#once was talking about how I gotta heat my room with an electric radiator and the person starts telling me about how I gotta do it

[medicinemane]

.

[abovethesmokestacks]

Kiss Me

Title: Kiss Me

Pairing: Captain Syverson x reader

Rating: T

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Very intense kissing? Some grinding?

I am back on my Henry bullshit, this time with the lovely Captain Syverson. As with my last Henry fic, this came about from a discussion with Brooke, which led to a personalized fic, and she graciously okayed me posting it as a reader insert for the rest of you to enjoy. Partly inspired by the video of strangers kissing for the first time. And if this guy were the one I’d get to kiss? Hold on while I go full koala on him.

The early afternoon sun had seemed blistering when she left her apartment, and the sundress had been the obvious option; light, breezy material, a pretty pattern that combined comfort and style. The sun had nothing on the man sitting down opposite her now, radiating a kind of warmth and confidence that had heat creeping up her chest and neck, her fingers fiddling in her lap.

It had been a spur of the moment decision, an audition call shared by a recent acquaintance on Instagram. Film majors at the nearby college needed volunteers for a course project, weekend appointments, no experience needed, come as you are. Sounded fun, her weekends were mostly open anyway. What could possibly go wrong. She had messaged the contact person, gotten an address and a time to show up.

The first shock, admittedly, had come as she was signed in, given a form to fill out, detailing the project. She. Was going to kiss. A stranger. In front of cameras. For a film project. 

“Miss? Are you alright?” The bubbly brunette who had signed her in, Abigail, according to the name tag tacked to her t-shirt, had looked at her, and she realized she must have made a sound.

“No! No, I'm fine, I- I just didn’t realize I’d- That this was-”

“Oh! Oh, you’ll be fine, there will be people in the room, you'll be safe as houses, darling, we won't say your names, that'll be up to you to share if you want.” The twang of her accent had was oddly comforting, but her heart was still racing, and suddenly, the handful of people lined up sitting in the corridor seemed all the more dangerous. She was going to kiss one of them. Fuck. Hastily, she'd filled out the rest of the form, handing it back and taking the number given, finding the nearest chair and trying to rifle through her purse as discreetly as she could for a chewing gum or a breath mint. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She had nearly launched out of her seat when her number was called, probably doing a credible impression of a deer caught in headlights. Abigail had smiled at her, motioning for her to follow.

“I promise, you will be fine. Our project manager wanted to explore the intimacy of the first kiss, what happens in those seconds before.”

“Why strangers?”

“It’s more… honest,” Abigail had said. “Couples know each other, know what to expect. They are comfortable. And it’s beautiful, don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing sweeter. I still remember my grandpa kissing my grandma goodnight when my brother and I would stay over when we were kids, the absolute comfort and love between them. But strangers, they don’t know what to expect. There’s a level of trust between them, courage to take the leap.”

That’s… She couldn’t decide if that eased her mind or set it racing even more. She’d simply nodded, letting Abigail lead her to a door a little way ahead, unlocking it for her.

“You can leave your purse on the table on the right when you enter. Then go sit in one of the chairs. I’ll bring the guy in shortly. The camera will start rolling as soon as he sits down, you can introduce yourself if you want, just your name, doesn't even have to be your real one if you don't want to, and you can share whatever else you feel comfortable sharing and then…”

“Then we kiss.”

It had seemed so simple, so straightforward in all its terrifying simplicity.

At first, there is only the outline of him, stark against the light outside the room and showing a muscular frame with tensed shoulders and a wary gait. Folding her hands in her lap, she picks at the fabric of her dress, folding the skirt into tight pleats between her fingers, following the man as he inches closer. Dark jeans that reveal long legs and thick thighs, a worn t-shirt tucked into them that stretches over a chest that is… impressive. His face, though… His face is what sets her heart fluttering all anew. A strong jaw, hidden under a neatly trimmed beard, a slightly pouty lower lip and a perfect cupid’s bow. His nose looks like it may have been broken once, but it’s been set pretty well, lends character to his face, enhanced by the clear blue of his eyes that focus in on her. His hair is short, curling a little at the ends, but kept as neat as his beard, almost like a military man, but she can spot no chain around his neck that would hold his dog tags.

And then, he’d walked in. 

She barely hears the murmur to her left when the cameras start rolling.

He doesn’t speak until he’s sitting down, gaze on her, softening a little as he holds out a hand.

“Ca- Shit, sorry. No names, right?” He looks at her, almost a little scared that he’s messed up, and it is far too endearing for such a rugged man.

Without hesitation, she gives her first name, her real first name, a little surprised at herself for offering it along with her hand. His hand is calloused, warm and big, her own palm almost drowning in his clasp when he takes it. “Nice to meet you.”

The man laughs, releasing her hand and relaxing in his seat. “Sy. Nice to meet you, too. Pardon me if I'm being rude, but you don't sound like you're from around here.”

“Here for work for the next couple of months. Gotta say, you've got a pretty good ear.”

His eyes sparkle, a smile tugging at his lips, and god, the heat rises in her again, different from the apprehension that had her worked up just moments ago. He is the kind of man that draws you in, that can make you melt with a look, and she is fading fast. She is going to kiss him. He is going to kiss her.

“I won't hold it against you," Sy quips, hands resting on his thighs, and god, she wants to feel them on her.

"Me not being from around here? Or are we talking about something else?"

"Well, I was thinking the first..."

His words trail off, the suggestion hanging heavy in the silence. It feels like it stretches an eternity between them, but it's probably no more than five seconds. She's about to ask if they should start, if she should move, but Sy is looking at her, gaze wandering, assessing. The way he takes her in,i's not objectifying or greedy, not judgmental. It's… curiosity. Assessing her, planning his move, appreciating her, and she can feel it, feel his gaze move up and down her face, when it dips down for a fraction to her chest.

Everything fades with his first move. There are no cameras, no people, no one but them. Sy moves slowly, deliberately, scooting to sit on the edge of the chair, knee knocking against hers. It's electric, making her flinch and gasp, and that seems to please him. His hand comes up to rest on her knee, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb, locking eyes with her, willing her to relax.

"There we go…" Sy croons when she lets out a small sigh, his voice low and velvety. "Just relax. 'S just you an' me here. Don’t need to think about the rest of ‘em.. I'll be good, darlin', you can trust me. Isn't that right?"

She can only nod, inching towards the edge of her own chair, drawn into his warmth, the gentle timbre of his voice, the smolder behind the blue of his eyes.

"Yeah, that’s right, sugar. C’mon, come closer.”

His voice is hypnotic, not quite a purr, not quite a rumble, but it begs to be obeyed. She leans in closer, the two of them mirroring each other, and the tension is no longer in his shoulder, but sparking between them. His measured breaths fan lightly against her skin, and though everything in her should, by all logic, tell her to run, she finds herself relaxing. Sy’s thumb keeps working tight little circles, and he moves slowly, giving her plenty of time to see his intentions, and God, she welcomes it, tilts her head to welcome him.

It’s no explosion of stars or fireworks. His lips are a little chapped, but he knows how to kiss, working against her in soft pressure and the tease of his tongue along the seam of her lips. It’s not forcing the kiss, just giving her the option, showing that he is offering. When his other hand comes up to cup her cheek, she can’t help the needy whine that escapes her, and Sy smiles into the kiss, deepens it a little, swipes his tongue along her lips again.

She opens, happily surrendering, feeling him push back, soothing his thumb along her cheekbone. He kisses like she is the one thing he has been longing for, his happily ever after at the end of a long adventure. She kisses like he is the single point of stability in a storm, the one safe harbour in the entire world. Their spaces intertwine, slowly phasing and his one hand on her cheek is nowhere near enough. She pushes, Sy gives, and in one fluid moment and a happy sigh, she has straddled his lap, slinging her arms around his neck. She’s not letting go, not leaving this moment, and it’s almost like triumph when he embraces her, palms splaying on her back and she can feel the warmth through the thin material of her dress.

It’s a kiss for the ages, and they’re both hungry, both taking what the other gives freely. Sy’s hands wander, his fingertips teasing at the neckline to brush against heated skin, and she digs short, manicured nails into the skin of his neck, revelling in the groan he lets out. He pulls her closer, and oh. Her stomach does a somersault, a surprised giggle punctuating their kiss. Under her, Sy is hard, and the brief contact makes her all too aware of just how damp her panties have gotten.

There’s a less than discreet cough, and it pops their bubble, their gazes both snapping to the sound. 

Right.

The film crew are standing behind their gear, some squirming, clearly a little uncomfortable. Sy gives a laugh, and it’s hard not to follow. She still feels winded from the kiss, head swimming, and she touches her forehead to his, biting her lower lip.

“I think we… might have overdone it,” she whispers, lips brushing against his cheek.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Sy agrees, his shoulders shuddering with poorly disguised mirth. He looks up at the film crew, “So, are we good?”

“Yup, great! We’re really- we’re good, you guys can, uh… Yeah. Good. Thanks. Um. Yeah. Great.”

They both laugh again at the awkward crew member, and she slowly eases off Sy’s lap. It’s too much of a temptation not to glance down, to raise an eyebrow at the visible bulge pressing against his jeans. He gives her a mock-chiding look before getting up himself, taking care to not face the crew as he falls into step next to her.

“Look,” he says as soon as they are out of the building, wringing his hands as he walks, “I know we just met, and that… that back there was for a project. But, god, sugar, you got my head spinning all kinds of ways, and I… it would be rude to ask to continue right away where we left off, much as I… god, I would really, really like to kiss you again, and… other things… But maybe you would be okay with a date? Anywhere you want. You can get to know me better. I’ll answer any questions you have, I’ll bring character references, I’ll pay for dinner and dessert, whatever you want.”

Halting, she tilts her head and looks up at him. The steely look that had assessed her when he’d entered the room is gone, as is most of the smoldering passion when their kiss had broken. It still lingers in his eyes, simmering behind the hope that made them glitter.

“You’ll answer any question?” she asks, smiling at the way he eagerly nods. “Is your name really Sy?”

“Yes. Well, technically. Syverson’s my last name, so Sy’s just a nickname.”

“And your first name? You started saying something else when you came in.”

“No, that was… I was in the army for a couple of years,” he explained, pulling up one of the sleeves of his shirt to show an army insignia tattooed on his bulging bicep. She bites her tongue, wondering if he had any other tattoos on his body, almost missing when Sy continues speaking, “-made it to captain before I got my honourable discharge. Just became a force of habit to introduce myself as Captain Syverson.”

“So, you’d bring one of your army buddies as your character reference?” She slows down to a stop, clasping her hands in front of herself. “I suppose now that you’re out of the army they wouldn’t feel as compelled to make you look good.”

Sy mirrors her, feet shoulder-width apart and hands clasped in front of him, and yeah, now she can see it, the posture. Definitely army guy. “No, no, god no! The guys in my unit would sooner throw me under the bus if I asked them to vouch for me in front of a pretty lady.”

“Oh, then who’d get the honour?” she asks, blushing at his compliment.

“When you signed in, there was a girl, right? Brown hair?”

“Abigail.”

“Abby,” Sy says, glancing back towards the building. “She’s my sister. Talked me into coming today, said they needed more people.”

“She must have something major hanging over you if she got you to agree to this.” Her voice is light, joking a she inches closer to him.

“Well…” Sy drawls, taking a step forward and gently grasping her hand, “I was promised a really good kiss.”

“A really good kiss, huh?”

Just like before, he makes the first move, hooking his finger under her chin and holding her still while he closes the space, capturing her lips in another kiss. It’s searing, slowly setting her afire, and she wants it, wants him, wants everything he’s giving and everything he’s offering. He keeps it short, and she can feel herself get up on her tippy toes to get more, and damn him. Damn him, damn him, damn him. She bites her lower lip.

“So how about that date, huh, darlin’?” Sy husks out, and fuck, she can hear the smile in his voice.

“I can pick the place?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And I can pick the time?”

“Any time you want.”

She reaches out, puts a hand on his neck, drags her fingers along warm skin and pulls him down to whisper in his ear.

“Your place. Right now. And dinner… is on me.”

[nyxdelanuit]

We Should Get Jerseys Cause We Make a Good Team (Noya x F! Reader)

I love you more!!! Thank you for helping me with my writers block <3 

I am forever desperate for feral Noya, I hope you enjoy it 

Obviously NSFW below~

Your hands ran over the hem of your skirt, nervously tugging the material over your thighs. It was shorter than you were used to, but you had a good source telling you that it’d work for your purpose. The top you wore had come from the same person. Tanaka had caught onto your crush on your close college friend, Nishinoya Yu. Tonight he had a big game, the last one of the season, and there would be people there scouting. You wanted to go and support Noya and maybe this time you’d have the guts to confess or ask him out for coffee. Tanaka supported you wholeheartedly after Noya had introduced you to each other, proclaiming himself the best wingman for his bro. A few texts and measurements sent out to some of his and Noya’s other friends, and this outfit landed in your hands the night before the game.

You hoped Noya would like the top. They had dug around a bit at their high school, an easy feat when they were still in contact with the volleyball coach, and found one of Noya’s old jerseys hiding away in the club room. A few alterations, and it was now fitted to your body like a second skin. The flush rode high on your cheeks as you surveyed all of the bare skin it allowed. As much as you worried the fabric between your fingers, you trusted Tanaka when he said Noya would be more than happy to see you in his jersey.

You felt a little more nervous as you quickly shuffled through the building, trying to find the seats Tanaka had saved for you. People were still filtering in, the teams warming up on the court. You could almost feel the stares of people around you, but you ignored them in favor of the libero stretching out his lean legs on the court. It was difficult to tear your eyes away from the way his muscles strained under his skin and how his arms, as lithe and littered with bruises as they were, radiated an unseen strength.

The seats started to fill quickly now, causing you to claim your seat. Not that you thought you’d be using it much. Your nerves caused the time to flow by quickly, and you barely the game starting until the whistle was blown. With that jolt to your system, you flew to the railing, watching the first serve of the game. Truth be told, you didn’t know all that much about volleyball. That didn’t make it any less impressive to watch. Noya hadn’t been called into the game yet, and you noticed smugly that the bench he stood in front of was almost directly below you.

You had been to enough games for Noya to know when he would be called in. Before he walked off, you called out his name. For a moment, you thought it would be lost in the murmur of the crowds, but Noya craned his head back to glance at you. At least that’s what he meant it to be. If you thought you could feel the stare of the random passers-by before, Noya’s stare felt like red-hot fire on your bare skin. His jaw clenched and he met your eyes with the same hardened stare you had only seen him use during a game when it was match point and he was the only thing standing between his team and defeat. It sent a shiver down your spine, but you couldn’t tell if it was out of apprehension or lust.

Any game you had seen him play before was shadowed by his performance today. You were blown away at the speed and precision Noya displayed. As focused and happy he seemed during his plays, the glint you saw in his eyes never faltered. Luckily this seemed to be helping him, as you saw the scouts hurriedly scribbling notes every time Noya dove for the ball. Your cheers grew louder, trying to not be lost in the roar of the crowd around you. Some people were chanting for the school, but only Noya’s name fell from your lips. Each time he would step off the court, his eyes would lock onto yours. His easygoing smile was gone, just a deep darkness in his eyes. Nervousness bubbled up from within you, what if he was mad at you for showing up wearing his old jersey? Tanaka said it’d be a good idea, but what if Noya wanted it as a memento? You frowned a bit, trying to keep up your cheers as the night went on.

The cheers of the team and the crowd around you rang in your ears as Noya dug out the spike from the opposing team. A quick set and well-placed spike was all it took for Noya’s team to win the last set. It was almost embarrassing how little the ball had touched the ground when Noya was on the court. It almost seemed like Noya’s body was vibrating with how tense he was during the lineup. Tanaka made his way to your side once Noya’s team started to huddle for their meeting. The mischievous grin plastered on his face intensified the nervous butterflies in your stomach.

“So how’d ya like the game?” His question seemed innocent, but the tone laced through it was anything but.

“It was great! Noya was on fire tonight.” You gushed to him with a smile.

“Yeah, Noya seemed particularly focused tonight.” He leaned in as if it was some sort of secret between the two of you. Your eyes flitted to Noya, the frustrated smile on his face making you laugh quietly. The scouts had stopped him on his way out, and although he had been excited for their presence earlier, you could see the frustration radiating off of him. His eyes traveled up to meet yours and you could see how he started talking faster, nodding, and trying to move around the people huddled in front of him. Tanaka followed your line of sight, smirking as he saw Noya. With a wave to a desperate-looking Noya, Tanaka slung an arm around your shoulder and led you out of the stands.

“Alright, we gotta get out of here before he kills me.” Tanaka chuckles. You wanted to hesitate, wait for Noya, but with the looks you had been getting all night you figured it might be best if you went with Tanaka.

Noya’s high school team was planning to meet up after the match and Tanaka had assured you Noya would show up sooner or later. It was a little intimidating being paraded around and introduced to all these people who were important to Noya without him being there. Luckily Tanaka did most of the talking for the two of you, allowing you to easily slip from the room and into the hall when your phone rang. Noya’s contact picture flashed on your screen and you couldn’t help biting your lip while wondering if you should answer. Your free hand fidgeted with the hem of your skirt again, but before you could answer you were pulled into the kitchen.

Noya had pressed you against the counter separating the kitchen from the rest of the room. His arms framed your body as he leaned over you, chests brushing. With slow movements, he pulled the phone from your hand, placing it on the counter behind you.

“I don’t know what you were thinking, wearing my jersey to such an important game.” His eyes peered into your own, the glowing brown eclipsed by the expanding pupils. It made your stomach flip, you were still unsure how he felt.

“I thought you’d like it.” Your voice was a mere whisper against your lips. You dazedly wondered if he could feel the brush of your words against his lips too, with how close he was.

“So you wore this to catch my attention? Distract me? I never thought you were so naughty.” Noya’s lips pulled up into a smirk as he trailed his hand over your bare thighs, sending a tremor through your body. You desperately tried to ignore the heat gathering both on your face and between your legs and give him an answer. Noya wasn’t known for being that patient though.

Electricity coursed through your veins as he captured your lips roughly with his. The taste of his favorite sports drink hung heavily on his tongue as he swiped it across your lips, urging you more than asking for entrance. Your body gave in willingly, wrapping your arms around his neck and tangling your fingers in the hair at the base of his neck. Noya only pressed you harder into the unforgiving counter, his hips flush against yours only highlighting the hard length straining against his shorts.

He pulled away from you, panting heavily against your neck as his hands wandered up your thighs. You whined as he pulled his hips from yours only to slide his thumb between your legs. The hands splayed over your hips prevented you from leaning into his touch, feather-light as he caressed the sticky sweetness coating your panties. Lips attached to your neck with a groan as he spread it around, nimbly avoiding the places you wanted him most.

His lips left your neck wet and stinging, his breath cooling the reddening skin. “Did you pick that seat on purpose? I could see everything from where you stood. I had to stop myself from running up there and bending you over the railing where everyone could see you.” You whimpered from his words, fingers sliding under wet fabric to ghost over your heat.

With no warning, Noya pulled away and spun you to face the counter. He was instantly upon your body, grinding against you ass. You braced yourself on the granite, the cool stone sapping the heat from your body in a grounding way. Noya’s hands grasped the backs of your thighs as he dropped to his knees. You tried to crane your neck back to see him, but he simply slid a hand up your back, urging you to keep yourself pressed against the counter.

Noya littered a rushed trail of kisses and bites up your thighs. His patience was worn too thin to draw this out, not to mention the room filled with his friends just down the hall. Hands on your calves urged your legs apart, making you lean on your forearms to keep steady. You felt the heat radiate off of him as he placed himself between your legs, kneading the skin just under your ass. Eager fingers pulled your panties to the side and Noya took a moment to appreciate the way your slick coated everything it touched. With a whispered curse, he dove into your heat furiously. His lips and tongue covered every part they could touch, his eagerness making up for the lack of technique. An earnest growl fell from his lips, vibrating against your core and pulling a keening breath from your lungs. You instantly brought a hand to your mouth, relaxing slightly as the noises from the hall continued uninterrupted.

Once Noya got a good first taste, he became more focused. He sunk further down on his knees, letting a hand travel up your ass and squeezing harshly. His tongue traced your opening, dipping in to gather your essence. It was messy and rushed, but you didn’t think anything else would suit Noya. You could feel everything dripping down and onto Noya’s face, but it only seemed to drive him further. His fingers came up to sink into your heat as he pulled back to breathe, his sharp pants hot on your sensitive skin. While his fingers curled and scissored within you, Noya took the chance to sink his teeth into the skin he had been previously gripping just under your ass. You took a knuckle in between your teeth, trying not to cry out at the blunt scrape of his teeth or the way his fingers expertly found the most sensitive spots inside you. He pulled his fingers from you, stopping you as your body tried to follow. You didn’t get a chance to miss the stretch of his fingers before he returned his tongue to you, rubbing his messy fingers in tight circles over your clit.

You were lost in his ministrations and almost cried out as he slowed, but the telltale sounds of footsteps coming down the hall stopped you. In an effort to hide what was going on, you grabbed your phone from the counter and shoved your face into the screen.

“Hey, are ya doing okay?” Tanaka stood on the opposite side of the counter, staring down at you with a worried expression. You nodded your head, hoping your smile was convincing. “Oh, I see what’s going on here.” He grinned at you mercilessly. Your face fought between the growing flush from Noya still buried between your legs and blanching from the thought that Tanaka may know what was going on. “I can tell by the look on your face. You just got a call from Noya, didn’t you.” You wanted to sigh in relief but in the lull of conversation, Noya ground his fingers harshly against your clit. The breath caught in your throat and you desperately tried to play it off. Tanaka thankfully took this as a confirmation and laughed. You weren’t sure how long you could keep this up.

Some merciful god took pity on you, your ringtone breaking through the next question Tanaka wanted to ask. You glanced at the screen, seeing Noya’s picture while you felt his smirk against your folds. He swiped at your clit roughly, making you rush to answer his call.

“Sorry, I n-need to take this.” You winced at the shake in your voice, but Tanaka’s grin only grew as he retreated back down the hall. Once you couldn’t hear his steps, Noya redoubled his efforts. You collapsed onto the counter, clinging to the sheer surface. His fingers and tongue swapped, laving his affection over your clit before sucking it between his teeth. His fingers pistoned in and out of you at a pace you couldn’t follow, but you tried your best to buck back into his hand. His groans resonated through your core, and underneath all the lewd sounds you could hear the way he fisted himself underneath you. Imagining the way he knelt beneath you, his hand roughly palming his cock and sucking your clit had you unraveling. You couldn’t help the squeal that escaped around your knuckle as your legs threatened to give out. Noya pulled back just far enough to lap at the slick pouring from you, his fingers still caressing your thrumming walls. Watching you flutter around his fingers was enough for him to spill his release all over the floor.

It took a few moments for the two of you to regain yourselves, panting heavily into the chill air. Noya was the first to recover, placing gentle kisses over every inch of bare skin he could reach as he stood. He took the time to straighten out your clothes, returning everything to its proper place, before searching for something to clean up the mess. A few paper towels later and he was satisfied with his clean-up job and you were confident enough that you weren’t going to collapse the moment you stepped away from the kitchen.

Noya slung an arm around your shoulders, maneuvering you down the hall. To your horror, he passed by the entrance to the bathroom and instead steered you into the room with all of his friends.

“Hey guys, sorry I was late! I hope you haven’t scared away my girlfriend yet.” He was back to the impish Noya you were used to, the hunger you had seen was sated for now.

“Girlfriend?!” One of his friends called, his hair wild around him with stars in his eyes. You were also surprised by this, arching an eyebrow at Noya. He merely shot a grin to Tanaka, who returned it wholeheartedly.

“Well, yeah, she’s wearing my jersey, isn’t she?” He boasted as if that explained everything.

The two of you wandered the small party for a short time, Noya telling you stories of each person as they passed. Although he was acting just as hyper and cheerful as always, you saw the glint starting to return to his eyes and the way his hands would wander under your skirt to the hem of your panties. Each time you would blush and squirm, and he’d brag to whoever was listening about how cute his shy girlfriend was.

Noya got tired of the games though, and one spilled drink offered his way out. You halfheartedly dabbed at the damp material sticking to your skin, but Noya dragged you to the door by your arm before you made much progress.

“My place isn’t far, I’m going to make sure she gets into some dry clothes.” He called to his friends with a wave. Maybe you’d actually get dry clothes at some point tonight.

Doubtful.

[inlovewithbuddyaurinko]

Vesbud First Meeting

“Aurinko. You’ve got something of mine. I’d like it back. How about you toss it here and we forget this ever happened, besides, didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to steal from the less fortunate?.”

Everyone knows and loves a meet-cute, but our favorite space lesbian moms had a meet-violent. For femslash February, an elaboration of the scene described in Vespa’s wedding vows with some of the author's artistic license thrown in.

co-written with @chobiwolf​

It had been a rough day for Vespa after a rough couple years. She’d managed to get a good steal in and had enough of a score in her pocket to drink the next two nights away without any concerns. It beat the previous few months of staying out of the way of any law authorities, it definitely beat being thrown in prison, only to be released by that...she shook her head, she couldn’t get caught up in dreaming about that near-magical laugh that would creep into the corners of her mind at any moment she wasn’t otherwise occupied.

The bar was nice, nicer than Vespa had any right to, but it was the only place that had a transport lift and at the moment, Vespa was out of any mode of transportation sturdier than a hijacked hovercycle. The number of people packed into the room, the walls practically shaking with the beat of the music being blasted over the hidden speakers hid the gangly woman easily out of the way in a corner to avoid judgemental glares of patrons dripping in the finest of venusian silks and velvets.

Buddy Aurinko thought she'd find her mark here, or a drink at the very least. Even though it had been years since the prison break, Buddy spotted her the moment she walked into the bar. Vespa Ilkay looked the same. It was like years of crime and a hard life hadn't done a thing to knock her down. This was a whipcord of a woman with a shock of razor cut green hair. She may have been huddled over a drink but she radiated fierceness. That quality was exactly what Buddy was here for. That... or a large sum of money and a drink with a cute girl. This was really win-win for her.

She slid into the seat beside Vespa, a drink in hand already. "Can I buy your next round, darling?"

Vespa jumped, face heating up when she realized that someone had managed to sneak up from behind, her hand going to a knife at her side before she laid eyes on the most beautiful woman in the whole damn galaxy. That same woman placed a tentative hand on the arm that had started to shift back to what was, undoubtedly, a knife.

“Oh uh, you don’t have to do that, I can pay my own way even if I don’t look like it.” was the stuttered reply, flicking her eyes over the frankly impressive form sitting next to her. “But I wouldn’t be opposed if you were to join me?”

"No, no, I won't hear of it, and I never repeat myself so don't make me ask again." Her demeanor was not overly friendly. But she angled herself towards the woman in a way that put their shoulders close enough to feel the heat coming off of eachother. "Why, I'm of the opinion that a dashing woman such as yourself should never have to buy herself a drink again." With her smile and the near panic in Vespa’s eyes, Buddy realized she would have to try and smooth things over quickly to prevent a bolt from the bar.

"So what do you say to one round? Your drink looks a bit more like salad than alcohol and I happen to know a few good options around here." She did a once over of the bar seemingly opening herself to a blindspot and making her appear a bit more genuine, though most of what she said was exactly the truth. Oh the trouble she could cause with this one… "Bartender!" A grizzled person who looked like they had less compassion than a swarm of rangian mosquitoes took her order, "Yes, and two of those please, one extra strong for the lucky lady. Oh, and in case it’s not clear: mine should be the strong one since I do seem to be a very lucky lady." She winked at Vespa.

Vespa should’ve kept a higher guard up. She shouldn’t have so readily allowed this woman to completely disarm her, but boy, this woman, this woman was the prettiest, fastest talking, most vivacious human she had never seen. The blush never quite left her face.

"So what brings you to this fine establishment?” Buddy gestured a bit vaguely to their surroundings.

Vespa’s hand didn’t quite leave her knife, but her shoulders lost the tension that had been carried there since she first sat down hours ago. She wouldn’t consider herself one for romance, but this woman....this woman could convince her that maybe a little wouldn’t be too bad. She’d never gotten a drink bought for herself before, and stared with eyes wide in surprise. “Uh just, you know, a place to hang around. What about you? You look like you belong here more than I do. Like I should be watching you in a stream, not, not have you next to me here.”

A bright laugh bubbled out of Buddy. She had never been a stranger to compliments, but she turned quickly to grab their drinks as a distraction from the slight heat she felt flush in her cheeks.

"Here we are! And who knows maybe I am on some stream somewhere," she smiled knowing it was likely Neptune's most wanted or something to that effect, "but I've certainly found this place just as cozy as you have.” The bar was probably the opposite of cozy, it would be listed in the dictionary with the word ostentatious.

“Perhaps even more so since there definitely wasn't a pretty girl at the bar when you came in." She put on a bit of drama, "Oh my, unless there was! Look at me: I've known you for 10 minutes and already a homewrecker. The shame of it! Well, I say shame but I can't actually find a single iota of it in me. So tell me, are you, in fact, here with someone, darling?" She paused to take in Vespa desperately trying to keep up with her manic speech. Buddy sipped from her drink to keep herself from talking more. Maybe she was a bit more nervous than normal. Marks weren't normally this— well this adorable, this dashing, this capable! That last one she was about to test.

Vespa cleared her throat, voice suddenly raspy with nerves. “No. Uh, no, just, just me here.” This woman really did talk a lot and her own head was slightly spinning. “I think I prefer the seat occupied by you instead of it being empty.” She attempted to flirt, cringing slightly at herself at how awkward it sounded. “Uh, Sorry, I didn’t catch your name. It’s gotta be as pretty as you?”

Buddy flashed a smile at her, wide and genuine at Vespa's incredibly honest way of flirting. "The name's Buddy," here she leaned in close and whispered, "and since you aren't here with anyone at the moment, would you like to be, miss…?" she trailed off hoping the other would also supply her name. By now the two of them had slid much closer and the hand she originally had on her knife arm had moved up to the woman’s far shoulder.

“Ilkay.” Vespa blurted out, cheeks tinged a deeper pink still. “Vespa Ilkay. Nice to meet you Buddy.” Her skin was covered in pinpricks where Buddy’s arm was around her, like every single nerve was standing on their head. She felt hot and hoped that she didn’t seem as nervous as she felt. Buddy was leaning in so close that it was like there were only two of them in the whole world.

"Vespa Ilkay…" Buddy knew that name, and she knew ultimately why she had come to 'run into' her, and yet here, face to face, she felt a nagging almost-girlhood crush from her 'tag along with dad to work days'. None-the-less the words slipped off her tongue like silk and she found her drink abandoned as she focused on the woman's face. All harsh, strong edges, and softening honest blush. Hair knocked loose from its gelled, spiked style by the constant shaking head and flustered denial of compliments.

She just couldn’t help herself, what was a little more distraction for one night after all? She brushed Vespa's hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. Her other hand had come to rest comfortably at the middle of Vespa's back now, trailing lazy circles with her thumbnail. "Why, darling you look positively feverish!" For emphasis she put the back of her hand on Vespa's forehead, "Hm, well I'm no doctor, but maybe another drink would cool you down? Or… maybe you want to get out of this place with me? I could show you an exciting time to be sure.”

Vespa would have passed out right then and there, Buddy's voice like a purr in her ears. She could’ve died and been perfectly happy. The hand on her back felt like it was shooting electric currents into her spine. The only way to make sure she didn’t melt into more of a mess was by running through in her head all the most easily breakable bones in the human body. She ran a hand through her hair, unable to imagine that this was real, it must be impossible, she had to be dreaming.

“I’m fine, I’ll just need a moment.” She straightened up her back, going-anywhere with Buddy sounded amazing. But no, she couldn’t. That was too much. “I’ll get out of here eventually.”

Buddy leaned back and the previous closeness had her wearing quite a dark flush herself. She felt the heat in her face and rather hoped it didn't clash with her hair. A ridiculous thought, one that made it clear that she was flustered herself, though she'd never admit it. She reeled herself in. She was a bit dismayed the rest of her night would not be spent with a companion, but the evening was not a total loss: there still was the money she was here to steal, now, there was just the matter of actually taking it.

Buddy breathed in and looked around trying to feign a bit of embarrassment, eyes cast down with a demure flutter of eyelashes. "I hope you'll forgive me for being so forward. It's not often I come across a lady like you." She looked up, making purposeful eye contact with a visibly flustered Vespa.

"Miss Vespa Ilkay, I do hope we see each other again." She leaned so far forward she saw the panic from the other that this was a kiss. It was not. Her lips brushed the other woman's cheek and she whispered, "Sooner rather than later if you can." She did then press a chaste kiss to Vespa's jawline as she slid out of her seat leaving a hint of brilliant red in her wake. The close contact made it easy to slip the card from Vespa's pocket into her own hand. She stood up fully and cleared her throat. "I do believe I may need to go to the powder room though, so... dear?" She turned Vespa's face to her own delicately, "Do take care of yourself."

Buddy went to the restroom of the bar that she knew had a broken window and a solid escape plan. She had left behind merely one thing besides the lipstick on Vespa's face. One thing in the form of a note written on a napkin. It would probably take Vespa a while to notice it if she noticed it at all. But it read as follows:

Wonderful doing business, darling. Sorry those drinks ended up being so expensive for you. But I did not lie to you, I do want to see you again…. If you can catch me.

--Buddy Aurinko

Vespa Ilkay was love struck. There was no other way to put it. She sat with her drink in her hands, once again staring down at the countertop, but this time, with a fond little smile on her face.

She was convinced that never before had anyone captured any heart so quickly as Buddy had wormed her way into her brain. There wasn’t anything more Vespa wanted than to drag her off to that damn washroom she said she was headed and kiss their brains out against the door, an activity she hadn’t felt motivated to do with anyone before. She looked down at her hand where it had dabbed at the mark on her cheek, a perfect mirror of Buddy’s lips in the palm of her hand. The red lipstick seemed to glow against her own skin.

20 minutes later and the bartender was glaring at her and making snarky comments about buy another or get the fuck out.

Vespa wasn’t particularly looking forward to going to find some dark corner to fall asleep in, but if it had to be done it had to be done. She reached into her pocket for her score to pay for all her drinks and she froze. It was gone. All of it. All that was left was a damn note. She cursed aloud. Scanning over the note, she then cursed her dumb heart for stupidly skipping a beat, dammit, even Buddy’s damn handwriting was gorgeous. Thankfully, there were just enough creds to pay for both their fucking drinks stuffed into her boot she could use. It now meant though that she would have no safety net if something were to go wrong, or even another way off the planet.

She stormed out of the bar, figuring that damn woman couldn’t have gotten far. She went towards the more crowded, better lit part of town. Aurinko clearly knew what she was doing. And someone as fabulous as her could blend in among a crowd more easily than in the dark and shadows. Finally, after what felt like forever of running, she spotted a shock of bright red hair at the opposite end of the street and started to push people out of her way as she was running towards her.

Meanwhile, Buddy slipped through the crowds like a fish through water. She flipped the card a few times in her hands before pocketing it in a holster on her thigh. Sure she turned a few heads here and there but she knew how to disappear when she wanted. Right now she was a bit careless though, having just wooed a pretty lady and gotten the score of the decade, and with barely any work on her part.

Suddenly, she heard a disturbance behind her and glanced back to see that same vivid green hair poke out through the crowd as Vespa not so much ran as plowed her way through the crowd. Buddy smirked, my this one did catch on fast didn't she? Buddy broke into a sprint and rounded a corner into an abandoned alleyway. She only stopped there briefly to remove her heels to make her tracks harder to follow as she crossed through to another backstreet.

The alley Buddy disappeared down of course connected to another side street that Vespa cursed out everyone who had ever worked on it from their first to last breaths of their lives. Her thick boots kept her from completely falling over as she made the sharp turns necessary and though she lost easy sight of the red hair that she had before, she managed to spy it again part way down the next street. “AURINKO!” She shouted off after Buddy, heads turning to look at what the commotion was. A sober Vespa would not have brought so much attention to herself, or to her target. A sober Vespa could slide between people and shadows with not so much as a whisper of clothing brushing against each other. Knives could disappear into backs before the glint of steel was seen, bodies would hit the floor, dead from poison before taste was processed by the tongue. But now, Vespa Ilkay was on a manhunt, willing to slash and burn in a fight against Buddy Aurinko. So,it was normally not a very good thing to draw attention to oneself if you were trying to stay unnoticed, but she wasn’t letting her get away with her score and only way off this miserable planet.

Buddy smiled to herself as she turned another sharp corner into an alley that would take her up a side fire escape and up out of Vespa's reach. But when she got there the stairs were out of sight. A quick glance around showed her their charred remains clinging half-heartedly to the building's side above her. She heard Vespa yell her name and knew she had no time to escape.

“Shit."

Profanity did not become her and she certainly would refrain more were she in anyone's company, but as it was she had no one around to hear her… Thank goodness for that. Though that would not be the case soon. She didn't have a blaster on her and she really would rather not use that on Vespa anyway, so she drew her knife from one of her many thigh holsters and readied herself for a fight.

Turning the corner, Vespa skidded to a stop, knife drawn already and barely caught herself from falling over from the sudden cease of movement when she saw Buddy trapped there at the end of the alley. She grinned, the expression dark and proud, teeth looking more like razors. This was a woman who had fought through blood and liked it.

“Aurinko. You’ve got something of mine. I’d like it back. How about you toss it here and we forget this ever happened.” Buddy looked to be illuminated from the shaft of light spilling over the buildings around her, making her hair look like flames. She still looked strong and steadfast, Vespa knew that this fight wouldn’t be as easy as it may have appeared to be, and only one of them would be walking out of that alley. And Vespa was willing to place money that it was going to be herself.

"I'm afraid that won't be happening today, darling." Buddy flashed a grin of her own, winsome and daring. She took the opportunity then to throw her heels at the woman who not only held an impressive dagger but was glaring them at her as well. Vespa rushed at her. Despite the small space, Buddy was able to parry and roll to her left, deftly avoiding the attack. This was certainly the most fun she had had in years.

The heels were certainly a clever ruse, but Vespa ducked them, internally tsk-ing that they were going to get scratched, Buddy didn’t seem like the kind of person to do that to her clothes, not that Vespa cared, of course.

The run at Buddy still left Vespa with her back to the entrance, she wasn’t born yesterday of course. But she couldn’t help but admire how cleanly Buddy dodged her knife. Nothing that could be considered aggressive was being done yet, they were still circling, feeling the other out.

“Those are my creds, not yours.Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to steal from the less fortunate?” She made another quick swipe at Buddy’s bust line which forced her to take a hop back, though still with plenty of room between them.

Buddy laughed breathlessly at the exhilaration of their fight. They were both so evenly matched that it was more dance than confrontation. She hadn’t felt like this since the day she ruined her fathers prison, just because she could. The day she had first seen Vespa Ilkay.

In her distraction, Vespa got the drop on Buddy and tackled her. Getting the wind knocked out of her chest stunned Buddy enough that when she regained her concentration a split second later, Vespa’s very sharp blade was at her throat, and she felt a small trickle of blood run down the nape of her neck. She still had a hand on her own knife though, and she angled the blade up towards the woman on top of her. She couldn't help but start laughing again, breathless, overtaken, and evenly matched. She looked into the woman’s eyes above her as she tapped the blade to her abdomen.

Vespa was about ready to drive the knife through her, not enough to kill her, someone so beautiful didn’t deserve that. But it was just so she could take her creds and go, but that laugh. It floored her.

She knew that laugh. That was the laugh that saved her. The fiery shock of red hair she only managed to get a glimpse of when she ran.

The starstruck woman didn’t even notice the knife running along her side, a dangerous position she would never allow anyone to get her into in any other situation. The thin blade lightly skimming over her shirt next to her skin sent shivers down her spine. Just, Buddy’s eyes. They were like pools she could get lost in.

It was the most unattractive, ungraceful thing that. Just-just staring down at the woman beneath her, mouth agape. “You-you were the one at the prison. You saved me.” Vespa collapsed one side to roll off of Buddy, still staring at her in shock, unable to process what just happened.

Buddy breathed a sigh of relief as Vespa rolled off of her, and they both lay there on the dusty ground of the alleyway, staring at an alien sky.

“I suppose I was, and I did.” Her voice was nostalgic and drawn out.

She pulled the card with Vespa’s score stored in it from her hoster and held it up above them, an outlined rectangle dangling from elegant fingers standing out against the artificial atmosphere, “Well, we seem to be doing all right for ourselves solo, but don’t you think we’d be better as a pair?” She smirked. Buddy turned her head to face the other woman and smiled at her, no wit, no false charm, but completely genuine and a little vulnerable.

Vespa’s heart still sounded like it was beating in her ears, dazed. Her eyes flitted to the card held in the air above them. She could just reach out and take it, but she didn’t want to, it was like it would break the dream she was in. A minute passed, no sound was heard but their still heavy breathing and the faint sounds of people talking, a car driving by, the headlights casting shadows down the alley. “So?” Buddy asked again, “How about that offer to get out of this boring old dump with me?”

Vespa squeezed her eyes shut, making sure she wasn’t dreaming for the second time that night when her brain caught up to her ears. “Yeah. Yeah that sounds— that sounds great.” Vespa’s eyes opened and she turned her head to look back at Buddy. Somehow, Buddy looked even more radiant than before. Just so hopeful and full of life, like with her, the two of them had the entire universe at their fingertips. “I think a partner in crime could be good.”

[anboringday]

Tracey x Franklin: Just Friends

Summary: Tracey De Santa, a college freshman, has a crush on the most popular boy on campus, Chad Dillington. Determined to win his heart, she turns to her best friend Franklin Clinton for help. However, she never expected to start developing feelings for her best friend instead...

Word Count: 5.8k 

Tags: Fluff!! And more fluff!! Slow burn. Friends to Lovers. (Post Ending-C)

Read on Ao3 

Franklin barreled through the door of my room.

Carefully applying my eyeliner in the mirror, I glanced at him. Chiseled jaw clenched and hands balled into fists, a frown marred the space between his arrogantly shaped brows. His strong, muscled arms wired tight beneath his white T-shirt, he stood at the ready for battle.

His cognac-brown eyes searched my room from top to bottom for unknown threats. “Tracey? You good?”

“Um, duh. I’m always fine.” I returned my attention to my makeup. “I’m gonna need you to tone down some of that masculinity. It’s totally uncalled for, super distracting, and it’s ruining my good vibes—”

His warm hand came down on my shoulder. I stiffened, his eyes shrewd and accessing as they bored into me. “You sent me a text saying that you were dying, that you needed my help. You sure you good?”

His voice was soft, filled with concern. My gut kicked. Maybe I shouldn’t have sent that overly dramatic text, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I needed help. Badly. Dad was always busy doing movie director stuff, Mom was too preoccupied with shopping and yoga, and Jimmy was a complete idiot, so Franklin was the only person I could rely on.

It’s been that way for months. He picked me up from school, assisted with my homework, helped me take selfies for Bleeter, talked me through every one of my frequent mental breakdowns—he was a life saver, literally. Because he was so selflessly awesome, I decided to keep him around. Mostly because he did stuff for me, but he also had a nice personality to boot.

And we looked hella good together. Whenever we were out and about in the city, people would stop and turn their heads to gawk at our beauty. I was a celebrity after all, the sexiest girl in Los Santos according to my Bleeter stalkers. And Franklin was powerfully built, dark-haired with stunningly amber eyes. He was a man who looked absolutely gorgeous just about every day of his life. It seemed effortless for him, and I would’ve resented that if weren’t besties.  

I confessed, “I lied to get you here, okay?”

“Tracey…” Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You scared the shit outta me, girl. What were you thinking—”

“Don’t be mad. I’m sorry.” I hugged him.

The tension in his muscles relaxed beneath my touch. I took his hand and flopped down on my bed. He sat beside me, our fingers intertwined. “A’ight, Trace. I’m here now, so what’s going on with you?”

“I have news,” I smiled. “The best news. You’re not gonna believe this, but Chad Dillington asked me on a date!”

He stared at me, his expression blank.

“Well?” I tapped his shoulder. “Say something! Aren’t you excited for me?”

“Who the fuck is Chad Dillington?” he asked.

“Are you kidding me?” Energy thrumming through me, I jumped to my feet. “He’s like the hottest, most popular guy at my university! He’s a quarterback for the football team, a committed member of the Alpha Omega Theta Pi—”

“The Alpha Omega what?”

“It’s a fraternity, Frank! Chad Dillington is a big effing deal, literally every chick on campus wants to bone him. He has the prettiest blue eyes and the cutest smile ever.” I twirled on my heels. “I can’t believe he chose me of all people to go on a date with. This is so, like, amazing!”

“That’s cool, I guess.” He shrugged. “You called me over here just to tell me that?”

“No! If there’s any hope in winning Chad Dillington’s heart, I’ll need support. Your support and guidance, in particular.”

His brows furrowed. “Uh…why?”

“Because you can help me understand him! Guys know what other guys are thinking, right? You and Chad have so much in common too. You’re both around the same age, you both like getting sweaty at the gym, you both like getting high—”

“No offense, Trace, but me and that preppy ass frat boy ain’t got shit in common. I’m sorry, but I’m finna pass on this one. Maybe one of yo’ friends at school can help you.” He stood and took off for the door.

“Wait!” I swerved in front of him, blocking the exit with outstretched arms. “You’re right, there are some stuff you and Chad don’t have in common. Like, for example, he’s way smarter than you and his parents are filthy rich.”

Franklin glared a hole into me, a muscle in his jaw twitched. Yikes. Probably shouldn’t have said that.

“But you’re sane,” I complimented. “Sensible, wise beyond your years, and levelheaded. You’re playing with a full deck, Frank. That’s a rarity in Los Santos, you know? Everyone here is crazy.”

“Including you,” he snapped.

“But you love me.” I hugged his muscled arm. “You’re like the ping to my pong, the yin to my yang, the butter to my bread, the chocolate to my milkshake…”

“That was cute until you mentioned the part about chocolate. Now it’s weird.”

“Frank, you have to help me!” I pleaded desperately; my mouth set in a pout. “I’m your best friend, you can’t abandon me when I need you most. It’s not fair! I’ll hate you forever if you do—”

He smothered my mouth with his palm, silencing me. “Fine, I’ll help you on one condition. No more whining and crying like a damn baby, it’s embarrassing. Makes my ears bleed, it’s horrible.”

I smacked his hand away. “Deal. Now shut up and listen.” Standing on the tip of my toes, I spoke quietly into his ear. “Chad invited me to a masquerade ball. It’s a top secret, invitation only party the fraternity is hosting at some old, underground speakeasy—”

“Girl, why you whispering?”

“Because it’s a secret. Mom and Dad can’t know about this, they’ll freak out. Promise me you won’t tell them. You know how overprotective they are, they never let me have any fun.”

“It’s all good, relax. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Swear on it.” I rose my pinky.

“I promise.” His finger curled around mine. “So the most popular douche bag motherfucker in school invites you to an invitation only masquerade ball…”

“Could you refrain from calling him a ‘douche bag motherfucker’, please?” I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, all the cool kids are gonna be there. The party is happening this weekend. Friday night. I only have two days to prepare. This is so short notice, I haven’t even picked out a dress.”

“Hey, you could always cancel.”

“No! A date with Chad Dillington is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I can’t back out now. I have to do this.” My stomach grew queasy and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I paced the room, my fingers laced taut until my knuckles turned white. “What if I screw everything up? What if he doesn’t like me?”

Franklin appeared in front of me. I jerked to a halt, riveted to the spot as his searching gaze burned into me, glimmering with golden flecks. Lost in the intensity of his eyes, something shifted in the air between us.

As he stared back, he changed…as if the impalpable wall he kept between us began to chip and splinter. His tough, guarded demeanor crumbled before me, revealing a soft vulnerability in his eyes. A tenderness I had no clue he was capable of.

He patted my shoulder and squeezed lightly, affectionately. My skin tingled from the warm, steady pressure of his touch. “Of course the frat boy is feelin’ you,” he said softly. “He’d be crazy not to.”

My cheeks heated. Since when did he become so flattering? “You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” I mumbled.

“Nah. I mean it.” He reached into his pocket for his phone and started tapping away at the keyboard.

I peeked at the screen. “What are you doing?”

“If you’re going to a ball, you gotta know how to dance.” He pulled up a Bleeter video of dancers clad in silk doing the Waltz. “Think you can do that?”

“Uh, I dunno. Last time I tried to slow dance with a guy was at high school prom. I slipped and twisted my ankle in front of everyone. Super embarrassing.”

“Let’s make sure you don’t trip this Friday, a’ight? We can practice together.” He propped his phone on my desk and took my hand in his, the other rested on the small of my back. “You ready?”

Our eyes locked, I nodded weakly, my breath coming in short and fast. The contact was electric, I could feel the edgy energy radiating from him—like a magnetic pull that grew harder to reject by the second. He started moving, his strapping body gliding across the carpeted floor with confidence and easy rhythm. Jeez, when did he get so good at this? He was a natural! My knees wobbly, I followed his lead to the best of my ability.

I felt so small and insignificant in comparison to him, my movement stiff and awkward. And it didn’t help that I was petite, barely over five feet, and he was huge—a tall, deep brown slab of solid muscle and well-exercised strength. The force of his presence was difficult to ignore in a crowded room, and doubly so in an enclosed place like this, so close to me…  

After a few beats, the heat of his direct, prolonged gaze became overwhelming. I lowered my head shyly.

“Chin up,” he instructed, tipping my head upward with a gentle push of his thumb under my chin.

Sucking in a harsh breath from the mind-boggling intimacy, I lost my footing and tripped over my own feet. He caught me in his arms just before I collided with the floor, his strong-featured face hovered over mine. Hit with all that striking masculinity at eye-level, I could only stare. Stunned. His beard was well-groomed, complimenting the hard lines of his square cut jaw, and his lips were like the icing on the cake…the fullness gave his rugged good looks the perfect touch of sensuality.

He helped me to my feet. “That wasn’t part of the dance, Trace.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Pinching my lips together, I kicked a tube of old nail polish across the floor. “I’m never going to get this right. I’m so screwed.”

“It ain’t the end of the world. You still got time. Don’t give up, girl.”

“I wish I could be as optimistic as you are.” I sighed. “I’m sorry for being a bitch. There’s a lot of pressure on me and I’m taking it out on you.”

“It’s all good. I’m used to you being bitchy. I’m used to the screaming temper tantrums—when you beat yo’ fists against the floor and your legs start flailing like a fish outta water …” He grinned.

My stomach dropped. “It’s not funny.”

His laughter quickly faded. “My bad.”

An awkward silence filled the room. Twisting a finger around the hem of my blouse, I broke the quiet. “I’ve been working on my temperament with Doctor Friedlander. Do you think I’m getting any better?”

He leaned against the wall, his hands tucked casually into his jean pockets. “You haven’t had any episodes recently.”

“Because you calm me down right before I snap. Every time.”

“So why are wasting stacks on therapy, then? You’ve been seeing a therapist for what? Years? And you were still having panic attacks until…”

“Until you came along,” I completed his sentence. “I don’t want to become so dependent on you, Frank. It’s like, totally unfair to you.”

“Shit, I don’t mind. I ain’t going nowhere, unless you want me to—”

“No!” My heart lurched at the thought of losing him. Shocked by the fury of my reaction, I took a careful step away from him. “You wouldn’t leave me. You’d miss me too much.”

He stared at me for a moment, silent and thoughtful, his brow quirked.

I tensed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Uh, no reason.” He lifted the brim of his black Los Santos snapback to scratch his head. “I should probably bounce. It’s getting late, and you got class in the morning.”

“Wait.” I passed him his phone and gave him a brief good-bye hug. “Do you think you could give me some guitar lessons after school tomorrow? Music class is kinda kicking my ass. I could use the extra help.”

“Yeah. Of course. No problem.” He chuckled, seemingly nervous for some reason. “I ain’t the best with the guitar, but uh, I know a few things so…”

“Are you kidding? You’re way better at it than me.”

“Slightly better.” His teeth gleamed in a smile. “A’ight. I’ll hit you up tomorrow.”

I was a little bummed about him leaving, but he was right. I needed the rest so I could wake up bright and early tomorrow. I returned a smile. “Bye, Frank.”

“Bye, Trace.” He turned to leave but stopped at the door, his gaze shifted to me. “By the way, you don’t have to lie to get me here. You ain’t gotta send no dramatic texts or nothin’ crazy like that. If you need to see me, whatever the reason, just…call. I’ll be here in a heartbeat.” 

A pang struck my heart. I swallowed deep, fumbling for words. Before I managed to find my words, he was gone.

With a heavy sigh, I collapsed on my bed. What was the matter with me? Why were my brain cells starting to fry around Franklin? I had a huge date planned with Chad Dillington, but for some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about my best friend.

My phone vibrated on my nightstand. I grabbed it and found two new texts from Franklin.

Still thinking bout how tripped over your own damn feet earlier.

Girl, you clumsy.

Oh my god. With an embarrassed grin, I texted him back; Wow. You sure know just what to say to boost a girl’s confidence :P

He responded a minute later. What if I told you that I like when you’re clumsy? I get to pick you up whenever you fall.

I read the message with wide eyes and then powered down my phone, my nerves danced wildly in my stomach. There was an ache in my chest, and I rubbed at it. Jeez. Pull yourself together, Tracey…

Read more on Ao3

[from-the-ashes-au]

Chapter One

Months had gone by since the twins had seen their doppelganger on the news, and the two had made little progress on locating the man known as “jacksepticeye.” Every time it felt like they’d made some progress, something would send them back to square one. At one point, Marvin was fully prepared to teleport them to the Youtuber’s house, but on the day they had prepared to go, Jack had gone to America for some convention, and the magician didn’t trust himself to get them that far. The next time they were ready, Marv’s spell backfired, nearly sending him into a catatonic state. He had used so much of his energy just to keep himself conscious, when the next opportunity to find Jack arose, the brothers had decided to do it the old fashioned way.

“Marvin!” Jackie yelled up to the apartment from the street below. “Bro, let’s go! We’re gonna miss our train!”

He was met with silence, but he assumed his brother was already on his way down. Jackie lingered at the doorstep a minute longer, waiting for Marv to swing the door open, before starting down the street towards the station. With each footfall, he heard the distinct crunch of fallen leaves, and with each snap he grew more and more aware that he was alone. Marvin, as usual, had fallen behind, and Jackie was eager to start their journey. He made it as far as the corner, when he heard a crackle from behind him. Instinctively, he turned and swung out his leg. He felt the tip of his sneaker graze something, before it caught in someone’s hand.

Marvin let out a sharp breath. With his free hand, he brushed the edge of his nose, wiping away the muck that Jackie’s shoe had left behind.

“Your reflexes are great, but you’ve gotta work on your intuition, bud.”

Jackie pulled his foot free from his brother’s grip, causing him to stumble backwards. “I knew it was you,” he pouted, his eyes narrowed. “I was just testing your reflexes.”

The two started to bicker, and Marvin raised his hand, ready to strike. The hero easily dodged his brother’s fist, chuckling at the attempt.  The smaller brother huffed, turning his chin up in defeat. A breeze blew past them, carrying with it a familiar sound Marvin could barely recognize. He shuddered, and tried to shake the feeling it had brought. Above them, the sky opened up, unleashing a torrent of rain. With nothing to keep them dry, the pair started to jog toward the train station. By the time they arrived, the rain had lessened, and their train had begun to board. They managed to slip between the doors just before they shut, and the train let out a sharp whistle. Their journey was off to a strange start, and unbeknownst to them, it would be far from a simple one.

~

Lights off, camera off, game saved. 

Jack leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms towards the ceiling. His day had been ordinary, the majority of it spent recording videos for his channel. As usual, he had forgotten to eat since breakfast. His stomach growled knowingly as he took out his phone, placing an order for his typical late-night craving. 

Turning his attention back to his computer, Jack decided it was time to check his social media accounts. Tumblr was his first stop, full of the usual kind hearted posts and talented artwork, and then on to Twitter. His timeline was cluttered with various news outlets and fans responding to his most recent announcement: “YouTube Sensation Jacksepticeye Denies Rumors He Is London’s Masked Hero.”

A few months ago, a man in a red hood had been spotted in London, leaving petty criminals beaten and tied up in alleys. Onlookers had managed to occasionally capture grainy photos and video of the vigilante, who the internet thought bore a resemblance to Jack. The Youtuber had realized quickly that he had to make a statement, disavowing the rumors and clearing the air. He couldn’t afford to have any more negative associations with his brand, so he addressed it the only way he knew how: with a video. 

It had been generally well received, with most of the comments positive. Fans had flocked to his support, claiming that they knew Jack would never hurt anyone. Plus, as some so eagerly pointed out, Jack was in Brighton, a good enough distance away from London that he couldn’t be popping back and forth too quickly. A few statements stuck out at him, the kind of hateful comments that would usually put him in a bad mood, but this time was different. He knew he wasn’t secretly patrolling the streets of London, so he couldn’t be bothered by those who claimed he was lying. His mind started to drift, wondering how someone who looked so similar to him could be so nearby, when his thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell.

“That was quick,” he thought. Jack grabbed his wallet off the desk, and made his way to the door. Excitedly, he swung it open, ready to stuff his face with hot, gooey, greasy pizza. Unfortunately, waiting on the other side was not his cheesy delight. He felt the smile slip from his face, quickly replaced by a look of bewilderment. Standing in front of him were two identical young men. Identical to each other, and identical to him. 

The longer Jack stood there, the more differences he started to pick out. The one on the right was taller than the other, with coffee-colored hair cropped short on the sides, and the tips peeked out from underneath a grey beanie. His eyes were almost an electric blue, hidden behind a pair of rectangular glasses. He had a fresh cut over his eyebrow, the crimson color a stark contrast to his warm ivory skin. Aside from his height, nothing about him really stood out. 

On his left was the shorter of the two, whose hair was dyed a dyed a brilliant green. The roots of his hair were the color of chocolate, either untouched by the dye or had simply faded with time. It had been pulled into a loose bun, with strands that escaped falling just above his shoulders. His eyes were similar to Jack’s, a cold greyish-blue that seemingly sparkled in the dark. His figure was distinctly opposite to his partner’s, a much slimmer, willowy shape that suited his posture. His long coat hung awkwardly off his shoulders, and the collar was turned up to block the wind. 

Jack could’ve stayed there all night deciding what made each of the three of them unique, but there was the one fact that none of them could ignore: looking at each other was like looking in a mirror. The silence continued for what felt like hours, waiting for one of them to speak up, 

“You’re not pizza.” Jack had finally regained his composure.

The shorter of the two let out a breath. “And you’re not us, and yet you have our face,” he replied, pushing his way into the house.

Jack turned on his heel, grabbing the intruder by his shoulder. “H-hey hold on a minute! You can’t just come in here uninvited!” He reached out to pull him back, but his body felt like it had been frozen in place. The man turned to face him, his eyes now glowing a bright emerald color. Jack could’ve sworn they’d been blue before. From behind, the taller one sighed, then lifted Jack by his shoulders like he was weightless. He heard the door click shut behind them. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears as the tall stranger carried him into the living room, setting him down gently onto the couch. Slowly, his arms started to loosen, and he noticed that the shorter one of the pair had sprawled out across his favorite armchair. The other was perched awkwardly on the edge of the couch, watching Jack with an intense fascination.

“Who are you?” Jack demanded once his mouth could move again.

“I’m Jackie, and that’s my brother Marvin,” the taller one spoke quickly. “This was all his idea. He wanted to barge in here so you couldn’t turn us away I just wanted to talk to you like normal people but no, this drama queen had to do it the illegal way!”

The shorter one, Marvin, sat up and pointed an accusatory finger at his brother. “If we had done it your way,” he hissed, “we’d still be standing at the door like two idiots! Who in their right mind would just let two strangers into their house?!”

They started to argue, their voices slowly growing in volume, before Jack stood up, interrupting their bickering.

“Both of you, shut up! You still haven’t really answered my question: who are you? Why are you in my house?”

“Oh right, yeah,” Jackie laughed awkwardly, scratching at his head. “Marv saw you on the news and thought you were me! Which is weird, since we don’t have any other family, and you look like us.”

Marvin rose to his feet, brushing his hands off on his tattered jeans. “Yeah, that’s about it. Now we’re here to get answers.”

“Answers to what?”

Marvin started to pace the room, his feet barely making a sound as they hit the ground. “Oh, just some simple questions. Like, where were you born, what’s your real name, are you under the influence of any demons, who are your parents?”

“Wait, what was that middle one?” 

“Demons. Do you know any?”

Both Jack and Jackie turned to look at Marvin, the same expression of confusion on their faces.

“Marv, why the hell are you asking him about demons?!” Jackie exclaimed, giving his brother a puzzled look.

Marvin ignored the hero’s inquiry, and took a step closer to Jack. His duplicate flinched as he approached, watching as Marv’s hands started to spark. His eyes shone in the darkness, and Jack sat motionless, watching as his copy circled. He blinked, and suddenly, Marvin was inches away from his face.

“I will ask you again: do you know any demons?”

Jack swallowed, struggling to find his voice. “N-no, what the hell?” He finally managed.

The answer he had produced did not satisfy the magician’s curiosity. In the blink of an eye, a flame leapt up in Marvin’s hand. Jack could feel the heat on his face, beads of sweat starting to roll down his forehead. Marvin cleared his throat.

“Jack, I don’t know how else to ask you. Where is the demon?!” His eyes, this time the color of murky water, radiating an emotion Jack couldn’t quite identify.

“There is no demon! What the hell! Demons don’t exist!” Jack had had enough of the interrogation, though his voice was torn between fear and outrage.

Apparently, his response had finally been correct. The fire in Marvin’s hand dissipated as quickly as it had appeared. He held it out to Jack in surrender.

“Sorry, we had to be sure.”

Jack’s face was blank, still perplexed by the events that had quickly spiraled out of his control. “You had fire. In your hand.”

Marvin nodded.

“And...he picked me up like I was made of air...!”

Jackie nodded.

“So, can I ask a question now?” 

The twins nodded.

Jack cleared his throat. “I guess what I want to know is, what are you?”

The pair exchanged a glance, deciding how to explain themselves. Before Marvin could stop him, Jackie pulled his mask out of his pocket and set it on the table.

“I’m Jackieboy Man.”

“And I一” Marvin flicked his wrist, as a cat-shaped mask started to cover his face一 “am Marvin. Just Marvin. I’m not fancy like Jackie-boy here.

Jack’s eyes flicked back and forth between the two, before he doubled over with laughter. His eyes began to water, and he wiped the tears away with the back of his hand.

“We share....a face...” He managed between fits of laughter. “But we clearly don’t share creativity. What kind of name is ‘Jackieboy Man’?”

“I thought it was cool,” Jackie mumbled, crossing his arms defensively.

“Sure, it’s cool if you don’t give a shit about having a secret identity! You need a better name, like based on what you can do or something. What can you do?”

Jackie shrugged. “I’m fast and strong, and sometimes lightning shoots out of me. Marv’s really the cool one, if you ask me.”

“No one did ask you,” Marvin grumbled from the corner. He opened his mouth to say something sassy, when Jack interrupted his thoughts.

“How old are you guys?” He asked.

“We’re 25.”

“So you’re four years younger than me...” Jack scratched absentmindedly at his beard. 

“...and?” Marvin prompted, annoyance in his voice.

“Your age lines up with Chase’s story, and with mine.”

“Who?”

From around the corner, a familiar face poked out.

“Yo, what’s up guys?” He grinned, tipping his hat in a mock salute. “Name’s Chase. Pleased to meet ya, bros!”

[marmolady]

Rekindling

Book/Series: Endless Summer

Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f)

Summary: Just a short follow up to my New Year’s Kiss entry (which you can find here: New Year’s Kiss. Rourke ending. Some Estela x MC fluffiness, cause I’m a sucker for that shit. 

Word Count: 1776 words

Tagging: @sceptilemasterr @bbaba-yagaa @bbaba-yagaa

Taylor pulled away from the kiss first, worrying that she’d overstepped, despite the fact that it was Estela who’d initiated it. It was a bizarre feeling, to lovingly embrace her wife, as she’d done so many times before, but to have no idea if it meant to Estela what it did to her.

“Was that… okay? I don’t know why I…” Estela stopped. That wasn’t true. She knew why. She didn’t understand how- how on earth she was in love with this woman. She didn’t go around falling in love with people, opening herself up to them. But it wasn’t just memories now… she could feel it. Deep within her bones, a wonderful ache that all but overwhelmed her. And Taylor… Taylor wanted it too. Her eyebrow furrowed, she ran her fingers along Taylor’s face. God, she’s beautiful. “I think I…” Love you? Shit, shit, shit, you can’t just come out and say-

“That was… wonderful,” Taylor murmured, feeling alight at the touch. “Do you… do you remember? Any of it?”

Estela closed her eyes. “I remember. I can feel so much… as real as any memories I’ve ever had. How did I have a whole other life that I forgot? How did I forget… you? I lo-“ She caught herself. “I’m so confused.”

Before she could respond, Taylor was pushed back into the couch by a desperate hug.

“Jesus, what’s wrong with me?”

Taylor wrapped her arms around Estela, her heart simultaneously soaring at the feel of her closeness and breaking at her turmoil. This was never going to be easy. “Nothing’s wrong with you, okay? It’s just Rourke screwing with everything.”

Estela recoiled, bristling. She ran her hands through her hair. “My mom… she’s with him. She’s not safe… she’s not…”

“Hey,” Taylor said, reaching out to grasp Estela’s hand. “it’s gonna be okay.”

“You don’t know…” Estela growled.

“No… I don’t. I- I can’t promise that no one will get hurt. But… I know that we’ve got each other now, and I know we’ve beaten Rourke before. I can promise that I will fight for you, and for everyone you love, to my dying breath.”

Estela squeezed Taylor’s hand, wincing. It was all too much… she was suffocating. She’d been walloped with a whole other lifetime’s worth of emotions, and it was turning into a sharp physical pain in her head. Feeling it all come back; the happiness she’d felt with her friends and with Taylor, a warming blast of sunshine that she didn’t know she’d missed… and the realisation of how much danger her mother was in, how she was so far away with her life in the hands of a man who’d had her murdered by a trusted friend… it was just too much. She had to do something, but the sheer overwhelm of lost memories left her in a raging storm that she simply couldn’t fight. Her free hand tightly holding her head, willing the sudden, crippling pain to stop, she cried.

Her heart wrenching, Taylor reached out, holding onto Estela, pulling her close, loving her. “I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered. She didn’t know if she’d ever hated Rourke more. “It… it’s gonna get easier. More clear. I know you’re not gonna want to… but I think you need to just be gentle on yourself and let yourself adjust.”

“Sit back when I know he has her?” Estela’s whole body trembled as she spoke.

Taylor held her tighter, realising how close they were teetering toward a very dangerous situation. “Yes.” She spoke forcefully, but her voice quickly softened. “I need you… to trust me. I know everything’s overwhelming right now… but we’ve gotta be careful about this.”

“I know that… but it feels like my head’s gonna explode. I need to do something.”

“I think for now, ‘doing something’ means getting your head straight. I get it. Really, I do. I’ve been trying so hard to reach out to you all, but it’s felt like I’m getting nowhere. You know Zahra’s in the next room? It’s been months, but she’s still closed off. I know some of it’s coming back to her, but she acts like I’m crazy. But you came here. You remembered. I just don’t think it’s possible to do this any faster. We need each other- all of us- but it’s easier said than done when no one wants to know.”

Estela became quiet. Her breathing steadied from a raging pant, and she let herself relax, slowly but surely. She was tired. Drained. She could understand why the others might resist the startling dreams and visions; to actually have allowed herself to succumb to the memories had knocked the stuffing out of her. Even now, certain as she was that everything she’d seen and felt was real, her mind was a jumble of questions, and of different realities competing. It was gut wrenching to know that she couldn’t get to her mom. Olivia had kept away, minimised contact. For Estela’s protection, that now seemed clear. Surely… surely, she’d be trying to somehow take Rourke down, to put things right. Estela had seen little of her mother growing up, for Rourke had recruited her early and made certain to keep her close. But now… now their life together, a life that the snake had taken away, had become clearer. That son of a bitch had stolen every joy from her life. Estela felt her hands curl into fists against Taylor’s back, and then once again she softened. Taylor… her Taylor was holding her. She closed her eyes, just taking in the feel of her, letting her focus be on nothing other than the scent of her partner’s skin, the comforting rhythm of her heartbeat, the touch of her fingers stroking her back.

“Taylor,” she breathed. “I’m sorry too. I wish… I wish you weren’t so alone.” Thinking back to her early indifference, annoyance even, towards Taylor was painful. What Rourke had done to her was just so… so unspeakably cruel. “I’ll help you. I don’t know how I’ll help… it was hard enough opening up to them the first time round… but I’ll do it with you. We’ll reach them.”

Taylor was looking at Estela with a gaze so warm and affectionate that it made her blush. There was a silent longing there.

Estela felt her heart thumping hard against her chest. “You can kiss me, you know. You… look like you want to. I don’t bite.”

“My love, I know it’s all still coming back to you, but I’m pretty sure you do bite.” Taylor smirked, amused as Estela’s cheeks turned a deeper red. “I, uh, I just don’t want to push you too much. This has all been… intense.”

“Kiss me. I want you to. Please.”

Caught off guard, Taylor felt her breath catch in her throat. She could feel heat radiating between them, drawing her closer and closer. Estela’s gaze was heavy with desire and it lingered on Taylor’s mouth. She tipped Estela’s face gently towards her with one finger so they were just a breath apart, and let her eyes flutter closed. Taylor pressed her lips against Estela’s… tentative at first, but powered further, harder, by the pleasurable jolt of electricity that pulsed through her body. Estela moaned against her mouth as Taylor’s tongue caressed her lip. Their arms wrapped around one another in a tangle, fingers delving into hair, hands pulling one another closer.

After an age, they came apart. Taylor leant back into the couch, grinning from ear to ear. “So… that ring any bells?”

Estela’s face was bright with the sweetest of smiles. The confusion, the fear, the agonising pain in her head… it all seemed to fall away. For now, the only thing that made sense to her was Taylor, and she had no idea why she’d spent so many weeks fighting what had always been true. “You can give me a few more reminders, if you like.”

Exhausted, she collapsed against Taylor’s chest and nuzzled in. “I need to get some sleep. I haven’t been sleeping well… all the dreams. I guess it’s gonna get worse before it gets better.”

“We’ll fix it,” said Taylor confidently. “I know with Diego it took a little while, but it’s kinda settled. He gets the odd dream, but it’s not like a constant onslaught anymore.”

“I hope so.”

“Hey… do you… do you wanna sleep with me tonight?” She added hurriedly, “I’m not pushing for anything to… er… happen, but since you’re already here and it’s late, I… I’d like to wake up with you next to me again.”

“You don’t mind someone tossing and turning next to you all night?”

“And snoring,” Taylor said with a smirk. “But that’s just how much I love you.”

They crept into the room Taylor shared with Diego. It was a cramped space, really only intended to house one student, but as Diego had begun to recall their friends and the events of La Huerta, the room had become their sanctuary. By now, he’d fallen into bed and was sound asleep. With a glance over to the slumbering Diego, Estela followed Taylor onto the other bed. Her mind wandered back to her handfasting… Diego had been there too, making his own commitment. What had Rourke done to Varyyn and his people?

Taylor made to undress and paused. “You don’t mind if I…?”

Estela took the bottom of Taylor’s shirt and carefully pulled it over her head. “Does it look like I mind?”

Stripped down to their underwear, the two women tucked themselves into bed, immediately appreciating the warmth that skin to skin contact gave them. With no prompting, Estela edged in close to Taylor’s back and nuzzled her face against her neck. She wriggled one arm around her shoulder and draped the other over her chest. The steady rise and fall lulled her into a state of quiet bliss. It was just as it had been.

“I don’t snore, by the way…” Estela grumbled into Taylor’s shoulder.

“Sure, you don’t.” Taylor gave a tired giggle and put her arm over her chest so that her fingers rested against Estela’s. “But you have any weird dreams and want to talk, just wake me up- anytime. We’re gonna get through this.” She felt Estela’s body relaxing around her, seemingly finding the same security that she was giving Taylor. “Sleep well, Estela.”

And then, the words that she’d feared she would never again hear…

“I love you, Taylor.”

Just a whisper, muffled and tired, but full of certainty and without a trace of fear. Taylor’s heart skipped a beat.

“I love you too, Estela. I always will.”

[rohobi]

Serendipity 02| (M)

pairing— jeon jungkook x reader, friendwithbenefitsAU  genre/warnings— smut, fluff, slight angst, swearing words—5, 021 ↳ CHAPTERS → CHAPTER 3

chapter 2 summary: ❝You set up camp in the pits of hell using the knowledge you gained from self-help magazines when Jungkook asks you a thought provoking question that might just change your entire relationship. ❞

“Yoongi, listen to this,” you clear your throat, prepared to read out the most ridiculous thing you had ever seen since you saw that dumbass Jungkook mazz off to a drought inducing porno. “Do you know Big John?”

Yoongi looks up from his book. “No, should I?”

“Well, put your belt on then. I’m about to take you on a crazy ride Min Yoongi’” you clear your throat, readjusting yourself against Jungkook’s headboard. “Big John is a 25 year old Pornstar from America and says he got into porn because “it became an outlet for the struggles of my reality and the idea of submerging myself into a world that both pays the bills and liberates me, is pretty fucking awesome.” When he isn’t gallivanting in the art of the clitoris, he dabbles in anal play in the neighbourhood boys series voted for best orgy series in the 2016 AVN awards.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Yoongi stares blankly at you. “I thought you weren’t interested in sex or pornstars?”

“First of all, pornstars have the most interesting lives but let me tell you the rest before I go into it Yoongi. John here, is pretty new to the biz but states that among his favourite scenes, the one he did with Ellen Love called “Eat, suck, fuck.” was the most invigorating experience he has ever had. Lucky live viewers watched Ellen, AVN 2017 Performer of the year, give the 6-foot 2 beast a blow job while eating a banana nutella sandwich. John recalls that his interest in food kink is a direct result of that particular scene. Next on the cards, John says, “I want to work more with kink. I think it’s great I can have a chance to really explore myself and to liberate these chains that try to control me.”

Jungkook opens his door with his foot, carrying both his laptop and a bowl of chips into his room. “What are you saying about blow jobs and food?” he asks, putting his computer on the bed and the bowl of chips on the night stand.

“I was just telling Yoongi about big John. The pornstar from last week…”

“Oh.” Is all Jungkook says before shoving you and Yoongi apart, squeezing into the middle.

“Yah Yoongi. Were you listening?” You look up from your phone and over Jungkook, frowning at his lack of interest. “Listen! In terms of everything else John likes, he identifies that his all time favourite thing about working as a porn star is: “Honestly, being able to eat a lot of pussy. I love eating and fucking. Pussy on my mind. Pussy all the time.”

“So?” he grunts, seemingly uncaring of your recount of the strangest bio you have ever read.

“Yoongi,” you frown, looking up from your phone to the boy beside you. “This is priceless, did you not hear what I just said?”

“What?” Yoongi looks up at you, brow raised. “What are you talking about?”

“I was listening.” Jungkook quips, getting angry at the lack of attention he was receiving tonight. “You can talk to me now instead of him.”

“Shut up Jungkook, I’m talking to stone face,” you muster, shoving his shoulder with yours. “Big John likes it when girls eat and suck his penis! How fucking crazy stupid is that?”

“So stupid,” Jungkook admits to deaf ears. “I don’t like the idea of hurting or putting someone’s wellbeing in jeopardy you know? It’s not hot.”

Yoongi snort laughs. “I don’t usually kink shame but is that even possible? How big is her mouth? Because it must be massive or this porn clip is non-existent. Actually, you know what? I’m sorry but that’s impossible, I refuse to believe that can be done.”

Dipping your hand into the bowl of chips between you, you nod. “I think she just took small bites …according to this site, it’s his kink. Apparently it increases stimulation but I don’t understand how that is even possible either,” throwing your phone at the end of the bed, you sink underneath Jungkook’s blankets as you shove the chips into your mouth. “Ssounds ffucking stupid to me, you’ve got a blood sword crammed down your throat and then you’re eating food, further reducing the patency of your airway. Sounds like a choking hazard.”

“Wait,” Jungkook stares at your profile beside him. “How are you so calm talking about this? Who the hell are you and where is my Y/N?”

“I gave her a sip of my beer and suddenly she flies off on her conservative rocket and into the pearly white stars of oral sex and porn star biography content like a crazed porn addict.”

“Shut the fuck up Yoongi, it’s like watching buzzfeed unsolved on this site. Once you start reading one, you gotta read the rest. Did you know that there are kpop idols on here too? And apparently near death experiences while sucking the D is a common delicacy on this menu among them,” You laugh, looking up at Jungkook. “Imagine if I died doing that to you Jungkook and paramedics had to tell my grandparents that I died from eating and sucking your dick.”

“I can’t imagine that at all.” he gulps, watching you swallow your food. It’s gross but he can’t help but imagine exactly that occurring -not the death of you, the blowjob happening of course.

You continue. “I can imagine what my sister would say-” staring off into the distance you deepen your voice for effect, “-living the dream sis, hope you’re sucking dick and eating in Heaven.” jesus, and then my mother would say. “She wasn’t that much of a multitasker anyway, should’ve just stuck to eating in the shower”

“Hold up,” Jungkook says, pushing his computer between you and laying on his side. “You eat in the shower?”

Rolling your eyes, you turn to face him. “Of course I do, optimum time management.”

Yoongi nods his head, appreciating the idea. Maybe he should start doing that to so he can sleep in longer. “What do you eat? Toast?”

You shake your head. “Up and Go, sometimes yoghurt with banana.”

Jungkook stares out into the distance. “That is a genius idea.”

“Thanks, I’m filled with those, especially lately.”

“How did you even come across that article anyway?” he asks, laughing as he turns to face you, propping his head up with his hand. “I thought you strictly avoided sexual content?”

You stare at him in thought. “I guess I was just interested and I’m not embarrassed around you and Yoongi and I think we can talk about anything together …unless what I am saying right now makes you feel uncomfortable… did it?”

Shaking his head, Jungkook flicks your forehead. “Nothing could make me feel uncomfortable around you. We’ve had poop chills, that’s like breaking the seal in a friendship.”

Nodding your head, you smile bashfully. “That make my hearts flutter, you ugly mole rat, ah! I could just squeeze you!” you squeal, launching yourself onto him. Digging your arms under his back, you wrap your arms around him and your feet around his hips.

Yoongi makes a tsking noise before shouting. “You’re going to spill the popcorn you assholes. Stop fucking beside me, oh my god. I want to fucking leave.”

“Then go Yoongi, I’ll see you tomorrow!” Jungkook says, staring up at you awkwardly. “What are you doing Y/N?” Jungkook asks, feeling uncomfortable with the way you were adjusting yourself on top of him.

“You just make me feel all squishy.” Rubbing your face on his collarbone. Jungkook laughs softly before wrapping his arms around your neck.

“You’re so weird Y/N,” he says, swaying your body off of his groin so that your belt buckle didn’t dig into his goods. “But okay.”

“God, you smell heavenly.” you comment, dropping your weight on him. “Why do boys smell so good? Do you smell good too Yoongi?”

“I assure you, I smell like shit. Keep smelling Jungkook,” Yoongi closes his book loudly before swinging his feet off the bed. “I guess I’ll head off now, want to get some work done in the studio before sunrise. See you rats tomorrow.”

You both watch Yoongi leave, still wrapped up in each other. It was nice being like this but now that Yoongi had gone and it was just you two, it was weird.

Carting his fingers through your hair, he lightly massages your scalp. “I’m not even wearing cologne, so whatever you’re smelling is my natural scent.”

Shifting up his body, you nuzzle your nose into his neck before laying there. You could hear the loud beating of heart and the heat radiating off his body comforted you in the cold. “I’m not even going to dignify that cockiness with a response that would validate your ego. You smell reassuring was what I meant.”

Staring at the ceiling above, he holds you close when a weird electric feeling zips suddenly throughout his body. He doesn’t know what to call it but it’s there and you’re on it. “This is nice.”

You hum your response, feeling comfort flood and straighten out the knots of stress around your body. “It is.”

“Y/N,” Jungkook whispers, feeling unsure whether to ruin the moment with a question that he knows will make you feel uncomfortable but decides to anyway. “Have you ever thought about having sex with me one day?”

You stiffen ontop of him, before lifting your head to look at him. “What.”

He lets you go as you softly lay beside him.

“I mean, yeah I have since last time but why?”

“I was just wondering if you were normal because I’ve been thinking recently….” Jungkook’s smile falters as he makes eye contact with you.

“About?”

“Letting you learn about sex by having it with me,” he musters with a straight face and the intensity of his glare tightens around your heart. “You won’t have to feel embarrassed about anything either. I know you like Yoongi more but we’re close enough right?”

“Who the hell said I liked Yoongi more?” you say, not entirely sure how one is supposed to respond to something like that.

“I thought it was obvious?” he remarks, feeling his pulse rate go up.

“Hell no, do you see me crawling all over Yoongi?”

He shakes his head. “Oh.”

“Good, get that out of your head. Look about the sex thing, I’m definitely not ready to have sex yet but I’ll let you know when I want to?” you say, grabbing your phone from the end of the bed.

“That’s fine,” he nods. “I can accept that.”

“Lol bitch, you will accept whatever is given to you regardless. Don’t give me that attitude.”

He laughs as you turn back to your phone. “I was just offering my help since it’s something I know you’ll be thinking about when you’re on a bus alone and you’re listening to Beautiful and staring out the window.”

Rolling your eyes, you stammer. “I’ve only seen your penis once Jungkook, the thought of it being inside me actually kind of terrifies me.”

“I mean, we can start off slow… oral sex? If that is something you’re comfortable exploring?”

You blush several shades of pink.

“I can eat you out too, I think it’s fair if there is a mutual thing going on. Who knows, you might even like it.”

You nod your head. You didn’t want to admit that you didn’t know what eating out meant, you’d save that for a quick google on the toilet later. “Thank you Jungkook.”

“What do you think?”

Silence festers between you as you scroll through your social media to avoid his question and Jungkook looks back at his computer in understanding, pulling it back onto his stomach. It was just another late night hang at his house but things hadn’t been the same since your masterbating event last time.

Sure, your conversations were definitely more stimulating, you didn’t have to pretend to be interested in what Jungkook was saying, he just seemed more interesting now. But it was something beneath the skin that made you feel like something had been added to your dynamic.

Or had ruined it.

You weren’t sure anymore.

Who really cares anyway.

If the camera of your life panned out bird’s eye view, the screen would be filled of your lazy ass next to his lazy ass in a platonic bed sharing space with several question marks above your head:

1. Interest in sex had changed you, and you weren’t sure if it was a bad or a good thing. 2. You feel dirty, as though the clean white sheets of your world had stained with the darkest colours of forbidden fruit

3. Would there be romance if Jungkook decided to pursue you? If you let him? And why does that scare you if it does?

But as you watch Jungkook close his computer in frustration and lean in closer to you impatiently wanting for a response, you can’t help but think of a collision of all three:

Sex. With. Jungkook.

“I want to fuck you, if you let me,” He says, dropping his hand on your stomach. “And I want you to fuck me too.”

“Oh, christ…church.”

You stare into Jungkook’s eyes for a terrifying moment. “Like, right now? Because coitus interruptus, you’re touching my no no square.”

“Your no no square?” Jungkook slips his warm hand underneath your shirt, resting it on the skin of your stomach. “Why not? You don’t have class tomorrow, I can teach you something right now?”

“Jungkook,” he stares up at you, “I’m a virgin with a fear of penetration.”

He frowns. “Yeah, I know. That’s okay, we can take it easy, we don’t have to have sex right now. We’ll just keep it dry and you’re my bestfriend and I’m yours, it will be just between us?”

“I’m mean, don’t expect me to do tricks because I have no idea.”

Jungkook laughs softly, before lifting himself off the mattress to hover over you. “What do you mean tricks Y/N?”

You look away as he goes to sit between your legs. “I mean like, don’t expect me to jump on the dick and take you for a spin, you know that saying, going on a ride or something …no what was it …you driving into my garage …or was it the other way round? Me driving at full speed into your garage.”

Jungkook holds his arms up into a cross. “No butt stuff.”

“Butt stuff?”

“My garage is my asshole Y/N, think about it.” He says, and you laugh at your poor effort with sexual innuendos.

“Oh lmao, but can we try it? I think it’s fair if you end up splitting my ass that I get to also split your ass.”

He stares at you with a vacant look on his face. “Do you even know what you’re saying?”  

“I like the idea of having you plugged up while having sex with you,” you lean back into the mattress with a gleeful expression. “You’d be so submissive, and I wouldn’t need to worry about not knowing what to do because you’d be too distracted by the stimulation of your prostate to notice me fumbling.”

“Okay, you have watched and potentially read way too much porn Y/N.”

You shrug, watching him taking off his pants and throwing them across the room. “Eh, probably but I don’t see the harm in it. We’re good friends and we keep things light hearted. It’s a completely different world for us and that’s exciting don’t you think?”

He nods in thought. Straight brown hair hangs in front of his eyes, a small smile etches across his face as he begins to pull down your sweatpants. “It will definitely be a whole new world for you-

“I love that song …it’s a dazzling place I never knew but when I’m way up here,” you interrupt, singing at the top of your lungs as you lift your bum off the mattress as he pulls your pants off. It startles him but Jungkook isn’t sure why he’s surprised. Gripping his chin, you lift his face towards you as you sing. “It’s crystal clear. That now I’m in a whole new world with you.”

Jungkook scrunches his face in disgust, of course you’d ruin a moment with your Disney infatuation.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Was I too off key?” You ask, taking off your hoodie and he nods.

“Your voice went way far off into the whoop whoops.” He admits, watching you settle beneath him in a white singlet and beige panties. You don’t even care that you haven’t shaved, he can kiss your ass.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you grin. “You should sing for me then.” You whisper, watching his eyes drop to your lips.

“Some other time,” he whispers back, watching your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod, “Do you have to ask?”

“Consent is important Y/N.”

“Well yes, in that case, go ham.”

Staring at you for a moment, he pushes you into the mattress, plastering his lips onto yours.

It’s not the most flattering kiss you’ve ever had. Jungkook’s lips are like rubber if rubber smelt like sandalwood and regret. It’s awkward at first, you can tell he’s testing the waters …well you hope he’s testing the waters because he’s not moving. Jungkook puts his hands on both sides of your head, you haven’t closed your eyes yet, were you supposed to? You don’t think you will with how this is going but his eyes are clenched closed as though the close proximity permits them too.

He has long eyelashes.

But is he going to move his lips?

How do you kiss again? Is this kissing? Surely not.

Jungkook presses a chaste kiss on your lips before moving away from your mouth. Relief floods your bones. Jungkook is a bad kisser lmao. Planting kisses across your cheek then across your jawline, you stay rigid beneath him. Is it bad to assume that if he can’t kiss, then he can’t…

In that case, then you’ll have to be the kisser between the two. The chocolate on the strawberry in food terms. I could go with some chocolate right now actually, maybe with some banana.

Focus Y/N, you have a man on top of you trying to get you hot.

Should I just kiss him? Rock his world? What do I do again?

Everything that you read in romper.com goes completely over your head. You had prepared yourself for situations like this by reading a million magazine make out tricks and you’ve kissed like a total of two guys, Jungkook being one of them so surely that is enough experience to not ruin the moment. What did that website say about again?

Ah, 1. Hand positions.

Running your fingers slowly up his back, you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling on the strands. It’s a good start. Jungkook must like his hair being  pulled because he moans against your ear before suckling on your ear lobe. You can feel his hardened length twitch against your thigh as he does it too. It’s so thick what the hell, how will that fit inside me. Okay, let’s not think about that right now, lets just kiss. Fuck, what do I do next? You thought. I can’t just sit here, I gotta do something to him so he doesn’t think I am lazy.

Okay, breathe Y/N, what was number 2? Was it change positions? How the heck do I do that? Should I just push him off? The article said to roll him over, how do you do that sexily?

You shove Jungkook roughly off you and he falls to the mattress beside you. It’s not the most sexy transition but it will do. You don’t even give him thinking time before you throw your leg over his waist, and grab one side of his side in a lazy bed kiss.  Leaning forward, you press a chaste kiss to his mouth to test the waters again. “Jungkook, let me just…”

Pulling back to look at him, you grin. “Slow, let’s just take it slow okay? You’re going a million miles per hour past Africa.” Jungkook nods before leaning back in, pressing his soft lips to yours and gently pressing forward.

It’s much nicer this time, a change of positions was a good move. Your eyes fall shut when he slowly moves his lips against yours. You can’t possibly shape this feeling into words, it’s nice and it’s lovely, it’s at a pace you can handle and it’s at a pace you can enjoy.

Moving his hand towards your jaw, he cups your cheek. The heat from his palm melts your brain. Is this what kissing is supposed to feel like? What was number 3? Bite the bottom lip? Ah, who gives a shit. Let’s just do it.

Softly nibbling at his bottom lip, you suckle on it and the little shocked gasp that flutters from Jungkook makes you grin against his mouth. Didn’t see that one coming did ya Jungkook. Scooping you up into his arms, you laugh and Jungkook takes the opportunity to briefly lick into your mouth. You’ve never used tongue before but holy dang, you think you might’ve missed out on something because the electricity from his tongue zips straight down your nerves and straight to your southern regions.

Number 4? Get on top of him. Without disconnecting your lips, you move on top of him to straddle his hips. It’s slightly uncomfortable because you can feel his hard on against your core but holy dang, you were aching for some friction down there.

Do I rub myself against it?

Pushing your hands on his pectorals, you’re acutely aware you both forgot to take off your shirts but that is fine right now. You don’t want to give Jungkook bragging rights when you ask to lick his abs hahaha.

Using your own tongue, you brush against Jungkook’s tongue and lick into his mouth. Naturally gyrating your hips down on his, a strangled moan erupts from his lips before he gasps loudly, detaching his lips from yours.

“What?” You pant, looking at his bulging expression. “Why are you looking at me like I just kicked your dog?”

Narrowing his eyes at you, he falls back to the bed. “You’ve done this before.”

“So it’s good?” You grin, grabbing the sides of his face. “Am I doing okay?”

He nods eagerly when you lean down and begin pressing light kisses across his jaw. “Does it feel good?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you want me?”

“Fuck yes.”

“How much do you want me?”

“More than anything.”

“How do you feel when I do this?” You ask, slowly rolling your hips against his erection. “Because I can’t think of anything more I want then to feel your big dick inside me. Jesus, it feels so fucking good Jungkook. I want you so badly, I’m so fucking wet, I bet if just pull your underwear down your thighs and slip my underwear to the side, you’d just slip right in.”

“How did you… where did you learn to talk like that. Fuck, you’re so sexy,” He holds your hips tightly, moving them against his erection.“It feels so …fucking good. God, you’re so wet, I can’t wait to fuck you.” He whimpers.

Kissing down his neck, you open your mouth against his skin. “Porn is great for learning how to dirty talk babe.”  

Your hot breath lights up a flurry of goosebumps across his skin.

“Y/N,” he moans, pulling you against him tighter and you laugh.

Rolling your tongue over his pulse points and rolling your hips against his, Jungkook’s reaction is explosive. Repetitively thrusting against your core, he moans. “Fuck, I don’t think I’m going to last very long if you keep doing that.”

For a blinding second, you see stars. You know, like in those cartoons when they bumped their heads. Except you haven’t, so you’re confused by this.  

The friction against your clit was amazing. He was dizzying in the best kind of way. Sucking on a spot of skin beneath his ear, you gyrate your hips harder, kissing across his cheek to his lips as you do.

Biting his bottom lip, you push your tongue into his mouth again. Jungkook keeps making these guttural noises and you feel intoxicated by their very sound. You drink them in, each shot making you feel drunk off of him.

Pushing against you, Jungkook rolls you over onto your back. Lying between your thighs, he kisses you hard. Fuck, what was number 6? Are we up to number 6, or was it 7. Who fucking knows.

Humping against your core, you whimper the tiniest form of his name feeling his wet thickness through the fabric slide through your wet slit. Disconnecting his lips from yours, he solely grinds against you, watching you flutter your eyes closed, watching you lick over your swollen red lips.

Bringing a hand to your face, he rubs his thumb over your bottom lip and your reaction baffles him. He gulps when you roll your tongue around his thumb. You open your eyes, staring into his large brown ones before taking it in your mouth and sucking on it.

Number 18 something, suck on his thumb. Check.

“Holy fuck,” he whispers, grinding into you even harder if that were possible. And his tone of voice is so deep and so crusty and broken, it’s just an absolute turn on. You feel so sloppy, can you even move your arms?

Closing your eyes, you look up to the ceiling feeling the strangest tightening in your stomach. “Ah fuck Jungkook, it feels so good, keep doing that.” you moan, biting your lip.

“I’m so close baby, so close. I want to be in you so fucking badly,” he whimpers, leaning his forehead on yours. “Next time, I’m going to pound you so hard you’ll be seeing stars.”

“Too late for that Jungkook.” Sweat drips down his face but you couldn’t care less at this point as you lazily grab the sides of his face and bring his lips to yours. Wrapping your feet around his waist, the space allows him to make more frantic movements with his hips.

His lips fall from yours when he cums. It’s the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard when he says your name, so broken but so relieved and you aren’t that far behind him when brings his hand down to your wet underwear and presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing it in circular motions. It was like fireworks lighting up every single nerve in your body and then all you could see was white and Jungkook’s beautiful brown eyes.

You’re panting and sweaty, but you feel so utterly light and brainless. You don’t say anything until he does. It was one of the most amazing feelings you’ve ever had, second to the feeling of eating a really good mince and cheese pie.

“I just came in my underwear, fuck,” he says, unwilling to leave the comfort of your body. “I’ve never came so hard in my life, it’s all over your legs. I’m sorry for the mess…”

You ignore him.“That was…

“…amazing right? Jesus, you can kiss,” he admits, pressing lazy kisses to your neck and collarbone. “My heart won’t stop racing.”

You feel so sticky and you don’t even know what to say about what he just said. “Thanks.”

“Seriously, where did you learn to kiss like that? I thought I was the only guy you’ve ever kissed.”  

You frown at that. “Jungkook, I can’t take you seriously when you’re so sweaty and I can feel your semen seeping through my …underwear….”

The revelation washes over you. “Oh my god, I’m not on the contraceptive pill and you didn’t use a condom….”

He stares at you strangely. “We didn’t have sex why would you need to worry about that…”

You push him off of you as you fall off the bed and stand up. He watches you with a strange look on his face when you wipe his cum off your thighs and begin a set of jumping jacks. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want to get pregnant.”

He laughs. “Why …would …you think that?”

“Don’t be dumb Jungkook, they have tails and they swim.”

The laugh that bursts through the silence in the room is deafening. His cackle grates into your nerves as you stand still, watching him roll in his sheets with a stupid fucking toothy grin on his face.

“You fucking idiot Y/N.”

You smile as you watch him laugh, pretending to be an idiot was the only way you could think of that would get you out from underneath him and into the shower. It was quite a successful transition. You just weren’t aware of how much that event would plague you for the rest of the week.

[protagonisms]

Spark

"We're glad to have you back, Dr. Olson!"

"Thanks," replied the old man flatly as he slowly strode down the hallway, his eyes fixed on the large metal door at the end.

The nervous technician walking next to him grew increasingly somber. "Y-you should know, sir... we haven't recorded any organic expression from him since you left. He may not-" she stopped as abruptly as Dr. Olson's gait. The old man wearily glanced at the technician with no discernable change in expression or tone. "May not what?" he asked.

"H-he may not... be there."

"What do you mean? Has his brain stopped?"

"Well, no..." the technician looked away, searching for the right euphemisms. "But every neural pattern we've seen for the last six years has been, well... algorithmic."

"You've stopped drugging him?" the old man squinted a bit, his face showing a hint of amusement.

"Artificial methods of inducing variation are now completely ineffective. If you recall on your last visit-"

"I remember," interrupted Dr. Olson cheerfully. "He told me they were working less and less. Even then, you guys were practical bathing his whole brain with those super-entheogens, ha!" the old man gave a wry chuckle before resuming his walk.

"Right... " the technician approached the large console beside the door and rested the back of her hand in a small round hole. The top of the hole descended onto his hand and softly pressed around it for several seconds while she stared into a retinal scanner. A short beep signaled the loud CLANG before the large metal door slowly swung away from the pair. Upon entering, the technician quickly turned left and walked through another door, while the old man slowly approached his friend, and sat down in a chair a few feet away.

He faced the general figure of a person lying in a bed but appeared to be built into the bed more than lying in it. The figure's arms were both covered by a smooth plastic structure. Where the left hand should be was a jarringly different dark metal box with many wires and small hoses running from it, and around the right hand was an amalgam of wires, pipes, and subtly moving mechanical parts. The top of the bed seems like it has swollen upwards and swallowed the legs. The torso seemed to sprout abruptly from the bed, which itself showed only patches of skin among a patchwork of metal and plastic of different types and colors, with a few wires running from the front neatly around the sides and up behind the shoulders to join with the thick bundle of wires and hoses that were fixed to the large structure around the figure's head.

An expressionless dark-skinned old man's face stared back at Dr. Olson from a mostly synthetic head and neck, whirring and clicking with steadily increasing intensity upon matching eyes with the visitor.

Dr. Olson broke eyes with his friend and slowly looked at the equipment around him. His eyes rested on a shiny new part of the chest piece. "So," he smirked, "your lungs FINALLY gave out did they? Must've been all that smoking!" he laughed a dry, raspy laugh.

The whirring peaked and abruptly stopped, as the face surrounded by metal blinked and abruptly broke out into a smile. "Just solved another problem with my existence, is all" said a low, tinny voice that carried far more inflection than seemed consistent with a completely still head and shoulders. There was no expression of movement at all besides the very lively facial muscles.

"Oh... and you're head is now totally fixed too, huh? And your voice... is your face the only part left of your body with active skeletal muscles? And what's that new sound?" Dr. Olson leaned forward, tilting his ear toward the face.

The tinny voice chuckled. "My new left eye, can you tell? Can't really stop the clicking yet without sacrificing acuity. The sucker's gotta be making tiny movements all the time to satisfy my occipital lobe." The face made a frowning expression that looked it would accompany a shrug. "I've still got plenty most of the way down my arms and, part of my legs. Don't really remember what it's like to articulate limbs, though. And I do miss moving my head, but I finally cracked the neural feedback for the lungs and diaphragm! I thought the cortex would be tough to crack, but the medulla and pons are finicky litte shits, ha ha ha!" the tinny voice's laughter widened Dr. Olson's smile. "Glad to see you're still around, Roh."

"Why wouldn't I be?" asked Roh, still chortling. "You think I'd bother making all this if I was just gonna go quietly? Ha!" he laughed louder.

Dr. Olson's simle faded slowly as his expression grew somber. "Annie said that you might not be anymore... that the variation in your neural patterns have flatlined."

"ha... what... flatlined?" the jovial mood slowly left Roh's voice. "For how long?"

"Well... since my last visit, six years ago..." said Dr. Olson, looking intensely at his old friend's face.

"Six years, huh?" the tinny voice went quiet for several moments. A nearby room that was already filled with commotion suddenly erupted with excitement that was undetectable from this chamber. The whirring sound coming from the giant mass of machinery around Roh's slowly faded below Dr. Olson's perception.

"You know..." finally said Roh, glancing sadly around at nothing particular, "I don't mean to disregard Annie or any of the others... but it's all always so routine and mundane... there's never anything new, so I just use my digital parts. I'm still here, can't you tell?" The question didn't sound rhetorical.

Dr. Olson nodded. "Yeah, yeah, you're clearly here RIGHT NOW, but... when I leave? I suspect that whatever of your brain that I'm stimulating with my presence-"

"Not your presence" Roh cut him off. "At least not anymore. They tried convincing me you were here and even made a pretty good voice synthesizer, but I saw through them faster and faster until they stopped trying."

"Okay, my interaction then. I must say I'm a little flattered, but still... think about what they're seeing. Biologically, it's like you just rose from the dead to talk to me."

Roh's lips curled into a wry smile. "I mean, my brain never stopped firing, did it?"

"Hey, you made the rules yourself. If your brain patterns become totally deterministic, then call your Time of Death."

"And yet here we are," Roh replied slowly, as though to feel the weight of each word.

"Really, though, Roh... are you gonna be here the next time I come by?"

Roh gave a tinny scoff, then frowned at the sound of it before replying "I already answered that question, but..." his voice trailed off, the playfulness aprubtly ending. "...to be honest, I think I feel it coming. Sure, I could probably work out a way to detect whatever chaotic patterns are left in me but... I feel it. The gap between 'me' and 'not me' in my own head is widening. Maybe that's why I've apparently been away for so long. Most of the cortex of my brain is now directly affected by or outputting to a digital interface. I can feel the line in my thoughts, where the computer picks the thought up and it becomes clear, vivid, strong, like ultraviolet-bright neon lights. Rigid, explicit ideas with no... substance. No meaning. There's nothing inside any of it, nothing to FEEL when an idea is delivered to me from the computer. The gap is so wide now... I program more and more thought processes into the digital interface so there's less and less for me to do, but... I guess that's it, isn't it? Just slowly fading away..." Roh's voice trailed off into sadness as he closed his eyes.

After a long pause, Dr. Olson asked "What do humans look like, for a machine?"

"What?" the tinny voice sounded confused.

"I remember you once said the best use of plugging a computer into your brain was to try and describe things from a computer's perspective. How you could now see the 'shape of data'. If you can see it even more clearly now, maybe you can answer it this time around: what do humans look like, as data?"

"As data? Humans..." the whirring returned as Roh closed his eyes with a look of deep concentration. The face slowly went completely as blank as before Dr. Olson entered the room before the eyes snapped back open and a slow smile crept across Roh's face. "to the digital part of my mind, Humans look... like fire."

"Fire?" asked Dr. Olson, smiling. "How?"

"Well, fire is just thermal energy that radiates in frequencies that the human eye can detect. It's an arbitrary term for data, but a very specific one for organic experience. Fire is just thermal energy that can be seen, heard, and felt... and it changes chemical properties. Fire provided all light in the world until we found a way to apply fire to create light with electricity, only after forging materials with fire. From the perspective of data... humans are like fire. There is nothing in the entire data universe that did not start from human intention. Whenever there's a collection of data that can't be interpreted as any known type of structure, apply humans like heat and either some method of interpretation will emerge or the data will burn away into entropy, or rather... I think the concept of entropy is kind of inverted in this metaphor." Roh laughed before continuing. "Data without any kind of structure will very likely become permanently un-interpretable if human attention is not applied often enough, or after too long. Data that grows cold becomes meaningless. Systems can come back to it and draw patterns that weren't seen before, but without human interpretation at some level, it will always be rendered obsolete in favor of whatever has human attention."

"Fascinating," replied Dr. Olson, enraptured. "Why?"

"Because while machines can interpret visual data, they cannot see." Dr. Olson widened his eyes as he could've sworn he saw Roh's left eye literally flash from the inside. "They can parse audio information or acoustic pulses, but cannot hear. Excellent questions, though. Thank you.""

Dr. Olson nodded thoughtfully. "Okay then, wise guy," he smiled. "How about this one?" He cleared his throat.

"What do YOU look like?"

Roh closed his eyes, and the whirring sound rose again.

[artificialqueens]

caught in the way you got me (raven x manila) - goneawaygirl

David is electric, Raven’s poise and possession radiating to reach Karl. It’s careless, and Karl feels so fucking delicate, with David looking like he’s here to break him just because he can.

a/n:  bitch you THOUGHT I was finished with magical realism. anyway, here’s an All-Stars 1 fic set in the “queens are literal magic” universe, and based around that first shocking Untucked. thanks @dylann for the constructive hollering.

Cw: smoking; irresponsible kai kai, marry, kill; exhibitionism; and Willam being Willam

“I would fuck you.”

There’s a collective breath between Raven and Manila that takes too much time to exhale. Manila is acutely aware of the four crew members in the room - especially the boom hanging directly over them, and the stedicam focused on her face. This is contrived - product placements mandated, and at least one queen needing to reapply lash glue, and pots being stirred as much as cocktails. And above everything, this ridiculous, orchestrated “fuck, marry, kill” is going to be broadcast on national television.

Yes, it will be edited to hell and back, but they can’t put words in Manila’s mouth. That’s all her.

So Manila rolls her eyes, huffs out a laugh, and repairs the air.

“All of y’all can die, and then I’ll just fuck myself.”

And the room breaks into laughter, led by Latrice’s tension-shattering holler. Jujubee snickers so much that she snorts, and Manila plays it up, waving her hands in front her face in mock-disgust. If she’s being honest, it’s one of her better punchlines, so she’s going to milk it for all it’s worth. Those cameras are going to be on her, so she’s going to be on.

Raven seems to have had an opposite strategy thus far, though. Manila hasn’t seen her off-camera yet, but her boy and girl persona are almost…low energy isn’t the word, but maybe reserved. Manila can’t help thinking that Raven is always holding something back in both bodies, even though she has no trouble speaking her mind.

“You’d fuck her if she kept her mouth shut,” Willam says dryly from where he’s holding the damn pink box, and that sends Juju into a whole new spiral of laughter.

Maybe it’s just the crackle of intrigue and shit-stirring induced by this ridiculous game, but Manila has to wrench herself away from focusing on Raven, who isn’t laughing as she lounges back against the Form Decor tm couch, inclining toward Willam. Raven’s smiling, but it’s that silent, secretive smile that isn’t for anyone else’s benefit. But Manila bites her cheek, and when she brushes past Raven to head back to the queens on the bottom, she tries not to notice the low there you go as Raven puts a hand on the small of her back to steady her.

————

Karl is fucking restless. Even more so than the first time around — there are so many more rules this time about how they have to check in with the coordinators, how much time they can spend outside the hotel, even when they can use the laundry room. Fucking Willam. Now they can’t have anything nice, or even remotely autonomous.

The thin, cotton-candy-faded duvet is too much for the stifling heat and cabin fever that Karl’s already developing, so he tapes a note on the door and heads to the fire escape at the end of the hall.

Apparently, it’s the only fucking place they’re allowed, because Chad and Gabriel are already there, smoking voraciously. They smile, so Karl smiles back and wills his nerdy, asthmatic, couldn’t-play-sports-as-a-kid lungs to keep their cool.

“I can’t believe Willam was allowed back on set,” Chad says as he stubs out the cigarette, and Karl laughs, and then immediately coughs. Gabriel drops his cigarette, and pats Karl on the back in a little lo siento, pero what do you expect, darling gesture that both comforts and condescends.

“I’m going to fucking sleep off this motherfucking day,” Gabriel groans. “Happy to see you putas here, love you. But I gotta fucking sleep.”

“Mm, yeah,” Chad acknowledges, with one last look out over the parking lot before he turns to follow Gabriel. “She’s gotta have it.“

“Ok, I get it!��� Karl says, and he’s struck, yet again, with the image of being last on the bench, pretending to study the grooves of the wood as he watches everyone else so far ahead of and above him. “Leave me out here to overanalyze!”

“Bitch, you won. Be happy,” Chad laughs, squeezes Karl’s shoulder, and holds the door open for Gabe and himself. Karl doesn’t miss the way the words are underlined by Chad’s own turn in the bottom. Maybe Chad’s too tired to give it to Karl, but he knows there’s more than an encouraging rebuke on the queen’s tongue.

Karl walks the five feet to the railing, and steadies his torso on it. The door slams shut, and immediately opens again - probably Chad feeling a little guilty, and back to give him some of that much-coveted wisdom.

“Well, this is a sight.”

Karl immediately tenses at the soft drawl, and the spark of a lighter.

Great, Karl thinks, turning around as leisurely as he can.

“Talk about a sight,” Karl says, the words out of his mouth before he has the wherewithal to stop them. David is leaning away from the door in a dark long-sleeve pushed up to his elbows, and it seems incongruous with the dry mid-September heat. His face is lit from the orange glow cupped in his hands.

David doesn’t look at Karl as he puts the lighter in his pocket and takes a drag, instead staring past the parking lot, and to the blurring reds and whites of the I-10 freeway. When he finally exhales, it’s thicker than Karl expected it to be, and he instinctually takes a step away from its trajectory.

Which means he’s diagonal from David, and in his haste to escape another coughing fit, he’s missed the shift of David’s gaze. He’s watching Karl with an impassive stare, his arms crossed, cigarette between two fingers, and Karl notes how his shirt is just long enough to show off his forearm sleeve.  

“Did that hurt?” Karl asks, gesturing toward the tattoos.

“You don’t like smokers?” David shifts, resting against the door. Karl is a little bemused, but he supposes it’s a rhetorical question to a rhetorical question. Karl has never liked rhetorical questions.

“Second-hand isn’t really my jam,” Karl shrugs. “Sorry, I guess that was stupid. Of course they hurt.”

David shrugs right back, taking another drag, and then blowing it away from Karl before dropping the cigarette.

“Worth it,” David says. “You don’t have any?”

“Are you kidding?” Karl laughs, then sweeps into a kind of self-indicative half-curtsy that he immediately regrets. He rights himself self-consciously, shuffling a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I have anything I would want to go through that kind of pain for. I’ve heard it’s like a cat that just keeps scratching.”

“I don’t know you that well,” David says, looking at Karl with some skepticism, like he’s searching for evidence of a hidden tattoo. “I was…refraining from judgment? It’s this new thing I’m trying.”

Karl snorts, and David cocks his head slightly. It’s bait, but it’s such irresistible bait, and Karl is always distracted by shiny things.

“How’s that working out for you?”

For a second, David’s only reaction is to stare, but then he cracks into a laugh, a murmured bitch under his breath, and Karl feels like he’s been granted some sort of beatitude for breaking David’s facade.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Karl says. “You gotta stop with that look. It’s unnerving.”

David looks taken aback for a moment, and he pushes himself up from the door with some sort of momentum to object. But maybe the wind changes, or there’s some sort of tiny, freak electrical storm, because the air between them is suddenly five times as volatile, and David settles into a stance that reminds Karl of why he never concerns himself with trying to get close to Raven.

She’s so self-assured that it comes off as arrogant - cold, really, and that kind of attitude just doesn’t mix well with Manila. Not fire and ice, per se - just two completely different elements of expression. Neither cancels out the other, but they stay in their separate corners for the most part.

And it’s not that Karl doubts his own style of artistry when it comes to Manila. She is a creation that’s entirely reliant on him, and their frequent successes are each others’. But sometimes, when he is forced to stand next to someone like David, aggressively steady and sure of his effect in any gender, there’s this surge of unease and expectation that he doesn’t know how to combat.

“Stop that,” Karl says, quietly. “You know you’re doing it again, creep.” He turns back to the balcony, and rests on his forearms. He tries to make himself focus on the traffic, the lights of the city, the asphalt - anything other than the knowledge of David walking toward him, curving around him, and stopping a foot away from Karl.

David turns so that his back against the railing, and Karl knows that he’s just making himself comfortable. He’s resting on his elbows, looking down on Karl. Casually watching, like his gaze just happened to alight on Karl, and he might as well look.

“Whatever you say.”

Karl doesn’t want to meet his gaze, but for once, he lets himself be drawn rather than repelled. And he’s not disappointed.

David is electric, Raven’s poise and possession radiating to reach Karl. It’s careless, and Karl feels so fucking delicate, with David looking like he’s here to break him just because he can.

“Or you could not say anything,” David shifts his weight, running a hand over Karl’s shoulder, up to the nape of his neck. Karl shudders, moving in slightly to the touch, but his head snaps up.

“Are you fucking serious? Willam ruins every –”

He’s cut off by David pulling him up into a kiss, and the way his body reacts immediately is downright desperate. He curves toward David, whose hands go to his neck and the small of his back, pressing them against one another. And Karl has no real choice but to let himself be supported.

David kisses the same way he moves through the world - with utter confidence. And Karl can’t really blame him, though he can be a little upset that David hasn’t made some sort of deal with the devil. As far as Karl knows, that is.

David moves to kissing his jaw, and then he’s spinning them, pressing Karl’s hands to grip the railing of the balcony.

“I’m going to say this once,” David says smoothly, not a fucking hint of exertion in his voice. “You make noise when I tell you to. We’re not getting caught.”

The railing cuts uncomfortably against Karl’s abdomen, and he lets out a small whine before David’s hand is over his mouth.

“That is, assuming you want this,” David states, leaning down to speak into Karl’s ear. It sounds like an assertion, but Karl realizes that he’s pausing, leaving space for Karl to give a clear yes or no.

A thousand things flash through Karl’s mind - not the least of which is the 100,000 dollars just out of his sight. But the most immediate picture is David warm and solid against his back, and somehow, it feels like a window of opportunity that Karl hasn’t recognized before.

Karl nods.

“Yeah, thought so,” David says, and it would rankle Karl if he had any room to disagree. But seeing as he’s already slightly weak-kneed when David wraps an arm around his torso, he can’t really object.

The next thing he knows, David has pressed him back against the door with a muffled thud, and Karl’s disoriented, with David’s hands on his hips and his mouth on the join of Karl’s neck and shoulder, pressing kisses that are jarringly light.

Karl has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing, but his chest shakes a little with the effort, and David pulls away.

“Are you that fucking sensitive, bitch?”

Karl’s about to launch into a full-on diatribe about how sensitivity and ticklishness are not the same thing, but David’s thumbs digging into his hips is enough to remind him of their situation, so he, again, just nods.

“Figures,” David sighs, but then he’s pulling down the wide strap of Karl’s tank top, and is using teeth and tongue with an intensity that’s dizzying.

Karl doesn’t have time to be ticklish, or loud, or even all that conscious of how he usually responds. He just arches into David and prays that he won’t have any marks that he can’t cover up in the morning.

David’s hands move to Karl’s ass, pulling him to grind against David, and Karl swallows with a dry mouth. David’s hard, and Karl is sure that he’s already sweating profusely from the way that prickle of arousal has turned into a full-body experience, starting from the crown of his head and flowing to his fingertips.

Apparently, David has a thing for Karl’s ass, because he’s fucking kneading it, and Karl has so many jokes that he would normally be indulging in. Because, when it comes down to it, sex is fun for Karl - it’s silly and it’s odd and yes, loud, and messy. And for someone who was so uncomfortable with how his body was supposed to be perceived for so many years, Karl is now firmly in charge of how it interacts with others.

Right now, though, he wishes they could be in one of their rooms, on a bed, without having to dig his teeth into his lip. He wants David to hear him, and he wants to hear David.

The thought of David unable to control his own noises combines with one of David’s hands moving to squeeze at the front of Karl’s shorts, and Karl lets out a hard puff of air against David’s cheek. He congratulates himself on the restraint because not a second later, footfalls are audible on the other side of the door.

They both freeze, but don’t move away from one another, and for what seems like an eternity, Karl is hyperfocused on two things: the stumble of feet, and all the places on his body David is pressing against. Karl knows they should separate, but it’s so tempting to instead push David’s shirt up, and draw even closer. Karl has seen those abs – kind of hard not to when David has already spent half the time in the workroom shirtless.

The steps stall near the door, and then another pair joins them, accompanied by a cackle that Karl doesn’t recognize. And then there are two voices speaking Spanish and Karl relaxes a touch. It’s Nina and Alexis. Sure, it would be embarrassing for them to walk through that door, but they’re not about to rat a sister out.

Karl is close to suggesting that he and David just join them, when David starts unzipping Karl’s shorts. Karl whips back to look at him, and he hopes he’s shooting fucking laser beams out of his eyes, because this is, full stop, a bad idea.

David merely smiles, and presses to Karl’s ear.

“You keep quiet, and keep your weight against the door. They’ll think it’s locked. Got it?”

It’s the lowest David’s voice has ever been, and that stupid confidence must be fucking infectious, because instead of pushing David away, Karl covers David’s hand and nods. He doesn’t trust his ability to whisper.

And then, instead of going for the handjob that is still, surely, a bad idea but would be easy enough to recover from, David is sinking to his fucking knees, working Karl’s cock out of his boxers. Again, David looks up at Karl for a moment, waiting for him, and his eyes are dark and his mouth is shiny and wet, and Karl puts both hands in David’s hair and just breathes.

Please.

David gets the message.

It takes a lot more effort than Karl wants to acknowledge to stifle himself. But most of that is absolutely David’s fault, and despite the ridiculous precarity of their situation, Karl is certain that David does, in fact, want to experience Karl’s loss of control.

Karl’s not going to give that buried desire any satisfaction, so he alternates between tugging at David’s hair, and digging his nails into the palm of his own hand and David’s shoulders.

Even with one ear turned toward the possibility of catastrophe, Karl has no choice but to admire the way David looks on his knees. The lights from the parking lot and the pool below them mix to cast David in smudges of blue and white, and Karl’s breath catches in his throat, envisioning him as a gas lamp angel, dissolving into the night.

Karl has to push his hands through David’s short hair just to remind himself that David is there, that he’s not going anywhere. Karl certainly isn’t moving when David is working him, indolently and too slowly to be anything other than a tease. But Karl can’t communicate like he normally does; can’t urge him with promises of what he’ll do for David in the aftermath. So he bucks forward, only for David to pull away, receding into shadow.

Karl nearly groans, but catches himself, and slowly, quietly settles back against the door. And David reemerges, looking for all the world like every man of which Karl had ever told himself (rightly) to steer clear. He looks smug, vibrating with a low, selfish energy. Like he’s going to take his goddamn time, especially if it kills Karl.

And that just about flips a switch.

When Karl thinks about it later, catching himself staring a little too fixatedly as David paints in the workroom mirror, he’ll try to justify it as the necessary choice, given their circumstance. That it was a reasonable incentive, equally pleasurable for both of them. But when he’s being the hardest on himself, he’ll remember that well of determination and satisfaction that pushes him to reach for David, run his thumbs over David’s cheekbones, and just let him feel how much Karl is not messing around.

As warmth passes from Karl’s fingertips, David’s eyes unfocus. He looks in Karl’s direction with this glazed, dreamy expression that is so unlike anything Karl has ever seen play across David’s face. It’s overwhelming for Karl to see him this relaxed - Karl can’t imagine what it is for David.

But then David blinks, shakes his head like he’s dislodging something and the fog clears. David stares at Karl for a moment, and there’s something clicking almost audibly in David’s mind. His hands are on the backs of Karl’s thighs, mouth around his cock in a matter of seconds, and this time he���s actively bringing Karl further into his mouth and close to the edge as they both dare.

Now Karl does have to focus most of his energy on keeping his mouth shut, an occasional hiss issuing out of him. David is, predictably, incredible, and even with this faster pace, everything feels intentional. As soon as Karl’s nails are digging into David’s shoulders, David is moaning around him, low enough to be nearly inaudible, but his eyes are fixed on Karl’s face and Karl hates him for it. Hates that he’s effectively gagging himself and still finding a way to wreck Karl and Karl can’t say a word, can’t breathe, can’t keep himself focused on anything other than that insane mouth and those unrelenting eyes.

It’s not as if Karl has ever considered himself to be a particularly vindictive person - he doesn’t believe in vengeance, and has never thought anyone profited from spite. It doesn’t do anything good for a complexion. But there’s something in David’s ability to render Karl all but useless that hits a nerve; that keeps hitting a nerve.

So where Karl would usually just give in, he finds the indecency to hold out, letting David work him with an obscene grace. David pulls back for just a moment, his hands moving from Karl’s ass to trace under his tank to his hipbones, and when he takes Karl again, it’s so excruciatingly slowly that Karl’s hands rise to fist in David’s hair.

It’s that final glance between them that does it. Karl’s head knocks back against the door, his eyes closing, and if he had any presence of mind to spare, he would curse himself for the luxurious heat he sends to envelop David as he comes. But as it is, he’s a little caught up in the burgeoning warmth that threatens to send him past consciousness, and he’s relieved to impart some of it.

When Karl opens his eyes again, it’s to David wiping the corner of his mouth with his shirtsleeve. There’s a gold patina to him, settling into his skin, and Karl is caught between berating himself for his lack of control, and marvelling at how well is suits David. The glow dims as David stands, sliding Karl to the side to briefly open the door, then shut it with a satisfied grunt.

“You’re a good team player,” David says, coming back to face Karl. “Wouldn’t have been a bad choice.”

For a split second, Karl is puzzled, but he nods. Right. All-Stars. Teams. 100K.

“Is this your strategy with Juju, too?” Karl’s voice is curiously raspy - strained without the use. David shakes his head, absently watching his own movements as he runs a hand up Karl’s side. Karl shivers unnecessarily, David’s knuckles catching the notches of his ribs.

“She wouldn’t have been able to shut up, and we both know it,” David says. Karl is pleasantly surprised at the smile in his voice - the smooth tone turning light and teasing. “Besides, we’ve never seen each other that way.”

“And how do you think I see you?”

David’s hand stops its wanderings, falling to David’s side as he looks at Karl pointedly.

“As someone you hope you get another chance at.”

Karl nearly protests, but David doesn’t give him the time, instead opening the door and slipping into the hallway. Karl gapes after the click of the door, and the night air, finally clear of smoke, rushes into his lungs.

Square…not square one. Square B?

Karl squeezes his eyes shut, letting himself get a little dizzy, then shakes out his hands, hoping it somehow empties him of the last vestiges of an insane day.

Tomorrow’s a new everything, and he’s got a win under his belt. If this is David’s way of trying to intimidate him…no. Karl opens his eyes and shoos the thought away. This is something else entirely, and he’s got to table it.

Just because Raven’s an enigma doesn’t mean Manila has to be the fucking Nancy Drew of drag. Shangela’s got that one covered.

Karl opens the door to the flickering and buzzing of fluorescent lights, and he thinks he hears a door shut decisively at the other end of the hallway. It snaps at Karl’s attention, insisting on a consideration, but he shakes his head.

Square Zero. Square Nothing.

__ __ __ __

The second Untucked is heavy - gut-wrenching and emotionally twisting, and Manila has too many buried memories that surface to be concerned with Raven taking the seat next to her.

But then she’s crying, and watching Yara sob, and Raven’s hand is around her, practically pulling Manila into her body with a command that’s compassionate enough to spook Manila. But Raven is warm, and her palm is gentle against Manila’s shoulder, and Manila lets her reservations dissipate enough to lean in.

Raven’s breath is quiet and steady against Manila’s ear, and Manila’s hand (that isn’t occupied with a snotty tissue) travels to Raven’s knee. And it’s just enough heat to melt spun sugar, but Raven’s hand tightens against Manila’s shoulder.

Her last round of tears are drying, and Manila inhales, exhaling another, sweeter wave toward Raven.

Thank you.

And then, in the space of a heartbeat.

I want my second chance.

Manila feels, rather than sees, the intake of breath - the little silent gasp from Raven. Raven’s hand relaxes, but she doesn’t let go. Manila’s shoulders shake a little with one last dry sob, the excess of emotional exhaustion, and it doesn’t matter that the cameras are capturing every tear, and it doesn’t matter that the ratings are based around their toil because she feels a faint, shy reply.

You can have it.

[siodymph]

Science Bros Day 4

I gotta say, of all the prompts this year I was the most excited for this one. I’d been thinking of an idea for this story and when I saw the word “pierce” I figured out how to try and put it together.

This is inspired by a hulk comic I read years ago, but for the life of me I can’t remember the name or issue. I think it was a one-off story, possibly apart of the “What if?” stuff. Basically the premises was Bruce got sent to either the future or an alternate dimension where humanity had fallen into post-apocalyptic ruin. And because of Bruce’s powers the radiation only made him stronger and he ruled as king over a whole city of survivors who worshiped and feared him. There was also an underground rebellion trying to take the Hulk down and free everyone from his tyranny. I think they were also the ones to bring Bruce to their world and ask for his help. (If anyone recognizes this story and could let me know where it came from, I’d be eternally grateful! lol)

So for my story today, both Bruce and Tony have been sucked into the alternate universe and agreed to help the rebels in their fight, only to come face to face with their ruler, the Incredible Hulk!

Hope you enjoy this and if you have any requests feel free to send them my way by the 21st of July!

You can read this story under the cut or over on my AO3!

word count: 4593 (rip folks on mobile, this is my longest story for this week.)

Coarse sand on his skin was the first thing Bruce felt when he slowly began to regain consciousness. Groaning, he shifted and tried to lift his face off the ground and open his eyes.

Sand and dirt. Lots of it. He could see giant hills in the distance. Billowing hot wind blew sand off the top of the dunes. The emptiness, the heat, but there was something else that Bruce could feel. Something was seriously wrong. It made Bruce’s instincts scream at him to run, hide, anything besides lying there like a sitting duck.

Where the hell had he woken up?

He couldn’t remember being knocked out, and he also couldn’t remember what had triggered the Other Guy either. But he must have, how else would he end up in a dump like this? He let his face fall back into the dirt, racking his brain to try and remember what happened. What could he last recall?

They had all been together. The Avengers Team. They were with Thor’s family in Asgard. They had been preparing to travel across the Bifrost home when… something started to interfere.

Bruce’s eyes shot open when it all came back to him.

He hadn’t transformed. That interference was enough to disrupt the bridge, warping it. Everyone one else had been on one side, but he and Tony… Oh god, Tony…

“TONY!”

He looked desperately around him, searching for any sign of red or gold, and spotted him a few yards behind where he fell. He was on his hands and knees. Staring at the ground.

Bruce scrambled for footing on the sand and rushed over to him.

“Tony! Oh my god, shit, I’m so sorry! Are you ok?”

Bruce reached out to touch his shoulders but pulled back when Tony raised a pointed finger in the air. Give him a minute. Bruce obliged, giving Tony some space and take care of himself. But he still felt horrible. It had taken the original team members, those closest to Tony, days to persuade him to come with them to Asgard. They all knew how he felt about teleportation but they had really needed his help. And now looked what happened? After all the times they had reassured Tony that everything would be fine.

Bruce stepped back, giving him space to breath, and looked more closely at their surroundings. All around him, seeming to stretch out forever was a complete wasteland. Bruce couldn’t even define it as a desert. At least deserts had some growth, some life hidden within it. But this was just… Nothingness. And for how hot it felt, Bruce couldn’t see the sun. Colossal red clouds covered the sky, so thick sunbeams could hardly pierce them. They definitely were on earth. Anywhere humanoid. Anywhere that even developed life possibly.

And Bruce’s instincts were still going berserk. He closed his eyes to focus on the feeling more. Normally if he’d woken up somewhere unfamiliar after changing into the Hulk, he’d feel exhausted. Weak enough to fall back asleep. And as a medical doctor, he knew that even if he hadn’t transformed, he should still feel tired or even sickly from this heat and dehydration. But he felt fine. In fact, he’d go as far as to say he felt good. Energized, in a way no normal human should in this state. He looked carefully down at his hands. And for a brief, terrifying moment, his skin seemed to ripple with green. It disappeared just as quickly as it came, almost making Bruce think it was a trick of his eyes. He clenched his hands into fists. He felt strong. Even without transforming he felt strong. In his experience within labs and backpacking around the world, he discovered only a tiny handful of circumstances that could make him feel like this.

“Tony?” Bruce asked, carefully stepping back towards him while he was still composing himself. “Normally I would suggest taking off the helmet, but right now you really, really shouldn’t. I this area is radioactive.”

Tony brought his hand up, scanning the area. And when he finally spoke he sounded tired. “Yep, high too.”

Tony seemed to be alright now and accepted Bruce’s hand as he pulled him up to his feet, suit and all.

“Where the hell are we?”

Bruce looked out at the wasteland, completely alien. “I have no idea. I’m sorry.”

Tony’s hand clench into a fist, and Bruce heard him breath heavily over the mic in his suit. “Well that’s just perfect! I can’t reach anyone. I can barely talk with Friday-”

“Wait, get down.” Bruce, grabbed his arm and tried to pull Tony down. But it was too late.

There was a group of figures sprinting towards them. Directly towards them.

“Get behind me.” Tony said briskly, standing in front of Bruce and readied his gauntlets to attack.

But the figures raised their hands in surrender. Tony let them get closer, though his hands were still raised. As they got closer Bruce saw how they were all wearing hoods and googles. Only three of them had obvious firearms but they were holstered. Nobody had weapons drawn actually.

When they were finally close Bruce realized just how young they all looked, they were all college-age at best. Maybe even high-school. One of the people stepped forwards, the leader Bruce could only assume. She pulled down her hood, openly gaping at the two of them.

“It worked...” She breathed, awed. “It actually worked!”

If Bruce could see Tony’s face he was sure he’d be furious. “Woah! What worked? What did you kids do to us?”

“We were trying to send out a distress signal and you answered it! Right?”

“Try dragged out of mid-teleportation!” Tony snapped. “Did you have any idea what you were doing?!”

Bruce touched Tony’s shoulder as he stepped out from behind him. He wasn’t happy about their current situation either but he didn’t want to escalate the situation any further. These were the only people they came across, in an area Bruce had thought was inhospitable. They needed answers more than anything. “Ok, but why? Why were you sending a distress signal?”

“We needed help! You’re help exactly, Dr. Banner.”

“Wait, you know me?”

“I’ll explain everything once we get to shelter. But please, we must get out of here now. If we-” She stopped mid rant when everyone heard the sound of a drone. Above them an electric blue craft circled above them slowly before flying off. The whole group became terrified and the leader turned back to Bruce and Tony. “You have to believe us! If we’re caught all is lost! Please!”

Tony and Bruce looked at each other, then back at the group.

“Well… not like we have any other choice.”

~~~

They were taken by the group to a cave network. And that was only after what felt like hours of riding on hover-bikes. It was hard to guess the time when you couldn’t see the sun, just over-cast clouds.

And once they were out of the elements things felt even more muddled. Soon though the group approached a gate. One that seemed centuries away from the rest of the technology these kids had access to. Like their scrapped-together weapons and rusty hover-bikes, everything was obviously home-made or at least repaired older models. But this thing seemed sleek, metallic, something Tony would have designed in his workshop back at home.

The leader punched a code into the door and ushered them into a room lined in lasers. One of the guys spoke as everyone was scanned. “This is the only way to ensure our base of operations stays safe. If you’re made of the right stuff there are plenty of entrances. But if you’re not, you’ll easily find there are no exits.”

“Cryptic.” Tony replied dryly.

A siren began blaring when the lasers fell over Bruce. And the leader quickly hurried back to the wall. “Hang on!” After a few muttered curse words the alarms finally shut down. Then the entire floor began to sink, and she hoped back onto the platform.

“I uh- I apologize, are security program considered you a threat at first. Sorry about that Dr. Banner.”

“Understandable… I guess.” Bruce said, sparing a glance to look up. From the speed the platform was taking, they were descending fast. The laser room was quick becoming a spec above them. “So, is it alright to get some answers now?”

“Yes, we owe you as much, more probably. My name is Talia.” The leader, Talia, answered. She took a moment to breath before continuing, getting her thoughts in order. “Our world didn’t always look like… that, out there. It used to be full of life. But then humanity turned on itself. They did something unforgivable and irreversible. Nothing grows now. It’s dangerous to stay out for too long. But from what our resources know, only a few scattered camps and villages of mutants can survive out in the wastelands. All we have is the city, it’s the only place safe from the radiation we know of.”

As she spoke, Talia and her team began taking off the covering and head gear. Everyone seemed to be wearing colors that might have once been bright neon but had been turned blander and dirtier from so much time outside and in caves. Tony popped his helmet off as they went down, suffering quietly with a serious case of helmet hair.

“How long has it been like this?” Bruce asked.

“Generations.” Talia said. “Humanity as we currently know of it has only survived due to our city. Vast enough to be called a kingdom. It was built by a brilliant man, but ever since it has been ruled by a monster. His rule is tyrannical, letting those he doesn’t favor suffer in squalor while a select few are brought to live in his palace as servants. Most people in the city consider him a god. But we know the truth. He’s not human, and considers everyone he’s supposed to care for as expendable. Unworthy of autonomy. He was alive before the apocalypse, and instead of the radiation killing him, it only made him stronger. Enhanced super strength, senses, intelligence. His entire body is indestructible. And he’s next to immortal with no weaknesses. He calls himself “the Emperor””

“So how do you expect us to take him down?” Tony pushed.

“We’ve been training in secret our whole lives. My people and I could take on the Emperor’s soldiers. If we strategize correctly. But none of us could ever take on the Emperor himself and survive. Only someone with superhuman powers comparable to his…” Talia, and her whole team turned to look expectantly at Bruce.

“Ok, how do you all know so much about me?” Bruce demanded, this was starting to get really weird. “If this earth went through an apocalypse years ago, how would you even know about the past?”

The platform came to a stop finally and two steel doors pulled apart, revealing a giant space, filled with glass cases and computers. Talia stepped forwards, hands outreached, obviously trying to calm down the situation as everyone in the lift got on edge. “We know because we learned. About our history, laws of science and morality, all our heroes of the past. We were taught much about you Dr. Banner, as well as you Mr. Stark. We have a library and museum full of ancient records and artifacts. It’s one of the most precious things in our base of operations. If the Emperor ever found out, we would truly be destroyed… And since our Avengers perished centuries ago, we reached out to other realities. And you were brought here to us. To help us defeat the Emperor. If you transform, you could be his equal, you could beat him.”

Bruce sighed, bringing his hands to his face. And following Talia and the others out of the lift and into their base. “There’s only one problem, when I… transform as you put it, it becomes an alternate personality. I have no control over myself. I refuse to let him loose near people, certainly not in humanity’s last standing city. I could destroy everyone.”

Talia thought for a moment, rethinking her plans.

An old lady in a wheel chair rolled over to Bruce before Talia could say anything. “What if we found a way to evacuate the area? It would have more risk, if we create too much disturbance the Emperor will be even more suspicious than he already is. But what if we managed to isolate the area? Could you risk transforming then? Because if we don’t have you, there’s no point in attacking the big green bastard!”

“Green?” The irking he got while Talia explained her history, the horrible feeling he’d had ever since landing here seemed to reach a peak and he knew in his heart who the Emperor was.

“The only man unbeatable enough to survive the end of the world.” The old woman said bitterly. “Look, if you can’t do it we’ll wait for our next chance. Send you and Mr. Stark back as soon as possible. Keep our history safe, teach the next generation and the one after that if we have to. We can’t risk losing our only base. But if you can, for the love of god, just help us Bruce.”

Bruce thought it over. It was risky. But how could he stand to the side when there was a chance he could do something to stop it?

“Ok. I’ll do it.”

All around him people began clapping and cheering. Talia looked relieved. And the old Lady, the actual leader of this rebellion Bruce now assumed, had a resigned look on her face. Lips set to a stiff frown. “We’ll strike tomorrow afternoon, when the Emperor visits the industry district. And at Dr. Banner’s request, we’ll spread the word to get as many people out of the area as we can. In the meantime we all must prepare for combat!”

Everyone cheered again and Bruce wondered what the hell he and Tony just got dragged into.

“Well, this should be interesting.” Tony said nudging his side.

~~~

Tomorrow came quickly and Bruce soon found himself dressed in similar wears like the rest of the rebels. Hidden in plain sight as they milled about the so-called factory district. Everyone was waiting. Soldiers in what looked like a fusion of mech-suits and gladiator armor began walking into the area, but there was no signs of the Emperor arriving yet.

Everyone one around him seemed excited. They were all full of confidence and restless energy, ready to take on whatever came their way. All last night Tony had helped improve everyone’s firearms and devices. And now he was hiding somewhere in the Iron Man suit, ready to give their forces air support and eyes.

“Any sign of the Emperor!” The old lady bark over their com-links.

Bruce heard Tony reply first. “No, no sight of- Wait… Here he comes! Oh my god!” It took him a moment to realize he was laughing, not crying or gasping for air.

“Get a hold of yourself Stark!” The Old Lady snapped.

“Sorry, my bad. Oh my god, Bruce you’re gonna love this! He looks so old! Got a big grey beard and everything!”

“And he’s the most sinister, powerful mastermind on this planet so you better watch your back right now!” The Old Lady snapped back. “Everyone listen up! This is it! This is everything we’ve been working for. Long before I came into this world, generations of students have been waiting for this day. Fight for everything you stand for, everything within you!”

The last part came in a rushed growl as the Old Lady was no doubt preparing to fight herself. “But if we fail today, if anyone is captured and questioned, for the love of all that is sacred keep your damn mouth shut! Our families have been waiting for generations and our only hope is being able to wait and remember! But today students we fight! For Humanity! For our history, and for our future!”

In the distance, a colossal chariot drove towards them. It took up the entire road and stood at the same height as some of the buildings. And Bruce could see a green figure standing behind it. An old Hulking green monster. Looking directly at him.

“Now.”

The people, the kids surrounding him charged, unsheathing their weapons. Directly attacking the soldiers all around them. The gladiators were caught by surprise and struggled to match the mob closing in on them. It was madness. Chaotic enough he began to feel flashes of green without feeling mad. The Other Guy really wanted to fight, but Bruce tried to hold him off as long as he could. He at least wanted to clear past all the soldiers and rebels before changing. Above, Bruce watched as Tony rocketed forwards, he was supposed to cut off the chariot’s pathway, hold off and weaken the second wave of soldiers running towards the mob.

But he went too far. He was getting too close to the chariot. Bruce wanted to scream but it happened so fast it was already too late.

The Emperor stood up and swatted at him like he was a housefly. And as Tony dodge his giant green hands, he was still for just a second too long and a burst of something powerful and blue struck Iron Man.

TINMAN!

He felt the Other Guy shutter through his mind, but tried to keep him at bay. Not yet… please not yet…

“Tony! Tony can you hear me?”

Bruce heard Tony grunt on the other end. “Shit! Whatever that was it just completely shut down the suit. Ripped right through it. Friday’s offline. Everything is down- Shit!”

When Bruce looked up to where Tony had fallen he saw soldiers all around the Iron Man suit. Piercing it with spears the same glowing color as the burst of energy. Prying it apart like a nut. When the suit was destroyed Bruce saw them drag Tony up, bringing him directly to the Emperor. Bruce’s stomach dropped down to his feet.

“Keep fighting! We can’t give up now!” Talia screamed over the coms.

“NO!” The old lady yelled louder.

“But Grandma Barton we can’t give up now!” Talia begged.

But the old Lady, Ms. Barton refused. “Everyone stop right now, back away from the soldiers. Get out of here if you can. And Banner don’t you dare change! They knew we would be here… we’ve been compromised.”

All at once the mob scattered, adults and teenagers ran in every direction. Many made it out. But Bruce and the rest were corralled into a square formation. The Emperor looked at them all, full of irritation and annoyance.

And the green filling Bruce’s vision was lasting longer and longer. Still he tried to hold the Hulk off. If this Emperor knew about the attack then he probably knew about Bruce and Tony. That would explain why he didn’t look surprised by the sudden appearance of the first fully-functioning Iron Man in centuries. And that meant he was probably prepared for Bruce too. Probably even wanted him to transform.

He tried to keep himself in control. Especially when the Emperor stood from his chariot, reached down swiping Tony into one hand, and began approaching the group of rebels.

“This is how you repay me?” He rumbled. His voice sounded too much like the Other Guy, but it was so strange to hear him speak in full sentences, not to mention the cracked worn age in his voice too. “For all I’ve done for humanity. I built this city for you, kept you safe from the radiation, from the sickness. And in turn you all conspire against me, make plans to kill me… As if I could be killed.”

His voice seemed to drip with venom at those last words. He held Tony higher and began squeezing him. Bruce could see Tony struggle not to make any noise.

“I am not without my mercies however. I made a promise to protect humanity, not destroy it. I will forgive you all, children. But only after you show some sacrifice for your crimes today. A sacrifice in imprisonment, for all of you. And…” When he spoke, the Emperor had glanced from person to person, seemingly randomly. But as he squeezed Tony further, he looked directly at Bruce.

“The immediate destruction of this man.”

When he clenched his fist still tighter, Tony couldn’t hold back a scream he’d been biting down. Bruce could see the pain on his face, his hands were clawing at the Emperor’s grip, even as fruitless as it was.

The Other Guy went insane in his head.

HE HURTING TINMAN!

Please no. He begged inside his mind, trying to shut off the tidal wave of green surging through him. It’s what he wants. This is a trap.

HULK NOT CARE! HE KILLING TINMAN!

He knew a transformation was inevitable. The last thing he heard before falling to the back of his mind was Ms. Barton demanding he not change while the young rebels all around him were screaming in terror…

When Hulk took control, he saw little humans scurrying all around his feet, running towards crummy buildings to hide.

But he didn’t care about them. His focus was solely on the Old Bully who was hurting his Tinman. The Old Bully had stopped squeezing Tinman. He was setting the Tinman down in his chariot.

“Step out of this chariot and you will be crushed.” Hulk heard him threaten his Tinman which only made rage course stronger through him. Then the Old Bully finally turned to face him again, smirking. “Dr. Banner I presume?”

Hulk roared at him. A roar that left all of the Bully’s men quaking and running but the Bully wasn’t fazed. He looked disappointed actually.

“I see… You’re from a world and time where you haven’t learned to control your powers? That’s a shame, I was looking forwards to an intellectual equal. But this should still be interesting.”

Hulk didn’t want to talk. That’s what Banner was for! He was for fighting and yelling! So he charged at the old Bully with raised fists.

But much to his surprise despite how wrinkly the older Hulk looked, he was still swift. Easily dodging Hulk’s slamming fists and bringing how own down, hard onto the Hulk’s chest. And it stung!

“I bet you think you have multiple personalities. You do, don’t you?” The Old Bully asked, shoving Hulk away. “It’s much easier that way… You always have somewhere to put all your anger and fear. A way to disassociate. A way to blame yourself without actually blaming yourself.”

Hulk aimed his hits at the Bully’s jaw. To make him shut up. Hulk didn’t like the things this mean old bully was saying. But the Bully kept talking and he shoved Hulk through the wall of some big building. The inside reeked of chemicals. And the Bully just kept on talking!

“You’re not two different creature Bruce. You’re not a man cursed either. It all you. It always was. Even this infantile manifestation of your rage.”

Hulk charged again, roaring. This Bully kept on using big words Hulk didn’t remember but he hated the tone in his voice. It made him want to smack him into the ground, beat him till his pride broke. If he could just land a damn hit on him! The old Bully kept dodging and deflecting everything Hulk through at him. And despite getting angrier, he didn’t feel any stronger. When the Old Bully shoved him back into a giant vat, he didn’t feel a burn as it burned at his skin. Hulk just pulled himself back up to go hit him again.

But even he couldn’t keep this up forever. As they continued to brawl, Hulk could feel that sleeping feeling creep in. That was his signal Bruce would wake up. He couldn’t wake up Bruce yet. He had to beat this stupid bully first!

Then for a brief second the bully stopped. Looking Hulk up and down. Thinking of something.

“Perhaps I could show you… I could teach you. Help you embrace all of your egos as I have. Help you realize your full potential.”

Hulk snarled at him, spitting a little bit of acid he’d kept in his mouth in the Bully’s face. Out of all the things he tried that day that was the only thing to catch the Bully off-guard. Hulk grinned at the Bully’s disgust as he wiped acid off his face.

“Ugh! You disgusting- Guess I’ll have to teach you manners too!”

Before Hulk could pull away, the Old Bully grabbed him by the shoulders and knocked his skull into his. Stars spun behind Hulk’s eyes and he tried to pull away. But the Bully’s grip wouldn’t let up and he threw both out them outside and slammed Hulk onto the ground.

He was exhausted now. He was too weak. Banner was going to wake up soon. He could feel it.

“Oh no you don’t.” The Bully growled, slapping him across the face. “Your first lesson is this, you can’t use your personalities to escape, Bruce. You got to suffer through all your consequences. There is no Hulk.”

Hulk weakly tried to force the Bully off of him but he didn’t move. Hulk saw him hold something yellow and thin in his hand. And then he quickly brought it up Hulk’s arm. It burned as it cut through him. It pierced his skin. Hulk was unbreakable. Hulk was supposed to be unbreakable, but this needle pierced his skin! Hulk hated needles, hate having people poke and prod at him. He wanted to fall asleep, have Banner come back.

But he wasn’t change back now. Whatever the Bully forced into him was keeping Banner away. Hulk realized he couldn’t even hear Banner. Where the hell was Banner?!

He hated how helpless he felt. The old Bully picked him up and put him in a chair. Metal clamps came down on his hands, feet and neck. Hulk hated being pinned down. Hulk hated being trapped! He looked around desperately, hoping he might find Banner. God, he wanted Banner to come back right now. He’d know what to do…

He felt a tiny weight be settled in his opened palm. The old Bully dropped Tinman in his hand.

“You ok big guy?” Tinman said, rubbing at his thumb. “Big guy?”

Hulk wanted to respond but his mouth felt fuzzy and weird. His whole body felt fuzzy and weird.

“What the hell did you do to him?!” Tinman shouted at the Bully.

“What was necessary.” Was the only answer the stupid, old, stupid bully gave. Then the chariot was off, rolling away from all the little rebels.

Tinman kept rubbing at the hand he sat in. “Hey, hey, come on look at me big guy. It’s gonna be ok. I know you’re scared. I’m scared too. But we’ll figure this out and get out of here together. I promise.”

Figuring things out was Banner’s thing. Hulk tried to focus of the weight of Tinman in his hand while his eyes shut. Usually when he was tired he could feel Banner there, ready to wake up in his place. But right now he couldn’t feel anything. And as he closed his eyes he could only wonder desperately what on earth the Old Bully had done to his Banner.