#head in hands. some of these have been trapped in google docs hell for more than a YEAR | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zozo-01 · 5 months

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"but it burns me up when i let you down."

Google Docs said I started this fic back in August of 2022 and now two years and an accent change later, I'm finally done!! David and Darlin' unfortunately hold a part of my brain that refuses to leave me, despite my adoration for their canon counterparts. So its only fair if I gave them the same treatment that I do for the others!! :D

Thanking the lovely @thesunandmoons-blog, @lostinanothersmemories and @friendlyfaded for probably forgetting this fic existed, but it's here!! And thanking my beloved @taelonsamada and @nortyourself for reviving it again. Finally, a huge shoutout to @androgynouspenguinexpert for being the amazing beta they are and @floofdeloop for making the playlist where I got the title from!!

CW: No Angel or Sam AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Kidnapping, Torture, Blood, Broken Bones, Vomit, Character Death, it's off screen, Allusions to a Toxic Relationship and Sexual Assault, not explicitly mentioned but very much implied, Non-Consensual Trancing, vampires obvi, Quinn is a Bad Man, Canon Divergent, an alternative take on how the quinn storyline could have gone, Divine Intervention, it's me im the intervention, Love Confessions, in the most convoluted way possible, David is Bad at Feelings, And so is Darlin', Quinn is not British, apologies my bad for that, i started writing this two years ago and how so much has changed, shoutout to the Leafs once again except they're doing alright, for now

click here for the ao3 link!!

“Here.”

“Why the fuck are you giving me a necklace?”

“Thought it was pretty and you’d like it. So take it.”

“Alright, no need to be pushy baby Alpha.”

“How many times have I told you not to call me ‘baby Alpha?”

“And I won’t stop… I- um… thank you for the necklace… David.”

“...Of course Darlin'.”

David was chained up to the wall of what he thought was a basement. There was blood seeping into the hardwood floors, some of it was his and some of it was dried up from long ago. The style of the room was similar to a bar that Darlin' frequented during their lone wolf days. How he knew that wasn't important. Was the dried blood theirs? He shook that thought from his head. He had more important things to focus on. But they're important too.

It looked like he was trapped in a bar storage room, judging by the varying bottles of alcohol along the shelves. He couldn’t tell. His eyes were too damn blurry to see his hands when he held them close to his face.

He tried to lift his head from the floor, but it was throbbing with pain. The pounding registered as its own sound, but that couldn't stop him. He needed to lift his head, move his body, so he could see what the hell was going on.

His first thought was to shift through the chains, hoping that they would break with his larger wolf form. But one look at the handcuffs made him realize why that was a terrible idea. They were magic dampening cuffs, the kind the Department would use to contain 'dangerous shifters'. If he decided to try and shift through these cuffs, his wrists and ankles would have shattered. With no healer nearby, this would have been a death sentence.

David pressed his palms on the floor, attempting to get up. This time, he was able to lift himself onto his knees, ignoring the aches that seemed to be everywhere. After a deep breath, he straightened his back, leaning onto the wall behind him. As he shifted to sit in a more comfortable position, his eyes began to clear up. He was able to see properly again. He saw what—who was in front of him and sat there, body trembling at the sight of the man in front of him.

“So tell me, Alpha, how long do you think it will take for my little wolf to show up?”

He may not remember how he got here. What he did know is that the vampire Darlin' has been hunting for the last two years was in front of him.

Quinn sat on a chair, legs crossed and hands placed in his lap. He cocked his eyebrow. “Well, I’m waiting for my answer,” he said impatiently. Quinn wanted an answer now.

David took a deep breath. “They won’t be coming for me,” he said, lying through his teeth. Darlin' was the type to lay down their life for a stranger. They always cared more for others than they did themselves. If they had heard anyone was alone with Quinn, they’d haul ass to save them. Only God knows how fast Darlin' would be running if they knew it was David in Quinn’s clutches. Part of him was desperately hoping that they wouldn’t come. That they would have faith in him to save himself.

His more selfish side wanted them to be there. To see for himself that they were okay. To end Quinn’s life in front of them. To end their living nightmare.

It was his duty as their Alpha and it was his duty to his heart.

Quinn found David’s lie so amusing that he let out a laugh of disbelief, wiping the tears falling from his eyes. “Now that— that was a good joke Shaw,” he choked through his laughter. Letting out his final chuckles and calming himself, he got up from his chair and stalked towards the wolf. David tried to get up, but the chains locked onto his wrist were too short to let him stand. The most he could do was kneel before the vampire.

Quinn stood in front of David, eying the defiant Alpha. He crouched down to meet the wolf’s eyes. He glanced down to David’s bloody, snarling mouth.

“I forget how sharp shifter teeth are.” Before David could move away from the vampire, Quinn grabbed his chin and opened his mouth, admiring the shifter’s canines. “Reminds me how much they loved my teeth.”

David’s eyes went wide. ‘Makes me remember how much they loved my teeth?’ What the hell did he mean by that? He didn’t know what Quinn was saying and he hated not knowing. But he had an idea.

A deep snarl came from the wolf within him. The images of his— no, not his. As much as he wishes they were, Darlin' was not his to claim. The image of the wolf he knew laying on a bed - fuck, they’d look gorgeous on their back - with Quinn on top of them was enough to make his skin crawl. Picturing the vampire sinking his teeth into Darlin'’s neck makes him want to throw up.

“Oh? You don’t like that?” Quinn smirked, showing off his fangs. Fangs that had the luxury of marking their skin. “You don’t like the idea that they used to beg for my teeth? That my fangs had the pleasure of tasting them?”

David had to remove himself from this situation, at least mentally. He couldn't just sit there and let Quinn talk about Darlin' in such a demeaning manner. For a moment, David could forget about his predicament and just think about Darlin'. Their beautiful body and somehow more gorgeous heart. No one could have captured his heart the way they did, he'd keep

A sharp pain bloomed across David’s face, knocking him out of his thoughts, and his mouth filled with the iron taste of blood. It took him a second to realize that Quinn had punched him square in the jaw.

He looked up at the vampire, who was wiping the Alpha’s blood from his knuckles.

“Apologies for the drastic measures, but I can’t have you think of them like that.” Quinn paced around the room and his hands were clasped together as he spoke. “Believe me, I know they are incredibly attractive, but that doesn’t give you permission to think of my wolf like that.”

David took a deep breath. The chained up Alpha was in no position to make threats against the Old Blood in front of him, but he needed to say something to relieve the pent-up anger. He was going to explode from the rage at the thought of Darlin' ‘belonging’ to a man like Quinn.

In all honesty, David was fuming at the thought of Darlin' not being his.

“They’re not yours.”

“Oh really?” Quinn said in a low growl, daring David to finish his thought.

“They don’t belong to anyone.” David wolf howled right under the skin, and had it not been for the magic dampening cuffs, he would have made sure his body would be unrecognizable.

He cackled like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. “Is that sentiment supposed to make you feel better about the fact that my mark is on them?”

David’s jaw clenched as a smirk arose on Quinn’s face. “Am I wrong in saying that? My teeth were in their skin. My mark is on their body.” He let out a manic laugh, pacing around the room in a frantic glee, the total opposite of the calm villain role he was playing earlier. Darlin' probably just had that effect on him, unfortunately.

He knelt down, cupping David’s jaw in his hand. "Whether you like it or not, they’re mine. And I never let go of what rightfully belongs to me,” he sneered.

David snarled, trying to bite off the vampire's hand. The thought of him laying his filthy hands on Darlin' was enough to make him hurl, so why not do something to prevent that from happening, or at least try to? “You fucking touch a single goddamn strand of hair on their head, and I swear to God I will rip you to shreds.”

Quinn clicked his tongue, dropping David’s limp head, and continued to slowly pace around in the glorified dungeon. “It’ll be easier if you just—” he paused, placing his foot on David's back and crushing him under his heel, grinning at the grunt of pain the Alpha let out. “Give them to me. You could never love them the way I do, it's clear with the way you call them trouble."

David knew it. It was something he told himself every single night for years. He wasn’t good enough when it came to welcoming them to the pack. He wasn’t good enough to keep them away from trouble, and they had the scars on their body was proof of his failure. He wasn’t good enough to keep their heart from breaking, watching and doing nothing as they fell in love with the monster in front of him.

He wasn’t good enough back then and not much has changed since.

But he was better than the sorry excuse of a person sneering at him.

David gathered the spit and blood and bile in his mouth. He refused to lay down and let Quinn say another word about Darlin’.

But as Quinn's ears perked up, David's heart sank. There were footsteps coming down the steps, rushed and desperate to reach the basement of the bar. One sniff of the air confirmed who it was sprinting towards him, the last person he wished it was. And the person he was desperately hoping for.

Darlin' had found him. They were racing straight for the belly of the beast.

"They always hated to be late," he mused, soft and sweet like he had the right to think of them like that. Quinn turned back around to David, a crazed and wicked smile on his face. "Shall we give them a warm welcome, Alpha?"

David didn't want Darlin' to see him like this; his stomach curled at the thought. As Alpha, he tried to maintain that aura of invincibility that was expected of him. Any comment that compared himself to his late father made him beam with pride, all efforts made to replicate his presence rather than replace his father with his own leadership. But it had taken some time to find his stride with his new title, and Darlin' was instrumental to that. It was them who continued to stand by his side, even when his displaced anger should have scared them off. Yet Darlin' knew what pain hid under his anger, and he's incredibly thankful for them being patient with him.

From then on, he made an extra effort to control and compose himself around them. Apologies through acts of love weren't uncommon, and for a man who's as bad with his words as he was, actions spoke volumes. It wasn't fair that Darlin' had to constantly deal with his outbursts without any respite, so he opted to give them an extended break.

Covered with blood from various sources and broken beyond repair, David was far from the usual picture of poise. He pulled against his shackles in a vain attempt to be free, if not to save himself than at least to provide them enough time to run away. The chances of both of them escaping were improbable, but he can make sure that at least one of them will be free.

"What the fuck did you do, Quinn!?" they screamed with desperation, their voice entering the room before they did. He couldn't help but smile, at least he would see them one last time before he died.

Quinn's arm wrapped around David's neck like he was giving him a noogie, squeezing it and causing another choking fit. "Oh you know, precious, just two buddies hanging out, ain't that right, Davey?" His smile darkened, or maybe it was the blood around his mouth. If you take away all the gore and move this scene to a picnic field, this could have been cute. David chuckled in his head, morbid thoughts like those were exactly what he needed to keep sane.

With no fear for their safety, Darlin made a move to step forward, only to stop when Quinn clutched his neck, nails breaking skin and dragging down his back. "If you take a step forward, I will hurt him."

Hesitation flashed in Darlin' eyes, and he hoped that it would be enough for them to turn their back and run. (It wasn't, and it never will be.)

Stomping towards the two and their claws peeking, David could feel their core become a ferocious snowstorm, cold and vicious, making sure that there would be no survivors. "I swear to God, if you don't let him go, I will—"

Familiar pain burst across David's neck, teeth and claws becoming too familiar to differentiate at this point. He wanted to throw up at the lewd moans that Quinn let out, disgusted that this man- monster was finding pleasure in his pain. He shivered at Darlin' being in his spot, the one who Quinn's fangs dug into. Quinn had passionately spoken about their blood, to an obsessive and slightly creepy extent.

Biting David had the effect that Quinn wanted on Darlin', with Darlin' stopping dead in their tracks. Their fearful eyes locked with his, retaliations dying in their throat. Despite being frozen in place, David could see them go backwards, going back to the person they were when they were with Quinn. All the healing they had achieved was undone at sight of the monster in front of them.

He tried to speak, willing to beg in front of them to leave, but any attempts to speak were crushed like his windpipes. Quinn's doing, of course.

"Quinn, please…" Darlin's voice quivered as the anger within them died down, while David's rage continued to fester. How dare Quinn bring fear to their voice after going on about how much he cared for them. If Quinn really loved them as much as he claimed to, then he wouldn't be doing all of this. But it wasn't love that he felt for Darlin', it was the desire to control them.

"There's my precious little wolf," Quinn cooed, letting David's limp body slump onto the ground. He was glad that Quinn finally let him go, but David was too concerned with the way Quinn was stalking towards his wolf. He tried, Lord knows he tried, to crawl towards Darlin' and save them, but with all the injuries, he was lucky to move a finger.

To their credit, Darlin' didn't take a step back as Quinn got closer. Davidd knew it was because they refused to let him scare them. Defiant in the face of death, dying as a martyr with conviction of steel was an honourable way to die.

Their cold expression faltered a little bit when Quinn started to play with their hair. Growls died in David's throat, the only noise he was letting out was blood choking him to stay quiet. His inner wolf was begging to let himself out, but try as he might, he couldn't tackle Quinn where he stood. David didn't know if this hurt him more as their Alpha or as the man that loved them.

"What do you want, Quinn?" they asked, careful to not look him in the eyes, presumably to stop them from being tranced tonight. Darlin' took a moment to compose themselves, giving their signature killer look that would turn Quinn to ash. But they weren't Superman, and this wasn't a fairy tale.

(It could be if you wanted it, no? You have the power to turn this around and make sure everyone leaves tonight alive. They would be broken and bruised and would never forget this night, but they'll be able to remember. So please, help us, save them.)

(Darlin's hand slipped into their back pocket unbeknownst to the two men. They were lucky that their silencer was on.)

"Oh precious, that's no way to greet your man," he purred, eyes trailing their body in a way that made Darlin's skin crawl. He held the side of their face, nails digging into their cheek and making them look into his eyes. They ignored the pain, keeping their eyes shut to stop any trancing. Drawing blood from their face, Quinn growled, "open your damn eyes, mutt."

"Oh please, you never needed to trance me to force me to do whatever the fuck you want," they said with a cold fury. David's mind conjured up the worst of what they meant by that. He threw up at the thought of it, more blood leaving his body.

Sick bastard that he was, Quinn laughed. "It really is so much fun to make you, I love seeing your fighting spirit." His smile dropped, voice going cold, making another switch from his frantic personal to someone more composed. "But I need you to open your eyes, pretty thing. You wouldn't want me to bite your Alpha—"

Quinn didn't need to finish his sentence before Darlin' shot their eyes open, pleading with him to not hurt David even more. He didn't know why they were so set to defend him, he could take care of himself. What the fuck was the point of being Alpha if he couldn't protect the people he cared about?

"Quinn please…" David wanted to cry at how quiet Darlin's voice became, an effort to not set off the vampire in front of them. It was too rehearsed, a tone they practiced many times in the reflections of shattered mirrors. "Why are you doing all of this? I don't understand why you can't just leave me alone."

"Well it's quite obvious, precious," he started, his hands trailing from their face to their waist. "I want you back, sweetie. I've missed you, your love, your care, your intoxicating aroma," he sniffed the air around them, moaning at their scent. "It's nice to know that after all this time spent with these wolves, you still are my ferocious little thing."

"They're not yours!" David yelled out as best as he could, even though his voice was still muffled by the blood in his throat. It wasn't a lot, but it was better than sitting on his broken bones and doing nothing.

Quinn glared at the Alpha behind him, finally acknowledging his presence. Finally, David was getting bored back here. "Which brings me to this mutt," he said with so much disdain, it filled David up with pride that he was able to make Quinn hate him as much as David loathed him.

Darlin's eyes went wide and their mouth moved before they could think. "He didn't do anything wrong—"

"Oh yes he did precious, don't you dare try to protect him," he sneered at them.

Finally letting go of Darlin', Quinn stalked around the room, eyeing the two wolves with accusations ready at his lips. "You never really loved me, not the way I loved you." He stopped a few paces behind them, staring David in his eyes. Good, as long as that fucker looked at him and not Darlin', then it would be a good thing in his book.

“So that got me thinking, why could you never commit fully to me? Why wouldn’t you compromise your ‘moral compass’ for me? Why didn’t you love me the same way that I love you? It hit me." Frantic voice and manic eyes had David wondering how on Earth Darlin' was able to love a monster like him. They were the only person he knew that would treat this vile creature with love and respect that he didn't deserve.

"But I did love you," they said with hurt and guilt in their voice.

"But you didn't!" he finally yelled out. "You couldn’t because of how you felt for him.” Quinn pointed at David.

…Darlin' loved him? Darlin' loved him.

This was a dream come true in the most nightmarish way possible.

He had no time to ponder on this new revelation, already light-headed with the way his heartbeat pounded. A selfish part of him was happy that his feelings were reciprocated, that they long for him the way he did for them. But like this? Against their own will and him bolted to the wall, there was no way this was their ideal way to confess. Knowing them, they'd probably have a meticulous plan to make sure that everything went perfectly. They'll never have the chance to confess the way they wanted to. Neither would he.

His rationale came back to him after the initial high. He may have not known Quinn the same way Darlin' did, but from what he'd heard and seen from him tonight, he was a delusional and jealous asshole. Never trusting anyone to have pure intentions. He couldn't fathom that he was the issue, so he might have created this reality to remove himself from any accountability from what he did to Darlin'. Yeah, that must have been it. It broke his heart, but he'd rather a lie than Darlin' having their feelings ripped out of them to be on display.

(David remembered how casually their parents would talk about their biggest failures, as if it was gossip to them. How Darlin' would laugh along with their parents' friends, in a vain attempt to stop themselves from crying. Dance little wolf, dance for us, they would yell out, finding joy in every fumble and misstep. Yet they never stopped, always getting back up and entertaining the crowd. Ripping their heart on a silver platter to feed the wolves around them, but it was never enough. So they would break and build themselves to entertain and if they could get a good laugh, then their job would be complete.)

Again Darlin's shining eyes stood in stark contrast with their stern face. "Congratulations, you spilled my darkest secret," they said coldly. Their darkest secret? David could see their magic coursing through their veins, ready to shift at a moment's notice.

"The fuck are you going to do now?" they asked while cracking the bones in their hands, a sign that they were itching to fight but desperately needed to calm down.

"No need to bring out the claws, pretty thing. Unless you're going to dig them into me," he cackled, but the sick desire to be mauled by them was painted in bright colours on his face. Quinn took a couple steps towards them, standing between himself and Darlin'. "I just want one thing from you, precious," he started with a composed tone. "Come back with me, and I let your pathetic Alpha leave tonight alive."

The only thing that was stopping David tearing Quinn apart limb from limb were the stupid fucking magic dampening cuffs that were still on his wrist. So instead he pleaded to anyone above who was listening to force Darlin' to turn away and run. He might not have been able to save them back then, but he could at least stop them from reliving the same tragedy.

David could feel Quinn's fingers dig into his hair, pulling him up to look into his rotten eyes. "Don't speak while they make their decision, mutt," he ordered and with a flash of red, he felt the trance take over his body. Throat constricted and choking on a silent scream, he couldn't do anything while Darlin' was mulling over their options.

There was no point in trying to guess what choice they would make, it being as obvious as they were beautiful. David tried to memorize every inch of them before they were gone forever.

Darlin' had always been too selfless for their own good, always putting others over themselves. It was what made David so obsessed with them, finding beauty and good in even the most despicable people. They had a gentle heart, one that was beaten and hardened with life but at the very core still remained one of the best people he's known. If given the option to save themselves or another person, they would choose the other no matter the circumstances.

They looked up with determined eyes and a final answer. David tried to scream and yell to get them to stop, but both their resolve and the trance were too strong for him to overcome.

Walking up to Quinn, Darlin' put their hand in his. A sheep walking straight into the jaws of a wolf.

"I'll go with you, only if you promise to leave the pack alone," they demanded, making sure their sacrifice would not go in vain. Not that it would stop him, but empty promises were always better than none.

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll make sure that your silly little pack will be ok," he sighed with great effort and rolled his eyes. David couldn't help but be disgusted, not understanding how anyone could act like they needed to inflict pain to survive. "Besides, why need anyone else when I have you for the rest of our eternity?" he asked in glee, knowing his answer already.

(There were wolf howls in the distance, not far, but not close enough to make it there in time. They needed to find a way to stall him a little longer.)

Before Quinn could drag Darlin' off to their doom, they resisted, pulling back their arm to make one last request. "I want to say goodbye to him," they requested while looking at David. If they were scared, then they were doing a good job of hiding it. Something told him that he was the more terrified one between the two.

Quinn tried to argue against it, saying that if they stayed a second longer then he would go back on his promise. But with enough pleading and ass-kissing, he relented. "You can have your last goodbye. Make it count though because you'll never see them again," he sneered, spitting in Darlin's face in a show of dominance.

They didn't respond, not wanting to test him even further. Not when David was here and in immediate danger.

They shuffled over to David, kneeling to be on eye level with him. Holding his broken and bruised face in their hands, he could see the amount of unsaid words running through their head. David tried to speak again, cursing the trance for forcing his silence. He wanted to reassure them that no matter what, he would always love them. That he was sorry for not telling them sooner. Maybe if he had they wouldn't have to turn to Quinn in the first place.

But most importantly, he wanted to tell them that he would hunt Quinn down, that through hell and high water that he was going to bring them back home. This wasn't a promise, this was a declaration that David would follow through with.

Finally finding the words to condense the years of love that they buried within themselves, Darlin' opened their mouth to speak. “I love you David," they whispered, tears already dropping onto their cheeks. "And I’m so sorry it has to end this tragically before it can even begin, but I would do the same thing. A hundred times over. In every damn universe where I have the honour and privilege of being able to love you.”

Darlin' did love him. And he repaid that love with nothing but pain.

Quinn clearly had enough with not being the center of attention, deciding to take matters into his own hands to take Darlin' away. "Let's go, precious," he growled while dragging them up to his feet and pulling them away from David. "And before we go," he said, grinning while grabbing the necklace around their neck and ripping it off into a broken chain. "We don't need any extra baggage with us, right?" he snarked, glaring right at David. Quinn knew exactly where the necklace came from.

It was the necklace David gave Darlin' the night he realized how he felt for them.

As he tried to scream after them, his vision began to blur. Fuck, he couldn't have been passing out now! Not when they were still too close for him to save. But he lost too much blood, it being a miracle that he was still able to move, even if it was to hold his head still to look back at him. The further Quinn walked away from them, the looser the trance became. It didn't matter though, his voice was raw from earlier, and his body couldn't move with how beaten he was.

Darlin' managed one last look behind them, with one last apologetic look. He couldn't do much, but he could at least let them know the answer to their forced confession.

'I love you', he mouthed over to them. Tears were already welling in his eyes, knowing he would never get the chance to say to them properly, with confidence and love.

But it seemed like that was all they needed. Vision fading, his last image of them was a content smile and the thought that they were loved was all they had asked for. Darlin' deserved so much more.

His eyes closed, hoping that maybe this would be the end of this nightmare. Maybe when he wakes up, Darlin' would be beside him, or even in his arms. Wouldn't that be lovely.

(The other wolves were close enough to help, leaving nothing but carnage and an unrecognizable corpse in their wake.)

–

"Oh God, is he gonna wake up?"

"It's gonna take time for him to wake up. Quinn left did a shit ton of damage, so the healing magic's need to take his time to work properly."

"Thank you, Marie. I don't know what we would have done without you."

"No problem, Asher. How bout you and Milo go grab us some food to eat? It's been a hell of a week for all of us."

"No problem ma."

"Hey kid, you alright?"

"Hm? Oh. Yeah I'm good. It's just… weird seeing David so… vulnerable."

"But he's alive and that's all thanks to you, Darlin'."

"He wouldn't have been hurt if it wasn't for me!"

"We both know this ain't your fault, that was Quinn's. So don't be out here blamin' yourself for shit you didn't do."

"…Ok, I won't shit on myself."

–

David never was a deep sleeper, always waking up at the slightest sound in the area. So why didn't he wake up to the sound of another person's breathing in the room?

He opened his eyes, immediately wanting to go back to sleep. Exhaustion was so embedded in his bones and his throat was as dry as sandpaper. Looking to his bedside table on the left, he saw a water bottle and silently cheered. He uncapped it and chugged it down, getting some feeling back into his mouth.

He was so focused on his thirst that he didn't realize Darlin' was sleeping in a chair to the right of him.

His breath hitched. How on Earth were they still so pretty while they slept? So serene and peaceful, David would do anything to keep them in this state. The detail that stood out most to him were the tear tracks on their face. Who the fuck made them cry? Where were they so that he could give them a piece of his mind and a bite with his teeth.

His head throbbed in pain with memories from what he felt was last night. Quinn torturing him to lure in Darlin'. How fucking creepy he was when they showed up. The way he was about to drag Darlin' away from him and the pack permanently. The confession that seared itself into his brain.

Oh my God. They confessed their feelings to each other.

In his pondering about the confession, he didn't realize that Darlin' had woken up. It was only when they jumped into his arms to give him the biggest hug they could have given anyone.

"Thank God you're alive," they said softly, voice muffled with their face in his chest. Frozen and unsure of what to do next, he followed his instincts and wrapped his arms around them. One arm snaked his way to their back and he put the other on their head, giving them a little massage. (Their gentle hands were nothing like Quinn's harsh ones.)

Reluctantly, they both let each other go, letting their hands linger on the other's body. Silence filled the room as the two wolves stared at each other, his green eyes meeting their tear filled ones. David brought his hand up slowly, giving Darlin enough time to move away if they needed to. But they didn't. He wiped the tears falling down on their face, watching as that simple action was enough for them to break.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," they sobbed and apologized profusely, pretty eyes not looking at him anymore. He was scared that they were going to pull away from his hand, but instead they went back to burying their face in his chest.

David was confused. He didn't know why they were apologizing. If anything, he should have been the one saying sorry. Had he been not stupid enough to get kidnapped by Quinn, then they wouldn't have felt the need to play the martyr. Not that either of them were to blame, the reason was hopefully left to burn in the sun.

"Shhh, this wasn't your fault," he said to comfort them, rubbing a hand up and down their back. They pulled their head back and he could imagine all the arguments that they were willing to bring up as a rebuttal. He wasn't going to let them get the chance to atone for the sins of a dead man, especially one as cruel as him.

Before they could open their mouth, David held them by the shoulders. "Hey, nothing was your fault," he said sternly. He needed to be clear with them, lest they carry this unwarranted guilt with them for the rest of their life. "You don't need to apologize for what that asshole did to the both of us. Look at me when I tell you this," he emphasized while tilting their head up. "Everything, all of this, that was Quinn's shit, not yours. Don't let the leech tell you otherwise."

A shaky sigh and nod indicated that they heard him loud and clear. But he knew that Darlin' hearing his words and understanding them were two different things. It was ok though, he was going to stand by their side and help them through this.

Another period of silence settled in the room, this time with stiff and uncomfortable air. David didn't know how he was going to address the fucking confession. There was no denying their feelings for each other, no way to downplay their words to just a heightened adrenaline rush. So close to their hearts coming together, only to let circumstances from putting their hearts on their sleeves.

He was tired of letting circumstances dictate when or how he got what he wanted.

"I have tickets to the Dires game if you want to come with me." He absolutely didn't have tickets for the game, given how hard they were to come by. But he was sure that he could use his connections to get some. Anything for Darlin'.

Confusion grew on their face. "…You don't like hockey," they said with a questioning tone, and they weren't wrong. He was never a fan of any sports, not finding the intense stress he's seen his friends go through worth the struggle. But he could learn to like hockey for them. He could learn to like anything for them.

He shrugged to hide the fact that his heart was beating erratically. Acting in the most nonchalant way was his only answer to not making a fool of himself.

Ever observant as they were, Darlin' asked him, "is this your way of asking me out on a date?" They nailed the coffin that buried David's confidence.

"Well yeah, only if you want to of course." He stopped himself from rambling, it would have been unbecoming of him as an Alpha. But David couldn't help but let his nerves and anxious thoughts run rampant until they gave him an answer. The butterflies in his stomach were at their beck and call, and there wasn't any other way he would want it.

"Well, I guess I can't say no to free tickets," they giggled. It was a heavenly sound, worth all the pain and strife he'd had to go through in his life. If he had a purpose in this world, it was to keep them smiling, and he was going to take that job seriously.

He told them the details about the date, when to get ready and when he was going to pick him up. While he was talking, he was trying to find a way to get tickets, going through all of the contacts that he knew. If all else fails, maybe he can beg Milo for his tickets. Dreams can come true and David was going to get those tickets somehow.

Mustering up the confidence, he leaned in closer to their face. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, making sure he had their full consent before kissing them. (He couldn't help but remember what they said about Quinn forcing them to love him.)

"Mm, I don't know," they teased with that perfect smirk of theirs. "I only kiss after the first date, Davey." Their sultry tone did nothing to hamper the desire to bite their lips.

Instead of rejection, he laughed at their joke. "You're such an asshole," he said, in awe of the beautiful wolf in front of him.

"Yeah, but you love me."

He did. He loved them the way water rises to kiss the moon.

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted fanfic #redacted david #redacted darlin #redacted quinn #david/darlin #i promise ill write for sam/darlin and angel/david to make up for this #but the parasites arent leaving me alone #zo writes tingz #this is zo speaking

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halcyon-writings · 3 years

Text

- holding out your palm under their chin (hcs)

note(s)/warning(s): the title sounds kinda wild but it’s fluff i promise, no spoilers, my thoughts are too much, reader is gn + not rosa/the mc (bc she’s here and that’s weird dating urself we aren’t 3h /j) surprisingly enough my first entry for this series is not angsty who would’ve thunk

nav.

feat. marius, luke, vyn, artem, and rosa

marius von hagen

the one who’s teasing you about it, maybe a slight laugh too. looking from your open palm to your eyes with a the corners of his crinkling in amusement. He even raises his eyebrows a few times to add to the humor of it all. But he’s going to indulge you all the same, after poking some more fun of course.

“I didn’t think you could be so cute!” He exclaims, and of course you want to either smack him or kiss him (or both). You pull your hand away which makes him fluster instead, He still wanted to do the thing where he rests his chin in your palm. After much convincing (which meant to stop his whining that got several looks from other people) he finally gets his way.

He bats his eyelashes and pouts when you laugh at him. But doesn’t quite move just yet. And seeing how you move to cup his face with both hands, suddenly the so confident pax group leader flushes. he protests loudly as you laugh while letting go. (He likes it more than he wants to admit). And you suddenly have a thing for him whining. Huh, who knew.

luke pearce

Luke, you beautiful soul you, would look at you a bit confused when you hold your hand out out of the blue. Confusion spreads across his features because he can’t remember you handing him anything. Perhaps followed by a small panic because what if you did and he forgot and then lost it. He’s patting his many pockets on the familiar jacket before you grab his attention again.

Your hand is held out again, and this time Luke tilts his head, akin to a confused puppy. And you probably have to reach up, palm placed underneath his chin. He processes it for a moment, before his entire face heats up, and he sputters out a question about your antics. But he doesn’t move his head away either so really, who’s winning here.

Once he recovers, and you’re certain he won’t spontaneously combust, he sends a wide grin your way. And like previously looking like an excited puppy, all he was missing was the ears and the wagging tail. This man loves physical affection, and literally would love this so much. Don’t @ me I’m right.

vyn richter

Ah Vyn. Now unlike the previous two, it would take a bit more to surprise him, or even fluster him. He sees you raise your hand up to his chin, just enough that he’d have to lean down slightly. Raising a delicate brow with a small amused quirk of his lips, “Oh?” And despite you literally having him in the palm of your hand, it feels like you’re the one that’s been trapped instead.

Not one to state his want outright, rather nudging slowly, Vyn relishes the contact just as much. I imagine that he’s also another that’s a bit touched starved (ig they all are huh). Looking up at you through his eyelashes. There’s soft adoration in his eyes, it’s no surprise if you suddenly combust at the way he looks at you. Vyn is just that charming and he knows it, using this skill for evil /j. “Is this what you wanted?” He asks.

But unlike the previous two, he ends up flustering you. Leaning just a bit more forward, tilting his head, when you feel him kiss your palm. Also peering up at you slightly just to get a glimpse of your reaction. It seems that he got the last laugh instead, well played doc, well played.

artem wing

This poor man. You’re gonna end up confusing the hell out of him and that is a fact. If the man had to consult a book on how to ask someone out, he probably wouldn’t even know what you want him to do unless you say so outright. But it’s okay, his confusion is cute so it’s whatever. Probably makes a note of this to google it or smth, just in case,,, can’t stand him /j. But just because he’s a little confused, does not mean that he won’t do it.

Literally all you would have to do is ask nicely and man will go to the ends of the Earth for you. His happiness is quiet, but still he’s enamored all the same. If he could bring both of your hands to cup his face, he would but the thought of that probably gets him all flustered. (He once turned so red when his hand brushed against yours once, even Celestine had decided to have some pity for the poor thing and didn’t tease him that time).

He’s literally boyfriend material, wtf. Probably the second that flusters you albeit unintentionally because once he gets it, it’s as though a lightbulb pops up above his head. Artem is just so earnest in his affection (I’m gonna go kiss him rn smh), like idk if it’s y bias towards him but please imagine him doing this it’s so cute

rosa

MISS ROSA!!!! My beloved,,, I know we can technically give her any name we want but I like this name for her. Another sweetheart who get’s flushed when you hold your hand out in front of her/beneath her chin. She’s aware of the cute trends, and in no doubt thanks to Kiki as well, but still, she thinks it may be cheesy to ask for such couple-y things to do. But she still loves them.

As her s/o, you can get away with teasing her (Marius is punching the air rn). Just please have mercy on her, you’ll make the poor woman combust or smth. But once she gets over the slight embarrassment, she loves it. Also probably does it to you from time to time so she can see you get all flustered. It’s a hollow victory bc Rosa is also red in the face but it is a victory all the same.

If you also work at Themis, just know that Kiki may or may not squeal at the two of you and now you have everybody’s attention, good luck! (It’s okay get her back with smth about idol merch and she gets sworn to secrecy, easy peasy).

#tears of themis imagines #tears of themis x reader #tot imagines #tot x reader #marius von hagen x reader #luke pearce x reader #vyn richter x reader #artem wing x reader #tot rosa x reader #tot marius x reader #tot luke x reader #tot vyn x reader #tot artem x reader #xia yan x reader #zuo ran x reader #lu jinghe x reader #mo yi x reader #jesus this is a lot of tags oops #mine

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magratpudifoot · 2 years

Text

We watched The Devil in Ohio in its entirety yesterday because that's the kind of thing we have time for these days, and I think I completely broke my Netflix profile by telling it we didn't like it. I never, ever give streaming services more data than they are already mining just from tracking the things I'm watching, so it's a testament to how much we didn't like it that I actually clicked the thumbs down.

We were watching it as a kind of endearingly over-earnest bit of nonsense with some vaguely interesting stuff going on, and we were having a decent time (though neither of us were engaged with it enough that we didn't get up and do chores without pausing it). But then the ending...

Literally the only way the ending doesn't send me into apoplectic rage is if we're meant to understand that the protagonists' nuclear family is also a cult with the father as leader, and I AM HERE FOR THAT INTERPRETATION (let me show you my vast array of non-fiction about cults and the many forms they take), but that feels like an oppositional reading that is too smart for the piece.

It's possible I could have been persuaded to give it that much credit, but nope, not after reading more. In googling to try to get to the bottom of how someone gets to act as both executive producer and writer on the adaptation of their first novel*, I came across an article claiming that the novel/series was "based on true events'', citing the author's hearing second hand about the experiences of an anonymous source** and "research" that included Gone Girl, that noted non-fiction account of a cult survivor.

Presumably "based on true events" here means that cults exist and sometimes people leave them.

Of course, the fact that the big bad in the story was specifically a satanic cult*** had pretty well convinced me that the writer of this thing had never heard of Steve Hassan, Rick Ross, or Janja Lalich...which would be more forgivable if the main character weren't a trauma psychologist who presumably would at least do a quick look round to see if there is any scholarship on how to help people who have escaped from cults.

JEEBUS.

*A first novel which I, as someone who goes directly to the horror section in bookstores and occasionally attends a sf/fantasy/horror literary conference, had never heard of. WHERE DID THIS COME FROM, AND WHO DOES THE WRITER KNOW??

** Obviously obviously obviously this is EXACTLY the sort of story that would be sourced anonymously. I am not doubting the existence of people who escape horrific abuse and don't want their business publicized to the world. But before we go making "true story" claims, I'm going to need some more substantial evidence of corroborating research than a couple pieces of fiction, a recovered memory testimonial, and one legitimate documentary about a not-even-remotely-related cult. (Holy Hell is an incredible doc if you have the stomach for it [trigger warning for sexual abuse if you do look for it], but N O T H I N G about it has to do with Devil in Ohio, to the point where I honestly think the writer may have just claimed she watched it because it sounds like it should be about Christian theology in some way.)

*** Heads up for those who don't spend 90% of their free time reading about cults, satanic cults are...pretty fucking rare, compared to Christian cults and capitalist cults and white nationalist cults and extraterrestrial cults and cults that spring up around random people with malignant narcissism. But what isn't rare is people weaponizing the specter of satanic cults against marginalized people, so this is a particularly fucked up time to have the (rural isolationist terrorist) cult be ~~spooky satanists~~. Hat tip I guess for at least having them use some of the trappings of Christian religiosity?

Also, HEY, remember that time they tried to do a Heathers series where all the awful popular characters were people of marginalized identities, and the kids they were picking on were white? There's a whiff or two of that going on here, too, for all its attempts to be Inclusive(TM).

#I am still furious about this #how did this thing even get found to be optioned #and the fact that Netflix is going to throw more money at this because we let it run continuously and talked over it and hated it #than Sandman which we took our time with because we wanted to *absorb* it as Good Art #is just sending me #no one asked you ms p

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baoshan-sanren · 4 years

Text

Chapter 55

Emperor Wei WuXian And His Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Birthday

Google Docs file

“I want to see A-Yuan.”

WangJi suppresses a sigh, and makes no response.

Jiang WanYin, who has likely never suppressed a single thing in his life, bristles like a cat, “Are you deaf, as well as stupid? The Lan Sect Leader has ordered that you rest. Granny Wen has ordered that you rest. You are not going.”

Slumped against the pillows, Wei Ying does appear feeble and weak, his body motionless in a way that suggests an exhaustion too deep for needless activity. It had taken a long time to remove all the trappings of rank necessary for the audience he had held. It had not taken nearly as long as the initial preparation, but long enough where even Lady Jiang had looked worn down by the process. WangJi’s task during this time had involved standing on the other side of the screen, listening to the faint mutters, and being handed layers upon layers of silk. The disrobing process had resulted in a succession of whispering, slithering sounds, both of silk against silk, and silk against Wei Ying’s skin, sounds that will doubtlessly haunt him in his dreams.

He is not precisely tired, but he is beginning to feel brittle in an unfamiliar way. The day had been long and stressful, allowing no time for contemplation and reflection. There will be consequences to the assistance the Lan Sect had provided to the Emperor. There will be consequences to such a blatant attack on the Divine Ruler, and these consequences may range anywhere from a set of executions, to an outright war. There will be consequences to Wei Ying’s actions today, the audience he had held, his defense of Wen RuoHan, his order for the immediate release of the Wen Sect from the Imperial dungeons.

Only days ago, WangJi would have disregarded the majority of these events as issues beyond his scope of understanding and responsibility, but today, he cannot. Soon enough, this will be his world as well. The Second Young Master of a disgraced Sect need only obey. The Emperor Consort must understand the complexities of ruling an Empire, the consequences of each decision made, the hierarchy governing the sect relations, and the full scope of the delicate balancing act that keeps the Empire peaceful and prosperous.

This is the cost of marrying Wei Ying, a price that WangJi is more than willing to pay. But it is a cost made no less overwhelming by his willingness.

Wei Ying’s expression turns stubborn, “He is alone among strangers, thinking I am on my death bed. I want to see him.”

“Wei WuXian,” Jiang WanYin says tightly, “if you can get up right now and walk out of this palace on your own two feet, you can go see A-Yuan, or go straight to hell for all I care.”

Lady Jiang may have acquiesced to his request, but she had taken her leave. The Imperial guards could have been ordered to carry Wei Ying anywhere he desires to go, but this would defeat the purpose of keeping the child hidden.

Wei Ying had been ordered to sleep.

WangJi thinks, if he could only be persuaded to close his eyes and stop speaking for a moment, the exhaustion he is trying so hard to ignore would accomplish the rest.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whines, turning his head, his eyes large and shining, “I want to see A-Yuan.”

Wisps of hair are stuck to his cheek, curving around the line of his jaw. His face is pale, but his lips are no longer bloodless, hovering just on the verge of a pout. WangJi knows that this is an expression Wei Ying has used before; he has seen it turned on Lady Jiang, and he has seen it throughly shatter her resolve. He remembers thinking Lady Jiang too easily swayed by such obvious tactics. He remembers thinking that he, himself, would never fold so easily by a mere hint of a pout.

WangJi is a fool. Love must permanently remove the most essential parts of one’s brain, because he can say absolutely nothing in response to Wei Ying’s plea.

Instead, his mind unhelpfully provides the memory of Wei Ying’s braid coiled in his lap. Wei Ying’s temple pressed to the side of his neck. The rich scent of ripe pears. The curve of Wei Ying’s waist through the heavy silk of the Imperial dragon robes.

Underneath these memories, his mind is hopelessly sifting through possible solutions to the issue. Wei Ying most certainly can not walk out of the palace on his own two feet. He can not cross his own chambers without being supported, and would likely need to be carried any longer distances. A-Yuan cannot be brought to him, as the situation at court is still dangerously tense, and the child must remain hidden.

“If you attempt this,” WangJi says carefully, “you will fall ill before you reach him. It will scare the child, to see you so weak. But if you must go see him, I will carry you.”

Jiang WanYin splutters.

Wei Ying’s eyes widen.

The expression on his face, the baffled disbelief slowly melting into a familiar softness, is so open, so transparent, that WangJi feels his own face heat in response. He is suddenly finding the embroidery on Wei Ying’s bed curtains extremely fascinating.

“You are both right,” Wei Ying says after a few moments, “I should not go tonight. Tomorrow is soon enough.”

“Ugh,” Jiang WanYin says, “Now I feel ill too. Just go to sleep.”

“You leave first,” Wei Ying says, “I want to speak to Lan Zhan.”

Jiang WanYin makes a noise. It is a wordless one, but it still manages to perfectly express a hefty dose of disgust. He leaves quickly, as if afraid that Wei Ying will begin to speak to Lan Zhan before he has managed to make his exit.

Wei Ying reaches out, but seems to do so unthinkingly, the motion immediately interrupted by a hiss of pain. Perhaps the wrist injury is not the most serious one he had suffered, but WangJi has noticed him forget that particular pain often enough, where each resurgence catches him by surprise. In two steps, he finds himself by the bed, but once there, he is forced to stop and practice some self-restraint.

“You promised to be more careful,” he says, “The Head Healer should have strapped that arm to your chest.”

He means it as an admonishment, but his voice does a poor job conveying anything other than worry.

“It does not hurt,” Wei Ying lies with a smile, “Come sit next to me. That way, I do not need to move much.”

Only moments ago he had insisted that he is well enough to visit A-Yuan. Now, he is too weak to move on his own, and must have WangJi sit by his side.

WangJi wonders why these brazen tactics, which would be abhorrent in anyone else, are so irresistibly appealing when employed by Wei Ying. He wonders if there is anything about Wei Ying that will ever be unappealing. He is, again, forced to consider the possibility that love makes one unbearably stupid, and that this is precisely why he has already moved to sit down by Wei Ying, without giving the consequences of such action any further thought.

Wei Ying reaches for him again, the moment he has settled on the side of the bed, and WangJi takes his hand carefully, supporting the splinted wrist with his palm.

“You said you would not move.”

“I forgot,” Wei Ying says shamelessly, his fingers warm against WangJi’s pulse.

“You should sleep,” WangJi admonishes.

“I will,” Wei Ying says quickly, “but I have not-- had the chance to speak to you. After-- the Gifting Ceremony.”

His gaze lowers to their joined hands, fingers restless against WangJi skin, despite the fact that even this small movement must pain him.

“A great deal has happened,” he goes on, the words rushed, “There is so much I was not aware of before. About YanLing DaoRen, and his use of resentful energy, and this-- apparent affinity for demonic cultivation present in his descendants. The Lan Sect takes pride in the purity of their cultivation techniques. Over the centuries, they alone have remained unblemished by unorthodox practices.”

He falls silent then, letting WangJi try and make sense of the words on his own. This feels much akin to Wei Ying’s proposal, where WangJi must separate the words, then place them in a different order, just to discern the meaning behind them.

Once he does, however, he feels frustration and fondness flood him in equal measures.

“I still want to marry you, Wei Ying.”

“You--“ Wei Ying shifts, “Are you not worried? This affinity does not bother you?”

“Will you begin practicing demonic cultivation?” WangJi counters.

“What? Of course not!”

“Then it does not matter,” WangJi says firmly.

“How can it not matter?” Wei Ying says, agitated, “YanLing DaoRen nearly destroyed the Empire. He slaughtered thousands. How can you be sure that his madness will not become my own?”

WangJi, prepared to call his assertion utter nonsense that it is, pauses before speaking. It had not occurred to him that Wei Ying would be so throughly rattled by Nie HuaiSang’s revelation.

In retrospect, it seems obvious that this had to have been the purpose of Xue ChengMei’s story. To sow doubts and fears, not just in Wei Ying, but in all those closest to the Emperor. A filthy tactic, meant to cause chaos and uncertainty. It is no wonder that Song ZiChen had demanded no one speak to the boy.

“Wei Ying,” WangJi says carefully, “You are not YanLing DaoRen. I am not Lan ZhongYi. We exist under the shadow of those who came before us, and bear the burdens they have placed on our shoulders. But we are not them.”

Wei Ying’s breath stutters, his fingers pressing against WangJi’s wrist.

“But--“

“We spoke of Lan ZhongYi, and the reasons behind his actions. Do you remember what I said to you?”

“My mother did not kill Xu XiaoYun,” Wei Ying says softly.

“And I did not kill the Empress,” WangJi responds.

The words feel much lighter than he had imagined they could be, if ever spoken out loud.

Wei Ying falls silent, a rare enough occurrence where WangJi allows it to happen. There are now dark shadows under his eyes, and it takes a great deal of restraint not to issue another reminder about the necessity for rest, and long, uninterrupted sleep. Perhaps Wei Ying’s stubbornness requires a different type of approach. WangJi is starting to believe that any firm insistence on a specific course of action is more likely to propel Wei Ying in a completely opposite direction. This is something that will require further thought.

“You still want to marry me?” Wei Ying says, the corner of his mouth now slightly lifted, an expression that is not quite serious, but not quite teasing either.

“Yes,” WangJi says, “I still want to marry you.”

Wei Ying grins, shifting a little closer, “Will you allow me to make the announcement? Before the Lan Sect departs?”

WangJi is certain that the events of the last few days have already reached Cloud Recesses. The delay to consult with the Elders seems pointless now, as the rumors of the betrothal have been running rampant since the last Sect Leader meeting. Uncle’s actions, during and after the Gifting Ceremony, must have only served to reinforce these rumors.

It is difficult to decide which course of action will result in greater impropriety. An immediate announcement, or a lengthy delay, during which the entire court will ruthlessly judge his every interaction with the Emperor. The Emperor who is wholly unashamed of expressing his affection, and insists on behaving as if they are already betrothed.

WangJi sighs, “You must obtain uncle’s approval for the announcement.”

“Will you come and visit A-Yuan with me tomorrow?”

WangJi nods. It is a small enough request, and he is fond enough of the child where a visit would not be a chore.

“Will you spend the night?”

“Wei Ying!”

It is unbearable, the sheer number of times Wei Ying can make his face heat in a single day. How can an Emperor be so utterly shameless?

“Ahh, Lan Zhan, do not be angry. I only meant that you should stay in the Imperial chambers. What if I were to fall ill during the night and need assistance?”

Carefully, WangJi places his hand back down, and rises from the bed, “If this is the case, we should summon the Head Healer right now, and request that she spend the night in the Imperial chambers.”

Wei Ying splutters, “Wait-- that--“

“I would not want to take the chance of you falling ill during the night.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whines, “Why are you so cruel? Can I not ask my future husband to spend the night with me?”

“No, you may not.”

“What if I were to find myself unable to sleep, and in need of company?”

“Summon the Royal Companion. I am sure he will be equal to the task.”

“But--“

WangJi bows deeply, “Good night, Your Majesty. I will take my leave now.”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying’s voice follows him out into the hall, “Hey, Lan Zhan! Wait!”

WangJi closes the door behind him, and turns to the nearest guard, “His Majesty requires the presence of the Royal Companion. And the Head Healer.”

The guard does not question the order.

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #ficlet #m #wwx emperor au #wangxian #wei wuxian is whiny #lan wangji is mortified #jiang cheng hates them both #we're gonna check on xue yang next #then find out what nie mingjue has planned #at least one person will die by the last chapter #but they will have deserved it #thank you for all the nice comments guys #ily chickens

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ka-writes · 3 years

Text

——————

Notes- Did I decide I was gonna write a fic at 2:00 AM? Yes yes I did... anyways I don’t have an archive account yet but I wanted to get it out there.... um here is chapter one of my space AU, because I absolutely fell in love with the AU.

——————

Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

——————

Ohh also challenge if you wanna do it, fill in the Title! And another one... if you were an alien what question would you ask a human other than basic questions, like name and age.

Also suggestions are always appreciated! And if you wanna support my main blog it is kadoodle.. also I have no updating schedule so I will when I want to.

——————

Warnings: Cussing, mentions of tight spaces and characters being trapped, mentions of corpses, and needles.

——————

“Humans are [Insert text here]”

Chapter 1: Idiots kidnap the wrong kid..

Honestly, life hasn't been bad. His needs were met, most of the time, and he had a.. place to sleep…

Yeah no life wasn’t great.

Tommy was easily, barely, avoiding Social Services. Sleeping on benches and occasionally grass. He got whatever wasn’t wanted and had an official bag for the first time. He had some spare clothes, and no money. The authorities stopped looking for him after a while and the only main challenge was getting essentials.

No one would miss him. No one would look for him. Therefore he was the perfect target among many others. The only thing setting him apart was his sheer ability to survive, not a want, like many of the others, it was a fact he would survive. Not that his captors knew that of course.

Alternative: Tommy gets kidnapped by aliens and sbi rescues him.

——————

He woke up in a cage.

Not a cell or a room, a fucking cage.

There were a few others in various cages around the room. All of which were either dead or close to it. Most of the ones still alive had been there for months, possibly years. No one knew of course.

The smell of rotting bodies stenched the place with a coppery coating. The room wasn’t large but not quite small. It was dull grey with layers of grime settling on the floor and cages. The room was long and skinny, lined with cages against either wall in a zig zag format. The only light was coming from the small door window, which happened to be positioned right in front of Tommy. It glowed a faint yellow and was blurry, not allowing Tommy to see into the hall.

Shadows would occasionally pass by the window. None ever stopped at it. Causing the ever growing hunger to grow more. Once one had stopped at the door, not for more than a second, before it screeched. It was inhuman and sounded like a hurt hawk from one of those nature documentaries. Tommy shoved his hands onto his ears and waited for it to stop. The thing chuckled, not like a human, but something close to it.

——————

Tommy waited for what seemed like hours before something happened. The door opened, sliding into the ceiling. A weird looking creature stepped in. It looked like it had a porcelain mask over its face with a painted smiley face. There were no ears or hair, instead just more porcelain, which formed a spear which sat on shadows. The thing was wearing a lime green hoodie and black leather pants that seemingly faded into the creature's legs. The knees bent inwards causing it to look awfully awkward as it crouched near Tommy’s cage. The hands were long and lanky with no real palm. The creature also had a tail that looked close to how Tommy pictured a devil's tail to look. This was the first time in ages Tommy was glad to be behind bars.

The thing pointed at itself and said,

“Dream.”

In the most heavily accented English Tommy had ever heard. That didn’t matter as much of the fact that the seemingly painted smile moved with the words.

“Come.”

The creature unlocked the cage and half dragged Tommy out of the cage into what Tommy presumed to be the lab. He noticed a window. The only thing for miles was stars. He was in space. He had been kidnapped by Aliens. Fuck.

——————

Humans were a heavily avoided species. The things were what kids would expect to come out of their closet. They were feared, and for good reason.

The first ship to find Earth was ecstatic. Finding another intelligent species in what would’ve been deemed as a planetary desert was a scientific breakthrough. Causing the entirety of the media to go insane for a couple of years.. That was until the first ship ventured onto the planet. It was immediately shot down. The entire crew was killed and the entirety of the ship was destroyed in a matter of minutes. The ISF (Intergalactic Safety Force) deemed it as a no flight zone and claimed to punish anyone in the desert. Even so poachers smuggled humans and within days had their ship crashed.

The only ones allowed to take humans were scientists, who were specialized in taking care of difficult species. They were allowed to test on said species and do whatever they wanted, in the name of science of course. Most people didn’t care how they treated them and were really only interested in what could kill them.

Which is where Wilbur came in. He was a toxicologist, a scientist studying poisons, he also dealt with various potions and other chemical mixes. This knowledge is what gained his entry to the Dream Team Ship.

He had been testing on around nine different humans for the past six months on the celestial calendar. This time Dream, his boss and the captain, brought in a juvenile human. He was skinny and lanky. Clearly had been starving before being taken. He felt bad before shaking off his pity.

“V74 and V83. Make sure he can communicate beforehand.” Dream promptly stated before leaving the kid in the room.

Wilbur tried not to think about his terrified face, before he clipped on the translator. Usually it is worn on the back of the head, since humans brains are vastly different than most species, it is clipped to the left side of the head.

The translator looks like a simple device when in reality it took dozens of celestial years to perfect it. It’s a small silver disk that ingrains into the part of the brain that controls communicating. After the body gets used to the device it can translate any language into one you understand instantly.

It took a couple more years for the translator to incorporate the estimated 7,000 languages spoken on Earth. For a planet that has been isolated it has a more complex and diverse set of cultures and languages, than Pellucidian has had in centuries. To say Wilbur was jealous, wouldn’t be far from the truth. Not that he studied cultures for a living. It was something that always interested him.

He put the device on the kid’s head and grimaced at the pain that was on the kid’s face. He quickly dried up the blood and mixed a solution that would ease the pain. It was clear and tasted like water, which is the only way they got humans to take the pain reduction.

The kid relaxed for a spilt second before tending at the unfamiliar setting.

“Where am I?” He snapped, causing Wilbur to jump back a bit, before collecting himself and standing up.

“The Dream Team craft’s labatory.” The kid’s face flashed with panic for a split second, “You have two testings scheduled for today. It will go quickly.”

“Will it be painful?” The kid asked. As standard for testing, Wilbur ignored the question and measured the substances. He quickly cleaned the puncture spot before giving him the needle.

The kid winced in pain. Wilbur swiftly led him to the testing chair. It had restraints that moved with the patient's body, which prevented bruising while keeping them in place. Wilbur clicked them on and sat at the desk located to the left of the kid.

“What did you inject into me?” The kid asked clearly trying to fight off the anesthetic.

“A dosage of Lidocaine, which is an anesthetic for your species. It’s only to numb pain that may come with the solutions we will be using today.” The kid’s face flashed with a deeper panic than before, causing Wilbur to tense. “We won’t start yet, since we have a list of questions to go through before we begin.” Wilbur lied. He hated testing people, especially kids. Dream of course didn’t care, like the rest of the Dreamon species. It made him sick. That was when he made a split second decision. Hoping he could get a distress signal out, without alerting the other crew members. He was gonna get the kid off the ship, at the next stop of course. Which was in three celestial hours.

The kid scoffed, clearly not believing the lie. He paused a moment thinking over his options before he smirked,“Fine. Ask me what you want bitch-boy!” Wilbur gasped, clearly not anticipating the insult.

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Chapter 1 End

1406 words

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End notes: Why the hell does google docs make it so hard to copy and paste??

Also I had to do some intense googling for this... I hope you enjoyed!

(Also also this is my first ever fanfic... please give feedback and reblog!!)

Minor mistakes are forgiven... don’t expect me to be perfect... I am dyslexic.

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Tommy: ....

Wilbur: ....

*intense starring*

Wilbur POV: I am kidnapping it.

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Chapter 2:

#my writing #my fanfic tag #okay 2 rb #tommy mcyt #wilbur soot #dream mcyt #dream smp fanfiction #sbi au #space au

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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years

Text

Empires on the Horizon XIV

Jason is a CEO: Part XIV

masterlist for other parts, more jercy, bad headcanons, and an abundance of crackships

SURPRISE!!! i finally got my laptop back and thankfully they didn’t have to wipe anything so i still had all my work! Between you and me i was more worried about all my fanfics than my uni work...... But I’ve learned my lesson. Do everything on google docs now!! Anyway this is a Percy POV and i hope you enjoy because i’ve missed this little universe more than you could possibly know and we’re finally (only fourteen chapters later) getting to the jercy part of this fic?! LOL it’s been wild.

i know i’m releasing a ton of fanfics at the moment so i hope you guys don’t feel overwhelmed. You know i adore your comments and thoughts but please don’t feel pressured to read all the fics i’m posting. I’ve just had a lot of time in the last weeks so it’s been easier to create. Please take care of yourself, i love you very much and i hope you have a magical holiday season!

Percy Jackson stretched his legs out in front of him and draped a blanket over them. There were few things he indulged in, but a good plane seat was one of them. He was spoilt for it but having the space to lay his unreasonably tall body down for eight hours seemed like a worthy investment. The announcements that continuously filtered through the crackly speakers were background noise as the bustle of people getting to their seats flowed throughout the cabins. He stared out his little window at the neon-jacketed guides and airport officials directing people to wherever they needed to be. He loved watching people just do things. There was something calming about knowing others weren’t interested in him in any way. That people got on with their lives despite the turmoil nobody knew about.

A flight attendant stopped next to him with a polite smile, “Champagne sir?”

“No thank you, a water please. Too early for alcohol.” He grimaced.

Mirth danced in her eyes as she glanced up at the rest of the passengers, some dangling flutes between their fingers. “Absolutely sir, anything else?”

He shook his head, before leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. His pre-flight ritual, which consisted of him snuggling as comfortably as possible it his seat and trying to fall asleep, was already behind. The presence of a certain blonde-haired, blue-eyed CEO taking up the scattered pieces of his mind. It was crazy to think they had met almost a year ago, crazier still to think that about how much they had changed in that time. Percy at least felt like a completely different person to the one who had stepped off a plane from Hawaii all those months ago and attended his alma mater’s dinner. Although the university had surprised them with plaques honouring their contributions, it was seeing Jason Grace, learning about him that felt like the real reward. Hell, he was only half joking when he said he’d marry the guy the next Tuesday.

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen. Please take your seats and fasten your seatbelts. We will be taking off shortly. In the meantime please turn your attention to the screens in front of you for a video detailing the safety measures you will need to know while aboard this flight.”

He blinked back into the world and turned half his attention to the screen and the other half to locating the blonde he couldn’t seem to keep away from. He knew the safety briefings by heart, but he always felt bad for not paying attention. Someone worked hard to make those. He didn’t spot Jason in the two minutes the video played and then it was too late because the plane gave a low rumble and suddenly, they were lurching into motion. His heart climbed to his throat and he gripped his fingers underneath the blanket.

“Okay Percy,” He mouthed to himself, “You can do this. It’s at most fifteen minutes of instability and then you’ll be up in the air and you won’t even feel it.”

“Just fifteen minutes.” He kept repeating, taking deep shaky breaths. “Fifteen minutes.”

The plane jaggered down the runway, slow enough that he could still read the road signs indicating altitudes and compass directions and all sorts of fun information he didn’t care about. He felt the huge machine turn into the long stretch of tar that led them to the sky and his stomach clenched painfully. This was always the worst part. Take off. It felt like his entire body flew off with the plane while he stuck to the ground, superglue cementing him to the floor with no escape. He didn’t feel free. He felt torn.

The plane gave a horrible lurch and then it was screaming down the runway, grass and yellow lines blurring past them. They were going so fast he’s sure they’d break the sound barrier. He squeezed his eyes shut. Knuckles white as he twisted his hands together. The plan flew down the road and into the sky. His whole body felt suspended in space. He wanted to come down. He didn’t want to be here. Even with his eyes closed he could feel how high they were. He hated it.

Slowly, the plane started to level out until he felt his body realign: feet under him, hands beside him, head above him. He opened his eyes, spots dancing in his vision as they got used to the light once more. The seatbelt sign dinged above him, and a series of clicks followed. People got up to use the bathroom and grab things from the overhead compartments. He wasn’t going to get up until he was out of this plane. So he shoved his headphones over his ears and pressed play.

I will always love you how I do

Let go of a prayer for you

Just a sweet word

He gazed out the window, clouds close enough to whisper to, and his lips pulled up in a soft smile. The sky was beautiful. It just sucked that they had to get into a death trap to get to it. With his ocean eyes pinned to the balls of cotton hanging in the blue expanse his mind drifted. Reyna. He blinked. It was almost shameful how little he had thought of her since their breakup considering their year together. She had taught him tai quan do and baked him blueberry tarts. They had escaped to a little bubble in the forest and watched the leaves turn brown as they tumbled in bed. He knew she tapped her right foot when she was annoyed but her left fingers danced when she was excited. He knew she liked her eggs fried hard because she didn’t have time for sloppy yolk, but she liked them scrambled soft because it meant a richer croissant. But despite this she did not light his soul on fire. And he did not light hers either. They were merely striking matches without wood to burn. He heaved a sigh as he watched the threads of his relationship flutter before his eyes and fell asleep to them disappearing in gold strands leaking into the clouds. He succumbed to the bright sun and the soft warmth of memories and he didn’t wake until a loud announcement gave the signal that they were landing.

It was over so fast he didn’t have time to panic and he was grateful. Finally he was collecting his bags and walking out. A driver with his surname scribbled on a plaque stood front and center and with a quick flash of his ID and a hello they were piling into the car. He didn’t get a chance to see the blonde beauty, but the island was small and time was a plenty. They would find each other again.

“To the hotel sir?”

“Yes Luca, and then please stick around for half an hour. It’s just a quick freshen before I go to work. We have a lab meeting.”

The man nodded and then focused on the busy Italian streets they were navigating. He took in the colours and sounds as they whizzed by. It felt like a different universe. People were loud and excited and full of life and the little markets seemed to pull energy from the sun and direct it into joy. He wanted to tell Luca, to pull over, screw work, and take in the beauty of this little section of the world. But his phone buzzed in his pocket and he knew with a disappointed sinking in his chest that adventure would have to wait.

“Hello Percy,” Rachel Elizabeth Dare bubbled, ‘I assume you’ve arrived?”

“Yes Rach,” He sighed but amusement caught between his lips, “Have you got news for me?”

“No,” She sounded suspicious, “Why would I have news for you?”

“Because you only track my exact times when you want something but you’re too scared to ask me so you wait till I’m halfway across the country before asking.” He wanted to laugh as she made an indignant sound.

“Okay fine,’ She grumbled, “I wanted to know if I could close up the scuba for the weekend. I met a girl and i wanted to go out on Friday night with her.”

He couldn’t hold in his laugh any longer, “Of course you can Rachel. But I’m curious to know…” He trailed off.

“Ugh you are impossible.” He could imagine her eye roll so vividly. “It’s Clarisse. The principal from your old school.”

“Well, well, well,” He grinned, “I better be getting premium seats to the wedding.”

“Why does everything always end in weddings for you?” She groaned.

“Scuse me for wanting a happily ever after.” He scrunched his face, “Oh and guess who’s here?”

“Is this a good guess or a bad one?”

“Good.” He smiled, “Very good.”

She gasped, speaker crackling at his ear, “Tell me!”

“Jason Grace.”

“What?” She squealed, “Are you guys going to have hot rebound sex and then realise you like each other more than just casual fuck-buddies and end up getting married and adopting like six children?”

He burst with amusement, “Slow down there Rach. I know I throw around the marriage idea, but kids seem like a big commitment.”

“You right,” She said decidedly, “Kids are a lot of effort. Just get married then. But no eloping!” He pictured the crease in her freckled brows. “I want to be a bridesmaid.”

“Can’t promise anything,” He giggled.

“Perseus Jackson!” She scolded.

“Oof the full name.”

“I will tell your mother and she will kick your ass.”

“Okay, okay,” He laughed, “No eloping. I have to go. But remember to take the keys for the scuba with you. We do not need the fire department breaking the door again.”

She grumbled about hating him and then blew him a kiss and ended the call. With a smile still playing on his lips he thanked Luca and rushed into the hotel. Thankfully the check in was painless and fast and he was stumbling into his room in no time. He barely had time to appreciate the gorgeous floor-to-ceiling windows and the ocean view it laid out before him. He promised himself he would take the time when he got back.

Quickly he hopped into the shower cursing when he realised he’d forgotten to take his socks off. With a horrified shudder he peeled them off and chucked them into the laundry basket, thankful it gets emptied every day. The water beat against his back, fogging up the glass and calming the racing in his veins. He gave himself the luxury of one extra minute to just take a deep breath and screw his head back onto his shoulders and then he jumped out and shoved on a pair of black slacks and a white button down. He didn’t bother to do the top few buttons, figuring he’d have time in the car. Instead he fastened a watch to his wrists, rolled up the sleeves till they sat at his forearms– any attempt to bear the Italian heat– and then he slid his feet into a pair of sleek ankle boots and mussed his damp curls. With half a moments glance at the mirror to make sure his face didn’t have patches of sun-cream and his collar was straight he grabbed his briefcase and walked out.

Glancing at his watch distractedly he rounded the corner, only to bump right into a hard chest.

“Oh,” He frowned, stepping back into a door. “Jason.”

“Hey,” The blonde smiled, “What a coincidence?” He laughed.

“You’re staying here?” It was really starting to feel like the universe was trying to tell him something.

‘Yep,” He gave a shy smile, blue gaze bright. “Guess you’re going to see a lot more of me then you expected huh?”

“I think you may be at more of a disadvantage than me.”

Jason looked at him, eyes dragging from his face down his body and eventually dropping to his shoes. Percy gave an involuntary shiver as the blonde tracked the same slow pace back up. “I think this could be very advantageous.”

“If you don’t stop staring at me like that I’m going to be very late for my meeting.”

He laughed, the previous sultriness giving away to a sparkle and flashing white teeth, “See you around Jackson.” He started walking away.

“Wait!” Percy called, “Date? Tonight? We can explore the city together?”

Jason smiled as bright as diamonds, “Sounds fun. Meet you in the bar at?”

He realised their time depended on when his meeting finished and suddenly, he wanted to cancel the whole thing and start now. ‘Seven thirty?”

“See you there. And have a good meeting.”

The blonde walked away, and Percy felt this time like he was floating away while his body remained superglued to the floor. He wanted to live in this feeling. Because this did not feel like being torn apart. This felt like coming home.

The elevator dinged down the passage and he crashed back to reality. With a string of curse words he raced for it and jumped in just as the doors began to close.

The meeting and subsequent lab tour felt endless and he concentrated on little less than half of what was being said, his mind more interested on the things waiting for him at the hotel, the person. But eventually it was over and him and Luca were cruising towards the Casa de Vita.

“Anything else you need sir?” His driver looked at him from the rear-view mirror as they turned into the hotel road.

“Recommend any good places for a first date?”

“Already met a lady sir?” Luca’s dark eyebrows almost touched his hairline in surprise.

“A man actually.”

The Italian chuckled, nodding his head as if in on some invisible joke, “The Tesora. It is just down the path and near the ocean.”

“Thank you Luca, have a goodnight.”

“And you sir.” Luca winked before peeling out of the entrance and fading into the setting sun.

Percy strolled to his room with a smile on his face, lost in a world full of possibilities. It was unsurprising then that he didn’t see the extra bag against the wall, or the shoes neatly placed by the door that weren’t his.

He took off his watch and undid the few buttons on his shirt, head lost to the glimmer of the ocean. He let his shirt fall open as he slipped off his shoes and walked towards the windows. The view really was spectacular. No matter how much he travelled it always blew his mind the places that existed, that he had yet to learn of. It was irresistible. It was perfect. It didn’t fail to cross his mind that the ocean was the exact same colour as a certain pair of gorgeous blue eyes. He blinked the image away, turning around, and his gaze landed on that exact aquamarine gaze.

“Jason?” He gasped, clutching his chest in surprise. “What are you doing in my room?”

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@leydiangelo

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@lucyisblue

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#empires on the horizon #part 14 #jercy #jason is a ceo #jason grace #percy jackson #baby fanfic #baby fanfic series #pjssg fanfic #pjssg series #pjjg fanfic #pjjg series #jason #grace #percy #jackson

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littlelovelyspiderling · 5 years

Text

Finger Painting

this has been sitting in a google doc for a while cuz it’s not my favorite but I might as well post it cuz I haven’t posted in a hot sec

Peter decides to prank his teammates in attempt to cheer everyone up, only for his teammates to prank him back using their new favorite mood-lifting method.

words: 4,010

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Peter Parker loved pranks. Who didn’t?

Growing up, he and his uncle used to engage in long, elaborate prank wars all the time, each trying to one up the other. The mischievous game of back and forth never ceased to leave them both in stitches. Nowadays, May rarely passed up the opportunity to douse his food in pepper flakes or splash him with water while they were cleaning the dishes together. It was her way of keeping Ben’s playful legacy alive.

And after all of the pain and suffering the Avengers had gone through over the past year, Peter figured it was time to bring some of that playfulness to the team.

Initially, he planned to prank each member one at a time. While the spar room was empty, Peter had snuck in with his means of destruction. He and Stark were going to test how effective his spidey sense was at warning him of impending threats when he couldn’t see them coming. Little did Tony know the blindside that was coming his way.

He waited on the ceiling, grinning sinisterly as approaching footsteps met his ears. But to his surprise, it sounded like more than one pair of feet. Voices joined the footfalls as the door opened, and Stark, Sam, and Rhodes entered the room.

“—test his response to multiple attacks from different directions,” Tony said, shutting the door behind them. Then he stared forward, finding the space before him vacant, and a frown gnarled his features. “Wait, where the hell did he—?”

Three birds, one stone, Peter thought. I’ll take it. Triumphantly, Peter tore the webbing away. In an instant, fifty water balloons filled with paint rained down from the ceiling and pummeled the men below, dousing them in explosions of color. Startled cries and yelps jumped from their lips until the assault finally subsided. The superheroes were left stunned and soaked from head to toe, sputtering in disbelief as a waterfall of laughter came pouring from overhead.

“Haha!” Peter howled. Everyone looked up at him bewilderedly. “Thihis is so much better than I expehected! Your fahaces—oho gahad—I cahan’t!”

He knelt upside-down and doubled over with giggles. Stark scoffed, tongue-in-cheek.

“Peter? You did this?”

Rhodey wiped his eyes and blinked repeatedly. “That certainly was…unexpected.”

“You little punk!” Sam hollered, flicking the paint from his hands in disgust. “Oh, you are so asking for it.”

Spider-Man didn’t seem to be listening to them. He was too busy laughing his ass off and pounding his fist against the ceiling. Seeing some of the world’s most famous superheroes dripping in paint was just too hilarious. Despite how annoyed they were with his prank, the Avengers couldn’t help but smile at the kid’s hysterical reaction.

“Oh mahan, I cahan’t breathe,” Peter wheezed. “This is the best day ever.”

“Come down here,” Sam said. “I think I can change your mind.”

Spider-Man shook his head while giggles continued to spill from his lips. Tony ran his fingers through his paint-soaked hair and grinned at the others.

“Come on guys, don’t be such sticks in the mud. The kid’s just trying to have a little fun. Right, Spidey?”

Peter was surprised how well Mr. Stark was taking an ass-load of paint-filled water balloons to the face. He nodded between chuckles. “I mean, yeah. You’ve all seemed kinda down lately. I was just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Oh, of course. We all understand.” Stark glanced between the other three men. “You know what? I think it’s time we followed Pete’s lead and had a little fun of our own. What do you say, fellas? You in?”

Peter’s giggling faltered. Sam and Rhodey shared a knowingly diabolical grin.

“Hell yeah we are.”

Before Spider-Man could ask what they meant by that, Sam pulled a metal rod from his belt and flung it at Peter as hard as he could. Spider-Man barely flinched out of the way, his spidey sense triggering his reflexes an instant quick enough. Not a second later, a taser round and a stun blast flew at him and struck the ceiling mere inches from his body. He stared down at the group with wide eyes.

“Here’s a fun idea: let’s see how long his dumb second sense thing can keep him safe from our vengeance.”

“Wait—hey—guys—it was just a joke—”

Projectiles started zipping towards him, one after the other, promising a world of pain if they hit their target. Peter scrambled across the ceiling with a yelp, shuddering at the idea of what they would do to him if he was caught. This was not the kind of retaliation he was used to.

“Come on! I used washable paint!”

“Spread out,” Tony instructed his drenched, candy-colored team. “Don’t give him any place to hide.”

Sam and Rhodey did as they was told. At least none of them we wearing their full avenging outfits; if that was the case, he’d be toast in an instant.

Peter ducked and flipped and somersaulted through the air as rounds and objects whooshed past him in a relentless wave. The room was big, but not big enough for him to evade three attackers forever. His spidey sense was in constant tingle mode. All right, that’s it. Peter cartwheeled across the ceiling and fired a glob of webbing at Sam, which glued his arm to his side. While the middle was exposed, Spider-Man threw himself between Tony and Rhodes and shot a web-splat into both of their faces, rendering them blind for a moment. The distraction offered Peter the opportunity to stick to the door and pull with all his might.

But it was locked. And he didn’t know how to open it. Spider-Man was trapped.

And since he’d doused all of his enemies in paint, it didn’t take them long to free themselves from the webbing. As Peter cursed and darted back up the wall, Stark shot at him with his watch-gauntlet. The projectile hit Spider-Man’s left hand.

“Ow!” He flinched, nearly losing his hold on the ceiling. Peter held his stinging hand to his eyes. A strange metal block was stuck to it. To his disbelief, the metal started spreading over his palm, up his fingers, thickening rapidly. It looked an awful lot like Tony’s nano-tech. When he tried to pull it off with his other hand, the metal film spread to that one, too. Soon enough, both hands were shrouded in thick metal prisons. Not only did they make his hands incapable of sticking to any surface; now he could no longer fire his web-shooters.

“Crap! What is this?” Peter yelled, sprinting across the ceiling. He dodged another one of Sam’s projectile attacks, but that led to a misstep, giving Stark the chance to hit his right foot with another chunk of nano-bots. Peter froze and flailed with only one foot stuck to the ceiling: his last line of defense against the unforgiving consequences waiting for him down below. If he lost his hold, he was done for.

“Ah! W-wait!” He dangled helplessly by his toes, a sitting duck. Then Tony hit his left foot with nano-tech the same time Rhodey fired a stun blast into his back. Spider-Man dropped from the ceiling and hit the floor with a grunt, sprawled flat like roadkill.

“Ow…ugh…” he groaned. He tried to reach up and rub at the bump on his head, but his arm wouldn’t move. Neither of his arms would. In fact, all of his limbs were pinned to the ground. Peter looked at his wrists to discover the nano-tech had morphed into clasps that were firmly glued to the floor. The same went for the nano-bots on his ankles.

“What the—?” he cried. “I can’t move!” Sam, Rhodes, and Stark converged on him, smiling viciously.

“Gotcha,” Wilson sneered. Spider-Man grimaced and struggled against the restraints.

“Come on, guys. Why are you being so mean? I was just trying to cheer everyone up.”

“You did,” Tony replied enthusiastically. “Now we’re just returning the favor.”

“I don’t think you understand how pranks work,” Peter huffed. “Attacking me does not make me very cheery.”

“True,” Sam concurred, kneeling beside the young hero, “but if my memory serves correctly, I’m pretty sure this does.”

Sam reached out and gently fluttered his fingertips against Peter’s tummy, causing the teen to cringe. It was the last sensation he expected to feel, yet he should have seen it coming. The three of them knew all too well how ticklish poor Spider-Man was.

“Aha!” he squeaked, dread rushing through him and blush consuming his face. “N-noho! No it doesn’t!”

“Really?” Sam asked. He swirled his index finger in a long, slow circle across the kid’s belly, smearing his costume with purple paint while also making him twitch and leap. “Because if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were smiling under that mask.”

“Stahap!” Peter giggled. This was so bad. This wasn’t the first time they’d used his extreme ticklishness to torment him, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Except, unlike past instances, in this scenario, he was stuck to the floor—helpless to protect himself. He was totally, utterly screwed. How did he always get himself into messes like this? When would he ever learn? Peter squirmed and wiggled in attempt to get away, but it was no use. He was stuck, restrained, and growing more and more flustered as Sam’s tickly fingers started moving faster and faster across his vulnerable tummy.

“I bet he is smiling,” Rhodes said, sitting on the floor opposite of Wilson. He pinched the top of Spider-Man’s mask. “Why don’t we take this off and see?”

“Noho!” Peter whined as Rhodey pulled his mask off his face, revealing the blushing, smiley teenager underneath. He bit his lip to try to feign composure and stem the endless outpouring of giggles, but was immediately foiled by Sam squeezing both of his sides right above his hipbones. Peter threw his head back with a shriek, floundering like crazy.

“Aw, see?” Tony cooed. “Look at that happy face!”

“I think our prank is really lifting his spirits!” Sam said. He kneaded his thumbs deep into the kid’s torso, chuckling as he jumped and bucked and giggled wildly.

“Nohahat hahappy!” Peter squealed.

“Not happy?” Rhodey repeated, sharing a devious look with his friends. He reached out and spidered his fingers right above the kid’s armpits. “Are you sure? Maybe I should help, then. Your happiness is our number one priority, after all.”

Before Rhodes even touched him, Spider-Man’s giggling jumped higher in both pitch and volume. “N-nohohaha!” he cried, pulling valiantly at the metal cuffs pinning him arms above his head. “Rhohodes, wahait—”

Ignoring him, Rhodey went straight for the kid’s weak spot. He needled and clawed at Peter’s exposed underarms with all ten fingers, switching intensity and tactics every few seconds to keep him guessing. He poked and pinched, then scritched and scratched, then dragged his fingernails up and down the full length of Peter’s arms, all while Sam was busy curling his hands into claws and shaking them into Spider-Man’s ribs and belly. Peter was at his wit’s end being tickled by just one person; he was certain two would be the death of him. And as soon as Rhodey’s fingers made contact with his skin, his suspicions were confirmed.

“AHAAhahahagh!” Peter screeched, whipping his head from side to side. “Shihit—wahahait! I cahahan’t—I cahahahahahaaa!”

“Can’t what?” Sam inquired. “Can’t believe how much we’re cheering you up?”

“Spidey’s got some pretty ticklish underarms, doesn’t he?” Rhodes observed, fluttering his fingers all over the unbelievably sensitive spots.

“He’s ticklish all over. It’s hilarious. Just a little poke here, a little poke there, here a poke, there a poke, everywhere a-poke poke…” Sam jabbed and wiggled his fingers into every inch of the kid’s tiny tummy. As much as he tried to fight it, Peter jolted and squeaked beneath his every touch. It was like they knew exactly what to do to render him a squirming, blushing mess. To be fair, it wasn’t a very difficult feat, and they had experience on their side. This was not the kind of revenge prank Peter had been anticipating. It was unbearably cruel and effective.

As they continued to tickle torture the poor teen, Sam and Rhodes couldn’t help but giggle at the Peter’s childlike laughter. They, like most people who knew the kid well, were starting to understand why Tony was so endeared by him.

Meanwhile, Peter was falling to pieces. His loud, squeaky belly-laughs were rapidly being replaced by hiccups, and the feeling of four hands endlessly teasing and tweaking two of the most ticklish areas of his body was driving him insane. There was nothing he could do but wriggle and twitch and laugh until his sides ached. There was no escape in sight. He had to make it stop.

“Merherhercy! Merhercyhy!” Peter pleaded. “Ihi’m gohonna dihihihie!”

“Can you die from too much happiness?” Tony asked. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

Neither of his tormentors seemed to be listening to him, so Peter turned to his mentor. He looked up at the billionaire from his defenseless position on the floor, tears shining in the corners of his eyes. “M-Mihister Starharhahaaak!” he squealed between another bout hiccups. “Hehehelp me! Plehehehehease!”

Tony tilted his head to the side and smiled sympathetically. Peter was too cute for his own good. “Aw, kiddo. Are you sure we’ve lifted your spirits enough?”

As Stark was saying this, Sam started grinding his knuckles into Peter’s ribcage, and Peter thought he might explode. He arched his spine and squeezed his eyes shut and screeched with helpless laughter.

“Ahaha! Yehehes! Plehehehease! Nohoho morhorhahahahaa!”

“I don’t know,” Rhodes said suspiciously. “Are we sure we’ve gotten him back enough? He did douse us in paint, after all.” James brushed his fingers along the sides of Peter’s neck experimentally and grinned when the kid scrunched his shoulders to his ears with a sharp giggle of surprise. “Damn. You really are ticklish everywhere, aren’t yah?” He scuttled his nails all over Peter’s neck, occasionally drilling his thumbs into the muscle right above his collarbones, and watched as goosebumps flared across what little skin Peter had exposed. The kid thrashed as much as his restraints would allow with a slew of high-pitched laughter.

“I think he needs at least two more minutes of solid cheering up,” Sam said, scratching Peter’s tummy as if he were giving a puppy a belly rub. “Would you care to join us, Mr. Stark?”

Tony sighed as he looked down at the giggly superhero, then smiled. “Two more minutes,” he said adamantly. He sat down by Peter’s twitchy feet and grabbed his left foot in his hand.

“NOHOHO!” Peter begged, trying and failing to wrench his foot free from Stark’s grip. “You ahahahassholes!”

“You want us to make it ten?” Sam inquired. That shut Peter up real quick, though he continued to laugh helplessly.

“I’ve got an idea!” Rhodes said, dipping his hands into a puddle of paint next to Peter’s head. “Why don’t we spend these last couple minutes turning Spider-Man into a lovely finger painting? We shouldn’t let all this perfectly good paint go to waste.”

“Oh, yes! I love that!” Sam dabbed his fingertips into the closest pool of paint, granting Peter a few moments to breathe. “What kind of picture should we paint?”

“Whatever your heart desires.”

Once he was satisfied with his assembled palette, Rhodey started gently gliding his fingers across Peter’s face and ears. Despite his attempts to stave it off, Peter cracked into a smile and giggled softly, scrunching up his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. He’d never considered that they’d use the means of his own prank against him. Talk about rude.

“I think I’ll paint you into a clown,” Rhodes decided. “How does that sound?”

“Stohop!” Peter said, jerking away from Rhodes’ feathery touch. Rhodey grinned.

“If you’re not going to let me paint your face, then I’ll just go back to this.”

With that, Rhodes pounced on his underarms full-force, wrecking him with an entirely new level of tickling intensity. Peter sputtered in surprise before busting out laughing, his head reeling with the need to immediately make the torture stop, even though it had only just started up again two seconds ago.

“AHAHANOHOHAHA! P-pahahaint my fahahace! My fahahace!”

“Good,” Rhodes said triumphantly. He stopped tickling Peter’s armpits and re-wet his hands with fresh paint. Then he began tracing his index finger along Peter’s jawline, followed by his hairline, outlining his face in white paint. His delicate touch tickled Peter like a feather and made him giggle uncontrollably.

“I’m painting the ocean,” Sam announced, scooping handfuls of blue paint into both of his palms. Then he dumped it all on to Peter’s belly and started spreading it everywhere with his hands, causing Peter to cringe and laugh as Sam’s fingers slipped along his sensitive sides and ribcage.

“Hold still,” Rhodey demanded, painting little spots of red on top of his already rosy cheeks.

“Ihi’m tryhyhing!” Peter giggled helplessly. “It’s hahard!” He jumped and squealed when Sam’s fingers crept up to his underarms and started fluttering against the hollows. “Ahahaha! Hehehey!”

“I’m painting you whole torso to look like the ocean! There has to blue everywhere!” he explained. A mischievous sparkle twinkled in his eye. “Let’s see. We need more blue here.” He brought both hands down to the middle of Peter’s tummy and drilled all ten fingers deep into his flesh. Peter leapt and gasp and squirmed with laughter. “And some more here,” he continued, tweaking both of his sides with sharp, quick pinches again and again and again.

“Sahahaham!” Peter cried.

“And perhaps let’s add some…here.”

Two hands were suddenly squeezing Peter’s legs above his kneecaps with needling repetition. The sensation sent shocks up his spine and made him jolt and twist and shriek.

“AHAHACK! NOHO—S-STOHOHAHAHAHAAA!” He bucked and squirmed and laughed himself silly, but Sam kept squeezing. As his hands inched higher and higher up Peter’s legs, his reactions became more and more hysterical. He couldn’t believe how much it tickled. He couldn’t handle another second. But his violent struggling and hiccup-filled laughter only seemed to encourage Sam to squeeze faster and harder.

“His legs are ticklish too?” Tony chuckled. “What part of you isn’t ticklish, kid?”

“His legs are super ticklish,” Sam laughed. “Look how red his face is!”

“HEHEHEHELP!” Peter cackled, balling his hands into fists. Sam was certain he’d explode if he kept this up, so he moved back to the kid’s belly, adding waves and fish to his ocean as Peter giggled breathlessly. “Gah..hah…oho gohohosh…eheeheeheh…”

“What are you going to paint, Tones?” Rhodey asked, dabbing black paint around the kid’s eyes.

Tony drenched his hand in green paint. “I’ll paint him some shoes. Leprechaun shoes. You want some little green leprechaun shoes, kid?”

Peter was too busy giggling dazedly beneath Sam’s tummy tickles and Rhodey’s feathery touches. He’d almost forgotten about Stark’s hand around his foot. He was quickly reminded of the fact when he felt a finger glide up his arch.

“AHA!” Peter squeaked, flinching so much Rhodey smeared paint all over his forehead. “Mihihister Starhark!”

“You said you were going to stay still!” Rhodes chastised him. Tony continued to tickle his foot, adding the rest of his fingers to the equation, and giggles rained from Peter’s lips as his toes twitched in protest.

“I cahahahan’t!” he laughed. Peter’s Spider-Man suit was designed to allow his hands and feet to stick to walls through the fabric, which meant it wasn’t very thick. So it basically did nothing to protect any part of him from tickle attacks, particularly the bottoms of his feet. Stark switched to tickling both of his feet, scurrying his fingers up and down the sides and center of each foot. Peter tried kicking his legs and scrunching up his toes, but it did nothing the deter Tony’s blunt fingernails scouring every ticklish inch of his feet.

Although they were all tickling him relatively gently now, thirty fingers stroking and tweaking his ridiculously sensitive self for as long as they had been was too maddening for words. Peter needed this to end before he died either of laughter or embarrassment.

“Ohohokahay,” he wheezed, his face aching from so much smiling. “Ihi’m cheered uhuhup! Youhou dihihihid it! Now plehehease—plehease just stohohahahahaaa!” His words dissolved into nonsensical giggling when Sam’s fingers returned to his ribs, worming and wiggling between each individual bone.

Rhodey booped his nose with a spot of red paint then looked back at the others. “What do you say? Is our thirst for pranking vengeance quenched?”

“For now, I guess,” Sam said, wiping his hands on the last remaining bit of Spider-Man’s costume that wasn’t splattered with paint. He gave his side a parting squeeze before laying off.

Tony stood and walked to stand by Peter’s head. The kid’s neck and ears were almost the same color as his suit. His clown paint job looked more like a random palette of colors smeared all over his face by someone wearing a blindfold. The poor kid was a Jackson Pollock gone wrong—although that was kinda what they all were at that point. But the wide, exhausted smile on his face filled Stark’s heart with warmth. With a tap on his watch, the nano-tech clasps dissolved away.

“Ihi’m in pain,” Peter moaned, rolling on to his side and curling into a ball. The three Avengers standing over him chuckled.

“Next time, don’t dump paint on your teammates,” Sam retorted.

“I juhust…wanted to…cheeheer you up…” he giggled quietly. “Uhuhugh…”

“Oh, you did,” Rhodey reassured him. “I am one hundred percent cheered up.”

“Me too,” Tony concurred. “You wholeheartedly succeeded.”

“Now I know exactly what to do when me or you or anyone else is bummed out,” Sam said. “Just a little poke, and then…”

Sam reached down and jabbed Peter’s side with his index finger. Immediately, the kid squeaked out a laugh and hugged himself around the middle.

“See? Instant serotonin.”

“Stohohop!” Peter giggled. “Let me lihihive…”

“Are you okay, kid?” Tony asked with sudden earnest, offering him a hand. Peter hesitated before accepting it, feeling wired and tingly as he rose to his feet, his belly still bubbling with giggly butterflies.

“Yeah,” he finally answered, unable to wipe the dopey smile from his face. “I just…ugh. I dohon’t understand why you guys have to escalate things so quickly. Why couldn’t you just put dye in my shampoo or dump malic acid on my pizza like normal people? Why do you always end up doing…that to me?”

“What, tickling you?” Sam smiled crookedly and made a move for his tummy, but Peter flinched out of the way this time. “Because it’s fun to watch you squirm.”

“And no matter how many times we do it, you react just as wildly. With your squirming and screeching and cute little hiccup-laugh.”

Peter’s face went hot. “It’s not…cute,” he murmured.

“I have half a mind to tickle you until you admit it’s cute,” Tony chuckled. When Peter’s eyes went wide, Stark held up his hands. “Not right now. Don’t worry. I think you’ve had enough for today.”

Rhodes patted Peter on the shoulder. “Come on, though—seriously. Is your mood not the tiniest bit improved after all that smiling and laughing?”

As much as Peter hated to admit it, he did feel more peppy and alive now than he had pre-tickle attack. He was certainly more smiley and giggly—that he couldn’t even attempt to hide.

“I mean…maybe,” he ventured to say. When he realized everyone was grinning at him, he backtracked. “But, like, not enough to be worth going through that! You people are evil!”

“We sure are,” Sam said sinisterly. “And we won’t let you forget it.”

Peter swallowed and picked his mask up off the floor, which was smeared with paint like the rest of him. “We didn’t even finish the spidey sense test thing we came in here for.”

“Let’s save that for another day,” Stark said, ruffling Peter’s paint-spattered hair. “I think we all could use a shower.”

After all was said and done, Peter was glad he had managed to brighten everyone’s day, even if it wasn’t through the method he’d intended.

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sugarless-suki-writes · 3 years

Text

First Lines Meme

Tagged by @nikkxb -- sorry it's taken me so long to get to this, lmao

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!)

See if there are any patterns.

Choose your favorite opening lines.

Then tag 10 authors!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I just kinda went to my recents on my google docs, so this is gonna have a mix of stuff, some original stuff too. ye :3 but I'm starting with fics that I currently have posted online. All of them are the first paragraph of the update that's in progress

Favorites have bolded and italicized titles :3

1. Sobriety || KouKag

Kagome had three sessions of therapy so far and she wasn’t fully sure how to feel. She knew it was helping her, but she was left feeling so.... raw and open after every session that she felt like she was just back pedaling and it was hard to cope with. A part of her wanted to just stop altogether and go back to self medicating, but she knew that this was just part of the process. The first couple sessions were going to be hard because there was just so much to unpack, but her therapist was nice and calm and patient with her. She really had to thank Kouga again when she saw him later today.

2. 100 Arms, 100 Years || KouKag

This was the fifth day that an offering had been left in front of Kagome’s door for her. The fifth time she would receive the carcass of a large animal that she wouldn’t accept. The fifth time that Inuyasha found himself in front of her and Kikyō’s shared hut and bringing the carcass to the village for her. His fifth time taking the credit for a hunt he had no part in. He had to admit, this was quickly grating on his nerves. He hated the attention that he was getting from the villagers now. They praised him for shit that he didn’t do. That, and he didn’t want to be praised for anything. It was bad enough that he practically had the Sacred Jewel within his grasp and wasn’t able to use it to become a full-fledged youkai, but now he was being celebrated as a hero by some mere humans? Keh... they’re lucky I don’t tell them what this is all actually about. I bet they wouldn’t be so happy then. He sniffed and scratched at his nose. He talked a big game, but Inuyasha knew deep down that he would never do anything to hurt them. If he did that, that would in turn hurt Kikyō and he couldn’t do that to her.

3. Big God || KouKag

Kagome let out a frustrated huff as she shoved her phone into her pocket. She then plopped down onto the couch, tucking her legs up underneath her and curling into Kouga’s side. “That’s the fourth test we’ve ran, and we just... can’t figure out what the hell that stuff is... It’s so frustrating!” she grumbled.

4. You are the Moon || KouKag

Kagome took care of dinner that night, going out to pick up a few things she would need before returning home and cooking. Her mother tried to talk her out of it, but Kagome insisted, wanting to give her mother a break for the night and do something nice for the family. She missed them, and she wanted to make up for being gone for so long.

5. The Demon of Nabewari Yama || KouKag

Kagome let out a small huff as she looked up at the mountain she was heading towards. She had been traveling for several days, bordering a week now, looking for somewhere to settle. However, all the villages she had come across already had a miko or monk residing there, and if they didn’t, they didn’t want one. To be fair, there weren’t many villages she had come across between her hometown and here, and sure, maybe she should go further out after completing her training, but it was still just a little frustrating.

6. Seasons of Love || ZelGan

Zelda looked herself over in the mirror, and the corners of her lips pulled down into a small frown. Her hair was pulled up into an extravagant updo, several locks braided and pulled into the bun that rested on the back of her head. There were some flowers pinned in as well, all of them white in color. She would have preferred something with a pop of color, so they would stand out against her hair; but she figured that, in the end, everything had to match her dress.

7. Gerudotown || ZelGan -- Title may change for this, idk lmao

Ganondorf let out a grunt as he dismounted from his horse. The beast was large with a jet-black coat and a matching mane. He gave the steed a pat on his neck before handing the reins to a stable boy, holding back a chuckle from the look on the boy’s face. He was certain the child had never seen a beast so big, nor a Gerudo, based on how he was looking up at Ganondorf with wide, disbelieving eyes.

8. Shit, Let's be Pirates || DaveJade

Jade ran down the dirt path leading to a hidden beach. She had just gotten out of class and was eager to go down to the coves. She wanted to find some cool shells and snap a couple pictures for her biology class. She always went above and beyond in that class, but she just had a passion for marine life.

9. Changing Fate || ZelGan

“You can’t possibly be serious about this, father!” Zelda snapped indignantly. Her hands were balled into fists at her sides and her face was contorted in rage. King Rimoll let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. They had been at this “conversation” for what felt like hours. He didn’t expect it to go this badly. Of course, he didn’t expect it to go well in the first place, but this was beyond what he anticipated.

10. Moon Bonds || KouKag

All Hallow’s Eve. A powerful night for witches and magick users alike. A night that better helped connect them to the spirits of the earth and those who had been lost. It was a night that Kagome looked forward to every year. The surge of magick that tingled under her skin and filled her very being... by the goddess it was an amazing feeling. And this year would be even more delightful and powerful.

11. Princess and the Pirate || Amuto

Growing up, Amu had been told many stories about pirates, everyone on her small island had. But Amu felt as if she had heard more than most. Her mother would tell her tales before bed about the pirates on a ship called the Emerald Line. Despite the name of the ship, its hull and sails were completely black. The only speck of color was the pirate flag it flew, which was emerald green and depicted a cat head with crossbones beneath. It was also known to be the fastest ship to sail the seas.

12. The Black Card || KouKag

Kagome paced around her room in her tiny apartment, struggling with picking out an outfit. It was her first day off in a while and she wanted to look cute, seeing as she wouldn’t be restricted by her, somewhat lenient (semi-strict?), dress code at the bookstore. However, she also wanted to be comfortable, so she was at a bit of an impasse. It wasn’t really as big a deal as she was making it out to be, but she was exhausted and she hoped that dressing nice would throw Sango off her trail. With a huff, she finally settled on a nice sundress she had stuffed in the back of her closet, one she rarely wore and almost forgot she had. It was light blue in color with a floral print.

13. Harvest Moon || KouKag

Kagome stretched as she woke up that morning. She opened her eyes and saw the torn-up ceiling and frowned to herself ever so slightly. She had moved into the country several days ago and had only recently started working on repairs that her home needed. It was a pretty large house, but the rent was extremely cheap. The only downside was she had to pay for the repairs, but in all honesty… she wasn’t too bothered by it. Apparently the house had been abandoned for years. No one was really sure how long... but Kagome could take a guess that it had been at least a decade with how worn down and dirty things were.

14. Memories || Original Fic - No Pairing

Lotus looked around at the scene before her. It would be an easy job, simple. She could do it in her sleep no problem. She scoffed and looked at the man beside her. “Really? You need me for this?” she asked. He turned to look at her, a scowl on his face.

15. Any Way the Wind Blows || ZelGan

Zelda woke up to the sun on her face. She grumbled and grunted, rolling over onto her side on her small mat. She opened her eyes and looked out ahead of her, at the grass and flowers swaying in the breeze. Her stomach gurgled and she placed a hand on it, a grimace on her lips. Food...

16. Found || KouKag

When Kouga had heard that there was a disturbance along one of their borders, he had been prepared for anything. He pulled together a team quickly, not taking all the strongest warriors, making sure to leave some behind to protect his pack. They ran off, ready to fight. Ready for anything. Anything except this.

17. Interlude IV (Showtime) || KouKag

O Signore, per amor del tuo nome, perdonami la mia iniquità... Perciocche ellà e grande Kagome sat there in the street, blood seeping through her clothes and soaking her knees. Tears continued to stream down her cheeks in a never ending flow. Her breath kept catching in the back of her throat as she tried to force down her sobs. Her hands were curled up into fists, pressed against the pavement, soaked in blood and in pain from being clenched so tightly and pressed so firm against the rough asphalt. Regret, despair, and guilt crushed her heart. They squeezed tight, holding onto her and keeping her trapped in the moment. A moment she’d rather drink away and forget, only for her guilty conscious to bring it back in her dreams at night, keeping her away from the blissfulness of sleep.

18. Bubblegum & Nicotine || Original Fic -- Astrid/Loki

Astrid opened the door to the apartment and latched her keys onto her belt loop. She then bent over to pick up the bags of groceries she had set on the ground to unlock the front door. Once she had crossed the threshold into the house, she raised up her right leg and kicked the door closed behind her. With a bit of a grunt, she hoisted the bags up a tad higher and made her way to the kitchen. She set them down on the counter with a thud and took a moment to catch her breath. She may be in good shape, but carrying several pounds of groceries up three flights of stairs because the elevator was out? That would wind anyone.

19. We Are Complicated || Bubbline

Bonnibel Kaugummi entered the school and was quick to drop her things off in her locker so she could head straight to the Student Council room. She grabbed a couple of her books out of the locker and shoved them into her messenger bag. The tan colored bag complimented her uniform, which consisted of a grey sweater, a red ribbon tied into a neat bow, which was neatly tucked underneath the collar of her white button up shirt underneath her sweater, and a red plaid skirt. The red accents to her uniform identified her as a Junior, and they complimented her red-orange hair and rosy complexion.

20. The End of All Things || KouKag

Kagome let out a soft sigh as she curled up in her spot on the bench, bringing her legs up to her chest. She was sitting out on the small deck that overlooked the garden in her backyard and watching the rain. It was fairly cool out thanks to the constant drizzle that had begun early that morning. The sound of it pattering against the ground and roof that extended over the deck filled her with a sense of calm, a calm that she desperately needed right about now. Working as a nurse wore her out. She loved her job, of course, but gods if it didn’t have its trials and tribulations. She had been working almost every day for a solid two weeks now, covering shifts for people on top of her own. Thankfully she had a couple of her shifts taken from her after being at the hospital for a full 24 hours at one point in time. Today just so happened to be her natural day off, and she felt pretty great about it.

#ask meme #koukag #kogkag #bubbline #zelgan #amuto #inuyasha #adventure time #legend of zelda #shugo chara #original content

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characteroulette · 3 years

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GAME KIDS TIME for Dante Going Fuckin Berserk for the first time (cuz you sent it to me years ago and it's still sitting in my inbox lmao)

ohhhh nice! hahaha. I actually rewrote the whole beginning of that one night because I had the thought of "no, this needs more build up." because it used to just start with the kids in the Game, hearing the singing and then Dante popped.

(I also need to rewrite it again now that the kids are more Aware of Dante's trauma with Hell hahaha)

(here is a read more because I have more to say than I thought I would)

Then Dante's fire sparked up, a hotter and bigger flame. [...] They blasted Frank, Abraham, and Vektor straight out of the game and they hit Petel as he dove into the cover. The burns and the heat around him didn't cease, the waves rocketing out past the visible horizon in every direction.

I did my best to convey Inferno here and I still like it hahaha. getting the same 'fire fire fire' thing that'd probably be going through Dante's head is an interesting challenge, since we're in Petel's pov, but it worked out pretty okay?

There, in the middle of a scorched circle on the ground, was Dante, crumpled on the floor in a familiar way. Though, the only thing recognisable as Dante was the soft, wavy blond hair and the knowledge that Dante had been at the centre and cause of this. Dante's clothes had been torn and were now grey and all available skin Petel could see had been scorched charcoal black.

hey I really like writing character descriptions whoop. also, fun fact! Dante's Berserk aftermath is based off an Elsen (from the game OFF)! that's why he head asplode, actually.

"Why can't he utilise this power into a more constructive gain for us?" Vektor lamented loudly. Knowing Vektor, he was probably also waving his hands about and nearly knocking himself over from the movements. "Every time he shows any kind of prowess in his abilities, it's to our detriment. Every time! He's a jeopardy to the mission."

"Your mission." Abraham's voice came across as cool, but as annoyed as Petel was growing. "He made a mistake, it happens."

I just really still like this exchange, honestly. Abraham being the one to throw that back in Vektor's face was supposed to show his growth, but honestly Abraham is just really friendly and patient towards Dante ;w;

Finally, Dante said, "Sorry."

Petel's response was immediate. "It's okay."

"I-I got scared. And then. I couldn't stop it."

Petel gave it a moment of thought. Back to when all he could comprehend was teeth and claws and making sure every living thing in his vicinity was torn to shreds. He shrugged in the end. "It happens."

even now, EVEN NOW, Dante's still not being truthful about things. he just lies about the root cause of his Berserk because, to him, it's all Fear and Trauma wrapped up in a neat little package (named Orpheus and Hell, but no one would know that since they haven't seen Orpheus yet) and so he just tries to use his Excuse here in a desperate attempt to keep the others out of the loop still. Dante man what the fuck are you doing

One of the Gargoyles dove suddenly, aiming for Dante. Petel managed to claw its wing enough to redirect it, but it still nicked Dante's exposed arm. Dante's mouth opened, a half-formed scream not quite making it out, before his head exploded in a spray of black liquid and a column of black smoke spilled out of his neck. Petel and the two Gargoyles hesitated. For once, Petel sincerely hoped it was just that Dante had been killed, had been logged out of the game. "Uh. Paige?"

"What the hell is going on?" Her voice came over with a stronger terrified tone than she probably meant. "Dante's stats just rocketed up by a 400-times multiplier and he's got 5% health left and the computer's refusing to tell me why it's going mad like this."

The creature formerly Dante straightened itself up, now taller and with broader shoulders. The claws had grown and whiffs of black smoke drifted off their sharp tips with every slight movement, while Dante's legs had curled backwards and the clawed feet had become stumps, nearly hoof-like. A constant stream of black smoke and spurting blood oozed from the stump of Dante's neck. Petel had nothing better to say than a succinct, "Dante's head came off."

At this, the rest of the crew spoke in unison with Paige. "What?"

head asplode! god I love this scene a lot hahaha. the Gargoyles hesitating, like Petel, is meant to be significant! but Petel can't really pay attention to that right now since their friend's head just exploded. I struggled, also, for a long time on how much exactly to jack up Dante's stats and then went "fuck it, 400x is broken" and settled on that hahaha

Petel desperately wished he could explain it better, but his words were caught in the back of his throat and he knew that if he tried to force them out, all that he'd manage would be whimpering and whines. Dante grabbed the remaining Gargoyle as it tried to escape and tore its wings off, then tossed it away as it dissolved into code. Then the thing turned towards Petel.

Petel had no other instinct. His tail tucked, ears flattened against his head, and he ran.

[...]

Of course, Dante was right there behind him. It didn't seem like Dante could fit in the checkpoint or even get inside, but it didn't stop for a second. It slashed at the checkpoint with those sharp claws, making the structure shake and fizzle and actually damaging the thing. After a few slashes, Dante then dragged its claws along the ground, tossing up some sludge-like lava that splattered against the openings of the checkpoint but was kept out by some invisible force. The walls continued to shake and Petel whimpered quietly. "Paige. Paige, please."

Petel showing real fear!! also very good. also very significant. Dante's coding is so fucked up that it actually breaks some of Petel's coding, too. that Fear is just so palpable that it leaks out and infects those around it. (and also Dante's Warping is just That Bad hahaha, this is why he does his best to be careful all the time)

Frank frowned, slowly tilting his head to the side. "It'd be faster to force the log out, right?"

"What exactly is this risk factor?"

Abraham seemed hesitant to ask and Paige hesitated on answering. That was enough for Petel to figure out the rest. And it wasn't good. "He'd come out without a head. Wouldn't he?"

Paige cringed. Frank and Abraham's jaws dropped open. And Vektor, in fabulous Vektor fashion, rolled his eyes. "There's only a fifteen-point-eight percent chance that the system will mistake Dante's current form for his form on this plane of existence. The odds are in our favour."

"No."

Petel narrowed his eyes at Vektor and Vektor wilted under his glare. Paige twiddled with her fingers. Frank came out of his shock first, giving a strangled cry of outrage. "You'd risk Dante coming back headless and dead just to get him out a little quicker?"

Vektor gulped, voice unsteady. "Technically, he wouldn't be dead. The system would just mistake his current form for your reality." Vektor looked around at them expectantly, but Petel wouldn't budge. Not on this one. [...] Vektor puffed up again, getting huffy. "Look, if we did lose Inferno, why would it matter that much? He's of no great contribution to our mission, anyway."

"Your mission!" Petel growled and surged forward to grab the front of Vektor's suit coat. "Dante. Is not. Useless."

ahh, Vektor. (there's that line again whoooo) I have to rewrite all of this but I always want to show the disconnect between how Vektor treats Dante, because of his built-in muscle memory. Vektor doesn't even understand it himself, but he tends to treat Dante worse than the others just because it's what feels right in his programming.

the rest of this chapter is a lot of me getting the rest of the kids out so Paige and Petel can discuss exactly how Dante's Berserk works hahaha. man, I need to rewrite this...

Dante would get out. Things would be all right. They'd all find this very funny in a week or so. 'Hey, remember that time you went berserk and got trapped in the game for several hours? Wasn't that just a hoot?' 'Not as much as that time you ripped us all to shreds when you went berserk! Ah, how time flies.' They were good enough friends by this point, right?

Petel please what the fuck is this XD

anyway, yeah! those are my thoughts on this chapter as it is in beta form hahaha. the ending is basically Petel reaching a conclusion about his feelings towards Dante and that's why he just thinks of them as dating in the next one (which is also something I need to rework, aaaaaaa) but also showing off the trio as friends!! even though this thing is a couple years old by this point, I still like it a lot!

(sorry to everyone else hahaha if you're really curious about the whole chapter, here's the google doc of it. please don't make a mess of it ;; )

#Game Kids need their own tag #Dante #Berserk: Inferno #Petel #long post #Momo writes stuff #askbox meme #Momo replies to things #I had a lot more to say than I thought I would #boy howdy looking back on my old writing is. an experience.#I'm nearly finished with the chapter that comes before this too #fun times in the Game Kid world!#americanjack

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lavishedinjimin · 6 years

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brother’s best friend - jjk (M)

↳ Pairing: jungkook x reader

↳ genre: SMUT

↳ Word count: 5.3k

↳ Warnings: intense smut, overstimulation, choking, spanking, dirty talk, dom!jungkook, oral sex (receiving), bbf!jungkook, and all unholy things that would put me to hell

— synopsis: In which Y/n owns a smut blog dedicated to her crush and brother’s best friend, jungkook. it was all fun and games until he finds out about it and acts it out with you.

a/n: since tumblr links aren’t working, I suggest you to go to my blog description and check out my masterlist!

“Y/n! Come here quickly!” You heard your mom shout from the living room, quickly closing your laptop and ran downstairs. You tried not to lose your balance as you simultaneously fixed your hair up in a messy bun as you took quick steps down. “Y/n, I swear … calm down, or else you’re gonna fall.” You heard your brother Taehyung, said with complete worry evident in his voice.

Your mom was already attired in a business casual uniform with her hair up in a neat ponytail. She swung her bag over her shoulder and took the car keys from the empty jar that was set in the middle of the dining table. “I’m about to go now,” she started, grabbing ahold of her suitcase, “you two better not fight and always be good to each other okay?"

You can feel that Taehyung rolled his eyes, yet it doesn’t surprise you if he really did. "You,” your mom tended to your brother, “don’t do anything stupid in this house. Don’t hold any parties whatsoever, don’t invite people over, and especially don’t trash this whole place down.” Taehyung smiled, promising an ‘okay’ to her. You scoffed.

“And you, Y/n, make sure that your brother doesn’t do anything stupid."

"Mom~” Taehyung whined, “Mom we’re not eleven anymore."

"I know that, but you sometimes act like one."

Saying goodbye to your mom was kinda sad, as she was about to go in a one week business trip to Bangkok. Part of you was glad that you’d finally have some sort of freedom, but part of you will always miss her. When her uber drove off, you proceeded to go back upstairs to your room to finish what you were previously doing.

As you were taking a hot and steamy shower, you can’t help but fantasize about him again. You know that musing about your brother’s best friend remains messed up, but the way how he looks at you and the way that he presents himself makes you head over heels for him.

Jeon Jungkook, 21, and a natural flirt believe it or not.

Some may call it revolting, but you run a blog dedicated to all of your thirsty thoughts about him; not saying his name, of course. You post your deepest and darkest fantasies about him, and no one knows that it’s about your brother’s best friend.

You often saw him shirtless, exposing his hot abs and muscular body to your own eyes. Your imagination drifted to the time where Taehyung held a little pool party between his friends. But when your mother found out that you weren’t invited, she persuaded Taehyung to invite his own little sister too. You didn’t really like the idea of swimming with a bunch of dudes and no ladies, but when you overheard that Jungkook was also coming, your judgment changed completely.

“Hey, Y/n, lookin’ good.” One of his friends, Seokjin, wooed when you first stepped out of the house with a one-piece bikini. Taehyung rolled his eyes and smacked him on his arm, “Ouch! Okay, okay, sorry.”

You couldn’t help but sneak a few glances to Jungkook. He was shirtless, only wearing his swimming trunks as he laid on one of the long chairs by the pool. He had his head tilted back as the sun kissed his skin, providing a stunning glow on his skin. You bit your lip, shaking your head. Now’s not the time.

You masturbated and used your trusty vibrator to the thought of him. And it would be an utter hell if Taehyung ever finds out.

You were knocked out of your dark thoughts when you heard rapid knocks to the door, "Y/n! Are you here?” Taehyung’s voice asked. “Yeah, why?” You turned out the water for a second to hear what he has to say.

“Can we borrow your laptop? It’s for a project!"

You groaned, tilting your head back, "No! Use your own!"

"We’re already using mine. We need two."

You rolled your eyes, already annoyed. "Whatever, fine."

"Yay, thanks.” You can hear him already stepping away from the door until another question pops up inside your mind, “Wait! Who are you with? Who’s gonna use mine?"

"Jeon Jungkook!"

Your eyes went completely wide, mouth open in hysteria. Your brain couldn’t seem to function, and no other words were spilling out of your mouth. You wanted to scream, to bring back every word you said and to just run out of the shower to grab your laptop away from him – but you know you were too late.

Jungkook’s point of view:

"So what did she say?” I asked as I saw Taehyung returning back from upstairs. He grinned, revealing Y/n’s laptop from his back where he was previously hiding it. Seeing all of the cute stickers that surfaced the most part of her laptop made me smirk. “Here,” he gave the laptop to me as I set it up on top of the marble island.

“Does it have a password?"

"Yeah, it’s ’mypassword’. All lowercase, no space.”

A chuckle emitted from my lips as I looked at Taehyung, who sat across from me, already indulged in his own laptop. “How do you know that?"

"I just notice her typing it in sometimes."

My fingers typed the password the way how Taehyung said, and it unlocks. The first thing that appeared on the screen made my eyebrows furrow in confusion.

Examining the whole page, I noticed that it was run by her. It was her account, and it was filled with all kinds of dirty fantasies. I bit my lip scrolling down to search for more. I knew that it was so wrong to invade someone’s privacy like this and just pretend that I didn’t see anything – but I couldn’t believe that someone like her thinks about all these nasty thoughts.

[ Imagine your dom fucking you against the wall, lifting one of your legs up as he chokes you with his other hand ]

[ Your dom overstimulating you to the point where your legs shake, begging that you can’t take it any further but it just fuels him to fuck you harder ]

[ ughhhh just the thought of someone wrapping their hand around your throat, whispering praises in your ear for how good you’ve been for them ]

[ fuck, when a guy has that cocky smirk turns me on so much ]

[ Your dom spanking you to the point where your ass turns red as he punishes you for being bad ]

I gulped, feeling a little bit turned on. I always saw Y/n as an innocent and a serene girl, but fuck was I wrong. My eyes go to an anonymous question that was sent to her, asking;

[ Q: ‘Do you have a dom??’ ]

[ - no, just someone who inspires me lmao ]

[ Q: ‘who is it then???’ ]

[ - i can’t say the name obviously, woman. ]

[ Q: Initials? ]

[ - jjk ;) ]

I almost choked on my own saliva after I saw the letters. I didn’t want to assume too fast, but I was certain that I’m the only person that she knows that has those initials. I smirk at the thought of Y/n having these dirty thoughts about me when she looks like an actual angel – so pure.

I look up at Taehyung, who was apparently already staring at me with a confused look. “You good there?” he asked, nodding his head in my direction. I smirk furthermore, “Yeah.”

“Okay. Now go to google docs.”

You were panicking like shit, trying to put your clothes on properly. You were struggling to hike up your leggings, resulting in hopping on one foot as you almost lost your balance. You ran downstairs as fast as you could, praying that Jungkook has not opened your laptop yet.

But as soon you were at the end of the staircase, you turned to your left and saw the two boys sitting at the marble islands, looking at your drained state.

Your breathing was heavy, and you looked like you had just run a marathon. “What’s up with you, Y/n?” Taehyung asked, completely annoyed by your presence.

You meet Jungkook’s eyes across the room who was staring at you intensely with a smirk. You gulped, seeing how he eyed you up and down. You suddenly felt small. “I-I need my laptop back.”

“What? Why? We’re using it already.” Taehyung groaned.

“Please, can I have it back? I-I forgot that I had work to do as well.”

Taehyung looked at Jungkook, “What do you say?”

“It’s okay,” he replied but never keeping his eyes away from you, “you can have it back.” He closed the cover, waiting for you to take your laptop back. You held your breath as you took the courage to walk over to them and retrieve your laptop from him. You seized a quick glance at Jungkook, and you noticed how he smirked at gave you a quick wink. Your eyes widen, quickly turning around as you were clutching your laptop tightly to your chest.

You were fucked.

Next day:

You were almost considering about deleting your account just because of how humiliated you’ve become.

Taehyung said that Jungkook was going to come back again just to finish their project. Meaning, another day of hiding all day inside the comfort of your room. Your laptop – that goddamn thing – was on the other side of your room, charging as you were staring blankly at the white ceiling above you. Your hair was all messy and tangled from all of the tuggings you have been doing for the past hour.

‘He must’ve seen everything’, you thought to yourself as you closed your eyes. You reminisced about your recent posts that he might have seen and you immediately remembered the questions about having a ‘dom’. “Fuck!” you yelled, rubbing your face with your hands. You continuously kicked the sheets below you in rage, even throwing a pillow aimed to your laptop. “Why did I even think about posting his initials?” you whined, trapping your face with a pillow and let out a muffled groan.

You stayed like that for a couple of minutes until you calmed yourself down. You stood up from the comfort of your bed and looked at yourself in the mirror. Letting out a chuckle, you shook your head. “You fucking idiot,” you told yourself. You grabbed a comb and fixed your hair, taking your time to relax.

Just the thought of your crush finding out that you run a filthy blog just for him made you insane. You probably couldn’t even look at his eyes anymore, and you just pray to God that he doesn’t tell Taehyung about this. Because if he does, you were seriously deliberating about moving out of the house, blocking every connection from him and just disappear.

But did you regret doing the blog, though? Not really. Jungkook was seriously a hot guy. The way how he walks like he’s better than any other model there is, how the veins on his forearms are so prominent and visible, or how luscious his thighs are - makes you drool. He can literally be a cute bunny and turn into a hot daddy afterward. His fucking duality.

You found yourself daydreaming about him again and you mentally slapped yourself. You groaned at yourself and continued your little grooming session.

It was after a while until Taehyung literally texted your phone saying that Jungkook has just arrived; as if you needed the alarm. You replied with a simple “k” and decided to open your laptop. You logged in into your account and uploaded a post.

[ Okay, update. My crush knows that this blog is about him 💀]

After a moment, someone replied.

[ - Is this the jjk guy? ]

[ Yup. ]

[ - oh. Im the anon who asked the initals. woops #sorrynotsorry ]

[ you’re gonna pay for this, anon. I swear eye– ]

[ - girl, maybe I just made you a favor ]

“What?” you furrowed your eyebrows, about to type a reply before a knock the door refrained you from your actions. You looked up, waiting for the person on the other side to say anything. Nothing. Tilting your head to the side in confusion, you stood up from your desk and walked over to the door, about to open it but another set of knocks came.

With a huff, you finally opened the door. “What do you wa—”

The person you were least expecting was on the other side, almost making you lose your balance.

“J-Jungkook?”

He smirked smugly, combing his hair back, making his arms flex involuntarily. He stepped forward, making you take a shy step back as he leaned himself against the doorframe. “Y/n,” he smiles, crossing his arms in front of him. Your breathing was heavy and you tried your hardest to look away, but something in his eyes prevents you from doing it. He caught you within him, and Jungkook has something planned.

“W-where’s Tae?” You asked quietly, not trusting your voice. Jungkook laughs silently as he steps forward, coming inside of your room. He looks at your bed then turns to you again, “Can I sit here?”

“Oh, um, of course.” You forced a little smile. He smiles back at you as he sits down at the edge of your bed as you try not to literally drool. He wore black skinny jeans and with a white shirt tucked in. Even when he wore the simplest clothing he’ll still look good in them. You stood there awkwardly, playing with your nimble fingers until he signaled you to come closer. Your eyes widen for a second and you gulp. You obeyed him and you were now standing between his knees. He looks up at you and smiled. “Tae has gone to the mall to get a few things for our project.”

“And you didn’t go with him?” You asked. He chuckles, carefully holding your left hand and caressing it. Your breath hitched, biting your lip unconsciously.

“No, I told him I’d stay here. And besides,” Jungkook suddenly tugs on your arm, making you jolt forward and lay on his lap, “we have a lot to talk about.” You couldn’t breathe, everything seems to happen so fast. You heard him chuckle, caressing your backside. He holds your hips in place so that you couldn’t move. His stern grip on your sides makes you want to let out a moan, but you tried your hardest to prevent that.

“Jungkook…I –”

“Tell me, y/n. Was your blog dedicated to me?” he asked as he raised one brow up. You looked down in humiliation. You were about to say some lame excuse until he firmly gripped your chin, making you look deep into his brown irises. You tried to look away but his hold didn’t let you. He chuckled, “One word, baby. We’re you thinking about me when you post in that filthy little blog of yours?”

You sighed, the pet name making you feel some time of way, “Yes.”

Your answer resulted in him smirking, shaking his head. “You’re such a naughty little girl, aren’t you? Thinking about your brother’s best friend to fuck you. Is that what you want?”

The bluntness in his voice made you gasp lightly, not believing what you just heard. “Jungkook, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“A simple sorry isn’t gonna fix this, Y/n. Now, lay across my lap.”

You couldn’t believe what was happening, your every fantasy was about to come to life, and to be honest, you weren’t ready. You obeyed his instruction and you had your stomach pressed against his thighs, your knees touching the floor. He grabbed both of your wrists and encaptured them in one of his hands, pressing it against your back. You took a deep breath, knowing what was about to come. “Look at you,” he says, “laid across my lap like this. Do you know why you’re in this position, babygirl?” You whined at the name that he used, closing your eyes. “Answer me.” He grips your wrists tighter, making you wince. “Y-yes.”

“And why’s that?”

“B-because…” he started to remove your leggings down slowly, teasing you. “Because? Hmm?”

“Because I’ve been bad.”

He hums in approval, removing the material from your ass completely. Your white laced underwear exposed to him makes him growl, his member starting to grow. He runs a hand over your soft skin gently, caressing it carefully then squeezing it right after. You yelped in surprise. “Should I spank you for that, baby? Should I spank this pretty ass of yours until it’s red?”

You moaned, nodding your head as he chuckles. “Count for me.”

His right hand meets your right cheek harshly, leaving a filthy sound from the collision. You jolted forward, not expecting that he’d go hard immediately. “One.”

“You dirty little slut,” he hits you again, much harder than before as you mumble a ‘two’, “You like to be spanked, don’t you?” he hits you again, this time moaning out loud. “Three.” The lewd noises that the impact makes with the pleasurable pain already made you wet. His hold on your wrists tightens as he smacks you again. “Fucking answer.” He growls, and you obey him. “Y-yes. I do like it.”

He hits you for the fifth, sixth, seventh, and until it climbs up to the twentieth and you were knocked out. “Jungkook, p-please stop.” You had tears coming out from the corners of your eyes, both from the pain and the pleasure that every hit brings. He scoffs as he clashes his big hand on your left cheek for the last time. “T-twenty one,” you sniff. He removes your leggings off of your legs entirely as he lifts you up. He places you back on his lap in a straddling position. He wipes your tears off of your cheeks with his thumb gently, looking at your flushed face tenderly.

“So good for me, angel.” He whispers.

He himself looks flushed, his cheeks were red and so were yours. Spanking was one of his kinks as well, and we just loves how your body reacts to him. He lifts his hand up to your hair and removes your ponytail, leaving your gorgeous hair to fall down and frame your face. He smiles up at you and caresses your cheeks, pressing your face into his palm.

He looks at your lips for a second and locks his eyes back to yours, “Can I kiss you, Y/n?”

You nodded, forcing a small smile. Within a flash, he pressed his lips into yours. Your mouths fit perfectly, dancing together with a hot rhythm. He controls the kiss, pulling you closer to him. He swipes his tongue on your bottom lip, asking for entrance as you submitted to him, opening your mouth slightly so that his tongue can slip in. You moaned in the kiss as your tongues fought for dominance which he easily won.

His right hand slid down your stomach until it reached the hem of your shirt, tugging it playfully. His hand was so close to where you badly needed him, but you were too shy to ask. You whined as you teasingly wiggled your ass. He groaned at your movements, his dick already painfully hard against his jeans. He moves his hand further down until he ghosts it above your underwear. “Can I touch you here babygirl?”

“Yes, p-please.” You closed your eyes as you felt his hand cup your heat, you can feel your wetness soaking through the fabric. “Shit, Y/n. You’re so wet.” He presses his long fingers against the thin cloth firmly, making you moan. You can feel his member twitch beneath you. “Did your punishment made you this wet, huh? You’re so goddamn naughty, baby.” He growls as he pushes your underwear to the side as he collects your juices with two fingers, sliding them up and down teasingly. You moan out his name, the feeling of his fingers were already too much for you. He slid his digits up and down, soaking them until he brings his hand in front of your mouth. “Taste yourself, baby.”

You brought your face closer as you wrapped your mouth around his fingers, sucking them clean. Your own taste wasn’t unfamiliar, as you have done that many times before. He bit his lip as he groaned, loving the feeling of your mouth sucking on his digits as you would on his cock. He bought his hand back down and abruptly slid two fingers inside your pussy, making you gasp loudly. You rolled your eyes back and your mouth formed an ‘o’. “F-fuck, Jungkook.”

He slowly thrusts his digits in and out, producing lewd and wet noises. “A-ahh, p-please. Faster.” You begged, making him smirk. “Hmm, faster? Want it faster?”

You nod vigorously as he complies, fucking your hole faster and harder. The lustful sounds that it made plus seeing how his arms flex makes you moan out loud. You rest your forehead on his right shoulder, your body giving up on you. He chuckles, fucking you even faster. “You like that, baby?”

“Yes.” You moaned, closing your eyes tightly as you felt a familiar knot on your stomach. He can feel you clenching around his fingers, signaling your high.

“You look so fucking hot, Y/n. You gonna come for me baby? Come on, spill your cum all over my fingers.” He suddenly presses his thumb on your clit, making you jump from the addition of pleasure. He rubs your clit roughly, making you whine against his tshirt. “I-I’m gonna…”

You couldn’t finish your sentence as you clenched your walls around his fingers tightly, your cum coating his digits. “Fuuuuck”, you dragged out, legs shaking. You haven’t come this hard before, and the feeling was all new for you. It was addicting. “Shit,” he chuckles, removing his fingers and tasting your cum. He made you look at him as he wraps his mouth around his own fingers, keeping his eye contact on yours. “Taste better than I imagined it, love.”

He places his hands underneath your arms as he lifts you up, and placed you down on the soft mattress of your bed. He hovers above you, removing his shirt and exposing his abs that you’ve seen countless of times. You whined, crossing your legs together at the sight. He chuckles, moving a hand in between your thighs and parting them away from each other. “I’m gonna clean you up, babygirl.”

He moves himself down, removes your underwear as he positions his head in between your thighs. He licks a bold stripe from your entrance up to your clit, making you moan out loud. You were still so sensitive from the orgasm you had earlier, and your legs were shaking from the pleasure. He held your hips down with his hands as he licks you clean. “You taste so fucking sweet baby.” He groans, diving in into your wetness and collecting your juices. You tugged on his hair, making him moan against your pussy. The vibration made your insides turn from the immense pleasure. He starts wrapping his lips around your little bundle of nerves, sucking on it as he flicks his tongue around it at the same time. His actions made you tug on his hair harder and scream out loud.

Little did you know you were cumming for a second time, legs frantically shaking as you spilled on his mouth. He was quick to catch everything with his mouth, not wanting to waste even a little drop of your cum.

He brings his mouth upwards to yours, making you taste yourself on him for a second time. “Jungkook…” you whined, wanting more.

He removes your shirt, exposing your bare chest for him that results to a guttural moan coming from him. He kneads your breasts, making you whimper, the little buds hardening. He kneels in front of you, undoing the buttons of his jeans and pulling the zip down. Being impatient, you reached out to remove his jeans but his hands were faster and he refrained you from doing your plan. “Nuh-uh, be patient,” he smirks. He pulls his jeans down with his boxers, revealing his manhood.

You whined, seeing how hard he has become because of you made you bit you lip. He strokes his cock a couple of times, his precum helping him in sliding his hand much smoother. You loved watching him like this in front of you, how his abs and biceps flex in front of you, his forehead sweaty and how he groans your name out lout. You couldn’t even believe that this was actually happening in front of you.

He positions himself at your entrance, supporting his weight with his forearms. “W-wait, Jungkook!” Your eyes widen from the sudden realization, placing your hands on his sweaty chest. He stops his tracks, furrowing his brows. “Yes, baby?”

“Protection.” You smirk at him as you reached towards your bedside drawer and grabbing a condom from the box you hid by covering it with colored paper, so no one could suspect a thing. Jungkook chuckles as you hand him the rubber, sliding it down his shaft. “You’re so fucking cute, you know that?”

He places the tip at your entrance, sliding just the tip until you’ve gotten used to his size. You breathed heavily, clawing his back. “Go on.” You whispered and he slid his cock inside of you. The both of you moaned, closing your eyes and getting used to the feeling. You were so tight around him, your walls clenching and it took him lots of self-control to not pound into you just like that.

“Jungkook – ah shit, you’re so big.”

He groans, followed by a chuckle, “Yeah?”

“Yes, so big.”

After a moment, you motioned for him to move. You were so wet already that it was easy for him to ease himself in and out of you. He pulled out until the very tip was at your entrance, then abruptly pounds into you unexpectedly. He did this a few times, making you scream out in pleasure. “O-oh, Jungkook!”

“That’s right baby, scream out my name so that the neighbors can hear who’s making you feel this good.” He groans in your ear, fucking you roughly. Rapid breathing, moans, and the skin-slapping sounds were the only noise thing filling this room. You just hoped that your brother wasn’t home yet.

He suddenly brings his right up to your neck, wrapping it around your throat as he chokes you just right. You roll your eyes back from the pleasure. The feeling of his big hand wrapped around your jugular plus his hard and deep thrusts almost made you cum then and there.

“You liked being choked, don’t you, Y/n?” he chuckles, gripping your throat a little tighter and fucking you harder, “You said it in your blog, right? Its one of your dirty little fantasies.” He whispers. You only nod, struggling to form any sentence in your brain.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me, hmm? Letting me take over your cute little body as I ruin you,” he smirks cockily as he pounds harder, making you scream as you close your eyes tight. “Have you been dreaming about this, baby? Do you have dreams about me fucking you hard and rough like this?”

“Y-yes,” you faintly reply, scratching his back with your nails. That action made him throw his head back in pleasure, revealing his neck that had protruding veins on the sides. “I always thought that you were such a pure and innocent little girl, baby. I never thought that you’d be this dirty.” His thrusts were even roughly than before – and boy does he have good stamina.

“A-ahh, Jungkook, I’m gonna…” You can feel yourself pulsing around him again and he groans darkly, using his free hand to rub your clit harshly. “You gonna come for me again, yeah? Come on baby, you can do it.”

You were feeling so fucked out already but you want to cum for the third time today. He presses his chest on yours, both sweaty bodies colliding and as close as you could possibly get. His thrusts became sloppy, signaling that his high was close as well. “Hold it in.”

Your eyes widen at him, creasing your brows. “W-what?”

You couldn’t hold it it, you couldn’t. The way how he pounds into you makes it hard for you to prevent your cum to spill all over his member. “I-I can’t,” you shake your head. Jungkook groans, feeling how tight you’ve become. “I know you can. Fucking hold it in, baby. We’re gonna come together.”

He fucked you faster and harder until he was almost about to come, “Now, angel, cum with me.” The both of you released together and it was pure bliss. You couldn’t contain how hard your legs were trembling from how intense your orgasm was. You covered your mouth with your hand as your orgasm kept going. “S-shit, baby.” Jungkook chuckles, “You came so fucking hard.” He tilts his head to the side, admiring your exquisite body quivering from the pleasure. He removed the condom that was filled with cum and tied it, throwing it on the bin at the corner of your room. He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss on your lips, trying to calm you down as he ran his hands down your sides. “Hey, hey,” he smiles, pressing down on your hips and trapping them on the mattress, “breathe, babygirl.”

You mustered out a weak smile and you giggled, “Jungkook…” you tried to form words but your body didn’t let you, you were absolutely fucked out. He laughs quietly, brushing away the strands of hair that were stuck on your forehead. “You did so good for me, really. So good.” He whispered, pressing a kiss on your lips once again.

Jungkook stands up and swoops you bridal style and carried you towards your bathroom. He sat you on top of the marble counter as he searches the cupboards for a towel. You were still breathing a little rapidly, your chest heaving up and down. He returns back to you with a towel and he cleans you up with it. The rough side of Jungkook that you had just seen has now disappeared and you were greeted with a sweet and caring side of him. “Jungkook, uh, for real…” you started, he looked at you for a mere second and continued his little duty on you, “Hmm?”

“Im sorry for, well, making that blog. I, um…I just really, really like you a lot and I couldn’t help myself.” You looked down with a blush creeping your face. You heard him scoff playfully and he made you focus your gaze at him. “Y/n, don’t be sorry about that. It’s normal for us humans to feel like that for another person, okay? I like you too.”

Your eyes widen and your heartbeat almost stops from his sudden confession, “Y-you do?”

“Yes, silly. Why would I fuck you like that if I’m not attracted to you?”

“Oh,” you begin to blush even more, making him chuckle. “You’re so cute, really, Y/n.”

“Wait, what about Taehyung though? W-what if he finds out about us?”

Jungkook smiles as he positions himself in between your legs. He pressed a gently kiss on your chin, to your nose, then up to your forehead. “Angel,” he starts, “I’ve actually told Tae countless of times how much I like her little sister.” He chuckles when your eyes enlarge once again, “he knows that I like you, and I think he’s gonna be fine with it.”

You couldn’t help but to feel a sudden relief. Thank god.

Abruptly, a loud knock on the bedroom door interrupts your mood, “Hey, assholes! I hope you know that Y/n’s room isn’t soundproof at all, and I heard everything!”

You and Jungkook looked at each other at the same time with a cheeky smile plastered on your faces, “Shit.”

____________

Check out my masterlist on my blog for more and leave a note if you enjoyed, it will really inspire me to continue <3

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sugasgrowl · 5 years

Text

The Positive [Prologue]

Hello all! I am finally back from the dead after literally writing this on a whim. My other wips are sobbing in Google docs rn. But alas, I’m starting my period and am emotional and soft for dad!bts. This is by no means a super original concept whatsoever, but I just *clenches fist* needed to write it. This is the beginning of a drabble series that I assume will show the OC and Tae go from estranged friends/a one night stand to parents. Basically, I just wanted an excuse to write Tae with kids. I have no idea how long this will end up being LMFAO.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: ?? Friends to lovers? Manwhore to upstanding father? Sorta smutty eventually? There will be angst

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, Taehyung is a fuckboy but at least he owns it, Get it Sandra, mentions of hangovers

Word Count: 1513

+++

Your brain felt like mush. Like when you were a kid and twisted your swing up just to lift your feet off the ground and spin around and around and around and the world was tilting and swaying before your eyes. The sweltering heat of the soft bed you lay on made your mouth feel just as sweaty as underneath your tits.

In your barely-alive state, flashes of the night before flickered in your mind. A beautiful face catching in the glare of neon lights. Thumping bass rattling your lungs as you pressed your body against his. Deep kisses that took your breath away, tongues that slid against each other. A warm, eager mouth desperate to explore every inch of you. Burning, honey skin whose heat relaxed you more than the alcohol. And then...pleasure. Mind blowing, blinding white lights bursting behind your eyelids. A fullness you’d never felt before.

You really regretted drinking tequila last night.

Squirming out from under the heavy down comforter, cool air hit your face. The room around you was dreary gray from the pouring rain--piles of dirty clothes towering in the desk chair and on top of the dresser at the other side of the room barely visible in the overcast veil. Through the blurry grog of sleep, you, unfortunately, could make out the sight of multiple beer and Mountain Dew bottles, as well as an old greasy pizza box. A gaming chair and monitor. Anime posters adorned the walls. You already regretted the decision to choose dick over standards, but it’d just been so long.

The warm body beside you shifted with a throaty groan. You froze, praying to sweet angel baby Jesus that he wasn’t awake.

Taehyung. An old friend from college who never quite...left. Mentally, anyway. The two of you graduated years prior. Both of you felt the tickle of The Big Three-Oh breathing down your necks. Most of your friend group had moved on to have at least semi-decent Grown Up jobs, but somehow Tae was stuck in the same mindset he had when you were powering through classes with weak and tired prayers for graduating.

And somehow, four years later, you thought it would be a good idea to fuck him.

You took a deep breath and slowly, carefully eased out of bed to pull on your clothes. The movement made your lower half ache with memories of the night before. Despite throwing back shots like your life depended on it, you could still remember pretty much everything from the previous night. And what you remembered was...fantastic, to put it frankly. Not that you were surprised. Taehyung was a good lay, based on what you heard from most of the girls in your dorm back in the day.

Tugging your jeans up your legs, you decided that sleeping with your fuckboy friend was not the lowest or most shameful thing that had happened to you. You had been forced to move back home just a few months before, after you quite literally caught your ex in bed with another woman and left his ass in the dream city you’d both run off to to possibly start a life together. This was just a step to climb up from rock bottom.

“You’re not sneaking off, are you?” Taehyung’s deep voice made you jump.

Half closed, chocolate eyes pinned you to the spot. You wished he didn’t look so damn good. If he was less attractive, you’d be less likely to let this happen again in the future.

You sent him a small smile. “I...yeah, I gotta run. I’ve got a lot of work to do before Monday.”

He sat up on his elbow and ran a hand through his tousled, inky black locks. “You don’t have to leave yet, Y/N. You know that, right? We’re friends, we can get breakfast and catch up or something.”

You almost turned him down when you realized the nearest bus station going to the club where the two of you met, where you left your car, was a solid sixteen blocks away. It was raining out, and you had no umbrella. Not to mention, your monster of a debilitating hangover craved food.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you nodded and sent him a polite smile. “That would be nice, actually. Thanks.”

He drove you to a diner down the street where the food smelled like old grease and thin wallets, and on top of that, there was the lingering aroma of cigarettes despite the no smoking signs plastered and faded all over the smudged glass door. The waitress, Sandra, looked to be about forty. Maybe forty-five. Hell, maybe even fifty. Her pencil thin Pamela Anderson eyebrows and premature aging said that her glory days died in the early 2000s.

When she came over to take your order, her voice croaked with decades of smoking. Her exhausted expression lightened when she spoke to Taehyung. “G’morning, sweetie. You look handsome as ever this morning.”

His boxy grin lit up the sagging establishment. “Not as beautiful as you, Sandra. Busy shift?”

“Eh. It was busier around four.” She gave you a quick glance and winked at Taehyung. “Your usual Morning After order?”

He flushed to his hairline and avoided your eyes. “I….um….yeah, thanks.”

Her dark eyes fell on you. “And for you?”

“I’ll take a Morning After order as well.”

As she walked away, you slowly turned to raise your eyebrows at the beet red man across the table from you.

“Listen…”

“Still getting around then, eh?” you teased. You propped your chin in your hand. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

He gave you the finger as Sandra placed cocoas in front of you both. You bit back a snort. He never could drink coffee, even when he was half dead after pulling all nighters--which was rare.

“I’m living my best life. I don’t need your criticism and stank attitude,” he grumbled before taking a sip from the steaming mug. “I’m balls deep in good pussy. You’re just jealous.”

“Of all your pussies?”

“I haven’t seen you in two and a half years, I don’t know your preferences.” His gaze was warm and lingered as you blew the steam from your mug. “What have you been up to? I never expected to see you around here again. I thought you were some hotshot ballbusting editor off in picture perfect Fairyland or something. What happened to Mark?”

Your expression soured. His name made the cocoa taste spoiled. Lowering the drink to the sticky tabletop, you shrugged. “I’m still a hotshot ballbuster. Just…a single one.”

“Yeah, single enough to fuck me,” he sent a pointed look. “What’d he do to send you my way? I never expected you to ask to meet up like this.”

It seemed there was no escaping the questions. You took a deep breath. “Caught him in bed with someone else.”

He crinkled his nose and shook his head in disappointment. “How cliche. What an ass.”

He took offense to the quirk of your brow. “I may be a manwhore, but I’d never cheat. I just don’t commit at all.”

“How considerate of you.”

The food was surprisingly good, considering how questionable the diner looked. Maybe it was just your hangover talking, but you couldn’t complain. Especially when Taehyung offered to pay.

You started to protest, but Taehyung waved you off and placed a twenty on the table with a devilish smile. “Don’t worry about it. In honor of your sorrows.”

He paused.

“Plus, I get discounts.”

“Do I want to know how you managed that?”

His smile widened. “Sandra and I have a special bond.”

You blanched, lowering your voice to a hiss. “My god, you’re disgusting. Do you even have standards?!”

“Hey! Sandra is a lovely lady!” he hissed back, sliding out of the booth. He looked over his shoulder with waggling eyebrows. “Besides, you called me last night. I could ask you the same question.”

You hated that he was right, and you hated yourself for calling him up. As charming and undeniably sexy as he was, you suddenly had the urge to fly to the nearest doctor’s office and get tested for every STI known to man. You thought back to your abandoned tinder profile and imagined the upstanding manwhore you could’ve found that at least had a baseline standard for the hoes he pulled.

When Taehyung drove you back to the club to get your car, an awkward silence fell over the two of you. His run down death trap of a Buick Lesabre slowed to a halt, brakes squeaking mildly.

He cleared his throat. “Well. This was fun.”

You let out a tense half chuckle. “For sure.”

As you opened your door to leave, he called out to you.

“Feel free to call me again sometime. We don’t have to wait two and a half years to see each other again.”

You nodded and plastered a smile on your face. But deep down, you vowed never to call him again. At least, not for this. And not for a long, long time. All you wanted was a nap and to put this moment of weakness behind you.

#bts fanfic #taehyung fic #dad!taehyung #bts smut #taehyung smut #bts angst

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sierracolorstheworldofwords · 5 years

Text

A Christmas fic sequel that doesn’t end in angst

An: This is a sequel to a Xmas gift I wrote for @stuff-from-the-void-matron it’s also a part of an art trade we did! So yee! I hope you like it! :3

Grey covered the sky like a dark wash of watery ink, and from the clouds, soft snowflakes fell, covering the graveyard in white. A gathering of people stood, some dressed in black, and a few dressed in light grey, but one dressed in pink.

Wilford clasped his hands in front of him, bouncing on the tips of his toes, wondering what he was doing here— you couldn’t be gone! You simply couldn’t! You were just on vacation, is all, just like Dark said.

So why did he get this feeling in his chest? Like.. like he was one of those games people hit at the carnival? He felt like.. there was just this big mallet, hitting at his heart, breaking the delicate sugar coating that always surrounded it. If he kept thinking about you, that delicate coating would break, and all of his insides, like expired strawberry syrup would leak out of his chest.

You couldn’t be gone, you couldn’t.

Nobody went away forever!

They always came back, always.

Even though.. even though he hadn’t seen.. Damien and Celine in ages, he knew one day they’d come back, and you would be in tow too! Laughing and giggling. He already decided to forgive you! It was just a stupid grudge anyway! He shouldn’t have been so stubborn!

He watched as they lowered a dark wooden box into the ground, covering it with flowers, a bright burst of color against the cold white. Oh, why was everyone just wasting time standing around here? And oh, why were they crying? Why was someone burying all those pretty flowers? Coating dirt all over the delicate petals! It was such a waste! An utter, utter waste!

Wilford looked up at Bing, who stood across from him, on the other side of the square hole. What was wrong with his baby? Why did he look so sad? So alone?

Bing looked back, surrounded by other people he didn’t know, wearing a black suit and an orange tie, his eyes watering. Rage coursed through him like a trail of gasoline on fire, sadness followed like a sadistic kid, fueling it.

He couldn’t help but look away, back to your casket, knowing this would be the last time he’d.. he’d be here. He couldn’t.. he didn’t.. know what to do. He kept hoping this was a bad dream, that he’d wake up and it would be Christmas morning, and he’d find your car, but you’d be alive, barely frozen, and he’d bring you inside the mansion, wrapping you in blankets, turning on his heaters full blast, and holding you close. He’d warm you, he’d bring you hot cocoa, he’d.. he’d get you anything you wanted for Christmas. Anything.

He wished this was a bad dream.

Just a bad dream.

But he knew it wasn't.

Because everytime he went to sleep to recharge, he’d see your body, covered in blue frost and curled tight. Then, you would see him, sitting up and turning to him, eyes hollow and lifeless, and ask him as snowflakes fell from your eyes— why Bing? Why couldn’t you let me in?

He’d hear ice cracking as you uncurled a frozen hand, reaching towards him.. and then he’d wake up.

But this felt worse than the nightmare.

He could still see the image of your body in a black body bag as people started to walk away, leaving your parents by his side. He didn’t give a shit about them. Let them rot. Let him join too. Let him rot in hell too.

He wished he was in that casket instead, wished he was dead, cold under the ground. He didn’t wish this. Didn’t want this anymore.

He could’ve said something. Could’ve done something. Anything. Anything. Even if he stayed out in the cold with you and risk freezing to keep you warm.

He could’ve done so, so much. But he didn’t. And now you were gone.

The android said nothing as the gravediggers continued. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked behind him, finding Doc standing there, whispering that it was time to go. All he could do was nod and let himself be led away.

In the car, he sat in the back, listening to Wilford ramble about what a “strange party that was” he couldn’t say the truth, because that would risk everything. So many people would get hurt— Eric, Yan, Doc, Ed, others he couldn’t even think of. He leaned his head against the window, watching the world become hushed with white silence. Watching the place where you lay fade away from his view, until there was nothing left but the white snow.

When he got home, all he could do was say he was tired and go into his room, closing the door. Laying on his bed, he closed his eyes, ignoring the small alert in his head that his battery was low.

He had a dream.

You were there. Smiling. Giggling.

In the sunshine, you and him, by the pool, legs dipped into the cool refreshing water.

Then, the cold, slowly coming in, ice crystals forming in the blue, growing like dangerous white ferns across its surface, the sun freezing too. He panicked and— and you froze, hollow eyes staring at him and a hand, with black, withered fingers reaching towards him. You asked him in a soft voice, Bing.. why didn’t you try? Why didn’t you care? I cared for you Bing.. and now.. now I’m gone..

Cold tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, before sliding down in rivers of ice.

Your face cracked and ice crystals fell as your eyebrows furrowed in anger, screaming at him— WHY WHY DIDN’T YOU HELP ME, BING?! WHY DIDN’T YOU HELP ME?! WHY?!

All he could do was sit there, legs trapped in the frozen water. He felt his motors shutting down, gears becoming twisted and frozen with ice, his legs becoming covered in frost. He watched it all happen as you yelled at him over and over again, turning a darker shade of blue as you shrieked, saying it was his fault. All his fault. All his fault and that he should pay—

He woke up to someone shaking him.

Prime leaned over him. He heard an alarm in the distance, a soft beeping noise.

“God damn it Bing! God damn it!”

It was so, so nice.. it was almost soothing

“OLIVER GO GET THE DAMN EMERGENCY CORD, NOW!”

What if he just faded too?

He closed his eyes, fading.

Then he woke up again.

Prime had him hooked up to the wall, sat up on a few pillows, and the robot glared at him. Before raising a hand and slapping him straight across the face.

“Don’t you ever do that again.”

Bing looked at him, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He was always such a burden.. he always bothered everyone— he should’ve been more careful.

“You’re lucky I got here on time.”

The older android got up, pushing the other Googles out of the way as he exited the room. They looked back at him for a moment, before Oliver closed the door, giving him one last sad glance before leaving. He sat in the room, alone, and felt the cord plugged into his neck, quickly, he unplugged it, knowing he didn’t deserve it. Now for what he did.

For the next few months, Bing kept doing this. Barely charging himself to fifty percent, and going to sleep, until he got woken up by a nightmare. He stayed in his room, alone, in his bed, nobody could get him out, nobody.

Sometimes, he’d lay in bed, wondering if it was better if he was dead— if maybe, just maybe, he killed himself and.. and everything would be better.

Everything would be better.

Nobody would be sad, if he was gone.

Six months after your death, he couldn’t fight the thought anymore. If he just.. was gone, then.. then everything would be better.

Everything would be okay.

He stared up at the ceiling, unplugging himself as he heard laughter and music outside. Were they really having a party? Wilford probably planned it. Everyone.. didn’t care. Nobody really cared about him. Prime thought he was a burden, Wilford thought he was a dramatic crybaby. Dark just didn’t care at all.

The others— his brothers.. they were better off without him. Eric stopped asking him to come out of his room a month ago, finally gave up, the Jims used to knock on the door, Yan used to being him cookies or food..

He’d been such a burden to them, he still was. He used up electricity, took up space. Annoyed everyone. It would be better if he was gone. If he spent.. maybe if he spent one last time with them all, he wouldn’t feel so guilty about everything.

Sitting up, he struggled as his arms stiffened, the limbs not used to the weight. He let out a groan as he managed to lean against the headboard. Who was he kidding? Spending time with everyone? Like this? He’d be a burden, a nuisance. He was so stupid sometimes. So, so stupid.

He closed his eyes, feeling tired.

His eyes dropped as he listened to all the wonderful noise outside.. he wished he could be apart of it..

Then, he had a dream.

This time, you weren’t there, but a familiar face was. Mori.

Hello Bing.

He said nothing back.

I.. I have noticed you’ve had some rather dark thoughts lately.

Silence.

Especially concerning..death. And (Y/n).

He nodded, and Mori sighed, before swirling his hands, causing a white chair to appear in the even whiter room. He sat down, staring numbly ahead.

Would you really exchange their life for yours?

The android looked up, nodding.

Yeah.. he answered in a scraggly voice, I would. I know I’m not much.. compared to.. to them..but.. well, I’m practically worthless. Everyone thinks it. Everyone knows it. (Y/n) didn’t deserve to die. I did— I still do.

Mori said nothing, only blinking as a swirl appeared behind him.

You can’t know what everyone thinks, Bing. But.. you’ve had this thought for a while, haven’t you?

Yeah, I have.

I’ll give you ten days before you finally decide. Spend time with your family, with your friends, before you make your final decision.

Okay. I will.

Then, he woke up.

The next few days, everyone thought Bing was feeling better, finally accepting (Y/n)‘s death and moving on, but if someone had reached into his head, looked deep within his skull, they would’ve seen that wasn't the case. He started giving things away, cleaning his room, joking with everyone, cooking and cleaning with everyone.

“See Bing a ling! I told ya you were just being a crybaby!” Wilford said as soon as he came out, laughing and patting the android’s back as rage coursed through his wires. He said nothing. If he punched Wilford.. well, everyone would get hurt.

Each night, he had a dream. A dream that counted down the days. Until the last day passed and Mori appeared, asking him if he was ready. Trying to give him reasons to stay, yet always failing to do so.

As every day passed, he grew surer and surer.

He knew Prime would be better without him always around, talking the way he did, always messing up. He also knew that the other Googles wouldn’t have to worry about him either, they wouldn’t have to ask if he charged himself that day, or if he’d been outside to solar charge. That would be a load off their shoulders.

He knew Dark and Doc would be better without him around, they wouldn’t have to worry about the electricity costs as much anymore.

Yan, Eric and the Jims wouldn’t have to worry about their brother anymore, and wouldn’t have to wonder if he was going to isolate himself again. Host wouldn’t have to try and narrate him feeling better, or more confident. Wilford.. even Wilford wouldn’t have to worry about Bing.. or waste air calling him a crybaby or overdramatic.

Then, quicker than he could say “that’s bogus!” the tenth night came. Mori didn’t wait for him to go to sleep. Instead, he stood at the edge of his bed, saying nothing for a moment, before finally asking if Bing was ready.

“Of course I’m ready dude. It’s my time! Now, I won’t bother anyone anymore! And (Y/n) will be back— but can you like.. do me a favor?”

Mori looked at the much younger ego, and nodded, “Yes, what is it?”

“Make them all forget about me, okay? Or like.. get Host too..”

Mori’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What?”

“Please.. please make them forget.. all about me, if you can— I.. I don’t want them to remember me at all. I know they’d be happier without— heh.. without me,” Bing’s voice wavered, and the tears he’d buried deep inside the frozen snow of his chest emerged, “I just want them to be happy and.. and I know that.. s-since (Y/n) died.. nobody.. everything isn’t the same..! I was.. I was bothering everyone before and now.. well now.. I’m just bothering them more..”

Orange tears slid down his cheeks as he started to sob, whimpering as he collapsed, hating how his heart broke. Hating how he felt so helpless, like a weak puppy left outside in the middle of winter.

“Is that what you really want?” Asked Mori softly, kneeling next to Bing, “Because.. because (Y/n) wouldn’t want this.”

“How do you know? (Y/n) is dead! Gone! All because of me!”

Mori clenched his jaw, “You were protecting your family and friends from getting shot by Wilford. And nobody decided to punish him. Nobody. So you are trying to punish yourself. How can you do that? Say all those mean, hurtful things— that this was your fault; When I hear you say that— I— none, and I mean none of this was your fault. It was Wilford’s, it was the parents! That’s who is to blame!”

Bing’s face crumpled softly, and he leaned on Mori, feeling tears stain his suit as he held him tight, barely able to speak. His arms wrapped around him, clenching the white fabric, letting it all out— all those months alone. Wishing you were here, all those months laying in his bed, wishing he was dead. All those months.. all those months.. hearing his brothers knock on his door, hearing Wilford call him a crybaby, hearing Prime aggressively telling him to get over it, that he was overreacting, like usual.

Sniffing, he tucked his head into the older man’s neck, asking, “Why are you trying so hard for me?”

“Because you’re the only one who.. who.. who cares as much as I do. You want the same thing I want, I want her back. I was always too shy to talk to her, and now, I regret it deeply—“ he sighed, feeling warm tears brim at the corners of his eyes, “She was the only one who didn’t treat me like a freak.”

Bing pulled back, “I’m sorry dude.. that I.. I never really stuck up for you or talked to you when the others shunned you.. or.. wouldn’t talk to you as much.. I just— I just don’t want anyone to get hurt... I..”

“It’s alright, I understand.” He whispered, wiping his tears, “And I forgive you. But.. I also need to apologize as well.”

“You do?”

He nodded, “I’ve seen how.. Prime and his brothers treat you.. and what they've done to you.. and I’m sorry I didn’t say something.”

Bing smiled, “It’s alright— I understand. Thank you. I forgive you.” He reached in for a hug again, and smiled as he got one back.

“Also, I have something to show you. Come.”

He nodded, grabbing Bing’s hand, helping him up, before opening a black and white portal filled with swirls and leading him into it. They walked across a path of white and black cobblestones, before that faded to soft grass, revealing a field of gravestones, lit by the moonlight.

“What.. why are we—“

“Host owes me a favor.”

Bing burrowed his eyes in confusion, looking at him, “What do you mean?”

Mori only smiled, “Host, please come out.”

Host appeared out of nowhere. Practically fading into view.

“Hosts greets the two with a hello, smiling.”

“Host.. informed me of your thoughts, and.. well, it made me realize I wasn’t the only one who wanted her back so.. I decided to cash in a favor.”

“Host is glad you finally did, now he doesn’t have that having over his head anymore.”

The white suited man chuckled in response, before looking at Bing, “He’s going to revive (Y/n) Bing. Turn back the clock— only we will remember what happened. This is the last chance. If she dies—“

“I won’t let her! I’m ready I— please, I’ll do anything to bring her back…”

“The two men smile at Bing before explaining what needs to happen,” says Host, “Bing has to stop Wilford from hurting anyone. Especially (Y/n). Mori and Host will be too exhausted to do it themselves. Host will narrate the turning back of the clock, but Mori will revive (Y/n) as well. It’s a complicated process. Bing must make sure he does his part, is that understood?”

“Yes.”

“Host smiles, asking them to come to her tombstone, to begin the process. They follow. Each hopeful and excited to see their dear friend.”

After a few minutes of walking, they reached your tombstone, Host and Mori stand beside it, and Bing stands in front of it, a few tears dripping from his eyes as Host begins to narrate.

Bing felt his gears stop, and then twist backwards, currents of electricity went back into his heart, and the moon slowly moved from its position, as if pulled by an invisible string. He watched the grass slowly wave, and the noise of crickets and wind reverse into a strange melody. Even his heart, which usually pumped currents, seemed to beat in reverse. Then, everything happened faster.

Soon, it was day, and then night, and then day again, and people came and went passed your grave, passing all the graves, walking backwards to their cars and driving away.

Spring faded into frigid winter, and the flowers that once surrounded the graveyard closed, burrowing underground, as snow covered them. The snow piled up, and soon enough, your grave was open again, and he was moving backwards too, unable to control his legs as he witnessed your funeral again. But this time, all in a blur. All in a flash. He watched the days spin, his insides spinning with it like a broken clock. Everything spinning so fast yet so slow. Spinning and furling, curling— all those tears he cried when he found you—he thought he saw Mori flash by but wasn’t sure—, all the laughter he shared the night before and then— and then— He was there.

Standing in the middle of the party, Host and Mori sat on the couch, clearly exhausted.

Host waved at him, murmuring under his breath as usual, as Mori gave him a weak smile. Bing looked at them, before he heard a soft, gentle knock on the door.

Stepping forward and running past them, he opened it eagerly to see you shivering from the cold.

“Bingy— who’s at the door?”

Wilford walked towards him, but before he could push him out of the way, Bing turned around, punching him in the face. Then, he turned to you,

“Hey dude! Merry Christmas! Wanna come in?”

He could feel everyone staring as Wilford groaned, holding his nose, reaching for his gun. Bing kicked it out of his hand, before telling you to come in again.

“Don’t worry! Everything is gonna be okay my dude! Hold on a minute tho.”

Bing grabbed Wilford by the collar of his Christmas sweater, muttering angry words you couldn’t hear. You heard Wilford try to say something back, but the android wouldn’t hear it. He punched and then dropped Wilford before turning to you again.

“Hey, come in! You’re letting the heat out! And like, you look super cold! You want some hot cocoa?”

You nodded, stepping in and closing the door behind you. Bing smiled as you walked to him, he led you to the kitchen and grabbed Wilford’s gun on the way. Everyone stared in confusion, but gratitude too— they missed you so much! You were always so fun to hang around with but.. well, with Wilford holding his stupid grudge for so long that everyone practically forgot what the hell it was about!

Wilford got up with a groan, holding his bleeding nose, “Aw what the bloody hell—“

Dark rolled his eyes, strolling towards him and trying not to smirk, “You shouldn’t be mean on Christmas, Wilford, isn’t that what you always said?”

Wilford looked down at the much shorter man, before laughing himself, “Shut up you damn gremlin!” He laughed harder, “I can’t believe Bing punched me! And damn, look at my boy, he’s got a good punch!”

Everyone chuckled in response as Bing opened the back door.

You looked at Bing as milk boiled on the stove for your hot cocoa.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting rid of this stupid thing!” He made sure the safety was on before grabbing both ends and snapping it in half. Then, he threw the pieces out into the snow, looking at you with a smile, “The only guns we need are these!” He said, flexing his muscles as you giggled, grabbing the hot cocoa mix and pouring it into the milk. After mixing it around, you served two cups, handing him one.

The party continued after that, and a few people left after a few hours, mostly ones you didn’t know. Then, when everything died down, you turned to Bing (who sat next to you on the couch) and asked to stay the night, he smiled.

“Of course dude. You can stay as long as you want. I hope you don’t mind sharing a room with me though.”

Your lips quivered as you hugged him, practically sobbing in relief, “Of course I don’t mind! Thank you so much! I— my parents kicked me out and.. I was so worried and—“

“Don’t worry! I’ll make sure to take care of you, and maybe we could go get your stuff tomorrow and you can move in!”

You pulled away, smiling, “Thank you so, so much, Bing.”

He smiled at you, “You’re welcome, now let’s go to bed, okay?”

You nodded, following him into his room and falling asleep right next to him.

That night, you had a dream.

It wasn’t anything sad.. in fact, it was the happiest dream you had in a long time— it was you and Bing, laughing and giggling, smiling softly.

Then, you woke to a little chirp, wrapped up in covers right next to the android, who was perfectly warm and snuggling next you, plugged into the wall and fully charged. You leaned over and unplugged him, gently nudging him awake. He groaned, holding you closer before opening his eyes.

“Morning.” You said, smiling.

He smiled back, “Morning.”

Then, the both of you rushed into the living room, noticing you were the last ones awake. The both of you sat at the foot of the Christmas tree, and Bing passed you the few presents he bought you. He originally planned to go over to your house and give them to you but.. now, he could give them to you here!

You opened the gifts, getting a cute cup with a hot cocoa packet and candy canes, and also getting a few things you wanted all year! You hugged him, apologizing for not having any presents, but he just waved you off.

“You’re the only present I need this year my dude, you mean a lot to me.” He whispered, tears pricking in his eyes. “Ahh— I’m getting all sappy!”

You giggled, before hugging him again.

Then, after everyone opened their presents, you and Bing went to your house, your mother opened the door and before she could even say anything, Bing punched her in the face.

“Bing what the hell!”

“Sorry.” He whispered, remembering how your mother and fathers only concern after your death was the funeral costs and what the neighbors thought. They didn’t even think they were wrong about what they did.

Your father rushed over to the front door, helping your mother up, but then Bing punched him in the face too, knocking him out. With both of your parents.. on the floor and unable to get up, Bing went inside your house, and you followed. Feeling a little guilty.

The both of you went to your room, gathered everything you needed, and packed it all into two old backpacks you had, before dragging your parents to the couch and leaving.

After that, you had the best Christmas ever, all the egos (while you were gone) went and bought you presents, even Wilford, who, after he got some sense knocked into him by Bing, released how stupid he was being. You had to admit, that was an unexpected present, but.. the best present had to be Bing, who cared enough to stand up to him, and now you couldn’t be happier.

#bingiplier #bingiplier x reader #bing #wilford motherloving warfstache #markiplier wilford #wilford warfstache #xreader #reader insert #sierra’s writing

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freckled-words · 5 years

Text

Repost: Haunted Anxiety

This was originally requested by a follower, who I do not remember the name of and did not keep in my Google Doc. If you remember being the person that requested this, two years ago, your story still lives on!!

I do not recall if this is edited :D

Anti was relentless when he wanted something. Thankfully most of the things he wanted were small. Certain snack foods, movie marathons with cuddles, and sometimes late night walks.

For whatever reason Anti wanted to go out to a carnival that was in town. He’d caught sight of it the other night and had been badgering you to go since he came over that morning. You thought it was adorable how excited he was about it and could easily see him running around like a little kid through all the attractions.

The only problem was that it wasn’t in your comfort zone. You’d never been one to willingly go near large crowds. The press of people and abundance of noises were overwhelming. You were prone to anxiety attacks in those situations, particularly if something unexpected happened that startled you.

Anti, in all his excitement and determination to go with you, completely forgot about this.

It took him the better part of the day but finally you reluctantly agreed. You would have felt so guilty if you’d turned him down.

You told yourself over and over, ‘You’ll be okay. You’re with Anti, and there’ll be room to move around. It’s outdoors so you won’t be trapped. You’ll be okay.’

~~~~~`

The carnival was situated in an abandoned field outside of town. There was a ferris wheel, a haunted house, a small tunnel of love, and a bunch of food and game vendors. Just as you pictured it Anti was a ball of childish delight wanting to go from one thing to another.

What you didn’t anticipate was Anti dragging you along behind him. He held your hand tight and made you go with him to the ferris wheel. Inside that tiny rotating booth you felt yourself calm down from your initial insecurity. You were with Anti, he wouldn’t anything bad happen to you. Just now he was leaning over the edge of the bar trying to peer down at the ground. His eyes were alive with energy as he pointed out that game booth and the churro stand. After the ferris wheel you found yourself having fun. There were times when you were crowded on all sides, particularly when you were getting something to eat, and each time you clung onto Anti. He held you close, his arm around your shoulders just thinking you wanted to be closer for the physical contact. In truth it was the security of feeling his shirt under your fingers, and the scent of mint and musk that he had to him that drove you closer. They grounded you, gave you something to focus until you got free of the throng of people.

The sun was beginning to set when Anti decided you should end the day with the haunted house. You’d been dreading it all day. Anytime you walked past it you saw people going in as a steady stream. The people controlling the attraction made sure it was no more than 10 to 15 people at a time, but there wasn’t that much room between people being let it and people coming out.

You barely got a protest off your tongue when Anti grabbed your wrist and dragged you to the entrance.

You tensed up going through the doorway. Fake fog swirled through the halls, the only source of lights were black lights and lasers. You could hear people laughing and joking up ahead. People crowded in behind you and there was a group of rowdy college students in front of you.

Your eyes danced around the space trying to watch for anything or anyone that might make an attempt to scare you. Anti’s grip on your wrist let go, he pointed to a stuffed scarecrow twitching in autonomous motions, “Bet I can make it better!” Before you could tell Anti to wait he ran over to the scarecrow and slipped inside it’s electronics. You backed against the nearest wall, needing something solid to keep you steady. The throng of people inched towards the scarecrow and suddenly it was alive with movements not pre-programmed. More than a couple people let out a genuine scream and dashed onwards.

Despite hearing Anti’s laughter you couldn’t shake off the growing feeling of being alone. You wanted to leave, you wanted to get outside and away from all the noise. The air in the house was clogged with the smell of beer, popcorn, the artificial fog, and the musk of too many people close together.

The coast clear Anti popped out of the scarecrow. Seeing you against the wall and looking a little shaky he dropped his smile. He got in close, “Oi what's wrong?”

You shook your head. Your chest hurt and you weren't pulling in enough air, “Can we go? Please?”

Anti saw what was happening. He hasn't seen you like this in a while. But he knew what to do. Putting his arms around you he guided you over to a corner out of sight. His grip tightening he warned you, “I know ya don't like it but we’re getting you out.”

You buried your face against his chest just as you felt yourself get propelled. You really didn't like it when he glitched you places. The disorientation was bad enough, but it also had a tendency to leave your stomach back where you'd started.

Soon enough you were out of the haunted house and the carnival grounds all together. The fresh air was welcome, as it already began to ease your overwhelmed senses. He’d taken you to the nearby baseball field. With everyone more interested in the carnival it was abandoned for the evening.

Anti had a kind of green glow around him, providing the only source of illumination in the dark. His hands on either side of your face he asked, “Better?”

It was better. Without the feeling of eyes on you, and the lack of other stimulants your mind began to calm down and the pain in your chest began to ease. You drew air in through your nose and out through your mouth, “Better.”

Feeling more stable you mumbled, “Sorry Anti. I didn't mean to ruin your fun.”

“What the fuck are you apologizing for?” Anti was incredulous. The lights surrounding the field flickered with his spike in energy.

“If you didn't have me with you, you could have had more time at the carnival.”

The field lights flickered brighter as Anti gawped at you, “More time? Cripes your logic!” He grabbed your hips and brought you in closer, “Now listen here. You know I can fuck off and do whatever I want whenever I want. But what I wanted to do, was spend some goddamn time doing something fun with ya. But I’m also a fucking moron and didn't think about you.”

As he ranted the lights kept up a steady pulsing. Seeing that he was done you told him, “I want to spend time with you too. I really do, it's just….not comfortable for me to be in places like that.”

“And I already knew that! My head just went up my ass getting all excited.” He put his knuckle under your chin and made sure you met his eyes, “That bit of your brain that don't like crowds is a part of ya. Same as my brain sometimes wants me to go stabbing people. You still let me hang around. I got no right to not want you around for yours.”

You'd never really thought of it that way. You’d always known Anti was dangerous, hell you knew that before you even got to know him properly. There had been times when he'd come over with black eyes and blood coating his hands. You never said anything at those times, you just waited for him to clean himself up and calm down. The black would leave his eyes and he would come to you for comfort. He didn't care that he killed people, he did care about you being scared of him. The comfort and cuddles were for him more than for you. You always gave it.

To know that he thought of his murderous impulses the same way you thought of your anxiety disorder was rather grounding. You leaned in holding Anti properly. “Still, I want to make it up to you. Is there anything else you'd like to do tonight?”

Anti pressed a rare chaste kiss against your hair. His eyes scanned the field and he got an idea, “Lay down and watch.”

You gave him a curious smile but did as told. Laying down you watched Anti rub his hands together eagerly. The field lights died and he took off.

Changed to a current of energy he bounced between all the field lights and the score boards faster than your eye could follow. A streak of green light was left in his wake. You watched in amazement as it became an odd design but gorgeous design of green light blazing in the night sky.

The entire time you listened to Anti hoot and holler with laughter as he just cut loose in a way you could both enjoy.

#Antisepticeye #Repost #Haunted Anxiety #anti x reader #Reader Insert

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spideydaddyboy · 5 years

Text

SUGAR

CHAPTER 2

<<Previous Next>>

Series Masterlist

wc: 2011

(This chapter has to do with Gwen Stacy’s band, click here for a playlist of the set I put together even though only two songs are mentioned below)

The Fringe Cafe was in the middle of the city. A cool hipster coffee shop by day and a seedy alternative Bar by night. It was a regular gig for the Mary Janes. The band was front-lined by an old friend from high school, Michelle Jones-who wrote the small amount of original songs among their cover sets, and Gwen was on the drums. The rest of the band accrued through flyer’s they posted all over the city and was what they could get from the less than enthusiastic response to join their band. Over all they were pretty decent, the Fringe was a regular gig and even presented them as headliners.

They practiced during the in between hours when the cafe staff cleaned and left for the day and the bar crew came to set up. The stage was small, so there was only room for Gwen’s beast of a secondhand drum set and the rest of the band set up on the floor. It was kind of their thing to get up in the crowds faces when they jammed, it was great discounting the occasional grope a middle aged man tried to sneak in every other song. Michelle handled that pretty well, managing to break a finger in between chord variations.

Gwen breezed through the back door, yanking the orange cap off her head, shedding her jacket and bag on the retro black and white tiled floor, “sorry I’m late guys, I got held up.”

Michelle tapped the mic, providing ear shrilling feedback, Gwen grimaced, Michelle smirked, “what the hell are you wearing Stacy.”

The blonde looked down at her pressed creamy white blouse and navy flared corduroy pants, her black slip on docs the only thing adding back the substance the blouse and tartan headband took away, “I told you, I got held up, I didn’t even have time to change.”

Vinny on the bass snickered, “pop a few buttons at least,” earning a smack on the back of his head by their lead guitarist Margo.

Rolling her eyes, Gwen loosened the top three buttons on her blouse and tied the front, her (not quite natural purple shampooed) light blonde hair fell to her shoulders out of the tight ponytail she kept it in all morning, and reapplied a coat of cherry lip gloss to her lips. The set list laid out on one of the round empty tables by the stage and she took a long look at it before settling behind her drum set. Sound check had already been gone through during her absence and Gwen didn’t need a mic tonight, she gave the ready to Michelle who counted off for the first song, which was a cover of Harvard by Diet Cig.

When Gwen played the drums, it was a stress reliever, better than any drug. Pounding out all the doubt of her achievements, the uncertainty of success, her loneliness, all of it. By the end of a set Gwen would be on a surge of dopamine.

They finished the practice and took a break as patrons began to filtering through and getting drinks. Michelle was yet to turn 21 and Gwen didn’t particularly enjoy drinking, so they sat on the stage nursing glasses of cola. Vinny stood at the bar chatting up a pink haired twink and Margo was off in the back alley way taking a smoke.

“I finally nailed that gig at the Cherry Pit,” Michelle took a proud swig of her soda. “It’s an opening act for some emo pop group called ANGELCAKE or whatever but it’s an act nonetheless.”

Gwen grinned and tipped her glass, “kudos to you, we’ve been trying to get an in on that place for months. You’ve got a set of iron balls Michelle, I would’ve given up by now.”

The girl next to her smirked smugly and stood, “I’m gonna go to the ladies before we start, watch the tools?” Gwen agreed and finished off her drink, mounting the stage to fiddle with a loose screw they missed setting up.

“The Mary Janes huh?” A familiar voice rose above the drunken chatter, “didn’t peg you for a girl band.”

She spun, meeting a pair of deep blue eyes and a wide set of perfect teeth, “Harry!” Suddenly she lost the ability to breath, all too aware of the tastefully dressed billionaire's son in front of her, and the midriff accompanied with her cleavage on display in the same blouse she introduced herself in earlier that day, “oh my god, what is Harry Osborne doing here of all places?” She itched to button her shirt, but knew it would only draw his attention.

An amused smile played on his lips, “you, surprisingly. I asked around and was told by your roommate Sam I’d find you here.”

“Oh,” she squeaked, noting to give Samantha an earful when she got home. “Uh yeah, started playing drums in band class and upgraded to this after I graduated. My friend MJ and I always wanted to and here we are I guess.”

“MJ? Mary Jane?” Harry thought he had made a connection and Gwen was bemused.

“No, Michelle Jones, but it’s quite a coincidence,” she gestured at the instruments. “Are you staying for the show? The set starts in a few minutes and it’ll maybe only last 25 minutes long, I mean if you can stand a little punk music.”

He slid off his designer jacket and threw it on the floor next to what he recognized to be Gwen’s puffer, “I think I’ll manage.”

Michelle appeared from behind Harry and googled at him, Gwen grinned, “great, looks like we’re about to start.”

“I wouldn’t stand at the front if I were you,” Michelle piped, swinging her electric over her shoulder.

Vinny left his boyfriend for the night at the bar and Margo slouched in place, the smell of cigarette smoke coming off her in waves. Michelle introduced them as the ‘Fabulous and Marvelous Mary Janes’ and Gwen started the count off with a few hard hits of her sticks. Through the rowdy crowd, she made eye contact with Harry, who stood toward the middle in his own little pocket, eyes lit up as he watched her play. She gave him a daring smile and he winked, luckily her face was already red from how hard she played. The drums were like an extension of herself, her body seemed to respond to them naturally, like she knew all the right places to hit and create the perfect clash of acoustic. To Gwen, it was her art.

Half way through the set, Gwen noticed Peter in the back corner when she looked up to wipe the sweat from her eyes. He gave her his signature boyish grin and she beamed. It was only by occasion since the start of the school year that Peter would pop by her gigs, at least that was what she thought. He would take breaks to listen outside for a couple minutes during his rounds for every gig she had, tonight he decided to make a personal appearance after listening to how she felt apart from him lately, in fact he was pretty excited to see her play. It had been a while since the last time.

They finished off the set with a modern punk version of Don’t You(Forget About Me) by the Police, out of breath and drenched in sweat. Gwen untied the tartan fabric headband and used it to wipe the perspiration off her forehead and dabbed it along her chest, army shaky and weak. Two boys came to greet her; the Prince and the Pauper.

Peter went straight for Gwen once she rounded the drums to the edge of the stage, giving her a tight squeeze and disregarding how damp she was, Harry looked on from a distance, “that was so great! I forget how amazing you are with those beats!”

Harry stepped forward when Peter let go, eyes darting between the two, “you guys sounded great Gwen, I wish I’d seen it sooner.” The two men scrutinized each other and Gwen made the first move.

“Uh, Harry Osborne, this is Peter,” she gestured to her long time friend.

Peter caught on and held his hand out to shake and Harry put forth, squeezing his hand back a little two hard, “boyfriend?”

“NO!” Gwen and Peter mirrored each other, bright red and flustered at Harry’s assumption. “No,” Gwen continued, “just good friends, we’ve known each other since high school, Michelle too who you met kind of already.”

“Oh I apologize,” he laughed it off and Peter hinted at the relief in his composure. “Well it’s late, and my driver should be around here soon…”he trailed off.

Nervously Gwen held her hand out, “let me give you my number, in-in case you wanna come to any more gigs, I can get you the details without you having to search for me.”

Harry looked delighted as he gave the disheveled blonde his phone, unaware of the harsh glare Peter directed toward him, “great! Great, it was nice to see you, I’m glad I came. I’ll be in touch,” he mused and nodded in Peter’s direction before weaving his way out to the door.

Peter felt uneasy, “didn’t think you had the guts to invite him to your gig Gwennie.”

“I didn’t,” she let out all the breath trapped in her lungs. “He just showed up, said he asked around for me-I’m gonna beat Samantha to a pulp when I get home.”

He chuckled, swinging his keys around on his finger, “need a lift? Subway’s kind of dangerous this time of night.”

“Yeah, let me grab my bag,” she muttered and struggled to untie the knot in her shirt.

Peter huffed and swatted her sweaty fingers away, tugging at the fabric himself and Gwen along with it in a few stumbly steps. She held her breath again with Peter being in such close proximity, heat rolled off his fingers onto the skin of her stomach and up close she could see every individual eyelash as he looked down. The blouse jerked free from its tangle and he did up the last couple buttons where he untied, leaving the top ones for Gwen to handle, his blush hidden by the red stage lighting in the room.

“I’ll be by the door,” he gestured with his keys and maneuvered his way to the entrance.

Things scooped in hand and ears fully covered, Peter and Gwen hopped in the beat up pumpkin colored Chevy low rider Peter saved up for their Senior year, it was as orange as her knit cap. The radio played low, a classic rock tape Peter made drifted through the silence. It was surprisingly quiet for the city tonight.

Gwen leaned her head against the glass, eyes closed, the back of her head tilted back against the headrest. At an intersection Peter looked over and observed her, the smoothness of her fair skin, how the stoplight reflected off of it and gave her a blushed glow. Her lips, pink and parted with the remnant of lip gloss sweated off earlier in the evening smudged across the corners. He reached over and it came off easily with his thumb. Before he could replace his hand on the wheel, Gwen reached up and grasped it firmly in her hands, then placed them in her lap. He chuckled, aware she was fully passed out, but he wouldn’t miss a golden opportunity to be held in her hands. So he kept it there as the light turned green, steering with his left until he got to her apartment and ruefully had to tug his hand away. He watched her for a few quiet moments, listened to her take in a breath and went around to the other side of the truck to carry her up the stairs without waking her. Tucked in her blankets, Peter took one more second to look at her face, so calm and beautiful. He placed a kiss on her forehead and decided to call it a night.

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(A/N): THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! Again I am super excited to duke this series and lay out all the crazy plot twists and love triangles that comes with a good fanfic, I hope you enjoyed! (If you wanna check out more of my writing, click here!)

**Please contact me to be added to the taglist :)

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r6shippingdelivery · 5 years

Text

This had been collecting dust in my Google docs for a week, and I finally decided to just post it and stop podering what I should do with it. Some silliness coming right up (Gen, humour hopefully, 2.2k) ! No ships, no smut, just random shenanigans 😂

With an ever expanding roster of operators, training had become harder and harder to coordinate. No amount of planning and rotation was enough to keep all operators on top of their game, or knowing how to work with any possible team. That was the reason Harry turned to less conventional methods of training. Nothing would be able to totally supplant conventional training, which honed both teamwork and reflexes, but virtual reality seemed perfect to try new strategies before applying them in real life.

The reactions to the new training method had ranged from Dokkaebi and Mute’s interest, to Thatcher’s expected scorn and suspicion. Most seemed to be vaguely curious about what it would entail, and for the sake of fairness, the teams and order of participation would be randomly selected. Harry was sure this would be the perfect tool to keep Rainbow on top of its game, he couldn’t wait to see how the test run went.

Sitting next to the IT specialist who would handle the connection, Harry greeted the first operators with a relaxed smile. He regarded the attackers; overall it wasn’t a bad group despite having been picked at random. However, there was one crucial matter he needed to ask.

“Where is the fifth member of the team?”

“It was Thatcher,” Glaz answered.

That was explanation enough, but Hibana felt the need to add something. “He said he would not be a lab rat for this ‘fookin Matrix shit’, sir.”

Hibana’s impression of the older operator was spot on, and Harry saw the rest of the team trying to not laugh. Oh well, expecting any different would have been a folly. A team of four wasn’t the end of the world, not when the selected training program was such that they could probably do it even if they were going one by one, alone.

It was time for the first run of the virtual reality program, to test how well the attacking and defending simulations worked.

ATTACKING TEAM

At first there was only darkness, and a strange and dizzying feeling like someone had dipped his brain in molasses. Fuze wondered if this was a hangover simulator or if it was possible to puke when your reality wasn’t even, well, real.

The world became clearer around him with startling celerity, and he found himself in front of a building, the smell of water clinging to the air while thunder cracked ominously over their heads. He had to admit the simulation was quite convincing.

“Hostage located, attackers prepared for extraction,” a disembodied voice told them.

They all nodded at each other, ready to go. Except for Maverick. The American seemed to be rooted on the spot, unresponsive. Being the one closest to him, Fuze waved a hand in front of his face. No reaction. It was creepy, like staring at a mannequin.

“Movin’ out,” Maverick said, turning around to face the docks behind them. He proceeded to stand in place as if he was imitating a statue.

“Something is wrong with him,” Glaz helpfully stated. Hibana snorted and Fuze rolled his eyes behind his helmet. He could see that by himself, thank you very much.

“I’m giving standby a new meaning,” Maverick turned around once more and chuckled apologetically at the end.

He was clearly aware he was acting with delay, almost as if he was lagging. Could that be the answer? Perhaps the program needed to be calibrated better, and after all this was the first time tying it, so Fuze would say yes, Maverick was lagging.

“Stay together and follow my lead.” Right after saying so, Hibana dashed away towards the building.

Fuze looked at their still unmoving teammate and then to Glaz, who shrugged at him, and sprinted after Hibana before Fuze could say anything. Damn them, he didn’t want to act as a babysitter! Maybe leaving Maverick out here wasn’t so bad? This wasn’t real, death was not permanent here. However, the decision was taken for him when Maverick suddenly moved.

Following the American seemed his best choice, and if things went south, he could use Maverick as an unmoving shield of sorts. Not the most noble notion, but if he froze again, Fuze at least would find a way to use it in his favour. They reached a barricaded entrance, and he saw how Maverick insisted on breaking it. Hit by agonizingly slow hit. It was a miracle nobody shot him in the long pauses between his movements. Then, instead of entering the building, Maverick remained planted there, in front of the entrance and without cover. Damn it, not again!

A well known sound startled him, a heavy breathing that all operators hated. It made sense that the White Mask bombers had been included in the simulation, but Fuze wasn’t happy about it. Seeing the blue light get closer and closer to the still frozen Maverick, he acted by instinct and swept in to kill the bomber. It was a close call; the suit beeping menacingly before it dropped dead right in front of Maverick. And just as Fuze thought they were on the clear, a second bomber came rushing down the hall. He killed it too, taking a bullet in the process, and Maverick better appreciate his sacrifice or Fuze would personally kill him next time.

After that, the American unfroze, shooting at thin air and moving choppily forward. Everything went well for about a minute, Fuze killing the two hostiles they encountered while Maverick shot at them once they were already dead, and thus hitting nothing at all. Then he stopped again. Knowing it might take him a while to get unstuck, Fuze went to put one of his cluster charges in a nearby barricaded door. He could see the surrounding walls were reinforced, so it was safe to say there was someone inside that room. Just as the cluster charged was primed and ready to go, Maverick appeared behind him and hit him in a delayed attempt to break the barricade. The bastard hit so hard that it knocked Fuze down. The ruckus alerted the hostiles in the other side of the barricade who then shot through it, destroying his precious cluster charge and hitting Fuze as well. Everything went dark, and he was pretty sure he just died.

When he opened his eyes again, he was back on the real world, Harry praising him for his cooperative spirit as the technician disconnected him from the simulation. Fuze glared both at Harry and at the seemingly unconscious Maverick next to him. If looks could kill, they all would drop dead. Next time something like this happened he would do like Glaz and run like hell, let someone else be stuck babysitting the team’s glitchy member. Worst of all was that he had died but Maverick was still alive apparently, talk about unfair. He would make the American’s life hell next time they met at the gym.

DEFENDING TEAM

Having heard from Glaz and Fuze about their experience, the simulated environment didn’t surprise Kapkan that much. Although it was quite the whiplash to go from being on a room at the base, and next second everything was dark and a completely different room just appeared around you.

“Secure the room, protect the hostage,” the disembodied voice instructed.

Of all his teammates, only Doc was taking measure to secure the room, reinforcing a wall. Smoke was gleefully shooting holes into another wall with his shotgun, Caveira was nowhere to be seen, and Bandit was staring around the room.

“I wonder how realistic this is,” the German pondered aloud. “Any volunteers to see how friendly fire works?”

“Sure, catch this!”

A cloud of yellow gas followed Smoke’s cheerful warning, engulfing them and making them cough despite their lack of actual lungs. The simulation was apparently that realistic. Doc was screaming something between coughing fits, then everything went black.

“Mission failed, the hostage was lost.”

It was as if someone rewinded time, and they found themselves in the same situation from before, just as the announcer stated they needed to protect the hostage. Kapkan frowned, unsure about how he felt about this whole virtual reality thing and dying. It was disorienting.

“Ooh, that was fun” Smoke laughed, but he was the only one amused by their situation. “I’m pretty sure there’s more havoc to wreak.”

Shooting the hostage with the shotgun didn’t instantly kill him, but only because Doc used one of his stims on the hostage. Then he shot Smoke, but with his normal revolver. It was surprising to see Doc kill a teammate, but in this case it was not undeserved to be honest.

“Nobody else has to end up hurt if you all do your jobs,” Doc announced, earning a surprised look from both Caveira and Bandit. Kapkan on his part couldn’t care less, and he started to lay down his traps.

“You realize that’s just a bunch of pixels, right?” Bandit pointed at the hostage, “Just as we are right now.”

Kapkan was too busy fixing one of his EDDs to the door’s frame to pay attention to what Doc replied, the sound of his drill drowning everything else. Whatever he said, it was enough to get Bandit reinforcing the walls of the room. Once again Caveira had disappeared, and Kapkan decided that while not as stealthy as she was, he would also roam and see where the hostiles were coming from.

The corridor outside the room was longer than Kapkan imagined, and soon he realized they were supposed to be in some sort of plane, even if it was nothing like any other plane he’d been in. Going around the corner, he came face to face with a group of White Masks. Kapkan took a second to admire how real they looked, before opening fire on them. In the narrow corridor, there weren’t many places to take cover, and he got hit a couple of times before he killed them all. Fortunately, all he felt was a light tingling sensation at the supposed loss of health. It was reassuring to know whoever coded this simulation wasn’t sadistic enough to implement the pain associated to bullet wounds in real life.

A second wave would come soon, and Kapkan barricaded a possible entrance, setting one of his traps on another. This way he would know if they came in from any of these points. He went back to the objective room, to check how his teammates were doing, and hopefully to receive a stim shot from Doc. No such luck, Doc said Kapkan was well enough to keep fighting and that he was saving the stims for emergencies. It made sense, Kapkan supposed, but he wasn’t happy with it.

Deciding to take a more proactive role, he stepped out of the plane to see if he could spot the hostiles. The disembodied voice cautioned him to get back inside before he would die, accompanied by a fucking annoying effect that tinged everything red. What kind of bullshit was this? However, before he could turn around and get back in, someone barricaded the entrance, wooden planks sealing the door and his fate, most probably. Cursing up a storm, he broke the barricade and got inside the plane just as the red effect got stronger. He had just narrowly dodged death, he was sure. And of course, Bandit was the culprit, laughing like a hyena until Kapkan smacked the back of his head for it. It wasn’t as satisfying as it should have been, since he knew Bandit wouldn’t feel the true force of his hit.

Now that revenge was taken care of, Kapkan hid behind the nearest corner and lay in wait. When the hostiles came through the main entrance, he caught them unaware. So easy it was almost disappointing. He reloaded his weapon while waiting for the next wave of enemies, not wanting to move from this spot yet. Although he used the last of his traps on the main door. Just as he imagined, the first enemy blew himself with the trap. However, he hadn’t expected someone to drop from a hatch right above him. Fuck, he didn’t even know that thing was there!

They caught him in the crossfire and he promptly went down, unable to move and with his vision getting darker. Now would be the perfect moment for Doc to use his stim shots, Kapkan hoped the Frenchman could reach him soon, before he died from a very preventable mistake that would destroy his reputation as a hunter. He heard gunshots near him and then Bandit and Doc came into his field of vision.

Doc’s voice floated down to him, “I’ve got you, you’ll be alright.”

Any relief he might have felt was replaced by confusion when he heard a loud gunshot, then darkness. Kapkan woke up in real life and was greeted by Smoke.

“Doc is out of control, mate, I tell you.” The British defender said while looking at a screen. Kapkan got closer and saw Bandit in the simulation asking Doc why he had put Kapkan out of his misery instead of helping him. Doc claimed it had been a mistake, but Kapkan wasn’t sure if he believed him. “I hope they end soon, watching gets boring. Except when you died, that was entertaining!”

He wondered if he could get away with whacking Smoke upside the head, but Harry was observing them, no doubt taking notes on their behaviour as he always did. What a buzzkill. Kapkan instead gave Smoke a smile full of teeth, and started to plot his revenge for the next round. If the game was now team killing, he would excel at it.

#rainbow 6 siege #r6s #rainbow six siege #fanfiction #bot of these are based on things that happened to me when playing #not pictured: the time I was playing rescue hostage and there was no fucking hostage anywhere on the map 😂

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