#also yeah i do own that headset in blue and pink

[sinnabee]

concept: moon is an e-girl buy his bathwater now only $999.99 no refunds no returns no telling sun

he’s doing a meet n greet later where he gives good sleep habits tips aka he kills you <3

[obeymeoasis]

Demon Bros React: MC Gifts Them a Handmade Bracelet

Lucifer

“Luci, I made you something for fun but I’m not sure whether you’ll like it or not.”

He looked up from the stack of papers on his desk he was trying to get through. “As long as it’s not another bill like the one Mammon just racked up, I’m sure I’ll like whatever it is. Especially if it’s something you made.”

Blushing, you got up from your chair and quickly slipped the item onto Lucifer’s wrist.

He looked down to see a bracelet made out of elastic and chunky plastic beads. Among the red and black ones, the words “My Light” were spelled out.

“That’s just the way I feel about you sometimes. Whenever it seems like there’s nothing but darkness around me, you’re always there to guide me toward the light, toward better and happier times. You’ve saved me so many times.”

You looked at the bracelet on his wrist and suddenly felt self-conscious at how cheap it looked against the elegance of his RAD uniform. Lucifer seemed to be frozen in shock as well; he sat at his desk silent and unmoving.

“If...If you want I can take it back! Sorry, I just thought-”

Your sentence was interrupted by the full force of Lucifer crushing you into a hug. He tucked your head underneath his chin and he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“I love it. I love you. You make my every day brighter by being with me. I can’t express how much I care-” He cut himself off, feeling his throat tighten with sudden emotion.

You hugged him back just as tightly. “Love you always, my light.”

Mammon

You were cuddling together on the couch, watching a movie. Mammon had his arms around you, one hand holding yours and the other tracing patterns on your thigh.

With your free hand you reached into your pocket to pull out the bracelet you had made earlier in the day. Bright yellow smiley face beads surrounded the word "Priceless".

"What's that babe?"

"I made it for you! Sorry it's not super fancy or anything. But I saw these beads today at the craft store and they reminded me of you. You make me smile all the time because you're such a goober."

Mammon grinned and acted mock-offended. "Hey! Is that any way to treat your first man?"

You continued, "And also, you're priceless to me Mammon. You know that right? I wouldn't trade you for anything. Not even all the Grimm in the world. You make me feel so happy and loved."

You heard Mammon's sudden intake of breath. "Y-You really have no problem saying such embarrassing things, huh." His ears and cheeks were bright red.

You thought that was the end of the conversation but a few minutes later you heard Mammon whispering into your hair. "My treasure, I love ya so much. What did I ever do to deserve ya."

"You deserve to be happy Mammon, you deserve all the good in the world. Don’t let anyone ever tell you differently. I love you."

Leviathan

You were in his room, him playing a game and you putting the finishing touches on the bracelet you were making. Shiny blue beads with wave patterns on them surrounded the words “My Rock”. 

Quietly, so you wouldn’t interrupt his game, you placed the finished bracelet on his desk and moved to sit back down in your chair. Suddenly, his arm shot out to grab your wrist. He had paused his game and slid his headset slightly aside to ask: “MC, what is this?”

“Oh, I finished making this for you. Y-You don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it! But... I just wanted to give you a small present.”

Hand still holding your wrist, Levi wordlessly picked up the bracelet and examined it in the light. 

“Um... you know how my favorite animal is the otter? Well otters sometimes have a favorite rock that they keep in their pocket. And you’re my favorite, you know? Also you’re my rock because you keep me grounded a lot. Like when I get all anxious and stressed out you help calm me down. Whether it’s just cuddling or playing a game together, being with you is so peaceful.”

As you continued to ramble nervously, Levi’s cheeks began to grow redder and redder. “You really made this for me? This isn’t like a pity gift is it? Are you sure you want to give this to a-an otaku like me?”

You sighed and moved to wrap your arms around his neck. “Levi, you know I would never gift you something because I ‘pity you’. And also, I don’t understand what being an otaku has to do with anything. I’m giving you this because I love you, all parts of you.”

Levi looked at the bracelet for a moment longer before quickly slipping it onto his wrist. “I-I really like it. Thanks, MC.” He seemed to be gathering up his courage for something and letting out a deep breath he turned around to give you a quick kiss.

“S-Sorry! Sorry, I just... I’ve never received anything like this. I like you a lot, you know?”

You returned his kiss with one of your own. “I know.”

Satan

You had finished a light lunch together and now were browsing Satan’s favorite bookstore. He was looking at the history section while you were pretending to look at the bookmarks, gathering up your courage to give him his gift.

You were worried a bit that he wouldn’t like it. The bracelet itself was made out of inexpensive materials, emerald color beads and beads that spelled out “Beloved”. It didn’t seem like the type of thing Satan would wear.

He interrupted your thoughts with a tap on your shoulder. “Everything okay, MC?”

“Yeah, I was just...” With a sigh you held out the bracelet to him, there was really no point in stalling. “I made this for you. I understand if it’s not really your thing but just know the message is genuine.”

He pinched the bracelet between two fingers and began to examine it. "Beloved, huh?” His lips were quirked in a smug smile.

“Don’t tease me. But y-yeah, you’re my beloved. I never thought I’d meet someone like you here, you know? You feel like you fit right against my heart, like you’re my soulmate. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

All of the amusement was wiped off of Satan’s face and his eyes seemed to burn into you, the way he was staring at you. He deliberately rolled up the cuff of his RAD uniform slowly and made sure you were watching as he put on the bracelet, turning it this way and that to examine it. 

“It’s a good thing you don’t have to think about that, pet. Because trust me when I say that I’m never going to leave you. You’re stuck with me forever.”

With a wet laugh you rushed to hug him, burying your face into his chest. “That doesn’t sound bad to me at all.”

Asmodeus

You were in Asmo’s room, helping him paint his nails. His left hand was already finished and you watched him blow on the nails, trying to dry them. He held out his other hand for you and you pretended to fiddle with the nail polish before quickly slipping on the bracelet you had made for him earlier.

“MC, what is this?” Asmo looked at the bracelet, soft pink heart-shaped crystals surrounded beads that spelled out “Jewel Of My Heart”.

“Well, I know it’s nothing much compared to the jewelry you already have” you said, nodding toward Asmo’s vanity which held a variety of sparkling necklaces and earrings. “But I wanted to give you something handmade.”

“Oh, it’s so cute darling! I love it!” Asmo pulled out his cellphone and started trying to take pictures of his wrist from different angles. “Can you help me, MC? My nails are still a bit wet and I don’t want to ruin them. But I also want to post a picture to Devilgram immediately!”

You chuckled and took Asmo’s phone from him, trying to move his wrist to get it in frame. 

“I know you’re not the Jewel of the Heavens anymore. But I think of you as the jewel to my heart. You’re beautiful, Asmo. Not just the way you look but the way you’re able to find beauty in everything. Even in me, no matter how terrible I feel sometimes.”

Asmo had gone silent and you looked up to see him biting his lips, his eyes widened. “MC, that’s cheating. You can’t say things like that when I can’t even give you a proper hug right now. Ugh, you’re too adorable.”

Smiling, you held up his hand and pressed a gentle kiss against it. Asmo inhaled sharply.

“Darling, I think we can finish the other hand at a later time. Right now, there are other pressing matters I’d like to get to.” Asmo’s eyes had turned lustful and he quickly scooped you up and led you toward his bed.

Beelzebub

You were in the kitchen together, Beel helping you test a new pie recipe. Well, he was doing more eating than testing, letting out small whines until you gave in and fed him spoonfuls of fruit filling. 

It was warm and peaceful, the smell of sugar and vanilla in the air as you mixed a pot on the stove and Beel leaned against the countertop.

“Oh Beel, before I forget.” You reached into your pocket and pulled out a bracelet made up of small orange beads and plastic teddy bear-shaped beads. In the middle were the words “My Strength”.

You helped him slide it on his wrist and smiled at his confused look. “I made this for you today. I saw these beads and thought instantly of you, ‘cause I always call you my giant teddy bear.” For emphasis you gave him a hug and laughed at how small you felt in his arms.

“And also, I think of you as my strength. You’re super strong, yeah, but not just physically. You’ve always been there for me, whenever I felt down or scared or sad. You give me strength when I need it most. And I hope that I can lend you some of my strength too for whenever you need it.”

As Beel looked down at the bracelet, a slow smile spread across his face. “You’re cute, MC. Thank you for the gift. And you make me stronger every day by just being with me. I hope we can be together forever.”

You reached up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek and he returned it with a sudden passionate one on your lips.

The two of you stood kissing for a few moments longer until you broke away from him, smelling burning sugar. “Oh god, the filling is burning! Quick, turn off the stove!”

Beel looked into the pot, which had turned from a deep red cherry color to almost black, and shrugged. “Eh, I’ll still eat it.”

Belphegor

You don’t know how long you had been napping for, but you woke up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. You were warm and comfortable, one of Belphie’s legs wrapped around your own and his arm across your stomach. 

Looking down at his wrist you realized it was the perfect opportunity and slipped the bracelet out from your pajama pocket. The square lilac-colored beads looked cute against his wrist and you made sure the words “My Comfort” were facing the right way up so that Belphie would spot them when he woke up. 

You thought it would have been easy to give him his gift undetected, considering how much of a deep-sleeper he was, but at your movement Belphie scrunched up his nose and slowly opened his eyes.

“MC?” His voice was bleary from sleep. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing babe, go back to sleep.” He nodded and turned to face the other way but must have felt the beads pressing into his wrist. Confused he lifted his arm up and squinted at the bracelet. “What is this?”

You sighed, a bit nervous at how he would react. “I made it for you. It’s nothing fancy but I’ve been wanting to give you something for a while now. Something to remind you of me.”

He ran his fingers along the beads and mouthed the words “My Comfort”.

“That’s what you are to me. Comfort. When the world is too loud and my thoughts are too jumbled, you help make things quiet. You’re like a warm blanket that can muffle out the bad and the scary. I just hope that you’re as comfortable with me as I am with you.”

He remained silent for a while, rolling one of the beads between his fingers. Finally, he moved to bring your wrist to his mouth and pressed a light kiss on the inside of your wrist and then the center of your palm.

“I never thought I would get to have this, you know. A kind of love like this.” He rolled over so that you were face to face and tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t ever leave me, okay?”

[angryschnauzer]

He’s A Keeper

Summary: Working as an artist hired by Durrell Zoo, you spend your days sketching the day to day life of the animals and the keepers. One keeper in particular catches your eye.

Pairing: AU Zookeeper Henry Cavill x Female Reader (no race or size mentioned)

Fandom: Henry Cavill

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Friends to Lovers, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Fingering, Safe Sex/Use of Condoms, Realistic Sex/Relationship discussion, Vaginal Sex.

Typo’s are allowed to run wild and free, only the finest organic free range fuck ups for me.

I do not operate a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and hit ‘notifications’, you’ll get an alert every time i post something new. Back catalogue/masterlist can be found there and also on AO3

He’s A Keeper

Working the pencils over the sketchpad you quietly captured the beauty of the animals the zookeepers had nursed back to full health, the Ruffed Lemur currently hanging off the keepers arm as he spoke through the headset to the group of excited school children watching through the glass. 

You’d been hired by the zoo to capture day to day life at the zoo throughout the summer season, drawing the animals and the humans, however there was one particular human you had found yourself drawn to numerous times, and that was the rather tasty zookeeper by the name of Henry. He also had one of the sexiest voices you’d ever had the pleasure to listen to, so as he explained about the Lemur’s your mind wandered, as did your gaze;

“... originally from Madagascar, and have been part of Durrell zoo since 1982 where they have been essential to the breeding program…”

Your mind fell even further into the gutter at the word ‘breeding’, your eyes raking down Henry’s body, taking in how the branded t-shirt clung to his chest before tapering down to a narrow waist where it was neatly tucked into cargo pants that did little to hide how thick his thighs were and a pert arse you could bounce a satsuma off of. Biting the end of the pencil you had all but given up drawing, only realising that the talk was over when the group of school children were being herded onto the next exhibit by their tour guide and teachers.

When the kids had disappeared you finally got back to drawing, watching as Henry finished up feeding the Lemur’s before he met your gaze and smiled at you. Tapping your pencil on the glass he frowned and shook his head, before smiling and pointing to the sign in the corner of the window that said ‘do not tap the glass’, getting closer you tried to mouth your words to him, but was surprised when his eyes went wide in almost shock, before looking down and realising you had pressed your chest to the glass, your low cut cami top helping to accentuate your cleavage. When you looked up again he was gone and you let out a sigh of disappointment, before he appeared through a door to the side of the viewing area;

“Hi” he had a smile that could charm the panties off a nun; “Did you want me?”

“God yes…” Oh fuck, did you say that out loud?; “Sorry, i mean, you’ve dropped the foam bit off your headset...”

He glanced into the enclosure just at the moment one of the larger Lemur’s picked up the small round piece of foam and staring straight at Henry, proceeded to rip it into tiny pieces.

“Furry little fucker…” he cursed under his breath before turning back to you, but before he could say anything a group of other keepers came walking in and soon you were hanging onto the periphery of their conversation where they were discussing going for drinks after work. Moving to pack your stuff up as you presumed they weren’t including you, but a call of your nickname drew your attention;

“Hey Da Vinci, you up for a few beers after work?”

You hesitated to answer, glancing at Henry who had a smile across his face and a hopeful look in his eye;

“We’re all going…”

“Ok, yeah sure, that’d be great” you agreed. 

-

An hour later you were sitting on the wall outside the main entrance waiting for the rest of the keepers to finish their shifts, smiling as you saw them coming out of the doors, and the ensuing 10 minutes that followed as people sorted out who was driving and how many people could fit into just a couple of small cars. As spaces were allocated Henry laughed and shook his head;

“I am NOT riding five up in a Renault Clio, i’m too tall, i’ll have to fold myself in half! Where are we going anyway, i can take my bike and just walk home after”

Waiting as everyone discussed location and finished off seat allocation, they’d finally decided when Henry turned to you;

“Hey, i think the last seats are in the stoner wagon…”

“Oh…” you didn’t have anything against anyone smoking pot, but didn’t fancy being in a car you could barely see out of the windows of.

“But you can ride with me on my bike?”

Looking to where Henry was pointing, you saw a fairly large trails bike, the kind that could go 50mph over rough land and through forests;

“I… I don’t have a helmet…”

“Wait here, let me run into the locker room and grab the spare i keep here”

Everyone else pulled away as Henry ran into the zoo, and you glanced at the bike. You’d never been on a motorbike before, so this would be a first. Stowing everything loose in your backpack, you hooked it over both shoulders just as Henry reemerged from the building, swinging his keys from one finger as he came to stand in front of you;

“Hey, thanks for waiting”

“No worries! So, where are we going again?”

“The pub in Rozel does good food and pulls a great pint” he nodded to his left and you saw a row of motorbikes; “You ever ridden?”

Shaking your head you laughed; “No, never”

He carefully helped you put the helmet on, his nimble fingers helping to secure the strap beneath your chin before putting his own on and climbing onto the bike, pushing it off the kick stand and nodding for you to climb on. You tried to sit back, but he wrapped his arm behind his back and pulled you flush to his body;

“Gotta hold on tight, otherwise you’ll throw the balance off. Lean when i lean and just squeeze a bit harder if you’re scared, the ride won’t take long” he shouted over the thrum of the noisy engine idling.

The ride down to the small village of Rozel had been exhilarating, from the vibration of the motorbike between your legs to the way you were able to wrap your arms around Henry’s waist and cling to him as he hurtled around the country roads at what seemed like warp speed, when in fact it was little more than 30mph. By the time you arrived in the small fishing cove your heart was racing and you actually let out a reluctant moan at the thought of removing your arms from around Henry’s waist.

“C’mon” he grinned as he helped you off the bike; “I’ll buy you a vodka and coke to calm your nerves”

“It wasn’t nerves” you muttered to yourself, smirking as you know he heard you.

-

The group had managed to find a cluster of small tables chairs and benches in the corner of the pub beer garden, and as the sun had set behind the hills to the rear of the pub, the cold Atlantic sea had glowed in pale blues and pinks. You were squashed into a bench with Henry on one side and another enormous hulk of a keeper on the other, and as the temperature had dropped you’d found yourself thankful that Henry had casually rested his arm behind you so you could leech some of his warmth, but it didn’t stop a violent shiver involuntarily running up your spine.

“Cold?” Henry asked quietly, before gently wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close; “Any better?”

You nodded and let out a very quiet whine as you smiled at him, completely surrounded by his scent and warmth. It made your stomach do a flip and you clenched your thighs together, something that didn’t get past Henry as your leg twitched against his thigh. Before either of you could say anything an enormous bowl of cheesy fries was set down between you, your stomach growling at the aroma’s that wafted around you as it turned out someone had ordered sharing bowls for the whole table.

With the meal mostly devoured as you’d sat side by side on a small wooden bench in the pub garden, laughing as you fed each other and strings of cheese hung from your fingers. As the giggles of a joke faded away you glanced at Henry’s almost finished pint;

“Hey, you aren’t planning on riding that bike home are you?”

“Nah, i’d never drive after a pint, let alone three… my place is just behind The Navigator restaurant…” he paused; “Oh god, where are you staying, do i need to call you a taxi?”

“No no, i’m renting a studio up the hill, on the hairpin bend”

“Oh…” 

It wasn’t a bad ‘oh’ and there was definitely something loaded in the subtext, so when people had started to leave and arrange ride’s back to St Helier and St Johns it felt natural for Henry to stand with his arm around your shoulders as you both waved everyone off.

“Can i walk you home?” he asked, his voice low and full of promise, and you nodded as he slid his hand into yours, leading you along the low coast road that skirted the harbour.

-

You hadn’t gotten far before the evening turned even better, a brief suggestion of a walk along the beach as the tide was out soon had your feet in soft sand as you were pressed to the weathered stone of the sea wall, Henry’s lips on your neck as your fingers dug into his back, his teeth nipping and biting at whatever exposed flesh he could find. You hadn’t even realised he was going lower until he was on his knees in front of you, those sea blue irises staring up at you as he pressed kisses to your legs where your shorts ended. His fingers softly rested on the button and he finally spoke, his voice low and thick with lust;

“May i?”

Nodding fervently you bit your lip as you watched him slowly unbutton you, pulling the garment down your legs until you were able to step out. Never breaking eye contact he lifted your leg and gently rested it on his shoulder, pressing open mouthed kisses up your inner thigh until his face was pressed against your panties and his wide tongue worked against the soaked cotton and lace. His finger crooked beneath them and tugged the scrap of fabric to the side, seeking out your clit before tracing down to your cunt and tenderly teasing the entrance.

“Henry… please…” you whined, desperate for more

“Don’t you worry, i’m gonna make you see stars…”

Pushing his head forwards his lips caught your clit as he slowly slid two fingers into your soaked channel. You let out a long groan at the feel of his lips and fingers finding the right spot immediately, his other hand cupping the back of your thigh before he ran it around your hip and caught your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he quickly drove you closer and closer to the edge with that added touch of intimacy. Suddenly he hummed against your clit and the world exploded, making you cum so hard you truly did see stars as a white heat bloomed in your belly and you rode Henry’s fingers until you were spent.

As you rested against the wall behind you he carefully withdrew his fingers, licking them clean as he tugged your shorts up your legs. You couldn’t help but to notice the obscene bulge in the front of his cargo pants, your hand rubbing over the smooth curve of it;

“You keep doing that and i’ll cum in my boxers… “ he panted out, his lips inches from yours; “What’s your room like?”

“Its a little summer cabin studio right at the end of the garden, away from the other holiday rentals and the main house… what about you…”

“Shared flat with two other guys from the zoo. They’re probably drinking in the lounge right now… so, your place?”

-

Unlocking the door you stepped inside and turned on a small lamp, standing aside so Henry could come into your small summer living space.

“Mmm nice” he nodded and looked around; “Wanna give me the tour?”

You snorted out a laugh at the formality, and held your arm out;

“Well this is the kitchen area, right next door we have the smallest shower room in Jersey, and here’s the bed” you didn’t need to take a single step for the ‘tour’, the room seeming even smaller as Henry took a single stride and wrapped his arm around your back, pulling you flush with his chest. Never breaking eye contact he gently trailed a single finger over your cheek, his thumb brushing your plump bottom lip;

“Are you going to be good for me?”

Your legs almost buckled at the deep baritone of his voice, igniting something within you that you hadn’t even known existed, eagerly nodding;

“Yes Sir”

Lowering his lips to yours he kissed you, his tongue pushing past your lips as he took control, walking the pair of you back until your legs hit the bed and you fell back onto the soft unmade covers. Covering your body with his, he quickly stripped you of your clothing, his mouth trailing behind his hands so every inch of you was gifted with a kiss. 

Standing between your legs he pulled his t-shirt over his head and you couldn’t help but to moan at the sight of his body; toned and just the right amount of hair on his chest and a treasure trail on his abdomen that surely led to untold riches. Quickly sitting up your hands joined his on his button to his cargo pants;

“May i?”

Henry released his hands and nodded, watching as you carefully plucked the button before lowering the zipper painfully slowly, his boxers tented obscenely and you couldn’t help but to cup him in your palm, the searing heat of his engorged cock a welcome feel in your hands, the wide mushroom head clearly visible through the stretched fabric. Unceremoniously tugging the rest of his clothing down, you felt yourself getting wetter as his beautiful cock was finally revealed; big, thick and uncut, you had to taste him and quickly ducked your head forwards, swallowing his head between your lips as his hands flew to your hair to steady himself.

Now it was your turn to drive him crazy with your mouth, taking him as deep as you could even though it was barely half of his length, you wrapped both hands around what was left, the thick root of his shaft filling both palms. A few more pumps and he pulled his hips back with a gasp, a trail of spittle hanging from your lips to his bulbous tip;

“If you keep doing that i’m gonna cum far too soon…” he said, his voice shaking; “Lay back and let me treat you right…”

Scooting up the bed you settled against the pillows as you watched Henry shed himself of the rest of his clothing, his boots and socks hooked off, cargo pants and underwear all left in a messy pile at the side of the bed, before he crawled up the mattress like a Panther stalking its prey.

Capturing your lips for another searing kiss, you felt his hot shaft against your belly, burning against your skin and you so desperately wanted to feel him inside you. Pulling away just slightly you were already breathless;

“Just a second…” reaching for the small drawer at side of the bed you pulled out an unopened box of condoms, Henry sitting back on his knees as you ripped the box’s cellophane open with your teeth and pulled out a small foil packet, tearing it open before smoothing the latex over Henry’s shaft. Looking up to his face he wore a rather sheepish smile;

“Sorry, shoulda’ thought of that”

“S’ok, a girl’s gotta keep sharp these days…”

“Right…” he met your gaze; “But you know, if you had gotten pregnant, i would have stood by you”

“Umm thanks? But its for STD’s. I’m on the pill”

“Oh… good thinking…”

A tense pause hung over the pair of you, before you reached up and rested your hand on his chest;

“Shall we continue?”

At your words the tension in the room suddenly dissipated, Henry kissing you as he slid a hand between your bodies so he could position himself at your entrance, groaning as he pushed in slowly breaching your body. Your tight channel hugged him tight, unfamiliar with such a size splitting your walls so he paused, pressing light kisses to your face as your body grew accustomed with his size and the heavy weight of his dick in your pillowy soft embrace. Finally you moaned out his name;

“Henry… please…”

“What do you need?”

“Move… please move. Fuck me, please”

Pushing up on his forearms he started to fluidly move his hips, slow and steady, each thrust was gentle but firm, your body yielding to him as he started to increase the pace, the sound of hot bodies meeting filling the small wooden cabin as the gentle sounds of the sea not far away filled the rest of the night. Soft moans spilled from your lips at the feel of his body playing yours like a delicate instrument, waiting for the chorus and the inevitable crescendo. But he was going to play the entire symphony first, knowing how to get you to sing the high notes as the thrum of your bodies were in tune with each other completely.

With the stretch of his girth and the way the curve of it meant he was able to find your g-spot with every thrust you were fast approaching your orgasm, your body trembling as your lips found a life of their own;

“Henry… please, so good… keep doing that… oh god, i’m gonna cum…”

“That’s it, my good girl, cum on my cock, let me feel you squeezing me so tight… feel so amazing right now… that’s it, you can do it…”

With a cry you came, your legs wrapped around his waist as you pulled him deep whilst your body shook with a fierce orgasm, triggering his own as he pumped a heavy load into the condom.

Finally spent, Henry settled on top of you, his weight a heavy comfort as your sweaty bodies lay skin to skin, the gentle roughness of his chest hair against your naked breasts a tender reminder of his virility. When he started to soften he finally shifted, holding the condom at the base as he pulled out and staggered the few steps to your small bathroom;

“I’ll be back in a second, gotta sort this out…”

The door closed and you shifted on the bed, pulling the duvet back and sliding between the sheets, listening as you heard the tell tale sound of a man urinating and the high pitched, double barrelled squeak of a fart. The flush of the toilet and water running soon after meant you knew the second he would reappear, a flannel in his hand and he stopped dead, his cheeks suddenly bright crimson;

“You heard that didn’t you?”

“It's a small wooden cabin… yes i did”

“Sorry” he approached the bed and with a warm flannel he carefully cleaned between your thighs, pressing a kiss to your lips as he did. When finished he sat on the side of the bed; “Can i stay the night, or did you want me to go?”

“Have you got work tomorrow?”

“Nope. You?”

“Nope. Please, stay”

He quickly threw the flannel into the sink in the bathroom, before with a giggle climbed under the duvet and pulled you into his arms;

“So, how many more condom’s you got?”

-

The morning light broke softly through the trees that surrounded your cabin, your body sore but sated, knowing every bruise and ache came from soft lips, sharp teeth, or skilled fingers, apart from that one ache deep inside that you knew exactly what had caused that delicious soreness, and the owner and cause of all of it still softly slept in your bed. Climbing out you quickly used the bathroom, and as you came back into the room the artist in you couldn’t help but to admire how the dappled morning light cascaded over Henry’s body. Slipping his work t-shirt over your head you pulled your sketchbook from your backpack and settled onto the only chair in the room, quietly working carbon to paper.

Henry woke 45 minutes later, the gentle scratching of your art making him squint at the bright daylight, before laying back on the pillows with his arms spread;

“Still life class?”

Setting your sketchbook down you padded across the room and climbed onto the bed;

“Sorry, i couldn’t help myself… the way the sun was hitting the muscles of your back and shoulders, you were like an anatomy masterpiece”

With a laugh and moving much quicker than you thought he was possible of, he grabbed you by the waist and turned you, his body atop of yours;

“Well that’s enough of that, i would like to become better acquainted with your anatomy… and as we’ve both got the day off i suggest we make the most of it”

Laughing you fell into his embrace, sighing with happiness. Henry really was a keeper, as you were for sure not going to let him go. 

[readinginthereadyroom]

let’s talk about eddie diaz and technology for a minute. 

we’ve seen him become a bit of a technophobe in s4. paranoid that hildy’s watching and targeted marketing him after they have a call to a smarthome in future tense (911 4x03). 

resulting in eddie forcing christopher and buck to take some time away from screens. unplugging the gaming console and rounding up all the remotes. and them retaliating by pranking him with a new coffee machine. 

and here’s the really interesting thing about that. this character trait is only introduced after eddie meets abby during the train derailment in what’s next? (911 3x18). 

this is important because buck’s relationship with abby in s1 was always done via technology. they first “meet” over a 911 call. abby with a headset at her desk surrounded by screens. she then sees buck on the news and decides to call him. the whole first act of their relationship is over the phone. even their first time together. 

and it’s only when buck becomes a physical mainstay in abby’s life. when he sorta moves in after her mother passes. that she truly balks at their relationship. and puts a literal continent of distance between them. 

because hiding behind technology. using that barrier. has allowed her to keep from truly emotionally investing in their relationship. a metaphorical arms-length.

we even see it in the costume design for abby. she has a work pair of glasses and a life pair of glasses. a brown tortoiseshell pair and a pink crystal pair. and they’re always reflecting blue lights. and not only at work. it’s as if she’s always one step away from a screen. just slightly removed from reality. 

she wears her tortoiseshell frames outside of work once. on the hot air balloon date with buck. which gets interrupted. and is the first real bump in their relationship. 

contrast all of that with eddie. he’s so tactile. a clasp on your shoulder, gestures with his hands, pats on the back, and thumping hugs kinda guy. and with christopher he’s a steadying hand, a spinning hug, an arm to carry, and a kiss to the hair kinda father. 

so he’s immediately a physical presence in buck’s life. I mean he’s introduced practically topless. and their first conversation is in the gym about calendar thirst traps. within weeks their already bumping shoulders when they walk, sitting side-by-side at the dinner table, and leaning into each other against the firetruck.

plus their whole job requires them to be in each’s space. passing tools and medical equiptment. being physically connected by ropes and harness and pulleys and winches. they have each others backs. 

so really it’s no surprise that they end up so entwined outside of work too. and not just buck and eddie. but buck and christopher. besides eddie, only buck ever carries christopher. or gets down on his level to talk or recieve a hug. cradles his head and rubs his thumb against his temple. 

plus christopher is very much his father’s son. he’s equally as tactile. taps buck’s jaw just like he does eddie’s. does his walk-into-your-space-and-lean-against-you-while-using-his-crutches version of a hug. laughs with his whole body. likes to draw and give cards.

and yeah, they spend a lot of time playing video games or watching movies. activities that involve screens. but they do that together. all piled onto the couch. bouncing up and down. high-fiving and dog-piling on each other. it’s the opposite of detached and remote.

they’re constantly in each other’s space and homes. this is eddie’s house. I’m not really a guest. 

and we rarely see them talk on the phone. or text. they prefer to send pictures. and there are plenty of examples of off-screen conversations. usually when the other isn’t physically present. because even when they are apart they are connected. filling up the absences with reminders. 

not to mention when they are forced to be apart. how they both, separately, hit rock bottom during the divorce lawsuit arc. which stemmed from a bodily injury for buck and manifested as cage fighting for eddie. 

how eddie couldn’t initially go to buck when he was pinned under the ladder truck. how buck clawed at the mud when eddie was trapped in the well. how they held each other’s hands for comfort each time. 

and later. how their trauma will be shared during the sniper. how they are shown phyically separated but also connected by eyeline and eddie’s blood spray. eddie’s hand hitch as if he’s trying to reach out to buck. buck being forced to pull eddie’s injured to get him to safety. buck bodily throwing eddie into the firetruck and then cradling his head in lieu of a c collar. 

and it’s why. when abby does show up in buck’s life again. she clutches her phone in her hands. holds it between her and buck while eddie stands by buck’s side. she still needs that remove from buck. a barrier of impersonal technology. 

and why when she meets with buck later. she wears a new set of tortoiseshell frames. presumably her work glasses. because she’s not there to apologize for leaving him behind. for dodging his calls and forcing him to keep track of her travels via instagram. and she knows it. knows she was in the wrong. but not able to own up to it. to be honest with him. so she hides behind the work persona. the detached voice behind the blue screens reflected in the dark glasses.

so really. does it surprise anyone that they make eddie wary of smart technology? turn him into a bit of a 20th century luddite to more fully emphasize the difference in his relationship with buck. as compared to abby’s.

because even without the technology he and buck and chris still have a games night. I think we're gonna be playing it old school for a while. they probably break out the board games and crowd around the coffee table. still up in each other’s spaces. laughing and bouncing in glee.

tactile and affectionate and not a screen in sight. 

[remmushound]

Beyond the Bay chapter 1: Omen in the Lights

Authors note: I know I said this was only going to be posted on A03, but I have decided against that and made the choice to expand it to my regular postings on Tumblr; there will be three posts a week; Monday, Wednesday, Friday.

It was late September, the heat of summer waning to give way to the autumn chill that had started to sweep its way through the city. The first snowfall had yet to arrive, but with the cold settling over New York, it wouldn’t be long before the city was blanketed in white. The moon reached its peak in the night sky and was beginning its downward descent into the west; if anyone had been looking up at that moment, they would have seen something miraculous. A falling star, illuminated brightly in the inky purple sky. Falling to earth on a mission from the stars and crashing into the Hudson river, sinking below the surface, a blinking white light pulsating all the way down

~~~

Deep in the undersewers of New York, in the old tunnels that even the most experience sewer workers didn't dare to enter, was a world forgotten by all but the rats and the creatures unseen. The steady drip drip drip of distant, decaying pipes were to this world like bird calls were to the surface. A constant, steady drumming that ceased not night nor day. Sometimes, the soothing drips would be jarred by the rumble of something old, far beyond its best days, giving a groaning complaint of its age. Rarer still would be a crash that told of one of those ancient structures living its last moments before succumbing to the fate of collapse.

Other than that was the pitter-patter of tiny rodent feet as rats, this worlds most plentiful residents, went about their days searching for scraps on which to feast upon. Sometimes they’d come in swarms, all seeking to indulge in the same noxious smell that invaded their senses. Other times they came alone. But they were always there, mostly unseen, some were bolder than others. 

This day there was a noise other than the drip and scuttle and groan of everyday sewer life. There was the sound of motion, the steady echo of rubber bouncing off stone. The powerful strike of muscle against muscle, shell against shell. The sound of the biggest creatures to call the undersewers home, crashing against each other as they all fought over the basketball. Leo and Mikey vs Donnie and Raph.

The game went on for hours. Longer than any human game. Longer than any crash of giants on any continent. It went on for nearly eight hours before the self-set timer ran out and named Leo and Mikey the winners. The win, of course, was taken with very little modesty by the youngest brother. Leo was glad that, in his twenty-two official years of life, he had learned to tune out the incessant bickering of his two youngest brothers as Mikey boasted of his glory and Raph simmered in his defeat.

Still, even someone with as much patience as Leo Splinterson could only let the bickering go so far until he decided to intervene.

“Okay, okay, you both did well.” Leo got between his brothers, pushing Raph back just slightly. Mikey was more than happy to start hanging over Leo’s shoulders, still running that motormouth of his.

“Don’t feel bad, Raphie!” Mikey put extra emphasis on the childish nickname, “You may be a foot taller, but I gots an extra foot in the game brother!”

“Extra foot in the— that don’t even make sense!” Raph almost snarled.

“You don’t make sense!”

“That don’t make sense either!”

“Cool it.” Leo said finally, “The game was a good warm up for tonight's patrol.”

Those few words made the three younger Splinterson brothers melt into groans.

“What?” Donnie complained.

“No way!” Mikey groaned.

“Seriously?” Raph threw his arms out and then slapped them back down against his thighs.

“What?” Leo said, and then again louder, “What? We go on patrol every night!”

“But Leo, it’s our mutation day!” Donnie groaned. “And we’re exhausted! Plus, April made us that cake—“

“Which we can pick up after patrol.” Leo said simply. 

“But what about dad?” Donnie frowned. “You know he likes us to spend our mutation day together.”

“It’s just three hours.” Leo said. “We’re ninja first, always. You know that. Dad will understand.”

Leo turned to leave, the frustrated mutterings of ‘no fair’ and ‘just had to ruin a good thing’ falling on his deaf ears. He didn't turn around; he already knew his brothers were following him, no matter how they dragged their feet or complained. This was their duty, mutation day or not. He couldn’t stand the thought of missing even the smallest occurrence that could cost them greatly in the long run. Shredder hadn’t been seen since Krang’s very temporary control over the city, but that didn't mean the Foot Clan wasn’t still active and preparing to strike. They had to be ready.

The patrol went by with little difficulty. Everything they saw were the same, normal things they’d seen in the weeks before. Men and women stumbling drunkenly home after a night out; the brothers, of course, would follow the latter to ensure she got home without trouble before going on with the patrol. Other than the women they escorted home, they also witnessed the average amount of drug deals taking place and teens sneaking out of their bedroom windows, and homeless trying to keep warm as they prepared for another long, hard winter; Donnie made sure to slip every single one of them a twenty. Whether they would use it for drugs or food was up to their discretion. Donnie didn't care either way. Who was he to judge?

Raph’s whistle stopped the brothers. Two sets of blue eyes and one set of green turned to him as the team fell to still silhouettes. Raph jerked his head toward an alleyway across the street, and four silent shadows passed over the lamp-lit road. Leo’s eyes scanned the area in its entirety searching for anything that could tell of trouble. Anything out of order. He heard three sets of breaths, not counting his own. No voices. No scuffling that didn't come from his brothers. Still he took in all the tiny details that tied together like an intricate spider web. 

Down in the alley, he saw, was a woman, her hair grayed and wearing a sleeping gown. There were no shoes on her feet and no caregiver in sight, and every step of the elder was slow and shaky. Her voice came through the alley in a language he couldn’t understand, so he turned to Donnie for further confirmation of what he was sure he already knew. Donnie listened to the words carefully.

“Guys, I think she’s lost.” Donnie said, flicking his goggles down over his glasses, “Her vitals are stable, but its freezing.”

“What’s she saying?” Leo asked.

“Uh… she’s asking for help.” Donnie said. 

“Should we go down there?” Mikey asked innocently, looking up to Raph.

“What, and scare her outta her skin?”  Raph asked, showing his canines.

“We can’t just leave her!”

“We ain’t gonna, doofus!”

“Donnie—“ Leo started.

Donnie held up his finger for silence as he started to pace the length of the rooftop, speaking into his headset. “Hi, yes, this is Donatello. You know, giant turtle, four eyes. There’s this old lady here…” He went on to relay their location and explain the situation further. His conversation with the authorities lasted only a few minutes before he ended the call. “Police are on their way.”

Leo nodded. His eyes had never left the alley or the wandering lady as she continued to call out. They stayed there waiting, watching her until the police arrived and even after that, making sure the old lady was safe in the police car being driven home. Only then, sure of the lost woman’s safety, did they continue with their patrol. They didn't get very far however before Mikey stopped and gawked at something.

“Woah!”

“What is it?” Leo asked. He followed Mikey’s gaze into the night sky and felt his jaw drop. 


Donnie looked up next, and then Raph; the former took a long, wheezing gasp while the latter remained silent in his awe.

“What in the fabric of time is that?” Donnie asked.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!” Mikey beamed, “And I’ve seen April!”

“Glad we came out now, aren’t ya?” Leo smirked, elbowing Mikey in the side.

“Yeah…” Was all Raph was able to say.

It was like all the painters in the world had gotten together, pallets in hand, to pain the sky in streaks of gold and pink and cerulean. Colors bright and bold, melting into each other like a mixing bowl of everything beautiful in the world. A field of flowers woven into the heavens. The lights over the sky rivaled the brightness of the city itself, and in beauty, New York could never compare.

After their night of patrol and a quick stop at April’s to indulge in delicious, homemade cake, the brothers returned to the lair. Long strides carried Donnie past his father, Splinter’s words of welcome met with a mutter and quick departure. The rat only laughed and shook his head, for of course the first thing his second oldest would want to do after a night of work was to head immediately to his lab for more work. After all, when Donnie’s thoughts hardly let him sleep, it was always good to get some extra studying in. He had to keep up to date with all the latest news, even if it had only been a few hours since he had last checked. Raph stayed around just long enough to give his father a half-hearted hug before hurrying off to his room, and Mikey jumped over the old rat like he were an obstacle on the way to the kitchen. Leo was the only one to return Splinter’s welcome home greeting with a greeting of his own, immediately sitting lotus-style before his master to give a report on the night's events.

Pulling up articles to scan for anything interesting, Donnie was immediately flooded with several dozen headlines on the same subject: the beautiful light-show currently swallowing the New York City sky. Some of them were calling the lights a second Aurora Borealis, while other papers said that rockets or satellites were to blame. In fact, most every paper had a different story! A different theory of origin for the sudden glow. When the turtles had witnessed it on their patrol, it had taken such a long time for them to pry their eyes away from the beautiful canvas; even Leo had fallen victim to the painting in the sky! Along with the headlines, Donnie pulled up an influx of videos and pictures documenting the strange occurrence from all angles of the city, some even joined with reports of a meteor crashing into the harbor. Donnie had seen no meteor, but that didn't mean there wasn’t one!

“Hey.” Mikey, as air-headed as he could be, never failed to somehow always sneak up without Donnie hearing him. The box turtle leaned his full weight on his brother's chair, shoving handfuls of Cheetos into his mouth and crunching loudly in Donnie’s ear. Crumbs fell from his open maw as he chewed enthusiastically. “S’mething cool happen?”

Donnie growled and yanked his chair out from under Mikey, snickering as the youngest brother was just barely able to catch and right himself. 

“You know there is Mikey; we saw it!” Donnie said, scooting his chair back in while dusting it free of crumbs. “Every article here is talking about those lights we saw! No one knows what they are!”

“They’re cool is what they are.” Mikey said, nodding his head and swallowing his mouthful before saying, “Do they have a cool name yet? Bet they have a cool name.” He pointed at the screen with his pinkie finger as he cracked open an orange energy drink and started to chug it.

“Everyone’s calling it something different.” Donnie reported, “But whatever they end up calling it, it’s beautiful. Something like this is a once in a life time experience!”

“Isn’t everything in our lives?” Mikey asked, followed by a burp.

“I guess.” Donnie snickered, “But there’s no telling if these lights will be there tomorrow night! I… I really wish I’d documented it, but I was just… too busy thinking of all the possibilities!”

“I know what that’s like.” Mikey nodded.

“It could be a solar event, or a chemical reaction, or a whole new phenomenon—” Donnie whined as his fingers worked quickly to pull up the most recent reports. “According to these, the lights are still there… and it’s just barely four-thirty.” He pressed his lips tightly together and tapped a pattern on his desk, “M...maybe if we hustle, we could still get some decent pictures before day breaks.”

Mikey nodded and smiled. “We totally could, dude.”

“Yes!” Donnie stood up, rushing past Mikey and started to reassemble his gear, pulling cameras and recordings and notepads— he brought three, just in case— and his goggles too. He could never leave home without his goggles! “We could and we are!”

He grabbed his good camera, a big bulk of a thing the size of his head, and pushed his way past Mikey.

“Are we going somewhere?” Mikey asked.

~~~

They were cutting it close. Very close. But Donnie couldn't pass up the opportunity to get at least a few decent pictures. The ones already posted to the internet by awed humans were one thing, but to get the pictures on his own, from the vantage of the highest buildings, was something else entirely. Donnie could only hope that the solar event would take well to the filters of his camera.

“Just a few more pictures.” Donnie promised Mikey as he set up his camera for another great angle. “Then we can head home.”

“Okay.” Mikey’s response was automatic, the words little more than jargon to the younger brother. No doubt Donnie thought the other turtle bored out of his mind, but it was the exact opposite really. Mikey was so focused on the lights in the sky that his mind wouldn’t let him think of anything else. 

They were so beautiful, flashing and blipping in and out of reality with a mind of their own! Mikey rubbed his eyes. He wanted the lights to stay but they kept leaving. He was desperate to reach a hand out, believing he could touch them the little blips he tried, but his arm refused to listen.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Donnie asked. He snapped another picture of the lights, glad they hadn’t left yet; even with the brightening sky they were just as vibrant and visible as ever. Mikey didn't respond, but that went unnoticed by Donnie being too focused on his current task. “Wonder what it looks like from space!”

Mikey laughed. He laughed but he felt tears on his cheeks. The shinobi whined and lifted his left hand to rub his opposite arm as he felt goosebumps start to dance up the length of his body; at least the left one still listened, he figured, unlike the right one that was like dead weight. But the lights were too beautiful to care, and they were getting brighter too! Closer it seemed. Mikey forgot about his goosebumps as he reached up to touch the colors that started to dance all around him. They felt solid and hot, like burning metal— like he was touching the same stars that started to dance in his head!

Mikey’s lack of response was finally noticed by Donnie. The mutant peeked up from his work to glance at Mikey, groaning with the belief that the turtle had wandered off after a cat or another pizza pigeon. The belief was unfounded and replaced with confusion when he found his younger brother still there, right where he had been when Donnie last checked, still staring. His eyes seemed glassy and that made Donnie tilt his head. The technician’s eyes trailed downward to Mikey’s arm, which looked uncomfortably stiff, muscles bulging and veins defined as if he were under great strain.

“Mikey?” Donnie asked, setting his camera down to take a step closer to his brother. “Are you alright?”

Mikey smacked his lips together as pure heat flooded his mouth, like he had just swallowed a handful of peppers. Shadows were around him, speaking words he couldn’t hear, but they were so familiar to him that he tried to respond.

“Fer… repub… not… don’t like....” Mikey tried. His words came out wrong— that wasn’t what he wanted to say! He tried it again. “Great...er...ggg…”

“Mikey!” Donnie ran forward, wrapping strong arms around the ninja’s shell when Mikey began to slump forward, almost enough to fall off the edge he was standing on. Donnie yanked him back, pulling Mikey to fall back onto the roof instead; Donnie’s body worked to soften the fall for the other turtle as they both went down, the older cradling the younger.

The lights were still there, still overhead, and still blinking their toxic song.

[maybeimamuppet]

the rainbow in you

Janis can see sounds. Every sound she’s heard since she was a child has sent a rush of color flooding through her vision. She thought it was normal until she was five.

—————

Janis is sitting in her car seat, on a road trip to Ohio to see her family. She’s especially excited to see her cousin, Veronica. They’re best friends, roughly the same age and so similar in appearance that they often get mistaken for twins. Janis has always been confused when they get mixed up for one another, because Veronica is blue, and Janis is green.

“Mama, can you play the pink song?” She pipes up, kicking her little feet back and forth.

“This one?” Her mother asks, turning on a song by the artist.

“No, the pink one, Mama! The one that sounds pink,” She huffs. Silly Mama. That song is orange.

“Sounds pink? How does it go?” Her mom asks, looking at her oddly in the rear view mirror.

“Um, like... do do do do doooo.” Janis sings a bit of the tune that she can remember. She doesn’t know the words yet.

“Beauty and the Beast?” Her mom asks, switching to the Disney CD.

“Yeah, yeah!” Janis says excitedly, picking up another crayon to get back to her coloring book.

“How is this song pink, baby girl?” Her mom asks curiously.

“You don’t hear the colors?” Janis asks shyly, as if she’s made a mistake and is getting in trouble.

“You’re not in trouble, honey, I’m just wondering. Do you see pink when you hear this?” Her mama asks, pulling into a rest stop parking lot and climbing back to sit next to Janis.

“Uhhuh. Like the ‘mingos at the zoo, not my ballet stuff,” Janis answers, unbuckling her belt and crawling onto her mother’s lap. “Mama, am I broken?”

“No, baby girl,” Mama says sadly, cupping Janis��� chin and looking into her eyes. “You’re my perfect, special, beautiful girl. Not everyone can do this. You kind of have a superpower!”

Janis likes that idea. Maybe she’ll grow up to be like Wonder Woman. She’ll have to figure out a way for hearing colors to save lives, first. Maybe once she turns six that’ll come to her.

“So is it only this song that has a color, or does everything you hear have something?” Her mama asks, tickling her belly to make her smile.

“I think everything. You’re yellow,” Janis says, grinning at her with her missing front teeth, recently forcibly removed by her friend Dana in a tap dancing accident.

“Yellow? Hm,” Mama hums, flooding Janis’ vision with shades of lemon. “I’ve always liked yellow.”

-

At Janis’ six year old checkup, her mama asks her doctor about the colors. This doctor paints the world with brown. Janis doesn’t like him, but she always gets a sticker when she finishes getting poked at.

Mama and the doctor talk for a long time about the colors, Janis reading a Doctor Seuss book on the paper covered table. The way it crinkles makes her see blue.

The doctor doesn’t know what the colors could mean, telling them to talk to Janis’ therapist, Miss Megan about it. The doctor says that since it’s in her brain, Miss Megan might know more about it than he could.

-

Janis likes Miss Megan. Mama started taking her to see Miss Megan after her daddy died. All she has to do is answer questions and talk about her feelings. It’s easy stuff.

Miss Megan asks a lot of the same questions her mama did. That’s not quite so easy.

Does every sound have a color, are the colors different for every sound, boring grownup questions like that. Janis finds it much more interesting when Miss Megan asks about specific sounds. Janis tells her that she is purple, Mama is yellow, her best friend Regina is pink, and her other best friend Dana is blue.

Miss Megan tells them that they have to go see another special kind of doctor to take pictures of Janis’ brain. Miss Megan thinks she has something called chromesthesia (Mama spent a long time teaching her to say it), and the special doctor will make sure.

Janis takes her mama’s hand as the go to the car, balancing on the curb like a beam. “Mama, I don’t want to go to the special doctor, I want my brain to stay in.”

Mama laughs at that, confusing Janis. “Oh, baby girl, you crack me up. They’re not going to take your brain out, honey. They have a special machine that can see through your head and take pictures of your brain that way. It’s called an MRI.” She explains.

“Oh. Will the IRM hurt?” Janis asks, buckling herself into her new booster seat.

“No, baby girl. It might be a little scary, but nothing will hurt.” Mama says definitively.

Janis is comforted by this. She can do scary stuff, but she doesn’t like when things hurt.

-

A few weeks later, Janis goes to the special doctor, which her mama said is called a neurologist. The hospital where the neurologist lives is big and scary, but Mama let her bring her stuffed horse along and he makes it all better.

A kind lady leads them to where they need to go, introducing them to a nice doctor man. He asks about Janis’ horsey, and explains what’s going to happen to her while she’s there. This doctor is green too, like Janis. She likes him. Nice doctor man leads them into a room with a big tube shaped thing, explaining that it’s the machine they use to take photos of brains.

They head back to the main room, and take Janis’ height and weight before the doctor takes a funny thing and waves it around Janis, it beeping at her t-shirt. Mama explains that it’s a metal detector, and that the sequins on her shirt set it off. She has to change into a sweatshirt they have on hand so she doesn’t get hurt in the machine, but the only ones they have are adult sizes and go way down past her knees. It reminds her of when she plays dress up with Regina.

Mama can’t go in the room with the machine, only Janis. Since her horsey doesn’t have any metal, the doctor lets Janis take him too and picks her up to get her onto the special bed. As she lies down, the doctor hands her a button and some earplugs to put in, as well as a blindfold. He tells her the button will take her out of the machine in case she gets too scared to stay in, but nothing scary should happen.

Janis puts the earplugs in her little ears, one almost falling out until she squishes it in further. Then she pulls the blindfold on, resting it on her forehead until she has to go into the machine so she can still see. The doctor puts headphones on over the earplugs, the headset almost sliding off her small head until they get sized to fit.

The doctor goes after that, to another room next door with windows to see Janis in the machine. Her mama is next to him, waving as Janis peeks her head up to see where everyone went.

The doctor can talk to Janis in her headphones, telling her to put her blindfold on and lie back down. She does, and a scary grey noise starts happening as she moves backwards into the tube. Janis is a little afraid, but remembers to be brave and just holds her horsey a little tighter.

Once she’s in, the doctor tells her she has to hold super duper still so nothing gets messed up. Rebelliously, Janis wiggles her toes, but nothing happens. Maybe that’s okay. Once she promises to hold still, the doctor explains that he’s going to play some sounds into her headphones, and all she has to do is tell them what color she sees.

He plays a song. Orange. He plays the sound of a bumblebee buzzing. Red. Mama talks into his microphone. Yellow. Another song. Purple.

After several rounds of noises, Janis finally gets pulled out of the machine and is allowed to take her blindfold and headphones and earplugs off. Mama comes in once it’s safe and picks her up, carrying her to the room with the windows.

The doctor gives her a fist bump when Mama sits down with Janis on her lap, telling her she did very well. He pulls up a video, explaining that it’s the inside of Janis’ brain. Janis thinks that’s a little weird, but also thinks it’s cool and asks several questions.

The doctor explains everything to Mama with some big words Janis doesn’t quite understand, saying that the visual center of her brain was lighting up whenever they played a sound, even if she couldn’t see anything with her eyes. She had chromesthesia after all.

Janis gets a lollipop and a sticker after she changes back into her own clothes and gets to go home. She really likes the neurologist.

————-

As Janis grows, she gets used to the colors. Her mother marries again later that year, and her stepfather is the first person to ever make her see grey. She finds that interesting. Her baby sister is born nine months after that, and immediately has Janis wrapped around her little finger. Juliana is blue. Every coo and squeal she makes is like looking up at the sky. When Janis takes up art therapy at thirteen, her colors allow her to create beautiful portraits and paintings like no one else can make.

She learns more descriptions for her colors, too. Damian switches from a sapphire blue to an indigo as he undergoes his transition. Regina goes from a comforting baby pink to a roaring hot pink after eighth grade. She describes Gretchen as a watermelon pink, and Karen as a bubblegum pink. It’s much easier than having all three of them just be pink.

Every noise she hears from them prompts a slightly different shade of their respective color, but she’s never met a multicolored person.

Until she meets Cady Heron.

Ten years after the label of chromesthesia was officially adopted as the explanation for her colors, she meets the only rainbow she’s ever known. Every moment she spends with Cady is a wondrous kaleidoscope in her mind. She wonders if this means Cady might be her soulmate, like in the sappy fanfictions Damian reads to her sometimes.

————-

Cady’s laughter is violet. Janis decides purple is her favorite color.

When Cady gives her sweetest giggle, the world goes an orchid purple. When she chuckles, lilac floods Janis’ vision. But Janis’ favorite is when Cady laughs, truly laughs, a hearty sound from deep in her diaphragm.

That floods the world with amethyst. Janis has never seen anything more beautiful.

-

“Damian, we never introduced Caddy to Vine!” Janis realizes one day.

“What’s Vine? Like in the jungle? They’re not as fun as they sound,” Cady pipes up helpfully. “I got a lotta bruises that way.”

“No, Butterfly, not like in the jungle. Vine was an app where you could post videos as long as they were less than six seconds,” Janis explains.

“Oh. Why is that so important?”

“Because it’s, like, the language of people our age,” Damian says, pulling up a compilation.

At that, Cady settles in on Janis’ lap and looks intently at the screen, as if this video is the most important thing she’s ever going to see.

“Stop! I almost dropped my croissant!”

Cady turns to look at them oddly. “How is a guy almost dropping a pastry so important?”

“We don’t know, but if you don’t know these a lot of being an American teenager will not make sense to you,” Damian says.

“It already doesn’t,” Cady grumbles, leaning back against Janis with a huff. Janis chuckles and kisses her just behind her ear.

“Just watch, Peanut, they’re funny!” She says as Cady gives a pleased shudder at the kisses.

The “Hey, what’s up? You wanna buy an omelet for five dollars?” one does get a chuckle out of Cady.

“Okay, maybe these are good,” She says.

Then, one edit of The Lion King comes on, Cady perking up as she hears Circle of Life. It seems normal until Rafiki holds Simba over the crowd, and suddenly bends his arms back and throws him full force into the animals below as a resounding “YEET!” rings out.

Cady laughs harder than either of them have ever seen, falling off of Janis’ lap and onto the floor. Damian pauses the video as Janis’ eyes cloud over with shades of mauve and lavender. She wants more than anything to paint this moment, but she can’t take photos of what she sees. She’s trying desperately to remember the patterns and shades as they appear.

Cady doesn’t stop laughing for a good five minutes, clutching her stomach towards the end. She’d be amazed if she didn’t have rock solid abs by the end of that. Janis is almost blinded by shades of eggplant.

“I get it now, show me more,” she demands once she’s gotten herself back under control, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes and settling back into Janis.

———-

Janis sees shades of blue when Cady sleeps. It’s not a color she sees with her often, so she treasures the ceruleans and the denims while they last.

The quiet snores she lets out when her head is at a strange angle paint the world an arctic blue, the sound of the sheets rustling as Cady instinctively wriggles into her embrace flooding her vision with navy.

The blue moments bring Janis the most peace she’s ever known.

-

They’re having a sleepover after Cady’s most recent Mathletes competition, Cady having passed out on Janis’ lap after about an hour of fishing in Animal Crossing.

Janis takes the controllers from her gently, saving and quitting the game and shutting off the tv. Then she has to figure out a way to get Cady somewhere she can pick her up from, deciding gently shuffling her to the side is the best way.

Luckily, Cady is the heaviest sleeper Janis knows, so she manages her sneaky shuffle without waking her girl. She scoops Cady up gently and somehow makes it all the way up the stairs to her bedroom. Janis is wearing her usual tights and denim shorts combo, so she leaves Cady to get comfy while she changes into some pajamas.

Cady always sleeps on her tummy when left to her own devices, and it’s so cute that Janis sometimes just sits to watch her for a while. Not in a creepy way, or so she hopes.

This time she remembers that Cady has fallen asleep with her contacts still in, coming to the unfortunate realization that she has to wake her. Cady hates being woken up no matter how it happens, so Janis decides to at least try to make it fun.

She crawls slowly into bed after her and starts pecking her cheeks and nose gently, kissing every little freckle she can find. Cady’s sleepy groan sends Janis reeling with shades of cobalt, the muffled noise of Cady turning her head away adding in hues of ocean. Janis just crawls over her, stroking her hair out of her face and continues her barrage of kisses, crooning, “Princess, you have to wake up for a second,” into her ear gently.

Cady bats her away, missing several times since she refuses to open her eyes. “Nooooo.” Teal.

“Baby, just take your contacts out and then you can sleep,” Janis hums, pulling her to sit upright.

“You’re so mean to me,” Cady huffs, Janis’ vision flooding a peacock color.

“Yes, not letting you get scars in your eyes is a most cruel and vile act,” Janis teases, pulling her to lie back down once the lenses have been removed. Cady tips her chin up for a goodnight kiss before turning over, pulling Janis flush against her back so Janis is the big spoon. It is her turn, anyway.

“I love you,” Cady mumbles, sounding more like “I luff you,” with the exhaustion. Lapis.

“I love you too, Butterfly. Sweet dreams.”

————-

Janis sees green when Cady sings.

Cady sings a lot, most of the time without realizing it, but Janis never gets tired of the juniper and olive that she sees every time.

Every hum transports Janis to a world of a soft fern. The high notes she hears paint the world a seafoam shade, lower notes brushing in hues of pear.

-

Janis is in the backseat of Damian’s car, Cady and the man himself in the driver and passenger seats respectively. Their parents all chipped in to send them on a short road trip to Lake Michigan for a graduation present, renting out a little condo on the shore for a weekend.

Janis had been trying to nap while she was in the backseat, but their rule for road trips is passenger picks the music, so various show tunes are constantly blaring from the speakers.

Doubly unfortunate, Cady liked them. She and Damian had their own special get togethers about twice a month where they would watch a new bootleg of some show Damian had found. It’s cute, but by god is Janis tired.

Suddenly, Seymour comes on from Damian’s playlist, he and Cady locking eyes excitedly. Little Shop of Horrorswas one of their most recent watches, and a show they had both loved.

Damian starts singing along to Seymour’s part, and Janis sees a teal shade as she always does when Damian sings. Then Cady chimes in with Audrey, and Janis’ vision is flooded with a vibrant emerald. Maybe soon she’d have Cady sing for her and do a painting of that. She could do a whole gallery just based off what she sees with Cady.

The combination of their voices makes a beautiful sort of watercolor in Janis’ eyes, shamrock and cobalt blending like the ocean meeting land on a map.

They both get so into belting the song at the top of their lungs that Cady almost forgets she’s driving, nearly veering off into the shoulder lane.

“Can y’all not sing us to death before we get there please?” Janis begs from the back, her friends now looking very sheepish. Damian apparently decides he’s had enough music for a while because he just turns his phone off. “Thank youuuu.” Janis takes her blanket and pillow and flops back down, finally allowed to nap as the chartreuse hues clear from her mind.

————-

Cady’s speaking voice is yellow.

Cady’s mumbles are a banana color, her normal voice a canary yellow. Something about the faint touches of an accent Cady has left over from her youth add just a touch of dijon to it. And on the rare occasions that Cady yells, it’s a terrifyingly vibrant fire color.

Janis wonders if it might be some kind of weird Freudian thing that her mother and love interest have the same color associated with the sound of their voices, but the shades she sees with each of them are different enough that she just decides not to worry about it. She loves her yellow.

-

“Janis?” Cady asks one day during another warm summer, as they’re sitting on the dock and soaking their feet in the lake below.

“Hmm?”

“Do you ever think about the future? Like, with us. Where do you see us in a few years?” Cady asks swishing her feet in the water and painting Janis’ view of the water beneath them a gorgeous butter shade.

“Depends how few years, I suppose,” Janis says as a non-answer. She does think about a future with Cady, more than she’d care to admit, so she needs to know specifics to give a good response.

“Say... five years or so?” Cady asks, looking at her. The little lilt of her voice to make it a question adds in a few flecks of butterscotch.

“Five years,” Janis hums. She’s not sure about that. “Well, hopefully by that point we’ll be living in the same state again and won’t have to do long distance anymore. Maybe I’ll work up the lady balls to propose to you by that point, if I’m lucky.”

“You want to marry me?” Cady asks shyly, but excitedly. New brushstrokes of dandelion yellow decorate Janis’ view.

“Someday, yeah I do. I can’t... I can’t imagine a future without you in it, Caddy. We might as well get married for the tax benefits, at least.” Janis jokes, earning her a shove from Cady. “What about you, where do you see this going?”

“Oh, about the same place. But I want to marry you just to marry you, not for tax purposes,” Cady hums.

“But the taxes are a nice bonus, right?”

“Janis! This was supposed to be a serious conversation,” Cady huffs out a chuckle, shoving her again. Honey colored strokes appear.

“Sorry,” Janis says, leaning over for a chaste kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too. You’re lucky I do or you’d be in that lake by now,” Cady says.

“Hey! I just told you all my sappy plans for our future and you wanna push me in the lake?” Janis pouts.

“I’d jump in after you. I don’t wanna be anywhere you’re not with me. I’m so tired of the distance.”

Janis looks at her for a moment in shock, because holy shit that’s the sweetest thing she’s ever heard. She then takes her phone out of her pocket, resting it safely well behind them so it won’t get wet, before she stands and takes a running leap into the water, still in her shorts and t-shirt. Cady’s shriek as she gets splashed paints what little Janis can see under the water a bumblebee color.

“You’re insane,” Cady laughs as Janis finally surfaces for air.

“You’re only learning that now?” Janis asks, swimming over to her and tickling one of her feet under the water. “Come join me. It’s nice in here.” There’s a fair bit of shallow water past the dock, so Janis can stand and have the water only come up to her chest.

Cady takes her phone out and leaves it by Janis’ on the dock, before coming back to her spot and just looking at her. Janis looks back, grinning mischievously before she grabs Cady by the ankle and pulls her into the water. Cady shrieks again as she’s plunged into the lake. Mustard yellow. Janis had half-lied, the water was actually pretty cold, and Cady pouts at her when she pops back up after a second. Her head barely pokes out of the water. She turns around with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest like a cranky toddler.

“Baby, don’t be like that, I’m sorry,” Janis says, going to pull her into a hug. Then, suddenly, she has a face full of water, Cady cackling as she sends a massive tidal wave her way. “Hey! Oh, you’re gonna get it now, Peanut.”

Cady squeals as Janis lunges for her, diving under the water and swimming away. She’s a good swimmer, but Janis can cover more area and catches up with her quickly, picking her up and pouring water over her hair before dunking her under again. Cady splashes her when she bobs back up again, and Janis splashes her back.

After a while of chasing each other around and splashing waves at one another, the sun finally dips fully below the horizon and the water temperature plunges. Cady calls a truce, and Janis comes to scoop her up when she sees her shivering. Cady wraps her legs around Janis’ middle, brushing her wet two-toned hair away from her face as she wraps her arms around her neck and smiles widely at her.

Janis holds her closer so Cady can get what’s left of her body heat, and starts moving them around a bit to get her used to the temperature shift. Cady tucks her face against Janis’ neck, kissing lightly at her pulse point and sighing happily.

“I love you so much, Janis,” She says, sounding almost drunk on her contentment. Daffodil yellow strokes through Janis’ eyes.

“I love you too, Cady,” Janis answers, using the correct pronunciation of her name to show how serious she is. “More than you’ll ever know.”

Damian gives them a suspicious look when they show up at the back door dripping wet, Cady shivering, and the both of them standing particularly close to one another. Janis just says they fell in the lake, but the way Damian looks at her as he goes to fetch some towels tells her he knows it’s not true.

Janis doesn’t care. That moment was for her and Cady alone.

————

Janis sees orange when Cady cries.

She’s always hated orange, and this discovery makes her hate the color all the more. Cady’s whimpers are a vile carrot shade, her sobs a terrible bronze.

Over the years Janis learns there’s still a beauty in orange. Cady’s overjoyed sobs when they finally get engaged show a beautiful apricot hue; her apprehensive but excited tears when she tells Janis that they’re going to have a baby turning her world an exciting shade of cider. Janis learns to appreciate the beauty of it,  like when the leaves change in the fall, but still doesn’t like it.

-

Janis is worried. Cady hasn’t been answering her texts all day, which isn’t like her. Janis obviously doesn’t expect Cady to spend every moment talking to her, they’ve gone days without anything but a good morning message several times before, but if Cady needed some time alone she would’ve answered to tell Janis that.

Janis decides to drive over to her house, climbing the tree outside Cady’s window and knocking lightly on it to get her attention. She doesn’t want to bother Cady’s parents at the door in case it’s something happening with all of them. Cady looks up from where she’s sat on her bed, staring down at what appears to be a framed picture.

Cady comes to pull her window open, revealing her puffy, watery eyes and red tear-stained face to Janis as she clambers inside. “What are you doing here?” She asks with a sniffle that floods Janis’ vision a sort of pumpkin shade. She doesn’t sound bothered that Janis is there, though, which is a relief.

“You didn’t answer my texts, I got worried. Are you okay, Butterfly? I can go if you need to be alone,” Janis offers, gesturing to the window she just came through.

“No, it’s fine. I mean, if you want to leave, you can, but I’m not upset you’re here.” Cady says, sitting on her bed and picking up a necklace and the same picture she was looking at. “I’m not gonna be great to be around today.”

“What’s wrong?” Janis asks sadly, coming to sit next to her girlfriend.

“It’s... Today is the anniversary of the day we found out my brother died,” Cady chokes out, bursting into sobs. Janis hates the shades of amber she sees more than anything.

“Oh, baby,” Janis says, pulling Cady into a tight hug, letting out a few of her own tears as her girlfriend sobs brokenly into her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“I miss him so much, Janis,” Cady whimpers, flooding Janis’ watery eyes with rust. “He would be twenty-eight, now. I wanna know who he would be. Maybe he would’ve gotten married, had kids. He deserved that.”

Janis doesn’t say anything, just holds her closer and rocks them slightly. Nothing she can say will change anything.

“He was supposed to get his dreams. Supposed to become a doctor like he wanted, supposed to be with us. Supposed to meet you, and Damian and everyone.” Cady continues sobbing. All Janis can see is sandstone hues and the vague silhouettes of Cady’s furniture, blurred by her own tears. “He was supposed to come back, Janis.”

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. This isn’t fair,” Janis chokes, holding Cady so tightly.

“I don’t have much longer before I’m older than he ever got to be. I’m ten years younger than him, Janis. It’s not supposed to be like this. I never- I never got to say goodbye for real, tell him I love him. I told him before he left, but he always said he’d come back, that it was just a farewell and not a goodbye. He came back in a box.” Cady wails, showing the necklace she’s cradling. Janis can barely see it through the tiger orange specks dotting her vision.

“His ashes are in here, and I can’t even wear it because the chain is too much for my sensory problems,” Cady chokes out. “He was the best, Janis, and I can’t even wear a fucking necklace to keep him with me.” Cady rarely swears, usually only when things are very, very wrong. Janis sees the color of yams.

“Oh, angel, that’s not your fault,” Janis demands gently, cupping her chin and looking into her eyes. “You don’t have any control over that. We can look for a new chain, or maybe we can move the charm to a bracelet or something. He understands, baby.” Cady doesn’t say anything at that; just gives a weak nod and reaches for the photo frame.

There’s actually two pictures in the frame, one of a young teenage boy with dusty blond hair and Cady’s same crystal blue eyes, holding a toddler with chubby cheeks and fiery red curls tied back in pigtails. It’s obvious in the picture that they’re both laughing, and that baby Cady is in the arms of her hero. The second shows the same young man, a few years older, his hair darkened to a chestnut brown and his jawline sharpened. His shoulders show a camouflage uniform decorated with several pins and patches. The eyes are so striking, if Janis focuses solely on them it’s almost frightening how similar they are to Cady’s.

“He’s handsome,” Janis says. “You have the same eyes, Butterfly.” That gets the weakest possible grin from Cady, the corners of her mouth just barely ticking up. She traces his face with her finger, wiping away a few tears that fall onto the glass of the frame.

“I miss his hugs more than anything,” Cady says. “It always felt like... like the world couldn’t get in when he held me. It had to stay away while I was there. He used to be the only way I could calm down when I had a meltdown. And he was so warm, too. I haven’t gotten to feel that in ten years, now. I’ve had to spend more years mourning him than I got with him. It’s not fair.”

Janis just hums sadly, letting Cady lean into her.

“I wish you could have met him, Janis. He would have loved you so much.” Cady says quietly after a long moment. “I wish he was still here.”

“I wish I could have met him too, angel. I think I would have loved him too,” Janis says, pulling Cady closer into her, but at an angle so she doesn’t have to stop looking at the pictures. “But I think he’s still with you.”

“Really?” The hope in her voice gives Janis a few strokes of a pleasing cantaloupe hue.

“Of course. He loved you more than anything, baby. Nothing could ever take that from you. He’s somewhere watching over you, protecting you like he always did. Not even death could break the bond he had with you. He’ll always be with you, always love you. And maybe he’s with my dad, who knows? They could be watching us together.”

Cady throws herself into Janis’ lap at that, sobbing hard into her shoulder once again. Janis can hear several different emotions in them, showing her an odd combination of squash and marmalade.

“Thank you. For being here,” Cady chokes out just before she finally cries herself to sleep, Janis still holding her tightly.

“I’ll always be here for you, baby. I love you so much,” Janis answers, laying them down gently and pulling her into her chest. “I’ll be here when you wake up, get some rest.”

Janis keeps her promise, lying there next to her and stroking her hair as Cady sniffles and continues to cry gently in her sleep. She must be dreaming of him. Just before she wakes again, a butterfly with wings the color of marigolds flies in through the still open window, fluttering over and landing at the foot of the bed. Janis thinks it must be a sign from Rhys, letting her know that it’s her turn to take care of Cady now.

She’ll keep that promise too.

—————

When Cady moans, Janis sees shades of red.

Her groans are a cherry color, her sweet whimpers of pleasure a deep crimson. When she begs and pleads, it’s a wine red, and when Cady climaxes, Janis sees a bright ruby.

Janis loves the red moments. The red moments are just for her and Cady.

-

Cady is spending the weekend with Janis, keeping her company while Juliana and her mother are at an out of town dance competition.

Currently, she’s straddling Janis’ legs on the couch, being very distracting as Janis tries to watch her movie, grinding her hips against Janis’ and kissing up and down her neck. Janis wasn’t actually paying attention, just pretending to so Cady would continue her efforts.

Eventually she gives in, wrapping her arms around Cady’s waist and kissing her hungrily. Cady’s pleased sigh floods Janis’ eyes with scarlet. “Do you wanna go upstairs?”

Cady nods eagerly, pressing herself closer.

“Okay, you have to get up for a second. My superpower is seeing sounds, not teleportation,” Janis jokes, laughing as Cady eagerly scrambles off her lap to allow her to stand. Janis stretches, the cracking sound of a few of her joints dotting her vision with black specks.

She goes to pick Cady up once she’s all stretched out, Cady wrapping her legs around her and pressing their lips together again, so Janis has to find her way upstairs by muscle memory alone.

Somehow she manages without crashing into anything, tipping forward to rest Cady on her bed and following after her, never separating their lips. Cady tugs at the hem of Janis’ shirt, whining when Janis pulls away to take it and her bra off. Blood red.

“Can I take yours off?” Janis gasps breathlessly, wanting to see her. Cady nods, sitting up and allowing her to pull her soft sweater up and off. “Bra too?” Cady nods again, so Janis twists the clasp off and pulls the straps from her shoulders tenderly, flicking the garment across her room somewhere.

Once that’s handled Janis leans forward again, laying Cady back beneath her as she kisses her again, flicking her tongue at the seam of Cady’s lips. Cady lets her in, groaning happily when their tongues brush together. Rose red.

Janis nips teasingly at her lip just before they have to break apart for breath, and Cady’s gasp floods her vision with garnet. Janis works her way down slowly, kissing and nipping at the skin of Cady’s jaw, her neck, stopping just short of leaving hickeys behind.

When she reaches Cady’s sternum she does start leaving marks, sucking and nibbling at her soft, milky skin. Cady holds her head in place as her breathing hitches, Janis seeing a deep jam color.

They both moan as Janis takes a nipple in her mouth, matching the flicking and tugging motions on the other with her hand. Though her eyes are closed, Janis sees an apple red. She continues her trail of pleasure, kissing and nipping her way over to the other side and sucking gently on Cady’s other breast for a while, before continuing her journey south.

“Janis, please,” Cady begs, Janis reeling at the strawberry hue she sees.

“Please what?” Janis teases, fiddling with the button on Cady’s jeans.

“Jay,” Cady huffs.

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

“Fuck, please, you, I just want you, I need more,” Cady pleads. Candy red.

Janis kisses her again quickly, sucking Cady’s lower lip between her own before letting it go with a pop. “This okay?” She asks as she undoes the button, pausing to wait for a nod before she pulls the jeans and her panties all the way off.

“Yes, Janis, please,” Cady pushes her gently back down where she needs her.

“Okay, easy, baby,” Janis says, pushing Cady back up farther on the bed, settling on her belly between her legs and hooking them over her shoulders. “I’ll take care of you.”

With that, Janis leans in and licks a hot stripe up through Cady’s folds, tasting her wetness and ending with a teasing flick at her clit. Cady chokes out a moan and bucks up into her, Janis pushing her hips back down gently with a soft hand. She repeats the motion a few times, sucking and lapping at her, barely able to see through the floods of currant and sangria that cover her vision. Not that it matters.

As Janis sucks Cady’s clit between her lips, she looks up to see Cady watching her lazily, love practically oozing from her expression. Her eyes look purple, the clear blue blending with the scarlet clouding Janis’ vision. Janis flicks her tongue over her clit a few times, Cady tipping her head back in a moan and running her fingers through Janis’ hair to pull her closer.

Janis brings her other hand up to brush a finger teasingly at Cady’s opening, asking permission without words. Cady grabs the hand still resting on her lower belly, lacing their fingers together and breathing, “God, Jay, please. I need you, I need more, give me more, please, please please.”

Janis presses inside with her index finger, pulling back and adding a second one with the next thrust. Cady’s breathing hitches, the shaky sigh she lets out painting Janis’ vision a rich mahogany.

Janis continues her ministrations with Cady’s clit as she keeps thrusting into her, nipping and sucking as she feels Cady tighten around her, watches her curl in on herself slightly as her pleasure builds.

Janis speeds up her efforts, curling her fingers and sucking harder, never releasing the pressure, until she feels the familiar delicious vice of Cady coming around her fingers. The cry she lets out with her climax floods Janis’ eyes so strongly with a berry shade that she can hardly see Cady beneath her, arching into her as her legs shake with the force of it.

“Jesus,” She puffs once she’s come down from her high, panting. “Come up here, kiss me. I want you closer.”

Janis obliges, pulling out of Cady gently and sucking the taste of her from her fingers. Cady watches her with hooded eyes, reaching to wrap her arms around Janis’ neck and pull her down into a hot mess of a kiss. Janis gets a strange thrill knowing Cady can taste herself off her lips.

Cady returns the favor on her after a few minutes of kissing, making emerald and scarlet stars burst behind Janis’ eyes. Sex with Cady is different than it’s been with anyone else. With her previous hookups it’s just been about getting to orgasm as quickly as possible, all rough touches and no emotion. With Cady it’s slow, passionate. It’s about conveying their love in a physical way, about taking care of one other. Janis much prefers the way it is with Cady.

They go a few more rounds before they get too tired to keep going. Janis gets Cady off the last time with just her fingers, three inside and thumb on her clit, as she purrs, “You’re so precious, my girl, you have no idea what you do to me. Look at you, baby, you’re so good. I love you so much, you’re so beautiful, Princess. Come for me, baby,” into her ear, switching between French and English. Cady’s always had sensitive ears, in every sense, and they discovered she had a thing for languages a while ago. This climax is much more intense than the first few, Janis’ vision going almost totally wine red at the loud cry of “Janis!” Cady gives as she swallows it with a passionate kiss.

Cady pulls her close once she comes down, clinging to her as she tries to recover from the mind-numbing orgasm she just had. “You okay, Butterfly?” Janis asks, nibbling on her ear gently. Cady nods lazily, cuddling closer into her. Once she can feel her legs again she heads to the bathroom, both of them peeing to prevent infection before they decide to take a shower together.

Cady insists on washing Janis’ hair, tenderly rubbing shampoo into her dark roots and rinsing it with the warm water before gently combing conditioner through the blonde ends. Janis has to crouch down a little so Cady doesn’t have to strain her shoulders so much, but she doesn’t mind. It feels incredible.

“Thank you, Butterfly,” Janis says, bending down to kiss her gently. The whole interaction is incredibly tender, especially in comparison to the rocking sex they just had (if she does say so herself).

Janis wraps Cady in their softest towel once they get out, taking the second-best one for herself. She rubs her girl dry gently, Cady’s auburn curls going a bit frizzy as she dries her hair off. Cady gives a content little shudder at the warmth before letting Janis pick her up again to carry her back to her room.

Cady grabs her own socks and Janis’ jacket from the floor once Janis sets her down, deciding those are her pajamas for the night. Cady always wears socks when she’s inside, and they never match. It’s one of Janis’ favorite little quirks she has.

Post-orgasm Cady is kind of like a baby sloth, slow and lethargic but very cuddly and sweet. Further mellowed by the shower, she sinks into Janis’ bed, making grabby hands for her as she blinks at her slowly and lovingly. Janis is content to go to bed naked, lying down on top of Cady and resting her head on her bare chest as she pulls the duvet over them. Is there a better pillow?

Cady starts scratching at the shaved part of her head gently, Janis’ eyes instantly fluttering shut. “I love you, Bluejay,” she murmurs softly, her voice still slightly husky and flooding Janis’ closed eyes with blush red.

“I love you more,” Janis responds, managing to crack one eye open.

“Noooo. That’s not possible,” Cady answers, moving to scratch the back of her head.

“I’m managing to do it pretty well, then, if it’s impossible.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Cady huffs. “Go to sleep, lovey.”

“Fine. G’night, baby.” Janis tucks herself up under Cady’s chin, her dreams filled with what she calls “Caddy colors” once she finally drifts off.

————-

“Janis?” Cady asks one day from where she’s nestled on Janis’ lap.

“Mm?” Janis opens her eyes halfway.

“You know how you said every person you hear has a color? Like Damian is blue and your mom is yellow and stuff?”

“Yeah,” Janis says, wondering where Cady is going with this.

“What color am I?”

Janis sits upright again, adjusting her grip on her girlfriend. “You,” she says, kissing her cheek gently as the sound sends her vision a rosy pink. “Are the rainbow. I see every color with you. Just depends on the situation.”

“Really?” Cady asks.

“Mmhmm. You’re the only one who’s ever done that.”

“Oh. What color am I right now?” Cady looks like Janis has just told her she’s the most special person on Earth. She supposes she kind of did, in a way.

“Yellow. I see yellow most of the time when you speak. Like a butter shade, kind of. ‘S calming.” Janis mumbles, starting to fall asleep again as Cady begins stimming with her hair.

“What does it look like? When the colors come?” This one of her favorite things about Cady. She’s so genuinely curious about everything inherent to Janis.

“When I first hear something it’s sort of like when you stick a paintbrush in water, like the color comes rolling in from my peripheral. But if the sound sticks around then my whole vision just kind of gets tinted that color,” Janis explains.

Cady gives a thoughtful hum at her explanation, trying to imagine what that must be like. “I’m glad I’m multicolored, then. Wouldn’t want you getting bored of me if I was just one color.”

“I could never get bored of you, baby. But I’m glad you’re multicolored too,” Janis says, pulling Cady against her to get back to her nap.

“I love you,” Cady says quietly.

“I love you too, my rainbow. So, so much.”

-

hi! hope you enjoyed. whether or not this was an au is up to you :) the scenes in italics are all things that i think have happened in the timeline ive been writing in so far, but whether or not janis could see the colors is to be decided by you.

please let me know what you thought, and REQUESTS ARE OPEN! leave them here, on my ao3, or on my wattpad and i will do my best to make them happen. all handles are just maybeimamuppet.

lots of love,

ezzy

[cockasinthebird]

Spending time beneath the stars - Best Friends AU Part 1

06:08am

The sun sits grinning in the early morning sky, shining brightly down at the drowsy and utterly listless flock of students, as they stagger about with their suitcases in tow, standing in long lines to whichever bus they've been assigned to for this mandatory little adventure.

A "fun start of the year" senior trip to Hoffman Lake, to sleep in tents for 3 nights and really "rough it out" as a last hurrah before embarking on their last year in Hawkins High. Or so the guidance counselors and teachers and the principal said last Monday at the first school assembly of the year.

Yet somehow one Billy Hargrove manages to stand with a straight back, head held high, and a wide grin with perfect teeth, as he helps some poor, exhausted girls with their luggage.

They giggle at how his exposed biceps flex as he lifts up the baggage and throws it into the storage compartment, then lowers their sunglasses a bit to bash their long lashes at him and chime out a blithe, 

"Thank you, Billy." 

"No problem, ladies," his response near chivalrous as he gives them that panty-dropping smile he's so famous for. 

And as they reluctantly step aside to keep the line moving, Tommy H shoves his way past some other poor student to get all up in Billy's face with two suitcases - his own and Carol's. 

"Hey if you need any condoms on this trip, or maybe the tent alone for a bit, just say the word and I'll drag Steve off to somewhere," Tommy says with barely any discreet insinuation, nodding in the direction of the two girls who nearly trip over themselves as they stare back. 

Billy chuckles and gives them a light wave, "If Harrington even shows up." 

The bus leaves at 6:30, and at 6:11 there's still no sign of the aforementioned trust fund kid. 

"Maybe his daddy bought him a ticket out of this trip," Tommy groans, and if Billy didn't know any better, he'd have guessed there was a hint of jealousy to those words. "Who the fuck even decides to go camping for a senior trip? In goddamn tents!" 

"If you're gonna bitch and whine like this the entire trip, I'm gonna kick you out of the tent to go sleep with the mosquitoes and bears," Billy grunts out with irritation and exertion as he helps with more bags.

He's usually not known for being charitable, but getting to show off like this in front of all his lethargic peers is a bit of a rush.

Billy gets up at 5 every morning to go for a jog, preferably also a swim during summer, lift a bit of weights, take a scalding hot shower, then spend far too long on his hair, picking out the right shirt and deciding on rings. So really this is no issue at all, and by God if he doesn't flaunt that with a blindingly fresh show of teeth. 

"You… You don't think there's actual bears out there, do you?" Tommy seems more awake now than ever, rubbing the back of his neck and brown eyes wide open. 

"Tommy," Billy says with a stern and oh so serious tone, "Either you become useful and help me here, or you can go fuck off to your girlfriend." 

"Alright geez!" Tommy takes a tone of great offense, but keeps a smile to hopefully stay friendly with Billy, then vanishes into the crowd to probably find Carol and save them all some seats on the bus, Billy doesn't care.

It takes 9 more bags stuffed underneath the bus when Billy grows too impatient and finally checks his watch - the one Steve gave him a few months ago for his birthday - and it reads 6:23.

When it ticks into 6:24, the all too familiar brown BMW drives through the parking lot, and Billy has to restrain himself from appearing too eager as he pushes through the crowd of yawning classmates, and stops up perfectly in front of the passenger seat to Steve’s ride.

In one spirited move, he opens up the car door and leans down with the most irritating, shit-eating grin, as he looks at the barely alive Steve Harrington. “Good morning, princess.”

Steve’s stare is cutting, the bags under his eyes heavy and dark, and he can’t even respond with more than a drowsy grunt; his head lolls against the seat as he sinks lower down, oh so defeated. 

Out the driver’s seat jumps Ms Henderson, fresh and beaming with joy as always, no matter the hour of the day. “Oh good morning, Billy!” she chimes and walks briskly to the trunk.

“Morning Ms Claudia,” Billy responds with his undeniable charm. “Stevie here staying up too late again?”

“It’s terrible, really! Him and Dusty stayed up all night playing some new game on that Nintendo box thing!” she sighs with feigned irritation and rolls her eyes, but with a smile that definitely means boys will be boys.

“Why are you so… awake,” Steve asks rhetorically and his feet land with loud thuds onto the pavement.

With what little energy he possesses, Steve hauls his ass out of the car and stands slumped forward in front of Billy’s energetic pose, hands on his hips and a teasing smile that only adds to the irritation of the far more fatigued boy, whom frowns beneath his unkempt mane.

“You know I’m up by 5 every morning; gotta keep fit for all my admirers,” Billy laughs all too loud, and enjoys the way Steve winces at it.

Who then promptly crashes his forehead against Billy’s broad shoulder, groaning out a long, “Ssssssshut up, fuck.”

Which shocks Billy more than it probably should - they’ve been best friends for what feels like all their lives, and in those years they’ve definitely touched each other a fair share, but still, whenever Steve is the one to initiate it, there’s a pang of heartache deep in Billy’s very core, igniting something all too hopeful.

Yet he braves on, slings an arm around Steve and brings him to the back of the beemer.

Where Billy helps Claudia lift up the heavy weekend bag from the trunk, undoubtedly filled with all those thousands of products that Steve uses daily; he even carries an extra bag to PE and practice because of it all. 

She thanks him breathlessly, then steers toward Steve, cups his depleted expression in her hands, and softly says, “Be safe, ok? Wear sunscreen, drink plenty of water, don’t go out too deep in the lake, and if you see a bear, pee your pants! The smell will deter it from mauling you!”

Steve nods and smiles, mumbling out a row of yes’s.

“Good, I’ll be right here to pick you up on Monday, 2pm, alright?” And with the most gracious show of maternal love, she guides him lower till she can reach his forehead, and plants a kiss there.

And Billy has to look away at that - pretends to scan the crowd for someone or something, and pushes his sunglasses further up in hopes it’ll disguise his painful jealousy of having someone love you like that, of having such a kind hearted mother figure in your life.

“Take good care of him!” she says, directed at Billy, who flashes a convincing smile, and responds cheerfully with a,

“Will do, Ms Henderson!” And he reaches out to pull Steve along. “Come on, pretty boy, or they’ll leave without us!”

“Would that really be so bad?” Steve whines and relies too heavily on Billy’s ability to keep them both upright.

“What, King Steve too good to sleep in the woods?” Billy chuckles as he drags along the suitcase, really doing all the work between them, but for Steve he doesn’t mind.

They’re the last two to board the bus, every single seat filled except for somewhere near the back, where Tommy Hagan waves one hand to ensure that the popular kids stick together, his other arm around Carol whose make-up makes her seem more awake than the way she smiles.

Billy pushes past Steve to walk in front, ready to fight even him for the window seat, and he throws himself onto the bench - scoots all the way up to make sure there’s plenty of room for Steve.

“Hey, Harrington, nice bags,” Tommy mocks like a ‘friend’ would, and points to his eyes.

“Yeah, what are those, Gucci?” Carol quips and laughs at how completely drained Steve is, as he tips his head to the side to look at them both across the way.

“Har har,” he says dryly and is quick to turn away from their jesting ridicule, only to be faced by Billy who laughs all the same. “Don’t even.”

“What?” Billy’s voice incredulous, grinning all mean, “I wasn’t gonna say anything.”

“Uh-huh,” Steve hums out in disbelief.

From the backpack he carried on for the long trip to Hoffman Lake, an hour and a half drive from Hawkins, Steve pulls out a walkman and headset. And he keeps staring straight into Billy’s wonderfully blue eyes, as he lifts up the headset and places it firmly on his ears.

“You really gonna do this to me?” Billy feigns offense as he watches how Steve’s pink lips spread in a smirk. “Just leaving me alone for the ride there?”

And without looking away, Steve turns on the walkman, the mixtape inside whirring into action, and Karma Chameleon starts playing just loud enough for Billy to hear at this short distance from where he leans against the window.

He moves his lips without words, pretending to talk.

“I can’t hear you,” Steve says, not realizing that there’s nothing being said, but notices how Billy’s chest shakes with a chuckle.

He then tilts his head backwards, eyes slipping closed, unaware - or perhaps just oblivious to the fact - that Billy keeps looking at him, admiring the view, whose heavenly gaze smooths down his seatmates weary form, to where there’s barely any space between them, thighs only inches apart from touching.

Perhaps Billy moves his leg; guiding his knee till it’s met with Steve’s own, and when the other doesn’t jerk away at the contact, they stay like that. And maybe Billy is a bit disappointed, or some semblance of it, that Steve is too tired to sit and talk with him on the ride to the camping grounds, but there’s no doubting that the two of them will be sharing a tent together for the next three nights, so they’ll find time to hang out.

Although it’s not as if they haven’t just spent nearly every hour available together during summer break, when neither of them had work or family matters to attend to, that is. Steve had spent three weeks visiting family in Italy, and Billy spent two in California, where all he thought of was Steve Steve Steve. Wonders if Steve thought about him, too.

Billy remains far off in his own thoughts as the bus starts moving, the trees outside passing by quickly, minutes ticking into eternity, songs blasting out Steve’s headset, when he feels an unexpected heat to his right.

He looks to find Steve’s head resting on his shoulder, asleep, drool threatening to drip from his slack mouth onto Billy’s naked arm. And there's an uncomfortable fluttering in his chest, all too familiar, paired horribly with an aching in his hand to hold the other's, the fresh scent of expensive shampoo intoxicating; inviting him to lean in and get a good whiff. And Billy would have, were it not for the fact that they're surrounded by loud mouthed peers, and the way Steve leans against him is already a dangerous affair. 

And Steve’s cheek burns against Billy’s bare shoulder, sweaty skin on skin, making him hyper aware of every breath he feels tickle down his arm hairs. 8 years and he’s still just as sensitive to it all. It’s pathetic and embarrassing, but no one seems to notice, so maybe it’s also ok.

In the row next to them, Carol and Tommy sit just as close as Billy and Steve, albeit a bit more intimately so with their fingers laced together and Tommy occasionally pressing kisses into the ginger hair. And Billy feels jealous at that, at being able to be affectionate with the person you love so openly without fear or shame, but that’s just not meant for him.

Which he’ll hopefully someday come to terms with. Until then though, he’ll allow himself to enjoy what little he can. Like the way Steve leans against him now. With a lovelorn sigh, Billy tears his eyes from that mess of a hair and moled skin, to instead stare out into the blur of green and brown that flies by, and hopefully time will do just the same.

[chemiste]

Sweet Secrets

This is for my first writing night, using the flower prompt list I made.

“Ice plant/sun cup for writing night w Harry“

-to the anon that requested this, I hope this is what you were looking for! 

“Hello Ladies and Gents! Tonight we have with us a very special guest, Mister Harry Styles!”

Emerging from the curtains, the superstar himself strutted out. He looked very fresh in a blue velvet 3 piece suit, his rings accenting the look perfectly.

After a quick handshake, the two men sat in their respective areas. James smiled eagerly, ready to get the show on the road. 

“How are you doing old man? Kids alright?” Harry said, a slight chuckle in his voice. 

James rolled his eyes, “They’re doing fine, you sod. Everything coming along for the third album? I’ve heard whispers that it’s gonna be the best one yet.”

The rockstar grinned, pulling on his lip to give him a moment while he collected his thoughts. 

“Ah, well, here’s to hoping everyone thinks that.”

“You cheeky boy! So ‘humble’ am I right?” James asked the audience, doing quotes around the word ‘humble’.

“Alright, enough with the pleasantries, I’ve spoken to your team and they’ve agreed to a last minute game I like to call, Sweet Secrets!”

As the audience cheered, the curtain on the floor of the stage rose, showing a table filled with tiny deserts, ranging from brownies that bore the Late Late symbol, to pink and blue petit fours  that had Harry’s Album covers painted on the tops. 

The look on Harry’s face was pure terror and a bit of excitement. The singer made a quick glance to Jeff, his manager on the side of the stage who looked absolutely thrilled. 

Okay, this may or may not be revenge for when H changed all of Jeff’s underwear to lingerie on the trip they took to Italy 2 weeks ago, but who was keeping score?

After a quick commercial, the lads were each sitting at the table, a small plate in front of them with a fork and knife set to the side.

“And we’re back! Harold and I are about to play a brand new game called Sweet Secrets!” 

H made a big deal of laying his napkin in his lap, earning a few snickers from the crowd. 

James continued, “The game is simple, you choose one of these delicious things in front of us and cut into it! Theres a small plastic ball inside that hold a slip of paper with a question! You can either answer the question, or eat the whole desert infant of you. Got it?” 

The audience clapped and Harry nodded, slightly worried but also amused, this should be too bad. Right?

“Okay, Harry you can start.” 

“Okay, hmm,” he glanced down at the options in front of him, deciding which treat would be the easiest to consume if he abstained the question inside. “How about this one?” 

He plucked a strawberry cake pop from it’s holder, the HS embroidered into the fondant simmered under the studio lights and he moved it to his plate.

He cut into the pop and pull the little bobble out, taking the piece of paper out to read.

“Okay the question is, how many times have you skinny dipped?” 

He laughed as a few girls screamed upon hearing the concept of him being naked, James as well in a fit of giggles. 

“I guess, let see,” Harry counted the few moments on his fingers, going onto his second hand before stopping at a finger. 

“Eight-ish? I used to go with a couple mates when we were ‘round 15 so I don’t know if I’ve done it in a while for the fear of my dick being plastered on the daily mail is terrifying enough.”

James went, going for a brownie, his question being, “Does your partner snore and if so, has it ever been so bad you’ve woken up?” 

Needless to say, Corden ate the damn brownie.

The next question Harry had was a bit more, scandalous, it being, “Has someone ever bed so bad in bed you couldn’t get it up?” Thankfully the treat he had chosen was a small thing of jello, not too terrible.

“Okay, I’ve chosen the carrot cake, and my question is “which celebrity have you met that you wish to never see again?” 

The audience roared at the question, egging James on to reveal his answer.

“I’m gonna go with Kevin Spacey, not that nice when I first met him and then all that stuff came out so…” 

Harry and him going into their own childish tactics, pointing at each other while exclaiming “eh?” Before they broke into song, “let’s call the whole thing off!”

The two went through the game a few more times, Harry eating a rice cake, a slice of cake and 2 more cake pops. James ate the same amount, so easy to say the boys had had their fill of sugar.

James glanced over to the producer before turning back to the camera, “it seems we’re running out of time so Harry please chose your last desert. Fingers crossed it’s good enough to get my show on the 5 o’clock news!” 

H smiled before taking a breath and picking up a petit four, the one with his first album cover on the top.

Harry scanned through the question, instantly dropping his hands and and tilting his head to look at the ceiling. 

James snatched the paper out of his hands as the rockstar stood up out of his chair, groaning. The burly brit he used to call his friend laughed as he read the slip that cause Harry’s reaction.

“Ha ha ha! Oh boy H, you’ve really brought this on yourself! He pulled the only golden slip in the whole bunch, you know what this means!”

From off stage, a few techies rolled on another plate. This time the petit four seated before them was a real cake, an a big one at that.

Corden got up as well and stepped over to the bigger cake, “The question, for those of you wondering, is, what’s your biggest secret?!”

The audience’s reaction was instantaneous, claps and screams echoed through the studio. 

Harry sat back down, in his chair slightly defeated. He made a move to grab his fork and knife, heading over to the big cake. Boos rang through the room, especially chants of “answer!  answer! answer!” Soon enough the whole studio was saying it.

James raised his hands to slice the crowd, turning to his mate standing beside him. 

“What’s it gonna be H? Easily let us in on your biggest secret, or…” the host gestured to the giant cake before them.

Harry held his face in his hands before holding up the fork and knife 

…and placing it down on the table. 

The audience cheered as he stood, front and center, ready to spill his biggest secret. 

James started bouncing in side spot, equally as excited as the audience before them.

“My biggest secret is…”

“I’m engaged.”

Harry could’ve sworn a few light bulbs popped from the sound in the studio. The sound could probably be heard outside the building, maybe even a few blocks further.

James grabbed onto Harrys jacket and pulled the boy into a hug, the surprise on his face overwhelmed by the joy of hearing the news one of his closest friends was getting married.

The audience calmed slightly as James quickly lead Harry to the couch, hopefully to get the bride to be’s name.

“Harry! I can’t believe this! Congratulations!” 

“Thank you, I’m very happy as well.” 

The host shook his hands before planting them down on his lap as he had said on the couch with H.

“Who’s the girl? I didn’t even know you dating someone!”

The boy’s cheeks warmed a sweet pink, he rubbed the back of his neck, accidentally bringing forth a small chain that had a ring hanging on it.

Harry’s engagement ring.

“Well, we didn’t want the media breathing down our necks so we might’ve devised a plan to keep everyone on a different trail.”

“Do I know her? Have I met her?”

The singer chuckled, “Oh yeah, probably talked to her a bunch as well.”

James brow furrowed as he tried to go through anyone he’d talked to that could be associated with Harry in the past year or so. 

Then it seemed like a lightbulb went off.

He looked up at Harry with a shocked expression, “No, wait, is it,” the host took a pause, waiting for Harry confirmation that it was okay to say the name. 

With a glint in his eye he turned  to a crewman off stage. “Can we please have Harry’s PA come to the couch?”

The audience chatted loudly amongst themselves, looking towards every person with a head set, wondering if they’d be the one to step up onto the stage.

Not detected yet, a girl with h/c hair cautiously approached James from his back. She wore black jeans, a slightly to large rolling stones t-shirt, a headset, and converse that had been colored in the rainbow along the edge.

She poked James in the shoulder, giving him a small wave when he turned around. 

“Y/N! Congrats! I can’t believe you kept it under wraps so well.” 

Y/N crossed over to Harry, sitting down next to him, a little finicky under the gaze of so many eyes.

Harry spoke up, “We thought this would be the best way to be able to stay close but not have to be nervous for anyone with a camera seeing us together, we kept the PDA to a zero in public but it was great to have that sense of safety the cover provided.

“No longer though, eh?” James grinned. Harry turned his head and smile softly at his fiancé, “Nope, no more hiding.”

That earn a round of applause from the audience, seemly in awe of the sweet couple before them.

James laughed, “You realize though that now every celebrity and PA are gonna be looked at as secret lovers from now right?”

“Oh, oops!”

[marvelismadnessmademagnificent]

Tony Stark Sex Pollen

(S/n/n) means stupid nick name

(Y/n) your name

Warnings ⚠️ ⚠️⚠️: smut/Sub-Reader/cursing/ daddy kink/ love-hate relationship.

It was just another day around the tower when tony called me up.

"Hey (y/n) what's up?" He asked nonchalantly.

"I was in the middle of something Stark..." you said sounding very annoyed.

"What ya doing then (s/n/n)" he said drawing out the syllables.

"Ugh Stark What the hell do you want!" You shouted into the phone.

"I need you to come down to the lab. Seeing as how your are the go to on plants and stuff. Cuz y'know your outta this world!" Tony said obviously begging for something.

"Fine I'm on my way. Don't do anything stupid." You sighed.

"What me?! Pssshhh! Never!" He said hanging up.

"Ugh stupid dickwad!" You growled under your breath.

You made your way out of your room and into the hallways of the tower. On your way to the lab you notice an odd aroma in the air. It smelled familiar, and yet you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

"FRIDAY where is Tony?" You asked the AI.

"He is currently walking the halls a few hallways away from the lab. Would you like me to ask him to meet you somewhere Miss (L/n)?" FRIDAY asked.

"No just tell him to stay where he is and FRIDAY?"

"Yes Miss (L/n)?" Replied the AI.

"What hallway is he on? Like what sector?"

"He is currently in sector D3 on hallway 28."

"Thanks FRIDAY" you said.

You made your way to the disclosed location, only to find the aroma getting stronger but not so strong that your brain cells were registering and administering the affects.

"There you are I've been waiting forever!" Tony yelled like an excited child find Santa Claus at their chimney.

"Oh hush up Stark and quit being such a child." You said still annoyed. "So where is his plant you wanted me to see so badly that you had to drag me out of my busy work schedule?!"

"Ah this way of you will follow me. According to the research I've conducted, I have come to the conclusion that it should begin blooming any second now."

"And what does this have to do with me?" You asked crossing your arms.

"I want you to identify it and tell me the classification and all that Jazz!"

"Why me why not get Bruce up here?"

"Because your more fun to tease!" He snickered.

"Yeah yeah whatever Stark." You rolled your eyes at his immaturity.

"FRIDAY seal the lab please."

"Yes Mr. Stark." The doors and everything else went into lockdown mode. "Lockdown mode complete. Blinds and Privacy mode activating."

"Stark what the actual fuck is going on here?!" You were beginning to get fed up with Tony's childish antics.

"I don't know I didn't tell her to do that I just said seal the doors. In case we have some kind of chemical break out!" He said partially panicked. "FRIDAY superior override 406361!"

"Access Denied. Safety precautions Activated. Chemical reaction detected. Activating security measure 6904."

"What's security measure 6904?!" You panicked.

"Let's just say we're gonna be in here a while. At least until whatever chemicals that have been released are filtered out of the system and our ability to breath without the contamination affects." He said his voice going hoarse.

"Ugh why do I ever even listen to you!!!" You screamed at him.

"On the bright side look at the plant it has finally bloomed!" He said shrugging with a slight smirk.

"Oh my Gods YOU IDIOT!!! Where did you get this plant!"

"Well you know the alien attack we had a while ago we found this plant in their ship. And science curiosity got the best of me and well... here we are?" He said.

"Oh shit! Whatever you do don't breath it in! Please tell me you have gas masks in here?!"

"Sorry princess, no can do. If I did, I'd be lying..." Tony shrugged.

"God dammit we're screwed!"

"What? What is it?! What aren't you telling me (Y/N)!!!"

"This plant is one of the most lethal and dangerous plants in all the galaxy! Allevamento Risveglio. Also known as the Breeding Arousal plant. It's known to make those who inhale its scent. Well it makes you horny beyond anything you've ever felt-" you explained but was interrupted before you could finish.

"Meh if that's all it does it's not so bad is it?! And you're making it out to be some horrific plant! Ha!" Tony laughed as he began inhaling its

Scent.

"But once you get that need, it doesn't just go away. I mean sure you could masturbate all you want, it will never go away until the need is satisfied. It will literally burn your body from the inside out give or take 6 hours and you'll be dead!" You screamed.

His laugh immediately stopped and his smile faded into a look of absolute horror.

"See what you've done?! You have basically doomed us! Dear gods we are so fucking screwed!!!" You groaned in frustration. You walked to the other side of the lab trying to put as much distance between the two of you as you possibly could. But that didn't stop the aroma from hitting your nose and the more you inhaled the hornier and hotter you got.

You could feel your nipples harden and your nether regions dampen as unwanted visions clouded your mind.

Visions of Tony taking you right then and there on the lab table. Him sitting in his chair and you coming around to face him sitting on his lap as you straddled him. Rocking your hips back and forth trying to create some friction.

You subconsciously brought your hand down and in your pants and underwear. You felt yourself getting wetter and wetter. You tried to resist the temptation of fingering yourself. But the temptation was too much. You immediately pushed your middle finger in your vagina trying to get yourself off.

You hated Tony for this. What an idiot! You wanted nothing more than to make him beg for mercy as you literally threatened to cut his dick off with your daggers. Oh just the image of that made you squirm. You also had your own AI built into your phone and headset. You had it set up to where AARON (your AI name) could read your nuerowaves. Basically he could read your mind and emotions. You put your headphones in and spoke to him.

'AARON I need you to do me a favor. I need you to go to a 5 star porn site and play it but I need you to edit the video so that it looks like me and Tony!" I asked hissing at the lack of friction and pressure.c

"Of course (Y/n)." Not even a minute later he had what you requested.

The video began to play.

The girl was on the bed on all fours. With the man behind her lining up with her entrance. With one quick thrust he filled her and bottomed out. He withdrew and bucked into her with sheer force. The girl silently screamed at the pleasure. The man set a pace. And soon she was arching her back and meeting him at the hips.

"Don't cum until I say so." The man said.

The girl moaned and bit back a scream.

He pulled her hair and slapped her ass. "Answer daddy, sweetheart, daddy needs to hear you."

"Agh! Yes DADDY!!!" She moaned out again. "Daddy please!"

"Please what?" He said pounding into her earnestly, his thrust beginning to get sloppy.

"Please! Oh! Please let me..." she whimpered a tear leaking from her eye. "Please lemme cum!!!"

He began to slow his thrusts, teasing her, making her ache.

She whimpered louder. "Please..." she said barely above a whisper.

"Alright. You can cum. But! Only around daddy's cock. You gonna be a good girl? Huh? And cum all over daddy?" The man grunted with each thrust.

"OH YES! YES! AGH!" a string of curses left her mouth as she came.

The man drilled inside her and let his seed fill her.

And with that the video ended.

(Y/n) whimpered as she rubbed circles around her clit.

             -meanwhile with Tony-

This pollen shit was really getting to him. He could barely make out the outline of (Y/n)'s body on the other side of the lab. But what he could see was (Y/n)'s hand as she worked herself over. And God if he wasn't already bulging through his pants. He sure as hell was now. He unzipped his pants in rush and pulled the down low a bit. Just enough to pull his boxers down and let his dick spring out. God it looked swollen. Veins popping and the tip had turned pink. He wrapped his fist around his length and began pumping himself. He groaned quietly as he could so as to not alert (Y/n) as to what he was doing. He began to hear moaning sounds and skin slapping against skin. He winced to see where it was coming from and he could barely make out (Y/n)'s phone.

Porn. She was watching porn.

'God this couldn't get any worse' he thought to himself.

Soon after he heard (Y/n) whimper and that nearly sent him over the edge. He chased his release as if someone had stole the most valuable piece of stark tech he owned. But to no avail he couldn't catch it. This time he groaned loudly in frustration.

He considered calling out for her. But that would be reckless, wouldn't it? Oh what the hell since when did he care about being reckless?!

"(Y/n) how are you holding up?!" He just about moaned the sentence.

"I-I'm Fine!" She whimpered again. And he gripped himself harder than before.

"(Y/n) I- I'm sorry I dragged you into this. I swear I didn't know about the plant being like this." Tony croaked out.

"I-it's Okay. Truly!" She bit back a moan.

"I'm sorry to ask this of you but could you.... Could you maybe c-come here?" He groaned again.

"I don't think that's a good idea..."

"Please. Please... (Y/n). I..." he felt like he was getting a serious case of blue balls. "Fuck! I need you! Now" he growled that last part.

She struggled getting herself up. (Y/n) didn't want to seem as desperate as she was. So she tried to walk. That walk... turned into a full on sprint. She saw Tony back against the wall laying down, pumping himself. She was impressed by his size. Six inches just about? And God's was he thick. She gulped her throat suddenly feeling very dry. She ran to a mini fridge they had and got some ice and water.

Tony groaned as his cock was straining. She pushed herself into him. Kissing him full force while straddling his lap. Her sex completely uncovered and there for his eyes only. She swallowed his moans with her own as she moved herself trying to gain some friction. She pulled away gasping for air.

"Fuck!" She whined.

"Come on baby girl. Don't tease me!" He forcefully grabbed her hips and she grabbed his member stroking it and lining it up with her entrance. She kissed him again as she sank down meeting him at the hip. They began to feel somewhat relieved but then the need came back fierce fully like the mark of Cain. She moaned into the kiss pulling away so she could begin moving. (Y/n) soon stripped herself free of her shirt. As Tony brought his chest forward, his hands wrapping around her waist. He began kissing her neck as (Y/n)'s hands went to his hair. He bit down on her soft spot of her neck and she tugged on his hair moaning loudly as she did

"Oh just like that baby girl. Just like that." He whispered in her ear his hot breath gently ghosting along her neck.

"Ah! Fuck! I.. I think I'm gonna!..." she cried out.

"Do it! Do it baby girl. Do it for me.

Scream my name and let anyone and everyone hear it!" He groaned. As he bucked his hips upward meeting her thrusts as she rode him.

"Tony! Ah! I'm... I'm coming!" She yelled in pure bliss.

"That's right! (Y/n) that's right! Call out daddy's name!" He said as he too began shaking as his seed burst into her. Their juices intermingling together as they laid one big heap of a mess on the floor of the lab.

"You know... Tony I don't really hate you..." (Y/n) said drowsily.

"Oh really? I never would have guessed." He said, softly kissing her forehead and rubbing her back as she laid her head on his chest.

"Stop being such a dick..." she yawned out.

"I can't be a dick. At least not with you on mine." He chuckled quietly to himself as they both fell into a deep sleep for that night.

—————————————————

A/n: okay so that was it my first REAL smut and if I may say so myself I think it's pretty darn good! Well tats for now loves!🥰🥰😘

[licenselesswriter]

🌱 Seedling: 🥛 Milk: 🍯 Honey: 🍄 Mushroom: 🐄 Cow: 🌳 Tree: 🌻 Sunflower: 🐓 Chicken: 🧵 Thread:🐈 Cat: 🍅 Tomato: 🐝 Bee: 🍞 Bread: 🐇 Bunny: 🌲 Pine: 🐑 Sheep: 🍓 Strawberry: 🥞 Pancake:🧸 Mountains: 🧸 Teddy Bear:

🌱 Seedling: What is something you want to begin learning? Magic, I want to, pardon me, I need to learn to do card tricks because those are the best thing 😂😂😂

🥛 Milk: What is a food you find comforting when you are sad? Chicken noodle soup, the only soup I can eat even in the hell hole we call summer.

🍯 Honey: What is one thing you like about yourself? My hair, my damn hair comes with an auto-arrange function, so I wake up looking like a zombie, my hair wakes up looking like Ryan Gosling

🍄 Mushroom: What is a quote you find comfort in? My past is not a memory. It's a force at my back. It pushes and steers. I may not always like where it leads me, but like any story, the past needs resolution. What's past is prologue. Metroid: Other M

🐄 Cow: What is one other Tumblr blog you really appreciate? Good question, I’m gonna say my favorites are, @nonaaee @hellophantoms @writtenwolves

🌳 Tree: What is one thing in your future you are looking forward to? Probably The Boys season 3, I learn to be grateful for the things destiny throws at me.

🌻 Sunflower: What is one thing that brightened your day today? MY GOD DAMN NEW HEADSET, FUCK YEAH BABY 🤘🤘🤘

🐓 Chicken: What is a comfort movie/show for you? Movies: 21 Jump Street, 22 Jump Street, Chef, Hairspray, Jackass the Movie 2, and always and forever, The Boat that Rocked. Shows: Single Parents, Girl Meets World, The Office, Ballroom e Youkoso, Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares

🧵 Thread: What is a recent creative project that you are proud of? Ten Duel Commandments, no idea what hell I did in life to come with an idea like that based on a song that has nothing to do with the plot but it makes sense anyway, so, I'm damn proud of my WIP baby LOL.

🐈 Cat: Do you have any pets? Are there some pets you really want? I do have a pet, It's a cat, and his name is Coshino, not in the Japanese way, like Koshino, the Slam Dunk character, but in the colloquial Chilean way to say Cochino (Dirty), and for the moment, I'm good this cat, he's a complete asshole and drops my things but I love him 😂😂😂

🍅 Tomato: Have you ever gardened, and if so, what is your favorite thing to grow? Hell yes, I wanted to have a farm when I was a kid (Which lead to my obsession with the Harvest Moon games), I love to grow cherries, tomatoes, and raspberries.

🐝 Bee: What is a video game that you find comforting? Harvest "I finally have a farm and I'm able to live the life" Moon. also Astroneer.

🍞 Bread: Do you know how to bake bread? If so, what is something you’ve baked recently? Yeah, in fact, I'm better at baking than cooking, and the last thing I baked was yesterday's lunch, I made "Pastel de Papa" which is a delicious dish I love.

🐇 Bunny: What’s a song that you really like? Well, now that I have a new headset, there is a song I've been listening to non-stop (and dancing to it too, because of cooking) and that's the Glee version of "I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You" which is a real banger.

🌲  Pine: Do you prefer the cold or the heat? The cold, I'm a full blood Stark.

🧶 Yarn: Knitting or Crocheting? I have no idea how to do any of those things.

🐑 Sheep: What is a comfort item you own? My silver age All Might funko pop, the smile on that funko always makes me think "Watashi Ga Kitta!!" (I'm Here!!) and that makes me happy.

🍓 Strawberry: Do you own any pink clothing? I do, I have a bright pink dress shirt (because it looks amazing with my blue suit), and a Palermo FC pink shirt.

🥞 Pancake: What is your favorite breakfast food? Bread, with ham and mashed avocado with a few drops of lemon, and a pinch of salt and pepper.

⛰️ Mountains: Would you rather live in the mountains, city, beach, or the forest? Forest, I like the smell of the forest.

🧸 Teddy Bear: Do you ever want to raise kids someday? Hell yeah (so if I ever die with a WIP not finished, they can continue my journey 😂😂😂)

[melyaliz]

Chapter 1: Ride the Lightning

 Masterlist

Fandom: Marvel / X-Men 

Summary: Peter had seen a lot of weird things being an X-men but this woman was one of the weirder ones.  

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x OC 

Notes: Trying to figure out timelines for this is a pain. One of the reasons I HATE the X-Men. We are just going to say this is right after Apocalypse and Peter is around 25. I know I’m going to get hate for it because of time but oh well. 

ALSO: I promise requests are getting written. I just had to clean the 12 chapters of my novel so I could send them to my editors. (I’m so close to being done with the first draft I can taste it) 

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

DONATE or REQUEST

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

He was never sure what had drawn him to her. It was like this magnetic pull. No matter what he did he found himself back to her. Racing toward her, unable to go anywhere else.

Lighting striking the highest point. 

Whoever said lightning never strikes the same place twice was wrong. 

Lighting always struck whatever was closest. The highest point in the sky. So if that point was still the highest point it would still strike it. 

And that was her, she was so high up he couldn’t see anyone else but her.

She was his angel in the clouds.

----

“Cyclops look out!” Jean screamed as she blocked the large bone spikes that were shot out at her boyfriend. Peter looked around the room assessing the problem. It was 6 of them against 4 of the bad guys. 

And they were kind of getting their asses handed to them. 

Only kind of though. 

Cyclops and Jean were fighting that weird bone shooty guy while Nightcrawler was dodging the mini earthquakes from the other guy while Peter was racing around the blonde chick shooting weird little light bombs at him while Jubilee tried to combat the bursts with her own pyrotechnics. 

While Storm, Strom was fighting a chick with hair that was almost as white as hers. 

A gust of wind and the chick crashed into a bus. 

But instead of seeming to get hurt the shock from the force between the chick and the bus seemed to get absorbed. Dropping down the chick shook her head eyes glowing bright blue sparks with energy. 

No one else noticed it, probably because of his speed, but the girl's hands started to flicker with some weird blue light her eyes matching. 

Slowly she stood and as Ororo sent another wave of wind the girl raised her hand the wind dying down and her hands glowing visibility now. 

Dashing toward his teammate Peter quickly moved the weather goddess away as the girl let out a blast of pure energy. He glanced back at the chick, her face completely stoic no expression, completely blank. 

It was kind of creepy. 

Once Strom was away from the blast Peter raced toward the girl. It was time to end this. 

Grabbing her from behind he pulled her hands behind her back against his chest trying to decide what his next move should be. 

“Time to chill out,” he said.  

Slowly she turned to look at him, her eyes glowing with energy, “We do not take orders from you.” she said before leaning back so her fingertips touched his wrist. 

And suddenly Peter felt… exhausted. 

It was as if someone was sucking the life out of him. Or his energy. Or his speed. 

The world seemed to slow, drain. 

He pulled away from her clutching his wrist eyes focusing on her face. Shock, as he realized the world around him, seemed to speed up, meet him. 

Her face looked blank, unmoving in that creepy child of the corn look. But her eyes, her eyes were alight with blue fire. Hair bright as she let the blue energy flow through her body. Rising her hands like a prayer she closed her eyes then spread her arms out letting a wave of energy flow sending everyone flying. 

In the dust of it, they were gone. 

Peter blinked looking around.

What had just happened? 

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

“Late at night, all systems go, you've come to see the show

We do our best, you're the rest, you make it real, you know” 

Metallica pulsed through Gemma’s headphones from her walkman as she moved from the bus stop of her job at the post office. 

“Adrenaline starts to flow

You're thrashing all around

Acting like a maniac

Whiplash”

Her hand tapped against the door letting the residual reaction flow through her hand. Small sparks of energy pulsing through her veins. Who needs coffee when they have an amazing song? 

“Morning!” Her coworker Sandra said waving to her from behind the table where she was organizing letters. Gemma waved back adding a little skip in her step as she made her way back to the packages department. 

Gemma liked the post office. It offered some sort of repetition, moving boxes around getting them where they needed to go. It was a lot of mental work but it was consistent and she liked that. They also didn’t mind if she played music while she did it which was a plus. 

And when she was done she was done. And she could go home and be home. 

And rest.

Gemma had always had problems sleeping. When her mutant abilities had emerged she had just assumed it had something to do with that. Her ability to absorb energy. It was as if every little thing charged her up and sent her into a spiral of energy that she couldn’t quite calm down from. It had taken years worth of therapy and mediation to get it under control. 

So when the restlessness had come back she wasn’t really sure why. 

It was as if even when she slept she felt even worse the next morning. No matter how early she went to bed or how long she slept in. 

“Have a good night last night?” Gemma was broken from her internal whining about wanting a nap by her co-worker Paul who nodded toward the large bruise on her lower arm. She glanced down at it. Yeah, it kind of looked like a handprint. 

“Honestly, I don’t even know where I got that.” Gemma laughed pulling at her sleeve trying to cover it and wishing she had worn longer sleeves.  

“Man I need the drugs your on” he laughed as he handed her another box. 

“Yeah Metallica is one hell of a drug” 

“Oh have you checked out Twisted Sister yet?” 

“Yeah, I loved it,”

“You should come over tonight, ya know, listen to it. I just got a new kickass stereo” 

Gemma bit her lip nervously glancing at Paul. She knew what “hang out and listen to music” meant and… honestly, all she really wanted to do tonight was sleep. Like for real. 

“Sorry I promised my parents I would… do this thing.”

“Oh that’s right christen girl.” Paul laughed shaking his head, “Well if you ever want to see how us pagans live let me know.”

“I’ll keep it in mind thanks.”

After several more long hours even her powers couldn’t help her charge enough. Gemma felt like she was going to pass out on the shipping floor. The end of the day couldn’t come soon enough.  

Slowly she dragged herself back to the bus stop before putting in her headphones and resting as the bus drove her home. 

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

No matter how fast he ran Peter could not get that feeling out of his head. 

His literal speed being drained from his body. 

It was back now, the energy within him quickly recharging after they had regrouped at a team but he still felt like he needed to run out that bad taste that was in his mouth. 

That feeling. Like slowly getting tired. As if something was draining you. Sucking the very lifeforce out of your body. 

He hated it. 

Shaking his head he was about to do another lap around the coast when it caught his eye. 

She caught his eye. 

Maybe it was because he was thinking about last night but… there was no way. 

Yet he could have sworn…

No, it wasn’t possible. 

Doubling back he ran toward the bus again. 

There was no way.

------

The bus stopped to let more people on. Gemma ignored them as she pulled her bag onto her lap to give a newcomer a seat. Settling back in she adjusted her headset as her eyes flickered up for a moment to see a silver-haired boy walking purposefully up to her. 

Shit

Please leave me alone. I'm tired.

“It’s you”

Silence stretched between them both. “Oh sorry” she finally said, “I thought there was more to that pickup line.”

Peter felt himself confused, “No I… you know” he sat down next to her making sure he kept enough of a distance from her that he could get away quickly, especially her hands, “The one from the energy plant. Look if you come quietly…” 

Was this guy insane? Possibly, I mean this was public transportation.  

“Trust me,  I’m not...” 

“Wait are you listening to Pink Floyd?” he asked quickly pulling off her headphones putting one side to his ear.

“Ohhhh ok.” So this guy was insane, fun. “It’s ok never really been that big of a fan.”

“What?” his large brown eyes looked at you in pure shock as if you had just told him the world was flat and that stars are just fireflies stuck in the sky. You shrugged.

“I’m just more of a Metal fan” 

“Like what?” 

“Like this” you pulled out the tape and placed Iron Maiden in pressing play as Trooper blasted through the speakers. Gently she put the headphones on his head. 

He nodded as the music blasted through the speakers. The energy around it is loud and addicting. He was familiar with the band and while his tastes leaned more for contemporary and experimental rock.  

So here’s the thing about talking to strangers on a bus. Don’t do it, especially if they think you are someone you are not. 

But there is also the other thing. 

Gemma could basically blast this guys head off if she wanted. Maybe not at this moment considering that she felt like she was about to fall asleep at any moment, but if she really needed to he could drain his energy and get away no problem. 

So why not talk about music with someone on a long bus ride home. 

Also, she had other headphones so if he had some weird ear fungus whatever. 

Call it loneliness. Call it boredom. Call it sleep-deprived. 

Call it whatever you want but today she decided to just hang with a crazy stranger and listen to music. 

So they sat a half a foot apart the headphones stretched between them as she showed him different songs she liked. 

“This is me” she finally said a few songs later. Peter blinked in confusion at her comment. Turning to her as the song paused. The girl nodded toward the stop that their bus was slowing down toward. “So yeah…” unplugging the headphones leaving them on his hand she got up grabbing her bag before moving around him to get out. “See ya never” 

Peter sat in shock for a moment, what had just happened? How had the time flown by so fast? Normally it was him flying through as the world stood and waited. Blinking a few times he realized the girl was already walking off the bus.

“Hey!” 

She paused turning looking over her shoulder at the weird man sitting there with her headphones still in his hand looking at her as if he hadn’t quite caught up with what was going on. It’s ok not all of us are quick on the uptake. 

Her bright blue eyes sparkled with the evening sun outside the window and a private joke she was enjoying. That’s when he saw it. The way her fingers tapped the metal handrail in time with the music still echoing in her brain. 

Blue sparks. 

“I… What’s your name?” 

“Gemma” 

Two more steps and she was gone, the door closing behind her. Bus pulling away. 

What the hell? 

---------

-GET TAGGED!- 

Forever tag:  @the-shadow-of-atlantis​​ @coffee-randomness​​ @0hmydeku @xx3fsxx @daisyboobear​​   @jason-redhood​ @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr @ocelysium @pinkwitch21 @tomhncharliep  @cdwmtjb8​ @olive-tini​

[eldritchsurveys]

588.

What's your name? >> Mordred.

How old are you? >> 32.

What's your hair and eye color? >> Dark brown, both.

How tall are you? >> 5′5″.

What's your relationship status? >> Married outworld, bonded inworld.

What's your favorite song? >> I guess it’s still Death is the Road to Awe by Clint Mansell. I don’t feel the need to actually have a favourite song, but that’s a good working answer.

What does that song mean? What is the message behind it? >> It seems to be the culmination of the leitmotif on The Fountain’s soundtrack. When I listen to it, it feels like a journey through a lifetime, a gradual and sometimes uncertain and sometimes rushed and sometimes dramatic and sometimes quiet crescendo towards the one singular moment of complete and utter awe. It feels like the most exultant piece of music I’ve ever heard, to the point where it’s painful.

Is it your favorite because you relate to it, or do you just like the beat? >> I feel comfortable with naming it as a favourite because it has a profound visceral emotional effect on me that no other song can really claim.

Have any pets? If so, what are they and what's their names? >> A black cat named Spooky Mulder.

Have you ever met your idol? If so, were they nice or were they kind of an ass? >> I don’t have any idols, but all of the musicians and celebrities I’ve met have been friendly.

What's your favorite method of gaming? (PC, Xbox, Playstation, etc) >> PC.

If you're in college, what's your major and why did you pick it? >> I’m not in college.

How're you doing today? >> I’m all right.

What color are your bedroom walls? >> Beige.

Describe your favorite shirt. >> Okay, naming favourites is hard enough with media and such, but there’s no way I can name a favourite shirt. I only keep the shirts I really like as it is.

Use this space to tell someone off. >> I’d really rather not.

What's your view on smart watches? Cool or a waste of money? >> I think they’re neat. But I don’t have the kind of income where I’d feel comfortable buying one, and I don’t want one anyway. I’m happy with the electronics I have.

What is one poster that you have hanging on your bedroom wall of? >> I only have one poster on my wall (the other things are art pieces), and it’s a Cradle of Filth promo poster that I found lying around with the free flyers and zines at the record store.

How many times have you moved in your life? >> So, so many.

If you moved, do you like where you are now better than where you were? >> This most recent move (almost 4 years ago now) has done wonders for me, even though I still don’t particularly like the location itself.

What's your favorite color and why? >> Gold. It just is, man.

Do you have a calendar? If so, what's the theme? >> No.

Have any famous person's autographs? >> Not anymore.

Do you draw well? >> Not anymore.

What type of cell phone do you have? >> Motorola, bleh. I’m never leaving Samsung again.

Should you be doing anything else right now or are you just bored? >> I’m doing this because I want to do this, not because I’m procrastinating or bored.

If you're in school/college, what's your favorite subject and why? >> ---

Are you a cat or a dog person? Why? >> I’m a “I’d rather not share my living space with animals” person. Outdoor-kept animals are absolutely fine (and those tend to be dogs, which I favour).

Tell me about the plot of your favorite book. >> ---

Do you wear glasses or contacts? >> No.

What do you think about horror movies? If you love them (I do), what's your favorite? >> I do love horror movies, although I can be rather particular about them. I wouldn’t say I have a favourite, but I’ve been obsessed with the Hellraiser franchise (movies, novels, comics) for like 12 years, so there’s that.

Got any cool Christmas presents picked out for family or friends yet? >> No. I’m going to try to see if I can get a pre-owned copy of Super Mario Odyssey at GameStop, but otherwise I have no idea what I’d get Sparrow as a full-on gift, especially since I’m low on funds right now. I just have a bunch of small things that I’m going to put in her stocking.

Do you do Black Friday shopping or wait for Cyber Monday? >> I don’t do either, really, but I prefer Cyber Monday as a concept.

Have any mental illnesses? >> Probably, but the only reason that’d matter is for the purposes of retaining my government income.

What's your favorite word and why? >> ---

What is the most expensive thing you own, and what is it? >> My gaming laptop, probably.

Did you buy that item yourself? >> I did.

Where do you work and what is your postion? >> ---

How often do you cuss? >> Quite often.

What type of car do you drive, if any? >> I don’t drive.

Are you happy with it? If no, what's your dream car? >> ---

Do you have a lot of social media accounts? Which ones? >> No, I just have facebook and tumblr. I might do some research into Mastodon soon, because I’m curious.

What is your favorite genre of music? >> ---

Does your family have holiday traditions? If so, what are they? >> ---

If you're in a relationship, are you happy with it? >> Sure.

How long have you been with your significant other? >> Eight or so years.

Do you like psychology? (It's my college major). >> I... sigh. I think it’s interesting to study, but I think the way it’s used has done a lot of harm for me personally, so I have very little confidence in it as a practice.

What is something your state is popularly known for? >> I don’t know... beer and wine? Snow? Apples? Detroit?

Do you like to do craft projects? If so, what's the coolest thing you made? >> I don’t mind doing craft projects, but I don’t do them often.

Do you watch sports or do you think they're overrated? >> I don’t think they’re overrated, I just don’t care about them.

What's one occupation you think gets paid too much and doesn't deserve to? >> I don’t have an opinion about this.

Do you straigthen your hair? >> No.

Ever dyed your hair a color that isn't natural? (blue, pink, etc) >> Purple, yeah.

How's your relationship with your parents? >> Completely nonexistent.

Do you still live with them or do you have your own house? >> I obviously do not live with parents.

What's something you are currently saving money for to buy? >> Nothing.

Do you smoke/vape? If so, what brand do you smoke/what device do you use? >> No.

Ever done drugs? >> Yes.

Tell me one of your worst habits. >> Meh.

What's a weird quirk you have that no one else you know does? >> I don’t know, I don’t pay enough attention.

If you game, what type of headset do you use? >> I have a Razer headset.

What type of computer do you own, and do you like it? >> I have an MSI computer for gaming and a Lenovo one for everything else. I love them both, they’re good machines.

What's the thing that annoys you the most? >> Meh.

What brand of TV do you have? >> Samsung.

Are you excited for Christmas? (It's December 1st today when I made this) >> Yes!

Tell me about your favorite vacation you've taken. >> This most recent one to New Orleans, because we got to spend a whole week and we were there for Halloween. Also, there was a wedding.

Tell me something cool about yourself. >> I was born with twelve fingers. Fuck you, that’s cool.

Did/do you get good grades in school/college? >> ---

What's your ringtone on your phone? >> I have no idea, it’s always on vibrate or DND.

What's your favorite store to shop in? >> ---

If you won the lottery, what is the first thing you would buy and why? >> Dude, I don’t even play the lottery.

How long have you had a Bzoink account? >> I don’t know, like 9 years.

Ever been to Field of Screams? If so, what's your favorite attraction? >> No.

Do you own a Polaroid camera? >> No.

Do you have hardwood floor in your room or carpet? >> Carpet.

It's a Saturday night, what are you typically doing? >> I don’t know, messing around on the internet as usual.

Do you have a lot of friends or do you not have any at all? >> I have... er... I don’t know. Two? One? Three? I don’t know what a friend is, ask me some other time.

What's your all time favorite movie and why? >> The Fountain. Similar reasons to the song question (especially considering the song comes from this movie).

How many blankets do you sleep with at night? >> I sleep with a sheet and one of the weighted blankets.

What's the last TV show you watched? Did you enjoy it? >> Grey’s Anatomy. You’re damn right I enjoyed it.

Do you prefer cable TV or do you use Netflix? >> I use streaming services.

What is your dream job and why? >> ---

Do you think you would be a good therapist? >> No.

What's your favorite brand of clothing? >> I don’t have one.

[garamonder]

Said and Done

Peter pays Pepper and Morgan a visit for the first time since the funeral. Set just before Far From Home.

.

“Of course, Peter,” she'd said over the phone, “we'd love to see you.”

Peter had to give her the benefit of the doubt and hope she meant it. He couldn't blame her if she didn't. He hadn't seen Ms. Potts since the funeral. Even then they had spoken only briefly, Peter almost afraid to look at Morgan as he mumbled his condolences, shoving down his own misery and forcing himself to smile at the four-year-old. Her big eyes stared back, unsure of this stranger who'd shown up to her father's memorial. He must have appeared an adult to her.

Ms. Potts seemed to know Peter better than he would have expected, having never actually interacted with her before that day. But she'd also had a five-year head start on getting to know him. Peter kind of wondered at that until Ms. Potts told him that Tony had often talked about Peter to her.

For some reason it surprised him. Maybe because he'd spent more time dead than as Mr. Stark's 'intern' and Tony was not such a stranger to tragedy that Peter would've assumed he'd take up the lion's share of Mr. Stark's grief.

Then again, he'd recognized the look on Tony's face when Peter began to stagger toward him on Titan. It was the same instant, deep dread Peter was sure he'd worn himself at the sight of police lights flashing red and blue one night, and the horrified crowd gathered near a car he recognized as Uncle Ben's.

Peter was used to being the one standing graveside. He felt robbed, of course. But it was nothing next to losing a husband and father.

Peter hadn't explained his reason for visiting Ms. Potts and Morgan. Holding his cell and nervously fiddling with some machinery on his desk, he'd called with the intention of explaining everything then, but once he began to try he remembered who he was talking to and got glue in his throat. He only got so far as saying there was something he thought Mr. Stark would want Morgan to have.

Truthfully, he'd stopped himself clarifying because he'd been afraid Ms. Potts would refuse. Everyone dealt with their grief differently. What might seem a ghastly reminder to a widow would mean something entirely different to a four-year-old.

So here he was again, at the house in the woods. May had to work so Peter took a bus, forgetting to wear his earbuds while gazing at the city turning into trees, and easily covered the remaining distance. Happy could probably have driven him but Peter didn't really want to explain this to anyone else, no matter how sympathetic the ear.

He looked around. This place must have felt like an escape after the Snap. A born-and-bred city kid, Peter never lost a kind of marvel at unfenced green spaces. Gravel crunched under his sneakers. He'd always liked the sound of gravel.

Peter kind of had trouble picturing the flashy billionaire abandoning the penthouse view for a forest. But anyone who'd known Tony longer might have said the same if asked to envision him with a wife and daughter after all the supermodels who'd cycled through his life in an endless parade back out the door.

Ms. Potts walked out on the porch to meet him, dressed in a casual sweater and long pants. She looked around for the car that had brought him and Peter realized he hadn't said how he was getting there.

“I took the bus,” he said lamely.

“Oh,” she said in surprise, “you didn't need to do that. We could've come to the city.”

“No, it's fine. I don't mind,” Peter told her.

Mindlessly he'd stopped at the foot of the porch. Ms. Potts came forward and hugged him warmly. “How are you?” she asked.

“Okay,” he said, adjusting the strap of his backpack slung over one shoulder. “Um—you?”

“Okay,” she repeated, with a small smile and a shrug. “Sad. Making Morgan a lot of cheeseburgers.”

Despite himself Peter gave her a faint grin. He'd had occasion to witness Tony's fondness for them.

“Happy says you're going on a school trip soon,” said Ms. Potts, turning to invite him inside. “To Europe. Wow.”

“I don't think it's going to be that fancy,” Peter said. He'd looked up the hostels on the itinerary, and after seeing the foreboding Yelp reviews had updated his booster shots accordingly.

“Oh, but it's Europe,” Ms. Potts said fondly.

“Have you been?”

“Uh huh. I dragged Tony to the Louvre and he complained the whole time. I told him he needed to appreciate art outside of heavy metal album covers.”

Peter grinned again. He suspected she was trying to lighten the mood. “We're supposed to see Paris.”

“You'll have to find a cute girl to give a rose,” she teased.

He was hoping to do better than a rose. Besides, the cute girl preferred black dahlias.

Dishes sat in a drying rack. Though of fine quality, everything in the house exuded homey comfort. It was a funny mix of old-fashioned furnishings with evidence of high-tech gadgetry spotting bookshelves and side tables. If Peter ever retired, maybe he'd like a place like this. Provided it had good wifi. And a lab. And pizza within deliverable distance.

As though she'd read his mind, Ms. Potts said, “Pizza's in the oven. We're a little out of the delivery range. You like the works, right?”

Another one of the tiny things Mr. Stark must have remembered and told her. Peter Parker had liked pizza. He always got the works.

(Actually, what Tony had said to Pepper was: “I once watched Parker demolish a giant pizza in one sitting. Before wolfing down a bouquet of churros for dessert. It was like watching an anaconda devour a goat.”)

Touched, Peter said: “Yeah, but you didn't have to go to any trouble, Ms. Potts—”

“Pepper, please,” she corrected him. “And it's no trouble. Eat first?”

“Sure. Thanks.” Maybe it was better for Morgan to get her bearings around him anyway, before he started asking her odd questions.

The table was set already. When was the last time she'd set the table for three? Yikes, don't think about that. Peter was a little nervy being the only guest now, no strangers to act as a buffer between him and Mr. Stark's widow. He leaned his backpack carefully against a recliner.

“Morgan!” Pepper called down a hall. “Pizza!”

Moments later a bright-eyed girl emerged from the hall, carrying an action figure with her. “Morgan, this is Peter,” her mom told her, brushing aside a strand of fine dark hair from the girl's forehead. “You met him a few months ago.”

She remembered. “You're a friend of my dad's,” she declared with certainty.

Peter nodded. “That's right.”

He was glad she remembered, because it boded well for what he'd ask her soon.

Dinner ended up being a lot less awkward than he'd feared. Pepper had a knack for guiding the conversation without forcing small talk, and before he knew it Peter was chatting away almost comfortably. Morgan divided her attention between the guest, her pizza and her action figure, which she rearranged in different poses throughout the meal. Tony Stark was, conversationally speaking, the elephant in the room, and they skirted mention of him in their discussion with the delicacy of probing around a flesh wound.

Peter helped Pepper clear the dishes, wiping them off with a flowery towel. Once the drying rack was full again, Pepper sat on the couch with an arm around Morgan and watched Peter dig restlessly through his backpack.

Finally he withdrew a funny-looking contraption that comprised of a set of glasses, on which perched a recording device wired to a hard drive. The glasses were tiny, designed for a child. The device was a somewhat hodge-podge Frankenstein of tech cobbled from Mr. Stark's files with some additions of Peter's own.

“So, um,” he started, suddenly nervous again, “I borrowed from some of Mr. Stark's B.A.R.F. software. You know he's got it so it doesn't need an implanted chip anymore? It works on a proximity basis now. So when someone wears the glasses, it'll, like, recognize the user and act as a kind of Bluetooth for their brain.”

Pepper nodded, following along. Half-sunk into the cushy pillows, Morgan was gazing at the pink, child-sized glasses, which Peter had bought cheap in Flushing.

Peter turned the small headset around in his hands. “I thought Morgan could use it.”

Surprised, Pepper said: “Morgan? Why?” At the mention of her name, the little girl peered at Peter curiously.

“Have you heard of childhood amnesia?” Peter asked Ms. Potts. “You know how you just...forget stuff from when you were really little? Maybe there's flashes here and there, but it's hard to hold on to much.”

As if prompted, Pepper's eyes flicked to the side in an unconscious effort to recall early memories. She nodded again thoughtfully.

Peter went on, relaxing a little: “As we get older it's hard to retain memories from early childhood. Some stuff will stick out but the little things, the day-to-day stuff, gets lost. There's a lot of debate about how it happens, whether it's”—animatedly, he started waving a hand around— “developing cognitive behavior or because the GABA neurotransmitter acts as a gatekeeper for early memory retrieval—” He stopped as Pepper's eyes began to glaze over and started over with an apologetic grin. “Sorry. Anyway, it happens.”

He held up the gadgetry. “Morgan's actually at a really good age for memory retrieval. She's old enough to form autobiographical memories and young enough that they haven't been rewritten yet. Even better, she's able to process memory without emotion acting like, I don't know, rose-colored glasses. It's kind of hard to separate long-term memory from emotion, and that can almost change, um, your whole recollection of something.”

“Okay,” said Pepper, who was probably used to Tony babbling at her about this. “Tony mentioned some of these things during the early stages of B.A.R.F.”

Morgan giggled at the word 'barf.'

Smiling at her, Pepper added: “He said even though the system hijacks the brain, what it pulls back out might not actually be what happened—it's just our impressions. Even the holograms in his demonstration at MIT had to be padded out retroactively by computer modeling. I'm pretty sure he tried to make his younger self a little taller in the demo.”

Peter stifled a grin. “Well, maybe I would too.”

Pepper's eyes fell on the glasses. “What do you want Morgan to remember?” she said quietly. Maybe she knew the answer already.

“Her dad,” said Peter.

Faltering before the sudden silence, Peter fumbled for the hard drive and kept talking. “I uh, I've got this hooked up to a drive. Instead of projecting a hologram, the memories she consciously processes will be recorded on this. So you can, um—play it back. Like a movie, I guess.”

Pepper stared at him with an expression he couldn't decipher. Morgan abandoned her action figure to gaze up at her mother, alert to the change in demeanor.

Would Pepper tell him no? Thanks, but I don't really know if that's the healthy way for a child to process her father's death. It's the thought that counts. We appreciate you visiting, and please have a wonderful time in Europe.

A little desperately, Peter said: “It's hard to know now what memories Morgan's going to hang on to. Pictures and YouTube clips are good but they aren't really a substitute.”

He was speaking from experience, of course, but he didn't mention that.

“I thought maybe she could try it out. And if it works OK, you can spend a few weeks adding memories to the drive. The code is kind of complicated so I'll have to convert the files myself.”

When he looked up he saw Pepper blinking quickly. There was a long moment.

She turned to the little girl. “What do you say, Morgan? Wanna make a photo album of Daddy?”

“OK,” Morgan replied, still a little uncertain but it seemed to be the answer expected of her.

Peter blew his breath out. “OK,” he repeated, relieved. “Here, um—why don't you try these on?”

He passed the glasses to Pepper, who, gingerly considering the delicate tech barnacled to the frames, perched them on Morgan's nose. Perhaps knowing it drew from Tony's tech, and wasn't totally derived from a high-schooler's notebook scribbling, gave her confidence. “Stylish,” she told her daughter. Morgan preened.

Meanwhile Peter withdrew a laptop from his bag and opened it, setting it aside on the coffee table and attaching a cord to the hard drive wired to the pink spectacles. He'd already pulled up the software he'd use for conversion. He rubbed his hands together, suddenly energized as he always was when beginning a lab experiment. “Let's give it a test. So um, Morgan, what's your favorite animal?”

“A hippogriff,” she said promptly.

Pepper mouthed silently, “Don't tell her.”

“Oh—good choice. OK, can you picture a hippogriff? The last time you, um, saw one? You can close your eyes if it helps.”

Obediently Morgan squeezed her eyes shut. “Concentrate and think about all the different parts of the animal,” said Peter, scooting his laptop closer. “Like, what color is it? How big is it? You can answer by thinking about it.”

Morgan thought for a few moments. “OK,” she announced when presumably a hippogriff filled her vision.

Peter watched his screen as live data collected on the drive and took shape. It did not process like a movie file so much as a rendered model writ in code. She evidently had a very good recollection of what she thought hippogriffs looked like. When the stream tapered off he said: “Okay, pause your brain.” Morgan giggled.

Pepper watched Peter as he tapped away at his computer. “I honestly think Tony lost the ability to type,” she informed him. “It'd been so long since he actually needed a keyboard.”

Peter snorted. Tony must have thought it very confining, typing out one line when his brain was leaping ten lines ahead already.

“Let's take a took,” he said once he'd converted the file. “They take a while to render totally so it's low res for now.”

He took a miniature hologram projector Tony had once tossed him and hooked it to the laptop, which now resembled a nerve cluster with so many cords branching out. Then he pressed a series of buttons and a second later the slightly shimmering image of a hippogriff spun slowly above the device. Morgan had surpassed expectations: not only was the image of the creature clear (and a near-perfect replica of the one from Harry Potter) but she'd even envisioned its environment in the form of a forested clearing.

Morgan was delighted. “That came out of my head!”

Peter was familiar with the tech but he still marveled at its ability to draw out subconscious detail. Brains weren't a bank; they didn't store everything, but the software was very good at rounding out the model.

“That's awesome, Morgan. Now, let's try something a little harder. Can you turn your brain on again?”

Like an astronaut conducting a pre-launch checklist, she nodded, straight-faced.

Normally he'd run tests gradually building in complexity but this time he jumped ahead.

“This time, I uh, want you to think about something your dad's said to you. You don't have to say it out loud.” He shot a glance at Pepper, who merely gave him a small smile. “Think about when this was. Where were you? What were you wearing? What did he say, and how did he say it? Can you put it in order? What else was in the room? Go around the memory like you're looking everywhere in a room and memorizing it.”

He was half-afraid he was pelting her with too many questions. While her memory skills were developed enough for the device, it was a lot for a not-yet-five-year-old to juggle at once. But she didn't say anything, just sat with a face comically scrunched up from shutting her eyes so tightly.

Data began flooding through the drive. Peter sat and watched it materialize into characters on his screen. He waited patiently so his typing wouldn't disrupt her concentration.

While she sat and thought, Peter couldn't help letting his eyes wander around the living room, across family mementos.

It was just so different. Had Tony relocated here to escape the city? Following the Snap, it would have been full of shell-shocked mourners. When blows were so sudden sometimes the pain came belatedly, like a thunderclap following the lightning flash. The horror must have been worst the day after, when it became clear the disappearances were, in fact, deaths. Every day he would have encountered so many people he must have felt he'd failed.

What would I have done? Peter thought suddenly, startling himself.

Well, he'd failed people before too, and probably wasn't done yet.

Eventually the data slowed to a trickle. Peter cut it off after it'd leveled. “Brain off,” he said, and Morgan opened her eyes.

Pepper watched him work quietly. Peter felt tense again for a reason he couldn't explain. The data was much more complicated this time and required longer to convert to a viewable format. In the meantime, Morgan toyed with her action figure again, though her interest in it seemed feigned.

Finally Peter looked up. “Um—it's more 2D than anything,” he said, “for now. But I can project it. Just to show you.”

He picked up the hologram projector again and toyed with it. Light emanated from a lens and Peter looked up to see Tony Stark's face loom above.

Morgan watched with rapt attention. Her mother's hands were tightly entwined in her lap.

In the memory, Mr. Stark was putting Morgan to bed. It must have been very recently. For a four-year-old's recollection the image was quite sharp, though it was imperfect, vague in some areas, unrefined and lacked true three-dimensional modeling. The color was muted. You could see what he looked like and how his voice sounded. That was important; Peter had wanted her to retain that herself rather than having to round it out with computer modeling from archived data.

“I love you 3000,” Peter heard her childish voice say, tinny coming from the small speakers.

Tony seemed impressed. 3000 was a high grade, apparently. After telling her to go to bed or he'd sell all her toys, he went out and closed her door behind him.

As memories do, the hologram faded into an obscure, indistinct image and Peter shut it off wordlessly.

The room was hushed. Peter was startled to see tears falling down Pepper's cheeks. He felt uncomfortably like he'd witnessed something private. It seemed a little like eavesdropping.

“Play it again,” Morgan commanded him, and Peter dutifully played it back.

After they watched it again Peter said to Morgan, “You can keep those glasses.”

“Really?” she asked, eyes wide.

“Yeah. When you think of something you want to remember, you can put them on and think really hard about it, the way you did just now. Then I'll get the drive back and make it so you can watch them later.”

“Okay,” said Morgan. She might have started right away to try and think of other pennies to put in the memory bank. Still silent, Pepper nudged her. “Thank you,” she added, remembering her manners.

Peter smiled. “Sure.”

There was a danger to this kind of technology, of course. Peter was never really sure about the therapeutic benefits of B.A.R.F. He was never tempted to use it himself. When you couldn't actually go back and change anything, what was the point to reliving it and pretending otherwise? It almost seemed another way to kick yourself for roads not taken.

It was easy to get lost in the past, but a child was less susceptible. He knew Pepper would never use the technology to recreate her husband. Once they'd collected a garden of Morgan's memories, she'd give him the glasses.

For the first time he realized how late it'd gotten. The summer evening had grown dark. “Oh geez, I should go,” he said quickly after glancing at his watch. The last bus would be leaving before long, and he had two miles to swing before he reached the stop. He disconnected the laptop and hologram projector, leaving the glasses and the drive they were attached to.

Pepper stood up with him, carefully removing Morgan's glasses and setting them on a shelf until they were ready for round two. “I'll walk you out,” she told him. Something in her voice was restrained. “Say goodnight to Peter, hon,” she said over her shoulder. “Then it's bedtime.”

“G'nite,” said Morgan, wiggling her little fingers goodbye.

“'Night,” he said back.

As he glanced back on his way to the door he saw that Morgan had not yet picked up her action figure, but sat instead concentrating on something they could not see.

The summer evening was pleasant out on the deck. A light breeze ruffled the tops of the trees. As a child Peter had found this sound ominous, but maybe it had meant something else to Tony and Pepper. He could hear an owl hooting.

They walked across the deck to the top of the stairs, where Pepper drifted to a stop. Peter stopped too.

“Um,” he said, words sounding flat in the dark air, “So in a few weeks I'll get the drive back—or you can send it, whatever you want—and I'll convert them to a better quality. I thought maybe I'd have to add some archival data to flesh it out, but her memory's pretty good and I might just leave it. It's not, you know, polished, but I think it's more authentic.”

Recorded memories were a distant second to the real deal, but repetition was instrumental to memory retention. If Morgan saw the recordings every once in a while, it'd bolster her real recall—he hoped.

Pepper nodded minutely. Her tears had gone and she seemed to study him a moment. Then, without speaking, she stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

“This is a gift,” she whispered over his shoulder. “Thank you.”

After a long moment she drew back, keeping her hands on his shoulders like Aunt May sometimes did. “What made you think to do this?”

“Oh.” Peter shrugged. “Ah, it was just an idea I had. That's all.”

It wasn't, and Pepper knew that full well. He felt dumb; she had to know about the plane crash. Richard and Mary Parker had died when their son was no older than Morgan. Mr. Stark would have told her that too.

Pepper wore a bittersweet smile. Just then he knew she was wondering whether he remembered them at all. If she asked, he'd lie and say he did. Why upset her?

It was different with Uncle Ben. Peter could remember the things he'd said and done. In a way, they showed the way forward. So, too, would he remember Tony.

Sometimes Uncle Ben would fondly mention his late brother Richard. Once, when Peter was in fifth grade, Ben had asked if Peter remembered the way his dad would swing him side to side, making a seat from his hands and whirling his cackling son around. Amused by the story, Peter had said no. He never forgot the flash of disappointment that crossed his uncle's face before Ben's usual cheer reasserted itself.

He hadn't wanted that for Morgan, that was all.

“Come see us anytime,” Pepper said kindly. “And have fun in Europe. Make the most out of Paris. I know there's a girl.”

Peter laughed. “Will do.”

He went to Europe and came back. It was a hair-raising experience. He did give a girl a flower, even though it wasn't a rose and it was in London, not Paris.

“Hot dogs sound good?” said Pepper over the phone. Morgan had recorded several more memories, and they were ready for conversion. “I got some Nathan's from the store. Relish or no relish?”

“Relish, totally,” said Peter. “I'm civilized, aren't I?”

“Hawkeye's kid puts mayonnaise on his,” confided Pepper.

“Ugh.”

Hot dogs sounded great. He'd catch the bus upstate later, right after his date with MJ. He was going to take her swinging for the first time.

.

.

(I actually put ketchup on my hot dogs, I don’t like relish)

[lynne-monstr]

Flufftober Day 22: City

ao3 link

“I didn’t know you could fly.”

Magnus’ hands paused in their deft journey across the control panel, turning towards the co-pilot’s seat.

The force of his full attention hit Alec as it always did, pinning him in place more securely than the safety harness he had just strapped himself into. Magnus was a force of raw nature, focused and beautiful and powerful enough to level cities if he so desired.

The effect was only somewhat ruined by the carefree smile that lit up his face.

“I invented the helicopter, you know.”

Alec rolled his eyes but he was laughing as he said, “No you didn’t.”

“No I didn’t,” Magnus agreed with a wink, shoulders swaying back and forth as much as they could within the confines of the safety harness.

Alec fought the urge to unclip his own chest restraints so that he could lean across the cockpit and grip those strong shoulders in his hands. He wanted to feel the muscles under his palms rock back and forth as he kissed that smile into a breathless gasp. It was the same way he felt whenever Magnus was happy. If he could just get close enough, he could burrow himself deep inside and never have to leave.

But if he did, they’d never get off the ground, and Magnus had been going on about taking them up into the sky for weeks. With a last flick of a few switches, the blades above them started to move, rumbling faster and faster until the air was whipped into a frenzy of howling noise.

Alec flipped his headset on, adjusting the speaker in front of his mouth. Despite the ear protection, the noise around them got even louder.

“Really though?” he asked, genuinely curious now. “When did you learn how to pilot one of these?”

Magnus’ voice came through the speakers loud and clear as they began to lift up into the air.

“I used to sneak onto an Air Force base. Very patriotic of me, I know.”

Somehow Alec doubted Magnus’ illicit activities had anything to do with pride in his adopted city, and said as much.

Magnus turned to look at him, eyes bright with wonder before focusing back on the sky. “For most of my life, air travel was only for birds. Not even magic had anything like it. When I first heard of a machine that could fly, I was fascinated. I had to see it for myself.”

He handled the controls with the same confidence he used while casting spells, hands steady and sure as he maneuvered the helicopter forward through the air. “I even owned a hot air balloon in the eighteen hundreds, you know,” he added.

“Somehow I can picture you in a giant balloon with a cocktail.”

Magnus huffed in amusement, turning the helicopter so they flew along the path of the river. Alec noticed he didn’t dispute the claim.

The city spread out below them as they rose higher, buildings of all shapes and sizes reaching like fingers up towards the sky on either side of them. Cutting through the urban landscape, the East River flowed like a snake out towards the horizon, broken into large pieces by jutting lines of bridge after bridge. Alec took it all in with wide eyes. The New York he knew was coated in darkness and grime, back alleys and nightclubs where demons lurked and blood was spilled. It was easy to forget that there was another side to it.

The most beautiful side of the city, shown to him by the most beautiful man in it. Pink and orange streaks of sunset glinted off the tips of Magnus’ hair, painting his profile and setting his skin ablaze with radiance. It lit him up, like the physical embodiment of how he lit up Alec’s life.

As they continued working their way up the edge of Manhattan, Magnus pointed out various places he had been or lived, always with a story to go along with it.

The prohibition bar near the Chrysler Building that Charles Lindbergh had visited while Magnus was singing on stage. The corner of Central Park South where Ragnor and Catarina had stolen a horse and proceeded to portal it into Magnus’ home, just to make him laugh. The museum that Magnus insisted stole his old belongings, no matter that they had been dug up centuries after he had abandoned them.

Alec studied the buildings below them, their lights just beginning to emerge from the deepening sunset, trying to see the city as Magnus did.

It was easy to forget that his boyfriend was far older than his youthful looks suggested. He had lived lifetimes, seen so much, done so many things. Ironic, since they almost fell apart before they even got started, due to those exact differences. But once Alec saw beyond the fortified walls Magnus showed the world—saw the person beneath the power and the extravagance and the historical name dropping—the years between them seemed to fall away.

Had Magnus been born mundane, he would have lived and died never having known a sight like this. He would have died, and Alec would never have met him.

The thought twisted Alec’s heart in his chest.

He didn’t need any other reason to love the magic beside the fact it was Magnus’. It was the power at his fingertips that lit his hands and obeyed his will, be it in battle or in bed. It was as much a part of him as the beating heart that lulled Alec to sleep, his head pillowed on Magnus’ strong chest. Or the little birth mark above his eyebrow that Alec loved to kiss first thing in the morning. It was his perfectly manicured hands that wielded a sword or staff or a fireball as deftly as he did a cocktail shaker.

Even if Alec didn’t love the magic for all those things, he would love it for this: the magic brought Magnus through the ages, right here to Alec’s side.

“You’ve lived through so much,” Alec said, voice barely above a whisper. The tensing of Magnus’ shoulders felt like an arrow in Alec’s heart and he could have kicked himself. He rushed to add, “It’s not a bad thing. I just mean there’s a lot.”

Magnus’ smile turned sad. “I’m a lot.”

Alec shook his head, then realized Magnus probably couldn’t see the gesture very well with the large ear protectors obscuring his peripheral vision. “That’s not what I meant,” he said. “Yeah, you’re a lot. But it’s a good a lot. I like all your parts.”

A huff of laughter came over the headset and Alec knew exactly what was coming. Magnus liked to deflect when he was truly uncomfortable.

“Well, Alexander, in that case, there’s one particular part of me—”

“I mean it,” Alec cut in, needing to say this. Not that he wasn’t also interested in that part of Magnus. Quite the opposite, and his plans for the later part of their evening proved as much. But this was too important to let slide.

Magnus always said things like this, like he didn’t believe Alec when he said that no much of Magnus could ever be too much. He hated when Magnus tried to make himself smaller, when he tried to trim off the aspects of himself he thought were too much.

Every time, it felt like a piece of Alec’s own heart was being torn out with it.

Magnus stared out the into the skyline fading into twilight, but Alec knew he wasn’t seeing the admittedly spectacular sight.

“Thank you, Alexander.” Magnus voice was low even over the headset, but there was something in his voice that gave Alec hope he was being heard. “I hope you know that I love all of your parts, too.”

“I do,” he said, and he meant it.

His heart fluttered at the memories the words brought forth. All the times Magnus took Alec’s bruised and battered hands into his own at the end of a long day. Prying his bow and arrows from his grasp and replacing it with fingers wreathed in warm magic. Sheltering the parts of him that Alec would rather forget existed, because Magnus loved with his whole heart and his whole heart loved Alec.

Alec loved him so much it hurt.

Sometimes he wondered how his heart didn’t physically jump from his own chest to lodge itself inside of Magnus, where it desperately wanted to live. If it took the rest of his life, he’d make Magnus see himself the way Alec saw him.

Beneath them, the last of the pink sky bled into hues of dark blue and a blanket of tiny flickering lights spread out across the ground around them.

Alec’s home wasn’t perfect, far from it. Even with all of the beauty there were patches of sadness and struggle and pain, all wrapped up in one perfect jewel of a package that Alec wouldn’t change for the world.

Not perfect, no, but perfect for him. There wasn’t a single thing Alec would change about Magnus, even if he could.

[mosylufanfic]

Sidekicks

Killervibe Fanfic Week! Monday June 18th: Role Reversal

@killervibedaily

I thought this was a pretty fun prompt, and of course, the first thing I thought of was Cisco Frost and Caitlin Vibe. That would have been pretty neat! But then I started to wonder what they would be like with swapped personalities, and that notion wouldn't let go. So here you go.

Sidekicks

Francisco Ramon had pulled his hair back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, one so secure that the wind whipping down the runway didn't budge a single strand. Barry wondered if it gave him a headache. Maybe that was why he had such a dour expression.

He shoved his thick-framed glasses up his nose and studied Barry like he was a bug. "We've theorized that you were moving so fast, it only appeared that the world was slowing down. That's what we're testing now." He glanced back at the other two people from Star Labs. "Dr. Wells will be monitoring your energy output, and Dr. Snow, your vitals."

"And what do you do?"

"I build the equipment, of course," the other man said. He held up a black circle with a lightning bolt on it. "This is a two-way headset that I've modified, with a camera attached. It's designed to combat battlefield impulse noise."

"Or a sonic boom," Barry suggested.

"The speed of sound is three hundred and thirty-two miles per second. It's unlikely."

Okay. Fine then. He took the black circle in his fingers and studied it. "I like the lightning bolt."

Francisco rolled his eyes and took it back. "That was Caitlin."

Caitlin herself strolled up. The wind tossed her pink-streaked braids and set her bright blue dress and man's trench coat flapping  She grinned at Francisco. "Are you complaining about my lightning bolt again?"

"It's pointless," he grumbled, yanking the helmet off Barry's head.

"It keeps it from being boring!"

"It doesn't need to be exciting, it just needs to work."

"It can work and not be boring," Caitlin said, pulling a gummy bear out of her pocket and popping it in her mouth. The three or four charm bracelets tangled around her wrist jingled.

He grumbled under his breath and took the helmet back to the table where Dr. Wells sat.

Caitlin rolled her eyes and muttered, "Stick in the mud." She turned back to Barry. "Okay. Let's get you synced up and see what you can do."

"You're a doctor?" he said doubtfully as she jabbed at the various sensors on his chest with purple-glittered nails, then tapped her tablet. "Like, really a doctor?"

"Nah, you got me. I printed my M.D. from the Internet." She ate another gummy bear. A stray sunbeam bounced off the pink sequined heart on the front of her dress and momentarily blinded him.

"Wait, what?"

"Yes. I'm a real doctor. School loans and everything."

"It's just that you're not - uh."

"Very professional-looking?" She flicked the pink-striped braid back over her shoulder. "Oh, I know. And I did spend a lot of years conforming. Pencil skirts, little pearl studs - " She shook her head so that the mess of metal that swung from her earlobes jingled cheerfully. "- neutral nail polish, that kind of thing."

"What happened?"

"The same thing that happened to you." She made a note in her tablet. "My once-promising career in bioengineering is over, my boss is in a wheelchair for life, and the explosion that put you in a coma also killed my fiancé. So, I figure I've got fuck-all to lose by wearing leggings with cats on them to work."

He glanced down automatically. Not only did her leggings have cats, they were also floating in outer space.

He looked back up, and she smirked at him. "Cute, huh?"

He smirked back. "Bet your co-worker over there loves that."

But instead of agreeing, she said, "Look, Cisco's kind of a stiff. I'll give you that. But he's the most brilliant, inventive mechanical genius you'll ever meet. Ever. And he's there when you need him."

Probably with a judgemental frown. Or a lecture. "Cisco? He said to call him Francisco."

"Yeah, you should probably stick to that for awhile, until he decides to let you in."

Barry looked over his shoulder at the scowling young man, working on his machines. "I'm not holding my breath."

"Give him some time. Let him warm up to you. In the meantime, don't push it."

Barry decided it was unlikely. "Do you think I can break the speed of sound?" It felt possible to him, with the lightning crackling in his blood.

"Tell you what,"  she called over her shoulder, already on the way back to the RV. Her heavy Doc Martens splashed through a puddle. "If you do, I'll give you a gummy bear."

When Cisco drifted into her lab, she didn't look up as she asked, "So, what do you think of our speedster?"

"So he runs fast. It's scientifically intriguing, but functionally pointless."

"You're just annoyed because the blowback landed you on your ass out there." She lifted her head and grinned at him.

He scowled at her in a way that as good as admitted she was right. "Really. What can he do with that ability?"

"What can't he do with it? He makes Usain Bolt look like a grandma in a walker. Fastest man alive!"

"This is real life, not a comic book."

"You could fool me, lately." She looked up. From this angle, she could see one of the "teeth" that curved over Star Labs, broken in half by the explosion nine months ago. "Maybe a superhero would have stopped this from happening."

She wanted to bite her own tongue off when she heard the words slip out. Wincing, she turned to look at Cisco.

He'd taken off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "We didn't need a superhero. We needed better engineers."

He always looked younger with his glasses off. She suspected that was why he wore them, and why he tied his hair back so tightly.

"Hey," she said. "How many times do I have to say it? That - " She gestured up at the broken tooth. " - was not your fault. Ronnie was not your fault."

"If I'd done better - if I'd made a different choice - you would still have him."

"Maybe," she acknowledged. "And if I hadn't asked him to come along, he wouldn't have been here that night. And if his mom had never flirted with his dad at the roller rink in high school, he wouldn't have been born."

Cisco gave her a long suffering look.  

"My point is, you can what-if until the cows come home, but this is the world we live in." She bit her lip, thinking of the engagement ring entombed in her jewelry box at home. But that hurt, a knot right under her breastbone, and she said, "Speaking of that, do you ever wonder about those cows? I mean, what are they doing out so late? Probably up to no good. Bovine delinquents."

Cisco's mouth quirked up at the corner, and she felt a flush of triumph. She didn't get a smile out of him very often. "Your shoe's untied," he said.

She glanced down. "Oh, yeah. I'll get them in a moment. I'm almost done with these samples." She didn't want to have to put on a new pair of sterile gloves after she'd handled her dirty shoelaces.

He nudged her wheely office chair over to her. "Put your foot up."

She raised her brows, but propped her foot on the seat. He leaned over, took her loose laces, and retied them. Double-knotted, of course. He gave the toe of her boot a quick pat and straightened up. "There," he said. "I imagine it's not very sterile to trip over your shoelaces and faceplant into your lab bench, either."

She settled her foot back on the floor, feeling a flush creep up her face. "Not particularly, no." She focused on her samples again.

When she had them all prepped and set up for the morning, she looked over at him. He was fiddling with her shelf of beakers, turning them all so they faced the same direction. "Hey," she said. "What are you thinking about?"

"Air friction," he said, brows drawn together in concentration.

Her hands paused. What had she thought he was going to say? I'm thinking about the way I look at you sometimes, when you don't think I notice? I'm wondering if you ever look at me that way?

(The answer was yes, but it wasn't an answer she was ready to give. Not yet.)

"Of course you are," she said, stripping her gloves off and chucking them toward the trash can. She started to put everything else away. "What else?"

"We clocked him at 220 miles per hour today. He only ran about a mile, but what if he does longer runs? The effect of air friction would be considerable."

Caitlin considered it as she hoisted herself up on the counter. She leaned over and pulled open a drawer, plucking out a mini Krackel bar. "His skin should be okay - he's got that healing factor - but his clothes, his shoes? Yeah, they'd be pretty thrashed, I'd say."

She unwrapped the chocolate bar and bit in half. With her mouth full, she rummaged through the drawer for a moment and then held out a piece of candy. Dark chocolate with almonds.

He started to tell her he didn't snack between meals. She knew it, she could hear the words practically gathering up on his tongue. But he took the candy bar and unwrapped it carefully, biting off the corner.

The only reason she didn't throw all the dark-chocolate-with-almonds away when she filled her chocolate stash was because they were his favorite. Weirdo, she thought fondly.

"Since you brought it up," she prompted. "I'm guessing you got something in mind for air friction?"

"I have been working on that heat-resistant material."

"The fire suit?"

"The fire suit."

She played with the wrapper from her candy bar. "Just for proof of concept, of course," she said innocently.

He shot her a look from behind his glasses, but before he could say anything, the door to the cortex thumped open and Barry's voice called out, "Guys? Hey, where is everyone?"

She called out, "In here!" and Barry appeared with two large boxes in his arms.

"Hey," he said. "You guys got some time to talk?"

"I was about to go home for the night," Cisco said coolly.

"But we can make the time," Caitlin said, giving him a warning look. He pushed his glasses up in a gesture of annoyance, but didn't argue.

"Great," Barry said, thumping both boxes down on the table and pulling files out. "I've been going over unsolved cases from the past nine months. There's been a sharp increase in unexplained deaths and missing people. . . ."

Caitlin listened as Barry explained what he wanted to do. Superhero, she thought. He wants to be a real-life superhero.

She looked across the table at Cisco. He had his arms folded tightly, his hands gripping the opposite elbows. His face looked blank as he stared down at the files scattered over the table. Unexplained deaths, missing persons, general weirdness. They all knew that Central City had gotten much weirder lately.

If all of them, or even some of them, were due to the particle accelerator explosion, then that was even more that they needed to atone for. But if Barry's idea panned out, maybe they could actually start on that instead of marinating in regrets.

"I can't do it without you," Barry finished up. He glanced at Caitlin, and then looked longer at Cisco.

When Cisco lifted his head, though, it wasn't to return Barry's gaze. Instead, he looked up at her. Anybody who didn't know him wouldn't have been able to see the mix of emotions bubbling in his eyes. Uncertainty, hope, wariness, excitement.

She knew him.

She tilted her head and raised her brows. He let out a little sigh and pressed his lips together. She smiled at him.

"If we're going to do this," he said slowly, as if the words were being pulled out of him, "I have something that might help."

FINIS

[sakuurae]

gaming antics [m]

summary: taeyong has been too distracted by his games lately so you decide to snap him out of it.

❀ pairing: gamer!taeyong & reader insert

❀ includes: smut (fingering, penetration, facial, oral)

❀ wc: 6k

❀ note: Im back! :’) With a new fic about my babe, Taeyong. Haha. I hope you guys like it!

Taeyong had always been an avid gamer.

He would spend hours on end smashing his thumbs all over the game controller while spitting curses to his frustrated friends through a small headset. Those hours sometimes ran into an entire day, and maybe he skipped out on catching a few winks of sleep—to put it short, he was in love with gaming. Since your friendship began with Taeyong you had known how much of a hardcore gamer he was—gaming was how the two of you bonded, so his love for the hobby never really bothered you to begin with.

Not until you started to date him a couple of months ago. He attempted to change his habits and shape himself into a decent boyfriend who could go on multiple dates with you whether they are small breakfast meetups or quick coffee runs. Those lasted for a good while, but he reverted to his original self soon afterwards, almost like the lively dates with you are not as fun as the silly shooter games he spends his life on. He reverted back to the game invested Taeyong—the one that spends more time staring at a flashing screen, furiously pressing on the loose buttons of his controler, than looking at his girlfriend.

You always attempted to talk to him while he took those short breaks. Usually he spent a good five to ten minutes getting water or catching a breath of fresh air outside, but he typically shrugged you off. This time you were going to take a different approach—a very distracting approach.

Two days ago you were lounging on the soft maroon couch in the living room of Taeyong’s stuffy apartment, mindlessly watching television as a simple pastime. It was like watching shows that were a bore would speed up the time in your boyfriend’s current game match. He was cooping himself inside his bedroom, door open since the start of the morning—he wasn’t even holding you when you woke up—and that was the final straw.

You left the apartment after munching on a small breakfast, freshened up and trailed out of his door for the sole purpose of finding something to distract Taeyong from his appalling screen. It was supposed to be a distraction—just enough—like his favorite snacks or two plain movie tickets. Though, you found something that caught your tired eyes way more—and something that would capture his own just as much.

As you walked down the sidewalk with the summer heat beating down on your exposed skin you realized you wanted to bide time. You were well aware that if you returned to Taeyong’s apartment he would still be active on his bed playing video games until the sun will set, so you sauntered the sidewalk, allowing you eyes to roam to familiar parts of the city. That was when you found something that caught your eye.

It was a dainty clothing store on the corner of the block; you never bothered to step one foot inside because the exterior of pastel pink always drew you away. But on that day, you wanted to do all you could to stall time away from Taeyong’s place—stall time from buying a distraction. So you entered.

The scent of perfume and artificial strawberries lingered in the air—far too strong for your liking and it caused your nose to scrunch. Its sweet particles stuck to the thin apparel whether it were to be chiffon or cotton. There was an array of multicolored dresses and folded pastel tees, each looking far too expensive for your simple taste, so you decided to venture deeper into the store. The colors started to vividly pop out more—become more vibrant—the saccharine scent increasing by the step. You allowed your hand to feel the fabric as you dragged it across the metal racks, hands dancing in the soft material. Though, all your movement ceased once you reached the back of the “innocent” clothing store.

Behind the racks and past the towering shelves laid out a not-so-innocent sight before your eyes. Instead of the appealing dresses that were spread throughout the store, charming customers by their pretty pinks and purples, they had a variety of… lingerie. From the purest of white, darkest of black, and deepest of red—each came in silk, satin, or lace. The store maintained its darling vibe, ribbons and bows also available on the shelves in the back, some even adorned the clothing unnecessarily. You gulped, perusing the revealing articles. Jeez, people might as well wear nothing. Though, the clothing did give you an evocative idea.

You considered purchasing one of them—any one of them—because each would appeal to your boyfriend’s eyes, you knew that all too well. Vivid scenarios of Taeyong ogling at your body made you vibrate in excitement; he would ache to place his hands on you and that was all you wanted. To have him strip you of the lace because it got into the way is an imagination that makes your core ache. Finally, you found the premier distraction from that stupid game console of his. You gave it another thought, wondering if you were making the right choice in impulsively purchasing your first set of lingerie. After a mild debate between white satin and black lace you decided to purchase the latter—the one with the arousing garter. You felt impatient, fingers rapidly tapping the counter in hopes that the cashier would speed up. Then, all of a sudden you felt a surge of excitement.

Excitement from what though? Taeyong’s long-awaited attention towards you, or the fact it would lead into something more?

You watched carefully as the cashier bagged your thin, arousing clothing—not the slightest judgement written on their face. They had probably seen more—and you used that fact to calm your nervous jitters. After the cashier finished bagging the revealing apparel with a bright grin, you paid, took the back, and zoomed out of the store.

You held the handle of the pastel pink paper bag close to you, a helpless yet hopeful smile blossoming on your face.

At the moment, you were laying on Taeyong’s couch again with the television flickering its scenic colors. You were dressed in one of his favorite sweatshirts, blue jeans snug around your waist. Oh, and the lingerie you purchased two days ago uncomfortably beneath the outwear. You had bought the lingerie to show it off, but the thing was Taeyong wasn’t giving any time for you to “show it off.” You became impatient, fingertips quickly tapping on the soft cushions of the sofa to zip through time.

“Babe!” you called out to him, irritated.

But there was no response.

You grumbled, petulant, and waited for a few seconds to see if he would respond with at least a loud hum, but there was nothing.

You groaned, “Taeyong!” You raised yourself from the comfort of the sofa with plans to move to his bed.

“Yeah? Give me a second,” he told you, rapid with his attention still deadlocked on the game.

You rolled your eyes and started to trudge down the hall, entering his bedroom with a stern frown. There were flames in your two orbs—flames that Taeyong couldn’t bother to see because he was so invested in gaining one, two, and many more kills within the match. You leaned against the doorframe of his bedroom, a look of annoyance painted on your expression. Your toes were tapping against the hard wooden floor, arms crossed like your fire was being fueled by heated disappointment.

“Okay, okay,” Taeyong let out. You cocked your eyebrow, surprised that he was actually paying attention to you and—

“Alright,” he spat into the microphone of that stupid headset of his, “yeah, I’m going to the west wall right now. Let’s go snipe the-”

“-Taeyong!” you exclaimed with a childish stomp.

The boom of your voice caught him by surprise, causing his body to jolt and fumble the controller out of his clammy palms. The anger that laced your tone swam in his ears and he didn’t bother to hide his character in a safe place within the rebarbative virtual reality, and looked at you with eyes of hesitance. “Y-yes?” he asks, unsure and innocent.

The bottom line: you were mad.

His room wreaked of musk and hints of sweat; thank gods his windows were cracked more than halfway open. Sunlight seeped into his room, lighting up the few fractions of darkness that would soon envelop the perimeter. The sun was setting, ready to fall asleep for the awakening moon. The scent made your nose scrunch—more than the time at the pretty pink store—and you began to walk to him.

You took notice of his appearance: his hair was damp from his recent shower, a loose white tee draped his muscular physique, and his lips were pursed into a pout as if that was his set expression. The frown on your face made him feel like he had committed all the wrong in the world, bottom lip beginning to quiver for he was not prepared to face your wrath.

The look of innocence in his eyes made your expression soften; it was almost impossible for you to express your anger towards your boyfriend. You sighed, and threaded fingers into your hair, grabbing onto his controller. “How do you pause the game?” you asked him, pressing all sorts of unfamiliar buttons on the controller.

“I- well, you can’t pause a live match,” he told you. His eyes trailed to the walls, muttered words of his friends being repeated in his ears, each inquired where he was and why he is idle. He opened his mouth to respond to them, but you took off his headset with care.

“Taeyong-” you tossed the headset to the side- “can you pay attention to me?”

Taeyong’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his throat, uneasy from the sight of you being… needy. For some reason it was an unexpected sight to Taeyong, something he cannot comprehend. He knew he had been neglecting you for quite some time, but he always assumed it wasn’t that much of a bother to you because you never acted upon it—not until now.

And that was when he realized what he might be doing something wrong.

“Um- sure,” he mumbled, head hanging low as if he was ashamed.

You smiled, a small hint of victory sketching on your face. “Great.”

The game blew a transparent black square to the screen, indicating that the match was over and his team had lost the match they once owned. “You know,” you began, “we haven’t hanged out in a while.”

You used the pad of your index finger to trail from his jawline down to his chin, tilting his head up to lock eyes with your own. Your two orbs were blown with a certain darkness. Lust, want—nothing else but need. Taeyong’s lips parted; no words left his mouth.

“You haven’t talked to me in a while,” you informed with a pout like his own. You rested your two hands on his shoulders, leaning lower by a few inches, and sailed them down his arms so you could grab onto his hands. With his large, sweaty palms in grasp you moved them to your waist, hoping he would get the idea of what you wanted: to have your imaginations come to life.

He was reluctant at first, fingers dancing at your waist as he ran through his jumbled thoughts, and finally he grasped you. “You haven’t touched me in a long time,” you said, voice withering into a whisper. It sounded like your words blended in with the air and the static of the silent speakers.

Taeyong stammered, “I- sorry.” He pulled you closer to him, regret from his actions dawning over him. “It’s just that the game, you know.”

“Is the game more important than me?” you questioned, pouty. “I’m your girlfriend.”

You sat on his lap, straddling his thighs, and he leaned back whilst slowly propping his arms on his mattress. “No…” he trailed off. “I’m sorry it seemed that way.”

You smiled like a vixen, implying the desires in such a simple expression. “You need to make it up to me.”

“With a date?” he inquired, thoughtful in the wrong way.

Your arms tangled with his neck, pulling yourself closer to his physique. You breath twisted with his own, hints of cold mint swirling with cherry candy. “A date?” you repeated, unsure yourself. “Sure,” you playfully giggled, “afterwards.”

“After what?” he asked.

“After this.”

You pressed your lips over his own, catching him entirely by surprise. His eyes widened as your lips danced to the melody of his pounding heartbeat; it did not take long for him to ease into the kiss, and soon, under your electric touch. You coasted your hand to his cheek, rubbing your thumb over his smooth skin before both of your bodies fell onto the soft mattress with a bounce. The kiss did not break—in fact, it deepened. His hands lingered in the air and hovered over your body while he shut his eyes, finding true pleasure in the heated kiss.

His grip found its home at your hips, a firm hold as he attempted to pull you lower over his crotch. You broke away from the desired osculation to catch a quick breath, eyes locking with his own briefly. You smiled at him lively. “What?” he mumbled, cocking an eyebrow upwards.

You were looking at him past the lush curtain of his lashes. “Nothing,” you assured. You pressed your lips into a thin line, patient for the long-awaited moment. You wanted Taeyong to slide his hands underneath your sweatshirt, palms grazing over the smooth of your waist until they meet the thin lace. You giggled to yourself; the thought of Taeyong’s reaction was sure to be risible.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” he commented while pulling you closer to him. “What are you laughing about?”

“You’ll find out,” you mumbled over the tender skin of his neck.

Taeyong merely laughed in response, continuing with the session. You peppered kisses on him, catching a whiff of his scent that appeared to be a swirl of cherry and hints of spice. He raked a hand through your locks, lightly tugging on them to catch your attention. “What are you planning?” he inquired.

“A surprise.” You grinned.

Taeyong’s grip tightened on your hips and he used the open chance to flip both him and you over. His head was directly above your own now, body parallel from yours. Your hair splayed out perfectly on the sheets, surprise in your eyes from his unexpected action. He kissed you again; this time it was more messy, sloppy—almost as if his patience ran thin.

You moaned into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut as his hands start to linger at the waistband. His palms slid up your body and back down—a simple tease before he sneaked them under the sweatshirt. Majority of Taeyong’s attention was focused into the kiss, feeling the enlivening sensation that he had not felt in quite some time; well, until he felt another fine layer of clothing adorning your body. His eyebrows furrowed together out of confusion as he rubbed circles onto the exquisite fabric, mind slowly placing two and two together.

Once the light bulb flickered on in his mind he broke the kiss within a heartbeat, a puzzled expression awaiting you. It took once glance at your face that now tinged with pink, your eyes looking everywhere but his own, for him to realize it. “Did you go shopping recently?” he asked you with joy.

You nodded your head; it took every fiber of your being to bite back a smile.

“Shopping for me?” he added, pinching onto your lace covered skin. “Is this my surprise?”

“Mhm,” you confirmed, hand playing with the nape of his neck.

“Mind if I see?” he queried, already hiking the sweatshirt up on his wrists. He moved slowly and with care, almost as if you were as fragile as glass itself, until you graced him with a small shake of your head.

He grinned, pecking onto your nose before he raised himself from you. Both of his arms grabbed a hold of his sweatshirt that you looked comfortably clad in and he soon lifted it above your head, tossing it to the side as if it had no value whatsoever. His gaze fell back on you and the lingerie you bought, glints of surprise and excitement twinkling in his eyes. “Whoa,” he said with a shaky breath.

Taeyong gulped, face flushed with the deepest shade of cherry as he took in your dashing appearance. The lace you chose appeared so delicate; he felt as if it would tear with his light touch. A few ribbons crossed over your chest, some on the side to keep the revealing apparel together, and Taeyong felt an urge to tug on the bows to reveal your whole body. His gaze casted downwards by the inch, almost as if he was perusing the intricate patterned lace on your physique. Then, the fun came to an abrupt halt when he noticed that your jeans covered the rest of the tantalizing surprise.

His fingers immediately began to toy with the button and zipper of your jeans, gaining a sudden rush to rid yourself of the article that was fueled by desperation. You lifted your hips off the mattress, aiding his process of tugging your jeans off your legs and tossing them to the side. You moved your body to the center of his bed, sheets resting directly underneath your barely naked body like a royal cushion. “Holy shit,” he muttered, absolutely astonished.

You enjoyed the way he was gawking at you; it was a moment that had not occurred in a while, and it felt amazing to have his attention. You fixed the free strands of your hair, moving them into place while he remained uneasy. His pants was suddenly growing tighter; his large member was becoming hard, increasing in its size within the confinements of his jeans. His mouth was agape, eyes blown wide from the shock caused by you.

The thin lace barely rested around your waist, dainty fabric dangling barely to cover your womanhood. A silk onyx ribbon trailed from the lingerie’s corset down over the curvature of your ass, soon connecting with the garter to hold up the stockings.

He began to make his way towards you again, movements desultory as he crawled on his bed to have himself on top of you again. His palm snaked around your waist as he sneaked a peek at the valley of your breasts, mouth watering at the elegant sight. “You look perfect,” he told you, loving the lace that adorned your body.

“I bought it for you,” you whispered, tilting his chin up so you could meet his eyes.

Taeyong grinned and placed a soft kiss on your shoulder. The moment proceeded when you mimicked the same movements he did: you slid your hands underneath the flimsy white tee of his, lifting it over his head to strip him of the pesky article. His toned body was revealed within an instant: the gorgeous shade of his skin, brief outline of incoming abs—it was all flawless, and, to be honest, it made you crave for more.

“It might be ruined in a moment,” he told you, voice low to an agitating whisper. Taeyong hooked a finger under the thin lace, toying with it momentarily as his eyes perused the splendor that was your breasts. He appeared reluctant and as if he was waiting for your cue to continue; whether or not he should rip the lace off your frame or not.

Though, once you and Taeyong lock gazes that filled to the brim of voracity his two palms slid under the only openings of the lingerie, hiking it on his wrists as he came closer to your chest. The ribbons ran taut, stretching from Taeyong’s relentless movement, and soon Taeyong undid the bows, the zip of the ribbon coming undone the only noise that was audible alongside your steady breath.

Taeyong struggled for a few seconds, the rising inclination of excitement kindling his flame of fervor. He needed to taste you—now. And so he kept it loosely wrapped around your body, enough for the soft material to slide off with further movement, and his mouth instantly attached itself onto your erecting nipple. His hands were playing with the underside of your breasts, giving them frequent squeezes and showing them with enough love—the love that appeared to be missed.

His hands appeared to work magic on your body; whether they were feather-light touches on your thigh or cursory kisses of passion. With the pleasure of him as a whole, you coaxed under his touch; and soon, you were the one who wanted to taste him.

Taeyong gave your breasts a tight squeeze, massaging them in a perfect circle as he took a slight breath. Your fingers sailed to the sheets and twisted the thin layers into a whirl, head sinking deeper into the lush pillows on his bed. You inhaled a sharp breath, the moan silenced by the heavy air until he took one of your hard buds into his teeth, grazing it with zeal.

“Ah, T-Taeyong…” you uttered, eyes clamping shut.

You felt him smirk onto your skin, the music that was your lust-infused voice bring him to his own edge. One of his hands devotedly snaked down your torso and slid right under the lingerie with ease. You loosened your grasp and peeled the remnants of the light material off your skin to give more room to Taeyong and his expert actions.

Two of his digits slid up and down your soaking womanhood, your clit in between the diminutive gap. You gasped, mind turning into a daze and vision beginning to blur. Rather than struggling, you allowed yourself to become lost in the sensation that Taeyong was graciously providing you with. It did not take long for him to slide one digit into your core—merely testing the waters—before he continued with three slow pumps. On the fourth his digit pulled out to the tip and, with much skill, he prodded a second finger.

Your hand flew to your mouth to shield a cry; the enticing sensation of your boyfriend’s mouth and fingers working wonders on your body was overwhelming in every sense. His digits drove in and out of you with desire and excitement, sometimes curling in the most mesmeric way possible. He lifted himself off of you, eyes giving the signal of captivation by the image of you beneath him. Sweat was starting to accumulate on your forehead, much like his own, and you were a panting mess from the work of his expert digits alone.

You propped yourself on your elbows with the last fragments of your strength, heavy eyelids that felt like they have been locked for eons struggling to open themselves to your boyfriend. His fingers were still onset to bring you the your high heaven, and an impermanent look of his digits driving into you made an eruption of a delightful heat burst within your chest.

You felt yourself coming close to the edge: your mind was a whirlwind and breaths extremely unsteady. There was a tauten feeling in your stomach, almost as if your insides were twisting together the further the moment escalated. “Taeyong,” you breathed, “I-I’m getting close.”

He cocked an eyebrow upwards. “Are you?” he asked friskily. The devilish grin that crossed his face made you doubt the intent behind his words, almost as if there was something malicious twinging within.

You took too long to respond to him—both his impatience and your own rant thin—and he slipped his fingers out of you and popped the digits into his mouth. He made sure to lock eyes with you as his tongue peeped out of his doll-like lips, the wet muscle swirling around his own fingers that were coated with your need. Taeyong found contentment and satisfaction from your divine taste; he can no longer fight the compulsion that was being drawn from between his thighs.

He took off his pants, along with his briefs, quickly and they soon met the floor. His solid member sprung against his lower abdomen, the tip of his cock an angry red and leaking with his own desire. It was enthralling to you: finally seeing your boyfriend in his whole glory after months. You attempted to pull yourself off your position on his bed, eager to take his impressive length into your mouth for a fraction of the savor, but he presses you back down to the bed.

“You seem to want a taste,” he commented lewdly.

You nodded your head, desperation present in your veins. “I do…” you admitted. There was something explicitly raunchy behind your two simple words, for they confirmed Taeyong’s assumptions and caused a thousand of hopeful, impure imaginations to rise in his mind.

“You can wait, right?” he asked, feigning uncertainty. An idea crossed his thought clouds; he wanted to see how far he can push it. And your desperation aided it more than you ever would have thought.

You shook your head like an angered child. “No, I… I want a taste now.”

Taeyong chuckled, a rhapsody to your ears, as he wrapped his hand around his hard dick slowly. He started from the base and dragged up his grip with gentle care, and then allowed his thumb to circle over his leaking slit to spread the stickiness around his head. He jerked off his aching member slowly, preparing himself for the main course. You watched with the opposite of delight, pouty and hopeless; that was, until you felt the tip of his dick run up your soaked core and back down—a succulent tease.

You swallowed your breath, eyes downcasted to his cock as you awaited for the impact. Slowly but surely, Taeyong slid himself inside of you. “You’ll still get a taste,” he muttered, almost incomprehensible.

You were about to question his comment; that was until he filled you with his cock, delectation rising soon afterwards. You spat a curse or two from the sensation, the pleasure carrying up your body in light tingles. Taeyong kept himself propped up above you with his elbows on either side of your body, his head hanging low from the pleasure, also, being too much for him to handle. He had held himself back for so long within the duration of your arrival—and it was even harder with the lasting image of you dressed in extravagant lace invading his mind. To be inside of you once more was a feeling he had not felt for a while—just as much as you—and it felt like a seventh heaven to be reunited with one of the wonders in the world.

He began to thrust in and out of you with a steady pace, fear of moving with recklessness and haste, but with enough energy to keep your senses keen. Your mind already felt as if it has hit the highest state of a euphoric excitement, but Taeyong appeared to push you further. It was an absolute frenzy to have him drive his wanted cock in and out of you; each of your flames were being kindled with elation, raptures of delight soon to occur.

His sweat started to drip from his temples, the pearls falling onto your own exposed, perspiration-coated skin. A look of raw jubilancy was sketched all over his face, much like your own, and you then allowed yourself to dive into the needed feeling. You shut your eyes and allowed Taeyong to work his charm.

His member, without effort, slid into you all the way and filled you to the brim, and slipped out of your womanhood to the raging tip of his cock. The feeling of elation extended, but it wasn’t enough for you to release—yet. The slow process continued for a good few minutes, then there was a brief pause. The head of his dick remained rested at your entrance for quite some time, almost as if he faced a mild war in his mind—nonetheless, he rammed back into you. This time, with an angry force.

The impact of his cock ramming inside of your pussy sent you a few more inches higher on the bed; a loud, luscious moan ripped from your throat as well. Taeyong smiled as if he had won the grand prize, and repeated the same awaited action. Thus, he earned the same response; alongside, your cries for your boyfriend only raised its volume. Every second with Taeyong moving inside of you was absolutely thrilling, and he added onto the perfect delectation by pressing his lips to your neck. He sucked marks of love onto your skin, almost like each one was a silent apology about his behavior. It did not take long for your skin to become a masterpiece of crimson and violet hues—created by yours truly, Taeyong.

“T-Taeyong,” you uttered, barely. “I really- agh- am g-getting… ah!”

Taeyong only smirked at your inability to form sentences, your mind far too jumbled in its own bliss to think coherently. He thrusted himself into you harder, faster, reaching his own release with yours. “Do you need to come?” he asked you.

You nodded your head frantically, desperately without words, and the reacted with one last austere thrust. His tip was at your soaked hole and he took a deep breath before his hips harshly rolled back into you. You cried, delighted, and it sounded as if you attempted to scream out his name—but you just could not.

That was the final piece of the puzzle to complete the moment; you hit the fervent cloud nine, mind transported into the wild fantasy that reached your body as well. Your hands clawed at the sheets and flew around Taeyong’s body. His body gained light scratches and your arms looped around his neck as you held onto him for dear life.

As your mind remained in its heaven you felt yourself spill each fraction of your need all over your pussy. Taeyong slowed down his thrusts and moved with fragility to aid you until your mind came back to earth, and that your body returned to reality. The extended moan that emitted from your mouth swam in his ears; and he absolutely loved it.

It took a few more smooth, secure rolls of his hips for you to return. Your chest was heaving for air, baby hairs sticking to your sweat coated forehead—you looked completely fucked out, and he loved it enough to tuck the picture in the depths of his memory.

Taeyong fluidly pulled out of you, solid member rested in between the gap of his thumb and forefinger as he steadied his new position. He shifted himself above you, legs inching on the bed closer to your head and you felt the crimson tip of his length hit the bottom of your chin. You raised yourself, head tilting upwards and mouth falling wide open once you catch onto your boyfriend’s provocative actions. You fluttered your serene eyelids open, vision hazy as you attempted to focus.

The last image you caught of Taeyong, prior to him spilling his load inside of your mouth, is a devil-like smirk that played with his lips. He jerked his wrist quickly a few times, grip tightening around his aching length with every pump up and compact slide downwards. “Agh,” he groaned, eyebrows furrowing themselves together.  “Open up,” he demanded. “Y-you said you wanted a taste, right?”

Sweat proceeded to drip down his temples; his skin became damp from the entire session. He steadied his leaking cock by your mouth, eyes barely able to keep themselves open as he attempted to watch you swallow him and his load.

“Ah,” you voiced, impatient.

Taeyong hushed you by sliding the head of his hard dick over your petal-like lips, the tip resting at the edge of your parting. Completely aware of what you wanted, he stopped pumping himself to let you take over. He barely had a hold of his own cock that twinged; within moments, he emptied his cum inside of your mouth.

It came in spurts, the splashing ivory and milky texture; it coated your mouth and gained a thick layer over your tongue that then bathed in the salty wetness. Everything became messy: some landed on your chin and dripped down to your neck, a few drops even fell down your cheeks. He moved away for a split second; though, a split second was all you needed to swallow what he emptied inside of your cavern before you reached your head over to his cock once more. You took the tip in your mouth, tongue swirling around the sensitive head and tongue flicking over the salty slit. Your taste buds were met with a burst of saltine as you milked him dry and relished in the exquisite taste that came from his need.

“F-fuck,” he uttered, his head throwing back. His eyes clamped shut from the light contact of your lips around his sensitive member, a groan lodging in his chest.

Taeyong’s hands flew to your hair once more to give it a few gentle tugs. “B-baby, I- stop, I’m too sensitive-”

With one last dip to the base, your nose hitting his lower abdomen, Taeyong bent over and released a miniature cry—one that was a clear signal that this moment alone was far too much for him to handle.

You released him with a pop, a bright grin gracing your face as you licked the outline of your lips slowly; your half-open eyes locked with his that are completely clouded, both minds in a grey daze of raw lust. Taeyong gulped, unsure of what to say. The way you looked beneath him was an image he would love to etch in the quilt of his memory—and so he did. Your tongue peeked out from your mouth to lick the remnants of his wetness, and it was quickly followed up with two of your fingers swiping over the dribbles that remained on your face. You eyed the pearl-like stickiness for a heartbeat right before you slid your two digits in your mouth, delighted by the sensation.

“S-shit,” he cursed. “You look so hot doing that, baby.”

Taeyong lowered himself next to you, being completely drained. He planted a kiss on your forehead, fragments of fatigue already creeping back to his body. You turned your body to face him, love replacing the lust that was once limpid in your own two orbs. You grabbed onto his hand and gained a firm grasp that he tried to return back. You kissed his nose softly. “What about that date you wanted to go on afterwards?” you asked him, sweat-coated limbs already tangling with his own.

“We can do it later—when I wake up from a nap, probably,” he informed you. “I want to be there when you’re picking out lingerie.”

“Oh?” You cocked an eyebrow up, voice raising into a childlike excitement. “You liked what you saw?”

Taeyong smirked. “I always like what I see.”

“More than your game?” you questioned, forehead touching his own.

He paused, humming in thought. “I’d miss out on a lot if I fell in love with my video games.”

You rolled your eyes. “You act like you’re not in love with them now. I had to find a distraction.”

“But I love you more,” he pressed, holding your hand tighter, “and if it means for things like… today to happen again, then you should know my choice.”

“So…” you trailed off, another idea surfacing in your mind. “How does tomorrow sound?”