#title lifted from Ladder Song by Bright Eyes

[caladblog]

this whole life’s a hallucination

Captain Isabel Lovelace has a chat with the dead, shortly after she's left that land for the third time.

Plus, Aperture Futuristics, everyone murdering everyone else, magical girl transformation sequences on LSD, communal blood, and the embarrassing thing that happened at your junior prom.

[Big-ass spoilers for basically everything through Episode 46: Boléro. I fudged the end of the episode a little because you're not my real dad.

This fic is brought to you by Variations on a Theme, my personal philosophy on identity/reality, and me being super gay. Please consider supporting these sponsors on Patreon

Only two months til it gets jossed! *pops champagne*]

The thing in the body bag writhes.

No.

Lovelace, in the body bag, writhes.

This is the tableau for a solid thirty seconds, set in the U.S.S. Hephaestus's picturesque cargo bay: A captain who was shot in the head roughly ten hours ago seizes and coughs, wrestling motion and consciousness from the early stages of rigor mortis. Nearest to her, drifting closer, a communications officer stares blankly. Opposite side, drifting further away, a man who makes things that break other things also stares blankly. Perpendicular to them and several feet away, a recently-usurped colonel presents his handcuffed wrists with a pleasant smile that never reaches his eyes, watching, sharklike, the final person present in this scene. Nearest to the door, a sometimes-lieutenant sometimes-commander looks back at him, clutching her handgun like it's the only thing in the universe that still makes sense (which it very well could be).

Compulsory musical accompaniment: Boléro weaving in and out with static as an autopilot/mother program struggles for control of the station. This might be easier if she knew the specifics of what she was struggling against, but, then again, maybe not.

In media res. Diabolus ex machina. Ready to begin?

(Your answer to that question is irrelevant.)

Hera silences the overture with a synthetic gasp and several things snap at once.

Jacobi scrambles backward as effectively as he can with his hands and feet chained together, mumbling a crescendo of "what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck Colonel what the fuck--"

Kepler ignores him in favor of jangling the handcuffs and saying sweetly, "Limited time offer, Commander. It's in everyone's best interests if you take it. Just think: all the answers you've wanted, all the answers you've killed for--"

Minkowski clicks the safety off and takes aim at his center mass, nerves drawn taut as a bowstring, shouting, "For once in your miserable life, shut your god damned mouth--"

All of this leaves Eiffel the only one left watching the-- Lovelace. Her movements are less epileptic now, more... deliberate, waves of tension rolling down her body as muscles contract and relax in rhythm. Her breathing is still too deep, too harsh, but even that's starting to smooth out. He's close enough to see her pulse through the thin skin of her throat, rapid but steady, and as everyone else yells in the background she begins to settle. Not limp, but at ease. Not dead, but unconscious. And then her head turns a little and she frowns and mutters something inaudible, incoherent, almost like she's... having a bad dream.

"I think she's waking up," he says haltingly, freezing Jacobi and Minkowski in place.

"It, Officer Eiffel," Kepler corrects without looking, calm as ever.

Minkowski lunges forward and jams her gun against his mouth and snarls, "I told you to shut up. Do it before I make you."

Kepler holds up his hands in surrender. "But of course, sir. Working with zero information is a... unique command choice, but if sir has made a decision, I can but follow sir's wisdom."

She swallows and her gun falters for a moment, but her eyes never leave Kepler's face. "Eiffel, what's-- what's going on?"

"How in the three hundred and fifty-nine circles of hell am I supposed to know?!" he all but shrieks.

"You're not-- You don't--" Hera says, barely intelligible through the glitches and echoes. "You don't come back! You don't do that! You don't--"

"Hera!" Minkowski snaps. "Focus on keeping us in orbit. We'll-- We'll figure this out and keep you updated. Eiffel!" He startles and glances up at her, sees the way she's desperately trying to hold herself together. Her voice sinks into familiar biting sarcasm. "You could start by observing and then communicating your observations, unless it's too much to ask for you to carry out your basic job description--"

"She's--" He has to clear his throat. God, his hands are shaking so bad. "Like she's asleep, but... restless? Moving around a bit. Breathing normally. I think she--" and then his voice cuts off in a yelp as Lovelace's eyes fly open and she jerks upright, struggling out of the body bag.

Utter silence. She swivels around, taking in the cargo bay, glazing right over their faces without actually seeing a single one, and the brief flashes of her expression are just-- confused, pained, frantic, afraid, and all Eiffel can think of is the way she looked at him, chained in the armory of the Urania at his side with Kepler's gun pressed to her forehead. Wide eyes, but calm. Settled. The look of someone who's finally stopped running. She never got her revenge but she got her peace and now she doesn't even have that.

"Captain Lovelace...?" he whispers.

She jolts, meets his gaze for the briefest second, then turns away from him sharply and zeroes in on the gun in Minkowski's hands. "What in the..." Her voice is shaky, rough, but distinctly hers. "Fourier, what are you-- Why aren't you working on the-- Where is the-- Where am I? What just..."

"Lovelace!" Minkowski barks, clearly terrified, falling back on protocol as she always does when she doesn't know what else to do. "Get your head together!"

"Oh, now that's just insensitive," Kepler murmurs, and Minkowski actually pistol-whips him, the sharp crack of metal against jawbone doing nothing to fracture his obnoxiously congenial attitude.

"We need your help, Lovelace, wake up, we need you with us--"

"Where else am I going to be? Don't you take that tone with me, Fourier, I am still your commanding officer despite--" Lovelace cuts herself off, scanning the room rapidly once more, and the naked fear in her eyes tells Eiffel that she isn't... she isn't entirely here. "The hostages. Who...? Why are you, but I'm not-- I'll be right back."

And with that she's through the hatch, off like a shot. Minkowski jerks her head in the same direction. "Go after her! I've got these two."

He nods once and shoves himself through the hatch and calls, "Captain! Captain, wait!"

She doesn't, but the words freeze her for a split second, and that's all he needs to nearly catch up.

"You're not Sam," Lovelace says under her breath, brusque, tense, moving at a rapid clip down the hallway to the armory. "I don't have time for you. Fourier and Selberg are working triple overtime to finish the shuttle and you're not going to make me curl up in my bunk and cry like a little girl. If you were really Sam you wouldn't be trying this, you wouldn't be trying to weaken me like this. There's shit to get done, Sam. You can haunt me when we're all back on Earth so until then you stay out of my way and you stay out of my head." Her voice cracks under the strain. "If you were really Sam you'd be proud of the way I'm handling this. Staying focused, staying in control. Not checking out like I did when Fisher..."

A deep, ragged breath instead of an end to the sentence. The armory's hatch doesn't budge under her hands and she frowns at it. "Rhea, what kind of game are you playing? Open the door."

"I can't let you do that, Dave," he says, and it's really, really not funny. "Hera, lock down the armory. As securely as possible."

"Already done, Officer Eiffel." Subdued. Businesslike. She's... well, processing, for lack of a less punny word. No fight-or-flight to drown out her ability to productively think about what the hell just happened, no adrenaline making things messy. Eiffel can taste it, coppery on his tongue, his heart trying to pound its way out of his ribcage.

"Rhea, what is this? Rhea!" Lovelace hauls back and punches the armory as hard as possible, a deep, resounding clang that makes him jump, and then once more with a faint sickening crunch underneath, and there's blood on her knuckles, and she turns around and leans against the door with her eyes closed and an almost beatific look on her face.

"Oh. That's right," she says serenely. "Command took you too. Not in cruelty, not in wrath/The Reaper came that day. You liked Longfellow. I just liked Portal. Remember when I called you a companion cube and then the hot water just coincidentally crapped out every time I tried to shower for a week? I meant it as a compliment, Rhea! Mostly. A devil visited this gray path/And took the cube away and they took everyone else too and now I can't even get a door to work."

Eiffel moves close, afraid to actually touch her and take her by surprise. Unarmed, injured, recently dead, and he still has no doubts about who would come out on top in a fight. This... this weirdly candid way she's speaking, this otherworldly calm, though, is scarier than anything she's ever done. "Captain Lovelace...?"

"You're not Sam," Lovelace laughs, almost a sob. "Sam died too quickly to leave a trace. It came on in the middle of the night, and by the time Rhea got us awake you were twitching in a pool of your own--" She sobs, almost a choke. "Selberg tried his best, but when you've lost that much blood there's no bouncing back. All he could do in the end was try to make you comfortable." She chokes, almost a laugh. "Isn't that what we always tell people? We made him comfortable. It was quick. There was no pain, no fear. But I know that no matter what, there is always time for pain and fear. You know that too, now, don't you? I swore to myself after Fisher died that none of you would ever know that, and now all of you do."

Eiffel leans against the opposite wall and says, very quietly, "That's a promise that nobody can keep, Captain."

"You're not Sam," Lovelace whispers, eyes still shut, "but it's good to see you anyway, Sam. Can I talk to you for just a minute, Sam? I know you're not here, I know you'd disapprove if you were, but I promise I'll go back to my post in a minute, I will, Sam, I'm just so tired." She huffs out a weak attempt at a laugh. "Do you remember that one time Fisher and Fourier and I actually managed to con you into playing strip poker with us? See, most guys I would accuse of losing on purpose, but I think you are actually just that bad at cards. Two rounds, was it? three? before your scrawny ass was chewing us all out about codes of conduct this and dangerously unprofessional attitudes that and not an approved team-building exercise whatever, in nothing but regulation underwear and a single sock. I'll never forget the color you turned when I laid down my hand and told you to finish the job. You ran away, Sam, probably the first time in your life you'd ever defied a direct order. It was fucking hilarious. Didn't even take your clothes, just left them in the cargo bay. I don't think I've laughed that hard since."

They breathe in silence for a very long moment.

Lovelace opens her eyes, slowly, like it takes every ounce of energy she possesses, and she focuses on his face. Actually seeing him, not just looking through him. "Officer Eiffel," she says, calm and formal and resigned. "So you've come to haunt me, too? I'm afraid you'll have to get in line."

"I'm not--" He frowns. "Captain, I'm here."

"The shuttle exploded, Eiffel. Even if Minkowski and Hera weren't lying about radio contact with you after the bomb went off, it still pushed you out into deep space." Another weak laugh. "I pushed you out into deep space. It's been... months? A year? If I didn't kill you, I let you die, and that's even worse."

"You didn't, though. I survived the explosion. I survived what came after it, too." Her expression crumples, and Eiffel continues quickly, "I mean, I'm not gonna sugarcoat it, I christened it the good ship Horrible Unending Nightmare for a reason, and like... the nightmares haven't ended but the Nightmare did, y'know? It's over. A tiny speck of radioactive space junk, floating in the void. I have fingernails again, and my hair grew back, and sometimes I can wake up in the morning without tasting cryo in the back of my throat! And all of that's because I'm alive." He takes a deep breath. "And I'm alive, in part, because of you."

"What?" So small and strangled it's barely a word.

"Jesus, Captain, what do you think kept me going all those whatever-hundred days?" A bit of a humorless laugh. "Something goes horribly wrong and it's Minkowski reciting Pryce & goddamn Carter in my head. I'm staring down the barrel of one hundred days of food and six thousand years of distance and you're there telling me to quit whining and survive already. Every time I wanted to give up, and it was, it was, it was a lot of times, I'd think of you and Minkowski and Hera holding things together with sheer stubbornness, and I'd think of the person you guys deserve to have out here with you, and I'd try to get within a light year of being that person. And it worked. I'm not dead."

He stretches a hand across the corridor, and she stares at it for a long second, and she reaches out cautious and trembling, and she gives a tiny sob and seizes it tight when their skin makes contact.

"You're not dead," Lovelace chokes out, gripping his hand even tighter, and wow okay semi-heroic speeches aside he hasn't magically stopped being a wimp and this is really starting to hurt. "Oh, God, that's right, you're not dead. We thought you were for months and there was no contact from Command and then you stepped out of the Douchebag Express looking like a fucking skeleton but you weren't and there's-- there's SI-5 and secrecy again and paranoia again and planning again and something went wrong, it went really wrong, Kepler was going to shoot you, Kepler-- he-- I--"

"I would love to fill you in on the details, Captain," Eiffel says with only the slightest manliest hint of strain, "the very second you stop grinding my bones to make your bread."

She laughs at that, nearly manic, and lets go of him to fold her arms over her chest. He rubs his palms together, casually stretching the one she crushed.

"Okay. Um. I'm not really sure how to say this, so, kind of stalling to be honest. Hera, can we get a quick status update?"

"Turbulence appears to have settled down for now," she says, sounding a bit more like herself. "Nothing else is really... happening? Commander Minkowski's still got a gun on Kepler and Kepler's still got his stupid smile and Jacobi kind of... looks like he's about to throw up, maybe. I'm pretty sure that's the face he's making? He's really hard to read."

Lovelace's expression snaps into focus. "Wait, where's Maxwell? She's the most dangerous--"

"Yyyeah." Eiffel hunches his shoulders. "Not... not anymore."

"Oh." She closes her eyes briefly. "I know you didn't want anyone to die, but--"

"It's--" a heavy swallow-- "fine, Captain."

She gives him a look, but lets the subject drop. "Anyone else?"

"Hilbert."

Lovelace blinks. "That man's a cockroach. Are you sure he's dead?"

"Well, Jacobi got to him with explosives and kept the comms open, so, yeah, we're pretty goddamn sure."

"God." She scrubs at the back of her neck. "This is... Please don't take this the wrong way, or tell anyone else, but I sort of... lose time, every now and then? But this is a lot of time. It's never been more than an hour before, I don't think, but now-- The last thing I remember is being chained up in the Urania's armory, and then I think I was in the Hephaestus cargo bay but everything's so hazy until a couple minutes ago when you were talking about the shuttle. What, um, what happened?"

Eiffel clears his throat and looks down at the floor. "Okay. Previously on the Mutiny Fuckup Power Hour: We get taken hostage by Jacobi and brought to Kepler in the Urania's armory. Maxwell messes with Hera and forces her to tell them Minkowski and Hilbert's position, but Hera manages to warn them and they get away from Jacobi into the air vents. Guess all that plant monster hunting was good for something, eh? They split up--Minkowski goes after Maxwell in the bridge, Hilbert goes after the napalm. Minkowski takes Maxwell hostage. Hilbert is... not so successful. They... they had the room bugged, and they knew about everything, and Jacobi packed the floor full of C-4 with a remote detonator. He wants Maxwell's release in exchange for Hilbert's life. Minkowski doesn't budge. Jacobi blows up Hilbert. Minkowski shoots Maxwell. Kepler demands her surrender. Minkowski and Hera put the ship in a decaying orbit. Kepler gives up because, crazy as he is, I guess he's not suicidal. So, uh, there we are. Bad guys handcuffed in the cargo bay. Good guys won. Yippee."

"Hm." She stares off into space for a short while, then looks back at him with a small frown. "You're leaving something out. Where was I during all this? Still with you and Kepler in the Urania's armory?"

"...Yeeeeees? Yes. That is where you were."

Lovelace narrows her eyes. "Officer Eiffel you are the worst liar I have ever met and I worked with Lambert for chrissakes. Tell me the truth."

"I did!" He hunches his shoulders even further.

"Eiffel..." she says warningly. When he doesn't respond, she cocks her head to the side. "Okay, then. What was I doing? What was I saying?"

"Um, a lot of really cool and badass stuff that made Kepler cry?"

"Eiffel I swear to God I will get a real answer if I have to rip it out of you with my bare hands--"

"Nothing, okay? You were doing nothing." He buries his face in his hands. "You were doing nothing because you got shot. That's why Minkowski took the napalm route. Kepler shot you and gave her an ultimatum."

"Wait, what?" Lovelace looks down at herself. "Where? I feel fine."

"Okay, I'm gonna need you to be really calm, and openminded, because I am absolutely telling the truth this time even though it sounds completely crazy--"

"Eiffel!"

"In the head. Point blank. I was right there." He screws his eyes shut. When nothing happens, he cracks them back open to see Lovelace staring at him flatly.

"That's not possible."

"Yeah, well, you know what else isn't possible?" he says with a bitter laugh. "Sentient plants forming their own religion. A red dwarf up and turning blue. Friggin' aliens beaming out classical music whenever they're not busy copying people's voices and memories. This star does nothing but redefine 'possible'."

"No, no, you must've... seen something different. There's no way I could--" Her voice cuts off abruptly, and he has to watch the horrified realization settle over her face.

"Yep." Eiffel tips his head back against the wall. "You were dead, Captain Lovelace, for hours. I got a... body bag out of the lab, put you in it myself. That's why we were all in the cargo bay. For your funeral. And then, ten minutes ago, you started gasping for breath. Kepler knows all about it, apparently, because of course he does."

There's a hand clamped over her mouth, and she's shaking her head slowly, and her eyes are wide and terrified. "No. You're wrong. I'm-- I'm normal. I feel normal. I've been back on the Hephaestus for two years, there's no way I could be--"

He shrugs and looks away. "The Jacobi outside the craft that one time sure sounded like he felt normal."

A sharp intake of breath. "Oh, God, you're right. You're being honest, God, I'm not even real--"

"No! No, stop that, that's not the point." Eiffel's eyes flick back to her, and he almost looks angry. "We already just lost you, we're not going to lose you again."

"If what you're saying is true, you never had me in the first place!" A little hysterical laugh bubbles up. "I-- Lovelace probably did die in the star, and then the--God, this is ridiculous--the aliens spat me back out for whatever goddamn reason. You've never even met Lovelace."

"I've met you." The tension makes him jittery. Every word has the potential to blow up in his face and he's never been good at this. "No matter what the hell Kepler says, you're-- I've been thinking, well, I am thinking right now because this is all happening really fast and it's just that-- You. The person three feet away from me. I met you when you stepped off your terrible duct-tape shuttle already planning eight steps ahead of the rest of us. When you were putting a ship made of cannibalized space station and righteous fury back together and making it work. When you were telling horrible jokes, and saving my life, and saving Minkowski's life. Beating Kepler at his own game. Keeping calm through every stupid crisis that pops up on this useless tin can. Whether you were born on Earth or space-Xeroxed two years ago doesn't matter. I know you."

"Nice speech and all, but you can't just--" Lovelace makes a frustrated abortive gesture before falling back, all her fear suddenly drained into exhaustion. "You have to be wondering why I'm here. Why they'd go through all the trouble of putting me together, putting my shuttle together, pushing me back to the Hephaestus. Sticking me in your midst while they've got this, this contact event thing planned. I doubt I'm meant to be a peace offering."

"Yeah, okay, it's suspicious." He fists his hands in his hair. "Maybe you're some... alien sleeper agent, and when the contact event happens you'll go full Winter Soldier on our asses. But you know what else? Maybe Kepler and Jacobi will get free somehow, shoot us all, and book it out of here on the Urania's secret luxury escape pod. Or maybe Minkowski will finally snap and Here's Johnny her way around the station til she accidentally chops through the hull. Or maybe Maxwell left some virus buried in Hera's code that'll turn her into GLaDOS and I know there's no friggin' cake on board so don't even try that."

"We do what we must because we can," Hera chirps on cue.

It earns a shadow of a smile from Lovelace. "I've always wondered about that. Isn't GLaDOS, like," she waves a hand, "offensive to the AI community? Misrepresentation or something. All of them, SHODAN and HAL-9000 and that guy from I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream?"

"Actually," Hera says, almost prim, "I always found GLaDOS somewhat inspiring."

"That's..." Eiffel tips his head back and stares upward. "Hera, you make our oxygen. Please don't say things like that."

The shadow stretches into a tired grin. "Did you have a point to your little spiel about how everyone could murder everyone else, or are you up the stream-of-consciousness without a paddle as usual?"

He jabs a finger at her. "Excuse me, Captain, but there is always a point to my communications. Almost like I'm an officer of them, or something. Actually, I have three points. Number one: there are bigger problems right now, and we never know what's going on, and we're always flying blind, and that hasn't--" He stops abruptly and frowns. "...Well, I was about to say 'that hasn't killed us yet,' but all three of us currently present have been dead before, so, uh."

"Flawless delivery, Officer," Lovelace says dryly. "I see now why you're the communications expert for this mission. What a stellar job you're doing! I hate myself for that pun."

"No, no, hold on, I can salvage this. We're here, aren't we? More or less intact. Despite all kinds of fingers in our brains," he points at the ceiling, "and friggin' drowning in outer space, and bloodthirsty mutant viruses, and being stranded on a nonfunctional craft for a period of time that my sanity has deleted out of self-preservation," he flattens his hand on his chest, and then sweeps it toward her, "and you! I've known you for two years and I was gone for like half that time and I've still witnessed you shrug off a mountain of shrapnel to the guts and a gunshot to the face! Captain Lovelace I have personally heard your heart stop twice and it's still beating. The universe has thrown every stupid death it can cook up at us and we. are. here. So what if you're... whatever you are. The situation hasn't changed. We still have to figure out what to do about the contact event and how to get back to Earth, first of all."

She squeezes her eyes shut. "Eiffel--"

"Still got two points to get through, please save all questions for the end of the presentation. Number two: you still eat and drink and sleep and feel things like you did before you popped out of a star in a magical girl transformation sequence on LSD or whatever the hell actually happened. And Hilbert operated on you pretty extensively due to the aforementioned shrapnel-in-guts incident. Wouldn't he have noticed if you were significantly different from a human being?"

"Counterpoint: I am significantly different from a human being in that you just watched me come back from the dead."

"Counter-counterpoint! That time when you dumped like twelve gallons of your own personal blood into my veins--"

"As opposed to what, my communal blood?"

"--and yet here I float, no telepathy or lasers shooting from my eyes or anything. Which, non-sarcastically, thanks, but also, sarcastically, thanks, because despite all the horrible Decima crap I am still thirteen years old and kind of want to be an X-Man. Blood transfusion by a secret alien is a much better superhero origin story than non-consensual medical experiments."

Lovelace buries her face in her hands, inhales, holds to a count of four, exhales. "Are you done?"

"Point number three!" Eiffel says loudly. "If there is anybody on this station who does not get to be the grand arbiter of the difference between a person and a thing, it's Colonel Goddamn Kepler. You think like Captain Lovelace. You act like Captain Lovelace. You remember being Captain Lovelace down to every tiny detail of, I don't know, the embarrassing thing that happened at your junior prom or whatever. Congratulations, you get to be Captain Lovelace now. Hera would've printed out your certificate but she's kind of busy keeping us from dying all the time. If your thoughts, your actions, your memories... If that's not what makes you you, what does?"

She's quiet for a minute. "I'm not gonna lie, being Captain Lovelace kind of sucks. Can I roll a different character?"

"Yeah, the backstory's a hell of a thing. On the plus side you've got the best stats by a mile and that was before your level-up bonus was revealed."

Lovelace snorts. "God, you're an idiot. How are you... How can you possibly be this chill about everything?"

"Oh, no no no no no, I'm not at all. I'm just so freaked out that it's looped back around to composure. You can fully expect a nervous breakdown in the next two to four business days."

"Well, at least we have that to look forward to." She drops the sarcasm and just looks at him, a little lost, a little vulnerable. "I'm. You can't ignore the fact that I'm not human."

"Okay, well," he rubs at the headache behind his eyes, "maybe that's true. But, like... the only thing that's gonna change is I'm more likely to hide behind you at sudden scary noises now."

"Eiffel, for God's sake, take this seriously," she snaps. "I could kill you."

"To be fair, Original Recipe Lovelace could probably have killed me too. I'm kind of the scrawny tech loser to the badass space commando thing you have going on."

"Eiffel--"

"I mean," Hera interrupts, slow and hesitant, "I'm not a human either, but I'm still... y'know, a person. An individual. A part of the crew. I think that's what he's trying to say? Maybe one day you'll kill us all but I've almost killed you all, like, a dozen times! Not to mention the fact that you've already tried to kill us all before. We got through that. We'll get through this."

Lovelace swallows and her hand goes to the spot on her arm where the dead-man's switch used to rest, an unconscious habit she seems to have picked up while Eiffel was off gallivanting through deep space. "I... okay," she says, taking a steadying breath. "Okay," she repeats, squaring her shoulders, gathering the pieces of her psyche and slotting them back into place til she's the same unstoppable force of nature that has held her position on this station for years despite every possible kind of turbulence. "Okay. If I walk back in there with a gun, Minkowski's gotta be jumpy enough to shoot on sight, and I'd rather not... test the limits of this regeneration-whatever more than I have to, yeah? So. Game plan?"

"Um." Eiffel ticks off on his fingers. "Give you a proper burial at sea, which has been taken off the docket for obvious reasons. Extract information from Kepler, filter out the bullshit which makes up at least 75% of what he's saying at any given moment so that should take way too long. Survive the contact event, which kind of sounds like it's about to start any second now. MacGyver the Urania back into flying shape. Get back to Earth. Kick Goddard Futuristics' ass--this'll be the climax of the third act, I'm thinking lots of cutting-edge laser guns and brutal hand-to-hand combat and Hera's got a super dramatic scene where she hacker-fights the evil AI at the center of the compound, it eats up most of our CGI budget but it's so worth it--and then we all walk away in slow motion as the building explodes and some really badass music plays. Then pizza? Definitely pizza at some point."

Lovelace gives him a look. "You're literally a child." He shrugs. "New game plan: don't die. It's a classic for a reason. Sound good, Hera?"

"I don't know, Captain, Eiffel's had me compiling a list of potential end credits songs for quite a while and I think I've got a pretty good set going..."

"Thank God someone's looking out for what's important," she says dryly, then heaves herself back towards the cargo bay. "Alright, kids, let's go. Time for me to meet my maker."

[stayextrafrosty]

All That I Want Is to Finally Be Honest

Summary: 3x09 coda. Michael creates a truth serum in an attempt to help Liz get information out of Jones. He has no one to test it on so he injects himself. Well, he doesn’t expect Alex to come visit. And while they’ve been talking about things more, there’s still stuff Michael needs to say.

A/N: When I say this is porn with feelings… I mean that in the most intense way. The emotions come out full force here. Title taken from the song "Back To U" by SLANDER. This was supposed to be done before 3x10 but alas.

Read on AO3 // Masterlist

-

“I told you, Ortecho. The serum is done but I need to test it. Are you a willing subject?” Michael said as he swirled the liquid in the beaker.

“I told you I’m busy making more of the alien suppressant. Call Isobel. She’s been itching for things to do.” Michael snorted and hung up the phone. He knew she was right. Isobel had been poking her nose into everything Michael and Liz had been working on. She offered to help but there wasn’t a whole lot she could do under the circumstances. But maybe it would be a good idea to put her under oath for a little bit.

He reached for the phone in his pocket, groaning when he saw the ‘no service’ message. This bunker was so hit or miss with it these days. He wished he could send actual thoughts to Isobel as opposed to just feelings over long distances.

Carefully setting the beaker in a holder, he stepped away from the table, wiping the sweat from his palms on his jeans. He climbed up the ladder, pushing the hatch open with his mind. The sun nearly blinded him as cool air whipped around him. He sat himself on the edge of the hole, waiting for his phone to connect again.

As soon as it did, it buzzed a few times as text messages came in. Three separate messages from Isobel spit balling theories and asking if he needed anything from her. He had tried to tell her to get some rest but she was determined to be the one to take Jones down. She had planned a date with some new girl in town but every time Michael asked about it she said there were other things to focus on.

Date.

He and Alex had made plans but of course they got interrupted. By a machine of all things. A machine that made him hallucinate Michael’s mom. Practically throwing every single doubt about them in his mind right back in his face. Alex didn’t want to tell him the full extent of the things she had said. The things he was thinking. Michael understood for the most part. He wasn’t keeping things from him to be cruel. Just the opposite. Alex was trying to protect him. Alex was always protecting him.

Michael sent a quick message back to Isobel about the serum and how he needed help testing it. The phone buzzed again in his hand and he couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face. He was only thankful Sanders wasn’t around to tease him about it. Alex’s name was at the top of the new message. He tapped the notification to re-open their conversation. He wanted to pretend he didn’t spend the time rereading their conversations since Michael had kissed him. Until then, Michael had thought Alex wasn’t the type to use emojis, but they were being sprinkled throughout more messages.

‘Hope your day is going well’ followed by a blushing smiley face. Michael laughed and shook his head.

‘It would be better if I could see you’ he sent back. He started to climb back down the ladder but his phone buzzed again. He opened the message, being greeted by Alex’s small smile and half lidded eyes as he rested his head on his arm on his desk. He wasn’t fully recovered and Michael could tell. But even with the dark circles, he was still the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

Michael had tried to get him to take a few days off but Alex was insistent. He swore that he would only work on the machine in the way they discussed from now on. And Michael was pretty sure Eduardo was now watching him.

The soft smile still made his heart flutter. This is real. They could casually send pictures of themselves and it wasn’t weird. Michael could see Alex whenever he wanted. And god he loved him. He loved him so much he could jump out of his skin every time he heard his name. There was a twitch in his fingers that told him only to touch Alex. Hold him close and never let go.

“You’re gunna fall if you keep standin’ on the ladder like that!” Michael jumped at Sanders voice. The old man had his eye brow raised and arms crossed as he stood outside of the office trailer.

“Just trying to get some fresh air,” Michael called back as a gust of cold wind whipped through the yard. Sanders shook his head and moved back into the trailer. Michael climbed down the ladder but left the cover off, hoping that would let his phone continue to get service.

He began filling syringes with the serum. His phone buzzed on the table and he briefly glanced at it to see Isobel’s response. She had found something to occupy her time apparently; investigating a lead about where the new alien had disappeared to.

Michael sighed and looked at the needles. He supposed he could just test it on himself. But if it worked properly (which it should) would Sanders really want to listen to all of the stories he had kept secret all this time?

“Guess I don’t have a choice,” he mumbled to himself. Picking up one of the syringes, he watched the green liquid shift. He slipped his flannel off his shoulders, tossing it onto the table. The black t-shirt he wore underneath didn’t do much to keep the cold from the open hatch from sinking in. He pushed a small amount of the serum out of the needle before slipping it into his arm.

“Mad scientists always test on themselves, right?” he asked nobody as he set the empty tube back on the table.

He felt nothing as he walked around the bunker, tapping a pen on the notebook in his hand. Had it really been a bust? Maybe he needed to use more of the powder. He used significantly less than Liz did in her alien killing poison but maybe he needed just a bit more to influence the prefrontal cortex.

He mumbled a curse as he made a note. He didn’t have time to remake this crap a million times. Jones was out there and who knew—

A wave of dizziness washed over him, sending him to his knees. He tried to pull himself up by grabbing the table but the room spun. He missed every attempt to grab the metal edge. Black creeped in at the edge of his vision. He let himself collapse to the floor and he rolled onto his back. Michael fought to keep his eyes open for as long as possible but the promise of sleep was too tempting.

-

“—rin! Guerin! Come on wake up. Don’t you dare leave me now… Michael!”

Alex’s voice was distant, like he was underwater. There was a feint pressure floating across his upper body, poking and prodding. His head radiated pain but it was slowly fading. He began to feel like he was floating as opposed to the hard surface he had been laying on. But at least feeling was starting to return to his body.

“Michael, please. I’m begging you to open your eyes. Twitch your fingers. Scrunch your nose. Anything.” Alex was louder now, as though coming from right above him. He finally oriented himself enough to recognize that his head was elevated. A trembling hand held his own, obviously trying to stop shaking by squeezing harder. Something wet dripped onto his cheek.

“Damnit, Michael!” Alex choked out a sob. Michael summoned all the energy he could and squeezed his hand. He heard Alex gasp above him and then he was squeezing back. Another hand brushed hair off his forehead and traced down the side of his face. Michael would have shuddered at the feeling of his hands but he still didn’t have much movement in his body.

Instead he swallowed and tried to make some kid of sound. Any word that would sooth Alex. He just ended up with a clipped groan. Still Alex seemed to release a sigh of relief.

“Michael. Can you hear me? Are you ok?” Michael just made another strangled sound and gave a barely there squeeze to his hand. He focused his efforts to opening his eyes instead. He wanted to see Alex.

The dim lights above him still felt too bright and everything was blurry. He could vaguely make out the form of Alex’s head bent over him. He blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog in front of his eyes. As his focus sharpened, he met Alex’s wide eyes. Tear tracks stained his cheeks, and a small smile found its way to his lips.

“I’m ok,” Michael managed to croak out. Then Alex was bending down and pressing a gentle kiss to his mouth. Michael would have responded but he was pulling away too soon.

“Wait… do it again,” Michael mumbled. Alex shook his head.

“Let’s at least get you sitting up.” He groaned as Alex lifted his shoulders and helped him turn so he could lean against the counter. Michael noticed his position on his knees. How long had he been sitting like that with his head in his lap? It was probably uncomfortable at best, painful at worst. He moved sluggishly to grab Alex’s arm and pull him off his knees to a sitting position next to him.

“You don’t have to worry about me so much. But I love that you do.” Michael wanted to correct himself. Take back the second part. It was still too soon.

“What happened? Did someone come hurt you?” The new anger in his voice was barely contained. Michael blew extra air out of his nose in a laugh and shook his head.

“No. I stuck myself with a serum I’ve been working on for Liz. I needed a guinea pig and no other alien was around. I think I used too much of the yellow powder and knocked myself out. No big deal.” He reached over to rest a hand on Alex’s thigh and squeezed gently. “There’s no need to be angry. But the fact that you are makes me love you more.” Stop talking! He was screaming at himself.

Alex sucked in a breath and turned his face away, but Michael caught the blush that overtook his cheeks. He let himself slide to the side, resting his own head on Alex’s shoulder. They sat in silence for a moment and the fog in his head continued to clear.

“What kind of serum was it?” Alex asked quietly.

“Supposed to be a truth serum. The idea was that once we over power Jones, we stick him with it and he tells us all the secrets of the universe. How to swap Max and Jones back into their proper bodies. History of our home planet and the War. Stuff about us.” He knew that this was more information than he was asking for but he couldn’t stop talking. “Did you know I’m immune to fire? That was a hell of a discovery. Spent the better part of a day setting my hand on fire to see if it did anything. Never did. There really was an irony in you telling me that you’d burn the world down for me.”

“Michael…”

“Sure you’d burn the world but did you ever consider I would walk through fire for you? That maybe the world is already burning but it doesn’t matter because I can withstand it all. Just for you.”

Suddenly a hand was covering his mouth and Alex was staring at him so intently Michael thought he might be reading his mind. Tears pricked at the edges of his eyes and his breathing was shaky, as though Michael had overwhelmed him.

“I.. think the serum works,” Alex said quietly. Michael wrapped his fingers around his wrist gently, pulling his hand away from his mouth, but not too far.

“I love you, Alex.” He pulled his hand back to his lips, pressing them to his palm. “And I should have said that to you so much earlier.”

Michael could see the way Alex fought against the smile. He breathed out a half laugh and looked anywhere except him.

“Tell me that when you haven’t drugged yourself,” Alex teased gently.

“Alex, I can’t lie.”

“I know. But I want you to tell me when you’re ready.”

Michael kissed his palm again, then moved his hand slowly down his cheek and placed it on the back of his neck. Alex slipped his fingers into his curls, nails scratching lightly at his head.

“I want to kiss you,” Michael said softly, cupping Alex’s jaw and running his thumbs over his cheeks. He let one go just far enough to press against his bottom lip, pulling it down. Alex’s lips parted as his hand threaded through Michael’s hair tightened.

“You don’t have to ask, you know,” he responded, breathless.

Michael couldn’t help the shudder that ran down his spine. He leaned forward, resting his head against Alex, just breathing in the smell of him. He brushed their lips together and Alex gasped. The small sound sent a thrill through Michael. His heart fluttered and his stomach twisted with nerves.

“I want you,” Michael mumbled.

“You’ve got me. I’m not going anywhere.”

His body trembled as the words warmed every part of his body. Need settled between his legs as he rolled himself to straddle Alex’s thighs. His free hand landed on Michael’s hip as the hand in his hair tugged him closer, brushing their lips against each other again.

Michael hadn’t been this nervous about intimacy in years. This was Alex after all. They communicate with bodies and moans. It’s the way they understand each other. They always fit together so well. Filling in the cracks of each other and making something more beautiful than when they were apart.

Alex was the one who closed the distance between them, capturing Michael’s lips, stoking the fire under his skin. He moaned softly, pressing his hips against Alex.

They had kept their kisses chaste since the night at the Pony, neither wanting to rush into this before they knew where they were going. But Michael had been craving Alex for almost three years. To have him wrapped in his arms as sweat eased the movement of their bodies. He didn’t want to wait anymore. He couldn’t.

Alex tugged on his hair with one hand and his t-shirt with the other. Michael’s hands were moving down to the unbuttoned flannel. He shoved it off his shoulders to expose the white shirt underneath. Alex only released him to chuck the shirt somewhere to the side before he was grabbing at the hem of his shirt and pushing it up.

Michael separated for a moment as he gripped Alex’s shoulders, running his fingers over the collar of his shirt. He felt the cool press of metal and remembered the dog tags Alex had taken to wearing.

His mind wandered to the way they would move against Alex’s chest. The way they would intensify the feeling of Michael’s warm fingers as he traced the chain on his skin. He groaned as he also realized that it was something he couldhave.

Michael kissed Alex again, grinding down against him. He wanted to make sure he knew just how badly he wanted him. Alex shoved his hands under his shirt, fingers splayed over his stomach and then moving to his sides and eventually his back. Alex scratched him lightly as he pulled him closer, encouraging the movement of his hips more.

He shuddered and cursed against his lips. He felt like a teenager again. Like he might come undone without even getting their pants off.

“Wait,” Michael mumbled, breathless. Alex pulled away immediately, looking almost scared that he had done something wrong. Michael smiled warmly at him before crushing their lips together one last time. He only held it for a couple seconds before he was pushing himself off the floor. He grabbed Alex’s hands on the way up, using his telekinesis to help lift him to his feet also. Alex looked around, shocked in a way. Michael was a bit startled too. The pollen was supposed to suppress their powers. Maybe the amount he used was too small to have a real effect. Instead of pointing this out, Michael just chuckled and pushed Alex back against the edge of the counter, head dipping to place wet kisses over his neck.

“Come to my trailer,” he said against his throat. “If I’m going to show you just how much I love you, I’ll at least do it in a proper bed.” Alex’s head fell back as Michael’s mouth moved. But he nodded quickly.

Michael forced himself away from Alex, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the ladder. He let Alex climb out first, following closely behind. He shut the cover to the bunker with hardly a glance behind him. He flung the trailer door open next and all but shoved Alex inside, though still cautious of his leg.

Not that Alex was any more patient than he was. Alex grabbed him by his shirt, pulling their bodies flush against each other as Michael locked the door with his mind. Michael’s arms wrapped around his waist as their lips came together again. Alex whimpered as his tongue teased his lip. Michael tugged it between his teeth, groaning at the way it made Alex melt against him.

Alex’s hands dragged down his chest to the hem of his shirt again, yanking it up. They only separated for a moment as Michael finished removing the garment. Michael shoved him backwards onto his bed. He smiled down at him and watched hungrily as he rushed to undo the button on his jeans. All of this the same path they had taken three years ago. But it was different now. Neither was going to run away.

Michael crawled onto the bed, settling between Alex’s thighs as he pushed his shirt up and over his head before capturing his mouth again. They sighed against each other’s lips as their skin moved together effortlessly. The cool metal of the dog tags Alex was wearing shocked Michael, but that only made him want to press closer.

Fingers pulled at his hair and then scratched down his back until they reached the top of his jeans. Michael’s mouth fell open in a silent moan as Alex traced the hem around to the belt buckle. He fumbled with the strap for a moment before he yanked it free and immediately popped the button on his jeans.

Michael shifted back to his knees to admire the beautiful man below him. His face was red, lips swollen and wet as he tugged his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes were half lidded as he ran his fingers over Michael’s abs and tried to pull him back down by the hem of his jeans. As much as he wanted to go with whatever Alex wanted, he wanted to take it slow. The temptation to just throw all their clothing off and get Alex moaning taunted him. But they could do that any time. No. Michael was determined to show him exactly what he thought of him.

He took Alex’s hands in his, threading their fingers together and pressing them down next to his head. Leaning down again, he kissed Alex slowly, only just barely running his tongue over the seem of his lips. A small whine bubbled up from Alex’s throat as his fingers squeezed Michael’s. Michael rubbed his hips against Alex and they both gasped at the friction.

“I need you,” Alex panted out. Michael hushed him gently as he trailed his lips over his jaw to his neck. Alex’s body arched against him as he sucked at his pulse point. Once he was satisfied with the mark, he moved down past his collarbone and hovered over his heart, breathing over the skin before pressing his mouth against him softly.

He slipped his hands out of Alex’s, letting his fingers just ghost over his arms. Michael continued his movement down his body, leaving small, wet kisses in his wake. His hands followed the same path through the hair on his chest as his mouth worked over his stomach to the trail of hair leading down from his belly button.

“I can never come up with the words to tell you how perfect you are,” Michael breathed against his skin. He pressed his forehead against the bottom of Alex’s ribs as he dragged his fingers down to the hem of his jeans. He felt Alex’s hands run through his hair, scratching and tugging. Michael slipped his fingers into the waistband and began pulling the fabric down.

“Michael, wait,” Alex said. He froze and looked up at him, waiting for further instructions. “Let me take off the prosthesis first.” He pushed himself up to his elbows before Michael stopped him.

“If you’ll let me, I can take it off for you.” Alex’s shoulders sagged as a small smile found it’s way to his face. He nodded slowly and took Michael’s hand, pulling it to his mouth to press a couple chaste kisses to his fingers.

Michael slipped to his knees on the floor. He rolled Alex’s pant leg up, exposing the metal and plastic. He worked quickly with Alex watching him, undoing straps and tugging gently. He set the leg to the side carefully, leaning it against the wall.

He looked back up at Alex and hoped that he didn’t blush from the soft look he was getting from him. He rolled the sock off his stump and set it to the side with the prosthesis. He watched Alex through his eye lashes as he pressed kisses to his knee.

Alex gasped softly and pushed himself up completely so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He took Michael’s face in his hands tenderly, brushing his thumbs over his cheekbones. Michael ran his hands up his legs to his waist and over his stomach. His fingers brushed against the metal of the dog tags when he got to his chest.

He dragged one hand back down to Alex’s hip. The other he let catch on the metal chain. He met Alex’s gaze as their heavy breathing mingled between them. Then Michael tugged on the chain, firmly pulling Alex down toward him.

He pushed himself up at the same time, mouths coming together with a chorus of moans and gasps. Their tongues tasted each other as Michael pushed himself up and Alex back on the bed. Alex’s hands were tangled in his hair, pulling him as close as their bodies would allow.

Michael braced himself with one hand while the other ran down Alex’s body to the waist of his pants again. He grabbed and tugged both the jeans and underwear over his hips. Alex, lifted himself so he could bring them down to his thighs.

He pulled away from Alex to finish removing his clothes, tossing them somewhere to the side. Michael licked his lips as he took in every beautiful inch of him. The firm muscles barely hidden beneath the soft skin. He touched his thighs, the hair tickling his hands. He moved slowly up his thighs and to his hips where his hardness rested between his legs.

Michael avoided touching his cock, instead focusing on massaging everything else around it. He dug his fingers into the soft spot on his hips. Alex rolled toward his touch, sighing blissfully. And he couldn’t help himself, leaning down to press featherlight kisses to the v just below his abs. Alex made a small whimpering sound as he pulled at his own hair.

“So amazing…” Michael mumbled as he continued his line of kisses up over his abs. “Beautiful and strong…” Alex gasped out his name when his hands scratched up his sides and to his arms to hold them above his head. “You were made for me, Alex. I was made to touch you, to kiss you, to live for you, to love you.”

Michael kissed his way back up to his chest, inhaling his scent and hoping that it would be left on his own skin for days. He pressed his tongue over Alex’s nipple briefly before kissing across his chest to the other one. Alex arched his back, pressing his member against Michael’s abs and rubbing. He chuckled.

“Touching you was always the most rewarding part,” he said sweetly before running the tip of his tongue up over his chest and neck and back to his lips. He left only a few centimeters between them as he spoke, “You’re so responsive. I can’t help but want to take you apart.”

“Kiss me, Michael. Now,” Alex ordered. Michael would never deny him anything. Not unless that was the plan. It was about both of them this time. He could play with him in the future. Michael slid his mouth over Alex’s, not being able to stop the smile.

They had a future. And this was only the first of all the ways he would be allowed to love him.

Michael released Alex’s arms and ran his fingers back down his torso to his hips. He pressed the length of his body against him. Alex wrapped his arms around his neck, licking into his mouth and nipping at his lip. Michael moaned softly and rocked his hips against him.

He released Alex to push his own pants and underwear to his knees before kicking them off. He let most of his weight collapse on top of Alex, rolling his hips to rub them against each other. They moaned together as a shudder ran down Michael’s spine.

Alex untangled one of his arms to reach between them. He wrapped his hand around both of them, stroking slowly. Michel groaned into his mouth as his arms started to shake from the effort of holding himself up. He tore himself away from Alex, knowing that if he let this continue, he would finish before even getting inside him. He sat back on his knees, tracing a pattern through the hair on his chest and down to his cock.

He pushed Alex’s hand away from them gently. His panting only increased as Michael took his legs and bent them back slightly. Michael slid down his body so that his mouth hovered over Alex’s now twitching member. Every breath that brushed over him made it jump in anticipation.

He felt Alex’s hand in his hair and looked up at him through his eyelashes. His mouth hung open as his eyes begged for any sort of stimulation. A small bead of precum sat at the tip, threatening to roll down the side.

“You’re so perfect,” Michael said just before taking Alex into his mouth for the first time in years. The salty taste of him was better than he remembered as he slipped most of the way down his shaft. Alex jerked and gasped, tugging on his hair to pull him closer. Michael groaned around him, feeling the way Alex’s fingers tightened again.

Michael rubbed the back of his thighs as he bobbed his head up and down, pushing them open so he could have better access. He let his tongue tease around the head as he slipped further with every down stroke.

“Fuck, Michael,” Alex pleaded. He looked up at him to meet his eyes. He felt the shudder run through Alex’s body as he gasped and twisted his other hand into the sheets on the bed. Then Michael sank down again, taking him to the back of his throat and burying his nose in the short hair at the base.

Alex’s hips jerked up and Michael suppressed his gag reflex by gripping his thighs harder. Alex tugged his already swollen bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes fluttered closed and head fell back. Michael wanted to imprint the image of him blissed out into his brain.

He lifted his head until just the tip with in his mouth before sinking back down in one movement. Alex cried out in pleasure as his fingers pulled on Michael’s hair again. He continued the pattern a few more times before pulling off completely. Alex whined in protest. Michael chuckled and smirked up at him. Then he trailed the tip of his tongue down his length and over his balls, sucking one into his mouth briefly before moving to his ass.

Alex’s back arched again as he tried to press closer to Michael’s tongue. He mumbled something incomprehensible when he started teasing his rim. Michael shifted his hands down to his ass, spreading him open.

“Not… enough…” Alex panted out. Michael nipped at the skin of his ass lightly.

“Just be patient, darlin’,” he said sweetly before pressing a kiss to his skin. Then he pressed his tongue flat against his hole while his thumb pushed just past the rim. Alex’s hips rocked more as small moans slipped from his lips.

Michael worked his thumb in slowly, letting the tip of his tongue slip in alongside it. He pressed against Alex’s walls, urging him open. Alex groaned from above him and grabbed handfuls of his hair, yanking him back up his body to crush their mouths together. Michael didn’t exactly fight hard against it.

He kept his fingers at his hole, slipping his middle finger in and out of him teasingly. Alex bit at his lips and shoved his tongue into his mouth. It stole Michael’s breath away, feeling the desperation he poured into the kiss. He only hoped Alex could feel the same from him. He didn’t get the chance to reciprocate for long because Alex pulled away, instead pressing their foreheads together.

“Tell me you have lube,” he said, voice shaking and breathy.

“Of course.” Michael reached out with his mind to the lowest drawer under the sink. He floated the bottle toward them and dropped it on the bed. “You saying you didn’t like my attentions?” he teased with a smile.

“I liked it too much,” Alex said, brushing their lips together and rocking his hips against Michael’s fingers. “I need to feel you inside me again. To be as close to you as possible. To lose track of where I end and you begin.”

He couldn’t stop the smile that broke out on his face. Michael would do anything for Alex. Bend to his every whim and request.

So he removed his finger from Alex’s hole and instead wrapped his arm around his waist and the other around his back. He pulled him up so he was sitting on his thighs as Michael kneeled on the bed. Alex wrapped his arms around his shoulders, holding him close.

Michael kissed him again, soft and slow. He gripped Alex’s skin, digging his fingers into the muscle. Alex sighed and held him tighter in return. When he was sure he was balanced on his thighs, he reached for the bottle and flicked the cap open. Realizing he was going to need to hands, he pulled his lips away from Alex. There was a small noise of protest that Michael silenced with a quick peck.

“Hold on to me,” he breathed over his lips.

“I wouldn’t dream of letting go.”

He released Alex slowly as their lips slipped over each other again. Michael squeezed a small amount of lube on his fingers. He rubbed it around for a moment before finding Alex’s entrance again. Alex gasped as his fingers prodded the opening.

There was little resistance to the first finger from Michael’s earlier attention. The lube made the second finger slip in just as easily. Alex sighed his name as his hips started rocking slowly. The friction against Michael’s own cock was wholly welcome, making him moan.

Michael twisted and pressed his fingers inside him, looking for the sweet spot he knew would earn him more noises. Alex’s mouth fell open when he finally found it and he could only grin as he swallowed the moan that tumbled from his lips. He massaged his prostate. A few soft strokes followed by a firm press.

Alex’s cock twitched and throbbed against his with every movement. As much as Michael wanted to continue like this until Alex made a mess of them both, he didn’t want to wait anymore. He pulled his fingers out slowly, giving one more teasing press to the spot.

Michael grabbed the lube bottle again, pouring more onto his fingers. He snapped the lid closed and tossed it to the side, hardly registering the sound of it falling to the floor. He carefully shifted Alex back so he could cover his cock in the lube.

Once fully coated, he pulled back to rest his forehead against Alex’s. They both panted as they met each other’s eyes. Michael wrapped an arm around his waist.

“You want this?” he asked a final time. Alex just beamed at him before pulling him back in for a searing kiss.

“Yes. I need you, Michael.”

Michael could only groan in response, claiming his lips again. He lowered Alex back to the bed and he almost immediately wrapped his legs around his waist. With his free hand, Michael guided his cock to Alex’s hole. He pressed himself against the rim, slowly rolling his hips until the tip entered him.

Michael saw stars behind his eyes as he tried to keep his movements slow. The temptation to bury himself in the warmth of Alex was overwhelming. Their moans overlapped as he pushed farther in. He nearly fell forward, needing to brace himself using the arm that had been hold Alex.

“I love you, Michael,” Alex suddenly rushed out. Michael’s eyes opened to meet Alex’s. He had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen on his face. His eyes were half lidded but still completely focused on Michael. “I love you,” he repeated.

His heart soared higher than ever. He never thought he would know this kind of joy. But the man wrapped in his arms was offering it so openly and completely. No extra conditions. Just all the love he could possibly give.

A tear spilled down Michael’s face as he pushed himself completely into Alex. Their mouths fell open and Alex refused to look away from him. He pulled out slightly and pushed in again, this time hearing the moans fall from his own lips.

“God, Alex…” he sighed, letting his head fall to his shoulder as he continued the steady thrusting of his hips.

Michael pressed his lips to his shoulder before sucking on the spot, massaging a mark into his skin. Alex moaned softly as his hips came up to meet Michael’s next thrust. He scratched his nails up and down Michael’s back, distracting him from his rhythm. His hips jerked forward roughly once, making them both gasp at the feeling.

He picked up his rhythm again, moving faster, starting to chase the high that comes with orgasm. Alex clenched around him, moving his own hips in time with Michael. He stopped holding back his moans, instead letting them vibrate over Alex’s skin.

He could feel Alex’s heartbeat from where their chests were pressed together. It pounded just as hard as his own. Possibly threatening to burst from how full of love it was. Alex’s moans were music to his ears. Small plea’s begging for more finally registered in his brain. And he would never deny Alex.

“I’m so close, Michael,” he whined next to his ear. Michael was on the edge too. So he pulled his head from Alex’s shoulder and kissed him again as he sped up his hips again, trying to match the racing of his heartbeat.

He had lost track of his body. He could only feel Alex wrapped around him, fitting perfectly against his skin. Michael ground his hips against Alex’s ass, breaking his even pattern in an effort to feel more of him.

After that he didn’t know what came over him. His hand was pressing to Alex’s chest as his hips only got rougher and more erratic. He could feel the heat rippling out from his hand. Alex cried out and arched against him, one of his own hands moving to cover Michael’s.

“Alex, Alex, Alex,” he panted out.

“Michael!” He felt the spasm of his body against his own, then the warmth of the liquid running between them.

His own orgasm rushed up to him, no time to even consider pulling out. Not that he even wanted to. His hips thrust forward roughly, burying him inside of Alex as his cock emptied. A long moan accompanied each of his last thrusts until he was shaking from the overstimulation.

Michael collapsed against Alex, laying his head against his chest. Alex’s free hand pet his hair gently as their breathing started to even out. Michael dozed and Alex’s occasional snores let him know he wasn’t the only one. It couldn’t have been that long because the mess between them hadn’t dried.

He pulled his eyes open to see his hand placed firmly over Alex’s heart and his hand still covering Michael’s. He lifted his hand slowly and the bright pink, iridescent handprint seemed to ripple with Alex’s breathing.

“You could have warned me how intense it would be,” Alex said quietly, a light and content tone to his voice. Michael pushed himself up slightly to see his face. The sweet smile that always made his heart flutter was back and internally he sighed in relief.

“Had I known it was going to be I would have,” he said, lifting a finger brush over his cheek. “I’m sorry for the handprint. I didn’t—” Alex pulled him in and kissed him, stopping his apology.

“I’m so happy, Michael. About everything. I love you so much,” he said when he pulled away. Michael smiled at him and pressed another kiss to his lips, lingering just slightly when he pulled away.

“I love you, Alex.” Alex held his face gently with a fondness glittering in his eyes.

“I told you to wait until the serum had worn off,” he joked. The fog in his mind had completely vanished though he couldn’t quite remember when. He was still pouring his heart out to Alex but it was because he wanted to. He never wanted to hide anything from him. He never wanted to lie to him.

“It wore off already. I don’t feel the need to say everything I’m thinking,” he said, inching closer to Alex’s lips again. “But I still want to tell you everything. Because right now, all I can think about is you.”

[whattodowithace]

Red (Byeongkwan)

Title: Red

Pairing: Byeongkwan x Reader

Genre: Fluff; Soulmate AU

Word Count: 3,423 Words

Writer: Whattodowithkpop [Lio]

Summary: A yellow string ties you with your best friend, while a red string ties you with your soulmate. It can be hard to determine which is which when you can’t differentiate the string colors.

A/N: I did research for this fanfic, but if anything is incorrect or inaccurate please let me know how I can fix it to be correct. Thank you 🥺! Also, a huge thanks to @yuchoice for helping me find the pictures for the banner!

*****

It's a common tale, one that many have heard before. The story of the red string of fate. A red string ties soulmates together, making it easy for ones not to get hurt. It may take some time to meet the one at the end of your string but it's worth the wait.

There is a stipulation. Some red strings are one sided. You could see a red string leading up to your soulmate, but they may not see red up to you. There were best friend strings as well. These strings were yellow instead of red to help distinguish your best friend. Some people's soulmate strings could one sided. As in, your string could show red leading up to a person, but on their side, the string showed yellow.

Unfortunately, for some, yellow and red were similar shades of color. I was one of the millions of people who had colorblindness. I couldn't distinguish the coloring between the two strings. The strings didn't worry me much, though. When soulmates and best friends were far away, the strings would stretch into the horizon. And mine had been far stretched for years. Because of this, she never worried about the colored strings wrapped around her wrist.

She left high school with no regrets and started working as an intern at her dream job. She didn't concern herself about either string as she moved up the corporate ladder. She had too much on her plate to worry about such trivial things such as her soulmate strings. Her strings had never indicated either destined person was near, so she chose to keep herself from worry. She figured she would always keep calm and collected when it came to her soulmate strings, however her view changed one spring day as she set at the park bench feeling the breeze that carried the fallen cherry blossoms through the air.

She was admiring the scenery, loving the felling of the sun tanning her skin as she basked in its warmth. Lost in her surroundings, she lifted her hand to brush through her hair, fixing the damage the wind had done to it. Something caught her eye, however, something that caused a range of emotions to swirl throughout her body. Shock, fear, excitement, to name a few. All because one of the strings was slack against her wrist, compared to its usual taught nature, this indicated that either her best friend or soulmate was near by.

She stood, feeling dizziness wash over her as her hands begun to feel clammy and her heart begun beating like a strong drum in a song as she looked for the other end of the string in the distance. The string trail still stretched for miles until it disappeared over the horizon, having no person as far as the eye could see. Her heart felt a twinge of pain at the empty horizon, one of her destined hadn't appeared before her. She shakes her head, setting a smile on her face as she chose to look at the positive side, they had been close, closer than they had ever been before.

Excitement continued to fill through her as she continued throughout her week. This new development giving her the habit of checking the horizon to see if the string had brought her any closer to them. She tried not to get impatient or frustrated, however it was hard when all she wanted now was to meet whoever was close to her. She let her curiosity continue to fuel her, but still kept focused on her daily life, not diverging from it so as to distract from her impatience.

~

It was a Friday night in the office as she filed the rest of her papers away before ending her shift. Most everyone had left by now leaving only a few employees scattered about finishing up the week's work so they could take their needed breaks for the weekend. Her new habit was still in full swing as she lifted her head to look towards the horizon, checking to see if the opposite end of her string was any closer to her. She took a double take as she watched a silhouette pass by her office door, the end of her string tied around a wrist of a colleague she had never met.

She halted her actions, walking as fast as she could towards the elevator where the figure had been heading. It was easy to assume that the parking garage was their destination, deducted only because almost everyone one else had already left to go home. She spots the elevator, sprinting towards it, reaching it right as the automatic doors close. Her sigh echos throughout the big hallway as she stares at the string leading up to the elevator, going through it reminding her of her failed attempt at meeting the person at the other end of the string. Her adrenaline beings to fade as she curses under her breath, going back to her office to finish her filing so she could go home for the weekend.

Weeks pass as she waits for evening to fall on the bustling city, the sun sinking low in the sky, creating a beautiful orange glow to shine through the office. She waits for the figure, hoping to catch them this time before they enter the elevator, even going as far as to stay late to explore the hallways and open offices before leaving for home. Her hope of finding them dwindled as each day passes without a trace of them. She was ready to give up all hope and go back to focusing only on work, her destined wasn't ready to reveal themselves so she would have to respect that and go on with her life.

~

The sun had begun to set over the horizon, the rays of sunset flooding into the office due the the large windows. A lot of people were heading home and she was following suit. She was packing her things so she could begin her trip home. She turns on her heels, not stopping to check her surroundings causing her to come face to face with a broad chest. Her eyebrow quirk as she raises her eyes, following the dress shirt up to a neck before following the pale skin to a smiling face. His hair was dark, some strands falling into his eyes and grazing his eyelashes, eyelashes that protected a pair of light colored eyes, eyes that bore into hers once they met.

His eyes held a deep care in them, her head tilting at the strong emotion he wore without having even spoke as much as a word to her. His eyes darted to his wrist, prompting her eyes to follow his as they reach his wrist. Her heart jumps in her chest and eyes fill with tears as she glances back and forth between her wrist and his. Her eyes stare at his wrist, the other side of one of her strings wrapped around him, the bow adorning his wrist in a beautiful way.

Without a second thought, She drops her things, them landing with a loud thump, as she wraps her arms around his neck, resting her chin on his shoulder as she holds her tears from falling. He stumbles back, arms wrapping around her waist as he balances them before her momentum knocked them to the ground. His hands travel up her back hugging her tighter, however what she doesn't feel is his tense body, she misses the sadness in his eyes as he holds her close to him. What she didn't know was, from his view, the string that tied them together was bright red, the red string for soulmates. The color didn't register in her eyes, of course, so she wasn't able to perceive that their fate was to live their lives as soulmates.

Some strings that connected people weren't the same color, this anomaly wasn't common, however it wasn't unheard of. Some people saw a red line meeting to their soulmate whereas their soulmate saw the yellow string that connected best friends. Some people were so overwhelmed at the sight of their soulmate, that they would kiss the other on instinct. However, this made things awkward when strings weren't the same color for both parties.  It was hard to stay friends after you put your heart on the line and your feelings weren't returned because fate seemed to have a sense of humor. This scared many people and, unfortunately, her new friend was a victim of this worry. He assumed the hug was a friend hug, he had seen enough people meet their soulmates to know this wasn't a a hug you give to a soulmate. He put on a brave smile while on the inside, his heart sat in a million pieces, shattered as his soulmate pulled away from him, asking him if he would like to grab a coffee.

~

The moon had already risen as they went for coffee, finding out each other's names and taking turns on telling the other stories. She sat opposite of him, her thoughts distracted as she wondered if the man before her was her soulmate or her best friend and at this point she was too afraid to ask. She hoped it would come to fruition, that he would give it away to her, but he never gave her any indication as to which he was for her.

She stayed quiet about her colorblindness, it wasn't something she loved talking about because most people mocked her for it. She knew no matter if he was her soulmate or her best friend he wouldn't make her feel bad for it, however the years of mockery caused her to clam up, not even feeling brave enough to tell him about it.

They talked for hours, way until the moon began sinking back to lay in a dormant state. They became fast friends, which wasn't surprising considering the circumstances. It wasn't until she let out a yawn from exhaustion that her new friend, Byeongkwan suggested they go home. He offered to walk her, since it had gotten so dark, he worried for her safety this late at night. She was hesitant, not wanting to inconvenience him, however he was insistent, almost begging her to let him walk her home, ending in her finally agreeing.

Their connection that formed was undeniable as they continued their conversations on the trip home. She continued hoping that Byeongkwan was more than her best friend, she wanted him to be her soulmate the longer she was with him the more she hoped he would reveal to be her soulmate. However, time kept passing and she had to come to terms that his lack of admittance was a good indicator that he was only her best friend. Her face showed grimness, even though she was having a great time, she forced herself to look on the bright side. She was happy to have him in her life now, no matter what string was strung across his wrist.

~

Days turned into months and months turned into years as the two continued to get closer. They had become the best of friends and  both adored each other and enjoyed each other's company. However, neither one could shake the feeling that their connection was something deeper than only being best friends. In reality, the connection WAS deeper, but neither one was brave enough to make a move.

It should've been painfully obvious to her when Byeongkwan introduced her to his friend Seyoon. Byeongkwan and Seyoon were close, close enough that it was obvious to anyone looking at first glance they had a yellow string tying the two together, making them best friends. And yet, her and Byeongkwan never discussed the colors of their string, no matter how much they both wanted to bring it up they didn't and decided to stay silent.

~

She continued to stay focused on her career, wondering about the string that connected her and Byeongkwan, but staying focused enough to move up in the corporate world. She was now one of the members of the board for her company, now handling most of the business affairs and relationships with the company's partners. She, also, worked hard in earning new partners to further benefit her company's assets.

She was currently visiting Sun Inc., discussing a business proposal with the CEO of the company and all his closest associates. She had worked up the proposal and had familiarized herself with Sun Inc. and its business practices, knowing that both businesses could benefit from the other. She weighed the pros and cons and even presented both in the meeting, impressing Mr. Lee, the CEO of Sun Inc, ending in him promising to get in touch with the company soon to discuss a partnership.

She left the meeting with a smile, her hands clasping together to keep herself from flailing in excitement. She looks down to her hands, feeling their tight grasp on each other, but her attention shifts. Her body tenses and her eyes widen as she watches the string not connected to Byeongkwan lay slack against her wrist. Her eyes follow the string as it reaches a new person, her adrenaline skyrockets as she looks at the woman who's back was facing her.

The woman dressed in business attire, a pencil skirt hugging her thin frame with a matching suit coat. She wore heels that made her taller , even though it was easy to tell she was tall without them. Her shoulder length brown hair shone under the artificial lights of the bulbs above her. She was talking to a man, that man being the CEO of the company.

She watches the pair converse, her head tilting as she notices Mr. Lee's hand around the woman's waist. It was clear to see that they were most likely together as the woman handed him the folder in her hand, whispering in his ear in the process. Mr. Lee winks at the woman with a smirk adorning his face before walking back to an office that appeared to be his own.

The string attaching the two compelled her to walk towards the woman, her feet leading her on their own accord. She approached her without much time to think of a conversation starter and watches as the young woman lifts her head to meet her eyes.  The Woman's eyes hid behind a pair of glasses that framed her face, enhancing the beautiful color speckled in her irises. Both heads look down to their wrists seeing them connected by the thin string bowed at the wrists. The two look back up with gleeful smiles, no words spoken for a moment as they feel nervousness and excitement flow throughout their bodies.

"It's been a long time." The woman laughs as she steps closer, holding her hand out to view the string better.

"It has." She laughs, her hand mimicking the woman's to hold it out to view the string's connection in a fuller view.

"I'm actually on break, would you like to grab a bite?" The woman asks abruptly, excitement evident in her voice.

She nods in agreement, no awkwardness hanging in the air as the two walk together to a small restaurant next to Sun Inc.

~

Upon entering the restaurant the delicious smells from the food greet us, the atmosphere pleasant as the woman leads the two to a table, one she seemed to frequent.

As expected they became fast friends, the fate of string proving true once again, a break in conversation gives her a moment for her thoughts to drift to the string. She looks down, watching the string from her wrist trail to her new friend's.

"I'm colorblind." She lets out, her voice barley above a whisper as her heart beats in her chest, avoiding eye contact.

"I never would've guessed." The woman smiles, her voice soft as she waits in quietness, however that silence was comfortable.

"I have never been able to tell the difference between my soulmate string and my best friend string." She continues as her heart calms to its usual beat. "I met a boy two years ago. I wasn't sure what he was to me and I assumed the string around our wrists we were yellow"

"But, it's our strings are yellow." She states more than asks as she finishes her train of thought.

"You did meet my husband." The woman laughs. "I sure hope our strings are yellow."

She laughs at Mrs. Lee's bluntness, nodding in agreement. Her heart speeds up as she stares at the string connecting her to Byeongkwan, her thoughts on him being her soulmate making her feel nervous and excited. The worry she felt about his string was great, what if it wasn't yellow? This concern filled her, however she felt such a deep connection with him, one she felt could only come from a soulmate that she decided to throw caution to the wind. Her heart rate quickened, making her stand, catching the attention of her stringed best friend.

"I am so sorry, I have to go." She announces, grabbing Mrs. Lee's hand, their yellow strings twisting together. "I will call you."

"Go get him, girl." Her friend winks, picking up on the situation from the pieces she had heard.

She nods, rushing out of the restaurant with her heartbeat in her ears as she runs though the crowds of people on the sidewalk. She knew where he was, they had talked about their plans for the day which gave her an exact location on him. Her lungs burned from the extensive use on them and her legs felt exhausted as they carried her through the busiest part of the day.

She reaches a small coffeeshop, the coffeeshop that they had first visited together the first day after finding each other. It became a frequented establishment of theirs and didn't get their coffee from anywhere else after that moment. She pushes through the double doors, the bells ringing overhead announcing a customer's arrival. Her eyes scan the shop before finally landing on him, his head looking down at his phone as he sips coffee from his free hand. She walks up to him, his eyes meeting hers as she approaches his table.

He smiles at her as he asks. "How'd the meeting go?"

The question goes unanswered as she reaches him. Her hands waste no time in taking his cheeks to pull him closer to her as her lips find his, eyes closing tightly as she relishes the feeling of his lips on hers. He squeaks in surprise, his body tensing underneath her palms. It takes him a moment to come to his senses and reciprocate the kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her body against the chair he was sitting in.

The world seemed to fade as the two stayed lip locked, it was like a scene from a romantic movie except instead of the patrons of the coffeeshop cheering for the new couple, the murmured in confusion as they watch the two. The two pull away, their eyes taking a longer time to open as the feelings following the kiss lingered. Byeongkwan tries to stutter through words as his face brightens in color.

"I'm colorblind." She tells him in a hushed tone, her breathing labored from the intensity of the kiss.

Byeongkwan's eyes shift, holding a deep emotion in them as he stares at her.  "Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I...” She look away from him, embarrassment flooding her. His hands reach up to encase hers that rested on his cheeks, her looking into his worried filled eyes. “I got scared.” She finishes, avoiding his eyes after her confession.

“I want to make up for lost time and very badly want to kiss you for hours.” He confesses, making her gasp in shock. “But we both have work”

“I can finished for the day.” She smiles at him, his body tensing at her words.

“I can make some calls.” He says as he stands. “I will be at your place in thirty and your lips aren’t getting a break.”

Excitement fills her as she nod, watching him leave the coffeeshop. Her hand rests on her chest, feeling her heart work overtime as she replays the events that took place. She follows Byeongkwan's instructions, making her way home, preparing herself for a long night to make up for lost time.

A.C.E MASTERLIST

[phantom-curve]

find the strength, find the melody pt. 4 (working title)

I think I like this title but I can’t decide so don’t kill me if it changes!

also, you guys are amazing. your love for this lil fic makes me feel so happy. I’ve never written this much this fast for a side project. it’s actually starting to take over all of my writing so I might have to slow this roll a bit and catch up on my actual novel before I can post most. 

or maybe I’ll just lean into the insomnia writing even more! stay tuned to see!!

as always, lemme know if you wanna be added to the tag list! @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles (hey lookie there, a title! also sorry not sorry you cried, but at least you were in good company with me and Julie), @bluefyoto94, @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder​,  @kat-maybe-not​

Later that night, long after her father and Carlos had gone to bed, Julie crept out to her mom’s studio. She knew she was going to have to tell her dad about the music program eventually. She was shocked her Tía hadn’t beat her to it already. She needed something positive to offset the disappointment he would feel. Her dad had been gently prodding her to go out to the studio and at least maybe clean it up a bit for weeks now. He would love this improvement, that is, if she could work up the nerve to actually play. Sheet music clutched in her numb hands, she wrenched the studio door open. It was exactly as she remembered it.

Her eyes slipped shut as she stepped inside. She didn’t need to look to know where the couch, coffee table, and chairs would be gathered. She knew exactly how to avoid bumping into the ladder leading up to the loft. Her hand reached out just in time to catch on the fabric covering the piano, Julie allowing her fingers to lead her down the side of it until her pinky brushed a key. One soft note rang out, and her eyes opened, staring down at where she pressed lightly on the white key.

Her feet moved on their own, skirting around the bench, her knees bending automatically as she lowered herself to sit. A tight sensation built in her chest, her breaths picking up speed. The sheet music shook as she forced herself to lift the pages and spread them out on the music rack. She arranged the piece in the correct order, wasting time as she avoided touching the keys for now. Her eyes traced over the song again, her mind showing her exactly how her hands would dance along the instrument, exactly how her voice would reverberate in the silent space. Her gaze snagged on her mom’s final message once more.

You can do it.

Warmth blossomed in her chest, replacing the cold, lifeless feeling that had lingered there for the last year. Julie felt it all at once. Her mother’s love shining off of the pages in front of her, filling up all of the empty spaces inside of her. She could hear her voice, whispering those words in her ear. Tears sprang to her eyes again, but they were different this time.

Julie had thought that she would never be able to play without her mother because she never had. Every defining moment of Julie’s life was underscored by a soundtrack mastered by the one and only Rose Molina. She had thought that without her mother, the music would fall flat. She had thought it would be meaningless without the significance her mother, specifically, attached to it. Julie never realized until this moment that she had been the soundtrack to her mother’s life as well. The two of them, the soundtrack to her brother’s and father’s lives. It hadn’t only been Julie suffering for the last year.

A new type of determination surging through her veins, Julie placed her hands on the cool keys, lining her fingers up with the opening notes. Her mother deserved to be remembered like this, her music recognized and loved by more than just Julie. She would have hated the fact that Julie hadn’t played in so long, would have given her that sad smile, that soft, disappointed mija sigh. Her family deserved to come out of the silence she had forced upon them. They deserved to enjoy music the way they always had before Rose died. It was cruel the way she had taken it away from them. And Julie herself deserved this moment too. She had been punished long enough. Her mother’s love overwhelming everything else, Julie took a deep breath and began to play.

Here’s the one thing I want you to know

You got someplace to go

Life’s a test, yes

But you go toe-to-toe

You don’t give up, no

You grow

The opening was shaky, her fingers clumsy as they stumbled over the unfamiliar notes. Her voice cracked a bit, rusty from disuse. But then muscle memory took over, and Julie felt the tension drain from her body. Her fingers began to move with a mind of their own as she read the notes on the pages in front of her, voice smoothing out as she worked out the frogs. She made it through the pre-chorus easily enough, but the chorus hit her harder than expected. Like her mother was giving her permission to forgive herself for all of the hurt of the last year, reminding her that it’s who you are at your core that matters most. Telling her she still had the time to pull herself out of this spiral. That old message about how the music was always bigger than just the two of them coaxing her out of the shell she had hidden herself away in for the last year.

Better wake those demons

Just look them in the eye

No reason not to try

Life can be a mess

I won’t let it cloud my mind

I’ll let my fingers fly

Her fingers really were flying. She couldn’t even really feel the keys anymore, so sure as she pressed down against the ivory that she didn’t even have to look at the sheet music. Her eyes closed, head lifted as she belted the pre-chorus into the sky. The chorus hit again, but she was ready for it this time, emotion powering every line as she poured her heart and soul into each note. Visions of her mother filled her mind and Julie could practically feel the warmth of her love radiating throughout the studio. She glanced down to read the lines for the bridge and the words hit her like a sledgehammer. Like a secret letter from her mother written exactly for this specific moment.

So wake that spirit, spirit

I wanna hear it, hear it

No need to fear it, you’re not alone

You’re gonna find your way home

Her voice rang out pure and clear as she held the word as long as she could. Home. She really was home now. Here, in her mom’s familiar studio, playing the last song her mother’s hands touched, Julie was finally home again. The sense of rightness filled her completely as she finished the last round of the chorus. Her hands dropped from the keys, reaching out to gather the papers to her chest once more, the most precious treasure she had ever touched. 

Eyes closed, basking in the afterglow of playing, she imagined her mother’s spirit behind her, ghostly arms wrapping her in the sweetest hug. Julie shivered against the electricity coursing through her system. She felt alive again. An unexpected clatter sounded from the doorway. Julie’s eyes popped open, anticipating Carlos or her father walking through the doors. Nobody appeared, but she caught the tail end of a muffled curse. It was just loud enough to send a ripple of awareness through her.

“I can hear you, you know.”

She already knew who it was. She expected him to beat a hasty retreat, maybe yell something out in a horribly disguised voice before he melted into the shadows. Without warning, he appeared in the doorway, shoulders raised and a sheepish smile on his face. His eyes darted around the studio, refusing to meet hers. Her mouth fell open. Where does he keep appearing from?

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you, I just...I heard you playing?”

He said it like a question, an unsure tone she’d never heard him use before coloring his tone. She watched the way his bicep flexed as his hand rose to scratch at the back of his neck. That seemed to be his nervous tick. His body language told her he wished he was anywhere else right now. Then she glanced at the clock.

“What the hell are you doing creeping around my house at 1:00 in the morning?”

Luke’s cheeks turned bright red. The tips of his ears, peeking out of that same orange beanie, colored too.

“I’m not creeping!” Julie met his gaze steadily, raising a brow at his defensive declaration. “I uhhh, I just...I don’t really sleep? Or...well I guess...I don’t really have a place to sleep...sometimes...?” 

His voice trailed off, uncomfortable in every sense of the word as he stammered his way through his explanation. 

“My parents and I don’t always get along. Sometimes it’s easier to tell them I’ll crash somewhere else, only there isn’t always a somewhere else available.” 

He shrugged, careless and cocky, but it was off. Everything about him was off right now. 

“I make do. It’s no biggie, just gives me more time to soak in the club scene. Gotta stay one step ahead of the competition, ya know? It’s like a blessing really, gives us that edge.”

His rambling words painted a picture she was sure he would rather keep private. It didn’t take a genius to read between the lines. She didn’t buy his cavalier attitude for a minute. He was lying through his teeth. She knew. She had been lying for a year straight to practically everyone in her life, had nearly rotted her teeth through with all the saccharine sweetness she had faked. Her lips twisted in a sour smirk.

“You’re full of shit, but whatever. That couch pulls out into a mattress. You’ve gotta be gone by 6:30, that’s when my dad wakes up for work.”

“What?”

The squeakiest note yet. Julie looked Luke square in the eyes. That same intense energy from the other day sparked between them. The moment stretched on a beat too long. Julie gulped and forced herself to soften her tone. It was easier than expected.

“Stay here for the night, Luke. I’m not gonna ask about your parents, and no one is going to bother you in my mom’s studio. Sleep on the pull-out couch. There’s a bathroom in the back. It even has a shower and I think there’s still some soap in there though I can’t promise it isn’t floral scented. You can disappear in the morning and we won’t ever speak of this again.”

He stared at her, blue-green sea glass eyes cutting through to her very soul. She didn’t respond, letting the silence stretch and morph into something entirely too intimate. The tension between them pulled taut, Luke’s gentle smile breaking the moment as he took a few shy steps into the studio.  Julie ducked her head, tucking a few loose curls behind her ear, before she moved to meet him in the middle of the room, gracefully spinning around his body so her back was pressed against the doors. Their eyes caught again. One of those strong hands reached up to scratch at his neck once more.

“Thank you.”

The words were a quiet whisper, almost as sweet as when he returned the song to her earlier. She could hear everything he left unsaid with those two words. Thank you for not asking. Thank you for giving me a safe space. Thank you for caring. Unable to help herself, she bit her lip, gave him a small nod, and ducked out of the doors in a near perfect recreation of his response outside of the school that afternoon.

Heart a little lighter, she sneaked back into the house silently. It wasn’t until she was safely tucked away in the darkness of her bedroom that she dared peek out the window at the studio. The lights were off, but Julie swore she could make out a shadowy figure peering through the windows up at her room. She dropped her curtain like it was on fire, diving into bed and burying her head under the pillows. Heart racing, she laid with her eyes closed and tried to convince herself that Lucas freaking Patterson wasn’t slowly making himself a home in her heart.

[weirdochick56]

Hey hun, could you please write a high school au with Steve Rogers x reader? She’s a nerd and he is very very popular, the perfect jock on the football team? Super cliche, I know but I’m a sucker for these🥰 My English isn’t the best sorry😬

Hey love, that’s okay. I haven’t had much time to write so sorry this is so late and short, but here’s a little something I hope you like:

Boggs (Chris Evans HS AU One Shot)

Jock!Chris Evans x Nerd!reader

Warnings: fluffff

Disclaimers: I don’t own She’s All That Chris Evans or you.

Word Count: 1,327 words

*

(gif is not mine!!)

You take the misplaced book out from the shelf with a huff, practically shoving the right one into the empty slot. 

Your glasses slightly slide down your face due to the action so you use your free hand to perch it right back to the bridge of your nose. 

With another tiny sigh, you balance the small stack of books on your other arm, looking for the next title with exasperation. 

It bothered you that your “peers” couldn’t just put a book back where it belonged. It wasn’t that hard. And you had to pay the price for that. You got the honor of staying back after school to help the nice old librarian with keeping the alphabetized system running smoothly. 

Meh, it’s not like you had anything else to do anyway. Your social life was virtually nonexistent and your only friends were books, lonely as that sounds.

“Maybe for the pea-brained dweebs of this school it is that hard,” you mumble to yourself, putting another book in while trying not to fall off the ladder you’re standing on.

“What’s that hard for us?” a voice interrupts you out of nowhere, startling you.

You yelp, your foot slipping and you begin to fall back just as the ladder wobbles. Your books fly everywhere and instinctively, your eyes clench shut, awaiting the hard ground of the library. 

A few seconds pass and...nothing. 

You open your eyes, your heart racing. When they meet a pair of striking blue ones though, you grow confused. You realize strong arms are holding you-- tucked under your knees and shoulders. His warm breath is fanning softly your cheeks. Your arms are wound tightly across his shoulders and your chests are pressed against eachother.

“Careful there, babe.” And only when he speaks in that deep, charming voice, do you realize who exactly it is that caught you. 

 “Chris,” you breathe softly, gazing into his eyes. 

Chris Evans was your school’s star football player. A talented quarterback, he was the town’s golden boy. He came from a really well-off family too and his passion and drive on the field had everyone certain he had not only a bright future ahead of him, but one full of stardom.

He grins crookedly at you. “Y/n.”

Your lips part, your gaze practically glued onto his endless blue gaze. He slowly settles you onto your feet. 

You breathe in his amazing scent, awestruck. “Y-You know my name.” 

His grin grows amused. “And you know mine.”

You scoff. “Everyone knows yours.”

He shrugs. “I recognized you from that presentation you gave in English.”

You blush, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “O-oh.”

“Yeah, I loved it.” 

“You did?” You raise your brows at him, shocked that he liked your poem-reading.

He nods affirmatively, staring at you. 

You grow warm once more under his scrutinizing gaze. 

“You kinda remind me of Laney Boggs,” he suddenly quips.

You raise a brow, “I do?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, you do. I’m sorry but if you think the glasses and baggy clothes are doing the trick, you’re wrong.”

You frown. “Doing the trick?”

He smiles softly down at you. A smile you’ve never seen on him. Not during his games, not in the halls of this school and certainly not when he was with his friends or girlfriend.

It takes you aback instantly. 

“Of hiding how gorgeous you are,” he responds instantly. “See? Beautiful and lousy at hiding it. Laney Boggs.”

You can’t breathe. The Chris Evans just called you gorgeous and beautiful all in one sentence.

You don’t know what to respond so you just purse your lips nice and tight, nodding stiffly at him.

He nods down at you charmingly and you practically melt. “Well, I’ll let you get back to doing what we pea-brained dweebs of this school clearly can’t. See you around, Boggs.”

*

A Few Days Later

Over the last few days, things have been out-of-this-world weird. 

Chris Evans waves and smiles at you anytime he sees you. But something even weirder happened today during English. 

You were sitting on your desk taking notes when a scrunched-up piece of paper lands on your desk. You look behind you to see who threw it and your gaze clashes with no other than Chris freaking Evans. He smirks at you, motioning to the paper on your desk. 

You raise a brow at him before turning around and opening up the note up. What’s inside surprises you. 

You look nice today

You look back at Chris, who is still looking and smiling at you, and shake your head no. 

Not long after another note lands on your desk. You open it up.

I’m serious. You’re beautiful, smart, funny. I like you

Your heart instantly starts racing with exhilaration at the note and you smile to yourself. 

I like you. 

Those words reverberate in your heart like the sweetest song and although a part of you wants to believe so badly that it’s true and maybe Chris really likes you and thinks you’re pretty, years of repression and bullying make your insatiable self-doubt ever great. 

Guys like that don’t like girls like you. Teen movies were just that- movies. Real-life was cruel and unfair. You weren’t a princess and there were no happy endings.

After class, you’re walking down the hallway, nose buried in a book as always.

“Hey, Boggs!”

You lift your head from your book, freezing then turning around to the direction of the voice. 

Chris runs up to you. 

You smile bashfully at him. “Chris?” 

He offers you that same soft smile from before. “Hey. So um- I was thinking...”

“Yeah?” 

He rubs at his neck nervously. “Maybe you wanna come to my game tonight? I mean I know it’s not really your scene but I’d like to hang out with you after.”

You almost drop your book out of shock then instantly shake your head. “No.” 

He frowns. “No?”

You nod firmly, scowling. “No. If you think this is funny just stop. What, you think asking the nerdy girl out is funny? That I’ll fall for your stupid game? Well, you’re wrong. I’m not some naive little girl. I know you’d never actually like me.”

“What are you even talking about, Boggs?”

“J-just stop calling me that. Go back to your-”

“Baby!” The shrill voice of Chris’ girlfriend and easily the hottest girl in school, Addison Fray, comes crashing from behind you.

“Girlfriend,” you finish softly, spinning on your heel to walk away. 

“Boggs wait-”

“Baby, I missed you so much!”

Yeah, never gonna happen.

*

Later That Day

You’re walking down the hall, nose in a book once more.

“Stop avoiding me, Boggs.”

You instantly freeze, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“Look, I told you you can give it up already, okay? I’m not falling for your act. Plus don’t you have a girlfriend.” You try to side-step him, but he practically yanks you back.

“I broke up with Addison. Listen, Y/n,” his fierce blue eyes meet yours before he softens a little, his grip on your disappearing as he lets his hand dangle beside him. “This isn’t an act, babe. I like you.”

“Okay. Why?” You snap.

“What?”

“Why? Why do you like me?” You push.

He nods. “Alright. Because you’re you. And you don’t try to be anyone else but you. I like you because you’re always reading even when you know people will make fun of you for it. I like you because you don’t pay attention to any of that.”

“You don’t know me,” you say exasperatedly. 

“I do. I do because even when you think you’re invisible, I see you.”

You groan in frustration. “Chris, you can have any girl here. I’m just not-”

“Not what? Beautiful enough? Boggs, have you seen yourself?” He shakes his head unbelievingly at you. “I don’t know what asshole made you believe you were anything short of breath-taking but-”

“No, I’m not,” you insist, looking at your feet. 

“But,” he ignores you, taking your chin in his fingers and lifting your gaze to his sincere, soft one. “You’re fucking perfect and I like you. And I’d very much like to take you out.”

You look up at him, begging with your eyes. “Promise you’re not tricking me?”

He smiles softly. “Never, Boggs.”

You smile. 

“Then fine. I’ll go out with you, Siler.” 

[platinumnib]

Mayhem

"He found Dead... dead, in the bed" - Varg

An attempt at a modernist short story.

“Do you need anything else, mister?”

He looked a gloomy fellow with that pallid skin and the mop of black hair hiding half his face. The sort of person daddy would say to watch out for on the streets. But it was her turn to man the store and with how slow business had been of late, she couldn’t refuse anybody. 

He didn’t answer, only dropped a handful of coins and crumpled bills on the counter.

“Um… it’s only ninety krone,” she said.

He snatched the camera from her hands and nearly threw the door off its hinges on the way out. The tinny old chime was still ringing, swaying this way and that long after his car was out of sight. Whatever business the man was running back to, she hoped it was far away from their little store. 

She’d only learn - and wish she hadn’t - about the whole business upon seeing the evening news, but there’d been a death not too far away. Oystein was off to immortalize it.  

Pelle had already died once before. A mob of school bullies had kicked him until his spleen had ruptured and, for a moment, he had passed away in his hospital bed.

Ever since, he’d longed to go again.

Ever since, the rank smell of death had never been the least bit repulsive. He craved it, sought it out. Whether it was that of a stiff fox on the side of the road or a broken-headed sparrow he’d find lying around the property, the only thing that could excite him was a carcass.

That and the music.

The boys had found it a bit queer in the beginning, but they shouldn’t have, really. The first time they’d ever heard of him was when he’d sent his demo tape all the way over from Sweden - alongside a darling little mouse, gutted and tied to a little cross.

His joys in life. Maddening screeches out of the great black nothing and the stench of blood. His blood now.

He tried to say whatever, but little more than a grunt came out, a guttural gurgle; a ruby red spray misted the parquet. His throat was cut too shallow. He reached for a rag but it only served to drain more of his blood all over the floorboards.

Damn the cleanup, it wasn’t his business anymore.

Pelle grabbed onto the corner of the desk, straining, lifting himself onto the chair. His trembling fingers fumbled for a pencil, a piece of paper. He scribbled down a semblance of explanation, and by way of a title, he couldn’t find anything better than:

Excuse the blood.

He eyed the rifle by his bed, Oystein’s rifle. It only ever served when he was trying to drop a cat now and again. They’d get away every time, but he wouldn’t miss his own eye, would he?

It took a great deal of time and effort to drag himself onto the mattress. His special shell was under the pillow. An ordinary shotgun shell, really, pellets of lead encased in bright plastic and brass, but he had kept it aside all year for the task at hand.

He snapped the gun shut and slowly brought the barrel to bear, right against his forehead. His blood-soaked palm wrapped around the grip. It was just as the note said.

I’m not a human. This is just a dream and soon I will awake.

His thumb twitched.

Once the echo had died down, silence returned until Oystein’s car puttered up the driveway. The house looked as he’d left it that morning, cold and ancient, shrouded in the previous winter’s leftover fog.

He knocked.

“Dead, it’s Oystein.”

No answer came. He rammed his fist into the door again and again, shouting a string of imprecations.

“Dead! Dead, open up!”

Dead might not have heard him from the coffin where he slept, but if he knocked any harder he’d punch a hole through the wood.

It was no use. He circled the house and saw an open window on the first floor. Dead’s bedroom. He might as well fetch a ladder and kick the jackass up while he was at it. 

When he made it in, though, Pelle was asleep for good, right by his own brains.

There was more gore on the floor than he thought a body could ever hold. The smell of it all wafted up as the blood cooled and curdled. Before he knew it, Oystein was two rooms over, retching his lunch into the bowl and hoping beyond hope the entire thing was somehow a twisted prank.

It wasn’t. He’d left the madman alone one time too many, to run laps around his own sick mind… with a gun propped against the wall and a knife handy on the desk.

He stumbled back into the room. Unsurprisingly, nothing had moved. Dead was on his side, his face - the face of Mayhem - nearly intact, the eyes trained right at him. You did this to me, they said. Thank you. Oystein touched the corpse’s hand: cold, with a slight bit of give to the skin. Every hair on his body stood up at once and he recoiled in horror.

Horror; the scene before him was the purest, most organic manifestation of it. No painting, no movie, no music they’d ever written could compare with Dead, lying peacefully amid his own insides with bits of his skull and the tools of his mutilation scattered beside him.

Horror. The same horror Mayhem peddled in every one of their songs.

The soulless voice had left the world to see what lay beyond and Oystein - no, Euronymous - would force upon everyone the darkest emotions humans were capable of experiencing. Yes, that was just it.

With a picture of this, Mayhem would flip the world upside down.

Euronymous needed a camera.

[silverfootstepswrites]

Butterfly [42]

summary Nosy neighbors know nothing everything.

“I’m dead serious, Inuzuka,” Shikamaru declared. He sat up straight, hands clasped on the table. The proper posture made Kiba’s eyes narrow.

Kiba lifted a slice of persimmon to his mouth. He crunched through it, eyes filled with suspicion as he continued to glare at Shikamaru.

“You’re sure?” asked Kiba.

“100%,” answered Shikamaru, face solemn.

Kiba’s eyes darted to the doorway. Shikamaru’s did too.

Through the open door, they could see Sakura standing at the sink, her back to them. The water running in the sink masked most of what she was saying. But as she turned her head to the side, they could see that she was laughing. She handed off a dish to Itachi, who was apparently in charge of drying. Kiba’s head whipped back. He ducked his head, as if that would somehow make him invisible.

“You’re absolutely certain?” Kiba demanded one last time. Shikamaru gave a single nod of his head.

Kiba stole another glance through the doorway. And then he shrugged.

“Okay. I mean, I don’t see it, but you’re the smart one. I guess he likes her,” Kiba muttered, expression still filled with doubt.  

“Sensei. Your phone is ringing,” one of the students called out. But then she saw that Sakura was up on the ladder and ran to fetch it instead. She hurried back, reaching back as high as she could.

Kiba’s name flashed across the screen in silent. Sakura accepted it, mouthing ‘thanks’ to the student as she swiped her finger.

“What’s up, Inuzuka? It’s rare for you to call during the day,” she said. With her free hand, she slapped the spines of the books so that they all stood up straight. She gripped the side of the ladder as she spoke.

“Hey. Come see your cat,” Kiba said over the phone.

“Inuzuka. It’s not my cat,” she huffed. She was starting to feel like a broken record.

“Okay. I’ll see you later when you come visit. Bye!” Kiba yelled in one breath. He hung up before she could say anything else. Pulling the phone away from her ear, Sakura stared at it. She shook her head before she slipped it into her skirt pocket. One of the students steadied the ladder as she climbed down it.

“That sounded urgent, Sensei. Is everything okay?” one of the girls asked. Sakura made a face.

“It’s not worth repeating,” she sighed in response.

The girl who had retrieved Sakura’s phone leaned against the book cart.

“Back to my question, Sensei. What do you think I should do?” she insisted. She shook the cart a little. It rattled on its locked wheels.

Sakura blinked, as if to clear her thoughts. “Oh, yeah. Well, uh, did your parents say why they were so opposed to you going to Tokyo for university?”

She wasn’t really well-equipped to offer this kind of life advice. Sakura had never really experienced parental opposition and she had never really gone through teenage rebellion. Still, she could understand why some of the students were frustrated by the rules put in place by their parents. Sakura could also see how those rules were trying to protect them. The best she could was try to explain both sides.

Most of the time, the students grumbled that she wasn’t helpful. On the rare occasion, she said something that seemed to click. But Sakura was starting to see that it wasn’t really her fumbling advice that these students came to hear. They just wanted someone to listen to them.

The bell rang to signal the end of lunch. The girls helped move the cart to the back room. They greeted Sakura in a cheerful chorus before they left the library.

She ran into Shikamaru in the hallway. He was mid-yawn, arms stretched above his head.

“What’re we doing for Christmas?” she asked, falling into step beside him. She saw the odd look that flashed across his face. Just for a second. But a sly smile stretched her mouth.

“Unless you’ve already got plans? Who’s the lucky lady blessed to have a date with Nara Shikamaru?” Sakura demanded, poking her fingers into his side. Shikamaru swatted her hands away with his clipboard.

“Ow! Quit it! No one!” Shikamaru insisted. And when Sakura pouted, he bumped his fist against her shoulder.

“It’s just the singles club this year. And beer. And a cake, I guess,” he listed. Sakura considered this, nodding.

“Doesn’t sound like the worst party ever,” she said.

“Yeah,” agreed Shikamaru, sighing. And then he crossed his arms behind his head.

“I heard you’re adopting a cat,” he then commented.

“I’m going to murder Inuzuka and then you,” she declared. Shikamaru chuckled as they headed into the faculty room together.

Once school ended, Sakura headed to the rink. Kushina greeted her from the counter. She pointed to the new newspaper clipping she had taped to the wall next to the counter. The title of the article read, “The story behind figure skater Shimizu Haku’s programs this season.”

“They mention you a bunch of times in the article!” Kushina told her. And Sakura smiled, equal parts embarrassed and thankful. What had started off as a tiny space had grown into an enormous clump. Just like her mother had done, Kushina pounced on every mention of her name in the news. Newspapers, magazines- even online publications. Kushina posted every single thing she could.

The smile lingered on Sakura’s face as she headed onto the ice.

One of her favorite bands had released a new album just a few days before. She let the entire album play as she glided back and forth across the rink. A few of the songs caught her attention. They were worth choreographing something to. But she didn’t focus too much on that. Just moving the way that the rhythm guided her. She waved at Naruto when he slipped inside after finishing his homework. She wasn’t really in the mood to chat. And he let her skate unbothered, leaning against the side of the rink to watch her.

“Nee-chan, let me walk you home. It’s getting dark,” Naruto offered when she changed out of her skates. Sakura spared him a glance as she laced up her boots.

“Aw, that’s sweet, Naruto. But I’ll be fine,” she replied. She pulled a beanie over her messy hair. Clapping him on the shoulder, she hoisted her duffel bag onto her shoulder and walked past him.

And though she had made up her mind to ignore Kiba, she couldn’t help but glance down at her phone. The clinic would be closing soon. But Kiba would still be around. Sakura hesitated, turning this way and that on the road. Weighing the options. 

Heaving a sigh, she decided that it would be just a little too cruel to ignore Kiba. And on the off-chance that he actually had a good reason for asking her to come by, Sakura took off in a steady jog in the direction of the clinic. 

By the time Sakura arrived, it was completely dark outside. She walked in through the front door. The bell attached to the door jangled. The reception desk was empty. The door leading further into the clinic was ajar, though. And then she heard Kiba’s voice. 

“Haruno?”

“Hi,” she replied. She pushed past the door. She peered into the examination rooms, but they were empty. All the lights off. She wandered deeper in. The cages where they kept the patients staying overnight were empty too. The little dog she had seen last time had gone home to its owner. 

Finally, she saw light shining out from the storage room. Kiba sat on the floor. 

The box housing the kittens was tucked into the corner, closer to the space heater. Kiba had swapped out the towels lining the box. They were purple now. 

Sakura crouched beside Kiba. She swatted his back once.

“Alright, drama queen. Why did I absolutely have to come here?” she questioned. 

Kiba pointed. 

“They opened their eyes today,” he announced.

One of the kittens waddled away from its mother. Mewling, it crawled up near the edge of the box to reveal bright blue eyes. A high-pitched noise escaped from Sakura’s mouth. 

“Oh,” she said. 

“Look. She comes right to you,” Kiba pointed out, nudging her with his elbow. Sakura rolled her eyes. Because it wasn’t just one kitten that was making its way towards her. In fact, she wasn’t sure which one was the one she had held last time out of these balls of fluff. But Kiba picked one out without hesitation. 

“Here she is. Say hi to your human mommy, buddy,” Kiba said as he deposited the kitten in Sakura’s hands. The kitten weighed a bit more than she had the last time. She still mewled as she wiggled around in her hands. But as her hands closed around her, the kitten looked right at her. Eyes startling blue and watery. Her nose and mouth were still pink. Her ears were starting to look a little less nubby. 

“Hi! Look at you. Aren’t you beautiful?” Sakura cooed. But then she saw Kiba smirking at her.

“I’m not going to adopt her though,” she added in her normal voice. Kiba just nodded, looking completely unconvinced. So she asked, “Why are you so crazy about me adopting this cat anyway?”

Kiba picked up another kitten. Raising it to his face, he planted a kiss on top of its head. And then he shot her another smug look. “Not telling,” he retorted, sticking his tongue out at her. Sakura snorted. 

Sakura stroked the kitten’s fur, marveling at how soft it was. She noticed Kiba checking his phone. He set his kitten back down in the box before getting to his feet. 

“Ah, shit. My mom says she needs my help. I’m gonna head next-door for a bit,” he told her. 

Sakura’s eyes widened. She held up the kitten, who had begun to doze off against her thumb. 

“Uh. What am I supposed to do?” she asked.

Kiba looked the kitten over. Gave a shrug. “He looks comfy. Let him nap- just don’t drop him. I’ll be back soon,” he answered. 

“Inuzuka? Inuzuka! Get back here!” she hissed after his retreating back. When the door closed behind him, she looked back at her hands. The kitten had draped her tiny paws over her hand. The mother cat watched her from the box. Sakura looked at her. 

“So, uh... do you want your baby back?” she asked.

The cat blinked at her before letting out a yawn. She laid her head back down, eyes drifting shut.

“....Great.”

Kiba ran into his house as soon as he closed the door to the clinic. Akamaru came out of the house to greet him. But Kiba couldn’t spare him a scratch in his rush. He barreled straight into the kitchen, nearly toppling his mother.

“Kiba! Don’t run in the house!” she scolded. As she opened up the rice cooker, steam erupted into the air. 

“Sorry, Ma! Gotta make a call!” he replied, fumbling to pull his phone from his pocket. He struggled to even out his breaths as the line rang. Tsume stared at her odd son but stayed quiet as he held the phone up to his ear. The call connected on the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

“Uchiha! Heyyyyy, man,” Kiba said too loudly. 

“Hi. Is everything okay?” replied Itachi. 

“Huh?”

“....You called me. So.... is there a reason?” Itachi explained. 

“Reason? Um... um... “ Kiba fumbled. It struck Kiba then how unfailingly polite Itachi truly was. He even waited as Kiba’s eyes darted all around the kitchen. Trying to find an answer to such a simple question. All he could really see were the sautéed mushrooms sitting in the frying pan. 

“D-d-do you like shiitake?” Kiba blurted out.

There was dead silence on the other end of the line. Tsume stared at Kiba. Truly perplexed at how she could have given birth to such a strange and stupid son.

“Shiitake mushrooms? ...I like them,” Itachi answered. 

“Cool! Good! Great! Because- uh... my mom made a bunch. And...uh....she- she wants you to come to take some,” Kiba stumbled over his words. And as he spoke, Tsume began protesting that she had only made enough for their dinner tonight. Kiba flapped his hand at her, whispering for her to put them in a container.

“I know, Ma! Just do it! For love!” Kiba hissed, hand clamped over his phone. Tsume’s eyebrows rose.

“No! Not me! For Haruno!” he amended. 

Tsume huffed. She glanced from the mushrooms to Kiba. Slapping him upside the head, she moved past him to find a clean container.

“Well, that’s very kind of her. I could come by a little later,” Itachi said.

“Come right now, dude! She uh.... um... Ma?” Kiba petered off. He shot his mother a pleading look. Tsume pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers. She thought for a moment and then whispered, “Tell him to get them when they’re fresh. To have with his dinner tonight.”

“Ma says to get them when they’re fresh! So you can eat ‘em today!” Kiba relayed. Tsume shook her head as she closed the container. The green lid snapped into place.

“Oh. Well, I’m actually in the middle of dinner now. So that would actually be a little inconvenient for me,” Itachi informed them, quite reasonably.

“No can do, dude. Ma says to come now. And you know you should always respect your elders. Okay. Bye,” Kiba babbled out with a nervous laugh. And then he hung up before Itachi could say anything else. Tsume leaned her elbow against the counter, frowning at Kiba as he lowered his phone. 

“.... I’ve never even dropped you on your head. Why are you like this?” she wondered. 

Itachi walked across town to the Inuzuka Vet Clinic. He had been to the Inuzuka house a few times before. But he had never really spoken to Kiba’s mother beyond small talk. Still, it was very kind of her to think about him and to cook for him. He didn’t want to return her kindness with rudeness. 

As he neared the house, his phone buzzed. 

‘Mushrooms in the clinic. Go through back door,’ Kiba wrote.

(”Why would you leave it in the clinic? That makes no sense,” Tsume pointed out. “SH! MA!” Kiba snapped, crouching behind the curtains.)

Itachi read over the text twice. And then he slowly made his way around the clinic to the back door. There was a light on. His hand closed around the knob. It turned in his palm, door creaking open. 

“Hello?” he called. 

Silence answered. 

Itachi took one step into the clinic. Then another. Deserted hallways always had a way of creeping him out. Maybe it was all those horror movies he had grown up watching with Shisui. 

“Hello?” he said again. 

This time, there was an answer.

“Inuzuka, get over here. I’m going to die. Isn’t it bad for this kid not to sleep next to her mom? Am I allowed to put her down? Do I put her down on her butt or the feet things?” Sakura’s voice drifted down the hall. As Itachi stepped closer, he could hear soft meowing. He paused just in front of the room that said ‘storage closet’. He pushed the door open.

Sakura sat on the concrete floor, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder. There was a kitten snoozing in her hands. Other furry little figures bobbed around in a cardboard box at her feet. Her head whipped around as he stepped inside.

“Inuzuka!” she snarled. And then her eyes went wide. 

“....Hi,” Sakura whispered.

“Hello,” Itachi said in return.

They stared at each other. 

“...Are you... crying, Haruno-san?” Itachi finally asked. 

“He just left me! With these- I mean. What do I do? I don’t want to wake him up. Is that going to cause kitten trauma or something?” Sakura babbled. Itachi blinked several times.

“I.. was just told that there were shiitake mushrooms back here,” he simply told her.

“What?”

Kiba cackled from behind the curtain in the living room. It had been several minutes since Itachi had walked into the clinic.

“What exactly is the plan?” his mother asked.

“Duh, Ma,” Kiba retorted, looking away from the window, “A guy and a girl alone in a room. You always warned me about that for a reason.” He wagged his finger as he spoke.

Tsume snorted. “Yeah. When you were 16.”

Kiba’s phone rang. He answered without looking, turning back to spy out the window. A grin stretching his mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Why did Uchiha Itachi call me to tell me that you lured him into your clinic with mushrooms... and all he found was Haruno crying with a kitten?” Shikamaru inquired. 

“Dude. You make it sound so weird,” Kiba scoffed.

“Dude. That is weird,” Shikamaru pointed out.

“Whatever, man. Just call me Cupid,” Kiba stated. 

There was a long silence on the phone. And then he heard Shikamaru call, “Hey, Mom, I’m going over to Kiba’s..... No, he did something weird again.”

[vriskaserbet]

Uncle Gino.

Summary: Gino Fratelli thought of himself as a fearsome member of the mafia, as he was the second-in-command, the bosses right hand man. He had worked hard to obtain his position, climbing up a dangerous ladder to become more then an average grunt and for what was his reward? His ultimate position?

Becoming the worlds most gun-experienced babysitter.

Rating: General audience. 

Warnings: N/A.

Characters: Gino, Shelby, Smack, Pent, etc!

Tags: Fluff, domestic, domestic fluff, shopping, coming out, genderfluid gino, canon trans characters (aka pent), etc

Ao3 link: Right here!

‘Gino Fratelli lit his cigar. He took a deep inhale, savoring it’s warmth for some time before blowing it out of his open car window. He kept his engine on, ready and waiting to go. He parked far from the location, keeping a low profile from the normal, everyday citizens, as they went about their peaceful days. He regarded them as simple idiots, all just in the way of getting what he needed. Soon, his target would be coming down the street, package in possession, with two body guards to keep her safe. His job was to take that package to the… to the… I know, his job was to take it to shop. If not, he could face big trouble from the boss. Luckily, Gino was the absolute best at what he did. Nothing would stop him from- ‘

Gino let out a long groan, stopping his internal monologue as he rested his head on the car wheel. Even at his best, his own imagination couldn’t mask the sheer ridiculous job he had. He joined the mafia, expecting a life of crime, of danger, of shootouts and violence, all to get that sweet cash. When he first joined, that was the life he had lead, even beginning to climb up the ladders of hierarchy, soon becoming more than just an average grunt.

But now, as the bosses’ right-hand man and second-in-command, his main job and duty was to care for the boss’s daughter. Which did sound exciting at first, something incredibly important, but it was nothing but boring, everyday duties. Today, he was expected to pick her up as always, then drive to the local Blockbuster to return some DVD, before the due date expired. Then, he would have to bring her home, make sure she did her homework and make her a snack. That was it. That was his job. He was paid money for that. Lots of money. He had ended up becoming a glorified babysitter who could use a gun.

“Why did my life end up like this,” he grumbled to himself. He lifted his head up, glancing at the streets. Sure enough, he could see the kid. As he expected, her two best friends were right by her side as always, despite the fact they went to a different school. The two schools were quite a distance from each other, yet they always walked her to Gino’s car, then spent their day together. It was sweet, if he was being honest.

He waited patiently until they reached his car, where they all climbed into the backseat.

“Hey there kiddos. How are ya?” He titled his rear-view mirror, so he could get a good look of all three of them.

Shelby sat in the middle as always, smiling so sweetly and cutely. Her long, pink hair was kept into a tight ponytail. Due to going to an elite private school, she wore a uniform: a clean looking white blouse with a black ribbon, a plaid gray skirt, white stockings and little black Mary Janes on her feet. She had a pink backpack that was always falling off her shoulders, with little charms of animals attached to the side and stickers all over the back. In all honesty, it was difficult to imagine she really was the daughter of an infamous mafia.

Smack was to her left, who went a normal public school. He kept his blue hair in an afro, though the front was a little too long, the curls obscuring his eyes just a bit. Which was a shame, since he had heterochromia, his left eye being green and his right eye being blue, giving him a unique look. As it was hitting the winter months, he wore an oversized dark blue hoodie to keep him warm, a pair of old blue jeans and black sneakers. He had a bright red backpack, with those Super Mario characters on the back. Smack was a good kid, smart for his age, though he only came out of his shell when it was just Shelby and Pent. Otherwise, he was incredibly shy, introverted and quiet.

Speaking of Pent, he sat on the far right. He had short two-toned hair, his left side red and his right-side purple. He wore an old red sweater, one that had holes on the sleeves and was obviously too thin to help. His gray pants didn’t help either, since there were big holes on the knees. He was a skinny kid too, so everything worked against him. At least his red sneakers seemed fine, though clearly old, the markings on the side faded. He had a generic black backpack, with no design or pattern on it. Pent was like Smack, though he seemingly stayed rather soft spoken and shy most of the time. Gino liked Pent, since the kid was too damn nice and kind for his own good.

“We’re good, Uncle Gino!” Shelby said, swinging her feet happily.

“You got that DVD?” She took off her backpack and rummaged through it for a minute, pulling out a DVD. The cover had colorful characters on it, clearly some type of animated movie or show.

“Yeah! Don’t worry, I didn’t forget it!”

“Okay, good. Let’s get going. I’ll turn on the radio.”

He began his drive to Blockbuster, following his promise. Most kids would want the boring kiddy stations on, or something that played mindless pop songs. But, not little Shelby. He tuned into the hard rock station, chuckling as Shelby happily enjoyed the intense music. While focused on driving, he would look back to check on them.

They were all talking about their usual imaginative stories, Pent showing off his notebook filled with new drawings, Smack and Shelby sharing their suggestions and ideas. They were always smiling and laughing amongst each other.

‘Cute little bastards.’ He thought to himself, pulling into the Blockbuster parking lot. He turned off the TV, stepping out. The trio paused to put their stuff into their backpacks, then hopped out of the car. He didn’t miss how Pent immediately began shivering in the cold.

“Alright, let’s go.”

“Can I rent another DVD, please?”

“’Course ya can.” One of his duties was to buy whatever she needed or wanted, with little to no limits. He even had his own wallet for his shopping duties, refilled constantly whenever he even took two steps out of the house. As one could imagine, it was stuffed with money and credit cards.

“Thank you so much, Uncle Gino!” Yet, Shelby never acted like a spoiled brat. She was always so grateful for any and all gifts, despite her luxurious lifestyle. Gino was grateful that out of all the kids in the world, he actually got a decent one.

They entered the Blockbuster. They stayed close to Gino as he returned the DVD, though ran off the second he told them to find something. He sighed, watching them closely. They hurried to the section for kids, taking a bit of time to look around. Gino let himself browse the adult section for a moment, checking the latest comedies and dramas until he felt one of them tug at his pants.

It was Pent, avoiding eye contact aggressively. “We want to rent this one, if it’s okay.” It was one of the VHS tapes, of that Pokémon show they all went nuts about. The other two were nearby, distracted for a moment as they talked amongst themselves.

“Oh yeah, sure kid. C’mon, let’s go pay.”

“Thank you so much, Uncle Gino- “ Pent immediately blushed, shrinking back. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t- “

Gino laughed it off, giving him a smile. “Aw, it ain’t no problem kid. Ya can call me Uncle Gino, it’s no big deal. I’m not even Shelby’s uncle, y’know. She just calls me that.” Pent mutely nodded, still somewhat unsure.

“Yo, Shelby! Smack! We payin’ now!” He grabbed himself one of the dramas, walking to pay. All the while, he kept glancing at Pent, with his shy little smile. By the time they left Blockbuster, he had made his decision.

“Hey kids, wanna hit the mall? I need to buy some clothes.”

“Okay!” they all chirped in response, climbing into the back of the car again.

“Hey, why are we in the kids’ section? I don’t need any more clothes, thank you though.” Shelby said, looking around the Macys.

“Yeah, I thought you were gonna buy yourself stuff.” Smack commented.

“Nah, I’m not buyin’ for me. Or for you, Shelby.” The trio titled their heads, confused. “Pent, you definitely need some new clothes. Get whatever you want.”

Immediately, the poor kid began going into a nervous frenzy.

“I-I’m fine, Gino, it’s okay, I don’t need anything- “ he paused, when Gino held up his hand.

“Hey, Smack, Shelby. How ‘bout to explore the store, look around. I’ll give ya a text when we’re done, okay?” They nodded, holding hands as they ran off. Once they were alone, Gino put a hand on Pent’s shoulder, bringing him close.

Gino talked softly. “Look, I know your real shy ‘bout this sort of thing. Your parents probably raise you to be like that.” Internally, he doubted the actual intentions of Pent’s probably shitty parents, but he continued without pause. “But, you’re clearly getting cold in those old clothes. I don’t want you getting sick.”

“But… but, Shelby doesn’t need to wear that stuff!”

“Well, Shelby is a walking furnace. Besides, when she’s out of that uniform, y’know what she wears?”

“A sweater…”

“Exactly. Even Shelby has to dress for the cold… sometimes, at least. C’mon kid, let’s get a few things for you.” He paused, then grinned. “I’ll treat you to Cinnabon if you do.”

Immediately, Pent was swayed. For as much as he turned down any sort of help or gift, he couldn’t hold back from accepting any sort of food. “…Okay, but only if Shelby and Smack can get some to.”

“If I only got you Cinnabon, I’d have a little kid revolution at my hands. Besides, I want some damn Cinnabon.”

Pent hesitantly began looking around the clothes, checking the price tag of anything he liked.

“C’mon, you know money ain’t an issue. Don’t freak out about the price, just fine what you like.”

“O-Okay.”

“Here, how ‘bout this?” Gino pulled out a brown sweater, one that seemed thick to keep Pent warm, but not too thick. “Like it?”

“Yeah… it’s nice.”

“Alright, we’ll get it. But we ain’t done yet, let’s get a few more. And some pants to.” Pent nodded, not complaining this time.

While it was somewhat difficult at first, Gino managed to find three more good sweaters, two pairs of pants and even convinced the kid to get himself a Sonic T-shirt. At the T-shirt section, he began to notice Pent’s eyes were wandering… over to the girl’s section.

“You want somethin’ there?”

Pent immediately froze, focusing back to the boy section.

“N-No, I thought I saw Shelby. Hahaha, like I would wear that stuff! That’s… that’s for girls, y’know!” Pent nervously laughed, coughing into his hand as he folded up the Sonic t-shirt. “That’s the only thing I want here, we can go pay here.”

“Hey. Kid.” Pent paused, nervously fidgeting with the T-shirt in his hand. Gino looked around, noticing there were no nearby customer. He kneeled down to Pent’s level, resting a hand on his shoulder again.

“If ya want something… go get it. If someone in there tries to give you a hard time, we’ll just say it’s for your sister, okay?” Pent was an only child, but it wasn’t like any stranger would know that. “And you and me both know Shelby and Smack would never judge ya. Hell, I’m pretty sure whenever you guys play pretend, you all just swap clothes like crazy.”

Pent tightened his grip on the fabric. “I really… I really want to.” Pent admitted. “I… I don’t mind, dressing in what the… the boys in my school wear. I even really love wearing suits, when I go somewhere fancy. But… but, I just want… want to wear some… girl clothes to. Like a skirt… or something pink, something cute like… like what Shelby wears.” His face flushed red. “She’s so pretty… she lets me wear her stuff sometimes, yeah. S-She wouldn’t care. And Smack wouldn’t care… but… but I just don’t get it.”

He sighed, running a hand through his two-toned hair. “D-Do you ever… ever feel like… like you’re not really a boy but you still feel okay with… boy clothes? And being called he, y’know? In fact, being called she would be weird, y’know? Like… like you’re a girl, but in your own special way?”

Gino swallowed all his years of repression, just for this one moment. “Actually? I can relate.”

Pent turned to him immediately. “R-Really? You’re not just saying that, just so I can feel better, right?”

Gino shook his head. “Well, I can’t say I feel the exact same way. But, I can get it. Sometimes… I really don’t feel like a man. Sometimes… I’m more like a woman. Or both. Or really nothing. Or just a bit of everything. But y’know, I like wearing my ties and my pants and my vest. Most of the time, being called a he? It’s all good. No problem. So…” Gino tapped Pent’s shoulder again.

“You can be a girl in your own special way. I can be a woman in my own special way to, okay? No big deal. Feeling better?”

Pent, for once, gave a true smile towards Gino. Not a shy one, not a forced one, or one that was troubled, with his big eyebrows giving him away. He gave a truly happy one, his usual storm of anxieties and worries off of his mind for one moment.

“Yeah! I feel a lot better… Aunt Gino.”

Gino felt like he was shot fifty times through the chest, but in the best way possible. “Kid, you’re too fuckin’ nice.” Pent just giggled in response.

“C’mon, let’s go get you some cute ass clothes.”

Gino found a striped pink and white shirt, two pairs of white skirts, a frilly blue dress and even found a little pink ribbon hairclip. He had never felt so satisfied paying for anything in his whole life.

After reuniting with Smack and Shelby, they enjoyed a meal of sugary cinnamon rolls before heading back to Shelby’s home. There, Pent showed his purchase, much to the delight of his two friends. Gino was overjoyed how those two had created such a safe place for Pent, letting him enjoy all the parts of himself without shame or judgement.

As they worked on their homework, Pent wore his pink shirt, white skirt and hairclip proudly. The moment they were done, they went outside to play their usual games, laughing amongst themselves in the large garden. They watched their tape, played their usual mix of games on the GameCube, had their dinner and worked more and more on their stories.

Sadly, it finally came time to take the two home. Pent put on his new sweater and pants on, leaving his feminine clothes with Shelby, who promised to keep them safe in her room. She then said her goodbyes, via two lung-crushing hugs, then he drove off into their neighborhood. Smack and Pent were actually neighbors, thus it made the whole process easy for him.

When he arrived at their houses, Pent unbuckled his seatbelt. “Thanks for driving us home, Gino! Have a good night and drive home safely!”

Smack smiled. “Hey Pent, I’ll be out in one minute. I wanna talk to Gino alone. I realized on the way here I left something at Shelby’s house, so I’m just gonna tell him what it is for tomorrow.”

“Okay! See you in the backyard!” Pent hopped off and entered his home. Once he entered his front yard, Smack unbuckled his seat belt, hopping into the free front seat.

“Hey. I just wanna say… thanks for being understanding about Pent.”

“It’s no problem, really. Did you already know about this?”

Smack nodded. “Yeah, Shelby and I knew about this for a while now. Pent’s too nervous and anxious to really accept what he is, but he’s making good progress. I’m just glad he knows he has one more person on his side.” Smack turned to him, giving him a bright smile.

“Also, I totally heard him call you Uncle Gino. Mind if I do it to?”

“’Course, kid. Anytime.”

“Awesome! And to be honest… I actually did forget something over there. Can you remind Shelby to find my notebook, the one with the pony stickers on it? She can give it to me during recess.”

Gino nodded, then paused. “…Wait, you two go to different schools- “

Smack quickly opened the door. “WELL, I better not keep you late! Bye, Uncle Gino!” Smack ran to his house at the speed of a true kid in trouble.

He blinked, before letting out a loud bark of laughter. He stayed parked for another minute, snickering and laughing to himself, before he composed himself enough to start driving again. Oh, the idea of Shelby sneaking off every recess to spend time with her best friends was just too perfect. It was exactly the kind of stunt she’d pull. For someone so sweet, she wasn’t afraid to get sneaky at times. He was lying to himself, he could absolutely see how Shelby was the boss’s daughter.

“Welcome home, Uncle Gino!” She gave him a powerful tackle hug, though he had long since grown immune to her strength, managing to stay mostly still. He still wobbled somewhat, but only somewhat.

“Oof! I was barely gone a few minutes, kiddo.” He patted her on the back, closing the door behind him. She hopped off his chest, letting him lock it tight. He glanced at his watch, noticing it was getting a little close to her bedtime.

“Alright kiddo, wanna start getting ready for bed now?”

“Mmm, okay. I’ll go brush my teeth!”

“Alright. Let me get changed and I’ll tuck you in, okay?”

“’Kay!”

After undressing out of his work clothes, he put on a black T-shirt and an old pair of sweatpants. He had his own room in the house, due to his job. Despite some of his frustrations with his work, he did enjoy the luxury of the large, spacious room, especially with the fancy ass bathroom and wide closet space.

He entered Shelby’s room, finding her sitting on the bed. Finally, she seemed to be tired, rubbing her eyes and yawning. First, he plugged in her night light, since she was still scared to sleep in the dark alone. He pulled her blanket and comforter up to her chest, ensuring she was comfortably tucked. He went over to the shelves where she kept her stuffed animals. Unless in a particular mood, she randomly picked one every night, so they could ‘all get a chance.’ Or something like that, if he remembered right.

He picked up a Garfield. “This fine?”

“Yeah!” He gave it to her, that she hugged in her arms. With that, the bedtime routine was done.

“Okay, you need anything else?”

“No, I’m good…” she yawned again.

“Alright then. Sleep tight, flip your pillow to the cool side, good night and remember, make sure to fight off any nightmares with a crowbar, ‘kay?”

She nodded. “’Kay, Uncle Gino. Good night!”

He began to walk out of her room, but as he was about to shut the door behind him, he paused, for a long moment.

“Hey Shelby?”

“Mmm… what is it?” she asked.

“…I love you.” Shelby smiled slowly, the kind of cute, tired smile that would pierce through even the darkest heart.

“I love you to, Uncle Gino.”

Gino walked into his room, laid on his bed, realizing something both profoundly horrible and profoundly great.

He loved this. He loved his job. He loved every moment of being a glorified babysitter. Not for any of the perks, like the money or the room or the security, but the actual work of taking care of Shelby. Not just Shelby either, Pent and Smack to. He loved being called Uncle Gino and Aunt Gino, getting to spend every day with the little ankle biters, seeing them happy, seeing them play and hearing their laughs. It was the best job he had ever gotten in the world and it was something he wouldn’t trade for anything, not even his biggest dreams or desires.

Gino very slowly reached for the nearest pillow. With a gentle grasp, he gently covered his face with the pillow. He then, let out a loud, muffled scream.

[gaypasta]

do you want fries with that?

Chapter 6/? Read on Ao3 Chapter Directory

Stan waited patiently outside the Synagogue for his friends. It was early evening and the sky was greying with the night. Temple was over and he was standing outside the backdoor, bike leaning against him as he waited for his friends, like he did every Sunday. He had pulled an oversized grey jumper that his Gran had knitted for him last Hanukkah over his dress-clothes he wore to temple. His Father never liked him going out in them, but he hadn’t got them dirty yet so Stan didn’t really see an issue.

He wasn’t impatient, Stan just waited - looking up at the stars and trying to recall as many constellations as he could, wondering what it would be like to see the Earth from that distance. He could hear the familiar sounds of laughter and talking begin to float in from the distance, he climbed onto his bike so he could join the army of his friends without making them stop.

Bill was leading, shouting something to Mike who was to his right, who was laughing and looking at Eddie, who was scowling at both of them and pedalling with such force that Stan was afraid he might go over the handlebars. His eyes caught Richie’s who waved furiously at him, before wobbling and almost knocking over Ben, who had Beverly sitting on his handlebars.

Richie fixed his glasses before shouting something at Ben, who went bright red - it made Bev give Richie the finger. Stan didn’t really want to know what Richie had said, but it was more than likely a dig about Ben’s crush on Beverly. Stan kicked his bike stand up before slowly pedalling to join the mass of bikes which were throwing greetings to him as they passed by.

Stan joined at the end, keeping his distance from Richie who appeared to think he was playing bumper cars, trying to swerve into people. He swerved into Bill and Bill pushed him away, causing Richie to cycle face-first into a tree. Everyone laughed at him while he rubbed his nose and gave Bill the finger. Stan laughed a bit harder than he probably should have, Richie gave him the finger too. Richie jumped back on his bike and rode beside Stan, pulling faces at him every chance he could.

They slowed down as they turned into the almost hidden entrance to the quarry, going slowly to avoid crashing into trees or hedges, they were basically walking through a forest after all. the dirt was skitting up onto Eddie’s brand new jeans- which he proceeded to complain about for what seemed like hours.

“Eddie, I’m nuh-not carrying you again,” Bill announced, making Eddie’s face go red as he sped up and stomped down the hill.

They all reminisced over Bill carrying Eddie through the quarry. It was last year, when Eddie broke his arm and he was in a bulky cast. His shoes were slipping on the ice and after almost falling about six times, Bill had rolled his eyes and lifted Eddie over his shoulder. Eddie garbled out a string of swears and begged to be put down, Bill ignored his requests and held his legs to stop him kicking.  When Bill had put Eddie down at their previously favourite spot beside the river, Eddie’s face was beetroot red and he was repeatedly telling Richie to fuck off every time Richie opened his mouth.

They walked their bikes to their usual clearing and let them drop to the ground. Stan kicked his stand up and stood his bike up, because he wasn’t a monster.  This clearing had become their new usual spot, it was overlooking the river and was so densely packed with trees and wild bushes, that it was almost impossible to see into it from the outside. Bev had stumbled across it one day while taking a stroll with Ben, it had been since christened, ‘The Marsh’, which Ben had suggested, since Beverly was the one who found it. The only visible opening was between two aging oak trees, which led to a cliff which looked over a particularly deep part of the river. The ‘cliff’ was maybe only ten feet tall, but it was tall enough to dive off in the summer. Every summer Bill would carve away at the dirt to try to make a ladder to climb back up and every summer it wouldn’t work and whoever took the chance with Bill’s landscaping skills would fall back into the water.

Bill began discussing with Mike whether they should light the fire pit, Mike had said it was cold, so yeah - but it would be difficult to find dry enough wood in this weather. Mike unfolded the picnic blanket he always brought from the basket in his bike and laid it beside the soon to be blazing fire pit.

Stan and Eddie made a beeline for the blanket and sat down, neither wanting to sit on the dirty ground. Bev and Richie were standing by the oak trees, lighting up a pair of cigarettes and arguing about something or other. Probably movies, Richie had been on a Die Hard craze, and Beverly always argued that it wasn’t a Christmas movie. Richie always argued back, ‘ Yes it is! It’s set at Christmas, therefore it’s a Christmas movie, Bev!’

Stan didn’t think it was a Christmas movie, but he’d never seen it so he refused to get involved, no matter how many times Beverly asked him to back her up.

He thinks he sees Bill and Mike creeping off out of the Marsh over the hedge that Richie had accidentally cycled into a few weeks ago, which had ended up being the easiest point of entry and exit. Probably to get wood for the fire, Mike was brilliant at all the outdoors stuff, Stan was too, since he was in the boy scouts - but that didn’t mean he liked it, so he always sat back while Bill followed Mike’s instructions.

Even with his jumper on, it was pretty cold. He probably should’ve brought a scarf like Eddie had. But then again, Eddie was bundled up, looking like he was going off on an Antarctic expedition. Stan can hardly fault Eddie, considering he was sitting tying his shoelace with ease while Stan’s teeth were almost clattering from the cold. He gave a quick glance over to Richie, who was wearing shorts and a long sleeved-shirt with a dog eating an apple on it. He doubted Richie even sensed the cold at all.

Ben was showing Eddie his mixtapes, Eddie was carefully scanning each and every song title and commenting on them. Stan was vaguely paying attention too, but this wasn’t really his style of music so he didn’t have much of an opinion on the songs Ben had picked for Beverly’s mixtape but he nodded and told Ben they looked great anyway. Eddie was interrupted from talking to Ben about Duran Duran by Richie shouting for him.

“Hey, Eddie, get over here I have something really cool to show you!”

“Richie, I swear to God if you show me your belly button lint again I will end you.”

Richie scoffed, “No, I swear! Come here quick, before it’s gone.”

“If it’s a bug I’m not coming over.”

“No, it’s my boner, Eddie, come give it a tickle!”

Eddie sighed a swear under his breath and got up, moving around Bill and Mike who had just re-entered the Marsh with hands full of almost-dry moss and sticks. Mike moved with Bill to set up the fire, Beverly offering them her lighter. Stan watched as Mike’s expert hands crafted a bed of moss, building the sticks on top of it, like a Native American teepee sitting on a hill.

“Richie, what the fuck, get off!” Eddie screeched, causing everyone’s heads to snap to the scene of Richie trying to push Eddie into the river, while Eddie was clawing at Richie’s arms and grabbing onto his shirt to stop himself falling.

“Richie, s-stop, it’s c-cold out.” Bill had scolded, but his face looked anything but scolding. He was stifling a laugh and tried to hide his face from Eddie, who was looking around in panic, eyes pleading for help.

Richie laughs around his cigarette as he managed to release himself from Eddie’s grip and Eddie let out an animalistic yell before plummeting into the water. Bill sighed as he tenderly tried to inch his way down into the river to give Eddie a hand up.

“Richie, he’s guh-guh-gonna kill you.”

“You can only hope, young one.” Richie’s eyes fell on Stan, who was sitting on his own as Ben and Mike went to get more sticks for the fire, which now was needed to be burning bright and hot to stop Eddie getting hypothermia. Richie marched over, flicking his half-smoked cigarette off to the side before lying beside Stan, so close that his only slightly knotted hair had splayed out on his neatly ironed black slacks.

“Did you see that?”

Stan looked down to Richie, who was looking up at him, waiting for an answer. “You throwing Eddie into a freezing cold river? Yes, Richie, I saw. We all saw and we all agree that you’re a dick.”

“Hey! That’s not true, right Bev?”

Bev shook her head, “It was kind of a dick move.”

“Well, Bill thought it was funny. He’s the kind of friend I need in my life, someone who will encourage me, not berate me for my personality. I can’t help it if I’m a dick! It’s who I am, and you, as my friends, should accept that.”

Stan rolled his eyes as he softly gave Richie a slap to the head. “I don’t think we need to accept bullying someone the size of an eight-year-old as part of a personality quirk.”

Richie scoffed, “He was asking for it.”

“By doing what? Sitting quietly and minding his own business?”

“Exactly!”

Stan scoffed in response, his eyes caught a soaking wet Eddie being lead through the bushes back into the Marsh by Bill, Mike and Ben. He looked as if he was being walked to his deathbed by three reapers, his lips were almost blue and he was shaking profusely. Stan ushered himself away from the fire, making a space for Eddie, who sat beside him with a plop. Eddie was soaking the blanket, not that anyone really took notice. Water dripped off his eyelashes and fell down his face, he shook his hair with his hands to dry to dislodge as much water as he could.

“Richie you’re a fucking asshole.”

“Awww, Eddie don’t be so grumpy. You know you love me.”

“No. Fuck off, I’m mad at you. I’m gonna catch hypothermia and die and it will be all your fault.”

“You know, sitting in wet clothes is gonna make you sicker.” Eddie’s face paled, “You should probably strip.”

“Richie leave him alone, you’re freaking him out! Look at his face, he looks like he’s about to faint.” Beverly began petting over Eddie, trying to reassure him that he wasn’t going to get sick.

“Actually, Richie’s kind of right.” Stan piped up, Beverly shot him a glare, as if he was lying. “You should probably get into some dry clothes, the wet ones will just make you colder.” Eddie nodded, knowing Stan wouldn’t lie, taking off his scarf, which had appeared to double in weight by the sound it made when he dropped it onto a rock beside him. Beverly helped him unbutton his giant coat, his fingers were shaking too much to even try to do it himself.

It wasn’t long before he had began to pull off his t-shirt, which was hidden under four other layers of clothing. Bill had shrugged off his flannel shirt from underneath his jacket and gave it to Bev, who helped Eddie button it up. Mike donated his denim jacket, and much to Eddie’s mortification, Bev had slipped off the leggings she was wearing under her skirt and let Eddie wrangle his wet legs into the skin-hugging fabric.

Richie had donated his glasses, since he was already wearing the bare minimum. Eddie smacked his glasses out of his hands and no one helped Richie look for them. It took him five minutes and they were covered in mud.

After about ten minutes of everyone fussing over Eddie, colour began to flow back into his cheeks and he stopped shivering. It wasn’t long before he was back to the world of the living. Bill was still fretting over him, acting like a mother hen.

“Richie, did you b-b-bring cocoa or tea or a-anything in your thermo today?” Bill asked while Richie was rubbing the dirt off his glasses with the apple on his shirt. Stan winced at the sight of a giant smudge of mud spread on his previously clean shirt.

“Nah, we had nothing in the house today, sorry kid.”

“Wait, so you didn’t bring anything?!” Eddie complained, glaring at Richie.

“You always bring the fuh-fuh-food on a Sunday, Ruh-Richie.”

Richie raised his hands defensively after sliding his mostly clean glasses onto his face, “All I had in the fridge was butter and raw onions, so if you all want to go back to mine and raid the luxuries of the Tozier refrigerator, then be my guest.”

Bill sighed, exchanging a look of disappointment with Eddie before digging into his pocket and procuring a crumpled $5 bill. “Here, go and buh-buy something, h-hot if you can. Bring Stuh-Stan.”

Stan nodded as he glanced at his watch, “It’s late, I should probably get going now anyway.”

Bill shrugged, with a small grin playing on his face. “It’s late, who know what kuh-kuh-kind of trouble Richie cuh-could get into? You should go with h-him to the store at least.”

Stan’s face deadpanned. “So I’m babysitting Richie? Because I don’t do that enough at work?”

Richie jumped up and took the crumpled note from Bill’s hand and began pulling at Stan’s arm, “C’mon, Dad told us to go, Stan, get off your ass.”

Stan gave Bill a look that could kill, before getting up and giving Richie a small shove towards their bikes. Bill just smiled back at Stan, “Th-thanks guys! See you at school, Stan.”

Stan waved his hands in farewell to his friends, some he would see tomorrow morning in school, some he wouldn’t see until tomorrow evening, at the same location.

Stan walked his bike out of the dense trees and back onto the suburban roads of Derry town, Richie talking excitedly in his ear about what he was going to buy.

“You’re not going to get a pineapple upside-down cake at eight o’clock on a Sunday night, Richie. Everywhere is closed.”

Richie frowned as he pedalled down the main street, “So we’re gonna have to go to the twenty-four hour?” He scrunched his face up. “That place sucks though, the owner is such a creep - did you know he made a pass on Beverly last week?”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah, right - we were cutting class - don’t give me that look it was only Bio - anyway, we were cutting class and we went to buy some smokes -”

Richie began retelling the tale, right up until their bikes skidded to a halt outside said creepy-man’s store, Richie hopped off to walk in, looking back when he realized Stan hadn’t shifted.

“I’m not going in.”

“He’s not gonna make a pass on you. Don’t flatter yourself.”

Stan shook his head. “Not happening.”

Richie rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically as he marched into the store. He came out barely two minutes later with a paper bag full of sugary snacks, probably. Richie tossed the bag into the basket in the front of Stan’s bike and lifted his own bike from the pavement.

Stan was just about to cycle off before Richie’s voice made him halt. “Shit, I still have your Yogi Bear at my house. I just looked at the empty space on the back of your head and realised I forgot to bring it to you before temple or whatever you call it.”

“You’re not even trying to get it right, are you?” “Nope. We’ll go get it on the way there.”

Stan shrugged, “Okay,  as long as it doesn’t take you an hour to find it, Mom’s pretty annoyed at me for not coming home last night.”

Richie stuck his tongue out and began pedalling down the orange-lit roads. Trees seemed to fly past as they pedalled down to Richie’s house, which wasn’t that much of a diversion - it was maybe an extra five minutes onto their journey.

It wasn’t long until Stan was stood inside Richie’s bedroom while Richie looked through the drawer in his bedside locker.

Richie’s room was actually clean. Like, not just tidy, but clean. His mirror had even been polished. Stan stood in awe as he inspected the floor, that he could see! All of Richie’s comics had been neatly stacked on his desk, and his trashcan had been emptied and his closet, oh his closet was closed. It wasn’t spilling out clothes, you could actually close the door. Richie noticed Stan looking around the room in awe.

“Yeah, Eddie offered to clean it.”

“Offered?” Stan was doubtful.

“In exchange for a blowjob. You’d be surprised what people would do for one from me, you know.” “No, I don’t know.”

“Do you want to find out, then?” Richie winked at Stan, fluttering his eyelashes from behind his glasses.

“Have you found it yet?” Stan sighed.

Richie nodded and threw the round hat at Stan, who caught it in one hand. “Yeah, I was gonna use it as a frisbee, but I thought It would work better as a jerk-off sock.”

“Shut the fuck up. Does your Mom have hairpins? Dad already thinks I’ve lost this, so if I came home without it again he’d probably lecture me on the importance of keeping track of my belongings.”  

“Oh, Mom loved the cake, by the way. She ate nearly half of it on her own today.” Richie smiled, “She went to the liquor store and only brought home one case of beer, so it must’ve been out of this world.” Richie ruffled Stan’s hair in thanks, and Stan batted his hand away out of habit, but he was smiling.

“Hairpins?”

Richie nodded enthusiastically, “I will fetch them for you, my dearest master. Do not strain yourself! I will rub your feet for you too.” Richie bounced off out of the room and into what Stan assumed, was his mother’s room. Stan sat on the bed and waited for Richie to return, softly tracing the edge of his yarmulke as he looked around the room. He had spent quite a lot of time in Richie’s room this weekend, it was starting to feel familiar, like he was meant to be here. Stan felt comfortable in Richie’s room, even comfortable talking to Richie himself. The conversation didn’t feel forced tonight, it was light, topics flowed easily and swiftly through their words and Stan felt pretty happy listening to Richie’s stories tonight.

Richie came parading through the door, carrying a palm-sized silver tin, which rattled when he walked. “What did you think of that voice? It’s a new one I’m trying out, so be kind.”

Stan took the tray off Richie in a nod of thanks and opened it to a dozen or so bobby pins. “It’s definitely not your best, but it has potential, especially for Bill.”

“Yeah, for when Bill’s being super bossy,” Richie started attempting to imitate Bill, “D-do that Richie, do this. Don’t puh-pull my pants down again! Puh-please stop being so hot, you’re muh-making me develop a fuh-fever.”

Stan snorted as he placed a triad of pins into his mouth, as he set upon beginning to pin the yarmulke into this hair. “That wasn’t very good.” He commented out of the side of his mouth.

Richie didn’t respond, he was too busy staring at the bobby pins which were delicately placed between Stan’s lips. He was probably grossed out that Stan had put them in his mouth, but it wasn’t technically in his mouth, Stan was just holding them with his lips.

Stan sat in concentration as he attempted to open the pins enough to slide it into his hair, but it was near impossible. It kept slipping out of his thumb just as he was about to clip it in, he let out a sound of frustration, which made Richie jump.

“Jesus Christ, chill out. Here, I’ll put it in there’s no need to turn into the Terminator.”

Richie took the bobby pins out of Stan’s mouth a little forcefully, accidentally brushing his hand against his lips. He stood up and told Stan to spin around on the bed, so his back was facing Richie.

Richie pinned Stan’s yarmulke into his curls, only stabbing him in the scalp once or twice. Stan couldn’t see how it looked, but it felt like it was in the right place, so he didn’t comment. Besides, he’d be taking it off in less than an hour when he would be going to bed, so it didn’t really matter if it was perfect. Stan could feel the yarmulke pinned securely on the back of his head, yet he could still feel Richie’s fingers going through his curls and fiddling with certain strands of hair. Perhaps he was fixing Stan’s hair. So Stan stayed put for another few minutes, while Richie played with Stan’s hair in an almost trance-like fashion before they both agreed it was time to move out.

Out of the corner of Stan’s eye when he was leaving the house, following Richie, he noticed his half-eaten cake on the kitchen counter. He smiled to himself and left the house, the cold wind biting his face as he walked towards his bike. “I’ll walk you home.”

Stan looked at him quizzically. “Why?”

Richie looked offended, “Because I’m a gentleman, Stan.”

Stan had no real reason to retort, it was Richie’s own time he was wasting, so he murmured a soft ‘Okay’ and began cycling home.

They were laughing at a story Richie was telling about Bill falling flat on his face in Gym the other week, blood pouring out of his nose as he swore at the ground. Stan was glad Richie didn’t try to swerve into him because he doubted that he would be able to steer away in time to avoid a collision.

They talked and laughed together underneath the orange glow of the mostly functioning streetlights, hair being thrown backwards by the cool wind. Stan could feel the wind penetrate the small holes in between each stitch of his jumper. It felt refreshing.

Stan pulled up at his house five minutes later, and gave Richie the bag of food from his basket, wondering how he was going to cycle back to the Marsh one-handed. He parked his Bike by the letterbox and made his way to the front door, the porch light had made Stan almost glow through Richie’s glasses and just as Stan had begun to turn the door handle, Richie had yelled out, without really meaning to.

“Stan!”

Stan blinked, head shooting back to Richie. “What?”

Richie looked like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing and eyes wide. Stan wondered why he would shout if he had nothing to say. But he did, Richie in fact, had a lot to say, he just wasn’t sure how to put them into words, so he did the best that he could.

“You’re my best friend.” Richie scrunched his eyes up as soon as he said it. That was the best that he could do.

Stan blinked. Feeling doubt ripple in his stomach. “No, I thought Bill was your best friend.” “Well, he is but… you’re my best-best friend. Like if I had to rank all of you, which I do every time someone crosses me - just to let you know, for the next time you don’t laugh at my jokes -  you’d be number one. Bill would be number two, Beverly was number three, but after that dirty look earlier, she’s being demoted to number four so… congrats to Mike, I guess.”

Stan let his hand fall off the front door and he stood on his porch, looking at Richie. “What led you to that… conclusion?”

Richie’s face fell, he tried to hide it but Stan noticed it, “I mean, it’s cool if I’m not in your top three, that’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”

Stan brushed a stray curl out of his eyes, “No, I just mean, why?”

Richie tilted his head in confusion, “Why?”

“Yeah.”

Richie leaned back on his bike and took a deep breath and let a long whistle out, “Well, if you want me to list everything you’ve ever done or said that bumped you up that list I can. But it would take like fuckin’ twenty years and it’s a school night so…”

Stan nodded, a lump was in his throat and he couldn’t quite make it go away.

“But uh… I guess it’s just as simple as you’re a pretty cool guy. Well not cool. Definitely not cool. But, you’re a good friend and I like you. I like you being my friend. Because we’re friends.”

Stan couldn’t help the smile that snuck up onto his face, and he couldn’t quite help the bubbling feeling in his stomach. “Yeah, I think you’re my best friend too.”

Richie coughed and hid a small smile. “Good.”

They stayed like that for a few moments longer, Stan almost feeling dizzy and Richie awkwardly scuffing his shoes against the pavement, swatting at mosquitos every time the tried to invade his personal space.

Stan couldn’t quite feel the cold as harsh as he could earlier and he began wishing he didn’t have to come home. He has a best friend, which is a pretty new development in his life, which is probably why his stomach feels so strange. It felt the same way it had when he had his first kiss with Lucy Braxton, which Stan supposed meant he was really happy to have proper best friend.

“Well um…” Richie had started, holding the paper bag tight on his lap, he must’ve really wanted to keep that food safe, Stan didn’t think he needed to hold it that tight. “The sexual tension here is too much.... so, if you want a booty call you know where I’ll be.”

Richie waved with one hand, as he fumbled his way down the street, swaying dangerously and almost knocking over the neighbour’s trash cans. Stan waved back, before quickly moving through the house and up to his perfectly kept bedroom.

When he got into bed, all he could think about was Richie.

But, to the embarrassment of Stan the next morning, it seemed that Richie stayed on his mind all night, even in his dreams.

[the--blackdahlia]

Rock of Ages Chapter 2 (Jared x Reader)

Title: Rock of Ages Chapter 2

Summary:  (Y/n) was inspired to leave Kansas for California after seeing rock star Jensen Ackles. But is California all she thought it would be? Can Jared Padalecki, an up and coming musician, convince her to stay?

Warnings: None

AN: Songs for this chapter are “Fallen Angel” by Poison, “Just Like Living in Paradise” by David Lee Roth, and “Nothin’ But a Good Time” by Poison.

(Y/n) stared out the window of the bus she was on as the farmland started to disappear. She had boarded the bus in Lawrence and was almost to Los Angeles. She couldn’t wait to be in the city of lost angels. She looked down at the suitcase on her lap. She had clothes and other things in there, and she had her record collection. She wasn’t about to leave it in Kansas for her mother to throw away in a couple years. Plus, all her little things were in her purse, so she had more room for the records.

 Finally, the bus pulled to a stop on the sunset strip. (Y/n) jumped up and smiled, her face lighting up as she looked around. The driver looked down at her.

 “She stepped off the bus out into the city streets. Just a small town girl with her whole life packed in a suitcase by her feet.” He sang. (Y/n) looked around from where she stood, a smile on her face.

 “This must be just like living in paradise.” (Y/n) sang, walking over to a pillar where posters for bands were plastered on. She grabbed on and smiled. Arsenal. The driver cast her one last look.

 “But somehow the lights didn't shine as bright as they did on her mama's TV screen…” He shut the door to the bus and moved down to pick up people smart enough to head out. (Y/n) looked around as she made her way down the street.

 “And I don’t want to go home.” She sang, taking in everything. Three girls hanging out on the sidewalk stared at her as she walked by. They followed her, singing to her.

 “But you know you got to stick to your guns when it all comes down. Cause sometimes you can't choose. It's like heads they win, tails you're gonna lose.” (Y/n) stared at them with wide eyes but she continued on her way. She passed more people on her way down the sidewalk, a smile on her face and bouncing along. She was new, they could just tell from her walk.

 “Win big, mama's fallen angel.” A guy sang to her as he ran passed her, being chased down by the LAPD.

 “This must be just like living in paradise.” (Y/n) sang, watching him run.

 “Lose big, living out her lies.” The guy sang as one of the cops tackled him. (Y/n) gasped.

 “This must be just like living in paradise.” She sang, standing off to the side. One of cops smiled at her.

 “Wants it all, mama's fallen angel.” He sang to her. She smiled back and walked off, the spring returning to her step as she made her way down the street.

 “This must be just like living in paradise.” She smiled as she watched a guy perform in the middle of the sidewalk to a group of people. He had no instruments, but he sure was entertaining. He looked at her in the middle of his set and smiled.

 “Lose it all, rolling the dice of her life.” He sang. She walked by and fluffed his hair.

 “And I don’t want to go home!” She spun around, excited about being in California at long last. She had expected more of the Jensen Ackles type crowd to be hanging out, but she wasn’t disappointed to what she had found. Everything was so bright and colorful. A little dirty, but no place was perfect. She smiled at a guy who walked over to her.

 “Hey, you must be new here.” He said.

 “Yeah, how can you tell?” She asked.

 “How about I give you the nickel tour?” He asked.

 “Awe that’s so sweet.” She said. Just then he grabbed her suitcase and ran off. The women that had been standing there with signs, picketing the Sunset Strip, did nothing.

 ****

 “Jared! Jared! Jared!” He heard chanting his name as he stood on stage in front of his adoring fans. But why was the stage shaking? Was it another damn earthquake? Not before his big performance.

 “Jared, wake the hell up man!” Misha said, slapping Jared’s arm and shaking him. Jared groaned and opened his eyes, wiping the drool off his chin. “What are you doing? People are lining up. So you thought it would be a perfect time for a catnap?” Jared stood from where he had been lounging and stretched his muscles. People started to file in then and soon, the Bourbon Room was packed.

 “Jay, trash takeout!” One the people behind the bar called to Jared. He groaned and grabbed the bags heading out to the alleyway where the dumpsters were.

 “Not a dime, I can't pay my rent. I can barely make it through the week. Saturday night I'd like to make my girl. But right now I can't make ends meet.” Jared sang, throwing the bags into the dumpster and stomping back up the steps into the building. Jared made his way into the storeroom, snagging a case of beer to take back up to the bar. “I'm always workin' slavin' every day. Gotta get a break from that same old same old. I need a chance just to get away. If you could hear me think this is what I'd say.”

 Jared set the beer on the bar and watched people dancing around, girls pretending to be strippers and guys being dumbasses. The band on the stage was rocking away. And Jared wanted to be there.

 “Don't need nothin' but a good time. How can I resist? Ain't lookin' for nothin' but a good time. And it don't get better than this.” Misha walked up to the bar then, fluffy up his black hair. Jared took in his union jack t-shirt and rolled his eyes some. Misha picked a drunk up off the floor and dusted him off before sending him on his way.

 “Misha, how come you never take out the trash?” Jared said as people moved around the bar behind him. Misha smiled at him.

 “You’re a musician, you’re supposed to suffer.” Misha explained with a laugh. “I’m talentless. Suffering is wasted on me.” Jared rolled his eyes.

 “Oh yeah? When is the last time you suffered?” Jared asked, helping one of the waitresses load up her tray.

 “At six this evening, when I had to get up for work!” Misha laughed. He looked up and saw one of the stage lights was out. He went to a service ladder and climbed it.

 “They say I spend my money on women and wine. But I couldn't tell you where I spent last night. I'm really sorry about the shape I'm in. I just like my fun every now and then.” Misha hit the light, making it come back on. He swung over to the catwalk where people were dancing and landed on both feet, just like a cat. He ran down the catwalk, getting high fives as he went. “I'm always workin' slavin' every day. Gotta get a break from that same old same old.”

 “I need a chance just to get away. If you could hear me think this is what I'd say.” Jared sang, pulling bottle of beer out of the box and putting in the cooler to chill. No one likes hot beer.

 “Don't need nothin' but a good time. How can I resist? Ain't lookin' for nothin' but a good time. And it don't get better than this.” Misha and Jared sang at the same time. Jared and Misha were running around, Misha giving beer to people while Jared check the inventory at the bar. They looked up to see their boss, Jeffrey Dean “Jeff” Morgan standing up on the bar, holding a glass in his hand. The old Vietnam vet was wearing jeans and leather, but compared to the others in the club, he was a little old fashioned. Not that it mattered to him.

 “You see I raise a toast to all of us who are breakin' our backs every day. If wantin' the good life is such a crime, Lord, then put me away! Here's to ya!” Jeff lifted his drink in a toast, getting cheers from his paying customers. He took a drink before jumping off the bar, the crowd catching him and surfing him across the club.

 “Don't need nothin' but a good time. How can I resist? Ain't lookin' for nothin' but a good time. And it don't get better than this.” People in the club sang, making Jared smile.

 “Get off me.” One of the waitresses, an older woman named Beth, said as she pushed a guy off of her. “Jared!” Jared saw what was going on and went over to Beth, grabbing the guy and pulling him off of her.

 “Beth, you okay?” Jared asked, looking her over. She raised her hands.

 “I’ve had enough of this. I quit.” She called over the guitar.

 “Beth wait!” Jared said, trying to stop her. She walked away and Jared sighed before grabbing her harasser and tossing him out of the club. He looked across the street as a man stole a suitcase from a girl. Jared ran over as the man ran off. “Hey! Are you okay? Did he get your money?”

 “He took my records.” (Y/n) said, running her fingers through her hair. Jared had the goofiest smile on his face as he watched her. He held his hand out to her.

 “I’m Jared.” He said. She took his hand and shook it.

 “I’m (Y/n).” She told him. She eyed his tank top. “You work at the Bourbon Room?”

 “Huh? Oh yeah.” He said, forgetting what shirt he was wearing. “I work the bar and such. But someday, my name will be on that marquee.” Her eyes lit up.

 “You sing?” She asked. “So do I!” Jared smiled at her.

 “Do you need a job?” Jared asked. Her eyes widened. “Jeff owes me a favor or two. Come on, let’s go talk to him.” She smiled and followed Jared to the Bourbon Room. Maybe the night wasn’t going to be that bad after all.

Tag List: @petrovadixon @smoothdogsgirl @tornjeansandabrokenheart @theas-bedtime-stories @aiaranradnay

[sheerfreesia007]

Fallin’ All In You (Pt. 65)

Title: Fallin’ All In You (Pt. 65)

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007​​

Words: 2,271

Warnings: Soft smut, pregnancy sex

Tags: @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​, @two-unbeatable-beaters​, @randomness501​, @sevvysaurus​, @paryl​, @talesfromtheguild​, @secretsihideinside​, @agingerindenial​, @mrschiltoncat​

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711​, @fioccodineveautunnale​, @phoenixhalliwell​

Author Notes: Oooh! I loved writing this one! I loved the nesting stage of pregnancy. To prep for my little beast my husband and I decided to tie dye onesies for him. They came out really cute and I loved doing them. Feedback is always welcome!

Gif Credit: Pinterest

         Placing a hand over your rounded stomach you sigh softly as you look around the small room. There’s opened boxes piled up in one corner of the room and the floor is littered with wall art decorations and a tall potted plant as well as other things to decorate the soon to be nursery.

         You and Jack had already painted the room a light heather grey color on three sides and on the fourth side you decided to put up three quarter length wood panels in dark hunter green and white and green leaf wallpaper. The wall is where the distressed light wood crib stood all done up with a star speckled bed sheet and a hand quilted baby blanket draped over the edge of the crib that was made by Addison. The blanket is absolutely stunning and so soft; Addison had managed to find different quilt squares with little graphics that meant something to both you and Jack. As you sat there staring at it from the floor you felt happy tears begin to pool in your eyes.

         You could see a blue square with silver sparkly stars on it, as well as a black square with green shamrocks, and then there was a square with the Statesman logo that Addison had specifically made for this project of hers. Just by staring at the blanket you could feel the love and time that she put in to the project and you were so proud of her artwork. Slowly standing from the floor you moved over to the crib and lightly traced your hand along the railing. In just a few short months your little one would here and you honestly couldn’t wait to meet them.

         You and Jack had decided that you weren’t going to find out the sex of the baby beforehand and that you would keep it a secret. And while Tequila and most of the family were annoyed about it they respected your decision. In fact if rumors were true there was a betting pool on the sex of the baby and the due date. Just last week Tequila kept hinting that he needed to go into labor two days after your due date. Smiling softly you turned from the crib and looked at the wall decorations that you had laid out to figure out where each would go.

         “Alright so I’ve got a step ladder and some tools. Have you figured out where you want the clocks?” Jack asked as he walked into the nursery carrying a step ladder and a tool box. He beamed over at you as you turned to him with a bright smile. You watched as his eyes glazed over a little and you chuckled softly. He’d been doing that a lot lately, just gazing at you with this lovey dovey look in his eyes. When you had teased him on it he had told you that you just glowed while you were pregnant with his baby. Nodding over to the corner that didn’t have the boxes in it you picked up one of the clocks and the letter decals that you had bought.

         After you had perused pinterest for ideas for the nursery you had found a very cute idea of hanging different clocks to show the different time zones of certain cities that meant something to you and Jack. The two of you had decided on three different clocks one was for Kentucky since that’s where you were stationed in Statesman, the second was for Colorado since that was where your first mission with Jack was, and the third was for Sydney since that was where the two of you had taken your honeymoon. You smiled softly as Jack set up the step ladder and began to climb it before looking down at you with a bright smile.

         “What?” you asked smiling back at him.

         “Just a different perspective of my pregnant wife.” He mused softly and you laughed brightly at him.

         “You’re such a cheeseball.” You teased him before handing him the decal for Kentucky. “So that’s going to go above the clock.” You instructed him softly and he made sure to place each word and clock on the wall to your liking.

         “So that’s where you’re going to put the rocking chair?” he asked as he moved the step ladder away from the corner.

         “Yup, figured the baby would be interested in seeing the clocks as we rocked together at bedtimes.” You mused softly with a smile. Jack wrapped his arms around your large belly from behind as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

         “That’s a good idea darlin’.” He complimented you and you smiled warmly as your hands came up to cover his own. The two of you hummed as you both felt the hard kick coming from within. “So baby’s awake huh?” he asked softly.

         “Mmhmm, it’s the active hour for them. Likes to kick and punch as hard as they can to keep me on my toes.” You said softly with a smile. You loved this period of being pregnant, you were over the morning sickness and while you were constantly tired at least now you were a little bit more used to it. But what you really loved was the nesting feeling that you constantly had now. Your body was getting ready to give birth and the feeling of getting everything ready was such a rush for you.

         “Ya know, I can help with calming them down.” Jack cooed to you and you smirked softly at his words.

         “You just want pregnant sex.” You teased him and he barked out a delighted laugh.

         “Well I ain’t gonna lie to you.” He sing songed and you shook your head with a happy smile. Jack had been smitten with you as soon as your belly began to grow. He was constantly touching you whether it actually be on the belly or anywhere on your body he was touching. And it was like his libido had been dialed up to the max as soon as your body started showing. The man just couldn’t get enough of you.

         “Let’s get the rest of these pictures up before we get to that. Okay?” you suggested softly patting his hands.

           It had only taken you and Jack another hour before the room was done up to your liking. You smiled as you looked around the room your eyes darting to each piece of artwork on the walls. You had asked certain family members and friends to each pick out a piece of artwork that meant something to them so that the little baby had a representation of each important person in their life. There was a silhouette painting of a cowboy on a bucking bronco from Tequila, there was a stunning photo of Boston’s North End from Murdock, there was pair of beautiful water color paintings of fields of flowers from both Rachel and Charlotte, there was an old photo of the Daniel’s farm from Memaw, and finally there were three framed photos of the Daniel’s family and Tequila at different holiday celebrations from Addison.

         You loved the eclectic collection of wall hangings from each family member and felt your heart do a little flutter in your chest as you saw the love from each member of the family. Taking in a deep breath you sighed.

         “It looks wonderful darlin’.” Jack said softly as he pressed a kiss to your temple as he stood next to you in the nursery. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and tugged in close to his side before he began peppering kisses all over your face.

         “Mmm, Jack. Not here.” You said softly and he lifted his head to gaze down at you. His eyes were clouded with lust as his hands skimmed up and down your sides his thumbs grazing against your swollen belly. He blinked slowly before he began to look around the room and now.

         “You’re right. Not here.” He said softly and you smiled as he quickly turned you and marched you out of the nursery and to your bedroom.

         Once there he quickly nudged you onto the bed and you fell backwards with a soft grunt. Scooting back on the bed you yelped when Jack grabbed your ankle and yanked you back over to him where he was standing at the edge of the bed. “Like this. I wanna make love to you right here.” He husked out and you felt your body flush with arousal. Nodding your head you began to tug your loose long tank top from your body. Jack’s hands came to help you as he slid them over the skin that was soon exposed.

         He hummed softly when he saw that you weren’t a bra and his large hands came to cup your growing breasts. You moaned loudly and your head flung backwards as you leaned back on your elbows. Jack grinned at how sensitive you were to his touch. Your chest was heaving now as you tried to suck in air as his caresses began to travel from your breasts to your ever growing belly. His hands glided softly across your tight skin and you moaned again in pleasure feeling the ticklish touch soothe your skin.

         Soon his fingers were hooking in the waistband of your yoga pants and he was sliding them from your body throwing them over his shoulder. His hand came up to your shoulder and pushed you to lie back on the bed. His eyes were lit with a passionate fire as he gazed down at you.

         “Damn darlin’ you look ethereal.” He husked out as his hands slid up from your knees over your thighs letting them fall open. “Absolutely stunning.” He whispered to you as his eyes settled on your covered core. You whimpered softly when you felt one of his knuckles graze lightly against your clit.

         “Jack please.” You begged him and his eyes snapped up to yours before he growled and quickly dragged your underwear from your body. “No foreplay. I’m so wet for you.” You whispered out to him and Jack grunted softly as he watched your thighs fall even farther open.

         “Fuck darlin’.” He hissed out his thumb coming up to part your lips and he groaned when he saw how slick you were for him. His hands left your body hurriedly and you heard the belt buckle on his jeans clatter and clink. Soon he was stepping closer to the edge of the bed and gripped your thighs pulling you closer to him. You tried to look down your body to see him but your belly was in the way and you huffed as you rose to your elbows. When you were finally able to see, he had his hard cock in his hand as it stroked it slowly before lining it up with your entrance. The head of his cock notched into your entrance and you moaned loudly as you fell back to the bed. Your body arched up as he slid further and further inside of you and your hands came up to grasp at your breasts. “That’s it darlin’.” Jack moaned out as he watched your hands hungrily.

         The pace was slow and languid as he gazed at you from the edge of the bed. He could see every inch of your delicious body as he thrust into you. He watched as your hands kneaded and gripped at your breasts before plucking at your nipples. Your mouth hung open as moan after moan escaped you. You were so beautiful to him and the fact that you were carrying his child made his whole body heat with arousal. “Darlin’, fuck. I’m not gonna last.” He said almost with embarrassment. He watched you thrash your head from side to side as your own pleasure coursed through you.

         “I’m so close Jack.” You whimpered out and Jack trailed his hand over your hips before his thumb connected with your clit and began rubbing soft circles around the bundle of nerves. You squealed softly at the sensation and Jack grinned knowing that he was going to be sending you into outer space in a moment. You breasts were bouncing as your chest heaved. “Oh! Jack! Jack!” you suddenly cried out and one of your hands came to latch onto his wrists as he felt your walls closing around him.

         “Fuck!” he shouted out as he buried himself deep inside of you and stayed there just feeling your walls fluttering around him. He groaned when suddenly his release burst from him. You moaned tiredly shaking your head slowly from side to side.

         When the two of you had come down from your highs Jack slowly pulled out and walked to the bathroom grabbing a warm wash cloth. He gently swiped the cloth all along your body cleaning you of the sweat you had built up and then cleaned softly between your thighs. When he discarded the washcloth he came back to lift you up in the bed and place you down on the pillows where you snuggled in under the blanket. Jack smiled softly at you as he slid in next to you and your body curled into his. You placed a soft tender kiss on his chest over where his heart beat rapidly before you hummed and settled against him.

         Jack couldn’t help the wide smile that formed on his lips as he snuggled in closer to you and slowly let his eyelids drift closed. Quickly falling asleep with you in his arms and a warm large hand resting on your belly.