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mechanicalpiper · 8 months ago

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Hey so I know your busy doing important things (And hearts out for whatever your doing) but I just had another idea come to mind that maybe you could put in a catalog for the future!

"Villain has just been defeated in a long battle by Hero and has decided to try a bit of seduction to win the day. However, Hero is Touch Starved to hell and back and cries at the slightest nice touch/caress"

Bonus points for some heart clenching fluff

Yours truly!

Cooper

You ever procrastinate so hard you start and finish an entirely different project?

By FAR the sappiest and most hurt/comfort-y I've done and was stupidly fun to write. Enjoy :3

Snippet #8

The sounds of strike after strike rang out through the empty city street.

Hero and Villain were once more locked in a tense brawl- nothing new, of course. It had become second nature to them by now- when you spend almost every other day scrapping with the same person for years, it's not hard to get used to it. Hell, with how familiar the two had gotten with each other's fighting styles by now, it was easy for either of them to just let their mind wander while they brawled if they just weren't feeling too up to it that day.

Hero was certainly having one of those days.

They semi-consciously blocked Villain's strikes and threw blows back, less like they were brawling for the safety of the city and more like they were doing a boring day job. An entirely different focus was on their mind... one that had stuck around for a while now. A thought? A worry? A feeling, or the lack of one? Hero couldn't tell by now.

They quickly ducked out of the way just in time as Villain threw a kick at their head, knocking them out of their train of thought and back into full consciousness.

Yeah, fuck, they were fighting Villain. Almost forgot.

Villain certainly took notice of their sudden attention. "Oh, THERE you are. C'mon, can't you at least focus? It's so much less fun when you zone out like that."

"Whuh-? Pff, fun? I'm here to stop you from committing murder, not for a little playdate." Hero grumbled back at their rival, still not fully back at attention.

"Hm. Certainly not the attitude from our first battle. Losing your touch, maybe?" Villain taunted back.

"You wish."

"I don't think I need to. You seem to be dulling just fine without help."

"Still sharper than you. I was winning without paying attention! You couldn't beat my subconscious, how do you expect to beat the rest of me?" As Hero shot back, a tiny smile began to form on their face. Wow, it's been a while since they've bantered in combat like this... it felt nice to just speak with someone, even if that someone was Villain, of all people.

"PFFFF. Winning? The only reason you're not bleeding out on the concrete right now is because I'm having fun with this. I spared you there, y'know~" Villain taunted, a confident grin on their face.

"Yeah, riiiight. How about you actually do something threatening before making simple empty thr-"

Hero was cut off by a sudden feeling- they brought a forearm up to block a strike from Villain, but instead of the expected punch, they felt a grab.

A... grab?

Hero froze in place for the slightest moment.

It was only a split second, but it felt like ages, as if their brain was desperately trying to to cling onto the brief moment. The slightest sensation.

Villain's touch was soft.

Yet, despite everything, the moment was still over far too quickly. Hero hardly even considered why Villain would go for a grab in the moment- by the time they processed the fact it was an attack, it was far too late.

Villain turned around to throw Hero against the concrete wall of the building behind them.

They let out a yelp of pain as they slammed backwards into the wall. After the touch, the motion of being thrown, the hard hit... Hero was far too disoriented to get back into action, let alone stay balanced. Unable to stand up, they just slid down against the wall with a small groan of pain until they found themself at a sitting position, defeated.

Villain let out a small, cocky giggle, stepping closer to Hero to look down at them.

Hero, while still rather disoriented, looked up to see Villain towering over them. ...Wow.

"Is that 'threatening' enough for you, sweetie~?" Villain taunted once more, looking down at the defeated Hero with cocky confidence. God, they loved the feeling of the weakened Hero looking up at them. Always felt nice to win against them.

Hero was already ignoring the pain.

Their brain latched onto that one word- one Villain didn't so much as emphasize saying, like it was nothing special.

Sweetie??

A pet name. A pet name??? Villain called them a pet name??? Sure, they've heard of it being used for taunting before, and really never thought much of it, but- but something about it felt so, so different. When was the last time they were acknowledged like that? Was there a last time? Why did just being acknowledged feel so good? Fuck, they shouldn't like this, they were beat up and lying against a wall with their arch nemesis towering over them, taunting them, but- but not k-killing them? It shouldn't feel... c-comforting, should it?...

...'Sweetheart'...

Villain just looked down at Hero, their cocky expression switched to mild confusion. They certainly didn't react like they were in much pain... Hero's face wasn't that red before, was it?

"Hm. Losing focus agai-"

Hero shook their head 'no' almost instantly, cutting Villain off in mild surprise. They were definitely paying attention, alright, but...

Villain slightly cocked their head at Hero, thinking for a moment. The pause was only a second or two, though. They were quick to get back to teasing, assuming they were simply overthinking a weird reaction.

"Hmmm~" they muttered, crouching down to get level with their defeated rival, keeping that same smug, satisfied look.

"See? I could've taken you out like that aaany time I wanted~"

Hero looked off to the side, as if trying to hide from the other's gaze- Villain's confidence only grew seeing the embarrassment they wanted out of Hero.

At least, what they saw as embarrassment. While that certainly was an aspect of it... it wasn't why Hero's attention diverted like that. Their thoughts weren't the feelings of humiliation and defeat Villain assumed.

An entirely different focus was on their mind.

A thought?

A worry?

A feeling, or the lack of one?

It could be any of them. It could depend on the circumstance. It could technically fall under every one of them, with the right logic.

Hero didn't know nor care.

All they knew is what it felt like right now.

It's a fear.

A fear of this. This emotion.

The first time in memory they've felt so... acknowledged, so strangely comfy- the only time they could have this feeling was when their nemesis was using it to taunt them. The only thing they were ever really seen or known for is their protection of the city. The Agency was obviously impersonal and corporate, other Heroes saw them as an antisocial business partner, the citizens of course only liked them for the protection, and they had nobody else outside of that despite their years of previous efforts.

The only value others saw in them was the tangible benefit they provided. The only value they saw in themself was just that. They so, so badly wanted this feeling of comfort, but they so, so deeply believed they didn't deserve it.

Believed the only way they could ever be worth loving is when it was a punishment like this.

All Villain saw was Hero looking off to the side. Zoning out again? They mumbled something to themself, leaning down just a little more.

Hero didn't always used to do that. It had them worried, honestly. It only began somewhat recently, but it was absolutely constant.

Villain felt bad. Yeah, their public motive was always money or power or whatever evil plot they had for the week would accomplish, and while those certainty were good benefits, they weren't the reason they did it.

They did it for Hero.

They weren't joking when they said they were messing with them for fun earlier. It started as just a want to fight, but the second they came across Hero, they couldn't keep themself away. At first it was simply their fighting style being fun, as Villain justified it to themself. Then the wit in their banter was more entertaining than others. Then they provided the biggest challenge. Then... well, Villain couldn't deny a sense of warmth when they were around Hero.

They had so much personality, so much energy, but as time passed it felt like they got less so. Villain was almost scared to watch it. Not because it was more fun to fight them, but rather... well, they had to admit to themself they just didn't want to see Hero so thoroughly unhappy. So sapped of life.

Villain took one hand and gently swooped it under Hero's chin, turning their head back to face them and lifting their chin a little. Hero flinched a little, but didn't pull back.

"Hey. Pay attention, sweetie."

Hero's breathing got slightly quicker. Shallower. Starting off subtle, it ramped up.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, hOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT.

The feeling of Villain's hand was the best thing they'd ever felt. In their life. They didn't know anything could be this soft, any temperature could be this comforting and warm, that any grip could be so firm yet gentle, that any gaze could be so powerful yet soft- they were completely hyperventilating, tears welling in their eyes. They didn't want to trust it, but they wanted the comfort too badly to treat this rationally. They'd never felt anything so unbelievably wonderful. They wanted it so, so bad.

Villain couldn't stop themself from gasping. They certainly weren't expecting that reaction, but seeing Hero just break down like that, they were absolutely overcome with the heat of the moment need to just... protect them. Comfort them.

Only a moment later, the two simultaneously fell into an impulsive hug.

Villain squeezed Hero tightly against them as Hero buried their face in Villain's shoulder. Hero completely stopped thinking about their doubts- only one thing mattered right now, and that was Villain. It was so unbelievably comfy, warm, happy, soft, safe... years of built up serotonin was flooding out all at once, and it only got better as Villain brought one hand up from the hug to run it through Hero's hair.

They'd never been this much of an absolute mess. They'd never been this happy in their life.

Villain just continued holding Hero tight.

Minutes passed. Neither wanted the moment to end.

But finally, after what felt like years, Hero's breathing finally began to get deeper again. Villain let out a relived sigh, though didn't quite let go yet, allowing Hero's tears to dry and breathing to fully steady. Villain stayed patient as Hero got calmer and calmer until their desperate squeeze against Villain finally relaxed.

Hero felt the safest they ever had, and Villain couldn't be happier. The idea that they were rivals didn't even cross either of their minds- it just felt so right.

"...How're you feeling?"

Hero answered in a quiet, vulnerable, satisfied whisper, more emotion in their voice than Villain had ever heard.

"...n-needed this."

For the first time in ages, an entirely new focus was on Hero's mind.

A thought?

A worry?

A feeling?

They were certainly leaning towards it being a feeling.

That feeling was love.

#heroes and villains #writeblr #creative writing #wholesome #writing snippet #writing #cuddles #hurt/comfort #villain x hero #heroxvillain #hero x villain #hero x villain community

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madwomansapologist · 1 year ago

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enjoying a day off | nami

synopsis: After a hard week, all you could think about was your day off with your girlfriend. At the beach, you figured you'd spend your time swimming, looking for shells or letting the sun warm your skin. Nami was also expecting that, but her mind was unaware of a very important fact to determine how that day would end: Nami didn't know you would be wearing that bikini.

warnings: smut. exhibitionism. public sex. praise kink. degradation. free use. masturbation. scissoring. fingering. tw:use of 'pretty, pretty little girl'. dom!nami. female!reader.

Nothing would stop you from disappearing for a whole day. No machines to create, and no Going Merry damage to repair, or pirates to deal with. What you wanted was peace. Silence. The chance to not have to worry about anything or anyone. Except for Nami, of course.

The beach was your idea. It was remote, quiet, but close enough to the port so you didn't have to walk for long. And it was beautiful. Magnificent. Just what you needed.

As soon as you arrived, Nami found a comfortable place and arranged the sheet with all your things. She lay down, her head on one of the bags, and soon sank into a fantasy book. "Aren't you going to swim with me?"

"I've had enough of water for a lifetime." Nami can stay there for how long she desire, you will enjoy the day as much as you can. You started opening the buttons on your short, rolling your eyes at her lazyness. "Shout if you need help."

You threw your shorts at her, then did the same with your t-shirt. You accidentally made Nami drop the book in her face, and it was difficult to not laugh at it. "Enjoy your boredom."

Nami held the book, throwing your clothes aside, but wasn't able to say anything. Nami could only look at the tiny piece that had been hiding under your clothes this whole time. It was almost a crime for you to dress like that in public.

It covered everything that couldn't be shown, but that was it. There was nothing left to the imagination, and yet Nami's mind managed to create so many images of you. Memories and desires mixed together.

Nami between your legs, licking without haste, squeezing your thighs. Your fingers deep into her, making her roll her eyes. Your voice. Your eyes burning with lust. Your drooling face after she tired you out. Her name coming out between your lips. All the marks on your body that came from her.

"Come here, let me bore you out", Nami throw the book. She sat on the sheet, her eyes penetrating your skin and warming your soul, tapped her lap twice. "There's your seat, pretty girl."

You always follow her orders, but this one you followed with great pleasure.

Sitting on Nami, your chest pressing against hers, you linked your arms around her neck. Nami squeezed your thighs, her nails marking your skin. "You're so beautiful. You know that, right? My beautiful girl."

The wet kisses on your neck made you close your eyes. You leaned towards her lips, squeezing Nami's shoulders just the way she likes. "You say this all the time", you whispered.

When she hold you, you feel at home. You feel safe. Like Nami could do anything to you, say anything, and nothing will never change. You're her girl. Her beautiful, pretty girl.

"Because it's true", Nami bit your shoulder. Her fingers went up to the string of your bikini, tugging at the fabric. Within seconds, even without her touching your breasts directly, your nipples were hard. "But you'd be prettier without it."

Without warning, she pulled at the fabric. She didn't undo the knot, she didn't pull it away to reveal your body: Nami tore it. With a single movement, your breasts popped out. "Hey! I still want to swim!" Even though you were still complaining, she did the same with the fabric between your legs.

Even mad that she tore your bikini apart, or that someone may see you both, you didn't even tried to cover yourself. If Nami wants to see you, then you gonna give that to her. You love to feel her gaze burning your skin.

"You can do everything you want to," Nami laid you down on the sheets. She sat on your lap, enjoying your body. She knew every little detail about it, but she still looked at you as if it were the last time. As if you were her last meal. "Just like that. Naked for me."

"We are in public, Nami!"

"Just stay like that, huh? Can you do that for me? Can my pretty, pretty little girl do what I want her to do?"

Of course you agreed.

Nami bent down, kissing your forehead. The tip of your nose. Your chin. Between your breasts. Then she licked it. The sensitive skin of your belly, your fingers that used to hold her waist, the peaks of your breasts. The licking turned into lightly biting your nipples, then squeezing your breasts until it hurt, and sucking her skin.

With her mouth full, her fingers slid into your pussy. She lightly touched your lips, a touch so delicate that it seemed ghostly. You held Nami's hair, her tongue playing with the sensitivity of your breasts, and you felt her moan against your skin. You pulled, harder this time. “You’re so good for me,” you moaned. "I want you so bad. All the time."

Just like that, she stuck a finger in you. It stung a little, you didn't expect it to be so sudden, but the teeth squeezing your nipples made the pain soon turn into pleasure. One finger became two, and soon your pussy was as wet as the sea.

"You're so loud," Nami slapped your thigh. The way your pussy throbbed against her fingers made her close her eyes. "Do you want to get caught? Do you want someone to listen to you and come watch me fucking my dirty slut?"

Nami placed one of your legs over her shoulder, and sat in a better position on top of you. "Should I let anyone here use you? You're so inviting. Is that what you want? To be fucked like a bitch?

You shook your head. "I'm your whore. Only yours."

It was exactly what Nami wanted to hear.

You spread your legs to accommodate her better. Nami touched once more your glistening lips, proud of how wet you were for her. She kissed you, her tongue exploring your mouth as if it was the first time, and started to slide herself against you.

You couldn't close your eyes. Not even blink. Because that meant you wouldn't be able to see her, and that would be such a waste. "You're so pretty", you babble praises. "So good to me."

Nami grinded against you, enamored by your words. She could feel how wet and hot you were, so ready for her. Your lips touched hers perfectly, your pelvis was made to press her clit just the way she loves.

It gets harder every day for Nami to ignore that you were made for her.

She was so slow, that your mind started to imagine all the things you wanted Nami to do to you. How you wanted her to fuck whenever she wants, however she wants. She was so good for you that you couldn't help but to starve for more.

Thrusting like that, enjoying every second, your arosal mixed with her. Your thight was so wet, you could feel the sheet cold beneath you, and you had the perfect vision of Nami's pink lips shining. It was so wet, so sticky between you both, so messy.

You would lick her clean. Drink every single tear of her sweet juice.

You could hear how wet you both were. How nasty, dirty it was. So hot. You smiled as you heard, and Nami grinded harder against you.

"Did you heard that?" Nami bit her bottom lip.

"Fuck", you couldn't breath anymore. Your Head started to burn. "You're making me... Nami, please, do something."

Faster, Nami put her thumb on your clit and pressed it. She spit on you. She didn't need to, you both were so wet, but she wanted to. And you could take anything Nami wanted you to.

She kissed, feeling you coming undone, shaking between your legs. Her nails dig into your thight's skin, making you moan. It was so hard, so good, that she couldn't control herself. With her mouth open, Nami's saliva fell on your boiling hot skin.

Nami lay on top of you, and you hugged her trembling body. “You were perfect for me,” you whispered. "You always are."

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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b0amagination · 3 months ago

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Tastes of Whumptober: Day 25

This feels like a Halloween post if I've ever made one. Writing things I didn't know I was capable of. Please heed the warnings, this is more intense than my usual writing!

Content warnings for: threats of death, mild gore via excessive blood, wound manipulation, stabbing, forced consumption of blood, creepy whumper, partial nudity, and stitching wounds.

Again: please do not read if you are sensitive to blood.

Stitches

“How many fucking times?! How many times have I found you doing this same bullshit?!” He slammed his hand down on the table, nails scraping against wood as they curled into a fist. His captive flinched away violently. “You’re terrified, just look at yourself! And yet, every time you’re afforded a bit of freedom, you find another way to test my patience!”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” They gasped, backing further through the kitchen until they hit the counter. He followed.

“I can see through your act, idiot,” he spat, not swayed as he usually may have been. Their eyes widened, just enough to betray their shock. “I know. You think this is a little routine now, don’t you? I throw you back to the basement and you play nice until I give you another chance?”

His hips pressed against theirs and he loomed over, forcing them to lean away. Wild brown eyes searched for an answer, pupils dilated to nothing.

“I don’t! I swear to you!” One finger curled in their collar ring, nearly lifting them off the ground with the force of the pull. His nose pressed into theirs, breath seeping into their pores.

“Wrong. Answer.” A guttural yell and he threw them to the floor. “You think I can’t hurt you! That’s your problem. You don’t think I’d go further.”

Their head had hit the tile and it took a few seconds to remember anything at all. The click of a lock sounded and then metal on metal, sliding and reverberating. They managed to kneel up and look back, only to see him brandishing a boning knife.

“You know what? No. You don’t even think I’ve thought further. You don’t think I have ideas I’ve forced myself to hold back from. That I could indulge in at any moment.” They were cornered, trapped in between the counters and a… dangerous place.

“I don’t think any of that! I’ll go back to the basement, I’ll never try again, you can keep me there the rest of my life! You’re acting crazy!”

“Oh, am I?!” he shouted. “Last time I checked, the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over and expecting something to change!” Screaming, he was screaming now, dropping to his knees, dragging them by an ankle. “I’m giving you what you want! Something! Is! CHANGING!”

His knee on their left thigh, forcing it flat, then pushing their legs apart.

“STOP!” They sat up too quickly, flailed, pushing at his leg even as their vision swam.

“I’ve cut you on broad, safe surfaces. But I always wanted to cut down through creases.” What he lacked in volume he made up for in dead certainty, but his hands were still trembling with rage. “Right where your arteries run. Just to see what would happen.”

He traced the crease where their thigh joined their pelvis and a palm smacked down to protect it.

“Stop touching me. Put the knife away and-!”

The knife stabbed through their hand.

The

Knife

Stabbed

Through

Their

Hand.

Disbelief couldn’t scream until he wrenched it out. And they wailed. Blood poured from both ends, and god it was just the edge, through the muscles of their pinky, missing bone, but one wound was gushing from two points. Their other hand clamped over it. Out of sight. Keep it out of sight.

“You’re pale. I wonder, where’s your blood gone?” Sick pleasure. That’s what he was getting. Holy fuck. “But I hardly nicked your thigh.”

And it slid directly into the crease, too hard, too quick, too deep. His face was red. Splattered. Bright. Dripping. Then the cabinet. It sprayed. Blood sprayed.

“Your femoral artery.” That smile was coated in it. “That’s what I hit.” And he was looking, his fingers-

“PLEASE! PL-EEEEEEAH-SE…!” Pushing into the cut, triggering some reflex deep beneath their consciousness and they were convulsing back on their elbows, black static, not enough to hide crimson pushing up their shirt, shoving into their mouth. It was skin and nail, human, but it was iron, human, pressing down their tongue, dripping down their throat, dripping down the cabinet, dripping dripping dripping.

He was back with a sewing kit. He had left. But he was back. Their ears were ringing.

And they were bleeding out on their back and he asked them “you understand now, don’t you? You have another leg. You have two arms. You have a neck. The most important ones are in the neck, you know. Could I slit it and still save you?”

He was threading a needle: a straight sewing needle.

“You- you need a… a surgical…”

“This is all I got. You’ll have to deal.”

“911…”

“You’re stupider than I thought. Scream.”

Fingers pinched raw edges together, pulling hard, forcing the needle through. Pulling harder when the thread knotted. They screamed. They didn’t know they still could.

“What do you think? Ten? Eleven? Come on, look and make yourself useful.” The collar pulled and they were sitting up, listing to the side. There was a puddle under them. Their pant leg was cut away, and the leg of their underwear. All scarlet.

He must have let them go. He said this was number five. Then number eight. He was out of his mind, he couldn’t count, and they were dying.

“I think it’s still bleeding.” Swiping across the sealed seam. Their body couldn’t hurt anymore, but it prickled through the darkness. Then smoke. Burning.

Fire in his hand, his lighter, under the knife. The blade black with ash.

“Cauterization. Something else I always wanted to try.”

They faded out, then.

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blood-grove · 9 months ago

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scar trails

now -> next life (wip)

-> tws; injuries , gore , sickness , death , vomiting (basically everything you think to expect in a zombi apocalypse)

-> older brother!kyle & black child!reader

-> a/n: okay so right this has been in my head for days now..so hear you go! also boom the reader is black bc why tf wouldnt they be (ive been dying to write abt a black!reader for so long as a black person)

-> n/n - nickname

y/n - your name ofc

"n/n c'mon" I huffed as I dragged them away from the bugs they were fawning over ignoring there complaints as we kept walking.

We needed to keep heading toward the countryside but ever since Y/N got sick I've had to make us take detours for medicine, extra food, non-expired cough medicine to try and give them some relief, and looking extra for warm sleeping spots that weren't a walker nest.

It was just a cold I knew it was, I tried my best to keep them from worrying about turning.

They'd be okay once we reached Grandpa's.

I had been avoiding eating for a while I know it's dumb but they needed the food the more they ate the quicker they'd recover.

I wish I paid attention to Moms cooking more she always knew the best food to eat while sick, I had snatched a cookbook from a while back but it'd be no use with what we have.

Y/N had been a trooper throughout this all I honestly didn't know what to say we've been out here two months now and they've been going on strong.

I know they terrified though so am I but we have to keep moving.

"Are we there yet?"

"Y/n please don't start!—"

"I was quiet for five minutes like you said!"

I could just feel that cheeky grin on your face as we walked along the railroad not like any trains would be coming threw anytime soon.

It's been fifteen minutes of 'are we there yet' and I've considered turning into a walker.

We finally reached the next town that I figured out on the map, It was empty like the rest but on the next step closer to the country I saw a medicine store and grocery store and headed for them Y/n in tow.

"Do you think they have candy?! Can we get some please?"

Y/n whined as we entered the grocery store luckily still remembering to keep there voice down as I huffed.

"Look if the candy looks..alright we can get one box okay? But we need the space for food.." I whispered as I scanned the small shop's isles zoning in on packaged and canned food.

Dropping our rather light bag to the side to fill up checking the dates as I either tossed them in or tossed them aside.

Y/n went to the small section of the candy isle before coming back with a box for me to examine.

"Look it's those chewy ones mom gets!"

"Mm.. They look fine throw them in your bag.. I think we've got enough for the week now.."

I frowned slightly as I zipped up the bag hoisting it back on me it was certainly heavier but it'd be worth it.

Y/n carried their own bag but it was just medicine and there plushie I insisted I could carry them both but they wouldn't budge or let go.

I wish I was more vigilant we had moved on to the pharmacy Y/n was deciding which flavor medicine they wanted which honestly since it was warm liquid cough medicine it wouldn't taste good regardless.

Then the door opened again.

Now we both hid behind the cashier counter I gripped the handgun our parents gave me like our lives depended on it which it did.

Y/n huddled close to me keeping quiet despite their trembling.

I've never shot really anyone with the gun walkers or people.

People were iffy during these times.

We just avoided them even if it meant on missing out on shelter or food were not idiots.

The person stepped behind the counter and we pushed ourselves further under the counter basically squeezing each other to be smaller in the cramped space.

"I know you there no point n' hiding just come out and show yourself."

He sounded older his voice rough from either age or cigs nearly as familiar as Grandpa he'd just used to go on about not wasting your lungs on the things in that gravelly voice of his.

But this wasn't Grandpa of course.

A quick look at Y/n who was on the verge of sobbing.

I flicked the handguns safety off as I stepped out aiming it at the much larger man now that I had a better look at him.

He had backed up a bit when he caught sight of the handgun despite the obvious lack of experience I was probably showing.

Sweaty palms and trembling hands.

He looked older of course not so old that I could just rush him and hope one of his aging body parts acted up, He was clearly a bit more prepared than us his gear looked professional.

Military.

Not like the two school book bags that used to hold both of our homework that were slowly getting holes in them now carrying the only possessions you both had left in the world besides each other.

"Look mate- I don't mean you any—"

"Shut up."

My voice cracked as I inwardly cringed at the attempt to sound tough gripping the gun tighter.

"..I don't mean any harm okay?.."

The man shifted as he looked at me or mainly my gun I guess mentally deciding if I was bluffing with blanks or actually knew how to shoot.

Y/n was still huddled under the counter hidden.

"..Were your parents at? Seem a bit too young to be out here on your own."

I just glared further.

"..Go away."

"Kid..I-"

"Leave or I'll fuckin' s-shoot you-"

My hands trembled as I straighten his posture.

He just nodded as he left hands still up in the air in an unconvincing attempt to fool me that he wasn't a threat.

As soon as he left and didn't try to sneak back into the store I grabbed our bags hastily sacrificing some food so we wouldn't be slowed down making sure to snatch some medicine reminded by Y/n's coughing and now sobbing fit.

Picking them up despite them not being that smaller than me as we both left the area with haste.

We have to reach the countryside.

I want to go back to getting in extra sleep for summer break and staying up late at night with Y/n, Mom, And Dad watching shitty horror film and eating ice cream.

But now the summer heat was unbearable at time the too cool nights just made me worry for Y/n's cold.

I just want to go home and be a kid.

Why do I already feel so old?.

a/n: yeahh yup didnt plan this one out..

#call of duty #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #child reader #gender nuetral reader #reader #zombie apocalypse au #apocolypse #fanfic #platonic #familial love #siblings #john price #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #gaz garrick #yeahh #doomed siblings? nah totally not(srs)

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hexofvex · 2 years ago

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Sleepless Night || Kamisato Ayato x Gender Neutral! Reader

Premise: Concerned by your husband's horrendous schedule, you have a late night talk with him.

CW: angst with comfort (bcs can I write anything else)

Total WC: 801 words

A/N: dropping in with some Ayato simp material before I go missing bcs of college again </3. Also I can't title my works for shit lmao

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You'd lost count of the hours.

Two? Three? Four? You'd been tossing and turning all night, practicing different exercises to fall asleep, all in vain. The emptiness next to you was awfully heavy, together with the silence caused by the sound of only your breathing in the room.

Of course, falling asleep by yourself wasn't uncommon. And It's not as if it ever bothered you; you understood the burden of being the Yashiro Commissioner and knew why Ayato was working so hard. And yet every night, you would be awoken by the the shuffling of your husband as he laid down next to you, before falling back asleep.

Tonight was the third night in a row when that wasn't the case.

You haven't had the time to speak with him about it. Even worse, you barely saw him around these days.

With a heavy sigh, you threw your blanket aside and stepped out of bed. Slowly and as silently as you could, you made your way to Ayato's office, attempting to not alert any servants. You opened the sliding door, silghtly cringing at the loud sound of it.

"You're not sleeping?" You heard your husband's voice greeting you.

"You're not either, darling." You retorted. "I know you're not sleeping too well usually but this is a bit too much isn't it?" As you stepped closer to him, you noticed his tired eyes and disheveled hair. Small details, unnoticeable from afar, but details that told you he wasn't in his element. Despite his hectic work schedule, Ayato would never fail in looking perfectly composed. It made his current condition all the more worrying.

You sat down at the other side of his desk, throwing a stray look over his papers. As always, the wooden surface was so covered in documents and letters you could barely even see spots of it anymore. "Are you alright? Has anything happened that requires these extra hours?"

"You know, I've heard some very interesting things."

You blinked with a slight furrow of your brow. It was an obvious change of subject, a bit sloppy (which you would blame on his sleep deprived state), but you took the bait, curious of what he was referring to.

"What things exactly?"

"Certain rumours," came the reply. "About you and Thoma."

You scoffed. Of course, why were you surprised? You, a member of a less wealthy and influent clan. Thoma, a percieved outsider, because of his heritage. The more closed minded people had made their dislike for the two of you crystal clear, so something of that nature was to be expected. "Our enemies will say anything to discredit us. But you haven't payed attention to any of that nonsense, I trust?"

"Certainly." Ayato put down his brush, finally looking you in the eye. "You are among my most trusted people. A measly piece of gossip isn't enough to shake my faith in the two of you. But it has made me think."

You placed an elbow on the desk, inching closer. "I'm not sure I follow."

"Perhaps it has been my own neglect of you that has weakened our image and allowed for these rumours to come into being."

Oh you could see it now.

"You're working now so you could free up time? No, no-"

"I have a duty to this family, [Name]."

"So do I!" You reached over the desk and held his hands. "I can help you."

Ayato sighed. "The work I do is far more dangerous than what you and Ayaka do, [Name]."

"I know. But, my love, ever since we got married I only took over the cultural affairs with Ayaka. Your burden is the same. That's not how it should be, and you know that."

"And it is yours, and her safety that I must preserve. And not just the two of you, but every person that is in my care. It's a heavy burden, but it must be done."

"It must," you said, gently brushing your thumbs over his hands. "But you're not alone anymore. You're no longer young, alone, having to protect your family and stabilise a declining clan. You're allowed to let us help."

You husband closed his eyes and looked away, tightning his grip around your fingers. "I wished you'd never have to see me in a situation like this, my dear."

You left out a soft laugh. "You've seen much worse from me. If I'm allowed to be vulnerable then so are you. Lean on me, plese."

Silence.

"Ayato."

"Alright. I can attempt to."

You grinned. "Good."

Perhaps it'll turn out to be harder than you expected. But looking in your husband's lavander eyes, obscured by stray strands of light blue hair, you found it impossible to resists the incentive to do anything in your power to protect him.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #ayato x reader

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emonaculate · 3 months ago

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Episode O: Teaser

For as long as I can remember, I've been different—special in ways I couldn’t quite understand. Maybe it was my unusually white hair or my blue eyes that resembled frozen ice cubes. I’ve tried to blend in, to act as if nothing was wrong, but normal has never been my forte.

You’re probably reading this and wondering what I’m babbling about. This isn’t the story you signed up for, right? You want to hear about all the villains I've taken down, the babies’ foreheads I’ve kissed after saving New Tokyo from yet another threat. Well, I’m getting to that—just let me be a little melodramatic for a moment. Jesus, can I ever catch a fucking break?

To those of you who just happened to stumble upon this book and have no idea what I’m talking about, let me explain. My name is Satoru Gojo, and I’m the one and only Spider-Man, protecting my home, New Tokyo, from anything and anyone that threatens its peace.

This little book you’ve found—yes, the one you’re nosily reading—is my diary of sorts. My therapist recommended I write down my feelings. According to her, I’m “severely mentally unstable” and she thinks that voicing my thoughts instead of relying on self-deprecating jokes might help me get “better.” So, here we are.

And don’t worry your pretty little head; I fully intend to start from the very beginning and explain exactly what made me so unstable in the first place. Fair warning: my story is a long one. Not that I think you mind—look at you, all curled up in your cozy pajamas, excitedly waiting for me to share the depressing tale of my life. Yeah, I can see you; don’t act shy now. Fix your posture and go drink some water! I know you’re hunched over and probably haven’t left your room all day (and no, work doesn’t count).

Sorry, that’s an old habit I picked up from—well, it doesn’t matter. Let’s begin, shall we?

Satoru was jolted awake by the sound of his curtains being ripped open, the bright sunlight burning through his closed eyelids.

"Get up, loser."

The now fifteen-year-old boy sat up and glared at his attacker; his piercing sapphire eyes locked onto a pair of matching ones. Of course, who else would wake up the birthday boy in such a cruel fashion but his annoyingly cheerful older sister, Sayori Gojo?

Standing at 5'10", Sayori looked down at her younger brother with a devilish smirk. The piercing in her lower lip gleamed with mischief, mirroring the sparkle in her eyes. Though they shared striking features—those vivid eyes and snowy white hair—the siblings couldn’t be more different. Sayori was as pale as could be, and her once-long, beautiful hair was now a choppy mess that seemed impossible to tame. It also didnt help that she had the features of a model. However, piercings adorned her face: in her nose, on her tongue, and, of course, in her bottom lip, all of which their parents disapproved of.

"You're going on fifty... why do you act like this?" Satoru grumbled, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

A squeak of disbelief escaped Sayori’s lips, clearly shocked by her brother’s claim. "I am only twenty-seven! I just recently turned that age, so let’s not act like it’s anywhere close to fifty, you freak."

Gojo rolled his eyes, slipping out of bed to stretch and prepare for his day—his birthday.

Satoru turned his back to Sayori, moving to his (one of many dressers) to pull out clothes for the day. He could feel her lingering in the doorway, a smirk still plastered on her face.

"Seriously, Sayori, I need to get dressed," he said, trying to keep his voice steady, not wanting her to mock him for anymore voice cracks. "You can’t just barge in here and expect to hang out while I’m half-asleep."

Sayori leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms. "But it’s my job as the older sister to make sure you don’t just throw on whatever looks least wrinkled."

"Well, I’m not a toddler anymore. I can dress myself." He threw a shirt over his shoulder, missing the mark as it landed on his bed instead.

"But can you really?" she teased, stepping further back into the room, her eyes scanning the chaos of clothes, figurines, and gaming controllers strewn about. "What if you end up wearing something ridiculous? You know how embarrassing that would be on your big day?"

"Sayori," Gojo warned, spinning to face her with a glare that could kill. "If you don’t get out of my room right now, I swear I’ll tell mom and dad where you were on family picture day."

Sayori's eyes widened in horror as she lifted her hands up as a sign of surrendering. Yes she was a grown woman, but both she and Satoru knew that making their parents unhappy meant them telling the siblings' grandfather.. and no one wanted to disappoint grandfather.

"Fine. Don't come crying to me if you get bullied for some funky ass fit."

"Yeah, Yeah," Satoru said, smirking as he nudged her toward the door. "Now out you go. I’m serious."

With a dramatic sigh, Sayori finally relented, stepping back into the hallway.

"Otaku loser."

She murmured to herself as she walked away from the door, flipping off the teen.

"Crack whore," he called after her, slamming the door before she could come back to kick his ass. As he turned back to his reflection, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the string of curses that followed the older woman banging on his locked room door. Once the banging died down, Satoru redirected his attention to focusing on getting ready for his birthday celebration.

Today wasn’t just any day for Satoru; it was the one day a year his family pretended he was their top priority. While most kids looked forward to presents or parties, Satoru just looked forward to being noticed.

Sayori’s visit, as chaotic as it was, had been a rare gesture. Usually, she was the ghost of the house, flitting in and out of their lives, almost always in defiance of whatever their parents were trying to enforce at the moment. If their parents praised something, she was bound to hate it. If they disapproved, she’d embrace it with open arms. But even with all her rebellion, she still managed to show up for his birthday each year, barging in to tease him and make a ruckus just because she knew it mattered to him.

His parents, however, were another story. Gojo Enterprise was their true firstborn, and everything else—including him—seemed to come second. They rarely had time for him, and on the off chance they did, their visits usually consisted of half-hearted advice, critiques on his school achievements, or reminders of how he could "be even better." If they bothered to ask about his grades, it wasn’t because they cared about him but because they wanted to show off his straight As in one of their many social gatherings.

Satoru sighed, already preparing for the disappointment he was bound to face today, as he glanced at his blurry reflection in the mirror. Staring back was a scrawny, pale kid with a mess of white hair that never seemed to settle the way he wanted. He gave his reflection a halfhearted smirk. It wasn’t that he hated how he looked—well, maybe a little—but it wasn’t exactly what he’d call intimidating, either.

He squinted, barely making out the details of his own face in the glass.

"I really need to find my glasses," He muttered, groping around on his dresser until his hand brushed the familiar, clunky frames. Sliding them on, his vision cleared, and he grimaced. There he was, in all his nerdy glory, complete with a pair of thick glasses that did nothing to boost his confidence.

Satoru sighed again as he rifled through his clothes, pulling out a graphic tee featuring a retro anime character that probably no one else in his class even knew about. He tugged it over his head and then picked out a pair of faded jeans that were just slightly too big. His sister's teasing rang in his mind, and he huffed, folding up the cuffs so he wouldn’t trip over them.

As he fiddled with his clothes, he caught sight of his reflection once more. Yep, he was thin as a twig, with a body that looked like it might snap if the wind blew too hard. But his mind quickly shifted to his upcoming birthday plans—the new manga release he asked his parents for, the multiplayer game he’d been itching to finish with Geto and Shoko. Those thoughts made him forget, even if just for a moment, about his awkward looks and lack of bulk.

He rolled his eyes as he recalled Sayori’s antics. Sure, she loved poking fun at his “style,” but it wasn’t like he could hide who he was. He was a full-blown nerd, and no amount of fancy clothes or money was going to change that.

Satoru double-checked the lock (he had made it himself using scraps from Geto's parents mechanic shop), feeling a small sense of relief as he heard the click. It wasn’t that he hated the maids or the staff—they were usually polite enough—but he couldn't stand how they’d rearrange everything, trying to turn his room into some pristine display instead of the controlled chaos he preferred.

To anyone else, it might’ve looked like a mess: figurines lined up haphazardly across his shelves, manga volumes stacked in precarious towers, and a jumble of notebooks, controllers, and cables sprawled across his desk. But to him, every item had its place. His favorite games were within arm’s reach, his sketchbooks for drawing piled near the window for the best light, and his notes from school carefully wedged between books on his bed frame. It was a system no one else could understand, but it worked.

He took a final look back at his door, almost as if he could will it to stay locked even if he couldn’t be there to guard it. With a small sigh, he turned and started down the hall, steeling himself for the inevitable attention he’d get today.

Satoru descended the grand, spiraling staircase of the mansion, his fingers trailing along the cool marble railing. It was early, and the house was quiet save for the faint hum of voices echoing from the foyer. As he reached the bottom, he spotted them—two familiar figures standing awkwardly in the grand entryway, dwarfed by towering crystal vases and oversized paintings on the walls.

“Yo, birthday boy!” Shoko called out, offering a lopsided grin as she tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. She wore her usual black leather jacket and ripped jeans with some random punk band tanktop, looking relaxed despite the stuffy atmosphere of the mansion.

Beside her stood Geto, hands in his pockets, his expression cool but with the hint of a smile he usually reserved for special occasions. “Took you long enough. I thought you’d abandoned us for some high-society brunch,” he teased, his eyes twinkling.

Satoru couldn’t help but laugh. “As if I’d ever choose those people over you two. I’d rather deal with Sayori’s wake-up calls every morning.”

The three of them exchanged grins, and the comfort of their presence helped Satoru shake off the lingering weight of his family’s expectations. Unlike everyone else in his life, Shoko and Geto never cared about who his family was or how extravagant his home looked. They were here for him, and on his birthday, that meant more than anything else.

Shoko held up a paper bag. “I brought breakfast sandwiches. Figured you might not want to eat whatever rich people snobby shit they serve here.”

Satoru’s face lit up. “You’re a lifesaver. And you know me too well.” He snagged a sandwich from her bag, taking a huge bite as they made their way toward the front door.

“So,” Geto said, raising an eyebrow, “you ready for some serious button-mashing at the arcade? I’ve been practicing, and I’m pretty sure I’ll be taking down the ‘birthday champion’ today.”

Satoru smirked, his mouth full. “Good luck with that, buddy. You’ve never beaten me before, and I don’t plan to let you start today.”

They laughed together as they stepped outside, the morning sun warming their faces. Satoru glanced back at the towering mansion behind him, then back to his friends, who waited for him by the sleek black car his family had arranged for the day.

The arcade was alive with flashing lights and the constant hum of machines, its walls plastered with neon signs and colorful yet corny posters. The air was thick with the familiar clinking of tokens, the beep-beep of high scores being shattered, and the excited chatter of kids and teens alike. Satoru, Shoko, and Geto had been there for hours, fully immersed in the chaotic joy of the place.

They had already blown through several rounds of classics—racing games, fighting games, even a basketball shooter. Geto had tried his best to dethrone Satoru on every machine, but the birthday boy’s natural knack for gaming held strong. Each time, Geto threw his hands up in defeat while Satoru flashed his signature smug grin. Shoko, meanwhile, had spent most of the day lounging in one of the booths with a soda, only occasionally joining in to wipe the floor with them in games that required quick reflexes. It appeared that the young teenage girl was too cool to play with the boys but she still appeared to enjoy watching them play.

As the hours slipped by, they barely noticed the crowd thinning around them. The noise from the machines still pulsed, but it had quieted slightly, with only the diehard players sticking around until closing time. Satoru was at one of his favorite stations—an old-school zombie shooter game with plastic guns that rattled in your hands as you fired.

He stood poised, blasting away at wave after wave of the undead, completely in the zone. Shoko sidled up next to him, leaning casually against the machine, her eyes gleaming with an idea.

"You think you’re hot stuff, huh?" She said, watching as he took out another zombie with ease.

Satoru glanced over, raising an eyebrow. "Please, I’ve been beating this game since I've known how to pronounce the word "Gameboy". What are you getting at?"

Shoko smirked. "I’m saying let’s raise the stakes. One final round before we head out. You versus me, on the zombie shooter. Winner gets to make a bet."

Geto, munching on what was probably his fifth snack of the day, looked up with interest. "Now this I gotta see."

Satoru chuckled. "What kind of bet are we talking about?"

Shoko’s eyes glinted mischievously, as if she knew something that Satoru didn't. "If I win—which, let’s face it, I probably won’t—you have to sneak us into your parents’ lab. I’ve been dying to see what kind of tech they’re cooking up in there."

Satoru froze for a second, blinking at her as if she’d just suggested something insane. "You want me to break into my parents’ private research lab?" he asked incredulously.

Shoko shrugged, nonchalant as ever. "Yeah. What, scared I might actually win?"

Satoru narrowed his eyes, the competitive edge kicking in. "Fine. But when I win, you have to actually go with me to see Alien vs Spider-Ants III"

"Deal," Shoko said, grabbing the second gun controller from the holster.

They both positioned themselves in front of the screen, the machine lighting up with eerie green and red colors as the game counted down to start. Geto leaned on a nearby arcade machine, arms crossed, watching the showdown with a growing grin.

The game began, and for the first few rounds, Satoru dominated as expected, picking off zombies with perfect aim and precision. Shoko kept pace, but just barely, struggling to keep up with his rhythm. As the levels progressed and the zombies came faster, something shifted. Shoko’s aim became sharper, her reflexes quicker, and soon she was gunning down zombies with an accuracy that surprised both Satoru and Geto.

"Shoko, when did you get this good?" Satoru muttered, beads of sweat forming on his brow as the game threw its hardest challenges at them.

She didn’t answer, too focused on the screen, her face a picture of calm concentration. The crowd around them had thinned even more, but a few people gathered to watch the final showdown. The zombie boss loomed on the screen, huge and menacing, but Shoko remained unfazed.

It came down to the final seconds. Satoru’s score was high, but Shoko had caught up, and in a burst of perfect timing, she landed the final critical shot that sent the boss crashing to the ground.

The screen flashed: Player 2 Wins!

Satoru’s jaw dropped. Geto let out a low whistle, laughing. "Well, well, looks like you’ve been hustled, sweetheart."

Shoko stood there, grinning widely, her gun still in hand as she shot Satoru a triumphant look. "Guess it’s time for you to keep up your end of the deal, Gojo."

He shook his head in disbelief, but he couldn’t help smiling. "You seriously just pretended to not be good at this game so I could show you my parents' lab?"

"Looks like it," Shoko said, leaning the gun against the machine with a satisfied click. "Now, speaking of that lab..."

Satoru groaned, rubbing his temples. "You’re insane, you know that?"

"I know," she replied, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. "But come on, we’re not really gonna pass up an adventure, are we?"

The arcade buzzed softly around them, the flashing lights now dimming as closing time neared. The clock was ticking, and Satoru knew that tomorrow, or sometime soon, he’d be leading them on a whole different kind of game—one far more dangerous than any zombie shooter.. if he got caught that is.

Satoru couldn’t believe he was actually going through with this. The city lights of New Tokyo glowed around him as he led Shoko and Geto down a deserted alley that ran along the back of Gojo Enterprises’ research lab. The building was sleek and high-tech, its walls lined with reinforced glass and flashing security cameras, and the closer they got, the louder Satoru's heartbeat thudded in his chest.

They crouched near a loading dock, out of sight from the main entrance. The thrill of sneaking out in the dead of night was exhilarating, but the stakes felt entirely different now. He took a deep breath, trying to look calm even though his mind raced. After all, he’d convinced his parents' driver to drop them off by claiming they were going to a midnight movie—no one would suspect a thing until morning.

Shoko nudged him, a grin plastered on her face. “So, how are we getting in, Mr. Genius?”

Satoru pulled a small key card from the pocket of his baggy jeans. "Family card. They give one to all Gojo relatives for ‘emergency access,’" he said, quoting the excuse his parents had given when they handed it to him years ago. He’d never had a reason to use it—until now.

Geto raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been sitting on this secret card and never used it?”

“Didn’t exactly plan on breaking into my parents’ lab,” Satoru shot back, swiping the card on a hidden panel by the door. The scanner blinked green, and with a soft hiss, the heavy door slid open. “But let’s move fast. Cameras reset every five minutes, so we don’t have much time before they pick us up again.”

They slipped inside, careful to stay low and quiet as they made their way through a dimly lit corridor. The lab felt eerily empty, with the hum of machinery and faint, blinking lights from high-tech devices casting shadows across the walls. As they crept further into the building, they passed rows of glass cases displaying various prototypes—everything from sleek gadgets to high-tech robotics in the early stages of development.

Shoko’s eyes sparkled as she inspected the devices on display. “Wow, I had no idea they were working on stuff like this,” she whispered, leaning closer to get a look at a sleek, futuristic helmet inside one of the cases.

Geto chuckled softly. “Satoru, you’ve been holding out on us. This is some next-level tech.”

Satoru rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t hide a grin. “You think I know anything about this stuff? They don’t exactly invite me to company presentations.”

They reached the far end of the corridor, where a steel door loomed, marked with a glowing red Authorized Personnel Only sign. Satoru hesitated, glancing at Shoko and Geto, both of whom seemed unfazed.

"Well, here goes nothing," he muttered, swiping his card again. This time, the door opened into an expansive room filled with a dizzying array of tech—computer stations lined the walls, and strange devices blinked and whirred on metal tables. In the center of the room was a large glass chamber, towering over them with cables stretching to the ceiling and intricate wires weaving in and out of its frame.

"What… is this place?" Satoru whispered, his voice echoing slightly in the cavernous lab.

Shoko moved closer to the chamber, her curiosity overriding any fear. “Maybe… some kind of energy source? Or a containment unit?”

Geto joined her, nodding in agreement. “Looks like something out of a sci-fi movie. You sure your parents just work in tech?”

Satoru shrugged, suddenly feeling out of place in his own parents' world. “Beats me. They’re always secretive about what exactly goes on in here.”

They edged closer to the chamber, marveling at the sleek design and the strange, pulsing energy that seemed to radiate from within. Shoko reached a hand out to the glass, her eyes wide. “Think they’d notice if we touched—"

Before she could finish, a faint hum grew louder, and the chamber seemed to activate, the energy inside swirling in bright colors that almost hypnotized them. Alarms began to blare throughout the lab, red lights flashing along the walls.

Smoke poured into the room, thick and suffocating. Satoru coughed, his heart hammering as the reality of their situation sank in. He had known this was a risky plan, but he’d never expected things to spiral out of control like this. Alarms blared louder, echoing off the metal walls, and the sound of heavy footsteps told him that security guards were close—way too close.

Shoko’s eyes darted around the room, her face unusually serious. “Satoru, we need an exit, now!”

Geto was already tugging on his arm, but Satoru hesitated for one precious second, glancing back at the chamber they’d accidentally triggered. Whatever was inside it was still glowing, pulsating faster as if it were alive.

“Gojo, move!” Geto’s shout snapped him out of his thoughts.

He tore his gaze from the chamber and followed them through the smoke-filled lab, scanning the room for any possible way out. Just as he spotted a side exit, the security guards burst through the main entrance, their flashlights cutting through the smoke.

“Stop right there!” one of them yelled, reaching for his radio to call for backup.

Satoru bolted, adrenaline fueling him as they sprinted toward the side door. He could hear Shoko’s heavy breathing and Geto’s hurried footsteps right behind him. They reached the door just in time, slipping through and slamming it shut behind them. But they weren’t safe yet. A new alarm began to sound, signaling that the side exit had been breached, and they could hear the guards mobilizing to cut them off.

“This is bad—really bad,” Satoru muttered, his voice thick with fear. His parents would never forgive him if they found out he’d broken into their lab, especially after setting off all the alarms. And that’s if he was even lucky enough to make it out without getting caught.

“We’ll worry about that later,” Shoko said, her usual nonchalance now replaced by urgency. “Just focus on getting out of here!”

They rounded a corner, spotting a stairwell that led up to the rooftop. Without hesitation, they bolted up the steps, lungs burning as they climbed. Reaching the top, they burst out onto the rooftop, gulping in fresh air as they skidded to a halt. Below them, security lights swept across the alleyway, and they could hear more guards closing in.

“Look!” Geto pointed to an adjacent rooftop a short distance away.

Satoru’s stomach dropped at the sight, but with no other option, he nodded, steeling himself. “We jump on three.”

With synchronized breaths, they counted down, then ran full speed toward the edge, launching themselves into the air. Satoru’s heart skipped a beat as he flew over the gap, barely managing to land on his feet. Shoko and Geto landed beside him, all of them wobbling but standing.

As they darted toward the next stairwell, Satoru cast one last glance back at the lab, the pulsing glow of the chamber visible through the windows. He didn’t know what they had just unleashed—or what his parents would say when they found out—but he knew that after tonight, nothing would be the same.

Satoru barely had a moment to catch his breath, a triumphant grin just starting to form on his face when the sharp, searing pain shot through his hand. It felt as though fire had exploded beneath his skin, racing up his arm and spreading through his entire body in waves. His muscles locked up instantly, his limbs going rigid as he collapsed onto the rooftop, his vision blurring around the edges.

He tried to scream, but his mouth wouldn't move. He could only lie there, his mind whirling as he struggled to make sense of the pain.

"Satoru!" Shoko's voice cut through the haze, sharp and panicked. Her face swam into his vision, pale against the dark sky as she leaned over him, hands hovering helplessly. "Something bit him—a spider or...something, I don’t know!"

Geto knelt beside her, his own face stricken with worry. "Stay with us, man! Just breathe, slow breaths. You’re okay."

But Satoru was no way in hell okay; he got fucking bit by the damn predator it felt like. The pain was consuming, a hot, pulsing sensation that twisted and convulsed in his muscles. His vision swam, and his hearing faded, Shoko’s frantic voice becoming muffled as though he were underwater. He couldn’t even feel his limbs anymore, just the intense, searing agony and the terrifying sense that he was slipping away.

Focus, he tried to tell himself. Breathe.

But the harder he tried, the worse it got, until the world finally faded entirely, sinking into total blackness.

Satoru blinked, trying to shake off the lingering fog in his mind. The hospital room came into focus, sharp and clear—clearer than he could ever remember seeing, actually. His eyes darted around, adjusting to the sudden brightness that seemed to be assaulting his senses. Everything was so vivid, so intensely defined. His mind stuttered over the realization, then froze as he looked over at the nightstand and saw his glasses lying there, untouched.

He swallowed, the bitter taste in his mouth making him grimace. It was the kind of taste he associated with hospital medication, antiseptic and sharp, but it was nothing compared to the shock of realizing he could see perfectly fine without his glasses.

Satoru brought a shaky hand up to his face, feeling his bare skin where his frames usually rested. He stared at his fingers, noticing the faint prickling sensation running through his hand, where a painful, pulsing ache was subsiding. He clenched his hand experimentally, and to his surprise, the movement felt almost... unnatural. Powerful, even. But also slightly off, like he wasn’t entirely in control of his own strength.

His mind raced as he tried to make sense of everything. Just as he was about to sit up, the door creaked open, and a familiar face poked through—Shoko, eyes red-rimmed and worried, though she managed a weak grin when she saw he was awake.

"Satoru," she whispered, relief flooding her expression as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. "You’re okay."

"Kind of feels like I got hit by a truck," he muttered, the sound of his own voice startling him with its newfound clarity. "But...I guess I’m fine." He hesitated, looking down at his bare hand, flexing it slowly. "Shoko, what happened? All I remember is that something bit me, and then… nothing."

Shoko glanced at the door, as if worried someone might overhear, then lowered her voice. "The doctors said it was some sort of spider bite. They were… surprised by how intense your reaction was. You were unconscious for almost a full day, Satoru. They were worried you’d need emergency care, but then you suddenly stabilized."

Satoru’s brow furrowed as he listened, the hospital room seeming to sharpen even further in his vision, every speck of dust, every crease in the bedsheets standing out. "A spider bite," he echoed, trying to wrap his head around it. He swallowed, feeling his heart rate start to quicken. "Shoko, this might sound weird, but... I don’t need my glasses."

She looked at him, momentarily confused. "What? Like... your vision’s better?"

"Perfect," he said, still half in disbelief. "Everything’s way sharper than before. And it’s not just my sight—it’s like my whole body feels different. Stronger, somehow."

Shoko’s eyes widened slightly as she watched him, the hints of worry creeping back into her expression. "Maybe… I don’t know. The doctors didn’t say anything about side effects from the bite. I figured you’d just need some meds and rest, but..." She bit her lip. "Maybe this is something else."

"Yeah, maybe," Satoru murmured, glancing down at his hand, flexing it again to see if he could detect any more changes. His hand was still tingling slightly, and for a second, he could swear he felt something coursing through him, like an electric hum simmering just under the surface.

He went quiet seeing how worried his friend had become over his current state and thought quickly to change the subject.

"So what did you tell my parents and did they find out?"

Shoko's gaze softened, and she looked away, scratching the back of her neck. "Well, I... I didn't really have to tell them much," she admitted, her voice dropping. "Your parents didn’t exactly come rushing to check on you."

Satoru nodded, the familiar sting settling in his chest. Of course they hadn’t shown up—not that he’d truly expected them to. They were probably too busy to be bothered with a minor "incident" like their only son lying unconscious in a hospital bed.

"But don’t worry," Shoko continued quickly, "Geto and I took care of everything. We told the doctors it was some freak accident at an arcade and that you didn't want to bother your family. Geto's great at talking to adults, so he handled most of it. I made sure the story didn’t get too detailed, just in case anyone decided to contact your parents."

Satoru managed a small smile, the weight lifting slightly. "You guys are lifesavers. I don’t even know how to thank you.”

Shoko grinned, folding her arms over her chest. “Yeah, well, I’m not missing my friend’s birthday just because he’s out cold in a hospital bed. Besides, that’s what friends are for, right?”

He relaxed a bit, letting himself enjoy the normalcy her words brought. "Still, sorry for dragging you both into this. I swear I’m done with ‘birthday dares’ for a while.”

“Oh, come on. Just means next year we’ll have to top it,” Shoko teased, the worry lifting from her face for the first time. “But no science labs this time. That’s my rule.”

Satoru chuckled, feeling that bittersweet blend of relief and exhaustion.

Satoru left the hospital the next morning, a strange mix of anticipation and uncertainty bubbling under his skin. Shoko and Geto stayed by his side, laughing and teasing him as he forged his parents signatures on the discharge papers and threw on his jacket. On the outside, everything seemed normal. But with each step out of the hospital and into the bustling streets of New Tokyo, Satoru couldn’t ignore the surreal sensations coursing through him.

As they walked, he noticed the colors around him seemed richer, more vivid. The sunlight was brighter than ever, and he could even make out the distant hum of traffic and the rhythmic beat of footsteps on the street in a way he’d never noticed before. Sounds that used to blend into the background now came alive with distinct clarity, like the street vendors calling out their deals or the faint clinking of coins in a cup. He found himself grinning, though he quickly covered it, hoping Shoko and Geto wouldn’t catch on.

Once he parted ways with his friends, Satoru ducked into an alley, eager to test out just how far these changes went. He glanced around, then focused on the nearest building, a three-story structure with narrow ledges and windowsills. He flexed his hands and felt that faint tingle from before, almost like his muscles were thrumming with energy, as though something deep within him was waiting to be unleashed.

With a burst of confidence, he reached up and grabbed the edge of the first window ledge. His hand seemed to stick to the surface, and he felt a strange ease as he hoisted himself up with barely any effort. Climbing felt natural, almost instinctual, as he scaled the building effortlessly, moving from ledge to ledge until he reached the top, breathing only slightly heavier than normal. He looked down, heart pounding with excitement as he realized just how far he'd come with barely a bead of sweat.

For the next few days, Satoru honed these strange abilities in secret. He found that he could leap several feet in the air, lifting his entire weight with ease, and his reflexes had sharpened to the point that he could catch a falling object before it hit the ground without even thinking about it. At home, he practiced in his room, keeping his movements swift and silent. But hiding his new powers became tricky when it came to everyday life.

He had to remind himself to walk at a normal pace, not to slam doors by accident, and to avoid overdoing it when reaching for things. More than once, he found himself gripping something—like a cup or a book—only to nearly crush it in his hands. He made a habit of wearing gloves in front of his family to keep them from noticing how sticky his grip seemed to be at times.

At school, he kept his distance, careful not to reveal just how fast he could dodge or how precise his aim had become. His classmates might have thought he was just focused on his studies, but in reality, he was constantly aware of every sound, every movement around him, his senses alive with newfound sharpness.

Yet, every time he looked in the mirror, Satoru felt a pang of disbelief. This new strength was thrilling, but the mystery of what exactly had happened to him—and what else might still change—kept him on edge. The spider bite had unlocked something inside him, something that seemed beyond his understanding, and for now, all he could do was keep it hidden and hope it wouldn’t get him into even more trouble.

"Yo, earth to Satoru! For fucksakes man, I've been calling you for about five minutes. You good?" Geto questioned his bestfriend, flicking the boy's head.

Satoru blinked seeming hyper aware of his surroundings once more, sitting at the lunch table with his friends.

"Shoko was explaining that she has free time to go see that aliens movie if you still wanna go... Hey, since when did you start wearing contacts?"

Satoru cleared his throat, forcing a grin as he adjusted his seat. "Oh, yeah—uh, thought I'd try the contacts thing. Glasses were getting annoying, you know?" He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling an uncomfortable warmth creep up as Geto and Shoko both kept their eyes on him.

Shoko arched an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she let it slide, taking a long sip of her milk tea. “Right. Well, if you’re done spacing out, are you still down for the movie tonight?”

“Of course!” Satoru said, maybe a little too enthusiastically. He winced, then shrugged, trying to play it off as nonchalance. “I mean, yeah, sounds good. I could use the distraction.”

Geto leaned back, crossing his arms and studying him thoughtfully. "Okay, but seriously, man, something’s different about you. You’re... taller? And last week you had those huge bags under your eyes, but now…” He squinted, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “It’s like you’ve hit some weird puberty growth spurt overnight.”

Satoru forced another laugh, brushing off his friends' observations with a dismissive wave. "Maybe I just finally got a good night's sleep. Been hitting the books too hard, I guess.”

Shoko wasn’t buying it. She watched him closely, her gaze drifting from his eyes to his posture, noting the way he seemed more poised, almost... alert, like he was holding back some bound-up energy. She shook her head slightly but decided to hold her tongue, letting Geto do most of the interrogating.

“Alright, fine,” Geto finally relented, shrugging. “Guess puberty is just hitting you like a truck, or maybe all those spider bites actually boosted your immune system or something.”

“Yeah, maybe it’s the spider bites,” Satoru muttered, forcing himself to look casual as he took a bite of his food, trying not to think about how true those words were.

As they settled back into their usual banter, Satoru’s mind wandered again, this time with a strange sense of exhilaration. He couldn’t wait to test the limits of his newfound abilities later, though he knew he’d have to be careful around Shoko and Geto. They might not have figured out his secret yet, but one wrong move, and they’d be onto him in no time.

The theater was packed, buzzing with the energy of weekend crowds as Satoru met up with Geto and Shoko by the concession stand. They handed him a large soda and a bag of popcorn, and the three of them made their way to their seats, laughing and chatting about random nonsense as the previews rolled.

Settling in, Satoru tried to focus on the movie as it started, the eerie music and ominous landscapes immersing him in the story. But not long after the first scene, a strange sensation began to creep over him—a tingling sense of unease prickling the back of his neck. He shifted in his seat, glancing around the theater, but everyone was engrossed in the movie, their faces dimly lit by the flickering screen.

“Satoru, you good?” Geto whispered, catching his movement.

"Yeah," Satoru replied quickly, forcing a casual smile. "Just... bathroom break, I’ll be back." He slipped out of his seat and exited the theater, the sensation growing stronger with each step he took.

The hallway outside the theater was quiet, with only the faint sounds of distant movie scenes filtering through the walls. Satoru turned toward the restroom, hoping the walk would shake the feeling off. Just as he rounded a corner, however, he heard muffled voices. A quick glance confirmed it: near the vending machines at the far end of the hall, a young girl was cornered by three men, their postures aggressive, her expression one of fear.

His heartbeat quickened, and he took a step closer, instinctively straightening, his mind racing. One of the men looked up and noticed him, his mouth twisting into a sneer.

"Hey, kid," the guy called out, his voice low and menacing, "mind your own business unless you want trouble."

Satoru froze for a moment, considering his options. He clenched his fists, then forced himself to nod and back away, walking to the restroom as if he hadn’t seen anything. But the uneasy feeling gnawed at him, intensifying with every step. There was no way he could just ignore it, not after what he’d seen.

Then, his gaze landed on a rack of merchandise near the entrance—specifically, an alien mask sold as part of a popcorn tub set. An idea sparked, and before he knew it, he grabbed the mask, slipping it over his head as he moved back toward the hallway. He made sure to pull the hood of his jacket up over it, creating a makeshift disguise. Heart pounding, he squared his shoulders and strode back toward the vending machines.

The men were still there, laughing and murmuring threats to the girl, who looked like she was struggling to hold back tears.

"Hey," Satoru called out, his voice slightly muffled by the mask. His stance was calm, but his body thrummed with the same strange energy he’d been feeling all week. "Leave her alone."

The men turned, looking stunned for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Look, it’s a freaking alien coming to save the day!” one of them sneered, stepping closer. “You better walk away now, or you’re gonna regret it.”

Satoru felt a surge of confidence, his senses heightened, and without another word, he lunged forward, his fist connecting with the guy’s stomach hard. A loud crunch was heard (okay Satoru definitely needed to learn how to pull his punches.) The man stumbled back, clutching his middle in shock coughing in agony, and the others gaped before snarling and moving toward him. But Satoru was ready.

He ducked a punch, easily sidestepping and sweeping the man’s leg out from under him, watching as he tumbled to the floor. The other grabbed his shoulder, but Satoru twisted, using his newfound strength to wrench free and land another hit square in the man’s jaw. The guy staggered back, dazed, and before they could regroup, Satoru shot the girl a quick nod.

“Run. Now,” he said, his voice steady.

The girl hesitated, then nodded gratefully and took off down the hall. The men were left disoriented, clutching their bruises as they glared at him.

“You freak!” one of them shouted, reaching out for Satoru again, but he dodged, throwing one final punch that sent the guy crashing against the candy stand. With his heart pounding and his muscles humming, Satoru straightened, watching as the men scrambled to their feet and bolted out of the hall.

"I'd put some ice on those ribs.. maybe see a doctor." He called out after them.

Satisfied, he adjusted the alien mask and slipped back into the theater, where Shoko and Geto were too immersed in the movie to notice his absence. He pulled off the mask, hiding it in his jacket with a quiet, exhilarated breath.

He'd never felt so alive.

As Satoru settled back into his seat, the adrenaline still coursing through him, he felt an odd mix of exhilaration and relief. The movie flickered on, but his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts about what just happened. He glanced at Shoko and Geto, who were completely engrossed in the film, unaware of the small battle he had just fought.

The eerie atmosphere of the movie now felt different to him; it was as if the tension on screen mirrored the heightened state he was in. He shifted in his seat, letting the popcorn bag settle in his lap as he tried to ground himself in the moment. But the feeling of empowerment lingered, nudging at the corners of his mind.

After a few moments, Geto turned to him, a bemused expression on his face. “What took you so long? Did you get lost in there or something?”

Satoru chuckled, brushing it off. “Yeah, just had a little trouble finding the restroom.” He grabbed a handful of popcorn, trying to focus on the movie and not the chaos he'd just left behind. But the image of the girl’s frightened face haunted him.

“Bet you’re glad to be back,” Shoko said, not looking away from the screen. “I heard the part where the spider-ant emerged from the woman's stomach—such a classic jump scare!”

“Totally,” Satoru replied, forcing enthusiasm into his tone. But inside, he was still replaying the confrontation in his head. He didn’t just intervene; he had fought back.

As the movie progressed, Satoru found himself occasionally glancing at the exit, half-expecting the men to return, though they were likely long gone. The thrill of standing up to them filled him with a strange sense of purpose.

“What are you thinking about?” Geto asked, noticing Satoru’s distracted demeanor.

“Just… the movie,” he said, forcing a grin. “It’s pretty intense.” He leaned back, trying to blend into the ambiance of the theater, but the incident weighed heavily on him.

Finally, as the credits began to roll, Satoru felt the energy of the theater shift. People started to stand and chatter, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to do more. He leaned over to Shoko and Geto.

“Hey, what if we check out that comic shop down the street after this? I heard they have some new releases,” he suggested, hoping to keep the momentum of their night going.

“Sounds good to me!” Shoko replied, stretching her arms. “I could use a new read.”

Geto shrugged. “Sure, why not? Just make sure you don’t get us into any trouble, alien boy.”

Satoru laughed, feeling lighter. “No promises.” As they made their way out of the theater, he took a deep breath, the cool air outside refreshing against his skin. Maybe tonight would be the start of something new for him—something more than just movies and popcorn.

Two Years Later…

At seventeen, Satoru Gojo stood tall, his once-scrawny frame now replaced with defined rippling muscles, the result of relentless training and countless nights spent honing his powers. His snowy white hair had grown out in unruly waves (he should probably cut it), which he made no effort to tame. His dimples—something he never knew he had until recently—now made every smirk dangerous, a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed by his classmates, who were starting to call him "unreasonably good-looking." Adding to the change were the black stud earrings glinting on both ears, giving him an effortlessly cool edge.

He slid a pair of sleek, pitch-black circular shades onto his face, shielding his hypersensitive sapphire-blue eyes from the glaring sunlight that threatened to overwhelm his vision. His eyes, once a challenge to focus, had become razor-sharp weapons. He could spot movement from blocks away, read the most subtle shifts in a person’s body language, and detect danger long before it arrived. But with these new skills came the annoying side effect of photosensitivity—regular daylight now felt like staring into a floodlight, hence the constant use of his shades.

It wasn’t just his body that had evolved—his entire life had shifted. For the past two years, Satoru had been living a double life, one that required not only skill but secrecy. By day, he was just another high school student at a private academy, juggling exams, family expectations, and the occasional run-in with Shoko and Geto. But by night, he was someone else entirely: Spider-Man, the masked vigilante swinging through the streets of New Tokyo.

The Suit

His transformation into Spider-Man hadn’t been easy. It had taken months of trial and error, sneaking into restricted areas of Gojo Enterprise’s labs, using the tech his parents had locked behind biometric doors and firewalls. He’d spent countless nights disassembling prototypes, siphoning materials, and testing equipment in secret. With no one to guide him, everything was self-taught—a series of failed experiments, some of which nearly blew up in his face. But eventually, the pieces fell into place, and the suit he envisioned became reality.

The final product was a sleek, custom-designed suit with a unique color palette that felt entirely his own. The base was matte black, hugging his athletic frame like a second skin. Blue accents streaked down the sides of his arms and legs, giving the suit a dynamic, aerodynamic look. And over his chest and back was the unmistakable insignia of a spider, rendered in bright white, striking a perfect balance against the black background.

He’d integrated tech from Gojo Enterprise into the suit, scavenging from discarded prototypes and building his own systems. The gloves housed web shooters—miniature, pressurized devices capable of firing synthetic webs strong enough to hold a car. His boots were equipped with magnetic grips that allowed him to cling to any surface effortlessly, and the suit itself was lined with a lightweight polymer, providing enhanced durability without sacrificing mobility.

Inside the mask, he’d embedded sensors that worked like augmented reality displays, feeding him real-time data—heat signatures, environmental readings, and even surveillance feeds he’d hacked from public cameras. He didn’t just fight crime; he studied it, locked in on threats with laser focus, moving like a shadow through the streets.

A Double Life

Two years of living like this had given him more confidence than he ever thought possible. No longer was he the awkward, nerdy kid struggling to fit in. He was stronger, faster, smarter—and it showed. His parents barely noticed the difference, too preoccupied with their business ventures to pay attention to his personal life, but that was just as well. It made it easier to keep his secret. Despite his parents not noticing; his classmates certainly did. Especially the girls.

To his friends, he was still Satoru, the same cocky kid they’d grown up with—just with a bit more... swag (cringe) now. He still met up with Shoko and Geto regularly, playing it cool as if he wasn’t sneaking out at night to swing from rooftops and take down gangs, smugglers, and corrupt politicians. They had no idea about the Spider-Man persona he’d created, and he intended to keep it that way. For now.

But even with all the training, the fights, and the wins, he knew this life wasn’t just fun and games. New Tokyo was a city of shadows, with forces far more dangerous than petty thieves lurking in its corners. And if he wanted to survive, he had to keep evolving—both as Satoru Gojo and Spider-Man.

He stood on the edge of a high-rise building, the night wind tugging at his hood, the city sprawling beneath him in a sea of glowing lights. A subtle smirk played on his lips as he adjusted his mask, tucking the alien mask that had started it all into his belt as a lucky charm.

"Alright," he whispered to himself, the thrill of the hunt thrumming through his veins. "Maximum effort, I got a chem test to study for.. just a quick patrol."

With a flick of his wrist, he fired a webline, the familiar thwip sound bringing a rush of excitement. The line caught on a nearby skyscraper, and in one smooth motion, Satoru launched himself into the night, disappearing into the cityscape like a shadow with a purpose.

Author's note: AHHHH! I've been working on this piece for months and I've done everything in my power to make sure it was perfect! I really hope everyone likes it because I really have worked super hard to make this the best piece of fiction I've ever put out. I plan to make the full story over on Ao3 if this gets enough positive feedback. Yes, Y/n has not been mentioned yet but she is coming and will be present and center in the next installment. The first big baddie is also going to be in the next chapter as well. I also want to note that this story is going to be very angst heavy so prepare yourselves. My last words of the night are be kind to one another, drink water, and live laugh love Gojo Satoru!

#S?ABT #spiderman!gojo #spiderman!gojo x reader #gojo x black!reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #S?ABT MASTERLIST

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giggly-squiggily · 8 months ago

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Peaceful Days To Come (Piofiore)

Orlok's route made me cry and he deserves only the best. T-T

Heyo everyone! I'm back again with more Piofiore- as I've said before, I'm working my way through various games in my backlog so this is a little motivator to do so; writing fluffy fics after lols. This takes place post Orlok's route, so while there are no spoilers in here, I just wanted to throw that out there.

Anywho, I hope you like it!

Summary: Takes place after Orlok's best ending. Lili and Orlok adjust to their new lives at the church and the peace that comes with it.

“Sis! Sis! Come here!”

Lili looked up from the sheets she was hanging, watching the two children running up to her with big smiles. It had been a few months since she and Orlock came to the church, turning it into an orphanage with the help of Emilio. These two had been there the longest, making them the unofficial older siblings to the rest of the children. “What’s going on?”

“Sis! Sis! Come see! Quickly!” One of the children, a boy with ruddy cheeks and amber hair took her hand, pulling her along.

“Yeah! Come see, Sis!” The other- a girl with long black plaits and a missing front tooth giggled as she pushed from behind, assisting in Lili’s capture. “Big bro is in trouble!”

“Oh, is he now?” Lili couldn’t help but let out a giggle at the thought. Even before, children seemed to adore Orlock, and he was always willing to play with them for hours on end. She was already suspecting what kind of “danger” she would come to find.

“Yeah! He’s in big trouble! Come on, come on!” Off they went, the basket of sheets temporarily forgotten as she was guided to the other side of the church.

When they reached their destination, she found Orlock on the ground, sprawled out and eyes closed. “Ugh…you got me…” He groaned theatrically, throwing a hand over his eyes as three smaller children laughed and cheered.

“We defeated the dragon!” One cried, squealing when Orlok fake swiped at them. “Wait no, he’s still alive!”

“Oh no! We failed!” A little girl gasped, covering her quivering lips with her tiny hands. The lanky boy beside her patted her head, comforting her.

“We haven't failed yet! Sis is here to help!” The ruddy cheeked boy beside Lili yelled, pulling her along with a laugh. The children cried in glee, their hope once again restored at the sight of her. “Sis! Sis! Help!”

“Oh no- didn’t I warn you kids about messing with sleeping dragons?” Lili laughed as she gathered them around, kneeling to their height as she spoke conspiratorially. “Lucky for you, there’s a secret method that will always work on dragons!”

The kids ooo’d and ahh’d, shushing each other and giggling. A few paces away, Orlok watched her with mismatched eyes, something warm in his expression.

“Well, don’t leave us hanging, sis! Tell us!” The girl in plaits pressed, leaning in with the others. Lili thought down a giggle as she gestured her closer, whispering the secret in her ear. The child’s eyes got big with wonder, and she nodded before turning to the others. Soon all the children knew, grinning as they waited for Lili’s signal.

“Oh no- I don’t like the look on their faces…” Orlok blinked, his smile faltering with mild worry at their growing grins. “Lili…what did you tell them?”

“Ready…tickle him!” Lili cried out, releasing her small army. Orlok had no time to react, yelping as they threw themselves at him.

“Wait! That’s not fa-ehehahahah! Ahehahahhaha, hohohohold ohohohohohon!” Orlok didn’t stand a chance. The second the children started tickling him, it was all over. “Wahahhait, wahahahit Lihihihihli hehehheelp!”

The mentioned blonde stood in a state of abrupt shock, not at all expecting this to work so well. She had no idea he was so ticklish!

Alas, she couldn’t reveal that fact. Instead she smiled, shuffling over to the children with a wink towards her boyfriend.

“Now what is going on here…who’s trying to tickle my beloved!” She playfully roared, grabbing onto the nearest child and tickling them until they were squealing with delight.

“It’s the lady dragon!” Another cried.

“She’s come to save him! Quick, get her!” A brave child called, but they were quickly grabbed by Orlok.

“Not so fast! I won’t let you get her!” Orlok cried dramatically, making the children scream in glee. The afternoon passed as they chased and played, their shrieks of laughter and happiness music to Lili and Orlok’s ears.

Eventually, the sun had begun to set. The sky was a warm glow of orange as they laid out beneath it, sleeping babies around them and their hands entwined.

“We’ll have to wake them up soon- if they sleep out here they’ll get sick.” Lili mused softly, stroking her fingers through the ruddy cheeked boy’s hair.

“Yeah…can we stay here for a little longer though?” Orlok asked, half buried beneath the plaited girl and another with freckles across her tan skin. “They look so peaceful.”

Lili laughed, the sound hushed as she squeezed his hand. “Okay. just a little longer.”

~~~

She must have fallen asleep. When she came too, she was no longer outside but in her bed, something warm against her side. Turning to look, she found Orlok curled up with a soft snore.

“You always look out for me.” She whispered in his hair, cuddling closer as she wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you for everything, Orlok. I love you so, so much.”

Thanks for reading!

#Piofiore #tickle #tickle fic #squiggily writes the things #orlok #liliana adornato #fluff #tooth-rotting fluff #they're adorable your honor and only deserve the best #The bad endings don't exist to me thank you next #only good ones!#the children don't have names I think in game so I didn't give them any in the fic #feel free to make names up for them if desired!

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fazfacts · 1 year ago

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TYKE & SONS LUMBER CO. SENTENCE STARTERS!

feel free to change these as needed.

❝ Well, little [___], the day has come! ❞

❝ No, not the beginning of summer or your coming of age, but me throwing you out on your ear! ❞

❝ That's what my father said to me when I was your age. ❞

❝ No one knows where [they] went. Really weird, if you ask me. ❞

❝ You'll soon be let free from this prison you call "home." ❞

❝ It's time for you to explore the world. ❞

❝ I'm going to be watching you from a safe distance. ❞

❝ I am a professional. ❞

❝ Now, get lost. ❞

❝ This is your time to shine! ❞

❝ Promise to make me a proud [parent], will ya? ❞

❝ This is as important as me teaching you how to walk on two legs. ❞

❝ I need a Mixchiato to-go, quick! ❞

❝ I ordered a Mixchiato, not a regular coffee. You really need to listen closely. ❞

❝ I expected more of you. ❞

❝ For real, if you fail this, I will ground you forever. ❞

❝ I would help, but I'm waaay too busy complaining over the simple things in life. Like weird-tasting coffee. ❞

❝ Now go! Go and make me proud! ❞

❝ The moral of the story is that you can make cocktails, even without the ice. ❞

❝ [___] is going to ruin the whole thing for me. [They] will expose me. ❞

❝ I can't let that happen. ❞

❝ I have to get rid of [them]. ❞

❝ That won't be too much of a problem. I've done similar things before. ❞

❝ I will continue to take care of those who find out more than they need to know. ❞

❝ I'm a mastermind. I can't fail. ❞

❝ Did I just have a stroke? I actually forgot my name. ❞

❝ I'm gonna get you, [___]! ❞

❝ I'm always ahead of you, you little brat! ❞

❝ Tomorrow is another day, where I hope nothing unexpected happens. ❞

❝ Please don't make this difficult. ❞

❝ What's a car? ❞

❝ Move now or I will take out the taser. ❞

❝ [___], do something! ❞

❝ Don't drag your [child] into this. ❞

❝ And that, [son], is how you avoid the cops. ❞

❝ Something isn't right. I really don't recall doing something illegal this time. ❞

❝ We need to get to the bottom of this. ❞

❝ YOU need to get to the bottom of this. Because I'm old. ❞

❝ Who told you that I would actually pay you with money? ❞

❝ Bad things happen from time to time. I'm just happy that I'm still alive. ❞

❝ Go take a look. You will like what's down there. ❞

❝ Listen, I need your help again. ❞

❝ You still owe me one after the coffee incident yesterday. ❞

❝ Go fight the robot. Or make it go away. I don't care. ❞

❝ Something happened that really upset me. ❞

❝ I was supposed to get trashed, yet I am working perfectly fine. ❞

❝ I woke up here in the dump this morning. ❞

❝ You animals wanted to trash me. ❞

❝ Look at my six-pack. I'm ripped. RIPPED! ❞

❝ I am going to crush you. I'm going to smash you to the ground, sit on you, tear you apart, and make lumber out of you. ❞

❝ You think you can stop me? ❞

❝ I knew you could do it! ❞

❝ Overall, a pretty neat battle. I give it a seven out of ten. ❞

❝ I was young once, too. I know what's hip. ❞

❝ I would strangle you if I could. ❞

❝ Nobody can ever know what my deal is. ❞

❝ Ahahahahahaha! I'm so evil! ❞

❝ Where have you been!? I was slightly worried. ❞

❝ I have something interesting to show you. ❞

❝ That's it! You're under arrest for sleep disturbance and murder! ❞

❝ Murder? Since when is that a topic? ❞

❝ Man, we really need a television. ❞

❝ Oh, [___]. Violence isn't always the solution. ❞

❝ That's what your mother would say. ❞

❝ That was a sick move. Good [boy]. ❞

❝ What. ❞

❝ ...they all died...blah blah blah...screams...blah blah blah...magic creatures and all that stuff...blah... ❞

❝ And then I sold them on the black market because the company wasn't paying off. ❞

❝ I don't like unannounced visitors in here. Get out! ❞

❝ I didn't know who was the right person to turn to. ❞

❝ I was tricked, I tell you. ❞

❝ The day would come where I would have my revenge. ❞

❝ That's what actually happened, for real! ❞

❝ We had a fight afterwards and [they] THREW me out of the window. ❞

❝ I landed on my head and they had to give me a new body because I would have died. ❞

❝ I look like a Minecraft Creeper now. ❞

❝ He looks like something that died under my bed and was stored in my fridge. ❞

❝ Agh, I'm just not a bad person. ❞

❝ Oh, boy. I think we're in for a treat. ❞

❝ I do have an answer. Yes, I really do. The answer is very interesting, [___]. The answer is complex. However, I'm not gonna tell you what it is. ❞

❝ We know that we're the good guys, and that counts, I guess. ❞

❝ Good night, and don't let the monsters get you. Hahaha. ❞

❝ Seriously!? How dumb are you? ❞

❝ I came to the conclusion that the best solution was to just lure you down here, and that was easier than I thought. ❞

❝ Don't worry, I won't just kill you off. ❞

❝ You're trapped, after all. What can you do? ❞

❝ I just wanted to experience what it felt like to be the star, for at least a moment. ❞

❝ I've had it with you!!! ❞

❝ Wow! You need to teach me that! ❞

❝ Sorry for being such a weirdo. ❞

❝ It's not like there has been any lore, ever, that took more than five years to solve. ❞

❝ If anyone needs me, I'll be in the underground disco. ❞

#tyke and sons #fnaf rp memes #rp memes #rp prompts #sentence starters #i swore id follow the results of that poll but i played 5 seconds of night 5 and decided to do this instead sfdffds

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mareenavee · 1 year ago

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Fic Authors Self Rec!

Tagged by the indominable @kookaburra1701! Rules:

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love!

I love this. OKAY LET'S GO. Tell me about how proud you are of your work, friends. You've come so far <3

Tagging: @paraparadigm, @polypolymorph, @changelingsandothernonsense, @thana-topsy, @dirty-bosmer, @thequeenofthewinter, @gilgamish, @archangelsunited, @throughtrialbyfire, @expended-sleeper, @ladytanithia and YOU yes if you see this, talk kindly about your writing journey and TAG ME BACK <3

Below the cut because I do be ramblin' (: They're not really in any particular order, I just love them all for different reasons.

1) If We Knew Anything At All

This one was a hell ship prompted by a list that Topsy shared with a bunch of us and I had a brainwyrm, then ended up crying while I wrote the end of it. Quite possibly one of my favorite ever pieces. This one is both the inevitable end to my fic universe and something completely outside time. How did I manage this? Via Sheogorath's voicing. I don't think it gets more unreliable than that.

2) Metempsychosis

A very dear friend and fantastic teammate I met through Skywind sent me this prompt and it gave me such an excellent challenge not only to flex on weird god voice stuff again, but also to bust out some spoken word poetry tricks. I did end up recording myself reading this one too and it felt like old times. I loved all the layers of references I shoved into 1,000 words. It is also my first Morrowfic. And also one that reminded me what I am capable of even more strongly than some of my other projects did. 🥰

3) Serpens Caput

This one is newer, yes BUT OH MY GODS what a flex it was. ANOTHER Morrowfic but it's set in Ceth's fic universe featuring not only major character death but the mindset of a villain in his final moments. And we get to see Danger!Josh through his eyes. It was WEIRD. WEIRD WEIRD but so much fun. I don't think I've yelled so much about a fic whilst writing before. Ceth threw me this prompt, but I don't think was expecting this to end up...being this way (: Borrowed the description of Teldryn and Nerevar from her universe and just RAN WITH IT.

4) Little Dragon

This was written as part of my cute, happy LDB!Athis polycule AU where nothing is quite as horrifically messy as my main fic universe. It is a different kind of catharsis to write, often fun and humorous and a flex in that direction, since I didn't know what i was capable of—I always write pining and heartbreak lol. This came about as part of a fic writer's duel with AU (judged by Poly) which was honestly one of the coolest fandom experiences I've ever been in. It has become its own thing now with multiple other stories and I've been in yet another fandom duel since then. So it's all cute fuzzy feelings and happy memories and I love it to bits.

and last but certainly not least:

5) The World on Our Shoulders

My longfic which throws characters into extremely tough situations, handles horribly difficult themes and topics, shows people being messy and still finds ways to show it all with grace. It's what got me out of my multi-year writing slump and truly, truly brought me back to myself. So yes maybe some of the characters have some of my irl nonsense. Some scenes are far too relatable and it's a little scary sometimes how horrible that is, but it's a different kind of Catharsis. I love also the support its gotten so far for its specific type of storytelling structure as well as all the weird details that sprawl into other stories (Like my honorable mention written for Para, Recurse) and sequels and spin offs. It's been a great joy to be writing this and it's continued to inspire me. From draft one, which I wrote in challenge mode, posting every day this last February to now, where I am mid-ground-up-edit, I love this project to bits and will do all I can to see it through to the end. I see how much I can accomplish in this project. I see what can be done with common tropes and themes and even Fic in general. It's unalienated labor that I do for the sheer hell of it because I can and it's mine and I don't have to follow The Rules. There's something beautiful about that. It's one reason I get up at the crack of dawn every day -- to write for the sake of writing. Out of spite sometimes for all the ways the world tries to crush this kind of self expression out of us. This is my gem of a project. And I am proud of it and how far I've come since I started it. (:

So now it's your turn, if you got this far. Why do you write? How have your favorite fics you've written changed your perspective on the craft so far?

#AskMareena #Fic Authors Self Rec #The World on Our Shoulders #Dragonborn and Far-Star Marked #skyrim #skyrim fic #Nyenna #LDB/Athis #LDB/Teldryn #LDB/Teldryn Sero #Nerevarine Teldryn Sero #Nerevarine Teldryn #Nerevarine #elder scrolls #tes #tesblr #fanficblr

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witheredhands-sharpenedbones · 1 year ago

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when I was a child, I was quiet. I only spoke when spoken too, and rarely replied. I hid away from everyone in dark corners, waiting for the screaming to come back, waiting to feel the roaches and spiders crawl over me as they fled my father's wrath, leaving my mother alone. We had left, but my mind was still there. I would wake with tears on my cheeks, a dream or a memory still running through my head. I still remember them. Even now, when I don't remember what I looked like as a child, I still remember the dreams of my new father reaching out and doing what my first could never, ripping my mother from the world and getting away with it.

Now I am loud. I speak for myself, I joke, I laugh. I stay away from the dark corners, I still hear the screaming, I cringe away from the roaches and spiders, their legs disturbingly familiar to my skin, they flee my new fathers wrath. My mother was no longer alone, I had sisters, a brother, I was confident now, I could speak. And yet when I wake I can still find tears on my cheeks. I still have the same dreams and memories of a preschool girl.

My new father never hurt my mother. Not like the first. He didn't hit or or throw things at her. But he yelled. The yelling threw me back there, sent me away to the dark corners. When my new father yells, I stop. I stop talking, I stop blinking, I stop breathing, I stop thinking. I use up all my energy to keep the tears in my eyes. They make me weak.

When I was 13 I had grown in confidence. I asked my mum why my new dad didn't love me. I wanted to know. He treated my sisters different, why? Was it because of them? Was it me? Was it because it because I wasn't his? My mother assured me he did. I just nodded.

When I was 15 I tried to tell him about my thoughts of suicide. He laughed. Suicide is for the weak. It'd be a cowards death. I hold no respect for the people who killed themselves, for those who couldn't push through their life. He said all of this to me, sipping on his overpriced bourbon, fiddling with his golden rings.

A year later, his cousin killed himself. My new father cried. Does he still have no respect for people who killed themselves?

My step sister was only a year older. We have been sisters for 13 years now. We were raised together. We've shared a room for a decade. I know her better than anyone. Until she left. When she was 17, she dropped out, did drugs, and got pregnant, not in that order. Those were the 3 things my new father said he never wanted. I expected him to not let her back in, or give her new rules, something. But no. She was bought back with open arms. I loved her being back, but it wasn't what I expected. But she was 17, that must have meant something.

I'm 17 now. I'm still in school, I've never had drugs, I remain child free. My new father works me to the bone with chores, then makes fun of me for not having a job. He tells me I know nothing, that I'm still just a child. I am the same age as my sister was the day she got pregnant. I'm old enough to have a child, but not yet old enough to have an opinion. I've started my last year in high school. I'm the first in my whole family to do so. My new father now calls me stupid whenever he can. He tries to catch me getting something wrong. He told me I'm dumb because I'm the child and he's the adult.

I broke my thumb 2 years ago. My friend kicked a soccer ball at it and it snapped. I was sent to the nurses office and given ice. I told my parents I think I broke it when I got home. He said no. You would be crying. It's just a little sore. 2 years later, I can't open a door, or hold a pe. for long. He recently hurt his thumb. It's broken he says. He can still move it. He can still write. Which is it? Is his broken, but mine not? how? why?

Recently, a new girl moved into my house. She is my new fathers daughter. She is a year and a half younger than me. She is a liar. She is my new fathers favourite. She lied about everything, she made fun of him, she tried to leave, but he still calls her sweety.

The last thing he called me was a cunt.

I am not his daughter. I have no father. These memories will haunt me like the dreams, these houses will follow me like the roaches and spiders. But he is not my father.

#vent post #vent

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ilovebokutokoutaro · 3 years ago

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Rue

Atsumu x reader

Warnings: neglection, toxic relationship, major character deaths, angst (what were you expecting from me istg😭), blood, accident, crying, gaslighting, blaming oneself.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"maybe dying really is a relief sometimes."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"I'm trying to talk to you here tsumu please" you found yourself begging for yet another response from him and you couldn't help but hate it, couldn't help but hate him for making you feel like you meant nothing.

"ugh I'm not in the mood" he grumbled, pushing himself in the seat more comfortably. and it had you sighing agressively, pushing on the accelerator just a bit harder. If it was any other day you'd have waited, but how many times has it been already? When would he hear you out? How many more months untill he's in the mood to talk to you finally?

"I've waited too long miya I'm getting tired so tired of you" you cried, your eyes shutting close for a split second as the tears blurred your vision making it harder to drive in the dark rainy road.

And you hands grabbed the steering wheel untill your knuckles turned white when you heard him let out a low groan in annoyance.

"me too you know, I'm getting tired of you always fucking bothering me, i don't have time for your bullshit y/n. And what now? Trying to gain my attention by calling me miya? Bet you must be screaming other guy's name when I'm not home for a few hours-" he started and you choked back on a sob before turning to look at him.

"weeks miya atsumu, weeks. you're not home for weeks. And me? You don't even hear me screaming your name, how do u hear me screaming someone else's name when i don't even do it?" Your eyes burned as more tears blinded your visoon but you could sure see the annoyance in his face.

"maybe I've turned deaf from your constant yelling that's why i can't hear you sCreAMinG mY nAmE" he laughed, with a high pitched voice to mock your own broken cries. And you just couldn't anymore. "I think we should end this here miya" you sighed, finally feeling the courage to get yourself out from the living hellhole.

"oh please I've been asking you to stop fighting with me for ages, thank god, i thought you'd never end this nagging" he sighed, getting back on his phone and you chuckled at his lack of concern.

"not this fight....i meant us tsumu. Let's end this relationship please i can't take it anymore" you sobbed, licking your chapped and dry lips as you took in a sharp breathe.

There was a moment of silence before he looked up at you, "hm? You said sum?" And it was maybe a breaking point, your sobs couldn't seem to stop. You couldn't seem to wipe away your wet cheeks out of tears, cuz another tear would always dampen your attempts turning more and more futile.

"ugh stop crying" he grumbled his eyebrows furrowing as a pit of guilt started filling him up. He had never seen you cry like this- let alone sob so hard you could barely breathe. And the pit only grew wider with the next text he recieved.

You couldn't help it, grabbing his phone out of his hands, you couldn't stop yourself from trying to throw it in the backseat untill you saw the next picture. "Pls stop flirting with me I've a gf" you read his text followed by a nude picture of his manager, it had all hopes of making it better shattering to pieces, you told him multiple times how you didn't like his manager but he always yelled at you for being too clingy.

And immediately he was stealing his phone away from your trembling hands. You opened your lips to say something but you could feel the words dying down in your throat. Tears wouldn't stop fogging up your vision as you stared at him, you could see guilt painting his face as he finally threw his phone down. "baby i swear i can explain" he started but couldn't seem to complete as you completely broke down.

Your eyes were barely focusing on the road anymore, light gasps filled the air as you tried to catch your breathe. And the last thing you heard was atsumu's loud yelling to watch out, you could see the faint of red flashing on your side of the window and as you turned your head to look at it, your eyes widened in surprise, hitting the accelerator and wishing you'd get away before the truck hit your vehicle.

And you were sure you were almost out of the way, before feeling a huge blow at your side, head banging against the cracked glass of the window you could feel yourself losing consciousness. And the last thing on your mind was atsumu.....and his lack of comcern towards you, you kind of wished you'd not have to wake up from this terrible nightmare, you kind of wished you'd die.

Atsumu's pov:

As the situation finally start sinking in, i couldn't help but stare at her wide eyed, watching how she sobbed helplessly, and just as i was about to tell her i loved her and i was sorry i could see a truck approaching us at an illegal speed. I watched as she turned to her side and panicked. The car accelerating and i almost throught we had gotten away from it.

But the huge blow had me gasping for air, the car flipped multiple times and my eyes welled up with tears from the lack of air, the glass from my window shattering and piercing my skin, but what burned wasn't the wounds but my chest when i looked at my side.

She laid there lifeless, i could see the blood seeping out from her ear and nose along with her forehead. Oh god this isn't happening rn....i couldn't even tell her i was sorry i couldn't even tell her how much i loved her.

"pls oh god" i cried tears and blood turning my vision slightly red as i yanked at the seatbelt harshly. I could feel all the pain in my body vanish as i pulled her in my chest, crawling out of the car with her in my arms may as well be the hardest part.

As i stumbled out of the car i could feel my left leg throbbing and i collapsed, her body still safe in my arms and i wished she'd blink, her eyes were left open and her body paled to colourless. I wished this was all nightmare and i could wake up right next to her in our bed.

I hope i was dead instead. And as the thoughts of her leaving filled my brain i gasped, sobbing and pulling her into my chest.

"pls oh god pls I'm so sorry, wake up y/n you can't leave me like this I'm sorry I'm so sorry please please please" i begged cradling her bloody face in my hand as i pressed her closer to my chest, choked sobs escaping my bloodied lips as she stared into nothingness.

I could hear the sirens coming closer, and my heart stopped as they pulled her out of my arms. My heart clenching as they shook their heads, indicating she was no more. I couldn't accept it i couldn't let her go just yet. At least give me a chnace to apologise for everything i did, please just one more chance. I begged to a nameless god as i saw them shutting her eyes close with their hands, this couldn't be happening.

I couldn't even get up to bid her a goodbye as thry dragged me away to a place i couldn't comprehend. Not untill i sat wrapped in baidaids, staring at the tree far outside the window blowing softly against the wind. "Let's go..... I'm done with the formalities" osamu nudged my side and i stood up, without facing him.

I felt nothing as he sighed and walked out of the huge building, i groaned and insisted to walk instead of getting in the car. Osamu sighed before pushing me in again despite my loud yelling to let me go.

My heart ached as he started the car, memories of her lifeless body haunting me to the point of tears, i wished i was dead instead, and as i walked down the hallway, people mourning everywhere i wished she wouldn't hate me for even stepping inside a building where her funeral was held. I hoped i could have showed her how much i love her just once again.

I begged for forgiveness as i stepped closer to her coffin. Her pretty smile adorning the picture put above. I slowly sat down on my knees, hands unconsciously coming into a stance of prayer as i begged for her forgiveness silently, tears flooding my eyes as i looked at her lifeless and wounded body. "I'm so- I'm so sorry" i hiccuped as my head met the hardfloor beneath.

I deserved this, i knew it very well but i was too selfish to not beg for another chance, i was too selfish to wish i was the dead one instead. I was too selfish. I wondered if i could ever get rid of this guilt, maybe in another life i would get to beg for her forgiveness, maybe in another life i wouldn't be walking aimlessly on the roadside. Maybe in another life.

And maybe my wishes came true as a huge blow struck at my side, the car screeching to a stop as i laid down a few feet away, feeling the rain burn my unhealed wounds, i could feel the unconsciousness setting in as osamu screamed at me to wake up. "I deserve it." I mumbled, grabbing his hand to stop him as he looked down at me with tears.

The last thought that occupied his head was maybe he'll get to beg for her forgiveness, he knew it was too much to ask, but so was him getting the relief of death right after her.

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anonymityisfunwriter · 2 years ago

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The Bake Sale (Part 1)

The last thing Bucky expects to hear after days away on a grueling, exhausting mission as he rounds the corner into the kitchen are the sounds of complete and utter chaos.

The quiet hum of the oven, the consistent, pained thrum of an overworked mixer, pots and pans being shifted and clattering together, the smell of something burnt clinging to the warm air.

He sighs in resignation, knowing that he probably doesn't want to know.

No, he knows he doesn't want to know.

He's so sure that he doesn't want to know that he turns on his heels to walk away before the curiosity can lure him in. He only falters when he hears you and Sam childishly bickering back and forth, truly only like siblings would. He'd spent the better part of an hour looking for you in the Compound, normally, you're the first one to greet him after he's done debriefing, but today you were nowhere to be found.

And now that he thought about it, he hadn't heard from you all day. Not since your text the night before about potentially cancelling your date for tonight because he'd been gone for so long and you were worried he'd be exhausted.

And just like that, his curiosity gets the best of him.

"Stupid metric system," Sam loudly groans as Bucky pokes his head into the kitchen.

"What does the metric system have to do with you burning chocolate?" you retort, a humorous amount of irritation in your voice.

"How am I supposed to know what a double boiler is? Does it look like I've ever double boiled anything ever?!"

"It definitely doesn't mean you throw it in the microwave! Now we have to start over!"

"We're never going to finish if we start over. Can't we just use it like this?" he asks, trying to scrape the burned bits from the glass bowl.

"Do you hear yourself?" you chide. "We can't use that!"

You're faced away from the doorway when Bucky silently sidles in from behind you. You jolt at the surprise, but the second you feel his familiar touch you relax, your annoyed expression fading as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind you, he murmurs, "What are you doing? I've been looking for you."

"Hi," you hum, the irritation leaving your voice as you speak to Bucky.

"Hi," he greets, his voice a gruff whisper. "What're you doing?"

"Helping Peter for a bake sale."

"And where is the little menace?" he asks with a playful disdain in his voice.

You playfully slap his shoulder as he scans the disaster that makes it look like a bakery threw up on the kitchen island. "You need to let that go."

"No."

"Not that anyone's acknowledged me in the last five minutes, but I have to agree with Bucky," Sam interjects, throwing the kitchen rag down on the island. "I don't even know how I got roped into helping him."

"Anyway," you sigh, shaking your head and rolling your eyes as you ignore yet another one of Sam's sarcastic jabs at Peter. "Pete said he was going to talk to MJ."

"And then he ditched us to go 'patrol'," Sam adds, his voice just above disapproving mutter.

"He's a busy kid," you defend.

"If he's not here doing the work, why should we have to keep going? We're not the ones raising money."

"It doesn't matter, we promised we'd help so we're going to help," you state, pointing a spatula at Sam as a vague threat.

"Uh, I promised I'd help you, not Peter," Sam corrects, using his hand to lower the spatula.

"And you're helping me help Peter."

"You omitted that information!" Sam accuses.

"I - Yeah, okay I omitted," you reluctantly concede. "But it's too late, you promised."

"Have you guys been like this all day?" Bucky snickers, sliding onto the stool next to you.

"Pretty much," you both reply simultaneously, nodding in tandem.

"Hey, since you're here, you maybe want to help?" Sam pointedly asks Bucky.

"I would."

"But?" Sam urges.

"But I don't want to," Bucky finishes.

"You're a mean old man, you know that? Your boyfriend's a mean old man," Sam scolds, his glare shifting between you and Bucky.

You dismissively wave your hand at Sam, "He just got back, leave him alone."

"So you defend Bucky but not Sam," Sam mutters to himself.

"I heard that," you quip, looking down at the recipe you found online to figure out what step you were on. "Right, starting back over again. We've got everything measured. Now, mixing."

"On it."

You put the last dry ingredient into the large stand mixer, turning away to hand Sam the towel that's supposed to go on top of the mixer since he lost the plastic cover a few hours back. "Okay, just don't forget to put the towel-"

Just as you speak, Sam flicks on the mixer still only filled with dry ingredients, on the highest setting. Your head snaps up at the sound of a sharp exhale and Bucky's hearty laughter.

"Over the mixer," you finish, trying to hold in your laugh as a large puff of dry ingredients kicks up right in Sam's face.

You clap a hand over your mouth to contain your laugh, while Bucky doesn't hesitate before inserting a sarcastic comment, "Doing great there, Sam."

"Towel?" you offer, though in spite of your best efforts, a chuckle manages to escape your lips. "Sorry."

"This is the last time I ever help you," Sam rants. "I swear-"

"Okay, I've seen enough. Move over, Sam," Bucky says, standing up and shooing Sam away from his spot.

Sam grabs the towel from your hand, hastily wiping his face with a damp towel. "Has hell frozen over? Bucky's just offering to help me?"

"Do you want to go find out?" Bucky vaguely threatens, curling his metal hand into a fist.

"Oh good, I was worried you'd turned a new leaf," Sam says, dramatically wiping his forehead to feign relief.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm not offering to help you, I'm offering to help her," Bucky corrects, pointing his thumb at you.

"And I thank you for it," you smile, wiping down the new mess on the counter.

"Sure, help her, but not Sam," Sam scoffs, twiddling a whisk in between his fingers. "Like you could do any better."

"Better than you," Bucky retorts, snatching the whisk away from Sam. "Gimme that. You're not fit to hold the whisk."

"I thought you don't know how to cook?" Sam questions, taking off his apron and throwing it at Bucky before he rounds the island to sit in the seat Bucky was just occupying.

"I don't. But I do have basic life skills, unlike some people," Bucky pointedly remarks, glaring at Sam as he ties the apron around his waist.

"Still Bucky Barnes, wearing an apron, never thought I'd see the day. Wa-pow," Sam teases, flicking his wrist to imitate a whip.

Bucky scoffs at the smirk on Sam's face, "What the hell was that?"

"It's a whip...because you're whipped. Duh."

"I'm not whipped."

"You're whipped."

"Let me just run you through a hypothetical," Bucky interjects, moving all the dirty pots and pans scattered all along the counter into the sink. "You suck at baking. You take up my girlfriend's entire day. Said girlfriend spends no time with me because of your terrible life skills. Somehow, I lose, because of you."

"Hypothetically, you're an asshole," Sam retorts.

"Sticks and stones, Sam. Sticks and stones," Bucky smugly dismisses.

"Alright," you clap, abruptly interjecting before they can start bickering again. "Let's get started."

"Sounds simple enough," he murmurs, resting his chin on your shoulder as you walk him through the recipe. Then with a smug grin, he eyes Sam, "Kinda thing only an idiot could mess up."

And much to Sam's dismay, things start going a lot smoother. You gave up on any intricate dessert after your third failed batch with Sam this morning, so you settled for something simple: brownies.

And even more to Sam's dismay, Bucky's a pretty good assistant. Or at least, better than Sam.

Bucky carefully pours the last of the brownie mix into the greased pan, lightly sprinkling the chocolate chunks he cut up earlier - something that was his own suggested addition to the recipe you found online.

"You're actually pretty good at this," you comment, your arms crossed as you lean on the counter intently watching his impressive baking skills.

"Ah," he waves you off, finally sliding the last batch in the oven. "I really can't cook, but I picked up a few things from watching my Ma."

"It's very impressive," you praise. Then you whisper in his ear, "And attractive."

A hearty laugh bubbles of Bucky's mouth, "Noted."

Sam dramatically gags. "Still right here."

"Not for a lack of trying," Bucky quips.

"Asshole," Sam mouths to you over Bucky's shoulder.

You playfully roll your eyes, packing the rest of the brownies as they cool. And just as all the chaos of the day settles, FRIDAY announces Peter's return.

"Wow, guys! This looks great," Peter commends, walking back into the kitchen after changing back into his normal clothes. He marvels at the sight of all the plated pastries for him to take to school the next day. "Thank you so much!"

You dismissively wave him off. "It was nothing."

"Speak for yourself," Sam admonishes, turning back to Peter. "What are you even raising money for?"

"New equipment for the school lab," Peter replies.

With the way Sam's face drops, you put your hand on his shoulder to keep him in his seat. Just in case. "You're raising money for a school lab when Tony gives you almost complete access to his?"

"Well, the kids at my school don't know that. And besides, they'd know something was up if I was the only person that didn't help. And other kids use it too."

"So we did all of this for you to keep appearances?" Bucky huffs, throwing down his oven mitt.

"Uh," Peter stammers. "Kinda?"

"It's alright, Pete. With great power comes great responsibility, right?" you encourage, warmly smiling at him. Then your face drops as you think about what you just said. You turn to Sam and ask, "Where did I hear that from?"

"I don't know," Sam audibly wonders. "It sounds familiar though. You should write that down somewhere."

"I should!" you agree. "But I feel like I heard it from somewhere, I just can't figure it out... Oh well."

"Well, this was a waste of an afternoon," Bucky concurs.

You shrug, brushing off their negativity. "Well, I had fun."

Part 2

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Grumpy Sunshine Series Masterlist

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