#go straight to sleep (please) for like three hours and ah shit that’s a smaller number than i wanted

[autism-disco]

fuck man my life would be much much easier right now if there was not an inspector calling, yet we stay jesting (AAAAAAAAAAA)

[80s4life]

The Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing

Word Count: 4,438

Status: Not Requested

Fandom: Back To The Future 1985

Relationship: Biff Tannen x Female Reader

Summary: As time is altered for a total of 2 weeks (I extended it slightly), you and Marty struggle to get his parents under control, having problem after the next. But, when an unexpected solution occurs, you find yourself willingly okay with it, soon finding the exact reason as to why.

Warnings: language, fluff, Biff being a dick, slight angst, cute Biff

Masterlist Back To The Future Masterlist

Prompts: (from this list @youneedsomeprompts​)

Y/C/S= Your Choice of Sport/ Your Chosen Sport (you don’t have to honestly play one, just choose one you like or one that comes to mind)

{gif and prompts are not mine, gif credits go to @backtothefuturemovies and credits were given above for prompts!}

No one ever said time travel was fun. No one ever said the job was easy. And no one sure as hell told you the consequences that come with it. Well, at least not before you, and your best friend, Marty McFly, had gone dead-on through a barn, sacred a neighboring family of ‘alien invasion,’ run into younger McFly parents, and altered time just enough to fuck you over for a few days.

I mean, who would’ve guessed right? Your mom just so happens to be romantically interested in you, their child. Well, that was at least in Marty’s case. For you, you had just managed to run into the biggest dickhead of the century, Biff Tannen. Or so you thought?

Making your way out of bed, you automatically go to where Marty was sleeping in the garage, waking him along with Doc up. The go-to plan for the day was to go undercover as usual students in the 50′s, secretly following Marty’s parents around, finding out where they lie in this part of time, and try to find ways into manipulating them together once more in time for Marty and you to get back home. Easy enough, right?

Groaning, Marty goes to slap your hands away weakly, mumbling something along the lines of ‘Just a few more minutes.’ You giggle slapping his hands back in an attempt to wake him up cheerily. Mornings weren’t really your forte either, so any upbeat wake-up is better than a pissy, tired, horrible morning. 

Doc, on the other hand, was happy to return the affection, getting out of bed to give a quick hug and kiss to the forehead. Then he makes his way over to the bed, going to tickle Marty’s feet as you go to tickle his sides. Finally, in a fit of laughter, Marty gets up and goes straight for the bathroom. You were going to argue him, having to use the bathroom first, but decide to just leave it be, heading for the makeshift kitchen instead.

You smile fondly as Doc and Marty play around a while later, wrestling about, cracking jokes. It was only just a few hours ago that you and Marty had witnessed the untimely death of the currently very lively man in the house. Witnessing the blood loss, the machine gun in action, and the bullets that whizzed pass with only one malicious intent: to kill. But he’s here now; he’s safe and sound, having many years until that date will arrive.

With the freshly cooked smell of eggs, toast, and pancakes, the boys straighten up, Doc clearing his throat in an attempt to organize himself, and Marty leaving his shirt ruffled as he follows the smell of deliciousness. You giggle as both men of different ages act exactly the same, piling their plates high and digging in, giving thanks through mouthfuls.

///LATER///

After breakfast had finished, you and Marty made your way to the school, not wanting to be late, and, quite frankly, not wanting to miss a second in the disaster we’re in, wanting to fix it as soon as possible. Upon entering, the building erupts in laughter, tears, screaming, perfume, cologne, aftershave, and lots and lots of both testosterone and estrogen. Fucking high school, you smile.

Going to “your locker” right besides “Marty’s,” you both place the books and supplies that are unneeded inside it and take only the things you need for the first two classes, somehow having those together. As Marty catches glimpse of his father, George McFly, he winks at you, moving to catch up to him. Rolling your eyes playfully, you turn back towards your locker, just barely missing a group of young men some ways down the hallway, locking eyes with a particularly taller man, towering almost everyone in the halls.

You pay no mind, however, being blindsided by three girls your age. Instantly, you recognize the one right in front as Lorraine, Marty’s mother. Smiling nervously, your cheeks tint only a little, being unprepared to see her so quickly, not yet having a plan made up on how you could help tackle the situation with Marty.

“Hiya! I’ve never seen you before, are you new here? I’m Lorraine Baines, and you are?” she asks cheerfully, her books clasped tightly to her chest.

Taking an obnoxiously long time staring dumbfounded, you finally realize you haven’t spoken, quickly recovering with newfound purpose and confidence, “Ah, yes! I am new here! Sorry, I’m just trying to get used to this place a tiny bit. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Well that’s quite alright, you can come with us!” she says once more in a cheery tone, taking you by the arm and lacing her arm around yours, locked elbows. You smiled, knowing exactly where Marty’s cheerful and people-person nature had come from. Walking down the halls, she had asked for my schedule, checking classes to see what we had together, “English, History, and Agriculture- Hey! You should try out for cheer leading!” 

Shaking your head lightly, “Nah, I’m more of a Y/C/S myself to be frank.”

“But...We don’t have that sport here? There are no girls sports at all actually...” Lorraine says confused. You go to cover it up, choosing to say it was a sport you play for fun at home, in the backyard. However, a beefy arm separates you momentarily from her, as the owner of the harm moves to pin her to the lockers.

You were going to walk away, figuring it was some sort of make-out session in the works, but upon looking at her before going, you notice that the man was absurdly unwanted. 

“Get your meathooks off me Biff!” she screams at the man, his huge form towering her much smaller one. Not taking the message, the pair continue to squabble, neither of them being successful in winning. The warning bell sounds over the halls and classrooms, alarming kids to get their asses moving, but it seems whoever this dick is, he feels he is greater than the school, and god forbid, knowledge.

“Hey, you do realize your not making a damn bit a difference, right? She’s not interested! And, quite frankly, it seems as if no one does! Now, if you don’t mind, could you please be kind enough to unhand her as some of us treasure a piece of mind and how to take a hint?” you finish, quite ticked off as the last bell warns, cursing under your breath as you already know your in for detention on the first day.

It finally seems that he’d caught a grip, thankfully, letting go of Lorraine’s arm and she quickly scurries out of his proximity, taking your hand to lead you to the class you both needed to be in. As you go to walk in, you are stopped by the teacher, scolding both you and Lorraine. Looking at her regrettably, she smiles defeated. So you decide to do what’s right, take the fall.

“I’m sorry sir, I didn’t know where to go as I was trying to find where all of my classes were before I ended up lost every time classes switch. I caught up to Lorraine here at some point, and as she was hurrying to this class, she was kind enough to show me where I needed to be,” you finish, sighing guiltily.

“Well, as you’ve taken acknowledgment to your mistake, then you’d be just as happy with detention. After school, on Friday, as the first week is extremely busy. As for you, Miss Baines, thank you for your help. You are off the hook for now,” the older gentleman finishes, nodding to each of you personally before turning around and beginning just one of the classes you’d have today. This is going to be fun!

///LATER///

Finally, after grueling hours of just a few of your classes, lunchtime had came round, giving you a slight break. Catching sight of Lorraine, you smile and wave, going in the direction of Marty, or Calvin Klein, as you’d heard Lorraine go on and on about. You’d known it was him the second she’d said it, the brand not yet known to man yet; or at least in this timeline, it wasn’t.

As time had went on, it was only natural for the peace to be broken, as a newly familiar face was starting to appear more and more, Biff Tannen, as you’d known his name by now. But, instead of heading towards Lorraine, he makes his way over to the table you were residing with George and Marty, sitting himself right beside you. 

At first, you were trying to ignore him, knowing his presence was there, but keeping your eyes trained on either Marty or George, eyes dancing between the two. Biff, being the everlasting child he was, tried to catch you attention, trying stupid ass things after the other: kicking your shins, pulling your ears of hair, flicking your head, and even trying to tug on the 50′s style dress you’d been forced to wear to play your part. 

Only when he goes to tug your hair once more is when you finally snap, turning a furious glare to the hulking figure beside you, shoving his shoulder in a feeble attempt to create distance. He giggles at this, his body not moving an inch at all. “You can’t be serious right now! You don’t know when to quit it, do you?!” you scream, fed up with his shit.

“Well, if you’d give me the human decency of turning your head when I’m trying to talk to you, then I wouldn’t have to pester you, now would I?” he asks in a teasing tone, no doubt taunting you, but all you do is stare him down, getting lost in a staring contest, daring him to say something again. “Alls I wanted to say was that we have detention together. Just thought I’d let you know since you got me in all that trouble this morning.”  

“Why you-!” And with that, he gets up with a shit-eating grin plastered to his face, prancing out of view and back to the table he and his gang usually sit. Watching the whole interaction, George smirks at Marty, the pair giving an unspoken mutual agreement to whatever they had both caught on to, bursting into fits of laughter moments later. 

“You have a longer tolerance than I do, I-I-I’ll tell you that much,” George says, his usual slight stutter back in place, Marty laughing once more. As George joins in again, you couldn’t fight it either, giving into the childish antics.

///LATER///

To say your week had gotten any better than the first day was a lie. It hadn’t gotten any better, and your meetings with Biff at lunch had only gotten all the more common and all the more infuriating. He’d made it his duty to agitate you in any ways possible, even resulting in whispering something nagging in your ear when you weren’t paying attention, usually doing something in your locker.

Either way, he was on the countdown to Friday, it being constantly on his mind, mentally counting down the days, hours, minutes, and even seconds until the two of you were locked in a room alone.

Unfortunately, that day had seemed to come way faster than you’d like, Friday rolling around quite quickly. School had finished, and you were making your way to the front office, awaiting a tiring 2 hours with only yourself and Biff as company for the time being. You hadn’t known where the room was, and instead of spending time looking for it, you gave up and looked for the office instead, the nice front desk lady leading you where you needed to go.

Upon entering the room, there was Biff in his prime, casually spread across his chair, legs crossed atop his desk nearest the windows. Sighing, you ignore him, deciding to sit on the opposite side of him, the front desk lady giving you a sympathetic smile before she closes the door behind her. You look at the wall, head turned away from him like the plague.

You knew it’d only last so long until he’d speak, the time coming way faster than you pleased. Given it was Friday, you couldn’t even do homework or even study in order to block him out as he started to blabber, running his mouth over stupid shit once more. Inhaling through your nose, and exhaling through your mouth slowly, you straighten in your seat, hands clutching the desk so tight, your fists turned white. 

“Biff, Sweetheart, Baby, Doll Face, Hun. Please. PLEASE. Shut up for five god damn seconds. I know you truly have nothing to say, so why do you insist on speaking so much?” you finally say, hands prying off the desk to turn in his direction exasperated. 

“Well, if you’d just talk to me, Shortcake, I wouldn’t have much to say at random,” he answers, copying your actions and posture. With this change in childish demeanor, you give in, laughing at him in an unexpected rush, running your hands through your hair tiredly. 

Although you hadn’t seen it, he’d smiled in satisfaction upon seeing you laugh, the glitter in your eyes much more captivating than it ever was when he looked at Lorraine. He hadn’t barely pestered her since you’d barreled into his life. It was weird, but he welcomed it with open arms. And for the first time, he learned what it was like to have an actual, clammy-handed, closed throat, warm, cheek-tinted, teenage crush. A crush that left his heartbeat loud and fast, breathing ragged and uneven, and his behavior out of character and out of his control. Lorraine was way under whatever level he’d placed you on, holding you up on a pedestal like you were the sun or sky.

Of course, you hadn’t taken notice to his antics, just thinking he was annoying. Just Biff being his notorious self. But, as you finally calm your breathing down, the giggles fading, you decide to give him a chance, knowing that sitting in silence is just going bore you. Smiling warmly, you say, “So what do you want to talk about then?” 

///LATER///

Grabbing your bag, you get out of your seat, giggling at a story Biff had told you. He follows your lead as well, getting his own as he lets out a bark of laughter at a certain part. You guys looked like idiots as you shoved each other down the halls, making your way out of the school as your detention had came to a close. Sighing as the warm sun radiated on your skin with the light, spring breeze, you stretch out any kinks the classroom chairs and desks had left. Biff watched you intently, your small body easily swallowed by his shadow beside you.

The sun was setting and it was getting late, although you weren’t concerned. The boys knew you wouldn’t be home ‘til late due to the detention you had initially despised. Now, you and Biff were side by side, walking peacefully to his car in the school’s parking lot. For once, he was quiet, great company to have. It was something else for sure, but you enjoyed it. As you came up towards Doc’s place, you’d realized that Biff had drove you home like a gentleman, too lost in the conversation to notice earlier on. 

Sheepishly, you itch the back of your neck, realizing your mistake and feeling guilty for making him walk all this way to now have to walk all the way home. “Ah- Sorry...I didn’t realize I’d dragged you all the way out here. Now you have to drive all the way back.”

“It’s no problem, really. I liked it. It’s nice to talk to someone other than the guys every now and then. And to have A female speak to me instead of screaming,” he answers, now being the one who is a bit shy.

“You do know that you bring that on yourself right?” you say teasingly, now leaning your head on your hands, propped up on the passenger side door. “Not every girl would want to kick you in the groin if you showed a little more respect, “ you finish off with a smile.

“Yeah...Yeah I know. I’ll try harder, I swear.”

“That’s all I ask,” you say with a wink, drumming your hands on the door as you take a step back, waving as you start walking down Doc’s driveway.

“Hey!” Biff calls from the car, stopping you in your tracks to turn around, facing him with a smile. “Uhm- Well- The Enchantment Under the Sea Dance is coming up next week...Would you mind being my date?” he asks, stuttering as he feels his cheeks heat up, nervous as hell.

“I’d love to!” you answer, turning back around to walk into the house. Biff does a little fist bump as he puts the car back in gear, excited for what is to come.

///

Marty was a little less than amused with this newfound knowledge once entering the door and going over the events of the day. It was only when Doc had suggested that the date with Biff would keep him away from Lorraine, giving George the freeway to attract her long enough for their True Love’s Kiss. Then, and only then, did Marty give the okay, shaking his head, but liking the fact that it’ll give George some time, being the nerd that you know and love.

///Enchantment Under the Sea Dance///

Checking yourself over in the mirror for the final time, you let out a nervous yet satisfied sigh, feeling like an absolute princess. You never minded dresses too much, although you couldn’t deny the fact that normal pair of shorts, jeans, or even leggings were your first choice. All that mattered was that you liked the dress you were wearing, it fit you; it was your favorite color, length, and strap(less) type to hold everything in.

Walking out, you grab the pair of heels to match, knowing that you couldn’t get away with sneakers in this generation, painfully grimacing at the reminder. Finally standing, you recount when you had gotten the dress just a few days ago, having gone with Lorraine and the her two friends, Babs and Betty. They were very endearing and supportive the whole time, you not having to worry about being “to picky” as they were just the same. You ended up loving the dress given that you’d taken the time without pressure.

As you walked into the main room of the garage, you heard a low whistle of Marty, Doc slapping him on the back of the head for it. Giggling, you curtsy and spin in the dress. Doc, the gentleman he always was, compliments you, “You look amazing, my dear. Let’s hope this boy deserves it, hmm?” 

As an answer, you hug him tightly, knowing that, by the end of the night, he will be nothing but a dead man at home, in a lonely, dark parking lot. Your eyes tear up just at the mere thought of it, clutching him tighter. Marty seems to be on the same wavelength, going to interrupt the moment with great urgency, trying to pass him a piece of paper.

“Marty, if this has anything that involves my future, do not. And I repeat, DO NOT try to hand it to me. Whatever happens, happens young man. That’s how the world works,” he says in a warning tone. You wanted to disagree, but you knew the truth that was laced beneath it, as if it was a punishment. You whimper instead, pulling him in tighter; Marty looking down in defeat, soon switching to anger. In the midst of it, he storms out of the garage, getting in the car to go pick up who you’d hope was Lorraine for the dance.

“Just let him go...” you start, sadness evident, “He’s just not very happy with the outcome of what the future has in store for you. Quite frankly, neither am I.”

“I’m sure whatever the outcome is, that I wanted to go with it, dear. I assure you, I’m fine,” Doc answers in a consoling tone, wiping the tears that had slipped from your eyes. You knew it was just a mask, no one wants death, but you knew he needed to go no matter how much you hated it. So you nod, not having to say much more as a honk sounds from outside.

“That’s Biff...” 

“Have a great time! Make sure the McFlys kiss!” Doc screams, following out of the garage, scolding Biff from behind you.

“Yes sir!” you scream back, saluting him as you take a seat in the passenger.

///

“You look beautiful Y/N,” Biff says after a while, finally working up the courage to speak.

“Thank you Biff. And you look handsome yourself,” you giggle, the car pulling into the lot. 

He shuts the engine, grabbing his keys from the ignition and closing the door, making his way around to you as you let yourself out to straighten yourself out. He takes your hand as he leads you to the entrance of the dance, you sighing in relief as you catch a glimpse of Marty pulling up in a car with Lorraine. Finally, you relax, grasping on Biff a little lighter and with more meaning now as you have the night to yourselves. He smiles down at you as you wrap your arm within his, something Lorraine does with you quite often.

With the party in full blast, you let loose with the music, dancing and joking around with Biff. At some point, however, he says he needs a drink and will be right back. Although, he doesn’t seem to actually come back. You’d thought you’d seen him spiking the punch just as few moments ago.

Just as you were going to in the direction of the hallways to the rest of the school, you notice Match, one of Biff’s friends, storming out of the gym through an exit. Taking your bets, you follow behind him, soon being greeted by a huge commotion of screams, all of them from familiar people. Biff was in a car with Lorraine, her dress pulled and taken off in parts. He was no doubt about to do something stupid, the fact pissing you off, saddening you in some ways as well.

The others that were screaming were also George and Marty, the pair trying to get Biff to stop before he regrets it. He doesn’t listen, unfortunately, until your voice booms over the rest, “Biff!” 

His head snaps instantly in your direction, the situation dawning on him the instant he looks at your face. You hadn’t meant to portray your emotions so clearly, but your face had shown such distraught and hurt. He lied. He had gotten over Lorraine, yet the moment she was alone, he runs right back to her.

With his momentary change of focus, George finally steps in, “You get your filthy hands off of her!” finishing with a blow to the jaw that knocks Biff off balance. 

Marty looks to you sadly, but tries to smile in cheers as George and Lorraine leave together, motioning that he was going to follow them just in case. You nod, looking down now as your play with your fingers. You didn’t know what to do now as the only reason you were really here was for Biff. You weren’t needed for Lorraine and George, you knew Marty had it.

You decide to make your way home then, as there was nothing else you could do. Dances were just drags anyway, nothing worth while. “Your just going to leave? Just like that?” asks a deep voice, his body having gotten back off the pavement and stood by the car he was pinned against.

Without turning, you answer his question with another, “Why not? There’s nothing left here for me is there?”

“And why wouldn’t there be?” Biff asks once more, no doubt ticking you off at his usual teasing tone.

“Well, let’s see. You. You asked me to the dance as your plus one. I came here as your date. We have a good time, we dance, we talk, and then you come up with an ‘Oh I need a drink’ charade, not returning. Then, I come to find my date in the parking lot, about to get his licks in on a woman he was apparently over with! So tell me, what is left here for men here, Biff?” you finish, tears pooling your eyes over the time, although you don’t let the fall, keeping them there.

He looks guilty, you can see it, but you don’t care. Your not in the wrong this time. But, as your blood starts to cool down, you do notice the look in his eyes, the change in his demeanor, and the utter remorse that has overcome him. He has his head down, fists clenched at his sides, body stock still. He doesn’t know what to do, all he knows is that he’d fucked up.

“Or was this your fabulous way of telling me that you love me?” you finally ask, eyes moving to look up at him in a teasing manner.

He hadn’t expected you to speak, head snapping up to meet your gaze in confusion. Being as you’d looked at him with a glint in your eyes, he finally lets everything click together; you’d forgiven him. His face heats up in bashfulness however, as your words resonated within him as well, hand going to itch the back of his neck again.

You giggle, walking up to him now, hands going to his collar. Pulling him down, he gazes at you in amazement, his own hands falling to rest on your waist. Then, you crash your lips to his, pulling him ever closer. It takes him a moment to get the hang of it, soon pulling you closer to himself as well. Lifting you slightly, he sets you on the hood of his car, the height difference a definite stretch for him. But he wouldn’t have it any other way, you were perfect. Just the same as he was perfect for you.

[enviedear]

secrets that you keep → peter parker

DESCRIPTION ⌙ in a consolation trip back to europe, the kids of midtown high are eager to have a normal vacation, finally. but you on the other hand are on a mission. something weird is going on with peter parker, and you’re going to figure it out.

PAIRING ⌙ peter parker x fem!reader

WORD COUNT ⌙ 2.4k

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“-smaller group than before, but we’ll still have fun guys. the tour company has made precautions for you kids. there will not be a repeat of last year.” mr. harrington babbles.

you sink lower into the bus seat. you did not want to be back in europe. truthfully you want to be anywhere but here. wherever, here, was. no one knew. cell service went out about five miles back and the bus driver didn’t speak english. 

“yeah guys, don’t worry. this trip is going to be ten times worse than the last. it’s already started bad since we don't know where we ARE!” flash yells, running a hand down his face.

mr. harrington tries to calm him and the rest of the bus down, to no avail.

you block out the commotion and stare out of the bus window. grass, farm, cattle, shack, more grass, more farm. and not one single cell tower in sight. this is it, you think, this is how it ends, stranded in a foreign country with the most annoying people you’ve ever known.

“guys, GUYS! my service is back,” betty yelps. “it says we’re in wiveliscombe, and that it’s going to be three hours until we reach london.”

her words are met with groans.

“at least we have cell service now.” jokes peter parker, who’s sat in the seat across the aisle from you. he’s cute and nice, but weird. last year’s trip he had about a thousand excuses as to why he’d leave the group and if it happened this year, you were gonna figure out why. no matter what it took.

“mhm, and since we have access to the endless possibilities of the internet again, we don’t have to talk..” you huff.

“i.. sorry. i didn’t-” you cut him off by placing your earbuds back into your ears and turning the volume up. 

something about peter irked your nerves in a way you couldn’t understand. maybe it was the way he knew fucking everything. maybe it was the way his body became incomprehensibly fit in such a short period of time. you really couldn’t understand that. even went as far as to do research on steroids, but found there was no way he could be using those. most probably it was the nonsense of his idiotic excuses. he might be able to fool everyone else, but not you. you knew there had to be something going on.

he and his stupid cute little brown curls, button nose, and six pack were under your firm watch.

by the time the bus reached the hotel the sun was beginning to set. jet lagged and in need of a long shower, you’re one of the first to fly into the hotel.

“It's me and you for the next week.” mj smiles, holding out a room key for you. truthfully, you really liked mj. she was cool and liked a lot of the same things as you. but she had one fatal flaw in your eyes, she used to date peter parker.

it was a short lived relationship, almost everyone saw it as a fling. peter and mj were just… too different. but they remain close friends.

it’s not like you were jealous... just, a tad bit jealous. besides, that ship had sailed and your goal wasn’t to end up like mj on the last trip to europe. no, you had other plans.

“cool. we can watch murder mysteries tonight and grab some snack from the convenience store down the street.” you grin.

the rooming situation for everyone else took entirely too long. it started with flash being upset that his room requirements weren’t being met. he wanted nothing to do with a roommate. this, caused his previous roommate, zander, to object to rooming with someone so, ‘coddled’.

took a full twenty minutes to resolve the issue. 

“mj, you still wanna visit the national gallery tomorrow?” asks the one and only peter parker.

“uh, yeah. y/n, wanna join?” she questions.

you were ready to object, finding it far more intriguing to stay in and sleep but then you remembered your little mission. if you wanted to figure out what peter parker’s deal was, you’d have to be around him. 

“sure. nothing better to do.” you shrug, peering straight into peter’s eyes. 

“i, uh- i thought we’d get an early start to the day. ned wants to go on the jack the ripper tour, so that gives us until one to look through the museum.” peter rambles.

“alright, me and y/n will meet you two down here around ten thirty.” mj clarifies.

“see you then. night mj,” he looks to you. “goodnight y/n.”

you narrow your eyes at him, “sleep tight parker. busy day tomorrow.”

with that you and mj enter your room, ready to sleep off the jet lag. and soon enough, sleep carries you into her open arms, preparing you for the day ahead.

the next morning consists of peter and ned rushing in and out of their room. the duo forgetting nearly everything they needed for the day. it was extremely annoying. but you’d take watching the two ninnies scramble about over this tour you’re forcing yourself to get through right now.

the national gallery was proving to be a bore. maybe it was you. or maybe it was the dull ass tour guide. either way, you’re finding it hard to focus on any of these artworks around you.

“this is the arnolfini portrait. it’s the work of jan van eyck and it is believed to depict an italian merchant named giovanni di nicolao arnolfini. this painting has remained in the national gallery since 1843.” the tour guide drones.

you peer up at the art, searching for anything to interest you about it. you try to focus of the dark green of the woman’s dress, then the small dog, but nothing about this art is appealing to you. instead, you find the whispered conversation going on behind you to be much more intriguing.

“ned how am i going to make it all the way to japan and back here before the ripper tour?” peter grumbles.

japan?

“i don’t know, but i really don’t want to go on a tour of the most infamous and creepy serial killers of all time without my best friend.” ned whispers.

“but mj will be there, and.. y/n.” peter assures.

“great. they both creep me out. that’s like, two extra loads of creepy added onto the already creepy tour.” ned huffs.

“dude, i have to go… mr. stark is waiting on me.” peter pleads.

you hear ned give an annoyed, “fine.”

you wait a few seconds before turning around to face peter’s friend.

“where did peter run off to?” you ask, as innocently as you can.

“uhhhh- the bathroom. the uh, hotel bathroom. yeah, must have been those tomatoes he ate with his breakfast today.” ned gulps.

“mhm. well i think i’ll meet up with him. he shouldn’t walk all the way back alone.” you smirk, shoving past ned and running the direction peter went.

it took a good minute to find him outside, the boy running into a bakery. but once your eyes find him, you rush straight in, right behind him. eyes narrowed and full of questions. 

the brown haired boy quickly enters a bathroom and you grin. 

no escaping now, parker.

you wait outside the bathroom eagerly. only for minutes to pass. no sound escapes the room and you furrow your brows.

you knock on the door, no answer. annoyed you open the door, only to be met with an empty bathroom. 

an empty bathroom with an opened window.

what the fuck?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“we’ve been upgraded!” mr. harrington gleams, looking down at our tired faces.

“last time we were upgraded we almost died.” betty sighs.

“ah- what did i say, we’re not going to repeat last year,” harrington retorts. “now...how do you guys feel about paris?”

well those words certainly livened up the breakfast table. train tickets are soon passed around, and you study yours, spoonful of yogurt still in your mouth.

“hey y/n, mj and i are gonna go to the louvre when we get there,” ned grins. “wanna come with?”

you chuckle, “another museum? nah, i’m good.”

mj quirks a brow at you, “this museum is home to the mona lisa. it’s not just any museum.”

“and the mona lisa is not just any painting… it’s an ugly one.” you huff.

ned guffaws at you.

“honestly, i might skip out too.” peter says.

you turn to face him, “great. you and i can explore paris while mj and ned explore another museum.”

he shifts in his seat, “i dunno i was thinking of-”

mj cuts him off, “i think that’s a great idea y/n. don’t you, peter? you remember what harrington said.. no repeat of last year.”

her eyes are cold as she awaits his answer and he fidgets more in his seat.

“i just think it might be best for me to stay here… ya know in case mr. stark needs anything.”

you roll your eyes, “dude, you’re just an intern. what could he possibly need that his other ten thousand interns can’t do.”

“technically he only has like six other… interns.” peter mumbles.

“but uh.. they can handle whatever mr. stark needs from you. i mean they’ve been av- uh, interns, for a while.” ned says, eyes pleading with his friend.

peter sighs before smiling at you, “alright, me and you versus paris.”

no peter parker, me and myself versus your dirty little secret.

somehow you got to sit next to peter in an empty train car for the ride to paris. and holy shit.. could he talk.

his eyes did have a way of lighting a fire inside you as he talked but, that, was not the point.

it was between an empty car with peter or full car sat between flash and harrington.

peter is always better than the latter.

“-anyways, how’d you convince your parents to let you go back to europe?” he asks.

“i didn’t. they made me.” you say simply.

peter slumps into his seat a little, “uh, why?”

“because when they were younger they traveled the world. i dunno, i guess they expect me to want to as well.” 

“oh. well, are you enjoying it so far.” he asks.

i’d enjoy it more if i could figure out your damned secret, parker.

“sure.”

and then, finally, peter is quiet. 

but not for long, as the train comes to a screeching halt.

over the train speakers comes a booming voice, “veuillez rester calme. le train s'est arrêté en raison d'un dysfonctionnement du moteur.”

your body tenses and you look at peter, “please tell me you understand french?”

“a little.. i dont think we need to worry. they said it’s just an engine malfunction.” he nods, looking around the train car.

you try to breathe. 

everything is okay. there’s no evil robots coming to destroy a train car with two innocent teenagers. that’s so pre civil war. just breathe. 

suddenly a loud bang is heard from the car behind you. not just any bang… a gunshot.

“holy shit.” you whisper, stiff as a board.

peter on the other hand is rummaging through his bag.

“parker! what the fuck are you doing?” you hiss.

“i.. just trust me okay? when i tell you to run… run.”

you look at him with a scowl, “i’m not going to be the sacrificial pig for slaughter, asswipe.”

he rolls his eyes, “i’m going to run with you. we’re going to find an empty car and then… wait for spiderman.” 

you blink. the kid’s gone insane.

“peter. listen, i know coping with your own inevitable death can be hard but, spiderman.. really?” you groan.

another loud bang comes from the car behind you. 

peter looks at you, taking your hand in his. 

the door to your car bursts open.

“run!” peter yelps, rushing into the next car, the gunmen not far enough behind.

“holy shit i’m gonna die.” you scream.

peter throws something at the gunmen when the two of you enter the next car, separating the two of you from the monsters.

but the kid didn’t throw just anything at them. motherfucker threw a damn door. a metal train door.

by the time you process the information, peter is pulling you into a cramped bathroom.

“i don’t have much time but basically, hi, i’m spiderman. those guys back there are people tony stark pissed off really bad and i need you to hide in here until i fix this issue.”

with that he pulls his jacket off revealing the spiderman suit you’re so used to seeing on the news.

“that’s your secret? this entire time i’ve been hanging around you trying to figure it out, and it turns out you’re spiderman. i would have thought anything before fucking spiderman.” you dwell, eyes wide.

he slips his mask on, “wait, you only hung out with me because you thought i had a secret? i mean.. i did but-”

another loud bang interrupts him, “nevermind. we’ll talk about this later. stay here and don’t tell anyone what i just told you.”

you nod, and watch him exit the bathroom.

so much for “not a repeat of last time.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“at least it wasn’t witches this time.” mr. dell sighs.

your entire fourth period groans. 

“what! our world is infested with witches now. i don’t even know why i’m teaching science. i’m gonna turn around one day and suddenly i’ll be teaching witchcraft.”

your eyes return back to your desk, staring a hole into the old wood. your trance is broken by a crumpled piece of paper. you roll your eyes and turn your attention to peter, who after europe has been watching you like a hawk.

you open the paper to see, ‘listen, mr. stark said i need to get written evidence that you won’t spill the beans. please sign below.’

you grimace but sign at the bottom of the paper and hand it back to your new ninny friend.

that’s right. friend. despite being one of the most annoying people on the planet, with the weirdest secret ever.. peter was nice. he was really nice. he liked almost everything you did and listened intently to whatever you had to say.

“earth to y/n.” his voice calls from beside you.

“oh? is class over?” you ask.

he nods and holds his arm out to you. you take it and give him a half smile.

you may find peter parker to be the weirdest dude ever, but you can’t deny that the secret superhero is starting to flood your mind. you never thought you’d be the one to say it, but peter parker is the coolest weirdo you’ve ever met.

and besides, your mission was a success. you figured out his secret and obtained a friend along with it.

well, friend, until you could complete your newest mission.

telling him you like him. like, a lot.

[starstruckmyths]

Steve and Bucky being stress bakers. Some bad shit happens in the world and they punch at too much dough ending up with a bakery worth bread.

Stressssssss bakkerrssssssssss

I’ve probably said it already, but I’ll say it again: Steve admitted to being a shitty cook in Endgame, but every part in me knows that he’d make a brilliant baker. Steve is a super-soldier, so he would be really precise. 

My mom once told me, "Cooking is about feeling. Baking is about getting everything exactly right". 

Cooking is about trying out, it’s about what you like, adding more or less spices, sweet or sour or salty. Steve probably doesn't really have the cooking-gut-feeling, so he wouldn't be good at it. On the other hand, Steve is amazing at being precise. He would follow the recipes to the letter. Bucky would as well. They’re both soldiers, both have wielded weapons, and both have been in situations where they cannot lose any focus or everyone dies. So they’re really good at estimating how much sugar a “spoonful” is ;)

And then now, I will write you a little piece. 

|X|

The Avengers weren’t home, and Steve was sitting around in the comfy armchair, staring at his drawing pad but nothing came out of his pencil. It just... refused to let him draw anything. 

Bucky was still asleep, bundled up in the bedroom after one of the worst missions Steve had ever been on. It had not been particularly gruesome or nasty, but the bad guy had gotten away, he had fallen into a muddy ditch, Tony had crashed into a tree, Sam nearly got caught in some power lines, Clint had gotten his foot stuck in a hole in the ground, and Bucky had been hit by a car. 

All in all, a pretty laugh-worthy mission. 

And now here he was, his head still not entirely right and Bucky sleeping off the pain of his cracked ribs. He was frustrated. And hungry. He did not really feel up to anything, or rather he did, but he was not sure what that was. He wanted to eat something, a snack of some sort. Perhaps a cookie. Something sweet. Were their any cookies left or had the rest of the team gotten them all?

Steve pushed himself up out of the armchair and left his drawing pad on the coffee table, strolling over towards the kitchen where he pulled open some cabinets and looked for the cookie tin. Ah, there it was. As soon as he opened it, he scrunched his nose. Three tiny biscuits and a bunch of crumbs. Sighing loudly, he ate the last three cookies and thumbed the crumbs from the tin. Now it was really empty, and boy did that suck. 

“That’s not nearly enough,” he mumbled to himself, and he turned around to the counter. 

He looked in a few more cabinets, trying to lower his standards to what he was willing to eat, until he found a book. A cookbook. Steve made a curious noise, and pulled the thing out. Cooking was not really his thing, but he had often helped his mom bake, so perhaps he could make something out of that. It really was two birds with one stone: with the book, he could distract himself and get himself some more snacks. Win-win. 

It couldn’t go wrong, he just had to do what the book said and he would be fine. The book seemed to be more focused on baking than cooking anyway, so he was golden. There was a whole list of things to make, a bunch of cakes and other sweet snacks, but mostly cookies. Cookies with apple, chocolate, jam, nuts, honey, cinnamon, and more. 

This wasn’t a cookbook, this was a cookie-book.  

He had most of the ingredients, so that was a plus. Now, he only had to pick one kind of cookie from the list, and he was good! Only, they all looked so good. The one with apples, and with honey, and nuts... he picked the one with chocolate. He was feeling something for chocolate at the moment. 

And so he grabbed himself the flour, eggs, milk, oil, chocolate, and baking powder. He put the book against the backsplash of the kitchen, so he could read along as he went. He put the ingredients together and mixed it all with a spoon to get rid of at least some of his pent-up energy. 

“Let the dough rest for half an hour,” Steve read from the book. He scrunched up his nose again, deeper this time, and read the sentence another time. Half an hour. Half an hour? What was he supposed to do in the meantime?! Wait around? 

Stuffing the dough into the oven, he huffed in annoyance, lying his head in his neck as he tried to think of something he could do while waiting a whole half hour. 

But wait!

Instead of waiting around, he could bake the other cookies! Cookies with apple, with cinnamon, with peanut butter, jam, and all the others! That way, he could keep baking even when he had to wait for the dough! They had ovens and space to spare, so no one would mind, really. Steve pulled his stuff together and went to work straight away. 

Half an hour passed. 

Dough went in and out of the oven. 

The pile of flour and eggs became smaller and smaller, but Steve barely noticed as his stack of cookies only grew. 

He baked, and he baked, and he baked, without even looking at the clock. 

The whole kitchen smelled of fresh cookies, molten chocolate, and more. It had drawn Bucky to the kitchen, bandages wrapped around his chest, and he joined in. With the combined power of two super soldiers kneading and stirring the dough, cutting apples and chocolate, piling cookie after cookie after cookie onto the oven racks, they worked down the list cookie by cookie.

The entire counter was filled with all kinds of delicious things, crumbs and nuts and chocolate and honey and peanut butter and more. Another half an hour went passed, and then an hour, and then double that! There was flour on their faces, stains on their aprons, the cookbook was sticky, peanut butter in their hair, but neither Steve or Bucky paid it any mind as they baked as if their life depended on it. 

It turned dark outside, the sun dipping behind the horizon, but neither of them noticed, too caught up in their baking spell to stop. 

Then, late in the evening, the Avengers returned home, tired and worn out from their duty, some of them (Clint and Tony) were a little grumpy. There was light still coming from the kitchen, and as soon as the doors of the elevator opened the team was hit in the face by the taunting smell of cookies, cinnamon and honey. 

“Great,” Clint grumbled, “Now I’m hungry.”

“You think they left some for us?” Sam asked, standing on his near tiptoes as he took another deep breath, closing his eyes as he did so. 

Natasha was the first to step forward and out of the elevator. “Let’s hope they did.”

The very moment they stepped foot into the kitchen they were met with a sight that was both many’s personal wonderland, but also an almost terrifying one. 

Somehow, the entire kitchen was filled with stacks, heaps and piles of cookies. The entire counter save for a few tiny gaps was filled with cookies. Big cookies, small cookies, cookies with apple and honey and peanut butter, pale cookies, dark cookies. There were cookies on the cupboards, on top of the fridge, there were even cookies laid out on newspapers on the floor. And in the middle, Bucky and Steve were moving around, seemingly still baking. 

They thought they had to be dreaming. 

“Wha- wha-” Tony stumbled, “What have you done?”

Steve lifted his head from the book, his eyes slightly wider than could be normal, and he stared with the gaze of a man who had seen terrible things. In his arm, he clutched a bowl, holding it tightly as his other hand moved around a large spoon. “We baked some cookies.”

Bucky turned around, a fresh batch in his hands, holding it out towards the others. “Want one?”

|X|

Please forgive me, Nonnie. 

[geek-gem]

Since I’ve had some time for people to see my last few reblogs. Last night since playing Injustice 2...I had this idea. But I went to bed early by mistake. But it was a good sleep anyway...

The idea was what if the Powerpuff Girls were in Injustice 2 as guest characters? Similar in vain of how the TMNT were...but it’s my reimagining of the PPG as I’ve rambled about them before.

Honestly, I feel like I shouldn’t touch capeshit stuff maybe. And that I have wondered of including Archie in Injustice 2. But I feel it wouldn’t mess well. Yet...the Powerpuff Girls...but my versions of them...as guest characters in the Injustice universe? This gives me an excuse to write some dialogue. 

I’ve thought about this and funny stuff like, “Buttercup is a Zack Snyder fan!” and whatever else...time to write this shit. Some of it...seems heartbreaking, mainly I feel with Buttercup or just...I thought more for her. And the heartbreaking idea of Buttercup not only liking characters like Spawn and Batman. But actually secretly admiring the character of Superman. Since the DC universe is likely a fictional piece of media in her world. And the world of Injustice is pretty much a fucked up place.

I will mention DC did some Powerpuff Girls comics for the original show. And even some Cartoon Network crossovers...so...this is almost fitting ha!

So this took a bit, like maybe an hour or nearly two. I forgot. I feel like some of these could be better. I didn’t do much of Bubbles. But I feel like with your pieces of dialogue and especially the final one. It’s like a perfect final burn to me personally.

Buttercup: You were one of my heroes growing up.

Superman: Now I bring justice.

Buttercup: Was killing Billy Baston justice?

-

Buttercup: I’m fine that you killed Joker. But you went too far after that.

Superman: The world’s changed since Metropolis.

Buttercup: That doesn’t give you an excuse to become what you are.

-

Buttercup: I try to keep myself from becoming someone like you.

Superman: Why’s that?

Buttercup: Losing control.

-

Buttercup: Killing Aquaman isn’t gonna bring your dad back.

Black Manta: Want me to tell you that if I murder Utonium and Bellum?

Buttercup:...I’m gonna give you brain damage to make sure you don’t remember anything.

-

Blossom: You’re the reason why Superman became what he is?

Wonder Woman: You know nothing child.

Blossom: Who’s the one that warped his mind after what Joker did to him?

-

Blossom: I actually looked up to you as a kid.

Wonder Woman: What happened then?

Blossom: You betrayed what you stood for.

-

Bubbles: So me and my sisters are probably Titans material?

Starfire: After this audition, wanna get pizza and talk about it.

Bubbles: Oh yes please.

-

Bubbles: So Beastboy could’ve become any animal?

Starfire: Any, why are you asking?

Bubbles: Even a puppy?

-

Blossom: Are you sure you’re not a different version of Mojo Jojo?

Grodd: Who is this Mojo you speak of?

Blossom: Just another super smart evil ape. But he’s smaller than you.

-

Buttercup: So I hear you have some anger issues too.

Raphael: That’s cus I fight angry.

Buttercup: Ah, I can relate honestly.

-

Raphael: Anger management isn’t my strong suit.

Buttercup: I’m the same. Nearly killed a guy who took hostages at school.

Raphael:...well that’s something.

-

Blossom: Do you know of a guy named HIM?

Hellboy: Why you asking?

Blossom: He looks like he came out of Hell like you.

-

Blossom: Did Brainiac collect you too?

Leonardo: Yep. You too.

Blossom: Seems like he’s collecting everybody.

-

Hellboy: I’m not gonna cut you slack if we fight.

Buttercup: I just wanna prove myself.

Hellboy: I think you’ve proven yourself already.

-

Hellboy: You got the devil inside you kid.

Buttercup: I try to control. Thank God for the professor.

Hellboy: Utonium sounds like a swell dad honestly.

-

Blossom: So you’re the brains out of your brothers?

Donatello: Yep, pretty much.

Blossom: At least you’re not the leader. That would be exhausting.

-

Buttercup: So you like fighting games?

Michelangelo: Yeah, wanna play some after this?

Buttercup: Yes! Yes I would!

-

Bubbles: So you like pizza as well?

Michelangelo: Wanna get some after I beat you?

Bubbles: Oh don’t worry Mikey. I think you’ll be paying for it after this.

-

Blossom: Why do I feel like you’re a mix of Sedusa and HIM.

Enchantress: Me and HIM have met before.

Blossom: Oh God, that’s worse to even know.

-

Blossom: I’ve dealt with a woman like you before?

Poison Ivy: I’d like to meet this woman.

Blossom: I’d hate it if you and Sedusa met.

-

Bubbles: What is your problem?

Robin: Let’s this straight, I’m better than you and your sisters combined.

Bubbles: And I thought Morbucks was egotistical.

-

Bubbles: I really don’t want to hurt you.

Black Manta: You’re nothing but a weak, and altruistic young girl.

Bubbles: You really don’t know who you’re fighting, do you?

-

Scarecrow: You know your entire family hates you.

Buttercup: No. They don’t.

Scarecrow: Awww, I touched a nerve there, didn’t I?

-

Buttercup: You know nothing about my family.

Scarecrow: I know you’re scared of becoming like Superman.

Buttercup: You’re really getting on my nerves Scarecrow.

-

Scarecrow: Everyone has something to lose.

Bubbles: What makes you say that?

Scarecrow: What happens to the Powerpuff Girls if their mommy and daddy are gone?

-

Scarecrow: You hate it when your sisters fight, don’t you?

Bubbles: Yeah...it hurts.

Scarecrow: What if they both killed each other?

-

Blossom: Your fear schtick doesn’t work on me.

Scarecrow: How about taking Utonium away from you girls?

Blossom: Don’t you dare touch him.

-

Blossom: Wanna race me and my sisters?

Flash: You sure I won’t be too fast for you three?

Blossom: Oh trust me. You should see us when we play tag.

-

Blossom: Me and my sisters are here to help the Insurgency.

Batman: Then prove it to me.

Blossom: Have you’ve seen how we fight?

-

Sub Zero: Do not ruled by your passions.

Buttercup: So I don’t end up like Scorpion?

Sub Zero: Exactly.

-

Bubbles: Don’t you dare justify what you’ve done.

Aquaman: What I do, I do for Atlantis.

Bubbles: Don’t make me become friends with the Trench Queen.

-

Blossom: What keeps you going even after everything?

Supergirl: Hope. That’s what it is.

Blossom: Finally, a hero who hasn’t gone insane.

-

Bubbles: You’re no hero, not anymore.

Wonder Woman: You don’t know how complex the world is.

Bubbles: Ms. Keane and Ms. Bellum are real heroes than you’ll ever be anymore. 

[muse539]

Here We Lie in the Shadows

Chapter Three: BLT’s

Read on ao3!

....

Bellamy startled awake at the sound of a car horn being held for just slightly too long.

“Oh, fuck you too, buddy!” Clarke swore.

The bridge over the Mississippi River into St. Louis was busy, even so early in the morning.

“What time is it?” Bellamy asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The sky was dark.

“A little past two. I pulled over at a rest stop for a while to sleep.”

Bellamy’s eyebrows creased. “You could have woken me up, I would have driven.”

Clarke waved a hand dismissively, and began to merge off of the highway, the iconic arch to their right.

“I thought we were going to drive straight to LA?”

Clarke followed signs for the convention center, the smaller streets dark and quiet.

“I’m hoping Echo thinks that too. We’re better off driving only at night, and I have a friend who I’d like to talk to while we’re here.”

Eventually, Clarke pulled off of the street and into the parking garage next to a small hotel. Grabbing their meagre belongings and printing a ticket that promised parking would be entirely too expensive, they went inside.

The hotel was modest, but nice, and the man occupying the desk eyed them dubiously, no doubt surprised to see people coming in so late. Or early.

“We’d like a room, please.”

The man eyed them up and down. Bellamy could imagine they both looked worse for wear, in practically stolen clothes and only having slept for a few hours in a car. All after almost being blown up.

Bellamy was sure they looked the epitome of perfection and grace. Not. Internally, he snorted.

Regardless, the man turned to his computer and pulled up the available rooms. “One room or two?” he asked.

“Just one, thank you. One bed.” Clarke’s voice was polite, but her eyes suggested an intense impatience.

Bellamy’s eyes widened slightly before he remembered to school his expression. Clarke paid the man in cash, and within a few minutes, they had their keys and were making their way to the elevators.

Once they were inside and the doors rolled closed, Bellamy turned to Clarke. “Why did you-”

“Shhhh.”

Bellamy shut up and followed Clarke when the doors opened. It was only once they were inside their room - with the single bed - that Clarke turned to Bellamy.

“The wait staff at Arcadia thought you were waiting for your wife. If Echo did her homework, she knows that. It’s as easy of a cover to maintain as any. We’re certainly not related.”

This time, Bellamy snorted externally. Clarke’s lips lifted in a small smile. “Okay, fine. You take the bed then, you’ve barely slept.”

Clarke laughed then. “Bellamy, I think we’re mature enough to share the bed. You’re not scared of your wife, are you?”

That tore a laugh out of him. “No, I suppose not.” They smiled at each other. “Seriously though, go to sleep. I want to shower anyway.”

Shrugging, Clarke turned to the bed and opened her duffle bag. Bellamy slipped into the bathroom.

---

Clarke was asleep by the time Bellamy finished his shower. He’d forgotten to pack his razor, which was upsetting to him. He’d never had much luck pulling off facial hair, but he supposed it would make him look different. Maybe different enough to throw off their presumed tail.

Bellamy was musing over this as he made his way to the small desk in the room. Since Clarke was asleep, now was the perfect time to work on his Michelin reports.

Let’s give Arcadia that third star.

---

Clarke always rose with the sun, no matter how little sleep she’d gotten. Once, at Miller’s suggestion, she’d gotten drunk the night before, to see if she'd sleep later. In the end, she’d actually woken up earlier than normal.

It was a curse.

Clarke rolled over and saw that the other side of the bed was made, Bellamy sitting at the little table by the window. The curtains were open, and he was watching the sun rise.

Clarke was decidedly not admiring his profile.

“Did you sleep at all?” He was in his pajamas, but they didn’t look slept in.

“Hmm?” Bellamy turned to her, blinking slowly. “Ah, no. I wasn’t tired. I am hungry though. Breakfast?”

Clarke rose onto her forearms. Bellamy’s eyes briefly traced the way her hair flowed down her back. “Sure. We can order room service.”

Bellamy grunted like the idea offended him personally. Which it did. “Room service? Oh no, no. We’re in St. Louis! There are so many great options here, we’re not ordering room service.”

Clarke’s eyes rolled up to the ceiling. Great. I’m stuck with a foodie with no regard for his own safety. “Bellamy. Have you forgotten that there are people, at the very least, Echo, likely following us? And that those people blew up a restaurant the last time we were at one?”

He scoffed. “Of course I remember, Princess . We’ll keep it low profile. Obviously.”

If the NSA has taught her anything, it’s when to pick her battles. Bellamy’s posture told Clarke all she needed to know: he was not budging. She sighed. “Fine.”

“Great!”

---

They passed multiple restaurants while they walked before finding one that didn’t offend Bellamy’s apparently delicate sensibilities. Clarke made sure to let him know that she thought he was being ridiculous.

“Hey!” he laughed, her jibes were nothing compared to Octavia’s. “I don’t know when I’m ever going to get to be in St. Louis again, I want to enjoy it.”

They (meaning Bellamy) settled on a restaurant called BLT’s. Not the sandwich, no no, but rather “Breakfast, Lunch, and Tacos.”

“It’s such an interesting concept!” Bellamy was practically buzzing with excitement, curls jumping with each quick turn of his head; Clarke was barely holding back laughter. Bellamy ordered a chorizo and egg taco, as well as a sunrise taco, while Clarke ordered a veggie scramble.

“Come on, Clarke. Not even a taco? It’s in the name!”

“So is the word breakfast, Bellamy.” He scoffed.

When the food arrived, Bellamy pulled out some of his papers from the backpack he carried.

“What are you doing?” Clarke asked.

“Grading.” Bellamy pushed a paper towards her. It appeared to be a history report written by a student that didn’t understand punctuation.

“Yikes.”

“You have no idea.”

Of course, what Clarke didn’t know was that Bellamy had a small notebook open under the table, and while he appeared to be reading his student’s papers, he was actually writing a critique on the tacos.

The chorizo has a good amount of spice, but the taco itself is a little dry, despite the pepper jack cheese. What the taco could really use is a small amount of salsa…

When they finished eating, and Bellamy gave the offending paper he showed to Clarke a C-, they walked back to the hotel.

When their door closed, Clarke pulled out her phone. It was a burner that Harper gave her before they left Chicago. She dialed a number and held it up to her ear, holding out a finger before Bellamy could ask what she was doing.

Thankfully, he picked up. “Hello?”

“Murphy, are you in town?”

“Clarke? What the shit, Griffin, I’ve been trying to reach you for weeks now!”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m on the run, you know how it is.”

“I do know how it is, which is why you should have picked up your fucking phone!”

“Lay off Murphy. Are you in town or not?”

“You’re in St. Louis? Why?”

“Murphy.”

“Fuck you. No, I’m not in St. Louis. I’m in Oklahoma City on an assignment. At the sister branch.”

“Well, I need to talk to you.”

“And I need to talk to you. When can you get here?”

Clarke scoffed. “Get there? Murphy, I’m on the run, with a civilian no less. I don’t have time to be making detours!”

“You have time for this one. Get here.” He hung up.

“That absolute bastard.”

Bellamy blinked at her, wide eyed. “Who was that?”

“John Murphy, another NSA operative. He’s a friend.”

“Some friend.”

Clarke shrugged.

Looking like he was about to poke a bear, Bellamy asked, “Clarke, why do you do this?”

“Do what?”

“The NSA.”

Clarke regarded him for a moment. He had sat down in the chair he’d occupied that morning, Clarke had perched on the end of the bed. His eyes were kind, and he seemed sincere, even if Clarke suspected he was hiding something. Not that she had any proof, but she can’t imagine why else he would have so easily gone along with playing her husband. That alone was far from normal behavior. But, she had no reason to hide at this point. He already knew too much for an apparent civilian, knowing her tragic backstory wouldn’t make him any more dangerous.

“My father was murdered when I was 14, and they never found the killer.”

Bellamy grew quiet, dark eyes widening.

“When I was younger, I wanted to be an artist, but when Dad got killed, I just wanted to figure out who did it. The case is long cold now - it’s been over 10 years - but while I can’t help my Dad, I can help other people. Stop other tragedies from happening. The government is so corrupt. I figure, by inserting myself into that narrative, I can help make things a little better.”

“I’m so sorry, Clarke.” His gruff voice was gentle.

She smiled weakly. “It’s okay.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Clarke cleared her throat. “Well, we shouldn’t drive during daylight hours, and we also shouldn’t wander around the city. So, I don’t know about you, but I’m going back to sleep.”

In the end, they traded off taking naps until early evening. By then. Bellamy’s stomach was making some truly obscene noises.

“I’ll go to the corner store and get us some food.”

“Bellamy, we really shouldn’t be going out - even this morning was a mistake.”

He huffed. “Well, I’m not going to eat fast food. So unless you’d like me to eat you, Princess, I’m going to get something from the corner store.” Bellamy flushed scarlet when his brain caught up with his words. He hoped Clarke didn’t notice.

She noticed. But, feeling gracious, she elected to ignore it. “It’s still a bad idea. With Echo tailing us-”

“Echo’s been tailing you, not me. She maybe got a glimpse of me in the restaurant, but I looked different. She’s not going to notice me.”

Clarke looked as though she was in pain, but she sighed. “Okay. Be quick, alright? If you’re not back in half an hour, I’m going to assume you were compromised, and I will leave without you.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“See you in half an hour then.”

---

Echo watched as the man traveling with Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake, walked into the corner store. He had a two day old scruff, but that did little to disguise the large man loping through the streets of St. Louis.

Echo could confront him, and demand that he take her back to Clarke, but Echo suspected that this man may be strong willed. She didn’t believe he would go easily, but he didn’t need to. Echo was content, for now, to keep following them, keeping her distance.

---

Bellamy made it back to the hotel room with time to spare, weighed down with multiple bags of food. He didn’t like that he was being forced to live on convenience foods, but, he reminded himself, even this was a step up from what he and Octavia had to eat as children. Namely, that he had anything to eat at all.

Clarke had already packed their bags by the time he returned, the sun slowly setting over the city. “It’s time to go,” she said, thrusting his bag into his arms. They made their way towards the parking garage.

Before setting out, Clarke opened the trunk and pulled out a license plate. She then swapped it with the plate that was already on the car.

“I suppose that’s better than grand theft auto.”

Clarke snorted. “That’s for the next town. For now, the plates are fine.”

Bellamy wasn’t sure if she was kidding. Clarke’s eyes said that she wasn’t.

And they were off.

As they turned onto the highway, Bellamy spoke. “Why did you save me?”

The when and where went without saying.

Clarke was quiet for a moment. “Would you have rather I left you?”

“You might not be in this mess if you had.”

Clarke was silent, waiting for an answer. She had wondered herself. It was true that things might not have gotten so crazy had she left Bellamy, but she also likely wouldn’t have deciphered Octavia’s note as quickly without him. And it was… nice. To have the company.

Eventually, Bellamy sighed. “No, I don’t wish you had left me. I probably would have died if you did.” Echo would have thought Bellamy was Agent Blake regardless of if he left with Clarke that night. “But, still, why did you? You were upset when you realized I wasn’t Agent Blake, but you had me come with you anyway.”

Again, Clarke was quiet. Bellamy counted to twenty before she said, “I’m tired of the death.”

What she didn’t say was that Clarke has likely condemned Bellamy to death anyway. He’s right, Echo probably would have killed him if I left him behind, but now he’s involved. Now Echo will kill him, if we get caught.

They were mostly quiet for the rest of the drive, Bellamy dosing until he saw Clarke’s eyes begin to droop. He insisted on driving the rest of the way.

They rolled up to a motel on the outskirts of Oklahoma City at 4 am. Paying in cash, they again got a room with one bed.

Clarke glanced at Bellamy. “Get some sleep.”

“Why?” Bellamy asked.

“It’s best to be as rested as possible when dealing with John Murphy.”

[alolanrain]

Fangshipping nobody knows how’s ash

I’m gonna guess that you ment to say ‘who’ instead. I also turned this into a little fic things as well ^_^

—————————

Raihan bounces on the top of his feet. Eagerly bouncing around his home as well. It was all cleaned and spiffed you for once, cute fairy lights he finally bought for his living room and kitchen all stocked and cleaned for the incoming week and a half. Arceus he’s so excited!

Checking the time on his Rotom phone one more time Raihan grabbed his wallet and house keys before going to the mud room and slipping on his shoes. He just about pulled the door back and was greeted by Leon with his hand raised to knock on Raihans front door. Piers and Gordie were standing behind him.

“Raihan!” Leon beamed happily.

“Leon,” Raihan smiled a little less happy then before, “Piers, Gordie. What are you guys doing here?”

“Bar hopping.” Pier grunted out. Crossing his arms. “We came to see if you want’ta join us?”

Raihan took a sharp inhale of breath. Smile falling as he watched Leon wilt just a little at his reaction. “Sorry mates,” Raihan scratched at the back of his head while stepping out of the door way and shutting the door, “I’m actually headed to the airport to meet up with someone.”

“Really?” Gordie spoke up, giving Raihan an incredulous look.

“Really.” Raihan smiles a bit brighter this time. “Now if you’ll excuse me mates, I got someone to meet.” And just like that he was down the porch steps, across the large barren garden, and out the gates closing his property in and onto the gravel path that lead to Hammerlocke city. Pulling out his phone and the CorviCab app.

“We’re following,” Piers spoke up after a few minutes as he stared at Leon’s face, “aren’t we?”

Leon didn’t even say a word as he bounded down the step and onto the gravel road in seconds. Leaving Piers and Gordie to scramble after him, yelling at Leon to wait.

————

Raihan was near vibrating in his skin. Watching as People slowly walked past him into the ticket lines. He signed a few things here or there for passing fans and was mobbed once and a while for pictures. It was all fine since the plane he was waiting for is actually a tiny bit behind schedule. It gave him half an hour just to chill hack and people watch for once, even though he was nervous as all fuck. He didn’t even notice the three very familiar people watching him from a cafe table just across from him.

Piers had his hair tired up. Dressed more comfy and he was glad that he brought a warmer sweater, Airports are always cold for him. Gordie didn’t even try but switch out his shades for a darker pair and messed his hair up just a tad. It still worked for him and Leon was a bit jealous. Leon himself had his hair tied up to. Cap and glasses obscured his face.

“He’s just... standing there!” Leon whines and let his head rest against the table. Board out of his mind and waning curiosity getting to him.

“That’s what you do when you wait for someone, idiot.” Piers snarled around the straw he was drinking from.

“Hey.” The Champion weakly objected but said nothing more of.

“Oh,” Gordie finally spoke up, making the other two immediately look over to Raihan, “he spotted someone.”

True to Gordie words, Raihan looked like a damn near wiggling Yamper. Eyes tracking something until a Pikachu came bounding out of a crowd of passing people and jumping straight into his arms.

“Pikachu!” Raihan cried out happily and easily rubbing his cheeks back into the frantic mouse Pokémon, “I know, I know! I miss you too.”

“Raihan! There you are!” A voice spoke up.

Raihan couldn’t help but nearly melt into the ground when his bright blue eyes met warm hazels.

Leon watched in renewed curiosity as a very short, to Galar standards, male came jogging up to the Gym Leader. Black fluffy hair that looked sinfully soft and the warmest of hazel eyes he’s ever seen.

“Ash!” Raihan greeted happily. Pikachu climbing up into his head so he could use both his arms to fully wrap Ash into a hug, making Ash drop his luggage bag and lifting the tiny Kantonian off the ground.

“Raihan!” Ash squealed his name again, wiggling his feet in the air. “Set me down please.”

The dragon tamer did just that. Hands lingering on Ash’s shoulders before fully dropping back down to his side. “So...” he drawled nervously.

“So?” Ash asked. Bending down to grab his luggage again and offering an arm out to Pikachu who happily chattered and purred on top of Raihans head. Very clearly not moving and content where he is.

“You must be tired.” Raihan broke out of what her haze he was shortly in. Hands flying back up to nervously hover around Ash’s body. “You look absolutely exhausted! Look at those bags under your eyes. Have you been sleeping well?” Raihan gently pulled at the skin under one of ash’s eyes.

“I haven’t slept the past three days.” Aah happily learned into the hand before jerking awake and pulling back sheepishly. “Never could really sleep on planes.”

Leon continued to watch in wrapped fascination as Raihan fluttered around this ‘Ash’. The boys Pikachu’s tail gently tapped the back of Raihans head and soon enough Raihan grabbed Ash’s luggage out of the boys hand and started hearding him out of the airport. Babbling on and on about something Leon didn’t understand and could no longer hear.

“Sonia and Nessa are gonna flip when they see this.” Piers started tapping away at his own Rotom phone. Leon wondered when he pulled that out but didn’t object. “Nessa is understandable yelling in the chat but Sonia is being unusually quiet.”

Leon was happy he had his phone shut off and on do not disturbed. Something he recently learned how to do so that Oleana and Rose couldn’t bother him on his days off.

“Oh!” Piers raised a critical eyebrow as he read something that must have popped up on his screen. “Sonia just saw and she’s livid.”

Leon nodded, already standing up after handing the waitress their check with money and telling her to keep the change, he grabbed at Gordie again. Making the man squawk with surprise and struggle to set the drink down before it got pulled away with him as well.

Piers sighed and got up after them. “I really do hate all this walking.” He bemoaned loudly even though Leon highly probably couldn’t hear him with Gordie whining in his ear.

————

Nessa and Sonia met up with them at the small rolling hills just besides Raihans house. The perfect view in the front and back yard.

“If the Paparazzi find this spot, Raihan’s basically trapped in his own house.” Piers grumbled. Head leaning down onto the cool night grass. The other four didn’t say anything to the Gym Leader. More focus in coming up with a way to get Raihan to spill about who ever this ‘Ash’ person is.

“Oh look!” Piers spike up a bit louder when he noticed the sliding back door opening.

Everyone turned their head to see what Piers was and it got real quite afterwards.

“Everyone come on out!” The tiny raven haired trainer yelled happily. Throwing his Poké balls up into the air.

“Is that Ash?” Nessa spoke up. Leaning into Leon’s side that Sonia wasn’t taking up. The Champion hymn in confirmation. “He’s cute.”

“He is!” Sonia agreed readily. Eyes widening as the Pokémon materialized in Raihans large back yard. “Holy shit!” She hissed. Flattening her body more into the hill side.

“You must be Melmetal!” Raihan padded off the back porch and reached over to the giant glimmering Pokémon. “Ash kept spamming me pictures of you when you were just a Meltant.”

“Raihan!” Ash cries out in embarrassment as his Incineroar caught him in a near bone crushing hug.

“Lycanroc!” Lycanroc barked. Happily padding around Raihan and licking the palm of his hand. Settling down by his feet and watched as Ash pried himself from Incineroar’s hug.

“Hey buddy.” Raihan mumbled. “It’s good to see you too.”

Rowlet cooed above from a branch it settled down. Opening its wings the grass peel Pokémon gently floated down to Raihans waiting arms. The gym leader scooping the grass type form the air and hugging it close. The three watched Ash interact with Incineroar and Melmetal.

Pikachu opted to stay inside, curled up with Raihans Flygon on a pile of blankets by the gas fireplace, then to meet his Alolan team mates.

“Watch’cha thinking about?” Ash asked. Padding over with Incineroar close on his heels. He took Rowlet from Raihans arms and watched happily as Raihan greeted the fire Pokémon. Incineroar purred loudly as it rocked its face more and more into Raihans hands that were petting its cheeks.

“Just ho amazing my boyfriend is!” Raihan teased.

“Ah!” Ash whined wordlessly. Face blooming red in embarrassment. “Raihan!” He grumbled once more.

“Just spitting straight truth!” The large Gyn Leader crowed happily.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Ash groaned grabbing a everyone’s Poké balls, “return everyone!”

“Aw!” Raihan whined jokingly, “and we were just about to have some fun to.”

Ash rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile that filtered into his lips. “I would like some fun with my boyfriend to, you know.”

“Oh?” Raihan asked. Pupils already blowing up. “And what kind of ‘fun’ do you want to have?”

Ash didn’t answer. Only using his fingers to beckon Raihan to bend down. He curled his arms and kissed his boyfriends. Arching with a gasp as Raihan slid his hands from the back of Ash’s shoulder blades down to his ass to squeeze it.

Ash was picked up so that Raihan didn’t need to keep bending over to kiss him. Legs curling around Raihans lower stomach as he held on tight.

“I like this kind of fun,” Raihan growled happily against Ash’s lips, making the Champion shutter in expectation, “but I think we’ll have even better fun if we do this in the bedroom.”!

“Take me away then,” Ash giggles when Raihan dove back for a smaller and chaste kiss, “my dear Dragon.”

————

“Well damn.” Piers spoke up. Watching with raised eyebrows as Raihan carried Ash inside. Presumably to go have sex in bed.

“I was...” Nessa’s face scrunched up in thoughtfulness and disgust at the implications of Raihans words hit her, “not expecting that.”

Sonia and Leon didn’t say anything. Their own cheeks a little bit red as they pressed their shoulders more into the grass.

“Welp!” Gordie’s hands hit the grass lightly before pushing himself up. “I’m going home now that we figured this out. Night!”

[ddaengyoonmin]

Birthday Surprise

Pairing: Jin x Reader x Jungkook poly

Genre: Fluff, Mentions of smutty stuff

Warnings: Some swearing, um maybe a sex toy??

a/n: This is a birthday gift for @kingsuckjin .  Love you so much!  Its not angst i know i know haha but I couldn’t find it in me to write you something sad for your birthday.  I hope you like it <3 <3 <3 

You woke up to the smell of coffee and a soft rustling in the sheets next to you. 

In your sleepy haze you rolled over and flung your arm around the large body that was pressed up against you now.  

In a sudden moment of clarity your eyes snapped open and you shot up straight in bed, shaking the man. 

“Jin!” you yelled out. “Jin oh my god, you’re late! Wake up!” 

The shirtless man grumbled something unintelligible and slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. 

You looked at the clock ‘8:52’.

“Your plane left a half hour ago oh my god!” you jumped up and started to speed walk over to Jin’s dresser to pull out some clothes for him to quick change into. 

Jin seemed to have finally woken up enough to grasp the situation. 

“Y/n!” he quickly stuttered out “Wait wait.  No.  Get back in bed.  I’m not late.” 

You sighed “Jin, yes you are.  The boys are going to give you so much shit about this! Why wouldn’t Jungkook have woken you up when he left? He’s in for it” you grumbled, pulling a pink t-shirt from Jin’s drawer and tossing it over to him. 

“Jungkook is still here too y/n.” Jin chuckled, throwing the shirt back at you softly. 

You groaned. “Jin please, I’m trying to help you get ready, don’t be difficult.” 

Jin stood up, walking over to you slowly.  He was wearing nothing but his boxers that he had slept in.  He looked so good like that.  Messy hair, sleep still slightly lingering in his eyes. 

He reached where you stood and wrapped his arms around you, gently pulling you into his warm chest and kissing the top of your head. 

“We aren’t going today y/n.  It’s your birthday.  We told them we’d push it back a day.” 

You pushed back from him so you could look him in the eyes and see if he was lying.  Jin was a bad liar so you knew that you’d be able to tell right away. 

“W-wait.” you stammered out “You’re serious? I have you both today?” 

Jin chuckled.  “You have us both always y/n.  But, yes.  We aren’t going anywhere today, we’ll catch a flight tomorrow.  Today we will spend all with you.” he bent down and kissed you softly on the cheek. 

“I think Jungkook has started your coffee, he probably wants to wish you happy birthday too.  He’s gonna be a bit sad he wasn’t there for the surprise.  He planned on waking you and me up together.” 

You and Jin walked out to the kitchen, where Jungkook stood over a stove of food that he seemed to be very seriously struggling with. You heard him curse under his breath at a piece of bacon he was flipping over. 

“Ah fuck its all ruined.” he whined.  

“Kookie?” you called over to him, sitting down on one of the barstool chairs that sat around the island in the center of the kitchen. 

“Oh!” he yelled out, startled and spinning around to face you. “Noona!! You’re up. Shit.  I mean. Hi! Happy birthday!” He rushed over to you and gave you a giant hug from behind, nuzzling his head into your neck. 

“Thank you Kookie.” you purred. “What’s all this.” you pointed to what he was cooking. 

“The worst breakfast ever.” he sighed “I knew I should’ve let Jin make the meal but I wanted to do something special for you.  It’s all ruined though. I burned everything.  Even the toast.” 

You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair. 

“Kook, I’m not the biggest fan of any of those foods anyways.” 

He stood up and walked over to the plate of burnt bacon, dumping it into the trash. 

“Still, I planned on making a whole thing of it.” He pouted, “And I didn’t get to be there to surprise you either.” 

Jin laughed “Kook. Get the woman her coffee and quit complaining.  I don’t think she cares about the burnt bacon.” 

“I really don’t Kookie.  It was sweet though.  It’s the thought that counts right?” You assured him. 

His face lit up a little bit. “Right. Right. Sorry.” he smiled over at you, grabbing a mug and pouring you some coffee.” 

The three of you sat at the island table sipping your coffee in silence for a few beats before Jungkook spoke up again. 

“So today is anything you want to do!” He informed you, “Literally anything!” 

“Can I do you?” you teased. 

Jin laughed a single loud ‘Ha’ 

Jungkook blushed a bit.  It was so cute how even after months of dating that he was still so shy when it came to you flirting with him that way.  

“I-I mean yeah.  I planned on…” he trailed off

Jin jumped in.  “Don’t worry y/n.  Your Kookie wants to let you do whatever you want to him.” then Jin leaned over and nipped at your ear. “And I’ll do whatever you want me to do to you.” he whispered, then pulled away, giving you a wink. 

Now *that* sounds like the perfect birthday gift. 

“But, for now.  Until then.  What do you want to do?” Jin asked. 

“Movie day?” You suggested. “I kinda wanna just not have to do anything today,  I don’t even wanna get dressed.  That sounds like a day.” you laughed. 

“Then movie day it is!” Jin flashed you a wide grin. 

The rest of the day was spent binging all of your favorite movies, and one that you’d been wanting to see that definitely didn’t disappoint.  It was indeed a perfect day. 

You were laid out on the couch with your head resting on Jin, and your legs tossed over Jungkook. 

“Noona, do you want your presents now?” Jungkook asked cutely as the ending credits rolled on the movie. 

“Presents? I thought you guys being here and not leaving was my present! That's the best thing I could’ve hoped for!” 

Jin was playing with your hair a bit, running his fingers through it just how you loved. 

“Kook go get your Noona her presents.” he nodded at the younger man. 

Jungkook slipped out from under your legs, leaving for a moment and returning with three wrapped boxes. 

“That one first.” Jin pointed to the largest one, sky blue wrapping paper with a green bow sitting on top. 

You sat up with your boys on either side of you, eagerly waiting for you to tear away the paper and open your surprise. 

When you got it unwrapped and took off the lid, Jin started laughing like a mad man instantly. 

It was a whole box of Jin merch.  Signed pictures of his smiling face and small statues of himself.  

Jungkook groaned, “Jin hyung…” He shook his head. “I swear I didn’t know that's what he was getting you Noona.” 

You smiled and took out one of the photographs and held it to your chest. 

“I know this is supposed to be funny but I love it so much.” You leaned over and kissed Jin on the cheek. 

He booped you on the nose in return. 

“Open the smaller one next.  Your real one.” he pointed to the smaller one.   

This one was wrapped in pink paper with a hot pink bow.  It was so small and cute. 

You pulled off the paper and opened the box, revealing a beautiful heart locket with your initials engraved along with Jungkook’s and Jin’s.  You felt like you could cry.  It was so beautiful. 

“And open it up!” Jin bounced a little bit in his seat. 

Inside was a picture of Jin on one side and Jungkook on the other.  Your mouth fell open, it was perfect. 

“I know it’s still my face, but I figured you should have us with you always.” he smiled.  

You felt yourself tearing up even more and you leaned over practically tackling Jin with your hug. 

“Noona...mine isn’t sweet like that.  Now I’m embarrassed.” Kook whined “I’m not good at birthdays” he spoke with a groan. 

“Kookie.  I’m going to love it, it’s from you.” you smiled at him returning to the other present, wrapped in blue paper and a white bow. 

Jungkook seemed to be growing nervous as you opened the gift, his eyes were wide and flashing too and from the box and your face quickly. 

Inside was...oh...oh?

“Its dumb.  You said you wanted to but this wasn’t the time.  I’m so dumb.  You hate it! You wanted something sweet like Jins gift.  Ah fuck.” he instantly started stammering out his words, shaking his head. 

“Kookie.  No...this is.  A surprise.” You picked the item up out of the box and held it up, a smirk growing on your face.  “You’ve never done this before.  You want to try it? Honestly?” 

Jungkook’s face was turning red and he nodded shyly. 

It was a strap on.  He wanted you to fuck him with it…

You’d always mentioned wanting to, Jin was out of the question, he prefered to be the one doing the fucking, so you’d never even brought it up to him.  But Jungkook, your baby boy, you’d always wondered what it would be like to make him moan that way.

“This is an equally good gift Kook.” you couldn’t take your eyes off of it.  “Tonight?” you flashed a giant smile. 

“Y-yes...please noona?” He looked at you with excitement. “Do whatever you want to me.” 

You let out a giant sigh of contentment.  This was about to be your best birthday ever. 

“I love you both so much.” you looked to Jin and then to Jungkook. 

“And we love you too.  Happy birthday y/n” Jin planted a soft kiss on your temple. 

“Jungkook?” You turned to the man on your other side. 

“Y-yes noona?” he seemed to still be shy over the gift he’d given you. 

“Get that cute ass in our bed.  Time to try out your gift.”

[seokoloqy]

(1) Missed Call | jjk (m)

➳ PAIRING: jungkook x y/n

➳ GENRE: smut, idol!au

➳ WORD COUNT: 1.8k

➳ WARNINGS: the use of the word slut twice, dirty talk, masturbation

➳ SUMMARY: He never has time to pick up his phone while on tour, so you leave him innocent voicemails instead. But, when did your mundane voicemails suddenly get so interesting?

➳ A/N: the title sounds angsty but I swear it’s not angst also I wrote this at 3 am if there are any mistakes I’m sorry I write smut while sleep deprived

“Hey, are you doing alright? Hope you’re doing well.”

“How‘s it going, babe? Are you eating?”

“I miss you. Bye.”

“J-Jungkook, please… I need you. I want your cock buried inside me so badly—filling me up. I want you to fuck me raw and hold me down until I can’t walk in the morning. Fuck, it hurts. I want your fingers and your tongue on me until I’m shaking. Come home sooner, baby.”

Jungkook slowly lowers his phone, tense and feeling a pulse of heat shooting straight down to his rising cock from your breathy voicemail.

He never has his ringer on so you mostly catch his answering machine because he’s so busy these days, but maybe you’d get lucky enough for him to see the call. All the times you’ve been stuck with a cheery voicemail, you’ve never sent him anything like this before, sticking to the usual ‘hey’ and ‘call me back’ for the past month he has been on tour.

Jungkook’s fingers itch to press your ID and call you back, but he’s supposed to be on stage in five minutes. He only wanted to hear your voice beforehand, not expecting such a needy voicemail waiting for him. He curses the distance between you and tries to forget the image of you laid out in bed, using your fingers to get yourself off while calling his name.

“Shit, shit,” he mutters, shaking off the images.

“Hey, you okay?” Jimin puts a hand on his shoulder, curiously peeking over at Jungkook’s twisted expression.

“Yeah, I’m fine...”

You sigh, relaxing in a bed that’s too big for just one person. You miss the warmth that Jungkook brought to bed every night as he lay beside you. You miss seeing him before you shut your eyes and you miss feeling his arms wrap securely around you.

He hasn’t returned your call yet. It’s been three hours since you left him that voice message and you were hoping it would get him on the next flight back home, or at least a phone call back.

You were desperate and needy, trying your best to entice him. You’re sure it worked, he can’t resist the sound of your whines and moans. Just thinking about how horny you were earlier have you rubbing your thighs together for a semblance of relief between your throbbing core.

Counting down the days and nights until you see him again only make you impatient. Fourteen days and thirteen nights sound like forever when your body aches for him night after night.

Imagining him thrusting into you, knuckles turning white as he grabs the headboard, and the sloppy sounds of your bodies connecting—you groan. Two weeks is painful.

Maybe you should call him again. It should be around midnight where he is right now, and usually, he’s messing around on his phone and playing video games before bed.

Just as you roll over to grab your cellphone it begins to ring, the caller ID of Jungkook glows and illuminates the dark room. You lurch to grab and answer the call, holding the phone to your ear with an eager, “Hello?”

“What the hell were you trying to accomplish, babygirl?”

The chilling growl through your receiver sends shivers through you and shoots straight to your core. The sounds of water running in the background tell you he’s standing in the bathroom trying to conceal the filth he’s speaking from the others.

“What do you mean?” You ask, playing innocent to get him even more riled up.

“You leaving me a voicemail begging for my cock like a fucking slut,” he rasps.

Your lips quirk and you put your phone on speaker, leaving it on his pillow as you lay back down. Finding a comfortable position, your hand begins to wander down your body. Replacing your smaller hands with his, you think of them groping your breasts, kneading and toying with your sensitive nipples.

“Keep talking,” you moan, encouraging him further. Your fingers pinch the hardened buds, rolling them gently between your fingertips.

“When did my girl get so naughty, huh? Do you miss my cock that badly, baby?”

Jungkook’s teasing tone makes you groan, unable to formulate words, as his voice shoots straight to your core. The sticky wetness that leaks out of you dampens your underwear and you quickly move your hands down to slide them off, discarding it on to the floor.

“Rub your clit for me,” he orders, a rasp in his voice, parched and thirsting for you. “And don’t hold back your moans. You know I like hearing you whine.”

“Mhm,” you hum, hand trailing across your abdomen, tickling heat scorching a path down to your center. Your index finger presses against your clit as he ordered, slowly moving in circles and figure eights, electricity coursing through your body. A moan escapes your mouth as your stomach clenches, the spasm of pleasure floods your system.

“I bet you could slide a finger right in—fuck—even two. You’re probably soaking just thinking about my fingers fucking your tight cunt,” he says proudly.

“Yes, I’m so wet, Jungkook. Want your fingers in me,” you moan, taking your other hand to drag a finger up your slit, gathering the slick he already knew was there. He gets you wet easily, and he doesn’t even need to touch you before you’re already a sopping mess for him.

“Two fingers, babygirl. Now.”

He doesn’t have to ask again before your index and middle finger plunge into your pussy, knuckles deep and buried to the hilt. It has you gasping for breath, chanting his name loud enough for the phone to pick up on it and your neighbors to file a complaint.

“J-Jungkook, ah!”

Your back arches off the sheets, feet struggling to find a firm footing on the mattress and sliding down until you’re left spread out flat, legs splayed out with your fingers desperately pushing into your soaking heat. Your chest heaves, breaths of air come in shallow pants.

“Bring the phone down. I wanna hear you—wanna hear you making a mess of yourself for me,” he groans. You hear the phone being set onto the counter, along with the sound of his pants unzipping. And you can just imagine him pulling his thick cock out of the confines of his pants, an angry red color with precum leaking from the tip.

The hand previously rubbing your clit moves to bring the phone down between your thighs where your other hand is beginning to steadily move in and out. Your fingers pull back, coated in slick and leaving your core aching to be filled again.

You hear Jungkook’s heavy, ragged breath on the other end of the line as he begins to pleasure himself. The sloppy sounds of his hand moving feverishly against his cock echoes in the receiver.

“What are you waiting for?” His words are strained, trying to keep himself together for you. “I wanna hear you too.”

That jump starts you again to push your fingers back in, enjoying the stretch of your fingers that aren’t as perfect as Jungkook’s. Keeping in rhythm with Jungkook’s movements heard over the phone, your hand moves rapidly, drilling into your core to keep up with him.

Your legs prop up, toes curling around the sheets as your hips move against your hand. All you can hear are the lewd noises of your soaking pussy meeting the thrusts of your fingers mingled with your uneven breaths.

“Fuck, you sound so wet.”

Your eyes screw shut, thinking of Jungkook hovering over you, glistening with sweat dripping down the expanse of his chest as he thrusts into you roughly. He’d lean down, capturing your lips into a passionate kiss as his hand knots through your hair, the sting of his hand on your scalp. The sounds of his ragged breath in your ear as he whispers how much he loves the way you feel around him—how much he wants to watch you unravel beneath him.

“Would you beg for my tongue too?” He growls, “God, I wanna taste you.”

Pinning your hips down to the mattress so you’re unable to buck your hips against his mouth, his tongue lapping up your pussy while his thumb draws harsh circles around your clit. He could eat you out for hours, spending the majority savoring your taste and making you come three times in a row until your legs can barely move. You feel your walls clench around your fingers, signaling you that you’re close.

“J-Jungkook-” You pant, but it comes out more like a whine, needy and desperate for your high to come soon.

“Hmm? What’s that, babygirl?” He sounds distracted, busy with himself he nearly forgot you were on the phone with him.

“I’m- I’m gonna come, Jungkook. I wanna come.” Your finger starts tracing circles on your clit again, feeling the rush of pleasure flood your senses.

“Wait,” he grunts, still commanding you as he pleases from oceans away.

You want to disobey and seek your release before him, unable to hold out any longer. Punishment, when he comes home, will be expected and you’re willing to risk whatever he has in store. You want it—for him to bend you over his knee and spank you raw while calling you his disobedient little slut.

The thought of punishment sends your orgasm crashing in waves upon you as your hips come to a halt and you ride your high, clenching around your fingers as they milk you. The stars behind your eyelids fade, your legs collapse on to the bed as your body goes limp, fingers still resting inside your sensitive core.

Your obvious cry of pleasure has him coming right after you. His halted breaths and choked gasp over the line comes to a stop and goes quiet.

You think he’s hung up on you.

After removing your hand and wiping your messy fingers against your thigh, you reach down for your phone to find the call still connected. The seconds still counting—one, two, three—and then he tisks, “When I get home I’m going to fuck you until-”

His menacing voice halts as there’s a knock on his door.

“Kook? You’ve been taking a shower forever! It’s my turn!” You hear Jimin’s muffled whine through the receiver.

The shower in the background shuts off and Jungkook calls back, clearing his throat, “One second.”

You roll over to Jungkook’s untouched side of the bed, inhaling his lingering scent. Nestling beneath the covers you turn off the speaker and put the phone to your ear.

“We’re not done yet, babygirl,” he promises, zipping up his pants. His voice gets closer, then adds in a much softer voice, “I love you. See you in two weeks.”

You smile, picking at the corner of his pillow, “I love you too.”

[moirai-au]

Timeline: arc 6 - Aftermath, about a week after the Orator is defeated

Warnings: shippy, Davil, vague mentions of alcoholism and self-harm

Taglist: @immabethehero @bupine​ @tabbynerdicat @i-maybe-exist @its-ethan-bro @sandinthetardis @honestlyitsjustkenna @taikeero-lecoredier @idkwheresanti

if any of yall (18+ only for the love of god please) wanna see the ns*w version, it’s over here.

“And you still won’t tell me where we’re going, or what we’re even doing.”

“Nope! That’s the whole concept of a surprise, babe.”

Cecil pursed his lips, unamused. He closed the book he’d been finishing just a moment prior and set it aside, on the growing pile of useless volumes right next to the desk. It wasn’t as big or as comfortable as the one in his own apartment, but it made do. “You do know I still have three other idiots to take care of here, right?”

“They’ll be fine, trust me. Charlie can take care of himself, Mars barely does anything but sleep for now, and Ollie’s watching over him. You can leave for a few hours without the mansion burning to the ground, you know.”

Cecil raised a brow. “...Were you even here for the last month and a half?”

“Painfully present, yeah,” Dave chuckled. “Remember the smell of the oven melting? I still don’t understand how the kid pulled that one off.”

The older man groaned. “For someone who wanted to reassure me, you’re not doing a very good job of it.”

“Oh c’mon! It’s gonna be okay, I’m sure of it. Besides, you really need a break.”

“I do not!” Cecil protested, distractedly scratching at his appearing stubble. Dave peered up at him with a deadpan look, considering his wrinkled clothes, his emaciated face and the dark rings under his eyes. “...Really? You know what, it doesn’t matter,” he shook his head, his blue eyes hardening. “This is me putting my foot down, not a negotiation. I’m not gonna sit here and let you run yourself into the ground like this. You’re coming with me, and that’s final.”

 The doctor stared at the younger man, taken aback- he’d never heard him use this tone before. it was firm, confident, and evidently left no room for complaint. “...Fine.” he heard himself say before he even realized it. Verdammt. Maybe he was more tired than he thought, giving in that easily.

Or maybe Dave just had this natural sense of authority Cecil had never seen before, because he’d never actually needed it. It actually made sense, considering he was a father.

Thinking about it now, it was obvious. Cecil could’ve hit himself.

“Great!” David beamed, his previous sternness gone as fast as it had arrived. “Just lemme grab a few things first, and pack warm clothes. I’ll get my car.”

“I- your car?” the doctor repeated, his confusion growing- just how far was Dave planning to take them? The smaller male only winked in response, an impish grin on his tanned face. “You’ll see.”

 ***

 It was an abnormally warm night for mid-december.

Well, warm as in… not freezing. Enough above zero that you could stand outside comfortably with a thick enough sweater kinda warm. When-even-are-seasons-anymore-climate-change-is gonna-kill-us-all kinda warm.

“I don’t get it.” Cecil mumbled as they exited the car, making a valiant effort to tone down his annoyance. “Why have you brought us here?” There truly was nothing here, other than miles and miles of rolling hills, some train tracks a few yards away, and a forest somewhere East.

Dave didn’t respond- he just smiled up at him, a hand holding the strap of the backpack he’d brought along. A giddy smile that made Cecil’s stomach flutter a little. Then he silently pointed upward, looking at him expectantly.

Cecil frowned, nonplussed, reflexively following the other’s movement; what was he-

What… was…

 He was looking up. Up, up into the endless sky. And he kept on looking, jaw growing slack, arms falling to his sides.

Because there was just so many stars so many stars more than he’d ever seen in his entire life, it was like he was ten all over again looking up through the window and babbling about rocket ships and aliens and how he was going to see it all one day-

 “You okay in there, hot stuff?”

Cecil snapped out of his stupor, looking down to see David smirking smugly at him- he was holding a thermos in each of his hands, and there was a blanket laid on the grass, big enough for the two of them. So that’s what he’d packed in his bag. “How-” he cleared his throat, “How did you…”

Dave only winked, tapping a finger against his temple. “...Oh.” the doctor realized. Right. They’d all been in each other’s heads.

“It’s mostly faded by now,” Dave shrugged, setting the warm containers on a corner of the blanket, “Those are your memories, and nobody should snoop through them… but that one stuck with me. And I- I really wanted to surprise you, y’know?”

Cecil nodded, not the slightest trace of anger or annoyance on his features. He just looked up again, silent, pale moonlight lighting up his milky white skin.

Then he looked back at him and Dave was pretty sure he was going to die on the spot.

 Cecil was smiling. Not the cocky, arrogant smirk he sometimes wore. Nor the small, timid one he managed to draw out of him once in a blue moon.

An actual, genuinely happy smile that went up to his grey, dark-rimmed eyes, crinkled up and sparkling with joy. Oh, fuck me, he thought.

 Could one fall for the same person twice?

 “Thank you,” Cecil breathed out, his voice uncharacteristically unsteady. “I… You… I’m sorry. For- for getting annoyed, I know I shouldn’t, you don’t- you deserve better.”

Ah, shit. This tall motherfucker was actually going to make him cry at this rate. “Shit man,” Dave choked, stepping closer to Cecil. “Just- c’m’here.”

He wrapped his arms around the taller man’s middle and pulled him close, tilting his head up to welcome the German’s lips on his own, the older man’s slender hands settling on both sides of his face. The kiss was slow, tender, yet filled with latent intensity and passion. They somehow ended up on the blanket, sitting ever-so close and filling the chilly air with wanton sighs and hums, carried away by the cold breeze.

 They eventually pulled back, catching their breath- they were both flushed, eyes slightly glazed over, as they looked at each other with gentle devotion. “I must say…” the doctor murmured, still a bit lightheaded, “This is… quite the break.”

Dave chuckled fondly, before pecking playfully at his lover’s forehead. “Told you you needed it. You’re running yourself ragged Ceec, no wonder you’re on edge.”

“Still, I shouldn’t keep taking out my frustration on you. It’s not right.”

Dave hummed. “Yeah, I know. But you’ve gotten better at it, really. Just gotta keep going forward, yeah?” He tucked a strand of greying hair behind Cecil’s left ear. “ ‘sides, you know I won’t just stand there and take it if you really start to be an ass.”

Cecil snorted. “So I’ve seen. You’d probably snap me in two.”

“Damn right I could! Look at that scrawny ass, I could kick it into the sun.”

“Mmh, I don’t think so. You like it too much, as you keep telling me.”

“Aw shit, he figured it out,” Dave fake-whispered, before they both broke out into laughter. “Oh, also,” he gasped when the hilarity subsided, “this isn’t just a break. S’also a celebration!”

“A celebration?”

 Dave smiled, holding out a thermos to the older man. He looked proud of himself. “Happy one month clean, handsome.”

It took him a few seconds to understand, but when he did, he reflexively rubbed at his arm, feeling his face warm up significantly as he accepted the offering, taking a sip. Mmh, black coffee, no cream and no sugar. Just how he liked it. “Ah… yes, thank you.”

“And I’m almost three months sober!” the father cheered, wrapping an arm around his partner’s neck to pull him closer. “Man, look at us. We’re doing amazing, sweetie.”

Cecil chuckled, a little smile gracing his lips as he looked up at the inky skies above. “I… guess we are.”

 They laid down next to each other, their shoulders bumping together as they huddled under the extra blanket Dave had brought along. Alone, together on that grassy hill more than an hour away from the city, they tried to find as many constellations as they could while Cecil offered trivia and anecdotes on each of them, like the Earth’s sky map had been burned into his brain at a young age. 

But then again, with the doctor’s photographic memory, it might’ve just been.

 Ursa Major. Altair. Alpha Centauri. Supernovas. Nebulae. His eyes shone with almost feverish enthusiasm as he talked, making him look so much younger, so alive, as Dave listened with rapt attention.

Then, as the older man was going over the specifics of the supermassive black whole at the center of the Milky Way, Dave rolled them over, coming to a stop to stand on all fours above Cecil, smiling lovingly.

The German stopped rambling and blinked up at him- with his hair uncovered and framing his face in auburn curls, his deep blue eyes crinkled up in amusement, and the myriad of stars surrounding him, David looked like he belonged in a Van Gogh painting. Beautiful. Almost ethereal, yet so real, so… tangible. Oh how he wanted to frame the moment so he could keep it forever.

He gulped. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Before he could stop himself, his finger mindlessly started to trace invisible lines between Dave’s freckles, drawing a surprised giggle from the man. 

 His very own milky way. Full of constellations for him alone to name. All within his reach.

 “Shouldn’t you look up? The stars are up there.” he mumbled, thoughts not quite straight. Dave laughed, clear and deep. “Don’t need to. I can see them in your eyes. That’s more than enough for me.”

Silence. Cecil huffed. “That was the corniest thing you’ve said yet.”

“C’mon, you know you like it. You’re blushing.”

“Shut up and kiss me again, you dumm.”

 Dave happily complied.

***

It would be dawn soon. As they stared at the endless space above them- mostly void, partially stars- sipping hot tea and coffee from their respective thermoses, huddled together under a thick woolen blanket to shield themselves from the chilliness of that winter night… they felt like they’d brushed with eternity.

“Hey.” Dave whispered, breaking the comfortable silence.

A quiet hum of acknowledgement.

“Do you.. regret not going? Up there.”

“Mmh. F’course, a little still. T’was my dream.” the German mumbled, words slurring together. Right. Of course he did, dumb question. “But…”

The father blinked. “But…?”

“Wouldn’t have met… Mars. ‘liver.” A pause, an intake of breath. “Met you.”

 Dave bit his lip, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. He wiped at the wetness at the corner of his eyes, smiling so hard it almost hurt. “Y-Yeah. I guess so.” He squeezed his lover’s hand underneath the blanket. “Ceec…?”

 A quiet, soft snore was his only reply. Dave chuckled quietly and turned his head- Cecil was out like a light, lips slightly parted, his usually sharp features smoothed over and relaxed.

The smaller man gently reached out to cup the other’s sleeping face, his thumb slowly stroking over his cheekbone- just watching. This wasn’t a sight he was graced with often; they might have been sharing a bed for a few weeks now, but the doctor always went to sleep later than he did, and always got up before him, by the pale light of dawn… that is, when he even bothered to sleep at all.

That was the main reason why he’d dragged his partner out on this little trip- Cecil had been working himself to the bone again, going over piles and piles of old books in search for an explanation, for any information on Mars’ abilities and his newfound… condition. To no avail so far, which was driving the older man even more frantic. Between this, trying to cater to everyone’s physical and mental wellness, and the logistical nightmare that was the latest addition to their little group- an honest-to-god time-traveler… well, he looked like the slightest breeze would knock him over.

In short, he’d been in need of a break. Badly. Preferably the kind that would knock some sense into that big brain of his. Since they both had gotten together, Dave had been trying to get Cecil to take better care of himself, to stop skipping meals, to finally sleep a decent amount each night… hell, he’d started to see some actual progress before Mars was kidnapped and everything had gone to shit. 

He couldn’t let his efforts go to waste, especially not now. Not in such a delicate time, when they were all still recovering. And now, looking at Cecil, sleeping deeply and peacefully for the first time since the kid had disappeared almost a month ago… Dave was glad he hadn’t given up.

 And that he’d filled that thermos with decaf, but Ceec didn’t need to know that.

 Dave sighed contentedly as he snuggled closer to the other, burying his face in his chest and drawing the blanket higher over them both, letting himself be lulled into a comfortable drowsiness. Their backs would probably be sore from sleeping on the hard ground... but that was a problem for future them.

[xadoheandterra]

Mimneskesthai - Misrecollect - Amnesia pt 5

Series:  Mimneskesthai Title: Misrecollect Chapter: Amnesia pt 5 (1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | AO3) (Hypomnesia) Fandom: Red vs Blue Characters: Alpha AI, Church, Tucker Story Summary: Church blamed his faulty memory on the head injury. Everything was all mixed up. He’s pretty sure he’s got the most important bits down now; if only Captain Flowers would stop asking. Honestly it’s like Agent Florida—Flowers—Florida?—thought Church would give him away.

Oh.

Oh.

Well this explained a lot.

.

Wherein Alpha’s memories are even more of a mess than previously thought.

a·mnesia – n. modern latin                1. loss of a large block of interrelated memories; complete or partial loss of memory caused by brain injury, shock, etc.                2. loss of memory from –               a- – prefix; latin                             1. Not               -mnesia – suffix; latin                             1. (condition or type of) memory               from –                             a·mnesia – n. greek                                           1. forgetfulness

Tucker didn’t realize he’d dozed off until Church dropped down next to him, his own riffle in hand and a small sack with binoculars that Captain Flowers didn’t know about. Church nudged Tucker with the end of his riffle, which jerked the other man straight awake. Tucker twisted and blinked behind his visor.

“Church?”

“Hey man, sleeping on the job?” Church snorted. “That boring out here?”

Tucker sighed and dropped his head against the wall. “Fuck. Yes,” Tucker groaned out. “I can’t see shit which doesn’t help. If only I could have that sniper riffle…” Church dug out the binoculars and dropped them onto Tucker’s lap.

“There. You’re lookout, I’m backup,” Church replied and Tucker stared at the binoculars.

“You do realize I have to take off my helmet to use these right?” Tucker said slowly.

“That’s why you’re lookout,” Church said; a part of him sounded almost teasing.

“I don’t know…can you shoot worth shit?” Tucker questioned and tilted his head in Church’s direction.

Church snorted. “I’m the best there is,” he bragged.

Tucker pulled his fingers up to the latch and started to pull off his helmet as he huffed, “Yeah, Mr. Brain Damage? How would you know?”

“How would you know?” Church shot back with a huff. Tucker shook his head as he finally pulled the helmet free. Tucker picked up the binoculars and leaned around the side. He shifted down onto his belly to create a smaller target and began to adjust the sights on the tool to see over at Red Base. Church watched him for a moment. “Thanks, asshole,” he muttered. “For the aspirin.”

“Whatever, dickface,” Tucker shot back.

“Anything interesting?”

Tucker huffed and kicked a leg in Church’s direction. Church yelped and toppled over. He quickly righted himself, Tucker could tell by the way Church scrambled and how his voice puffed angrily behind his visor.

“What the fuck was that for?” Church yelled, voice reaching a pitch bordering on shrieking. “I just asked you a fucking question; like seriously? Why’d you go and kick me you fucktard?”

“Shut up, I’m focusing,” Tucker said dryly, although there was a faint undercurrent of laughter that Church picked up.

“Oh fuck you.”

“Buy me dinner first and we’ll see,” Tucker shot back and Church fell silent. Tucker listened as Church settled himself back down and tried to discern what the Reds were doing. For some reason the yellow and maroon one were just standing around atop their base. Didn’t they know how easy a shot from a sniper that made them?

“Well?” Church grumbled.

“They’re just standing there,” Tucker sighed frustrated and pulled back from the edge. He set the binoculars aside. “Out in the open like a bunch of dickweeds who have no idea how snipers work.”

Church blinked behind the visor while Tucker pulled his own back on.

“Seriously?” the disbelief turned his normal words almost reedy.

“Yeah. We could wipe them out easy at this rate,” Tucker grumbled. “If Captain Flowers would just give me that sniper riffle.”

“In your dreams,” Church snorted. Both settled back down and ignored the red base, guns in their laps as they sat behind the safe walls of the base’s roof. “What loadout did you see them with?” Church asked after a moment to settle.

Tucker rolled his shoulders. “The two idiots up top just have your standard BR55 Service Riffle from what I could see. Nothing too spectacular.”

Church grunted acknowledgement and mumbled something about, “Probably the standard service loadout then,” before he relaxed and said louder, “That’s good. Maybe we can get Flowers to let us actually form a battle strategy?”

“Don’t you have to be fighting fit before we do that?” Tucker pointed out. “I mean dude you came out of your weird coma less than a week ago!” Church turned his head toward Tucker. “When Flowers said you were fine and we were up scouting that cliff don’t you remember that you passed out like, three times, and once almost fell down the damn thing?”

Church turned his head away. “I know,” he said tiredly. “These fucking headaches and the—I know, alright? I’m just a fucking liability right now.”

“Nah, I didn’t say that,” Tucker leaned back and folded his arms behind his head. “With those guys as our enemy? You’re fine. I doubt they’ll do anything interesting. They seem kinda stupid.”

“I’m just holding us back,” Church mumbled, and something about that tone struck Tucker as odd.

“Dude, fuck you are holding us back,” Tucker pointed out. He shifted forward and leaned over his riffle to look at his fellow Private. “Man I don’t know where you got that attitude but seriously? This is the best fucking time I’ve had in a while. I mean there could be more chicks to look at but seriously? This is pretty damn chill.”

“Yeah?” Church asked. He looked to Tucker and—Tucker sucked his lip between his teeth.

“Yeah, man. Best fucking time I’ve had in a while,” Tucker said. Church huffed a laugh and leaned back.

Tucker felt a bit bad—something about that tone just hurt and given what Tucker saw earlier—Tucker forced himself to breath normally. He wondered where Church even got that bullshit idea anyway. Tucker shook his head and glanced around the edge of the wall.

“What do you say we ditch guard duty and go do something else?” Church asked.

“Like what?”

“Fuck if I know. Monopoly?”

Tucker twisted back around to stare at Church.

“Monopoly?” he asked, curious.

Church shrugged. “I’ve always wanted to play.”

Tucker stared, and stared, and then laughed from underneath the helmet. Alright, he could do this. Yeah, he could definitely do this.

“Alright, but let’s make it more interesting,” Tucker cackled and got to his feet. He offered Church his hand.

“How so?”

Tucker hummed in thought, and then a wicked idea crossed his mind. “Strip Monopoly.”

“What?!”

Ah, the squeak of a man who didn’t know what he was getting into. Tucker grinned.

“You heard me, asshole. You in?”

Church was silent, and then he grinned and grabbed Tucker’s hand. “Oh you are going down, you fucker.” They both headed back into the base without a further word.

Hours later Florida would wake up to loud, reedy, shrieking curses coming from Church, and pleased crows coming from Tucker. He’d lay there for a while, and then smile in slight fondness at the memories that the noises dragged up. Still, he’d hate to ruin their fun, but at the same time oh how he’d enjoy it. Finding Alpha naked and cussing out Private Tucker just made the entire experience even more amusing.

[let-them-eat-rakes]

RED REALITY (part 2)

…

…

[Dr. Scranton's voice is noticeably distorted now. Hypothesized to a combination of both him and the control panel finally showing signs of reality breakdown.]

Robert… cold. I can't… I can't feel my legs anymore. I think… I'm beginning to… Hitting that point I… talked about… Low Hume Field… Diffusion… Equilibrium… bunch of… stupid… garbage…

I don't know what's real in here any more. Hell, I'm not sure I'm real. Or… something… something close to it… If… If I really am going out like this, I… I… I don't want to die yet. I don't want to die yet. Oh, god I don't wanna die yet…

I ran up in one straight diagonal line, for six months. I went down in one… no I just went down again… for… eight. There's still no bottom, red, there's still no bottom.

What have you been up to, Red? Have you been listening for me all this time? You're a stubborn little guy, Red…

Lucy.

Huh, Red? Sorry, I must have fell asleep. What did you want? Oh… sorry, I-I'll try to remember…

Lucy. That's what we wanted to call our kid if we had one. Lucy Scranton, Lucy Lang, Anna and I both thought it would have a nice ring. I-I- No, Red, I… I don't remember picking out a boy's name…

"Good morning… good morni-i-ing. We've talked… the whole… through…"

Man, I really suck at tap-dancing. Can't feel my feet at all. Okay, you try then, Red.

Kejel's Law states that Hume Fields diffuse, Kejel's Law states that my balls will eventually fall off if this keeps up.

"Anna… Anna bo banna…" Heh, she hated that song, and I loved to tease her with it. "Anna… Anna bo banna banana… banana, banana canna…" It actually became a joke between us, did you know? We made it the words that turn you on. [Pause.] Come on, red, act your age, don't be immature. [Sighs.] Fine, guess you have a sense of humor after all, maybe!

Heheheh, we're gonna have to fuck with so much science when we get out, this place breaks apart rules like my hand is breaking right now.

Spiderwebs. My left hands. Spiderwebs.

There was a reality-bending spider at Site-120 once. I should crush it. Red, would you crush it for me when we get out?

Average ten, fifteen kilometers a day, plus a few breaks. Thirty, two, thirty, ten, no, eleven, no, no ten, I think. At least, three hundred left, and… and… shit no, was faster going down… Fuck it, I'm saying about six hundred kilometers down. Took a hell of a lot longer coming up.

Far down. Bottomless? Infinite? And beyond. Shut up, Robert, you're not funny.

Hume Field, boom field… breaking down at a rate of… shit, what's the constant of Modified Prommel Relations? Ten to the fourth? No, no… fifth… fifth, I think…

One year. Maybe add a few more months.

Red, how does David sound? David. You know, you asked about… yeah, yeah, that. Sorry I woke you…

My… my hands. I… my hands are going through each other… Red. Red! RED! Red, help, help, please, my hands, I can't feel my hands, they're going through each other like… like… they're like ice water, Red, I can't, oh god, oh god…

Huh… huh… huh… Red… You know… you know that… that stupid magic trick your uncle would show you where he'd pull his thumb off, but it was really just his other one tucked under?

I just did that. With my real thumb. It didn't even hurt, it just came off. I think… Oh, god I'm gonna be sick. I-I- [Sounds of retching.] I think… I think it's just floating right now, and I can't even pick it up, my hand just passes through it, oh god, oh god, I-I-

My left pinky feels like… an onion.

Yeah, it's separated.

NICE TRY HELL, ring's on the RIGHT hand, nice try left.

I can… go… right through myself… I can… feel inside me.

It feels… warm.

But also cold.

When I sleep… my hands go in my head. I'm sleeping on my back now.

Static. I'm like static on a TV.

Chhhk. Chhhhk. Chhhk.

Ha. Hahahaha. Hahahahahahaha. Well, I-I-I only need one kidney, right? RIGHT? RED, RED LOOK AT THIS! Haha. Hahahahahaha…

Let me keep my heart, just my heart, that's all I want.

Lucy. David. Are you there? I want to see you.

Lucy. David. That's not fair. Come on, hey, quit messing around, I was joking when I said that, I was joking. COME ON, THAT'S FUCKED UP, I WAS JOKING.

I'm a man, be a man, Robert, you're a man, WHAT THE FUCK.

Anna… Annaaaa…

Four years, six months, eighteen days.

I'm not… I'm not even doing it myself anymore. I can… feel it happening on its own… Finally. Finally, I can… I still can't say it… I'm… I'm still scared…

I… definitely won't eat anymore now…

Still really hungry.

That is fucking disgusting, Robert, and you know it. NO. SEE, RED THINKS SO TOO. NO.

This little piggie went to market.

This little piggie went… somewhere.

This little… foot. Foot… RED?!

Five years, 13 days.

Haha.

Hahahahahahaha

Hahahahahahahahahaha.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Five years, 14 days.

Five years, 15 days.

Five years, 15 days.

Five years, 15 days.

Five years, 15 days.

Five years, 15 days.

Five years, 15 days.

Five years, 15 days.

Stop it, you're hurting me.

Five years, 19 days.

I'm feeling better now, red, sorry.

How do you do it, red? Keep it together? Spill it out, I need some help here… I need some help…

Red. Come on. Don't do that. Don't go. I know it's hard. I know it's dark. But-but- it's dark and we're together still. Come on. Red. No. No. You-you can't. RED! Come on, buddy, stay with me, Red! Come on! I can still touch you! I CAN STILL TOUCH YOU LOOK AT ME RED YOU ARE NOT DYING YET NO RED NO!

[No audio is recorded for the next 9 months.]

Five years, nine months, two days.

…

Red?

Five years, nine months, three days.

Five years, nine months, three days.

Five years, nine months, three days.

Five years, nine months, three days.

Five years, nine months, three days.

Five years, nine months, three days.

Five years, nine months, three days.

Five years, nine months, three days.

[Automated message repeats 97 more times.]

You little shit, I thought you left me… [Dr. Scranton's voice is barely audible/coherent, as if through a heavily distorted, muted radio.]

…

Sorry to say, red, but… there's not much left here… I… it's been hard. I've… 184. I've tried to kill myself 184 times. It didn't work. …None of them worked. I'm… I don't even know how much there is of me anymore. At least one foot, because I can move. Probably a few leg muscles too, but I'm wobbly. Insides are… insides are shit. Still a heart, maybe a lung. This place… really won't let me stop… Tired…

I… did die, red. Come on red, don't look at me like, I don't want your pity and I don't want shock, or anger, or fear, or, or… I can't… When… 224, I miscounted…

One, two, three, four… [Dr. Scranton counts from one to 220-245 several times over for the next 13 hours.]

I died. I died, a lot. I tried to suffocate, I tried to snap my neck, I tried to bite myself apart. And… and… This place. It's not real. I left, I saw myself, on the ground and I couldn't— I couldn't— I couldn't go anywhere. I couldn't leave. There's no way to leave, I just floated back down, and each, damn, time, there was less and less of me. I-I- oh, god, how much more can I take away and still live?

So why are… why are you back now? What do you want to tell me?

Five years, nine months, twelve days.

Heh…

This place is getting smaller. Red, did you somehow do this? I… there's an end here for sure now. It's gone from… god knows how long to… There's like a veil further out and when I touched it hurt like hell. Red, what's going on?

It's… it's not dark. That border or whatever is getting brighter and, I mean, it's still fucking dark but… oh god, I can actually see something now. I…I… oh, god, what the fuck is this? I… oh, god, I didn't know I was this bad. Oh, god, oh god, oh god, there's so much gone—

Five years, ten months, ten days.

Red, you're solid. Like, no, you're really fucking solid. You're… you're real. And… and… I'm real too when… only when I touch you. But… Red, it… it really hurts when I do. I… I think that if I touch you I might fall apart…

You — really fucking hurt, Red, Jesus Christ, you hurt, what the fuck is going on?

About three kilometer in radius, and closing. Is this… is this something like Kejel's Fourth Law? But… but… what the hell is taking it? Hey! HEY! I'm in here still stop! You're causing a collapse! HEY! HEY!

Two kilometers. Oh god, what's gonna happen when it closes? DAMMIT, RED YOU HURT!

Not collapsing. Waves. They're… waves… What?

Robert, you are a goddamn genius. Not walls, windows. Open windows.

Five years, ten months, twenty-eight days.

Anna, Anna can you hear me? These waves… this place… Okay, imagine, two realities as two pieces of paper stuck together. This place is the space squished between. There should be only two realities, parallel, but this place is a tiny, but infinite third… third… in-between, like what would happen if you fell into a hole crossing a bridge from Point A to Point B! Remember Class-C Wormholes? Those theories about a wormhole that was full of goddamn holes. I think… I think this is where one of those holes leads. It doesn't lead to a different universe, it leads to nothing. A dead end. This place is a dead end. Class-C "Broken Entry".

These waves. Wherever they're coming from, they're from some parallel reality interacting with this place, displacing this in-between place every so slightly. And they're all… pushing on me and red, because since we still have some level of reality, they're pushing, or… or sucking us towards them, gradually creating a new wormhole towards… towards… home.

…

What's going to happen to me when I go back? When the window closes?

Think, dammit, Robert, think. You've got to think! Think harder! THINK HARDER!

Red, I'm gonna, ah, I'm gonna have to, Jesus- gah, I'm gonna have to move away from you, you, I don't know, you're sick or something, you're really messed up right now. Call me when you're feeling better.

…I can't… I can't think… right… Blood. Blood. There's… way… too much… ha…

Drip, drip, drip, where does it allllllll…. gooooooooooooo… [Retching noises.]

I haven't… [Retching noises.] tasted barf in forever. Not even when I threw up after my… my… you're a man, Robert.

Oh, god. Oh god not again, not again, not again— [Retching.]

…

[Voice breaks.] How…? How…? How can I be throwing up this much, red, tell me… I don't… [Retching.] I don't even have a stomach to hold it in anymore… And the bleeding never… stops… [Dr. Scranton breaks down into crying for the next two hours.]

Be- [Retching.] better… now. Thinking.. straight…

Red, I… I don't know if I'm ready to go back anywhere yet…

Five years, eleven months, three days.

No, red, I'm not being selfish, it wasn't you, it was these goddamn waves coming in. I can't be near them. Red, look, look at me. See this? Red, look at me. LOOK. I can't be near them, they'll kill me. I passed the three years quite a while back, remember?

Because, even… even after all this time… I don't want to die, red. I'm still scared. [Voice breaks.] Red, I am scared, okay? You wouldn't understand, you're not… you're not human, red.

Oh I'm sorry for offending you, red. No, red, come on, I didn't mean it like that. Red, look at me. You're my friend, do you get that? You are, my best friend. But… let's face it, you've got a much better chance of getting out of here a—…. Just leave me alone, please, red? Just for a bit… I'm sorry, okay? I really am…

Can you… hear the waves coming in, red? That little hum and shake as it hits your ears? I can. And it's getting louder every time, and it hurts so bad. [Begins to sob quietly.] It hurts so bad.(4)

No… No, no, no, no, no… NO. NO. NO. Why? Why?! Just let me go, let me go… LET ME GO DAMMIT, oh god… [Sobbing.]

[Sobbing groan.] Another five years. Five more years. If this keeps up, I'm getting re-stabilized for another FIVE FUCKING GODDAMN YEARS, RED WHAT DO I DO?!

[Over the next five days, the control panel does begin to pick up a low frequency hum that comes in pulses. The volume increases steadily, and as it does, Dr. Scranton can be heard screaming, crying, and speaking incoherently in the background.]

[Voice is noticeably shaky.] Red.

[At this point the background humming noise is picked up at a rate of 20 pulses/min.]

Five years, eleven months, nine days.

Help. [Loud splattering noise heard as something strikes what is assumed to be the control panel.]

[Complete silence for five days. Pulses increase in volume, as well as frequency to 30 per minute.]

[Loud splattering noise.]

Red. [Dr. Scranton's voice is extremely slurred, almost incomprehensible.]

Red.

Red, give me your leg, I need support.

Red, give me your lever, arm. HAND!

Red, I need to see better, give me your light, no sorry, no, no light needed, got it, sorry, something else.

Anna.

I want pretty eyes. Anna, Anna, give me your eye, I only have one.

Anna, Anna, give me your lips, I want to kiss you again.

[dcbicki]

Do dan/amy with #1

1. Things you said to me at 1AM | Post s-6, in which Amy is eight months pregnant, there's a crib that needs building, and Dan is a complete fucking tool.

(Bitch, I went well over a thousand words with this, so… thanks for that.)

-

Arriving home, she hadn’t expected to see a couple dozen boxes - some smaller, some larger - littering the rooms of the apartment.

“Dan!” She’d called out, hoping to find her roomate-come-baby-daddy-but-definitely-not-partner nearby. He’d called to say he’d be home early. And it’s gone twelve, so where the fuck-

“In the other room.”

She’d found him crouching down on the floor, all jeans and crinkled shirt, holding up two pieces of white wood.

The crib. Right.

She’s been here ever since, in a room bound to become a nursery, watching him toy around with the unassembled pieces of the child’s bed.

“You know, Catherine and Marjorie just ordered theirs. And it came pre-built.” She clicks her tongue, types some shit into her phone, looks over at Dan, “Then again, they aren’t as fucking extra as you.”

“I’m not gonna be fuckin’ upstaged by a sophomore lesbian and her backup sperm donor.”

Amy rolls her eyes, tries to avoid cracking a smile, “At least she chose the baby’s genes.” She doesn’t bring up the fact that Dan was the original donor, “This baby’ll probably come out with a head full of gel, clutching a fucking iPad.”

She holds her phone until her knuckles turn white - nothing new there - as if to demonstrate her point. Then she crosses her legs, and lets it drop (odd) into her lap, keeping a straight face as she watches him.

It’s past midnight, and they’re still no closer to having the fucking crib built.

“Remind me again why you didn’t just let the delivery guy do it instead?”

There’s a hex key, a couple dozen pieces of varnished white wood, and some bits and pieces laid out on the floor. They’ve been there for about an hour and half, and Dan doesn’t seem to have even built one side of the fucking thing.

“I’m not having some white trash truck driver’s grubby hands all over my kid’s bed, alright? Fuck, do you really want those kinda germs hanging around the apartment?” He scowls.

Yeah. Sure. That’s it. He’s such a cheapskate when he wants to be.

“I can build a fuckin’ crib, Amy. Jesus.” He grumbles, tosses down a wrench (she’s pretty sure he doesn’t need a wrench), and rests his hands on his hips, untucking the shirt from his pants. “You wanna give it a shot?”

“Because you can’t?” The blonde raises a brow, smirks, “No. It’s actually kinda fun watching you struggle.” She reasons, crosses her legs comfortably, sitting Indian style.

“Oh, yeah?”

Amy hums, nods her head and leans back in the rocking chair. It’s uncomfortable as all hell, but Sophie suggested they buy one. (And she listened why?)

“Even Mike can handle a little DIY, for fuck’s sake.”

“Yeah, well, that neanderthal was around when they were still making tools out of wood so that’s not surprising, Ames.”

She grins, “Hell, I’m sure even Jonah could do it if you gave him a tutorial.”

The daggers he shoots her make her smile widen, and Amy raises both brows at his retort, “Fuck you.”

Dan bites at his bottom lip for a second, wipes the bridge of his nose with his wrist. (As though he’s been working hard. Please.)

There are two slats of wood at his feet, perpendicular and screwed together. It’s the most he’s done so far. (Is that even right?) She could probably have the thing built in ten - no, twenty - minutes or so, but she won’t lend a hand. Fuck no.

He said he could do it. He can prove himself. Besides, it’s really kind of amusing to her to watch him fail miserably. Then again, he hasn’t exactly been trying very hard.

Reaching down, Dan picks up the instruction sheet, balls it up in his fist before tossing it in the box the unbuilt crib arrived in. They had a bunch of furniture unloaded several hours ago, but so far none of it has been constructed.

Luckily she’s only eight months along, and they’ve still got some weeks to go before the little fucker arrives.

“Well, that’s good. Now what are you gonna do?” Amy teases, leans back so the chair sways back and forth, creaking against the hardwood floors of their apartment. Damn him for making her move in with him. “I mean you couldn’t even build it with instructions, so now-”

Dan holds up a finger, lifts both brows confidently. “I’m waiting for a moment of genius.”

“We don’t have all night.”

“You got a better idea, Mom of the Year?”

“Yeah. You could call the store, and they’d send someone out to do it.”

“It’s one in the fuckin’ morning. What kinda service do you think they’re providing, Amy? Fuck.”

“Not right now, you fuckwit.” Amy frowns, rolls her eyes and head back so she’s staring at the ceiling. How did that mark get- “I’ll call them first thing in the morning.”

“No.” He damn near cuts her off, walking over until he’s stood in front of her, resting both hands on the sides of the chair. “No, you won’t. Because I’m gonna get this thing done, even if it kills me.”

“Wow, you really don’t like sucking at stuff, do you?”

“Don’t act so surprised. You knew that already.”

“True.” She agrees, lowers her gaze to meet his, but she keeps her head titled back, hands running along the armrests of the chair, carefully avoiding touching his hands, “I don’t want you to overexert yourself to death, though. I mean, you didsay you’d help out with the kid. And you did promise that I could be the one to kill you when you’re ninety if you haven’t already died of natural causes.”

“Well, Amy, this is me helping out with the kid.”

She snorts back a laugh, “Really? Because it looks like this is just you trying to prove yourself. No need to compensate for anything, Dan. I’ve already seen your dick. It just about does the trick.”

“Just about?” He stands up straight, traces of a smirk beginning to form on his face.

Ah, yes. One of his three facial expressions. Disgust, confidence, terror. She likes imaging which face he’ll make when she gives birth.

Amy shoots him a look à la ‘Shut the fuck up and get on with it’. Looking up through long lashes, she notes how he hasn’t moved, is still towering over her. “Are you going to fucking build it or not, asshole?”

“Are you gonna fuck me if I do?”

“God, you’re a child.”

“No, Amy. I’m a man who would like some recognition for his hard work.”

Wait. Did he- That fuck weasel.

“Have you been screwing me this whole time?”

Dan smirks, wider than before, and he shrugs, nonchalant, “Maybe. That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I’m gonna ignore the fact that you’ve wasted over an hour of my life by pretending to be bad at something you can apparently do, because it was kind of fun to witness your would-be emasculation anyway. But, no. I’m not going to fuck you. Jesus Christ, you were just playing me like one of your little college bimbos.”

“Ames, you know I gave up sleeping with other women for you.” He tilts his head to the side, all proud and smug, like it’s a massive accomplishment. She wouldn’t believe him if it weren’t for the fact that she threatened to chop his dick off, and she knew just how much he treasured King Danny - God, that name - and he knew just how serious she was with her threat.

“But I still don’t wanna be upstaged by Catherine and her side-bitches.” His eyes crinkle then - is that a fucking smile? - and Amy can only frown. “I guess I just have more interest in getting our new bed up and ready instead.”

They don’t even have a new bed to build, so what the fuck is he getting it ready for-

“Oh, fuck, no.”

She pulls a face, shakes her head, stands up and goes to walk off all in the flash of a second - because fuck him - until his hand catches her elbow. It’s gentle, and she kind of hates him for it. Then again, she’s eight fucking months pregnant and he’s not a complete animal.

“Amy.”

“Fuck, Dan. I can’t believe you ever roped me into this in the first place.”

“Into fucking?”

“Into moving in with you, you goddamn unflushable turd.”

“You love it.” He smirks - because of course he does - and Amy hates herself for smiling back.

“I don’t love you, though.”

“You like me more than you like anybody else.” He reasons, steps closer until she’s flush against him, all bump and breasts. Fuck.

“Yeah, well, I’m the only person that you like, so-”

“Yeah. You are.”

It’s one o'clock in the fucking morning, which means they should be sleeping, not having a heart to heart. Or, well, a… discussion pertaining to matters of the heart had either of them possessed a heart?

“I do like you, Amy.” He grins, reaches for her chin.

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you love me.”

“Fuck you.” She steps back, wills herself to ignore his lingering gaze, “Build the fucking crib, asshole.”

“Are you going to bed?”

“Yeah. You’re not welcome to join.”

“After I build this fuckin’ IKEA piece of crap?”

She comes back into the room to pick up her abandoned phone, shoots him a brief look before spinning back around, knowingly letting his eyes dance along her back and ass, “If you can build it in the next twenty, no… ten minutes.”

“I can do it in five.”

Amy rolls her eyes down the hallway, waves a hand behind her, rests her free hand on her stomach, “Your dad’s a fucking moron.”

[littleangryhammy]

Jumper guy/ HamBurr drabble

So I did a thing... I saw a request done by another writer on tumblr( I can't remember who now) but I loved the concept so much I decided to do my own. It's probably so full of spelling and grammar mistakes IM SORRY I AM TRASH. And unfortunately I have no one to proof read for me. Please be gentle with me it's my first time posting any of my work. >< Also I'm planning on taking requests so if you have any fire then my way ☺️ Jumper guy Pairing: Alexander Hamilton/Aaron Burr Rating: T I hope you guys like it <3 Aaron flipped over another page in his book and wiped his brow with his sleeve, he sighed heavily before leaning into the cold breeze being created by a fan he had sat on his desk. Three frickin' days it had been like this, a heat wave was sweeping New York and showed no signs of letting up. Aaron had never been one to enjoy the heat, it was sweaty, sticky and made it almost impossible to have a full nights sleep. It was just all around uncomfortable and Aaron disliked uncomfortable. He felt another bead of sweat form on his brow and cursed, wiping it once more before undoing the top few buttons on his shirt. He cursed himself for not just staying home in his air conditioned apartment but he knew he couldn't. He owned and ran his own bookstore, and even though it had been quite the past few days Aaron just couldn't justify missing work because he was too hot, it seemed like a waste to do that, so he just bought himself a fan and kicked himself mentally for not having air conditioning installed in the store during the last heatwave. Aaron perked up as he heard the familiar sound of the bell above the door jingle as it opened and closed, he glanced at his watch and smiled as if like clock work jumper guy had arrived at exactly half past two. For months this man would turn up almost every day at the same time and he would stay for hours, usually sat crossed legged down one of the aisles, surrounded by small mountains of books, jotting down notes in an old journal of some sort. He had never spoken to the man, as jumper guy never even bothered to buy anything. That had annoyed Aaron at first but every time he attempted to confront him about this he found himself loosing his nerve. The more he observed him the more enthralled with the man he found himself becoming, just by watching him read. After two month of observing Aaron knew how his tongue would slightly stick out of the left side of his mouth when he concentrated, how sometimes he would quietly hum to himself as his eyes darted over the pages, how when he had read something particularly interesting he would get this excited gleam in his eyes and would rush to write it down. After two months He didn't have the heart to ask him to buy something or leave, he enjoyed watching him, it had become somewhat of a daily routine for Aaron. To say that Aaron had developed some kind of fondness for him was correct, in fact that fondness had spiralled down straight into a bit of a crush. He found himself now waiting for him to walk through the door, and everyday he would try to find a reason to talk to him, but even at the end of the day, exactly five minutes before Aaron started closing up a set alarm would sound on the mans phone. Aaron speculated this had been set because the man would get so caught up with what he was reading he lost all sense of time and his surrounding and he needed to be reminded when it was time to leave. Every night he would get up gather his things and put everything back exactly where he found it before scurrying out of the store without so much as a word. So Aaron couldn't even start conversation by saying the store was closing soon because he was long gone before he even took out the keys. Aaron had thought of everything but found all the ideas left something to be desired. They all seemed forced and too thought out. So he decided that if it was going to happen to just let it happen naturally. Aaron smiled as he took the sight of him in, and couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped his lips. The guy was in a jumper... again. This was why Aaron had nicknamed him jumper guy, because even during his awful heat the guy had an jumper on that was oversized to the point that the sleeves covered his finger tips and it hung slightly off of one shoulder. Aaron was starting to think the only thing in this guys wardrobe were huge jumpers. He had his hair tied up today Aaron noted, in a messy bun with strands of hair falling into his face. His glasses as usual sat on the bridge of his nose which seemed to have caught the sun a little bit judging by the light shade of pink that dusted across his cheeks and over his nose. Aaron internally groaned at how cute he looked like that, like he was blushing. Jumper guy nodded in his direction with a shy smile and Aaron gave a small wave, before the man disappeared down one of the aisles. Aaron sighed and relaxed glancing at the thermostat, he realised it was the hottest it had been since the heat wave started. He turned the fans power up to the highest setting and thought about getting himself a drink. He paused, That might be a good way to start a conversation, offer the man a drink! He pondered over this for a while, before with a quite "Fuck it" he quickly moved into the back of the store. He grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge, and hurried back, when he reappeared he saw that the man had already set up camp as usual on the floor and was already surrounded with at least ten books, all open at various chapters. Aaron looked down at the bottle in this hand and watched a drop of condensation run down his finger and drip on to the floor. It was now or never. Jumper guy had his head buried in a book, only lifting his head to glance at the other books that lay open on the floor around him or to jot something down in the usual old journal. Aaron signed and quickly mentally prepared himself before he made his way down the aisle, coming to a stop a few feet away from the piles of books surrounding the smaller man. He stood there for a few moments, then cleared his throat to catch his attention. Nothing. "Ah... excuse me?" He muttered, after waiting a few minutes and still not getting a response he repeated himself a little louder. Still nothing, Aaron sighed again and tried to regain his quickly depleting nerve, it was too much of an opportunity to miss, so he mentally vowed he wouldn't miss it. "Hey!" Jumper guys head shot up and he seemed startled, he stared up at him with a look of shock and confusion that Aaron couldn't help but snort at, he had a real deer in the headlights look. "Um....hi" He smiled sheepishly before closing the book in his hands slowly. "Oh! I guess you're wanting to know why I haven't bought anything yet... I'm sorry I'm a little broke at the moment I needed to study for this big essay I have to do but I don't have the books they recommend that we buy and your store has them and it's the only Bookstore that hasn't asked me to leave after a few days. If I buy something can I stay? I don't mind I can probably afford one, it's just I like your store and it isn't air conditioned which is so rare and pretty great considering-" "Hey" Aaron stopped him, for someone who had been so quite for the past few months he sure did like to talk. "Actually I was just going to offer you this." He held the water up for him to see. The guy glanced at the water then back to Aaron. "I actually brought coffee with me" he smiled, pulling out a flask from his bag. "But thank you for the offer" Aaron blinked once, then again, before he began quietly chuckling to himself which quickly turned into a hearty laugh that only increased by the bewildered look the other was giving him. "Hey what's so funny?! " the man scowled while his face flushed slightly. Aaron wiped the tears from his eyes. "Hot coffee?! Your drinking hot coffee?! And those jumpers! How are you coping in this heat with those!?" He managed to get out in between chuckles. He guy shook his head and slowly joined in with his laughing. "I grew up somewhere a lot hotter then here okay? You should see me in the winter, two jumpers at least! A coat, Hat, scalf, gloves, the works!" He grinned, Aaron liked his smile, he liked it a lot. They laughed together for a few more moments until it died down and Aaron sat, leaning against the opposite shelf. "Hey what's your name? I usually just call you jumper guy in my head" The guy snorted at that but stuck his hand out none the less. "Alexander, Alexander Hamilton." Aaron took Alexanders hand firmly, trying to ignore the sudden rush of tingling that shot up his arm at the contact. "Aaron Burr." There was a pause, a pause so long that he thought the other didn't hear him. Alexander didn't say anything, just stared at him intensely, Aaron opened his mouth to repeat his name when Alexander gasped and jumped up to his knees, gripping Aaron's hand with both of his own. "Wait are you shitting me? You're Aaron Burr?!" He gawked at him, smiling from eat to ear. "You're the guy who went to Princeton and graduated in two years! When I came here I read all about you! I was determined to do exactly what you did, you were like my hero! I thought so many times about what I would say if I ever met you and now your here! So how did you do it? How did you graduate so fast? Did you go into politics after? Why on earth do you work in a bookstore?? With your honours you could have walked into any job you liked! Wait, why are you are you in New York?! I'd heard you'd moved to England. Wait wait did you come back to go back into politics, or maybe law?! I can't believe I've finally met you and-" "Alexander" "Yes sir" "Talk less. Smile more" he instructed, giving Alexander a smile of his own. "But there's so much I need to know about you" he wined a blush appearing across his cheeks, blending into his sun burn. "I've admired you for years" he muttered his blush darkening at least three shades. Aaron was a little taken back, he had met people who were fans of him before but never to this extent. He looked adorable, his cheeks red, gripping on to his hand, looking so hopeful for him to tell him all about himself and for the second time that day Aaron thought "Fuck it". "Have dinner with me" ... ... "Wait what?" "Have dinner with me?" Aaron asked once more. "Like... a date?" Alexander squeaked, his blush darkening once again, Aaron was actually worried his whole head would pop if it darkened anymore. "Well... if you swing that way I guess, if not then just as friends would be fine, I think your interesting Alexander, I'd like to get to know you too". Aaron said softly, and ran a thumb gently over Alexanders. Aaron noticed Alex shiver under the touch. "I swing that way! Well I swing both but I mean, not that it matters but yeah I think a date might be, I mean would be nice. I don't have much money at the moment though so maybe somewhere not too fancy would be best, then next time we can go somewhere better, if there is a next time I mean we should probably see if the first date goes well first but-" Aaron cut off Alexander for the third time today. However this time he decided words what not be enough to stop him, this time he halted the other instantly by pressing his lips softly against his. Alexander tensed at first, to the point that Aaron was going to pull away and apologise, but just before he could Alexander melted into him all at once, his hands moving from his hand to snake up around Aaron's neck. The kiss was simple, nothing too heated but it sent bursts of what felt like electricity running through both of them that, when they eventually parted, left them both breathless and panting. They just stared at each other for a moment while they regained their composures. "Meet me here at eight?" Aaron asked, his eyes still a little glazed from the kiss. Alexander opened his mouth twice and nothing came out, until finally he just nodded frantically. "I'm... ah... gunna go change... I'll meet you here later" He said standing and tripping over the books around him before hurrying off down the aisle. "Hey, wait!" He called out but Alexander was gone. Aaron sighed, maybe he had come on too strong, maybe too quickly. He shook his head and tore his eyes away from the end of the aisle and began collecting the books Alexander had left behind. Aaron already started constructing the apology he would give to Alexander the next time he saw him, if he ever saw him again. He cursed himself for jumping the gun, and hoped that maybe if he was smart he could still salvage a date out of the situation. Aaron was bought out of his thoughts to the sound of hurried foot steps making their way down the aisle, Aaron glanced up only in time for two hand to grab his face before he was pulled into another kiss, this one a little more urgent then the last, the pressure fiercer and the sparks stronger. Aaron dropped the books in his hands and didn't even hear them hit the floor, he just wrapped his arms tightly around the smaller mans waist. Aaron pushed Alexander until his back hit the shelves and then covered his body with his own, not once breaking the kiss. Their mouths opened and tongues began to dance together, gingerly at first before becoming bolder until the little make out session was full of heat, with Alexander nipping gently at his bottom lip and Aaron growling deeply into the kiss. Aaron's hand buried itself in Alexanders hair while the other was firmly planted on Alexanders bottom pulling him as close as he could get him, after a few minutes and a little bit of dry humping the door bell jingled once again and Alexander pulled away from the kiss quickly, panting and blushing with even more stands of hair falling around his face. They couldn't help but chuckle at each other, then even more when an elderly lady began to peruse some near by books. "Alright... Eight. I'll see you then" he grinned and exited the store once more. Aaron chuckled and shook his head. He couldn't wipe the grin of his face. Not even when he asked he elderly lady if she needed any help. Thankfully she refused the help because Aaron mind was definitely elsewhere. He sat back down behind his desk, in front of his fan and slumped back into his chair. He had a date. It had been a while but he had a date! And Aaron could already tell... this one... would definitely be a handful.

[orangeyouglad8]

Oh You’ll Find Me Between (the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea) XXVI

Previously on Pirate!AU   I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI XII XIII XIV XV XVI XVII XVIII XIX XX XXI XXII XXIII XXIV

Days pass.

Turn to weeks. To months.

Lexa is a ghost.

The Steltrona is nowhere to be seen on the seas. Anywhere Clarke chooses, the familiar black ship stays out of sight.

It eats at Clarke.

Digs at her.

The feelings that fluttered around her belly begin to harden. Turn to stone.

She’s sure if she jumped overboard she’d sink down, down, down.

It would be fitting...

Lexa is her siren after all.

Xx

Bellamy dogs her.

They don’t take any jobs. They hide most of their new treasure and sail. Stopping from port to port to relax.

Get drunk.

Get laid.

He doesn’t try anything again. Never follows her onto land, but hovers just out past the break. Far enough away to be seen.

Clarke drinks.

And drinks.

And turns into her bed alone every night.

Wanting to soothe the ache but unable to see anyone else but Lexa below her when she closes her eyes.

They would have heard if something befell the Steltrona.

It would have spread like fire from ship to ship.

Lexa just…

Lexa just disappeared.

Xx

Clarke decides to head north, tired and bored and needing something to occupy her mind.

“Griff, we haven’t been up there since-”

“I know.” Clarke doesn’t let Octavia finish the thought.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. It will be a nice change of pace don’t you think?”

“Aye, Cap. We’ll set the course.”

“Thank you, Blake.”

Octavia shuffles her feet, turning to go, but looking back. “Do you want me to get Raven?”

“For what?”

Octavia rolls her eyes. “You’ve got that look in your eye, Griff.”

Clarke just huffs and settles back in her chair. Octavia stares at her for another moment before leaving, the dismissal clear.

Only an hour passes before Raven barges into her room.

“You should at least knock for propriety’s sake.”

Clarke is stewing.

“We both know I’ve never been very proper. Besides, the rest of the crew are all too scared or enamored with you to try any of this shit.” Raven sets a bottle of rum on the table with an expectant look at Clarke.

“What?” Clarke snaps.

“The Northern Isles? Clarke, you told me if you ever suggested it to sit you down and make sure you hadn’t lost your mind.”

“I know what I said, Reyes.”

Raven hardly flinches at her harsh tone.

“Just so we’re clear, what year was I born?”

“Cut the fucking shit.”

“Alright, alright.” She swigs from the bottle and passes it to Clarke. Clarke merely shakes her head, her stomach in knots.

“It’s been a while.”

“It has.”

“The pain will still be there.”

“I know.”

“Your mother…”

“Won’t know I’m around.”

Raven’s eyes go wide at her admission. “Then why are we doing this?”

Clarke glares, looks at the bottle and back at Raven but doesn’t say a word.

“Ah! This is about the Commander. I knew it.”

“Raven-”

“I should have seen it sooner. What’s it been? Almost three months?”

Clarke grits her teeth. Swallowing the words. Swallowing the feelings.

“Wow, you’ve really done it now, huh?”

“Done what?” She doesn’t hide the exhaustion, the ache.

“Given your heart away.” She inches closer to Clarke, empathy laced in her revelation. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”

She offers the bottle to Clarke again. Clarke accepts it, taking a long pull and feeling the burn slice at her throat as it flows to her belly.

“Nothing to soothe the hurt like some debauchery in the Northern Isles. You know, I actually think Jake would be proud.”

Clarke offers her a half smile. A throwaway, to ease the worry of her friend.

It doesn’t work, but they both pretend it does.

Xx

It happens when she least expects it.

When they least expect it.

Heavy cannon fire explodes out of the night sky just before they reach their destination.

It’s Roan.

Roan who comes like a thief in the night to spoil their plans.

It’s over before she knows it.

His crew boards her ship at record speed. The last thing she sees is a bag being thrown over her head.

The last thing she feels is the heavy butt of someone’s gun.

Xx

She wakes up alone.

The cell is dark and cold, moving beneath her.

Her head pounds and screams, causes nausea to bubble up her throat, spilling the nearly empty contents of her stomach onto the floor.

When she can breathe and calm down, she takes stock.

No other major injuries. She can feel a bruise on her chin, and an ache on her forehead, probably caused from when she fell while unconscious.

No weapons that she can feel.

Just a giant bump on her head and a hole in her pride.

He comes to see her.

She has no way to tell how much time has passed, slipping in and out of sleep. Lulled by the waves and the pain in her head.

He carries a torch and some food.

She spits at it.

“Finally caught up to me.”

He smirks, “Something like that. You should eat, Clarke.”

“Fuck off.”

He takes a bite, “It’s not poisoned. If I wanted to you dead, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Where’s my crew?”

“On the Ark.” His tone is smug, baiting.

“Which would be?”

“Where we left it.”

Clarke grits her teeth and doesn’t say another word. Doesn’t reach for the food. Doesn’t look up from the floor.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a lovely dining companion?” That smirk again. He waits. “Alright, if that’s how you want to play it.”

The door shuts behind him with a loud thud that echoes in Clarke’s ears and adds to the ache in her head.

Xx

They come to get her.

It’s been hours or days or weeks.

They come to get her and gag her mouth. Tie her hands roughly behind her back. Throw the bag back over her head.

Someone guides her.

Off the ship.

Onto shore.

Up stairs and down hallways.

The sounds of chatter perk up her ears, growing louder and louder with each step. She can hear large doors being opened, and a hush falling over the occupants of whatever room she’s in.

Someone shoves her down, rips the bag off her head.

A bright, blinding light floods her eyes and she turns her head away.

Roan begins talking, but she doesn’t hear him. Doesn’t understand what he’s saying. His voice gravelly and tired.

Someone steps closer to her.

This voice, this voice she knows.

It sets her on edge. Makes her stomach twist and turn.

“I told you to bring her to me unharmed,” Lexa bites.

“She didn’t come easy.” Clarke can hear the smile on Roan’s face. Her blood boils.

Her eyes have finally adjusted and she looks up. Drags her eyes up from the floor, up Lexa’s long legs. Her coat buttoned up and regal. The face devoid of eye black but set in stone.

Marble.

Her eyes revealing nothing.

She gestures for Roan to pick her up. “Untie her.”

“As you wish, Commander.” He makes quick work of the ropes around Clarke’s wrists. Clarke flexes her hands, aching to do something.

Aching to rid them of the familiar tingles.

It’s been months.

Months.

And her hardened feelings already begin to crack with one look at the figure before her.

“So, about our deal?” Roan pipes up again.

“We’ll talk about our deal once the issue with your mother has been handled.”

“Hey, that wasn’t what we-”

“If you wish you keep your tongue, Roan, it would be wise to stop talking.” Lexa cuts him off, everything about her wild.

Clarke feels him tense behind her.

“Leave us.” Lexa’s command leaves no room for argument.

Everyone else in the room files out. Clarke doesn’t look at them as they walk past her, too busy glaring at Lexa.

She knows they’re alone when Lexa’s shoulders fall and her posture relaxes. She looks straight up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath before locking eyes with Clarke.

“I’m sorry, Clarke.” Her words are fragile, her gaze soft and apologetic. She gingerly removes the gag from Clarke’s mouth, careful not to touch her skin.

Everything from her movements to her face is full of care, of compassion.

Clarke is having none of it.

“What the hell, Lexa? You had me kidnapped? By Roan?”

“It had to be this way, I had to make sure you didn’t fall into the hands of the Ice Queen.”

“Oh, what the fuck? This is a new low even for you, Commander.”  Clarke doesn’t try to hide the venom in her voice. Everything that’s been building inside of her for weeks begins swirling, spiraling.

“Clarke,” she takes a steadying breath. “Please.”

Her voice cracks and Clarke’s resolve falters.

“I haven’t seen you for weeks! Months! You disappeared into the night. I thought… I-”

“Clarke, I never meant,” she stops. “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes glaze over and it’s something Clarke’s never seen. Not with Lexa.

That’s when she knows, this isn’t anything Lexa would have planned. Is something that caught ever her off guard and unaware.

Clarke makes the decision then to listen.

“What happened?” Clarke moves into the room and pours herself some water from the pitcher at the center of the large table.

The large table with a wooden throne at the head and several smaller chairs placed around it.

“Nia.”

“I gathered that, what about Nia?” Clarke needs to hear it. Needs to know why she was kidnapped, why Lexa avoided her. Why the drama was needed. Needs another moment to recognize the switch in their conversation, in her own emotional state.

“She made a move against me.” Lexa looks hurt. Looks unsure.

Clarke’s anger fizzles, concern taking over.

“Why did you disappear?” It’s a whisper, but it feels charged.

Charged with what they had and the absence of it.

“War is brewing, Clarke.” There is steel in her spine when she admits it. “Shortly after I returned to Polis, Nia made her threats. They seemed as empty as they always do. I knew I needed to lie low, not travel. Not see you.”

She looks sheepish and her half smile alights on her face.

“I didn’t think it would be long before this round of baiting was over but she got to Titus.”

“Serves him right,” Clarke grumbles under her breath until she sees the pained expression on Lexa’s face. The way she works her jaw. She feels bad then, seeing how torn up Lexa is.

“Clarke, he knew everything.”

“Lexa, there’s no way he would have told her. If he thought I was a threat to you, there’s no way he would have cooperated with her, given up your secrets.”

“Clarke-” Her voice breaks again and she looks down. “He didn’t.”

Clarke moves forward, into her space. “Lexa, what aren’t you saying?”

The way Lexa looks at her with wide eyes glazed and fearful, shakes Clarke to the core, leaves her breathless. “He told her about you.”

Clarke doesn’t know how to respond. Can’t even begin to comprehend all of it, the kidnapping, the threats of the Ice Queen, the fact that Titus sold her out.

She can’t wrap her mind around it.

But mostly she cannot breathe with the way Lexa is looking at her like everything could fall apart any second.

“I only had a jump on her because of Roan. He came to me. Told me the plan. Offered to help me but make it look like he was still working with her.”

“What’s in it for him?”

“He’ll be made ruler of Azgeda when this is through.”

“Where’s my ship? My crew?”

“We left them in the Northern Isles. They are being cared for, don’t worry.”

“There had to have been an easier way. There are too many moving parts, what if Nia figures it out? What if she attacks my ship and I’m not there? What if this doesn’t work?” The questions come swiftly out of her, her anxiety about leaving her people behind spilling out.

Lexa crumples.

Like she can’t handle the weight of everything any longer.

Her breathing is heavy and she looks the way Clarke remembers.

Human.

Like Lexa.

It only takes a second before Clarke pulls her into her arms.

Her spirit calmed as soon as she has Lexa in her embrace.

“I’m sorry, Clarke. I’m so sorry… I couldn’t-I can’t go through that again. I couldn’t…” she starts breathing heavier struggling for air to fill her lungs.

It’s easy then, to think about Costia. About the pain Lexa went through, the scars she bears so heavily on her heart.

How she looked when she told Clarke everything.

And Clarke’s heart nearly splits when she remembers.

And she hears the things that still go unspoken between them. Feels them in between the vowels of Lexa’s pleas.

How she trembles.

And in that second it’s easy, so easy.

To forgive. To move on.

“I’m here, Lexa. I’m here. I’m here with you and I’m okay.”

Clarke holds her until she calms, until she can breathe deeply again. Lexa is warm and solid in her arms, against her chest.

“What’s a little kidnapping between friends, anyway?”

Lexa laughs into her neck and Clarke cracks a smile, rubbing her back.

“If there was any other way to get you here.”

“I’m sure there was, you just couldn’t think of it. And you didn’t have a lot of time to work with. We both know I’m the brains of the operation.”

Her laugh is even louder this time and she pulls herself off of Clarke to share a silly smile with her.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

Lexa’s lips are just as soft and full as she remembered, even more inviting after their separation. It’s tentative at first before Clarke sighs happily into it and feels Lexa relax and kiss back.

It’s short. Delicate.

Full of everything Clarke became addicted to.

“We need to plan.”

“But I just got here…”

Lexa smiles, and it’s the smile that does it.

That has Clarke kissing her again, claiming it for herself. Surrendering to how it tastes against her lips.

And this kiss is better. Solid. New.

It’s hello, I’ve missed you, I feel so much for you, all at once.