#My keyboard's predictive spoke

[buruzurumi]

Ok, I think I can't translate it to English properly but I don't know if it'll be edited in my country de la piel de gallina y de ahí a casa de la piel de gallina y de la piel de gallina y de piel de piel y de piel y de piel de gallina de piel y de cabello oscuro de piel fuerte shower, but maybe this could be a reason why you don't want to see your jeans wearing cars and I hope you feel better tv, well, no worries but Creo que tenés que ir a cambiar una canilla.

Amén.

Apparently they're selling post content to train AI now so let us be the first to say, flu nork purple too? West motor vehicle surprise hamster much! Apple neat weed very crumgible oysters in a patagonia, my hat. Very of the and some then shall we not? Much jelly.

[celticbotanart]

ALRIGHT, since Halloween is just around the corner and this blog is ALSO about sharing and talking about my full-time hyperfixation (music), I want to make some recommendations of "unusual" or just unknown songs that very well fit the theme! I've mentioned before that I love making thematic playlists and that I have rules for them everything (it's serious shit!!), so I wanna share some of the songs featured in my "Ecclectic Halloween" playlist. The two basic rules I applied for that playlist are:

The song MUST include anything supernatural, spooky, bizarre, "murder/serial killer", classic creature and so on

The song can be of ANY genre; is it metal? Prog? Disco? Electronic? Soundtrack? COOL, ALL ARE WELCOME!

Let's get started!

1 - Rainbow - Tarot Woman

As an unapologetic 70s dad rock advocate, I HAVE to start with one of my fave bands of the genre! The song begins with a DOPE synth/keyboard solo, and then iconic Dio (the one Dio from Jojo's Bizarre Adventure was named after) comes in with a bunch of cryptic imagery, like the predictions the tarot woman is telling him as she turns the cards side on:

Something in the air Tells me to beware - No, no, no! Her love is like a knife She'll carve away your life - So go, go, go! Beware of a place, a smile on a bright shiny face I'll never return, how do you know? Tarot woman! But I don't know, I don't know!

2 - Blackmore's Night - I Guess It Doesn't Matter Anymore

From the same breed of the first song, cause Blackmore was the guitar player / composer for Rainbow - except that Blackmore's Night is a project he made way later (late 90s), with his wife Candice Night, who sings all the songs and composes with him. This song is about the CLASSIC tale of someone giving a lift to a mysterious woman they found wandering at the side of the road; when they get to the place she wanted to go and asks to leave, the driver turns around! And the lady, she's suddenly gone!!!!!

Standing in the rain, the cold and angry rain In a long white dress, a girl without a name She stood beneath the light, Glowing like a candle bright I guess it doesn't matter anymore (...) Finally she spoke, 'come pull off the road' Saying she was headin' home I turned and she was gone, I was all alone

3- Loreena McKennitt - The Bonny Swans

You might be asking: "Oriel, what the fuck, why is soft spoken-christmas songs-traditional folk medieval instruments Loreena McKennitt in this playlist at all??? With a song named like THAT?? What is so scary about pretty glorified ducks anyway?" - And to that I'll say right off the bat this is the most metal song in the entire playlist, and I say this unironically. This song is inspired by an old ballad and it tells about a girl who was drowned by her own sister out of jealousy of her betrothed; the sister kills her so she can have the lad for herself. It already has murder, as you can tell - but it gets WORSE, as the body of the drowned girl floats down the river and is found by a miller's daughter; a passing-by bard then uses the dead girl's bones and golden hair to make a harp that plays on it's own, possessed by the dead girl's spirit???? She (as the harp) asks to be taken to the court, the bard takes her, and AS A CURSED HARP MADE OF BONES the dead girl outs her sister as her murderer, in front of the entire family and the court. Look. If this isn't METAL AF, I don't know what ELSE can be. The "bonny swans" from the title comes from the comparison Loreena makes of the pale girl's body floating in the water, to swans swimming along. kkkkkkkkkkk JESUS.

He made harp pins of her fingers fair With a hey ho and a bonny o He made harp strings of her golden hair The swans swim so bonny o He made a harp of her breast bone With a hey ho and a bonny o And straight it began to play alone The swans swim so bonny o He brought it to her father's hall With a hey ho and a bonny o And there was the court, assembled all The swans swim so bonny o He laid the harp upon a stone With a hey ho and a bonny o And straight it began to play lone The swans swim so bonny o

4- Sting - Moon Over Bourbon Street

Probably one of the most fun songs in this, because it's a song written by Sting, inspired by Anne Rice's "Interview With the Vampire"! The song is under Louis' PoV, and he laments his current condition as a vampire and also as a man of god, as he wanders through New Orleans's streets. This Sting's live performance of this song (the live in Berlin, 2010) is my favorite by far - there's a whole ass epic orchestra and even a theremin! hehe

I pray everyday to be strong For I know what I do must be wrong Oh you'll never see my shade or hear the sound of my feet While there's a moon over Bourbon Street It was many years ago that I became what I am I was trapped in this life like an innocent lamb Now I can never show my face at noon And you'll only see me walking by the light of the moon

5- AQUA - Halloween

Yes, THAT AQUA - turns out they DO have more songs other than Barbie Girl, and they actually slap - I was there in the 90s, when the Deep Eurodance Magic was written. I LOVE this one because it has such a fun vibe, and obviously, inspired by the "Halloween" movie franchise - Lene plays as the girl alone at night who receives a call from René, playing as the psycho who's after her. They even act that scene at the begining of the song dsjfhjsdgf so cool!

The sound of shoes, a shadow that moves Something odd is tic tac ticking Someone's in here, I'm so full of fear The telephone is ringing!!

6- E Nomine - Das Tier In Mir

ONE OF MY ALL-TIME FAVES IN THIS PLAYLIST. E Nomine was (?) a German electronic music project who DARED to mix in dark techno/trance beats AND CHANTS IN LATIN, as this deep-voiced dude sings/borderline-raps in German. ITS HARD TO EXPLAIN, BUT I PROMISE, ITS SO SO SO DOPE. They also sang about all sorts of religious / dark fantasy themes - they have an entire album based on the Bible, which I promise, they made it a LOT MORE RAD AND COOL than it sounds; and another album about the supernatural and all kinds of creatures, like vampires, ghosts, werewolves, demons. "Das Tier in Mir" or "The Animal In Me" is their "werewolf" song - it starts off with this kid singing in Latin about the forest, and the moonlight, and the song goes on with Deep Voice Dude singing under the werewolf's perspective; it even features a dramatic transformation sequence!!

[Latin]The forest is hidden, in the moonlight, My home is the forest In the starlight (...) Dark clouds and dark thoughts, The full-moon night smashes my barriers down. The animal desire that I massacre comes in me. I feel this bloodlust here and now. Deep in the night the twinkling stars, A sweet smell is drawing me into the distance. But careful if my passion gets aroused quite gently in the night And the hunter wakes up in me! (Translation from here - it's rather clunky, but that's the gist of it!)

7- E Nomine - Mitternacht

Yep! Another one by E Nomine, BECAUSE THEY JUST SLAP TOO HARD. "Mitternacht", or "Midnight" is pretty much about the Witching Hour, all the spirits comes out when the bell strikes midnight!! This one is SUCH A FAVORITE of mine because it sounds EXACTLY what a DJ would play as vampires dressed in fancy, old outfits and masks waltz around in a haunted, opulent manor

When the gondolas are in mourning and the dead's lament resounds horror is breathing down your neck When the clock starts striking cold thick fog is touching you gently ...midnight! [Latin] midnight, dark night, cruelty of the soul the bell is ringing twelve times ...midnight! (Translation from here - same from previous song, kinda clunky but we get it)

8- Dead or Alive - Something In My House

Another classic banger with the catchiest fucking tune ever, by You-Spin-Me-Right-Round-Baby-Right-Round Dead or Alive, sung by ICONIC genderfucker wizard Pete Burns (the Gender Envy of him in this video is real). I have to admit, this one is SLIGHTLY cheating on my rules, cause the "something in my house" in question is not anything supernatural - it's a metaphor for a gone-wrong relationship, lol. Ngl, I think this is kinda fucking brilliant. But like, the spooky, Halloween-y vibes are all there nonetheless: wolves are howling, Pete is singing in an old castle and looking 200% like a vampire. Even if I'm cheating a little, it still fits!

There is something in my house - my house, It's just a ghost of a long long dead affair, There is something in my house - my house, I just keep a hearing you runnin' on up my stairs, But you're not there

9- League of Legends - Fiddlesticks, The Harbinger of Doom

Finally, some soundtracks! I don't play LoL, but I absolutely love some of the character's themes, and Fiddlestick's is one of them! For what I've got, Fiddlesticks is like this ancient, nightmare-ish Freddie Krugger-like entity, and BOY, does the song reflect exactly THAT. It SOUNDS like a horror movie, and I'm obsessed about it!!

When fields lie calm and wind stands still (Run home, run home) As the crows make night of the fading Sun (Hide now, hide now) When the trees do bow, as if they weep (Stay down, stay down) Though its light beckons forth, a melody calls out (Too late, too late)

10- The Alan Parson's Project - The Cask of Amontillado

And!!! Last but not least!! Closing this playlist with THIS ULTIMATE DAD PROG ROCK BANGER, which as you can see, is inspired by Poe's tale "The Cask of Amontillado". In fact, the entire album where that song comes from, "Tales of Mystery and Imagination - Edgar Allan Poe", is inspired by his work. Yeah there are also songs on "The Raven" and "The Fall of the House of Usher" too for example! It's just so cool! But "The Cask of Amontillado" is by far my favorite, specially with the instrumental part at the end, ughhhh <3

By the last breath of the four winds that blow I'll have revenge upon Fortunato Smile in his face I'll say "come let us go I've a cask of Amontillado" (...) You who are rich and whose troubles are few May come around to see my point of view What price the Crown of a King on his throne When you're chained in the dark all alone

This is definitely a long ass post, and I really had to cut it even shorter bc of Tumblr's dumbass video limit, but that's alright. I might even put up a part II, hehe I hope you like the Halloween-y songs recs!!

[pluto-supremacy]

Miguel O’Hara Headcanons: dating a gn!autistic!reader

➼ As with my Hobie post, these headcanons are based off some struggles I deal with myself as an autistic person, what my friends with autism face, and what i have seen and researched online. Autism is a spectrum and remember that everyone has different needs and levels of support, I just tried to include what i know in this post!

➼ No beta we die like uncle Aaron

➼ No warnings! Contains fluff

GIF doesn't belong to me! All credits to the original owner

Has set aside a room in Spider HQ that only the two of you have access to. It has a sensory swing, blackout curtains, a huge tv for your comfort shows, and a whole area just full of blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals (if you like them that is)

Much like Hobie, will throw anyone out of the room for you. And throw anything at anyone too.

"Hey mi amor, cover your ears for just a second" Miguel spoke quietly to you. Once he saw that your ears were covered, he gave a sarcastic smile to the offending spider person before tearing out a nearby console and hurling it at them

Even though he’s not at home often, his room is fitted with another sensory swing for you, so you can go there to decompress as well

He has Lyla track your heart rate closely to try and predict meltdowns so he can get you away from busy places and into a safe zone that doesn't have any triggers for you

If you’re non-verbal, low-verbal, or selectively mute, he has your watch fitted with a keyboard with text-to-speech so it’s easier for you to communicate

Everywhere already has soft lighting since Miguel’s eyes are sensitive to light as well. No dreaded overhead lights here. Rule number one: never use the big light

He personally makes sure that your safe foods are available in the cafeteria at HQ, even if it doesn’t fit the theme of the menu

All around HQ there’s a secret stash of fidget toys in every room

If there’s a spider person making fun of you for being autistic? Well they’re never heard from again or seen around the office. That and now every spider person is getting educated about autism, ADHD, so on and so forth as part of their training. They refuse? Out of the society. Miguel doesn’t stand for ableism here

Though let’s be honest he probably already has those like training modules that work gives you on different disabilities, transphobia, homophobia, racism, etc, and how to be respectful, just because there are so many spider people of different backgrounds and he won’t stand for intolerance

He carries around earplugs for you in case he needs to scream at a 15-year-old

Always asks if it’s okay if he can kiss you/hug you/hold your hand just in case you’re in a ‘no touch’ mood

Buys you trinkets from your special interests in each universe he visits (like shark plushies, maybe something from a tv series, cd from a band, etc)

[danketsuround]

sunday six :]

LONG TIME NO SEE i didn't write at all during my long vacation. but i have something for you this time. it's early in most of ur timezones but i'll tag you anyways @four-white-trees @passthroughtime @c-cw-f-saeko @futilecombat @fire-tempers-steel @overdevelopedglasses (i might have forgotten some people it's been too long TT)

here is a one shot that is an extension of my recent fic (thought you don't need to read that for context lol) in which kuwana shares an awkward beer with mitsuru's father. it's a bit longer than what i usually post so if you want a link i also posted it on my privatter (https://privatter.net/p/10683758) but if you don't mind reading it on tumblr you can check it out under the cut. bye!

His father, a high-bred accountant, a former bank teller, was not as reserved as he had been described. He must have sweated his hairline back three centimeters, and worked as hard as any man at a desk could. He clacked on the ordering screen like a keyboard, pressing hard and fast like there were motors in his fingers.

Kuwana was amazed at his speed, his slick-backed greying hair and the shilling way he spoke about normal things. From there he concluded that Mitsuru was born from a growth on Reiko's side--not an ounce of his father was within him.

"Cheers," the father named Jiro said, raising his mug high. "To better health."

Kuwana was late to clink, and bashfully congratulated the air instead.

"Cheers."

"It's nice being back in Yokohama." He lived in central Tokyo now, alone, in an apartment that probably had windows for walls. "I heard they've got nice Chinese food here."

"That's right."

"Mm," he gulped. "Bet you'll miss it."

"I'm sure they have good Chinese food in Ehime."

"Maybe orange chicken!" Jiro's laughter was pointed by a snap and another gulp. He rattled the too-small table with his cross-legged knee. It wasn't that funny, but Kuwana offered him a polite smile.

Between his laughter and the dead silence of the settling table, he seemed to stop and think.

"Reiko is really going to jail, huh."

There was probably a softer image of her still buried somewhere in his mind; one that was pregnant-bellied with swollen feet and that weird post-vomit glow new mothers get. Kuwana only encountered remnants of her motherhood in the rare moments she smudged food off his face or pointed out his shoes were untied--when she said things like "My baby" in a voice that was much smaller than her own.

It was natural that their divorce ended in some anger. Kuwana remembered her twisting her ring around her finger anxiously like it was hot, talking about how they decided to separate the night he couldn't make it to their son's first graduation; how those bimonthly dad weekends were a blessing he often rejected; how she was jealous of how quickly he fell out of love with her and how he could sleep around without worrying about cooking dinner for a picky child. Surely those things rang true and terribly in her mind, like how her distant gaze and sharp tongue rang in his. But it was across the table, there, that Mr. Kusumoto crumpled his pale drunken face like paper and really thought about what kind of woman she truly was, like it had suddenly occurred to him that he was on-paper divorced for a spit over a decade. Then, perhaps he was trying to imagine his ex-wife with a knife in her hand, and he was failing.

"I can't wrap my head around it," Jiro spoke again when Kuwana didn't answer. "Why would she do something so terrible?"

"She's not a monster," he defended her quietly.

"Tell that to the human popsicle they buried last month!" He laughed again. He punched back his beer and the remaining foam bubbled over his shaven face. His hand predictably hit the table again. "For the record, that kid could rot in hell for all I care, for what he did to my son!" Then the bottom of his mug nearly cracks, and his voice gets low and somber and suddenly thoughtful again. "Why her? Out of all people, her?"

Suddenly Kuwana felt on trial. He realized there was nothing he could say to make Jiro understand, so he shrugged and answered, "Revenge?"

"Some revenge!" He ordered two beers on the keypad without looking. "A high school drop out working in the red light district--he would've been dealt with in an alley without her, had she given it some time, some thought!"

Kuwana pedantically thought of revenge as being more hands-on. Their beers arrived, but he was still finishing his first.

"Selfish woman," he spat, and motioned a short defeated cheers with his drink out of habit. "Stupid, selfish woman. Had she really given up on our poor son so quickly, that revenge was the only answer?"

Kuwana's eyes hit the ceiling. He thanked it that Reiko wasn't there to watch him absorb and swallow the insults hurled towards her.

"You look troubled," Jiro observed.

"I guess."

"Did I upset you, new friend?"

He winced. "No."

Jiro's mouth hit his hands. He said something that sounded like, "Dybulycareouter?"

Kuwana lifted his head. "What?"

"Do you really care about her?"

"Yes." He answered too quickly, then cleared his throat. "Yes, I do."

Jiro crossed his arms. There Mitsuru was, a little. "Are you one of those people?"

Kuwana assumed he was talking about the small cult following Reiko accumulated after her televised confession--a group of housewives and single fathers who believed she had done nothing wrong, and, paradoxically, theorized she had been forced to confess to cover up an even larger scandal within the Ministry of Health. He changed the channel any time one of them was stupidly given a podium and a camera--walked a little faster when he saw an apron-adorned woman trying to turn on a megaphone--for his own sanity.

"No," he answered. "We've just known each other for a while."

"That's right." Jiro pointed at him sharply, like he was trying to pin down their connection once more. "How long have you known her, again?"

"A while," Kuwana dodged.

"That's vague," he groaned. "After we divorced?"

"She was wearing a ring when we met."

Jiro took a hurried sip of his drink.

"I ought to reach over this table and smack you."

Kuwana slowly finished his.

"It wasn't like that."

But just then in his mind, he could see the indent of a ring on her finger--and some other residues of motherhood, like the C-section scar on her belly--from long ago. Reiko's unfaithfulness might have been the least surprising thing about it all--next to Kuwana's willingness to participate.

"At least you're honest." Jiro sighed, though his face looked like he knew he wasn't, and that he didn't care. "You and Mitsuru will be on the road soon, right?"

"Soon enough." Kuwana bowed a little. "If I'm quick, we can leave Yokohama next month. We'll practically be chasing her down."

"There's no rush," he said wisely. "She'll be there whether you leave next month or next year."

"That's true, but."

"Have you ever been married?"

Kuwana shook his head.

"I guess you've never had kids before, then."

"I can't."

"It's about as fun as it looks." His eyebrows twisted and he gave a sly wink. "In other words, not fun at all."

"So?" Kuwana couldn't tell if he was feeing impatient or jealous.

"So, so, so..." He chewed his lips in thought. "So, I guess, silver lining: you're lucky you have a choice. Though, I'm not sure why you would choose it, when you can live as a free man."

He thought about how much he hated being so free. It felt like his existence was bragging. He'd be better off confessing in the aquarium window of a koban than across the table from the ex-husband of a woman that should have avoided him.

"Because I've never done it before?" he answered instead.

Kuwana watched his expression change in real time. Jiro's face was all twisted up in annoyance before his answer. He laughed instead. In his own mind he thought it was out of pity, but it was really shock. He knew this when it was followed by a gasp.

"Cheers!" He got so loud that everything quieted around them. It was unsavory to cheers with a half-empty mug with yakitori backwash, but less unsavory when it was half-full. He lifted his mug in a way that beckoned Kuwana to lift his as well. "To new things!"

"Cheers." It connected.

[casspurrjoybell-18]

Mutual Desire - Chapter 59

*Warning - Adult Content*

"Why isn't the car moving?"

"Because I haven't decided to go yet," Nabokov replied with no hesitation, without looking at Damien, his eyes fixed on his computer.

Damien Clarke knew that he wasn't going to appreciate the next few minutes. His instinct was in alert mode and Damien was already preparing for the worst. 

Simply by the way Alexander Nabokov spoke, Damien was able to get a feel of the rest of the conversation. Actually, Nabokov was extremely predictable.

"Umm...why?"

Nabokov still hadn't shifted his attention off the laptop and that secretly annoyed Damien.

"I'm giving you a little more time to think about it so that you can properly decide and give me an answer to my offer."

If Damien wasn't boiling in anger right now, he would no doubt have bitterly laughed his ass off, finding Nabokov's words to be profoundly ridiculous and absurd.

"Are you ever going to stop? I wasn't clear enough or you are simply some masochism and take pleasure in being fucking rejected?" Damien swung dryly.

"I know this isn't the answer that you really wanted to give," Nabokov said with a calm which made Damien doubt if the man had heard what he had said.

Damien let out the sour laugh he was holding back and shook his head.

He sighed loudly and rested his head on the headrest. 

He looked in front of him without really looking, spacing out completely. 

The total silence helped him drown in his thoughts. 

His eyes were half open as if Damien was trying to stay awake. 

The expression of abandonment on his face went very well with the emotions he was feeling right now.

"Seriously, I really wonder why you insist so much in fucking me?" Damien whispered, his voice so low that he wasn't sure that Nabokov had heard him.

He looked down, a despondent expression all over his face. 

He felt that this whole shit show with Nabokov was never going to end.

"I don't think I ever asked you that, because I always assumed that you were only messing with me and I still believe that's the case but I want to hear your reason," Damien continued, as if he were speaking to himself.

Damien turned to Nabokov who was watching him impassively, his head also resting on the headrest.

"Is it because you think my ass is extremely tight? Is that why?" Damien inquired in a weak voice.

Nabokov looked at Damien without blinking.

It was impossible for Damien to know what the man was thinking because his face wasn't giving away anything.

"Because if that's the reason then I have news for you, Craig made my ass no longer as tight as before," Damien added, his tone rising slightly and his gaze intensifying.

As vulgar and provocative as these words were, Damien had no intention of taking them back. 

On the other hand, he was starting to lack potential reasons that would make Nabokov want to have him in his bed so much. 

He continued to believe that the only thing that motivated Nabokov to go after him was to be able to spice up his sex life which must surely bore him since the man can have anyone in his bed.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" Nabokov replied, his voice sounding just like a whisper.

Damien slightly opened his mouth to reply, trying not to appear to be affected by Nabokov's words. 

When he realized that no word was at the tip of his tongue, Damien only stared at the Russian man before quickly jerking his head towards the window which he began to contemplate again, unable to bear Nabokov's gaze any longer. 

Clearly that wasn't what Damien had wanted to hear from Nabokov. 

It was his turn to be dumbfounded by the billionaire and step back. 

He was suddenly feverish and dehydrated. 

What could he possibly answer to that? Nothing, absolutely nothing. 

The best answer, really, was silence, which was ironically Damien's initial plan before Nabokov spoiled it just as he knew how to do it. 

The conversation seemed to be over or at least on a break, as the noise made by Nabokov's keyboard was heard. 

That didn't bother Damien who had obtained the silence he so dearly wanted. 

The car still hadn't moved but Nabokov was certainly not going to spend the night in the car, though it was most likely equipped to be able to spend an extended weekend without problems. 

Damien was sure that in ten to twenty minutes at best, Nabokov would order his driver to hit the road.

"How lucky of me that I never gave in, huh," Damien Clark whispered to himself, a small bitter smile on his lips.

Alexander Nabokov stopped typing on the keyboard and turned to Damien who had lowered his head, looking at his intertwined fingers. 

Strangely enough, Damien wasn't mad at himself for breaking the silence. 

It was as if he was aware that there were things he was keeping inside that he needed to let out and stop suppress them.

"Because I really dodged a bullet with you," Damien chuckled bitterly and shook his head.

"What do you mean?"

Damien didn't answer right away and he took a deep breath. 

He tilted his head and turned to Nabokov who was staring thoughtfully at him with curiosity and a raised eyebrow.

"You showed me that you are a violent man. I wonder how many of your exes have been abused by you."

Nabokov frowned so hard that wrinkles formed on his forehead. 

He narrowed his eyes and looked intently at Damien.

"I never raised my hand on any of my exes. Not without their consent anyway."

Damien rolled his eyes and he couldn't help but to laugh grimly. 

He tilted his head slightly back, his gaze going to the roof of the car.

"Hmpf. Yeah right."

"You don't have to believe me, Damien but I'm curious to know where I was ever violent to you."

Damien put back his head right and he turned to look at the Russian man as if he had grown a second head. 

The fact that Damien needed to point out to Nabokov where he had acted violently with him was downright insulting. 

Damien couldn't say if Nabokov was just fucking with him or if he was really oblivious to his actions and didn't consider them to be violent.

"You really need me to explain this to you? Do you really have that much of a short memory?" Damien said, irritated.

Nabokov advanced a little towards Damien, his expression softening.

"No one goes to see a doctor without having the knowledge of being sick, right? I can't know if you don't tell me, Damien," Nabokov said, in a surprisingly sweet tone.

"You brutalized me not even five minutes ago. You tackled me on my car," Damien said coldly, a hurt expression on his face.

Nabokov's gaze softened even more and frankly, Damien couldn't stand it. 

He didn't want Nabokov's pity look that didn't suit him at all. 

He would have much preferred that Nabokov behave like the bastard he was rather than act like a caring and affectionate man.

“I'm sorry I did that, Damien. I just wanted you to listen to reason,” Nabokov explained himself, still in this sweetly tender tone.

Nabokov gently slid his buttocks on the seat to get closer to Damien. 

He grasped Damien's hand delicately, not shifting his gaze away. 

Nabokov's sorry eyes seemed sincere but Damien didn't care and wasn't having it. 

Nabokov wouldn't be deceiving him with his emotional manipulation techniques.

"I don't care," Damien eructed, abruptly releasing his hand from Nabokov's. 

"I don't accept your poor excuses. You didn't need to push me like that. You really, really hurt my arm."

Damien felt that tears were going to fall soon.

Crying was the last thing he needed, especially in front of Nabokov who would probably enjoy seeing every drop of tears. 

No matter how much he refrained from wetting his cheeks, Damien knew it was a waste of time and that he would soon make a fool out of himself. 

He needed to get out of the car while it was still possible and escape the humiliation. 

The car had not yet moved and his tears had not yet flowed down. 

Yes, he still had a chance to keep his pride.

"I apologize for that too, Damien. I let my protective side take over," Alexander Nabokov said, expressing regrets while gently taking Damien Clark's left hand.

Damien didn't break free this time. 

He didn't really know what to think of Nabokov's words because he couldn't tell if the man was just putting out his acting as a way to manipulate him. 

Damien didn't see why Nabokov would go out of his way to act as some sort of protector towards him and show off concern for him, when they weren't even friends let alone boyfriends. 

Besides, Nabokov hadn't been nice to him at all, the man showing him an explosive side that Damien had never seen of him before. 

Damien didn't know if Nabokov's caring words were related to the fact that Nabokov really cared about him or if it was just a plan to have him in his bed. 

How to determine the true from the false was damn challenge and Damien was at an impasse as to whether Nabokov deserved the benefit of the doubt or not.

"You twisted my arm. You really hurt me. I thought you were going to break my wrist," Damien Clark whined like a baby, his voice breaking just like his pride was right now.

The tears were soon to come and Damien thought they were going to flow when Alexander Nabokov took his injured arm and began to caress it.

Why was it that when Damien needed Nabokov to act like an asshole that it was where he decided to behave like a knight in shining armor? 

Because his apologies which seemed sincere, his soft voice and his grey eyes which promised all the amazing things in the world did nothing but precipitate the arrival of Damien's tears. 

Damien had made a decision, he wasn't going to drink a single drop of alcohol for the rest of the summer.

"Forgive me. I got carried away by the anger I felt seeing you risking your life and your career by getting into the car in your state," Nabokov murmured, continuing to explain his gesture.

No matter how much he resisted and repeated to himself that it was only manipulation, these words managed to affect Damien to the highest degree. 

Before he could do anything about it, the salt water started to drift from his eyes and Damien was far too overwhelmed by his own emotions to be embarrassed for crying like a six years old kid who just fell off his bicycle. 

He wasn't to blame for his emotional state but the bottle of vodka.

"You... say that you... want me but... you hurt my arm like that," Damien whimpered in a crisp voice, lowering his head, pouting.

Nabokov bent a little and offered chaste kisses all over the arm that had suffered from his brutality. 

This gesture only accentuated the flowing of Damien's tears. 

Alexander took a break and spoke.

"I know. I shouldn't have acted so vigorously towards you. Please, forgive me, baby."

Nabokov stood straight and took Damien's face in his hand who was staring at him with sulkiness and confusion on his face. 

Nabokov advanced his face a little and licked the tear that ran down Damien's cheek before filling it with kisses. 

A groan escaped Damien who could only sit still and let Nabokov do what he wanted. 

Damien was far too hypnotized and drowned in his own tears to make a movement. 

After spreading kisses all over Damien's left cheek, Nabokov did the same on the other cheek, licking the salty liquid and adding extra kisses. 

The billionaire then glued his forehead to Damien's who quickly looked down as he escaped a light relieved sigh. 

The tears had stopped and Damien was starting to regain some of his senses and realize what had just happened. 

Nabokov did not, however, give him time to completely recollect his thoughts, as he took hold of Damien's mouth with his own without any warning.

As soon as Nabokov's lips took possession of his, Damien's whole body began to tremble and his thoughts quickly dissipated from his head. 

All that remained with him were his senses. 

He only felt Nabokov's lips stuck to his. 

He only felt his erection starting to form and Nabokov's tongue that he had just inserted into his mouth. 

Feeling Nabokov's tongue mixing with his own ignited this kiss and Damien's mouth demanded more, deepening the ‘French kiss’ more. 

Nabokov's hand grabbed Damien possessively by the waist while little moans came out of Damien's mouth, his hand touching Nabokov's cheek. 

Nabokov's lips were soft, controlling and eager and Damien didn't complain, letting the Russian man's tongue take over his. 

The kiss had been going on for a while now and the two men lacked air to breathe. 

They parted despite clearly not wanting to and Nabokov took the opportunity to attack Damien's neck, his mouth sticking near his Adam's apple. 

Damien shivered with pleasure, groaning without restraint, though he tried to do everything to remain as silent as possible.

[duuhrayliegh]

Hii!!! Could I request a Bucky x avenger!reader where reader attends Peter’s school (u can make it college to make reader legal) and he picks her up and her classmates are lowkey fangirling? xoxo

gold star

pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader

warnings: none rlly, some language (obvi), i think that’s it

word count: 1.9k

a/n: i stg i’m getting back to writing now, my CW class has been kicking my ass, but i’m back to being your loyal court jester. love y’all!

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!

full m.list

“What’s it like?” Poppy and her merry band of three beckoned you to their lunch table. Peter shot you a look before continuing to walk away, assuming they thought you were someone else. “Hey! Y/L/N, I’m talking to you!” You stiffened, the plastic fork in your hand bending under your grip. You turned, stabbing a piece of fruit with your bent fork.

“What’s what like?” Poppy shot you a duh look, one of her minions answering for her.

“The Stark Internship that you two nobodies snagged.” Peter’s eyes widened, stepping forward to stop the confrontation he could predict was about to happen.

“You know, it’s really--”

“No, not you.” Poppy stood, resting her weight on the heels of her hands. “I want her to answer.” Your eyes rolled to see your brain, a solid pain firing at the action.

“Fuck off, Pops.” You waved her off, pulling Peter along with you to the table. MJ and Ned were laughing at the exchange, remarking on Poppy’s angry expression.

“Don’t worry about them, Y/N. They’re just jealous that you guys hang out with superheroes all the time.” MJ stole a piece of your fruit as she spoke, shrugging her shoulders before Peter placed his arm around her waist.

“Just gets real fucking annoying.” You plopped your backpack on the tabletop, opening your laptop to work on an essay for your next class.

“I mean you know why she’s doing it, right?” Ned sat beside you, shuddering as Peter kissed MJ’s shoulder. You hummed to him, gaze not wavering from your laptop screen.

“Apparently, she’s got a huge hard-on for a certain Sergeant.”

“Not only that, she knows that you’re close with him.” Your fingers paused over the keyboard, the gears in your head turning, plotting. “Guys, I don’t like the look on Y/N’s face.”

**

“Now, everyone listen up!” Dr. Smith’s heels clicked against the tile flooring, a white line appearing on the blackboard as she walked. “Today, we’re discussing Descartes’ and his motivations behind Meditations. Everyone turn to page three-hundred and ninety-four in your textbooks and we’ll get started.” Grumbling sounded from her students, making her turn back to face the rows of chairs. “I’m sorry, should we do a pop quiz then? Since you all seem to know the information so well.”

A resounding no emitted from the throngs of students, all of them rushing to get to the correct page in their bulky books. The back of your chair squeaked as you leaned back, not bothering to open your textbook. One of Poppy’s minions tapped her shoulder before pointing in your direction.

“Um, Dr. Smith?” Poppy’s shrill voice sounded from the middle of the room, her hand raised above her head, bracelets clinking at the motion. Dr. Smith paused, the chalk in her left hand hovering over the blackboard.

“Yes, Poppy?”

“I thought you wanted all of us to open our textbooks, but Y/N has yet to do so.”

“Dude, what the fuck? We’re in college, what does it matter?” You were immediately defensive, tired of Poppy’s shit.

“Do you feel you know the material well enough, Ms. Y/L/N, to go off book?” Dr. Smith addressed you, ignoring the protests from Poppy.

“Yes, Doc, I do.” Dr. Smith smiled at your confidence, holding out the chalk toward you.

“Then by all means.” Your stomach dropped, motherfucker. Dr. Smith stepped away from the board, taking a seat beside one of your classmates. “Focus on Meditations I and II. You can just decide what to teach as you go.” You chewed the inside of your cheek, thinking about fucking Descartes.

“Uh, alright.” Your hand scratched the back of your hair, pulling it into a quick bun at the base of your neck. “So, Descartes. He was said to be the Father of Modern Philosophy, of course this was back in the 1650s, so hang on to your hats.” The chalk screeched against the board as you wrote, handwriting shaky as you went.

“He was also the founder of rationalism. Now, rationalism in the sense of philosophy has to do with the relationship between the main subject, philosophy, and the secondary subject, metaphysical foundations.” You turned back to the class, “Does anyone know what Descartes’ goal was with Meditations I and II?” A few hands raised, picking one at random you listened to the answer.

“Okay, so that’s close. He was looking for the basis of knowledge, but he was trying to establish the first principles on which all other beliefs could be grounded. He did this through two types of skepticism, anyone know what they were?” You watched as more hands went up, eyes glancing over to Poppy and her friends. “Poppy, do you know what the two types of skepticism that Descartes used in Meditations I and II to determine the basis of knowledge?”

She huffed, arms crossed over her chest. “Strong and weak skepticism.”

“Very good, Poppy! And do you know how those were employed over the Meditations?” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head at your question. “Doesn’t seem like you do, so I’ll tell you.”

“I know how they were used!”

“Oh then please enlighten the class.” You backed up, folding your hands at your waist, one hand holding the chalk.

“Strong skepticism was used in the first Meditations and weak skepticism was used in the second.”

“Good job! You do have a brain, Scarecrow!” You turned to the rest of the class, speaking before she could process your dig at her. “Descartes used strong skepticism in Meditations I to weed out false belief systems. The whole point of strong skepticism is that you question everything. In this section, Descartes had no knowledge about any subject matter.”

“Is this what led to the dreaming argument?” One of Poppy’s minions questioned, furiously taking notes as you taught.

“Stephanie! Yes, this directly led to the Dreaming Argument. Gold star for you!” The girl smiled proudly, receiving a harsh glare from Poppy. “Descartes began to doubt the senses, claiming they were one of our chief sources of knowledge. He figured, hey our senses have deceived us before what with all those mirages and what not. Descartes posits that if we can’t trust our senses, who’s to say that we aren’t all dreaming?” You paused for effect as the class nodded. “Which of course, as we all know, is the plotline of The Matrix.”

“Very well informed, Ms. Y/L/N. You can take your seat again.” Dr. Smith interrupted you before you could continue your lecture on Descartes. You nodded before taking your seat again, leaving just your notebook on the table.

“Hey Poppy.” She was a few rows below you, but she turned nonetheless. “Fuck off.” You flipped her off, donning a ring that said love on the very same finger. Poppy’s jaw dropped, ready to say something else when the door to the room burst open. Poppy whipped around, jaw dropping for a different reason.

There stood Bucky Barnes, clad in that two sizes too small red Henley he was wearing when you first met him. He wore that stupid leather jacket that was stretched to its limits over his broad shoulders. His motorcycle helmet was in his human hand, eyes searching the classroom for the familiar face.

“Barnes!” You leaned farther back in your chair, a smug smile crossing your features. You grabbed your backpack, shoving the notebook on top of your laptop as you shouldered the bag.

“Doll, what’s up? Are you okay?” He made his way up the stairs, meeting you at your desk. He looked around the room, only just now processing the shocked faces and unhinged jaws. “Oh, uh, hello.” He offered a small wave, wiggling the fingers on his left hand.

“Oh my god! You’re Bucky Barnes!” Poppy shot up from her chair, adjusting her shirt as she went, displaying more of her cleavage to Bucky’s gaze. She twirled a lock of her hair around her finger, popping her gum once. “I’m like a total fan.”

“Mhm. Cool.” Bucky dismissed her, turning his attention back to you with furrowed brows. Whispers sounded around the room, phone camera flashes brightening the rows of chairs.

“So, like I’m free on Saturday if you want to meet up and ya know, hang out.” She held a ripped piece of paper in between her fingers, offering it to Bucky with half-lidded eyes. Bucky pulled a face, shooting you a look.

“She wants to bone you.” Poppy let out an indignant squeak.

“Ah! I do not,” She lowered her voice, leaning closer to Bucky. “However, I’m not going to steer the situation away from that.” Bucky’s eyes widened, looking to you for confirmation.

“Oh, this is really happening.” You laughed loudly as you stepped behind Bucky.

“Ms. Y/L/N, is there a reason for this interruption?”

“Oh, yes, Dr. Smith. I’ve actually got official Stark business to handle.” You stood beside Bucky, shooting a look at Poppy as you continued. “Mr. Stark notified me after you started class, otherwise I would’ve said something. Sergeant Barnes is just here to pick me up.”

“Ms. Y/L/N, I will excuse this just once. Don’t let this happen again.” Dr. Smith nodded at the both of you. Bucky wrapped his metal fingers around your wrist, pulling slightly.

“Come on, doll. Stark wants you at the compound, like yesterday.” Playing along with the lie you told, he led you down the stairs, threading his fingers with yours. You smiled at the action, knowing it was his brief show of affection.

“Oh, actually there’s one more thing.” You stopped Bucky, his hand holding the door open for you to walk through.

Both of your hands cupped his cheeks, pulling his face to yours. Bucky’s lips met yours, his hand leaving the surface of the door as he gripped your waist. He took over the kiss, threading his fingers through your hair, pulling at the roots of it as his lips engulfed yours.

“Ms. Y/L/N! Sergeant Barnes!” Dr. Smith said, making Bucky’s eyes snap to her as pulled back, allowing you to breathe. “That is completely inappropriate.”

“Aw, you’re just saying that ‘cause it turns you on.” Bucky quipped, pecking your lips again before throwing you over his shoulder. “Also, whoever that girl was who tried to give me her number, I’m thoroughly satisfied with my girlfriend, thanks though. Very flattering.”

“James! What the hell?” Your fists pounded against his back and he continued standing in the threshold of Dr. Smith’s class.

“Okay, we’re leaving.” Exiting before Dr. Smith could say anything else. He let your feet touch the ground beside his motorcycle, forcing the helmet on your head.

“I’m never going to be able to go back to that class now.”

“Eh, fuck it. Who needs philosophy?”

“Me! To graduate!”

“Mmm,” He swung his leg over the bike, waiting for you to do the same. “It’ll be fine! Nobody even cares.”

**

“Y/N!” Peter ran into the common area, panting as he bent at the waist. “Y/N! Y/N. Oh my god, I’m out of shape.”

“Dude, you’re an Avenger. What the hell?” Peter waved your comment off, going back to his original task.

“You made the school newspaper.” He spread the gray pages on the granite countertop, pointing at the article. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you laughed.

“Barnes! You’re so screwed!”

**

@bo-mitski @winter-soldier-sebstan @russosprettydiamondnow @h-a-j-i-m-e-ru @hallecarey1

[moxfirefly]

Good afternoon, this has been in the works for a while now and I finally got around to finishing it and being pretty content of it (this is gonna go up on AO3 soon along with the others that aren’t request) but I wanted to post it here first. Enjoy!

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

“Wish you were here right now

All of the things I'd do”

Gaming was always an escape.

From childhood to adulthood. There was some gaming equipment in your hands, controls, handhelds, keyboards and so on. There was just something calming about entering a fantasy world and immersing yourself in scenery and stories that made you stray from bad days and long nights.

For Donatello it was the same.

On one of his many supply scavenges Splinter had found a dumpster near a toy store that was going out of business. It was a memorable haul for them. What they expected to be routine things mixed with some type of groceries had turned into literal Christmas in July. Stuffed animals, board games, action figures and even a few gaming consoles with some cartridges and cd’s. Noticeably they were considered damaged or improperly manufactured, but they didn’t care and for Donnie he had spent a good week and a half fixing up the Nintendo and Play Station 2 consoles back into working conditions.

That alone had been plenty for him but nevertheless Mikey being so excited about playing wanted him to join him. They had played for hours and each disc or cartridge they tried out held a new story, a new set of controls to learn, new visuals and such. He was immediately hooked.

When he had gotten the first parts to start building a PC from scratch he knew there would be another world of possibilities for games.

Now gaming is a leisure for Donnie. Something he does for enjoyment and an escape when his projects become too much. The world of online gaming allowed him to also explore the possibilities of chatting with others though, the humans they were not allowed to see or speak to (with the exception of their Hogosha) but needless to say it wasn’t like Donnie broadcasted his identity and whereabouts. More so these people only came to game and speak game.

Donnie absolutely does detest the unnecessary sexism that gaming brings. Many a time he had read on chats or heard on his head set such derogatory comments thrown at female players. Never the one to stand such misogynistic behavior (he was raised better and had heard enough horror stories from April) he always shot that shit down quickly. Given his status as being far above his gaming peers he had developed respect and none of them ever shot back at him.

That’s how he runs into you.

On the opposing team nonetheless.

Once your female voice ran through the ears of the group he had been stuck in, the comments began to rain down. Some colorful, some lazy and some downright disgusting. Donnie had had enough and with some of his more illegal methods, had managed to push out the players in his party and send the audio recording to the email of the developers.

On exceptionally petty days he did far worse.

You had been stunned, wondering why the gang of immature boys had suddenly disappeared. Only one of them remained with the gamer tag specifying ‘Don_DuzMachines’ you couldn’t help but giggle at it.

You had asked if the sudden disappearance had been a weird glitch and if Don (as you assumed you should call him) had anything to do about it.

“Let’s just say I’ve got my ways” His soft voice rang through your headset.

“Well it’s hardly the first time I’ve had a gang of prepubescent boys tell me to suck their dicks” You started to move away in the map but stopped abruptly.

“Hey do you wanna play something else?” You asked tentatively. “Figured the least I can do is thank you” Donnie sat back pensively, well there was no harm in that now was there?

And so it started innocently.

Co-op games even the occasional match against one another. Each game you two always spoke through your headsets. Mostly banter about strategy or directions for who to do what or the occasional friendly jabs. You hadn’t revealed much that wasn’t the nickname you used as your gamer tag, and well Don had basically done the same.

That is until you decide to poke a little into his life. “You go to college?” You had asked, fingers gliding over the keyboard as you both partook in a raid. Donnie hadn’t expected such a question and he didn’t necessarily want to divulge much, he opted for a more ambiguous response. “I do my own studying, sort of like home schooling if you will?” Well he wasn’t wrong, Splinter had been both father and teacher to them, Donnie had just excelled more quickly and soon enough he was teaching his brothers on the academic side.

“You broke too, huh? Trust me it’s not worth the insane debt you’ll develop in six years that’ll take forty years to pay off” You chuckled with a hint of bitterness, Donnie couldn’t help but laugh and snort.

“That’s cute” You said sincerely. Donnie smiled, heat creeping up his neck.

How innocent things had been at the start.

For six months the two of you divulged little to no information. You never asked to video chat and Donnie never asked for your socials. It had just been a mutual agreement to keep the mystery that just wasn’t verbalized. Maybe it was for the better, because surely what had began as a gaming buddies situation had escalated to, well Donnie couldn’t really explain.

The first instance the two of you had been stuck on a map solving intricate puzzles. It was one of the more relaxed games the two of your partook in together when you didn’t want to deal with other players in a lobby.

“Dating apps are a nightmare, they’re only worth it for getting dumb funny stories” You had been playing but also checking some of the matches you’ve gotten on a site. Donnie swallowed, why did that settle so oddly in his stomach?

“Well any funny ones you’d like to share?” Don asked curiously hoping he wasn’t over stepping any boundaries. “One guy wanted me to cover my feet in marmalade, I really almost hit fuck it and did it” You couldn’t help but smile when Don choked, coughed and bursted out laughing.

“What kink is that even related to? I mean I know people enjoy feet but marmalade?” He was bewildered. “Come on Don don’t kink shame the poor guy, who are you to police his eclectic culinary desires?” Now the two of you couldn’t help but burst into another fit of laughter. Both your avatars were idle standing, the game somewhat abandoned in favor for the conversation.

“Hey I’m not kink shaming, we all have our weird kinks” Donnie smiled sitting back on his swivel chair. You clicked out of the dating site, chin resting on your hand. “Are we finally having this conversation? Cause I love this shit, it’s my bread and butter” You sat back in your gaming chair, tucking your knees.

Donnie felt so shy but the barrier of mistery the two of you had built urged him on. He was curious, like stupid curious what you looked like and while he had everything to figure out exactly where you were, it wasn’t morally correct for him. So why not just indulge in the conversation?

“Well it’s not feet, sorry to disappoint” He heard you laugh, an infectious sound he had grown to enjoy so much. “Feet are so passé anyways, what about bondage?” You spun slowly in your chair, the sounds of Don adjusting and clicking on the keyboard ringing in your ears.

“Bondage is a go, especially sensory deprivation” He was checking some documents April had forwarded to him in regards to a case they were dealing with, but he could multitask. You made an approving noise, nodding while taking a sip of your drink. “Into that D/s stuff?” You asked wanting to see what else he might like.

“Well yeah, but I do enjoy more um... Fem Dom stuff” He finished up the email he wrote out for April and hit send. “A man with taste, not something we get often” You chuckled but decided to add. “I wouldn’t mind having a guy submit to me” You bit the inside of your cheek a little shy suddenly.

Something about that statement made heat spread south for Donnie. The concept of being dominated? By a woman? He peaked a look behind him, pushing one side of his headset down to hear what his brothers might be up to but he heard only music and chatting voices.

“What’s your favorite thing?” He inquired almost too softly.

“Erotic ASMR” There was no trace of embarrassment in your voice and that somehow made Donnie hot.

“Maybe we frequent the same sites for that” Don boldly threw out. You made an approving face before sitting forward and typing on your keyboard. A beat or two later Donnie saw an email notification from you on one of his many burner emails. He opened it finding links to audios from various sites all catered to erotic audios. Donnie whistled, this was a gold mine and true to his predictions you did indeed have some of his favorite sites to peruse.

“It’s not just male audios by the way, there’s women too” You sat back once again, nervously playing with your hair. “Thanks... Well I do like hearing both” Donnie confessed, voice avoiding a stutter.

You grinned. Oh he was even more fun that you could’ve expected.

Curiously enough that had been the tamest experience into yours and Donnie’s sex talks. Because it hadn’t really stopped at that, they progressively escalated little by little. Fave kinks had turned to fave sites, fave sites had turned into fave videos. Donnie never pictured he’d share his hidden folder with a stranger no less.

You nor Donnie could really say how the two of you had ended up one late night, with yet another abandoned game, talking about weird but satisfying cyber sex experiences. Some of your stories had been on the more comical side but a few had riled Donnie up to the point that he couldn’t ignore it. There was a shift in your voice as well, an allure that enticed him.

“Can I be honest?” You licked your suddenly dry lips. Donnie tensed momentarily, not sure what to expect. “Of course, please” You squeezed your thighs together, ‘please’ shouldn’t sound so good coming out of his mouth. You trace lazy circles on your thighs, something pushed you. “I’m kinda turned on by this...by talking to you about all this stuff” Maybe this was overstepping it, surely there was nothing wrong between two adult friends discussing such matters.

There was no need to tell Don that you had yearned to put a face to the name. But his hesitance spoke of insecurities and you could understand that.

“I am too...” Donnie looked up at what he called a ceiling in his home, the darkness of the sewer system and concrete. He’d never have a chance with you, it was a deeply rooted desire for intimacy and if virtually he could obtain it then so be it.

For all your boldness you felt a wave of bashfulness hit, crashed around your self confidence. Then Donnie steps up and you feel your toes curl in excitement. “Do you want to have a better experience?” Donnie runs both hands down his face, who was he to provide better experiences, he’d never even physically had a partner. The slow sigh that escapes your throat is comforting static in his headset. “Yeah, yeah I really do actually” You feel a smile etch itself on your lips.

“You can call me Donnie” It’s the closest to his name, and truthfully he really wants to hear you say it.

“Y/N,” You say to which Donnie makes an approving noise, he finds your name to be pretty. He rolls it in his mouth, testing the syllables, he can envision moaning it, well he wants to moan it if he can be completely honest. He wants to put a face to that name but he quickly pushes the thought out. There’s a pregnant pause where neither of you engage or make the first attempt. Not wanting to let this mood flee, Donnie swallows and closes his eyes. The hum of the abandoned game grounding him.

“Say my name again” It’s not a forceful demand, all the contrary he wants to hear the pitch in your voice when you say it, he wants to picture how each tone would variate depending on what he would do or say. “Donnie...” You smile to yourself when you say it, a hint of desire nestled in it and Don notices that and wants more of it.

There’s a lengthy sigh from your behalf, hands wandering up your thighs towards your chest. “I’d like to be there right now, would like to say it against your lips” Your bold confessions makes Donnie’s pulse quicken. He runs a ghosting touch up his plastron, the vision of a delicate hand doing it. The imaginary weight of you on his lap grinding down on his hard member. Donnie grips himself through his shorts a soft groan escaping his parted lips.

“Want you to kiss me” He swallows dryly, the approving noise you make pushing him forward. “Feel your lips all over, feel your mouth around me...” He lifts his hips, hand cupping himself and the small hitch in your breath is a sound he wants permanently recorded in his brain.

“God are you big? I bet you are” You kneed your breast, thumb and forefinger pinching the sensitive nubs until they’re perked. Donnie smirks to himself, freeing his aching member and looking down at himself. Mutant genes aside he feels somewhat shamefully proud of his cock, he wonders if you would like it... deeply buried within you. “Yeah I am, I think you can take it something tells me” You catch that teasing tone and the urge to swallow him whole and make him see stars is too much.

Your hand finds its way into your underwear, the warm wetness making you moan as you tease your middle finger between the lips to find your sensitive nub there. You bite back another lengthy moan but recover enough to breathlessly say, “oh fuck, Donnie” and that very sound makes him shiver. Never did he think he’d hear something so temptingly good, said with such sincerity. God the things he would do to smell your arousal right now, to taste the wetness. “Push two fingers in slowly” Donnie almost pleas, his voice shakey, hand pumping his cock at a steady pace. You do as he wishes, your gutted moan making more precum gather at the tip of his member.

“God-shit- you sound so good, wish you were riding my big dick right now” He wants to chastise himself for saying something like that, but he can’t deny that statement shakes something in you. He can hear it, the sound of your fingers mixed with a continuously rising string of moans. “Ohmygod” Words tumble out strewn together by your pleasure. “Donnie please, please fuck me harder” That alone makes him sit up and push forwards, one hand on his desk as the other works himself up in upward twisting strokes.

Donnie can’t erase the idea of slamming into you right here on his desk, maybe bent over, maybe you’ll let him cum on your face...

He pushes the idea away, he can’t envision your face now, not right now, not when your moans have you sounding this deliciously in need. You’re plunging two fingers into your core as your free hand runs firm circles around your clit. “Christ Donnie you sound so good baby” You moan, perspiration covering your body and Donnie can only groan his approval.

There’s a few minutes where it’s just the two of you lost in your own pleasure together. The constant chants of ‘fuck’ and ‘god’ and ‘yes’ mixed between the two of you. “Say it... again” Donnie groans out, hand quickening, briefly gathering some saliva and letting it fall on his hard member for better traction. “Don-oh, Donnie cum in me!” You’re so far gone, not caring what comes out of your mouth. The wet sounds in your head set and a vibration you figured could be static mixed with his groans was all you heard.

Donnie’s hips twitch, feels that request swim inside of his brain and the image of burying himself as deeply as you could take is all he needs. Just as your moans rise in crescendo he feels the first twitch and relief of his orgasm overtake him. He’s never felt it hit him this hard it knocks the wind out of him, each rope shooting out onto his hand and floor. In his minds eye though, it’s your suffocating heat taking it, milking him until he’s a shivering mess. It plays perfectly like a movie, he swears he can even feel your lips at his neck and arms holding him tight.

Your sounds are enough to keep him stroking, the way your voice pitched up with the sound of his name entwined, forever recorded in his brain. Your entire body tensed to the point of uncomfortable but it was impossible to stop abruptly when he sounded so lost in you. Your leg shakes and stiffens and it takes every inch of control to not become liquid and slip away into comforting bliss.

Eventually the sounds of heavy breathing slowly but surely settling are the only things the two of you can hear in your ears. There’s a mess, for you and for him. The understanding of things transpired crossing each of you two’s brains. Should you speak first? Should he?

“Um, you with me?” You settle, skin sweaty and mouth dry. There’s movement on the other line, a quiet cuss here and there and you smile. “Yeah, sorry just... made a mess” His voice has that sheepish tone and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Great thing about being a girl, we can conceal the evidence better” You stretch your aching legs enjoying each joint pop. “The female anatomy never seizes to amaze me, trust me” Donnie leans back in his chair, napkin cleaning any other soiled spot.

The silence was somewhat comfortable, the buzzing of good chemicals slowly settling.

“Was this okay?” He asked, hesitant tone in your ears.

“More than okay if you ask me” You kept it light not wanting him to feel odd or even ashamed.

You ventured on slowly, forming the question in your brain and bouncing it back and forward with a swallow. “If, and I mean if you want to, we can maybe do this from time to time” You worried a thumbnail between your teeth. Donnie’s gaze watching the idle screen of the abandoned game, he thought hard but briefly.

“I... yeah I would” He smiles to himself, even if the nagging thought that this might not last clutches the back of his mind. Why ruin a good thing? This was good more than good and you suggested to continue.

He doesn’t want to preoccupy his brain with scenarios, or if that dreaded ‘let’s meet’ sentence decides to cross your lips. If this is the inch of intimacy he gets to have and it’s with you, who he has grown so fond of, then he’s selfishly taking that inch and guarding it with his life.

Mutely you both remain on the line, no words spoken from the agreement, just simply enjoying that the two of you were present.

Even if not physically.

[jisungscaramel]

vexation | hyunjin

❀ genre; smut, college au, enemies au  ❀ pairing; hyunjin x reader (fem) ❀ word count; 2.7k 

[warning] strong language, explicit sexual content, dry humping, (mild) begging, hate sex

There it was: Hwang Hyunjin, name beautifully printed right above yours. You shuddered in complete disgust, not believing that you were paired with him of all people for your history presentation. There were 34 students in the class; that meant you had a whopping 97% chance of being paired with literally anyone else, but no. Your professor, Dr. Zhang, just had to pair you with him. 

Overachiever: that was an understatement. He was the type to want all of the glory for the taking, the type to enjoy making others feel like they were dumb, the type who had no issue in forsaking common morals for his own gain. 

You couldn’t fucking stand him. 

Begrudgingly, you stood up from your original seat, trudging your feet to sit next to him - at your professor’s instruction, of course. You planned on at least being polite, and you thought for a second that he might do the same, but he didn’t even bother looking at you, staring through to the front of the room, eyes stoic. If he was trying to provoke you, it was definitely working. 

You dropped your backpack to the ground, unceremoniously, sound drowning in the increasing levels of chatter in the small lecture hall, but clearly loud enough to make his composure teeter; his head jerked back a millimeter, a minuscule gesture but it was painfully obvious to you. And you let out an equally obvious slew of snickers before sitting back in the seat, neck meeting the old frayed fabric as you tilted your head back, arms stacking on one another as you folded them, woman spreading to occupy more real estate than you actually required.

You had to at least try to keep yourself amused. 

Hyunjin began scribbling mindlessly on a blank piece of paper - still acting as if you were not even there. 

He slammed the white sheet down on your knee, sending vibrations straight up your leg rather rudely. 

Asshole. 

Oh, baby, he hadn’t even started yet. 

“Okay. We’re doing our paper on I-Hotel and… I’m gonna write it. All you have to do is find these books for me at the library.” He turned to look at you with a very aggravating smirk… maybe you’d notice the tiniest hint of flirtation if the feeling of overwhelming irritation didn’t encompass you. 

But the chance passed when his countenance morphed into counterfeit concern, tapping his chin in contemplation for added effect, “although, I think the library’s computer system is down… I guess you gotta find them the old-fashioned way.” God, you just wanted to smack that smug grin right off his face. “I’d love to help you with that... but I’m just too busy…” It should’ve been illegal for intolerable people to be that gorgeous.

You blinked in complete confusion. “Ummm… excuse me?” 

“I’m… sorry… do… I… need… to … talk… slower…?”

You gingerly picked up the piece of paper, promptly getting up from your chair, glaring at him. You made sure your backpack was secure on your shoulder before dramatically lifting the note in front of his face to tear what he wrote to shreds, scattering the bits over his laptop’s keyboard. “Stick a motherfucking cactus up your ass.” 

You stormed out of that hall with your head high, not daring to look back despite your innate desire to see his response - you were sure it was priceless. 

‘I’ll just have to do this damn thing on my own.’

Oh, if it could only be that simple. 

The first thing that popped up on your laptop when you opened it from the safety of the library was an unexpected email. 

Since you ripped up my list - rather rudely I might add - I’ve attached the list of the books I require. I will be at the library at four PM sharp. Please plan accordingly. Hyunjin 

“Fuck.” 

‘Plan accordingly,’ your ass, according to you, your plan was to minimize the amount of time you had to spend dealing with Hyunjin, and you had been 100% sure he had the same sentiment… so much for that. 

Speaking of the devil, as soon as you decided to dismiss his outlandish request and settle in to get some of your research started, Hyunjin yanked your attention away from your laptop with merely his presence, almost as if your nerves were hypersensitive to his saccharine dipped aura, and most definitely not to the signature sway of his frame as he walked. 

You didn’t dare grant him the luxury of your direct gaze. Instead, you kept a close eye on him in your peripheral, hoping you’d blend in with the people around you… but there was still at least a 92% chance he’d see you.

“Did you get my sources?” and now he was right in front of you, nothing but a measly table in between. 

Your nostrils flared in an effort to not retort back at Hyunjin, eyes still fixed on your screen in a successful attempt to ignore him. 

Then he pushed your laptop closed, hand planted firmly on the device rather invasively. “Excuse me, I’m talking to you.”

You gritted your teeth, tilting your head up in a menacing stare, eyes narrowing, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you want?” 

God, you didn’t know his smile could get more fake than it already was. “I told you to get my sources for me,” his tone was exaggeratedly slow, “did you get my sources?” 

You shoved his hand away from your laptop. “Get your own sources.” 

Immediately his fake smile turned into a sincere snicker, rolling his eyes off to the side. “Uptight bitch.” 

His words sank in for a moment. “You wanna say that again?” 

He leaned over the table, face a mere six inches from yours. “Uptight,” you could feel your fists involuntarily clenching, digging into your palms what would soon be prominent crescents in a matter of seconds, “bitch.” 

You almost raised your palm to gratuitously slap him across the face but the simmering mellowness in you kept a tight grasp of your boiling anger. You leaned back in your seat in an effort to widen the physical gap (or the lack thereof) between you. “Fuck off.”

<><><><><><> 

“Hyunjin, y/n, can you both come down to the podium,” Dr. Zhang added at the end of his lecture, halting your plans to b-line straight to the library. 

As the aisles began to empty, you made your way down the steps to the front of the room, purposefully standing at the side opposite of Hyunjin, frankly paying no mind to him for all intents and purposes. 

Your professor glanced between you two, clearly noticing the oddity of the image but purposefully choosing to ignore it. 

“I noticed that both of you submitted first drafts for your paper, and at first I thought it was an accident, until I opened both files and realized you’re writing completely separate papers. Care to explain?” 

“Yeah y/n, care to explain?” What a fucking dicktard. 

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you wracked your brain for some feasible excuse. “Well,” but nothing came to mind… oh fuck it, “we’ve had issues working with each other.” 

Dr. Zhang raised an eyebrow cautiously. “Elaborate.”

“We really don’t get along.”

He sighed, crossing his arms. “Well you’re gonna have to try to find some middle ground. I’ll give you two a second chance to put a first draft together. If you can submit a collaborative piece by midnight, I’ll still give you full credit for that part. If not, it stays as a zero. Subsequently, you will keep getting zeroes for the following checkpoints if you submit them separately. Any questions?” 

“No, sir,” much to your surprise, that was the first moment thus far wherein both you and Hyunjin were on the same wavelength. 

“Good, that is all.” 

You felt like two negatively charged magnets as you walked side by side up the aisle to the exit. “I’m not getting a zero for this,” Hyunjin spoke up. 

You rolled your eyes. “At least we can agree on that.”

As the cold, crisp air of the outside refreshed your nerves, he lightly gripped your shoulder, swerving you to face him. “Look, I know we’re like oil and water, but I’m willing to at least try to get along for the grade.” His fingers trembled on your shoulder; his teeth lightly grazed his bottom lip, eyes searching yours for a sign of truce. 

Needless to say, the sentiment from him was unexpected. You exhaled deeply, brushing his hand from you. “Fine.”

<><><><><><><> 

But two hours spent alone in a library study room proved to be more difficult than originally anticipated. Trying to work together felt like pulling teeth - a true collaboration of absolute vexation.  

“What about this passage?” You pointed to some text in a book you were sifting through. 

He swiveled his chair around, only looking at your find for a solid half a second before, turning back around. “Nah, that’s not good enough to use as evidence.” 

“What the fuck, Hyunjin? You didn’t even read it.”

“I didn’t have to. I assumed whatever you found was as subpar as everything else you’ve ‘found.’”

You dropped the book on the table with a loud plonk, partially in shock at what he said and partially due to a natural tendency to want to irritate him. “Well let’s see what you ‘found,’” leaning over the table in a relaxed manner, carrying a dash of nonchalance as you scrolled through his writing. “You call this good evidence?”

“What on earth are you talking about?” You wanted to laugh at his defensive tone. 

“It’s obvious that you’re framing your own narrative by taking shit outta context. Not to mention all the ellipses and brackets are terrifically horrendous, visually. You’re taking literally all the credibility out.” 

“What do you know? I doubt you even read that article,” he dismissed your legitimate critique in a manner you unfortunately predicted. 

“As a matter of fact, I did… two. hours. ago. And you told me the article didn’t seem ‘reliable’ enough for you, but here you are… you must think I’m fucking stupid.” 

The side of his lips curved up in the slightest smirk. “Not true, I think you’re annoyingly absentminded.” 

You rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time in the past minute, whispering, “fucking cockmaggot,” under your breath, diverting your attention back to your screen. 

“What did you just say?” His tone suggested he wasn’t being rhetorical - he really didn’t hear you. There was something cute and innocent about his ignorance, the way his lips formed a subtle pout unintentionally, nose wrinkling in distaste. You mentally shook the image from your head, cursing yourself for thinking he was… ‘cute’ to begin with. 

“Nothing, My Liege, nothing at all,” mocking sarcasm spilled from your lips as you parted them to give them a disapproving smack. “This is complete shit; we can’t submit this.”

Hyunjin slammed his laptop closed, standing up abruptly. The action took you by surprise, making your neck shudder in a startle. “I can’t fucking do this anymore. Why do you have to be so fucking difficult?” Pent up rage was slathered all over his face, eyes twitching, eyebrows tightly knitting together, jaw unhinging from an excess of epinephrine. 

His anger diffused to you, violently charging your nerves. There was no way you were just gonna take his shit sitting down. “Why do you,” you stood up, chair rocking back from the velocity of your limbs, “have to be,” you turned around and gripped his collar with both hands, “such an insufferable asshole?” 

He was dumbfounded, wordless much to your satisfaction, but his eyes were unwavering, devoid of reaction. The time you spent stabbing each other with your unfaltering gazes felt like a goddamn eternity, tension coarse, sinfully tangible on your skin. 

It was fucking stifling. 

Before you even realized what was happening, your lips were latched together in a fervent frenzy, tension thickening for an entirely different reason now. 

There was something so breathtaking about the way his lips tightened against yours - literally. It felt like he was siphoning your soul from your body - any thought that dared to grace your mind oddly dissolved into nothingness as Hyunjin molded your lips into submission, tongue colonizing your oral cavity in an authoritative manner that was so in character for him. 

Not that you gave a fuck. 

His hands aggressively tugged at your waist; the impact of your body crashing onto his sent pangs up your spine, and in seconds, your back thudded against the wall, maintaining the momentum. You had to grip his shoulders purely for support, and definitely not because you were immersing in the moment.

You felt his grip loosen as his hands roamed downward, playfully drawing patterns on your skin with his fingers en route. And then they constricted around your thighs, lifting them up to his hips, and you hooked your ankles around his back as if it was the natural thing to do. 

The fabric of his pants became taut around the building frustration underneath, becoming oh so apparent to you when he started steady grinding against the thin fabric of your underwear - why did you have to wear a skirt today of all days?

You passed a reluctant whimper through his lips, wholly unable to deny the way your pulsing desire radiated heat through your core at the increasing friction. 

You broke away from the kiss, gasping. “Hyunjin…” you whispered almost breathlessly, desperation filling you as he continued his tantalizing test of your patience. 

“Hmmm?” There it was: that signature smug grin, but by this point, your senses were too preoccupied to even register it. 

“I can’t take this anymore.”

“Is that so?” He lifted you off the wall, pushing your laptops to either side so he could lay you on the table, spreading your legs to give him clear sight of your dampening sex. He snickered. “You look much better like this…” While ghosting one hand around your inner thighs, conveniently avoiding the place you needed him the most, he undid the button and zipper of his jeans with the other, sliding them down to his knees. 

You found yourself licking your lips at the silhouette of his bulge, now more prominent with less restricting fabric. Of course, he noticed; “so these are you true colors… I never would’ve thought you were such a dirty girl.” He brushed his fingers over the waistband of your underwear. “Where do you need me?” He pressed his thumb on your clit, “here?” 

Your teeth pressed down on your lips in an effort to stifle a moan. “Yes…” and even though you were successful the first time, there was no stopping the sounds from seeping through your lips when Hyunjin slammed his clothed erection on you once more, picking up exactly where he left off just moments ago. 

“Please, Hyunjin…” he pushed your thighs further apart, keeping them in place. 

“‘Please,’ what?” 

“I need you inside me, please.” 

His sinister laugh filled the small room. “I don’t know if you deserve it.” 

“Fucking asswipe.” 

“Now that doesn’t sound very convincing…” 

You groaned in pleasurable displeasure. “Hyunjin… please, I’m begging you. I really can’t take this.” 

“Don’t you care if someone tries to come in?” He raised an eyebrow, partially in curiosity, mostly in amusement. 

You glared right into his eyes. “No.” 

He shook his head, clicking his tongue as he stood back. “Get up.” Any urge you had to defy him before was long gone; you did as he asked and he harshly turned you around by your waist, pushing you toward one of the windows. 

While pushing you down against the glass with one hand, he reached in his front pocket with the other, grabbing a condom. He ripped the packaging with his teeth, skillfully sliding his boxers down to slip the vinyl over him. 

Not wanting to wait any longer, you aided him by pulling your panty down leaving yourself completely exposed for his taking, and you quickly pushed your hands on the glass, bracing yourself for the next few seconds, but nothing could’ve prepared you for that stretch that came. Your wrist slid down on the window pane to bite back a scream. 

“So tight.” 

 ><><><><><><><

A/N I’mma be honest: I had a fucking field day coming up with all those weird insults

[joshslater]

Quarantine & VR

5500-word story, so I used the Keep Reading feature for once. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

“Are you sure you’re OK with this?”

We were slowly driving through an eerily empty city center from my student flat next to campus on one side of town to Ethan’s flat on the other, with all my belongings stuffed in the back of the U-Haul. Not that I had so much stuff we needed one. I just moved into the state right before the semester started, but it was the cheapest rental we could get. No one is going anywhere with this lockdown in effect. We barely had time to read the syllabus before everything screeched to a halt. You thought we’d know by now how to handle pandemics, but nooo.

“I wouldn’t have helped you clear out your shit if I wasn’t. Bit late to ask now.” “Yeah, but it seemed like the polite thing to do.”

Ethan turned towards me and spoke with a more serious tone. “I’m really happy to have you stay at my place. I think I would go mad staying alone. Go mad or go home, and I don’t think being locked up with the parents would be better.”

He was about as new in the city as I was, but his aunt had moved out of an old apartment last year and his parents had decided to take over the lease. Apparently it was even cheaper than the student apartments and much larger, but further away from campus. Though where it was in the city didn’t really matter as long as this lockdown was going on.

“Someone else is out at least”, I said indicating out the window. Across the street, a police officer with a navy blue face mask followed our truck with his eyes. Or her eyes I guess. Hard to tell in uniform and mask. I don’t know why, but I found it a rather good look. I hate the flimsy paper masks, but these form-fitted ones kind of make you look more badass.

“Do you think he looks sexy like that?” he asked, as if he had the same thought. “It’s a bit dystopian sci-fi, but that’s not to say it doesn’t look good.” “Take next right. The one after is one way.”

The apartment had two bedrooms, a large living room, decent bathroom and kitchen. Ethan’s aunt had left some furniture, but overall there wasn’t that much stuff. Makes sense as he had barely been here a month. That’s how he had a sparsely furnished extra bedroom for me to use. This was only the second time I had been in the apartment. Ethan forced me to have a look in person before he allowed me to agree to stay with him. Now standing there with all my belongings in the truck outside and my student flat lease canceled, I realized we really didn’t know each other. I studied corporate finance and he medical computer science, whatever that meant. When I asked he tried to explain that almost everything in a hospital now has a computer in it, and a ton of work went into things like volumetric renderings of MRI scans and somewhere there I started to tune him out.

There really weren’t any overlapping circles between us, we studied completely different subjects, he was active in computer games and health, I was trying to get into the writing room of the student theatre company and looking to sign up in the cinema club. But both of us had the bright idea to start working in the student pub, and really hit it off during the start of school year party they threw for their workers. We decided to pick the same work schedule and found out we have the same taste in pop culture, music, books, movies.

And now I’m moving in with him.

He had the larger of the bedrooms with a queen-size bed in the middle, a desk with a few computers and screens set up, gaming computer chair, a reading chair. Basically his room was set up so he could live there except for visits to the kitchen and bathroom. My room didn’t have a desk, but a normal bed, an armchair that looked comfortable, and more wardrobe space than I would ever need. He told me that I could basically consider the living room as mine as well. It had two couches in front of a big flat screen. By the balcony door stood a workout bench and weights. Barbell, plates, dumbbells, and that kind of stuff. Apparently it wasn’t Ethan’s but his uncle’s, but that didn’t really make a difference here and now.

Moving my stuff only took a few runs up the stairs, so we were soon back in the truck, returning it to the rental place. Ethan really didn’t have to come with me, but he said that this would probably be the last adventure for a while, and decided to come along.

“You’re supposed to buy pizza and beer for everyone who helps you move, right? What do you fancy?” “I’d like… You know what? We’re not going to get out much, and you don’t look like someone on a strict diet. Oh, no offense!” “None taken.” “How about we both keep healthy macros and workout regimen while locked up. Instead of paying rent you can help me make sure I at least isn’t in worse shape when all this shit ends.” “Macros?” “Diet.” “Sure I can do that, if you show me what to do.” “It’s a deal then. I’d like one with Gorgonzola and ham.” “Come again?” “The pizza topping. I’m allowed one cheat day per pandemic.”

The pizza place was only a block away from the apartment. Just this one time it was great, as we walked back with one quattro formaggi and one bresaola. But it would be so much harder to eat whatever Ethan had in his plans knowing a real wood fire oven pizza was just four minutes walk away.

Unprompted Ethan started to tell his story over pizza. How his father was a successful businessman in Arkansas, but his hometown always felt too small for him. He talked about how he was making synth music in school. How that made him interested in computers. How, since it was such a small town, he had ended up on the football team without any desire or skill to actually play the game. How he had almost by accident found this education program and had looked forward to both leave Arkansas and to study. I too did a year be year recap of my life so far, up to how my girlfriend dumped me just before the summer. In a way that was lucky, because it made me feel free from obligations and actually do what I wanted.

It was 9:21 when I woke up from a knock on the door. I was a bit disoriented for a second until I remembered where I was. I was sleeping in the guest bed left by Ethan’s aunt. After the pizza we did continue to talk over beer all evening, but I didn’t feel any hangover. Just thirsty. It wasn’t that early in the morning anymore on the other hand. “Yep” I called out. “I’m making breakfast,” Ethan called out from the other side of the door. “Coming”.

It literally only took me seconds to get ready. Stand up. Sweatpants. T-shirt. Done. In the kitchen I saw Ethan had a similar fashion sense, but had gone for shorts instead. “Porridge is fine with you? It would be good if it is. Lots of fibers.” I couldn’t really recall if I liked porridge and told him as much. The porridge itself didn’t taste much, but with toppings I could get used to it. “With our schedule in our own hands I think it would be a good idea to start out with breakfast and work out. That way we can get it out of the way.” Sounded sensible enough.

I changed into shorts as well and made myself ready to do my part of becoming Ethan’s gym buddy. At a quick glance we didn’t look that different, Ethan and I. On one hand I never had that big of an appetite, but on the other I had never really done any sports, and had no gym experience, so I let Ethan guide me. He tested different motions and how many times I could do them with weights he selected and noted down the results in a notebook that would log my progress. It wasn’t at all as tiring as I thought it would be. “Oh, you’ll feel it tomorrow for sure.” We each took a shower, and I went back to my room to catch up on my reading.

A few hours later I was starting to think about lunch. More because I was getting tired of reading than actually being hungry, but I thought I should ask Ethan if he had a plan. The door to his room was open, but as I got closer it became apparent it was an oversight on his part. Splayed on the bed was Ethan, naked save for a pair of boxer shorts and a big VR goggles. His right hand was massaging his obviously erect dick through the fabric of his underwear. He must have followed his normal routine and forgotten I had moved in. I’m not a prude and do the occasional tug myself, like any student, so I was more embarrassed than shocked. As on autopilot, my mind decided to ignore Ethan and continue walking to the kitchen to assess the lunch situation, but another part of my brain decided to keep him in sight.

Walking without watching in an apartment I’ve been in for all of 18 hours predictably made me jam my toe into the door frame. In the corner of my eye I could see Ethan’s body spasm and ripping off his VR goggles as I yell out in pain and surprise. He stared right at me, eyes wide open and mouth ajar in an expression that was hard to read. Surprise for sure, but also something else in between horror and delight. Perhaps it was like the smiles and laughter after you have completely made a fool of yourself. My eyes were drawn to his, and I could feel my face twisted in pain. It was like time stood still, waiting for either of us to make the next move. Out of sheer momentum my mind continued ahead as if nothing had changed and blurted out “What’s your plan for lunch?” over whatever Ethan said at the same time.

“What?” and an awkward pause again. “I said would you like to try?” “I… What is it?”

Ethan put down the VR kit on the bed, quickly got up and stepped into his pair of shorts. His erection was still very much apparent. He pressed escape on one of the keyboards and the screen switched from one incomprehensible menu to another.

“It’s a virtual reality system. I’m using an open source environment system to render inputs from an interactive story engine controlled by a GAN AI system. I’ve been experimenting with regenerative NLP feedback loop plugins for it.” “I followed you all the way up to and including virtual reality system.” “It’s like a VR movie that is generated specifically for you. Here.”

He picked up the bulky goggles and held it out to me. It wasn’t just goggles, but a pair of headphones were built in, and there were a few additional sensors glued on. Hesitantly, and with a throbbing toe, I stepped forward and took the headset. It wasn’t as heavy as it looked. I put it on my head and as it settled into place a digital version of Ethan’s room wobbled into place as well. It was remarkably similar. The colors and patterns were all slightly wrong, but the layout of the room and placement of furniture was almost spot on. I assume he had measured everything at one point and put in the data somehow.

“Go lie on the bed.” Ethan told me. I very tentatively stepped towards the bed, and feeling my way there. It was somehow surprised to find a bed where the digital bed was, and although the visuals of the sheets didn’t quite line up with what I felt, if you just moved quick enough the illusion of actually being in the digital room felt very real.

“This is so weird.” “I’ll start a blank session for you.” “A what?”

Almost immediately a guy entered the room through the door frame. This must be some VR video recording or something because he looked completely real. About the same age as Ethan and I but more fit and, I’ll admit, better looking. He looked flush and sweaty, with his french crop unkempt as if he had just ruffled it. He wore a navy blue sweatshirt and sweatpant shorts. I couldn’t see further down from my position. “Fuck, that was so dope! I love getting pump like that, you know what I’m saying” He was stretching his arms in different ways. Then he zoned in on me, like he was actually looking me over. “Fuck, I love how you look, babe. Mind if I join?” I shake my head slowly. He breaks out in a big smile. I notice he has a bit of a sweatpants boner. Carefully he climbs into bed, next to me. There’s no vibrations of course, or heat or smell, but everything I see looks utterly convincing.

“Hey, are you OK?” “What the…”

I’m looking into Ethan’s face as he stands over me. Bewildered I pat my head.

“I removed it once the program stopped. Didn’t shake you from your sleep one bit. I guess it wasn’t that interesting for you.” “It was very convincing. I fell asleep?” “Perhaps moving stressed you more than you knew? Or it could just be, you know, how shit the world is right now.” “Fuck… I only wanted to ask about lunch.” “A bit late for that. It’s like four and something. Let’s wait an hour or two more and have dinner. Ok with you?” “Sounds dope.”

It was like neither of us wanted to talk about what had happened. I certainly had questions. Had I just fallen asleep like that? Perhaps he was right and I had been anxious about the move and how things would work out. And what was up with that program? It wasn’t gay, exactly, and it didn’t mean Ethan was gay, and if he was there wasn’t anything wrong with that. All of it was just so confusing. Perhaps Ethan was right to just pretend it didn’t happen. Poor guy. I walked in on him watching porn, and then I fell asleep when he tried to show his system. Watching the news on how ever more countries were shutting down was probably time better spent.

He had not joked about being sore in the morning. I woke earlier than in weeks feeling stiff as hell. I didn’t want to wake Ethan, but I couldn’t just lie there in agony, so I got up and did some bodyweight repetitions. Squats, push-ups, dips, and stuff like that just to get some blood flowing. It honestly felt great. Me doing morning gymnastics! Who would have guessed that a week ago? When I left my room I found out Ethan was already up, but didn’t want to wake me up.

“Dude, we need to sort that shit out. I’m ok with you making noise when you’re up. You live here.” “You live here too. What if whoever gets up first makes breakfast and wakes the other up.” “Yeah, dope. I’m down with that.”

We quickly worked out the kinks in our schedule. I would typically wake up first, do a quick workout routine in my room. Then set the breakfast and wake up Ethan. Then we would do workout together. We had different weights and number of reps, but we had very quickly settled on the same exercises, though Ethan was still adjusting my form ever so often. Ethan would then shower first while I did stretches. We then kept to ourselves until lunch. Ethan cooked for both of us. Depending on what we felt like and needed we would either go back to study or do something like shopping or that kind of stuff in the afternoon.

It was hard to keep track of time, but I think it was on a Sunday four weeks later when Ethan said during breakfast that he wanted to show me something he had worked on. He moved the workout bench and the barbell stuff to just outside his room and told me to lie down. The bar had no plates on it, and that’s how I’ve used it until two days ago when I started to add extra weight to it. Ethan emerged out of his room with the VR set in hand, and a trail of cables running in into one of his computers. “Here, give this a go.”

I was a bit surprised, given the last time, but I was also curious what he had to show. Once snugly fitted on my head I was transported into a real gym. It wasn’t a very large one, but a few people did their thing around me. He almost scared me, the guy with the french crop, when he called out “Hey, bro!” just to my left. He had the same navy blue sweatpant shorts as the last time, but his upper body was bare, glistening muscles. He took a step back and his eyes were scanning me up and down. “Dude, you look so fucking good! You’ve really been hitting the weights.” I smiled and immediately realized that I was smiling at an avatar that wasn’t actually there and couldn’t see me, but it’s amazing how good some positive reinforcement feels, even if it is from a program. Perhaps that was the surprise from Ethan.

“Here, show me what you got!”

He walked around me, through the couch I knew was there in the real room, and stood behind me. I leaned back fully on the bench and looked up. He stood over me, just behind my head, so all I saw was a navy blue bulge, some abs and pecs, and his face looking down on me. “Go on, I’ve got you.” I could somehow feel him standing over me. Was Ethan spotting me in the real world? Not that it matters with an empty bar. I grabbed it. It felt heavy. “Good. Give me 15.” He started counting as I lifted. “Slower on the way down. Keep control all the way. Ten more” As I was getting to fifteen he upped it a bit. “Come one! Five more!” As I sat the bar back I felt utterly exhausted. “Fucking awesome, dude!”

“You really went all out.” “What?”

I was lying on the workout bench but I wasn’t wearing any VR shit. I sat up and hit my head in the barbell.

“Fuck! Dude, what the hell!” “The idea was for it to be motivational, but you really took it to heart.” “It was fucking dope, bro. I’m so pumped. Guy was kind of cute too.” “You think?” “Fuck, yeah. I wish I had those pecs.” “You better start some supplements then, if you can’t even last a virtual session.” “What you mean, dude?” “It’s already lunch.” “Fuck dammit!”

I rubbed my head where I had hit it and looked around the room. It looked mostly like before, but the sun had clearly moved ahead. Fuck, I really felt pumped to get some reps in hard and really make a difference. Perhaps lunch, and then do my daily sets.

“You ok with shopping without me after lunch?” “Sure. You need anything?” “I… You said supplements.”

Fortunately for me I have a roommate that studies medicine, kind of. Well, he hasn’t actually gone to any of the classes yet, but he has the books, so he picked out some things for me to boost me. Some of it looked like medicine, in small plastic jars with scientific-sounding names that could just as well have been a frat house. Alpha-omega-manganese-BS-whatever. Some of it decidedly did not look like medicine. Enormous containers with lids that looked too fucking small, with names like amazing-gainz-ultra. He set up a regimen for me to follow, basically some stuff with every meal. I started right away that evening with something like a vanilla and chalk milkshake after dinner. I don’t know why, but something made me feel really good drinking it.

I slept fucking fantastic, and despite having done way more lifting the day before than ever I barely felt any soreness or anything. I probably woke up Ethan with my harder than normal pre-breakfast cardio. Lots of burpees and jumping jacks, so I almost felt guilty making breakfast while steaming sweaty, but whatever. Ethan had to remind me what supplements to take. I really should have written that shit down.

I had a strong deja vu while doing weights. It wasn’t until Ethan spotted barbell for me I realized that this was almost exactly what I had seen doing the VR shit. I looked up and saw Ethan standing over me similar to the guy, but Ethan was wearing grey sweatpant shorts and a red tank. I kind of wished he was topless as well, like the other guy.

“You ok down there?” “Fucking dope, bro”

I realized I must have zoned out a bit. What’s worse I could feel I rocked a hard erection out of nowhere. Rather than making a deal out of it, and run to the shower, I decided to pretend like everything is normal. Guys get boners all the times. He’s a guy, so he knows that. I even did a few extra exercises to really drive home that point. While Ethan took his shower I dared to lower my shorts and slowly stroke my dick. I haven’t cummed once since moving in with Ethan, which I realized was longer than I’ve gone in years. The days were blurring together. I hadn’t watched porn either since moving in. I’ve been too preoccupied with the move and everything else going on.

“All yours” Ethan said and closed the door to his room. I just froze. I was sitting on the workout bench, shorts by my ankles and dick in hand. He saw that. There is no way he didn’t see that. I could feel my face getting hot by embarrassment, yet I continued to sit there and stroke my dick. What the fuck is wrong with me. My mind flashed to Ethan, to the guy in the VR, to his bulge just above my eyes, to his abs to the barbell, to the free weights.

No. I got up and took a long shower, trying really hard to not think about anything. Just observing the tiles, the shampoo bottles, the soap. But there were the creeping thoughts that perhaps Ethan will find me a weird creep and kick me out. How would he do it? He’s been far too nice to be direct. Would he bring up this incident or would he just wait a week or something and over one lunch say something vague like we are not as good of a match as he hoped? Fuck. I needed to do something.

I couldn’t concentrate at all on the block on taxation I was supposed to read. Apart from the residual thoughts of unease I was beginning to see what a mistake it was to not cum in the shower. I was very close to surfing porn sites, but decided against it and ended up aimlessly browsing social media. I can’t really explain how, a hundred clicks that trended in that direction perhaps, but I got into the circles of fitness instagram people. Big arms, broad chests, and slinky stringers. Somehow I was hard again. Stealthily I walked back to the bathroom, locked the door, and started to jerk off in the shower. I’d been saving for a week and been hot all day, but somehow it took quite a while to shoot the load. My mind was a soup of barbells, Ethan, sweatpant shorts, vague old porn clips, and more recent instagram models. When I finally came it was like I’ve never orgasmed before in my life. Rope after rope shot out of me, the first few even hit the wall, and my hips involuntary thrust forward for each of them. I felt cleansed in a way, like a weight had been lifted from me. I couldn’t really understand why, though. Nothing had really changed.

I didn’t want to go back to my room and study. I rinsed the shower, got a pad and a pen, and went to the kitchen to get on top of the supplements. I decided to write down all the ingredients from the labels. I had just accepted Ethan’s plan uncritically. It’s probably fine, but I wanted to understand it. That’s where Ethan found me.

“Hey, dude. Already hungry?” “Yeah… No… I don’t know, bro.” “You don’t know?” “It’s like… Fuck. You saw, bro.” “Saw what? You jerking off?” He laughed and sat down. “You saw me doing it first.”

He was right, of course. I didn’t know how that could have slipped my mind.

“Was it porn?” I didn’t know why I asked that. I was curious, but it also felt a bit too personal of a question. “Yeah. Wanna see?”

Before I even had time to respond he continued “Let’s fill up your macros first and then I can show you. If past experiences are any indications you’ll take your time.” “Already jacked off today.” Why did I tell him that? “Even better”

Ethan had this ever changing dish where he would chop and fry vegetables like bell pepper, chili, garlic, ginger, onion, peas, and whatever else was around, pour in coconut milk and whatever spices you craved that day green curry or red curry for Thai, madras curry for Indian, Soy and miso for Japanese, anise and szechuan for Chinese, saffron and parmesan for Italian, and so on. Then serve it with pasta or grains or rice. I helped him prepare it, as I always do unless he started making it without telling me. This time however the air was different, filled with tension and awkward anticipation. He made it with chicken, lemon grass, and brown rice this time. We hardly spoke a word while cooking, and then continued to eat in silence. We both knew what was on my mind, and there wasn’t any question on the subject that wouldn’t be awkward. I was weirdly looking forward to trying out whatever it was he wanted me to try. I couldn’t explain why it felt so compelling to me. Just thinking about it made me hard. “You clean up here and I’ll go and set it up for you,” he said as soon as his plate was empty. “Yeah,” was all I could manage, and he left. I finished my plate as well, put the few things we’ve used in the dishwasher and went to his room.

His bed was made and on it was the VR headset and what I first though was a protein drink shaker. “Dude, is that a… fleshlight?” I asked him both with incredulity and genuine curiosity. Curiosity because a cable ran from it to one of the boxes on the floor that connected to his computers, and incredulity because I couldn’t believe he thought I would use one of his sex toys.

“Yes. No. Not exactly. It’s modified to connect into the haptic subsystem.” “Haptic?” “Force feedback” “It’s a vibrator, bro.” “Eh.. No. Well, not only. You’ll see.” “Why do you think I’d touch that, bro?” Though somewhere inside I knew I would. “It’s a brand new inset. You’ll be fine.”

I walked up to the bed and suddenly wasn’t sure what to do. I would need to at least lower my shorts and boxers to get the until-recently-fleshlight on my dick, but Ethan was still in the room. Not only in the room but almost studying me like a lab project.

“I’ll lie down?” “Got to strip first,” he said motioning towards my tenting shorts. He saw me hesitated and continued “Dude, I just saw you jerk off in the living room this morning”. I blushed and pulled down my shorts and boxers, and stepped out of them. “Shirt too,” he said. I removed that as well and stood naked in front of him. “Wow, you are making progress. Ok, on the bed and hook yourself up. Red dot up.” I climbed into the bed, as he told me, and grabbed the cyber-fleshlight and pushed it down on my hard dick with the red dot up towards my head. There was some sort of lubrication in it and it slid on with very little effort. It must have been heated as well, because the lubrication didn’t make it feel cold. I was given a nod from Ethan and put on the helmet over my eyes and ears.

The alternative version of Ethan’s bedroom was already there, waiting for me. I looked around and as far as I could tell everything looked like in the real world, except no Ethan of course. After half a minute, perhaps more, I was almost about to ask if he had started it when the French crop guy jumped in through the doorway, as if he was in a hurry. He was naked except for a pair of white, tight speedos that both highlighted his big package and created a reference point for his deep tan and made it look even deeper. There was a sheen over all his body, like he had been working out hard or oiled himself up, and he was breathing heavy. “Sorry, I’m late. I didn’t expect you so soon,” he panted. I didn’t know what to say. “You want me to help you with that?” he asked and nodded towards my dick. I looked down and saw a massive erection, easily twice my real size. “As an apology…” he continued.

“Yeah, sure bro.”

He made the cutest little jump of joy in response, and caught my smile. He composed himself and locked eyes with me. Then he started some sort of dance where all the movement was in his hips and abs. Then he added more of the upper body, still keeping eye contact. I thought I would hose him down with cum from my monster penis right there, so sexy was it. He smirked and moved closer. Still swaying he leaned forward and licked the head of my dick, which shot pleasure up my spine. He then started to circle the head with his tongue, before taking it into his mouth. The first few times were shallow, but then he stopped teasing and begun to really do down deep on the dick. In addition I could feel him alternate between stroking my hips, the insides of my thighs, and tugging my balls. Just as I was about to nut he stopped working on my dick and started to slowly run his tongue up my faint abs, circling my nipple. I was squirming in horny delight.

He was straddling me now, face to face. I couldn’t resist it any longer and reached to pull him towards me and kiss him on the mouth. There was a loud crack of plastic against plastic as our VR helmets collided. “Dude?” I was looking at the French crop guy who was moving his hands in front of his eyes. “Ethan?” I asked, suddenly realizing what was going on. The French crop guy looked bashful, did a little wave, and answered in not-Ethan’s voice “Yeah.”

“Did you just blow me?” “I wasn’t… No, it’s still the device.” I hesitated, considering briefly what this would mean. “Would you like to?”

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

We Met Within This Screen (chapt. 5)

[Donnie x fem reader]

sfw, chapt. 4 here

Just as Donnie had predicted, the night air was cold on his scales. Right upon leaving, Mikey brought up to Leo going in pairs this time, to cover more ground, he said. An extra thorough patrol. Donnie honestly couldn't make up his mind and so by then he was flying by the seat of his pants, not objecting to Mikey's plan, but also not agreeing. He doubted Leo would be convinced, anyway. They didn't do duo patrols that often. 

"I was thinking we could split up this time, you know, me and Donnie, you and Raph?" suggested Mikey, closing the manhole behind himself.

"I thought you liked it when we're all together," Leo commented. 

Donnie shot Mikey a look, trying to tell him to cool it, but he shrugged, "Come on, it'll be like some kind of training or...something," Mikey went behind Leo and shook his shoulders, "aren't you into that?"

Internally, Donnie facepalmed. Unless he actively tried to stop this, it was going to happen, wasn't it? One way or another, probably; it all depended on how Leo was feeling that night. Raph was indifferent. He didn't care whether they were all together or in pairs, just that he got to flex his combat skills some. If he could, he'd go out and do it on his own, even. 

Leo looked around, considering Mikey's suggestion. "Okay," he agreed, eventually. "You and Donnie take East, Raph and I will cover the usual route and then—" 

"No," Mikey interjected. Both Leo and Raph's brows furrowed as they stared at their brother. He motioned toward Donnie, "Me and Donnie can take that, you guys just go on ahead," he smiled. "You know I like checking out the skatepark!" 

"No skating," Leo said. 

"I'll just watch whoever's there, then." He pouted.

Raph snorted. "Yeah, make sure he actually pays attention, Donnie." 

"As usual," Donnie sighed, and looked at Leo. 

"Well, what do you think, Don?" 

The decision is up to me? 

Turns out it was his all along, but he wanted to feign innocence in saying that Mikey was the one to drag him through it. Easier to not take responsibility and let life happen at you rather than making a conscious effort, at times. 

"I guess we can do that," Donnie answered reluctantly. He could have said no. Why didn't he? In the corner of his eye, he saw Mikey beam, giving him a discreet thumbs up. 

"Alright, meet back here by four AM, and if either of you run into big trouble, call. We'll come," Leo said. "Same for us."

"Yeah, we'll holler for ya," added Raph dismissively. "And nah, a big dog doesn't count as trouble, Mikey." He sounded gruff, but in actuality, he was still chuckling to himself over that years later. After they got over being annoyed that he had called them from that far while they were on a supply run. Chased by a junkyard dog—some of their least favorite parts about visiting those places. 

"Hey, it was mean! And way fast!" Mikey protested as they parted ways, them taking to the East and red and blue the opposite way. 

As per course, Donnie and Mikey took their normal route, and his heart skipped a beat when they met the scene of their last run-in with criminals. Not because of them, no, but because of the familiar apartment building that was now more intimidating than he'd expected. They circled the area like they normally would have, but Mikey came to stop them on a roof just opposite of the complex, eyes searching each window. Obscured by the height of the building, he sat on the edge. 

Donnie didn't know what to do with himself. He stood back a good ten feet, somehow paranoid of being spotted even though he knew it was not possible from their angle in the complex. Mikey was comfortable, and weirdly at peace as he sat there quietly on the edge, assumed to be waiting for his brother to make a move. But Donnie was stuck in place. 

"What are you waiting for, D?" 

The sudden question broke him from his stillness. It was true; he didn't know what he was waiting for. 

"I—I don't know what you want me to do, what are you thinking?" Donnie asked in return, stepping back a little further as he noticed movement behind the curtains of a lit window. 

"Get your phone out and talk to her," Mikey told him, waving his hand at the apartments. "What did we come out here for if you aren't gonna make it right, bro? Do some smooth talk, tell her you're sorry and you wanna get to know her better…"

"This is absolutely a ridiculous plan," Donnie said, though as if his hands had thought of their own, they reached for his phone, and a moment later he was looking at the messages. Still nothing. Radio silence on both of their ends. How would he approach it? "I'm sorry I went from hot to cold so fast. Please talk to me again." Too strong. "Sorry, can we get a redo?" Too casual. "I'd like to apologise for being a jerk." Okay, that's just not good. Reconciling was going to be as difficult as he'd thought it would be. 

Mikey came over and looked at his phone screen and his brother floundering, thumbs stuttering across the keyboard, deleting the text, retyping it over and over again for perfection where he wasn't going to find any–

"I got this, let Love Doctor Mikey handle it," he said, taking the phone right from Donnie's hand. 

"You've never been in a relationship, not even talked to anyone, how would you—" 

Mikey shushed him. Donnie was going to snatch the phone away but he spun around, draping himself over his shoulder.  "Just let me work my magic, dude!"  

Donnie couldn't watch; he had to turn away. How sure he was that Mikey was going to say something uncalled for, something weird or bone-headed, and the wait was killing him. What if she didn't even respond? Was that better than doing damage control for Mikey's shenanigans? For someone usually decisive, he could not for the life of him make up his mind about what he wanted at that very instance. 

The phone vibrated. 

Mikey cheered. "Got her on the line, now you just gotta reel 'em in," he grinned, handing the phone back to Donnie. 

"Hey :/

I thought you wanted to stop?"

Mikey kept trying to lean over to catch a glimpse of the screen, but Donnie felt that it was a personal moment, so without skipping a beat, he activated the electric current in his staff and poked it behind him into his brother's plastron. 

"Fine," Mikey whined. He stepped in one last time, "But don't hold out on me here!" 

Trying to find an graceful way to patch this all up, Donnie replied: 

"I apologise for that, and I know you probably want an explanation, but it's hard to explain

Moment of weakness? 

I guess... 

Anyway. I'm not expecting you to suddenly be cool with it, if you don't want to talk to me I understand 

Sorry."

Mikey noticed Donnie's dismal expression and he mellowed out accordingly, standing close but not putting a hand on him, nor saying anything. He didn't watch the phone, but Donnie's face and slumped shoulders. He'd thought it would have been going better by now. 

"I won't lie, I'm still confused 

But if you're going through something, I'm right here for you

Don't worry about it. Just don't give me a spook like that again, I thought it was me  

lol 

Okay it's not funny but this is a little awkward" 

Donnie's heart sank reading that. He'd made her feel bad, even question herself over his problem. Never had he wanted to make her think it was her that drove him off. 

"No, no, it was never you 

Again, I can't really explain…

Is it okay if we just try this again? 

I understand if not."

"Jeez Bo, I already said it's alright 

I WANT to keep talking to you, you're cool

So let's forget about it, yeah? 

Friends again :) "

And like that, his heart took a leap. A smile slowly spread across his face, and without looking away from the screen, grabbed Mikey by the shell, pulling him toward. "Look at this!" he exclaimed. 

"You see it too?" he quirked, pointing at the apartment complex across the road. 

Donnie paused and looked over his shoulder at him, "What?" 

On one of the balconies sat a lone girl, on her phone, and if Mikey looked hard enough, he could see a smile. Definitely a smile. 

"Ah!" yelped Donnie quietly. He scurried back against the wall of the attached building behind him, as far as he could. 

"Dude! Come on, this is perfect!" Mikey nudged him, and when he didn't hop up onto his feet, dragged his brother near the edge of the roof. Donnie was boneless but unwilling, his mind stuck on the fact that she thought he was cool. Him, cool. Was he? She didn't know even the half of it. She didn't know he was a martial artist, technically a genius, and that he'd gone against some of the worst the city had to offer. And without that, she still thought he was cool, as an average guy. 

As average as what my circumstances will allow me to be. 

Feet dragging all the way, Donnie's stomach did a flip as they met the ledge, peering carefully over it in a crouch. They were prone, watching the girl who was completely unaware of their presence. He was, simply put, enraptured, for a second there, studying her features as much as he could from where they were. The details of her face were not distinct due to the distance, but he could tell she was both nothing like he'd imagined and so much more. For once, he didn't immediately question the validity of the situation; there was no "it could be a coincidence", or "it's too unlikely that she would be out just as they were". Not right away. But it hit him when Mikey spoke. 

"You're so lucky, D," he said wistfully. "Really." Head rested on his forearm, his gaze fell on not one thing, but the whole scene, a somber smile gracing him. He was excited, happy for his brother. But deep down, Donnie knew that though Mikey wasn't envious of him in a resentful way, it had to have stung to witness such a thing unfold for someone not himself. Their youngest had always craved connection the most. He looked away from the girl, "I wasn't gonna let you throw away an awesome chance, was I?"

Releasing a heavy breath, Donnie crawled away from the edge, but his eyes remained on that balcony. It was weird to watch someone who didn't know they were being watched. Not in that context. 

"I...guess I may be," Donnie responded. But it would only get more complicated from there. His phone vibrated, breaking his trance, and the message he found read:

"Anyways, with that out of the way, what are you doing?"

Just watching you from a roof, nothing much, Donnie thought. 

"Currently out enjoying the night" 

"Isn't it kinda cold?" 

"What about you?" 

He knew what he meant, because he was there watching her as a chilled breeze rolled through, but she told him she wasn't doing anything. Only relaxing and talking to him. 

It took him a few minutes to get his bearings. To know that he now had tangible evidence that she was a girl, an ordinary person, and that said person really thought he was cool. Worth the effort. He felt exceedingly difficult for not being able to give her a rightful explanation, but comforted by the fact that he wasn't being demanded of one. He felt light. Almost weightless, with Mikey next to him instead of his other cynical, skeptical brothers. For a moment, he had nothing to worry about. 

From across the roof, he could still see the yawn escape her mouth. Probably an indicator that it was time to wrap things up. He didn't want her to stay up too late; it was already odd that she was up at such an hour, almost two AM, but glad nonetheless. 

"Are you tired?"

"Yeah

I think I'm gonna hit the hay

So goodnight, Bo

Talk to you later (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞" 

She got up, leaning on the railing which faced them. 

"I want to stay up with you but—"

Donnie sucked in a sharp breath as she looked up, just barely able to see from underneath the balcony above her. He snagged the strap on Mikey's shell and yanked him back with him away from the edge of the roof, taking cover behind the wall. 

"Shit," hissed Donnie, "do you think she saw us?" 

These shells, they make us look so big! 

"Relax, bro, even if she did, it was only a little bit. Besides, we could be anyone from this far, they don't have pigeon vision." 

"You mean 'eagle vision'?" 

"They're both birds!"

Donnie deadpanned and peeked over the wall. She'd gone in. Three minutes later, he hadn't gotten any texts yet about something weird on the rooftops, so he could finally relax, groaning lightly. "Too close," he breathed out, "Mikey, we need to go, Leo's going to notice we're not back in time if we don't hurry up and get the rest of this route done."

"Already on it," he whooped, vaulting onto the next roof.

As Donnie was scaling the wall of the attached building, he felt his phone vibrate, and curious, he checked it one last time before getting on his way.

"One question before I go

You ever see stuff you can't explain but even if you did you'd sound crazy?"

Oh, no.

"No, I don't."

Chapter 6

[enigmainvestigations]

**The events of this mini-episode take place after the events in Season 1, episode 12. AO3 post: ???    Series link: ???

Season 1 Mini-Episode - The Most Dangerous Enemy

The bats above him screeched as he exited the Batmobile. The engine’s rumbling always agitated them, but by the time he’d climbed the steps up to the large computer tucked into one of the cave crevices, the bats had started to quiet down. Batman entered his personal code on the keyboard and pressed his hand into the handprint identification reader next to it. The computer turned on with a lazy hum, and the area was flooded with the red light emitting from the multiple screens as they flickered on.

After a few agonizing minutes, a message popped up on one of the screens. Batman leaned forward on the computer console and pressed the authorization key to download the file. Oracle had finished her search of the city records -- lightning fast, as usual. After a few more impatient moments, the files popped up on the screen and he typed in the code for the computer to begin analysing the information. He scowled as he saw the results of her investigation; with this amount of data, it was going to take a lengthy amount of time for the interface to complete the search. It seemed he was in for a long night, again.

In the distance he heard a motorcycle approaching, followed by the sound of the south entrance’s door rising out of the water. The bats stirred once more, and by the time the bike had pulled up to its platform, they were in full upset. The sound of footsteps filled the cave behind him, followed by a drawn-out yawn from his partner. Then Robin appeared beside him, and the teenager’s attention immediately fell on the screen before him, scanning the information.

“Wow. That was fast.” Robin said.

“She’s good at what she does.” Batman responded, continuing to watch the slow progress of the analysis.

“Good? I thought you said she’s the best?”

“She is.”

Robin smirked. “Any more information on Two-Face?”

“He went off the grid again.”

“We really need to figure out how he’s doing that.” Robin said, stretching.

“He’s avoiding any of his previous connections. It just makes it more difficult to follow him, but not impossible.”

“I don’t blame him, but he’s not just avoiding his friends. He keeps vanishing. He’s figured out some way to disappear right under our noses.”

“As long as we get to his next target before he does he won’t have time to vanish.”

“If you say so.” Robin rested his staff against the side of the computer. “Has he let anything slip about why he’s targeting the locations?”

“No. But the computer will find the connection.”

“You still think he’s doing all of this because he was locked up during the attacks?”

Batman didn’t look at his partner, but the muscles in his neck clenched. “Yes.”

“All of this chaos, just because he feels emasculated,” Robin said in a huff.

“It’s more complicated than that, Robin.”

“Doesn’t sound like it is.”

At that, Batman decided to drop the conversation. Robin was right: it was a childish and emotional reaction, but those are some of the most dangerous ones. And with all the damage he was causing, it sounded wrong to trivialize Dent’s motives, and the subject had started to make him uncomfortable. Robin took the hint and wandered off for a time, eventually returning with a large glass of water -- which he downed half of right away.

Batman eyed him briefly, then resumed his impatient glare at the screens. “You’re back early again.” Robin grumbled in response and finished the rest of his water. Batman decided to continue with his assumptions. “Nigma kicked you out again, didn’t he.”

“Actually, no. I had a normal departure this evening.”

“Why did you call Batgirl to his apartment?”

Robin paused. “We’ll have to talk about that in a minute. I’m currently waiting for an update from her.”

“I thought you were calling for back-up.”

“No, no, it’s not that. Nigma hasn’t escalated to throwing fists or anything foolish like that. He was… actually pretty decent tonight. Bizarre, but decent.”

Batman watched as the computer began segmenting some of the data to one of the other screens, and he leaned forward to give it a brief read. “Bizarre?”

“Yeah. I’ll explain it all to you in a minute.” Noticing Batman’s brief look of impatience, Robin said, “I’m just testing a theory. I’d like to have that answered before I delve into all of this.”

“After what happened the last time, I’m surprised you went back.” Batman admitted.

Robin ruffled his wind-beaten hair. “Not going to lie, that thought did enter my mind. But, hopefully, a dramatic scene like that won’t happen again.”

“Why is that?” Batman asked, reading over more of the segments the computer found in the documents. It looked like his theory that Dent was targeting his previous associates was holding true, and if it was, it shouldn’t be too difficult to predict his next hit.

“I set up some boundaries with him.” Robin said in another yawn.

Batman paused. He pushed himself off of the computer console and stared directly at his partner. Robin looked startled by the attention, confusion clear on his face. “What?” he asked, but Batman just continued with his unnerving stare.

“What?” Robin asked again. “You're looking at me like I said something stupid.”

“You… set up boundaries, with Nigma?” Batman tried to clarify.

“Yes.”

Batman frowned. “What kind of boundaries? Personal boundaries?”

“Yes.” Robin drew out the word as he said it, and Batman returned to his silent stare. His partner let out a huff in confusion, “Why, what? Stop looking at me like that, you're freaking me out.”

“What were these boundaries?”

“Just -- normal human boundaries.” Robin could tell that answer just upset his partner more and elaborated. “I told him to stop taking out his frustrations on me. That I wasn’t going to put up with that anymore. I explained it in a way I think he understood, that it was stalling the investigation and it’s a complete waste of time. He seemed to understand.”

“And Nigma agreed to adhere to your boundaries?”

“Yeah.” Robin answered, and as Batman returned to staring, the boy hissed. “Stop looking at me like that, you're making me think I made some sort of mistake.”

“No, Robin. That's not it -- it's... continue.”

Robin gave an animated shrug. “There isn't much else to add.”

Batman’s frown deepened. “You're telling me, you set up an expectation to be treated fairly by Nigma and he agreed to your terms? And that was it?”

Robin made a slight grimace. “Well, that sounds nicer than what actually happened. He was still a huge jerk about it.”

“What did he say?”

“He made the insinuation that I was expecting him to cater to my every whim, y’know, instead of just treating me like a person. I asked him to stop being so dramatic about it, and -- he did look angry about that -- but, he agreed, and then he wanted to change the subject. That’s about it.”

Batman began the stare again, but his partner hurried to set down his empty glass as Batgirl’s voice came through on their earpieces saying: “B2 to R.”

“Go ahead, Steph.” Robin replied.

“Well, he didn’t stay inside.” Batgirl reported, triggering a grunt from Robin as she spoke. “But all he did was go down to the bar next door. Then he went back inside his office. But, now we have another problem.”

“Great, what now?” Robin asked.

“Harley showed up. She went up to his place, but they’re not screaming at each other like last time. And,” Batgirl stressed that word, “there’s a car parked across from his building now.”

Batman looked at Robin, who gritted his teeth. “Great. Are they just watching him? They’re probably looking out for you, so stay out of sight.”

“No worries there, Boy Wonder. They haven’t seen me, and they look kinda spooked. I think they’d be more scared to see me up here, think they’d just run off.”

“Don’t chance it.” Robin said, and Batgirl sighed.

“Stop pestering me, I’m not so green anymore.”

“Stay out of sight, Batgirl.” Batman cut in, and the two adolescents went quiet.

“Will do. I’ll keep you posted on any developments.” Batgirl responded, before the line went silent once more.

Batman turned to face Robin, now giving him his full attention, only barely registering the computer’s blips as it continued its analysis.

“Bizarre.” Batman said.

Robin blinked. “What?”

“You said he was acting bizarre.”

“Oh.” Robin gave a brief nod. “Yeah, but, like I said, I kind of get why.” His partner took a deep breath and leaned against the computer stand, signaling this was going to be a long discussion. “Remember how Nigma went nuts on me the last time?” Seeing Batman’s confirming nod, he continued. “Apparently I was right. He was scared, and really rattled. Echo and Query are back in town.”

“I heard.”

Robin frowned at that. “Well, did you know that they’re working for Penguin?”

Batman’s white eyes narrowed into thin slits upon hearing that information. “No.”

“Yeah. And, he’s posted them outside of Nigma’s place.” The two of them exchanged a serious look before Robin spoke again. “Nigma told me that Penguin has been threatening him. Not verbally, as far as I can tell, but he’s been showing signs of it. He’s had men following him around the city, watching his every move. So, I don’t know what the hell that meeting at the Iceberg Lounge was all about, but it’s starting to look like the others are turning on him, Batman. I think we might be wrong, I don’t think they’re working together.” Robin crossed his arms, giving Batman a firm look. “He was scared, Bruce. That night, he looked terrified. I’m starting to think that if all of this ‘private investigator’ stuff is some Riddler plan, the others aren’t in on it.”

Batman slowly let out a breath through his nose. “If Oswald is targeting him then that means he knows something Oswald doesn’t want spoken about.” Batman’s gaze wandered around the cave as he thought. “Has Penguin tried to take him out, or is he just threatening?”

“Well…” Robin began, but then he paused for a moment. “This is when things get bizarre.”

Batman gave his partner an expectant look. “Go on.”

“Nigma kinda had a meltdown, at least, that’s the best way I can describe it. He let some of that wall of his drop, and he told me a lot of things that I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have under any normal circumstances.” Seeing the immediate attention Batman gave him, Robin smirked. “He said that Penguin keeps tightening the grip, so to speak. That he keeps turning up the heat but not acting on the threats. Which Nigma determined means that he doesn’t actually want Nigma dead, he’s trying to intimidate him.”

“Why?”

“He said he doesn’t know why, and I think I believe him about that. He was -- Bruce, he was completely out of his mind trying to figure it out. You should’ve seen him, talking a thousand miles a hour, talking with his hands and rambling.”

Batman pondered that information for a moment. “I can see how you’d think he was being honest. Edward has always preferred to have all the answers, that’s most likely part of Oswald’s plan.”

“Exactly.” Robin went silent, thinking over what else he needed to say. When he spoke again, he himself sounded rather bemused. “There’s another thing, well, two other things. I’m sure you’re still wondering why I called Batgirl, the thing is… Nigma told Query and Echo he’s working with us -- screamed it at them, to be more specific.” Batman’s eyes widened at that information, and Robin could see the apprehension in his expression. “Yeah. So, now the Penguin knows about this little test of yours.”

“Why?” Batman wondered. “Why did he do that?”

“That goes into the other subject, the one that makes me think it's possible he’s being truthful. He told me that he had no idea why he told them, that it just came out and he didn’t have a reason. But, that he knew somewhere in his brain there was a reason.” Seeing the look on Batman’s face, Robin chuckled. “I know the feeling, trust me. That’s really when the meltdown happened. He said that he’s been having a really tough few months, he said something about his mind attacking him all the time. That his doctor told him to be more truthful, to be honest with other people.” Robin pushed himself off of the computer stand and uncrossed his arms. “He said that he’s tried it in the past and he does feel better, so that was the solution he jumped to when he was put in such a tough spot. At least, that’s what I got from all of that rambling.”

Batman remained silent for a time, finding it difficult to believe most of that information, but his partner was right, it made sense. “He’s listening to his doctor.”

“He’s talking to his doctor.”

Batman turned away from Robin, and his gaze wandered over the cave again. He watched the water drops from the stalactites above drip onto the platform before him, listened to the humming of the computer, as he processed this new information against his theories. “This doesn’t make sense,” he muttered.

“Unless he’s actually trying to get help with something. He didn’t explain it very well, but I think he’s having flashbacks. At least, that’s what it sounded like -- kind of.”

“Nigma would know what flashbacks are.”

“True, but it is Nigma. He thinks everything he experiences is unique and one of a kind. He might not be able to see it for what it is.”

“No. I’m not buying that.” Batman’s frown deepened again. “He said his mind is attacking him?”

“Yep.”

“He used those exact words?”

“He said: My brain is usually my best friend, but now it's attacking me non-stop.” Robin let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not saying I believe everything he said, but, if this was an attempt to manipulate me, it was a very poorly orchestrated one. Most of what he said didn’t make sense,” he paused for a moment, “but, it sounded like he wasn’t talking to me.”

“He was talking to himself, just through you.” Batman added, and Robin nodded.

“Which is exactly what you said he does to you all the time. That’s why I believe it, I don’t think he was trying to convince me, he was trying to figure it out for himself.”

Batman went silent again, his gaze wandering off to look at nothing in particular. “Or he could just want you to come to that conclusion. He’s got to be up to something.”

“Well, when you figure out what it is let me know, because I can’t figure it out.” Robin was about to walk away from him, but a swift look from his partner stalled him.

“You’ve seen nothing? Heard nothing out of the ordinary while in his apartment?”

“No. I’ve told you everything, every single thing from every time I’ve seen him.”

“He has to be hiding the evidence.” Batman said, and his gaze wandered off once again.

“If he is, he’s doing a damn good job of it. That office is so small and pretty bare, and I told you, I haven’t seen any evidence that he’s hiding things in the walls or the floor. He also doesn’t really go anywhere, so I find it hard to believe he’s concocting this whole plan of his at another location.”

Batman looked back at his partner, a scowl forming on his face. “Nigma is very good at making things look a certain way to throw you off the trail. He’s good at hiding in plain sight, at using your preconceptions against you.”

Robin stared at Batman, pressing his lips together as he thought. “I get that, I do. I’m not saying I don’t think he’s planning something. All I’m saying is that I think it’s a possibility that we were wrong. All that means is that we need to start looking at it differently, maybe from a perspective we haven’t before.” He paused, taking a few deep breaths through his nose. “Bruce, he can be trying to work through something with his doctor, and planning something at the same time. It’s possible. We have no idea what happened to him on that island. He might just need some help dealing with it.”

“The idea of Nigma going to anyone for help --” Batman stopped himself; the words he was about to say felt wrong, and he forced himself to rethink his position. “Nigma thinks he has all the answers. He doesn’t feel the need to go to anyone else because they couldn’t tell him anything he doesn’t already know. That’s how he sees the world.”

“I know, that’s what you’ve always said. But, again, maybe it’s possible things have changed for him, and he’s run out of options to work on them, at least on his own?” Robin pondered out loud.

Batman’s scowl intensified. Robin wasn’t understanding the full scope of this; he needed to explain the gravity of this troubling situation. “Him going to someone for help is potentially very dangerous.”

Robin blinked. “Uh, okay? Explain that one, please.”

Batman’s back straightened, his expression turning more serious as he chose his words carefully. “If Nigma has decided to turn to a professional for help, it could mean he’s become more self-aware. It means that he’s learning, and Nigma learning new information is never a safe prospect.” Batman glanced back at the computer screen; the search of the last few files were almost complete. “I might’ve been wrong. He might have changed his tactics.”

Robin stepped closer to his side, and Batman could feel the anxiousness seeping off of him. “Mind explaining that a bit better?”

Batman returned his attention to his partner -- the boy’s expression was one of concern, but mixed with a layer of distrust. He understood why. He must sound too pessimistic in his worries, but this was a situation he’d feared would occur for a long time now, and he needed Robin to understand his reasoning. Batman looked Robin in the eye, hoping for his partner to grasp the truth behind his words. “If Nigma is breaking down his own walls and learning what his weaknesses are, it’ll make him very difficult to stop. I’ve always used the same strategy with him: exploit his vulnerabilities. No matter how much he tried to adapt to my solutions, he could never fully match up with them -- because the issue wasn’t me, it was him. He was so self-centered, so convinced he was superior that he couldn’t see the obvious holes in his logic. If he’s realized that he does have weaknesses, that his own issues are what’s been holding him back all this time, and he’s actively trying to rid himself of them --”

“Then…” Robin interjected, his expression more concerned now. “Are you saying you don’t think you’d be able to stop him?”

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

The two crime-fighters stared at each other. Robin looked surprised by the admission, but his demeanor shifted after a few moments. Batman frowned, knowing that look all too well. The boy thought he was being too dramatic and he was skeptical of the rationale.

The computer blipped beside them. It had finished its analysis, and Batman turned his attention back to the screens. Three locations popped up, one of which was a clear possibility for Dent’s next attack. Robin picked his staff back up, giving Batman an expectant look, and Batman gave him a confirming nod in agreement. As the two began to descend the stairs to the Batmobile, Batman felt an anxiousness seep into his bones. The fear of what Nigma was up to gripped him, and he hoped he would be able to rid it to focus on the current case at hand.

Robin hopped into the passenger seat, the skepticism still clear on his face. He turned on some of the trackers on the car’s console and said, “I don’t know. I know you know him better than I do, but, all of that seems way too calculated for what he’s currently doing.”

Batman climbed into the car, a low growl of disagreement escaping his lips.

“I’m serious, Batman. If he was using his doctor to make him into some unbeatable super-criminal, I doubt he’d be starving and killing his brain with alcohol.”

Batman frowned as the car’s engine revved and the bats began to shriek. “I’ll admit, I can't explain the drinking.”

Robin looked at him, his brow rising. “Really. In all your years working with criminals you've never seen someone deal with problems by hiding at the bottom of a bottle? And it'd make sense, actually, if what he's saying about the flashbacks is true…”

But Batman really didn’t want to hear anymore of Robin’s theories about the evidence. He closed the hood of the Batmobile, revved the engine to signify the end of the discussion, and as his partner readied himself in his seat, he sped off toward the cave exit. As they neared the hidden passage door, Batman decided he was more than willing to see whatever distractions Two-Face could provide for the evening. Hopefully it would be enough to get his mind off of that disturbing hint of a notion that maybe, just maybe, Robin was actually onto something.

[apparitionism]

Run 7b

Newsflash (not really): I underestimated the “few more passes” this second half of part 7 needed. However, in what I hope is better news, here’s a continuation of this story about deceit and Deceits. The situation as it stands: Myka is in possession of information conveyed to her by Giselle—information that Myka doesn’t know came from Helena. Myka now has to figure out the utility of that information. In essence, she has to solve a puzzle. But can she also save the day? Can she save everyone’s day at once, given the variety of interests in play? It’s a sticky situation, as described in part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, and part 7a.

P.S. To the anon who asked if I’m on AO3: yes. I’m apparitionism there, too. My process, incidentally, is to post works in progress here, then move completed pieces to AO3 as I work through editing them into a “final” form I can live with.

Run 7b

Ingenumedix, Myka typed into the search box. She was at her tiny desk in her tiny home office—sized, she realized now, appropriately like her internship closet—working on her personal laptop. A similarly tiny desk lamp provided a puddle of light, just enough to illuminate the pad of paper next to the keyboard.

She’d refrained from diving into this research at work, after lunch. Given that Giselle hadn’t been willing to say exactly where she got the information, it was most likely sensitive somehow, and given that Giselle was trusting Myka, Myka should try to keep that trust. So: nothing traceable through work, take notes on paper, clear everything she could when she was through.

Playing at being some kind of corporate spy, probably incompetently... but she had to acknowledge that having something to focus on at last, to take steps toward, was liberating. She didn’t have to think about Helena—or rather, she had to think about Helena only as an adversary in the present, not as the betrayer of the past. Do your job, she told herself. Best this enemy.

She worked well into the night, searching and running down information about Ingenumedix’s founding and funding, its research and its promise. Most of it was frustratingly vague; her notes featured more question marks than verified facts. Some articles cited experts, tech and otherwise—even, once, a Zelus official. Myka seized on that as her deniability: “I was looking for anything I could find about Zelus,” she could say, “and I ran across this, which made me wonder.” She wouldn’t need to bring Giselle into it at all.

The quoted sources offered cautious praise for the company’s potential for nebulous “innovation,” yet the majority spoke additionally in caveatese of how early it was in the start-up’s life cycle, how predicting the future was a fool’s game, how hopes might not be realized. Playing down the company’s prospects, no doubt hoping to lower expectations and pounce on a devalued deal.

The next morning at work, Myka took to the telephone; if she really was swimming in sensitive information, an email trail was inadvisable. She headed into a conference room, saying “Can’t talk,” to Pete as she rushed by. He would pout about her not choosing to start the day by drinking her coffee at him while he ate his second breakfast of the morning, but that was apparently the price she would have to pay for engaging in industrial espionage.

She closed the door and started making calls. She used her personal cell phone. She soon realized, however, that if she wanted to get any real information from anyone—Ingenumedix employees or otherwise—she was going to have to either lie about who she was or use who she was. And since she had no time to come up with a convincing lie... and since she had never been able to lie convincingly anyway...

Evidently, the real price she would have to pay for engaging in industrial espionage was having to face the fact that she was in no way cut out for industrial espionage. Another potential price would be having to take the fall for any negative consequences. “She went rogue,” she could hear Pete—or even, horrifyingly, Dan Badger—saying. And “yes I did,” she would have to agree, even if she couldn’t say out loud “because I wanted to best Helena Wells. To win.”

So in the interest of winning, she began using her AAI position and title; further, she began dropping athletes’ names and using their positions and titles; and eventually, after several conversations, up up up several chains, she reached Ingenumedix’s CEO: one Joshua Donovan, who, she knew from her previous night’s work, did the public talking on behalf of the company. The extremely limited public talking.

He sounded harried, hounded. “You’re from a government organization? Is this something about regulation? I thought we didn’t have to worry about any of that yet, not for the serious devices. They’re nowhere near market.”

The serious devices? Myka set that aside for the moment. “Not government. Governing. Over athletic competition. If you’re planning to improve athletes’ performance—make them run faster, jump higher—then we’d regulate it. Well. Try to.” She couldn’t hold back a self-conscious chuckle. Maybe it would disarm him?

“Would information do that? From their bodies via their clothes, and then on from there? If so, then yeah. But I’m thinking no. So why do you care?” His implied Why are you bothering me indicated that he was not at all disarmed.

Myka said, truthfully, “I’ve been reading a lot about your funding—that initial round, the second round, the push now for results—but not a lot of detail about what you’re actually doing. I know you work on that via-their-clothes tech, but I think I need to know more.”

She heard him inhale, expected him to speak, but the pause lengthened. Continued to lengthen. Then he said, “That didn’t tell me why. Are you going to be some source for a story?”

Definitely not disarmed. Myka answered with a firm, honest, “No.”

“Some spy for somebody who wants to buy us?”

“No,” she said again. “But I do want to know why Zelus is so interested in buying you. And why they haven’t been able to yet,” she added, because that was the real mystery. What Zelus wanted, Zelus got, yet nothing in her research explained why they hadn’t got Ingenumedix.

“Oh.” A differently long pause ensued, and Myka waited through it... was she finally going to get an answer? “You want to talk to my sister, Claudia.”

Not exactly what she’d hoped for. “I do?”

“She’s the brains,” he said. “Also the attitude. I’ll transfer you.”

Myka began, “But I—” Too late. She looked down at her notes in consternation. Her research hadn’t touched his sister; now she was at sea.

At sea, as the conversation began, with someone who was just as suspicious of Myka’s motives as her brother—and he had not been kidding about the attitude. At Myka’s first mention of Zelus, Claudia Donovan expressed... irritation. That was the polite word. Myka allowed as how Zelus was making her own job more difficult, and at that, Claudia’s irritation morphed into angry enthusiasm. “So you hate them,” she said, as if there could be no other position. “Awesome. Me too. Thinking they can land on us with all the money in the world like we’re some conveniently located helipad and shut down what I’m trying to make here.”

“But I thought they wanted what you’re trying to make.”

“Only if you can put it in a T-shirt or a pair of socks and sell it. But the wearable tech is just a subset of the bigger idea: portable tech. Do you know that? I hope somebody knows that, and maybe even cares, because the Zelus blob sure doesn’t.”

Myka let herself enjoy “Zelus blob,” even as she understood now why Claudia’s older brother—well, older-sounding brother—did all the talking. “Why not just start another company to make whatever Zelus doesn’t want?” she asked.

“Are you dim?” Claudia demanded. Myka was inclined to confirm that yes, yes she was dim, but fortunately Claudia went on, “Because they won’t quit till they buy the rights to everything. They think I’m as low as they are, that I’ll try to shimmy some big-deal patent past them. So they buy it all, then shut down whatever they don’t see some billion-dollar sports use for.”

“Can you make that a condition of the deal? That they not shut anything down?”

“Sure. And then they’ll go ahead and do it anyway, because who’s gonna stop them? Me? How much lawyer-money do you think I have?”

“A lot, if you let them buy you,” Myka pointed out.

“Not enough. Are you sure we’re talking about the same Zelus?”

“Or,” Myka barreled on, trying to probe for where there might be strength Claudia hadn’t considered, “maybe you could go public with what you want? Put pressure on them that way?”

“Same answer. I can shout pretty loud for my size, but when it comes to media blanketing, who wins? Little shouty or big-money mountain?”

“What’s most important to you here?” Myka asked.

“All of it!” The aggrieved exclamation suggested that Myka was once again being dim. “Why would I be bothering otherwise? I want to make important stuff!”

“Okay,” Myka said, as a placeholder, thinking on irritation and ambition, utility, deals. She needed something to work with. Maybe she could identify another buyer for Ingenumedix, if she knew enough about what Claudia wanted to do? She had no expertise in any of this, but... winning. Winning might just mean showing Zelus—showing Helena—that everything wasn’t theirs for the taking. “Tell me about as much of the important stuff as you can.”

“How much time have you got?”

“As much as it takes.”

Claudia Donovan started talking. She said many, many things that Myka wrote down to look up later, but when she said “MRI,” Myka’s scalp prickled. The serious devices, Joshua had said. Actual medical devices were indeed serious, and indeed subject to regulation. Claudia then modified “MRI” with the word “portable,” and Myka realized the prickle had been a hope that Claudia would in fact apply that magic word. Now the hope-frisson resolved into scissors that cut a precise solution-shape from the information.

“I might have an idea,” Myka said, though “might” was a hedge against what she was sure was an idea.

“Ideas are fantastic,” Claudia said. “Particularly if they help us fend off those Zelus vultures. We’re not dead yet. And by ‘dead,’ I mean ‘desperate enough to take their money.’ Joshua keeps saying we won’t have to, but he’s trying to keep me calm. This R&D is beyond pricey, and money’s not easy, so we could get there. I hate it, but we could get there. Don’t tell.”

Those Zelus vultures.

“I have no interest in giving Zelus any information,” Myka said. “My organization is as much at their mercy as yours is.”

“Not like it’d be a surprise if they got to you. Or anybody. Or everybody. Buying their way out of everything. Cheat now, pay later,” Claudia said, bleak, in contrast to Myka’s new pulse of possibility.

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to mitigate against. It might not work.” She hesitated over what to say next, reluctant to give Claudia false hope. Then again the hope might be real... “What would you say about a deal that not only let you keep the medical-device research, but accelerated it? With Zelus money?”

Claudia snorted in clear disbelief. “I’d say it was a miracle.”

“I’ll be honest: I’m not saying I’m sure I can talk anybody into making it happen.”

“Not sure about your miracle? Less than godlike; kind of a letdown. So what are you saying?”

Myka found herself now wanting not only to win, but also to avoid letting Claudia Donovan down. Wanting to take on the Zelus blob—and, yes, Helena as its representative—and work that miracle. “Hold on. Just a little while longer. That’s what I��m saying.”

She’d watched Helena stride through the elevator lobby that very morning. Hold on, she’d told herself. Just a little while longer. All the levels of this problem were the same.

After her conversation with Claudia, Myka exited the conference room. She went to her desk, sat down. Wished she could breathe a minute, but of course Pete wasn’t about to let that happen. “What’s up?” he asked. “You look all weird. Like you might throw up.”

He wasn’t wrong. Hope was nauseating. “I have this idea,” she ventured, because she would have to start figuring out how to say it. “About the shoes,” she tiptoed, “or, I mean, what to do about them. I don’t want to tell you too much about it, because it might not work, and also because of why I got on the track that led to the idea, because I don’t want to get anybody in trouble.” Even that was too much to have said to him, most likely.

“That’s a lot,” he said, like he’d heard her thought and knew she was right. “Is it a good idea?”

“I think so. Hope so? Honestly, I don’t know.”

He shrugged and said, “Take it to Badge.”

Was it that simple?

It might be, if it was enough leverage, but what if Giselle’s tipster was wrong, despite all Myka had heard from Claudia Donovan? What if she was spinning wisps of cotton candy from nothing at all?

An additional complicating factor: taking it to Dan Badger meant actually talking to him, one-on-one. The problem with that was that Myka had never had a meeting with Badger that wasn’t problematic, primarily because Myka wasn’t one of his pet athletes, but also because every time she looked at him, she saw what she wasn’t—or rather, what she imagined, in some ideal world that was not this one, she would like to become.

“You’re the kind of person who’s always early and makes everyone else feel late,” a law school acquaintance had once told Myka. She’d taken it at the time as a poorly aimed insult, having more to do with one-upmanship than precision and truth. But seeing Dan Badger, experiencing him as a presence, made her rethink, for in him she saw a subtle yet sharp difference: he was the kind of person who was always early and made everyone else wish they’d been early too. Myka felt that difference. She wanted to learn how to be Badger in that difference, but she had despaired of ever making such a leaderly leap.

Badger had done it, she had always assumed, by winning those medals; she would obviously never have the opportunity to accomplish something so definitive—so definitively elevating. But now... maybe making a real contribution to winning out over Zelus would serve her in some minimally similar way.

Badger’s assistant put her on his schedule the minute she said “possible solution” and followed that with “for Deceits.”

The lion’s office was every bit as elegant as he himself was. The gold medals occupied a side table, as if they were a natural feature of the landscape, and Myka would not have been surprised to see the bones of his enemies arranged with the same casual lack of contrivance, as objects toward which he might similarly gesture, an “oh, those” flick of dismissal underlain with threat.

“Myka,” he said in smooth greeting. “So lovely to see you.”

How did he invest conventional words with such professional purpose?

“You have an idea for me?” he asked. Calm. Not eager. He didn’t invite her to sit down, so she tried to stand secure and solid. The concentration that required was immense.

“I...” she started, then coughed, thinking on the bones of his enemies; she lost her focus, fidgeted from foot to foot. “Yes,” she said. “An idea.” She looked down at her hands, wishing she’d brought her notes, then realizing they would have been one more thing she would have had to think about holding, literally holding, still. “Zelus. Is.” She cleared her throat. “Zelus is trying to buy a tech start-up in order to get control of the wearable technology it’s developing.” Deep breath. “But the start-up doesn’t want to be bought.”

She plunged into explaining Ingenumedix, its work, and Claudia Donovan’s fears of that work being shut down. Narrating Claudia’s worries distracted her from her own, calming her; she felt her fluency increasing. Then she said, “The part that matters to us—or should matter to us—is that one of her projects is to make medical scanning devices far more portable, and far more affordable, than the current state of the art.”

“I’m afraid I’m not following,” Badger said, conveying I’m afraid I also fail to see why you are taking up my time.

“We want to ban Deceits. But we don’t know how enforce a ban.” He nodded, as if she were a child reciting the alphabet. “Claudia Donovan wants to make portable MRIs,” Myka then said.

Badger’s brows lowered, and he squinted, nearly imperceptibly, as if he’d caught sight of prey at a great distance. Myka recognized his expression, for she’d spent a great deal of time watching footage of Badger in competition: that was how he looked before races he won—races he seemingly knew he would win. “I see,” he said.

Myka now was the one to nod. “We can measure sole height and they’ll pass every test, and carbon plates won’t show on X-ray. So what are we left with? Cutting the soles open? No athlete wants to let us do that, plus it’s prohibitively time-consuming. So here’s my solution: we say Zelus is banned—completely banned—until portable MRI technology can be provided to examine their shoes at a reasonable cost just prior to competition, on-site.”

“And what is your basis for believing Zelus will accept such a deal?”

“They get the wearables they want, and we would ensure they get them at a discount. They’ve made huge offers that Claudia and her brother have so far resisted. The price drops dramatically if Zelus commits to funding the other work.”

He didn’t visibly react, not even a movement of his face. Myka wanted to mimic him, but instead she shifted, shifted, left foot, right foot, left, right. At last, he said, “This is... creative. I see two gaps, however. I hope you’ll be able to fill them.”

What hadn’t she considered? She tried not to let show how she instantly began scrambling back through everything, but she felt herself blinking fast, too fast; thinking hard; thinking so hard yet finding nothing.

Badger took pity on her. “Gap the first: how can this organization afford to threaten Zelus with an overall ban?”

Myka deflated. “Bluff?” she offered weakly.

“I’ll need something more compelling than that.”

“Bluff,” Myka said, as compellingly as she could.

He sighed. “I suppose I might be able to manufacture a billionaire or two who would be willing to fund meets, at least in the short term, if Zelus refuses to agree to some version of this deal. And of course it might be suggested that other athletic-wear companies would welcome the new opportunities that a Zelus absence might yield... however, that leaves us confronting the second gap.”

Myka’s swings between high and low were recreating, dramatically, the nausea Pete had read on her face. “Second gap,” she echoed.

“Yes. Zelus wants Deceits in competition. They don’t want us to keep them out. And you know as well as I that what Zelus wants, Zelus gets—this promising technology company notwithstanding. The status quo serves them well. Records fall; they reap the benefits.”

What was lower than low? Myka was plumbing the depths: the idea wouldn’t work, because of course Zelus wanted Deceits in competition. They wanted them in competition, and... wait. Helena had said something in the elevator yesterday, something that spoke to this: Competition is one small corner of a very large field. The company wants Deceits everywhere. Was that useful? “I think I know something else,” she said. “I think Zelus cares less about Deceits breaking records than about selling Deceits to the public.”

Badger sat back in his chair, just as predatory in repose. “And that latter becomes at least a bit more difficult if Zelus shoes are disallowed entirely from competition.”

“I think,” Myka said, trying to do the thinking right, “this is where the bluff really matters. Or at least, our being willing to bluff.”

At that, Badger smiled. It wasn’t a comfort. “You mean my being willing to bluff. Unless you’re intending to conduct the negotiations yourself.”

Myka’s stomach fell again, but she spoke honestly. “You don’t want me to do that. I’d try to negotiate no Deceits anywhere ever.”

“I would prefer a more realistic position, yes,” Badger said, still smiling, but now a bit indulgently, and Myka thought, perhaps imagined, definitely hoped, that she heard behind this utterance a backbeat of sympathy for her unrealistic position. Then he said, “This information rings rather true to me. How did you come to pursue it?”

Myka thought she was ready. “I was looking for anything I could find about Zelus,” she said, as she’d planned. “And I ran across Ingenumedix.”

He raised an elegant finger to his lips and tapped gently. “I suspect that is not the story in full.” After saying that—after being right about that, which suggested Myka had in fact not been at all ready (she had never been able to lie convincingly anyway)—he made her wait again. Eventually, he said, “All right. Then perhaps you and I never had this conversation. Stay steady. We’ll see what’s next.”

That rang of an ending; Myka said a quiet “thank you.” She backed away, turned around, tried to leave, but something about the door, the threshold, the relief of escape, all of it made her fumble, her hand slipping, failing to find purchase on the doorknob so she could make her exit.

From behind her, Badger said, “Ah, Myka...?” Had he seen her blundering? Was he about to instruct her in doorknob operations?

She faced him again, resigned.

When he spoke, his voice was soft, his tone casual. “What do you think of Helena Wells? You’ve met her, correct?”

A hot bullet ripped through her, an internal scream rending her viscera, inchoate at first, resolving fast into He knows! Oh god he knows! What do I do now? What do I do? Scrabbling to tamp down the immediate shearing panic, trying to buy time, she repeated the last word he’d said, praying it was a right and useful one: “Correct.”

“Your thoughts?” he asked, still seemingly offhand.

How could he know? Someone had to have told him. Pete? “Hey, Badge, guess who Myka’s ex-girlfriend is!” Worse, Giselle? “You know Helena Wells and I have a history? Well, so do she... and...” dragging, wait-for-it suggestive... “Myka.” Or, by far the worst: Helena herself? “By the way, I once coerced Myka Bering into helping me undermine her then-employer. I’m sure you can imagine how.” With the clear implication being, “Perhaps I’m doing it again.”

“Thoughts,” Badger prompted, but Myka had wasted too much time racing through hypotheticals to formulate a decent answer.

“I...” she began, trying now to buy some of that wasted time back—as if time were the only thing preventing her from knowing what to say. All she could come up with was a weak, “I think she’s probably good at what she does. Or she wouldn’t be here.”

Badger tapped his lips again. “And yet given these things you’ve told me today, perhaps not quite good enough.”

That allowed her space to take a breath, for it suggested he didn’t know... surely, if he did, he would have gone in for some sort of kill, exploiting her helplessness. “It’s not for me to say,” she replied, not certain enough to feel any real relief.

“Rather for you to prove. Stay steady,” he said again, which suggested he thought Myka might otherwise be inclined to... topple? She might be. She had no idea, now, whether he knew.

“Yes,” she said, and “I will,” and yet another “thank you.” She confronted the door again, at last wrestling it open. She looked down to navigate the sill, then looked up to see...

Of course.

Beside the desk of Badger’s assistant stood Helena, her brow marred by a filament-furrow of... some sort of concern. Her eyes widened just a bit when she saw Myka, and Myka jumped to a wonder: had Badger somehow set them up to come face to face like this? For a report on how they interacted? Well, Myka would show him—would show him and Helena both—by providing evidence of absolutely nothing.

She tried now to channel him: to narrow her eyes, to voice an adversary’s name as he would, as if victory would be inevitable, as if whited bones would be the eventual evidence. “Helena,” she said.

Pathetic try. All she’d really done was lower her voice, and all that could do was speak of the past.

“Myka,” Helena responded. The vertical furrow was gone, replaced by delicate horizontal lines: she’d widened her eyes still more, and Myka wished she had some way to signal Don’t react to me.

She did the only thing she could: she turned her head, breaking their gaze, then walked past Helena. She hoped Helena had turned away too.

And yet she felt Helena had not turned away; she felt those dark, acute eyes focused upon her back.

Helena had looked at her back before, looked and looked and looked. “This arch,” Myka remembered her saying, her voice gliding into Myka’s ears from behind, saying it and saying it again: “This arch.”

This arch isn’t yours, not to speak about or in any other way. As she continued out, Myka thrust her shoulder blades up and out, splaying them wide as if they were wings, now hoping that Helena, should she still be looking, would wish such an arch were still hers. If Myka could deprive Helena of at least this one thing she wanted—if she did still want it—then Myka would win. Regardless of the shoes. Wouldn’t she?

Strangely enough, that was Pete’s question to her, later: “So did you win?”

“I have no clue,” she told him, with an internal Well, that certainly covers everything. “Anyway I’m not supposed to talk about it... I feel like a spy, out in the cold. ‘If you get caught, we never heard of you.’”

“I heard of you,” he said.

“I appreciate it. I really do, but it probably won’t help.”

“Hey, you had an idea. Nobody else has.”

“That probably won’t help either,” Myka said, knowing she would continue to fret over what Dan Badger did or didn’t know, over how her hope had turned sour and gap-laden, over how she would most likely in the end be unable to avoid letting everyone down.

****

The next morning, Myka’s run was a study in discomfort, with each foot-strike against the pavement jarring fully through her body, as if she were running in Deceits’ polar opposites: shoes designed for heaviness, limitation, instability. It seemed an omen of how little good the day would bring.

At work, when Pete rolled in, he greeted her with, “Wow, you really did it.”

And here all of it would come, as the hopeless run had foretold: the consequences. Myka braced herself. “What did I do?”

“The deal.” He shook his head at her incomprehension. “You need to get on social media. Badge had some supersecret call with the Zelus CEO late last night, about what I gotta think was your idea. And we got what we wanted.”

How could that be true? “We did? No Deceits?”

“Well... sorta. Not in competition, that’s what we got. And there’s something about new tech we’ll use to verify compliance? But we won’t void the records they already set: that’s what they got. Plus regular people can have ’em, because who cares.”

“I wanted. It’s awful. They’re deceitful.” Because that was the problem. The whole stupid, never-ending problem of what was and wasn’t real.

He flung his neck around, the more dramatic version of an eyeroll, as he said, “Duh. It’s their name.”

“Zelus doesn’t mean it like I do.”

Now Pete pushed his hands toward her, a little patting, calming gesture. “Zelus doesn’t care how anybody means anything as long as the shoes sell. They’d call ’em ham sandwiches.”

“That isn’t trying to trick you twice.”

“Maybe it is though,” he said. “I don’t know what ham really is.”

“What? Ham is... ham. Which is pig.”

“See? We just call stuff things.”

That stopped her. “I think that’s the most profound thing you’ve ever said,” she told him.

“Thanks. I guess. Can you tell me how to say it in Spanish?”

Myka was absurdly grateful for this standardly silly turn in the conversation. “Just learn Spanish.”

“I’m trying. But for real, I suck at it almost as much as I sucked at hurdles.”

Hurdles. No more silliness; she fell hard against the word, against the sudden inexorable concatenation of thoughts, and those thoughts brought her down, one lurching step at a time, destroying her thought-balance, sending her mind sprawling: Hurdles. Helena’s father. Helena. Helena, Helena, Helena. Like rough pavement scraping: Helena, Helena, Helena.

Silence arced between them. For a long while, nothing but that.

As if from a great distance away, Pete said a surprisingly soft, “At least it’s over.”

Myka nodded.

“And that’s what you wanted.” Still from that gentle distance.

“That’s what I wanted,” Myka agreed, but she did so against a destabilizing background rumble of “no no no no no”... and she felt herself again in that night elevator, alone. This is what I’m supposed to want.

Now that it was over, though, she let herself know, for a moment she was not certain she could withstand, that her want was what it had always been: at first to be the focus of Helena’s attention, but then so much more than that. She wanted to exert the power she had had before, to thus claim the privilege of clawing at Helena’s clothes, the prize of pushing and sweating against in her in the night, the peace of speaking soft with her in the quiet not-quite-morning of that night.

Her disastrous run, she understood now, had been figuring for her the drudge of exertion it would take to make herself unknow that prodigious want. She’d done it before, yes, but to have to do it again would be such a greater tilt and push uphill. But she would do it. She would do it.

At least it’s over.

TBC

[idyllicstarker]

here's a Christmas prompt for you ;) how do you feel about Peter telling Tony he won't be home in time for Christmas (maybe he's on a trip? at MIT?) but then showing up on Christmas to surprise Tony

I may have turned the prompt a little, but I hope it’s still close to what you asked for 💖

***

Warnings: none

“I was thinking we could maybe watch Elf, tomorrow - Christmas Eve is for cheesy Christmas films after all.”

Peter’s apprehensive gaze eyed the screen on his laptop, completely illuminated by Tony’s face. It was evident by how timid the question was, he knew his suggestion was a long shot - he didn’t want to make Tony anymore mad then he already seemed, but he also didn’t want the holidays to be a complete bummer because of his own faults.

Tony looked up, presumably from his work bench in the lab, eyes settling on the grainy pixels that made up Peter. He had a blanket wrapped around him, having expressed many times that the heater in the dorm pretty much did nothing at all. Tony could tell he was sad. He could tell he felt guilty at not being able to be there over Christmas. But it didn’t mean Tony felt any better about the whole ordeal.

“You’re really expecting to be able to stream and video chat with me at the same time - with your crappy wifi?”, Tony asked, looking back down to whatever work he was completing.

Peter should be used to the man getting distracted during their evening calls. Most of the time Peter didn’t have his camera on anyway, not when his roommate, Harley, was around. But that didn’t stop the pang of hurt in his chest upon seeing Tony so nonchalant about it.

“Well I don’t think it will be that slow. Harley’s gone back to his family for winter break, and most of the dorm isn’t here either”, he muttered quietly. His revision notebook sat untouched on his lap, nervously rolling his pen between his thumb and index finger.

“You know I never used to like Harley, so I can’t believe I’m saying this but you should be more like him.”

Frustrated tears began to form in Peter’s eyes at Tony’s bluntness. But the man still refused to even look over at the screen.

“You know this isn’t my fault”, Peter whispered, it hurt that Tony was pinning the blame on him. How was he supposed to know the weather was going to stop flights?

“If you’d just gotten the flight when I’d told you too we’d be able to watch Elf together on Christmas Eve, on my couch. But no, you wanted to stay for an extra few days”, Tony hissed. The darkness of the screen made his brown eyes almost black, and Peter flinched at the look of absolute betrayal on the man’s face.

“You know I wanted to go to the party”, he said quietly, shaking his head, “I couldn’t have ever known it was going to snow this much.”

“Yes because a party is much more important than your boyfriend-”

“You’re being selfish…”

“Oh! I’m being selfish Peter? You promised to be here, and you’re not. That’s what’s selfish. You told me not to decorate because you said you wanted to do it with me. There’s not an ounce of Christmas cheer in this place, and now I don’t even want to do it. You know how much I hate the holidays because Maria and Howard were never around. I never had that. I never had a nice Christmasz You promised you were going to be here.. to help me experience that, and what have you done.. you’ve let me down. You told me five minutes ago there was literally no way for you to get back in time with the way it’s snowing, and you’re really expecting me to just be okay. That’s what's selfish.”

He leaned forward quite abruptly, and Peter heard the rough click of his keyboard, before his camera turned off. He was still on the call, but clearly didn’t want to be seen. So what Peter didn’t know was that the man was wiping roughly under his eyes, trying to rid himself of any tears.

Speechless, the younger male looked over the blank screen, his own expression hurt. He knew Tony was right, he’d given a lot of promises he wasn’t able to keep. He sighed, moving to turn his own camera off and therefore giving him the relief to let the tears fall. He sank down into his bed, cuddling the blanket to his chest and burying his cold nose into it.

“I’m sorry”, he muttered, because honestly he didn’t know what else to say.

“Yeah so am I”, Tony’s voice rang out through his speaker, heavy with emotion yet the feedback didn’t quite pick that up distinctly.

Silence followed. A heavy, emotional silence that Peter didn’t know how to fill to get it to stop weighing down on his chest like that. He swallowed thickly, licking at his lips.

There was a sudden fast paced typing, as Peter sniffled before finally Tony spoke again.

“It says the snow’s going to stop on the twenty sixth. There’s no planned flights, but I’ll take the jet instead”, as if predicting Peter’s disagreement with that, he continued: “But only if it’s stopped completely. And If one of my pilots is willing. I don’t want to take them away from their family, a hefty pay rise would be in order…”, by the way he trailed off Peter knew he wasn’t really talking to him anymore.

He sighed out quietly, nodding his head solemnly before realising Tony still couldn’t see him.

“Okay”, he agreed, clearly his throat as he shifted in the bed, pulling his laptop to him and turning on the camera. He waited a few seconds, but Tony didn’t do the same. Nervously he chewed on his lip, and closed his eyes.

“How’s your foot?”, he asked quietly.

A couple of days ago Tony had dropped a hammer on it. He was lucky, it wasn’t broken, but it was swollen. If it wasn’t for that maybe he would have been able to drive down to get Peter. But he couldn’t.

“It’s fine," Tony replied gruffly, “healing..”, he mumbled after a moment. No matter how he was feeling right now, he didn’t want Peter to worry.

“Oh, that’s good.”

It seemed all attempts at initiating conversation again was futile. The guilt he felt was unlike any other. He had promised, and honestly if he knew it was going to end up this way he never would have stayed the extra few days just so he could go to that party and leave when everyone else left. But now flights were cancelled and he was alone. Most people just managed to drive back. He couldn’t.

“I’m sorry for getting snappy with you”, Tony sighed out after a long moment. “I know it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have predicted this. And besides your young - you want that college experience. I don’t blame you for taking it over your old boyfriend…”, he seemed to laugh at the end, but he sounded solemn more than anything. It wasn’t a humoured or a happy laugh, it was quite broken.

“That’s not true Tony”, he tried to justify, clutching his blanket to his chest. “I’d rather be with you then anywhere else. I made a mistake.. a big one”

He half expected Tony to agree but he actually didn’t get a reply. The only indication that he was actually still there was the faint tapping of his keyboard through the speaker.

“I don’t feel too good”, Peter said after a moment, “I think I’m gonna get some sleep. I’ll text you in the morning…?”, he mumbled, the last part more of a question than anything. Even if it was Christmas Eve tomorrow, Tony didn’t look like he was going to forgive him anytime soon.

He was right in thinking such, getting only a low grunt from the man. Peter had to cough to hide his quiet sob.

“Goodnight”, he spoke meekly, voice shaking as he quickly ended the call.

***

If Peter could feel his nose he may have turned around to Ned and laughed about it being a Christmas miracle.

It had taken five hours and driving that most definitely should have been illegal considering they couldn’t see for the most part, but he was here.

Craving comfort after his conversation with Tony last night, he turned to who he knew would never let him down - Ned. He hadn’t asked him to drive down in the middle of the night, to pick him up and take him here, he just did. No amount of panicking from Peter as he realised he’d gotten into his car had stopped him. And now he was here.

The sun was just beginning to rise. Neither of them had slept, but here they were, in front of the tower, in front of his home. Of course, it was still snowing heavily, and as he stepped out of the car, his trainers crunched satisfyingly against the blanket that covered the floor.

“Thanks dude, I don’t know what I’d do without you”, he said softly. His gratitude so strikingly evident in the way his voice softened as they pulled his cases and belongings for his stay from Ned’s trunk.

“Don’t worry about it. It was nice to have the catch up. I’ve missed you”, Ned said, shrugging his shoulders.

Peter didn’t mention the fact that they’d spent half the time screaming whenever they swerved, the tires not quite gripping onto the icy road in a way that comforted Peter enough to not be alert. Instead he simply nodded.

“You should come over, we’ll hang out like old times…”

When all of his stuff was on the pavement, and Peter was beginning to wish he’d put a hat on, he smiled over at his friend. They hugged for a moment, but Ned being tired from driving all night, and Peter eager to go see Tony, let each other go after a moment.

“Thanks man.”

Peter managed to get all of his stuff inside after Ned had left. He decided to let reception send it up, not wanting to haul it all in the elevator and instead just grabbed one small case and bounded over to the lift.

He wiped away at the wetness on his cheeks, and brushed off the snow flakes from his hoodie. He knew Tony would still be asleep, which meant he could go through with his plan easily.

“Friday, don’t alert Tony that I’m back please”, he spoke.

“Yes Mr Parker”, came the reply.

He thanked her quickly, running a hand through his damp hair as let out a deep breath and smiled as the elevator arrived on the floor.

***

“Ho Ho Ho! Good morning handsome”

Peter’s breath was warm against Tony’s cheek. Smelling faintly of chocolate (they’d had a bit of a feast on the way here) and ever so soft and gentle.

Tony blinked his eyes groggily, letting out a disgruntled sound as he lifted his head up to try and make out the sight that was currently hovering over him in the bed.

The small figure of his boyfriend that should definitely not be here, was straddling his torso with the widest grin. His cheeks were still flush from the cold outside, and atop his head was a cute little Santa hat.

“Christmas came early this year”, Peter hummed, shrugging innocently. “Unfortunately Peter Claus didn’t bring you any presents, but he thinks he’s the best gift of all”

Two seconds later and he was being tackled to the bed by a suddenly very much awake Tony. Peter giggled, squirming as Tony’s goatee scratched against his face and neck at all the kisses that were being peppered against his skin.

“How are you here? I thought there were no flights”, he was evidently elated at the sight of his partner.

“Poor old Ned drove all the way over, and then drove me all the way back. We’ve been driving all night. But it’s worth it. I’d rather spend Christmas with you then alone.”

As they both settled down, Peter wound his arms around Tony’s neck, cuddling up to his chest. The Santa hat sat lopsided on his head but he didn’t mind too much, all that mattered was that he was here.

“We’ll have to thank him later”, Tony concluded, pressing a soft kiss to Peter’s lips that the younger male returned eagerly.

“I’m glad you're here. I was worried, but this is the best Christmas gift I could ever get, you’re totally right”, he concluded after a moment of silence whilst they took in the feeling of finally being together again.

Peter nodded his head in agreement, a sleepy smile on his lips as he curled against his warmth.

“Merry Christmas Tony”, he mumbled softly.

“Merry Christmas my love.”

[lets-imagine-fanfics]

War With The Ghost Part 4

Jake Peralta x Criminal!Reader [GN]

[Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3]

Not My GIFs; Picture 1: @tamazo2 | GIF 2: Unkown

Words: 1.2K

[Masterlist] [Send a Request] [Fandoms I write]

A/N: So this has taken a reallly long time to upload but has been sat in my Grammarly drafts for ages, and since I am getting back in to writing I figured imma finish my series. 

After you had made your predictions that Detective Jake Peralta (AKA your boyfrie...your date?...) was investigating you and your crew (also known as 'The Ghost' which is why Jake didn't think you were... well...  you) you decided to risk it for the sake of your crew and investigate Jake Peralta's case.

"Okay, let's make a plan... What do we need to be able to keep tabs on Jake's case, Sniffer?" You asked as you paced the empty apartment of your base.

"Hard to say, I don't know what kind of software he has, different software takes a different hack," Sniffer replied, his voice laced with exhaustion as he rubbed his forehead.

"There could be a case file at his place" You hear Jonesy say in his gruff voice. "If that's the case, you could always just break in, saves us all a job" he added with a smirk.

"Saves everyone getting involved that's for sure" You reply, a playful glare towards Jonesy. "I'll set up a date," You say as you start to walk to one of the bedrooms for your phone call with Jake "whilst I do that... Try and figure out what computers the precinct have and then Sniffer..." You turn back around to look at your team who are all eyes on you. Sniffer nods understanding that you want him to create a bug that you can plant. You head down the hall to the bedroom furthest from the team so you can't be heard on the phone.

You can hear his phone ringing through and then... "Hi, Jake". --- "I have an Instagram picture of one of Jake's work colleagues, Gina, It's a selfie, but her work computer is in the back of the picture, it's just a HP computer, nothin special" Creeps spoke up after going from Jake's Instagram followers and working out who Jake works with off of the last names that Sniffer had managed to find from some of the newspapers. From there, he found Gina's and, well, he hit the jackpot.

"This picture was a year ago; they could have gotten new systems now, a few precincts got new computers a few months ago as a good work initiative, didn't they." Creeps replied.

AJ grabs the phone from Creeps and looks through a few photos of Gina "Okay, so her spirit animal is a wolf, she loves Beyonce, and... believes in psychics... Get me her work number; I have an idea."

Sniffer found the work number, that was the easy part, AJ put her phone on private, dialled in the number and let it ring through.

"Hello, Is this Miss Linetti?" AJ asked through the phone, making sure to put on an accent. 'This is she' Gina replied.

"Oh, good, I'm with HP, and I see on my list that the 99th Precinct should be... due for a... computer software update soon, I am just ringing to check that everything is working well before we go ahead and send the update." 'Yeah... I guess everything is working' Gina again replied.

"Oh, excellent, I'll go ahead and send that email for you just to confirm you want the update... and then it will take a few days to come through, but first I need to take some details just to make sure our information matches your software otherwise the update might make your computer do a system reboot." At this, Sniffer actually facepalmed. 'I don't know those deets'

Sniffer started to write something down before showing AJ "It can be confusing at times but don't worry, there is a straightforward way of seeing... erm..." AJ vigorously shakes her head at Sniffer, saying no, whilst Sniffer nods his head at AJ as he shoves the paper closer to her face. "What does the windows logo look like on the keyboard?" 'Like a flag.' "Like a flag? Okay... and does it have a circle around it or does it look like the end is pixelated like it belongs in 'Avengers: Infinity War'?" AJ asks. 'Circle one?'  Gina finally said as if analysing the logo on her keyboard.

"The circle one" AJ confirms looking at Sniffer who nods eagerly. "Excellent, thank you Ms Linetti, that's the one we have on our systems too.  That's the Windows Vista software, well we have confirmed that and we will continue with the update. Thank you for the help." 'No problem, I guess' Gina replied before hanging up.

"How did you know it was the Windows Vista from just 'flag' and  'circle'?" AJ asked Sniffer who was getting a high five from Creeps at that point.

"Windows logo changed a bit; I would have been screwed if she said neither coz that means it could either be XP or 7 and we would have had no way of telling them apart."

Sniffer sat back down at his computer from being stood; next AJ was he vigorously wrote notes and hints down for her whilst on the phone, as he got done making the bug email for you, you appeared from the bedroom.

"I have a date, It took some time and convincing, but I am picking him up from the precinct, did you find out what computer system they were using or whatever?"

"Creeps found the person to call and AJ rang, she was brilliant on the phone, taught her well. Quick on her feet. Sniffer managed to figure out what computer systems the 99 was using and created the bug email, and I just stood 'ere looking pretty." Jonesy relayed everything that had happened whilst you were in the other room.

"You are amazing at standing there and looking pretty, Jonesy" You say with a smile as Sniffer sends off the bugged email.

"Don't you know it" Jonesy replied with a grin. ------

You were heading to the precinct whilst you were on your phone. "Now remember, we can't help you when you are in there, no earpieces, no calls, you are totally dark in there." Creeps said on the other end of the phone.

"Oh no, 'cause I really wanted you lot listening in on our date" You reply sarcastically.

"Okay, Okay" Sniffer joined the call. "Right, once you reach Jake's computer, add the hard drive and send over the file. It will be visible in your hard drive file but not on the computer - due to the bug we sent to Ms Linetti via email. Once you have sent it over, we can then take a look at anything and everything on Jake's laptop and then whenever he sends an email - with our keywords; the bug will automatically multiply and attach to the emails and docs sent, and then once we are ready, we can erase every single file and email about the Ghosts."

"Very nice touch, Sniffer" You say pleased with his thinking.  "I'll be in touch after everything is done" After that you hang up, knowing that your team no doubt had a dozen comments about what 'Everything' could be.  

When you walked into the 99, you headed into the bullpen when you heard someone speak to you. "Hi, can I help you" A short man wearing a detective's badge asks.

"Yes, actually... I'm looking for Jake Peralta, this is where he works, isn't it?" You ask feigning innocents.  

"Jake... Yeah, he's out at the minute, but his desk is just there if you want to wait" The man replied with a soft tone.

"Perfect, Thank you."

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

Ch1: The Dog Of Thunder

Summary: Frank and Fliss attend their first scan and break the news of their pregnancy to their friends, whilst dealing with a troublesome Dog and a very, very concerned 8-almost-9 year old.

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

This ain’t some routine that I use every Friday, this ain’t a one line, one night kiss and tell…

February 2019

“For the last time Mary, no you can’t come!” Frank exasperatedly groaned as Mary once more asked him the question she’d been pecking his head with since dinner the previous day.

“Why not?”

“Because first off you have school and second off this is a medical appointment for Fliss.” He shook his head. “Not a day out!”

“But you’re going…” “Yeah because it’s my baby!” He looked at her, shaking his head “Why am I even explaining this to you? You’re going to school, end of discussion.”

Mary scowled at him and folder her arms. “That is so unfair.”

“Yeah well, so is life. Get used to it.”

“I only want to see the baby.” Mary said quietly, giving a little sigh. Frank paused, his coffee mug held a few inches from his mouth as he considered her for a second before he smiled softly.

“Me too Stack, I can’t wait.” He took a sip of his drink. “Look, I know you’re excited, we all are but you still can’t come.”

“Can’t come where?” Fliss asked, yawning as she walked into the kitchen, reaching into the cupboard for the waffles.

“The scan.” Frank took the packet off her and slid the plate of already toasted ones over to her. She grinned at him and took a huge bite of one.

“Sorry kiddo, but we’ll make sure we bring you a photo back.” she looked at Mary, before she turned and opened the fridge, pulling out the apple juice. Frank watched as she poured a large glass before she drained it in one. “What?” she frowned, “I’m thirsty”

“You hate apple juice.” Mary’s eyebrows raised a little.

Fliss glanced at Mary, then to the bottle on the side, then the empty glass in her hand “Huh…guess the baby doesn’t.” she mused.

“You feeling ok?” Frank asked, reaching out to curl an arm round her waist and no sooner had his fingers brushed her skin Thor let out a low, rumbling growl. Frank groaned and stared at the dog. “Seriously, pal? Still?”

“I don’t know what’s got into him.” Fliss shook her head, studying the dog as his lip curled back, exposing his sharp, bright white teeth. “I know he’s been protective over me in the past, but not with you.”

“It’s your hormones.” Mary supplied, as both Frank and Fliss turned their heads to her. “I googled it when he growled at Frank last night to see why he’s been doing it for so long and in the first three months you get all these hormones flooding your system and that’s why you get sick and tired because you’re not used to them. Some people say that dogs and pets can also sense it and it can affect them too until they understand it’s normal.” Frank blinked as besides him Fliss gave a chuckle “Mary, you’re a little brainbox.”

“It’s all on the internet.” Mary shrugged. “I was curious. According to one vet site that I looked on it can make female animals think they are pregnant too and the males feel like they have to protect their person.” “Well he needs to quit.” Frank looked at Thor. “Or he’ll be sleeping outside, predicted heavy rainfall or not.” Fliss narrowed her eyes at Frank and he shrugged. “What? Isn’t he supposed to be the God of Thunder, or should that be the Dog of Thunder…”

Mary let out a snort as Fliss glared at him. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Nope, he wouldn’t.” Mary grinned “When Fred was new he used to tell me he was gonna kick him out all the time.” “He shredded the sofa.” Frank looked at her.

“He was a baby.” Mary said, swallowing the last of her toast.

“Whatever. You done?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, go get your stuff I’ll walk you down to the bus stop.”

“I can go on my own…” Mary retorted.

“Did I ask for your opinion?”

“No.”

“Exactly.” Frank looked at her.  “Make sure you get your jacket, it’s a little cold out.”

With a groan Mary pushed off her chair, carried her empty plate to the sink where she placed it inside and shuffled off. Fliss moved to put it in the dishwasher and when she straightened up, Frank looped his arms round her from behind, chin resting on her shoulder.

“Is it wrong that I’m already hoping Bean is a boy?” Frank sighed, his hand gently splaying over Fliss’ stomach, the pair of them ignoring the thunder-like growl coming from the very aptly named dog who was sat eyeing Frank beadily.

Fliss laughed, her hand falling on top of his. “Not quite sure you’ll cope with three girls, huh?”

“I’ll have lost all my hair by the time I’m 40.”

“You know, that’s only like two years away.” Fliss grinned, turning in his arms.

“Err, two years and a month, actually.” He narrowed his eyes at her playfully.

“Details.” She grinned as he placed a soft kiss to her lips, Thor’s growl growing even louder.

“Right, seriously?” He broke away to look at the dog who stared at him, Fliss’ laughter growing louder. The dog’s lip once more curled up in a snarl before he looked at Fliss when she spoke to him sternly.

“Thor, no.”

He stopped immediately, his tail wagging.

“I can’t cope with this for another six months every time I wanna touch you.” Frank wined and Fliss pondered something for a second.

“The Vet is coming to the yard today to do the routine visits. I’ll take him up there his afternoon, see if he has any advice.” She shrugged.

Frank nodded. “Ok.”

At that point Mary came back, her jacket on and her bag over her shoulder. “Ready.”

“Have a good day.” Fliss called as the two of them, headed to the door, Frank picking up his dark blue jacket as he went, Thor ambling behind.

“Oh, so now you’re my friend.” Frank mumbled, and the dog simply wagged his tail in response as Frank looked back at Fliss “It’s like he has a split personality!”

Fliss grinned as Frank shook his head once more and spoke to Thor as they headed out into the chilly morning sun.

“Fickle bastard.”

********* “Good morning!”  Frank and Fliss both looked up as a woman in her mid to late forties swept into the consultation room, smiling at them both. “Miss Gallagher?”

“Yeah.” Fliss nodded.

“Hi I’m Dr Kent.” she smiled, “And you’re Dad I assume?” She turned to Frank.

“Sure am.” Frank smiled at her.

“Nice to meet you Mr…”

“Adler, please, call me Frank.” He smiled, shaking the woman’s hand.

“Ok so, I gather this is your first scan?”

Fliss nodded.

“And your notes say you estimate between 11 to 13 weeks is that correct?”

“Yeah.” Fliss nodded.

“Right, just a few questions and we’ll get on with it. How have you been? Is there anything worrying you?”

“Not really, I mean my morning sickness seems to come in waves.” Fliss shrugged “Some days I’m okay, some days I’m a little off colour for a few hours and then others it’s like full twenty-four hour sickness”

“Are you managing to keep hydrated?”

“Mostly” she nodded.

“Any trouble sleeping?” “No.” Fliss shook her head as Frank snorted.

“It’s keeping her awake that’s the issue.”

Fliss glared at him as the Doctor laughed. “Yes, tiredness is common in the first few months especially but you should feel most of this ease off between 16 to 20 weeks…at which point I hate to say it but you trade it for a whole other set of stuff.” “Great.” Fliss grumbled.

Doctor Kent smiled sympathetically and then clapped her hands together. “Right, you ready to see Baby…oh, is it Gallagher or Adler, or-”

“Adler.” both Frank and Fliss said at the same time. The both looked at one another, neither of them had discussed that at all, and they both gave a gentle as the Doctor nodded, switching on the machine.

“Ok, just lift your top up…yup, just like that and…this is gonna feel cold ok?” she asked, squeezing the gel onto Fliss’ stomach. Grabbing the wand she pressed it onto her belly, moving it around until she stopped and smiled, as the sound of their baby’s heartbeat suddenly hit their ears.

“Here we go.” The Doctor smiled, turning the screen to face them allowing both Frank, and Fliss to see their baby for the first time.

“Oh Frankie, look.” Fliss whispered, her head turned towards the screen as Frank took her hand in his, his gaze completely focussed on the shape. You could clearly make out it was a tiny human. A head, two arms, two legs. Frank felt his eyes mist over instantly as he saw his baby on the screen in front of him, somehow making all this seem so much more real. He could see it! He could hear it!

He looked at Fliss as she turned to face him, a dazed smile spreading across his face as he raised her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the place just underneath where their fingers were joined.

“Everything is perfect.” The Doctor spoke “I can’t see any abnormalities at all. Your baby is absolutely fine and healthy.”

Fliss let out the breath she had been holding and Frank squeezed her hand. They were through the most dangerous part and their baby was fine, it was all going to be perfectly fine.

And he couldn’t be more happy or relived.

“I estimate from this that you’re nearer thirteen weeks than eleven but it’s never exact.”  The Doctor continued. “So I would predict a due date of…” she tapped at the keyboard and smiled at them both “21st August.”

She wiped Fliss’ stomach clean, allowing her to move her top back down before she stood up.

“You have any questions for me?” “Oh, erm…when am I likely to start showing?” Fliss asked. “I mean I’ve been putting on a bit of weight I know that as my jeans are a little tight but I can’t see much of a difference other than the fact it looks like-“

“There is nothing to be concerned about.” The doctor shook her head, smiling. “Everyone is different. Your lifestyle, muscle mass, weight are all contributing factors. Try not to worry about it too much, your baby is growing correctly and you’ll notice soon enough.”

Fliss pouted and Frank had to laugh. He knew what she was grumbling about. She’d complained the other day that her pants wouldn’t fasten and she was stood in front of the mirror moaning that it didn’t even look like a bump merely like she’d eaten a few too many pizzas. When Frank had pointed out she had been eating like a pig in all fairness, mainly chomping through McDonald’s fries, ready-made toasting waffles and apples like they were going out of fashion, she’d thrown a pillow at his head whilst he had run from the room laughing.

“I’ll just get sort you a copy of the photo and some information about the Lamaze classes and everything else and then you can be on your way. Congratulations.” The doctor smiled, as she headed for the door.

“Thirteen weeks.” Frank looked at Fliss as she up “That confirms it’s definitely a made in Boston Bean”

Fliss laughed as he stood up, kissing her cheek as he went, the pair of them stopping as her stomach let out a huge growl. Frank looked at her, his eyebrow raised before his hand fell to her stomach.

“Is Bean hungry?” “So is Mumma.” she grinned.

“Well that goes without saying.” he teased.

“Hey I’m cooking another person here, pal, it’s hungry work….oh, can we go to the Waffle house? I could murder a chocolate and strawberries special. And apple juice.” “We can go wherever you want.” he smiled. “I’m yours for the entire day.”

“Even H&M?”

Frank hesitated before he groaned “Fine.” He looked at her before he grinned cheekily “You do need some new jeans after all…” “Bastard!” she snorted, slapping his arm and he gave a laugh.

***** Frank parked the truck up and climbed out to shove a couple of bucks in the meter. When he came back he looked at Fliss who was leaning on the door, arms folded.

“You do this in purpose?”

“What?” He frowned.

She nodded to the store he had managed to park outside, and he turned to see he’d inadvertently picked a spot outside a little independent baby boutique called Bloomers.

“Fuck, no!” he laughed and Fliss gave him a grin as he took her hand. They both turned to head towards the Waffle place but Fliss hesitated as she looked through the window of the shop. Frank waited for her, a soft smile on his face. He’d been itching to buy the baby something but Fliss had point blank refused to allow him or anyone else to do so until they had the confirmation from the scan to tell her everything was okay. She’d confided in Frank that she didn’t want to edge her bets, she felt that everything was just going too perfect for them and she was waiting for something to come along and fuck it up.

Frank had tried to reason with her, tell her that she was worrying about nothing but she’d gotten herself so worked up that in the end it had been easier to appease her, but now…well, she held that confirmation that it was all ok in a little black and white photo in her purse. Their baby was fine, healthy and strong and…fuck, they were gonna be the proud parents to a tiny baby person in another six months or so.

“You wanna go in?” he asked. She turned to him with a grin and nodded.

Frank held the door open for her and they walked into the little boutique, the pair of them stopping still as they looked around. There was so much baby stuff, Frank started to feel a little overwhelmed and suddenly thrown back 9 years or so to when he had been in a similar shop with Diane when she’d been preparing to have Mary.

It struck him then how the two situations couldn’t have been more different. For starters they had the support of family behind them right from the off. Bill and Verity had been over the moon when they had found out Fliss was expecting, even if it had come as a bit of a surprise. More so because they hadn't been planning on revealing their news quite the way it came out.  They'd agreed that they would announce their engagement first and get Christmas out of the way, for no particular reason really other than Fliss' brother would be over for New Years and they could tell the family together once they had broken the news to Mary first.

But, well, best laid plans and all that…

“Oh Lissy…” Verity gushed, tears in her eyes as she looked at Fliss’ ring “I’m so happy for you…”

“Thanks Mum!” Fliss smiled, her own tears spilling own her cheeks as Bill shook Frank’s hand furiously, before pulling him in for a manly hug.

“Thank you.” Bill muttered into his ear, so that no one could hear him. “Thank you for wanting to look after her.”

“Always.” Frank nodded as the man stepped back, smiling at him.

“Well, we need to crack that champagne open that we bought.” Verity pulled back.

“We have one in the fridge already.” Frank smiled. “We’ll save yours for later on with dinner.”

The champagne had been shared, Fliss having a small glass which she secretly topped up with a little lemonade so as not to spark too much suspicion, Mary also having a flute of fizzy apple juice before they settled down, exchanged gifts and then sat at the table for dinner. And all was going so well until Bill’s sharp eyes noticed Fliss wasn’t drinking wine.

“I’ve got a bit of a headache.” Fliss said, when he quizzed her about it, but even as she spoke she felt her cheeks flush.

“Right, you’re not pregnant then?” Bill snorted at his own joke.

“Oh Bill, stop it!” Verity nudged him, shaking her head.

Frank felt his neck beginning to warm as he glanced at Fliss, the pair of them trying to brush it off by smiling, but Bill’s eyes widened as he observed the pair of them and his mouth fell open “Jesus Christ you are.”

“What are you talking about?” Verity snorted “Of course she’s…” she trailed off as Fliss locked eyes with her and gave a sigh.

“We didn’t’ want to tell you yet, not until Steve was here and we’d spoken to Mary.”

“You’re having a baby?” Mary looked at Fliss, her eyes wide “Frank’s baby?”

“Well who else’s would it be?” Frank looked at Mary. She narrowed her eyes at him and he shook his head “We wanted to tell you first Stack, but we we’re gonna wait until after Christmas and we’d had a few days ourselves to get used to the idea...” “Few days?” Verity whispered and Fliss glanced at her mum whose hand had flown to her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears “When did you find out?”

“Yesterday morning.” Fliss said softly. “I didn’t tell Frank until the evening.”

“I’m sorry Titch…” Bill spluttered, his eyes also misting over said, “I didn’t for one second think you actually would be…”

With that he pushed his chair back and strode round to the other side of the table, Fliss rising to her feet to greet him in one of his famous bear hugs as he kissed her cheek before she turned to her mum who embraced her gently, sniffling as she did so.

When Verity released Fliss, she turned to Frank who was currently having his own back slapped once again by Bill before he turned just in time to see Mary was stood on her chair, but before he could tell her to sit down she’d launched herself at him.

“Oh my God this is so cool!” she said as Frank chuckled, catching her and then adjusting his arms so she was safely held “A baby?”

“Yeah…”

She turned to Fliss who moved towards the two of them, Frank shifting slightly as Mary leaned back in his arms to place hers round Fliss’ neck before he smiled at his girl as she turned back to her parents.

“We know it might be a bit sudden.” She began, her hands wringing together like they always did when she was a bit nervous. “And no it wasn’t planned- my bad, and yes, maybe we should have been married first but we’re happy and excited and…”

“Basically I gave her a diamond, she gave me a positive pregnancy test in return.” Frank kissed her cheek, cutting her ramblings off because he could tell she was spiralling. And there was no need to. Not one person in the room had reacted badly to their news.

“Fair swap I suppose.” Bill shrugged, his eyes shining. “No, it’s great news…it really…”

He trailed off shrugging, unable to find anything else to say. There was a moment’s silence before Mary let out a chuckle as she leaned back in Frank’s arms to look at him, her hands squishing his cheeks.

This is the best Christmas EVER!”

Frank had been overwhelmed with how much love and joy had filled the room for something that was barely the size of a bean at that point. He’d called his mother later on in the evening as Fliss had said it was only fair and to his surprised she’d sounded quite emotional when he told her, a stark contrast to how she’d received the news of Diane’s pregnancy. But then, as Frank had said to Fliss later on as they lay in bed, the Evelyn he was getting to know now was certainly different in his eyes to the woman she had been back then. Fliss had made a good point that it probably wasn’t completely down to Evelyn changing per-say, but also how he was viewing her as well.

But, then, how could things not be different after everything they had been through?

He glanced over as Fliss tugged on his hand and began to lead him over to the various displays of clothing. He tossed a glance at one of the strollers that was in the middle of the store on a slightly raised plinth, doing a double take when he saw the price tag.

“How much?” he spluttered and Fliss turned to look at him, then the offending item and gave a soft laugh

“Yeah, they’re not cheap…but we don’t need to worry about that yet, or cribs and stuff. To be fair we should probably be more concerned with where we’re gonna live.”

“Yeah I know.�� Frank took a deep breath.

“Hey.” Fliss looked at him. “Frank it’s not a problem…” “Yeah you said.” His tone was a little brusque and she frowned.

“What’s the matter?”

“I just don’t like the idea of them not having their own room. I did that with Mary and I want this to be right.” “Frank, it’s not a big deal.” Fliss smiled “Mary turned out ok and Bean will be in our room for a while anyway, we have plenty of time.” “I know but I’d still rather be able to move beforehand if we can.” he shrugged.

“Why?” She pressed.

“Because I want them to have a Nursery.” he pressed, flushing slightly “I’d like to decorate one for them…stuff I should have done for Mary.”

“And you can.” Fliss reached up to cup his cheek “Frank, it isn’t the be all and end all though. No one’s gonna think any less of you if there isn’t one ready and waiting. Certainly not my parents.” “Who says that’s what…” he trailed off when she shot him a knowing look and he sighed “Busted?” “Well and truly.”

“I know you’re right.” He chewed the inside of his cheek, “But it can’t hurt to give the landlord a call and explain can it? You never know, he might be happy to let us out of our lease early. It was me that pushed for a long term one after all.”

Fliss shrugged “Nope, you’re right it can’t hurt…” she stopped as something caught her eye and she started laughing “Oh my god, Frankie look…”

She picked up a baby grow that was a pale, lemon yellow colour with a white sailboat on the front. “A mini sailor.”

Frank snorted. “If you get that we need one with a horse on the front to balance it out, seeing as we don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl yet.” “Hey, girls can sail and boys can ride.” Fliss narrowed her eyes “Stop being sexist.”

At that he let out a loud laugh, a really loud laugh, which caused the assistant to look over at them both.

“I’m getting it.” Fliss nodded, definitively, picking it up.

“I’ll buy it.” Frank smiled gently, reaching for it.

“Why?”

“Fliss, don’t start! Let me buy my baby’s first stuff, please.” She cocked her head to one side, and he thought she was going to argue again but then that gorgeous smile spread across her face and she handed it to him.

“You’re such a softie.” She leaned up to give him a gentle kiss. They browsed for a bit longer, before her stomach let out another growl and Frank decided enough was enough. He gently began to lead her over to the till when she pulled on his hand again and grinned as she picked up a pair of tiny white Converse trainers

“They match Mary’s.”

“Yeah, and at almost thirty bucks they can stay matching on the shelf.” He grumbled.

“Bean needs them.”

“No, Bean doesn’t need them.” He rolled his eyes.

“Does.” Fliss bat her eyelashes at him as her hand fell to her stomach, gently rubbing over her T-shirt.

“Is this how it’s gonna be? Basically every time I say no to something you’re gonna play this card?” he looked at her, his eyebrow raising.

“Pretty much.” she nodded.

“Fucks sake.”  He shook his head before he let out an annoyed chuckle, “Fine, get the damned sneakers.”

*****

After a bite to eat they headed home to get Thor and took him up to the yard. Before the Vet started his routine examinations of the horses, Fliss asked if there was anything they could do to make Thor more comfortable. After seeing first-hand what they were trying to describe when Frank had dropped an arm round her shoulder, the Vet had suggested they could give the dog a mild sedative. But when Frank had realised that this would make him dopey, he had refused almost as vehemently as Fliss had. He knew it wasn’t Thor’s fault he was feeling the way he was, plus if Frank was honest, he liked the way he knew the dog would protect Fliss. Okay so she didn’t need it at home but it was comforting to know when he wasn’t there that she was safe.

“Other than that it’s a case of riding it out.”  Scott, the vet shrugged. “Our dog was a little off for about 4 months when my wife was expecting our first. For our second and third, well, he couldn’t care less.”

Frank looked at Fliss. “So he only needs a kennel for a few weeks then.” “My dog is NOT living in a kennel.” Fliss shot over her shoulder as she followed the vet over to the first stable which was Cap’s, Thor trotting behind her as always. “Oh, can you grab me a water from the office?” “Sure.” Frank nodded as Fliss carried on after the vet who entered the stall and Cap immediately looked at him suspiciously.

“He remembers from last year.” Scott chuckled and Fliss let out a snort.

“Probably. I wish he’d take a leaf out of Heidi’s books. She’s such a good girl for stuff like this.” Fliss slipped the halter over Cap’s head, gently stroking his nose as the vet felt all down his legs and listened to his heart. By the time Frank reappeared the Vet was checking Cap’s eyes then his ears and Fliss had a hold of the rope connected to his halter, wrapped once around his nose to keep control of him.

“Stop…being…an…ass…” She said as he jerked his head up again, attempting to get out of the vet’s reach. “Come on Cap…” She stroked his nose softly and he lowered his head, giving her a filthy look as he did so. The Vet then managed to check his teeth which were fine and moved back to his bag to retrieve his kit for the annual vaccination shot.

“Erm…” Scott looked at Fliss. “I’m not sure it’s wise you being here if he’s gonna go mad like he did last year.” His eyes flicked down to her stomach. Fliss hesitated and Frank could see she was about to tell the Vet where to get off when he cut in.

“Honey, he’s right.”

She turned to face him, glaring at him and he met her stare with one of his own, completely unperturbed and unwilling to back down. When she realised this she rolled her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll get Joanne.” She grumbled, opening the stable door and stalking past him.

Frank let out a noise that was halfway between a sigh and a groan. Scott chuckled a little and looked at him. “She’ll get used to it. Not being able to do certain things, I mean.” Frank snorted “I’m not so sure. She’s so damned headstrong…that’s why she likes him so much.” he nodded to the black and white horse in question “Kindred spirits.” A couple of minutes later Fliss came back, Joanne following and the blonde girl headed into the stall, taking hold of the rope.

“We may as well go.” Fliss turned to Frank. He frowned.

“You don’t want to stay?” “What’s the point, I’m not needed.” Her tone was clipped and Frank exchanged a look with Joanne who rolled her eyes

“Fliss, no one said that. You just you need to be a little bit more careful…” Joanne tried to appease her but Fliss was having none of it. “I can be careful at home.” She snapped and then turned to Frank “Can we go?”

“Sure.” Frank shrugged.

“Call me if there’s anything I need to know, otherwise I’ll see you tomorrow.” Fliss said without looking at Joanne as she left.

Frank shot Joanne an apologetic look as he followed Fliss out of the barn and towards the truck.

“Was that really necessary?” he asked.

“Was what necessary?” she yanked the door to the truck open to let Thor hop into the back.

“You know full well what.” he looked at her as she slammed the door shut and move to the passenger one. “There was no need to speak to Joanne like that, she didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, no one did anything wrong.”

“Other than telling me I can’t do my job.” Came the retort as Fliss sank into the passenger seat, once more slamming the door shut.

“No one is saying you can’t do your job, just that for a little while you need to be careful.” He shook his head as he climbed in after her. “. You can’t ride and you can’t put yourself in a position where you might get hurt.”

Fliss folded her arms across her chest, staring out of the front window sullenly. “So basically I can’t do my job, like I just said…” “You own and manage the stables.” Frank felt his temper starting to flare a little as he drove the truck down the drive to the road.

“I’m well aware of that thank you!” “So own and manage then, Fliss!” he said loudly. Behind them on the back seat Thor began to growl at his raised voice.

“I do!” she blazed back, “What kind of stupid comment is that?”

“No, you do everything.” he snapped back, shaking his head, ignoring the dog. “You promoted Joanne so that you could take a step back and for a while you did, but then it all started creeping back up again and you took more of that control back. You took the classes you gave her back, you still insist on being there most mornings to open and close up! The whole point of you giving her more responsibility was so that you could concentrate on teaching and the management side.” Fliss looked at him, before she turned away, staring out of the window as Thor’s growls died down. She knew Frank was right, she had started taking bits of tasks back off Joanne. Not on purpose, not really, but because she felt like she should be doing more. She didn’t like feeling out of control, not after spending so long being forced to be for no particular reason other than her ex was an abusive ass hole.

“Honey I get it.” Frank sighed, as he saw her reach up to wipe her eyes. “It’s your business, but that doesn’t mean you have to be on the front lines all the time. Look at Alan, I see him max once a month, the rest of the time he leaves it to me and the other team leaders to run. That’s the whole point!” “I know.” Fliss said quietly. “I’m a control freak, I get it…guess I spent so much time not being in control of my life and my career I just…”

Frank took a deep breath his hand reaching out for hers. Once more ignoring the dog on the back seat he tangled his fingers into hers and raised his hand to her mouth, pressing his lips softly to her wrist.

“Being driven isn’t a bad thing, sweetheart.” he said softly “In fact it’s one of the things that attracted me to you in the first place. But, certainly for the next few months you need to just step back, let others do the work for you. You can still boss them about from the side lines.” “I don’t boss-“ she started and he looked at her eyebrow raised and she let out a chuckle. “Okay, maybe I do a little.” “And you’re entitled to.” He smiled. “Look, I don’t want to tell you what to do and I have no intentions of making you stop work or anything like that but, well, it’s not just you now, you got Bean to think about and I worry ok?” “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Me too. I didn’t mean to snap.”

Apologies accepted and World War Three avoided, Frank smiled at her and she smiled back as he let go of her hand so he could turn the truck up the lane onto the freeway.

“So…” he said, changing the subject “How do you want to tell the Circle of Truth our news.” She grinned and turned to look at him “I had an idea…” Turns out her idea was simple. Giggling to themselves once they go home they arranged the scan photo, the baby-grow and the trainers on the dining table, snapped a photo and fired it out to the group text accompanied simply by the words “Coming August 2019…”

Immediately both their phones started to ring, Greg was on to Frank, and Bonnie onto Fliss. Whilst Greg was slightly more reserved, Bonnie was almost screaming in excitement demanding to know all the details.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” she scoffed and Fliss smiled. “We didn’t tell anyone other than family.” she said “With everything that has happened I was so scared something might go wrong. You’re not cross are you?”

“Cross, no of course not! This is amazing!” Bonnie gushed “So, what happened first, you gotta tell me…the proposal or finding that out?”

Fliss beamed “No, Frank proposed before he knew. Which makes me even happier because he wanted me to marry him because of me, not out of any duty or feeling it was the right thing to do.”

“Of course he wanted to marry you.” Bonnie scoffed “That goes without saying. Oh I’m so excited, I can’t wait.”

Bonnie’s reaction paled into insignificance to Roberta’s. When they collected Mary from the school bus they told her that she could go and tell Roberta the news she’d been dying to tell her since Christmas, so she skipped ahead, banging on the woman’s door. When Mary blurted out Fliss was pregnant and Frank passed her the scan photo she paused for a moment before her head raised to look at them both and she burst into tears and it took them a good half an hour to calm her down. Once she’d assured them she was fine and couldn’t wait for unofficial Nanny duties, the three of them headed home where they decided that Pizza was on the menu for the evening. Along with waffles for Fliss, of course.

After stuffing their faces they sat on the sofa, the scan photo placed on the coffee table, Frank catching Mary looking at it every so often. When it hit 8 pm and he told her it was time for bed, she grumbled as usual until Frank shot her a look and she sighed dramatically, shuffling to the edge of the seat she had been occupying between them both.

She glanced at the scan photo before she turned to Fliss and looked at her.

“I really am happy you’re having a baby.” She smiled “It’s been so hard not telling everyone at school, especially Rosie.”

Fliss smiled at her and Frank reached out, rubbing Mary’s back. “Well you can tell who you want now Stack.” “You know you’re gonna have to stop calling me that.” She turned to look at him “Because when Bean is born, it’s gonna be the shortest one out of us all.” “You’ll always be short stack to me.” Frank smirked. “Or I could change it to squirt, or pain-in-the-ass…” “You’re so lame.” Mary rolled her eyes.

Frank gave a sarcastic laugh. “ha ha ha.”

“Can Rosie come for dinner on Friday?” She suddenly looked at Fliss, and Fliss immediately glanced at Frank. They’d heard a lot about the girl from Mary, and Bonnie had said they were thick as thieves at school which pleased Frank, the fact that she was actually forging proper friendships but she’d never asked them if she could have a friend over.

“Of course.” Fliss nodded. “You can ask her tomorrow and then I can speak to her mom if you want? Maybe she can sleep over?” “Hmmm.” Mary thought about it “I’m not sure about that, but dinner would be good.”

Frank looked at Fliss again “What aren’t you sure about?”

She shrugged “I dunno, I kinda like my own time in the evening.” “What are you, ninety?” Frank looked at her and she glared at him.

“Shut up.”

“She can come for dinner.” Fliss cut across what was threatening to spark into a childish tit-for-tat insult trading game “Ask her tomorrow and then I’ll speak to her mom okay?”

“How will you speak to her mom?” “I’ll call her.” “Do you have her number?” “No but you can get it for me.” Fliss looked at Mary “Or I’ll come pick you up and catch her at School…” “Stop worrying about stuff…” Frank said exasperatedly “We’ll sort it ok? Now come on, bed!”

Mary stood up and she looked once more at the scan photo “Is it wrong that I already love the baby, like loads?”

“No, it’s not wrong.” Fliss smiled at her.

“I mean know it’s like just my cousin and not my brother or sister or anything but…” Mary trailed off shrugging. “Hey.” Fliss looked at her, frowning slightly as she reached out to tuck Mary’s now quite long hair behind her ear, “It’s not just your cousin. Bean’s gonna be living with you, looking up to you, annoying the hell out of you, following you…and they’re gonne love you, learn from you…you’ll be just the same as a big sister.”

Marry nodded and turned to hug Fliss, then to Frank who pulled her onto his lap, kissing her forehead.

“I know you’re only my Uncle but I really wish you were my dad.” Mary said, her voice quiet. Frank looked at Fliss, swallowing as his girl wore a look on her face that he had no words to describe other than one of utter heartbreak and love as her eyes sprang with tears and he felt his own water.

“Only your Uncle?” he said, his voice cracking as he attempted to make a joke “Charming…” “You know what I mean.” Mary shrugged.

Frank sighed. It was the first time Mary had ever said anything like that to him. She’d made a comment in the past about wishing Fliss was her mom which hadn’t been repeated since. If truth be told, he felt uneasy labelling himself as her father. Granted, a lot of people automatically assumed he was, and if they weren’t people he knew, or would meet again, he didn’t bother correcting them because it wasn’t needed. Fliss had told him time and time again, no matter how much he hated it, he was Mary’s father by-proxy, even if she didn’t call him that, and he got that yes, but he still wanted Mary to know about Diane, even if he had brought her up. For that reason, he would never be referred to as her father, nor would she ever call him Dad, but he’d love her like he was every single day of his life.

“Look…” He sighed, pulling back to look down at her. “I promised I’d always look after you…well, until I get too old and you put me in a nursing home.” at that she laughed a little “Isn’t that what a dad does?”

Mary nodded “Yeah…”

“So what’s really eating you, Stack?” He asked softly, he could see that she wasn’t completely placated.

“When the baby comes…you’re not gonna love me any less are you?” She asked, looking at him.

“Fuck, no!” Frank blurted out, at the same time Fliss exclaimed

“Of course not!”

Frank shook his head “Mary, I couldn’t love you any more if I tried, regardless of whether you were actually my kid or not. And Fliss feels the same.” “Of course I do.” Fliss looked at her

“So please don’t worry about that or think that for a single second, okay?”

“Okay.” She sniffed, before she grinned at Frank “You said the F word.”

“Yeah, well you drove me to it.” he shrugged “And here’s another swear for you. If I ever hear stupid shit like that come outta your mouth again…there’s gonna be real trouble. You have nothing to worry about. I promise you from the bottom of my heart. Lissy too.”

Fliss nodded “I already tell the people I work with when they ask who the girl is on the website that she’s my Mary”

“You do?”

“Course.” she nodded, “Because you are.”

Mary took a deep breath before she nodded “Okay. Can I watch TV in my room for a while?”

Frank sighed “Twenty minutes, max…”

Mary nodded and then looked at him again. “Can I take the photo of Bean for my wall?”

“We were gonna stick it on the fridge, so we can all share it.” Frank looked at her “But tell you what, you take it tonight and then we’ll make a copy for you to keep.”

“Can I take my copy to school?”

“You can stick it on your head for all I care.” Frank shrugged.

“Well that’s just dumb.” She scoffed, hopping down off his knee. Fliss and Frank watched her leave before Frank looked at Fliss, letting out a deep breath.

“Do you think she feels left out, already?” “No.” Fliss said, shaking her head “She’s just a little concerned things are going to change for her, and I understand why Frank. Stuff is gonna change around here, there’s no denying that and it’s going to be strange for her. Especially as she’s had so many changes to put up with over the last eighteen months. You know, she had you to herself for so long and then I turned up, and then I moved in and suddenly there’s a wedding and a baby on the way. It’s happened fast and-“ “Too fast?” Frank looked at Fliss, his face betraying his worry and Fliss shook her head.

“No, not at all. I love you, and I have no doubt I want to spend the rest of my life with you and yes, this baby wasn’t planned but, I’m happy. All I’m saying is that it’s been a huge thing for us, and we’re adults. For an almost nine year old then it’s bound to be overwhelming.” “I just don’t want her to worry about her ever having to leave us again.” he sighed. “Or that I’m gonna replace her with my actual kid…”

“She doesn’t.” Fliss assured him. “Not really. Look, try not to think about it too much okay? Let’s enjoy this you know? It’s scary, really scary, but it’s also exciting!” “Yeah, yeah it is…” Frank smiled and shifted slightly, his hand reaching out to Fliss’ stomach as he placed a tender kiss to her lips.

And right on cue the thunder once more rumbled from Thor’s throat.

**** Chapter 2

[btsslowburnfic]

Series Summary: For Namjoon, the moment he set his sights on being the #1 rapper, he pushed the symbol to the side and hated it. Love should be chosen, not forced on you. He didn’t believe in fate and this mark on his wrist was a big “fuck you” to all that.

AN: a loooong update where we get YN to Korea Previous Chapter here

The three of you made it safe and sound to your new brownstone across the river in New Jersey. Joe has a job lined up, but at the moment you and Xavier are unemployed. On this particular day, you are in your room job hunting when you hear a knock on your bedroom door and then see Xavier gently push it open. “Fly your ass to Korea. Now. Here,” Xavier throws a book at you. “I bought you a Korean dictionary.”

You roll your eyes. “Namjoon speaks English. And I can’t read the characters or whatever so how will a dictionary help. And, I’m not going to Korea.”

Xavier crosses his arms in front of his body. “Girl. You are still in your twenties. You have no job. There is a hot man who is also your soulmate across the ocean. GO TO KOREA.” You pick your phone back up, ignoring him. You hear him let out a frustrated sigh and leave the room. You didn’t know what you wanted. You didn’t tell them that Namjoon had passed along his schedule to you and that he would be in Korea for 6 weeks starting in two weeks and that he had offered to buy you a plane ticket. You kept going back and forth. Fine. Fuck it.

YN: Hey! I’ve been thinking and I would like to come visit. As long as it’s not too much trouble and won’t interfere with your schedule

You let out a breath and put the phone down. One thing you have learned is that he keeps very strange hours and there is no way of knowing when he will be awake, when he will be performing, or even what country he is in. You are shocked when you receive a reply instantly.

NJ: It’s no problem. I will be working a lot of the time, but there is also some free time blocked out so make sure you’re ready to do some sightseeing as well on your own. I’ll rent a noona for you.

YN: I have no idea what that means but ok. Sounds exciting.

NJ: You can rent tour guides. An “older sister” to translate and show you around on some of the days.

YN: That would be amazing! Ok. Sounds great!!

NJ: I’ll book the flight and email you the information.

YN: Awesome ^_^ Thank you so much.

You try to keep your cool. You really do. But it doesn’t last long as you sit the phone down and walk out into the hallway. “Xavier!”

“What? Brat.” You hear him call from the living room.

“I’m going to Korea!” You say with a big smile on your face.

“Holy shit. You’re doing it!?! Really? When?” He sits up straight on the couch.

“I’m not sure. He’s booking the flight.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God. IT’S HAPPENING. Come. Sit here. Let’s watch some Kdramas. We need to prepare you.”

You roll your eyes but join him on the couch anyway.

--3 weeks later--

The flight isn’t too bad. When Namjoon booked your ticket you did secretly wonder if he would spring for an upgraded seat since you know...you guessed he was rich. You did not expect that he was going to pay for a first class seat though. The comfort of the seats and the fact that food was actually delicious helped to balance out the longest flight you had ever taken in your life. You managed to get some rest on the plane, but not very much since you were so excited and nervous. You had not seen each other for a while. And the last time you saw him you were both naked.

When you arrive you don’t have any bags to collect; you just brought your carry-on. You know you are going to do a lot of shopping while you are there and had decided you would just buy a suitcase there. You walk down to departures and scan the crowd looking for your name. This was so exciting. You had been the person in the crowd holding a name placard before, but you had never had it done for you. It helped that it was one of the few names written in English. You smile and walk over to a man in a suit.  After confirming each other’s identity, you follow him out to a black SUV with tinted windows. He takes your bag and you slide into the backseat. 

YN: Hey! I’m on my way to the hotel. When will I get to see you?

NJ: Yeah….about that. There is no way I would be able to just be going in and out of a hotel without anyone here noticing. This isn’t LA. We can’t really go out in public much here. The driver will be taking you to my apartment complex. Once you get here, you will let security know who you are. They will provide you with a key and directions.

You weren’t expecting this at all, but it made sense.

YN: Umm ok. Sounds like a plan. 

You hoped to God someone at the security office spoke English. Oh well. You typed some things into your translation app just in case and tried to enjoy the scenery. It was a city, but it seemed a lot cleaner than LA. Less sunny, and more modern. At least the parts you were driving through.

After a fifteen minute taxi ride that has brought you into a very fancy part of Seoul you try to keep your cool as your driver assures you that this is the location you are supposed to be at. It is fancy looking as fuck and has a giant ass gate around it. The driver pulls up and shows his credentials and then pulls up and rolls your window down.

The security officer stands there, looking at you. You pull out your passport and state your name. He looks over a sheet of paper and nods. Handing you an envelope that feels like it has a keyboard and some papers in it. You thank him in shitty Korean and the driver closes the window. You open the envelope.

“Hey. If you’re getting this, I wasn’t able to get off work in time to meet you. The driver knows which building to go to. Use this key to go to unit 4106. Text me when you get there. Sorry!

Namjoon”

The chauffeur drives between several of the buildings. The streets are lined with trees and there appeared to be several small gardens between the buildings. The car comes to a stop outside building 4. The driver gets out to open your door and hands you the bag. You thank him and head into the building.

The apartment building was a lot like a luxury hotel, you find yourself thinking. It was decorated similarly with gilded light fixtures and a marble floor. You scan your key card at the elevators and head up to the 10th floor. 

It becomes very obvious from the minute you walk in that this is Namjoon’s actual apartment. His giant shoes are all over the foyer.  You purse your lips and take out your phone.

YN: YOU DIDNT SAY IT WAS YOUR APARTMENT

NJ: Relax sweetheart, the guest bedroom is for you. I’m hardly ever there. Make yourself at home and I’ll see you later ;p

YN: THATS NOT THE POINT

NJ: You’re welcome. Stop being a brat and enjoy.

You pout a little bit. Fine. Fine. You’ve already slept with him so why does it matter if this is his apartment. Because it feels so much more intimate, you think. You enter into the space while texting Xavier.

YN: New chapter in the Kdrama series. 

You knew Xavier would normally be sleeping, but he was so excited and wanted to make sure you made it safely he was wide awake.

X: Oh no, what?

YN: he didn’t arrange for me to stay in a hotel IM AT HIS APARTMENT.

X: AHAHAHAHAHA HOLY SHIT. Is it nice? Is there like a waterfall? Does it smell like rich people? Send pictures!

YN: I don’t think I should send pics since he’s famous, but there are no waterfalls that I can see. It smells normal. Actually no, it smells new, like people don’t really live here. Stay tuned for updates.

X: Has he dicked you yet?

YN: -_- he’s stuck at work. And I’ll be in the guest bedroom thankyouverymuch.

X: Yeah….ok…..suuuuuuure.

You put your phone back in your pocket and continue to wander around the apartment. It is the size of a house. There is a small terrace running  along the side of the unit and three open rooms that flow together. I guess rich people need more than one living room? You wonder. They are all furnished with couches and art. The floors are a beautiful Marble. Or Granite. Some expensive imported thing. You notice several plants on the wall as well as out on the terrace. Huh. I did not think he would be into plants, you find yourself thinking.

YN: Nice plants

NJ: My pride and joy

You smile and walk into the kitchen. It looks like a showroom. You doubt much cooking goes on here. If you could afford to eat out all the time you would too. You open the fridge and as predicted, it is mostly empty. There are a few bottles of water and some random condiments. Panic strikes you as you begin to wonder if there’s a coffee maker in this apartment. This could be a deal breaker; you might have to flee to the Marriott. There isn’t one sitting out. You frantically open cabinets. You make eye contact with a very fancy looking Espresso maker. Ok. You will learn how to use this beast. You sit it out on the counter and plug it in. Crisis averted for now. You continue through the rest of the house. You quickly find the master bedroom. Big bed. That’s all you take note of before closing the door. You don’t want to be nosy. You wander to the other end of the apartment and find an extra bedroom and an office. You don’t go to the office, but do take your stuff into the guest bedroom. You are feeling tired and starting to feel hungry.

YN: When will you be back? Is there a convenience store nearby? I need coffee and/or food.

NJ: Sorry. It will still be a while. Actually there are several stores on property. The closest one is in building 2. Here, download the app. I’ll send you the login info.

YN: Thanks.

You change out of your traveling clothes into real clothing and head to the market. The apartment complex’s layout is fairly easy to understand once you look at the app. You walk over to tower 2 and ride the elevator to the market level. It looks like the atrium of a cruise ship. There is a giant crystal chandelier hanging in the middle of the lobby area as well as beautiful indoor trees, glass art bulbs, probably a peacock or two wandering around, and some light music playing in the background. Oh God. I should just starve. This is too fancy. I need to leave.  

You turned to leave when you heard a voice speaking politely in Korean. You ignore it, and then hear the same voice ask in English,  “Excuse me, Miss. Can I help you?” A short man in his 50’s walked over. “I’m on the concierge staff here. You must be new.” 

“Ah yes. Thank you. Umm...Coffee please?”

“Of course. Take-away or beans?”

“Both please?” You ask, trying to keep it simple and very thankful for the English.

“Yes of course. If you just get me the unit number I can actually just have it sent there. Also there is an ordering and delivery app you can use next time if you would like to save yourself the walk.” The man explained while he typed some information into a tablet. 

“That’s very helpful. Thank you. For today, now please.” 

“Very well miss, please insert your chip or resident card here and sign,” he turned the tablet towards you. You inserted your debit card.  

“Thank you. Please wait.”

You take a seat in the fancy lobby area and get out your phone. You had some messages from Namjoon.

[NJ]: Oh, there is also an app you can download and order groceries to the apartment. 

[NJ]: I usually eat at work so I forget about it.

[NJ]: Sorry, you probably already hiked there.

A smirk crossed your face as you started to type a response.

[Y/N]: Sorry, I just saw these. And no worries. It’s a beautiful part of the complex. I was a little overwhelmed to be honest but the concierge was very helpful!  10/10 recommend.  

You take a picture of the lobby area and send it to him.

[NJ]: wow, yeah that’s beautiful. I haven’t actually been there myself.

The concierge returns, handing you a coffee and a bag of coffee beans.  You thank him profusely one more time.

“My pleasure. Take care.”

You sit the beans down and pose with your coffee cup, snapping a selfie to send to Namjoon.

[Y/N]: There, now all is right with the world ^_^

[NJ]: :) See you soon!

You travel back to the apartment and unpack your suitcase. You try your hardest to stay awake, but at this point you have been up for over 24 hours and you can feel the pull of sleep. You’ll just lay down for a nap. 

---------

It is dark outside by the time Namjoon gets off work. He feels bad he couldn’t meet you in the car at the airport, and even worse that he’s kept you waiting for hours. You haven’t answered any of his texts these past few hours either. He opens the door to his apartment. The lights are off. Did you leave? He wonders. He flips on the light and sees your shoes by the door which put a smile on his face. You must be sleeping. He hasn’t actually been in his apartment for about 2 months. It was mostly the same as he left it, except most of the time when he returned the apartment had a stale smell from having been left empty. This time it smelled like coffee and girl.

He enters the main living area and finds you laying in a small blanket nest on the couch with a laptop on the table; a coffee cup resting on a coaster next to it. He smiles and goes through to his bedroom to deposit his travel bag. He washes his face and changes clothes and then proceeds to nervously pace. Should he wake you up? You were probably tired, but at the same time, to prevent jet lag you shouldn’t sleep too much, and he wanted to hang out with you. He wrestles with this issue for a while and then decides he will try to wake you up.

He gently shakes your foot, “Hey sleepy. Wake up.” 

“Mmmmmmmmmmm…” you respond. What’s happening? You kick the thing bothering your foot. So annoying. You hear a deep voice laugh. Oh shit, where were you again? The shaking of your foot resumes and you crack open one of your eyes and see Namjoon sitting on the couch. “Heyyyy.”

“Hey there sweetheart. Nice seeing you in Korea.”

You feel your heart do a little flip flop at the way he’s talking to you but you want to play it cool. “Yeah. It’s good to be here.” You stretch out and move to sit up.

“How are your legs doing?” He asks.

“Good. They get stiff pretty easily and I still have to do my exercises everyday but they don’t hurt most of the time or anything. I get pretty bad headaches from time to time, but you already knew that. Sorry about that by the way.”

“It’s fine, I just carry aspirin around with me now.” He shrugs. “Did you get any food? Should I order something?”

“Yeah. Order some super Korean food.” You are fully awake now.

“Yeah? You serious? It’s not going to be like Koreatown food.” He teases

“Might as well jump in. If I don’t like it, there’s always rice, right?” You smile.

“That’s true,” he takes out his phone to order dinner.

“What did you do today?”

“Today was planning for the Festa. Even though it’s months away we have to make sure we have enough content planned just in case there are any unforeseen delays.”

“Cool.” You say. You had done your basic level ARMY research so you were somewhat familiar with their different activities.

“How was your flight? You should probably get up and stretch those legs around. Get up.” He pushes your shoulder playfully.

“Ughhh….fine. By the way. Nice apartment. Is rent like 20 grand a month?” You stand up groaning slightly like an old woman. Damn stiff legs.

“Uhh...I paid 6 million dollars for it up front so I don’t pay rent. Do you want anything to drink?”

It’s a good thing you weren’t drinking anything when he dropped that little factoid on you or you would have spit it out comic-book style. Jesus. That explained the security and Gucci grocery store. “Uh water please.” You walked over following him to the kitchen. “It’s good to see you by the way. Thanks for inviting me.” You slowly remember how to speak like a human again.

“Sure. I wish I had more free time to spend with you, but I’m glad you were able to make it.” He fills a glass with water for you. “Wait a minute! Before I forget,” he jogs out of the room and returns with a small box. “Here, this is for you. We were in Australia last month and I wanted to get something for you.”

You are surprised. It didn’t occur to you that he would think about you or buy you something. Until a few months ago you had considered yourself a nuisance. “Wow, thank you so much. You didn’t have to do that.” you say, taking the box, “I hope it’s a tiny KNOIFE or tiny koala or tiny kangaroo,” you open the box. It is an adorable mug with a Koala on it superimposed on the Australian Continent. It says in English, “Lucky Australian Koala.” You burst out laughing, cupping the mug with both your hands in front of your face. “This is perfection. Thank you so much for my authentic LUCKY AUSTRALIAN KOALA, I cannot wait to drink out of him tomorrow. Seriously. “ You sit the mug on the kitchen table. Fuck it. “Come here,” you gesture, and pull him in for a hug. His body feels solid against your and he gently wraps his arms around you. You give a firm squeeze. “Thank you for the mug and for flying me out here.”  You pull away and smile at him. 

He looks away almost shy, “It was nothing. I figure I still owe you a few for the pen incident.”

You take a drink of the water. “Yeah. You have had some dickish moments.” 

“Speaking of dickish behavior...do you want to talk about what happened with Ben or…?”

You shrug. “There’s not a lot to say. Ben apparently met his soulmate about 4 months before the car accident. He tried to stay away since we had already agreed that we didn't care about stuff like that. But he couldn't. I don't know when he started seeing Jessie behind my back. They were apparently banging all summer in the apartment and while I was in the hospital.” You take another gulp of water. Namjoon is surprised that he isn’t feeling much anger or sadness coming off of you. “After I got all my shit out of the apartment and had a chance to calm down, I couldn't be too mad about it you know? You and I had already slept together and most people aren't as stubborn as us. So really, how could they resist? I mean I was angry and sad at the time but at this point it seems like a lifetime ago. "

Namjoon had never asked about what had happened with Ben before, assuming that if you wanted to talk about it you would have brought it up. " Wow. "

"Yeah. I mean that's waaaay oversimplified but that's the gist of it. Anyways. Everything was a mess for me for a while. You know I stayed with Xavier and Joe and then  Xavier's husband got a really good job offer here so we all picked up and left LA."

“And now you’re in New York.” He finishes your thought

“Yeah. Well Jersey technically because rent is $1000 less a month. But I’m applying for jobs as assistant director at tv stations and theaters. I’m hopeful something will come up. I can’t really teach fitness classes anymore.”

Namjoon listens thoughtfully, feeling like a jackass for never asking about this stuff before. What kind of soulmate was he? 

“Well, let me know if you need a job reference.”

“Ahahahaha,” You laugh awkwardly. “No way. I don’t want people thinking I only got a job because I know someone famous.”

“Sweetheart, that’s how everyone gets jobs in the industry.” He leans against the counter.

“I don’t know, I’ll think about it.” You fidget

“You know I’ll just text Xavier and he’ll tell me the companies you applied for.” Namjoon flashes his dimples at you.

You scowl. “I didn’t realize you two were so chummy.”

“Hey, we bonded a lot in the hospital.” His phone let out a chirp. “The food is at the security office. I’ll be back in a few. Make yourself at home.” He heads over to the foyer to slip his shoes on. 

You decide to unpack and then wash your face and brush your teeth before returning to the main area where he has just returned. “That was fast”, you comment, meeting him near the door and taking a bag from his hands.

“I rode my bike over.” He replies, following you to the kitchen. 

“They let your clumsy ass ride a bike?” You tease, pulling food out.

He lets out a laugh, “Yeah. Just remember, only one of us has got hit by a car.”

“Touche. Touche. Alright. I don’t know what any of this is, so I’m going to go wait at the table like a lazy bitch.”

“Haha, fair enough. I’ll bring it over. “

You head over and have a seat at the dining table, placing your water down. This feels so weird. So intimate. He joins a few minutes later placing a bunch of food on the table along with a spoon and chopsticks.

“I’m sure there’s a fork around here somewhere if you need one.” He says as he opens the lids on the containers.

“I lived in LA where we ate sushi almost every day, I think I’ll be ok.” You sass back, ,looking over all of the delicious food. You start to dig in. He sits waiting to see what your reaction will be. You flash him a thumbs up as you chew. It’s definitely good. He smiles and begins to eat as well.

Dinner is relatively quiet. You had no idea how hungry you were until you started to eat. Some of the foods had a texture you didn’t quite care for, but overall you liked it all.

“Wow. That was delicious. Thank you so much.” You smile

“It was. You’re welcome.” He gets up and starts to clear the table and you join him. 

You continue to yawn involuntarily as the two of you straighten up the kitchen,

“Do you want some coffee or a nap?” he asks.

“I’m going to try and stay awake a little bit longer. What does the rest of the night look like?”

“Relaxing. I am exhausted from work. And you don’t look so fresh yourself. LEt’s watch a movie or something.” He says it so casually. Like this is a normal thing the two of you do. Like it hasn’t been months since the last time you saw each other and you left him naked and alone in a bed. You feel your heartbeat speed up.

“Hold on, I’m changing into some comfy clothes before I make this commitment.” you get up and head towards your room.

You come back in leggings and a shirt. Namjoon has re-positioned himself on the end of the couch. You sit next to him. “Ok, all set,” you grab your blanket. 

“You take your comfort quite seriously,” Namjoon laughs as he hits the play button. 

“Definitely,” you respond, yawning. After about half an hour, It’s dark outside, the night spilling into the living room. You are trying to keep your eyes open. You feel Namjoon put his large arm around you. You don’t resist, you nestle into it. You feel the warmth of his body radiating against you. It feels so nice.You try to stay awake but your eyelids grow heavy.  The next thing you know, you wake up slowly, not quite oriented to where you are. Your face is sweaty. You take stock of your surroundings. You are still in the living room. You must have fallen asleep while watching the movie. You move a bit and realize you are not alone. Namjoon is asleep as well. Underneath you. Oh god. You probably trapped him. Is that your drool on his shirt? You wonder. But you know that yes, it definitely is. Jesus [Y/N].Not making a great impression here.  Must sneak out so the drool will dry before he wakes up. You move as stealthy as possible off of him, which is very difficult since you found yourself laying between his legs. How did you even get like that? You had gone in for a light snuggle to see how it would be received and then apparently passed out dead. No more starting movies when you were tired. You knew it was your weakness. 

The poor man probably had to pee and was stuck, forced to lay underneath you until he fell asleep.    Is he snoring? Huh. Well ok. You drool and he snores. Very attractive individuals. You grab a blanket from your nest on the other side of the couch and put it on top of him. You sneak down the hallway to your bathroom, pee and sneak into your bedroom. You lay down and try to fall asleep, but your heart is beating fast as all you can think about it falling asleep on Namjoon. You feel your face grow warm. You are  a mix of turned on and embarrassed. You turn off your light and wonder if he will still want to go sightseeing with your drooly-ass tomorrow.  @calling-dips-on-j-hope​​  @ghostkat23​​ @cuteipat​​ @marianeamine​​@thisisval​​ @almonte12​​  @themisunderstoodblackswan​ @bobbyboops​  @betysotelo18​ @katerbees​