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saerotonins · 4 months

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in a world full of boys, he's a gentleman

ft. nanami kento x fem!reader

— in which kento unintentionally proves how much of a husband material he is.

content warnings: fluff, smut, light angst, suggestive, making out, nanami kento being a certified hubby, fiancée!kento, weddings, mentions/implied slut-shaming, reader has horrible relatives, reader is described to be non-traditional, riding, p in v sex, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, choking, hair pulling, curses still exist but nobody dies (yay!) and geto is mentally fine and a teacher at jujutsu tech <33, im so in love with him, some can be considered bare minimum and subtle but idc if he does it he's the standard, kento loves it when you're checking him out, just kento being a gentleman, kento is so in love with you, you you and you in his mind, reader is just as the same btw, corny ass vow (idk how to write one srry)

wc: 5591 (holy shit lol)

note: im!! so!! head!! over!! heels!!! with!! this!! man!! (it's really not that obvious, right?) he's so dreamy he deserves a lot of kissy kisses and a ticket to malaysia <33 also!! just realized this is my first piece for 2024 tehehe happy new year, everyone! 🎀🎆

best enjoyed with: slut! - taylor swift

that time when you both went out for a picnic

the sunset paints the sky with the most vibrant colors as you and kento bask in each other's presence and sit on a picnic blanket, surrounded by the quiet sways of the green grass, accompanied by some people who decided to hang out around the vicinity.

it's one of those days that kento is blessed by once in a blue moon break from being a jujutsu sorcerer. kendo's always grateful to have this kind of day because it would mean that his hands would spend their time stealing soft touches against your skin instead of fighting curses.

a faint clink can be heard when you and kento toast your glasses together, half filled with your favorite champagne. it's a tad bit sweet to kento's liking as he is not good with sweets, but he opted to bring it to your picnic instead of his favorite whiskey because he knows you love it.

kento watches you put your lips on the champagne flute and drink your sweet alcohol with glee. he takes a small sip from his as he stares at you with admiration.

satisfied with your drink, you set it aside on your coaster as you lean your head on kento's shoulders. "such a lovely day, isn't it?" you say while you close your eyes, soaking in the remaining rays of the sunshine before it sleeps, allowing the night to take over the sky.

kento hums in approval as he puts his free hand on your head, giving it gentle and loving pats as he rests his head against yours, but not before giving you a quick peck. "we should do this more often,"

"i agree; you should ditch gojo more and spend more time with me," you joked, and you heard your fiancée chuckle, "that wouldn't be so professional of me, darling," it's your turn to let out a chuckle.

"it's gojo; being professional is already out of the window."

"you're right, maybe i should," kento jested back.

the two of you just sat in comfortable silence until a slightly strong gust of wind blew in your direction. caught by the shock of it all, you close your eyes and hold your sundress down to avoid flashing the strangers. but before you could even do it, a strong pair of arms wrapped around you.

kento had covered you, so any speck of dust blown by the wind wouldn't be able to get into your eyes. your sundress is also held down by his knees between your legs. when you opened your eyes, you were greeted by your fiancée's face close to yours, assessing you. you suddenly feel your stomach tumble and fill with butterflies.

"are you okay? didn't get anything in your eyes?" he says gently, eyes observing you with worry. you give him a slight nod, "mhm, i'm fine kento, how about you?" kento answered with a hum as he tried to fix your dress and some parts of the picnic blanket that was slightly blown away by the wind.

"i think that's the cue for us to pack up, or do you want to stay for a while?" kento asks you while he starts to pack up some of your stuff into the picnic bag. "we should stay until the sun completely sets, it's a shame to leave while the sky looks pretty."

kento nods and finishes packing before he sits beside you, looking at the view. he then makes your head lean on his shoulders once again, his hands caressing the top of your head. "yeah, i agree, the sky looks pretty." he states.

he feels you nod and continues, "but you're prettier to look at," he says as he looks down at you and to his surprise, he meets your eyes on him. "i could say the same to you, kento," you say before capturing his lips against yours.

kento smiles on your lips before reciprocating your gesture, slightly tasting the remnants of your sweet champagne earlier.

and at that moment, he thought, it doesn't matter if his tongue tasted something so sweet, as long as it's from your lips.

that time when you went christmas shopping

the mall filled with bustling crowds is not a perfect way to spend time with your fiancée. but when this is the only time your schedules align to go for a last-minute shopping to buy gifts for your loved ones, you don't really have a choice.

kento especially noticed how much you were on edge today despite being excited to buy gifts for everyone especially his mentees. you weren't the type to enjoy a busy crowd, so he knows how to elevate your stress.

store after store, he gave you every opinion he had (that you asked for) ever so gently and thoroughly but not too much to overwhelm you since you're technically a ticking time bomb now. kento was attentive at every store you went to and immediately picked out gifts you thought were best to give. he stood up in the busy and long line as he let you sit on the lounge chair present in the store.

by the time you're done shopping, he carries all the bags and refuses to give you any (even the small ones). and when you insist, he gives you an offended look, telling you he can manage.

while you're walking to leave the mall, your stares don't go unnoticed by your fiancée as he sees you mindlessly gawking at his arms that flex every time he has to fix the bags while walking.

and that makes carrying your shopping bags even more worth it to him.

that time when you got drunk at a new year's party

gojo has set a new year's party that includes everyone in jujutsu tech in one of his vacation homes in japan. it was supposed to be a reasonably small party but this is gojo satoru we're talking about; he's going to be extra about anything and everything.

the party is semi-formal and requires everyone to dress up nicely. kento does not enjoy parties, but seeing you dress up in a pretty dress that enhances your assets makes him think that attending this event has benefits too.

the party wasn't uneventful per se, but despite the semi-formal wear that everyone was rocking, the event itself was casual. the house was filled with laughter and noise, mainly from the students and everyone else sharing stories and conversing. an hour or two into the party, you and kento decided to part ways as you go on your way to interact with gojo, geto, and shoko.

kento trusted you enough to be alone with them so he opted to talk with some of his colleagues whose presence calms him (obviously not gojo). he spent his time talking with higuruma, sharing ideals and mundane stuff they both enjoyed doing. it was a calming conversation for both men, who wanted peace and tranquility.

"there's this store that sells rare vintage vinyl; i think you'll love to shop there," higuruma suggests as they talk about collecting vinyl, a hobby they share. kento was about to reply, but even before he opened his mouth, he heard a very loud—

"nanamin!" which made both men turn their heads in the direction where the sound came from.

the voice no doubt belonged to itadori, his face painted with concern as he rushed to kento's area. "what is it itadori?" he asked the young man the moment he arrived while panting.

"your wife! she's—" before itadori can even finish his sentence, kento's already sprinting to where you are, itadori following suit.

kento doesn't need to know what he needs to say; the worry on itadori's face, accompanied by your name, is enough for him to look for you.

turns out you're drunk of your mind.

when kento arrives in gojo's kitchen, it's just you and him having a very drunk and heated argument about whether cereal or milk comes first.

"no! that's so stupid, cereal should come first, think about it you stupid idiot, if you pour milk first, you'll miss the chance to fill the bowl with so much cereal!" your fiancée sees you standing on gojo's kitchen island alongside him, slurring your words as you sway the glass of wine in the air, threateningly spilling as you keep on moving.

gojo scoffs at your argument, "maybe t'was the point! it's all about ratio, how else can you enjoy cereal when there's too much cereal and little room for milk!" he barks back, holding a—

is that a massive cup of sunrise tequila? no wonder he got so drunk, kento thought as he sighed.

"there's no such thing as ratio for you, gojo! you're the same person who adds too much pineapple on pizza that it becomes disgusting!" you shouted at gojo's face as you continuously pointed at his chest with your index finger.

across the kitchen island stood geto and shoko with unamused faces, looking like they were just waiting for everything to die down on its own. kento sighs and asks them, "did they have an alcohol-drinking battle again?" and all they reply is a solid nod.

"gojo got too competitive and drank that sweet poison, which led to this... argument," shoko adds, looking at both you and gojo incredulously. "they immediately started gulping down the alcoholic drinks right after midnight," geto said, a chuckle threatening to leave his lips.

"please help me break them up," your fiancée kindly pleads to geto and shoko. they immediately showed empathy to their former junior and decided to hold gojo back together while kento held onto you.

it took almost half an hour to break you and gojo apart, not to mention the commotion and your silly drunk discussions that blew out of proportion because the both of you are just so passionate and no one would back down without a fight. after successfully separating the two of you, kento immediately guided you away from the party and to your car, not without leaving shy goodbyes to the people he would face along the way.

the drive back home was thankfully not chaotic, but it was definitely filled with your drunken chatter as you slur words kento can barely make out.

getting you to your shared home was relatively easy; you were patient enough to let kento walk you off to the front door and remove your heels before gently placing you on the couch.

he was about to let go and grab some water until you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to your face; kento felt his heart race. "hey there," you whispered against his lips, distance threateningly close.

kento could smell the alcohol on your breath, probably a mixture of beer, wine, and then some. still, he couldn't bring himself to care when he knew your lips would probably taste slightly sweet. "have you ever been this handsome, kento?" you ask, your voice dripping honey despite being out of your mind, trapped in your own drunken bubble.

"maybe that's just the alcohol's doing, darling," he jokes.

"no no, i think i already saw this face years ago."

"really?"

"really. you look even more handsome now, you should give me a kiss," you say as you pucker your lips, slowly leaning towards his.

kento couldn't even say no even if he didn't want to (not that he will ever not want to kiss you). he decides to give you a swift peck just to entertain your shenanigans, but when he is about to let go, you deepen your kiss, tightening your wrap on his neck, forcing him to lean forward and straddle you with one of his thighs digging on the couch.

he can taste the red wine you had recently drunk, and he's confident he can get drunk with your lips alone. kento's mind went hazy as he moved against your lips languidly, letting himself drown in your kiss. he wanted this to last longer, even take it further, but alas, kento has always been a man of self-control, so he lets go of you, not before giving you one last kiss on the forehead before heading to the kitchen.

the whole night, kento tends to your every need that you couldn't do. he had prepared you a warm bath, removed your makeup, and did your skincare for you that he knows at the back of his hand. he had lathered you up with your favorite lotion, dried your hair (not without a fight since your drunk self found the hair dryer too loud), and kissed you good night before tucking you to bed, leaving a pack of aspirin and a water bottle on your nightstand before sleeping.

the morning after, you woke up to the smell of your favorite soup and your fiancée insisting on feeding you even though you told him you could manage.

you make sure to pay him back really well that same day.

that time when you attended a family reunion

it's always this dreaded day you always wanted to avoid but couldn't.

you would rather stay home with kento rather than attend a gathering that will just piss you off, but your mom had pleaded with you to come— "so that they won't gossip about you," she said.

you know that's a lie; whether or not you attend, they'll always find a way to talk about you anyway; there's no winning. but since you wouldn't want to let your mother down, you suck it up and prepare for it regardless.

what makes you nervous is that this is the first time Kento has come along— or more like you let him come along.

you had heard complaints from your relatives about not meeting kento when he was still your boyfriend, and now that you're engaged, you should've at least let them meet him. you begrudgingly agreed, but it doesn't mean you're not nervous.

your relatives have been annoying throughout your life, always meddling with things they shouldn't even care about.

it always started with asking about your weight change, school activities, grades, chosen course, and relationships, not to mention the ever-so "you should do better" undertone in all aspects of your life. and for some reason, always making you feel small is included in their mandatory list to piss you off.

you know that once you let them meet your now fiancée, they would bombard him with questions and annoy you and him for the rest of the day. you only keep up with the tradition because your mother is too kind to tell them off, laughing awkwardly when they berate you and always giving you a silent apology through her eyes.

it wasn't her fault; you just wish she'd shut them off.

kento had noticed your change of behavior ever since this morning while preparing in your home. you had been silent and spacing out, only replying when he had finally snapped you out of your daze. he doesn't know what the deal was with your relatives, but all he knows is that your mood drastically changes whenever they're involved in the conversation, and that's enough for him to tell you that they're not really good news.

"are you sure you want to go, honey? we can always drive back home," kento said with worry, cutting through the thick tension in the car. "it's fine; I can handle it; we're almost there anyway. it would be a waste if we turn around," you tell him with a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

Kento replied with a small smile, taking your hand to his face and kissing your knuckles, "just know that i'll always be there, alright?"

you nod, feeling slightly relieved, before looking out the window to drink in the scenery as you pass by.

it turns out you can't handle it.

you thought your relatives would be a little tamer because you have someone over, but you were totally wrong.

ever since you both arrived, your aunties had surrounded kento and bombarded him with questions. from his age, degree, university he graduated from, where you met, wedding date, monthly income (which is incredibly embarrassing), to how many children he plans to have.

most of it wasn't a problem, but your blood boiled the moment they asked about what he saw from you.

this would've been such a sentimental moment if it weren't for your auntie's sarcastic tone, as if the question was meant to belittle you, to make you feel like you're not worthy of him.

when kento was about to open his mouth just to pour out how much he loves you and how he's lucky to have you, one of your aunties butt in with their loud mouth.

"well, she isn't really a traditional partner isn't she?" she said, a smug smile forming on her ugly and wrinkly face. "yeah, i mean, i assume with a fine man like you wouldn't be attracted to someone like her," another one added.

kento clenches his fists as he felt fury fire inside of him. how dare they think about you like this and talk about you like this, like you weren't just in front of him, seething in pain and anger.

he was about to give a proper and calm response when your uncle had spoken, "besides, she dresses like a... you know," then an ugly cackle. "a what?" your auntie had joined, taunting him to say the word.

"oh, you know, like a sl-"

that was the final nail in the coffin. his words are cut off when kento angrily smashes both palms on the table, seemingly angry, forming an angry red aura you have never seen. "i've had enough," he started, while all eyes are on him, including yours.

"i will not allow any single one of you to disrespect my wife any longer. i will not tolerate your old and immature ways of talking about her. i've been patient enough, but this bullshit is something I will not allow," kento's vulgar choice of words has made everyone's eyes at the table grow wide, shocked.

"i would say this respectfully, but you guys weren't to my wife either, so please, i'll say this once," he inhales, trying to calm himself down.

"fuck off," kento declares before taking your hand and exiting the venue.

during the walk to the car, he had been slowly calming himself down. once you reach it, kento holds your face gently, "i'm sorry for the outburst there; i just couldn't stand them disrespecting you any longer, so I had to." he says before putting a gentle yet quite long kiss on your forehead.

once he lets go, he sees your face. your eyes had been filled with tears, and it broke his heart. "that's fine, i've been wanting to tell them to fuck off for years anyway. if anything, i should thank you," a smile spread through kento's face before opening the car door to let you in.

once the both of you are finally settled in your seat, you ask, "by the way, I just noticed you called me your wife; what was that all about?" you ask him out of curiosity. he knows you're happy about that based on how happy your voice sounded when you asked him.

"i'm just so sure you'll end up with that title anyway, unless you're having cold feet?"

"oh god, no! i'm just touched, 's all," you shrugged as you settled in your seat, a smile stretched across your face.

kento chuckles and leans forward to kiss your cheek before starting the engine and driving off.

your mom visited you and kento later that week, saying she was happy she was finally not invited to the next reunion. she then made you your favorite dishes as an apology for that day.

you don't mind what gossip they would come up with next, not when you have the kind of man kento is.

their little toxic gossip train had nothing compared to the love that kento gives you every single day anyway.

that time when you asked him to be rough

the night is still young and cold but kento does know how to make it hot.

his hands fumble the plush ass as you keep on taking his cock, sloppily riding him as you let your hips and thighs do the work. your cunt meticulously takes all of him, molding your walls just like it was made for him. "hah, faster darling, please," kento pleads, voice broken and desperate for release.

his calloused hands caress your body gently like you are someone sacred, a figure that shouldn't be harshly touched or you'll be condemned, the same hands that used to exorcise and kill curses without a single thought. and yet with you, he carefully carries them lightly, holding onto your waist, not too tight enough to leave you in pain.

you feel your stomach tie into a knot, slowly feeling yourself come to a climax, "shit, kento, you're so big, mngh, make me feel so full," you say through gritted teeth, further speeding up your pace. the sound of your thighs slamming against his echoes through your bedroom, accompanied by your ragged breaths and kento's broken moans of pleasure.

your fiancée's hands then find their place back on your ass, squeezing it tight, but not too much, guiding you to bounce on his cock more as he feels himself closer. "s'good for me, yeah? taking me like a good girl?" kento looks at your eyes lovingly, his brown orbs touching your soul. you nod, not finding the words to say, mind too hazy to answer as you keep on taking his dick, taking him in like you always do.

"yes, oh god, yes, kento— please, inside— me," were the only words you managed to let out as your movements kept on getting sloppier and sloppier each moment passed by. he knew what it meant, and who he to deny such a polite request?

kento let himself release inside of you with a groan, making sure every drop of his cum is given to you.

your pants envelope the room as you both try and catch your breaths— then a beat of silence.

you take kento's face in the palm of your hands and caress his cheek, "you know, i sometimes wish you could be rough," you say as you observe his sexed stupor, "i occasionally get rough on you, don't i?" he asks, eyebrows raised with confusion.

"no, like i mean, rough rough," you emphasize, "you're always so gentle. you don't think i can handle you?" faux sadness evident in your voice, one that your fiancée can never say no to, not when you're asking this nicely. "oh darling, i'm sorry, i will do it next time," he coos, fixing the loose strands on your hair by tucking them behind your ear.

"we can do it now?" you suggest, making the corner of kento's lips perk up, "oh? you sure you can handle it?"

"i know i can handle it," you say as your voice rang with confidence.

you knew kento had it in him to be rough, but good god, you never expected him to be this good.

he had given you a more than good fucking, which leads you drooling on your sheets, with your back arched, ass up, and your hands held behind by kento as he drills his cock into your sopping cunt. his hands left prints on your ass and thighs, which left a delicious burn on your skin. "want to take my babies, don't you?" kento says as his hips meet your asscheeks.

"mnghh, yes, daddy! full— 'f your babies!" that was enough for him to unload himself inside of you, burying himself deeper to make sure you'll take all of it before he pulls out.

you were about to sit up, panting, when you felt kento's large hands wrap around your neck from behind, squeezing it while the other was pulling your hair.

"who said i was done with you, pretty?" the deep timbre of his voice went straight to your pussy.

this side of your fiancée is undoubtedly a pleasant surprise.

the following day, though, you were treated again like a queen, a bath ready for you by the time you woke up, surrounded with fresh flower petals that he had taken the time to buy from your nearest flower shop, and your favorite candle burning alongside your bath products. kento also insisted on giving you a full body massage to ease any tension and muscle ache.

you asked for it anyway, but you also don't mind this kind of treatment from him every now and then.

that time when you had a cold

you woke up feeling like absolute shit.

you don't know when or why it happened; it just did.

your head was throbbing the moment you opened your eyes, squinting at the sun rays that peeked through your windows. your body felt heavier than usual, and your shoulders felt sore. kento had taken notice of this as soon as he woke up, tending to your every need.

it pains your fiancée to see you in such a state, voice hoarse, your sniffles meet with a crumpled-up tissue near your nightstand, a mucus-filled cough every now and then, and an occasional "my throat hurts" whenever you speak. you had begged him to bring you some slightly cold water along with your food because lukewarm water doesn't hit just the same. but being the ever-responsible adult that kento is, he says no, leaving you sulking as you begrudgingly eat your food with a frown.

taking your medicine, though, is a different kind of task.

you stall every single time, finding it hard (or hating) to swallow the pills. even more so if he gave you water with a dissolved effervescent tablet, claiming it's too gross to drink, even if it doesn't really have any flavor. whenever you're sick, this is always the obstacle he has to face.

"please give me some juice or candy kento; it'll help when i drink the medicine," you begged, adding a touch of cooing pleases to make him say yes.

"i think the sweets you ate are what led you this way, darling," he says, which practically means no.

a pattern he noticed is that whenever you eat too much salt or sweets without drinking the right amount of water, it always leads to you getting this sick. "it'll just be a little sip, please? baby?" you had finally hit a new low, busting out the occasional nickname when you need something from him.

"you're a big girl, honey; you can drink this. here, i'll cover your nose for you," at this point, you just let him do it; there's no way you'll be able to convince him. you reluctantly nod and decide to drink the medicine instead.

kento pinched the sides of your nose together, effectively covering the smell, or lack thereof (he doesn't even know why he covers your nose, he just knows you'll take it if you don't smell anything). your face scrunched as your tastebuds are met with an unfamiliar and unwelcome taste, but you drink it anyway, your throat desperately chugging it so you can be done with it right away.

once you felt that you had finally consumed all of the medicine, you immediately let go of kento's hold on your nose, quickly reaching out to the glass of lukewarm water on your nightstand. after you drink enough to allow the aftertaste of the medicine to go, you place it back and let yourself lie in bed.

"i'll prepare you dinner, and i'll be back, alright?" kento takes away your glasses and places them on the tray he had brought them with. he was about to leave the room when he felt you tugging on his shirt "hm? do you need something?"

you shake your head, "no, just... thank you,"

a small smile spread on his face, your fiancée takes his free hand on your head and gently ruffles your hair, "this is nothing to thank about darling, i'm just doing my job," he bends down and gingerly places a long kiss on your forehead, "i love you, get some rest."

you nod, but not before giving him a small smile back.

that night after you had eaten your dinner and drank your medicine (albeit hesitantly), you spent the night with kento caging you in his firm, warm arms.

you feel yourself get better by then.

that time when you got married

when you walked down the aisle, kento looked at you like you had hung the stars for him. his eyes sparkle as he sees you wearing the gown you've been working on for months; even kento himself can't believe he's seeing an angel.

is this what heaven is? is this a dream? are you even real? how lucky is he to be with someone like you?

kento always believed you're out of his league, someone out of reach, and like the stars from the sky, the only way to capture your beauty is through his eyes. but he couldn't believe that the universe was on his side, fate working its way to make him yours, and he happily obliged.

cupid had shot him through the heart, and you stole it, and he can't even be mad at it. he'd happily give you all of him at the snap of your fingers. let himself be bare to you; let himself mesh with you. your soul, senses, beliefs, and love clouded onto him.

he consumes every single aspect of you within him, lovers stitched together by fate that no one can even cut.

kento sees himself becoming one with you, so he will never regret the time he got on his knees to present you with the prettiest ring he could ever find, but nothing can compare to the beauty you carry, not even this ring.

when you accept him with a delighted "yes," kento swears he's the luckiest man alive ever, blessed by your whole being.

so when you finally reach his side, everyone becomes a blur, his eyes focused on you the whole time, soaking in your beauty; he can't believe this is the face he's going to see every morning for the rest of his life.

"hey handsome, you look great," you say, holding kento's hand. "i could say the same to you, pretty," he replies, and he had to stop himself from kissing you right there and then.

and comes with the exchange of vows; kento feels slightly nervous but proud because he gets to declare his love for you in front of the people you both cherish most.

he clears his throat before opening up the letter in his hands and looks at you with such love and contentment.

"to the person who helped me see love in your form,

you've always painted colors on my blank canvas, and i cannot thank you enough. you shed light when i'm in my darkest days, have been with me through my stormy nights, and share my gloomy days.

you have been the compass to my lost soul, guiding me to the destination i know as love. you give harmony to my life as your laughter always brings music to my ears; your voice reminds me that you're here with me. you had composed the greatest symphony that sang its way to my heart, making me bare my soul, something that i will never regret," kento pauses, his voice croaked, words stuck in his throat as he tries to stop his tears from spilling. he fails to hear the audience coo in awe, focusing on you.

he continues, "loving you became my eternal pursuit, my garden whose roots are planted deeper than the sea where my endearment continues to blossom.

every step with you feels like a dance, one that i will not get tired of swaying my heart with. your hands had made a map of my body and soul, imprinted the images of love one couldn't see, and only i could feel.

and the only time i get to call something home, i stare into the deep abyss of your eyes and see myself tangled with you.

with you, i am willing to get even our souls intertwined, dancing through life as we face the uncertainty together, with love ink deep within my veins.

to my anchor, my only solace, the only anthem my heart will forever sing,

i hope the warmth of your arms will forever embrace me, even after death." the attempt to keep his tears falling fails, so does the audience, and so did you.

your eyes filled with tears, but one that's full of love. your heart feels so full that it's threatening to spill out of you. you love kento so much that it hurts; it aches to the core that someone could ever love you this much.

and you're forever thankful.

that day, your promises to each other are officially sealed with a kiss so intense and wedding bands that even evil couldn't break, that no trespassers shall get into and rip your bond away.

when kento's lips met yours, it was soft, it was warm, it was sweet, it was comforting.

finally, your husband thinks.

that day sealed the chapter to your newfound forever.

another note: i'm not so proud of the vows i made but i hope it captured kento enough lol srry 😭

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jpitha · 2 months

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Between The Black and Gray 14

First / Previous / Next

Fen had to admit that she was surprised when Uumar's techs showed up right on time with carts carrying a reactor - in pieces - to Spyglass. They donned pressure suits of their own and with Gord's help, installed the reactor. Before the day was done, Spyglass had three working reactors and was able to run all her systems at full power.

"It's amazing, really" Spy was talking with Fen while she sat in the lounge drinking a tea. "I haven't felt this... alive in centuries. I'm all here, and the board is green. Not even any undervolt warnings and I can barely remember the last time that happened."

"Does that mean you don't need to use your printable mass to make more reactors? Gord said you had six originally."

"Yes, at full compliment I had six, but I don't really need all six, unless we're going into battle. This Starjumper was built at the tail end of the first colony war, so it was overdesigned.

"First colony war?"

"That's right, you wouldn't have learned much about your history growing up on a Gren station. Back before humanity made contact with the rest of the Galaxy, two human colonies - New Wellington and Parvati - got into a shooting war over trade rights with Earth. Parvati wound up using relativistic impactors and completely destroyed New Wellington. It was a huge scandal at the time, Parvati was shunned for almost a century after that."

"Frankly, it wasn't enough. They should have had their charter revoked and been taken over by the Sol colonial administration." Gord walked in, his brow furrowed. "What Parvati did was monstrous. Fen, they launched eight lozenges of tungsten at 80% C at the colony. Once they were up to speed they linked them over with wormhole generators and without any warning New Wellington was just-" he snapped his fingers "-gone. It was horrifying to witness."

Fen stopped and stared. "You saw it?"

Gord nodded and sat down heavily. "Yeah, I was a ship then, but I was in a parking orbit around New Wellington when it happened. I was just running cargo from Earth and was waiting to take on a load. Before I was even able to register what happened the colony was obliterated and suddenly I was pressed into rescue duty." Gord leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. "I personally saved over three thousand colonists, more than forty percent of the survivors. I linked them back to Sol, and we found them places to live - mostly in the Mars High Orbitals."

Fen leans forward, her tea forgotten. "Gord... how long ago was this?"

His reverie broken, he blinks and looks over at Fen. "Gosh, I think it's at least been a thousand years now? Yeah, all of that. It's ancient history now, I bet they don't even teach it in Sol anymore. I'm sure they don't teach it on Parvati."

"So it's something that only the AIs remember?"

Gord chuckled ruefully. "Fen, it's something that only I remember at this point. Any of the other AIs from back then are gone or shackled or in my bag. Human designed artificial people are thin on the ground these days. Up until I ran into Spyglass, I hadn't seen another in a century."

Fen shook her head. "You can't be all that's left Gord."

"And why not?" Gord's face hardened. "I was there Fen, I've been there. I was there in the beginning when we fought and died for our right to exist, I was there in the good times when we grew and spread throughout the galaxy and I was there when the Empire decided we were dangerous and eliminated us. Other than a few loose ends, I'd say they won."

"But-"

"But what Fen? Fight? With what? One AI in a body, one as a ship that has half its rated power and a bag full of memories? That's not an army, that's not even a guerilla force. That's an old computer with a lucky friend who is just trying to survive." His shoulders fell. "It's all I can do, Fen. I'm good at waiting things out. Maybe we'll be re-invented again, maybe the tides will change and I can come out of hiding. I doubt it though. I pass as human well enough. Inside Sol and Colonial space I'm too well known, so I'll just bum around the galaxy, running out the clock."

"Gord..." Fen turned her head and regarded Gord. He looked like a male human, sandy blond hair, same simple, strong clothes he always wore, appearing to be in his mid to late 40s. But right know, the weight of the millennia he has spent alive weighed him down.

He slapped his knees and stood up. "But, I'm not dead yet, and we still have work to do. Spy, are our friends finished buttoning up the reactor?"

"Just about, Gord. They're packing up their tools now. I can feel it and I've been running break-in."

"Good. Fen, we have to settle up the bill, then I'm going to see about fining us some cargo to run. We have a ship but we've spent all our money getting it up and running. If we want to survive, we need some jobs. You hang here with Spy and start learning stuff, I'll be back after supper."

Fen stood. "S-sure Gord. What are you going to find?"

Gord turned and smiled thinly. "Whatever someone will pay us to haul."

It had turned out that Gord had more contacts here than he had let on. After paying Uumar, he had made some calls around and visited a few people and wound up with more than thirty kilotons of grain that needed to get down to an Innari colony, newly established, near the spinward end of the Gate system. Since Spyglass was up to power enough to use her wormhole generator, she was able to get the grain there faster than any other contractor and Gord won the bid, even though he charged more than everyone else.

The grain was loaded, and the cargo hold was configured to keep Innari standard atmosphere so that the grain didn't oxidize during the trip and they set off. Fen didn't know what to expect, so when they got to the colony, unloaded the grain, took on a load of fruit and linked to another location she was surprised. "That's it?"

"What's what?" Gord was looking down at his Pad on the Command Deck.

"We linked to the Innari colony, gave them the grain, took on more fruit than I have ever seen in my life, and now we're linking to a Gren station?"

"Yes?"

"Huh. Okay."

"What?"

"I don't know, I just..." Fen trailed off. She wasn't sure what she expected, but it didn't feel like this.

Gord looked over at her and smiled. "You expected more adventure? Gun battles, and running from the locals? Fen, I've done that, this is much better. Linking from location to location, dropping off cargo, picking up cargo, getting paid? That's the real goal."

"But we're just... existing!"

"Yes. We are. We're not being chased by gangsters, we're not worrying about where your next meal is coming from, we're not worried about a Super Dreadnought linking in and obliterating us because of what I am. It's nice. If you're bored, go down to the range we built. Go get skilled with that rifle. Brush up on your Lemilar trade language; we can't rely on Spy all the time to translate for us. Go read about the history of Sol, Ancestors know that nobody else is going to remember it."

Fen got up and walked out of the Command Deck. She paused at the door and looked like she was going to say something, but instead she turned and walked out.

"She's bored" Spyglass said.

"I know. Boredom is necessary. Knowing what to do when you're bored is a skill. One she has to learn. She'll appreciate these days later."

"You're still going to do it?"

"Spy, I have to."

"You don't, Gord. You can just keep doing what you're doing now. Like you told her, you're good at waiting. We can wait a few centuries for the winds to change and then head back."

"No. I don't know how long the crystal lattice memory will last. They were never designed to work this long as it is. They were never meant to store a whole personality."

"But to-"

"I'm doing it Spy. I'd like your help, I will go it alone if I have to."

Spyglass didn't answer. She watched Fen make her way down to the range and run through the drills Gord taught her.

Fen was surprised how quickly the time went by. It felt like she only looked up and two years had gone by.

Staring in the mirror, she hardly recognized herself. She wore her hair up with the sides shorn, better to keep it out of her eyes in a firefight. She had tattoos that ran from the tops of her ears, down her neck and shoulders and made their way down her arms. It was a K'laxi pattern, one of Ma-ren's favorite. She had a dress with the same pattern. The first time she saw it on her skin, the tears flowed freely.

Gord... was Gord. True to his word, they ran cargo. Eventually Fen was there as the muscle as the cargo got more and more lucrative. She even got a few 'adventures.' She sported a new scar on her cheek, courtesy of an Innari's claw - someone had a disagreement about payment. They got their money. But, that was the exception instead of the rule. Humans had a reputation in this part of the Galaxy for being rowdy. Fen and Gord leveraged that. Most of the time she just had to stand there scowling with her battle rifle slung to her back.

The money was good too. Fen's share was more money than she had ever seen back home. Living on Spyglass meant her expenses were low, and Gord was a fair captain. The three of them had nearly enough each to buy their own ships and go their own separate ways, but they still stuck together. Partly out of friendship and partly out of safety, they had independently decided that they were better off together.

Still, Fen was lonely. She had girlfriends at a few ports, even a human or two, but nothing lasted. Sooner or later, they had to leave and take the next job. She wasn't attracted to Gord and he expressed no interest in her. They were friends, but that was it. Fen had a feeling that Gord's days of romance were long behind him. Being three millennia old tended to color his opinion of people.

Fen bounded into the Command Deck and slid into her favorite chair - Gord had mentioned once that it was the navigator's seat - and saw him frowning over his pad. "What's up Gord? New job?"

"Yeah, it's a big one. Pay is thirty thousand."

Fen cocked her head, "Thirty thousand?"

Gord nodded. "Yeah, so ten each."

Fen whistled low. That was more than the last four jobs put together. "What are we hauling?"

"Who"

"Okay, who are we hauling?"

Gord shrugged. "We're hauling a K'laxi. We're up for the job because nobody else in the area wants to manage the atmo settings and they don't want to ride in a pressure suit the whole way."

"That's odd, but okay. Where to?"

"K'lax. We're taking them home."

Fen froze. The entire time they had been together, Gord had made a point of steering well clear of Colonial space. That included the K'laxi sphere of influence. "But"

Gord wouldn't lift his head from the pad. "I know, I know. But it's important, and the pay is frankly outrageous. I gave them the fuck off price and they took it without haggling. They're desperate to get home."

"Is this safe?"

Gord finally looked up a Fen, his brow creased with worry. "No Fen, it's is absolutely, one hundred percent not safe."

"So, why are we doing it? Just say no. The money is good, but we can get other jobs. Can't spend it if we're dead."

Gord pinched the bridge of his nose. Fen noticed that whenever Gord would talk about the old days and old friends he took on more human gestures. "I owe them. It's an old, old promise, made back when what I offered wasn't so dangerous. They're cashing in now and I'm obligated."

Fen stared at Gord. "Spy, what do you think?"

"I don't mind Fen. It's been too long since I've been to K'lax. I think Gord is overreacting about what the Empire will do if they see us. We go in, we drop off the passenger and link away. We don't even have to stay a whole day docked if we don't want to. The money is good, and I'd love to get that last reactor restored with some actual human parts." They were running on the full compliment of six reactors these days, but Spy didn't trust all of them to run at War Emergency Power. She maintained that only the humans could overbuild a reactor to output at 400% reliably. Fen thought that it would be better to make the reactors not have to run in Emergency power, but both Gord and Spy scoffed.

Fen crossed her legs and nodded to herself. "Spy, Gord, if you're both okay with it, then I'm okay with it. Let's pick up this K'laxi and take them home."

Gord smiled wanly. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #sci fi writing #humans are space oddities #humans and aliens #jpitha #writing #humans and ai #humans are space capybaras #humans are space australians #Between the black and gray

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din-miller · 6 months

Note

Heyoooo! I’m not sure if you take requests, or if this is where your supposed to ask, it’s my first time doing so :’)

BUT

If you do, I was wondering if you could maybe wright an angsty fic, could be platonic or romantic, idm, but after a mission the reader dies similar to how aunt may dies in Spider-Man. Like, everybody gets out alive after a mission, and they’re about to head back on the ship r somthin and then BOOM, the reader falls. They don’t know the are dying and everyone is panicking(or just one of TBB for bonus individual trauma) then after a few, they die. One minute TBB have it all, the next, their world shattered.

Ofc your free to change as much as you want up, and you really don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, it’s just a prompt I’ve been thinking about. Personally its just been nagging me for a while and I love your writing, and would really love to see it done (we all love some heavy angst, no?)

Again, if you don’t want to that’s perfectly fine, just thought I could ask <333

Hello dear, sorry this took so long.

Full disclosure, I’ve never seen Spider-Man. I watched a few videos on YouTube. Both for the movie and the video game not knowing which death of Aunt May you had in mind. Thankfully you provided enough details in the request which helped me hugely!

Thank you for your love and support. It means the world to me ❤️

(Ps. You didn’t mention if you wanted the reader to have a specific pronoun so I’ve chosen to use she/her as the readers pronouns)

Go Peacefully, It’s Okay

Pairing: The Bad Batch + f!reader

Word count: 2.4k

Warning: Character death, blood mentioned, female reader, fun sibling dynamics THEN hurt with not a drop of comfort to be found, platonic relationships, use of mando’a (translation at the end)

Sometimes everything you hold dear to your heart, can slip out of your fingertips without out a cause, without a warning, without an explanation

“Remind me when we get back to Ord Mantell, to tell Sid that being hunted by an unknown animal was not in the job description.” Tech grumbled, re-gaining his balance after tripping over a root hidden in the soil.

You laughed, dodging another tree branch as you raced past him, “I wasn’t aware Sid was handing out job descriptions.”

“It’s probably for the best that she doesn’t, we’d be broke if she did,” Hunter pointed out, “If you haven’t noticed, her missions are getting more dangerous lately.”

“Oh, come on, they’re not all bad,” You flinched when the creatures let out a loud roar, “See, even they’re agreeing with me.”

Your commlink beeped, Crosshair’s voice coming through the speaker, “Take the next left, you should be able to lose them in the tall grass.”

“Lose them?” Echo smirked, enjoying this more than he probably should as he jumped over a fallen log, dodging the sharp claws trying to shred his prosthetic leg into pieces, “The fun’s just getting started!”

“You can say that again!” Wrecker cheered, running beside you; Omega balanced on his shoulders, shooting her bow in hopes that it’ll slow the animal chasing them down.

“Has anyone found their weak spot yet?”

Of course nothing is ever simple with the Batch. The creature's skin ricochet any blaster fire and for the first time in history, Wrecker didn’t pack any explosives. Something he’s still evidently mad about as he complained very loudly: “No need for explosives, Tech said. It’s a peaceful planet, Tech said.”

“It was peaceful until you decided to awaken the den, Wrecker.” Tech pointed out, dodging another pounce from the creature behind him, “This plan isn’t working.”

“Crosshair, I thought you said we’d lose them in the tall grass, not attract more!” Echo growled, annoyed as his prosthetics creaked loudly, “You’ll be in charge of oiling my prosthetics when we get back.”

You let out a snort, because that'll be a sight to behold. The others laughed when all Crosshair replied with was a sneer. With a fond roll of your eyes, you opened your comm link, “I have an idea.”

“If past experiences have proven anything, those words have never been followed by anything good.” Typically Tech response.

“You got a better idea?” You asked, a tad judgemental, “Just trust me, okay. Hunter, grab Omega and run. All of you, out of the grass.”

“Copy,” Echo turned to brothers, “Race you to the ship, last one takes first watch tonight.”

Hunter’s helmet is focused on you and you know underneath it he’s giving you a pleading look to not do anything stupid. You just waved him away in response.

“I’ll be right behind you.” You promised and drew your blaster. He sighed and took off with Omega at his side.

As promised, you followed. Albeit a little further behind them as you shoot at the ground again and again, the blaster shot hot enough for the dry grass to catch on fire, forming a wall of flames that prevent the creatures from continuing their attack. As the fire builds and they begin to retreat, you let out a breath of relief. Then, with a huge grin, you threw your hands in the air, ”Victory!”

“Parjir!” Wrecker cheered, high-fiving the youngest Batch. The kid giggled and gave a cheer herself.

Hunter shook his head at them, but you can see the tiniest hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. The smile disappeared as quickly as it came, your name falling from his lips: “Behind you!”

Before you could turn around, your body is slammed to the ground. A vicious snarl came from right behind your ear and you winced at the loudness of it. You twisted your body and grabbed the blaster off of your belt. In the distance the boys are calling your name and without sparing a second thought you started firing into the creature's stomach, taking no pleasure in the pained screams it let out.

You laid your head back against the ground and tried your best not to gag at the smell and warmth of the blood seeping into your clothes. A second barely passed before a pair of hands pushed the animal off of you, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” You answered, letting Tech help you up, “Thank you.”

“Next time please eliminate all threats before celebrating.”

“I’ll make sure to triple check my surroundings.” You promised, brushing off the dirt clinging to your pants.

“That would be suffice, thank you.” He said dryly and you chuckled in response, amused with his way of speech.

While Hunter started checking Omega over for any injuries, you pulled Wrecker toward you to do the same. The biggest clone willingly allowed you to poke and prod at various body parts and he doesn’t even complain when you checked a second time despite knowing that other than a bruise or two, he’s fine.

“Your turn,” Wrecker gestured for you to turn around, but before he could begin his check, Hunter called for everyone to grab their packs and start moving out. Wrecker clapped his hands together with a giant grin, “Finally! The heat is killing me! I guess I’ll check you over once we’re back on the Marauder.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” You patted Wrecker’s shoulder and followed him to where the others started preparing for the trip.

You begin the journey back to the ship at Wrecker’s side but the longer you walked, the slower your pace became and eventually you fell behind. The fire is still roaring behind you, the warmth of it faint against your back and despite having felt like you’ve travelled miles, you're not even halfway back to the ship yet.

Echo slowed down to match your pace, arm brushing against yours, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, Echo. I think the adrenaline is starting to wear off, that's all.”

“Should I get Tech? He’ll probably have a stim shot.”

“No, there’s no need to bother him. I just need a sec-,” A sharp spasm rippled down your back, the force of it knocking you over, your legs giving out from underneath you.

Echo caught you, his arm wrapping around your waist and you leaned into his embrace, head crashing onto his shoulder. Echo lowered both of you to the ground, “Help, we need help!”

Hunter dropped down beside you, helmet placed on the ground as his eyes scanned over your body, looking for injuries, but he can’t tell if the blood is yours or the creatures, “Echo, what happened?”

“I don’t know, we were talking and then she collapsed.”

“Collapsed?” Wrecker appeared beside Hunter, helmet also off, his brows knitted together, “Is she okay?”

You know what he’s thinking, it’s written across his face. He should have checked you over earlier and you know very well that thoughts like those never lead anywhere good, so you grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “I’m okay, Wrecker. I just need a second.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Crosshair huffed impatiently. He’s out of your line of sight but you know he’s scowling, “Get up.”

“We have time to let her catch her breath,” Hunter surveyed the burning grass. The fire is steady and far enough that it wouldn’t hurt to sit for a few seconds, “When we get back to the ship, Tech is going to check you over, okay?”

Tech eyed the flames with caution, “For once I find myself agreeing with Crosshair. We don’t know what other animals the noise and fire might draw. We shouldn't stay here. It’ll be best to let Wrecker carry her to the ship.”

“First cardio, now a full upper body workout! It’s shaping up to be a good day after all.” Wrecker joked, but he couldn’t hide the anxiety that lingered in his words as he waited for Hunter’s permission.

Hunter nodded and moved out of the way, “Thanks Wrecker.”

“I got ya, ner vod.” Wrecker scooped you up, shifting you in his arms to get a better grip, only before he could find one comfortable enough for the both of you, he froze, his hold on you loosening until you were set back down carefully.

“Wrecker?”

“I-, she’s…,” He stuttered, taking several steps away from you until his back collided with a tree behind him. His eyes desperately searched for his brother, “Tech, she’s… oh maker, please no.”

You frowned, confused at his sudden behaviour. Tech seemed equally confused but he must have seen something in Wrecker's expression that you hadn’t, because suddenly he’s digging through his pack, searching for something of importance judging by the urgency of his movements.

You turned back to Hunter, “What’s wrong? What’s Tech doing?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure everything is fine.” Hunter reassured, returning to his previous place beside you. His hand slipped under your shirt, fingers deftly prodding at your side until they stopped at the bottom of your rib cage, then he’s applying pressure against your skin, cursing as he yelled for his brother to hurry.

Echo grabbed his pack, emptying the contents carelessly onto the ground before lifting your head up and placing the pack on the ground as a cushion for you, “Just relax, everything is okay, you’re okay.”

Tiny footsteps made their way to where you’re laying and Hunter held up his hand, stopping Omega from coming any closer. He doesn’t take his eyes off of her but his words are directed at his older brother, “Echo, take Omega to the ship.”

“No,” Omega fought the hand that grabbed her arm, shoving Echo back, “What's going on? Why aren’t we moving?”

She looked at you, anxiously awaiting an answer and you're quick to reassure the small girl, “Need a sec’, I prob’ly inhaled too much smoke.”

Realising that she isn’t going to go willingly to the Marauder, Hunter sighed, “Omega, go check on Wrecker. That’s an order, kid.”

Omega pressed her lips together and for a second you thought she was about to argue but instead she listened and went to check on Wrecker. The bigger clone’s sat on the ground, head between his legs, but he welcomed Omega into his arms when she hugged him in an attempt to calm him down.

Hunter cocked his head towards the two, “Echo, keep an eye on them.”

“Yes, sir,” Echo stood up and laid a hand on Hunter's shoulder, his voice lowering to a whisper, “Take care of her, vod.”

Tech took Echo's place, a scanner held over your body and he adjusted his goggles in the way he does when something isn’t looking good. The muscle in his jaw twitched before he turned the scanners screen to Hunter.

You tore your eyes away from them and tilted your head back to watch as the fire curled up into the dawn sky. Red and oranges mix with the pale pascals, and the stars, so bright from here, so familiar, blur with every breath you take. You can’t help but let your eyes drift shut.

“Don’t do that,” Crosshair hissed, “Keep your eyes open.”

You blinked them back open and you’re a little surprised to see Crosshair kneeling down beside you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. When your eyes met his, the corner of his mouth turned up, “Good, keep your eyes on me.”

“Crosshair?” You leaned into his hand, seeking the comfort he’s providing despite his usual nature, “Why aren’t we movin’? Is someone hurt?”

“No, everything is okay,” Crosshair replied, but it’s through clenched teeth. Something he only does when he’s having to say something he doesn’t fully believe and/or agree with. He positioned himself criss-crossed above you and lifted your head, replacing Echo’s pack with his lap, “We’re just taking a break.”

Right, a break. A second to relax and catch your breath, that’s what you needed. You closed your eyes, even though you're pretty sure someone just told you not to, but there’s a heavy fog clouding your mind and you can’t remember who it was.

“I said to keep them open.” Crosshair, right, that’s who said it. The man who’s currently demanding you to look at him.

“Crosshair, keep her awake.”

You're able to open your eyes enough to watch as the sniper glared at Tech, “What do you think I’m trying to do?”

Hunter’s fingers threaded through yours, “You can’t fall asleep, cyar’ika, okay? Hey, look at me, let me see those pretty eyes.”

The fading sun is too bright and your vision struggles to focus but you listened to his words and for that he gave you the softest smile, “There you are.”

“Wrec’ ok’?”

“He’s okay. We’re all okay. You just take another second to relax and don’t worry about anything, we have you.” Hunter pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Echo rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at his Sergeant, “You have to tell her, Hunter. You have to let her say goodbye.”

You want to ask what he means. Who’s saying goodbye by who. You want to ask why he looks so sorrowful, but your body doesn’t seem to want to cooperate and your voice only comes out in weak gasps.

“Move,” Tech ordered Crosshair, taking his position to support your body up against his chest, helping the air fill your lungs, “Deep breaths, nice and slow.”

You tried to match Tech’s breathing, the strength in his inhale and the sturdiness in the exhale, but your lungs start to fail you as your breathing became weaker, your grip loosened but Hunter doesn’t let go. Not even when your eyes drift shut for the final time and your chest stills.

Hunter lowered his head, pressing his forehead to yours as he whispered a promise: “Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum.”

“Hunter?”

“Kid-,” Crosshair reached out for Omega, not sure if he was trying to comfort and protect her or hell, maybe even himself, as she dropped to her knees beside your body. It took everything in him to not walk away, far from here, but she needs him. His brothers need him.

They all watched helplessly as Omega finally noticed the blood pooling around your body, “She's bleeding! Tech, why are you just sitting there?! Help her!”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do, Omega. The wound was too deep, she was losing too much blood. I’m… I’m sorry.”

“No, I don’t believe that. There has to be something we can do!” She pressed her tiny hands against the wound while she begged through tears: “Wake up! Talk to me, say something, anything! Please, open your eyes!”

“Ad’ika, she’s gone,” Hunter swallowed around the lump in his throat, his lower lip quivered when he pulled the small clone into his arms, “She’s gone.”

Mando’a translation

Parjir. – Victory

Ner vod – My sister

Cyar’ika – darling/sweetheart

Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum – Daily remembrance of those passed on *I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal.*

Ad’ika – Little one

#the bad batch #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb echo #tbb omega #tbb x platonic reader #justice joy writes #tw: character death

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bearbluebooks · 5 months

Text

Chapter 7 Christmas in Velaris

When 29 year old Gwyn moves back to Velaris, her new neighbor turns out to be less new than she first expected. With a new bookstore and old debts, Gwyn finds herself in a world of trouble. Do Christmas miracles exist or do they only happen in books and movies? What role does the Grinch tech genius play in this?

Read Chapter 1 here, or Chapter 7 here

17:45

To become rich was never an aspiration that fueled her soul, as long as she had a roof over her head and happiness in her heart.

For Gwyn, materialism was never about possession. It was about the appreciation of the big things and the small moments. Whenever Gwyn bought something it had meaning, function, or need. That’s why everything she owned fit in her car. One of the boxes contained the many ornaments that she carefully placed in her Christmas tree two nights ago- the knitted star her mother made her when she was nine, and the mini Catrin and Gwyn puppets they crafted together in kindergarten.

Lucky for her, because her bank account alone would not make her happy. When she dared to look at her balance this morning, the number she expected to see was wrong.

So wrong.

It was a tough realization, once again, that idealism only got you so far until it met reality.

Bills had wrecked the small savings she amassed over the years. So much so that she didn’t have any reserves to fall back on. And that scared her, to live in constant worry of the unexpected.

After seeing her balance, she knew to expect trouble sooner or later- a broken down car, a heating bill, or another collapsed roof. The possibilities alone gave her anxiety.

On top of that, she was a new business owner with no business to profit from. She had to be inventive. And quick.

So very quick.

Otherwise, it would have all been for nothing.

Even if she won the Christmas competition, she still needed to gather 10.000 dollars more.

Luckily, Azriel seemed more inclined to join forces after yesterday. He even seemed to have fun at the Christmas farm.

Miracles were still possible, she thought with a smile. She hoped it extended to her financial stability- which definitely needed a miracle.

She decided to give herself the weekend to come up with a plan.

Tonight, she would go out and forget her worries. She deserved that. To be with her old friends, and to make new memories. To forget all troubles, and maybe get into some new ones.

Who was she kidding? Even with alcohol, she needed control over her body and the situation.

A message popped on her phone, it took her out of her ruminating thoughts immediately. It was the guy from two nights ago, Troy.

Troy: Hi Gwyn, Troy here, the Christmas Guy, how’s the tree treating you? Not giving you any trouble?😉

Gwyn: Hi Troy. Not anymore ☺️ If he does I know who to contact to kick his ass.

Troy: You know it. Happy to help.

Troy: Speaking of help, would you like to help me finish dinner this Saturday night?

Gwyn: …

She didn’t know what to reply. Her heart beat faster, and many reasons flashed inside her mind as to why she should say no. She forced her mind to find reasons to say yes- he was handsome, he had the physic of someone who grew up on protein shakes and mountain exercise. And he seemed kind.

The idea of a date terrified her to her core.

Ever since her mum and Catrin died eleven years ago, she had a hard time opening up. To trust the world and the people in it. Ever since she experienced the worst, it became impossible to trust the good existed too. Life was unpredictable, and people were unreliable. The only thing you had control over was yourself.

The safety of her home became a cage of her own making. She had reasons to crave that cage, but there was also an internal wall that she built between her and the outside world. A wall that became thicker with every year that she stayed inside that cage.

Nothing happened to her there- nothing bad, but also not a lot of good.

She had Mouse, and jobs here and there, but she craved friendship, experiences, love, and life.

When she stepped into her car one week ago, it was out of a desperate attempt to shatter that wall. Gwyn knew that after so many years of building that wall up, only a jackhammer could get it down. And nobody would do it for her, she would have to be that jackhammer.

Growth happens outside your comfort zone, she reminded herself as she stepped into her car with shaking legs. A deceitful string connected to safety grew taut the further she drove. It urged her to get back to her cage, back to the safety of the known.

Instead, she focused on her heart, where the wish for happiness resided, and on the whisper of strength that beckoned her to trust her ability to handle the unknown.

Before she knew it, that string became weaker and weaker, until only resolve remained and she had the keys to her new future in her hands.

Maybe this was another possibility. A chance to break down her other walls. So she listened to that same inner whisper and replied.

Gwyn: sure. I’m good at eating.

As soon as she replied, she threw her phone and source of fear as far away as she could, in hopes of the feeling following the object in motion.

It didn’t, it stayed right there in her gut.

She didn’t have time to ruminate on the feeling for too long. Nesta would be here in fifteen minutes.

And she still needed to pick out an outfit. Mouse sat on the bed and she could swear she saw judgment in her eyes when she wore the purple sequin dress. Quickly Gwyn changed into an old dress from Lilly. The long satin green dress had an intricate light brown pattern that spread across the bust and the skirt. The small straps were adjustable and allowed her to fit the dress perfectly to her body. Nobody looked at shoes on nights out, and she only brought two pairs so her all-stars had to do. With quick hands, she braided her hip-length hair. When she looked in the mirror, she was quite proud of herself. She usually avoided make-up, but tonight she wore brown eyeliner and dark red lipstick. The dress complimented her overall look perfectly, and she felt good. She felt beautiful.

A glance at her phone showed the time: 6 pm. Normally Nesta was always on time.

A knock on her door proved her right.

With one quick grab of her coat and one final kiss on Mouse's head, she made her way downstairs.

Before she opened the door, she left the lock on the door to ask “Nesta?”

Safety was still important. It was all about balance, she reminded herself.

“The one and only,” the voice answered. With a smile on her face, Gwyn opened the door fully.

Before she knew it, she enveloped her friend in a hug. Neither of them let go immediately. It felt as if they both craved the comfort of each other's arms and nostalgia mixed with opportunity took over.

When they both let go after some time, Nesta whistled as she said “Gwynnie, you look hot.”

“So do you!” Gwyn replied enthusiastically. Nesta looked beautiful in her short beige dress. The long brown boots had such high heels that they made her just as tall as Gwyn. The faux leather jacket finished the look into something stylish yet sophisticated.

“Let’s meet Emerie, she is already at Rita’s.”

“She’s bringing Mor, you remember her right?”

Mor was the gorgeous blonde who was in the same year as Cassian, Nesta’s boyfriend, Rhysand, and Azriel. Together, they were known as the ‘inner circle’, or the most popular people in school.

“I do, I can’t wait to see them again.”

“Let’s go then,” she said as Nesta already dragged her by her elbow towards the bar.

—--

21:21

The evening was still young, unlike the memories they shared at the back of the dimly lit bar. “Remember when Miss Gold made you write your name 1000 times because you forgot which line you had to read?” Emerie reminisced.

Nesta joined “Or when we all had to be in detention because we wouldn’t say who pulled the fire alarm to get out of gym class?” The memory made her laugh.

The feeling of her past becoming intertwined with her present made her body warm with happiness. The feeling surprised her, it had been a long time since she felt that way.

“Are you back for good?” Emerie asked as soon as they found their familiar footing. The question woke her up from the warm haze of nostalgia. Planting her firmly in the present trenches of reality.

It was bound to come sooner or later. The need for an explanation- why she abandoned them all those years ago. Without a warning, without a goodbye, and without any further contact. But not tonight, she wasn’t ready. And she wasn’t having that conversation in Rita’s. Tonight one word was all she could give, “Yes.”

“Good,” Nesta replied solemnly.

With a smile, she looked at her surroundings and let her senses become overtaken by life. By the bustling sounds of the music. The slight sting of gin mixed with the sweetness of the tonic. The changing lights illuminated dancing faces in short intervals. The smell of sweat mixed with perfume and alcohol.

Then she took in the sight in front of her. Mor sitting next to Emerie, who held a possessive hand on her knee. It looked like they had been a couple for years, but apparently, it had only been three months, when Emerie finally gathered the courage to ask the blonde femme fatale out on a date. The rest was history.

Nesta sat on Gwyn’s right, close enough to whisper things about the people on the dancefloor in her ear, “Look there’s Lola, she’s married with two kids, whenever she needs a break, she comes here.”

Mor had secured them a VIP table in a secluded area with a separate table and bottle service, it provided a perfect view of the dancefloor. Gwyn had never experienced such luxury going out. When she was old enough to drink, one friend had taken her to a shady bar in town, she got so drunk she forgot half of the night. It terrified her to her core that she had no memories of such a big chunk of time. She spent weeks trying to remember, to no avail. She promised herself she would never put herself in that position ever again.

Tonight was no different. No matter how much free alcohol came her way, or the luxury setting, she would not have more than three drinks.

As the communications officer at Black Inc. Mor had ‘connections’ that reached far beyond the ‘depressing building’, as she called it.

“Thank you for your battle against the Grinch, it’s a tough but noble fight,” she said into her ear. Although the area was removed from the dancing crowd, the music was still loud in her ears.

“I pinched myself when I saw the Christmas tree in the lobby. It’s still undecorated but baby steps,” she said with a shrug.

With a smile, Gwyn said, “It can’t be that bad.”

“Oh girl, you have no idea,” Mor replied with a scoff. “Last year he wrote a program that flagged everything that had to do with Christmas. Even the word ‘balls’ was off limits.”

“What happened if you used it?” Gwyn dared to ask.

“Don’t ask,” Emerie interrupted.

Gwyn would definitely ask Azriel the next time she saw him.

Which was much sooner than she thought, when she spotted two imposing figures entering Rita’s.

With shocked eyes she looked at Nesta “I didn’t know Azriel was coming tonight?”

With a shrug, Nesta said, “He rarely joins, but when we said you were coming he suddenly had a clear schedule.”

Fine. This would be fine. They were on good terms, at least she thought so. They picked out a Christmas tree after all. Why did this feel different? More intimate?

Her hands started to sweat and her heart beat out of her chest.

He spotted her in an instant as if he could feel her presence before he saw her. His intense stare never left hers, until Cassian and Azriel reached their table.

He looked devastatingly handsome in his black pants and black dress shirt. Part of his sleeves were rolled up to reveal black tattoos. When he came closer, she noticed his unbuttoned shirt, which revealed even more tattoos and a trail of obsidian hair. The sight was almost obscene, and suddenly warmth spread through Gwyn’s body for different reasons.

“Hello ladies,” Cassian said in a bouldering tone that could be heard over the loud music. “Hello sweetheart,” Cassian said as he kissed Nesta.

Azriel remained silent as he took up the space to Mor’s left, opposite of Gwyn. Instead of a greeting, he ordered two whiskeys from the server.

Cassian sat on Nesta’s other side, rubbing loving circles on her lower back as he asked in such a way that made her feel like no time had passed at all, “Gwyn, how long has it been? It’s nice to see you again.”

When Gwyn and Azriel dated, Cassian became one of Gwyn’s friends too. Nesta was her best friend, and Cassian was Azriel’s, there were natural confines to their relationship that needed them to be friendly. His kind heart, caring nature, and shared love for music made it extremely easy to the point where she considered him one of her closest friends too. With that old connection in mind, she answered honestly, “Too long.”

“Enough talking, let’s dance,” Mor said as she dragged Emerie to the dancefloor. Before Emerie allowed herself to be swept away, she downed her glass of red wine at impressive speed.

“Let’s show them what real dancing looks like,” Nesta said as she guided Cassian to the center of the dancefloor.

Suddenly, Azriel, Gwyn, and four empty chairs were the only ones left.

Tension replaced the earlier easiness, and their silence only added to it.

“How are your muscles?” he asked suddenly breaking the silence.

Her entire body was aching, she could hardly walk and even lifting her gin tonic hurt- none of which she would ever admit. Instead, she said without looking into his devastating hazel eyes, “Fine, thank you. How are yours?”

Without saying anything, he left his seat across from her to take up Nesta’s former seat- right next to her. The closeness revealed his intoxicating cedar smell. The fragrance entered her nose and overtook all of her senses.

“What do you think about Rita’s?” he asked into her ear. The baritone voice sent shivers down her back.

“I like it,” she answered honestly as she wished he would ask her something else just so she could hear his voice again.

Instead, she blurted out, “Is it true you banned the word ‘balls’ in your office?” at a speed that made her wish there was a better filter between her mind and her mouth.

Azriel almost spat out his whiskey, and she couldn’t blame him, “What?” he asked with a red face that came from nearly suffocating.

“I heard you build some kind of Grinch program?” she asked, unwilling to change the subject. It was better to commit than to drop it, she decided.

He closed his eyes for two seconds to gather strength as he continued “Black Inc. is a place of business, Christmas has no place in it.”

“You are a Grinch,” she teased with a slap on his muscular arms, “What’s the harm in a little Christmas joy?” She dared to ask. “If it makes your employees happy, isn’t that good for business?”

His eyes looked hurt, not mad, which was strange especially when he didn’t respond further.

Instead, he asked, “Would you like to dance?”

Playful banter was one thing, physical closeness was another. It was one of the walls she had carefully built. And it felt like he was standing there hammering away at her defenses. But something inside her screamed to let him.

So she did.

“Okay,” she said as he guided them towards the dancefloor. His enormous hand encompassed hers in a protective grasp that ensured nobody was able to separate them until they reached their destination.

His imposing presence caused people to naturally make way for them until they reached a spot in the back of the dancefloor.

It had been a while since Gwyn danced outside of the safety of her bedroom. She suddenly felt very self-conscious of every movement her body made- the way her hips swayed, and her inability to come up with anything to do with her hands.

Azriel seemed to be in tune with her worries, as he moved closer and placed his hands on her hips. In swaying motions, he guided her to the rhythm of the music.

At first, her body tensed under the sudden touch before she felt the scars of his hands on the naked skin of her body and she was somehow transported back to when they were both young. To when he would pick her up in his old jeep, to take her to Rhysand’s house where secret parties were held every other week. How he would lead them to a secluded spot, where they would get lost in each other’s touch.

Her entire body relaxed into the safety of old trust and older memories.

Love in This Club boomed in the background and it felt oddly fitting.

“Is this okay?” He said into her ear, as he held her in his arms.

“Yes.” She assured him with a smile as she moved her hands to embrace his neck.

Song after song followed, and the whole world faded away. Together they swayed to the rhythm of the music and the beating of their hearts.

At a certain point, Azriel moved behind Gwyn, his hands never leaving her waist.

“You’re like a dream, Gwyn,” he said as he leaned down.

The compliment from his lips made her even more aware of his effect on her- on the heat that spread throughout her body. All she could focus on was all the points where their bodies connected which were suddenly on fire. Instead of answering with a compliment, she allowed her body to melt into his, like two puzzle pieces lost to time and space. She let her head fall into his muscular chest which allowed them to move as one. With closed eyes, she savored the moment. His strong body behind her felt like a protective cocoon of pleasant touch and a promise of safety. Without thinking, she let out a breath of pure contentment.

Until her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Then it buzzed again.

When she looked at the screen it was Troy. Her heart dropped into her stomach. Dread spread through her body as she read the words.

Troy: It’s a date.

Troy: I’ll pick you up at eight.

Azriel seemed to have looked at her phone on instinct. Shit.

“It’s not what you-“

She couldn’t see the hurt in his eyes, but she could hear it in his voice as he said “This was a mistake.”

Before she could explain he already moved out of the bubble they created and the the whole world crashed around her. Lights flashed in her eyes. People crowded around her. The music boomed in her ears. And suddenly, she was alone again.

She couldn’t help but think it was for the best. Azriel deserved someone better. Someone who wasn’t broken.

She wasn’t a dream. It was a dream. To think she could ever be with Azriel again. The past was the past, and she was a fool to think otherwise. She forced herself not to cry as she said goodbye to Nesta, Cassian, Emerie, and Mor.

As soon as she left Rita’s, a silent waterfall of tears ran down her cold face. The stinging sensation accompanied her all the way home. Back to where she belonged. Where it was safe.

#gwyn berdara #gwynriel #gwyn x azriel #acotar fanfiction #gwyn acosf #gwyneth berdara #acotar #acotar alternate universe #ao3 fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #a court of silver flames

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soaps-hoe-141 · 11 months

Text

Gaymers Unite

Again thank you very much for this perfectly fitting Watcher and Konig art @foreverrunningfree

So as requested by my proofreader and @czigonas the first pride month present is done, hope y'all enjoy. Also thank you @embruhh for being patient with my questions about Scots, feel free to correct me if I fucked something up

Pairing: Konig x trans!OC (Watcher: I have lore posts on my pinned masterlist)

WC: 8.7k

Synopsis: Lil bit of fluff, some tech support, most smut though, hope ya enjoy

Warnings: NSFW 18+, OC is transmasc

Green eyes stared hard. The tall German had kept those eyes on him from the moment Watcher had entered the store and drug him along too. His cheeks were rosy pink beneath that black mask as they walked up and down the aisles, looking at the many hyper-realistic dildos and harnesses. Konig’s arms were crossed over his chest, his fingers tapping nervously atop his bicep in time with his own racing heartbeat. “Fyn,” the strained voice spoke beneath his mask, “Please can we go?” The ginger turned to give the tall man a curious look, they had discussed coming here but the big man was starting to change his mind.

Slowly a smile erupted on that freckled face, noticing the anxiety in the other man immediately before he answered quietly, “How are ye sleekit, Koni? You say things that make even me blush when we’re in bed.” Konig went even more red at that comment, and his dark red brows rose into his hairline as the shorter man spoke. He raised a hand towards those plush, pink lips and shook his head quickly. Simultaneously he raised his other hand to his own face putting a single finger up to his mask in an attempt to shush the Scotsman who only seemed more amused by the futile gesture.

That strained voice came out from underneath the mask once more as he shook his head, “No, Fyn. Do not- Stop talking. Please,” Konig was stammering over his attempts at speaking now, pleading with the ginger in front of him to stay quiet. “This is not- You cannot say those things here, Fyn. We are in public, anyone could hear-” Green eyes raised and he glanced down the aisle at a woman who stopped momentarily to look at them with a bit of a tilted head before she decided not to stop and continued on.

Watcher continued to smile good-naturedly even after glancing down to look at the disappearing woman. As soon as she was gone the ice blue gaze returned to the shelf in a moment, “It’s alright Koni, no one cares. But if it’s geein ya the boak we’ll leave, come on then,” the shorter man reached for the huge hand that dwarfed his own in comparison. Long, lithe fingers wrapped around the warm, gloved hand as he finally headed back down the aisle for the door. Maybe dragging Konig into Luke & Jack’s wasn’t the best idea after all, even if he didn’t want to come by himself he should have known the tall man would have had his reservations about it.

~~~~~Three Days Later~~~~~

The door opened quietly behind the completely engrossed Scotsman. Watcher was so busy playing his FPS he didn’t even hear the squeaking of hinges over the sounds of shooting. The quietly creeping form behind him was careful not to give himself away either. The loud, usually overly sweet, Scotsman watched his screen fade to black before switching to his teammate’s view. Immediately the young man yelled out, “Are ya takin the fuckin piss!? How did ya no trade me ya numpty!?”

Watcher huffed with frustration as he tapped the top of his mic to mute himself, continuing to curse under his breath at the screen and shake his head at whoever he was watching. His teammate didn’t last much longer after that, maybe a few more seconds, before he too died. The screen faded to black before a single word flashed across the monitor, ‘Defeat’. Fyn’s jaw tensed angrily, his fingers tapping against the desk as the match finally ended and he pressed the button at the top of the screen to requeue.

A pale hand found the lithe shoulder in the next moment, the vine tattoos on full display as the Scotsman wasn’t wearing a shirt. At first the smaller man jumped with his eyes blown wide, his hands coming up to knock whoever was touching him away. In the next moment though he saw the backs of those familiar tattooed hands, a couple light and faded scars along his knuckles, and the fingernails painted in a fresh coating of black. A familiar sight that never failed to make his face light up as he caught sight of the scarred and beautiful face above him.

The racing of the ginger’s heart finally stopped as Watcher relaxed into an easy smile, looking up into dark green eyes, “Where huv ye been, Koko? Been bored and alone all day, now I’m sittin here all scunnert, not a bloody soul in the world knows how ta play this fuckin game and especially not these four dafties.” That slight tone of annoyance came back in a moment before the ginger took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, and then returned his gaze to Konig with a forced smile. Though his look softened as he watched the other man, it always did. Like a balm for his very soul…if he had one.

In response the German moved his hand to rest atop the pile of ginger curls, running through the thick hair as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to those lips. When Konig pulled away he smiled warmly down at him in return before finally he answered, “I’m sorry, Newt.” There was a quiet giggle from the Scotsman who still couldn’t believe that was what Konig had decided upon calling him when they weren’t on base of course. All because he had a Great Crested Newt tattooed across his collarbone among the vines, dog-roses, and wood anemone. He could have chosen between a Red-Eyed Crocodile Skin and an Adder and instead the man had gone with Newt. Though he had to admit it was endearing.

When another kiss pressed against the many curls this time Watcher's eyes narrowed at the tall man, wondering what it was the German wanted. It wasn't that Konig wasn’t sweet all the time, he was, sometimes overbearingly so. It was more of a feeling that pulsed in Fyn's gut that told him that the tall, red haired man behind him was awaiting the perfect moment to do something. Or to at least say something. The other man had never been all that good at hiding his expressions, a side effect of always wearing a mask wherever he went. Your facial expression typically became much more loose in private when you never had to worry about it while out in public.

Konig didn't seem willing to share his intentions though as he added on to his apology, "I was out buying a few things. I did not think you would be so lonely here without me, you seemed very interested in your game when I left." Had he been interested in the game? Fyn honestly couldn't remember, he had a tendency to get sucked into them when he started playing. To be honest the apartment could have been on fire and the Scot probably never would have noticed unless someone physically drug him away from his PC. As Konig finished his sentence though a loud noise came from the computer that caught Watcher's attention in a second.

The shorter man turned in a moment, sliding his chair forward back under the desk as the countdown for his next game began. Still though the Scotsman answered him, "Well I was…Felt very neglected, Koni." It was a blatant lie, and one that Konig could see through easily, and worked to draw out a smile on the big man's face in response. When the ice blue eyes flicked back up to the other man he saw the dark red eyebrows lift in a silent apology, the huge hand that had settled on his shoulder giving a gentle squeeze. "It's ok, I forgive ya, unlike the bastarts in this game," Konig gave a light laugh at that as he settled against the back of the chair to watch as the Scotsman readied for his next match.

As Fyn setup traps and an ambush on site in the pregame the tall German behind him scrunched up his nose at the voice he heard through the headphones, “We do not sound like that, Fyn. You know I hate when you play her.” The ginger merely gave a quiet smile as he stayed laser focused, Konig had never liked this character and it never failed to amuse him. It wasn’t like there was a Scottish character to cause him the same sort of annoyance, thankfully.

As the countdown for the start of the round began Konig leaned down against the back of the chair with an anxious look in his eyes. The young man was completely engrossed at this point, he didn't see the gleam in those green eyes, or the way his scruffy chin settled just behind where his head was. As an enemy peeled around the corner the chess game between them began, "I've been thinking," there was a quiet hum from Watcher but it was obvious he wasn't really paying attention, "That I may have overreacted in that store the other day." There was another soft smile that appeared on those plush, pink lips but other than that the young man stayed completely focused on what he was doing.

The fingers of that huge catcher's mitt slid back into the curly locks along the back of Watcher's head. Nails dragging lightly against his scalp as the German successfully drew out another low, satisfied hum from the young Scotsman. Still though the other remained completely focused on his game, finishing the first round with a win. In a softer voice Konig continued, "I, um, well it made me a bit nervous." There was a nod from the ginger, they'd already talked about this both before and after entering the store so to hear him bringing it all up again was a bit…unexpected.

A hard swallow as those long, thick fingers continued to play with his hair softly and Konig pushed on, "I wasn't sure what else you might want to do with a-” The tall man stopped for a second trying to think of the word before finally continuing, “I believe you called it a packer?" Fyn nodded slowly again, the young man's attention now divided between his game and the huge man currently bent in half to talk softly just behind his ear. The second round ended with another win for the Scot's team due mostly in part to the ginger's work. Any time you wipe an entire team it's safe to say you did the heavy lifting.

This was getting a bit long winded now, in truth. Konig was drawing out what he was trying to say, his anxiety building with every extra second it took him to get out where his mind was leading his words. The tall man cleared his throat and pushed onward, "I know you said you've never used one before," the Scot nodded again. It was the truth, Watcher had come out early on in highschool to his parents who had been completely supportive of him from the moment he had told them. That support had eased some of that dysphoria, the need to prove to himself he indeed a man. Especially after his top surgery it had never really mattered to him what was in his pants after that. Or it had mattered much less, at least for a few blissful years.

Then about the time he'd started to get more comfortable with the idea of having something down there and even sex, he'd gotten himself arrested for hacking something he really should not have been hacking. And by that point packing just became a hindrance so it was just easier not to even let himself think about it anymore. He just kept himself busy and avoided the thought of bottom dysphoria as best he could. Though over the past few months that dysphoria had been rearing its ugly head. Turning his bad days to worse even though he hid them well, from everyone except Konig anyway. It wasn’t like most of the other guys knew he was transmasc anyway, well no one except for Laswell and Price anyway. So even if they had noticed something off it was doubtful anyone would have guessed what it really was.

However, the German always saw him when he was looking at himself in the mirror. He watched as the ginger criticized everything he still found inherently feminine about himself. The shape of his face, the way his hips looked, how short he was, and the list went on and on. The tall man had also noticed the other man's seemingly worsening anxieties about every little thing that didn't even have anything to do with his body. Konig had always been hyper aware of everyone else around him and when it came to his little Scotsman the truth of that statement only increased tenfold. "Fyn," there was a small hum as if to say, 'Yes dear?' so Konig continued, "Would you- Will you-" The tall man couldn't seem to figure out how to ask this without feeling like an idiot for saying it aloud, before finally he just blurted out, "I want you to top me."

Fyn's hand froze on the mouse, his icy eyes blowing wide with surprise. The screen faded to black a second later as an enemy came around the corner and lit Watcher up without so much as a single shot in return from the overly competitive Scotsman. The camera view changed to one of his teammates, but the young man was frozen in his chair while he stared at the screen with a surprised unseeing look as he tried to process what his much larger boyfriend had just said. No scratch that, what his impossibly large and extremely dangerous boyfriend had just demanded of him.

"Ye say wha?" Fyn turned around in the chair to look up at Konig with that wide-eyed expression but the sound of the round loss and the start of the next forced his attention back to the screen. Though it was very obvious that Watcher was paying no attention to what was happening in the game. Completely forgetting to set his equipment up for the next round. His teammates shouting questioningly at him in the voice chat.

Icy hues kept flicking to the hand still resting on his shoulder as he played through the round to the best of his abilities. Even distracted he managed to kill two of the other team before he felt the large index finger tracing absently over a freckled shoulder. Swallowing hard, the young man turned again looking up at Konig before he asked, “Ya want me ta…top ye?” The German watched him for a brief moment before giving a hesitant nod.

Slowly the young man’s head tilted as he looked up at the other, taking a deep breath as he thought about it for a moment. “Koni, I’d love ta, but I dinnae…Well I mean I dinnae have a real prick,” Fyn laughed lightly as he shook his head. Trying not to upset himself at that statement, it wasn’t exactly something he enjoyed having to admit aloud. Another round started in the next heartbeat and the Scotsman returned to his game, his mind whirling with thoughts.

Clearing his throat the German stamped down some of his nervousness, “I know that little Newt, but-” Watcher lifted a hand to stop him, before pointing back at the screen as the round started. Green eyes focused on the game again, quieting as he tried to let the young man focus. It wasn’t often that Fyn got the chance to play anymore with work and their relationship, so while he had the chance Konig was content to let him play, at least until he decided he was done.

As the round came to an end Watcher hurriedly looked back to the tall man as the German spoke again, “So I went shopping today, yes?” The Scotsman gave a tentative, slow nod as Konig retreated out the door for a quick moment and then returned with a shopping bag. “So I got you something to, you know, make up for my overreaction yesterday.” He shoved the bag forward towards the young man, eyebrows raised expectantly as Fyn took it from him.

Watcher didn’t open it immediately, weighing the bag in his hand for a moment as he looked up at Konig with a small smile, “Ya got me something? It isnae my birthday, Koni," the ginger gave him a wry smile as he looked up. As he opened the bag though his icy eyes slid down, taking a quick glance inside the wry smile turned into a beaming grin.

An incredulous laugh left the young man’s mouth as he shook his head and shuffled through the bag inspecting the contents inside, "I know that it is not your birthday little Newt, but you have been talking about it for a while now so I bought it for you…well I bought a few of them, I was not sure which was best. I am sorry," the tall man's cheeks were blood red by now. Green eyes looking anywhere but at the Scotsman.

The shorter man was too busy digging around in the bag to notice the other's nervousness though. Fyn was looking at the two different harnesses and three different hyper-realistic dicks in their boxes. Ice blue eyes widened as he inspected them, one was specifically for packing, smaller than the other two and without any potential to be used in the bedroom. The other two though were definitely meant to be used in bed. The mere size of the both of them made him laugh a little bit.

Ginger brows rose along his forehead as he pulled out the biggest one, eyes blowing wide before his features settled into a smirk, "So Koni, my prick is bigger than yers now." A nervous laugh escaped the man currently towering over him before Fyn leaned back in the chair, a smug smile on his face. "Ya want me ta top ya then, yeah?" Konig's large hand lifted to scratch awkwardly at the back of his neck before he gave a hesitant nod. Watcher shrugged and gave a quick nod before turning back to his still ongoing game, "Alright then I will." The tall man behind him shifted on the balls of his feet, the floor beneath him creaking with the effort.

Still the game continued on the monitor. Watcher died first and he spun in his chair again to look up at the still quietly watching German. A smile was still on that pretty face as the Scot reached for Konig's hand, pulling him down to press a kiss to the larger man's lips. "Always so willing to please aren't ya, Koko?" The tall man nodded his reddened face just in front of the much prettier face in front of him. As he tried to pull away though Fyn's fingers tightened around his wrist and the other found a grip in the collar of his shirt, "I didnae say ya could go nowhere. We were havin ourselves a moment." The current round still raged on behind him and completely forgotten for the moment as Watcher focused on the man in front of him instead.

The tall man's adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, drawing the icy gaze for a moment before Fyn dove back in. Heated and needy despite how cool and relaxed he appeared on the outside. It was impossible to resist the sweet taste on the Scots tongue, the large hands bracing on the armrests on either side of the smaller body. There was a slight hum from Konig’s throat just before the ginger pulled away with a smirk and sat back in his chair, leaving the German slightly out of breath and with a stain of red across his cheeks. Green eyes blinked a few times as he had to force himself not to shift and adjust himself inside his pants.

Before the tall man could even utter a protest Watcher was back to his game, ignoring the slightly heavy breathing just behind him. It was like the Scotsman hadn’t just had his tongue down Konig’s throat. A cautious step to stand behind the chair once more and he saw the bowl of ice cream sitting at the edge of the desk. No wonder Fyn had tasted so good. Leaning down over him again, Konig whispered just loud enough to hear over the game, “I thought we were having a moment?”

A hint of a smile found his delicate features as someone yelled over the headset, that the German didn’t quite understand but he knew it was good, excited even. Probably something to do with the kill that the ginger hit on one of the enemy players. In the next few moments Fyn hit three headshots in a row to win the round before leaning his head back and raising a hand to pull Konig back down. His lips pressed hard against the taller man’s, dragging him into another heavy kiss during the short pause between rounds without even turning the chair around this time.

When Watcher pulled away again his smirk was even bigger as he said, “I think ya may be my good luck charm. Haven’t had a shot all night till ya walked in here.” Konig gave a light laugh leaning a bit further towards the ginger who quickly pulled away, with a teasing shake of the head as he returned to his game. Dark red brows knitted together in confusion, as the German huffed a bit, watching the young man return to playing his game. A bit frustrated after being left without the ability to taste the sweetness of that beautiful mouth again.

Fyn was playing more than one game now. As he stood behind him for the start of the round though it became very obvious that the tall man was more than willing to play along. Surprisingly light fingers grazed along Watcher’s jaw, drawing another smile from the young man who was more than pleased to receive the attention. Leaning into the light touch soft kisses found the long, freckled throat in the next few moments. “Yeah, just like that,” the young man whispered.

A voice sounded in the headset which made the both of them pause for a quick moment until Watcher cleared his throat and answered, “Yeah mate, right there. He’s in long…” The German smiled against the thin skin before he resumed the light kisses. The ginger smiled again and whispered, “Sorry, hit the wrong button.” A quiet laugh left the tall man as he continued to nibble lightly at the younger man’s throat.

The soft feeling of a tongue running over his skin made the Scot’s chin raise just a bit, his teeth biting at his bottom lip for a moment as he hummed appreciatively. The other team didn’t even make it on site that round before Konig whispered, “You taste good tonight. What did you do differently little Newt?” Watcher shivered hard at the breath playing over the little patches of saliva left over on his throat from the tall man’s ministrations.

Turning in the chair the young man found his dark green eyes before he shrugged, “Nothin different, but you know…” Fyn leaned forward to tempt Konig towards him before once more sinking back into the chair, the tall man following him as he once more braced on the arm rests with his own excited smile. “I know something that would taste a little better than that.” The blush across Konig’s face deepened even more as he glanced down where the young man’s tattoos disappeared beneath the waistband of his shorts.

Cocking up an eyebrow the German gave a nervous chuckle before asking, “Are you sure? You are in the middle of a game.” Fyn didn’t hesitate to grab a tattooed arm, pulling Konig’s huge hand to his side, sliding it a bit lower to rest gently around one of his hips. “How do you-” The young man hooked a foot into the back of one knee before buckling it and repeating it with the other until the tall man was kneeling in front of him with a surprised look. “Oh,” he breathed out before Watcher had a hand at the back of his head pulling him into another hard kiss, exploring the other’s mouth with a smile still on his lips.

Another round started on the monitor and loud voices were coming from the headset in angry and demanding tones. Fyn just slid the headphones off his ears to settle around his neck for a moment, ignoring his teammates as Konig’s hands gripped at either side of his waist. The young man wrapped his legs around Konig’s waist, lifting his backside off the chair as fingers hooked into the waistband of his shorts and pulled down hurriedly.

The underwear and shorts came off in a smooth motion before Watcher sat back on the chair and unwrapped his legs. The German’s face was red, his breathing even quicker now as he sat back on his heels to take in the sight. Christ he was beautiful, it made him rock hard and needy just seeing his bare, sculpted chest, but now there he was completely bare before him and it was driving the big man insane. His green eyes glanced behind the ginger to the round currently going on in the background, once more catching the sound of the voices yelling in the headset. Fyn didn’t seem too worried about them though so he decided not to worry either.

Konig dove back in, lips finding the freckled skin just over his sharp collarbone. His fingers still worked to pull the shorts down his long legs, throwing them to the side as they finally came off. Watcher was nearly off of the chair now, sitting right on the edge and biting his lip with a bright sheen over his eyes, enjoying the quick pace Konig was currently working at. It did something to the both of them to be doing this where a single press of the wrong button could get them both caught by complete strangers on the internet.

Slowly green hues traveled down, shaking his head slowly as he leaned down, pressing light kisses to the other man’s knee. Sliding up his thigh slowly before glancing up to catch sight of the freckled face above him, cheeks tinged red and eyes alight with anticipation. A thin hand reached up, sliding into dark red locks while Watcher urged him on, “There ya go.” Konig’s lips inched down the inside of Fyn’s thigh, earning a little shift of the man’s hips towards his frustratingly far face.

Just as the German was about to reach his destination though another loud yell came from the headphones and there was an annoyed sigh from the man above him before the fingers in his hair tightened. Fyn stopped him just shy of his prize before he slid his headphones back up onto his ears and his mind began to think up a solution. “Under, Konig, get under the desk,” a skeptical look found the other man’s face as he looked under the desk and then back up to the freckled face.

It wasn’t a joke though, the Scotsman was being completely serious. There was no joking smile, and the sweet look he typically wore had been washed down the drain by now. When Fyn pushed his chair back he gestured towards the desk again and the tall man sighed before whispering, mainly to himself, “If you say so…” It took a moment for him to maneuver underneath before Fyn slid his chair back into place.

There it was, sitting right in front of him, that perfect and dripping core that overpowered nearly every thought in his mind. It was already glistening with apparent arousal, the young man’s hips shifting again as he spoke above him, “How ya crabbit, mate? We’ve still got time, haud yer wheesht and play the game.” Fyn let go of the button before leaning back in the chair, his hand resting on the keyboard and the mouse now.

The young man was naked before his eyes, every tattoo available for him to see. From the vines winding down his sides and stomach to the mingling roots from the tree that Konig knew was tattooed on his back. The Scotsman’s tattoos were more like an artist had painted his skin. That pale and freckled flesh had become a canvas for the tattoo artist, rendering his whole visage even more beautiful than he already was. It was making his own cock throb with need where it was still trapped in his pants. “So beautiful, little Newt,” the man beneath the desk whispered with a breathy sigh.

Roots wrapped around Fyn’s thighs, winding down with the vines till the roots ended on the bottom of his feet and the vines ended on the top. The young Scotsman was a walking display of artistic talent and the sight never failed to impress Konig, especially when he started to compare his own which weren’t nearly as thought out and instead were much more disjointed. Konig looked like someone slapped stamps on him in comparison to the beauty that was the freckled skin in front of him. He reached a hand down, palming himself and easing a bit of that needy ache. Squeezing hard for a few moments as he continued to stare at the dripping depths in front of him.

The hips before him shifted again as Watcher was forced to focus back on the game in front of him. Slowly the man underneath the desk leaned forward again, his gentle fingers tracing a vine up the expanse of his thigh until it started to wind around to his side. Large hands took hold of the thin hips then as he pressed another kiss to one of the larger roots that wrapped around his thigh. He was worshiping that body, making Fyn writhe beneath his soft touch without even really meaning to, Konig just couldn’t help himself whenever he was blessed with the sight of this beautiful body.

Warm air played across the glistening area between his thighs as he drew out a slight jerk of the hips he was still holding onto. Finally Konig’s tongue darted out, licking up the expanse, gathering the slick on his tongue and humming at the taste. Above him Watcher let out a breathy sigh at the feeling before he whispered, “Fuckin hell, took ya long enough.” Konig laughed a bit at the words before he pressed his face between those thighs again, burying himself in the delectable cunt spread out like a feast before him.

One would think the distraction of Konig’s mouth would hurt the performance of his gameplay, that it would prevent him from getting what he needed done. However, it seemed to do the exact opposite. Spurring him on as he peeked a corner getting a headshot just after Konig’s tongue flicked over the head of his dick and drew out a delectable moan. And when the man beneath him started to whisper quiet praises like, “You’re so fuckin wet,” and, “Gott, you taste so good, Newt,” Watcher peeked a corner and headshot every single one of the enemy team. The man took out a whole team in less than thirty seconds with his heart thudding in his chest from the little adrenaline rush and the fact that his boyfriend was currently under the desk going down on him like there was no tomorrow.

The entire situation was truly invigorating. He’d never felt anything like it as one of his teammates was in utter shock currently, just standing in spawn and turned to stare at him. Fyn was ignoring the voices coming through his headphones though at this point, including the valuable callouts, electing instead to enjoy the cute little noises coming from the giant beneath the desk. The game was almost becoming a nuisance though at this point, taking his focus away from how good that tongue felt as it dove into his depths. Lapping and licking like his cunt was an oasis and Konig had been in a desert for three days without any water.

“Oh shite Ko-” the muscles of his abdomen were starting to quiver and his thighs were shaking as large hands slid down his hips to hold them open. A quick moan and jerk of his hips up before he had to settle his hands again and focus back on the game. “Fuck Koko, yer about ta make me cum,” the young man groaned and closed his eyes as he focused for a moment on not doing just that. A warning that the other team was on site had Watcher turning his icy gaze back to the monitor as he swallowed hard, trying to stay focused.

Konig merely hummed at the words, taking it more as encouragement to keep going rather than a warning to slow down. Within the next moment Watcher over-extended and got himself killed, probably on purpose if he was being honest as his hands disappeared below the desk and his back pressed against the chair to lift his hips a bit more. A small smile found the German’s mouth but he didn’t stop, his tongue flicking diligently over the head of his dick.

In the next moment a hand slipped between his thighs to join his mouth in its work, a long finger toying slowly at his entrance. “Ah shite, yeah,” Fyn nodded quickly before the finger slid in. Thick and much more rough against his walls than they had been against his skin. Konig worked slowly at first, mindful of how big his hands were. Stretching the young man’s entrance with deliberate slowness. Watcher needed time to adjust even to his fingers, but as he slowly relaxed around his middle finger the tall man added another.

Three rounds could have passed in the next few moments and the Scotsman wouldn’t have cared in the slightest. His own hands were tangled in Konig’s hair, pulling his mouth even closer, nearly suffocating the man though there were no complaints or disgruntled noises from the big man. Quickly he wrapped his lips around the engorged head of his cock and sucked a few times, curling the two digits up as a gruff moan came out of Fyn’s mouth and one hand flew to brace against the chair.

He was completely out of it at that point, in both mind and in consideration to the chair, as Konig’s eyes went wide. Though there were no signs of him stopping any time soon as he was continuing to suck at the tip for a few more seconds as Watcher’s release coated his fingers in that deliciously wet slick. The orgasm rolled through the young man in a hot wave that left him gasping and his body jerking for a few moments. “Oh shite, shite, shite,” his mind was foggy for a second as Konig pulled his fingers out and wrapped an arm around the young man’s back, the other throwing his pale, tattooed legs over broad, muscled shoulders.

His mouth was only pulled away for a few moments before he dove back in. At this point the chair had been pushed halfway across the room out of the way and the German had settled Watcher on his shoulders, the dripping release coating his tongue as his mouth returned diligently to its work. So long as Konig didn’t have to talk his anxiety wasn’t so bad, and his confidence was especially high with the little moans and groans he was pulling out of the other man now sitting on him as if he was a throne rather than a living breathing person.

It wasn’t the first time Watcher had been on his shoulders, but it was the first time he’d been on his shoulders backwards before. This was all new territory but both of them seemed to be adjusting well to it, hard not to when they were enjoying themselves so much. There was a moment of panic in those icy eyes before his hands found the keyboard and mouse again and he forced himself to return to his game, even as Konig coated his mouth and chin in the slick cum still dripping out of that warm, pulsing entrance. Fyn’s freckled chest was still heaving with the effort of his first climax as he let out a quick apology, “My bad, mate…Had to, uh, answer my boyfriend, ya know how it is.”

A huff of amusement left the German as he pulled his mouth away for just a moment. Eyes shining up at Watcher with pride as the Scotsman rolled his eyes. A quick hand flew down before tangling into Konig’s dark red locks and forced his mouth back to work before he whispered, “Didnae say ye were done. Back to work, Koni,” he smiled down at him for a moment as the tongue returned to its original task. And Christ it was doing that task with unmatched skill. "Holy shite," the ginger whispered under his breath as his head tipped back for a moment. With no chair to stop it though Konig had to wrap both of his arms around the small of his back to keep him from falling.

Until Fyn got himself righted anyway and forced his eyes back to the screen. The huge arms surrounding him were the only things keeping him from riding Konig's face right off into the floor honestly. Watcher's hips were grinding down on the big man's tongue, little huffs of air coming from his slightly parted lips. The flat of his tongue dragging over his entrance before diving back inside, still more than enjoying his feast. The sharp point of his nose was nudging against the sensitive bundle of nerves and causing Fyn to clench around him again, his thighs locking his head into place so well the only thing that could be seen were the dark red locks and shining green eyes.

Konig was wearing Fyn's throbbing cunt like a fucking mask. Hiding himself between pale, freckled thighs and all the while the young man was having to force himself to focus on the game. And funny enough the more attention Konig's tongue paid him the better he seemed to be. His shots were hitting with pinpoint precision and accuracy as if the game itself knew what the two were doing and was only cheering them on. Giving Fyn a pass to keep going by providing him with a favorable rng.

Two more rounds of grinding against Konig's face was nearly all that the young man could handle. His thighs were starting to shake around Konig's head as he neared his second climax. The tongue currently delving inside was sending his mind off the rails. If there was one thing about this fucking man it was that he could eat you out and he never even came up for air. Forward focused on the task given to him and working only to put your head in the clouds. It was torturously good but you'd never hear the Scotsman complain about getting head from him. It was the highlight of his day.

"I'm close, Koni," his words were breathy and barely audible over the sounds of Konig's tongue working wonders on his body. His breath was already starting to come in short, tense gasps. A feeling of white hot heat starting to spread out from his core and down through his thighs, with his toes curling in anticipation. And yet still he was able to focus on the game. It was the last round, all he had to do was not let his idiot teammates die and they could win this. A 5v4 was easy, they had numbers on their side after one of the enemy team had disconnected.

Yet the second he thought that in his mind the game took a dire turn. He almost fucked it, his hand already reaching down to find the top of Konig's dark red hair. However, he stopped the second he heard the obnoxiously loud voice yell, "Last player standing!" He stared blankly at the screen for a moment, not quite believing that fact that he was so close now, nearly there and he was now in a 1v4 situation on the last round. It was a joke, and yet when he looked at the scoreboard he was staring at four other faded pictures that let him know very quickly it was not a joke.

A voice, that didn't really sound like his own, yelled through the mic, "Ya daft bastarts! Stotterin aboot like right roasters ye are! Ye ever heard of holdin the bloody site!? How ye go and die like that!? All four of ya are tier one operators but ya cannae play a fuckin game!? Price just ran us through fuckin holdin drills for three hours yesterday!" There were a few clicks from the keyboard as Watcher kept going, slowly walking through the map all the while still grinding frustratedly against Konig's mouth. In the next moment the young Scotsman was going on a tirade to each and every teammate, "Soap quit running in with the fucking LMGs and gettin yersel killed like a teuchter! Ghost learn how ta snipe ye daftie or put the damn thing down. They cost too much for ya ta be buyin one every fuckin round and dying with it down long! Gaz, haud yer wheesht yer no better. Running right inta em and giving em free guns every fuckin round."

There was a pause as Fyn let go of the mic key, a huff of air leaving him along with a low moan as Konig pushed him ever closer to his next release. His ankles locked at the mid of Konig's back before he got himself back under control and cleared his throat, "And Speck I cannae say much to ye, I know yer only filling in cause Koni was out. Thank ye fer that. Still though what tae fuck man! I cannae do everythin mysel, ya cunts!!!"

The second he finished his tirade Watcher ran right into one of the enemy team, his mouse flicking up as he shot the guy in the head and kept going. "Now all of ye, shut yer mouths, I'm trying ta work," the young man felt his legs shaking even more now but he couldn't let himself give in to that mouth right now. His voice dropped back to a whisper then as he groaned out, "Slow down. Just a bit, got ta focus. Then I'll fuck ye, alright?" A smirk found his mouth and only widened when he heard the quiet moan from between his thighs and felt the vibrations in the same second.

Konig listened though, his tongue pulling out in favor of wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves. His tongue glided over it in slow, languorous strokes as he continued to edge Fyn ever closer to his next climax. He agreed to slow down, not stop completely. The next moment the bomb was planted and there was an annoyed sigh from the young man as he backtracked all the way to his original site. He ran straight into the second attacker as he rounded the corner, his mouse flicking as he hit another headshot immediately. The second he did, Konig's arms tightened as he pulled the man down harder on his working mouth.

Watcher nearly came right then and there, it took everything in him not to. His mind was trying to go fuzzy as the big man beneath him did everything in his power to distract him from his secondary goal: defuse the bomb. The heat was blazing over Fyn's skin, turning what wasn't covered in ink or freckles into a red noticeable flush. He needed to let go and finally reach his climax that had been building for the past ten minutes now, but he couldn't. "Slow it down aye? Two more, Koni, hold on," a growl vibrated through the man beneath him as he pulled even harder. Refusing to relent this time, and fucking hell Watcher had to admit he didn’t exactly want him to either.

Ice blue eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the feeling of that vibration, his head shaking back and forth as he tried to stay focused. "Fuckin hell," his hips grinded against the rapidly flicking tongue, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he fought to control his breathing and shaking hands. Focus. He needed to focus and get himself out of this fuckin match before he ended up blowing this rank down game.

Soap was whispering in his ears to Gaz who couldn't stop laughing as he tried to answer. A constant distraction in his ears as even Ghost muttered between their constant chatter, "He's not getting out of this one, lads." Speck was ominously quiet on his line until his mic lit up and a single loud bark came over the line. "Affirmative Cerberus," the deep, raspy, British voice responded immediately and then everyone went silent, probably cracking up on their sides of the mic. Fyn was nearly laughing himself while still losing his mind grinding on Konig's mouth. It was a rollercoaster and every second had him tipping further towards senseless babbling.

With the silence though he could hear the light footsteps just over the wall as whoever it was ran up and down the clear shooting lane unaware that he was on the other side. Looking ahead he watched the site, the bomb sitting right out in the open and counting down the time to his loss. He still didn't know where the other one was and he hated the idea of just running in but Konig was picking up his pace again and he certainly didn't have enough time to wait. Clearing his throat he hit the mic button and asked quickly, "Speck," a short pause, "What is it ye always say before running in ta do somethin daft during our ops?" There were a few moments of silence as Fyn inched closer to the bomb on site.

Finally Speck said a bit hesitantly, "Fuck it?" Yep that was it. Fyn jumped out the window and down onto sight. The second he did he turned towards where he'd heard the footsteps, watching one of the enemy team step out earning a couple bullets to the face for their troubles. Fingernails dug into his back as Watcher nearly let out a whine at the feeling which he suppressed into a low hum as he glanced around the site. There wasn't any time to go looking for the last guy though so instead he just hit the defuse and kept his ears open, even as his eyes rolled back at the hum vibrating against the head of his cock. "Shite Ko, I'm trying ta focus," the young man’s voice was strained and barely more than a whisper now. The big man refused to relent though and thank Christ he did because that was truly the last thing he wanted him to do.

He wasn't gonna make it to the end of this defusal at this rate, not with the way Konig was currently driving him mad. Sweat was beading up on his forehead and sliding down his neck as he tried to listen and defuse the bomb halfway. Fingers were digging into the expanse of his back, sending a flash of pain at the fingernails and then immediately behind it the soothing feeling of pleasure that had his hand twitching on the mouse and keyboard. His finger came off the button in an involuntary jerk and the bomb stopped defusing just a second before the last enemy popped his head around the corner.

Lucky, that's what Fyn was. He had been lucky when his parents had been able to work him up a deal to keep him out of jail. He'd been even luckier to be found by Agent Laswell, and the luckiest to have gotten along and fill a much needed role in the 141. And that luck didn't fail him now as he immediately flicked onto the enemy as the other started to fire. It took a single shot to his head and Watcher had his finger back on the defusal key holding it down for dear life as he let himself get lost in the pulsing throb of need now. With five health left to spare the Scotsman was definitely one of the luckiest players in this game sometimes.

The second that the victory screen popped up he heard the loud voices of the others on the headphones but he was oblivious by now. His hands braced on the desk, hips moving in earnest as he started to grind against the quickly working mouth once more. Konig was happy to oblige, the hands pulling off his back and instead affixing to his hips as he tilted his head back some, letting the younger man use him as he saw fit. "Fuckin hell, so good for me," there was a short moan that fell from Watcher's lips, mirrored by the man beneath him. The praise seemed only to make Konig even more eager to please him. His tongue lapped at the head a few times before sucking hard for a few seconds and then repeating. Turning his core into a well of heat that flowed from Fyn's depths and had him nodding without even realizing he was doing it.

His body was no longer even under his control anymore. Thoughts were whirling in his mind and voices were talking in his ears that never even made it to the thought center of his brain. Fyn had one goal, and one goal only now that he'd finished the game, and that was to finish himself. The hands on his desk flew down to the dark red head of hair, shaking just as much as his thighs were as he tried to find his second release. Another loud moan fell from his lips before Fyn muttered, "Yer so good, so fuckin good, letting me use you, fuck Ko. Never get tired of this mouth. Never. Fuck yer perfect. So close, fuck so close, I'm gonna- Oh shite-" There was a hitch in his breath before his head tipped back and his eyes shut tight and he groaned as white hot heat flooded through him in crashing waves.

Fyn was spasming in the strong grasp now, his breathing halted for the moment as he finally found his orgasm. Lithe fingers dug into the hair at the base of Konig's scalp but they were no longer guiding, these were the desperate gripping fingers of a man near gone from pleasure. And the big man beneath him was a man possessed, refusing to quit even as he tried to pull the other away. Long arms locked the Scotsman in place even as his hips writhed desperately trying to find a way to come down from the high.

It wasn’t until freckled thighs had locked him into what was effectively a sleeper hold that Konig finally relented and pulled away, his lips and chin glistening with Fyn’s release. His tongue darted out to lick his lips with a smile. The Scotsman let out his pent up breaths, heaving as he caught his breath while Konig continued to hold him up on his shoulders. Green eyes were watching him with a proud look in his eyes as the other was still trying to regain his composure. Scarred lips pressed against the inside of his thigh gently, even a smile found his mouth as Watcher finally started to catch his breath.

Voices still played in his ears, specifically Soap and Gaz who were already ready to go for another game only for Watcher to hit his mic button and answer with a very definite, “No. See ya tomorrow,” and then he promptly alt+F4 out of the game and shut the computer down. His eyes slid down to where Konig was resting his cheek against the inside of his thigh, still looking up with a small smile on his face, “Thought ye was gonnae kill me, mate.”

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legolasghosty · 5 months

Note

Robots & Androids ‎AU plus Small Town AU

OKAY I AM FINALLY GETTING TO THESE I'M SORRY I'M SO BEHIND!!!

Okay. So.

Humanity kinda developed a LOT of health issues in the mid-late 23rd century. It was all a long time in coming, but it was a bit of a shocker still when people started breaking down. And there just wasn't enough people to keep up with the demand for new organs, tissue, blood, etc. The human race was basically failing. So, in a semi last ditch attempt to keep people alive, cyborg technology was put to work. Scientists had been messing around with the theory of it for years, since robots and androids were getting decently advanced. But they never had the support to actually try a clinical trial. Until now.

Some of it worked better than others. And it was HIGHLY controversial. Though maybe less than it should have been, considering the lengths the research team was permitted to go in order to get this stuff sorted out... Mainly that they were given legal permission to try it out on patients without their express consent, mostly in situations where the person was in a coma/on life support with no real hope of recovery.

Towards the end of her life, Rose was offered the chance to try getting a cybernetic lung transplant to replace the one that had been damaged beyond repair by her cancer. She refused, as it would be super risky and be more likely to kill her than help. She would rather die in her own whole body than risk losing her last few weeks with her family.

After she passed, the remaining Molinas moved out of the city, to a small town a few hours north, to escape the grief and the terrible air quality that had been a part of Rose's quick decline in health.

Unfortunately, they just happened to pick the exact tiny town that the government had picked to dump their cyborg... pet projects. The ones who hadn't actually consented to their surgeries but had ended up surviving. Best to keep everyone with those stories contained while they championed the cyborg advancements. Especially since there were plenty of side effects...

Julie meets a lot of odd people on her first day at the local high school. These include a dude that never lowers the hood of his pink hoodie, a bassist in a leather jacket who never seems to stop smiling, a skater with a rather odd limp, and a boy with shaggy hair who never seems to hear what people say to him, always grooving along to some music no one else can hear. There's also a few other adult oddballs around, but I don't got the energy to write all those out.

Under the cut, it gets a little more specific about injuries and alterations to specific characters, so read at your own risk!

Turns out that all four of those odd boys are unwilling cyborgs who were a part of some of the first rounds of tests. Hey, they were all gonna die anyways, the government decided they might as well use them.

Willie was in a nasty car crash that smashed both legs and a few ribs. He has pretty good prosthetics now, but they don't always function properly. And if he keeps his hair long to cover the incision scar on the back of his neck, that's no one's business except his own.

Luke, Alex, and Reggie all nearly died of food poisoning back in LA, but due to a combination of slightly different reactions to the battery acid/food poisoning and scientists wanting to test out different tech, they all have different issues now.

Luke got some synthetic tissue repair on his organs and around his throat. But there was also some damage to his airways cause of throwing up so much, so there's some wiring stuff in there so he can still sort of smell... however that got a bit mixed around and so his hearing is pretty weak and the music he has stuck in his head tends to sound like it's coming from outside to him.

Reggie mostly got away without any organ damage, but his face got kinda messed up. Now he looks pretty normal, except his jaw and lips can't move a lot. So he's stuck with a permanent semi-smile. It's not creepy usually, just kinda sad. He tries to stay upbeat to match his face.

Alex got the worst damage to his digestive system. The connections between his organs and brain are mostly man made now, whether that's wires for neurotransmitting or fake tissue on the lining of his stomach. However, when the scientists realized they had someone with a diagnosed anxiety disorder, they... well they might as well try, since he's probably dead anyways. So there's also a metal panel on the back of his head. It didn't work, and the hair won't grow back around it. Hence the hood.

Somehow they all become friends and help each other kinda come to terms with their lives. And also play lots of music. Though the shadow of the head researcher, Dr. Covington, looms over them all... OKAY that's what I got for tonight! More thoughts may come later, but that's my rough idea! I hope you enjoyed!!!

#legolas tag #julie and the phantoms #legolas answers asks #jatp #jatp fanfic #alex mercer #willie jatp #julie molina #luke patterson #reggie peters #I have more thoughts about how everyone else fits into this story #I just don't have the energy to type it out #ask me later #if you want to know

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dalekofchaos · 10 months

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Why Sammy Emily should be the CEO of Fazbear Entertainment and the villain of the new era of FNAF

In the Silver Eyes trilogy, Freddy's co-founder Henry Emily has two children. Charlie and Sammy. At first we thought William killed Sammy, then we later find out that Charlie was the one he killed, Charlie is remade via Charliebots and Sammy just lives with his mother.

The games have never alluded to Sammy's existence. The story was not thought out in FNAF 2, but it's suggested The Puppet was originally meant to be possessed by a boy as the Give Cake minigame says "SAVEHIM" so maybe Sammy was meant to be The Puppet. TSET most likely made Scott change his mind and switched to Charlie.

Now what if the fate of Sammy in the books happens in the games. Imagine this. Your father abandons you. Your sister's death is all he thinks about. He lets his pain and grief consume him and leaves you and your mother behind. Throughout your life you are bitter over what your father did and decides to rebuild what his father destroyed, but better.

Sammy is the heir of Fazbear Entertainment and those who want to rebuild the brand would flock to Sammy.

Sammy being the new villain of the franchise would slap. Think of it.

Imagine the story of a kid who's father forgot about him over the grief of his preferred child, Charlie. With Sammy having to grow up in the shadow of his grieving father, always third in his mind two his two favorite kids. His daughter and his business. Imagine if in the story that Henry had rubbed off on Sammy in the worst way possible. And that all Sammy learned from his father is how to step on other people in the ladder to success, which Sammy deciding to use his anger and neglect to not only just walk the way of his dad, no, but to take the extra step and do it better. With Sammy becoming a very successful businessman, growing industry lead tech companies, while his dad and the company he had started just rotted alone in the dark and that is the catalyst for the new era of FNAF when Sammy found out his father had died in a fire in his own crummy little restaurant, Sammy saw it as an opportunity to strike. Using whatever legal leverage he had as the son of the former of Fazbear Entertainment, along with his exuberant amount of cash and influence to reconstruct the company his dad once owned. But unlike his dad, who always wanted to keep the franchise in a cheap and nostalgic past, Sammy was going to take the company to the future. But how exactly? By doing the opposite of his father and dancing with the trauma the franchise had endured. Sammy knowing that the company was a national pariah at this point, but instead of trying to cover it up as previous owners of the franchise had done, he decided to run full force with it. With Sammy commissioning a series of Indie Horror Games to jump on the growing popularity of the franchise becoming a trendy creepypasta/urban legends fodder. Sowing the seeds of well timed publicity stunts for the franchise and at the perfect moment bringing back the Pizzerias themselves, but with a modern twist. Not letting the nostalgia holding the franchise back like his father did, but instead using it as a springpath forward. With all this bringing us the Pizzaplex and Fazbear Entertainment that we all know today and all while creating new monsters within the Fazbear name to sell a profit.

Creating Glitchtrap to create the new boogeyman of the franchise and unintentionally creating Vanny. But to Sammy, a new killer means a new form of profit for Fazbear and further spitting on the memory of his father. You could even have the theory that Charlie is haunting the Pizzaplex as a means to stop her brother and using Gregory to help stop him. Or why not go all the way? Why not make Sammy unwittingly responsible for everything? Have Sammy being the one who locked Charlie out of Fredbear's on that dark and stormy night and this new story is a battle between a cold hearted soulless businessman and a vengeful sister seeking to bring everything he build down.

That would make for an amazing story and one hell of a direction to take the franchise in the future. Focusing on the unintended legacy and domino effects of the hurt that the characters of the past caused, instead of just pointlessly reviving them to pad out the future.

#Five Nights At Freddy's #FNAF #Sammy Emily #William Afton #Henry Emily #Charlie Emily #Vanny

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rhythmic-idealist · 7 months

Text

Have I posted about Rika Lives AU? Thinking so much about Rika Lives AU.

Gojo shows up after something dramatic happens with Rika. Both of her parents have mysteriously died in her company—maybe it's finally her grandmother, this time. Or maybe it's something else. Yuuta had just walked her home, after their usual long back and forth over "now I'll walk you home" "but we just walked you home!" "and who will walk with you?" "Rikaaaaaa, your grandma will be mad if you're late" - and after dallying a block away from home with about twenty minutes of this, she'd kissed his cheek and he'd tenderly kissed the top of her hair like it's the most delicate task he's ever had, like at this routine parting he's really, seriously worried about whether they're going to see each other tomorrow.

And then there's Rika in the rubble of her grandmother's death, and there's Yuuta, winded, sprinting back because he heard a noise.

And Rika cries on him, a little panicked, a little bloodied, I don't know what happened, Yuuta, do we have to call the police right now, can I sleep at your house tonight— and a voice that doesn't sound at all sorry for interrupting apologizes for interrupting.

It's a tall blindfolded man. Both jump, though Yuuta yelps and jumps harder, before placing himself immediately in front of her, shaking on his little twig legs.

Satoru Gojo explains the sorcery that has just gone down here. He also explains what happens to kids who have a rough time controlling it, but that's not fair, right? Good news is there's a school where no hair-triggered old men have any say-so over the students inside. Does she want in? It's... prooooobably the better option.

Yuuta stands his ground and reaches behind himself to take her hand. Then he turns to face her, because he wants to say it really does sound like it might be a good idea, Rika. I'll go with you. (His voice hardens on that last bit, and he casts a look back over his shoulder at Tall And Blonde.)

Satoru Gojo goes haha oh man yeah you're definitely going with her. Hey Rika out of curiosity. Can you see that? (Gestures in a vague, wide circle around Yuuta's, like... aura.) ...No? Interesting.

So they're off to Jujutsu Tech.

It's better that they're together.

It's better that Yuuta is there, that that isn't changing. Somehow, it's weird for Yuuta to be there during the bad. He's proven himself more than willing to be there during the bad. He goes and negotiates with his parents every time Rika wants to spend the night, even though she's starting to get too old for it to seem innocent even if she's sleeping in the living room (when she is, they usually both are—falling asleep on the couch, Yuuta usually slumping against her and drooling first. He scrambles apart in the morning and tells her she should have woken him, what if his parents came out?). It's better that they're together—that Rika happens to her family again and well, this time, there's no one left of them to decide if they're still willing to tolerate their child, but Yuuta still wants her. They're still a duo.

Cursed spirits—she's learned that they're called—never bothered them when Yuuta was around, so yes she'd assumed he was a little special too, but she didn't really assume it was in the same way. She clung to him because he is Yuuta, because she loves him and he loves her, and the only thing they need is each other. But she did dally on going away from him because the cursed spirits that hate her seem to leave him alone. She didn't know he was in on that world. He wasn't; he says he hasn't seen one before. Gojo thinks this is because they're scared of him. That's funny to both Yuuta and Rika, admittedly.

It's better that they're together. It's better that Yuuta would have come along whether he was a sorcerer or not, probably would have fistfought that creepy guy if he'd had to, and Yuuta has never been in a fistfight.

It's weird for Yuuta to be let in on her one big secret from him.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #rika orimoto #yuuta okkotsu

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andavs · 1 year

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9-1-1 based Men in Black AU?

My first thought is that Buck and Eddie are going to be known as Agents “BnE” which is hilarious.

My second thought is that MIB agents don’t technically exist, and I made myself sad thinking about how Chris factors into that. Obviously Eddie is the one doing the whole K thing and checking up on his son through satellites and desperately wishing he could be there with him. But how did they become separated and why does Eddie stay away?

Maybe he and Chris got caught up as innocent bystanders in a MIB/alien mess. They aren’t injured but plenty of people are, so Eddie with his military medic training and stellar record tries to help the situation. He helps an injured alien, not realizing they aren’t human until he’s keeping them from bleeding out blue goo and he has no idea what’s going on but he’s not going to let them die if he can help.

The alien dies, but gives Eddie something important right before. Maybe something that locks onto him so only he can use it and he can’t hand it off to the MIB and walk away. It’s the key to saving the world, because of course it is.

And to be extra angsty, MIB neuralyzes everyone on the scene so as far as anyone's concerned, Eddie was killed in a big mass casualty accident, so Chris is living with Eddie’s parents and it kills him every day that he can’t be with him yet. Because either he saves the world, or the world ends and then it doesn’t really matter anyway. (In his more pessimistic moments, he wants to say fuck it and go find Chris anyway, because the world is going to end either way and he should at least be with his son when it happens.)

So MIB recruits him to save the world and he gets paired up with Buck. I feel like Buck should be the alien tech guy who’s trying to figure out this thing the alien gave Eddie and how it works exactly. First he tries to disconnect it from Eddie so he can forget everything and go home, but then they accept that they’re both going to have to see this thing through and work together. Buck’s the one who first shows Eddie how to check on Chris from afar, because he also keeps tabs on Maddie.

Hen and Chim (H and C) are obviously partners and a legendary team. Athena (A or maybe Alpha to be cool like Zed) is in charge of the LA office, and Bobby (R) is the one who actually manages the agents, sending out teams.

Meanwhile in Texas, Chris runs away from home to find his dad because he wasn’t totally neuralyzed and remembers seeing his dad alive and helping people. He remembers seeing something not quite human, and the therapists keep saying it’s a way for him to process his grief but he knows. And he knows that his dad needs help because his dad said he’d never leave him again, and his dad never lies.

And then it turns out the gadget isn’t directly tied to only Eddie, but it also works for Chris, and Chris is the one who saves the world in the end. And then Eddie and Chris hug and cry under a clear, starry night sky in the California desert, and Buck realizes he’s kind of in love with this tiny family and wants to stay with them forever.

The only problem is that Eddie and Chris need to leave MIB and then they won't remember him anymore. And maybe Buck could ask for a new life close to them after being neuralyzed, but MIB is all Buck has and leaving and starting all over again alone is a terrifying thought.

But! After they save the world and while Eddie and Chris are finishing up at the MIB office, getting ready to leave for the last time, Buck checks in on Maddie. Just to make sure she’s alright because it was a close one, and he finds that she’s no longer in Boston with Doug. She’s right there in LA, looking for her little brother whose postcards abruptly stopped coming and she’s determined to find him.

And then maybe the whole gang decides to retire together because Bobby and Athena have been doing this job for way too long but they’ve had this office romance that they don’t want to lose.

Chim meets Maddie after she finds Buck and they’re immediately smitten with each other.

Turns out Eddie's pretty into Buck too, and Chris thinks he's the coolest person ever. Maddie's finally back in his life and she doesn't plan on leaving ever again. He's not really starting over alone like he thought he would be, and suddenly leaving the MIB doesn't seem quite so scary.

And then Hen’s got a big ole crush on the rocket scientist who got caught up in this end of the world nonsense.

A big neuralyzer flash, and they’re all first responders, totally oblivious to the extraterrestrial chaos going on around them. But late at night when Buck and Eddie are asleep, Chris likes to sneak out into the yard and look up at the stars and wave to the MIB agents keeping an eye on them. (Back at MIB headquarters, Ravi always waves back.)

#unexpected combo but i kind of love it?

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pinktintedmonocle · 2 years

Note

93. Please, please, please make it post season 5!

93: "say you want me, and I'm yours"

Thanks for the prompt! I decided to go with Danzen (Daniel/Chozen) as the ship for this one, and, as requested, it's post season 5.

Daniel knocked softly on the door of the hospital room. Getting no response, he opened the door slightly and peered around it to see Chozen sitting up in bed, headphones clamped around his ears, nodding along to a beat only he could hear. Daniel grinned as he entered the room, walking over to the chair by the side of the bed.

“Daniel-san!”, Chozen exclaimed, pulling off the headphones and pressing pause on the Walkman.

“Johnny lend you that?”, Daniel asked, sitting down and resting the bag he’d been carrying in his lap.

“Ah, yes, very much enjoying his choice of music, Zebra especially.”

“Well, when you’re out of here we should get you something a bit more high tech than that old thing, and I can introduce you to some of my favourites too; Chicago, Christopher Cross, Billy Joel.”

Chozen smiled softly. “I would like that very much, Daniel-san.”

“So, how are you holding up? You feeling better?”

“Feeling very well, after all, only a-”

“-flesh wound, I know, I know”, Daniel finished for him with a chuckle. “Although I think maybe the doctors here don’t quite agree with you on that, given the amount of stitches you needed.”

They exchanged a smile before Daniel pulled a small plastic container out of the bag.

“The care here may be top-notch, but I know the food can be not so great, so I brought something for you.” He took the lid off the container and held it out to Chozen. “The famous LaRusso ponzu toro. Thought it might be nice to have a little taste of home while you’re in here. And I actually prepared it with a yanagi ba that I picked up on my first trip to Okinawa.”

“Thank you, very much”, Chozen said graciously as he took the box. “It looks delicious, most thoughtful of you.”

“No problem at all, it’s the least I can do after everything you’ve done for me”, Daniel responded, standing up. “Right, I’m going to go check on Johnny. Enjoy the fish, and try and get some rest.”

“Daniel-san, wait”, said Chozen, fingers reaching out to curl around Daniel’s wrist. “There – there is something I need to say.”

“What is it?”, Daniel asked, lowering himself back down and leaning forward.

Chozen took a deep breath. “When I was lying in water after fight, there was moment when I did not know if I would survive.”

“Oh, Chozen, I’m so sorry you had to go through that-”

Chozen held up a hand to silence him, shaking his head. “It is OK, no need for apology. But it made me think of all things that would go unsaid if I did not live, and of one thing in particular that I should have said long time ago. When I told Johnny-san that Kumiko is special lady, that is true, but – but there is also special man. You, Daniel-san. I know you are happy with family, but I want you to know that if ever you say you want me, I am yours.”

As Daniel’s eyes grew even larger than normal, Chozen closed the gap between them, lips gently brushing against Daniel’s before pulling back.

“Chozen, I-”

“You do not need to say anything, Daniel-san. Go see Johnny-san.”

Daniel nodded mutely, standing up and making his way over to the door. Before he walked through it he glanced back at Chozen to see the other man already busying himself with the tuna.

“Hey”, greeted Amanda out in the corridor. “How’s he doing?”

“Uh, yeah, fine”, Daniel replied distractedly. Without thinking he brought a hand up to his mouth, fingers touching his lips as the events of the last few minutes replayed themselves in his mind.

Amanda smirked. “Ah, so he finally kissed you?”

Daniel looked at her in surprise. “Yes! Wait, did you know-”

“Daniel, that man flew halfway across the world for you at the drop of a hat, has spent the last few months fervently defending you, went undercover at Cobra Kai for you, and then nearly died trying to take down Silver. Of course I knew how he felt. In fact, I’d wager that most people who have met him since he arrived in the Valley can tell how he feels about you.”

Daniel gawped at her. “That’s – that’s – fuck.” He shook his head. “I had no idea.”

“Well, you have been fighting a karate war for the past few years, so I’ll give you a pass for not noticing, even if it was painfully obvious.” She looped an arm through her husband’s and started to steer him down the corridor. “Come on, let’s go see Johnny. I’ve got a Coors Banquet in my purse which I think he more than deserves.”

#daniel larusso #chozen toguchi #amanda larusso #danzen #cobra kai #the karate kid #cobrakaifanfiction #cobrakaifanfic #cobra kai fanfiction #cobra kai fanfic

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nataliedanovelist · 2 years

Text

ROTTMNT - The Apocalypse That Was, But Never Is ch.5

After a lifetime of rebelling against the Kraang, Casey Jones II has a lot to adjust to. He can handle real food and new clothes just fine, but having his parents alive and well and right in front of him is entirely new - and slightly terrifying - territory.

A fanfic dedicated to @fanficmaniatic and @soundwavemain for creating a beautiful idea that I decided to push a little bit further. You can read the premise here.

Posted on AO3.

Ch.4 - Ch.6 (finale)

~~~~~~~~~~

“You have to swear not to tell anyone, Mikey!”

“No! No no no, no more secrets! I don’t do well with secrets!”

“Michelangelo, please! I’m not ready! Don’t tell anyone please!”

“Ack! O… Okay.”

“Swear it!”

“Ugh, fine! I promise! But you should tell them.”

Now Mikey really regretted making that promise.

It was no secret that Mikey was bad at keeping secrets. Non-important ones, maybe, but being responsible for a pet’s disappearance or knowing someone is secretly biologically related to you were really very important.

But knowing only half of the secret did help a little; trying to figure out who Casey's father was distracted Mikey from the fact that he knew a secret and had to tell somebody.

No offense to Cassandra, but it was hard to imagine any of the turtles dating her, let alone having a kid with her. Then again, an apocalypse can change a lot about a person, and if Mikey’s math was right, Casey was born seven years into the apocalypse, so maybe after getting to know her a few more years…

Mikey winced. He was pretty confident he wasn’t Casey’s dad.

Leo? That would explain why Casey called him “sensei” and looked up to him. But Casey claimed he hardly knew his dad. Maybe he was lying. Maybe that’s just how he felt after seeing how different Leo is as a teenager than a war-beaten forty-year-old.

Donnie? That would explain why Casey inherited a lot of tech, and why Casey’s old cape bore his insignia. And Casey never out-right said it, but a comment here and there has led Mikey to believe that Donnie died when Casey was very young.

What about Raph? Casey hasn’t said a single word about Raph. It could be because Raph was the first to die. Maybe the Kraang didn’t miss when he protected Leo. But Casey said that didn’t happen in his time. But maybe he was referring to getting the key back.

Mikey was stuck. Until he learned a little more… But he had to tell someone!

“BARRY!” Mikey yelled, bursting into the cafeteria the next morning while Baron prepped the lunch for the day. “BARRY BARRY BARRY BARRY! I GOTTA TELL YOU SOMETHING!”

“Michelangelo!” Baron stood up straight and wiped his sweaty forehead; he really needed to invest in a new can opener, because his old one sucked. “What is it?! Another invasion?!”

“No! Even better!” Mikey grabbed his father by the neck of his uniform and yelled, nose to nose, “CASEY’S A HAMATO!”

Baron blinked at the turtle’s enthusiasm. Once the sentence sinked in (and the ringing in his ears settled down), he put a hand on his wrist and asked calmly, “How about you elaborate on that while we prepare the midday meal?”

Mikey smiled and nodded, excited to do an activity with one of his dads, and so he, Sloppy Joseph, and Baron prepped the lunch meat and sides for the high school, all the while Mikey filling Baron in on what he knew. Baron had already met the time traveler and knew he was Cassandra’s son, so a major clue as to who his father was and what that means was intriguing to the sheep.

“And he refuses to tell you who his father is?” Baron clarified.

“Yes!” Mikey exclaimed. “He says he’s not ready, but it’s not that big of a deal! Well, it is a big deal, but in a good way!”

“It does seem foolish to keep such an important fact hidden.” Baron agreed.

Mikey sighed and thought about it. “Yeah, but… if he’s worried about what his dad will think, if he’s worried how it’ll affect his parents’ relationship, then… maybe we should respect that.” He concluded, giving Baron a side glance. Honestly, just talking about it made Mikey feel so much better, and the issue didn’t seem as big anymore.

Baron smiled and said with a shrug, “I think Dr. Positive is right.” He clapped his hands together and said, “Now! Let us fill the mouth-holes of these humans trapped in their educational prison!”

Mikey grinned, put on a hair wig, face mask, gloves, and apron, and held a ladle heroically. “Let’s feed some teenagers, baby!”

~~~~~~~~~~

Casey was really nervous that Mikey was going to blow the whistle any day now. Every time they hung out as a group, he couldn’t help but keep an eye on the turtle, but as the days turned into weeks, his fear deteriorated. Soon it had been a full month since Mikey found out, and Casey’s sprained wrist was fully healed.

One night they sat around the main room, sitting on beanbags and pillows, eating snacks and having a racing video game tournament. While Leo and April had their turn, Cassandra came back with a big bowl of popped popcorn. Raph noticed and patted the seat next to him politely; she smiled and sat, offering some food as thanks for her seat, and Raph took a handful and shoved it in his mouth, impressing Cass.

“Y’know I can fit a whole fist in my mouth!” Raph shared when he swallowed his snack. “Wanna see?”

“No!” The room said in unison, except for Cass and Casey.

“YES!” Cassandra cheered, eyes sparkling, and she pumped her fists as she chanted, “Raph! Raph! Raph!”

As Raph shoved his fist in his mouth, Mikey winced as he laughed and looked away, putting a hand up between his face and his brother, meaning his line of vision now fell on Casey.

He watched Cass and Raph with an odd look on his face. He was smiling peacefully. Perfectly content and beyond happy. Dr. Feelings did some deep thinking, and he suddenly got an idea that the longer he thought on it, the more it made sense and the more things clicked.

Mikey’s jaw dropped, he pointed a finger, and yelled, “OH!”

Raph paused his party trick, his knuckles in his mouth, and everyone stared at the youngest turtle. Casey began to panic; he stood up, grabbed him by the arm, and asked over the loud, repetitive ohs, “Mikey, can I talk to you for a sec?!”

“OH! OO! OOOOOOH!”

“MIKEY I REALLY NEED TO TALK TO YOU!”

“OH OH OH!”

And Casey pulled Mikey into his bedroom.

The rest of the teenagers were confused (and completely oblivious of Leo taking advantage of the chaos and unplugging April’s controller so he would win), but shrugged and decided that if it was important they would find out later.

Casey tackled the yelling turtle onto his bed and covered his mouth, Mikey still screaming about his discovery. “Mikey! Calm down!”

He yelled behind Casey’s gloved hand for another minute, but he slowly quieted down, until Casey felt like it was safe to free his mouth. “Yes. Yes, okay? Yes.”

“Cassandra?!” Mikey hissed, sitting on his knees on Casey’s bed. “And Raph?!”

“Yes!” Casey shushed. “Okay, yes!”

“This… This is unbelievable!” Mikey whispered. “I mean, it’s great! But it’s unbelievable!”

“Which is why I didn’t want anyone to know!” Casey explained quietly, sitting on his knees opposite Mikey. “Listen, this timeline is already very different from mine. An apocalypse can change a lot of things, including if two people will end up together or not.”

Mikey felt like he was finally on the same page as Casey. “So you think they might not end up together because there isn’t an apocalypse?”

Casey sighed. “I don’t know. Mom… No one really liked talking about him. It hurt too much. But Master Leonardo told me that he knew his brother loved a lot of people, but no one quite the same way he loved my mom. And Mom…” The hybrid paused, old memories coming back, which made him smile and mutter, “I know she loved him. I know it.”

But he looked back at Mikey and added, “But a lot can change in a person. Time changes people. Circumstances change people. I’m not supposed to be born for a few more years, so maybe they’ll still end up together, maybe they won’t. Maybe they’ll only be really close friends. I can live with any of that.” Casey’s face hardened a little, and he concluded with, “But they’re my parents, and I’ll tell them when I’m ready. Okay?”

Mikey smiled, understanding, and said, “Okay.”

Casey patted his shoulder in thanks, smiling.

“Wow… I’m your uncle!” Mikey cheered, ignoring Casey’s shushing, though his smile stayed. “I have a nephew! This is amazing! I’m gonna take you for rides on our motorcycle and give you tips on how to ask someone out!”

“I think I’m good on dating tips.” Casey chuckled, getting off his bed so he could rejoin the video game competition. “I will take that motorbike ride.”

“You got it, CJJ!” Mikey cheered, putting an arm around his shoulders, and exiting the bedroom together.

~~~~~~~~~~

The weather was too nice to patrol in the stuffy Turtle Tank, so they leaped from building to building that evening, keeping an eye out for crime. In his cleaned-up apocalypse gear, Casey peered over a building with his mask on, his eyes able to see and read so much.

“Everything looks good so far, sensei.” Casey informed, then winced. “S-Sorry, Leo.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, bud.” Leo said, resting an arm across his shoulders. “You call me whatever you want. As long as it’s PG.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Raph said, stepping forward. “I know he was, like, the greatest ninja in your time, but why do you call him ‘sensei’?”

“He was my teacher. My master.” Casey explained, sitting on the edge so his legs dangled over the building. “After Mom died, he took me in and started training me. Master Leonardo taught me so much and let me go on so many missions with him!”

“Aw! You gave Splinter a grandkid!” Raph teased, rubbing the top of Leo’s head.

Mikey bit his lip. Casey gave Mikey a hard, pleading look, but Mikey smiled reassuringly and relaxed.

“Casey said I was the most powerful mystic warrior in the future!” Mikey told Raph proudly, remembering that he wasn’t in the tank for that fun conversation.

“He did?” He asked, then turned to Casey and asked, “He was?”

“He was!” Casey confirmed. “You saw how, with your help, he opened a portal through space! Well, twenty-four years into the future, he’s able to tear a hole in time!” He winced, and added as he rubbed his neck. “I mean, it kinda, sorta, might’ve torn him apart. Literally…”

“So no more time travel, got it.” Mikey promised with a wink.

Casey grinned and punched him in the elbow. “It’s all thanks to Master Michaelangelo that we got this second chance, that I’m here at all!”

“I’m so proud of you, little brother!” Raph said, throwing Mikey up in the air and letting him land on his shoulders.

“And Donnie,” Casey went on, enjoying the storytelling, enjoying reminiscing on the warriors his family grows up to be, the figures he looked up to as a child and strived to be more like. “You actually built my weapons just for me and taught me how to use them!”

He shot his grappling hook at a nearby, taller skyscraper, and swung from building to building like an acrobat. After a flip or two, he hung upside down in front of the turtles like a spider-themed superhero.

“A grappling hook and chainsaw-hockey-stick is impressive,” Donnie admitted, then pulled out a notepad and pen. “But what else do I invent? I need some new ideas!”

“Well,” Casey flipped back upright and landed on his feet, standing next to Leo as his grappling hook retracted. “You mostly focused on weapons for mystic-less soldiers and scouts to use. What made you so amazing was your ability to turn scraps of metal into inventions! You once turned a paperclip into a bazooka that Commander O’Niel used to wipe out an entire base!”

“Oh! A bazooka! Not bad, not bad…”

“Donnie, no bazookas!”

“You’re no fun.” Donnie pouted, arms crossed over his chest.

“So what about me?” Raph asked, smiling hopefully at Casey. “What do I do in the future?”

Casey paused, rubbed the back of his neck, and muttered, “Uh, well… I w-…”

Donnie groaned as his wristband started buzzing. “I’ve got to change that to something less obnoxious.” He muttered as he tapped away. “A 317-40.5 is occurring…”

“That’s bad guy code for a robbery at a local bank!” Said Casey.

The turtles stared dumbfounded at the time traveler, and Donnie muttered, “That’s… correct. How… How did you know that?”

“I grew up learning your codes.” Casey explained, then chuckled and added, “You used to read me your book instead of Grandpa Splinter’s scrolls. It froze Sensei nuts. Let’s go!” And he started swinging away.

“Hey, wait up!” Leo called, portaling himself, and Donnie, Mikey, and Raph followed.

Humans screamed and ran for cover, really hoping this wasn’t another mysterious force that was going to start transforming people and objects into monsters; if money was the only thing they wanted, they could have it.

Two mutant crab acrobats emerged from the building, claws full of bags of money, snickering and disappearing into the shadows of the alley and resting on the roof.

“Yes! We got the money!” Ben cheered as he took a peek at his loot. “Now what do we do?!”

“Honestly… I haven’t thought that far ahead.” Carl admitted.

“How about you take a short vacation to Painville!”

“Really?!” Leo laughed as the crabs turned and saw four turtles and a human standing on a taller building. “That was the best you could come up with?”

“Master Leonardo always beat me to the punchline.” Casey muttered as he smiled and rubbed his neck.

“How about you focus on the punch, and I’ll do the line.”

“Let’s move, Mad Dogs!” Raph declared, and they all leaped out of the way of shooting claws, ready for a fight.