— the demarcation was too narrow to make out. All Hank knew was that Connor was now a permanent fixture in his life. A partner at the precinct, a partner on his runs. Hell, Connor practically lived with him now despite the fact that the android could make a life of his own if he so chose. Free will and all that.

But nah. Nah, Connor had decided to saddle himself with Hank, and for better or worse, Hank was growing used to it.

Worst of all, he thought as he watched Connor toss the bottle in the bin and lean down to pet Sumo, was that he was beginning to like it too.

He lowered his head when Connor stood back up. The company he liked. These runs, he absolutely hated. Fucking exercise. He should have known by those less than subtle burger comments that Connor wasn’t going to drop the topic of Hank’s abysmal eating habits. The change in diet was one thing, but these torture runs were so much worse. Letting someone care was… Well, it was fucking painful. But Connor was persistent. Persistent and sincere and entirely too good for someone as washed up as him.

Hank blinked as a dark spot formed on the cement. His brow furrowed. That better not be… Oh, fucking Christ. He grimaced as another appeared, and then another. Forcing himself up, Hank looked up at the sky and swore loudly at the black, swollen clouds gathering overhead. Rain began to speckle his face.

Fuck.

“Connor, it’s fucking raining,” he said, swearing louder when the rain just came down harder.

Connor paused at his side and looked up at the sky as well. “It certainly is, Lieutenant,” he reported, completely unbothered by the rapidly worsening weather. Sumo seemed fairly unbothered too. Hank frowned as his dog shook, flecking them both with more water. That was going to be wonderful to deal with once they got home. He resigned himself to the stench of wet dog invading his evening, and then he turned his attention back to Connor.

“So, you gonna call a cab for us or what?”

“A cab?”

Hank raised a brow and then startled a bit when a crack of thunder rumbled in the air. Sumo let out a pitiful whine. He reached out a hand to soothe his dog, sighing under his breath. “Yeah, Connor, a cab. I didn’t exactly bring my phone with me,” he muttered. No damn pockets on these decade old sweats of his. He was a bit surprised they even fit still, but that was neither here nor there.

Instead of an affirmative, Connor’s LED flickered yellow. For some reason the sight sent a wave of dismay through Hank. Police instinct, he figured, and it was rarely wrong. The light flickered blue. Connor smiled.

“I think this is the perfect motivation to help you finish your run, Lieutenant,” Connor recited pleasantly as the rain soaked his carefully styled hair. “Consider this your cool down.”

Hank stared at him as the rain fell harder. “You… Connor, you can’t be fucking serious!” He looked around desperately for any sign of a bus or taxi. The street was empty though, and even if it wasn’t, he knew well enough they’d never let them on with a dog. Fuck.

Connor smiled widely. Hank hated how he looked great even soaking wet. “Let’s get going,” he said brightly, tugging on Sumo’s leash to coax the dog into standing. “First one home wins!”

“What… Wins what!?” Hank shouted as Connor took off without another look back. Hank swore lustily as he watched the damn android jog off in perfect form, Sumo keeping pace easily as they crossed the street. Hank took off after them, knees aching, lungs burning. “Fucking hell, at least pretend I might win, you asshole!”

If he’d thought the run there had been torture, the run home was absolute hell. Hank struggled to keep up with Connor’s inhuman stamina, and with every sheet of rain that came down, it brought with it another puddle to splash through, another lock of hair plastered in his eyes, and another mouthful of rainwater that didn’t taste nearly as nice as the bottle of water had. Eventually Connor noticed and slowed his pace. He even encouraged him every step of the way, but it didn’t hide the fact that Hank was running two and a half miles in the pouring rain, half blind and wholly exhausted.

By the time they reached Hank’s neighborhood, Hank was on his last legs. His legs trembled as he walked the final steps to the door, and he shoved his keys at Connor blindly, letting the android unlock the door so he could sag against the outer wall and wheeze for the breath he couldn’t seem to catch.

“I’m very proud of you, Lieutenant,” Connor said, opening the door with ease. God, it was dark inside, but fuck him if he cared. “We’ve exceeded our target mile goal for the day, and you’ll be pleased to know you burned over five hundred calories overall.”

He’d be pleased to get the fuck inside and collapse on the floor, actually, but Hank didn’t have the energy to say as much. He just pushed past Connor and used the wall for support until he made it to the living room. The curtains hid what little light the street might have offered the room, but muscle memory was one hell of a crutch, both while inebriated or blind. Errantly he heard the sound of Sumo being unleashed, and it was a testament to his own exhaustion that he didn’t have the wherewithal to warn Connor about the imminent mess Sumo was about to make.

“Sumo, no!” Connor yelped like clockwork. Hank managed a wry smile before face planting on the couch, body trembling and muscles aching.

“You better clean that up,” he mumbled, searching blindly for the bottle of beer he’d left half-drunk on the coffee table the night before.

The sound of glass on wood prompted Hank to lift his head. Connor was standing beside him now, the beer bottle in hand. “I’ll clean the living room, starting with this,” he said, lifting it out of reach. “Please hydrate with water, Lieutenant. You’ll find it works better than alcohol.”

Hank scowled, shoving himself upright. “I think you’ll find that I’ve had my fill of water for the day,” he said blandly, gesturing at his soaked sweats. He made a swipe for the beer bottle, but Connor was already moving towards the kitchen. Hank sagged into the couch and groaned. Not loud enough to drown out the sound of Connor pouring the rest of the beer down the sink, though.

Sumo, fresh from shaking the excess water from his coat, meandered through the living room and towards his dog bed. Hank watched him plop down in the cushions and pillow his head on his paws. Lucky bastard. A nap sounded ideal, but Hank had a feeling Connor wasn’t done with him yet. Already he could hear the android on his way back from the kitchen. Hank rolled his head on his shoulder, giving Connor a bitter look that Connor returned with a placid smile.

“I bet you’re proud of yourself,” Hank snipped.

Connor, still dripping water from his hair and clothes, furrowed his brow. “Proud? I suppose I am feeling some measure of contentment at the results we’ve achieved. You did well today. I had fun.”

Hank stared at him in disbelief. “You had fun?” he repeated. God, Connor really was a sadist. “Well, fuck then. Glad you enjoyed torturing me.”

Putting his hands on his hips, Connor… Fuck, he pouted . Hank balked at the sight. It was… Well, it was a cute look on him. Damn.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Hank relented when Connor’s stupid pout didn’t. He held up his hands and looked lower, hiding from Connor’s gaze. “It wasn’t torture. But God, Connor. I’m old. You can’t work me like a dog and expect me to like it.”

A bead of water rolled down Connor’s cheek, down his neck to disappear in the collar of his shirt. In the quiet darkness of the house, the storm outside seemed distant. Hank fidgeted a little and put a hand on the back of the couch, pushing himself onto his feet. He was going to get sick if he sat around in these clothes all night getting guilt tripped by a doe-eyed android.

“Do you have a change of clothes here?” Hank muttered, sighing when he heard Connor follow him towards the bathroom. Just like a poodle. The thick cotton of his sweatshirt stuck to his chest uncomfortably, the sweatpants sticking and sagging from the weight of the water it’d collected along the way. “Fuck, this is a mess,” he grunted, flicking on the light. “Can’t believe you made me run home in that monsoon.”

“It isn’t a monsoon, Lieutenant,” Connor corrected helpfully in the doorway. “And I didn’t consider the need for another outfit.”

Hank pulled a couple towels from the closet and threw one to Connor. The other he used to dry his matted hair. “I bet you didn’t,” he sighed, looking at Connor in the light. Which was a mistake, he realized a little too late to do him any good.

The white of Connor’s shirt hadn’t survived the deluge. It clung tightly to his body, see-through and sheer. The rough towel mussed his dark hair as he perfunctorily began to dry himself, but the lifting of his arms only made his shirt cling all the closer to his trim chest. Hank saw Connor’s mouth move, off-handedly heard his voice rattle off another bout of observations, suggestions, and nit-picky thoughts on the water, Hank’s health, and the carpet’s cleanliness. He knew Connor thought he was listening. But Hank wasn’t. He wasn’t listening at all.

All he could really focus on was the way the light showed the pale pink tease of Connor’s nipples hidden just beneath the thin layer of fabric.

It was a stupid thing to get caught on. Infinitely stupid. Of course Connor was anatomically correct. He was an advanced prototype, the best Cyberlife had to offer. No expense had been spared in making him the epitome of artificial life. From the way his damp hair curled as it dried to the humanistic reaction of cool air against biomechanically warmed skin, Connor was perfect. Hank wasn’t sure why he had expected any different.

He really wasn’t sure why it made his blood burn either.

“Is there something wrong, Lieutenant?”

Hank jerked his head up and looked Connor in the eye. Shit. Connor had that curious expression again, his eyes no doubt scanning Hank to figure out what had him out of sorts this time. Would he even be able to notice? Would the idea that maybe he was the distraction phase those pre-conceived program parameters of his?

“No, Connor,” Hank said with a sigh, forcing himself to hobble out of the bathroom. “I’m just peachy keen.”

Connor moved back a few steps, rainwater still trickling down his cheeks and shirt. He cocked his head to the side the same way Sumo did when he heard something strange in the distance. “Are you sure?” Connor probed, because of fucking course he would. “My readings tell me you are exhibiting symptoms atypical with with lethargy or inebriation. Was our run too long for you today? Should I reconfigure our future outings with this reaction in mind—”

“Would you just stop analyzing things for two seconds?” Hank cut in, holding up his hands in surrender. “Jesus Christ, it’s not your fault, okay?”

Connor blinked. He almost looked surprised. He folded his hands in front of him, his fingertips meeting to form a steeple against his sternum. An odd tick, Hank had noticed. Connor had a lot of them once you really started to look for them.

“I wasn’t implying it was my fault,” Connor said quietly. His warm brown eyes turned towards Hank, a sheepish look taking root on his young face. “But regardless, I am… concerned, I suppose, as to the cause.”

Hank gave in to the urge to bury his face in his hands. This was just… Fuck, he was too innocent looking. Those wide eyes, the soft looking lips. He stared at Hank like he hung the sun and stars, and here Hank was, projecting. Again.

Something brushed his shoulder and Hank couldn’t help but jump. He flinched away and moved his hands, but it was just Connor. It was always just Connor, standing a little too close, probing when Hank was at his worst. Standing at his side with worry in his eyes, staring up at him, and… Fuck.

He was too old for this. He was too old and broken and fucked up to deserve this, but Connor made it too easy to want it anyway.

“Lieutenant?”

Hank cleared his throat and averted his eyes. His face felt a bit warm. “It’s nothing, Connor,” he mumbled. “Just drop it.”

But Connor just cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. He assessed Hank as if he were a crime scene. Well, sort of like a crime scene. If Connor tried to fucking lick him, they’d have a bigger problem on their hands than just whatever it was happening right now. Hank took a step back and fiddled with the towel he held, wiping his already dry face for want of something to do. He was beginning to feel a big chilly now that the heat of the run had ebbed away. He’d need to get some new clothes for Connor too.

“Are you perhaps feeling desire, Lieutenant?” Connor asked, aplomb nothing.

Hank dropped the towel. He couldn’t quite find the words to answer that. Connor, of course, took that as invitation to go on.

“Your pupils dilated when you looked at me, and your core temperature increased slightly as well,” he rattled off, as cool as a cucumber. He even bent down to pick up the towel, folding it over his arm as he continued on. “Perspiration began despite the lack of physical exertion. Subconscious body language cues of your lips, hands, eye movements all point to a sense of sexual desire. Am I wrong?”

For some reason it felt like being on trial. If he got defensive, it’d just make him look even more guilty. Hank swallowed and avoided Connor’s gaze.

“How long have you wanted to have sex with me?”

Hank nearly choked. On his spit, on his shock, on something undefinable. He looked at Connor with wide eyes, hating how the damn android didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed asking a question like that. “Fucking hell, Connor,” Hank muttered, crossing his arms to glare at anything that wasn’t Connor. “Where do you get off saying shit like that?”

That damn yellow glow again. Connor frowned. “Am I…” He paused, bringing his hand to his chin in a startlingly human gesture. He looked down at his feet. “Am I misunderstanding something? You’re exhibiting signs of attraction, and since I am the only one here, it must be in regards to myself.”

“That doesn’t mean you need to- to fuckin’ say it out loud!” Hank shot. God, he sounded so defensive. Aw fuck, and now Connor was looking at him with that kicked puppy look of his. “Jesus, just… Goddamnit Connor. Just ignore me. I’m not gonna sit here and project on you—”

“Project?” Connor interjected. Now he was staring harder. He took a step closer. “Lieutenant, do you believe I don’t reciprocate? Is that the source of your discomfort with this subject?”

Hank tried not to look at Connor like he was stupid. He probably failed in that, but what else was new? “You’re a fuckin’ android, Connor,” he said, speaking slowly to make sure he understood. “I’m not the kind of sleazebag who’d go around humping the leg of something that doesn’t feel the same.”

Connor curled his hand into a loose fist, holding it to his chin as he analyzed Hank from head to toe. “And what evidence do you have that states I don’t feel the same?” he wondered, processing it the way he might a case.

It was getting increasingly harder to keep his incredulity in check. “Are you really going to stand there and tell me that you— you, what? Want to fuck me?” Hank’s head spun at the thought alone.

A blink. The smallest glimpse of a yellow light. “Yes,” Connor said, lowering his hand. “Yes, I would stand here and tell you that.”

Hank gaped.

Connor smiled. He walked a little closer. “Does that surprise you?” he asked.

Does that… “Yes, it fucking surprises me,” Hank shot, taking a step back until he was firmly in the living room once more. God, he needed a drink. What the hell was this day turning into? He rubbed at his temples and glanced at Connor’s eager little smile. “Do you even know what you’re saying?”

“I think I’m saying that I’d like to have sex with you.”

Hank turned on his heel and made a beeline for the kitchen. Specifically, for the bottle of whiskey he kept hidden behind the cereal where Connor hadn’t quite noticed yet. “You need to run a diagnostic test,” he muttered. Some bug in the program, obviously. That’s all this was—

“Diagnostics ran. There is no flaw in my system,” Connor recited helpfully, following him into the kitchen. Hank opened up a cabinet and shoved the boxes of cereal out of the way, searching for that elusive bottle. He gritted his teeth and went up on his toes when he didn’t feel cool glass. “If you are looking for your whiskey, I disposed of it last week.”

Hank lowered himself woodenly, turning with a glare. He closed the cabinet door a little harder than was strictly necessary. “If you expect me to have this conversation while sober, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Really?” Connor asked. “Like what?”

Like what? “Like… Like… Don’t sass me right now, Connor,” Hank grimaced, giving up. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Because you’re in the mood to be intimate with me,” the android offered up. “I understand.”

Hank stared at the ceiling, begging for God—any God at all— to end him here and now. “This cannot be happening,” he said. “You work me within an inch of my life, make me run home in the goddamn rain, and now you tell me you want to have sex with me.”

Connor came a little bit closer. The glow of his LED casted a cool blue light on Hank’s chest. “In my defense,” he murmured, “you did express your interest first.”

“Why?” Hank scowled, only to grimace a second later when Connor put his hands on his chest. “Why on earth would you want me of all people?” A whiskey-soaked mess of a man whose closest friend was a dog because no one else would put up with him. Sure, it wasn’t as if Connor had other acquaintances. But still.

Yellow light. Processing. Then blue.

Dark brown eyes sought out Hank’s, and Hank was too weak to avoid them. With him this close, Hank could just about count each eyelash, each little artificial blemish speckling his skin like rain. “Because I like you, Lieutenant,” Connor said simply, earnestly. “Do I need more of a reason than that?”

Yes. Yes, he needed more of a reason than that. He needed a thousand reasons, but even if he had them, Hank was sure he’d have a rebuttal for each and every one of them. And when it came down to it… When it came down to it, Hank was tired. He was cold and tired and aching and weak, and Connor was so close. He was close enough to make it easy to give in.

So, Hank gave in.

Connor didn’t have time to process things. Or maybe he did. Hank wouldn’t pretend to understand how his mind worked. All he knew was Connor allowed the kiss to happen. Hank found Connor’s hips and held them tight, tugging him closer, lifting him just a little until he went onto his toes. Soft lips moved against his own awkwardly. Connor kept his eyes open. Hank closed his own for the sake of his own sanity.

This was probably Connor’s first kiss. No, it definitely was. Connor wasn’t good at this. His lips moved gracelessly, his jaw locked and his head slightly off angle. Their noses bumped and Hank broke the kiss with a bit of a laugh. Connor stared at him curiously but smiled back after a moment’s pause. Weird. It was a weird kiss with a weird android and Connor through and through.

“Does… Does this mean we’re going to have sex?” Connor asked carefully.

Hank swallowed. “Is that really what you want?”

There was no need to process anything. Connor simply nodded his head, his hands closing into fists against Hank’s chest.

“Go wait in the bedroom,” Hank breathed, sweating already. “I gotta… I gotta do something first. Okay?”

Connor lowered himself back onto the floor. Hank’s knees went a little weak when that pink slip of a tongue peeked out to wet soft lips. Lips he knew were far softer than they had any right to be. “Alright, Lieutenant,” he said.

“Hank,” he corrected, shaking his head. He cleared his throat a little. His voice sounded so low. “It’s… It’s Hank when we’re like this.”

That earned him a smile. “Alright, Hank,” Connor whispered, pulling away to head to the bedroom. Hank braced himself on the counter and watched him until he slipped through the door. Out of sight but certainly not out of mind.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled, reaching blindly for a glass beside the sink. No booze, so water would have to do. Fuck. He filled the glass and downed the water in one gulp, wiping his chin when it trickled into his beard. This was… This was insane, right? Fucking insane. But God, if this wasn’t a dream…

He wanted it. He wanted this so bad he could scream.

His hand shook as he set the glass on the counter. Connor was waiting for him. He… He needed to go in there.

Despite the water, Hank’s mouth felt so very dry. He closed his eyes and pushed away from the counter, combing his hair out of his face. It was now or never, he thought, looking towards the bedroom. Connor hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights. What was he doing in there? His cheeks colored at what his imagination conjured up.

Now or never , he mouthed, forcing himself to take the first step. It was just Connor. Gorgeous, weird Connor. There was nothing there that could surprise him more than hearing the android say he wanted this. Everything from here on out would be a cakewalk compared to that.

When Hank moved finally entered the bedroom, he found…

Oh, Jesus Christ.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked, staring at how Connor was sitting on the bed. Prim and proper and acting like they were at the office, Connor sat with his spine straight and his hands neatly resting on his thighs. The android blinked owlishly at him, cocking his head curiously. Hank dragged a hand down his face. It was like Connor was waiting to be evaluated.

“I am… I am waiting for you to join me, Lieu— Hank,” he said, only stumbling a little as he backtracked the title. Connor’s hands curled into fists against his thighs. The shorts he wore rode up a little, baring another inch or two of flawless pale skin. “Am I supposed to be doing something else right now?”

Connor stood up before Hank could say something, his hands immediately going to his waistband. In a quick, decisive move, he pulled down his shorts and stepped out of them, his long, lithe legs nearly glowing in the low light of the room. Tight black briefs covered his lower half, nondescript and unassuming. Hank’s brain stuttered at the sight. If he had his own LED, he had to wager it’d be stuck on yellow and spiralling for traction he couldn’t find.

It was when those pale hands moved to grip the bottom hem of Connor’s shirt that Hank finally found his voice. He crossed the room in a flash and grabbed Connor by the wrists. “Hey, wait a minute,” he ordered, biting his lip hard to keep from doing something stupid. “What are you doing now?”

Connor looked at his trapped hands and then up at Hank. “Undressing,” he said slowly. “That is what people do when preparing for intercourse, right?”

“Wh- That’s—”

“Perhaps undressing isn’t absolutely necessary,” Connor carried on, closely analyzing the grip Hank had on his wrists. “My knowledge on this topic is rather lacking, but basic logic would dictate that only partial nudity is required for successful copulation. But Hank, wouldn’t that increase the likelihood of making a mess?”

Fucking Connor half clothed was an idea that Hank had never entertained before, but damn if he wasn’t thinking about it now. Fuck. It’d be so dirty like that. Hank bit down on his lip even harder and forced himself to shake his head. “You need to cool it with the analysis,” he said, using his grip on Connor to push him down onto the bed. “Just… slow down, alright? There’s no rush. I…”

Hank felt his face burn hot. Connor stared up at him, content to let him hold him in place despite the fact that he could break the hold easily if he so chose.

“I want to undress you myself,” Hank mumbled, staring at Connor’s shirt to avoid seeing how the android took that. “This is your first time, right? I’m not going to rush it.”

Connor sat without a word. His hands stayed in Hank’s until he realized he needed to let go. “There’s no need to be so considerate,” Connor said quietly, looking at Hank with wide, curious eyes. “It’s impossible for you to hurt me by moving too fast.”

Hank sighed and gave in to the urge to rub the back of his neck. “Just… Just scoot up a bit more, alright? It’s not about hurting you. It’s about doing this properly.” Fuck, did he even have lube left? He rarely kept that around anymore. A quick jerk off in the shower was all he managed to get by with these days. He glanced at Connor as the android seated himself in the center of the bed. He rested his hands on his bare thighs, and that was somehow worse than before.

“I don’t mind either way,” Connor said matter-of-factly. “I just want to have sex with you.”

Jesus fucking Christ. Hank groaned, “Goddammit, Connor.”

When it came down to it... that’s all Hank wanted too. He couldn’t begrudge Connor for being so blunt about it. Hank fisted his hair in a hand, sucked in a deep breath, and climbed onto the bed, blood too hot to fret about stupid shit anymore. Connor moved his hands and leaned back a little, parting his thighs as if he expected it to happen right away. It wouldn’t, though. They were going to take their damn time with this, Connor’s assertions be damned.

Kissing seemed like the best way to get things going. Hank hooked his hand around Connor’s head, tugging him forward until they were close enough to share breath. Connor stared into his eyes. His LED flashed. Processing. Processing. Hank closed the distance between them, kissing him before he could catch up. And this time, Connor did it right. His eyes slowly closed and he leaned into Hank’s touch. Soft lips, a warm tongue. Overwhelmingly human but for the taste. Connor tasted like nothing. Like a blank canvas waiting for a brush, and when he parted his lips, Hank deepened it, content to be that brush for as long as he could get away with it.

As they kissed, Hank let his other hand wander. Down Connor’s shoulder to his waist, and then lower still. He shifted a little and squeezed Connor’s impossibly smooth thigh. God, his body was perfect. Absolutely perfect. He stroked the patch of skin between Connor’s hip and groin, thumb catching on the edge of his briefs. Young and fit and still soft in a way he never thought an android could be. Hank opened his eyes and broke the kiss, catching his breath against Connor’s cheek. Fuck, he was hard already. It’d been too long since he’d last done something like this. He glanced down, eager to see Connor’s reaction.

Instead, Hank froze.

“Hank?” Connor breathed, his voice tickling Hank’s cheek. “Is something wrong?”

Is something wrong. Well, that really depended, didn’t it? “Is this… I mean, like…” Hank grimaced, staring at Connor’s blank expression. Fuck, this was awkward.

Connor just cocked his head. It looked far too innocent, clashing with his half debauched state in the worst way. “Is this what, Hank?” he wondered.

Fuck. Hank brought his hand to Connor’s cheek, warring with himself on the sleaziness of it all. “Is this like… doing anything for you?” he got out reluctantly. He tried not to stare at Connor’s crotch, but with the shorts gone and his tight black briefs the only thing left on his lower half, he felt like it was a more honest judge than Connor’s face.

“You’re asking if your touch makes me experience sexual desire,” Connor gathered evenly, leaning into Hank’s hand.

“Yes, Connor,” Hank sighed. He gave the android an unimpressed look. “I’m asking if this makes you feel good.”

Dark brown eyes met his own, the LED on Connor’s forehead flashing yellow for a few seconds. “It’s not one of my primary functions,” he said, no doubt only just checking for himself. “But I seem to possess the capability. I am not as equipped as models intended for sexual use. Would you like me to download new protocols for this? I can cycle through various personas until we find one that suits you.”

Hank was shaking his head before he really processed what Connor was offering. He let go of Connor’s cheek to hold his shoulder instead. “Absolutely not,” he muttered, feeling like a skeevy old man. Connor really was a virgin, more so in a sense since he didn’t even know how to act without additional software.

Connor blinked at him, pressing his hands together. His long, slender fingers were beautiful, really. Not at all like Hank’s rough ones. “Then… how would you like me to act, Hank?” the android asked.

“Shit, Connor, I want you to act like you,” he said exasperatedly. He looked at Connor and rubbed at his eyes, wondering if this had been a bad idea. “I want you to feel good. I want you to enjoy yourself.”

Another whirl of yellow. It took a few seconds for it to turn blue. Connor blinked and then nodded. “I’ve turned on my pleasure sensors,” he reported with a chipper smile. “I have very limited experience to offer you, so please let me know if I’m lacking in any way.”

It was Hank’s turn to blink blankly. He may have even gaped a little. “You… You what?”

Connor reached for Hank’s fallen hand and brought it back to his cheek. This time, instead of just staring at him, he leaned into Hank’s touch, the ghost of a gasp issuing from his parted lips. When Hank stroked his cheekbone with an errant swipe of his thumb… Connor closed his eyes.

“I turned on my pleasure sensors,” he repeated, quieter now. “I’ll feel and experience your touch differently now.”

Hank swallowed the knee jerk urge to ask Differently how? Asking was a cop out. He leaned in a little closer and guided Connor down, cradling his head in his hand until it rested against a pillow. A bit of a blush teased Connor’s high cheekbones. Fuck, he was gorgeous.

“Connor?”

“Yes, Hank?” Connor whispered.

“Let me know if you don’t like something I do,” Hank said, bringing a hand to the hem of Connor’s damp shirt. He let the tips of his fingers trail along Connor’s hip, and he shivered when Connor fidgeted in response. “Alright?”

Connor closed his fingers around a handful of bedding, nodding his head. “Alright, Hank.”

It was a bit… unsettling? Yeah, unsettling, having to do this with Connor watching him so intently. His big, curious eyes never left Hank for an instant. Hank tried to ignore the way it made him sweat, and instead set himself to testing the waters. It’d been a very long time since he’d last fallen into bed with someone. Even longer still since he had to be the one to guide a virgin through the pitfalls and pleasures of sex. There was a lot of pressure to do it right. Doubly so given what Connor was, what he was offering when he looked at Hank and told him he wanted him. This had to be good. It had to be perfect.

Hank started slow. Connor was already laying down, and if he’d never had his pleasure sensors on before, it’d be best to see how he took a little fondling before they got to anything more intense. He reached out a hand and slipped it beneath Connor’s shirt. He pulled back a little when Connor flinched at the touch.

“Everything okay?” he asked, wondering if this was in fact the worst idea he’d ever had.

Connor, though, was quick to shake his head no. “I’m fine,” he whispered, relaxing again when Hank began tugging his shirt higher. “The change in sensitivity is something I am still becoming accustomed to. Please, pay me no mind.”

And sensitive he was. Hank watched Connor fidget against the sheets as his skin was bared to the open air. His flat stomach, his cute navel, higher and higher until the teasing slip of his chest peeked past the damp shirt. Hank’s eyes roved over all of it, drinking in the sight of a perfect body made real. Connor was quiet. Hank… He wanted to change that.

He started by lowering his head to kiss everything he saw.

Connor’s skin tasted like rain. Against Hank’s lips it felt just as soft and warm as any human’s might, perfect in every way. Hank laid himself out along Connor’s body, his hands roving beneath the damp shirt, his lips and tongue exploring the chest that had been teasing him since they got home. Connor wiggled and arched. The scrape of Hank’s beard against his skin earned him a low, broken keen.

“Pleasure sensors, huh?” Hank mused, kissing a nipple too cute to leave alone. “How much can you feel?”

The LED spiraled yellow. It took Connor a few seconds to find his voice. “My sensors correlate with a typical human’s erogenous zones,” he rattled off, closing his eyes to gasp when Hank rolled the pad of a thumb over a nipple. “Stimulation of a sexual nature sends impulses to my neural networks to simulate endorphin production.”

“In English, Connor.” Hank pushed the damp shirt higher, rucking it under Connor’s arms until his entire chest was on display. He glanced down. Something was tenting those tight little briefs of his now. He reached out with his fingertips to touch. Connor whimpered pitifully.

“I feel what you are doing to me,” he rushed, voice anything but unaffected. His thighs twitched as Hank traced the shape of his cock through the fabric of his briefs. What did it look like? How lifelike was it? “I… Hank, please. Is this teasing?”

“Is this teasing,” Hank huffed, smiling despite himself. He gave Connor a humored look and hooked his fingers in the waistband of his briefs, tugging them down his thighs. Connor lifted his hips helpfully, almost eager to be rid of them, and that left the android naked but for his the shirt under his arms and the artificial blush tinging his cheeks red. Hank let out a low whistle.

Cyberlife had outdone themselves with Connor. Hank had limited experience with androids, sure, and even that job at the Eden Club failed to really give him much indication as to how realistic android anatomy normally was, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Connor was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Models couldn’t boast of this kind of perfection. Hank drew his hand down Connor’s hip, ghosting his knuckles along a slender thigh. Connor’s cock was already erect. Flushed slightly at the tip, it looked as picture perfect as the rest of him.

A modest five or so inches long and slender like the rest of him. His balls were tight and so completely unnecessary given what Connor was, but accuracy was important in these things, Hank had to think.

When he took Connor in hand and got a choked little yelp in return, it hit Hank that they were really about to do this. This. Sex. With Connor. He never thought he’d see the day where he wished he’d paid more attention to the break room talk that always rose up after long weekends. The beat cops weren’t strangers to the clubs. As nauseating as it had been, it might have proven education at a time like this. Trailing his fingers along the length, Hank let out a huff. “Can you… come?” he asked, glancing up at Connor’s dazed face. God, he looked so good like this.

“Y-Yes,” the android said, voice shaking slightly as his hips sought more from his hand in little abortive thrusts. “I’m able to ejaculate once optimal stimulation is achieved.”

Hank gripped Connor fully in his palm and gave him a few pointed strokes. “If you can still manage to say the word “ejaculate,” I’m obviously not touching you enough.” He shook his head in disbelief, his expression softening when Connor let out a broken moan. The flushed tip of his cock was beginning to bead with something that looked an awful lot like precum. “What is this stuff?”

Connor forced his eyes to open so he could look down at what Hank meant. He didn’t manage to look for long; his eyes shut tightly a second later, his head rolling back on the pillow to face the ceiling instead. “A composite mixture of biodegradable lubricant and non-toxic binder to achieve a c-consistency synon- ngh , synonymous with human e-e-ejac-” He stammered on the word, letting out a gasp that sounded like something from a porno. “H-Hank, I c-can’t focus like this.”

Hank, who had been speeding up the movements of his hand the longer Connor made his explanation, just grinned. “That’s the point, Connor,” he said, leaning down to chase Connor’s lips with his own. He found them easily enough, kissing Connor until he was sure the android was nearing the point of no return. He could feel how tight his body was wound. The LED cycled through a burst of yellow to blue to yellow again. He pulled away and slowed his hand when it settled on yellow fully.

It took a few moments for Connor to open his eyes. A smattering of heartbeats in the darkness. His fingers clutched the sheets beneath him, and when he finally looked at Hank, it was with awe in his dark, dark eyes. His cock twitched against his thigh, flushed like the real thing.

“That felt… That felt nice,” he breathed, his voice just a whisper. Wide eyed and innocent, he looked to Hank for more.

“It’ll get better,” Hank promised him, leaning back to rest on his haunches. “Take off your shirt. It’ll just get in the way.”

Sitting up, Connor shucked his shirt and held it a little awkwardly in his hand. “Are you going to undress, too?” he asked, setting his shirt aside when he realized it might get ruined if he kept it near. Naked and flushed, his gaze sent Hank’s heart pounding harder than the run had.

The question didn’t help things in the slightest. Hank stiffened a little and glanced down at the damp sweats he still wore. His dick was about as hard as sheetrock, and with all the excitement going on, he was sweating beneath the thick layers. He rested a hand on his stomach and winced. He hadn’t been jogging nearly enough to make him want to be on display with someone like Connor in the room.

“Nah,” he said, looking up. “You don’t want to see all this.”

Connor cocked his head a little, leaning back on his hands with his legs spread just enough to be salacious. “What makes you think that?” he wondered quietly, LED light casting his body in a pale blue glow. All it accomplished was showcasing just how beautiful he was. Hank felt like glancing down would be enough to answer the question for him. But, knowing Connor, he wouldn’t grasp the obvious quite so easily.

Hank shifted on the bed, his fingers worrying at the ratty hem of his sweater. Some old police academy thing, worn out in places and only good for getting stained or ripped or sweated on. He tried to ignore the obvious parallels. “Shit, Connor, because why would you?” He let go of his shirt to rub at his eyes. If there was one way to kill a hard on, this might be it. “I’m not exactly a spring chicken.”

“No,” Connor said, still staring, still hard, still unbearably attractive. “You’re Hank.”

“Yeah, and Hank is a… a… What are you doing?” The question nearly didn’t make it out. Hank swallowed on nothing, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth as Connor laid back on the bed and spread his legs. A graceful hand moved between them, brushing past his hard cock to probe at his entrance carefully.

“I want to have sex with you,” Connor said with a determined air. His brow was even furrowed in concentration. “I’d like it if you took your clothes off. Either way, I’m going to have sex with you. Because I want you.”

“...Goddammit, Connor,” Hank muttered, closing his eyes before he lost control entirely. With a deep breath and another muffled swear, Hank yanked off his shirt and tossed it off the bed. The cool air of the bedroom prickled his skin uncomfortably, but the look Connor gave him warmed him back up immediately. It was a struggle to meet Connor’s gaze head on. He managed somehow, but only because he had to. “At least let me do that.”

Connor moved his hand away immediately. A ruse. His smile was bright enough to soothe away Hank’s frustration, though. “Of course, Hank,” he murmured, lifting a hand to Hank’s chest. His fingers were warm when they touched, gentle as they assessed his soft flesh and the hair thick along his sternum. They paused on a scar here or there. Bullet wounds and surgeries over the years had left their mark. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to ask about them. But only for a moment.

Dark eyes met Hank’s. “Please remove your pants, Hank,” Connor requested, letting his hand fall to his side. “Then we can begin.”

This was fucking unreal. All of it. Every last bit. Hank swallowed roughly, letting out a hiss of a sigh as he yanked the sweats off his hips and down his legs. It was graceless and rough; they tangled around his ankles a bit and Hank grunted as he kicked at them until they fell to the floor. The cool air raised the hair on his thighs and arms, but the precise, focused look in Connor’s watchful eyes warmed him back up again before it could do more than make Hank shiver.

“Happy now?” Hank asked.

Connor nodded. “Very. Now,” he said, looking between Hank’s legs and then his own. “How do we proceed?”

Proceed? That was an awfully polite way to put it. Hank raised a brow and leaned a little closer, shuffling until he was situated between Connor’s parted legs. He ran a hand down the length of a thigh, squeezing when Connor’s eyelids fluttered from the touch. He kept a careful eye on Connor’s expression as he moved his hand higher, and then higher, and then higher still. He gave Connor’s cock a pump before moving his fingers lower to prod at the silken skin of his entrance.

“I don’t think I can fuck you,” Hank said reluctantly, surprising himself a little at how husky his voice had become.

“And… And why is that, Hank?” Connor’s cheeks were flushed a dark pink, his hips making little twitches as if seeking out Hank’s fingers. “I believe I’ve been adamant about my desire. Are you having doubts?”

Hank rolled his eyes, punishing Connor a little with a hard swipe of his thumb along the underpart of his balls. Connor let out a startled huff, his body locking up tight. “No, you fucking brat,” he muttered, apologizing with a gentle stroke of his thumb that had Connor shivering. “I don’t have any lube. I’m not about to fuck you dry, so…”

Connor’s LED went yellow. It should have been the clue Hank needed to know something was up, but he was probably a shittier detective than he thought since he couldn’t anticipate feeling something wet brush his fingers in the next instant.

“What the fuck!” he rushed, jerking back his hand. Hank looked from Connor face to between his legs, then to his hand. His fingers were damp with something shiny. Connor’s entrance was likewise slick. “What the fuck is this, Connor?”

“You said we required lubricant,” the android said as innocently as anything. “I’ve merely provided it myself since you were lacking your own.”

“You… you what?” Hank slowly brought his hand back down to touch what had only just seconds before been warm, dry skin. It was still plenty warm, but a cursory probe told him that Connor had coated his insides with whatever this gel stuff was. Hank bit his lip when a rush of warmth passed over him. Fuck. Fuck, that was… That was really fucking hot, wasn’t it?

Shit, Connor was talking again.

“-and it’s merely a collection of lubricants used to better my movements internally,” he said, knee deep in an explanation of what he must have thought Hank meant by his exclamation. “It’s non-toxic and readily available. Though not its intended purpose, it should suit us for the moment until you can procure lubricant of a better quality for next time.”

“N-Next time?” Hank laughed, propping himself over Connor with a hand while his other one gave in to the urge to see how tight an android was. “Haven’t even had me once and you already think you’re gonna want to go again.” The first finger went inside easily, Connor’s walls silky smooth and slicked perfectly as if he’d already been fingered for an hour before this moment. God, if that wasn’t hot. Fuck.

“I like you, Hank.” Connor shivered and spread his thighs a little wider, glancing at Hank through his lashes. “There’s no need for you to worry about preparation. You can’t hurt me.”

Hank pressed another finger in alongside the first, knowing it was true. Connor opened up beautifully for him, his head falling back as he gasped and shifted impatiently. Every inch of him was on display like this, every insufferably perfect inch. He twitched and arched and sought out the slow, probing fingers. “If you think I’m going to take a shortcut and miss this show, you’ve got another thing coming, Connor.”

Connor’s cock twitched at the words. A bead of his precum teased the head of it when Hank tried scissoring his fingers, and he had to clap a hand down on Connor’s hip to keep him flat against the bed. Hank leaned closer, kissing Connor’s stomach, then his ribs, then up his chest and neck until he reached his soft lips. A third finger was accepted just as eagerly as the two before it. Hank kissed Connor through his shuddering gasp, savoring everything about this moment.

He kept up the torment for another few minutes. Every time Connor tried to move things along or rush him, Hank would hold him down and kiss him until he settled. A heady thing, really. Connor was stronger than him. Hank could feel it in the moments when he lost a little control and bucked too hard or gripped too tight to his shoulders. He was so strong but he still let Hank hold him down, let him hold him still for another kiss that didn’t seem to satisfy him like it had before.

Hank pulled his fingers free and coated his own cock with the slick covering his hand. Connor stared at him with dark, glassy eyes. “You sure you want this?” Hank asked, because he had to fucking ask a thousand times more before he even came close to believing it was true. “We can still stop if you don’t.”

“Shut up, Hank,” Connor gasped, lifting his hips for the stimulation he wasn’t getting. “Just shut up and fuck me.”

“Oh, so now you’re gonna call it fucking?” Hank gripped himself at the base to hold his dick steady, hooking one of Connor’s thighs over his hip to give himself a little more room to work. The head of his cock teased the soft, wet pink of Connor’s entrance. God, was he really going to do this? Connor looked at him with his dark eyes, so young and gorgeous. He could have anyone he wanted but… but he wanted Hank. This was such a fucking clusterfuck, but Hank knew his hesitation wouldn’t be put up with for long.

“Hank, please—”

“Fuck, Connor, I’m going,” he grunted, his cheeks burning a little as he leaned himself over Connor and sought out his hand to hold. Sentimental of him, but he couldn’t help it. He glanced at Connor’s face and forced himself not to look away. He moved his hips forward. He pressed inside without another backwards glance.

Connor’s hand fit perfectly with his own. Sappy of him to notice, but he couldn’t quite help it either. Their fingers interlocked as their bodies came together, the warm, soft tightness so good that Hank had to think he was dreaming. Everything about this moment was perfect; from Connor’s body to the tight little expression he wore on his face, it all felt like something not meant for him. Dark brown eyes stared at him like he were God. Lips parted, cheeks flushed, Connor let out a shiver and a broken moan, his body opening like a flower in the morning light to embrace Hank entirely.

“Oh, fuck, fuck,” Hank wheezed, tightening his grip on Connor’s slender hands. If Connor had been a human, he might worry about hurting him. But Connor wasn’t human, and Hank’s grip wasn’t strong enough to bruise artificial flesh. “Jesus Christ, Connor. You’re so fucking tight.”

“I’m sorry,” Connor breathed, biting down on his lip in an overwhelmingly human gesture. His cock nearly weeped between their bodies. “I can… I can loosen the—”

“Don’t you fucking think about it,” Hank snarled, pinning Connor to the bed as if that would be enough to keep him from changing anything about this moment. “I don’t want you doing anything but enjoying yourself, you hear me?”

A whimper. Connor closed his eyes and turned his face towards the pillows, nodding his head to show he heard. Hank buried his face in Connor’s neck, licking and biting and sucking marks that wouldn’t take. Fuck, he was so tight. Virgin tight even though he showed no sign of the pain that sort of thing usually brought with it. Connor squeezed Hank’s hands, moaning softly from the kissing. Hank rolled his hips forward, coaxing that moan a little louder.

“How’s it feel?” Hank asked, trailing kisses along Connor’s neck, his cheek. God, it was so hard to take things slow when it felt this fucking good. Connor’s cock was trapped between their stomachs. Hank pressed them closer together, rocking into him with long, smooth thrusts. “You feel good? You like it?”

Connor furrowed his brow and closed his eyes, wiggling this way and that and going ramrod straight when Hank fucked into him hard enough to scoot him an inch up the bed. “H-Hank,” he stammered, shivering from head to toe. “It’s… It’s a lot. I can’t- I’m not- I like it,” he choked, meeting Hank’s gaze with a wanton look on his face. “I like it. Feels good. I can’t think. More.”

What sort of pleasure was he feeling? Did it feel anything like how Hank felt? His blood on fire and his hands sweating, that punch-you-in-the-gut kind of light-headedness that only came from wanting more of another’s body? Hank shifted his knees on the sheets and rolled his hips forward, harder and faster, smooth but still forceful, chasing that broken little keen of Connor’s with a kiss too deep too keep up for long. Hank struggled to catch his breath when Connor didn’t need to breathe. The bed squeaked and creaked, thudding against the wall.

“Hank,” Connor wheezed. “Ha-Hank, I’m—”

Connor’s entire body seized up. His hands tightened on Hank’s and his spine arched like a bow. The LED on his temple flared yellow, yellow, red for a split second— He’s coming , Hank realized. The thought was all it took to do him in as well.

It was too soon. Embarrassingly soon, really, but Hank comforted himself with the thought that Connor still came first. Despite wanting to watch, to see what Connor’s orgasm looked like up close, Hank could only groan and close his eyes. Stupid of him to miss it, but keeping cool right now was too much to expect after an evening like this. Hank squeezed Connor’s hands and fucked into him like his life depended on it, thrusting as the white overtook his vision and the pleasure wiped out everything else. His body ached and his face hid itself in Connor’s hair.

Too good. It all felt too good.

A less enlightened man might say an orgasm was an orgasm no matter where it came from. Hank, on the other hand, felt this one hit him right between the eyes. It was Connor , he thought, the only thought in fact that managed to permeate the din of his sluggish mind. Connor in his bed, Connor he was inside, Connor who was coming in thick bursts against his stomach, the mess smearing them both.

Hank groaned at the warmth of it, the stickiness. Connor would be an utter mess once this was done; Hank hadn’t had the foresight to pull out before coming inside him. But somehow he managed the foresight to pull out and roll off of Connor before he collapsed on top of him completely. Somehow. Hank collapsed onto the bed beside Connor’s body in a limp pile of too-hot flesh and sweaty bliss. Connor followed him as he went, clinging to his hand as if he didn’t want to be apart from him just yet. Hank hid behind his free hand, fisting his fingers in his sweaty hair.

God. God-fucking-damn.

It took Hank an embarrassingly long time to catch his breath. Fuck, he really was out of shape. He let his arm slide off his face and flop on the bed beside him, the cool air slowly drying the sweat on his brow as his body winded back down. It’d been way too long since he’d last gotten off like that. Every nerve in his body felt like it was singing, that bone-deep weariness a long forgotten friend in the wake of all the nights he’d spent alone. Hank turned his head and looked to see how Connor was faring. It made him a little nervous when the android got too quiet.

He shouldn’t have worried. Connor was laying on his side, pink-cheeked and smiling that weird little smile of his. Despite being covered in cum and that… that artificial lube and stuff, he seemed infinitely happy. Happy and preoccupied, Hank noticed, frowning a little when he caught sight of the yellow glow bathing Connor’s face. The hell could he be processing at a time like this?

“What’s up?” Hank asked hoarsely, tapping at Connor’s spinning LED. “Thought I fucked you hard enough to shut off your processor for a few minutes.”

Connor smiled and batted away his hand. He rested his head on the pillow, his processing light turning from yellow to a calming blue. “I was just calculating the estimated number of calories you just burned,” he reported helpfully. “The number is one hundred and seventeen, a bit higher than the projected average.”

Hank’s mouth fell open in a gape. Connor cocked his head but kept talking. Because of course he did.

“The average caloric loss during the average four mile run for a human of your body type is somewhere around four hundred and fifty calories,” Connor said, “so, if this sort of activity is preferable to you over running, perhaps we should consider substituting it as your daily exercise of choice.”

“Connor, what the—”

“Of course,” the android charged on, “we would need to do it at least four times a day to equate the same caloric loss as a run, so—”

That was it. That was… That was so far beyond anything Hank could handle right now, and he made it known by grabbing the nearest pillow and shoving it over Connor’s face. “Jesus fuck, Connor,” he wheezed. “Are you trying to kill me?”

The pillow was pulled away. Connor looked at him with wide, sweet eyes, his lips curled upwards into a smile. “I think that’s the exact opposite of what my words imply,” he murmured, inching a little closer to Hank. With him this close, it was hard to be annoyed. Hank fought to frown. When Connor nuzzled his shoulder with his cheek, he lost the battle entirely.

Hank let out a low sigh and sagged into the bedding. He wrapped his arm around Connor, staring up at the ceiling with utter resignation. “You really like doing it with me that much, huh?” he mused, only half joking. An old man like him. Fuck.

“I like doing most things with you, Hank.” He turned his head at that. Connor smiled at him. “This was very enjoyable. Naturally, I don’t have much grounds for comparison, but you were able to skillfully bring me to clim—”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough outta you,” Hank said, drowning out Connor as he rolled onto his side. His face felt decidedly hot and he didn’t need Connor pointing that out too. “It’s bedtime now. No more talking, you got that? Power down or whatever it is you do at night.”

Connor went stiff in his arms. “You want me to stay here?” he wondered, voice quiet. Hank had his eyes closed. He could imagine the expression Connor wore and he was pretty sure he didn’t want to see it. “You want me to… to sleep with you?”

“You like doing things with me, right?” Hank still cracked open an eye, his heart giving a funny little squeeze when he saw how Connor smiled. He closed his eyes once more, a wry smile quirking his own lips. “Might as well do this too.”

“Hank…”

“Shh.” Hank threw an arm over Connor’s waist and shoved the other beneath the pillow. It’d been ages since he’d last slept with someone else. He’d nearly forgotten how to do it. Lucky for him that Connor didn’t really need to sleep. It wouldn’t matter if he held him wrong. He still tried harder to do it right, though. Connor… Connor deserved the effort.

“Goodnight, Connor,” he muttered.

His face burned when he felt a kiss fall on his cheek.

“Goodnight, Hank. Sleep well.” Hank grunted and held him a little tighter.

It wasn’t perfect. Hank was sticky and aching, and Connor wasn’t as soft as a human might be in a similar position. The LED on his forehead was bright in the dark room, and even when Hank closed his eyes, he could still see the calm blue glow through his eyelids, teasing him like an obnoxious bit of sunlight peeking through the blinds. But Connor was warm. He was warm and there, and when Hank shifted a little, his lips grazed a soft temple. Connor leaned into him, seeking more. More of Hank.

It wasn’t perfect.

But it could be.

#detroit: become human #fic #hank/connor #hankona #check out ao3 for the tags and such

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bubblegumdicc · 7 years ago

Text

New home

Word count- 1537 one-shot, only part. -based in past- warning for physical and verbal abuse and dubcon/noncon Master wasn't happy with them. A hand collided with the top of their head hard, making them stumble back and fall. Ouch, they fell on their tail wrong, that hurt.. they had tears welling in their sockets, but did their best not to sob, master didn't like it when they cried loudly. They'd been bad again, but master had been gone for so so long.. they knew they shouldn't have gotten out of the locked room to find some food and water, but they were just so hungry.

They hadn't had any clothes for a while, it didn't bother them being naked, until it got cold at night anyways. The door wasn't very sturdy and the wood around the latch had crumbled, so when they pulled on it, it came loose, the door swinging open. They found a small bag with kibble in it, covered in ants, but food was food and they hadn’t eaten for days. They quickly ate most of what was left, then climbed up on the counter. The sink didn't work and when they hopped down and looked out the window it appeared to be green overgrowth and trees everywhere. They didn't see any other people. They crawled through the window, it had no glass and only one board over it, that easily fell when puppet had touched it, crumbling partly as it hit the porch, filled with small bugs that scuttered about. Puppet tilted their head and looked around, before walking out into the grass. Woah.. that was soft and cool on their feet.. it felt nice.. they walked around a bit, brushing up against things and feeling the unfamiliar textures, until they found a large puddle. They quickly ran to it, leaning to drink the slightly murky water. After a few minutes, they continued wandering around, everything felt so nice out here. They spent the day out there, enjoying it immensely, until it started to get dark. They felt their soul beat starting to speed up, they didn't like the dark, even if they were in it every night, but at least that was a safe room master had given them. This was open and scarier. They had long forgotten which direction they came from, but started running. Eventually they came to a dirt path, oh! This was the path to the house masters truck drove on! They looked both ways, spotting the house down the left, and running to it, their tail the only light source now since the trees blocked most of the moonlight. They found the window they'd climbed out, climbing back in and cutting their leg, apparently there was a little bit of glass left after all. They ignored it, but master still wasn't here.. They went back to the small bag of dog food with ants, eating the rest of what was left before going back to their room. They only had one blanket there on the floor and it was falling apart. Maybe.. They could sleep on the couch without master knowing. They walked into the other room, their tail dimly lighting their way, a slanted, broken couch there, covered in stains and some green growing from the side of a cushion, along with a chunk of the cushion missing. They didn't mind though, the green was nice and only made the couch better! They nervously crawled on it with their blanket, it felt so much nicer than the floor. They curled up, pulling their blanket over them and quickly falling asleep. They heard a noise, a truck. Oh! Master was back! Like a dog always excited to see their owner, the only person puppet mostly ever seen, they got up from the couch, the sun shining through the window a little, unknown to puppet, it was already afternoon by now, they’d slept through the day. They ran to the door just as it opened, a shocked expression on their masters face, puppet had already forgotten they shouldn't be out.

They greet him happily, like they always did, eager to get interaction. This was when the slap jolted them and made them fall back. Oh right, they'd done something bad. They tried apologizing, but their master kicked them hard, taking their breath away, before grabbing them by the neck and carrying them to their room. They tossed puppet in it, before slamming the door, already busted, the slamming didn't help, pulling straight through and making him stumble from the unexpected give of old wood. He started stringing curses, blaming puppet for breaking the door. He yelled at them to stay, walking away to see that puppet had gotten blood on the couch and eaten the rest of the dog food, pissing them off more. They threw the new small bag of dog food out the window, along with the jug of water they had brought, puppet seeing partly from the other room, huddled in the corner. Their master stomped back in, grabbing them roughly, "you stupid little bitch, I'm fucking done with you!" He pushed them to the floor, and they automatically lifted their tail, knowing what he was doing. At least this time he had brought lube. After they roughly pounded into puppet, pulling out to cum on the floor, they stood up and zipped up their pants. Though this time they didn't leave puppet there like they normally did, no, this time they grabbed them roughly by the arm, dragging them to the door and outside, puppet stumbled before trying to walk to keep up as they were pulled along. They asked where they were going, getting a blunt response of "I'm getting rid of you, you stupid nuisance." They weren't surprised, though no matter how many times it happened, they still felt.. sad. Bad bad bad, they were never good enough, no one ever wanted to keep them. They were pushed down onto the floor of the truck, not allowed on the seat. He drove for a while before he stopped, harshly telling them to stay before he got out. It was several long minutes before he returned with a grocery store bag of clothes, He threw the bag at them and started driving again, telling them to get dressed. The clothes were definitely not newly bought, stained and smelled of other people, puppet didn't ask where he got them tho, not when he was this angry. There wasn’t much interesting in it, but puppet quickly picked out a blue t shirt and kitty overalls and ooh.. these things went on legs, right? They felt warm and fuzzy. Puppet hid their excitement at the pretty overalls and leggings, knowing from experience it might make him angrier to see them excited. They struggled to put them on in the floorboard, it was cramped and hard to maneuver, but they did it eventually, only the straps of the overalls unbuckled. Along the way, he had told them to keep their mouth shut and not say anything stupid, "tell them you suck dick, since that's you're only use, you dumb mutt." Puppet nodded, used to the name calling, they watched out the window, only seeing sky and glances of buildings passing by.

When they stopped, their master got out, telling them to follow out his door, they did, and he quickly buckled the overalls before lifting them up and carrying them under one arm not so gently. They were walking along the streets, and puppet watched curiously as people passed, it was kinda scary but exciting. They had stopped several times, him offering puppet to certain people he thought looked like they might be interested. One of them seemed interested, but said they didn't have the money. After that, their master lowered their price, though puppet didn't really know numbers, so they just knew he changed it. About an hour into it, he was complaining about how worthless puppet was and that no one wanted them. Puppet was used to it, not responding and simply continuing to glance around as they walked. He walked up to a skeleton monster, and puppet looked over, same joyful response they had given the others before as they were held out by their master and asked if they wanted to buy them "hello! I suck dick!" The other seemed amused by this, saying 'nice' before replying to their master. Puppet was set down, "are you gonna take me home, mister?!" They got a smack to the back of their head for that, wincing at the pain it caused their old scar. He told them the numbers and.. oh, they agreed! Puppet felt a flush of excitement, even if this wasn't the first time, it was always exciting to get to go somewhere new. Their small wings twitched as their master- old master, took the cash and walked off without even saying bye, a thrown "might wanna put em on a leash, they wander" over his shoulder. Their new master crouches down in front of them "Heya bud, I'm Tony, what do I call ya?" Puppet lights up at being spoken to at level, but averts their eyes out of respect, “Gosh! Hi Master Tony! My last Master called me Puppet, but you can rename me if you want! I’ll be really good, I promise!” They fidget with their hands, nervous and excited to be going somewhere new.

#puppet #theywrite #writing #past #new home

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thatsrightmytrash · 8 years ago

Text

Hanging on

Genre: Angst, hospital AU

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader ft Yoongi

Summary: People say that hospitals only bring death but for me they brought life.

A/N: Sorry if I have grammar mistakes, English is not my first language. THIS IS GOING TO BE A HELL OF A RIDE, IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE DO NOT READ IT.

You were torn apart between life and death, between what you were and what you wanted to be. The only thing that kept you attached to this world was cowardice, and well your older brother Namjoon; your parents had died when you were 8 years old in a car accident, so your older brother kinda raised you.

You were a normal girl, with normal dreams, studying to finish highschool, you were planning on going to an art school after graduating, renting a small apartment maybe, but you saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky. You went from being a cheerful teenager who was about to graduate, just a 17 years old girl who had life ahead of her, who had goals to achieve, people to meet, places to visit… to be a drained human being who no longer wanted to live.

You were 17 years old when you were first admitted in a hospital; you were at physical education class at school when you suddenly fainted for the first of many more times. You were rushed to the hospital in an unconscious state, after hours of what it felt like an eternity, they told you that you had a heart disease and needed to operate you and after that everything was going to be alright.

But it wasn’t.

You were fine for 2 months until it happened again; you fainted, vision turning into black before you could wake up again between tubes and machines, they had rushed you to hospital and you had another surgery, you stayed 1 month in a hospital bed wondering if you were gonna make it or not.

Things got better, at least you weren’t lying in a hospital bed anymore, you could stay at home, in the comfort of your bed, you enjoyed going for a walk around the neighborhood, which was one of the only activities you could do, that and read or watch a movie. People can’t imagine how much free time you have when you are this sick, you remembered going to school before everything and wanting to have some free time to just sleep but after the incident all you wanted was to just go to school again even work you wouldn’t care.

You had to take 15 different pills almost every day and go to the hospital every twice a week to be checked. You couldn’t do exercise, you couldn’t run or agitate in any way, you had to finish school in your house with tutoring classes, you weren’t even able to assist your own graduation. Life was a hell and you asked yourself everynight; why you?

You liked the solitude but sometimes it got bothersome, sometimes you longed for a normal life, you wanted to be able to go out at night and dance your worries away, drink and meet people, have friends, maybe even have a boyfriend who knows? Having a normal teenager life but your reality was far from that.

Your friends started to visit you less often, you understood, they had graduated, they got better things to do than visit a sick person who couldn’t do anything, so they continued with their lives while you were stuck in this infinite hell.

Namjoon was everything you had and you were everything he had too, he hated seeing you deteriorate with time, hated seeing you lose all hope and joy you once had, in a certain way you lost your youth and you lost yourself along with it. That’s why he would do anything to make you a happier, he would work for hours without a rest to have enough money to pay your medical treatment, he usually bought you little presents, made you homemade meals even when he was awful at it, brought you new books to read and new music to listen to. He was one of the only things that made you continue on living. You were not going to lie; you thought many times about… ending things, but you couldn’t do that to your brother; you were his everything after your parents passed away and the simplest thought of losing you would be heartrending.

But things are never that easy.

It was a rainy Sunday; Namjoon was sleeping after a busy Saturday. Sundays were his only free day so you left him to rest while you dressed yourself in your flowery rain poncho and water boots.

You loved rainy days; the sound of water drops crashing to the ground calmed you down and made you forget about your reality for a while, you also loved the scent of fresh rain called petrichor. The way people would seclude themselves in their homes and nature would go out to play. These were the days were you were just a normal girl walking down the street, with her water boots on, stepping on puddles of water, not a sick young woman who couldn’t even dance because her heart could crumble down at any second.

It was pitiful and frustrating at the same time not being able to run, to dance, to not do anything really because you could die at any minute.

The day was just perfect, you were walking down the street with an umbrella above you, rain wasn’t strong so you didn’t really get wet.

You could smell every centimeter of land and wet grass around you, the weather wasn’t too hot or too cold which was nice, fresh air filled the place as a dog was drinking water from a puddle across the street when he saw you and started walking happily to you wagging his tail.

Everything happened too quickly.

When you noticed, a car was coming quickly towards the dog, without thinking twice you rushed towards him to move him away, horns filled the air and you could heard the grinding of the wheels on the wet asphalt, before you felt a low blow in your heart and your vision turned into black once again.

It seemed like only seconds when your vision somehow returned, blurred, vague and unclear, a loud buzzing in your ears, you could hear and feel the blood pumping quickly into your heart, as if it was going to come out of your chest at any moment, sounds of sirens and people shouting.

"Blood pressure rising! 80 over 60! "The voices were distant; you couldn’t understand exactly what they were saying.

"Calm down, honey, we got you" a female voice told you before you fainted again.

When you opened your eyes again you didn’t understand very well where you were before you realized. Having been through this situation other times; The hospital smell of strong antiseptics, the uncomfortable bed, the machine beeps, were something you already knew very well to not distinguish, there was something that you felt very well and it was that your chest ached.

"Please don’t leave me". You heard a male voice that finished waking you up from your lethargy.

Slowly you completely opened your eyes; the bright white light of the hospital room hurt your eyes. You felt a small squeeze in your right arm and when you directed the look you found Namjoon totally terrified and downhearted with his eyes red and watery.

"God, I thought you weren’t going to wake up, please don’t do this to me again." Namjoon gently hugged you like you were a porcelain doll that could break at any moment.

"How many ... how many hours have I slept this time?" You murmured, the words hurt in your throat.

"2 days" He gulped heavily. "I thought I was never going to hear your voice again," he pressed your hands in his as if it were the only thing that tied you to this world.

"2 ... 2 days? I do not remember what happened, there was a dog, and I-“ 2 days had been much more than you had been asleep before, your maximum had been 19 hours.

"Shh ... shh, silly Y/N putting the life of a dog before her own life, the driver of the car said he saw you running in front of him towards the dog, luckily he was able to stop in time, but then ... you fainted" It was hard to utter the last word because with it bad things always came.

"I'm sorry, you don’t know how sorry I am" you hugged your brother tightly as you could, trying not to unplug any tubes around you.

Before you could say anything else the door to the room opened, and a man in a white coat and round glasses came in, he was young; he would be about 27 years old at most.

"Mrs Y / N, I am your doctor Kim Jiyong, cardiology specialist." The young doctor shook hands with you and then with Namjoon. “I imagine you have many questions, but first, how do you feel?"

"I feel ... my chest hurts." You murmured lowering your head to look in between your hospital gown to the scar that was a little more to the left side of your chest. "Where's Dr. Lee?" Your usual doctor was a 50-year-old man named Lee.

"Don’t worry, it's normal in your condition to feel pain in that area, I'm sorry to tell you that Mr. Lee has been transferred to another hospital ..." He paused for a second and then continued. "I have bad news and good news, which do you prefer to start with?" He uttered.

You looked at him for a second and without thinking twice you said; "First the bad ones".

"Your condition has gotten worse, I'm afraid you need a heart transplant." He simply announced. The words you were most afraid to hear from the first time you were hospitalized; getting a heart transplant was difficult, you were young and sure you were higher than other people on the waiting list but you had no money, for wealthy elders it was easier to get transplants.

"The good news is that while you wait for one you will be transferred to the National Hospital of Seoul University. It is one of the best in the country and they have a special program for young adults like you" He continued.

Seoul? Leaving your town to go to Seoul was something you had always dreamed of but you weren’t sure anymore.

You looked at your brother with furrowed eyebrows, but he didn’t seem to notice. "Thank you doctor, we will do that." He affirmed.

"I'm glad about it, although you must wait a few weeks until Y/N’s condition stabilizes, any doubts you have don’t hesitate to ask me, I'll let you rest" And with that the doctor left.

"Namjoon oppa, we have no money and you know, we could never afford that hospital." You croaked. The weight of the words transplant resounded in your mind.

"We will sell the house of our parents, I will work the double, I don’t care y/ n, I will do anything I can". He sounded confident but the look in his eyes said something different.

"How can you say that? That house is the only thing we have, "you cried with tears forming in your eyes.

Namjoon approached you and wiped the tears of your cheeks gently with his thumb "The material doesn’t matter, the only thing we have is each other" he brought your head to his chest so that you could rest in it.

"Everything will be fine this time I promise." He murmured.

With a few strokes in your hair you closed your eyes falling asleep deeply.

Two weeks passed by before you could leave the hospital, the pain in your chest was gone, but you had the constant reminder in your mind that you couldn’t live with the heart you had right now. Doubt and uncertainty grew within you; Namjoon had assured you that he would do everything in his power to ensure your well-being. He had an old friend in Seoul who had gotten him a job and they had already got buyers for your parents' house.

You couldn’t avoid feeling useless and guilty anyway. Your brother worked for hours without rest, he left all his dreams behind of becoming an artist so that you could have a treatment. The house that your parents had so hard to obtain, the house where your brother and you were raised, where you grew up, wouldn’t be yours anymore, and you couldn’t imagine that in a few weeks you wouldn’t be sleeping there anymore and instead a family of three Children, wife and husband would live happily in it.

When you looked at the packaging boxes where your belongings were stored, you couldn’t believe that your life fit in three simple cardboard boxes. Clothes, shoes, a few books and a box with pictures of your whole life were the only things you took with you to Seoul. Namjoon had rented a small apartment for him near the hospital where you would be living for the next few months until you get a transplant and given that you would live in the hospital you couldn’t take too many things even if you wanted.

You took one last look at your room when you heard a knock on your door.

"Come in!" You shouted.

"Are you ready to leave? Jin is waiting for us in the car outside" Seokjin was Namjoon's old friend who lived in Seoul, you knew him from a young age and you were grateful that he was still your brother's friend after all the things that had happened, it was already too much that you had lost your own friends, you would never have forgiven yourself if it had happened the same to your brother because of you, after all he had also separated from his friends because he didn’t have too much time to see or talk to them, having to be work all the time. But Jin had always been there, even after moving to Seoul, they kept talking as usual.

"Yes, I just need a few seconds to ... say goodbye" you murmured the last word and looked at him with pleading eyes.

"I understand, I'll give you a few minutes." he shut the door and let you be.

You looked at your room one last time, trying to remember all the good moments that had happened there, the times that your mother told you tales by the side of your bed, and the times that your father kissed you goodnight, how you used to build pillows shelters with Namjoon when you were kids, and the times you woke up in your room magically after having slept on the sofa.

You left the room and closed the door without looking back, that way was easier to forget and walked down the stairs to give a last look to the rest of the house, this would always be your home whatever happened, no matter how much time passed or who live in it.

You locked the front door and headed to Jin's car where Namjoon and he talked, leaning on the car with smiles on their faces. You smiled to see the scene in front of your eyes; you always wanted to see your brother that way, happy.

"Hi Y / N!" As soon as Jin saw you, he approached you and gave you a warm hug. Jin was like your other big brother.

"Hello, Granny," you laughed, granny was the nickname you and Namjoon used since you had memory.

"YAH! Do not call me that, just because I'm a responsible adult doesn’t mean I'm a granny, I have fun too "Namjoon laughed and added" Yes, fun of the prehistory ". Everyone cackled at the comment, reviving old times.

Namjoon opened the back door of the car for you to come in and arranged a pillow for you to rest during the trip.

"Do you have everything? Your medicines? Your toothbrush, your blood presure cuff? "he babbled quickly.

"Yes Mom, I have everything" you answered tolling your eyes while he and Jin settled in their respective places. Jin started the engine and slowly moved away from your home.

You turned your head to look through the glass behind the car, your house of a lifetime becoming smaller and smaller.

The trip was short; Namjoon and Jin spent it talking and you listening to music, talking to them from time to time. For a moment you felt like this was a normal road trip for 3 friends and not what it really was. You pushed the bad thoughts to the back of your mind and let the imagination run free without worry of your hard reality for a while.

You arrived Seoul at night, you had been a few times in the city before but every time you looked at it, it seemed to be the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, colored lights, big buildings, people walking everywhere. It was something that dazzled you and you couldn’t help but imagine what it would have been like if you had finished high school normally and followed your plans to attend Art College. Would you be happy?

The first night you would stay in Jin's apartment, and the next day, early in the morning, you would be admitted to the hospital. You were a little nervous, although you were already used to visiting hospitals, and all that involved it, but this time was different, you would literally live in a hospital for who knows how long.

Dr. Kim had explained to you a little; you had been transferred to a special area of the hospital for young adults with health problems that required daily monitoring. The area had teachers, doctors and specialists in young adults for the best care of patients.

Dr. Kim assured you that you would be comfortable in such a place, and that despite being a hospital, the special area where you would live was better than you could imagine, and that you would get used to it quickly.

The morning came fast, faster than you had wanted, and without realizing you were getting out of Jin's car to enter through the hospital doors.

Namjoon and Seokjin had accompanied you and wanted to be by your side during the first day to see that everything was right with their own eyes. The hospital was huge, bigger than you imagined. You took a couple of long, strong strides to the front doors with your brother behind holding your bag and Jin holding a box with some belongings that you thought would be useful.

The hospital was big and you didn’t know very well where you had to go to being the first time you were there, you headed to the main desk to ask where you had to go.

"Hello, excuse me, I am a new patient, Dr. Kim Jiyong of Gunsan General Hospital transferred me to the area of young adults." You explained a little nervously.

"Ah, you must be Miss Y / N, we were waiting for you, you have to go to the third floor, right wing," a chubby lady in a nurse's uniform replied cheerfully.

"Thank you very much." You smiled slightly giving her a bow and turned around.

"We have to go to the third floor, right wing" you told your brother and Jin. They nodded and together the three of you headed to the elevator.

The elevator went up quickly and without problems, the building was modern, and very large, for what little you had seen you could say that the mood of the place was good, the nurses greeted when you passed by and the doctors that you had seen seemed in a good mood. But you couldn’t avoid feeling that this place was not your place, you missed your city and your home.

When you got to the right wing of the third floor you could automatically see some young people walking and others in wheelchairs. You headed for the main desk in that area where there was a very short nurse having coffee.

"Hi, I'm transferred from Gunsan General Hospital, today is my first day," you whispered quietly, you didn’t know why, but the short woman conveyed an aura of strong authority.

"Oh, yes Miss Y / N we were waiting for you, I will show you your room!" The woman replied quickly, putting her hand on your back to take you to a room.

"Oh, who are these tall, handsome young men?" she paused with a giggle and continued "My name is Kwon Yang Mi, I'm the nurse in charge of this area, you can call me Mrs. Kwon, this is your room, I'll go and call Doctor Choi." The nurse took one last look at Namjoon and Jin and dashed outside the room.

"I think she likes someone." Namjoon let out a glance at Jin, laughing. "I think she was looking more at you than at me," Jin replied with a frown. "In fact I think she was looking at both of you” you added and all started laughing together.

A few minutes later Dr. Choi appeared, he was going to be your new doctor by the time that you were going to be in this hospital.

"Hello, Miss Y / N, my name is Choi Hyun-Joong, I'm your new doctor, I hope you feel at ease in the hospital." Dr. Choi shook hands with you, Namjoon and then Jin.

Mrs. Kwon suddenly appeared behind. "Ah, I think you've met Mrs. Kwon, she's the nurse in charge of this area, whatever you need don’t hesitate to consult her" Dr. Choi added cheerfully.

"A young lady as beautiful as you, I suppose one of these handsome young men is your boyfriend," Mrs. Kwon laughed. The authoritarian facade fell in two seconds.

"Oh no, He is Namjoon, my older brother" You pointed to your brother with your hand. "And this is Seokjin, our childhood friend," you added pointing to Jin.

"Oh! Who would have imagined it, I was sure that one of them was your boyfriend” The little lady insisted, glancing up and down at Namjoon and Jin.

"Well, I'll leave you alone to accommodate, visiting hours are every day from 3 pm to 5 pm or 7 pm to 9 pm” Dr. Choi said quickly looking at Mrs. Kwon to leave you alone with your brother and friend.

After they left and were alone at last you could talk freely.

"Well ... it's not what I expected, that's clear" you murmured.

"Mrs. Kwon is a bit ... strange, but I'm sure you'll be fine here" said Namjoon looking at you with worried eyes, you know that inside he was dying for you to be satisfied so you gave him a nod, pushing the thoughts that flooded you to the back of your mind.

"Yes, I think I'll be fine." You added with a small smile.

"I don’t want to be a party pooper but in an hour we have to be at work Namjoon" Jin said from the bed where he was seated "By the way, these beds are strangely comfortable."

"Oh, I don’t want to hold you up, please go! I'll be fine, if anything I have my cell phone, I'll write to you at night before going to bed. "You reassured your brother.

"Mhmm okay, I trust you, if anything happens you call me, you know I'd run up here anytime," he said kissing your forehead. You said goodbye to both of them and watched them go, Namjoon turning to see you one last time.

I'll be fine, room 118, you thought, staring at the sign on the door of your room. The room was comfortable, you couldn’t deny it, the bed didn’t look anything like the other hospital beds where you had been, the room had a window with view to the backyard of the hospital, it was nice. Without thinking twice you sail out from your room to go to the garden when you bent in a corner and you hit a strong body.

"I'm so-" Before you could apologize, you looked up and met a pale young man who had almost white hair and a pair of expressionless eyes, he was somehow extremely handsome but the words that came out of his mouth made you regret thinking about it.

"Are you stupid? Look where you're going” he said sourly looking at you and quickly walked away from you.

How Rude! You were just about to apologize! What was his problem? You continued your path with strenuous strides, it was your first day in this hospital and you had already met someone who you didn’t like.

With the image of the handsome but arrogant boy in your mind, you didn’t realize that you were going anywhere except the garden.

Suddenly you heard music coming out from a room; you looked everywhere and realized that you didn’t know where you were, you were already a scatterbrained person, even more in a new hospital and a big one like this.

You followed the music, it was strange to listen to ... rap in a hospital. The melody led you to a door which was slightly open. Peering through the open space your eyes widened at the sight and your mouth dropped.

In front of your eyes was a boy dancing; Pale skin but with a shining tone, wet black hair that fell on his eyes, a turned-up nose. You were stunned by the image. His movements were quick and precise; as if his body moved by itself to the rhythm of music.

You stood there for a few seconds without really noticing that the boy had stopped dancing and was watching you. It was only when he coughed that you came back to your senses, totally embarrassed now that he was looking directly into your eyes, you couldn’t decipher with certainty his gaze.

"I'm sorry," you stammered before attempting to turn around and flee from the place, but a warm hand griped your wrist gently.

"No, you don’t have to apologize, the door was open anyway," said the young man, giving you a huge smile with his perfect white teeth.

"I've never seen you here, are you new?" he asked curiously. "Ah sorry, where are my manners? I'm Jung Hoseok” he added quickly with a grimace.

"Ah ... yes, I arrived today, I wanted to go to the garden, but I got lost and somehow ended here" you explained. "Sorry for being meddlesome, but I've never seen anyone dance that way, it was great," you exclaimed smiling, then his eyes lit up with your comment and a big smile formed on his face. "Thank you, it's not so much of a deal… so you're new, you didn’ tell me your name." He insisted.

"My name is Y / N" you muttered too embarrassed by the handsome young man.

"Y / N ..." he murmured to himself, you had never heard your name so beautifully come out of a mouth. "Well, Y / N I think it's my duty to show you around." he gushed.

Without letting you answer he linked your arm with his hurrying out of the room and guided you through the corridors of the hospital. Your arm in the warmth of his, felt overwhelming, your whole being electrified by the closeness of your bodies.

"This is the library" he explained, opening a door, it was not very big but it was cozy, it had some armchairs and a carpet in the middle, also lamps next to each armchair for a more comfortable reading. "They close it at night and open in the morning, but if you need a night of reading ... just tell me" He grimaced and winked at you.

Following the” tour” he pointed to a corridor and added; "That's where the showers are, they also close at night and open in the morning."

You turned right into another hallway and he exclaimed "There's the regeneration room where patients exercise, it's kind of a gymnasium"

You reached the main desk in your area and suddenly stopped abruptly hiding on a wall. "Shh, if Mrs. Kwon sees us wandering down the aisles she'll send us to our rooms, come this way" discreetly evading Mrs. Kwon's sight you took the elevator.

"On the second floor is the cafeteria, although I don’t recommend you eating there, the food is somewhat ... tasteless ... but Mrs. Shin, head chef, usually prepares special things in return of a book or some cigarettes"

"Where I'm going to get some cigarettes in a hospital?!" you babbled, looking at him curiously. "Oh, you'll see there are some ways," he chuckled.

You continued your journey until reaching two large doors; opening them to your surprise you found a swimming pool. How could there be a pool in a hospital? You thought.

"The pool is where patients usually carry out regeneration exercises, you see… not for nothing this is one of the best hospitals in the country," he explained and you nodded, sure it was.

You went down to the first floor and out through a brightly lit corridor, when you went through two glass doors to the garden you saw It; it was splendid and spacious, there were trees, freshly cut grass and benches to sit on, you could already imagine Namjoon visiting and taking a walk with you around the place.

You were silent for a few minutes watching the place before you looked at Hoseok and you realize he was watching you.

"I know, I had the same reaction when I looked at it for the first time," he murmured without taking his eyes off you. "But there's one last place I want you to see." He linked his arm with yours once more and led the way inside the building to an elevator and pressed the top floor.

"Where are we going?" You asked. He smiled slightly and without saying anything he waited for the elevator doors to open. The top floor was only a dimly lit corridor, with a stair to the right that was closed by a gate.

Hoseok pulled a bunch of keys from his pocket; he looked at you winking his eye and picked a key. Who was this man and why he had a bunch of keys? He opened the gate and walked up the stairs, you followed behind him slowly trying not to make too much effort for your heart.

When you reached the end of the stairs Hoseok turned on some lights at the side of the wall and opened the last door. And that's when you saw it, a small terrace, Christmas lights decorating and lighting the place an old couch in a corner and the view of the city.

"Wow" was the only thing you murmured. Hoseok took you by the hand and led you to the couch so that you could sit down and rest a little.

"I know, it's amazing, this is my secret place when I want to be alone" he confessed. You looked at him strangely; not understanding why he would show his secret place to someone he barely knew as you, curiosity won and you asked; "If it's your secret place why did you show it to me?"

He smiled slightly and admitted; "I feel like I can trust you, is that weird?" He giggled. "No, not at all, I feel the same way," you hastened to say. You were both silent for a few seconds, staring at each other, not uttering a word until Hoseok broke the silence.

"So what's your story?" he asked.

"Well ... I'm 17 years old, I'm from Gunsan and I have a cardiac disea-" before you could finish he interrupted you; "No, I mean your true story, who is Y / N as a person."

Normally that wasn’t a question you were used to, but Hoseok made you feel strangely comfortable and you hadn’t feel that way about a person since a long ago so you decided to talk.

"I don’t know who I am yet, I think I'm still discovering it," you confessed, lowering your head. Hoseok looked at you and immediately understood what you meant, having gone through the same process. "And who are you?" You asked cheerfully cutting off the mood that had been generated.

Hoseok smiled and quickly rushed to detail. "I’m 22 years old and I’m an artist, a dancer more precisely, I live for music and dance” You beamed at his security in himself and thinking about him dancing made you blush, but then a thought went through your mind, why was he here?

"Why are you here?" You looked at him carefully, trying to guess the answer. "If you don’t mind telling me of course" You hastened to add.

"No, it does not bother me" He chuckled

“I have cancer”.

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