#i know there's a bug with the message/alert windows if you click through things too fast but idk what i did and i don't really care lol

[stergeon]

> FERDINAND II.

And so your PLANT shall henceforth be known as FERDINAND II.

The thought of needing to inform FERDINAND I of his having a namesake makes you a bit ill, but you are already hard at work devising several plausible excuses for the gesture. Something about how you've named it after the one most invested in its naming, or how it is similarly prone to drooling. Yes. Yes, you will be able to deflect quite easily, should the need arise. It has nothing to do with your fondness for FERDINAND or your desire for a substitute in his imminent absence, no—again, you are not so prone to sentimentality. It's about the drool.

Well, anyway. Best to move on with your day and think about something else, lest you grow maudlin or cultivate further affection for the PLANT. May the GODDESS be merciful and never cause you to develop inclinations that could be described as paternal.

Now that your plant has received sufficient care, it is time for COFFEE. You set to making your morning brew. By CHANCE, there happens to be sufficient water remaining in the kettle for FERDINAND I to have TEA, should he wish it.

Per your TIMEPIECE, it is now a quarter to eight. You have made excellent progress on your PRE-BREAKFAST TO-DO LIST thus far: the only remaining task is to remove FERDINAND. You are starting to get rather peckish and would like to be rid of him quickly, but over the past week, you have found that extracting the man from YOUR QUARTERS is a more arduous task than it ought to be.

#007 | << | <- | -> | JOURNAL | HOW TO PLAY | ALL POSTS

[velvetineblue]

the actions unfold in rapid succession; a blur of motion and sensation, the struggle to evade his strikes but keep a watchful eye at the same time.

this guy plays dirty. then again, Taiyang reasons, he probably should have known that when he used a toilet as his weapon of choice…

he didn't want to have to do this, not here, with club-patrons only feet away, but . . . the gun is poised with one eye shut, to line up a shot in sync with the jagged movements the fleeing man was making—

and with a fiery BANG, it goes off, pointed toward his shuffling feet, hoping to stop him from moving: to lodge a bullet into an ankle or an Achilles heel. but between the speed at which the target is moving, the shield the open door makes, and the body of the oblivious man blocking his line of sight ( all within just a few seconds ) — the shot seems to miss it's mark.

the sound of blaring pop music, the door flying open, and the bathroom-guy's shouts of confusion; it all seemed to drown out the sounds of the shot fired. nobody outside of the bathroom looked alarmed, anyway; they all carried on with their partying.

" shit, " the shooter curses, as the murderer escapes out the door. now that the man was outside of the confines of the bathroom, he wasn't just Taiyang's problem anymore. the leader sheathed the gun behind him again, and took out his phone, sending code-words to Quinn that only she would understand…

he grabbed the drunk man by the scruff of his shirt and drag-tossed him back to the other side of the door, ignoring his squirming, kicking protests. " get out, " gruff with distracted annoyance, he throws him towards the dance floor with no further explanation as to why the bathroom was off limits. but the LAST thing he needs is that idiot to become a witness to the crime scene the other man had left behind in the black cat bathroom. Taiyang locks the bathroom door behind him, and sent a second message to the staff while he walked forward, to make sure the door STAYS locked. he'd have to deal with the doctor trapped inside, later…

but for now, the blonde haired intruder was the bigger problem. it scurried toward an exit, like a rat looking for a hole to squeeze through . . . apparently, not knowing that every door in this place was trapped and bugged by it's owners. now that he'd raised their alarms, they wouldn't let him slip through their hands so easily. electronic locks had clicked into place, disabling each exit and window, and the staff were alerted: they were on a temporary lockdown. no-one came in or out without the leaders' permission. especially not minwoo.

with eyes full of icy determination, Taiyang boots echoed sound on the slick smooth dance floor, following behind Minwoo… " hey, blondie… " Minwoo's pursuer called, sing-song-y and predatory. but calmly, pretending anger wasn't boiling underneath the surface. ( anger at how he was making a scene; how audacious and disrespectful he'd been, in the way he'd carried out his killing. did this guy think he was some small-fry idiot, running a hackjob operation ? that he could kill Taiyang's own guest, on his own turf, then attack HIM, and get away with it? ) a smirk and a 'amused' huff of breath, as a laugh, escaped him. people on the dance floor moved out of their way without thinking much of it, not knowing that the subtle 'chase' was anything more than a game between two friends. " slow down; why are you rushing out the door all the sudden ? don't be shy... I got a special V.I.P. room set up just for you; it's got private bottle service and everything . . . just you, and me, and maybe Quinn, too. you're NOT gonna leave without checking it out, are you ? " now wouldn't that be so ungrateful and rude? it's not everyday someone gets an audience alone with the King and Queen of Black Fang !

“ I'm not interested in killing you, Taiyang Tseng. ” Nor was he interested in putting a bullet through the skull of his Queen. His mission was entirely based in doing a reconnaissance of the situation in Seoul's underground, to discover her beating heart, the players, the game. There was no specific target. Yet.

Lee's doctor was unfortunate collateral damage in a quest for information. Nothing more.

Minwoo wonders if his handler, a middle aged man with no family, no ties outside of the organisation, and very little in the way of humour, was still hanging around the assassins penthouse? Would he have an envelope with a fresh targets name in hand, expecting Minwoo's imminent return just to dispatch him once more? Or, had the assassin been left to fend for himself for a while, make his own choices, carve his own plan of action with the aim to report back to the Twelve with what they wanted.

The knock on the door does nothing to disturb his sharp focus, but Tai's break to respond gives him a moment of chaos to take action; jean clad knee strikes out at the others crotch, grip dropping from the gun as the assassin changes their positioning. He's willing to accept the hesitance in Tai's urge to kill him as nothing more than a opportunity, and uses it to his advantage.

A slick movement has the bathroom door unlocked and opened; the passionate, clearly drunk, obsessive knocker falling through the gap into the fray. There's a spin and quick shove to the falling body in the direction of Taiyang, aiming to use the drunk guy as a distraction for his imminent getaway.

Knowing that the Black Cat belonged to the other, Minwoo was almost certain he'd be hesitant at bringing a gun fight to the dance-floor, bullets spraying innocent dancers and partygoers didn't seem to fit Black Fang. The music is almost immediately deafening as he begins to head through the crowd, a similar bubble pop to what had been playing just minutes earlier blares through the speakers out to the crowd ahead ( all blissfully unaware of the disturbance )

[scarlettriot]

Stood Up

You (Y/N) get stood up from a date and Kaminari decides to do something about it.

Pairing: Kaminari/F!Reader

Contains: Fluff, Flirty Denki, Established BakuSquad Friendship

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Electro-Stim, Overstimulation, use of pet names (cuddle bug & cutie), oral (F receiving), consensual recording

A/N: Well, here we are with the third in my Stood Up series. There is also Bakugo & Kirishima if you're interested. This one took me way too long and it's also my first time writing Kaminari at length. I hope you all like it :)

Word Count Starting Below: 2,461

You slipped your foot into the silver heels you had picked out. Something a little fancier since this was a first date after all and you wanted to make a lasting impression. Not only that but this was your first first date in a while. Being a Pro Hero made life busy and dating difficult.

Practically the entire day leading up to this very moment revolved around you either getting ready or babbling with excitement to your closest friends.

An alert chimed on your phone with a text from your date, a smile sliding onto your face expecting to read some message about how they were on their way and that they'd see you soon, but that wasn't what you were met with.

Instead, it was a screenshot of your Instagram page, multiple of them actually, all of you and the ridiculous photos you took with your friends but mostly with one Denki Kaminari. The most recent of which was from a tea shop he met you at just earlier that day so you could show him the shoes for your date.

The message below was simple and more than enough to leave a sour taste in your mouth, this isn't what I want to see when I'm supposed to be taking you out tonight. What, one date a day isn't enough? Why are you even dating? Does your blonde boyfriend know?

You giggled at what they were implying, quick to explain how these were all your friends, they had been since high school! They are people you spent what little free time you had with. Especially Denki, your best friend since you were 15!

That joy you felt started dissipating within the next few messages. You hadn't even had a first date and they were already jealous, and that was something you didn't have room for in your life. So, you slipped the heels off your feet and put them directly back in the box to return when you had the time. Tight black jeans and fitted top were exchanged with a hoodie and sweats although your makeup and hair stayed done, you didn't have the energy to undo your hard work.

Instead, you slid back into your computer chair, your headset snuggly back on your ears and before you notified everyone you were back online, you took a moment listening to the chatter of your friends.

"Shitty Hair! Fuckin' pay attention!"

"Yeah, man! We're getting slaughtered over here!"

"Less yelling at Kiri! More shooty shooty!"

"All of you are hopeless..."

Eijiro chuckled out an apology that was accompanied by a lighter giggle also coming from his mic. "Think this is gonna be my last round for a bit, guys."

"You're so fuckin' whipped." Bakugo scoffed, before screaming profanities.

"Is it whipped if I'm the one who's wanting to get her into bed though?"

You clicked your mic back on then. "Hey, remember last week when Kats forgot his push to talk so we all heard him getting head and we party whipped because someone couldn't focus?"

"You better shut the hell up right fucking now!"

Everyone else roared with laughter. "Yeah! At least I have the decency to mute myself!"

"Hey, wait a sec, why are you online, Y/N!" Denki noted, "You should have already left!"

You screenshot your messages to the group chat because it was far easier than just explaining the ordeal.

"Cute shoes." Eijiro and Kyoka commented at the same time.

There was a lull as their game ended and the messages were read.

"Ya don't need 'em if they're gonna have their head so far up their ass like this."

"I agree." Hanta chimed in. "They're not worth your time."

"Still, sorry they turned out to be a shit." You could hear the frown on Kyoka's face, "I know how excited you were."

"Right, you doin' okay, Y/N? I can stick around and we can all shoot some things!"

"Thanks, Kiri but I'll be just fine! Go spend time with your girl!"

One by one, everyone signed off. You pulled up Spotify and Stardew Valley, something of a comfort for you to get lost in for the rest of the night.

Less than an hour later, you noticed your phone lighting up with your best friend's familiar smiling face. "What's up, Denki?"

"Open your door! I have my hands full and don't wanna put everything down to get my key!"

You sprang from your desk and rushed to your door. Sure enough, on the other side was Denki with bags in both hands and his phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. You grabbed it and a bag before he had a chance to drop anything like the klutz he was. "What's with all this?"

"I feel bad."

"Why? You didn't stand me up?"

He fiddled with the edge of a paper bag. "Yeah, but, we both read those messages and no one said anything but they didn't just call our group out, they called us out.

"Denks, it doesn't matter to me-"

"But, it does to me! You were so excited about this and I got in the way, unknowingly but, still! So, I gotta make it up to you now!"

He pulled out take-out boxes from your favorite restaurant. Two bottles of your favorite wine. Your top three favorite movies and video games, and a board game you both had been meaning to try. "I mean, if they think I'm your boyfriend I kinda gotta live up to the hype, right?"

You really wanted to insist that none of this was necessary. That just because some person that neither of you really knew that well, assumed something about your relationship that didn't mean he had to blame himself for it.

But, you had to admit, this was really sweet. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to you that he knew everything you liked but it was nice. Instead of sitting across from a stranger, making awkward small talk, and trying to learn about one another, you were barefoot in your kitchen, laughing with your best friend while he plated dinner and you poured the wine.

Formalities were out the window. Both you and Denki were eating dinner in your living room, laughing and drinking just as you'd done a million times before. You snapped a photo of the delicious food on paper plates, toasting good times with your cheap wine, ready to post them to your Instagram.

"Gonna make them more jealous..."

"I think they made it pretty clear they don't want to see me so why should I care?"

He shrugged. "I just thought they might, you know, come to their senses that they obviously lost."

"I don't really care either way." You wandered back into your kitchen, putting away the leftovers, "They can forget I exist or they can stalk my page like a creep. If someones' gonna try and tell me I can't be friends with my friends or just not listen to me, then I don't want them in my life. No matter how good-looking they are."

Denki watched you from the sofa, a bit of a lopsided grin on his face that had butterflies taking flight in your stomach. "What?" Laughing to hide the bit of a crush you always had on the man. It was unavoidable you told yourself. His personality was infectious and had 15 year old you head over heels.

He pushed back bright blonde hair back off his forehead and just shook his head. "Nothin'. Uh, what's next? Video game, board game, or movie?"

You peaked on the counter at the options. "Well, we probably should have checked this but the board game needs at least four people to play... guess we'll have to save that for our next game night. Is a movie okay?"

Of course, it was.

You brought over the DVD with a refill of wine and he pulled a blanket down off the back of your sofa.

It really didn't take long, just fifteen minutes or so, and you were curled up into Denki's side. You'd make grabby hands for your wine glass and he'd pass it over with that damn grin again.

And not long after that, he'd pulled out his phone, angling it to take a picture of the two of you. "What are you doing?" You could see him on his own Instagram, tagging you, with the caption, Check out my cute cuddle bug.

"I thought you didn't want to make them more jealous."

"I decided I don't care either. You're mine tonight, their loss. And since you're mine tonight, I get bragging rights." He snapped another quick picture of you rolling your eyes at him, and then he kept snapping them.

"Denki! Why!"

"Because you're cute, cuddle bug! I like having all the pictures of you that I can!"

Even as you tackled him back down on the sofa, pinning him below you, he still managed a photo. "Bet if I post this one, they'll really get the wrong idea."

You could have moved. You were the one on top of him and you had his arms above his head. You had the power here and yet you just lingered above him.

"Y/N? Not that I'm one to complain about having a beautiful person such as yourself pinning me down, like, it's kinda hot, but..." Looking down into half-lidded golden eyes, you wondered why you had to become best friends with such a damn flirt! "Are you gonna take advantage of this situation we're in or are we just gonna keep dancing around this for another decade or so?"

You couldn't have heard him right? No... no this was your brain playing tricks on you because he certainly hadn't had that much wine tonight. You sat upright on his lap. "Another decade then, Y/N?"

"You- ha- you should stop that, Denki."

He leaned up, moving his arms around you, "Gimme a good reason to and I will."

You didn't have one. And not just because you've been in love with him for ten years but also because he was your best friend. The only reason to not go through with it was the possibility of losing your friendship if something bad were to happen but, you really didn't think anything would.

Denki might have been a serial flirt but he was surprisingly loyal in all the relationships he'd been in, not that there had been all that many serious ones.

"I'm not hearing anything." He teased, his face getting closer to yours. You could count each and every one of the faint freckles that littered the balls of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. "But, I promise, if you tell me no, I'll stop, won't push this any further."

This whole thing seemed like a frickin' whirlwind, happening faster than your brain could really process the situation but you didn't want it to stop either. You wanted to take it further, didn't want to say no.

Which was why you coiled your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. There was that small little buzz of electricity that tickled your lips when he'd kiss your nose or cheeks that was now playing on his lips, on his tongue when you welcomed him in.

He leaned back again, pulling you with him until you were both a pile of needy hands and breathy pleas. Everywhere his hands roamed you felt that faint trail of shock against your skin, making the little hairs on your body stand on end.

Clothes were shed, tossed haphazardly around your living room, both of you pausing to laugh when Denki managed to land your hoodie over a lamp. His attention was drawn back to you quickly though, still perched on top of him but now he had your chest on full display since you'd forgone a bra when your date canceled.

Electrifying tongue twirled around your nipples, sensitive normally, now it felt like you knew what it was like when he fried his damn brain. He was eager, relentless even, pulling and sucking, another hand giving your other breast a similar treatment. He had you so focused that you let out a broken moan when slender fingers found their way into your panties.

"Fuckin' hell, Denki."

The bastard winked up at you, nipple still between his lips and before you could retort, he sent another small jolt through you.

You were blatantly grinding down on his hand, reaching behind you, you found him completely solid, barely being contained in the tight black boxers he wore. You had enough sense to tug them down and wrap your hand around him making his teeth sink into your soft flesh, whining when you stroked him.

"Y/N..." He whimpered, his hand momentarily distracted from his ministrations gave you enough time to shift in his lap to scoot forward putting his cock in front of you. In one swift motion, you had his length between your slick. "Oh fuck, cutie!" Golden eyes were squeezed shut while you moved along him, feeling that pleasant curve he had, you could only imagine what it was gonna be like to have him inside you.

"You're being a little tease, ma-makes me wanna do all sorts of things to y-you."

He was kissing your neck, your chest, shoulders, and arms, anywhere on you that he could reach. His hips bucking up into you, just trying to hit that perfect angle.

Strength and agility were something most overlooked when it came to Denki Kaminari but when the man wanted something bad enough, he found a way to get it.

He had your ass rising up in the air with a harsh thrust of his hips and a small squeak from you, giving him exactly enough time to scoot down on the sofa so you were sat atop his face. If you complained, he didn't hear you. Denki already had your thighs around his head and his tongue devouring you completely.

Little shockwaves rocked you while you cried out his name, hands fisting blonde locks just trying to stay upright.

One orgasm from you apparently wasn't enough, neither was two but on the third, Denki finally relented, allowing your heartrate to come back down and your gasping breaths to come in more steadily.

You slid back down his body, his erection now smack against your ass. His hair was recked, face completely flush but he had the biggest grin on his face that you'd ever seen.

Denki kissed both your cheeks, "You are so amazing, cutie!" Kissed your lips, "You taste better than anything I've ever had!" And one more on the tip of your nose. "Doin' okay?"

You nodded, starting to really gather yourself again, and by this point, you really just wanted one thing.

"I wanna... Denks... can I take care of you now?"

"Sure, cutie! How do you want me?" The wiggling eyebrows had you rolling your eyes and pushing him on his back again.

It took little effort for you to position yourself above his cock, and with how slick you were, his bright pink head slipped right inside. He held your hands while you scrunched up your face, sliding all the way down him until he was completely sheathed within.

The curve was immaculate. Hitting in just the right way that had you moaning with just a couple thrusts from him. Before long, you were eagerly bouncing on his cock. Riding him hard so he filled you up each and every time.

You barely registered him reaching for the coffee table, his phone now in his hands. "What're you doin'?" You practically slurred, slowing only slightly. He tapped the camera lens with a wicked grin. "Seriously?"

"We could make 'em really jealous now..."

Somewhere in your brain, you knew your date wouldn't give two shits, in fact, this probably would have only validated their thoughts about your's and Denki's relationship but with his cock stuffed so deeply into you, kissing your cervix in the most beautiful way, you really didn't give a damn.

You and Denki put on the best possible show you could think of. You were overstimulated, sore, and completely elated! He balanced the phone against the wine bottle so neither of you had to try to hold it.

This way he could play with your breasts or squeeze your thighs while you dug half-moons into his chest. Shocked with the playful zaps he sent right to your core.

Your makeup you'd didn't feel like taking off now ran down your cheeks with tears. Your hair was a mess thanks to him pulling at it.

Denki had you howling through another two orgasms, telling you how perfect you were, how nice you felt squeezing him so tightly, your nails felt so good against his skin.

It was only when you collapsed against his chest did he hoist your hips up so he could ram into you, pulling out just at the last second with a strangled cry of your name.

He wiggled himself free, grabbing a towel from your bathroom and cleaning you both up before stopping the recording.

"You're, hey you're gonna send that to me right?" You asked when he handed back your hoodie off the lamp.

He dropped a kiss on your lips, plopping down beside you on the sofa again and you noticed your email already up and the video uploading. "Obviously, we share all our videos and photos. Why would this be different?"

[moxfirefly]

80. "Does he know about the baby?" For Donnie, please 😄💜💜

This wasn’t a very honorable move, was all Donatello could hear bouncing in his brain.

The ungodly echo sounded a lot like Leonardo too to boot.

It had been innocent, surely a Murphy’s Law scenario. He would never do this on his own, in fact this was a downright unfathomable scenario that Donnie would’ve never chosen to act as he did.

-Does he know about the baby?

The bold text message had flashed right on his work desk where his girlfriend had left her device on. Honestly Donnie’s eyes had scanned the device nonchalantly. He had only gone bug eyed because the simple text message, from your best friend, had really made him do a double take.

He had sat there in a stupor.

A baby?

A child?

Surely the two of you’s relationship was fairly new. There was still things to get to know about one another.

But how in the ever loving Darwin’s fuck had she neglected to mention a child?!

A whole ass human baby?!

“So are you feeling Mexican or Korean? I could literally kill for a ramen” Y/n had returned from the bathroom, hand already reaching for the her phone. The message seemed to go ignored in favor of her pulling up the postmates app.

“Um, well, whatever you’re in the mood for is fine love” Donnie wanted to ask, god he really wanted to ask but how could he bring up such sensitive information? What if you got mad that he had merely glanced at your phone by accident!

“You ok there professor?” You grinned, knowing how he enjoyed the nickname. Donnie shook himself and opted to smile back at you.

But the feeling persisted nevertheless.

______________

“I gotta talk to you” Y/n spoke timidly as the two of you sat in the garbage truck.

Donnie was doing the gentlemen deed of driving you home safely since it was late.

He felt his udon noodles rise up suddenly.

Donnie kept his gaze on the road but spared a glance at her. “Sure, shoot” Welp here it comes, he couldn’t help but think to himself.

“So, I had this ex I dated briefly” You looked out the window as the pedestrians walked by unaware of the residents in the truck. “He, well he turned out to be a dick it’s ancient history but he tried hurting someone I care about a lot and that was a big no for me” Donnie was at a stop light right now, he gave you a worried look.

“This little guy... he means the world to me Don” You took out your phone and scrolled. Assuming a picture was being looked up.

Donnie swallowed, well here it comes...

“His name is Vlad” You presented the phone to him.

Two thoughts went through Donnie’s brilliant mind.

1. That’s an odd name for a child but perhaps you had European family?

2. Why were you showing him a picture of a black cat?

The honking behind him pulled him from his haze. He made a left turned and found a spot to stop and assessed the situation.

“Wait, Vlad? You don’t have an actually baby?” Donnie’s stupefied glance made you chuckle. “He is my baby, I’ve had this little dude for 8 years now” Your voice was cracking up in laughter.

“You thought I had a kid? Like a human baby?” Now you couldn’t hold back the laughter. Donnie was still blinking, his brain had really short circuited. Your laugh was on full wheez mode by now, a few snorts escaping. That in itself caused Donnie to snort and start laughing along with you.

________________

The apartment lit up around the time that Donnie got to the fire escape. The click of the window lock being disengaged alerting him that he could enter. Y/n had already turned most of the lights on and was making her way to the bedroom. Donnie couldn’t help but blush, he had thought about that room quite often but they were nowhere near that conversation for now.

“So Donatello, I would like you to formally meet my son” Your giggles lit up your face in a way that Donnie couldn’t help but smile at. In your arms was a slinky and dark as night cat. The sounds of purring were loud and reminded him of a motor.

Y/n approached closer, the purring black mass in arms. “Vlad this is Donnie, Donnie this is Vlad” She scratched his chin, the felines big yellow eyes closing in contended joy. The large terrapin extended his hand in offering for the cat to smell, it’s wet little snout sniffing up a storm.

A minute of silence passed. Donnie hoping the cat wouldn’t outright neglect him resulting in his young romantic adventures perishing.

“He likes you, he usually hisses when he’s got a bad read of the person” Vlad soon was snuggling his cheek against Donnie’s large finger. “I guess I’m good people then? I don’t mean to sound rude but why was this such a big deal?” Donnie soon found himself scratching a furry chin.

“The guy I dated after my ex, he hated cats like it was a huge deal breaker for him and he basically told me if we were gonna be serious about one another I had to give Vlad away” Her eyes were solemn, voice filled with sadness. “He’s my best friend, I can’t do that to him, my ex boyfriend was mean to him always scaring him on purpose... I saw him kick Vlad one day and that was the last straw” Her eyes went wide when Donnie grabbed the cat and gently placed him in his arms.

“Hey there Vlad, I really really like your mom” Donnie cooed as the feline reached up to playfully grab at his hand. “You seem to like me and trust me, like you already too” You watched fascinated as the two played. “Mind if I continue to date her?” He looked at you when he asked the question, that sweet smile that won you over present on his handsome face.

“Knew you were special from day one” You leaned against his arm and continued to watch the two be playful with one another.

Well, Donnie always fancied himself a cat person anyways.

[littlesliceofmarvel]

Nightly Visitor

Request/Synopsis: Peter comes by to visit you every night as Spider-Man before he goes on his nightly hero protective patrol.

Warnings: Utter, extreme fluff & a brief mention of sex & one swear word

Pairings: Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: This wasn’t requested but... I had an idea for this, so enjoy! No FFH spoilers! Gif ain’t mine, and inbox is always open! x

No matter how many times you refreshed your Instagram feed, nothing could make the time go faster as you sat in your room, your window slightly ajar, and the clock flashing 7:34 pm. 

You rolled your eyes, throwing your phone down on your bed, wishing there was a way you could make it 8:00 so Peter could pop by before heading out for the night. It was a routine of yours, and even though you knew it was going to happen every night, you couldn’t wait for him to sneak in quickly.

You had been dating Peter for well over a year, but you’ve know about his Spider-Man secret for way longer than that. As soon as he mention the Stark Internship to you in school, you knew. It was like your spidey sense went off, and you confronted Peter about it right away. Then, Ned found out and the two of you did everything you could to prevent the word from getting out, helping Peter hide his identity.

You looked over to your phone, picking it up once again, seeing a text from Peter, making your heart do a flip as you unlocked your phone to read it.

Bug-Man - hey baby, i’m on my way over early, i missed you. 

You smiled to yourself, clutching your phone against your chest, throwing yourself back down on the bed. There was no point in answering, it only took him a solid minute to swing over to your place from his, and with your window already open, he was probably going to just let himself in.

And he did.

“Your knight in shining armour is here to save you,” Peter’s voice broke you from your daze as you opened your eyes, seeing him climbing in through your window in his suit, crawling his way up to your ceiling as you smiled at him, still laying down in your bed.

“Oh, goodie, I was in need of saving,” you grinned, watching him crawl over to the point where he was right above you, gently lowering himself head first so he was almost face to face with you, a couple inches away. He peeled the mask off of his face, his brown hair sticking out in all sorts of directions, making you giggle as you sat up slightly.

“Well, then good thing I’m here,” he smirked, dipping his head slightly to meet his lips with yours, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt his mouth move slowly against yours. You could feel the passion and the love he was pouring into the kiss, and you poured those feelings right back, lifting your hand up to his hair as he deepened the kiss, pulling your head closer. 

You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling away slightly, causing him to let out a small moan, “Aw, c’mon, baby, that’s not fair,” he pouted, lowering himself further so he could let go of the web, dropping onto your bed and sitting up right, making you bounce slightly because of the impact of his body on the mattress.

You giggled, running your hand through his hair again, his brown eyes locked with yours, “I didn’t do anything,” you shrugged innocently, and he raised his eyebrows at you.

“Don’t play me like that, Y/N, it’s going to be hard to concentrate on being a hero and all when I’m flustered,” he pulled you up so you were sitting up with him, practically on his lap.

“Well, guess next time you should stop by even earlier so we can do something quickly before you go,” you smirked, placing a light kiss on his lips.

He nodded eagerly, “Deal.”

You let out a small chuckle, placing a kiss on his cheek before getting off of his lap, pulling him down to lay next to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his body, the Spider-Man suit producing a comfortable amount of heat under your skin.

“How was your day at the uh... Stark Internship?” You smirked, placing a light kiss on his shoulder.

He smiled, “Good, Mr Stark is working on a new suit for me, so I’m excited. How was your day?”

You looked up at him as he ran a hand through your hair, “It was alright, I uh... binge-watched Stranger Things, so that was fun,” you laughed slightly, the difference between your life and Peter’s life sometimes being a little extreme. Peter laughed too, his eyes scanning over your face, taking in your features as you smiled.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, making you forget what the two of you were just talking about. You stared at him, slightly surprised by the comment. Peter wasn’t usually one for PDA or compliments when the two of you were out or around your friends, so during the little private moments, he took all the chances he could to make you smile, and you loved it. So did he.

You felt your cheeks heat up but you played it off, giving him a shy smile, “You’re pretty beautiful, too.” 

He grinned, shaking his head at you as he pulled you down, connecting your lips once again. You felt yourself melt into the kiss, his hand on the back of your head to make sure you didn’t tease and pull away this time. 

“I love you,” he mumbled against your lips.

“I love you too,” you replied in between kisses. 

You almost jumped out of your skin when Peter’s phone went off, his ringtone at full volume. You pulled away immediately as he lifted his phone, clicking decline call without hesitating.

“You’re not going to answer?” You raised an eyebrow at him. Peter was rarely a person to ignore his phone, even when the two of you were being intimate. It was one of his worst habits, really, so the fact that he hung up so willingly surprised you.

He threw his head back on the bed, eyes closed, “It’s just Mr Stark, he’s going to text me, though, right about.... now,” as he said ‘now’ his phone buzzed, alerting him he had a text message. You raised your eyebrows, impressed by his intuition. He opened it up, reading it over quickly before his eyes widened. 

“Oh, shit, I gotta go, Stark needs me now,” he put his phone in his suit, getting up off your bed. Your heart sank as he approached your window, knowing he was taking off for the night. You always worried, no matter how much he assured you he was fine. There wasn’t a single part of you that doubted his capability to handle himself, but it was instinct. You were always worried.

“Alright, be safe,” you got up off your bed and walked over to him, letting him pull you close and place another loving kiss to your lips, your legs feeling slightly weak at how tingly the feeling of his lips made you.

“I love you,” he pulled away, a small pout on his lips, “I don’t wanna leave you.”

You smiled softly, handing him his mask that he left on your bed, “You gotta go kick ass. Save the city, you hottie.”

He chuckled, taking it from you and putting it on, hopping out of your window and onto the fire escape, “Alright, alright, I love you.” You really couldn’t deny how good he looked in his suit, it fit his body perfectly and he always loved to show you all the new gadgets it could do. And the fact that the man that you call your boyfriend is one of the world’s most famous superheroes, practically even an Avenger - that was still insane to you. You were so proud of him.

You grinned, “I love you too, so much.” 

Even though the mask was on, you knew he was smiling as he took off down the block, swinging from building to building, and into the night.

[davidshairline]

Super-Bloom

(Matt King imagine)

Request: “fluff matt king related! ill take anything” from anon.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Cuteness!!! (Kinda an emotional rollercoaster so I apologize in advance! I got carried away!)

A/N: This is my first imagine so please feel free to send me feedback and more requests!

“Y/n…y/n?” You hear your boyfriend say warmly to you over the music in the car he’s driving you in. You guys have been on the road for three hours now, and as much as you wanted to continue your many wholesome conversations, the soft bass from his music, the smell of his cologne, and the views of the sun peaking over the mountains resulted in you drifting off in a deep sleep after about an hour of travelling.

The only thing on your mind was how magical his stories have been of him seeing the super-bloom when he was a little boy. The thought of little Matt running around through the flowers warmed your heart.

You flutter your eyes open at the bright sun in your direction.

“Hmm?” You hum while exhaling out of your nose, stretching.

“Hey sleepy-head,” he smiles at you. “Just wanted you to know that we’re about ten minutes away. This is the best view of the flowers so I wanted to ask if you could take some shots of this overview on my camera since I’m driving. I would myself but we reached the part of the road where it’s curvy lanes and all that. I don’t want to take any chances with your safety.”

“You don’t even have to ask, babe. Where’s your camera?”

“In my camera bag in the backseat. Oh! And can you get me an apple from the snack bag? Pretty please?”

“Of course, baby.” You giggle at him as he grabs your hand and places a soft kiss on your

knuckles.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and reach across the backseat to the snack bag to get the apple. You extend your arm to the front of the car as Matt grabs it from your hand.

“You know what I realized?” He says, taking a huge bite out of the apple.

“What’s that?”

“We’ll be together for five months tomorrow. Wow. It went by so fast!”

“Time flies when you play the same song in the car for three hours!” You plop in the passenger seat smiling lovingly, yet sinisterly at him.

“Wow! You know it’s my favourite song! Just take the picture while I listen to my jam!” He playfully whines as he turns the volume louder, blasting music in the car.

“Don’t worry! The pain starts feeling good after like ten seconds, babe!” He adds, talking about the bass rumbling your eardrums. He’s not wrong. Everything just felt right with him.

You roll the window all the way down and turn your body away from Matt, looking down the mountain at the town of Anza-Borrego. You take three pictures of the town below you, the colours of the flowers bright and alive. You close your eyes, feeling the warm wind against your skin.

“YOU SEE YOU’RE A GYPSY!” You hear Matt scream at the top of his lungs to the same song he’s been playing over and over again all morning.

You open your eyes in alert as you almost jump out of your seat.

You shift your body towards Matt and see him tapping his hands on the steering wheel to the beat of “Gypsy” by Fleetwood Mac.

You could tell that three and a half hours of this song isn’t the longest duration that he’s played this song on repeat. He’s so cute when he’s in his element. You snap a picture of your boyfriend of almost five months and start beaming at him.

He gently smiles at you immediately after he hears the click of the camera that’s facing his direction.

“Did you get my good side?” He says, playfully.

“One of the many, babe.” You reassuringly comment.

He grins even harder, causing his face to turn bright red.

After making it past the traffic of tourists, you see mountains and mountains of yellow flowers. All around are families and couples taking pictures and frolicking through the endless bushes of flowers, but you and your boyfriend found a quiet, secluded spot that’s sectioned off for camp trailers, tents, and overnight visits.

“Okay y/n,” Matt says pulling over, “what do you think?”

“Of this spot to set up our tent? Or in general?” You reply, teasingly.

“Both!”

He’s so excited to be here, you can easily tell. He’s beaming so much that his face turns into a bright tomato red colour. Matt’s been talking about taking you here since you guys went on your first date after matching on tinder. He knew that he would take you one day. And here you are.

“Babe, it’s beautiful here! It’s amazing, just like you said!”

He smiles that precious smile you know so well. You smile back at him.

“Okay so I think we should pitch the tent up, then get the sleeping bags and all of that, make sure everything’s set up for tonight, and then we can have our picnic. Sound good?”

You nod your head at him in approval. Matt’s always been one to plan ahead of time so he knows what he’s putting his energy into. He hates change, especially when it isn’t in his control. But you loved it. He was the steady lake to your ripples.

You turn around and see Matt already struggling to get everything he crammed into the car out onto the ground.

“Matt, it’s okay! Let me help you.” You reassure him.

“I just want everything to be perfect for you. I want you to have an amazing experience here without any worries, you know?” He whines.

You place your hands on his cheeks and place a gentle kiss on his soft, yet tense lips.

“Everything is perfect babe. Don’t even worry, m’kay?”

He nods at you, his eyes less worried than they were seconds before.

The two of you set up the tent under a shady tree, away from the intensity of the sun since mat gets horribly sunburned fairly easy.

You told your boyfriend he should stay in the shade and get lunch ready while you go back to the car to get everything you both needed. Thankfully, he agreed to prepare his favourite meal for you guys to enjoy.

Your stroll back to the car seemed like it was hours long, when in reality it was two minutes. The heat from the sun provided this warm, calming feeling on your skin. And the breeze from the wind was just right to view all of the flowers and trees swaying left to right all around you. The sky is a pure baby blue. Everything perfect.

You open the back door and grab your sleeping bags along with extra sets of clothes for tomorrow.

As you’re about to close the door and walk back, you head a hard buzzing coming from Matt’s phone.

You remember him telling you that his mom wanted pictures of the trip so you grab the phone to take it too him.

The phone buzzes again and you can’t help but see :

MESSAGES

Daddy Zane

“yo did you tell y/n yet or nahhhh??”

“Um tell me what?!” You think to yourself. What could Zane know that you don’t?

The walk back to Matt felt like an eternity. An anxiety-filled eternity. The moment he saw you he knew something was wrong.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?” The worry in his voice made your hands sweat even more.

“Nothing babe,” you lie. “I’m just upset because I forgot my bug spray.”

“Oh no! I think I might have some in my bag.” He searches the backpack you had just brought from the car. “Ah-ha! Here it is, my darlin’!” He waves the repellant in your face like a magic wand.

“Uh…Thanks, babe.”

“Okay so I made my favourite lunch to eat here! My mom made it for my brother and I when we were little boys.”

He busts out watermelon cubes for an appetizer, his famous pasta salad as an entrée, and homemade rice crispy treats for dessert. It was so cute how nostalgic everything he did on this trip was. But what was Zane referring to in that text?

After a long lunch and great conversations about your families and funny holiday and childhood pet stories, it got darker. Time flew by so fast, it was scary but it also felt safe. Everything feels safe for you when Matt’s around.

“Yay! The sun’s going down! Do you want to watch the sunset and play go-fish?” He playfully asks.

“Duh! I’m going to beat you at this game, King! You’re going to wish you forgot your deck of cards at home!” You start to crease your forehead and making the “I’m watching you” gesture with your fingers.

“By the sound of your voice, I kind of already am!” He busts out laughing at your confidence.

One intense round of “Go-Fish” later, and it’s dark enough to see some stars peeking from the

light-to-dark sky.

“Wow.” You say, looking up.

“I know…” Matt says observing your face.

You lay on your back on top of the blanket Matt’s mom knitted years ago for him. He eventually lays next to you, extending his arm out for you to rest your head on top for support.

The beating of his heart against your ear is all you can hear. He isn’t saying anything, but he doesn’t need to. Him laying down with you is all you could ever want at this moment.

You hear his phone buzz again from the inside of his pocket, making you lose the tranquil feeling you had seconds before.

“Who is it?” You ask as he fumbles to get his phone to silence it.

“It’s just Zane. He’s asking me about a video idea…”

“Matt…? I need to tell you something.” You make sure to tell him in the calmest voice you can provide so he won’t freak out.

“Me too. But you first! Is everything okay?” His voice is getting more shaky.

“Yeah, babe. I just-“

“Are you breaking up with me?!” He almost jumps up from his laying position.

“No! Why would you think that? Are you okay?”

His nervous laugh vibrates the both of your bodies.

“Yeah! I’m just nervous! I- I don’t know why but I am haha,” you notice him trying to calm himself down for you. “What do you need to tell me, babe?”

“I accidentally peeked at your phone.” You say, feeling somewhat ashamed.

He looks confused after you say that. “Okay? I don’t know why that’s a crime, y/n.”

“I saw a text you got from Zane. It said something like “Did you tell y/n yet?” Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

“Y/n. I promise it’s nothing to he concerned about! You know Zane. He was probably drunk for David’s vlog or something, trying to cause trouble. I wouldn’t take it personal, okay?” The reassurance in his voice calms the both of you from your past thoughts. You trust Matt. You have no reason not to.

“Okay, Matt. I trust you.” You say, snuggling into your boyfriends chest, looking back at the stars in the now-night sky.

Ten minutes pass and suddenly there’s a shower of stars above you and your boyfriend. The sights are mind-blowing. You’ve never seen a shooting star before. And you’re happy that Matt was with you for the experience.

“I can’t lie to you, y/n.” Matt softly says in your ear.

“What? What are you talking abou-“

“I love you.” He replies with quickly.

You both have never exchanged those words to each other in your months of dating. The pain from previous relationships on both ends have left so many scars for the both of you that “I love you” would be unimaginable to hear. But you felt the exact same way for him. You love him so much and he loves you. There’s no reason to hide those feelings towards him anymore.

“I love you too.” You tell him, planting a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Wait really?” He perks up from laying down with you.

“Of course! I’ve been feeling this way for so long, Matt, you have no idea.”

“Me too. That’s why I told Zane I’d tell you when the stars are racing above us. Which would explain the text you saw earlier today. I love you. And I know that we didn’t meet in the most organic way and that we’re both dealing with baggage from last relationships but wow, y/n. You light up my life like the stars do the night sky. I love you, y/n. And to know that you feel the same way makes me feel like I’m dreaming. This relationship with you has been a dream come true. And we get to spend our five month anniversary together!” He cheerfully adds.

His words made you speechless. You literally have no words to express how much you love your boyfriend. You passionately kiss him as he wraps you in a warm embrace. You slowly drift into a peaceful sleep in his arms.

“Babe. Guess what?” You hear Matt whisper to your ear.

“Yeah, babe?” You mumble.

He taps your shoulder, waking you up. You look in front of you and see his bright phone screen reading “12:00AM”

“Happy five months, y/n.”

[vegetacide]

Whump prompt#4 - part III

Veg-notables - I noticed in some of my older stuff that I tend to write a lot of internal dialogue and thoughts so I decided to push myself to write more about the surroundings and such..for this part I actually looked up the picture of an old, wood mill and I attempted to draw a picture of it with words.. Not sure if I was successful but I think it was good practice..  Let me know what you think.

Thank you to @gumnut-logic for hashing out plot points with me.  

Proofed by me..mistakes.. Blah blah blah .. be nice.

Likes, shares and comments are my motivational fuel and all that jazz

Rating:  M for suggestions of torture.

Characters: Kayo, Scott and John is floating about

Prompt snippet -  no title yet ‘cause I am still lazy and haven’t thought of one

Part I can be found HERE and Part II HERE

Enjoy…. 

oOo

Part III

Kayo approached the ramshackled grouping of buildings on silent feet.  The red rust of the corrugated siding staining its rocky footing as if the dilapidated structure had met its end by exsanguination.  Chunks of decaying metal sat like the curled husk of a dreadful creature across the marred vacant yard that was nestled between the forsaken mill and her bricked siblings. The  bracket space between, a parody of some sick graveyard that lay ragged and open to the sky littered with the fossils of rotten wooden pallets and tipped over oil drums.  

Pressing her back to an ash coloured brickwork of the stubbier of the two outbuildings, Kayo held her breath and listened.  Her eyes ever moving over the landscape of disuse before her, scanning the skeletal remains for any sign of life.  The gaping holes in the main structure absorbing the dying light of the summer sun and obscuring her gaze from seeing anything more than pitted cross beams and the ragged teeth the massive head rig.  

Hearing nothing but the sound of wind through the four and a half story mill and the distant sound of the GDF patrol flyers that had been called in,  Kayo allowed her lungs to once again expand. Alighting along the building’s perimeter she kept the scarred brickwork close to her back, her fingers dragging along its craggy surface as she continued her reconnaissance of the abandoned facility. 

Coming to a wide opening,  she halted her forward motion.  Shuffling along to the very edge of it, she carefully peered around the broken framework of what was once a large, framed window. The mullions broken or missing in the absence of what would have been a rather hefty sheet of glass, the remains of which crunched under foot and glinted dully in the tapering light of day.

The dimly lit mottled interior was in utter ruin, particles of dust dancing about in the shafts of sunlight that filtered in from the ceiling, parts of which had caved in decades ago.  Bits of old roofing tiles lay scattered across the moss covered floor along with support beams and metal fittings. 

Across the large space of what she could only perceive was the main room,  hung two heavy insulated doors. The once pristine polish of their surface now scuffed and tarnished. One sat open, its maw revealing nothing by darkness beyond. If she could guess this was a kiln house. A building that housed the large industrial ovens used to dry out and season newly milled wood.

Stepping out from behind the safety of her cover, Kayo gripped the edge of the decaying sill and made quick work hoisting herself in.  The fact that the large machinery that made up the kiln hadn’t yet fallen through the floor, telling her that the structural integrity was most likely sound enough to support her weight.  

Once within the confines of what was surprising a very large space,  she tapped her comms twice, signalling to John that she was on site and triggered her camera.  Recording everything she saw in case reference was needed later to correctly recall a poignant detail. 

Stepping gingerly around the detritus of wood shavings,  mouse escarpment and bird dropping Kayo began her search.  The tracks she found at the further part of the mining camp some five clicks away had pointed her in this direction. They’d been hastily and haphazardly concealed and she’d picked up the trail easily after going another 30 feet or so into the underbrush.  The snapped saplings and disturbed soil standing out is stark contrast to her well practiced eye. 

After a quick call up to 5, John had provided her with an overview scan  of the surrounding area and it hadn’t taken her long to stumble upon the old mill even though the likelihood of this actually leading anywhere was slim but she had to check.  Only an idiot would use something so obvious as a… 

A glint of something out of place brought Kayo up short and she stilled, eyes tracking back and forth along the floor boards. Something had caught the light as she’d been panning her vision around the space in her inspection.Tilting her head, she crouched as the change in angle caused something to catch the light again and her slender browns dipped downwards in concentration. 

Four inches from the floor a fine, silver filament stretched across the expanse of a large archway at the head of a back hallway that appeared to run the length of the building. A tripwire.  It was old tech but given the environment very practical and very skillfully applied.

Stretching her body out carefully alongside it, her eyes traced it length to it terminus, looking for any sort of trigger or devise hidden under the stacks of broken factory paraphernalia pushed off with little care at the base of the archways wooden support pillars.  

Hidden just out of sight and strapped to what appeared to be a heavy old canister of some sort was a small, blinking red light.  Definitely a trigger, though whether it was for a security system or an explosive she couldn’t tell and she couldn’t risk disturbing it to figure it out. Someone was definitely here if the trip was live.. 

Tapping her insignia, Kay opened an audio only channel to 5.  As per protocol for Kayo, John would only be able to communicate with her verbally over the line, no visual holo-cast.  He kept it short and professional, falling back on old CB radio codes on the small chance someone was piggy backing their secure line and eavesdropping. “10-2,”  a short pause followed by “10-18?”  

It was old school but it worked and kept chatter on the line to a minimal. With two short transmissions, John had verified that her channel was securely receiving her communication and had asked if she had anything to report.  That last part she knew John would usually leave out as she wouldn’t have made contact otherwise so that meant that Scott was on the line too and chomping at the bit for anything he could get on his missing brother.

“Possible contact, have the GDF stand by”

“Message received. Alerting GDF to hold at perimeter.”   

“10-4”   Kayo heard a click over the comms as John change over to the GDF frequency but the quiet was short lived as he once again patched back over to her.  Shaking her head as she lightly got back up to her feet and stepped over the tripwire, she should have known with the Defense Force so close they couldn’t sit still.  

She had enough experience with Rigby to know there was good reason for the Colonel to call on her expertise for the more delicate operations. The man was good at his job in the guns blazing, hit them first sort of way that marked his and a lot of the other GDF personnel main character traits. 

“GDF strongly advising use of backup before proceeding.”

“Negative.” Came her blunt, clipped reply.  The GDF were not known for the ability to be stealthy and in this situation that was exactly what was needed.   There was no telling what else she was going to find around here and the last thing she needed was their big boots stomping about the place tripping god knows what.  Virgil’s life could very well be in the balance and that was a risk she just would not take. 

The line went silent again after that and Kayo let out a breath.  John would pass the information on and he wouldn’t bug her about it again.  The GDF would be either mollified by that or not, she didn’t really care at the moment.

Scott on was another matter altogether though, she would prefer to handle this on her own but she knew that despite her hard no on the GDF joining that it wouldn’t forestall the commander of iR from racing over from where he was reconning.  She just hoped she could clear the scene before he got there.

Pausing a moment to mark the hazard on the digital layout her wrist comm was compiling so Scott wouldn’t trip the thing when he inevitable got there, Kayo pulled a small pen light from her pocket and flashed it up the dark hallway.  Light back here was poor with only a small 12 by 8 window every 10 feet or so making the long length a veritable minefield of hazards. A sprained ankle was the last thing she needed or worse if she happened to come across another surprise like the one she’d just found. 

Picking her way cautiously down the hall, eyes alert and ears straining for any sound out of the ordinary she continued on.    

Coming to a blind corner, Kayo glanced back up the hallway and assessed what she’d already seen and heard.  With the skill needed to trick John with a false call,  getting the upper hand on Virgil, left barely a trace and the set up with the trip wire, she knew that whoever was responsible was skilled,  very skilled. She suspicions made her think that whoever it behind it was a pro 

Hearing the tell tale sound of a jet pack, Kayo did her best to keep her internal mental tirade of courses just where they were and double tapped her  comm. 

“Sorry Kayo, Scott is en route.”  

No shit, she thought to herself.  “Be advised,  area is not secure.  Hold position until further notice.” If she could have, she would have added  I will beat Scott’s ass if he doesn’t listen but she left it unvoiced.  She hoped that her tone would be sufficient enough to pass that little ditty along. 

“Understood,  message has been relayed.” Guess it had.

Grumbling at the delay, she carried on until she came to a section of wall that looked like it had been removed with a sledge hammer, the jagged edges of which appeared fairly new and revealed a wooden stairway that descended into the earth.  

Hugging the wall, Kayo took them with care, mindful to place her foot as close to the stringer as possible.  Settling her feet on the first tread she gave a sigh of relief  when the stairs didn’t just outright collapse under her weight. They looked study enough but looks could be deceiving. 

Shifting back and forth she tested the next one down and so on and so forth until she reached the landing and the stairs made a 90 degree turn.  Taking it as a sign when there was no creaking of loose boards or anything else that might result in her broken bones she alighted down the final flight with a bit more haste.  

The tunnel that she found at the bottom was not what she expected.  It was roughly constructed and lined with concrete, the ceiling being held in place by rough cut wood beams intersected by a newer spattering of electrical cords that ran off and disappeared behind a sealed door at the far end Pocked marked between the beams was an errant placement of naked light fixtures, the bulbs of which flickered and swayed.  

It was damp and water had accumulated in several spots along the uneven rocky flooring. The dampness not only felt with a chill up her spine but smelt. It was earthy and metallic and clung to the inside of her sinuses.  

Listening, she could hear the muted pitch of a motor. The faint scent of fuel and exhaust carried along with the wet soil that permeated the air had her picturing a generator, something easy to procure and set up. Her suspicions peaked again that this was anything but a random attack on her family. They were too well prepared for this to have been a spur of the moment, which meant organized and more proof that the perpetrator was not just some run of the mill kidnapper. 

The click of her comm activating, had her cursing under her breath.  Now was not the time.  She quickly shut it off again.  Scott could damn well stay upstairs and wait where she knew he would be safe. She couldn’t worry about him on top of all this.

Ducking into a shadowed alcove, Kayo parked behind a large crate, ears keenly tuned to pick up on any sounds that indicated her infiltration was a bust  Back pressed to the tunnel wall she could just make out the first door.   It was unlatched and moving slightly, caught up in a mild breeze that seemed to originate further down the tunnel.  

The gap was just wide enough that Kayo could catch a glimpse of what lay beyond.  There was a flickering light but by its random movements she guess a gas lamp of some sort was burning.  Crates seemed to line a wall..  They appeared new and from the markings on the side possibly army surplus supplies. So who ever this one, they had been here a while. 

Holding her breath as she waited a beat for some sort of reaction from the other side. A voice, a shifting of shoes, anything to forewarn her that she had been discovered. The small hairs on the back of her neck prickling with sensation as her adrenaline spiked a notch.    

When nothing changed or came charging out, she plucked a small device from her the pouch at her waist and dropped it. Automatically a duel set of miniature rotors unfolded from it and it began to hover in the air. A little something that Brains had supplied her for just this situation.  

The small device carried a micro camera and was easily controlled from her wrist comm.  The magnetic rotors were virtually silent and their independent movement allowed the tiny bot the agility to move about basically anywhere that Kayo required.  

There were some downsides to the tech, like heat sensitive and its range capabilities  and battery life were limited due to its size but overall it was perfect for Kayo’s uses. It had a few other handy add-ons though that more than made of its for what it was lacking. 

With a flick of her daft fingers, her wrist unit sparked to life and an image of herself from the little flyer sprang up on the screen.  With easy, she maneuvered the craft out and around her hiding place. It hugged the ceiling, its onboard sensory preventing it from crashing into any obstructions and zipped easily over to the open door way.   With a quick title on its axis, it breached the gap and entered the room beyond.

Automatically,  data and floor blueprints popped up on Kayo’s display. Geological information followed,  GPS locations and the general makeup of the room, ambient temperature.  Everything that one could possibly need to know about a 10 x 12 space. It was as she had guessed,  a storage room of some sort and from the tiny screen, she could make out an empty rustic seating area, remnants of food containers and even a small cooker.  No bio reading or heat signatures indicative of a person though and a quick glance at the composition of the wall told her she would have to go room by room.

The little flyer made quick work of the tunnel and in a matter of minutes Kay had a good read of the layout of the place.   Four rooms total,  and no trace of any occupants.  The place had been deserted and deserted in a rush by the looks of things. 

Leaving the alcove, Kay stepped out into the middle of the tunnel and hit her comms.  “Scott,  you can stop your pacing. John,  let the GDF know the place is a ghost town and that they can send in their team now.. Give em a heads up about the trip on the first floor and they should watch out for more.”  

“Roger that”

Within seconds, the tall brunette leader of iR was striding down the stairs towards her. The scowl in place not impressed at being caged upstairs while she did her initial scans. 

“Report?”  His voice was blunt with barely contained anger. 

“Nothing so far,  but the place has been cleared out.  No trace of any electronic signatures that could signal additional defenses but watch your step and stay behind me. If I had a choice you would be back at the island..”

“Tough shit.” 

The made their way through each room.  The storage room was first and proved Kayo’s theory that the facility had been set up for the long run.  The next room was a bunkie with a couple of pallets for sleeping and little else.  There was a generator room, that had makeshift ventilation system that vented exhausted into the mill above, it was heavily padded to reduce noise and the door was actually steel reinforced.

That left door number four.   Pausing outside it,  Kayo looked to Scott and laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder.  The little flyer hadn’t picked up on anything living down here but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t find something else.  

When his blue gaze met hers,  he gave a single nod and Kayo put her shoulder into the door.  

The room was dark and barren.   The only light source the signal bar bulb at her back which swayed lightly, illuminating briefly first one side of the room and then the other as its light cast about in the breeze.   

Like the rest of the tunnel system the flooring was dirt covered but the walls appeared damp with water run off from some unknown source.  It was colder in this room compared to the others as well and the creepy feeling she’d experienced out in the alcove returned, sending shuddered up Kayo’s spine.  

Pulling her penlight out once more she flashed it around the room.   There was a metal chair to one side of the room and discarded lashings strewn about the floor at its base.   Walking over to it,  Kayo did a cursory scan of the floor and didn't like what she found.  

“The chair is fastened to the ground.”  She pointed out, crouching to examine the bolts holding it down.  Picking up one of the lengths of rope she tried her best to push down the fear at the sight of blood that darkened the strong twine, her light once more sweeping over the room.

She could trust Scott to stay out of the way, he knew how she worked and he kept himself over by the door so she could do her job.  “What’s that over there?”  He nodded, squinting his eyes as he tried to make out what it was from across the room. 

Glancing back over her shoulder, she pushed up to her feet aiming her light at what Scott had indicated.  “Not sure..”  Walking over to it, she bent down to take a look and stilled. 

“Kayo?” 

Proof. “They had him here.”  Turning back to Scott as he finally stepped further into the room she held the torn remains of a soft, grey shirt, one she knew that Virgil had put on some sixteen hours earlier. 

In the early hours of the morning she’d been lazing in a tangled mess of bed sheets, languid and completely sated. Happy for the first time in ...she had no idea how long and oh so relaxed. She’d raked her gaze over his fine physique and with a smile watched him pull the soft cotton down over his finger tousled hair before he’d turned and cupped her cheek for a good morning kiss that had once again led to other things..

Clenching her eyes shut she pushed the image from her mind. The shirt in her hand that smelt of his aftershave (the one she’d bought him last Christmas), the irony tang of blood and fear sweat, held tight as she tried to make sense of all of this and couldn’t.  

Drawing in her breath, she gathered her bearing and returned to the task at hand.   Peridot eyes swept around the earthen room that for  lack of a better word it was what amounted to a cell.  Archaic as it was, the place looked like something out of one of the many old war movies she had seen and it was hard to believe that in this day in age people still resorted to them. 

 Eyes narrowing as something caught her attention across the room behind Scott,  she canted her head slightly trying to make out what it was. “Scott,  behind you on the table.” She directed with a head nod towards the far corner. 

Sitting on a small utility table amidst various discoloured rags and  a roll of duct tape rested a folded note address to Scott and a holo-recorder.   “What is it?”

“I’m not sure.” Picking up the note, Scott examined both sides of it. His name graced one side of it with thick block letters but other than that it was blank.  Furrowing his brows he turned his attention to the recorder and powered it up, the small piece of tech casting odd shadows about the cell walls as it started to play some pre-recorded video. 

Within seconds Scott’s face went from confusion to a look of abject terror that found Kayo instantly at his side having no idea she’d even made a conscious decision to move.  The look in his eyes had her heart stuttering and relocating somewhere North of her chest.

“Scott…?”

Instantly everything else in the room suddenly dissolved, like someone had hit the dimmer switch on the rest of the world.  Sound took on a tinny quality and faded into nothingness.  Her panic breath and what she was looking at now the only things that seemed to registered in the vacuum. 

There on the screen was an image of Virgil,  bound to a chair and bereft of his uniform.  He was blindfolded, the dark material obscuring part of his face but she knew it was him. She knew intimately that slumped form and the filthy cloth did little to mask the angry bruises and sluggishly oozing blood. 

Off screen a modulated voice spoke and Kayo heard it as if it was distorted by some great distance. Movement in the back of the recording drew her eyes as a darkly dressed form came into frame behind the battered pilot. The camera at such an angle that the body of the person was cut off above the shoulders masking their identity.   

Virgil’s limp head was yanked painfully back by his matted hair, putting his face in the camera lens as a glint of finely honed steel pressed into the soft skin at his throat.  A small nick with the blade let forth a small trickle of blood but by the lack of response and the lax, bloody mouth it was obvious he was unconscious.

Biting back a growl at the mistreatment Kayo didn’t dare blink or look away as she prayed for Virgil  to show some sign of life. Anything to set the world in motion again.  The poor quality of the holo hampering the search but than the faintest of movements caught her eye and made her breath hitch and her heart gave a mighty kick in her chest.

There, under the ruddy skin along his stubbled jaw, straining awkwardly due to the thrust of his head was a laggy pulse of life at his jugular  

“He’s alive.”  She thought she heard herself say, not realizing as she began to shiver just how worried she’d been that she would have found something else down here. 

The brother beside her cursed and sagged back against her. “Oh god…”

And just like that everything came into sharp focus again and sound returned. Along with it like the rush of a burst dam a surge of anger coursed through her and immediately she registered what the digitally obscured voice was saying.  

The robotic cadence crackled through the little speaker of the recorder.  “Tracy, meet my demands and your Brother will live. No security, no GDF..if not...” The voice trailed off as another unidentifiable figure came into frame and with a rough hand bared down on Virgil’s shoulder. The scream that the action ripped from Virgil’s split, bloody lips and his body’s shuttered contortion of pain had Kayo nails biting into her palm in anger.

The warped laugh that followed the torturous sound was sinister and laced with an edge of madness, “We’ll be in contact.” A chuckle and the screen went dark.   

TBC

[jortsaaaaaaart]

Dandelion pt6 Junkrat x Reader

I’m actually still alive, thanks. Please enjoy this chapter.

(As an aside, I really like it when you guys send me asks or messages to tell me that you like this. It makes me feel like I’m doing an okay job!)

You couldn’t remember the last time you looked so good. (No, wait. Yes you could, five years ago for the assassination of a member of the Nigerian royalty. But that was beside the point. What mattered was how hot you looked right now.) The dress looked vintage, something akin to what was in style in the 1940’s, the sleeves and top hugged you tightly while the fabric starting at your waist spread out around you. Your hair was pinned up loosely and the makeup they applied was only a shade darker than your actual skin tone. You looked plain but beautiful.

You exited the dressing room and walked over to Tracer. She was standing next to a black limo, when you got close enough she explained that it was to be your transportation for the mission. Bulletproof glass. Extra munitions in the side doors. A fully stocked mini fridge. The limo had everything you would need on the mission. Everything except for your mission partner. You had just decided to climb in and wait for him when you heard people shouting. You peered back at the door to the stylist’s room as a very angry junker stormed out, with three aggravated women following behind.

“Stop touch’in me!” He whined as the women tried to do some finishing touches. Though, you had to admit there wasn’t much to touch up. They had done an amazing job. Jamison’s hair was slicked back, hiding the burned spots of his scalp, and he was dressed in a -tight- black suit. You couldn’t keep the blush off your cheeks, so you decided to hide away in the limo instead. Jamison grumpily joined you a minute later.

“Ai still can’ believe we ‘ad to dress like this.” He growled, looking out the window. “There ain’ nothing wrong with ‘ow I usually dress. . . ‘Ow bad did they mess ya. . . up. . .” He turned towards you and paused. He hadn’t seen you when he climbed in. But now he couldn’t tear his eyes away. You felt your face flush again as Jamison let his eyes trail over your body.

“Close your mouth,” You huffed. “Bugs will fly in.” He immediately shut his mouth with a resounding ‘clack’ and turned to stare out the window once again. This time with a cherry red face.

‘Dear lord this is going to be awkward.’

-

The limo ride was long and silent. Both of you were relieved when it pulled into the driveway of a towering mansion.

Jamison voiced your thoughts as he whistled appreciatively. The house- No, more like ‘The Castle’ - was amazing. The outside was lit by hundreds of spotlights and paper lanterns. When you got closer you could hear classical music being played from somewhere inside.

“Looks like Versailles.” You mumbled. “That’s a whole lot of rooms to check. . .”

“Feckin’ rich people.” Junkrat grumbled. You had to laugh at that and he seemed relieved that the silence between two of you was broken. You exchanged a quick smile before the limo stopped and the doors were opened by an ancient looking butler. Once you had exited, the butler guided you into a huge foyer before hurrying off to cater to the next group of people. Junkrat stood next to you, shifting anxiously as he eyed the large amount of well-dressed people strolling around. You had to admit you were nervous too. You had never done a job this fast before, and had always been better prepared. Hell, you didn’t even have an alias. Shit. You probably needed one of those.

“Okay, Jamison.” You whispered as you dragged him off to the side. “If anyone asks we’re Mr and Mrs Lanyett. I’m a jeweler and you work from home. Okay?” His brow furrowed but he nodded anyway.

“S’pose it’s smart to not use our real names. ‘Ow’d you come up with that so fast sheila?” Said Jamison. You shrugged and told him you’d used it on a different job before. “Mhmmm, sure you jus’ didn’ want to be married to me, ay, Mrs Lanyett?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m positive. Come on rat boy. We have to go bomb hunting. The two of you slowly made your way through the crowd. You had the sense to keep a smile on your face. Jamison, however, looked like he’d just sucked on a lemon.

It wasn’t quite clear when you got seperated. But what was painfully clear was that you were being talked to death. Mrs Jones - and her wife, Mrs Jones- had cornered you at the champagne table. They were greatly relieved to have found another young woman at the gala. You looked at them, they were both in their late fifties, and nodded hastily.

“Yes, it is nice to see some younger faces!” You said through a false smile. Mrs and Mrs Jones smiled happily and began to chitter on and on about different topics. They had just gotten to their opinions on Omnics when your savior appeared. You sighed with relief as you saw him hobble towards you.

“‘Oi, wifey. Can ai steal you away for a jiff?” Jamison interrupted, placing a hand on your lower back.

“Sure, Dear.” You replied cheerfully. “So sorry girls but I have to run. You know how men can get when they don’t have their wife to help them out.” The Joneses giggled impishly at your joke and waved you off. Jamison lead you away, his hand still on the small of your back. He had apparently been exploring while you were trapped in gossip hell. Jamison pulled you through countless corridors and down three flights of stairs.

“It’s in ‘ere. Found it strapped to the boiler.” He said as he opened a door into a murky, wet, basement. The bomb was indeed stuck to the side of the boiler. If you could even call it a bomb. It looked like a small steel disk with the trademark wires protruding out from the side.

“How did you find this?” You ask as you try to get a better look at the bomb.

“Well the ‘ouse is freakin’ huge, so they’d either need a feckin huge bomb or they’d need ta use somethin’ that’s already ‘ere. So, bingo-bango, I check out the most explosive thing ‘ere and find that little bugger. When it goes off the boiler will take out most of the house. Boom!” Jamison explained happily.

“I feel like that’s been done before. . .” You mutter to yourself. You crouched down and peered at the bomb warily. “You can diffuse it right?” Jamison huffed and knelt down next to you.

“‘Course I can, Killer. Now step back an’ let the Artiste do ‘is work.” He replied cockily. You scooted back some as he began to examine the bomb. His amber eyes narrowed and a grin spread across his face. Jamison spent a minute looking it over, and the way his grin faded was your first clue something was wrong. He started to panic, his movements becoming sharp and jittery. When he’d exhausted every trick he knew Jamison turned to you helplessly. “Ai think we may have a problem, (Y/N). . .”

You felt your stomach drop as you realized what he meant. Junkrat, the all-around explosive expert, couldn’t defuse the bomb. You immediately grabbed the cellphone that Tracer had given you and pressed the panic button.

Bzzt. Sounds of static started coming out of the phone. “. . . (Y/N)?” Tracer’s voice cut through the static. “Do you need to evacuate the building?”

“Yes. We, er, we couldn’t do it. The bomb is still active.” You replied.

“Alright. . . I’ll broadcast an evacuation alert and send in the local police. You two should get out of there.” Tracer’s voice cut out and the phone went back to the deafening static.

“Well. . . I guess that’s that. We probably need to get going.” You breathed, voice more than a little bit melancholy. Jamison nodded and the two of you began to leave. You had reached the door when you heard something that made your blood run cold. Jamison whipped around and stared at you with wide, fearful, eyes.

The device had begun to click and whirr. By the time it began to beep, you were already sprinting up the stairs.

Jamison dragged you through the main hall by your hand. There were more people than there were before. The gala seemed to be in full swing. Some of them were staring at you and you felt like you should warn them. Damnit, you needed to warn them. “You all need to get out! This place is gonna blow!” You yelled as loud as you could. A few of them looked shocked or scared, some even ran out. But the majority stayed still, looking at you like you were crazy. “What are you doing? You’ll die if you stay here!” A couple more people started to panic after that. You tried to stop and tell them about the bomb, but Jamison wouldn’t let go of your wrist.

“What are you doing!? We need to help them!” You cried as he forcibly dragged you to the main entrance.

“I’m not letting you burn in here, (Y/N).” He growled. You turned back to the hall, watching helplessly.

The last thing you saw were the two women, the gossiping Joneses, from before. Looking at you, terrified, as they tried to follow you. They never made it out of the building. A blast rang out, and an orange ball of fire rose up, consuming the Joneses and throwing you like a rag doll. Your head crashed against the asphalt below.

You blinked groggily. Your ears were still ringing from the explosion. But, hell. You were alive, and judging from the sudden sound of laughter next to you, so was Junkrat. You both sat up and stared at the giant hole the bomb had left. You felt light, ecstatic, the adrenaline still running through your veins.

“We’re alive, oh my god! We’re alive!” You exclaimed. Jamison must have felt the same. You looked at each other before smiling tiredly, Jamison was still laughing like a madman. And maybe it was the adrenaline high, maybe it was the inconceivable act of surviving, but when Junkrat roughly pressed his lips against yours you didn’t pull away. If anything, you actually deepened the kiss. Tangling your hands in his charred hair. Junkrat happily took control of the kiss, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you closer. You didn’t know what you expected kissing him would be like. But the way he kept pulling back to let out a few happy giggles before plunging back in was definitely unique. Not in a bad way either.

Junkrat sighed as he pulled away.

“Ahh~, I always knew we’d do great things together, killer.”

[waldos-writing]

The Dig Initiative: Chapter 11

Father Barkley

Alright, it was stupid. It was stupid and fun and it was so much fun but it was stupid. It was. He admitted that. Didn’t mean he was not going to spoon her in that cramped twin bed. Because that’s what a gentleman does after like, shit, what? Hours and hours of practice. Right? I mean, people still counted sex in rounds, in turns. One-Love. Five-six. Whatever. He hadn’t done anything since…but it still counted. Holy balls the girl was a demon and he enjoyed her tricks.

He was buried in her long black hair and he didn’t even mind it. She was texting with his phone, furious little words spit out from her thumbs. She had a fire bug up her butt about this whole tower thing and he liked her energy. It felt good. It just felt nice and he hated that he liked it and he hated that he thought about it too much. He always did. If anything, it didn’t really matter, in the scheme of things.

“Wanna know why?” she used to say.

“Why?” he’d croon back at her, face in her red hair, intoxicated on perfume and gin.

“You’re a speck,” she used to say and he’d nod and tell her to go on. “You’re a speck in a sea of people on a spinning marble in a giant solar system in a clusterfuck of stars you or I or the guy next door couldn’t name or imagine in its completion, in a void that doesn’t even reach our own eyeballs at night and you think if I stepped out into traffic tomorrow that it would change the world?”

“Well,” he’d say, slowly coming out of the fog of hair and sex. “Well, probably change whoever hit you.”

Devon hated when Cherry did that. She liked to ramble and he liked to go with it right up until she started being cavalier about suicide. He tried. He was very good at talking her out of it when she was really messed up. But if she was casual about it, like she was after sex, and she put her head on his chest and occasionally drew words on his stomach with her fingernails, then he’d have to be casual too. He’d try. He’d always try.

“It would raise their rates at least. Might even put them in jail.”

“Yeah. Bet it’d screw with their family too.”

“Bet it would.”

This was a common scene. It was best because he could wind himself around Cherry and she was calm and hot and peaceful. He remembered that this was when they had just purchased the house, the one Devon said he’d build a fence around and fix up the kitchen sometime. Maybe he’d put in new shutters before winter. There was something about the light through those yellowed, filmy windows and that rough beige carpet. It was theirs. They’d earned it begging people to buy her art and his records from his shitty little band and the radio gig in Montpelier, before he moved over to Yellow Yowl Entertainment. It was all theirs and they could walk around naked, eat fruit roll-ups and vodka for breakfast, shower five times a day or once a week and crush neat little lines of oxycodone along the ceramic sink. They could fold origami cranes from grocery receipts and smoke some of the meth they’d stolen from their recently dead neighbor and drink sugary smoothies and cry at Bambi every night. Whatever they wanted. It was theirs.

“Do they do funerals at night?” she asked as she kissed the bright red lines scratched into his chest. Her hair, which was once as red and vibrant as her namesake, had brown roots and split ends. The curls were all frizz, a mess of burnt straw. He brushed it gently out of her eyes. Her bruised, bloodshot eyes that were covered in week-old makeup, smeared with a fresh coat in the morning when he went off to work. She spread it into practiced smoky lines. Her weary beauty made his stomach bubble with delight. “I mean, like, ones under full moons or no moon or whatever.”

“I don’t know,” he answered, feeling that old metal coil of fear corkscrew through his guts. Why was it always funerals?

“You’d think you could, like, really see the soul float up then. I bet if you did one of those barbarian things, those Viking funeral things where you push the body out on the sea and light it on fire. Oh my god, the spark coming off that and the smoke billowing up. Watch it go up to the stars to dance forever. Learn all the names of all the faces looking down on us. ‘Kings of our past.’ Why does that sound familiar? ‘Kings of our past.’ What’s that from?”

“I don’t know, babe. Little Mermaid or something.”

“Something. Yeah. Yeah, I wonder what their faces would look like, don’t you? You know, they’ve been fire for so long; can they even have a face? Do you just, no, listen, do you go up in smoke right away? Or they give you some time to drift around. I want to see them drifting. Blurry faces squirming of everyone below you. Or maybe, maybe, babe, maybe they’re like stone. You think we look like statues to all the ghosts? I’d think springtime would be good. Mist spools up from the ground, like all the ghosts are coming together. Big orgy of spirits, you know? Makes it look like they’re dancing.”

“Right, love,” he said and kissed her over her eyebrow. “Mist in the morning. Speaking of which, I’ve got to be at the station in an hour and you’re up at Sal’s today, right?”

“It’s Wednesday already?”

“Wednesday already,” he answered. “Look, we got a gig at Feuermann’s tonight. You promise me to go to Sal’s, please.”

“Oh, he’s just going to say I need to go back on those pills”

“He will.”

“They make my tummy hurt.”

“I know.” Devon scrubbed her leg, making the pale white skin red and alive. “Also said you gotta take them with food. Go with me to the grocery later, okay? Promise me and I’ll buy you the whole bar if you like.”

“Nah,” she said, reaching for his hand. He gave it to her, just so she could nibble on his thumb. “I like to watch you play with a clear head. Hand me my vest over there. And make some toast? No butter!”

And that’s how it was. Months like that, years even. Where did it all go?

 “I don’t know how you got me to agree to this,” whispered Devon, staring down at the giant monkey wrench in his hand. “And where the hell did you even get this?”

“Brother’s a mechanic,” said Declan. He was over a control panel, tapping part of a screen and sucking in his cheeks only to puff them out and do it again. “Hit that.”

“Hit what?” Devon hissed. His heart was hammering so hard he was afraid he was going to choke on it when it exploded. “I don’t want to hit anything. Oh my god, I’ll just hit you. I’ll hit you and I’ll run and they won’t even find me except for the piss trail I leave behind me oh my god, is that an alarm? Holy shit, that’s an alarm. We gotta go. We gotta go, holy shit, that’s an alarm. I’m going to drop this. I’m just going to set this down here—”

“Pause.”

“Did you just—”

Declan swiveled in the chair that was left in front of a large, closet-sized control panel. Little red lights blinked behind him, a panel of orange lit buttons to his left and too many wheels and gears and pipes to his right. The whole thing looked fake. It thrummed like a cheap television set. Declan, with his black hoodie, his long dreadlocks, his patchy beard, looked like a harmless villain. He even tented his fingers in thought.

A moment stretched as something buzzed persistently behind Declan on the vido screen. It was counting down, probably alerting someone far away and Devon was sure they were about to be pounced upon by a fleet of Black Jackets. They were going to bust in and decapitate them with a flick of their wrists.

“You want some water?” Declan asked.

“Water? What the actual literal entire fuck is your issue. Water! Why the f—”

Declan snapped his fingers and reached down into his old duct-tape duffel bag. True to word, he pulled out a water bottle, clear, glittering with the alarm lights. He held it out as an offering and just before Devon took it, he raised his hand. The alarm on the screen stopped. A green light overtook the control panels. Security was shut off and whoever had been alerted was given a short message of “false alarm.”

Devon stood taller, watching the door and the vido screen. His heart was still going, but he sighed, feigned a little satisfaction and relief. He said, “You did it.”

“Yeah. So, water?”

“Sure.”

Devon reached out and again Declan pulled it back. He said, “I gotta be straight.”

“Okay,” said Devon slowly.

“It’s drugged.”

“It’s—”

“Drugged. Yeah. Here.”

“I don’t want it if it’s drugged!” Devon almost slapped the water bottle out of Declan’s hand, but Declan was quick and snapped it back. “What the hell!”

“Anti-anxiety,” said Declan as he stood. He pressed the bottle into Devon’s chest, and tapped him twice on the shoulder. “Mostly. Thought I’d ask this time.”

Devon held onto the bottle. Anti-anxiety, huh? No rhyme or reason to it, but he started to untwist the cap and just as he was about to sniff the water and convince himself whether he was going to drink it or not, the words clicked. “Wait…this time?”

Declan did not have time to defend himself as Alice burst through the thick steel hatch. She had on a black stocking cap, black skintight shirt and pants, sweater, boots, socks, lipstick, eyeshadow, underwear. Whole outfit of “I’ve seen this in movies and I think I can get away with espionage and wreak havoc” that was not nearly practical enough in the cold night air but damn if she didn’t look fine as red wine.

“It worked?” she asked, for some reason breathless.

“Worked,” Declan answered.

“Worked how what worked?” asked Devon. “What’s it doing?”

Devon chucked the drugged bottle of water against the wall. It bounced, the plastic making a soft “pap” sound before the water erupted out of the opening. An arc splashed the floor in an anticlimactic protest of aggression.

“You should have had that,” said Declan.

“‘You should have meh mlah mah,’” said Devon in a nasally mimic.

“He’s having a bad time.”

“Fucking right I am!”

“Dev,” said Alice and touched his arm. He was pulled out of his useless tantrum. “What’s wrong?”

And it was a simple question. It was. She just asked it, casual like that, touched his arm, casual like that. She’d come out of the shadows with her warm buttery skin and dark oily hair from days without shower. She kept it tied behind her small ears, out of her eyes. Kohl eyes, big lovely eyebrows. Mustard Alice. She was so not Cherry, it punched him in the gut.

“Dev?” she asked.

So what did it matter that her band partner was going to drug him or maybe had done it before. The bar, the egg. This was the usual for good old Declan. Alright, so it wasn’t that bad. They were illegally inside a CleanAire tower and basically dismantling it. Devon tried another big breath to see if it calmed his heartbeat. It didn’t, but he pretended that it did.

“Nothing,” he said at last. He tried to sound convincing. He was good, you know, because he was in radio. “What’re we doing?”

“Fucking shit up,” said Alice, her cheeks dimpled, her eyes sparkling in the low green light of the control panels. “Ready?”

Devon eyed the kid and the bottle on the floor. What did he say? He said he was going to stick to Declan’s side. He was going to follow Alice because he was head-over-heals for her. Devon felt old and stupid, but he wiped one hand on his pant leg and then the other so he had a good grip on the wrench.

“Born for it, baby,” he said, and lifted the wrench high over his head.

Devon wanted to say more. He used to have such a way with words, he did, and he knew there was a lot of terribleness coming that he wanted to speak to. Instead, he hoisted his weapon up high and brought it down on the electrical equipment like he was smiting Sin. Sparks shot up. There was a jolt along his forearms, maybe a literal shock mixed with the reverb. Alice shrieked some fantastic battle cry and knocked a big rubber mallet into a panel next to her. Declan wheeled out of the area, watching calm and cool from the back. He had a toolbox with him and he whistled as he went up the stairs to the filtration center, returning later with grease stains and a new metal pipe. Devon picked up his wrench to ruin the next piece of equipment.

It was stupid. It was stupid and fun and painful, but it was stupid. It was. Of course he admitted that. Devon whooped victory as Mustard Alice kicked her big boot through the projection panel for the vido screen. They might be caught and they might not. When she smiled a big wild grin over at him, Devon breathed. It was stupid. He was in love again.

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