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g0ldengubler · 3 years

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lunchtime ~ spencer reid

A/N: THIS IS VERY UNEDITED VERY HORRIBLE WRITING! i just wanted to get this out. this is a kink i have but never really talked about it. but i hope u still enjoy! it’s very weird so if you don’t want to read it you don’t have to :)

Category: smut (NSFW18+)

CW: rough sex, riding, doggystyle, special guests listening in

Summary: spencer reid works a lot. he’s an fbi agent, he can’t help but be a workaholic! but when you guys finally get time to yourselves, what happens when it’s risky interrupted?

Word Count: 2078

✨masterlist✨

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having a boyfriend who works in the FBI isn’t all rainbows and sunshine. Because of his job, Dr.Spencer Reid was always either gone on a case or working on cases at home. he could be doing it in the office, but spencer was a sweet guy and made a middle ground to see his girlfriend more. he was just as passionate about her as he was with his job, calling her every night when he was away, making sure to treat her when he got back or when he was done for the day. he made sure she knew she was important to him, which wasn’t something she ever felt from a guy who was a workaholic.

today was just like every other day. spencer got to do case files at home as there was no case as of then. Y/n tried her best to take care of him while working, as a return of the favor. She made him his favorite waffles that morning and even made him a fresh cup of coffee just the way he likes it-a cup of sugar with coffee to mix. He kissed her on the forehead, convinced that he didn’t deserve her. once he was done he went straight to work. In a way, y/n pretty much worked with him as his personal Penelope Garcia, as he was an old man when it came to computers.

it was lunchtime at this point. y/n walked into his office and stood in the door frame, watching his fingers move down the page in his book as he read. his fingers made her melt, and he knew that. clouds began to form in her head as thoughts of what he could do with this fingers took hold of her. she didn’t even notice he was wanting her attention as he snapped her out of her daydreams with a snap of his fingers.

“Bubs, are you ok?” spencer asked. he was still at his desk, his finger placed at the spot he was at. you looked back at him from his finger, noticing what he was wearing and it wasn’t helping your case at all. while he was wearing his favorite maroon cardigan that he thrifted (still lux though as it was ralph lauren), he also wore a pair of grey sweatpants. clever of him for the moments he had to video chat with people.

you were quickly out of your thoughts yet again as you felt your body move without you knowing before. you walked towards him as he turned his chair to your side. you noticed he was half hard in his pants, as the imprint of himself showed through. you sat on his lap and ran your fingers through your hair, peppering kisses below his ear. he chuckled, thinking you were being cute, but you were just getting started.

“it’s lunchtime bubs.” you whispered as you softly grind against him.

spencer put his hands on your his after guiding your body to straddle him. he guides them as his lips touch yours. “good,” he said in between kisses, gently rubbing circles over your shorts in the place you wanted him most, “i’m starving.”

not only was spencer the sweetest, softest man you’ve ever met, but he was also the sexiest and dirtiest. he was rough like a wild bear but soft as a teddy bear-taking such good care of you after he ruined you to filth. no one would ever believe the things you two have done together in the past year. no one would especially believe what happened today.

as spencer’s about to slide his hand down your shorts, his phone rang. he groan softly under his breath as his right hand left your side to grab his phone. you were a little annoyed at first, but once he put the phone to his ear, an idea popped into your head.

“hey hotch...” he said. you slowly leaned down and went back to the spot below his ear, sucking and nibbling it softly.

this wasn’t something new to the both of you. it was a fun little game you’d play if either of phones rang while you were in the middle of it, seeing how long they could last at acting normal. by now, spencer had got the hang of it and made it easy for him when it was any of his coworkers. today, however, he was almost struggling.

you heard other voices on the phone as well. you could tell by how low they all sounded that it was 3 of the men on his team.

“yeah, i was um...about to have lunch.”

you decided to try and break him a little, sucking a little bit harder.

“can i call y-“ a soft moan left his lips, cutting him off his sentence. his eyes bulged out of his head as his mouth fell open. you quickly coughed in a lower tone to help him out, trying not to laugh.

“yeah, luke i’m fine,” he said, “just stubbed my toe....shut up morgan!”

you giggled softly to yourself, but not softly enough. you heard laughing from his phone and realized you were busted.

“hi boys!” you said, jokingly sounding seductive.

spencer gave you a look that said ‘are you kidding me?’ which made you giggle even more. you hear morgan on the other end say, “aww, did we interrupt your lunch?”

“yeah, you did! we were just about to get started.”

spencer placed the phone back to his ear, taking a deep breath before speaking. “look seriously can we-“

he paused, listening to whoever was talking. slowly, spencer removed the phone from his ear and covered it with his shoulder. he looked unsure of himself, as if he was trying to gather the courage to speak.

“bubs,” he said weakly, “do you um...uh..d-do you want to...have the phone on speaker?”

you thought for a moment. you were always secretly into things like this, but never told spencer because you thought he would find it weird. but seeing him look kind of into it didn’t help the puddle forming in your shorts.

“you don’t have to if you don’t want to. whatever your comfortable with!”

you thought for one more moment before taking his phone out of his hands and putting it on speaker for him, setting it down on his desk. he looks at you confused.

“let’s put on a show for your coworkers, daddy.”

“ooooo coming in with the big guns already!” said Luke.

“y/n does not play.” said Hotch.

Spencer was frozen in his tracks. he couldn’t believe the words coming out of their mouths, let alone what was going on.

“well come on then daddy, give us a show! my popcorn is getting cold.” teased morgan.

spencer rolled his eyes at morgan before his lips attacked yours. you continued your grinding on him, this time he was grinding back. you moaned through the kiss as his hands went back in your shorts, rubbing circles on your clit.

“oh wow, spencer got a girl to moan like that!” said Morgan.

“is he making you feel good, hun?” asked hotch.

“fuck yesssss!” you let out a long moan as spencer moved faster with his motions. he let out a groan and cursed under his breath. you felt his pressed under your thigh and that made you try to hold in how turned on you really were. you held on for dear life on the armrests of his chair as he leaned back a little bit.

“are you getting close, baby girl?” asked morgan.

“yes yes yes fuuuck daddy please let me cum.”

“you wanna cum for me, angel?” asked spencer.

“yes omg please i’m so fucking close!”

“cum for him, princess.” said Luke.

before you could fall down the hill like on a roller coaster, you felt incomplete as he took his fingers out. you let out a little whine, letting the guys know he didn’t let you cum.

“ooooo doctor genius over there didn’t let her cum, how sad.” teased Luke.

“what are you going to do now?” asked Hotch.

“because she’s about to get fucked and really show you how much of slut she truly is. well, MY slut at least.”

spencer took his painfully hard cock out as you moved your shorts to the side. you felt the head enter you and shortly his whole length was slammed deep inside you before you even make a sound. you let out a quiet gasp before a loud moan escaped from your throat.

he let you adjust, but only for a short moment as he quickly began pounding you, holding you from your ass. you were a moaning mess at this point, letting out more dramatic, pornographic ones for the guys.

“fuck he’s really an animal isnt he?” teased Hotch.

“you like being pounded like a dirty slut?” asked Luke.

you moaned out a yes, but it wasn’t enough for them.

“use your words, baby girl.” said Morgan.

“i love being pounded like a dirty slut!”

“tell them who’s slut you are.” spencer growled.

you held onto him from behind his head and pushed his face in between your tits. “i’m you’re slut, spencer,” you moaned, “i’m daddy’s little slut!”

“you’re such a good girl, y/n.” said Hotch.

“fuck daddy can i cum? please let me cum ive been a good girl!”

“what do you think?” spencer asked.

“cum, baby girl.” said morgan

“cum for him, princess.” said Luke.

“cum hard all over his cock, baby.” said Hotch.

you finally came all over his cock, screaming as the pleasure surged through your body. spencer helped you ride out your orgasm and let you catch your breath.

“holy shit” said Luke.

“oh we’re not done yet,” said spencer, “she deserves a reward for doing so well.”

he takes you off his cock and makes you stand up, flipping you around so you were in front of him, your ass sticking out. he quickly put his cock back inside of you and luke and morgan cheered on. he pounds you harder this time, making sure you lose your voice by the time you’re done.

“youre such a dirty slut,” spencer growled, taking a handful of your hair and pulling it, “letting me fuck you over the phone with not just my friends, my coworkers. you like putting on a show for people? you want people to know how much of a fucking slut you are for me?”

your eyes rolled to the back of your head at his words. the pure filth in them almost pushing you off the edge as you squeezed around his cock. even the guys grew silent.

“fuck keep doing that angel, keep squeezing daddy’s cock like tha-shit im close. you want my cum inside you?”

“oh my god yes please, i want to be full of your cum daddy!”

hearing you say those words through him over the edge as you feel him filling you up, hearing him moan your name and cursing under his breath. he stayed inside you for a bit before he caught his breath and left to go get something to clean you up with. when he comes back he looks at you sitting in front of him, watching his cum drip out of you and onto his work chair. he wasn’t even mad about it.

“you did so good, bubs.” he says, walking over and kneeling in front you before cleaning you up.

“you were amazing, baby!” you say. he comes back up and kisses you, and it was hard to break away. but somehow you did after what felt like hours and laughed at yourselves for what you just did. you then remembered they were still on the phone. spencer grabs his phone and faces it towards them.

“well? how was the show?” you asked.

“holy-“

“fuck.” luke cut morgan off.

you had left them speechless before hotch finally spoke up.

“....we will not speak of this at work.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #mgg smut #spencer reid fan fiction #derek morgan smut #aaron hotchner smut #luke alvez smut #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut

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mandoalorian · 3 years

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I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Six: Wonder

Summary: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person's relationship with his son. You've heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You've felt his pain and anguish and you've never been able to relate to anything more. But things don't come easy for you, and they certainly don't come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: mentions of food and drink, tooth-rotting fluff and as always, a smidge of angst

Word count: 5,200>

Masterlist

Previous - Chapter Six - Next

A beam of golden sunlight shone through the small crack in the curtain, warming your exposed skin, waking you up. Maxwell was still sleeping, lightly snoring and his bare chest rising and falling underneath you. You noticed that his cozy sweater from the night before had been discarded on the floor by the bed, but he was still wearing his pants, and his arm was lazily draped around your body. He held you close and tight, like he was afraid to let you go. You snuggled into him, relishing the moment and hoping it would never end. But you were awake, and it was a new day, and you had a lot to do.

You slipped out of Max’s arms, careful not to wake him up, and smiled when you remembered the night before. Kissing a man, a man like him, felt like a dream come true. It was something you had only imagined when you had read tales of it back on Themyscira. But it was even better than you thought. His lips were sweet like honey and his touch was strong yet gentle. It was perfect, and you wished for the moment it could happen again. Realising you were still completely naked, you glanced into Maxwell’s walk-in closet and wondered if you were entitled to select something out to wear. You figured it would be rude to do so without asking him, so you picked up his forest green sweater that he wore yesterday and pulled it over your body.

You padded back downstairs into the dining room and grabbed a notepad and pen. You noted that Maxwell kept one near the front door of his home. Sitting at the table, you opened up the book. You had six days until the court date. Six days to figure out a way to bring Maxwell and Alistair together for good this time. But you had no idea where to begin. You knew nothing about the legal system or how this kind of thing worked. Back on Themyscira, if Hippolyta wished to gain justice, she would simply use the lasso of truth. You were there, many years ago, when she used the lasso on Captain Steve Trevor. You hadn’t met the pilot, only heard from your mother Hestia who provided Hippolyta with the lasso, but apparently, he revealed himself to be a spy. You considered it. You considered the implications of using your lasso in court, but doing so in front of so many people would mean you’d have to give up your powers. There had to be another way. Before you could put pen on paper, you gasped, feeling a pair of hands grab your waist.

“Good morning.” you heard Maxwell from behind you. His voice was low and husky in the morning and he was grinning, feeling happier than he’d felt in such a long time.

“Good morning handsome.” you smiled, turning around in your chair and looking up at him with doe eyes. His dark blonde hair was still wavy and disheveled, and he was wearing a plain, light grey t-shirt. It fit tight around his biceps and really highlighted the broadness of his shoulders. He looked really, really good. You spotted a pink blush creep upon Maxwell’s cheeks at your compliment.

“You look nice in my sweater,” he noticed, tugging on it slightly. “What are you doing there?”

“Oh, I was trying to figure out an approach for the court case this Sunday,” you frowned, biting your lip. “Do you think we could get one of those lawyer things like Theodore mentioned?”

“This short notice? I doubt it. But I can have Raquel make some phone calls and she’ll see what she can do. I uh- I appreciate you doing this for me. You don’t have to.” Maxwell said sheepishly, running his ring clad fingers through his hair.

You stood up from your seat and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his body and holding him close. You pressed a kiss into his lips. He tasted just as sweet as the night before, and the skin was just as soft. “I like doing that.” you told Maxwell, completely dismissing what he said before. “Kissing you. I mean.”

Maxwell tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and cupped your face. He ran his thumb over the height of your cheekbone and stared at you in complete admiration. “I like it too,” he agreed, his voice quiet as he leaned in and kissed you again, this time swiping his tongue over your lower lip. He was so good at it, and you wondered how many women he’d kissed before. You loved the way the curve of his nose pressed against your skin and how his eyes would flutter shut as his senses overwhelmed him. You loved the way his hands navigated around your body like it was simply just meant to be. When he pulled away, it was to catch breath, and he pressed his forehead against yours. “Let me make you breakfast.” he whispered.

“Or we could just keep kissing?” you suggested, already tugging on his hair for another one. He smiled, planting a quick peck against your lips and pulled away again.

“Believe me, I want that more than anything,” he exhaled shakily, dragging his hands up and down your arms. “But you haven’t eaten since you got here. You must be hungry. What did you eat on Themyscira?”

“Hmm, fruit? Berries? We picked them fresh from the bushes every morning and they’d last us the rest of the day.” you told him and he nodded slowly.

“Well we don’t have berries, but I can do you scrambled eggs,” Maxwell shrugged, already grabbing a few eggs from the refrigerator. “Is that okay?”

“What kind of eggs…” you said, narrowing your eyes.

“Uh… chicken eggs?” Maxwell shrugged, holding an egg up into the light to analyse it.

“You eat chicken eggs?!” You gasped, your eyes widening in disbelief.

“Yeah?!” Maxwell replied, trying to suppress a grin at your reaction. “So many people do! We crack a few, whisk it and put it in a pan!” You slapped your hands over your mouth feeling shocked. Maxwell chuckled, putting the eggs back and taking your hands, pulling them away from your face. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

You scrunched up your nose. “I don’t want chicken eggs for breakfast.” you mumbled.

“That’s okay,” Max nodded. “I can do oatmeal or pancakes, or we have cereal. Check that cupboard over there.” He said, pointing in the general direction to a cupboard by the kitchen sink. You followed his finger and opened the wooden door. Inside the cupboard were a few boxes of opened miscellaneous cereal. One box in particular caught your intention. It was a red box decorated with a rainbow and a leprechaun and the words read in a bold yellow font ‘Lucky Charms’. You brought it out and presented it to Max with an eager grin. “Oh, those are Alistair’s favourite,” Max grinned, taking out a bowl, spoon and carton of milk. “Help yourself.”

You smiled with gratitude and dug your hand in the box, grabbing a handful of cereal. You looked close at the little oat pieces mixed with the multi-coloured marshmallow bits, even bringing them close to your nose to smell. They were sweet, and the vibrancy of the marshmallows intrigued you. You tried a pink one and moaned as the sugary texture dissolved in your mouth. Max looked over to you as he brewed his coffee, his eyes wide as he watched you eat the cereal out of your hands. “No no no,” he chastised softly, placing his mug back down on the counter and walking over to you. He put the cereal box in your hands and unscrewed the cap on the carton of milk. “Pour some of it in the bowl, and then pour the milk over the top. Then you eat it with a spoon.” he taught you.

“Oh,” you sighed knowingly, understanding why he’d brought out the other utensils and ingredients for you. As he turned back to his coffee, you tried one of the oat pieces. They didn’t taste as nice as the marshmallows, so you put the rest of the oat pieces back into the box and picked out only the sweet soft bits of cereal, dropping them into the bowl. You poured the milk over, careful not to spill any, just like he’d told you. “I’m getting good at this!”

“You are!” Maxwell laughed, sitting down next to you with his mug of coffee and a few slices of toast. He peeked into your bowl and shook his head. “You’re just like Alistair,” he rolled his eyes. “He only eats the marshmallows.”

“Of course he does,” you giggled, taking a spoonful of your selective cereal. “They’re delicious.”

“So I was thinking about the dreamstone,” Maxwell said, taking a sip of his coffee. “If I was possessed by Romulus, the dreamstone would have been Roman. Which means the remaining dreamstone belonged to Dolos, meaning it’s Greek. But how do we find it?”

“If only we knew someone who could help,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Someone who knows about this kind of stuff just as much as we do.”

You stared down into your bowl of cereal, watching as the colour drained from the marshmallows and created rainbow swirls in your milk.

“Actually,” Maxwell exhaled, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “There is someone.” The thought of going to see that someone again, swarmed Max with fear and dread.

“Well- who?” you asked, dropping your spoon into the bowl with a clank.

“Diana.” Maxwell replied nervously.

“Diana Princess of Themyscira?!” You gasped, your jaw dropping.

“I’m pretty sure she goes by Diana Prince but-”

“Max you’re a genius! Where can we find her?” You stood up abruptly.

“Listen, I’m not sure if it’s a good idea. The last time I saw her… I mean it was only a few days ago but it was not good.”

You took Max’s hand and pulled him up. “Diana is forgiving. Whatever happened, she holds no judgement, I assure you that,” you reassured him. “Diana could be the key to knowing where the final dreamstone is.”

Max nodded, sighing in defeat. You were right and he knew it. “She works at the Smithsonian museum. It opens to the public at nine, so we have a few hours to kill, but we’ll get down there as soon as possible.”

You smiled and enveloped him into a hug. “Thank you.” you murmured, squeezing him tightly.

“It’s okay,” he promised, hugging you back. “But there is something I gotta ask you about.”

“What is it?”

“I haven’t been out much since I renounced my wish. I went to the park with Alistair, and then Black Gold, and visited Julianna, but that’s it. I’ve been hiding from the world, living in fear that I’ll have to face some kind of repercussion for my actions. It only makes sense, right? I’m thinking about federal prison. Maybe even get sentenced to death. That’s if someone doesn’t see me on the street and kills me. But I don’t get it. I haven’t been noticed. Nobody cares. Julianna didn’t mention any of it to me, and she loves to bring up all my mistakes. Trust me. It’s just… there’s something not right.” Maxwell exclaimed. It was crazy. You were the only one he trusted to talk about this to. “I’m not sure,” you hummed, understanding his concern. “Maybe Diana will know?”

“Maybe,” Maxwell sighed. “I’m just worried about even being allowed in the Smithsonian. I kinda stole the dreamstone by nefarious means,” You tilted your head and frowned. “No don’t look at me like that!” Max pouted, raising both his eyebrows at you.

“Like what?” you questioned.

“Like you’re disappointed in me,” Maxwell huffed, running his hand through his hair. “I just want to make all of this right.”

“And you will,” you promised him. “We will. Together.”

Every little word you spoke, every action you took, filled his heart with warmth. You gave his life meaning and your presence made him feel a sense of belonging. You really cared about him. You were literally like his guardian angel, only instead coming from heaven, you’d come from the magical land of Themyscira.

“I guess if we have a few hours to kill… we should finish breakfast and find you some clothes. Something decent to wear,” Maxwell shrugged. “I don’t like the idea of leaving the house but I don’t think we have a choice,” he hummed, looking down at his green sweater that was draped over your body. You couldn’t just live in his shirts. You couldn’t keep walking around town, pant-less. And you certainly couldn’t wear your Amazonian warrior tunic and armour. “My tailor who makes my suits has her own boutique just off East Ave, I’m sure we can find something suitable.”

“It’ll be open this early?” you asked, crooking your head.

“They live there. Whenever I’ve needed last minute alterations before a charity event or gala, I’ve relied on them. Visited them during the early hours of the morning and Belinda- oh, she’s simply just a star. She works quickly and efficiently,” Maxwell praised, grabbing his car keys. He threw a coat in your direction and you quick Amazonian reflexes meant that you caught it in an instant. You smiled and mumbled a thank you before sliding your arms into his coat and zipping it up. You put on your gladiator sandals and met Maxwell in the car outside.

The journey was short, and you even vaguely recognised the area from your visit to Black Gold Cooperative. Maxwell fiddled with some buttons on the dashboard when he stopped at a red light. “What are you do-”

A loud booming melody cut you off and you jumped back into your seat.

“So don't become some background noise, a backdrop for the girls and boys, who just don't know, or just don't care, and just complain when you're not there, You had your time, you had the power, you've yet to have your finest hour, radio…”

“What is that?” you gasped and Max laughed, turning a knob down so the voice quietened down.

“You must’ve had music on Themyscira,” he chuckled. “That is Queen.”

“The Queen?!” You practically choked. “If I heard Queen Hippolyta sing like that I-”

“No,” Maxwell laughed, unable to hide his smile. “Just Queen. They’re a band. They sing songs and play instruments.”

“What do they sing about?” You quizzed curiously and Maxwell adjusted the volume once more.

“Listen.” he urged, pressing down on the ignition and drove away as the light turned green.

“All we hear is radio ga ga, radio goo goo, radio ga ga,”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Ga ga and goo goo? That makes no sense.”

“Keep listening!”

“Radio what’s new, radio someone still loves you.”

“It’s about love.” you smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up. You placed your hand on your heart. You loved that behind the baby-ish words, the song had a meaning so beautiful and powerful. It really illustrated that love was still the most important thing in the whole world. Maxwell’s voice brought you out of your deep chain of thought.

“Actually I think it’s about the commercialization of radio stations-” Maxwell exclaimed and looked at you in the reflection of the rear view mirror. Your smile fell and you looked even more perplexed by his words. What was he thinking? Of course you wouldn’t understand the ins and outs of how MTV had destroyed modern radio. So he decided to compromise. “Yeah okay, you’re right,” he shrugged, pursing his lips into a fine line to refrain from smiling. “It’s about love.”

You smiled once more, subconsciously swaying to the rhythm. Max couldn’t stop watching you. You were so pure, and you looked at this world with so much joy and compassion. You were always so excited to learn new things and it was so endearing. If anything, it made Maxwell want to be more like you. You helped him not take things for granted. By the time Queen sung the final verse, you had already familiarised yourself with the words, even changing some and earning a few laughs out of Maxwell. As the song finished you pointed your finger at Max who was just pulling up outside the boutique. “Maxwell Lord what’s new? Maxwell, someone still loves you!” You sang, before pressing a kiss into his jaw and then pulling back with the biggest, cheesiest grin.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Max returned the smile but he couldn’t help but think about your words. Of course you were just quoting the song, but you had deliberately directed the lyrics towards him. He sighed, not having time to over think. But what if you loved him back? It sounded too good to be true. “C’mon, we’re here.”

The boutique was beautiful inside. It was small, but filled with racks on racks of clothing. In every corner there were golden framed mirrors and an array of different flowers. The old lady, who you assumed to be the owner, was waiting half asleep by the cashier. When Max opened the front door, a little bell jingled, alerting her and waking her up.

“Oh, Mr Lord! How lovely it is to see you!” the old lady exclaimed, pottering over to Maxwell and shaking his hand. She must have only been about four foot, her perfect grey hair in tight curls and her glasses perched on the curve of her petite nose.

“Good morning Belinda,” Maxwell greeted with a charming smile. It was the same smile you recognised from when he was on television. “I’m sorry for dropping by so early. This is my friend,” Maxwell said, pushing you forward gently and introducing you by name. “She’s visiting just for 4th of July weekend and her luggage got lost at the airport so we’ll be needing a few things for her to wear.”

You waved shyly. “Oh darling, what a beautiful young girl you are!” Belinda exclaimed, pinching your cheeks excitedly. She then turned to Max, leaning into him. “You sure she’s just a friend? She’s wonderful. Definitely a keeper,” Belinda laughed and you giggled alongside her as Max stayed silent and only blushed. “Let me take your measurements and I’ll see what I can do.” Belinda told you, already grabbing some tape and sculpting your body to a suitable position. “Where do you come from, dear?”

“Themyscira.” You smiled.

“Them-a-what?” Belinda asked. “Oh pardon me, I’ve never heard of such a place.”

“Uh- small town!” Maxwell lied before you could reply. “Not really important.”

“I see,” Belinda said, holding up different materials against your body. “How long have you known Mr. Lord?”

You looked over at Max and your smile grew wider. “Honestly, it feels like forever.” you told Belinda, finding yourself lost in Maxwell’s chocolate brown eyes. He was completely mesmerizing. It was true. You might’ve only known Max for two days but you already knew so much about him. He’d been haunting your dreams and thoughts for weeks before you’d even visited the world of man. You saw his past. You knew about his struggles. He told you things that he’d never told anyone else before.

“Lucky for you I have Ralph Lauren’s new summer collection! They just shipped to us yesterday. I know that the colours will compliment your skin tone perfectly. They’re just out back, let me go grab them.” Belinda announced before padding away.

“Thank you.” Maxwell called after her.

“Who’s Ralph Lauren?” You asked, walking over to Max who was sitting on a sofa reading the business section of a broadsheet newspaper. You slipped down next to him and shuffled close.

“He’s a designer.” Max informed you, flicking to the next page of the paper.

“What are you reading?” you asked curiously, snuggling into Maxwell and leaning your head on his shoulder so you could take a look.

“Boring economic stuff,” Maxwell sighed. “Not sure why considering my business is broke now anyway. But this stuff is good to know.”

“What is the Cold War?” you frowned, reading the headline.

“Uh, there’s a war going on right now between us and the Soviet Union.” Maxwell sighed, narrowing his eyes as he focused on a piece of information presented in one of the columns.

“Us?”

“The US, United States of America.” Max confirmed with a scowl before turning the page again.

“A war… that’s impossible. Ares is dead.” you mumbled to yourself, feeling horrified. You hadn’t even noticed. You’d spent two whole days in the world of man and you would have never suspected that there was a war going on.

You pondered his words before Belinda came out holding a pile of clothes. “These should fit you perfectly,” Belinda exclaimed, shoving them into a paper bag for you.

“Will you be paying with your company card today?” Belinda asked, turning to Maxwell.

Maxwell winced, knowing that his company had absolutely no money. “Uh- no. Personal please,” Max requested, taking out his wallet. This would be coming out of his own savings which probably wasn’t very smart but, you were worth it. “While I pay, would you mind getting changed in the dressing room?” Maxwell asked of you. “And then we can go to the Smithsonian.”

You nodded, taking the paper bag filled with clothing and navigating yourself to the store’s dressing room.

“Ooh, the Smithsonian museum huh?” Belinda asked as she registered each item of clothing into the till.

“Yeah, she’s never been before,” Maxwell hummed, his anxiety rising now that it was just him and Belinda alone. Of course the little lady wasn’t going to do anything to him, but it was like you were his safety. He was beginning to rely on you more than he’d quite like to admit. “Belinda, can I ask you something?”

“Whatever is it, my dear?”

Maxwell sighed, wondering how to phrase his question. Just like Julianna, Belinda was acting like she had no idea what he’d done. “Where were you on the fourth of July?”

“At the shop, working of course.” Belinda replied.

“Ah, so you didn’t catch what was on the television?” Maxwell quizzed further.

“No, my dear.”

So she missed the broadcast completely. And Maxwell supposed there was a chance that Raquel, Julianna and Theodore missed the broadcast, although that did seem ever so unlikely. Even if they had missed it, one of Julianna’s gossip-y friends would have seen it and notified Julianna of Maxwell’s mischief. Something wasn’t adding up. He had to confront Diana about it.

Just as Maxwell finished paying, you stepped out of the dressing room wearing a white blouse tucked into a brown suede skirt. Of course you were still wearing your gladiator sandals, but they practically completed the look.

“You look… wow.” Maxwell exclaimed.

“Now it gets warm out there so here!” Belinda exclaimed, propping a pair of sunglasses on your head. “To protect your eyes!”

“You really look amazing.” Maxwell said, completely entranced by you. His gaze hadn’t left your body once.

“Thank you Max,” you hummed in delight. “I like it a lot.”

“Good,” he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. You really were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Belinda awkwardly cleared her throat, breaking the silence. “Right uh- thanks a lot for everything Belinda. But we better be going.”

“No problem dear,” Belinda waved cheerily. “Have a great day my darlings!”

You slid back into the passenger seat of Maxwell’s car and watched as he put his own sunglasses on. You smiled and copied, letting the brown tinted glasses fall to the bridge of your nose. “These are cool.” you beamed.

“Yeah, they look good.” Maxwell complimented as he set off to the Smithsonian.

Luckily for the both of you, Maxwell spotted Diana when he first entered the lobby of the building. Just in case of being noticed (which he usually thrived in attention), he kept his sunglasses on. He couldn’t risk being arrested for his previous actions at the museum. Diana was dressed in a royal blue pant suit, her dark brown hair curled perfectly and bouncing off her shoulders. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds and she hadn’t aged a day since you last saw her on Themyscira.

“Diana!” you called, waving your hands ecstatically. Diana recognised your voice and her head snapped in your direction, her jaw parting in shock when she saw you. She questioned your name out loud, but she knew it was you.

“Oh my goodness!” Diana cried, enveloping you into a hug. Maxwell stood a few feet behind you, rocking backwards and forwards anxiously. “What are you doing here?” She smiled, holding your hands and giving them a squeeze.

“I had my calling!” You revealed.

“I am so happy to hear that,” Diana grinned. “So who brought you the world of man?”

“A man, actually,” you laughed at the irony. “A man you might know. Uhm- Max Lord?”

Diana’s smile fell but her face softened when she saw Maxwell. “Ah yes, I’ve made his acquaintance.” She said, her voice vague and emotionless. Her glance flicked between you both.

“Hi Diana.” Maxwell waved shyly.

“How have you been?” Diana asked Maxwell, taking a few steps towards him.

“It’s been difficult, but I’m managing,” Maxwell admitted, hiding his face. “Listen, I never got the chance to thank you.”

“Don’t think anything of it,” Diana smiled. “Water under the bridge.” she promised before turning back to you. “Did you come to the museum to see me?”

“Yes, we did,” you sighed. “There’s another dreamstone out there and it is my duty from my mother to find it and destroy it. Otherwise, it could be responsible for society’s future collapse. History is known to repeat itself. If someone gets their hand on Dolos’ dreamstone, just like Max did, the same thing could happen.”

“I know all about it,” Diana frowned. “And I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been searching for the stone itself and I’ve found out it’s located in a secret cave, in Athens, Greece. If you want the stone, you’ll have to travel there.”

“Is it far?” you asked, not liking the sounds of the proposition.

“Unfortunately, yes. We’d have to get a flight.” Maxwell notified you.

“I’m going to Athens too,” Diana informed you. “I can take you to the cave.”

“You’d do that?” you smiled graciously. “What are you going to Athens for?”

“The sword of Athena,” she exhaled. “There’s a terrible war going on and if I want to save the world from Ares again, I’m going to need that sword. Do you still have the lasso of Hestia?”

“I do.” you confirmed.

“Good, hold onto it. The lasso contains the power of the truth, and by destroying Dolos’ stone, you will be destroying the God of Lies. You can only destroy the stone with the truth. But Max knows all about that…” Diana trailed off, peeking back at Maxwell.

“Thank you Diana,” you smiled courteously and Diana nodded. “Will you be taking a flight with us?”

“I have to stay late at the Smithsonian tonight, so I’ll catch up with you in Athens tomorrow. I’ll find you, don’t worry.”

“Would you like us to get your plane tickets?” Maxwell asked, thinking it was the least he could do for Diana.

“That’s okay. I’ve recently learned I have my own way of flying.” She smirked and you smiled back knowingly. Maxwell just furrowed his eyebrows in bewilderment. Everything about this interaction made him confused and uncomfortable.

“Before we leave for the airport,” Maxwell spoke up, clearing his throat. “I have something to ask you, Diana.” “Yes?”

“No one has mentioned the broadcast to me.” Maxwell started but then stopped, feeling as though his words explained enough.

“I know.” Diana replied with a small nod.

“You know?” Maxwell quizzed.

“When I renounced my wish, Steve disappeared. I lost him again. But this morning, on my way to work, I ran into the man who possessed Steve’s body and we spoke for a short while. It’s like he never even knew me. Like we had never even met. He didn’t remember me. He didn’t know me. It was like… none of it ever happened.”

“What does that mean? Everyone who renounced their wish has forgotten?”

“Almost. When you renounced your wish, the world reverted back to the way it was before Romulus possessed you.” Diana explained and Maxwell couldn’t believe it.

“That doesn’t make sense. So I get away with all of this without consequence? That’s not fair.”

“I think your consequence lies in your fate with Alistair.” Diana frowned sadly and Maxwell’s heart sank into the depths of his chest.

“No,” You shook your head profusely, interrupting their conversation. “Nothing bad is going to happen between Alistair and Max. I’m here to make sure that they stay together,” you turned to Maxwell and held his hand. “Julianna won’t split you apart. I mean it. I won’t let it happen.”

Maxwell let go off your hands and they dropped by your sides. “I’m going to wait by the car. I need some air.” Maxwell choked as anxious tears threatened to spill from his eyes. You nodded understandingly and watched as he sauntered out of the Smithsonian.

“I’m sorry to hear about Steve,” you whispered after a few moments of silence. You turned back to Diana, the princess of Themyscira. “I can’t imagine how it must feel to lose the love of your life. If I lost Max-”

Diana’s eyes widened and she stuck her hand out. “What?”

“W-what?” you repeated, realising what you had just said and immediately trying to figure out a way to retract it.

“You just implied that Max Lord is the love of your-”

“Don’t say it.” You begged.

“-Life.” Diana finished and you gasped. Hearing the words come from her only validated your feelings even more.

It was true. She was right. You were in love with Maxwell Lord.

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 12- Whatever It Takes

Summary: This is it, you’re finally going to help save the world and if all goes to plan, bring Bucky back in the process.

Warning: bit o angst

Masterlist

It’s been a solid month since Tony and Rocket have been crafting tirelessly on the construction of the giant time portal machine type deal, or whatever he’s calling it nowadays. And to your great surprise, as well as everyone else’s, the first test run with Clint was an undeniable success.

Compared to the first one with Scott, things have come a long way.

Clint was able to wander around in that alternate universe for a couple minutes without returning with so much as a single scratch. Thus boosting the teams confidence and excitement for the inevitable time heist that’s in the works. So as of now, everyone’s currently brainstorming as to how this will go about for the most successful mission possible.

“Okay, so the how works.” Begins Steve as everyone sits around the large meeting room, glass screens projecting info about the stones displayed in the background, “Now, we gotta figure out the when and where. Almost everyone in this room has had an encounter with at least one of the six Infinity Stones...”

Tony cuts in with his spout of knowledge, “Or substitute the word “encounter” for “damn near been killed” by one of the six Infinity Stones.” Damn straight, your ass got launched into a Wakandian tree last you saw those goddamn stones.

“Well I haven’t..” Interjects Scott with a puzzled look, confusion clear in his voice, “..but I don’t even know what the hell you’re all talking about.” Oh right, he missed out on all the fun while he was fucking around in the quantum realm.

Sitting on the table you shrug, “Be glad you’ve never seen them, those fucking space rocks will kick your ass if used less then kindly, but it doesn’t matter now. From my understanding we only have enough Pym Particles for one round-trip each.” You explain as they all listen intently, “And clearly these fucking stones have been in a lot of different places throughout history.”

Tony nods, “Our history. So, not a lot of convenient spots to just drop in, yeah?”

“Which means we have to pick out targets.” Adds Clint as Tony points in his direction, “Correct.”

Steve soon gains everyone’s attention once again, “So, let’s start with the Aether. Thor, what do you know?” Asks the blonde, all eyes turn towards the back corner of the room to find Thor slouched in an armchair, beer can in hand while the other one keeps partially hidden in his pajama pants.

A dark pair of sunglasses conceals whether he’s currently awake or not. “Is he asleep?” Wonders Natasha as Rodney humorously adds, “No, no. I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

A few soft chuckles are heard as you listen intently to the god of thunder, “He’s alive, and most definitely sleeping off that last beer.” You muse as they all give a collective curious brow while you simply shrug, “I can hear his heartbeat, and it’s low enough to tell me he’s not dead.....Well, at least not yet.” You mutter, eyeing up the sleeping giant as an idea sparks into your head.

A second later you pick up a discarded empty beer can sitting right next to you on the table before throwing it at the snoozing god, the thin metal smacks against his forehead with that familiar pop of the can sound, falling to the ground with a crackly ting as Thor jolts awake. And back to the land of the living.

“Nordic Santa you’re up.” His head snaps in your direction as he gives a semi-awkward half grin.

“Ah right, right, thank you angry one.” Points Thor with a genuine smile now as he quickly gets up before walking over to the screen depicting the red swirly like stone substance. Although soon he delves into the finding of the red mass, what it did to his former flame, that he took her to Asgard seeking help for her sickness, how he showed Jane to his mother, and then he immediately got sad and lost all motivation and train of thought on anything related to that stone.

Ah yes, personal trauma. It’ll do that to you.

Later that day when everyone was feasting on some Chinese takeout, Rocket began an in-depth explanation into where the Power Stone was found; by some guy named Quill who stole it from a planet called Morag. After some time later, Nebula revealed that the Soul Stone was retrieved from Vormir, the place where Thanos murdered her sister Gamora.

It’s been an interesting day to day the least.

Now here you are, slouched comfortably in a lounge chair you stole from the other room, flipping around a pocketknife as Natasha and Tony lay on the nearby table with Bruce sprawled out on the floor in all his Banner-Hulkness. Books scattered everywhere as the two Avengers keep comfortable on some decorative couch pillows as you listen to them brainstorm about the stones whereabouts.

Flipping the knife skillfully between your fingers an idea suddenly pops into your head, “Hey what about that time stone guy you were talking about earlier.”

Banner hums, “Doctor Strange.”

“Yeah, what kind of doctor was he?” Wonders Natasha as you mentally question the same proposition when Tony gives his quick witted answer. “Ear-nose-throat meets rabbit-from-hat.”

“Nice place in the Village, though.” Adds Bruce, Tony agreeing in an instant. “Yeah, on Sullivan Street?”

“Mmm....Bleecker Street.” Mutters Banner as Natasha interrupts, face shifting to realization. “Wait, he lived in New York?”

“No, he lived in Toronto.” Sasses Tony as Banner reveals the truth. “Uh, yeah, on Bleecker and Sullivan.”

Tony coming back with more playful sarcasm, “Have you been listening to anything?”

Suddenly it feels like a lights been switched on in your brain, “Guys.” You quickly implore as they keep silent to listen, “If you pick the right year, wouldn’t there be three stones in New York?” Their faces all collectively shift to astonished realization when Bruce quickly sits up to look at you. “Shut the front door.”

“Well at least someone is paying attention.” Quips Tony as Natasha smacks him with a book.

——

“All right.” Begins Steve as the whole team gathers in the meeting room, “We have a plan. Six stones, three teams, one shot.”

You nod, smirking with excitement, “Let’s get these fuckers and maybe end up saving the world while we’re at it.” He sends you a proud grin and within the next half an hour are the eleven of you suited up and standing in a large circle atop the glass of the giant time portal.

“Five years ago, we lost. All of us....we lost friends. We lost family. We lost a part of ourselves. Today, we have a chance to take it all back. You know your teams. You know your missions. Get the stones. Get them back. One round-trip each. No mistakes....no do-overs.”

“Most of us are going somewhere we know. That doesn’t mean we should know what to expect. Be careful. Look out for each other. This is the fight of our lives...and we’re gonna win.” Affirms Steve with a mutual nod, “Whatever it takes.” He gives one last look around the circle of familiar faces before nodding, “Good luck.”

Nudging the muscular blonde, he shares a small smile with you as you quickly return it, “You practice that last night?” Steve chuckles at your amusing comment while Rocket and Scott gush over his admittedly incredible motivational speech skills.

“Just thought the team could use the confidence boost.” Admits Steve as Bruce flicks the motherboards switches to get the time portal up and running. The machine whirs to life while everyone begins putting on their helmets.

Your slightly apprehensive gaze trails to your left where Natasha is standing, she gives a playful smirk as you force a true smile, “See you in a minute.” Chides the red head as you break out into a smirk.

“будь осторожен там Romanoff.” You add, shifting into your natural dialect that she’s all to familiar with, your actual words translating to “be careful out there” as you give her one last flash of a grin.

A hot second later, your body shrinks to the size of an atom as you feel like you’re entire body is free falling out of an airplane in some strange rainbow colored portal that shifts to shimmering diamonds and then finally a blue coral type texture as you find your teams designed route down some swirling tube of blues and bright white lights until at last you land in...

“Holy shit look at this place.” You mutter in absolute awe at the large golden pillars of Asgard, there was no fucking way you were missing out on traveling to this realm. And anyways, Steve kinda made it your task to keep the potbellied god of thunder in check as yourself and Rocket attempt to locate the Reality Stone with Lebowski as your generous tour guide.

Thor smiles fondly, proudly beaming at you with a rare form of happiness as he points towards the large cavernous halls of the royal palace, “Oh this? Yeah, it’s neat isn’t it, I grew up here....played games down this very hallway actually. Me and some friends used to spar one another as children down here with wooden sticks that looked like swor...”

“Thor.” Interrupts Rocket with an annoyed huff, “Remember why we’re actually here.”

You nod in agreement, quickly remembering the current mission, “He’s right. No time to dwell on fond memories, we need to find that stone before anyone sees us. And going by the logic of literally every time traveling movie I’ve ever seen, which admittedly isn’t a lot, but it’s enough that I know no one can see us. Especially you Thor, that would be a big problem for this timeline, so lead the way.”

“Yes, right on that, good point Y/N....okay um...” He looks around for a moment before pointing in the direction of choice, which is down a long spacious hallway, “This way, no ones gonna see us if we go by the dungeons.” Explains Thor as he quickly leads the way down the obnoxiously long hallway that thankfully is decently vacant.

After about five minutes of trekking around the castles interior, Thor guides you and Rocket down a long stairwell of dark grey stone until you reach the bottom floor. There are large basins of fire lighting the way down the lengthy hallway pass, he jogs past a couple golden tinged cells holding a few odd looking prisoners on your way out.

No doubt these fuckers look like they deserve it.

You pay them no mind as Thor hustles silently across the flooring to a door on the far end, though as you’re shuffling past another cell, your eyes land on the green and black clad slender body of a dark haired man laying atop his bed. Face focused towards the white ceiling as he tosses a cylindrical piece of metal in a repeated rhythm only done by that of an incredibly bored individual.

That must be his brother Loki, you draw into conclusion while racing out of sight of the trickster god while Rocket makes haste by your side. Kind of handsome, you think as an unknowing smile finds itself onto your face. God Y/N you truly are a desperate woman. No, just no.

Eventually, Thor leads your little team of three upstairs to some large balcony type area with a grand view of Asgard, the three of you keeping hidden behind one of the multitude of intricately decorated pillars as he eyes up a woman halfway out of a giant door while she accepts some clothing from a maid.

His bearded face lights up in joy as he points a finger towards the brunette woman, “Oh, there’s Jane.” Whispers Thor as she closes the door, the Asgardian maiden leaving and walking elsewhere down another yawning chamber.

“All right.” Starts Rocket as he stands on some ancient rock covered in unknown hieroglyphics before jumping down to face the two of you once the coast is clear, “Here’s the deal tubby. You’re gonna charm her, Y/N’s gonna keep watch, and I’m gonna poke her with this thing..” He shows some strange metal device with three silver prongs sticking out of it, “...and extract the Reality Stone, and get gone lickety-split.”

The optimism off of this creature never fails to astound you.

“Yeah, what he said.” You add with a shrug in Rocket’s direction as Thor sniffs before raising up a finger. “I’ll be right back, okay? The wine cellar is just down here...” Interjects Thor as he slowly begins walking away, clearly ready to abandon his part in the mission, “My father used to have this huge barrel of Aakonian ale. I’ll see if the scullery has a couple of to-go cups.”

“Hey. Hey!” You whisper yell, causing him to stop for the moment, “Aren’t you drunk enough already? Fuck that fancy wine we got better things to do.” You urgently vouch just as some doors loudly open nearby, immediately the three of you hide behind the stone of hieroglyphics and watch as a long haired woman leads the way, a multitude of servants in her wake as she says something about giving books to Loki from the library.

“Who’s the fancy broad?” Wonders Rocket as you raise an intrigued brow at Thor, his eyes never once leave the woman’s as he takes a steady breath, “That’s my mother.” Reveals the disheartened god, a sudden sadness lacing his very words that does not go unnoticed by you, “She dies today.”

Your breath catches in your throat at this sudden tragic news of great loss, you remember when you lost your own mother by the filthy hands of Hydra and how they helped you quickly forget about her. You didn’t have anytime to grieve or even question her sudden disappearance for that matter, “Oh, shit...that’s today.”

You share a nervous look with Rocket as Thor begins taking some deep almost panicked breaths, his emotions all rising together like a swelling storm as his face shifts to an afflicted pain, “I can’t do this. I can’t do this....” Rambles Thor with a shake of his blonde mane, eyes displaying panic, “..I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have come. It’s a bad idea!” Whisper yells Thor as he anxiously shifts from one foot to the other.

“Come here.” Beacons Rocket from his perch on the rock.

“No, no, no...” Deviates Thor as he waves his hands nervously in the air like he’s trying to flick some mud off of them, “I think I’m having a panic attack.” Worries the flushed faced god.

“Come here. Right here.” Says Rocket as he points to the rock, an increase in irritation shifting the tone of his voice while Thor breaths heavily, clearly not on board with whatever Rocket’s going to tell him.

“No, no, no, guys I can’t...I can’t do this, I’m sorry but I’m not ready, I can’t...” Thwack, Thor yelps in surprise at your intentionally weak assault on his large bicep, “Y/N what was that for?” He half-offendedly demands, brows furrowed in confusion at the flash of anger racing across your sour glare.

“You think you’re the only one who lost people?” You snap as he lowers his head like a beaten dog, “What the fuck do you think we’re doing here? I lost the only person I ever loved, Rocket lost his whole family, gone, just like that.” You affirm with a snap of your fingers.

His face grows conflicted as you suddenly lose your heated aurora, face falling into a frown as you place a comforting hand upon his shoulder, “Thor, I know it hurts that you lost your mom...believe me I get it, but she’s gone. And there are plenty of people who are only kinda gone, and you can help them.”

Thor nods apprehensively as you share a small smile with him, “So if it’s not too much to ask, can you get your shit together for the next however long this is going to take so we can save the world?”

Rocket chuckles before gaining the both of yours attentions. “Agreed. Now all you gotta do is make schmoopy talk to Pretty Pants and when she’s not looking, suck out the Infinity Stone and help us get our family back. Aight?”

Thor nods once more, face twisting into a saddened pain a he looks down to the floor, “Okay.” Mumbles the god of thunder weakly, face reddening as his eyes get glossy. You let him take a breath as he avoids your gaze at all costs, eyes beginning to water while he tries to play it off.

Giving his shoulder a friendly squeeze, your brows furrow in puzzlement, “Are you crying?”

He shakes his head, some tears slipping despite his verbal protest, “No.” Mutters Thor weakly as his tearful gaze finally picks up to meet you, “Yes..” Squeaks out the teary eyed god while his eyes flicker from the far wall to your face once more, “...Y/N, I feel like I’m losing it. I don’t, I don’t know what I’m doing...I just feel so...shit I don’t know anymore.” Admits the fearful Asgardian as he avoids your softening yet slightly annoyed gaze.

oh, Thor you sad motherfucker. I’ve been there.

Rolling your eyes you gently shake his shoulder for emphasis, “Listen to me you big lion, get your shit together! You can do this. You’re the god of thunder for fucks sake, you can do this Thor.” His face turns into a surprisingly more confident expression as he huffs with a self-assured nod. “I can do this.”

“Yeah...I can do this.” Repeats the Asgardian with a sniffle.

Smirking, you give his arm a friendly smack, “Good. Now let’s do this and get the fuck out of here.” You add before swiftly turning on your heel as you and Rocket lead the way to the door, reaching it, the talking raccoon tugs on your leg before you get a chance to open it. “What is it now?”

“Y/N, we lost him.”

“What?!” Realizing Thor has indeed slipped away and out of sight, you clench your fists in irritation, “Goddammit.” You seethe before looking down at Rocket, “Whatever, we’ll find marshmallow fluff later, let’s just get this stupid rock.”

——

Racing down the palaces golden hallways, your boots thud against the stony ground as Rocket runs on all fours right behind you, “I almost hope they catch you!” You shout in between the yelling of the royal guards as they hastily pursue the two of you down the hallway.

“We got the stone didn’t we!” Snaps Rocket as you pick up your pace.

“We gotta make it back first you dumbfuck!”

He grumbles something unintelligible before you follow the beer tinged scent of Thor into another room, he’s speaking with his mother when they quickly turn around, “Oh, uh, hello...uh, queen something.” You mutter before Rocket practically smacks into the back of your legs. “I got the thing. Come on. We gotta move.”

Thor nods, speaking some last final heartfelt goodbyes to his mother before abruptly stopping the countdown to three just so he can summon his hammer. After a couple lengthy seconds, Mjolnir falls right into his strong grasp causing Thor to laugh and smile in excitement. “I’m still worthy! I’m still worthy.”

Rocket shares a look with you, “Oh, boy.” Mumbles the raccoon as you simply roll your eyes at the bearded Asgardian prince. A moment later the three of you are sucked into the time portal once again before landing on the glass of the time portal machine.

“Did we get them all?” You hear Steve ask in wonder as you hold your stomach from the jostling ride back.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” You mutter as Rodney smiles in excitement at everyone around him and the stones in their proximity. “Are you telling me this actually worked?”

Taking a deep breath to steady your turning stomach, all eyes turn to Clint as he suddenly falls to his knees, face a mask of saddened grief that sparks panic in your heart. “Clint, where’s Nat?” Questions Bruce as your face falls.

Not her, not Natasha too.

Standing solemnly on the Facility’s large dock with the teams main Avengers in various places close by, you lean against one of the thin steel beams, a deep frown on your lips while your fingers anxiously play with Bucky’s dog tags around your neck.

“Do we know if she had family?” Questions Tony to no on in particular.

Steve swallows thickly, a couple free tear stains falling down the side of his cheeks, “Yeah. Us.” Mutters the blonde gloomily as you bite your bottom lip to keep from crying again.

“What?” Wonders Thor almost in disbelief as Tony gives him a quizzical look, “Yeah, no, you guys are acting like she’s dead. Why are we acting like she’s dead? We have the stones, right? As long as we have the stones Cap, we can bring her back. Isn’t that right?” Adds Thor, glancing between all of you before facing Tony again, “So, stop this shit. We’re the Avengers. Get it together...”

“Can’t get her back.” Interrupts Clint dismally, eyes still set on the open water beyond the compound.

Thor’s brows furrow in befuddlement, “Wh-what...”

“It can’t be undone. It can’t.” Insists Clint, voice slightly wavering in despair; Thor then starts chuckling at the absurdity of the whole shitty situation before rambling about space magic and that there must be another way. Clint on the other hand quickly gets heated about this and promptly snaps at Thor about some red floaty guy he met who revealed once the Soul Stone is taken, the one sacrificed can never come back. Ever.

Soon things calmed down again, though still a rather gloomy atmosphere still lingers like a persistent hazy fog even after they all left, leaving no one but yourself and Steve on the dock. He keeps a steady gaze on the rippling water as he lets his sadness take its course, this is indeed a heavy blow to bear.

Letting out a shaky breath, you move from the leaning against the beam to instead find a spot next to him on the wooden bench. Dog tags still clutched in your fist as you steal a glance at the tearful man. You’ve admittedly never seen him so upset, well, you both may have shared a good cry when Bucky was whipped from existence five years ago. That was the first time you ever truly bonded with anyone from the team, the first time Steve and Natasha showed you their vulnerability.

And for that, you’ve formed a stronger bond with them that you’d never thought possible. They welcomed you into the compound like an old friend, always treated you with respect and gave you room when you needed it. And even when you didn’t want to be around anyone, they still forced you into playing cards with them anyways, among other dumb games. Which annoyingly so, is what your sad little self needed back then.

But without Natasha, without her beaming heart and fierce attitude to keep fighting through the unknown and murky waters, you’re not even sure if this would all still be conceivable. Or if you’d even still be here with all of them for that matter, you might have gone on an angry warpath just as Clint did when everyone he ever loved was snatched from him forever.

So why, after all this time and pain, is she the one who had to go? It’s not fare. And your heart feels broken all over again; sniffling, you swallow thickly before turning your head a little in Steve’s direction, “I didn’t know her for as long as you guys did.....but she was, really the best of us..” You laugh dismally.

Voice shaky as you hold Bucky’s tags close to your chest, “..If not better. She was the first Avenger I ever met you know, the only piece of my past that didn’t try to murder me on sight, actually. I liked her. She was who I needed to get me through my grief, among other things huh...and uh...I will miss her.....a lot.”

Nothing is heard except for the low rustling of the nearby trees as a soft wind blows into your faces, Steve clasps his hands together, turning to you, “Funnily enough, it took me some time to completely trust her, but now....there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.” Mutters Steve with the flash of a genuine smile as he thinks fondly on Natasha, who you wish more then anything could still be here to celebrate the hard work of finding those goddamn stones.

It’s not fucking fare.

Swallowing thickly, you nod in agreement as more hot tears trail down your somber face, “The world will owe her their lives and never even know it.....but I will, we all will. Her memory will live on if I can help it, we owe her that much.”

Steve slowly nods, thumbs fiddling together anxiously as he mutters a raspy, “Yeah.”

You rest a comforting hand atop his broad shoulder as he shares a mutually dismal look with you, “We’ve already lost so much already and she fought for this like no once else did, we will avenge her Steve. I don’t doubt she knows it.”

Tagged: @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes @mischiefmanaged71 @jckie94 @iamasimpingh0e @mjaudrey @thescarlettvvitch

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x you #marvel imagine #marvel x y/n #marvel x you #marvel x reader #the winter soldier #fanfic #fanfiction #the avengers imagine

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trickster-tabby · 3 years

Text

Monochrome Melancholy - chapter 3

Patton finds something he thought was lost forever, but it reveals something about Logan... And it's not good.

Warnings: LOTS OF LOGAN ANGST, refusal to eat, refusal to sleep, touch starvation, uhhh its heavily implied that Patton kills people in one line(he is indeed an assassin), hallucinations, panic attack, misgendering, deadnaming

Pairings: Logicality, intrulogical, queerplatonic analogical

MONO LOGAN ASKBLOG: @ask-monochrome-logan

Patton was willing to try anything to help his husband.

He was desperately searching through his room for anything that would help Logan come around though at this point he wasn't expecting anything to work, considering he'd even tried Logan's favorite childhood blankie and it didn't work.

"Goddamn it." He growled, throwing a jacket back into the closet.

Clunk!

Patton's eyes flicked down to the sound. A small box, almost like a large, square glasses case, had fallen out when Patton threw the jacket.

Recognition sparked in Patton's mind. He didn't remember this box per se, but it looked familiar. He knelt down and picked it up, slowly opening it.

He wasn't prepared for what was inside.

"Holy shit..." He breathed out. He'd figured this was something he had lost while taking out a target.

It was a golden disc, six inches in diameter, with eight round gems embedded in it. A larger, pink one was in the center, with the other seven circling it, colored in order of the rainbow. Each gem was cracked, showing the mental state of the corresponding side.

The light blue gem, Patton's, was usually the most cracked considering everything he'd been through in his life. But now...

Logan's gem.

Logan's gem was cracked to the point that it would have fallen off completely in pieces, if not for the magical properties of the device.

And it was turning grey.

Fuck.

---

Logan sighed in frustration as he tore a page from his notebook, crumpled it, and tossed it behind him. This wasn't working. He went through scenarios with every idea he came up with, all of which ended with Thomas shutting him down.

Damn it.

Logan flopped back in his chair. Everything was silent.

...except it wasn't.

"Lauren."

Logan froze as he heard... Someone say his deadname.

"Pay attention to me, you silly girl."

...he knew that voice.

Logan began to shake. "D... Dad...?"

He slowly turned around. There, standing behind him, was...

Thomas.

Thomas? But he heard...

"Lauren, I thought you were better than this. Listen to me." Thomas said... But it wasn't Thomas's voice.

It was... Logan's dad's voice.

Logan's breath grew frantic. He knew he was probably hallucinating, but that didn't make it any less terrifying.

He took off his glasses. Thomas remained clear, while everything else was blurred. He was hallucinating.

...that wasn't good, either.

Logan stood up abruptly, rushing towards the bathroom.

"Where do you think you're going, Lauren?"

Ignoring "Thomas", he slammed the bathroom door behind him, breathing too heavily. His already blurry vision grew blurrier.

Logan stumbled to the sink, grabbing his schizophrenia meds and downing two pills. He slammed the bottle down, panting as he slowly looked up at himself in the mirror.

He scowled.

The next thing Logan knew, he was on the floor with a bloody fist, surrounded by glass shards.

He'd... Punched the mirror?

God, this was getting worse and worse.

---

"Logan, dinner time, sweetheart!" Remus called through the door. They'd gotten into a routine of Logan opening his door long enough to get his dinner and say hi.

This time, however... Everyone was terrified for Logan.

They heard something fall, followed by "Shit! Uh, just a second!"

Another few clatter, and Logan opened the door. "Hi, sorry... Had an episode. Again."

As Logan reached out to take his plate, Remus froze.

Not only was Logan's fist bandaged and bloody...

But his skin was grey.

@sablesides @nerosdayinhell @januceit

#sanders sides #logan sanders #logan angst #patton sanders #remus sanders #monochrome melancholy

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void-tiger · 3 years

Text

Tagged by @curiosity-killed (thanks for the tag!!)

roses or daisies:

DAISIES!!! They’re so simple and cheery have just as many colors and look delicate but are actually really tenacious? Also, how charming is Day’s Eye (and asters in general having the habit of facing eachother if they’re not turned towards the light--I think I have a picture of dahlias doing this from last autumn--and like. Star Flower. Okay, I’ll shut up now xD )

classical or lofi:

...okay so I admit I had to look this one up. But easily some of my favorite tracks are those Hidden Ones that bands plop onto their albums to fill up leftover space, but are often basically just scrapped recording or practice sessions? The bloopers and their creative process, basically. Cut to me googling and youtubing it and finding hiphop lofi and...yeah! Definitely Lofi.

(Classical vs OST and Modern Classical (that’s composed to be a lot more cinematic) just...really puts me on edge. It’s too mathematical...to put it nicely.)

So...yeah. Slow beats and something that sounds experimental or like a jamming session? It’s soothing and kinda ideal for background noise.

sunrises or sunsets:

Sunset. One, never ever gonna be a “morning person”. Forget it. Two, sunsets often have more dramatic colors and still make the landscape glow and you get to see stars peeping out vs fading. Also, y’know. I’m actually awake to appreciate it vs groggy and legit physically ill.

honey or lemon:

Honey as a condiment. Lemon for sweets flavor. (Baklava’s probably the exception...then again I haven’t had that many honey-flavored sweets, I guess? But Lemon-Poppyseed?? Definitely one of my favorites,)

coffee or tea:

Coffee. I adore tea service aesthetics and will someday probably collect them (especially the really quirky or earthen or blownglass ones vs the froufrou european ones)...buuuut, I just haven’t really had A Good Cuppa Tea much at all. There was this spiced tea I’ve had in Jordan that was AMAZING and I do like greentea (with...A LOT of sugar or honey...) but. I’ve just never really had tea. My family’s coffee drinkers, so the smell of coffee is nostalgic. (And yes, I’m basic enough that I prefer flavored, sweetened creamers; and my coffee brewed or spiced with, like, cinnamon and nutmeg, too. Or as a mocha.)

...I also have a Bad Habit of abandoning my Herbal “Teas” with the bags either left steeping too long (I have gotten better at using a timer) or while waiting for them to cool. And while I’d just really love it for Uncle Iroh to make me tea (provided he doesn’t get on my case about wanting sugar and maybe cream), the Times and Temperatures are just so dang fussy!! I...don’t think I have the patience for that.

enemies to lovers or friends to lovers:

Friends to Lovers. I just...don’t Get It with the sexual tension~ that seems to be the driving force behind enemies to lovers...I guess?? (That, and unless it’s literally on a battlefield, HARD PASS. I’ve had people try to blow off my complaints about getting repeatedly tormented as “he liiiiiikes you~” bullshit to ever be comfortable with it as anything but Legit Two Sides Of A Battle/Political Conflict. Sorry.)

But, Friends to Lovers? That Bond. And then the ...Oh. The domesticity and trust and safety. Also it is RIPE for Idiots to Lovers mutual pining xD

(bonus points if both parties decide ahead of time, “hey. even if dating doesn’t work out I still value your friendship in my life, so no pressure about ‘ruining things,’“ And then, of course, it does work out and there was nothing to be anxious about, after all.)

rainy days or sunny days:

...cop out but, overcast days with Soft Sunlight and Cloudbreaks?? I do like a clear skies sunny day, but, my eyes are also so sensitive to light that it can be painful. Rainy days can be soothing...but the rain has to be A Certain Way. Too heavy and with too much wind behind it and it can get me anxious. (My childhood home had Every Rain is Severe Weather...with no place to shelter. It’s gonna take awhile before i can appreciate it like i’d want.)

jupiter or mars:

Jupiter. GIANT. DEADLY. MARBLE (that wants to eeeaaat meeeee...) Also Pluto, and the jovian moons.

aphrodite or athena:

Athena!! She’s an ace icon, aight?? And also strikes me as...very, very Tired with everyone’s bullshit. Also...all the greek gods are kinda assholes. So. Yeah. She ain’t perfect and her characterization’s at the mercy of whatever myth in question, but generally she strikes me as practical and sensible and having Mercy...sometimes. As much as that group is capable of it, anyway...

rome or greece:

...probably Ancient Rome as a “ancient culture to explore but a YIKES (but. so is ancient greece.)” But visiting IRL in the present? Greece.

sun or moon:

Moon. I appreciate what the sun does and I do like feeling sunlight and all that...but, I’m also a night person. And I can look at the moon without risk of blindness and admire its corona and that rainbow corona you can see just a bit further out if you know where and how to look. BUT. The moon easily loses out to a starfield, especially if the light pollution and humidity are both low enough that ya get to actually see the milky way’s galaxy arm. (The irony that the sun IS our local star does not elude me.)

1920s or 1990s:

...neither?? 90s only slightly win out ‘cause I’m a ‘93 Kid and the 90s and 00s had some incredible toys and cartoons. And, idk. I still like overall pants and shorts. Always have. While a flapper dress would be “oooh pretty! starlight beading! Now OFF. Back to regular clothes for ‘Sporing or Comfy Lounging.”

blizzard or thunderstorm:

Blizzard. Also. Have you considered...thundersnow??

(Admittedly? I’ve also never been through a snowstorm that threatened by health&safety. The same cannot be said about thunderstorms when nearly every one could or would spawn tornados and severe straightline winds that could knock down trees and powerlines and sometimes even damage homes. While living in a home with NO safe place to shelter. Not even an interior closet or bathroom. NOT. FUN.)

midnight memories or made in the am:

...what?? [googles] ...OH...they’re...albums. UH. Neither?? (I don’t listen to them...?)

sage green or vanilla white:

Sage green. It’s kinda a nostalgic color somehow? Also. Just not a fan of monochrome...at all. I see it? I instantly want it to be a backdrop. Negative space. For COLOR. (jewel tones for whites/light neutrals and browns; NEONS for blacks and dark greys. Preference for Jewel Tones over Neons...wait. What was the question again??? OH YEAH..uh... I do like vanilla icecream? With rainbow sprinkles. Or...paired with hot fruit pie or cobbler. Or cookies. Um...yeah I should prolly shutup now. xD )

folklore or lover:

...I don’t...understand??? But...I like Folkslore as in...folklore??? Fairytales, Legends, Myths... (also, so frikkin ace I’m just. not ever gonna pick “lover”)

croissant or macaroon:

...why would you do this to me. I make a beeline for croissants because...Soft Flaky Buttery Bread. And they are So Good as a savory sandwich sorta thing. Easily better than english muffins or crumpets, tho biscuits have a fighting chance. But LIKE. Soft breads. My weakness as a kid.

...but a good macaroon?? It is so light and crisp and TINY and like?? how does it taste like coffee??? and berries????? (Too bad they are So EXPENSIVE. While even cheap croissants are almost always Good.)

ballgowns or pantsuits:

I like the aesthetics of a ballgown. But never the pricetag, I wouldn’t wanna live in that thing for more than an hour, tops (and. so much damn work!!) and I’m stuck looking at them Defying (boob) Physics and just...dying a little inside. With my rare It Pretty Want Pretty wilting with it. But...it’s rare that pantsuits really...look like anything. (They also look uncomfortable and yet another Wardrobe Disaster and Do I HAVE To??? if I think about...actually wearing them. But, Legs Free No Tripping...I guess??)

hades or zeus:

I only wanna EVER meet Zeus if I get to castrate the bastard and lock ‘im up where he’ll NEVER get back out. Hades, tho...I’m WATCHING you, Bub. (Why yes, I agree with Demeter on this one.)

platonic love or sensual love:

Platonic. Cuddling and Kissing are technically Sensual but, y’know what? They ain’t exclusive to sexual or romantic loves (and I just. really do not want kissing at all. MAYBE a quick kiss on the forehead or fingertips but LIKE. That’s it. And it’s cute af for...literally ANY Love Type.)

light academia or cottagecore:

Honestly? A mix between the two. Cottagecore with my charming little home with its overgrown flowerbed of wildflowers (and asters! All the asters) and produce grown in large pots or hanging baskets...and inside the walls are covered with overflowing shelves of books and knicknacks and other Neat Things. Oh, and naturally a tea service (might not actually have tea in it...) and tons of pillows and blankets, and lamps and lanterns Everywhere for warm and soft (and colorful) light to read by while music plays softly in the background. And the home smells like something I just made for Supper or Snacks, or like a food-scented candle.

Aaaaaand tagging @mckinlily @headspacedad @aairachnid @synergetic-prose and whoever else wants to play! No obligation to play if tagged.

#tagged meme #tiger’s musings #long post

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occasionally-writing · 4 years

Text

Their Special Anniversary

A/N: Wow, this is my first PeteKao fanfic, but I had this thought early in the morning about Pete doing something special for their fourth anniversary. In fact, I was listening to One Love by Nat Sakdatorn while I was writing this. This fic does contain mentions of sex but it’s nothing too graphic! If anyone wants to know what rings I used for them, you can find the image here! Anyways, I hope that you guys like my first fanfic for them <3

Summary: Pete plans something nice for his and Kao’s fourth anniversary of being together. Despite his nerves, Pete thinks it is a success and is even given something so sweet by Kao, who also had something planned for their special day.

Word Count: 2830

“You really don’t mind leaving for a bit, Dad?” Pete muttered, opening his fridge so he could pour himself a glass of juice while his Father sat down at the table, holding a newspaper. Letting out a hum as he went over Pete’s plan in his head, Pete’s Dad nodded and opened his paper, knowing he had a few hours before he had to leave. It wasn’t every day that Pete was this nervous about something and he knew that it meant a lot for him since it was technically his and Kao’s fourth anniversary. Taking a sip of the lemonade he poured, Pete swallowed the lump in his throat as he examined the clock, unconsciously counting down the hours until Kao would arrive and he would bring him up to his surprise. Rolling his eyes playfully as he noticed Pete doing this, his Father sighed and set the paper down, leveling his son with a playful smirk. “I know what you’re going to say...yes I’m nervous and I think I deserve to be. I want this to be perfect, Dad.”

“Of course, I understand Son. But just remember, this is Kao we’re talking about. He’ll be happy with whatever you do for him on your anniversary. It doesn’t matter if it’s fancy or if it’s just a simple date at a street restaurant, he’d just be happy being with you. So don’t worry too much, yeah? You’ll get wrinkles before you even reach my age,” his Father teased him, pointing to the spot where a furrow was in his eyebrows. Blowing out a breath as he was laughed out from the glare he sent towards his Dad, Pete finished off the lemonade and placed the glass in the sink, moving to head back up to his room to do a final check of everything. He knew that his Father was right but he still wanted everything to be perfect. He was going to show Kao that he loved him dearly! “I’m going to head out soon, Pete. Remember what I said, okay?”

Nodding softly as he shot his Dad a small yet appreciative smile, Pete practically skipped two steps as he darted up the stairs and towards his room, flushing slightly as he heard his Dad’s laughter in the background, fading as he got further away from it. Stopping at his bedroom door, Pete took in a deep breath and squeezed the doorknob, stepping into his room as he examined everything he set up. Rainbow string lights were hanging around the whole room. Some were lining the windows while others were hanging from the ceiling. He had no idea how he managed to make them stick there, but he silently applauded himself for his effort on them. Circling around once he reached the middle of his room, Pete took in the candles he set out before he glanced at his floor where silver confetti lined a path towards his bed where more of the shiny paper was strewed about on his bed. It was obviously going to be a pain to clean up, but Pete found he didn’t care, it was for Kao and any mess could wait until the next day...or a few days prior, to be cleaned up. Kao was worth it.

“Pete, I’m leaving!” Hearing his Dad yell from downstairs, Pete scurried from his room and practically slipped down the stairs in his hurry, meeting his Father towards the front door to their home. Sliding on his shoes, Pete’s Father turned to look at his Son once more before he chuckled and reached out, patting Pete’s shoulder reassuringly. Smiling slightly past the nerves that were still in his mind, Pete nodded and opened the door for him, walking out with his Father until he reached the last step before he was off the porch. Grinning widely at Pete, his Dad waved him off before he walked towards his car. Stopping before he entered the vehicle, Pete watched as his Father turned around, offering him one more smile for the night. “Have fun, Pete. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Dad!” Pete whined, stomping his foot slightly as a blush tried to stain his cheeks. Laughing at his reaction, Pete’s Dad finally got into his car and Pete watched as he drove away. He had no idea where he was going to be but he knew if he needed anything, he would call Pete. Letting out a sigh as he shook his head, Pete entered his home again and patted his pockets, searching for his phone so he could text Kao. Not having it in his pants, Pete grumbled before he walked into the kitchen, letting out a breath when he noticed it on the counter. He must’ve placed it there when he was getting something to drink. Reaching for it, Pete typed in his passcode and opened his text messages, smiling softly when he noticed Kao’s name. Sending out a text to his boyfriend saying his Father was gone and they had the house to themselves, Pete went to place his phone back in his jeans before it pinged. “That was fast...oh, he’s that close already? Damn it, Kao! I haven't lit the candles yet!”

Scrambling towards the stairs, Pete shot up them and towards his room, slowing down once he reached it so he wouldn’t make the confetti fly everywhere when he entered his room. Stepping in carefully, Pete grabbed the lighter he had placed on his bedside table and began to light the candles just as his phone pinged and he heard Kao calling him from downstairs. Cursing as his hand shook, Pete quickly finished lighting the rest of the candles before he fast walked down the stairs, meeting Kao at the glass sliding doors. Opening them, Pete took one look at his boyfriend before he felt his nerves finally fade. Kao wasn’t dressed as fancy as he thought he would and it just made Pete realize that this was them and a lot of the times, they didn’t do fancy things. Tugging Kao in by his wrist and laughing slightly as he got a protest from him, Pete wrapped his arms around Kao’s neck and hugged him tight, burying his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder as he took in the scent of the cologne Kao used. Feeling arms wrap around his waist, Pete sighed as Kao tightened his hold around him, not wanting to let him go as well.

“Happy Anniversary Kao…” Pete muttered into his boyfriend’s neck, chuckling when he felt the shiver that Kao’s body gave off as his breath fanned out across his neck. Pulling away slightly so they could stare at each other, Kao kept his hands on Pete’s waist while Pete cupped Kao’s face, playing with his ears slightly. Leaning down, Kao pressed their lips together in a soft kiss until Pete huffed and deepened it, swiping his tongue across Kao’s bottom lip, smirking into the kiss when he heard a slight groan come from him as he was allowed entrance, their tongues battling for dominance. Pulling away when he couldn’t breathe, Kao kept their foreheads pressed together as they both panted and stared lovingly at each other. “I have a surprise for you, come with me.”

“Ai’Pete! You know you don’t have to do anything...just us being together is always enough,” Kao whined slightly, pouting when his voice was sorta high pitched and Pete chuckled at the sound of it. Not saying a word, Pete let out his hand and waited for Kao to take it, arching his brow when Kao pouted but took it nonetheless, intertwining their fingers until their warm palms were pressed together. Rubbing his thumb against Kao’s for a moment, Pete smiled at him before he pulled him towards the stairs, heading up to his room. Allowing himself to be pulled, Kao kept his eyes on Pete’s back as his mind went to the present he prepared for Pete as well. It was currently hiding in the pocket of his sweatpants, the box kinda heavy now that he was aware of it again. Noticing that they were in front of Pete’s room, Kao blinked as Pete just stared at it before he took a deep breath and turned to face him, his face showing how anxious yet excited he was to show his surprise. “Pete…?”

Stepping closer to Kao once more, Pete gave him his signature smile before he pressed a soft kiss to his lips, not letting it get any deeper as he pulled away and tightened his hold on Kao’s hand. Letting out a small breath, Pete opened the door to his bedroom and ushered Kao inside. Yelping as he was pushed inside the room, Kao went to protest the harsh treatment before his breath was pulled out of him as he noticed the lights all around the room, bathing the atmosphere in different shades of colors. Circling around as he took in the lights hanging from the ceiling to the candles that were flickering beautifully on the desk and dresser Pete kept in his room, Kao felt the words he was going to say fail as he turned back around to face Pete. Eyeing his boyfriend up and down, Kao swallowed the lump in his throat and reached out for Pete, who grinned and slowly walked up to him, placing his hands where they always found themselves on Kao’s cheeks. Putting his hands on Pete’s hips, Kao placed their foreheads together and nudged their noses, pressing a kiss to Pete’s nose before he pulled back and reached inside his pants pocket. Blinking as he noticed Kao doing this, Pete felt his question drop as he observed the smooth grey box Kao was holding out to him.

“I uh...I got you this...Happy Anniversary, Pete…” Kao mumbled, obviously nervous as he waited for Pete to take the small velvet box out of the palm of his hand. Lifting a shaky hand, Pete took the box and stared at it, letting his eyes raise from the gift to Kao’s anxious gaze before he lowered back to the present in his hand. Moving to open said box, Pete let out a small gasp when he examined the rings that were in the box. It was a pair of simple black rings but it didn’t matter to Pete. Taking one of the rings out of the box carefully, Pete stared at it before he noticed there was an engraving on the top and inside the ring. Rubbing his thumb across it, Pete noticed one ring had Kao’s name on it and the other one had Pete’s. Taking the other ring from the box that had Pete’s name on it, Kao shakily placed it on his ring finger before he played with it, turning it so Pete’s name could plainly be seen by anyone if they were looking at their hands. “I’m sorry if the rings aren’t that...fancy, but I just thought that you’d like something simple. I even got them engraved...I can wear the ring that has your name on it and you can wear the one that has mine...would you look inside the ring too, Pete?”

“Kao…” Pete mumbled, not knowing what to say for the first time in his life before he nodded and turned the ring around so he could look on the inside. Pausing everything when he noticed the engraving that was on the inside, Pete felt his eyes beginning to burn as he looked back up at Kao and drew him into a heavy kiss. Inside the ring, there was an engraving that said, ‘My Everything.’ Pulling Pete closer as they kissed, Kao pulled away as Pete moved his lips down to his neck, leaving butterfly kisses and small nibbles as he went further down. Releasing the tight hold he had on Kao, Pete moved to look at their hands again, taking in the couple rings they both had on before he peered back up at Kao, letting the smile that Kao loved to see rise on his face. “Your surprise is so much better than mine. And you say you’re not romantic.”

Snorting softly, Kao shook his head and directed his attention to the room around them. What Pete said wasn’t true, Kao can tell just by looking at how everything was set up that Pete had spent a lot of time preparing this. Rubbing his thumbs across Pete’s knuckles, Kao gave him a shy smile and let go of Pete’s hands so he could spin and examine his boyfriend’s surprise. Letting out a small snort at the look on Kao’s face, Pete stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Kao’s waist, pressing his face into the back of his boyfriend’s neck. Lacing his hands together with Pete’s that were resting on his stomach, Kao leaned back against him and sighed when Pete pressed soft kisses up his neck before he playfully nipped at his ear. Turning back around, Kao pulled Pete close and pressed their lips together, quickly deepening it as he heard Pete’s groan slip out as their hips pressed together firmly. Moving his hands up Pete’s waist, Kao played with the hem of his shirt before he pulled away from his lips and offered his boyfriend a questioning glance. Smirking as the thought of what they were about to do entered his mind, Pete nodded and raised his arms, allowing Kao to gently pull his shirt up and off before Pete’s hands were also trying to tug Kao’s shirt off his body as well. Once they were both bare from the waist up, Pete backed Kao towards the bed as they both fell on it, the confetti that Pete had strewn about flying everywhere as they landed on the mattress. Sitting on top of Kao’s hips, Pete stared down at him while Kao stared up at Pete before both of them broke down in laughter when the confetti settled and stuck to their bodies, making them look like they took a bath in the shiny silver paper. Leaning down, Pete pressed their lips together and sighed in the kiss when he felt Kao’s hands trail up his sides as they settled on his face, urging him to come closer.

“I love you, Pete…” Kao whispered once he pulled away to breathe, his bare chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Smiling brightly at the confession, Pete pressed kisses all around Kao’s face and grinned when his actions got Kao to cackle and complain, a smile plastered on his face when he pulled away to look at him. Cupping Kao’s face, Pete sighed happily and rubbed softly under Kao’s eyes, feeling himself fall for his boyfriend more when Kao leaned in his touch, eyeing him with so much love glimmering in his brown irises. Brushing his fingers through Pete’s hair, Kao smiled shyly up at his boyfriend before he let his legs fall open, making room for Pete to do what he knew they both wanted at this moment. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Kao,” Pete whispered, pressing a kiss to Kao’s lips again before he trailed them down his neck to his chest. Throwing his head back as he buried his fingers in Pete’s hair a bit tighter, Kao let out small noises of pleasure as Pete pressed kisses to his chest, along with sneaking a bit of tongue into the action. Reaching Kao’s pants, Pete let his eyes wander up his boyfriend’s body before they reached his heated gaze. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Kao nodded and lifted his hips, helping Pete with taking off his joggers as his boxers came off with them. Nibbling softly at his navel, Pete smiled up at Kao before he too took off his pants, throwing them across the room. “You’re my everything, Kao.”

Fighting the blush that was threatening to flood his cheeks as Pete said this while he was close to his length, Kao offered a smile as he tugged playfully at Pete’s hair in return. Chuckling at the shy nature of his boyfriend, Pete pressed one last kiss to his hip before he got to work, loving the noises that Kao was letting out. When the time came and Pete was deep inside him, Kao continued to mutter his love for his boyfriend as their lips met and Pete took it slow and gentle, unlike their previous times of making love. And even if they had confetti in the most uncomfortable of places by the next morning, Kao found he couldn’t find it in himself to care as Pete hugged him close, pressing their foreheads together as they stared lovingly into each other’s eyes. Nuzzling their noses together, Kao grinned before he pressed their lips together into a loving kiss, both their eyes fluttering closed as the thought of this being the best anniversary they had yet crossed Kao’s mind.

#dark blue kiss #petekao #pete x kao #my writing #please enjoy the fic

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andieperrie18 · 5 years

Text

if i die young (x reader)

WARNING: AVENGERS ENDGAME SPOILERS!! DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED! HAHAHA ENJOY.

Thanos's threat has ended. The population of the universe has been restored to its rightful place. There was finally peace and the Avengers had done it. But, all Good things comes at great costs.

Y/n Stark

The real hero. She fought Thanos with all she had along side her father. All her life, Tony had always vowed to do whatever it takes to keep her safe. He vowed to her, to Pepper and to himself. Even if it cost him his life. When the battle came to its peak, he remembered every moment of how it all happened.

The Thanos that came from the past had already had his hands at the new gauntlet that he had synthesized from the original. He casted his eyes over to a pair of orbs masked with worry. He gazed at her daughter as she did as well. Panting, he turned towards the new sorcerer supreme. The said magician stared back at him with small hope lingering hope in his eyes. He lifted his hand with a singular digit on it. Tony knew that he had to do something. For the sake of the people that he loved. For Pepper, Morgan and Y/n. For the last time, he gathered all the strength he had left as he lift himself from dirt. This was a sacrifice he was willing to take.

It was suppose to be him.

He tugged the gauntlet, he fought with all he had. He only had a few minutes to take the stones of the gauntlet. He had already of this before. Tony knew that if something would happened, he would need a contingency. If something were to occur along the way, he could easily removed the stones from the gauntlet.

Then Y/n threw himself on Thanos's hand and tugged it aswell. He thought he was helping him but what she did next was not what he had expected. She stared at him for a moment as her arm piled on his, her lips mouthed a phrased that had carve its way in his heart forever.

"I love you 3000"

She blasted him away with her own blasters. And she sneakily swiped all the stones as she was thrown off.

"I told you, I am inevitable"

Thanos smirked, as he raised his arm after Y/n rolled off. He prepped his middle finger and thumb together and snapped them. Tony stared in fear as he waited for another defeat. But none came, the giant purple foe waited but none came and he turned his attention to the synthetic gauntlet. This slapped a look of shock on his face and he lifted his eyes to the man clad in red and gold as the same look of confusion mirrored his.

"And I told you before,..."

The two turned towards Y/n figure as she had straddled in her knees. The gleam of six hues crawled from her palm to the back of her hand, conjoining all of its powers to her purple suit. Their grand unification process earned a grunt from the beholder. Tony stared at his daughter, as she stared back with a conveying message.

'this time, I'll protect you.'

She quickly turned to Thanos and gave a tired smirked.

"You talk too much."

Snap

Everything was enveloped with a bright light.....

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

If I die young bury me in satin

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Sink me in the river at dawn

Send me away with the words of a love song

Uh oh uh oh

"I knew you'd do something crazy. And mom has already tried to stop you from pulling off crazy stunt from the past."

Tony stared at Y/n's hologram. He sad with Pepper, Morgan, Rhodey, May, Peter (who is her boyfriend) and Happy. His daughter had actually left messages for everyone. Each of them got one one holo-messenger with an exception for Morgan who got two with the other being a sort of music box which confused them.

"You've been protecting me ever since we came back from Afghanistan. And I never felt in my life."

Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother

She'll know I'm safe with you when

She stands under my colours, oh and

Life ain't always what you think it oughta be, no

Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby

The sharp knife of a short life,

Well, I've had just enough time

They walked out of the cottage as they were greeted by friends. Tony held the a bouquet and in the middle was an arc reactor, Y/n's first reactor. He remembered how happy she was when she made it. He held Morgan's hand and his wife held the other as they made their way to the small wooden dock.

Peter followed swiftly behind them. Eyes glossy but a failing stoic expression. He watched the sad family stare at the drifting bouquet.

If I die young bury me in satin.

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Sink me in the river at dawn

Send me away with the words of a love song

The sharp knife of a short life,

Well I've had just enough time

Peter spun to a certain corner, from a shore line of the lake stood Michelle Jones and Ned Leeds. The lone female who barely showed emotions was now sobbing a hell lot of tears with her breath hitching every few minutes. Then there was Ned, he would have laugh at his chubby best friend's crying but the weight of the loss was too great. They loved her, Y/n may have been the daughter of an seemingly arrogant Philanthropist but she manage stay level headed at all times. She knew all three of them like the back of her hand. She knew how to deal with Michelle's snobbiness, she knows how to roll with Ned's Star Wars fandom.

Then there was him, he loved the way she knew how to make him weak. She is supportive and helpful with his hero activities. He promised to treasure every kiss and hugs he had with her.

And I'll be wearing white when I come into your kingdom

I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger

I've never known the lovin' of a man

But it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand

There's a boy here in town says he'll love me forever

Who would have thought forever could be severed by

The sharp knife of a short life,

Well I've had just enough time

The three sat by a small bench as they watched the bouquet. Morgan start fidgeting the music box. A beeping caught the attention of a few people including her parents. A hologram started to appear from the box. A sweet familiar voice echoed around the breezy air.

So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls

What I never did is done

A penny for my thoughts, oh no I'll sell them for a dollar

They're worth so much more after I'm a goner

And maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'

Funny when you're dead how people start listenin

"Hey Lil Em, sorry sis had to leave but don't worry I'm in a better place. You said you wanted me to make you music box with my voice cause you loved hearing me sing to you every time you go to sleep. We'll here it is."

Morgan smiled at the information as she looked at her sister's hologram that looked as if she was sitting at the edge of dock. The little girl inched down to sit beside the hologram of her sister who held a guitar as she singed.

Morgan felt complete. Her eyes slowly drift closed after finding comfort in the voice of her big sister's voice. Tony inched closer preparing to catch her but the next thing shocked her and everyone around him.

If I die young bury me in satin

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Sink me in the river at dawn

Send me away with the words of a love song

Uh oh (uh oh)

The ballad of a dove

Go with peace and love

Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket

Save 'em for a time when your really gonna need 'em oh

The sharp knife of a short life,

Well I've had just enough time

So put on your best boys, and I'll wear my pearls

Y/n knew that Morgan was too young to remember her touch. The next thing she knew was her finding a key to put a solifying effect on her hologram. She manage to solidify the atoms of a holographic program.

Morgan slept on a familiar warmth. No tears left unshed that moment as every person on that place stared at the scene before them. Morgan slept on Y/n as the big girl wrapped her arm around her small figure.

Tony felt his wife's embrace as he turned to meet her. He found a teary eyed smile on Pepper's face, smiling back and returning her gesture as they stared at their daughters. Peter stared at them and slowly smiled. Even if it is a short moment, everything was perfect.

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violet-author · 4 years

Text

A Nice Night For Spinel(18+ Only)

Written as a challenge to myself, to see if I could put out a good longer work in a short timeframe. As always 18+ Only.

Your first love and your first kiss, stolen by one who left when they knew you bereft of experience. It isn't your fault you hadn't trusted anyone to hold you so directly, you were a pair of delicate flowers, in soul and in body, green as the leaves and ready for a lovely embrace. Sadly for you, the locals seemed a cavalcade of infinitely ignorant scraps you were embarrassed to be near, and even more so to realize one whom you assumed cut of a better cloth turned out to be naught but a ratty rag. It's not your fault the folks 'round you seemed so terrible, that you were beaten down to see all as grey, and grey, and grey. it's not your fault the color faded from your life as you went on. It's not your fault that your cozy home felt so much more welcoming than the bars, clubs and theatres that lay scattered around the city to beckon you into their snare of a promise of a good time and perhaps even... love. You felt nothing for the dull and callous masses you passed by every day. but... you heart remained kind, soft, the look in your eyes though sad most times always had that little glimmer of hope for a better tomorrow, you hoped... and hoped... but going on into adulthood you... you didn't see a change. and tried retreating back into yourself one night. during a midnight walk away from the others you heard footsteps along the same path you took, and at the corner... under that one light that worked, the amber shine, that golden honey colored dim brightness bathed her face in it's auspicious embrace. She was different. She was new. She was... colorful. You felt like you could breathe again, and into a daze you went at her gorgeous face... until she spoke. "er, you ok there pal? You're seemin in a tizzy there over somethin." You snap back to the wonderful reality of her, embarrassed about spacing out. And give a shy smile at her, you warn yourself not to mess this up.., you say you're fine, and ask if she is as well. "Well...", she rubs the back of her neck... Seeming sad, she turned her eyes to the ground, seemed she was hesitant about opening up to a complete stranger, but the full moon does odd things to people. So she spoke. "I've been havin ta deal with someone... leavin me behind. I don't know what I did... they said we were gonna go for ice cream when they came back... it's been weeks now...", she sniffles, a tear welling up in her eye, one quickly wiped away. "But I'll be fine. I think..." The lines of faded mascara down her cheeks said otherwise, and the frizzed out ends of her pigtails collaborated with her makeup against her claim. But she had to let it all out somehow. She needed to. she'd explode otherwise. You felt you needed to help her. You tell you story, similar to hers, but yours came with a reason attached, your own love left you from knowing you've never made love, and shattered the love you had for them. You told them how long ago it was, only a couple months, and how it still hurt to this day, how it tore you up inside. how it- She interrupted with a hand on you arm, a gentle hand, a knowing hand, you felt her grip through the thick coat you wore, and looking into her eyes the makeup was smudging even further, the hurt expression on her face, clenched teeth and quivering lips under streaks of tears. Slowly she moved in closer... you let her. You let her in closer. Closer to you. Closer to your heart. And she embraced you, a comforting hug, a loving hug, she nuzzled her face into the crook of your neck, and her hair brushed by your cheeks, the light scent of sweet cherries from her pink hair... your heart beat swift from it. and you held her right back, feeling your own waterfall coming long down your sorrowfully contorted face, and under that golden light you wept in each other's arms, a pair of abandoned lovers finding solace in the witching hour beneath the blue moon. and now, neither of you are alone. You let each other go, and she took your hand. "Might seem weird but... wanna head to my place?" You don't hesitate to respond, a sure yes echoing briefly in her ears, and a sincere grin creeps onto her face, and run you did with her, running, running, you heart leaping and bounding with this new thrill, taking by the hand by a pink haired darling dame, her pigtails fluttering in the breeze of her speed, you struggled to keep up, and by the end of it she had you panting and catching your breath, but you weren't tired, you had more energy now than you ever thought you did. After a few short breaths... she held your chin in the curl of a finger, her thumb gently gliding over your lips as she looked down at yourself, hunched over as you tried to still your wild soul and drumming, thumping heart. She brought you up with a finger as she did your chin and pulled you in sweetly, right before she opened the door... it happened. She took it back from the jaws of your memory, this was a real kiss, not the half hearted peck that that other person gave you. this was your first real kiss. gratitude, affection, understanding, desire, true desire... you felt a rainbow of emotions from this embrace of the lips and her other hand fumbled about to open the door with a heart shaped key, and once it was open, she broke the kiss and let you into her home. it was decorated cutely, with figurines and colors befitting pretty pink princess, the heart shaped pillows on the couches, the bouquets of flowers, the roses of which were mysteriously cut up... the small portraits of fluffy animals chaotically adorning random parts of each wall, and it was clean as well. strikingly so. "By the look on your face I guess I either made ya space out again, or you really like how my place looks! Come on, my bedroom's upstairs!" Being responsible you close the door behind you, and give the lock a toggle to keep yourself and her safe and sound, and the clonk of your shoes on the rosewood floors made a pleasing dull thudding as you followed your new flame to paradise, one you hope will last... "My rooms a little messy, hope you don't mind!" Getting up there, her 'mess' is only a few shirts and pants strewn about, as well as her underwear, which she give a teasing little giggle about while she picks a pair of panties up and waves it at you with a smirk. "Bet you'd like to see how this looks on me huh toots?" You stammer for an answer, she shushes you with raised hand. "Relax hun, We already had ourselves a little feelings jam out there in the cold, and seein as it's so warm in here... we're gonna be lookin at a lot more of each other, sooooo...." She takes a bit of a wide stance and tears her jacket open, turning her head to the side with a pleased look, and her eyes on you, the pop of the buttons adding an appropriate sound effect to your shock, she only had a thin halter top under that garment, and it could plainly be seen that she had no bra. "You like what you see?" You don't even bother talking, and just nod with a thumbs up, trying to hide the fact that your face is burning up from the blush. You try to hide that fact, but she catches on pretty quickly. "Well it's your turn babe! get that thing offa ya!" You chuckle nervously, even though you just met her, you feel like you've been friends for ages, and you unzip your coat, you weren't wearing anything under it. you hadn't planned on even talking to anyone tonight. She looks surprised at first, her cheeks flushing softly from looking at your bare chest, and wordlessly takes off her own top, leaving the both of you topless. "well uh.... it's only fair I strip too I guess since uh...", she gulps awkwardly, " since you're the first one to do it! uh... you uh... oh geez this is... this is weird..." You briefly motion to get your coat back on... you feel like things will all come crashing down... But she holds you up. "Hey! I didn't say I don't like it I'm just not used to bein like this with someone. it's kinda been a long time!" You soften up once more, and let go of your coat. "So... wanna go further?" You carefully nod, and she follows your motions. Firstly, you help her take her boots off after you kick off your sneakers, the laces undone first, and ran backwards through the hooks... looking up at her as you do this, you sort of feel like you're proposing to her, and once you're done she holds you by the hands and pulls you up on top of her, and once there she slips her stick mitts down to your hips and locks them against hers, pushing up and grinding against you confident in the pleasure she can provide, and by the look on your face her pride isn't misplaced, she has you squeaking from just this. She rolled the both of you over and wriggled herself out of those skinny jeans of hers... and you got to see how those panties looked on her after all, the way they cutely cradled her nethers, they seemed tighter than you would have thought, the way they revealed the slight curves of her sensitive body and dug into the surprising plumpness of her slender frame. You were captivated by her every motion... and she wasted no time trying to get you into the same state of undress as she, so she fiddled with your belt and pulled it off, tossing it to the side and letting herself slide off the bed with a grip of your loose pants, and with one tug she had you in just a pair of underwear, you could practically see the hearts in her eyes... and just as her fingers reached the waistband of her panties, you stared, leaning in... you were hypnotized... The rest of the night was a blur of pleasure, Spinel's rusty skills gaining a much needed shine as she played with you all through the night, and just as the run did, she left you breathless... but the fatigue was welcome, the aching from activity a sweet pain to possess, and warm it was as the both of you lay tangled in each other's arms in a sweaty heap, once breath was caught madly did she pull you back into her arms for a barrage of lip locking, and once done, "Oh it's official honey... You an me... We're totally gettin married!"

#Selfshipping #self shipping #gender neutral reader #Spinel #steven universe #citrus

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byleranna · 4 years

Text

a byler fan fiction :)

colors?

mike exhaled out of his nose sharply as he watched the digital clock that was mounted on his bedside table. the ficking was the only thing breaking the silence in the teen's room. the time read "11:56". four minutes until his 16th birthday.

eleven, his girlfriend of a year and a half, was watching him, the look of curiosity prevalent on her face. she wondered what he was so nervous for. sure, seeing colors for the first time would've been overwhelming, but nothing to have a cow over.

mike flinched as he felt a hand on his thigh. he turned his head to the side to see his girlfriend give him a sympathetic smile. he gave her a halfhearted smile as he tried relax.

eleven knew on his 16th birthday mike would see color for the first time. eleven knew he'd see color as soon as soon as he saw his soul mate. eleven knew that she was his soul mate. she just knew.

"close your eyes, it's one-one-five-nine." she murmured as she grabbed his hands to put up to his eyes to create a barrier. she still hadn't been able to say the time correctly yet.

"you mean 11:59." he laughed as he went a long with his girlfriend's silly antics.

the clock turned 12 and eleven removed his hands from his face to reveal her beaming face. colorless beaming face.

mike's face dropped into a frown, soon his face being imitated by his girlfriend. he fluttered his eyes open and closed before rubbing them to see if the color would appear. it didn't.

"is everything okay, mikey?" eleven questioned as she looked at the frazzled boy. mike expected to see the green eyes that nancy described for him, but he only saw grey in his girlfriends eyes.

for a second, she thought he was just admiring her, but then she realized he was staring for a few seconds too long.

"mike." eleven said sternly as she snapped her fingers in front of his face, getting tired of him fooling around. mike shook his head as he snapped back into reality.

"huh?" he questioned, making his girlfriend scoff and roll her eyes at him. he wasn't sure what to say. how was he supposed to tell his girlfriend she wasn't his soulmate? how was he supposed to tell his girlfriend who was positive she was his soulmate.

“you-" he choked out, "aren't my soulmate." what mike didn't expect was for eleven to throw her head back and laugh. and laugh. and laugh. mike looked at her with a confused expression.

"el, i- i'm not kidding." he stuttered, his voice cracking softly under the pressure. he lost his voice trying to find better words to explain what was going on.

her cackling decreased to an unsure chuckle. "what?" she finally calmed down enough to ask for reassurance.

mike stayed silent. he was lost in his own train of thought. for some reason, he somewhat knew that his soulmate would never be eleven.

he always saw her in the same light he saw either dustin or lucas, but will was a different story. he assumed that he just dated her because he didn't want to feel lonely, or he didn't want to hurt her in response.

eleven took his silence as a cue to leave. she huffed before mumbling under her breath, "so you didn't really love me after all." mike watched her storm out of his room and slam the door shut.

"shit." he murmured as he rubbed his face tiredly. he laid himself back down on his bed and he stared up at the ceiling. what was wrong with him? why wasn't he in love with his girlfriend. well,

i guess now ex-girlfriend.

he understood that dating before 16 could be setting yourself up for disaster. you never know if you'll be dating the right person, but mike and eleven took that risk.

he tossed and turned underneath his covers as he gave up for the night. he sighed, completely defeated.

mike woke up to the sun beaming through his window. he groaned as he sat up in his bed and rubbed the sleep out of his tired eyes. he rose from his bed and stretched his lanky arms over his head.

he remembered that he had plans with the party for his birthday at the arcade in an hour or so in celebration of his birthday. he assumed that eleven wouldn't be going after the events of the night before. he didn't blame her, though.

he walked to his closet to fish out a button up and a pair of jean shorts. he ran his fingers over the fabric of the shirt.

'will liked this shirt.' mike thought about the praise his best friend gave him. it was nothing special, really, but it has stuck to mike until this day.

he walked to his bathroom with his clothes, and threw on the shirt and buttoned it meticulously. then, he slipped out of his sleep pants, and put on his shorts. mike's gaze went up to the mirror in front of him. he combed his hair to the side with his fingers, but he knew it would he messed up in five minutes time.

he turned on a heel and walked out of his bathroom with a pep in his step. he skipped down the stairs after grabbing some quarters from his piggy bank.

"bye, mom." he called out to his mother as he walked out the front door to the grass, where his red bike was laying. he never bothered to make it stand up usually.

he mounted the bike and started his way towards the designated meeting area for the party. as he pedaled, he felt the wind whip his face and through his hair, he almost lost his breath.

the bike ride from the wheeler household to the arcade wasn't terrible. it was a five minute ride, at most.

a sigh escaped his lips as he found himself in front of the monochrome sign of the arcade. he walked his bike to the bike rack and locked it up. you never know who might snatch it up.

he walked in and the slight smell of b.o. hit his nostrils, making them flare up. his focus was directed from the stench when he felt a slap on his shoulder.

"wheeler!" mike heard lucas sinclair say from behind until lucas pulled him into a hardy side hug. "happy birthday, man."

mike gave a big smile to one of his best friends before returning the side hug. "thank you." mike nodded his head at him as he let go to turn around to his other best friend's, dustin henderson, smile that could light up a whole room.

"how does it feel being 16?" dustin asked as he also pulled his friend into a side hug, welcoming him.

“same old, same old." mike laughed softly as he ruffled his friends hair. he looked around, searching for someone.

"where's will?" mike asked both lucas and dustin who shrugged their shoulders.

"we don't know. it's unusual for him to be late, but sometimes it happens, i guess." lucas answered for the both of them. a small look of disappointment flashed on his face, but he made sure that it went away.

"well, we can wait for him." mike said as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

the trio indulged them self into playful banter until the youngest of the group arrived.

"oh gosh, guys!" mike heard from behind him. "i'm so sorry for being late." mike turned around to see will's green eyes.

wait. green? he saw will's greens eyes. he saw his brown hair, his pale skin, his pink lips. mike stared at the kid in front of him in awe.

will was his soulmate?

mike wasn't sure what to say beside looking around the arcade. he saw the black floor with colorful spots on it. his breathing started to speed up as he admired the scene around him.

"mike?" mike was snapped back to reality by will's soft voice. will looked concerned, worried that he did something wrong to offend his best friend.

"yes? sorry, i was zoning out." mike laughed it off, a pink dusting his cheeks out of embarrassment.

"uh, okay." will chuckled awkwardly, definitely not buying what mike was telling him. he shook his head and then greeted the other boys.

now he finally understood what nancy was talking about when she was saying things about how amazing color is.

since they were soulmates, mike had to wait until will hit 16, which would be in about five months. mike downright refused to tell will now, because of his irrational fear of rejection. will would never reject mike, especially now that they were made for each other. or will wouldn't believe it. there have been very little same sex soulmates, so he was wondering how that would be taken in their small town.

he had to keep quiet until the five months were up about him being able to see the full rainbow.

the sound of laughing and the smell of pizza wafted from will byers' room. tonight was the night of his awaited 16th birthday. he celebrated by inviting the boys over for a sleepover. it was always a tradition he did on his birthday.

mike, dustin, lucas, and will all sat in a circle talking about anything that truly interested them. it could've been from dnd to girls! the spectrum was very wide.

"have you guys found your soulmates yet?" will asked his older friends as he toyed with his hands in his lap. he wasn't sure how he felt about the soulmate situation. he hadn't felt too much of a connection with anyone, but his best friend, mike. but he knew that could never happen. there hasn't been a single same-sex soulmate couple in hawkins.

lucas nodded up and down yes. "max mayfield. she's new to the school. i met her a month after my 16th birthday." he said fondly as he recalled his soulmate. it was like his eyes were practically turning into little hearts as he talked about her.

will nodded as he listened to lucas. then he looked at dustin, expecting an answer.

"yeah!" dustin exclaimed. "suzie! she was the girl i met camp know-it-all." dustin gave a big smile as he spoke about his sweet girlfriend. "i met her later than a few months, honestly, but it was worth the wait!" he finished. his smile was contagious to the whole room. will thought it was absolutely sweet that dustin and lucas were able to gush about someone so easily. that was one of the things that will was looking forward to.

will turned his attention towards mike who was shifting uncomfortably in his spot. "mike?" he prompted.

"uh, no, i haven't met my soulmate yet." he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. will could tell that mike was hiding something, but he wasn't too keen on what, though. the room went silent.

"is that why you and el broke up?" dustin blurted out. he always wanted to ask that question, but now he finally had a fitting time to ask it. he didn't realize how rude that sounded until after mike gave him an awkward glance.

"mhm." mike sighed as he gave the boys a small half-smile. "she wasn't happy with that. i don't blame her though, i'd be upset too." mike chuckled dryly until he perked back up. "well, enough about me," he said awfully too cheerily, "are you excited for your soulmate?" mike asked with a smile that was a little too big.

will took a few seconds to ponder on the question. "sorta?" he saw mike give a disappointed look, but only for a split second until he was back to that giant grin. "i'm excited to have someone who loves me unconditionally." will said honestly, earning nods and sounds of agreements from the boys. "but i'm just scared because of... yeah." he trailed off. he wasn't ready to tell the group his sexual orientation just yet.

"got it." mike murmured softly, his grin decreasing to a smaller size. his smile was contagious for will, so he couldn't help but return the smile.

will looked towards the clock. "ooh, it's 11:58!" will said excitedly as he wiggled in his seat. for will it seemed like the time went by like molasses in winter time.

they continued to talk until it turned midnight. none of the boys noticed until there was a shocked look on will's pale face. color flooded his vision, but he wasn't sure which one of the boys triggered it.

"will?" lucas questioned when he realized he wasn't participating in conversation as well as he was before. "is everything good, buddy?"

will's eyes darted between the boys suspiciously. what the other boys didn't know was that will could see in full color. he took his time taking in the details of all the boys. he noticed how dustin had dirty blond hair, how lucas was wearing a green camo headband, and how mike was wearing a red shirt. will decided that red was his favorite color.

"one of you.. are my soulmate." he choked out, utterly overwhelmed by the explosion of color. lucas and dustin looked through each of the boys, wondering who it could be.

it took them a few seconds to use process of elimination to realize it could've only been mike, who was intently focused on his hands in his lap.

"mike?" will questioned, prompting mike to lift his gaze up to will's eyes. will recognized his favorite color paint the face of his soulmate. "you knew, didn't you?" he questioned tilting his head to the side. both lucas and dustin sat, watching the two of them uncomfortably. they felt as if they were intruding a private conversation that they weren't included in on.

mike nodded his head slowly. "i didn't want to tell you and freak you out and- and- and-" he stuttered. he was slightly ashamed that he wasn't sure what to say or do.

"mike," will interrupted him sternly, "i am not and will not be freaked out by you. i've been in love with you ever since elementary.." will mumbled softly, making mike feel some what better. he succeeded in that, making a smile reappear on his face.

their little moment was ruined by dustin clearing his throat to get their attention, making them blush a soft pink.

it was time for sleep whenever will scooted his blankets on the floor towards mike's. whenever will had friends over for company, he refused to sleep on his bed while his friends slept on the floor, so he joined them on the ground.

mike smiled whenever will snuggled into his side as he yawned softly. it wasn't too long until mike found will sleeping.

"i love you, soulmate." mike stroked will's soft hair to comfort him.

"i love you too, soulmate." mike swore he heard will whisper in his sleep softly.

#byler #byler fanfic #st3 #dailystrangerthings #dustin henderson #mike and will #gay will byers #strangerthings

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therhythminwriting-blog · 5 years

Text

Haha! Okay so last post! I was really hoping to find a homestucker to roleplay with, not sure if I should make a group chat or not, but for now I have completed my bio and would love to talk plot!))

Name: Esppan Cowler

Species: Alternian

Gender: Female

Age: 8.3 sweeps

(Derse or Prospit?); Derse

Fetch Modus: Pick-Pocket; The user must solve a puzzle to get an item from anywhere in the deck, if the user fails to solve the puzzle that item is locked and inaccessible for 30 minutes.

Strife Specibus: Throwingkind

Weapon: Kunai

Game Entry Item: Wooden Target

Sprite: Pre-entry Eyetopus sprite and post-entry Eyetopus-pull-string pal sprite

Exile: (Their name and function pre- and post-exile)

Server Player: (Not sure)

Client Player: (Not Sure)

Title: Sylph of Rage

Active or Passive? Active

Medium: Land of Light and Rain

Denizen: Cetus

Blood color: Lavender

Symbol: Caduceus

Lusus: A mutated octopus not much larger than a yoga ball with 1/3 of its body being just a large eye with a catlike pupil. Its sharp beak looking as though three beaks had been placed together to make a triangle shape below the flesh that protected all octopi’s mouth that could be located underneath the beast. (Eyetopus)

Ancestor: Darion Cowler

Hive: (Appearance and general location) A large poorly constructed dwelling, edged onto a sea cavern so less would have to be done to make housing. The Hive was much more structurally pleasing inside as rooms are divided by stalactites and stalagmites fusing together, it was like bamboo dividers but lazier and the ground was a deep grey stone that did not the tan colored stone that made up the cave, showing she’d put a little initiative into making a habitable place for herself as Eyetopus Lusus. Her room had the essentials a rather large recuperacoon with its warm green glow, some clothes, a few large eyed dolls, a desk and her trusty maroon desktop computer resting comfortably atop the desk.

Horns: Resembles gazelle horns that branch off like a tree

Trolltag: SilentSagittaruis

Quirk: Extends vowels to emphasize words (Ex; oooookaaaaaayyyyyy! Leeeeeaaaaaaaveeeeee-uuuuuuuuhhhhh!), types in her natural stutter (Ex; S-so? H-heh totally. N-no wh-why?) and does not use contractions.

Matesprit:

Kismesis:

Moirail:

Auspistice:

Do they need to wear glasses or contacts? Wears thin tan frame Willkie style glasses.

If yes, are they nearsighted or farsighted? Nearsighted

They should wear their glasses, but do they always? Not when sleeping and they are tucked on collar of her shirt when swimming.

Weight: 115

Height:5’0

Notable features: Wide hips, Large eyes, pointed teeth, fin-like ears and gills (these gills have a richer pigment than the rest of her body; battle scars)

Hair: Extremely long wavy, frizzy locks of pitch colored silk.

Disabilities/Health Concerns: Has a little difficultly breathing due to severely burned gills. Emotion/Mental state is deteriorating

Favorites and Least Favorites;

Color: Favorites are all colors except black and brown. Least Favorite is brown and black.

Music: Favorite is classical and gothic jazz, least favorite is R&B and Pop.

Movie: Has never had the time to watch a movie, maybe someday?

Book: Shamefully, she is not much of a reader.

Food: Tuber paste

Clothing: A sleeveless, spandex black shirt with a lavender Caduceus resting just below the collar of her shirt at the center, with long blinding yellow overalls that were very tight, form fitting with a bathing suit like texture that was unaffected by water. Finally rainbow socks, because deep down she truly loved colors and a lavender choker with a bottle cap at the center to conceal where it had been stitched together.

Prized possession(s): Lucky overalls that are an ugly mustard yellow and likely too small for her, despite her legs being too short for the pant legs. Lavender choker made from an old pair of socks, but using the elastic in the tops shown together with a few frills and a yellow bottle cap.

Alchemized item(s):

Other likes/dislikes: Prefers meaner personalities as it reminds her of her Lusus, is uncomfortable with small talk and people who are overly excited about literally anything.

Biggest goal: Become stable and happy or close to it.

Greatest fear: Being alone for the rest of her life

Darkest secret: Sometimes she hears things, like crying and screaming and footsteps when there’s nothing there

Does anyone know? Not yet.

If yes, how did they find out? N/a

Greatest strength: She is entirely non-judgmental, honest and understanding. She can also throw knives, forks and pretty much anything like a professional assassin, not to uh…brag of anything.

Greatest weakness: She is terribly insecure, indecisive, paranoid and awkward these things tend to show very obviously as she overthinks and overshares. She tends to handle her own problems in very unhealthy manors and genuine feels towards her temporarily stun her.

Greatest accomplishment: uhhh…

Biggest regret:uuuuuuhhhhh…….

Are they more aggressive, assertive, or passive? Passive

Are they emotional or stoic? Stoic most of the time, with moments of emotional explosion.

Which do they trust more, their head or their heart? Their instincts, so I suppose heart.

Are they an introvert or extrovert? Introvert

#homestuck #trollsona #homestuck roleplay

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the-uptake · 6 years

Text

Abdications of Flesh

The Uptake, With Symbiotic Self-Indulgence. Book III, Chapter 1. Chapter 2 MIA; go to next available chapter.

TW: Drug culture, police brutality, dysmorphia

Disconnection became the peristaltic pulse of Tri-City in the wake of the permanent quarantine. The ghosts of the Stalkers’ Quarter reached out and up from the imposing hundred-yard walls which confined it, a glaring neon Wolfram concrete warning to anyone who might wonder what might lay within an entryless barrier. In mere months, the supersaturation of public guilt left citizens complacent to a shared commiseration that it had to be done, that there was no other way; and in the wake of dispassionate transgressions, came a vast and opportunistic multitude of nepenthe. City laws evolved rapidly to meet the needs–and demands–of the masses. Everyone nursed their own personal set of vices. 24-hour liquor stores and bars bloomed up overnight, and over time other more creative maladaptive indulgences became equally commonplace.

Suddenly, more than any other point in the history of their lives, everyone wanted to be anyone but themselves. Industry could adapt. Industry could provide.

‘Choly and Cecil walked down a Level 12 street in the commercial district, the smooth and simplistic concrete facades along the entire strip swathed in advertisements projected upon their every surface. Romantic strands of Valentine’s Day decor still lingered in places. ‘Choly wore a salmon dress shirt under an oversize mint green sweater with black pants and mint green creepers, with large green gauge tunnels and his bangtails loose to either side of his bespectacled face. Cecil seemed to have tried to coordinate this, with a pale pink button-up shirt and dark grey pants both with cuffs rolled, thin black suspenders, and two-tone oxford boots.

“It’s not too dissimilar to our great city’s thriving cannabinoid market.” ‘Choly’s cane gait punctuated his wry lyric. “There’s fewer and fewer plants every day, but I guess agriculture knows the ones that’re most important to hold onto.”

“It’s not really a plant, though.” Cecil was the first to catch sight of where they were headed, and went ahead a bit to get to the neon pink door first. “It’s more of a fungus, I think. Made from fungus, anyway?”

“From what I hear…” ‘Choly came along far more slowly, and only continued once he’d closed the distance between him and his boyfriend. “…From what I hear, it’s made from a lot of things. Augen tells me this might just be what breaks the ban on Vekarix, that nobody will admit that’s what made Confec possible. The designer drug market is havin’ a hey day over genetically engineering hybrid magic mushrooms an’ shit. Swear, next thing we’ll hear, they’ll have put every known psychoactive living thing together in one organism, an’ we’ll be begging to take turns licking it.”

“Maybe they’ll finally come around to letting people continue splicing legally.” Cecil shot him a sarcastic grin as he held the door to a shop open for him. “If he’s right about the Vekarix, we might eventually see more and more diverse hybrids.”

‘Choly sniffed and side-eyed him as he stepped inside the small shop.

“People are… bound to do a lot of things in this desperate climate, whether or not it’s legal. Legality dilutes innovation, but definitely makes it easier access.”

Three other customers browsed as the pair entered. Glass display counters ran the entire track of the long narrow space, filled with racks of colorful shapes in a presentation not unlike a pastry shop. The wolf hybrid shopkeeper had her long electric blue hair pulled back over the crown of her head and braided tight. Her claws matched, and she wore a wide-strapped and very low-cut tailored white jumpsuit. ‘Choly barely kept himself from making comment on the coincidence.

“They make me think of chocolates.” ‘Choly stooped a bit just to admire the molded things. Many of the ones in that particular case had been marbled with several colors in one. He caught sight of the price tags and his face drooped.

“It’s more like soap, if you want to be honest.” The shopkeeper approached them and ran a paw over her hair. The door buzzed shut again, and suddenly it was just the three of them. “I take it you gentlemen are gloss virgins? You’ve made a great choice to pop in here for your first time. We grow and refine our product ourselves. Everything on display is hand crafted.”

Stiffly, Cecil put his hands in his pockets and tried not to make eye contact.

“With neither of us really having experience with it, can you… recommend anything?”

“Well, if you’re just looking for glossy, the best place to start is one of our truffles. They’re not too bitter, and the high is pretty mellow and smooth-transitioning.” She gestured to the case with trays of milky white spheres, then next to it at the case ‘Choly had been eyeing, filled with little rainbow colored cube shapes. “And bonbons have a sharper flavor, but they take faster.”

‘Choly hemmed a bit.

“…An’ what about the hardest thing you’ve got?”

She held a breath against the roof of her mouth and let it out of her snout with a grin. She motioned for them to follow her to the back counter, where she rounded it to lean her elbows on it.

“Of course, we have more potent preps, too. You’re in luck to come in now, really. We just got in some new stuff, if you want to be cutting edge with your first time.” She pointed down to the finger-size amber screw-top ampules lined up to one side of the display. “Distilled Confec. The confectioner calls it resin, and I can say from personal experience you won’t regret it. It’s a composite-gloss, a cultivar custom-crafted by him.” She winked at Cecil, who swallowed hard and stood straighter. “My ears piqued when you mentioned Vek on your way in. Confec is great and all, but resin? It’s absolutely a food of the gods. The hardest entheogen I’ve ever had, and believe me when I call myself a connoisseur from personal experience.”

‘Choly eyed the counter, then looked up to the shopkeep.

“How much?”

“One vial’s forty-five. About twenty hits. It’s potent stuff. Only takes a drop or two, really.” She sneer-flinched and laughed. “Recommend the trope take for it, soaking it into a sugar cube. It’s real bitter.”

“You sure you need it?” Quietly, Cecil chewed at his spider bites. “As opposed to the Confec, I mean? We came here to get a handle on your anxiety, not go crazy.”

When Cecil continued to skirt the shopkeeper’s attempts at eye contact, she crossed her arms at him.

“Resin’s totally safe, if that’s your worry. But anxiety, though? If that’s what you’re here for, you’re more likely gonna want burfee. It’s got a veneer more than a gloss.” She pointed to the counter to their right, full of chalky pastel balls. “Cultivar’s got borrowed cannabis sequences. Takes the edge off everything, without inducing a full trip.”

“We can start with Confec,” ‘Choly resigned, gaze tracing the items in that case. “I was expecting a high price tag, but the resin’s a bit rich for my ah,” he leaned in nearer, “my Level Zero upbringing, if you get my meaning.”

After a moment she also leaned in even closer, and barked a laugh.

“I understand now why you need a little escapism, dreg. You got moxie keepin’ the ‘do. I know just looking at him that he’s not, though, so what’s his story? He weird around all hybrids? I’ve been tagged and documented, as if it matters.”

“You’ve got extraction scars.” Cecil tried his best not to fluster as he pointed tersely at his own ear for emphasis, keeping to a near-whisper. “Tagged, past tense. Talk about moxie.”

Her shoulders froze up when he called her out on it.

“Hum, I didn’t notice,” ‘Choly commented in a thoughtful detachment. His head tilted askew as he inspected the wolf girl’s right ear. Near the lower base, it crumpled in on itself a bit. “No wonder he’s crushing on you.”

“Tch!” Cecil removed his glasses and rubbed at his face.

“He likes hybrids,” ‘Choly continued, enjoying embarrassing him. “We both think you’re pretty cute, any rate.”

“Oh really now?” Her ears piqued and her eyelids drooped.

“…Very,” Cecil admitted. He put his glasses back on and fished out his wallet, stuffing down his social misery. “How much is the, uh, the burfee?”

“It’s twenty-five for half a dozen of one cultivar, but we’ve got a special this month, for a variety half-dozen for nineteen. Since you’re having trouble making up your minds, perhaps a sampler would help you feel out what’s up your alley. And…” She held a lyric to her tone when the pair of them looked in agreement finally. “I suppose I could toss in an amp of Resin if you give me a kiss on the cheek.”

The flush that washed across Cecil’s face lit up every faint freckle in a constellation of awkwardness, and he smirked before leaning across the counter and complying. He sneaked a brief rub of her cauliflower ear while he was at it, then pulled back to admire her, still holding out a cred. She blepped pleasantly at him as she took the cred to run it on the register screen.

“I totally didn’t think he’d do it,” ‘Choly mumbled, trying not to laugh.

“Me either.” She handed the cred back and lolled her pierced tongue in full at Cecil. “You’re not, like, a hybrid chaser or something, are you? Most normies can’t tell that my ear’s not just, like, a piercing deformity.” Her muzzle slacked. “Sorry, that was in poor taste of me. I forget some people went through with the therapy.”

Cecil’s only response, after a pause, was to wink at her. She shuffled over to unlock the display case and prepare the small cardstock box with what they’d purchased.

“Name’s Dee, by the way.” She popped the earned trinket in the corner of the box and twined it up, then handed the parcel to Cecil. “Maybe you’ll come see me again sometime.”

“Cecil. Dee, it’s been a pleasure.”

“Seconded,” ‘Choly chirped. His awkward flashing of a rigid, short hand wave and interjection of his own name got a chuckle from Dee.

“Hope it’s the escape you came in for.”

Once the two had exited the confectionery shop, Cecil continued carrying the purchase.

“Why’d you technically lie to Dee, anyway?” ‘Choly smiled at his boyfriend. “You never had any work done to have reversed.”

“Chalk it up to the stress of being ribbed over thinking she had spunk.”

The dreg choke-laughed at this, and ran a few free fingers over Cecil’s hand, eliciting a sly withdrawn smile.

They stopped briefly at a corner store for cheap premade coffee, and ‘Choly held the box while Cecil filled up two cups and paid for them. The dreg plopped down the Confec on the counter of the cramped coffee area of the establishment and took the weight off his legs for a spell against the wall, then pulled out his reader to burn a couple of minutes. He decided to snap a nondescript, contextualized pic of his acquisition and send it to Augen; even though the vampire’s availability was dimmed, he’d see the message later.

ketherphorbia sent a file SDC43011_100-5102.JPG.

ketherphorbia: mission successful

9augen is typing…

ketherphorbia: oh, hi

ketherphorbia: i’ve got good timing. didn’t think you’d be on

9augen has stopped typing.

9augen: please tell me youll be home soon. no one else is responding

ketherphorbia: need to talk?

9augen: its. sensitive. youll be home soon right

ketherphorbia: yeah, the confectioner’s we went to’s only one level up. is five minutes ok?

9augen: Yeah.

“Telling him about our adventure?”

Cecil returned and offered one of the syrofoam cups, and ‘Choly traded him the box for it, so that Cecil carried the Confec and one coffee, and ‘Choly carried the other with his free hand.

“I was about to. He’s being vague. In an urgent way. It bugs me.”

“I’m sure he just wants to trade juicies. Come on, let’s get going.”

The two each waved their public transit passes as they entered the toll lift, and cuddled against the back wall on the way one level down. Although this one cost a third-cred per level to ride one way, the nearest free lift was five blocks further away, and this toll lift let out on the same block as their housing complex. They exited and rounded the corner right into the lobby of the complex, and took the building elevator three floors to their apartment. While Cecil got the door, ‘Choly’s reader began to vibrate from receiving a vid chat, and he nearly dropped his coffee fumbling to double check that it was coming from the expected caller.

“You’re so slaggin’ impatient,” ‘Choly whined as he accepted with hesitation.

The screen was black, but he could hear labored breathing. Once inside their apartment, ‘Choly squinted at the display of his reader to see it indicated ‘no video’ and he sighed with an eye roll, suspecting that his friend had something ridiculous to reveal.

“Sorry,” the other end mustered, strangled and adenoidal. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared right now, ‘Choly.”

The foreign quality of the voice got the dreg’s attention immediately, and with a knitted brow, he quickly toed out of his creepers at the door and took his coffee to the daybed-couch in the back end of the apartment. The confec went to the side table beside the coffee on its coaster. Cecil watched ‘Choly trying to get comfortable, and offered a bold, blocky quilt and a knee-pat, but he wasn’t sure if he was invited to the call, so he took to the front end of the apartment to the confines of his book-nook, assuming he’d be fetched to join in if they so desired it. Either way, he’d hear about it later.

“You certainly don’t sound like yourself.” ‘Choly cleared his throat, hair on end. “What’d you get into, anyway?”

A long, labored pause lingered when the caller couldn’t form the words.

“…Augen…?”

“My coven got hit. They’re doing therapy raids now. Fucking Open Carry Manifesto! Fuck, it hurts so bad to talk. Can’t hardly see straight.” It took ‘Choly a while to understand what Augen had described, and a hand went to the dreg’s mouth as he stared at the blank screen. “You heard about the OCM, right. I’m not just a rambling lunatic right now?”

“I heard it was just civilian access to tranq, ‘cause Levelers are scared of the hybrids that kept their grafting. But fuck, Augen! Are you suggesting there’s a paramilitary force using it to force therapy serum? Since when did the government have the right!” He whipped off his glasses, nearly crying as everything set in. “–Oh fuck. Fuck. Are you all right? Of course you’re not all right. Fuck. –Where are you? Do we need to come get–”

“Shhhhhh. Take it down about fifteen notches. My head’s a thunderstorm right now. …One question at a time, maybe. Ugh. …First, no, the government doesn’t have the right. Best I can understand, this is a splinter of police, or army nuts, overstepping laws for sake of upholding moral code. They screamed out something like cleaning out a murderer’s den before they just unloaded on us.”

‘Choly was unaccustomed to hearing his friend talk this much at once, and the context as to why a fish had the breath to do so had his head reeling.

“But you got away, right? You’re not still at the, the coven?”

“I got away, yeah. Christ, this fucking sucks. They overdosed us on that shit, I guarantee you. Therapy’s supposed to be incremental–sessions–not abrupt like… THIS! Where’d they get that much serum? Must have a therapy physician in on their group. Sheisse. I’m the only one who’s got a possibility of springing back from this… Good chance the shock just killed a few of us outright. Grafting’s so goddamn expensive, even just solo-sequence jobs. Getting the procedure that gave people their real identities, for a lot of them it was their life savings. …Or someone else’s.”

‘Choly set down his glasses and his cataracted eyes zoned out into the blackness of the vid screen. He’d never seen his friend’s face before the grafting, and his curiosity went haywire. Briefly, he barely kept himself from asking aloud for Augen to show him what he looked like. 'Choly wondered if Augen would ever be comfortable enough to meet in person ever again. But, he trusted ‘Choly enough to voice call him like this, and he’d never done that before his grafting, either. The dreg laid down on the couch on his side, and pulled the quilt over himself.

“What I want to know is how they found where you guys were lying low. It’s not like you were being tasteless about it and lurking a geek bar or some shit. Vampires, your kind’s not stupid. …Wait, what do you mean, or someone else’s?”

“I fell off the grid after my grafting for a lot of reasons. Linnaeus’s circle works a lot like a cult. They scout for vulnerable people. People already ideologically charged and unlikely to have a change of faith even when tested. And those who either have lots of money, or have access to lots of money. Most of my coven fit that bill three-for-three, to be realistic. They were… most supportive of getting the money through whatever means possible. I sold my car. Sold pretty much everything. But it wasn’t enough. I knew how to get into my parents’ retirement savings, and I knew that money would only go to waste perpetuating their uninspired, horridly humanesque lives. And I knew they’d have nothing to do with me, the real me, so there was only one real resolution to that moral conflict. …If I got caught like this, where I’m recognizable for what I was before I was myself… I don’t think I’d do well in jail. And that’s just for the theft, what can be accounted to my birth name…”

“You… you said it was an overdose of serum,” ‘Choly reached, desperate to find something that might lift his friend’s spirits. “And you said there’s a chance you’ll spring back? You’re talking about your marine graft, right?”

A pleasant breath was all he heard for a while.

“I’d say it feels like reckless optimism to grapple onto what it is at its core, but Vek is a metagen by definition. Therapy serum is basically a human-DNA graft job, an attempt to flush out the animal grafts. They told me during my follow-up sessions that subsequent grafting jobs would never stick, thanks to the tunicate graft, and not to waste my cred. I was just rambling when I said it, but maybe you’re right. Maybe the tunicate will recognize the… virus, and kick it for me. I’d get to experience becoming myself all over again. …Thanks. Sometimes, you know just what to say. At the very least, if gives me something pleasant to focus on while this shit wears off.”

“Can I… Can I ask a bad question?” ‘Choly’s words strangled himself.

“Yes, my reader is working fine. Yes, I have vid off on purpose. No, I haven’t had the nerve to do front-facing camera yet, and there’s not a mirror here. If the answer wasn’t one of these, then what were you going to ask me? Otherwise, you know the answer.”

‘Choly swallowed and gave him an exhausted smile.

“Where are you?”

Augen wasn’t sure he’d heard him right and laughed like broken silver.

“I’m not even wholly sure how to tell you where it is. It used to be an automotive repair, going off what’s left in here, and off what it smells like. I think… it specialized in cars from back when it was all by tread. If th– When things go back to normal, I’m inclined to feel out how secure it is. It strikes me as a good place to make more… permanent than just hiding in.”

“It’ll more than go back to normal,” ‘Choly grinned. “I guarantee it.”

“I just remembered, you sent me a pic of your prize earlier. My moment of weakness has kept you from indulging. You’ve got the right idea, honestly. I’m lucky. I picked up an amp of Resin last night, and I was five minutes from taking a hit before… everything happened. It’s, like, hyper-Confec. I’ll have to let you try some next time we get together. But for now, this amp’s all for me. I… I think I can end call finally. I just can’t be… this right now.”

“You’ve earned it.”

“Enjoy your evening, bug dick.”

“You, too, stinkface. I’ll have my phone near me if you need me, all right?”

The screen flickered a moment before Augen’s face came into focus in a strange fluorescent amber lighting that didn’t match the ambient glow of Wolfram concrete interiors. ‘Choly wasn’t sure what he expected of his friend’s human features, but the juxtaposition of how his long, dark, stringy mess of hair framed his angular, slim pierced features only magnified the haunted sense of atrophy about him, crestfallen yet still forcing a tired smile. Ostensibly, a massive part of his identity had wasted away that day. Augen could tell ‘Choly had tried to take a screencap and ended the call.

9augen: may this vid call be the last you ever see of this pathetic asshole

‘Choly sent him a mushroom emoticon and set down his reader on the arm of the couch with a dopey, self-conscious smile. Augen had been gorgeous even before undergoing the grafting procedure that transfigured him, though the dreg knew better than to ever share such a sentiment. He sat up and glanced over to the box on the side table, seeking vicariousness even in his friend’s vulnerability, and pulled it into his lap. He’d be fine. And Augen would be fine.

But first, some time needed to pass, and the last thing he wanted was to be present for it.

Go to Next Available Chapter »»»

#biopunk #cyberpunk #anthro #dystopian #the uptake #with symbiotic self indulgence #wssi #abdications of flesh #melanochro kara #george cecil #august ritter #dee wolf

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crown-eater · 6 years

Text

Abdications of Flesh

[ With Symbiotic Self-Indulgence, 1. ] [ The Uptake (table of contents) ]

Man, “Maze” and “Vital Ones” need a hard overhaul after this, I swear. Establish ALL the foreshadowing Sorry in advance for how heavy this is, uh

Disconnection became the peristaltic pulse of Tri-City in the wake of the permanent quarantine. The ghosts of the Stalkers’ Quarter reached out and up from the imposing hundred-yard walls which confined it, a glaring neon Wolfram concrete warning to anyone who might wonder what might lay within an entryless barrier. In mere months, the supersaturation of public guilt left citizens complacent to a shared commiseration that it had to be done, that there was no other way; and in the wake of dispassionate transgressions, came a vast and opportunistic multitude of nepenthe. City laws evolved rapidly to meet the needs--and demands--of the masses. Everyone nursed their own personal set of vices. 24-hour liquor stores and bars bloomed up overnight, and over time other more creative maladaptive indulgences became equally commonplace.

Suddenly, more than any other point in the history of their lives, everyone wanted to be anyone but themselves. Industry could adapt. Industry could provide.

'Choly and Cecil walked down a Level 12 street in the commercial district, the smooth and simplistic concrete facades along the entire strip swathed in advertisements projected upon their every surface. Romantic strands of Valentine’s Day decor still lingered in places. ‘Choly wore a salmon dress shirt under an oversize mint green sweater with black pants and mint green creepers, with large green gauge tunnels and his bangtails loose to either side of his bespectacled face. Cecil seemed to have tried to coordinate this, with a pale pink button-up shirt and dark grey pants both with cuffs rolled, thin black suspenders, and two-tone oxford boots.

“From what I hear...” ‘Choly came along far more slowly, and only continued once he’d closed the distance between him and his boyfriend. “...From what I hear, it’s made from a lot of things. Augen tells me this might just be what breaks the ban on Vekarix, that nobody will admit that’s what made Confec possible. The designer drug market is havin’ a hey day over genetically engineering hybrid magic mushrooms an’ shit. Swear, next thing we’ll hear, they’ll have put every known psychoactive living thing together in one organism, an’ we’ll be begging to take turns licking it.”

‘Choly sniffed and side-eyed him as he stepped inside the small shop.

“People are... bound to do a lot of things in this desperate climate, whether or not it’s legal. Legality dilutes innovation, but definitely makes it easier access.”

Stiffly, Cecil put his hands in his pockets and tried not to make eye contact.

“With neither of us really having experience with it, can you... recommend anything?”

‘Choly hemmed a bit.

“...An’ what about the hardest thing you’ve got?”

She held a breath against the roof of her mouth and let it out of her snout with a grin. She motioned for them to follow her to the back counter, where she rounded it to lean her elbows on it.

‘Choly eyed the counter, then looked up to the shopkeep.

“How much?”

“You sure you need it?” Quietly, Cecil chewed at his spider bites. “As opposed to the Confec, I mean? We came here to get a handle on your anxiety, not go crazy.”

When Cecil continued to skirt the shopkeeper’s attempts at eye contact, she crossed her arms at him.

After a moment she also leaned in even closer, and barked a laugh.

“You’ve got extraction scars.” Cecil tried his best not to fluster as he pointed tersely at his own ear for emphasis, keeping to a near-whisper. “Tagged, past tense. Talk about moxie.”

Her shoulders froze up when he called her out on it.

“Tch!” Cecil removed his glasses and rubbed at his face.

“He likes hybrids,” ‘Choly continued, enjoying embarrassing him. “We both think you’re pretty cute, any rate.”

“Oh really now?” Her ears piqued and her eyelids drooped.

“...Very,” Cecil admitted. He put his glasses back on and fished out his wallet, stuffing down his social misery. “How much is the, uh, the burfee?”

“It’s twenty-five for half a dozen of one cultivar, but we’ve got a special this month, for a variety half-dozen for nineteen. Since you’re having trouble making up your minds, perhaps a sampler would help you feel out what’s up your alley. And...” She held a lyric to her tone when the pair of them looked in agreement finally. “I suppose I could toss in an amp of Resin if you give me a kiss on the cheek.”

“I totally didn’t think he’d do it,” ‘Choly mumbled, trying not to laugh.

Cecil’s only response, after a pause, was to wink at her. She shuffled over to unlock the display case and prepare the small cardstock box with what they’d purchased.

“Name’s Dee, by the way.” She popped the earned trinket in the corner of the box and twined it up, then handed the parcel to Cecil. “Maybe you’ll come see me again sometime.”

“Cecil. Dee, it’s been a pleasure.”

“Seconded,” ‘Choly chirped. His awkward flashing of a rigid, short hand wave and interjection of his own name got a chuckle from Dee.

“Hope it’s the escape you came in for.”

Once the two had exited the confectionery shop, Cecil continued carrying the purchase.

“Why’d you technically lie to Dee, anyway?” ‘Choly smiled at his boyfriend. “You never had any work done to have reversed.”

“Chalk it up to the stress of being ribbed over thinking she had spunk.”

The dreg choke-laughed at this, and ran a few free fingers over Cecil’s hand, eliciting a sly withdrawn smile.

ketherphorbia sent a file SDC43011_100-5102.JPG.

ketherphorbia: mission successful

9augen is typing...

ketherphorbia: oh, hi

ketherphorbia: i’ve got good timing. didn’t think you’d be on

9augen has stopped typing.

9augen: please tell me youll be home soon. no one else is responding

ketherphorbia: need to talk?

9augen: its. sensitive. youll be home soon right

ketherphorbia: yeah, the confectioner’s we went to’s only one level up. is five minutes ok?

9augen: Yeah.

“Telling him about our adventure?”

Cecil returned and offered one of the syrofoam cups, and ‘Choly traded him the box for it, so that Cecil carried the Confec and one coffee, and ‘Choly carried the other with his free hand.

“I was about to. He’s being vague. In an urgent way. It bugs me.”

“I’m sure he just wants to trade juicies. Come on, let’s get going.”

“You’re so slaggin’ impatient,” ‘Choly whined as he accepted with hesitation.

“Sorry,” the other end mustered, strangled and adenoidal. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared right now, ‘Choly.”

“You certainly don’t sound like yourself.” ‘Choly cleared his throat, hair on end. “What’d you get into, anyway?”

A long, labored pause lingered when the caller couldn’t form the words.

“...Augen...?”

“I heard it was just civilian access to tranq, ‘cause Levelers are scared of the hybrids that kept their grafting. But fuck, Augen! Are you suggesting there’s a paramilitary force using it to force therapy serum? Since when did the government have the right!” He whipped off his glasses, nearly crying as everything set in. “--Oh fuck. Fuck. Are you all right? Of course you’re not all right. Fuck. --Where are you? Do we need to come get--”

“Shhhhhh. Take it down about fifteen notches. My head’s a thunderstorm right now. ...One question at a time, maybe. Ugh. ...First, no, the government doesn’t have the right. Best I can understand, this is a splinter of police, or army nuts, overstepping laws for sake of upholding moral code. They screamed out something like cleaning out a murderer’s den before they just unloaded on us.”

‘Choly was unaccustomed to hearing his friend talk this much at once, and the context as to why a fish had the breath to do so had his head reeling.

“But you got away, right? You’re not still at the, the coven?”

“I got away, yeah. Christ, this fucking sucks. They overdosed us on that shit, I guarantee you. Therapy’s supposed to be incremental--sessions--not abrupt like... THIS! Where’d they get that much serum? Must have a therapy physician in on their group. Sheisse. I’m the only one who’s got a possibility of springing back from this... Good chance the shock just killed a few of us outright. Grafting’s so goddamn expensive, even just solo-sequence jobs. Getting the procedure that gave people their real identities, for a lot of them it was their life savings. ...Or someone else’s.”

“I fell off the grid after my grafting for a lot of reasons. Linnaeus’s circle works a lot like a cult. They scout for vulnerable people. People already ideologically charged and unlikely to have a change of faith even when tested. And those who either have lots of money, or have access to lots of money. Most of my coven fit that bill three-for-three, to be realistic. They were... most supportive of getting the money through whatever means possible. I sold my car. Sold pretty much everything. But it wasn’t enough. I knew how to get into my parents’ retirement savings, and I knew that money would only go to waste perpetuating their uninspired, horridly humanesque lives. And I knew they’d have nothing to do with me, the real me, so there was only one real resolution to that moral conflict. ...If I got caught like this, where I’m recognizable for what I was before I was myself... I don’t think I’d do well in jail. And that’s just for the theft, what can be accounted to my birth name...”

“You... you said it was an overdose of serum,” ‘Choly reached, desperate to find something that might lift his friend’s spirits. “And you said there’s a chance you’ll spring back? You’re talking about your marine graft, right?”

A pleasant breath was all he heard for a while.

“I’d say it feels like reckless optimism to grapple onto what it is at its core, but Vek is a metagen by definition. Therapy serum is basically a human-DNA graft job, an attempt to flush out the animal grafts. They told me during my follow-up sessions that subsequent grafting jobs would never stick, thanks to the tunicate graft, and not to waste my cred. I was just rambling when I said it, but maybe you’re right. Maybe the tunicate will recognize the... virus, and kick it for me. I’d get to experience becoming myself all over again. ...Thanks. Sometimes, you know just what to say. At the very least, if gives me something pleasant to focus on while this shit wears off.”

“Can I... Can I ask a bad question?” ‘Choly’s words strangled himself.

‘Choly swallowed and gave him an exhausted smile.

“Where are you?”

Augen wasn’t sure he’d heard him right and laughed like broken silver.

“I’m not even wholly sure how to tell you where it is. It used to be an automotive repair, going off what’s left in here, and off what it smells like. I think... it specialized in cars from back when it was all by tread. If th-- When things go back to normal, I’m inclined to feel out how secure it is. It strikes me as a good place to make more... permanent than just hiding in.”

“It’ll more than go back to normal,” ‘Choly grinned. “I guarantee it.”

“I just remembered, you sent me a pic of your prize earlier. My moment of weakness has kept you from indulging. You’ve got the right idea, honestly. I’m lucky. I picked up an amp of Resin last night, and I was five minutes from taking a hit before... everything happened. It’s, like, hyper-Confec. I’ll have to let you try some next time we get together. But for now, this amp’s all for me. I... I think I can end call finally. I just can’t be... this right now.”

“You’ve earned it.”

“Enjoy your evening, bug dick.”

“You, too, stinkface. I’ll have my phone near me if you need me, all right?”

9augen: may this vid call be the last you ever see of this pathetic asshole

But first, some time needed to pass, and the last thing he wanted was to be present for it.

#biopunk #cyberpunk #dystopian #drug use tw #police brutality tw maybe #With Symbiotic Self-Indulgence #the uptake #august ritter #melanochro kara #george cecil #dee wolf #wssi #dysmorphia tw #dysphoria tw

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bittysvalentines · 6 years

Text

To @stagemanagingsmh

From @beaniebaneenie I had so much fun writing this, thank you so much for the idea. In the future, I may even take this further and write a bit more with it, play in this little AU-verse some more. Thank you again, and I hope you have a lovely Valentine's Day!

______________

Sometimes, Bitty wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten so lucky. Well, all right. He knew a few things about how he’d gotten here. Applying to the baker’s job at the Boston Whole Foods on a drunken whim was the start of it, really. He’d only done it to get Shitty to shut up – and to procrastinate some more on writing his thesis. Only to get called in for an interview a week later. And get the job a few days after that. Sure, he’d spent months living in Shitty’s guest room, but he’d paid a portion of rent, and eventually, when Chicago had been opening eight new stores, Bitty had been asked how he felt about a move. And a promotion to head baker.

He’d taken it, of course. Chicago had winter, but hell, so did Boston. And it had been awfully nice to truly be on his own, to really stretch his wings. He loved all his friends, he did. But living with Shitty in Boston had felt so much like an extension of college that some days, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to come into his own.

And now, here he was, sipping his coffee in Andersonville on a gorgeous sunny Chicago summer day. He’d left retail behind and had been a personal stylist for almost two years now. He had an apartment with a view of Lake Michigan. And he got to do things like this… just stroll down the street, having time to himself, able to be out of the closet and comfortable in his own skin at twenty-five years old. As he walked past the shops toward George’s – he felt like ice cream – Bitty’s eyes landed on a well-muscled guy in a tight grey tee-shirt and bright teal jeans. He could only see him from the back, but lord, Bitty liked what he saw. Andersonville had a well-deserved reputation as being a very gay-friendly neighborhood, and during the summer, the rainbow stickers and flags came out in full force.

As he got closer, Bitty could hear snatches of the conversation, and couldn’t help but listen a bit.

“-really nice of you, but uh, I’ve-” The guy in the teal pants took a small step backwards, but another guy – a bigger guy, Bitty noticed – put an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

“What, you got somewhere to be that’s better?”

“I just- like I said, I’m flattered,” teal jeans guy said, “but I-”

“Come on,” and now Bitty was close enough to see that the other guy was sneering. “Baby, you’re obviously dressed for it. Are you really trying to tell me your twink ass wasn’t gonna get picked up?”

“I- please-”

Bitty heard the slight tremor in teal jeans guy’s voice. Oh no, this was not going to happen, not on his watch. Bitty caught the eye of one of the employees, who nodded and moved toward the pair. He knew Tim was a good guy, and he was huge… Bitty wasn’t stupid, he wanted to help, but if things got ugly, he knew he couldn’t really do much to stop the other guy.

Quickly sliding up to teal jeans guy, he let his voice get louder, putting as much force behind the volume as he could, and desperately hoping that teal jeans guy would understand that he was trying to help him.

“Oh, there you are sweetpea! I’ve been lookin’ all over for you! Definitely my fault, I thought you said we were gonna meet later, and then I was all rushed – but here you are!” He put an arm around his back, a bit higher than he normally might have if this guy were actually his boyfriend, but he didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable than he already was. Bitty was halfway up on tiptoe to press a soft kiss to the guy’s cheek to really sell it when he froze. Bitty knew that face, even though he hadn’t seen it since his sophomore year of college.

Kent Parson.

Kent Parson was here. In Chicago. At George’s, getting ice cream. And Bitty had been about to kiss him. This revelation completely stopped him in his tracks, but for his part Kent went with it, his eyes widening slightly as he saw Bitty, but relaxing a second later as he leaned down and pressed a feather-light kiss to Bitty’s jaw.

“Hey babe,” he said softly. “Was about to text you, thanks for finding me.”

Bitty heard the unspoken thank you under this innocuous sentence.

The other guy scoffed. “Figures you’d find the one guy twinkier than you.”

Before either Kent or Bitty could say anything else, Tim growled up from behind the other guy. “We got a problem?”

Bitty smirked as the asshole went about four shades paler, and gently pulled Kent away. “Come on honey, let’s get out of here.”

Kent glanced back once, but quickly followed.

Once they were about a block away, Bitty dropped his hand, trying not to think about the part of him that missed its warm weight in his.

“Um,” Kent said, “that guy, um, is he…” he trailed off a bit, looking lost.

“Oh sure, Tim’ll be fine. He sort of acts as an unofficial bouncer, and he’s helped me out of a couple jams before. I’ve been where you were,” he explained, “honestly, it’s like men are determined to be trash across all sexualities. Ugh, I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

Kent just gave him a soft smile. “Thanks for the rescue, Eric.”

For the second time in ten minutes, Bitty’s brain stuttered to a halt. “You- you remember me? I mean,” he added quickly, “I definitely know who you are, but back there didn’t seem like the place to say. You had enough unwanted attention and- lord, here I go rambling when I asked you a question-” A horrible thought occurred to Bitty. If Kent remembered him from Epikegster all those years ago, he probably didn’t have the best opinion of him for eavesdropping on what had been a very private conversation.

“Yeah, I remember you,” Kent said. His face has the slightest blush, but his voice seemed easy. “You were really nice about asking for selfies… and you were the only one who asked me something about myself at that party,” he said. “Well, something that didn’t involve hockey.”

Bitty didn’t want to leave the elephant in the room, but before he could say anything, Kent beat him to it.

“I uh… I also remember you from outside Zi- Jack’s room,” he said, and now Kent was blushing in earnest. “So, um. I know you probably don’t- well, thanks for helping me, especially since you probably don’t like me much.”

Kent shuffled his feet, and Bitty’s heart clenched. “Oh honey, no,” he said. Kent’s eyes snapped up to meet his from where they’d been examining a piece of gum on the sidewalk.

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” he said softly. “It’s okay.”

“I’m not lying though,” Bitty said. “Sure, there was a while there where I hated you,” and as he said it, Kent winced, though he looked like he was trying to hide it. That wouldn’t do. Bitty kept talking, trying to get the words out fast enough that he could erase that look from Kent’s face.

“But as I kept thinking about it, I just… honey, I realized that whatever went on, I didn’t know everything, y’know? There was a whole history there, and a door between me’n y’all… and lord knows I’ve seen Jack be a jerk. He’s been one to me enough before. And I’d be a big ol’ hypocrite if I got mad at you for saying things in the heat of the moment, goodness knows that I’ve done that before when I got mad at someone. Jack even said once that y’all both owed each other apologies… honey, I couldn’t hate you anymore for that.”

Kent looked about as lost and confused as Bitty had felt a few minutes ago. “Wow,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone be that nice to their boyfriend’s ex before,” he said, though his eyes had gone soft again and he looked grateful.

“Boy- what are you talking about, Kent?”

And Kent looked confused again. “Aren’t… you and Jack… I mean…”

Oh. Okay, now some things made sense, and as this last piece clicked into place, the knowledge that Kent was aware of Jack’s bisexuality from personal confirmation threw the Epikegster fight into clarity for him. “Kent, no… no, we’re not,” Bitty said gently.

“But – but I saw how he was looking at you. I know what that look means,” he said.

Bitty chuckled. “That makes one of us. I had no idea until he kissed me at his graduation.”

“He didn’t.”

“He did. Ran across campus and everything. But being honest? He’d never given me the slightest hint that he wasn’t straight as an arrow, and I’d gone and gotten over my crush a few months earlier. Plus, he hadn’t ever really apologized to me for all the trouble he’d put me through my freshman year.”

Kent looked like at least this sentiment he understood.

Bitty took a chance. “We’re still friends. But after a while, you know, once I was a few boyfriends into my own love life, I realized that whatever was between y'all – and lord, I am not fixing to pry into your business, that is between y'all two, not me – anyway, whatever it was, there was probably more happening than I realized. So I figured it wasn't worth dwelling on, y'know?"

Kent was looking at him with such a soft smile that Bitty felt stripped bare, open and vulnerable, but he didn’t feel exposed. The air around him felt strange, like something was happening, or beginning to happen, and whatever it was would put Bitty on a path forward.

Kent bit his lip, rubbing his neck. Then he gave Bitty a sort of hopeful grin. "So... I don't actually know what you do for a living, so feel free to tell me to fuck off... but do have any advice for how to spend my afternoon? I only ever get here for games, and like, this city is supposed to be really pretty this time of year?"

Bitty laughed. "So you visit hockey cities during the off season?"

Kent shrugged, looking a little embarrassed, but he didn’t deny it. "I don't really have anything to do until August, and I make more money than I'm ever gonna spend anyway. Might as well see the sights. I travel a lot for games, but we're never anywhere long enough to..." he paused, fingers grasping like he was trying to find the right word.

"To breathe?" Bitty supplied, thinking that if his earlier guess about Kent was correct, and he also wasn't out to his team, he could certainly understand wanting to get away from Vegas and just be another faceless tourist.

Kent nodded. “Is…” he started to talk, but then cut himself off, like maybe Bitty wouldn’t want to hear it.

“Go ahead hun,” Bitty nodded.

“…is it weird that I still kinda want ice cream?”

Bitty laughed. “No, not at all. But for obvious reasons, I think we oughta go somewhere else.”

“We?” Kent seemed more shocked by this than anything.

“Sure, hun. I was there for ice cream too.” Unless Kent wanted to be by himself? “I mean, I’m not trying to impose or anything,” he said.

“Eric, you live here.”

“Exactly,” he argued. “I live here, I can go wherever I want, whenever I want. You’re only here for a little while, I don’t wanna ruin your vacation.”

“You already saved it,” Kent said softly.

“Well then,” Bitty said, knowing by now that Kent would try to hide this unplanned admission under a layer of sarcasm, “let’s get goin’. I know another place that’s got great frozen custard and is only a half mile from the beach.”

Lord, how could anyone in the media ever think they’d seen Kent Parson’s real smile? Compared to this one, the Media Smirk™ was clearly pasted on and faker than a soccer mom’s blonde highlights.

They walked along, chatting companionably about a host of topics, both easily keeping up conversation. Bitty frequently found himself wanting to hold Kent’s hand again, which was weird, considering he’d only held it before for about thirty seconds, and that had all been a ruse anyway.

Roughly forty-five minutes later, they both had big cones of frozen custard. Bitty had chosen chocolate, but he couldn’t stop staring at Kent’s vanilla. Not because he wished he’d chosen that flavor… but because he couldn’t stop staring at Kent’s tongue as he licked long, swirling stripes around the twisted curly-que of his cone. He was positive that Kent wasn’t doing it on purpose. But lord, it was doing things to him to keep watching it. Things. Things like making him imagine what it might be like to kiss Kent.

“-beach?”

“Huh?” Bitty shook his head, dislodging the glorious image of Kent pinning him on a long beach chair and giving him cold sweet kisses that tasted like vanilla until he couldn’t remember his own name. He shouldn’t be thinking like that.

Kent smiled, giving his ice cream another lick. “You said something about a beach,” he repeated. “I mean, we’re probably like, fifteen hundred miles from the ocean in either direction, but I could definitely get us plane tickets if you’re really that desperate.”

And there was a thought. Kent probably would do it too, if Bitty asked him to. For a fleeting moment, Bitty almost considered taking him up on it… but he knew he had a client meeting tomorrow afternoon.

“Oceans aren’t the only beaches in this country, Mr. Parson,” he said, bumping his shoulder against Kent’s, and feeling a flush of warmth when Kent blushed and bumped him back. “Come on, let’s go.”

The ice cream was finished before they rounded the last block, which was good for a few reasons. Bitty wasn’t sure how much longer he could handle watching Kent’s tongue, but he also wanted to be able to fully appreciate Kent’s face when he saw the lake for the first time. He pulled out his phone in anticipation, hoping he could get a decent picture. Bitty wasn’t disappointed. They curved around from Thorndale to Sheridan and there she was, laid out in glittering deep cerulean glory.

Kent gasped softly, and Bitty stayed half a step to the side as he clicked a quick picture of the look of absolute surprise and delight on Kent’s face as he looked out over Lake Michigan. He checked to make sure the picture had taken, and gasped himself. The look on Kent’s face was so – it was – it was perfect. Bitty looked up. He had to see if the real Kent was as beautiful as the photograph.

The photograph didn’t do him justice. The line of his shoulders was open and relaxed, and Bitty followed it up to Kent’s jaw, his mouth gently curving in a delighted smile, his eyes, soft and beautiful, reflecting the bright blue of the lake, his sun-kissed freckles on his nose, and his flyaway golden hair, sunlight made substance as it blew in the soft breeze. This boy… this beautiful boy.

Without quite knowing how it happened, Bitty found his hands closing around Kent’s, who finally looked away from the lake and met Bitty’s eyes.

“Thank you,” Kent murmured. “Thank you so much, Eric. I- Today’s been-”

“Can I kiss you?” The question came out in a whisper, Bitty having asked without consciously deciding to.

Kent’s eyes went wide, his face flushing, though with embarrassment or want, Bitty wasn’t sure. Bitty watched as his eyes shifted, first going a bit grey, then green seeping in. When Kent spoke, it was in a voice even softer than Bitty’s.

“You really want to?”

He sounded so hopeful, but wary, like he expected to hear Bitty change his mind, to offer something he desperately wanted only to take it away.

Bitty couldn’t make the words come out, so he just nodded, bringing one hand up to gently brush his fingers through Kent’s hair.

Kent didn’t wait any longer, leaning down and meeting Bitty’s lips with his own, tentative and shy at first. Bitty’s eyes dropped closed as he let his fingertips slide through Kent’s hair, down his neck, gripping his shoulder. He wanted to hold Kent, to pull him closer, but he also didn’t want to lose the warmth of Kent’s hand in his.

Kent didn’t seem to want to lose it either. One of his hands found its way to Bitty’s waist and curled him closer. Bitty took the hint and pushed himself up on his tiptoes, wanting to be closer, to feel himself entirely pressed up against Kent, to feel every one of his muscles as Kent held him in turn.

After a minute – or several sunlit days, Bitty wasn’t sure – they broke apart, foreheads touching, fingers still intertwined, both breathing a bit heavy. Bitty broke the silence first.

“You got plans for dinner?” he asked, voice a bit husky.

Kent’s answering chuckle was just as deep. “Whatever you’re doing is good enough for me.”

“How long’re you here for?” he asked, meaning Chicago. But Kent’s response sent a thrill through him down to his toes, and Bitty knew that his earlier feeling had been right. This was definitely a new path, but he knew he’d be on this one for good.

“As long as you’ll have me.”

“An awful long time then.”

Kent’s kisses did taste like vanilla.

#stagemanagingsmh #fanfic #bv2018 #bittysvalentines #bittyparse

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insomniac-arrest · 7 years

Text

The Red Polka-dot Umbrella

genre: sci-fi, wlw, original

words: 3k

Classifieds

You were the women with the red polka-dot umbrella hurrying down the Gran Demeter subway station with a coffee spill down your blouse. I was the girl with the black shrink-wrap hat on next to the guy playing Toxic on his harmonica.

You had on yellow heels and maroon pants, your wallet fell out of your pocket as you shouted at some Tom Cruise looking guy to slow down. You didn’t look back.

It’s a black wallet with a belt buckle around the middle and four pockets on the inside, no ID but you’re missing an expired costco card and a good movie ticket. More importantly, your ticker was tucked away behind around like all 300 of your receipts.

Honestly, I’ll admit I considered just picking it up and pocketing your twenty-five bucks (heads-up: I already used the ten to buy a new vape. My bad).

But this is why I’m writing you: dear red-polka dot umbrella woman, I saw your ticker. Your numbers are in the single digits

Please contact me immediately, here’s my website and my number: [redacted]

CALL ME

summary: a young woman tries to return a wallet in a faceless city of a million people as time runs out

Here’s what Sheena knew: Gran Demeter station was a terribly busking site, busking was still stupid no matter what her roommate Tomcat said, and some lady she didn’t know was about to die.

Well, ‘didn’t know,’ was a relative term. Sheena knew that the lady liked tacky key charms (5 receipts), bad coffee (17 receipts from Mike’s Hardbrew), and had a thing for brightly colored shoes and extra large ridiculous scarves (too many receipts to count).

She knew she had a well-worn wallet with four pockets, all of her credit cards were disabled, and that she kept her ticker in her wallet after the bracelet part looked like it snapped. Sheena looked at the bright red ‘six’ on the dials like it was about to personally insult her family.

“Goddammit,” Sheena bit as she looked both ways across the platform. She could feel the rails rumbling and the stars were peaking out between the glass panels.

She shakes her head and moves from one bench to the next restlessly, she checks her watch for the fifth time and hopes the tram security were still paid below nebula minimum wage. They wouldn’t bother her then no matter how long she loitered between trams 5 and 6/

Her watches speakers buss to life, ‘Miss Coilwrecker,’ she jumps when Kip addresses her by the name she’d asked him to a couple drunken nights ago.

“Uh,” she shakes her watch, “yeah, Kip?” She blinks, the universal assistant device blinks at her.

“You have,” buzz, “36 new messages,” buzz, “tram 340 coming in. Do you need a ticket?” “No Kip.” She says heavily with a sigh, running her thumb over the smooth leather in her pocket, “any of those messages end in someone yelling ‘punkt?’

“Around five ma’am.”

She blows air out of her nose, “Analyze the rest for sincerity levels.”

“Of course Ma’am,” the little device buzzes off, Sheena doesn’t think she’s communicated with it this much since month she lived here. She usually didn’t have any use for it except to order pizza and tell it to put certain songs on 12x repeat.

Sheena stood on her tiptoes as she got on top of the bench, the vibrations of the next tram shakes her through her toes. She grits her teeth, “come on.”

She rubs her fingers over the leather of the wallet again as the station braces for the repressurization of the tram, the smell of ozone already oozes out onto the platform. Sheena’s eyes are rake over the various people stuffed inside the first car.

Red umbrella, polka dots, bright scarves, she claws for anything she could possibly recognize from this lady. There was only today left.

Her pockets are weighed down and Sheena’s eyes bulge out as she spies a mountain of dark hair and someone wearing a bright yellow kerchief.

“Now we’re talkin,” she jumps down to walk toward the color just as the doors about to open.

She feels the woosh of the tram doors as they slide open and a rabble of commuters come pushing their way out of the interplanet transport tram.

“Oi!” Sheena pushes a Glibbon out of the way as he rubs part of his wet shoulder fins on her new jacket, she shakes off the sticky droplets before pushing her way forward toward the yellow.

She staggers forward and starts waving, “hey!” Sheena uses her outdoor voices as she elbows her way forward, “you in the yellow neck thing.” The woman was hurrying on rainbow high heels toward the exits blithely and Sheena groans as she has to start to jog forward.

“I said stop,” she reaches forward, “look you might be dying lady.” The woman in the yellow pivots on her heel, she turns on her roughly, “excuse me?” Sheena rolls her eyes, “hey you missing a wallet?” Yellow Scarf just blinks at her, Sheena snaps her fingers, “I said, you missing a wallet? Or just or manners...” She bites at her.

The woman bares her teeth, “I’m not missing anything, I have places to be. What are you going on about?” Sheena shakes her head, “okay,” she lets go of her elbow, “but if you see a woman in all this lot with a red umbrella,” she takes a deep breath, “her ticker is missing. It’s almost atta a zero.” The women’s eyebrows shoot up, “Well.” She clears her throat, her tone going down a few octaves, “I’ll uh, I’ll keep on the lookout.” Sheena gives her a little salute and watches her leave with her shoulder’s slumping, “yeah, thanks.” She says bluntly as she watches the yellow disappear and her heart sink. “Fuck.” That was mostly for her own benefit.

She starts scanning the crowd again, “Kip,” she speaks into her watch, “update.”

The little speaker on her wrist churns out a stream of static before responding crisply: “11 remaining messages, most reporting traces of confusion or tomfoolery.’

“Erg,” she watches a couple more bland woman pass, no red umbrella. No extra large scarves.

“However,” Kip pauses in some sort of misguided suspense algorithm coded in. “Current DNA swabs of public terrain interacted with is active.” “Yes?” Sheena eyes her metal screen, “this isn’t the damn Odyssey, get to it.”

Kip beeped, “77% DNA match of the wallet with a public database at 9:51am. Placed next to public handrails of Lilly Czern park. Midtown Curie burrough.”

Sheena nods several times in a row to a degree she feared might make her dizzy, “why the hell didn’t you say right away? Fucking ring me.” She starts to run, “we don’t have much time.”

“You told me on December 9th 3041 to install ‘chill protocol’ and I have in accordance been installing eve-” “Yeah yeah,” she starts to run.

The warm soggy air of Demeter hits her right away as she runs out onto the surface of the small planet, the familiar smell of poppy pretzel bites and corner booth food floods her senses. Sheena muscles her way through the early morning tram crowd and gets fed directions toward the high rises of the business district.

“Shitty firm ladies,” she shakes her head and can’t believe she’s trekking all the way down to the financial district to give someone back their expired Costco card. Sheena sucks it up and misses a ditch puddle as she fast-walks toward Curie Borough.

The sky above flashes lighter blue as the artificial ozone barrier tints for ‘mid-day’ ambiance, Sheena resists the regular urge to throw something at the sensors. A small dog yaps at her as she passes the first cupid trees and Sheena wrinkles her nose at it.

She stuffs her hand into her pocket and rubs the leather again, she didn’t have the heart to open the wallet yet and see if the ticker had gone down yet again.

“Miss Coilwrecker,” her wrist beeps and Sheena almost swallows her own tongue in surprise.

“What is it Kip?” She says gruffly as she passes the midsection of the long park and approaches the forty-story skyscrapers of downtown.

“Your friend Tomcat-”

“No.” “He would like to know-” “Absolutely not.” “He requires your presence at his ‘gig’ tonight. And,” there was a short stall, “questions your current choices in some colorful words.”

“Such as?” “Ahem,” Kip cleared some robotic throat it didn’t have, “stalking is frowned upon in all 50 planet districts. Let the moneyed clucks get what’s coming to them. Just because you’re going through a dry spell-” “Okay, I get it.” She cuts the universal assistant off. “He also reminds you to not get thrown in jail for having ‘one angry ass mug’ and threatening someone. Followed by more colorful words.” “I get it. Send him some colorful words back, I told him this had to get done, no stupid gig tonight or not.” She growls and glares down a security droid as it passes her.

“Which colors?” Kip asks briskly, almost off-put if I robot she programmed to have a British accent could be ‘off-put.’

“Fuck,” she says carefully, “off. Those ones.”

There is a slight pause, “Of course.” Kip buzzes back into silence and Sheena eyes the passing pedestrians on the sidewalk. Red umbrella. Sheena tries to scramble up on top of a bench to get a better viewpoint, she sees a sea of grey suits in all directions and hears the clatter of busy feat.

“Oh, left ma’am. DNA match with public crosswalk Zelda Street.” Kip pitches through in real time from her police record patch she installed.

“On it!” Sheena almost topples off the bench as she scrambles toward the crosswalk. Her pulse picks up as her eyes dart back and forth across a group of Nel in rapid chirping conversation. “Come on,” she turns in circles as she sees two different crosswalks, “come on.”

Sheena feels a peak of hopelessness as the city melds into a blur and she sees too many streets and not enough twenty-something woman. Sheena pauses when she sees red. Bright red.

“Kip,” she gasps as she reaches out and starts to run, a pair of bright green pants blared next to a wrought iron park fence.

Sheena takes a deep breath, “HEY!” She shouts and points, “you.” She must have said the words forcefully enough as a head of dark hair turns and the face of a wide-eyed young woman stares back at her. She had wide-set dark eyes and full lips, she was tall, a little taller than Sheena.

She had a red umbrella sticking out of her bag and a heavy silver scarf.

Sheena pointed at her and narrows her eyes, “don’t move a muscle.”

The woman’s eyes were still huge, Sheena reached into her pockets to bring out the wallet and throw it at her if she has to. She gets the leather in hand but that’s just as she hears the clacking of heels against pavement.

She looks up to see some disappearing green.

“What did I just say?” Sheena groans as she watches her target begin to run the other direction. “I swear, this is damn a charitable act!” Sheena calls after her.

She goes back and forth in her head for a moment, deciding if it’s worth it. In a burst of spite she follows her out into the crosswalk.

All she has to go off of is fluffy black hair and bright green pants, but the green was bright enough to put neon signs to shame, she ducks in between bushes and waves. “Wait, fucking wait.” The woman was trying to cross a busy street of tubes and geocars. She doesn’t look behind her, Sheena considers kicking her as she gets close enough.

“Wallet,” she calls out, “It’s your wallet.” The woman just looks over her shoulder at her and walks straight into traffic, Sheena throws her hands up, “oh come on.” She’s forced to find another way across the five lanes when the crossing sign comes on and she somehow catches the last of the woman entering a building. Sheena is about to go football-tackle that woman and stuff the wallet in her mouth when she gets a message.

“Direct transmission,” Kip drones, “direct transmission.” “Now?” She huffs, “I’m busy.” “Direct transmission sent at 10:21 am from proximate personal Kip.” “Uh,” Sheena stared at Kip for a moment.

“10:21, message received,” static goes over the speakers before comes out in a hollowed mechanical voice, “I don’t want it.” Sheena blinks, “Want what?” “Message analysis,” Kip pauses for a moment, “it.”

“I don’t have time for this.” She pushed her way into the building she saw the woman enter. The Demeter Planetary Bank building, the front desk person eyes her but she manages to get to the elevator and get inside.

Sheena starts by pressing all 27 of the elevator buttons and watches her elevator mates leave with a couple deep grumbles at her. “Yeah yeah.” She waves them out.

“Message received.” Kip informs him. “Repeat message received.” “What is it?” “Stop.”

Sheena clicks on one of the side buttons of her watch, “send back the message: hold the hell still and I will.” “Yes Coilwrecker.”

Sheena blows air out of her nose and waits.

She feels her skin crawl as she passes more endless dim hallways and sees nothing but unfamiliar faces.

“My name is Sheena by the way,” she says into her watch.

Kip clicks to life, “Would you like me to call you-” “No, send that to the girl. She somehow got my number.” “Visual transmissions are now possible through singular contact and-” “Yes, go tell her my name. And that her numbers are going down.”

Kip goes quiet and Sheena checks the last hallway to see if she could get anything, “message received on the roof.” “Yes!” Sheena bullies a timid looking office worker into pointing her toward the roof access and she runs. There was a lot of running today.

Sheena bursts the roof door open and hollers, “stop!” She catches the woman’s bright eyes, Sheena cups her mouth, “You’re gonna fucking die.” She puts her hands up defensively in response, “I don’t have any more money.” Sheena groans deeply, “no wait, not like that.” She backs up and Sheena closes the door behind her before yanking out her pocket contents. She takes out the ticker, the red letter announcing an ominous ‘3.’ “Have you even been paying attention to your VF? Dumbass.” Her eyebrows shoot up, “someone really found that…” Sheena balls up her free hand and cowboy-walks over, “yeah. And it was a pain.” The woman covers her face and groans as she descends to the ground, her legs buckling at the new, “just throw it over the roof.” Sheena’s face falls a little, “what’re you talking about polka-dot lady?” She peers up between her fingers, “...polka-dot lady?” Sheena shrugs, “For the umbrella.” She rubs her neck and the woman looks up at her curiously. “And you

“Flores,” she says slowly, “my name is Flores.” Sheena puts her hand out, “Sheena.” She says bluntly, “I’ve been tracking you for two days now. Sheena.” Flores cocks her head to the side, “just for my wallet?” Sheena shakes the ticker in her hand, “dude, you are literally almost at 0.” Flores turns away and faces the street view, she hangs her head and they both stare out over the city.

“What’s the point?” She sighs and swings her foot over the side. “Let’s just say I’m screwed either way.” She looks up and her hair falls around her face, “I couldn’t make it.” Sheena itches the back of her hand, she glances back at the door and then the spot next to the stranger. She rubs her nose for a moment, she takes the seat next to her, settling down slowly with her legs hanging off the edge. The dizzying gray streets lay below.

“Please,” Sheena pushes her wallet toward her, “you still have one more punch before you get a free coffee at Hardbrew. You still have 20% a chipotle burrito.” Flores turns her face toward her slightly, she grins slightly, “you went through my stuff?” “Well,” Sheena’s mouth falls open.

Flore cracks a painted smile and lets out a little laugh, like the scratch of bark or something low and rumbling tumbling through the air. “Alright then.” Sheena looks away, “I was trying to find a way to return the dang thing.” Flores chuckles again, “did you find it on the train? I was a little freaked when I first lost all 25 bucks and all of my dead credit cards.” Sheena flashes her a grin, “And like 300 receipts.”

“Those too!” They laugh.

Sheena looks at from her purple pumps to her flowey pearl shirt, “okay, but I may or may not have bought a new vape with your stuff, but uh.” She looks her up and down, “you looked like someone who could use their wallet back.” Flores puts her hand out, “Do I?” She hums, “you work down here?” Sheena lifts an eyebrow, “Do I look like I work down here?” She displays her chipped painted nails and ripped pants.

Flores smiles, “Right.” Sheena hunches over, “I was just playing in the terminal. Or. My friend was playing and I was making fun of him as all you business people went to work.” She snorts, “told him it was a bad spot.” Flores bites her lip, “you play something too?” Sheena pushes her wallet toward her, “tell you what.” She wags it in front of her, “pay back your ticker and I’ll play you something on my violin. Which,” she winks, “I don’t just play for anyone.” Flores frowned slightly, “why?” “I dunno, I don’t just whip out the amp for-” “No, I mean, why would you do that?” She seems a little struck, “You don’t even know me. You don’t have to… I’m just.” Sheena slapped her on the back and shakes her shoulder a little bit, “tickers are bullshit.” She says forcefully, “I wouldn’t wish a 0 on anyone, even not a shopaholic, brightly colored cute lady, ya know?”

“Oh,” Flores says gently, “that’s, that’s sweet. I suppose...I suppose it’s bad. When the VF goes...you know, goes.” “Yeah. Death is like,” she pokes her, “kinda bad.” She laughs warmly before leaning forward, she flinches, “I don’t suppose folding under crippling debt can be any better.”

Sheena follows her gaze thoughtfully up and away toward the skyline, “I’ll teach you how to get overly sized stupid scarves from thrift shops instead if that would help.” Flores snorts and then puts her head in her hands, “You know the most idiotic part?” Sheena studies her, “running around downtown for some stranger with bad habits?” She sniffs, “I went down to 13 ‘cause I thought I could buy my way into getting him to not fucking leave.” She almost shakes from something red in the other woman’s vision. She gives a hollow laugh, “none of it worked.”

Sheena looks away, she traces her eyes over the bumpy skyline, “Look,” She says slowly and puts her hand out, “this fucking place…” She meets her eyes, “it eats everyone up.”

“You’re telling me.” The lines on Flores face creased and fell. “But you made it all the way out here.” She leans toward her, “Made it this far.” Flores glances at her, she studies her hand like an intricate portrait, “yeah.” She takes her hand and they sit there for a very long moment, silently, waiting, watching.

“I remember you,” Sheena turns slowly as Flores speaks lowly, “I remember. The girl in black at the station, with the hat out. You weren’t playing though, yeah,” Flores smile was something faint and promising, the dawn. “It’s a shame.” They both look down and Sheena presses a knob on her watch, “here.” She starts the transaction as their skin graces each other. Flores mouth makes a perfect ‘o’ before Sheena touches her wrist softly, she closes her eyes and feels it, Kip makes the transfer.

Flores blinks a couple times from the contact transfer. “What…” She dives for her wallet, and Sheena looks away as the other woman sees the 17 on her counter now.

She hears another sharp gasp, “I don’t know what to say.” Sheena bites her lip, “everyone could use a break now and then.” She smiles down at her shoelaces, “I don’t mind being someone’s once or twice.”

“I think you overpaid me.” “N-” Before the word comes out of her mouth Sheena turns her head and finds a soft press to the side of her mouth, she gasps. She turned right into a slight kiss.

Another contact VL transfer, an electric pulse runs up her spine.

She pecks her on the side of the mouth, Sheena’s ticker goes up one more point. Her cheeks flare a particularly high tone of red and Flores face is equally rouge. “Thanks,” Flores squeezes her hand, “thank you so much.” Her eyes are wide and she feels something warm and fluttery rise in her gut, “you didn’t need to.” Flores smiles like the dawn again, wide and all-encompassing, “I know.” She bites her lip, “I wanted to. I didn’t mean, but I hope it wasn’t, I mean.” She was blushing again. “If it wasn’t-”

Sheena grabs her hand and lifts it up, “It’s a start.” She kisses the knuckles and Flores laughs as they lean into each other.

The breeze whips around them and they sit there for a very long moment with the promise of heavy clouds on the horizon.

Flores says she’s more than welcome to walk home with her under her umbrella.

#original writing #science fiction #original story #wlw #sapphic #lesbian story

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