#and a bit of soda pop fizzle | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

absolute-hooligan · 3 months ago

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only reblogging myself to say I updated the fic juuuuuuuust a little (like, 950ish words more) soooooooo ye! same ao3 link, so ill just slap the bonus below here too :)

Dinner last night was - to put it simply - downright delightful. Minus the initial stares from the diner’s regulars, Tad was welcomed into the joint with open arms. He’d say it was all because of his natural charisma, but having the collective support of the Pines family certainly helped his case.

When they got back to the shack, everyone began settling into their nightly routines. The kids started getting ready for bed, Ford retired to the basement for Ax only knows how long, and Stan parked himself in his chair to watch TV for a bit.

Tad - on most days - would flit about the Shack as a whole. He’d stop by the kids to say goodnight, see what Ford was up to - and maybe help if he could, then crash on Stan’s armrest to watch some trashy human television. However, with the whole being human thing, magically slipping in and out of human perception got much harder. He wasn’t used to having to glamor so much… him before! According to Ford, the more strain he put on this faux human body, the quicker this trial run would run out.

Despite the fact he much preferred - and likely always will - being in his true, square glory, he wasn’t ready to quit playing with this form. There were still so many human-adjacent activities he hadn't tried, getting food in a public space was just the tip of the iceberg!

…and he may want to get Stan as - if not more - flustered as he was when this first started - but that’s besides the point!

What was all this about again? Oh right, routine! Well, forget about that, cause now Tad was faced with a far more pressing issue.

His clothes weren’t real. If he tried to take them off, they would dissipate. He had no tangible, permanent clothing.

After discovering that the clothes he was wearing were essentially part of him, he decided to square- no, man up and ask Stan to borrow some of his.

The man stared at Tad for a moment or two before laughing. “If you wanted to steal my clothes, you coulda just done it!”

Tad rolled his eye, “Please, like I’d choose to wear anything of yours outside of necessity.”

Stan takes a sip of his soda, “Ya basically did earlier, y’know.”

“You don’t own the retired grandpa look, Stanley,” Tad scoffed. “You’re just mad I wear it better than you.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever makes ya happy, princess,” Stan said dismissively. “But really, what do you need my clothes for? You can just… I don’t know, make ‘em?”

Tad sighed - but to be fair, the fact that all the clothes he’s currently wearing are not actually clothes, and instead a weird facsimile of clothes *was hard to grasp.

“Okay, number one, you’re probably the only person in this house with clothes that could potentially fit me. And two…”

Tad began unbuttoning his shirt, much to Stan’s audible surprise. The other being swore he heard the human mutter “Jesus Christ” under his breath when he shucked off the shirt, but he chose to pocket that reaction for later. Right now, he had the offending article of clothing in his hand, and the second Stan stopped looking at his torso, Tad dropped the “shirt” to the floor.

The second it left Tad’s hand was the second it began to rapidly decay. It was like watching an ember pop before fizzling out into nothing. The only evidence it ever existed was the fact that Tad was now naked from the waist up.

“That happens if I try and take them off,” Tad continued, hoping Stan was still listening enough to connect the sentences.

Stan - Ax love him - looked like he was in heaven. He was soaking up everything. The neatly groomed chest hair, the “hits the gym, but never says no to a stack of pancake” body, and the criminally visible happy trail-

“Stanley?” Tad said questioningly. “You uh, you still with me, high roller?”

Stan shook his head before hurriedly throwing out “yep”s and “yeah”s like he was an auctioneer. After a moment or two, he cleared his throat, an seemingly regained the ability to speak coherently.

“I got your point, ya freak,” the human turned his face away, propping it up with one hand while the other vaguely waved towards Tad. “Just- take what fits, I don’t care!”

Tad studied the blush slowly gaining on Stan’s cheeks, and decided to really turn the tables on the guy.

He planted a hand on the armrest he’d normally occupy, and gently pulled Stan's face back towards him with the other. He delivered a soft kiss to the man’s forehead before swiftly making a break for it. Stan’s shocked sputtering made him stop in the doorway - much like what had happened to him only hours earlier.

“Thank ya, doll!” Tad threw Stan his most award winning smile before disappearing around the doorframe. If you ignored how he immediately lost his bravado the second the human wouldn’t hear or see him, you’d think he was the smoothest man shaped being in this reality! The only thing that kept his illusion from shattering completely were the assorted “Grunkle sounds” - as the kids described them - audible over the TV. Those disgruntled grumbles and indiscernible flustered noises were proof whatever game Tad was playing was paying off.

He’d get better, and Stan would too, upping the ante like they always do. Two professional con men attempting to schmooze each other shouldn’t work, but they do. They were playing a game of their own making, each move more bold than the rest. It started as a little prank, but that first day changed it all. This was a game, and the best part?

No one loses.

hi yes hello @void-dude's silly stan and square man adventures has me knawing on the walls, and i've written a silly (probably a little ooc) human(ish) tad fic in a fixation induced fuge state lmao. it's not beta'd, and only lightly edited (so far), so it's all a little subject to change, but hey! it's here! and it'll probably get more added to it tbh

i hope it brings y'all a little bit of joy :)

(ao3 link for anyone who wants to read it there: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59529469)

“T… tad… Tad! Grunkle Tad wake up!”

Wha… why’s everything sound like it’s underwater? Who was… wazat Mabel? Hehe, I like Mabel, real wildcard she is. Sounds kinda worried though…? Wait- MABEL?!

Tad shot upright, nearly bashing his head into Ford’s on the way. He looked around frantically for Mabel - who sounded pretty distraught while he was… why was he passed out? Not important- the kid he was looking for had just thrown herself into his arms.

“Mabes, sweetie, are you okay?” Tad asked, one hand coming to rest on her back, and the other reaching to cradle her face in a palm.

The poor girl was sniffling, eyes still watery from tearing up - her tears must’ve stopped before any could fall. “Grunkle Tad, we thought you died!”

Tad almost wants to laugh - death? Him? Don’t be ridiculous! - but the sincerity in her eyes stops him. Suddenly, Ford - who he’d forgotten was next to him the whole time - cleared his throat, gaining the attention of both him and Mabel.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright, Tad,” the man said, the genuine nature of it coming through his gaze more than tone. “And that you’re um… adjusting well.”

Tad quirked his brow at that- wait… wait that’s not right. That- two of them just moved. And wait a minute, his hands- holy carbuncle he has HUMAN HANDS-

Uh oh.

The last thing he heard before everything went fuzzy was Ford shouting his name.

By the second… okay, third time Tad had recovered from his fainting spell, he’d been relatively caught up with the situation:

Ford and Mabel - and himself, of course - went on a little mini adventure to collect some things in the secret bunker. Ford also apparently wanted to make sure that the shapeshifter was still frozen, and make sure that it wouldn’t ever be not frozen again. Mabel insisted she tag along - she’d defeated it before, after all - and with a wildly impressive “puppy dog eyes” maneuver, she got her way.

Tad, well, he came along for moral support - and backup, if things got real dire.

Long story very, very short, Tad found and touched something he shouldn’t have, and now he was stuck as a human for a few days. What was he going to do while he was trapped like this? Well, the only thing he ever found worth doing, messing with Stanley Pines.

As they were leaving the bunker, Tad made sure to clue Mabel in on the scheme - she was more than happy to help. Ford took little convincing - something about needing to be honest about the situation first and foremost - before Mabel’s eyes worked their magic a second time. It also probably helped that messing with one’s sibling was written into a brother's blood m, genius or no.

With the plan set, the three excitedly made their way back to the Shack, ready to prank the pants off of Grunkle Stan (Mabel’s words, not mine).

•••

It was a dry spell at the Shack, and everyone minus Soos was bored because of it. Dipper was frantically writing something in his own journal - a gift from Ford - and muttering to himself. Boring. Wendy was out today, her old man was taking her and her brothers camping again. Again, boring. And Soos? Eh, Soos was around somewhere, Soos-ing the place up as per usual.

Boring.

“We’re back!” Mabel shouted, smiling wide as can be as she flung the door open.

Stan, Dipper, and Ford cringed as the door slammed against the wall. “Ya don’t say…”

“What did you guys get?” Dipper said, hopping down from the barrel he’d been sitting on. “And where’s Great Uncle Tad?”

“Nothing important, Dipper,” Ford said, closing the door behind himself after Mabel skipped in. “Just some notes I thought I’d lost long ago.”

“And Grunkle Tad’s taking a nature walk!” Mabel grinned, “Said the bunker was too cramped, so he needs some outside time!”

Stan chose to ignore the pang of hurt that explanation brought. Instead, he tossed out a half hearted, “Hah! Wuss.”

If any of the other Pines present heard, they ignored him. Mabel was already debriefing about their adventure to a diligently writing Dipper, and Ford was shuffling through his coat pockets to find whatever he’d gone out for in the first place.

Domestic? Yes. Boring… also a little bit, yes.

Stan sighed, leaning an arm on the desk to prop up his chin, and his free hand coming up to drum against the well worn wood.

A few minutes - seconds? Who knows, he’s not countin! - pass before Stan hears the bell above the door chime. Snapping out of his staring spell, he quickly puts on the Mister Mystery act.

“Welcome, dear customer, to the Mystery Shack!” he’s all smiles and customer service before he even looks at who just walked in. “What can I do for you- Holy Moses…

If Stan had any brain function right now, he’d be embarrassed by how he’d whispered out the unplanned part of his spiel. But right now? Every neuron in his brain was either shut down or rapidly firing, because a beautiful man had just walked in. That’s beautiful with a capital B, folks!

The guy was tall - maybe a good three inches taller than him - broad shouldered, and judging by his face, was probably in his late fifties. His skin reminded Stan of the sand back in Jersey, with a squarish face and nose that he could tell fit the man without hearing him speak. And that hair- talk about a silver fox! The guy was rocking a relatively laid back pompadour, a couple of strands that refused to stay back dangling over his face. If Stan squinted, he could swear there were thin streaks of blue broken up into the gray, but maybe it was just the light? And call him crazy, but the dude hasn’t opened his left eye at all since he walked in.

Ah shit- how long has he been staring?

“Mystery Shack, eh? Seems like a scam, if ya ask me,” the man chuckled to himself - it sounded eerily familiar. “You run this joint?”

Stan - sensing a challenge - squared his shoulders back, hands now perched on his cane. “Maybe, who’s askin’?”

The guy smirked - and Stan was briefly distracted by how good it looked. “Just a curious tourist,” he drawled, leaning forward and placing his relatively large hands on the table. “Vagabond passing through, y’know?”

Stan swallowed, and prayed the guy didn’t see or hear it.

“Cat got your tongue, boss man?” the man tilted his head in question, but the amusement in his eye didn’t wane.

Stan was quick to wave his hand dismissively - knowing damn well he’d been caught. “As if! You just uh… remind me of someone, that’s all.”

Guy’s voice is almost too close. But it’s not him, it can’t be. There’s literally no way it could be!

The guy lifted one hand up, taking one finger to tilt Stan’s chin up to coax their eyes to meet. He smiled slowly, “Do I sound like your husband?”

What? What?

The guy- no, fucking Tad’s hand dropped back to the counter, a well suppressed fit of laughter now freely flowing.

“Yes! Oh man, I got you, got you!” he turned on his heels to grin at Mabel, who was bouncing on her heels. “Nice plan, Mabes!”

She preened at the praise before settling her hands on her hips, and nodding to herself. “My work here is done.”

Stan - absolutely fucking dumbfounded - just looked between Tad, and every other person in the room, but mainly Ford.

“What the fuck did you do to him?” Stan asked, not quite angry, but definitely not calm.

Ford immediately held his hands up, “I didn’t do anything! He did this to himself!”

Stan’s gaze flicked back to Tad, who smiled sheepishly in response. He sighed, long and weary, before straightening up, and taking a steadying breath.

“I’m gonna need everyone-” Stan jabbed a finger towards Tad, “not you- to get out of this room in about five seconds. One…”

Ford quickly ushered the children away, Mabel throwing double thumbs up, and Dipper sputtering syllables that desperately wanted to be questions. Once Stan heard the door to the actual house shut, he sighed again.

“Turn the sign on the door, wouldja?” he asked. “Blinds too, if ya don’t mind.”

Tad - suddenly losing any and all upper hand he might’ve had in this situation - did just that. What was he supposed to do? He… he didn’t know. But holy dungarees was this human heart thing hammering-

“Oi, square eye,” Stan said, much softer than he had any right to. “C’mere, I wanna get a good look at ya.”

Tad silently obliged, making his way over and around the desk Stan stood behind. He stood there, waiting for his next order - Stan simply leant his cane against the wall, and set his fez down on the desk.

His eyes ran over Tad appraisingly, and sweet grilled cheese, did all human bodies feel like this when someone looked at them? His hands were trembling at his sides, and he almost cringed at how his breath hitched when Stan met his eyes.

“You come up with this yourself?”

“Huh?”

“The body,” Stan said, “Threads too.”

“Oh! I uh- yeah, yeah I did,” Tad chuckled nervously. “Not too shabby for a first timer, eh?”

Tad saw something flash in Stan’s eye at the phrasing, but the human laughed all the same. “It looks nice. You look nice.”

He was dying. Stanley Pines was going to kill him with compliments and Tad couldn’t be happier about it.

“I was hoping you’d like it,” Tad admitted. “Made sure I looked more your dating range.”

Stan snorted at that. “I’d call that a low blow if you weren’t right.”

The two fell silent again, Stan looking over Tad while the other squirmed from the attention.

Stan wasn’t lying when he said Tad looked nice - his internal dialogue earlier made that very clear - but gosh, knowing it was Tad made it so much better. It’s like he’d modeled himself off the guys Stan privately appreciated in passing when he was young. There were clearly parts inspired by Dean or Presley, but it was all buried under the fact that this body was so uniquely Tad.

“I like to think I got the clothes pretty spot on,” Tad said, more to break the silence than anything else. “Tried to get as close to “random sleazy schmuck” as I could.”

A slightly unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt, and some khakis? Yep, that’s about right… wait-

“Are you makin’ fun of me?” Stan asked, holding back a laugh at the scandalized sound Tad made.

“What? No- I would never!” Tad huffed, his tone sarcastic as all get. “I’d never copy an outfit you’ve worn before, call it slutty to your face, then deny I ever said it.”

“Ya just did, bud.”

Tad’s face took on a confused look, ��Did what?”

The two stared at each other for about three seconds before cackling in chorus. Tad was - as he tended to be - less raucous than the human, letting him appreciate the genuine laughter he could bring out of Stan.

Sweet sarsaparilla, I’m so fucking gone for this man…

As their laughter peters out, Stan mimics the chin move Tad did minutes ago, only now he’s gently coaxing him to lean down. Tad oblibliges, pointedly ignoring that damn human heart trying to escape his rib cage - it’s not his fault they were nearly nose to nose!

Stan’s eyes dart to Tad’s mouth for a split second before flicking back to the other’s eye.

Suddenly, and without warning, Stanley Pines kisses Tad Strange’s cheek.

Tad feels his entire body lock up, and it’s suddenly too hot, but he also feels like if he looked at an ice cube it would melt instantly, but that has nothing to do with the fact he can’t move-

“Thought so,” Stan chuckles. “You blush blue like this.”

Tad just blinks, his jaw - metaphorically, of course - on the floor. He’s left bluescreening as Stan leaves the desk to rejoin the rest of his family. Tad follows the movement, still speechless.

The man stops in the doorway, turning his head to look over his shoulder.

“Gonna get Greasy’s for dinner,” he said casually, “Wanna come with?”

“I uh… yeah- yeah! Yeah, sounds fun!”

As embarrassing as his inability to speak was, the snort Stan gave in response to it almost made it okay.

“Then get your ass over here, big guy.”

#gravity falls #shapes and pines au #tad strange #stadley

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wallflowerimagines · 4 years ago

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Okay but what would be the dimitrescu’s reaction to their maiden giving them ✨ sparkled✨ blood lmfaooo. Get it? Like sparkled water? Sparkled blood okay I’ll go lol

...I like the way you think, sparkling blood, Let's goooo!

Alcina Dimitrescu

She was confused by the contraption that you had brought into the kitchen at first.

Castle Dimitrescu has an old fashioned kitchen with no electrical outlets, so you had made a long chain of extension cords originating from the far end of the hallway.

When Alcina saw it, she did a double take, then followed it into the kitchen. She found you giddily stuffing a very nice bottle of Sanguis Virginis into a Carbonation Machine.

It's a testament to how much she loves you that her reaction is simply to comb her fingers through your hair, tilt your head up to meet hers, and raise a single eyebrow.

You happily babble out an explanation of your "sparkling blood" idea, holding up the bottle of fizzling blood for her with a big smile

You're lucky you're so cute, that was one of the nicer vintages.

It's... Interesting? It reminds her of champagne, which is a drink she hasn't had in a while.

The carbonation is a little too strong for her, but she actually enjoys the concept quite a bit. The whole experiment makes her want to try and work out a way to recreate it in the winery. Maybe she could name the vintage after you?

Bela Dimitrescu

As with any new thing that you bring into the house from the outside world, Bela is all over it.

The shape is so weird! What is it? What do you do with it? Carbonate stuff? Why do humans want to do that to water?

Her questions are endless. She wants to know EVERYTHING.

You demonstrate how it works on a couple glasses of water, and even make some cola. She hovers over your shoulder the entire time, resting her chin right the the crook of your neck, and watching you with interest. Eventually, Bela decides she wants to try it with you.

While her body doesn't process soda or water, it does process blood....so....

You pour yourself a glass of fizzy water, and Bela gets a goblet of faintly bubbling blood. Cheers!

She destabilizes when she takes her first sip. It's so bubbly! Her Flies swirl into a jittering cloud and she drops the glass to the floor.

You're only worried for a split second, because she reforms with a big smile on her face. She likes it!

It does take a couple of tries (and several more dropped glasses) for her to drink some without her flies fluttering around, but eventually she gets the hang of it.

Cassandra Dimitrescu

Cassandra is intrigued by the weird contraption that you brought into the Castle.

It's different, and clearly a modern appliance, so she's faintly intrigued by it. When you explain that you want to make her some sparkling blood, she gets HYPED.

It's a new, different experience she gets to share with you! She loves that!

You pull out a bottle of a nicer vintage ( Cassandra deserves the best, in your opinion) and she wraps her arms around your waist and 'oohs' in delight when the machine starts to inject bubbles into the glass.

You pass it to her, curious to what she thinks of the concoction, and her curious face is so cute that you nearly squeal.

Cassandra eagerly knocks it back-- and then freezes.

You have to stop yourself from breaking down into uncontrollable laughter. She looks horrified. In fact, Cassandra's tried so hard not to swallow the fizzy blood that she gave herself chipmunk cheeks.

She haaaates it. Little bubbles are popping around in her mouth and through the blood, making a really awful texture that feels like it's cold but also boiling? 0/10, very bad mouth feelings.

She has to slowly let the fizzy blood dribble out of her mouth and back into the glass. That was the WORST.

You feel a little bad for laughing so hard, but your girlfriend is making a face like a cat caught in the rain, and it's both funny and adorable.

Daniela Dimitrescu

When you pull out the Carbonation Machine for the first time, Daniela is the one who suggests that you two try to carbonate blood.

Actually, before she knows what you're going to use it for, she wants to explode the bottle of CO2 and see what kind of damage it will do.

...As fun as that sounds, you just want to make some homemade soda.

Daniela boos you for being boring, but it's all in good fun. Instead, she pops herself on the counter next to you, swinging her legs back and forth while she watches you carbonate a glass of water.

The noise is so weird! Does it taste good? Like Bela, she has some questions of her own about why humans want to drink this kind of thing, but you answer them all. For you, there's all sorts of reasons, but you like the way the liquid pops and sparkles in the glass.

Daniela immediately wants to try it with blood. It sounds so fun!

She darts out of the room and comes back with a (fresh, dripping) glass of blood that you carbonate for her. She knocks it back like a shot---and beams. She LOVES it!

Daniela wants to stick the pointy carbonation rod into her next victim and see if she can get the blood bubbling at the source. CUT OUT THE MIDDLE MAN!

You have to stop her from stabbing the nearest maid with the carbonation rod.

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #re8 #resident evil village #resident evil #resident evil 8

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lunartearrose · 3 years ago

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Envisioning goggles finding tartar's barely living ai carcass instead of marina

He just smiles as it rambles like a madman - default expression all the way - and it asks why its plan, how its plan could have failed, how it lost to goggles of all idiots.

"Dunno. Maybe it's because i have friends. Maybe it's because i didn't kill thousands of people. Maybe it's because i didn't plan to kill thousands more - people with best friends, families, lives. Didn't your humans have all that?" Goggles says.

Tartar thinks - and maybe thinks for a moment he has made a grave error in calculations. Maybe. Regret or no, he needs a place out of weather. "Perhaps you can give me a closer look."

Goggles is still smiling. He leans over tartar a bit more.

"My friends mean the world to me. Headphones, bobble, specs, rider, hachi and the rest... and you wanted to kill all of them."

He puts a foot on the tartar box. It creaks slightly under pressure.

"You put hachi in the hospital. You put rider in the hospital. He can barely see right now, and the docs don't know if his sight will come back."

More pressure. The box is breaking more, crunching down like a soda can.

"Turf war means the world to him. You have no idea what you're talking about when you call it stupid. "

Gears and circuitry start to pop as tartar pleads for goggles to stop. That it'll do anything.

"Anything?" Goggles asked, and paused for a second.

Tartar stammers out, "riches. Turf prizes, anything, I'm sure it is acheivable with my resources-"

"How about a cure for sanitization? Bring back all the octarians you zombied." Goggles says.

"That's impossible- there must be something else you-"

Crack. Goggles brings his foot down hard on the box, breaking it open. Fizzling sanitizer ink leaks out, too weak to form any attacks, too weak to do anything but dry out in the sun.

"That's what I thought you'd say. Either way, i think you deserve to have your dreams crushed - just like theirs were. Okay?" Goggles grinned, dragging his foot in the dirt, smearing that sanitizer and sparking circuitry into the ground. His expression and tone remained sickeningly sweet - he refused to let this box get any joy from his pain.

And of course, just to be thorough, goggles grabs a nice big rock, and continues to kick around and gut tartar's machinery, taking his time crushing the villain to dust. He talked over the robotic screams.

"I don't care if you say it's impossible, either - I'm gonna look for a cure. It's not fair to them, to suffer for something you did. Maybe some sun will help! I mean, your sludge dries so quickly in the heat. Maybe I'll bring rai and hachi to the beach! Maybe marie's special charger ink could fix em. Anything’s possible."

And once the circuits are crushed, and slime is all dried, With no more sounds coming out of anything, Goggles picks up the empty phone box shell.

"As for you... you're the biggest idiot I've ever met, thinking I'd take a killing stranger home. I'm glad you're gone." Goggles said.

A ways away, he hears the call of the other agents, plus off the hook looking for him. He kicks some dirt and leaves over the remains, and trots over to give Marina the remains of the phone box.

"The heck were you doin' out here alone, anyway?" Pearl asked him.

"Just trying to feel better. This whole mission was really stressful..." goggles answered.

Marie glances between him and marina, who was studying bits of the box excitedly. "Did it help?" She asked.

Goggles shrugged. "A bit. But i think food will help better!"

Anyways just sayin' goggles should be allowed to have feelings and also vengeful bastard moments. He should be able to have a Shadow goggles moment or two, a bit of the true self exists in the false self etc. Etc.

#coroika #goggles kun #splatoon manga #goggles coroika #imagine #splatoon #splatoon2 #octo expansion #commander tartar #コロイカ #スプラトゥーン2

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afoolandathief · 3 years ago

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Last line tag

Tagged by @hottubraccoon. I'm, uh, still stuck on Chapter 6 of Something Wicked, but sort of the good news is I'll possibly share the entirety of it on here to try to work some things in it out once it's done.

Anyway, last thing I wrote was further continuation to that THHT spinoff. TWs for language, marijuana, food, and also the shock for anyone used to seeing adorable 11-year-old Jory now an 18-year-old stoner.

Tagging, if you'd like, @jezifster, @the-orangeauthor, @redylan and @albatris.

The sun was already well into the sky as they made their way across dewy grass to the edge of the backyard. His family had kept the trailer his mom had first hidden out in, dragging it along with them on each of their moves. It had slowly turned into a place for Fenrir to hide out when he needed to.

Tyr stared at the faded, rusted pop-up, his eyes falling to the droplet-coated spiderwebs over the ripped screens and hunks of crabgrass and chicory overtaking the wheels.

“This is the only place we can talk?” he asked.

“Yup,” Fenrir said, before dragging him inside and slamming the door behind them.

The dark interior of the trailer sunk heavily over them. Even Fenrir was having trouble adjusting his eyes to it.

“It’s so hot in here,” Tyr said. “And what’s that smell?”

Disoriented by the dark and the oppressing heat that had built up in the trailer, Fenrir moved his hands in front of him, unintentionally grabbing Tyr’s shirt.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to eat you,” Fenrir growled. “I just need to -”

“Bro!” a voice called out.

Fenrir managed to trace the voice to a red spark burning in the dark, before a flashlight beam suddenly hit him and Tyr.

“And you brought Tyr, too,” Jormungandr said. “Cool beans.”

His younger brother had somehow curled his massive, lanky frame onto the ledge seat at the rear of the trailer, balancing his Switch on his knees. Emptied soda bottles, chip bags and cans of sardines and tuna surrounded him on the floor, skeletal remains of the sea monster’s victims.

Jormungandr stretched an arm out to tap the joint out onto a plate before taking another hit of it, blowing the smoke above his head in a hazy cloud.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Fenrir asked.

“Uh, what’s it look like I’m doing?” his brother asked through half-lidded eyes. “Sorry, were you guys sneaking in here to do it or something? Because I don’t think I’m going to want to move for a while.”

“Jormungandr, you’re way too young to smoke weed,” Fenrir said. “Is this how you’ve been spending all your time? Getting high, stuffing your face and watching dumb shit on your Switch?”

“You sound like mom,” Jormungandr said. “Worse. You sound like Sigyn.”

Fenrir gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to let out the same tea-kettle shriek Sigyn had emitted this morning.

“By the way Tyr — I mean, Thorin — and I weren’t coming here to -”

“Dude, I know it’s Tyr,” Jormungandr said. “You don’t have to pretend in front of me. I thought you were seeing that one girl in Ironwood, though. Likes to take the form of a wolf? Iarnvidia or something?”

Fenrir bit the tip of his knuckle. His brother had surprised him over the years with some of the abilities he had, and that included being able to seamlessly travel through the seas between worlds. He had been the only one he had seen during his time in Jotunheimr, the only one he could talk to.

“That,” he began. “That sort of fizzled out.”

#tag game #last line tag #those horrid horrid things #that iarnvidia ref i found on like one website that i don't think is reputable but still #anyway the whole point is jory is a big snek #he likes hot dark places #and eating #and then sleeping or relaxing #just vibing

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kieshartzishere · 2 years ago

Note

*As Fluffy was stuck upon their own thoughts, they were mostly talking to themselves while trying to get the rest of the stardust off their own hands*

That's kind of why it's blue but— Fluffy? Are you good?

*The bite was taken right infront of their eyes that widened slightly, finding that as an unexpected turn of events.*

Ah... well then.

*—It was... odd? Well of course it was odd, it's a damn kidney from whatever planet the twins came from. The texture was like eating a bigger gummy bear almost if not for the fact it was less elastic than one.

The taste was a bit sweet, a bit salty at the same time. The organ was watery inside. It made it nearly like if you ate a melon with a pinch of salt on top. It's owner probably drank a shit ton of water for that to happen.

The real kicker was the fact it started to pop inside their mouth? Must be the acid they were talking about. It felt like pop candy in fizzling soda. I cannot believe I'm describing what eating a kidney is like). Whatever the acid was, it was a cool blue in color and dripped down on the hand of its holder.*

Y'know I just realised I never took at least one of your organs out for my collection

Huh.

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abused-sides · 4 years ago

Text

Way to Please

Read part one first, read on Ao3

Trigger warnings: Emotional abuse, gaslighting, being called selfish, ableism, familial abuse, panic attacks, touch-starved Logan, food mention

A/N: This is a commission! Another thanks to @darkle-elkrad!! :D More info at the end

Disclaimer: J. is NOT Janus, he’s an unsympathetic OC.

Read on Ao3

Logan pushed the knob on his fidget cube in slow circles. It was a simple toy, all black, and usually hidden in his pocket. He currently had it pressed between his thigh and the car door. His stomach was knotted and he stared out the window almost obsessively, counting every mile they got closer to his new school.

“You messing with that toy again?”

Logan looked at J. He shoved it in his pocket. “Sorry.”

“‘S fine. People are gonna make fun of you for being a baby, though.”

Logan’s face heated up. “I told you I won’t use it in front of other people.”

They pulled into the college’s parking lot. Logan’s small life was packed up neatly in the backseat. J. turned the car off and sighed.

“You sure you don’t need help moving in?” J. gave him a look. “You know how you can get.”

Logan nodded once. “I know. But I can control that. I can move in myself, don’t worry.”

hesitated, then sighed again. “Alright. Get out, then. Call me tonight.”

“Yeah. Love you.”

“Mhm.”

Logan stacked up his three boxes and started towards his dorm. Luckily, J. had taken a few weeks off his own education and brought Logan down for a tour last week, so he knew exactly where he was going. He managed all the way to his room and fumbled for the key card in his wallet.

He nearly dropped his boxes, and his heart leapt into his throat. He caught them just fine, but the panic remained, fizzling slowly like water down a stopped drain. His fingers itched for his cube. He ignored it, and got the door open just before the anxiety peaked.

One half of the room was already claimed, half unpacked suitcases sprawled over the bed and wardrobe, so Logan dumped his stuff on the second bed. He immediately righted the boxes and tossed some fallen items back inside. He glanced over his shoulder.

He was alone.

He shoved his hand in his pocket and found the side with the buttons, mashing them down before flipping it to switch. He click-click-clacked it a few times as the tension slipped from his chest.

He took a second to look around the room. His roommate’s life was coated in black and purple. Band tees stuck out of the half clothes drawer, notebook upon notebook littering his bed. He had a purple and black plaid quilt tossed over a gray weighted blanket. An expensive laptop sat freely on the desk.

“...oh, come on, you are such an asshole.” The door opened and closed, and a boy with purple hair came inside, holding a phone to his ear with his arms full of sodas and candy. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Fuck you, too. Sure. Later. Love you.”

Logan blinked.

The boy dumped his food on his bed and shoved his phone in his pocket. He raised an eyebrow. “Uh, hi.”

Logan nodded. “Was that a… girlfriend?”

“Nah, my brother.” He turned back to line his drinks on the shared desk. “I’m Virgil.”

“Logan.” He hesitated, then turned to his own bed, pulling out neatly rolled up clothes.

“I hope you don’t mind that I already picked my side.” Virgil grabbed another armful of clothes and went over to the wardrobe, punching down the fabric until he could layer more inside.

Logan couldn’t help but say, “You could fit more if you folded them.”

Virgil snorted. “There’s three other drawers. I’ll be fine.”

“Right.” His face flushed. “Sorry.”

Logan hung his clothes in the closet. They unpacked silently. Logan occasionally tapped his pocket, just to make sure his cube was still there.

Virgil sat at the edge of his bed and held out his hand. “Let me see your class schedule?”

Logan startled, then fumbled for his backpack. “Right— Uh, sorry, one second.”

He found it while Virgil watched with raised eyebrows. He handed it over. Virgil hummed, gray eyes trailing over the paper. He really was striking. He was loud in a way Logan never wanted to be, but Virgil didn’t seem upset by it. It was all clearly a choice, from the way he dressed to how he styled his hair. He lounged on his bed, taking up all the space without taking his combat boots off first, chewing on his nails— likely while the nail polish was chipped.

Nail polish. His middle fingers were painted black, the rest a strong purple. How did he have the confidence to wear nail polish? If Logan tried that, J. would make fun of him until he cried.

“We have some Gen-Eds together,” Virgil mused. “And an art class. How long have you been drawing?”

Logan swallowed and sat on his bed. It was clear Virgil wasn’t handing the schedule back any time soon. “Not long. I just picked it up last year, actually. It sounded, I don’t know, relaxing.”

Virgil grinned and glanced at him. “It’s frustrating, isn’t it?”

“It’s… hard. Harder than I expected.”

“Can I see?”

Logan hesitated. He reached for the box with his sketchbook, but Virgil held his hand up.

“It’s okay. No need to look so panicked.” He chuckled. “I’ll just look later. I was going to go look around campus, make sure I know where all my classes are. Wanna come with? We can check the Gen-Eds.”

Logan really didn’t want to— he knew where his classes were, and he planned on finding good spots for his stuff —but he nodded and stood. He glanced at Virgil’s bed, where he laid on top of all of his stuff. A few things crumpled and crunched as he rolled onto his feet.

“Cool.” He grabbed a Monster off the desk and popped it open. “Let’s go.”

Virgil wasn’t actually as loud as he looked. He had the confidence down, and he teased Logan quite a bit, but he was very… calm. Logan would never admit it out loud, but he was jealous. He could never be that sure of himself.

After finding their Gen-Eds, they agreed to stick together to find their other classes as well. Logan admitted to having already visited his— Virgil laughed —so they set off to find Virgil’s.

Once they got to the last class on the list, Virgil stopped. “Shit,” he whispered. “Oh, shit.”

Logan frowned. “What is it?”

The wind blew through Virgil’s bangs, revealing wide, anxiety-filled eyes. The courtyard was mostly empty, the occasional student passing by a couple dozen feet away.

“They put me in the wrong class.” Virgil pushed his hair back and drew in a shaky breath. “We agreed I’d be in the morning class, I— I can’t make this one, I don’t know— fuck.”

“Hey.” Logan took a small step closer. “Hey, it’s okay. We can just go talk to someone, right?”

Virgil shook his head quickly. His breathing was speeding up. “No, are you kidding? They’re probably so busy, this is stupid. I just— fuck, I’ll have to make it work.”

“Virgil, no.” Logan laughed weakly. “No, come on, we can fix this. Breathe, right?”

“‘Breathe—’ Right, fuck, I’m not… I’m not breathing.”

Logan held his hands out, and Virgil scrambled to take them. Logan held them tight. “Uh, just follow my breathing.”

Logan helped him right himself, a few tears slipping out from Virgil’s eyes, but he mostly got himself back together pretty fast.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Virgil gave Logan their schedules and pushed his sweaty palms down his pants. He wiped his face. “Sorry, that was… stupid.” He fiddled with the zipper on his hoodie.

“No, it wasn’t. I… uh, here.” Logan hesitated, then found his fidget cube and pressed it into Virgil’s hand.

Virgil looked at it in surprise. His fingers naturally found the side with the buttons, click-click-clicking. “Oh. Thanks. I had one of these last year but I lost it.”

Logan blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’ll give it back though, don’t worry.”

“Let’s go talk to the registrar. We can tell them your schedule is conflicting.”

Virgil stared at the cube. He flicked the dial a few times, listening to the light crank as it snapped back. “Are you sure?” He mumbled.

Logan forced a smile against his nerves. “Of course. Better to do it now then wait until it’s worse.”

“That’s true. Okay.” He laughed weakly and straightened his shirt out. “Right, you’re right. Sorry about this.”

“It’s fine,” Logan promised.

Logan walked with him down to the registrar's office and it ended up being an easy fix. Virgil walked out while rolling his eyes.

“I can’t believe that gave me a panic attack. Shit, I’ve had panic attacks over some dumb things, but… wow.”

Logan laughed. “It’s a… big day. Don’t worry about it. I, uh… I had a couple today, too.”

“Well, panic attacks make me hungry. Do you want to go grab something to eat?”

Logan nodded. “Sure.”

They stopped outside their dorm building. Virgil texted for a moment, then said, “I have a car we can borrow. Come on.”

They found a silver truck in the Junior’s parking lot. Virgil pulled the keys out of his pocket. “It’s my brother’s,” he said. “I’ve got a spare key.”

“Your brother sounds cool.” Logan climbed into the passenger side.

It was a very tall truck. His face heated up as he struggled a little to get inside.

“He’s an asshole,” Virgil laughed. “What do you want to eat?”

“Uh—” Logan’s mind blanked. “Um… I don’t— I don’t know, what do you want?”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Um… Okay, well, I know a Chinese place close by that’s good. We can grab one to bring back?”

Logan nodded and relaxed into his seat. “Yeah. That’s good.”

Virgil pulled out of the parking lot. They took their food to go, Logan managing to find a kosher option fairly easily, and ate while flipping through Netflix. They found a show they’d both been wanting to watch and got stuck on it easily. They ended up watching the entire first season, only stopping to break open Virgil’s collection of snacks.

Logan went to bed that night, later than he ever had, feeling better than he ever had.

xxx

“Hey, I’m going to see my brother. Want to come?”

Logan looked up from his homework in surprise. “Um… sure?”

Virgil had been acting weird lately. He invited him to go somewhere or do something every day. If Logan showed the slightest bit of hesitation, he backed off, but there he was again the next day. If Logan did hesitate, Virgil wouldn’t let him go back on it. Logan didn’t understand it.

He’d also started acting more nervous around Logan. Less sure of himself. Logan worried he did something. But if he did, there’s no way Virgil would want him to meet his brother, would he?

He settled his homework neatly back inside his binder and checked a few things off his planner before grabbing his phone and wallet. He followed Virgil outside, where the streetlights glowed warmly against the dark sky, and across the courtyard. The Junior dorm buildings looked identical to the Freshmen’s, only a bit bigger. Inside, their lobby was much more taken care of, and looked more like a gameroom than anything. Groups of students sat with decks of cards, at vending machines, at pool tables. Instead of heading up to the dorms, Virgil led Logan to a small group of kids settled in bean bag chairs.

A boy with striking similarities to Virgil— all angles and bones, the same gray eyes —sat with another boy, covered in freckles, settled in his lap.

“Hey, Jan. Hey, Patton.” Virgil placed a light hand on Logan’s shoulder. The touch burned through his shirt, and Logan nearly sucked in a breath. “This is Logan, he’s my roommate.”

“Wow, you’re getting along with your roommate?” Janus asked in surprise. “I guess I owe Patton ten bucks.”

“You do not!” Patton rolled his eyes with a smile. “We did not make a bet, Virgil. He’s doing his thing.”

“I know,” Virgil laughed.

He pulled the last free bean bag chair towards them and yanked Logan down with him. Their sides pressed together, the bag molding them against each other, Logan couldn’t breathe. He managed to settle himself on the edge of the chair. His side was cold as ice, his heart racing. Virgil gave him a weird look before shoving it off and looking back to Janus.

Logan thought briefly when the last time he had a hug was. Surely not that long ago, right? Parents hugged their children all the time. But he couldn’t quite recall. If he’d been hugged recently, would he still have the strong urge to reach out and feel Virgil’s hair? To take his hand and trace Virgil’s fingers? To feel Virgil’s palm against his face?

Logan’s face flushed. Stop acting creepy.

“What are we playing?” Virgil asked.

Virgil helped him through the card game. It became obvious towards the third round that Janus was cheating, mostly because Patton scolded him loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Wait, he’s been cheating?” Virgil threw his cards down dramatically. “You bitch!”

Janus laughed as Virgil kicked the cards at him. Logan tensed.

“Stop fighting!” Patton sighed, but he was smiling. Why was he smiling? He batted his eyelashes at Janus. “Baby, buy me a snack?”

Janus picked Patton up, stood, then tossed Patton into the bean bag chair. He squealed.

“Don’t use that voice on me.” Janus leaned down and kissed him softly. “Totally unfair.”

“Oh, is it?”

They mumbled together for a moment between kisses. Logan was certain his face had never been so red. Virgil picked up a card and flung it at them.

“Gross! I don’t want to see my brother make out with anyone!”

Janus snorted as he pulled away and found his wallet. “That’s just because you’ve never made out with anyone.”

Virgil’s ears turned red. “That’s not true! Gah!”

Janus left to the vending machine, and Patton relaxed into the chair with a wide grin. “So Logan, what are you studying?”

“Physics,” he mumbled. “Are you two okay?”

Virgil looked at him in surprise. “Me and Janus?”

Logan nodded.

“Uh, yeah? Why?”

“You guys were fighting?”

Patton giggled while Virgil raised an eyebrow. “We weren’t fighting, we were joking. You don’t have brothers?”

“No, I have one. He’s two years older than me.”

“Alright… what’s his name? Maybe Janus knows him.”

“He doesn’t go to this school.” Logan found his fidget cube in his pocket and rolled his thumb around the metal ball. “He’s at a college in our hometown.”

“You moved away for college?” Patton asked in surprise.

“What’s going on?” Janus dropped into Patton’s lap and pressed several packets of gummies into his palm with a kiss to his cheek.

“Logan went to college out of state to get away from his brother,” Virgil said.

Logan’s eyes widened. “That’s not true!”

Virgil bumped their shoulders together.

“If Virgil tried going to college out of state without a good reason, I’d kill him.” Janus pulled Patton closer. “Seriously. I’d be worried out of my mind.”

“You don’t…” Logan hated to confirm Virgil’s suspicion, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “you don’t need, like, a break?”

Everyone stared at him.

“No,” Janus said flatly. “No, I actually love my brother.”

“Gross,” Virgil mumbled, but his ears were red again.

“I love my brother,” Logan insisted.

“Oh, we don’t doubt that.”

“I just— I don’t know. You guys were fighting yesterday morning, too.”

Virgil stared at him in confusion, until it clicked. He laughed. “You mean when I was on the phone? Lo, he called me a coffee gremlin so I told him to fuck off. It wasn’t a fight. We were just messing with each other.”

Heat steadily climbed up Logan’s neck. He closed his hand around his cube until it hurt. He wanted to curl in on himself, escape the conversation, and never see any of them again.

“What the hell does your brother call you?” Janus asked.

“It’s not a big deal,” Logan said weakly. “We’re just— we’re not as close as you, I guess.”

“Logan, it’s okay,” Patton said softly, face pinched with worry. “You can talk about it. No one’s here to judge you, we’re not trying to force you to be grateful for your family or anything.”

Janus squeezed Patton’s shoulder. “Yeah, we know about shitty families, if that’s what this is.”

“And that’s the vibe I’m getting,” Virgil added. “The shit Janus calls me doesn’t bother me. I tell him if he says something fucked up. What does your brother do?”

“I— I don’t know, I don’t know.” Logan pushed his sweaty palms against his jeans. “He just… gets mad sometimes. You know?”

“No,” Virgil said flatly. “What does he do when he’s mad?”

“He just… gets mad.” Logan’s voice trembled. He didn’t know how to get out of this. He made a big deal out of it, something that so clearly wasn’t a big deal, and now he was just stuck. “I guess he, I don’t know, he calls me selfish sometimes.”

“Like when?” Patton asked. He’d leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees, brows knitted.

Logan stuttered through a few stories off the top of his head. He’d tried to tell them in a casual way, insist that it wasn’t a big deal and he was fine, but everyone was so… concerned. Virgil’s fists clenched around his hoodie, Janus’ eyes narrowed. Logan ducked his head. He was shaking.

He scrambled to his feet. “I’m sorry, I think I— I think I need to go.”

“Logan,” Virgil sighed. “We can stop talking about it, but come on. You can’t like the way he treats you.”

“Does it matter?”

Everyone paused. Logan pressed a hand to his forehead.

“No,” Janus’ voice dripped with sarcasm, “of course not. People can just do whatever they want to you with no consequences.” He waved his hand. “Who cares, right?”

Logan froze up. His muscles were pulled taut, eyes squeezed shut, his body wilting like a dead flower.

“Janus,” Patton scolded.

He sighed. “Sorry. Look, of course it matters. Come on, sit down. Everything is fine.”

Logan didn’t believe that. But he sat anyway. He answered their questions. He explained everything as honestly as he could.

Part of him wanted to defend J., to insist that it really wasn’t that bad and J. loved him. But Logan wasn’t sure if J. did love him. He’d heard how Virgil talked about Janus, and there wasn’t a doubt in Logan’s mind that J. would never talk about him that way. He’d seen how Janus looked at Virgil, sometimes angry but usually in a protective way. It wasn’t like anything Logan had seen from J.

Hearing them throw around the words ‘abusive,’ ‘manipulative,’ and even ‘gaslighting,’ was hard. Logan jammed the joystick on his fidget cube around so much he almost broke it, bouncing his leg up and down, eventually having to get up and pace. He kept waiting for the snapping, for everyone to tell him how annoying he was being and that he needed to sit and be quiet. They didn’t.

It was almost uncomfortable.

The conversation eventually moved— Logan was simultaneously relieved and disappointed —but everyone looked at him different after that. Before Virgil and Logan went back to their room, Patton offered a hug. Logan hesitated, and was about to step into Patton’s arms, when Virgil grabbed his shoulder— just long enough to make him pause.

“You don’t have to say yes,” he said flatly.

Patton’s eyes widened. “Oh, gosh! Right! Of course not. Sorry, Logan.”

Logan cleared his throat. “It’s okay.”

On the walk back, Virgil said, “We’re going to have to work on that.”

Logan shoved his hands in his pockets. With Fall kicking in full force, it was freezing outside at night, their breath coming out as fog.

“Work on what?” He mumbled. His body was heavy, eyes lidded.

“Your whole people pleaser bullshit. You don’t have to say yes to everything. It’s okay to not want to do something.”

Logan swallowed. He shrugged.

Virgil stepped in front of Logan and crossed his arms. “We need to set some boundaries, or else I can’t be friends with you. I’m not going to hurt you because you won’t communicate. I won’t be like J.” Virgil stared for a moment, eyes swiping over Logan’s face. His eyes softened. “I won’t be mad. You’re just going to have to trust me on that.”

“I don’t…” Logan’s heart thumped in his ears. He pressed his thumb against the buttons of his cube. “I don’t really… I don’t know how to handle being touched.”

Virgil’s eyebrows raised. “Oh? I mean, okay. So don’t touch you, then?”

“Maybe, just… I don’t know, not that often?” Logan bounced on the balls of his feet. The cold had wormed its way into his bones, and he felt like if he didn’t move he’d either go crazy or freeze to death.

“Come on, let’s get inside.” Virgil nodded towards the door.

They didn’t talk until they were settled into their beds and the lights were off.

“Thanks for telling me,” Virgil said. “I’ll talk to the others, too. You can always reach out if you want.”

Logan’s eyes watered. He was grateful for the dark. “Yeah,” he whispered.

“Goodnight, Lo.”

“Goodnight, Virgil.”

xxx

Virgil and Logan laid on their stomachs, on the floor. Notebooks and textbooks were spread out in front of them, covered in highlighter and pen.

It was a few months after Logan had confessed about J., and a few things were becoming apparent. 1) Virgil was not giving up on him. Neither were Janus or Patton.

2) J. probably, almost definitely, did not love Logan.

Every day it was becoming more and more clear.

Logan had never been treated the way Virgil and his friends treated him. Sometimes they argued, sometimes Logan was so frustrated and confused he wanted to cry, but they never made him feel like he wasn’t important. Every fight was important. And for the first time, he was able to move on from them. Even when things weren’t quite resolved, even when there was still more to talk about— that didn’t stop Virgil from inviting him out to dinner, from joining him to study, for putting on a bad horror movie.

“Alright,” Virgil sighed, pushing the textbook away and burying his face in his arms. His voice came out muffled, “if I look at American History anymore I’m going to die. What next?”

“Uh…” Logan cleared his throat and looked at their stack of remaining textbooks.

Semester finals were coming up in the next month and Logan was severely behind in Calculus.

“I don’t— I don’t know, what do you want to do next?”

Virgil picked his head up sluggishly. He blinked at Logan for a second, hair mussed, wrinkles under his eyes. He grabbed their stack of textbooks and dragged it closer.

He hummed as he looked through it, then pulled the Calculus and Economics textbooks. He shoved the others away. “Which one?”

“Um…”

“Come on, I’m good with either. Which one?”

Logan hesitated, then pushed away the Economics book.

“Cool.” Virgil flipped the textbook open. “Come on, I want to get this done.”

Logan flushed. He scrambled to find his notebook and flashcards, struggling to focus. A sturdy feeling of control settled over Logan’s bones, something he didn’t think he’d ever felt before.

xxx

“Almost ready to go?”

“Uh, yeah, just let me—”

Logan yanked the blanket down his bed, then pushed aside his pillow. He relaxed and snatched his fidget cube, shoving it in his pocket.

“Okay.” He straightened up. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

They left their dorm and headed downstairs. They’d planned to meet Janus and Patton in the parking lot so they could all go to this arcade nearby. Janus had jokingly (jokingly?) called it a double date.

“Yeah, there’s this zombie game you’d really like,” Virgil rambled as they stepped outside. He immediately tensed against the cold and stepped closer to Logan. Logan shuffled against him, their shared body heat negligible.

The parking lot appeared ahead and Logan stopped.

“Lo?” Virgil frowned. “What’s up?”

got out of his car and grinned as his eyes landed on Logan. He waved.

“Um…” Shit. “I— I don’t know, uh—”

“Logan!”

Virgil looked over his shoulder as J. headed towards them. His face darkened. “Is that J.?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey!” J. stopped in front of them and grinned. “Surprise. Come on, let’s go grab dinner. Who’s this?”

“Virgil.” Logan stepped closer. “My roommate, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. Well anyway, let’s go.”

“Actually,” Virgil said in annoyance, “we had plans. Maybe you can call ahead next time.”

quirked an eyebrow. Logan’s blood ran cold as J.’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll have to reschedule. He’s my little brother, I’m sure you can find someone else to drag along.”

Virgil scoffed and glanced back at Logan, then stopped. “You’re not really considering this, are you?”

Logan looked between them, helpless. He was terrified of upsetting either of them, but there was no way to please both of them.

“I— I don’t know. J., we had plans,” he said quietly.

“You can reschedule.” J. grabbed Logan’s arm and pulled him closer. “I haven’t seen you in forever, don’t be selfish.”

“You don’t have to do what he wants,” Virgil insisted. His eyes were on J., face scrunched in a glower.

“What’s up with you?” J. asked in frustration. “You’re acting like it’s a crime to take my little brother to dinner. Just lay off, will you?”

He stormed away, dragging Logan behind him. Virgil huffed. His footsteps echoed away.

Please don’t be mad.

Logan forced himself through dinner. The entire night crawled by, full of passive aggressive comments and insults Logan had forgotten how much he hated. He didn’t understand why J. came all the way down here just to ridicule him. Couldn’t he do that over text like he usually did? Didn’t he catch on to why Logan stopped answering?

After J. drove him back to campus, way after nightfall, he grabbed Logan’s arm before he could escape. “We need to talk.”

Logan shoved his hand in his pocket. He flicked the switch, over and over, click-click-click—

“Will you stop playing with that fuckin’ toy? I’m being serious.”

“It calms me down,” Logan mumbled, pulling his hand out. “Sorry.”

“I don’t like Virgil,” he said flatly. “I don’t like how he treats you and honestly he’s fucking rude. You’ve been pulling away. Mom and Dad haven’t heard from you in months. I haven’t heard from you in longer. That’s not fair to us just because you have this new friend.”

Logan stared. What the hell was he supposed to say? I like how Virgil treats me a whole fuckton more than you do. He couldn’t say that. Even if he wanted to, which he wasn’t sure he did.

“I’ll talk to him about it,” he lied.

“Talk to—” J. barked a laugh, “no, ask for a new roommate. I don’t want you talking to him at all anymore, okay?”

Logan swallowed. “He’s my best friend.”

“That’s a problem. He’s not good for you.”

He pulled on the door handle a few times. “Can I go? I get it, I’m sorry.”

“You clearly don’t get it. If you did—”

Logan pulled on the handle a few more times as J. droned on. His body was lighter, his head foggy. He could see himself tugging, tugging, could watch J. getting angrier and barely made out his mouth forming the words ‘stop with the fucking door.’

Then he was outside.

peeled out of the parking lot, tired squeaking over the pavement, and Logan hurried to his dorm.

Virgil paused the T.V. as Logan got inside. He panted, chest heaving. Did he run? He didn’t remember.

“Logan?” Virgil stood. “Hey, what’s going on? What’d he do? Did he say something?” He hurried over.

Logan stumbled through the story. Virgil’s glare deepened with each word, and every time Logan tried to make it better, Virgil just got angrier.

“Stop apologizing,” he snapped. “Come here, you need to sit down.”

He held out his hand, and Logan hesitated, before taking it. As Virgil led him to the bed, Logan focused on the texture— soft and cold. The pad of Virgil’s thumb was pressed against Logan’s palm. He craved more and he wanted to rip his hand away.

Virgil sat Logan down, then took his back back and knelt down. “Where’s your cube?”

Logan shook his head.

Virgil glared. “Did he take it?”

“No! I just— I don’t need it.”

“You clearly do. Come on, have I ever made fun of you for that?”

Logan hesitated, then fumbled to get it out. Click-click-click. Click-clack-click-click.

“Come on, follow my breathing. It’s okay. We’re going to figure this out. You don’t need him. It’s alright.”

Virgil slowly got Logan back in his body. His breathing became his again, and he was reminded of where he was. He gripped the covers, rubbing his fingers over the plush.

“I’m sorry,” he managed. He still panted a little, his head light.

“Sit here. I’m gonna grab some water.”

Virgil came back and sat next to him. He handed Logan the water, who gulped it down. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. Virgil took the glass back, their fingers brushing, and set it on the desk.

“I don’t think you should talk to him anymore.”

Logan flinched.

“I know. I know it’s confusing. It’s your decision. If you want to stay in contact with him for a little longer, I’m not going to hold that against you.”

Logan looked up in surprise. “What? But you want—”

“It’s not my life. I think he’s an asshole and I don’t think he deserves you, but I’m not going to make choices for you. Not these.”

Logan’s eyes watered. He looked away.

Virgil sighed. “You don’t have to do that. I won’t make fun of you.”

He buried his face in his hands as his body shook.

Virgil cleared his throat. “Usually when Patton cries, he wants hugs, I don’t… um… what do you need?”

“What?” Logan’s voice cracked, and Virgil repeated himself. “A blanket?”

Virgil reached around and pulled the blanket around Logan’s shoulders. He whispered “One second,” and rushed over to his bed. He dragged his weighted blanket over and settled that around Logan’s shoulders, too.

Logan got his tears out while Virgil refilled his water. He took it with clammy hands, wiping his nose. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“You should get some sleep.”

Logan nodded. He started to take off the weighted blanket, but Virgil held his hand up. “It’s alright. Keep it tonight.”

Logan hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t.”

He swallowed. “Thank you. I— thank you.”

Virgil smiled awkwardly. “Get some sleep.”

Logan settled into bed as Virgil turned the lights off. He brought the weighted blanket up to his nose, eyelids fluttering closed. It smelled like Virgil. It was warm.

Logan was safe.

xxx

Over the rest of the school year, Logan slowly worked at cutting off his parents and J. Virgil helped him, even through the hiccups. There was a moment Logan thought he could fix things, that he and J. could reconcile— then J. gaslit him and Logan almost switched colleges. Virgil made it clear what J. was doing, and Logan hadn’t spoken to J. since.

The two eventually agreed to get an apartment together after college. Logan got a part time job to keep his mind busy, and he barely had any free time between that and the studying, but he spent most of it with Virgil.

“And how satisfied were you with your roommate this year?” The registrar asked as Logan sat in the oversized armchair.

“Um, he was good. I liked my roommate.”

“Would you like to continue rooming with him next year?”

She barely finished speaking before Logan blurted out a ‘yes.’ She laughed and noted it down. Logan met Virgil outside afterwards, and they headed towards the Junior parking lot.

“You said yes to rooming next year, right?” Virgil asked.

Logan nodded. “Yeah. You?”

“Nah, didn’t feel like it.” He smiled. “‘Course I did. You can’t get rid of me.”

Logan laughed. “What do you want to eat?”

“I think I’m gonna force Janus to buy me a pizza.”

He wrinkled his nose.

Virgil snorted. “What, you don’t want pizza?”

“That pizzeria you like is disgusting.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Come on, we eat there too much. Can’t we get something else?”

Virgil pretended to think about it for a moment, before rolling his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. You can pick this time. I’ll tell Janus and Patton to deal with it.”

Logan grinned. They made it to the parking lot and piled into Janus’ truck. Logan told them what they were eating for dinner, and as Janus headed that way, Virgil nudged Logan with his elbow.

“I’m proud of you,” he murmured.

Patton had turned the radio on. Pop music blared through the speakers, but Logan could hear perfectly with Virgil’s mouth close to his ear. Not enough to touch. Just close.

Logan flushed. “For what?”

“You’ve come a long way this year.”

“But I still—”

“Shh. Not focusing on that right now. I’m proud of you.”

Logan’s stomach filled with butterflies. Virgil pulled away with a grin, then yelled something at Janus, who flicked him off.

Logan settled back with a smile.

reblogs > likes

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#logan sanders #sanders sides #analogical #virgil sanders #janus sanders #logan centric #logan #virgil #janus #hurt/comfort #angst #angst with a happy ending #fic

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quixotic-writer · 4 years ago

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Lustful Hunger

Request: for my darling @birdgirl1772 <3

Summary: You have never been satisfied with anything. Socially, romantically, physically, you name it. Q has always tried to prove himself, but you always pushed him away. At a wrap party however, you finally give him the chance to see if he can satisfy your cravings.

warning: smut ahead!

A/N: Haha! Suki is back in action! Thanks for being so patient guys, I have so many pieces, one shots, and chapters that will be released soon now that school has calmed down a bit ;)

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Another season wrapped up just like that and the after party was in full swing. Producers, camera men, comedy producers all had a drink of sorts in their hand as they all smiled and clamored over each other talking about the success of filming. Yet again, I was off alone on the side with a can of soda in hand unsatisfied once more with everything. Building such high standards for myself has proven to be far beyond damaging, conversations seem fruitless with others, friendships come and go like seasons, romantic relationships always seemed to fizzle like a match. I'm just…

“All by your lonesome again I see.” I turn and see Q taking a seat next to me with a can of beer in his hand and a smirk on his face. He readjusts the familiar hat atop his head and brushes stray hairs off to the side, “You’re a strange bird you know darling. You always seem so sociable one moment, and so distant the next.” I took a sip from my can and felt a cool draft graze my skin as he said the word ‘darling’ which caused the hairs on my arm to stand on end.

“Not feeling social I guess.”

“Not social? Or not satisfied?” My movements came to a halt and I felt my spine tense. He knew he had me trapped in the spider's web, open and exposed like a patient on a surgical table, I could see it in the way he smiled and the way his eyebrow flicked upwards. He tapped the side of his now empty can with the ring band on his middle finger, the sound was so quiet yet it seemed to overwhelm and intimidate me.

“And what makes you question something like that Quinn?” He lassod my interest, I turned my body to face him. It was my turn to pick at his brain just as he did with mine.

“They say the eyes are the window to the soul. You, my dear, rarely ever have a spark in your eyes. When you talk to others, I can see the gears turning in your head questioning whether the conversation is worth taking any further. You have judging, hungry eyes. Always searching for something better, perfection, but never being able to quite find what you’re looking for. You don’t have a consistent friend group at all, or friends for that matter it seems. And tell me if i’m overstepping, but lovers seem to come and go like the wind and I know it’s not them breaking it off.” He leans in a little closer and a sensation sends a fiery desire through my chest and a radiating pulse in my parietal lobe.

“What makes you so knowledgeable on my psychology? Sounds like someone’s a little too familiar with the scenario than he could be letting on.” I lean in just as he had, and before me were his deep brown eyes. I began recollecting all that I could on the man before me and began to see a pattern in the memories that I played in my head. “Tell me Quinn, could you be like me?” All he did was chuckle.

“Why do you think I love talking to you so much?” My smile fades and I grow slightly flustered. Everyone always made an effort to talk to me, but I guess out of all the guys and the crew, Q was the one I seemed to talk to the most. He always talked to me whenever he could. Whenever I made a judgement in my head and pushed people away, they usually would give up after two or maybe even three tries. Not Q, though. He seemed relentless and up for the challenge. He didn’t treat me like a prize to be won, he just kept talking to me in the most genuine matter as though his one true goal truly was just to get to know me. In return, I would do the same with him, and to my surprise got the same act thrown right back. It was like a taste of my own medicine and I never realized it, but I found myself subconsciously chasing Q just as he was chasing me. “Tell me, what does it take to satisfy a girl like you then?” He said it in a low tone, it seemed like a command to tell him rather than a question. I swallow hard, I haven’t had any alcohol tonight but he has me feeling as though i’ve had more than enough to drink.

“What’s it to you, Quinn?”

“A question isn’t an answer darling.” The way he dominated the conversation made my thoughts wander to what else he had in store for me tonight. The tension was thick between us, you could cut it with a knife. I bit my lip not knowing whether I should give him the fulfillment of all of my flesh driven desires. What did I have to lose?

“As far as friends go, I like honesty and depth. It’s not easy finding that when all people do is use you to get to the people you work with. So I keep my distance. My family and you guys are my friends, don’t need much beyond that.” I smile at him and look at all the crew members paying no mind to myself and Q. It felt as though this conversation should be kept away from nearby ears, so I planned to keep it that way. “Relationship wise, many boys have come and gone in my life as you can see. But that was the problem, they were boys, not men. Sure, they could grace me with a promising conversation, treat me with respect as anyone should, give me physical intimacy. I could give them the same because in a relationship it’s like teamwork, you build each other up in ways you can. But when I wanted more, I noticed more and more that they wouldn’t be able to satiate my needs. They grew selfish with their love, they only cared about their own satisfaction and happiness, so I would leave.” I played around with my empty soda can on the counter, tracing the rim of it with my fingertip and tapping on it with my nails as I spoke.

“Absolute man eater, left a string of broken hearts behind you.”

“You got quite the track record yourself. Don’t act so innocent.” A guilty and sinister smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Q was always seen with some new girl every so often. As soon as they popped into his life, they seemed to disappear just as fast like it never even happened.

“Guess I've had my fair share of rounds. Have an insatiable hunger myself that some just couldn’t quite appease. Broke a few hearts along the way and had mine broken a few times, but I pick myself up and keep moving forward.” He raises a can as a means to toast his own statement as he brings it to his mouth for a sip, tilting his head back to get each drop in. There was something in that action that made me salivate slightly, the way I caught a glimpse of his adams apple bouncing as he drank, the tendons in his neck so clearly visible. My eyes diverted over to his arm, his ‘quixotic’ tattoo just barely visible and half covered by the sleeve of his t-shirt, his bicep slightly flexed just enough to allow filthy visuals to flow in my head. He slams the can down onto the counter top and lets out a refreshed exhale past his lips.

“How hungry are you, Quinn?” Our chairs seemed like magnets, we kept getting closer to each other. I felt the passion ignite inside, a desire to challenge the willingness of the man that was sitting before me. Our faces were inches, no, centimeters away from each other as we began leaning in close to each other. I could smell the beer on his lips. I took a plunge into the pool of lava that coaxed me into the deep end. Our lips were connected, and he tasted like the stinging electricity of promise with the lingering aroma of alcohol. With an arrogant smile on his face and a look of passion in his eyes, I knew this was only the beginning. “Wanna ditch this party?”

“Only if you give me the pleasure of finally showing you what satisfaction feels like.” I didn’t need to say much else, we made our stealthy exit and decided on his place as our final destination. I couldn’t tell if he always drove as though he was in a terribly fired rush, or he just couldn’t wait any longer and I managed to flip a switch inside of him. I already felt myself grow wetter as the seconds passed, the unpredictability of Q left my imagination working over time to create an endless web of scenarios that could play out. He guided me through the front door and once he had the door closed behind him, he had me pinned against the wall and our mouths collided. Our lips moved in sync and I felt his tongue slowly protrude into my mouth, I willingly allowed its entrance and allowed my tongue to snake around his. My hand wandered to the zipper of his jeans, I rubbed an open palm against him and felt the bulge in his pants. Instinctively, his hips jerked into my hand and a moan exudes from him.

When he pulled away, I attached my lips to a new area of flesh. His neck. I sucked hickeys onto the skin as he slowly guided me to his bedroom, stumbling against walls humming at each new sensation that felt like an intense wave of pleasure. When we finally made it to the bed, I fell onto my back and sank into the soft cushion of the mattress, there he was with lust glazing his eyes and swollen lips in a devilish smile. I help him take his shirt off and I gently rub my hands against his now bare chest. His hand slips carefully up my shirt, cold fingertips dragging up the warm skin of my stomach as he smothers into the crook of my neck, my back arches up aching to feel more of him against me. All our clothes were discarded off to the side without a second thought until we were left in nothing but our underwear, his boxers were tented, and my panties were soaking wet.

“Brian. Please, touch me more.” I sat up against the pillows and he was between my thighs, leaving dark hickeys all over my abdomen. He pulled away and smiled with a darkness in his eyes.

“I want you to pleasure yourself for me.” My eyes open up and I look down to him confused. “I want to see what makes you feel good.” He repositions himself on the bed to lay right next to me. For his odd request, I was determined to put on a show just for him.

I look down at my bare body and trace my hands carefully along my thighs and let out a shaky sigh at the feeling. My hand dips into my panties and I drag my middle finger into my soaking wet folds and hum at the slow, trained movement. I bring my middle and ring fingers to my lips and generously coat them, tasting my own juices on them as I moan and bring them back down to my entrance and slowly push them in. My eyes close and I start off slowly, carefully sliding my fingers in and out of myself.

“Tell me what you’re thinking of darling. What in your filthy mind are you imagining that’s making you so wet?” His voice is low and his breath was hot against my ear. When he spoke, there was a baritone rumble that scratched against his throat in the most breathtaking way.

“Thinking of what you’d do to me if it wasn’t my fingers making me feel so good.” I gasp and take my lower lip between my teeth. I hear shakily breath next to me and he kisses along the side of my neck and I loll my head to the side to grant him more access.

“Are you thinking about what it’d feel like if it were my thick fingers pumping in and out of your soaking wet pussy. I can imagine already how you would tighten around them when I curl them just the right way and hit the spot that would force whimpers out of you.” As he spoke, I began to imagine it all. The way I know they would slip right into me because of how wet I was, I could feel how filling they would be and stretch me in ways my own dainty hands couldn’t. “You’re so fucking beautful like this, I can’t wait to see more.” My hands wander all over my skin that was igniting, I felt myself burning from the inside out as his words drew me in closer to my climax. “I can’t wait to just get a taste of you and have my tongue discovering each and every inch of you, fucking you with it until you release all over my face and I have nothing left to do but clean it up as you buck your hips as your climax fades away. I bet you taste as good as you look.” My fingers are working faster and my free hand finds its way down to my clit and I begin rubbing circles. My feet are planted onto the sheets of the bed as I feel my hips slowly begin to lift off the bed in desperation for more. “Then I can’t wait to just shove my throbbing cock into your tight little cunt, finally show you what a good fucking feels like, give to you pleasure no other man could ever get you to experience. Pure euphoria, and it will all be because of me.” I’m gasping and whimpering as I finally fall down into the pool of euphoria, a strangled moan frees itself from my throat as my hips buck into my hand.

“Holy shit…” I gasp as I finally come down from my high and open my eyes to see him sitting next to me with a satisfied look on his face. He grabs my face in his hands and kisses me rough and deep, I almost thought he was going to suck the soul out of me. He begins to trail down and down until he’s back between my legs and tugging at my panties. “Bri, what about you?” I say as I look at the painfully visible hard on in his underwear. He presses a finger to my lips and hushes me.

“No darling, tonight is all about you. Your pleasure is my pleasure.” He throws my underwear with all the other loose miscellaneous clothing articles and looks almost hypnotized by my bare core displayed before him. “Gorgeous,” was the last thing I heard from him before he planted a few kisses onto my clit, then he took his tongue and took a few long strokes from the bottom to the top very, very slowly.

“Oh fuck. More Brian. Please I want more!” I felt him smile against me as his tongue became more pointed, tracing all about my folds then sucking hard on my clit making me pulsate hard. His arms were wrapped around my thighs and pulling me in closer and tighter to his face. “God your mouth feels so fucking good on me Bri, you’re gonna make me cum again.” My eyes were rolled back into my head as I felt the heat building in my navel as Q focused in on my clit, lapping, sucking, and swirling his tongue all around it until I released all over his face. He finally pulled away, licking his lips, the scruff on his face was damp with my liquid ecstasy and it turned me on more.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum darling, the way your jaw hangs open, your pretty little whines, and watching your eyes roll back in your head is enough to make me almost blow in my boxers baby.” He crawls up to me and captures my lips, giving me just a subtle taste of myself. I finally unclasp my bra and it’s tossed aside just like everything else, it felt like a wave of relief. “Now, let’s get something inside of you sweetheart.” His fingers were now rubbing against my entrance and slowly he slid a thick finger into me.

“Oh shit.” I huff at the sensation. His fingers were without a doubt thicker than mine, and god did they feel so good. He watched each of my reactions carefulle, observing as my chest rose and fell with each movement of his hand. His head craned down and attached his lips to one of my nipples, swirling his tongue around it and taking my nipple between his teeth and gently biting it. “Oh my god Brian, you make me feel so fucking good, faster please, I need more.” My hips buck into his hand, he smiles and happily obliges and watches as his now slick fingers slip in and out of me at a faster rate.

“Baby, I can’t wait to fuck you until your legs are shaking and you can’t walk, can’t wait to feel your juices dripping down your thighs all because of me, can’t wait until I fuck you until you can’t speak anymore.” His lust filled words served only to push me further to another climax, being as sensitive as I was, it wasn’t all that hard. His fingers worked magically within me, hitting each spot that made my arch back and my lungs expel heated breaths of excitement. Words were slowly becoming hard to form as I was tipped over the edge without so much as a warning, only whines and moans were the only noise I could get out of me. As he helped me ride through another high, he roughly kisses me and grinds himself against my thigh, I smile against his lips and rub my hand against the tent in his boxers and feel a wet spot where the tip of his cock was. He groans and I see a wave of slight embarrassment wash over him as he sees that I know he came in his boxers.

“That’s so fucking hot Bri.” He lights up and smiles, I pull my lips close to his ear, “Now, I want to give you some relief. I want you to keep that promise and fuck me til’ i’m shaking.” I climb on top of him and grind my hips against his. His hands grab at my hips and his head falls back at the sensation.

“Your wish is my command, lovely.” He rustles through his night stand and grabs out a condom as I pull his boxers off his body and his erection springs to life outside of the confines of his underwear. He slips it on and lines himself up. I rub my entrance against the head of his cock and take my lip between my teeth in anticipation. “Sink down baby.” And I do. I slowly lower myself and feel as he stretches me wider and wider the deeper down I go. I feel tears forming in my eyes because this is all slowly becoming too much for me to handle, but I love it so much. “I can feel you dripping on my thighs already, you’re so wet, so tight, so perfect.” His hands smooth over the sides of my body and stop at my hips and give them a little squeeze. With a gasp, I begin to rise and fall atop of Q, feeling as he slips in and out of me in the most delicious way. My hands reach back to his thighs so I keep my balance as my hips work faster daring to reach another high.

“Q… Bri… Feels. So good… Fuck.” I gasp out as my eyes screw shut taking in the sensation of the sweat beading on my forehead and upper lip, the burning sensation in my thighs from cumming over and over, Q’s hands that keep wandering all over my naked body sending shockwaves through my nerves, and the feeling of his now slick cock inside of me. “I’m… So sensitive… Gonna…” My hips drop down as my legs begin to tremble as I cum once again, a strained whine being the only noise I feel capable of making. I feel my body begin to slow down and Q flips us over, laying me back on the bed and him hovering above me.

“One more time baby, just one more time. For me please.” He starts thrusting harshly into me, exuding a string of incoherent moans and whines as he sought to chase his own high. His hair was pressed against his forehead and face contorted in pleasure. Picturesque and beautiful. I had my hands placed on his shoulders and I felt as his muscles tensed with each groan. “Please baby girl i’m so close, look at what you do to me. I’m such a mess for you. God you feel so good. Just for me. All because of me. I’m gonna–” His rambles came to an end with a final thrust into me, it was enough to send me over the edge one last time and we both collapsed onto the bed, the cushioning of it cradling our now sore bodies. Heat radiated off of our skin, the steam of our body creating a sheen of sweat that coated both of us. My body felt spent beyond belief and it was a sensation I had never before experienced. Satisfaction. I look down and see him lying on top of me, head resting on my sternum, panting and smirking, neck and chest littered with an array of beautiful hickeys left by yours truly. I caught a glimpse of my own body and saw a similar display and couldn’t help but laugh.

“I think I can confidently say I have never experienced anything like that before.” I rake my fingers through his hair, pushing it off of his forehead and petting him like a sweet puppy. His fingers danced across my skin, giving me goosebumps.

“Would you say that your lustful thirst has been quenched my darling?” He asked in a hoarse voice. I hum in response with a smirk. “Good. It’s what you deserve… You know, I have never blown a load in my pants like that. Not since high school at least.” His eyes met mine and I felt my heart skip a beat in my chest.

“Guess tonight was just a night of firsts for us, huh?” We both laugh together and he leans up and captures my lips in a sweet kiss, but I push things a little further as I slip my tongue into his mouth. He quickly pulls away, cocks his eyebrow, and his lips curve into a smile.

“Are you trying to hint at something?”

“And what if I am? Can’t keep up Quinn?”

“At least take me to dinner first!” He says in an exaggerated tone and a hand against his chest.

“That can be arranged. I’d love that actually. For now, round two. It’s my turn to torment you though.” I say pumping his cock back to life with a devilish smirk.

“You’re on.”

#brian ''q'' quinn #brian quinn #q #Q x reader #smut #suki writes

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mysterioh · 5 years ago

Text

The Ignorant Beauty and The Beast of New York - Ch. 11

PAIRING: MOB!STEVE ROGERS X READER

Synopsis: Y/N is an exhausted bio major. Steve is danger with a capital DANGER. She thinks he’s a sarcastic prick with an impressive knowledge in art history. He thinks she’s cute even if she’s only running on one brain cell. All he wants is a single date, but she’s adamant upon denying.

Masterlist

A/N: just a short filler chap.

Like Peanut Butter and Jelly

"So you're a mobster now?" Quentin interrogated like a cop. A very judgemental and somewhat betrayed cop.

You look up from your book. "No, where did you get something stupid like that from?"

"You just said you're friends with that jerk!" He spat for the whole library to hear.

"Would you stop shouting we're in a library," you hissed.

"He's a fucking criminal," Quentin jeered.

"Listen he isn't so bad," you explained. You weren't defending him. You were just being honest. "He's kinda nice. He beat the crap out of this guy for me."

"Now you're making him kill for you?" He asked incredulously, "God, what's wrong with you?"

You rolled your eyes in aggravation. "I'm not doing anything like that!" You snapped. "He just so happened to be at work and helped me."

"Uh-huh, yeah," the brunette scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and slumping in his chair. "Ever thought he might've put that guy there to do that to you?"

"What are you talking about?" you squinted at him, leaning towards him and against the table, slightly peeved by his attitude.

"What if it was all planned?" Quentin suggested. "What if he did it so he could make you like him?"

You shook your head in denial. "He wouldn't do something like that. He's not that kinda guy." Okay, why am I sticking up for this guy?

"Oh and you know a lot about him for some reason," he taunted whilst shaking his hands back and forth.

You grumbled audibly, slamming your book shut. "If you're gonna be an asshole Quentin, I'll just leave."

His hands drop and so do his shoulders. The curve of his lips runs crooked and you can tell he feels sorry. It wasn't so hard to read him. He knew you inside and out, and you knew him outside and in.

"Sorry, I'm not trying to be," he sighed regretfully. "I'm just worried about you. This guy's bad news, Y/N," he warned.

"He's in the damn mob. Hell, he is the mob. He runs the entire New York crime syndicate for crying out loud!" He shakes his arms animatedly. "Extortion, racketeering, drugs, all the worst things you could possibly imagine probably has something to do with him," he drops his arms and you could see he's doesn't like any of this. "I just don't want you to get stuck in that kinda life."

You blush a tiny bit and sit back in your seat. You twirled a piece of hair around your finger, trying to avoid his eyes by looking at your book. "But he's never really talked to me about the mob stuff. Sometimes I think he doesn't even remember he's in the mob."

"That could be for now. You don't know the future. What if he does a total 180 when he's got you in real deep?" He asked.

"It's not like that." You replied. "We're just friends."

"Just friends?"

"Just friends," you stated firmly. "Besides weren't you the one who told me to make friends? To get out of my comfort zone?"

"Yeah, but I didn't tell you to get all smoochy-smoochy with a criminal," he counters.

"It was nothing like that!" you defended yourself. "You're such a jerk!" You crossed your arms and looked away with a pout.

He chuckled, finding your reaction really cute. "You sure there's nothing I can do to change your mind?" He asked one last time.

"No, there isn't," you shake your head, defiantly.

"You crushing on this guy or something?" He dropped.

A burning hue of red darkens your cheeks and your face tells more than words could ever say.

"Oh my god, you are!" He groaned loudly, almost teasingly, slightly obnoxious. He slapped his forehead with his hand and wove his fingers into his hair. He shook his head in disappointment. "Where did I go wrong?"

"S-shut up!" You stammered.

"She's in love with a mobster," he repeated to himself as if he didn't believe it the first time.

"Shut your face before I do it for you." You leaned over the table, pushing it slightly towards him in an attempt to intimidate him.

He points at you while laughing. "Look at you!" He roared, loud enough to earn them a few glares from everyone else. "You're blushing like crazy!"

"N-no I'm not!" You refuted, cheeks burning brighter than ever. Why did you even tell him in the first place? Oh right, he's your best friend. Your very stupid friend who laughed at the dumbest things. You kicked him from underneath the table. He winces in pain but doesn't dare stop laughing.

"Ow, you tryna kill me, mob woman?" He asked between fits of laughter.

"I hate you."

"Mrs. Y/N Rogers," he hums while thinking, "has a nice ring to it."

A vein in your forehead snaps and the next thing Quentin knows, he's kissing a really heavy textbook, and wondering what his post-mortem was going to look like.

Quentin Beck. Male. 22. A whole idiot.

Cause of death: Bludgeoned to death with a Campbell Biology textbook. (She thick as fuck).

"So I take it things went well?" Bucky asked with a smirk, sitting across Steve in his office.

"Better than well." Steve beamed. "Amazing. Fantastic. Superb. Had the best damn time of life," he exclaimed.

Sam rolled his eyes. "All she did was kiss you on the cheek," he deadpanned.

"It's a step in the right direction," he stated positively. No bad vibes in his neighborhood. "This is monumental. We're really going somewhere. I could see it in her eyes. They were sparkling. I mean they always do but like more than usual."

"Y'think she even wants anything to do with the mob?" Sam asked.

"I don't know, but I sure as hell won't stop now," he countered.

The days following his lovely talk with you by the bus stop only consisted of daydreams and giggles, scene by scene replays of his favorite parts. The way your eyes shined under a starless sky. The feel of your lips on his skin. The feel of your lips on his skin.

Though it was short and quick, you kissed him. That had to mean something right? Something really good? There's a lot he still needs to know about you. But from what he did know, he knew you wouldn't just kiss any guy. You're a tough shell to crack and it might take time for him to chisel through the stony layers surrounding your heart, but he was getting somewhere.

Steve wasn't complaining. He was excited and determined. If this is what it felt like with just a meager kiss, then how would it feel to hold your hand? To share those cozy moments you said you liked so much? To be the only one you'd share your warmest smiles and most passionate kisses with?

The thought of that alone had Steve riled up like a shaken soda can. Fizzling inside and ready to burst the minute someone popped him open. God, if only you knew what you did to him.

"She's a bit of a firecracker. I think she'd make a nice addition to the family." Sam smirked, knowing full well he was striking a chord in the man's heart.

Steve lets out a breathy chuckle. Shaking his head lightly, he thinks about it just for a second. "Yeah, she's great."

"Now to more serious matters," Bucky interjected, reminding them why they were in the first place. He pushes a file in front of him. Steve opens it to find a picture of a man along with some papers. "Guy by the name of Rumlow wants to talk to you."

Steve raised a brow while looking through. "Who's he?"

"They call him Bullseye. He never misses a shot. He's also a bigtime narcotics man," Sam replied, "Gotta big field all the way in Morocco."

"Says he wants to expand the business," Bucky continued. "He's working with the Lucchese family, Helped him buy a warehouse and fronts to get set up."

"We've already got guys like him," Steve dropped the folder back onto the desk.

"Yeah, but this guy's different." Bucky pointed out. "This stuff that he's got is top of the market. And if we don't get in on this action it's gonna be a major loss." He stated. "Maybe not now or tomorrow but in the next ten years. I mean who knows?"

Steve frowns slightly while scratching the side of his neck. "I don't know. I don't trust him," he said doubtfully."Sam?"

Sam shrugs. "It's all on you big man."

Steve huffs. "Fine, I wanna meeting with this guy," he gets up and pulls his jacket off his chair. "Sometime tomorrow. And before that, I want every piece of information you can get on him on my desk in the morning. Send Clint and Scott."

Steve put his coat on and slipped his phone in his pocket.

Bucky raised a brow. "Where ya going?"

"Out," he replied curtly, heading for the door. He opens the door and they already know where he's going. Steve pops his head back in. "Oh and tell 'em to take the kid with 'em. I don't pay him to sit around all day," he reminded them. "Teach the kid some ropes and make sure he doesn't get shot in the head for saying something stupid, alright?"

"He's a pain in the ass," Bucky deadpanned.

"Never said he wasn't," Steve retorted. "But I don't need his auntie on my bad side. So do me a favor and deal with it," he stated firmly.

"Easy for you to say," Sam jabbed. "You're not the one who's stuck listening to him yapping about Star Wars or some crap. Kid's a nerd," he grumbles.

Steve chuckles while leaving. "Leave him alone. He's a good kid," he contended. "Anyways, I'm off."

"Why are you here?" You deadpanned.

"You don't seem very happy to see me," Steve said, sitting on one of the barstools lining the granite counter with a mischievous grin splayed on his face.

"That's because I'm not," you said flatly, wiping down the counter.

"Ouch, that hurt me right here," he winced while clutching his heart.

"That was my intention," you remarked, unable to stop the smile creeping onto your face.

Steve notices it. He obviously did. Nothing ever went past those pretty blue eyes. He leans over the counter with his arms crossed on top.

"Doesn't seem like it," he teases.

You click your tongue and push his face out of yours. He chuckles and you couldn't help but let go of a chuckle or two.

"You're an idiot, Rogers," you remarked.

Steve props the side of his face with his hand, watching the way you move around the place, frolicking from one spot to another. He watched you like you had the stars in your hands and hung them up in the sky. Even in a dull all-black uniform and hair twisted in a loose bun with a few strands running rampant, there's a glow to you that has him warm on the inside. Your face was bare, only marked with an acne scar here and there and dark circles underneath your eyes due to a lack of sleep and yet, he thinks you're the prettiest thing in the world.

"What?" You asked puzzled and slightly embarrassed.

"Nothing," he smiled, a tint of pink spreading on his cheeks.

"Don't you have anything to do?" You asked. "Or is the mob all talk and no work?"

"I finished early," Steve replied with a chuckle. "So I thought I'd meet my favorite waitress."

"Oh, I'm so honored," you replied sarcastically earning a roll of the eyes from him. You leaned over the counter in front of him with a smirk. "And what have I done to earn a visit from the high and mighty kingpin?"

"Stole my heart," he murmurs.

"What?" You asked standing straight. I didn't hear that. Let's pretend I didn't hear that.

"N-nothing," he quickly replied.

You shake it off as a trick of the mind. "Well if you're here we might as well do something," you dug your hand into your pocket.

"Good idea!" He exclaimed.

"Here," you slammed a stack of cards with a rubber band twisted a few times around.

He furrowed his brows. "What the heck is this?"

"My flashcards. You're gonna help me study," you stated calmly.

Steve groans. "I thought we'd do something more heartfelt to get to know each other more."

"There's the door if you wanna leave," you deadpanned.

"Fine," Steve huffs. "Gimme that." He snatches the cards from you.

Slipping off the rubber band, he flips through the cards and picks a random one.

"Alright," he reads the flashcard. First, he squints then opens them wide in confusion. "I don't understand what this says. It's not even in English."

"Lemme see that," you took it from him.

"It says deoxyribonucleic acid."

"What the fuck is that?" He questioned, his nose scrunched in disgust.

"Its DNA, stupid head," you retorted, slightly annoyed.

"Then why didn't you just write that?"

"Cause I wanna practice spelling it, moron, and cut the sass before I end up kicking your ass to next Tuesday."

Steve smiled, feeling a streak of mischief. "Damn, sweetheart, you sound so pretty when you talk like that. Keep going." He cooed.

Your cheeks burn read. "D-don't say things like that! You're such a weirdo!" You stammered with an angry pout.

"Oh, my heart!" He exclaimed while clutching his chest. "You're making me see stars!”

"Shut up, you idiot!"

"Why don't you make me with those pretty lips of yours?" Unable to say anything you yank on his ear hard and he yelps. "Ouch, that hurts!"

"Fucking good!" You shouted still pulling on him.

Wanda watched from the small window of the kitchen with a smile. "They make a good match, don’t they?" She asked May. May chuckles while watching you pour out your rage on the poor mob man.

"Like peanut butter and jelly."

A/N: School starts next week for me so updates will get slow.

TAG LIST: @ashwarren32 @rootcrop @siriusement @savedbystark @little-dark-empress @great-goddess-of-sin @boxofteenageideas @imsonick @scuzmunkie @achishisha @calwitch @chuckennuggets1213 @captainchrisstan @thirstybunz @voltage-my2dlove

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #mob!steve #steve rogers #mobster!steve rogers #mobster steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers x you #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x y/n

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oraclememehacker · 4 years ago

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A Bad Concoction

Boredom had gripped Futaba hard and nothing was really helping her placate this at the moment. That was until she had an idea. It was a very bad idea but since she didn’t have anything else to do she decided why the hell not? Yolo, that was what she had decided. First she decided to grab a gallon sized container and then a bunch of soda from the kitchen area, it was all different flavors and some energy drinks. She was going to create the ultimate concoction or dye trying.

Having collected everything she went back to her room and sat everything down and was looking at it. Oh boy, this was a very bad decision wasn’t it? But at the same time she had everything collected already so it wasn’t like she could just back out of this now, without having to explain why she had collected about 7 types of soda and 3 types of energy drinks for no reason anyways. clapping her hands together she had a mad scientist look etched in her face now.

Popping the lid of the first soda she heard the fizzling of the carbonation and then immediately poured it into the container. So far so good. The next one would go in and it mixed together with the first drink. She kept doing this until everything was together and the gallon container was pretty much full of this awful awful concoction. It was time to mix it all together and take a look at her work. It had a very distinct smell to it since some of the sodas were vanilla or cherry flavors.

There was just this mix of flavors that really didn’t need to be together and she just stared at it realizing there really was no going back at this. There was enough sugar and caffeine in this to give even the most battle hardened person a sugar overdose. Yep, she was totally going to regret this. It was like what Rise said, this was the definition of a bad decision after all.

[Alibaba]: Welp, here goes nothing!

Futaba took a large drink of this concoction and was immediately just hit by an overwhelming amount of flavors and sensations on her tongue. These different flavors were not meant to be mixed together for any reason and she was realizing why. She did however decide to drink more of it because she wanted to experience it all.

[Alibaba]: ...It’s not as I thought it was going to be but... [Alibaba]: oh

Woops, it just felt like her soul was escaping from her body now. Drinking a bit more of it and that was going to be the death kneel for her. Her heart was racing a bit and she put that down on the table before pretty falling over onto her bed experiencing a bit too much of a sugar rush. She was going to be fine. Probably, maybe. It was probably a good thing that sick bay was notified that yet another individual was going to be stupid as fuck after all.

#Musing #silliness #v; shadows of the final day #The Oracle Navi (Futaba Sakura IC)#Short Stories (Drabbles)

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fablesrose · 5 years ago

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Of Kings and Shadows XII

Chapter XII

Description: Y/n, a girl who seems to have found her calling. Being a SHIELD agent is like a dream come true. With a friendship starting to form with the Avengers, she’s the Queen of the world! What could go wrong?

Pairings: Avengers x reader, Loki x reader (eventually)

Notes: On Wattpad –> Here

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

I always had hope that it would be more fun than the last time.

News flash: it wasn't.

Tony dragged me with them to the club. They said I needed to loosen up, and they needed a break. I agreed, but I already knew I wasn't going to be drinking. I've always been the self-proclaimed designated driver. Alcohol never appealed to me and I couldn't stand someone driving when they weren't supposed to.

We arrived together in one of Tony's cars and while we walked to the door, the boys surrounded me and Natasha. It was kinda fun feeling like I had my own security team. I could barely see through the wall of broad shoulders and biceps since that's about where my line of sight ended.

The bouncer made sure to check everyone's IDs... Except for Tony. He was upset, to say the least.

"Hey, Loki. Do you even have an ID?" The thought had only just occurred to me.

He raised a card at me, "Whoever said it had to be legal?" Right before my eyes, it fizzled out, disappearing in a flash of green.

I smirked, of course, he would pull something like that.

As we entered the club, the music was blaring, lights flashing, and the smell of sweat and alcohol was thick in the air. The room was packed, and before I knew it, my group was separated and out of sight.

I just wandered around for a bit, occasionally dancing when a song I knew came on the loud speakers. I was glad that I had worn pants instead of a dress. With so many people, it was easy to get uncomfortable, even more so with more skin showing like in a dress.

What would you do to seduce and murder that man across the room?

I had to freeze for a moment. The man in question I had never seen before, he had a man-bun on top with shaved sides and back. He was alone, drink in his hand. I noticed the worn denim jacket and started a plan to get close, maybe take him home, and then leave him dead in an ally way en route.

I quickly shook my head, Noxy, don't be like that.

Of course, she didn't answer, because she's me. Call me crazy for naming the intrusive voice in my head. I call myself that multiple times a day, but it helps me sort it all out.

I must have been tired because she kept at it. I got bumped so many times, I was sure I would wake up with bruises. I finally got fed up and Noxy spoke up.

Nobody would bump into you if you took a machine-gun to the whole joint.

I sighed. I took a moment to calm myself, drowning out the noise and the dark voice in my head. As I opened my eyes again I felt my gut twist noticeably.

Someone was staring.

Which honestly I shouldn't be surprised, who wouldn't stare at these hot curves? I decided to see who it was, turning slowly. My eyes locked with an average looking man across the room. He seemed familiar, but I couldn't place where. He smiled and waved at me with a look that said he knew me. I cautiously waved back, praying there wasn't someone behind me. He started to weave between people expertly towards me. I took a couple of steps towards him through the crowd but didn't make too much of an effort. When he got closer it finally clicked where I knew him from; I didn't fully recognize him with glasses on.

"It's Henry, right?" I asked once he was in front of me.

"Yeah, Henry Arnold." He paused and smiled, then decided to expound on it, "We met at the coffee shop, with Laime."

I smiled awkwardly, "Uh, yeah, I remember."

"That was interesting how not very many moments after I saw you in the crowd you just automatically saw me too. It was... It was like..."

"A sixth sense?"

He laughed, "Yeah I guess you could call it that."

"My friends say that too. Eyes in the back of my head I guess!"

I couldn't help but notice he smiled like he knew something I didn't which made me a little uneasy.

He continued the conversation, "So, still in the automotive department in the patent office? Or did they transfer you over to Laime's department."

I chuckled that he remembered, "Uh, no. I'm still at my old job. They figured I was the most help there. Thank you for asking."

"Well, that's good," he swirled the drink in his hand, "oh! I should get you a drink, what do you want?"

I quickly waved my hands, "No, no, no. I- I'm okay. Thank you though."

He tilted his head slightly and twisted to face me again, "Okay..."

What if you had a drink and someone spiked it with roofies or something.

Noxy, that's why I'm not getting one from him and why I'll be careful if I do get one.

"Well, I had better go and find my friends," I turned away from him toward the bar, "It was nice to see you."

"You too, Y/n. You look like a queen by the way."

If only I knew.

I turned to flash a smile at him before carrying on my course.

I fought through the crowd to the calmer area closer to the bar. I looked around to find Natasha and Clint signing at each other at the bar. I approached to see Clint didn't have his hearing aids in. I didn't blame him since it was so loud it wasn't worth the headache if you couldn't hear what people were saying anyway.

"Oh hey, Y/n, we got separated. Are you having fun?" Natasha offered me a seat at the bar next to her.

I took the seat, "Uh, not as much as I would have hoped, but I'm not having a horrible time." I had made sure Clint could see my lips so he could be part of the conversation.

They both nodded, "That's how it is, especially with Tony."

Clint started to sign, looking at me, but I didn't catch on quick enough to understand. He stopped and signed slower for me to read, [Drink?]

I fumbled with my hands, but I was learning. [no dd]

Clint rolled his eyes teasingly at me. I could nearly hear him saying, 'you're no fun.'

Natasha took a swig of her liquor as Clint gulped his beer. It was fun to see them act so similarly. They were so in sync on and off the field.

"You should stay hydrated though. It's hot in here" Nat nodded at the bartender. "Get something non-alcoholic, water, a virgin something, coke. He probably has everything back there."

I thought it over for a minute, "Maybe a bit later."

We chatted for a couple more minutes before Tony sauntered over to us, he looked a little tipsy, but you could only tell if you knew him. He had way too much experience in hiding it.

"So we finally got everyone gathered up in a booth if you want to chat, have some fun." He pointed toward a corner booth with the rest of the team chatting together, drinks in their hands.

This might be trouble getting them home.

"Yeah sure" Nat and Clint stood up.

"Just a sec, I'm gonna grab something to drink before I head over." They nodded and walked with Tony to the group.

I waved the barman over, "Hey do you have any ginger ale back there?"

He nodded, "You want a mixed drink with it?"

"No, no alcohol," he nodded and walked to where he had it stored, "put it in one of your fancy glasses would ya?"

He smiled and nodded again.

I watched him like a hawk. He opened the can and poured it into a glass, grabbing an umbrella and popping it in as well. I didn't notice any sleight of hand which I was hoping I was as good at noticing as I thought. Every girl has heard too many horror stories.

I took it with a thank you and a smile and headed towards my friends. I kept one eye on my soda and the other on where I was going. I finally fought my way through the crowd without spilling my glass. I slid into the booth squeezing into the end next to Nat.

"Okay Y/n, you're the last one here, you have to ask the first question." Tony leaned around the others to see me.

I blinked at him, "What?"

"You know, like get-to-know-you questions. What's your favorite carpet or something."

Everyone laughed at the bizarre example.

I thought for a moment, "Okay, okay... Uh... I guess if you could have any superpower other than your own, what would it be?"

"OOoooohh that's a good one."

"I have to actually think for this one..."

"I actually, already know what I would want," Bruce swirled his water hesitantly.

"Do tell."

"Immutability."

There was a moment where everyone wrapped their tipsy heads around it before they all commented nice things.

"That's cool!"

"Interesting choice."

"Never would have thought about that."

Tony took a big gulp of his drink and slammed his glass onto the table, "Okay, I'll go next. If I had to have another superpower, I would be invulnerable. BECAUSE!" He said to not allow anyone to interrupt him. "While my mind is nothing short of spectacular, it is not considered a superpower, SO I can still blow shit up in my suit while not being banged around getting migraines every day."

Clint spoke up first, well tapped his fingers on the table purposefully and signed, [That was way too thought out.]

Tony just shrugged, tapped his temple and waved a waitress over to get a refill.

Nat nudged him, "Well I think that means you're next. What would you do arrow boy?"

[Easy, invisibility. Don't see anyone? Good! Arrow there! Arrow there! Dead everywhere! Perfect assassin...]

Natasha was translating mostly for me as he got excited and signed extra fast. She also quipped, "No, you just want it so you can steal food whenever you want."

Clint's hands twitched for a response, but couldn't find one except for a sheepish smile. After a couple of elbows to the ribs, he pointed at Nat for her to answer. I guess I don't know much about deaf people, but it seemed like if he was drunk he relied more on signing than talking, especially without his hearing aids even though I knew he could talk just fine. I don't know how I would deal without being able to hear my friends' voices, or listen to my music. I know hearing aids help and all the tech is improving, but it's such a big part of my life, it would scare me. Clint honestly just amazes me, I'm so glad I got to befriend him.

Nat rolled her eyes at his insistence, "I always thought night vision was cool." She signed as she was talking and I tried to use it as practice.

Everyone nodded their heads, seeing the usefulness of that power.

Nat looked around the circle, trying to decide who would go next, "Steve, you go."

He nervously twisted a strange-looking jug that matched Thor's and Loki's, "I haven't really thought about it..."

Tony spoke up, "I call bull Steve."

Clint mirrored the statement with his hands.

"Come on Steve! What would you desire to have?" Thor reached over Bruce and Loki to punch Steve's shoulder.

"Fine, Fine! I would take telekinesis? That's that thing where you move stuff with your mind right?"

I confirmed his question was right.

"Loki next!"

He rolled his eyes, "I... " He looked at everyone with a look that said he didn't understand why we were doing this, "with much the same reasoning as Stark, would have omniscience because if I knew everything, I would also know how to use my magic with the added benefit of everything else." He smiled with a spark in his eyes that told everyone to beware if he got that superpower.

[That would suck if you had omnish-- omni-- that.] Everyone chuckled at Clint's struggle to spell the word. He even watched Nat sign it for him since it was a difficult word to lip read.

"Thor's next!"

He leaned back and rested his arms along the top of the booth behind Tony on one side, Bruce and Loki on the other side, he looked relaxed. "I always thought being able to fly and controlling the weather would be fun," he started nonchalantly, but by the end of his answer, he had a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Oh, come on!"

"Thor, that's lame!"

There were a couple of groans that accompanied it.

He didn't give any other answers, so everyone looked around the table. I took a sip of my ginger ale, finding pleasure in swirling my tiny umbrella.

"We haven't heard from you, Y/n."

I looked up to see raised eyebrows and I felt my face heat up a little. I looked back down at my little tropical umbrella before answering, "Well, I read once about this concept... The ability to manipulate probability."

Most looked puzzled, while Tony was squinting his eyes in thought, so I hurried to elaborate, getting a little more confident since it was such a cool concept, "well, what's the probability of that chair over there," I pointed at an empty table and chairs, "getting up and walking out of here of its own free will?"

They looked even more puzzled.

"Next to zero. Bam," I waved my finger at it, "one hundred percent. What's the chance of me becoming a gorgeous mermaid right now?"

"Zero."

I squinted at Tony, "I don't know if I should be offended right now..."

He shrunk back with a sheepish smile.

"Anyway, bam! One hundred percent." I looked around the group, them starting to catch on. "What's the chance of Loki falling in love with a low life mortal? Next to zero. Bam! Eighty-five percent."

"Why not one hundred?"

I let out an amused huff at what I was about to say, "well, for one, I think he would be too stubborn for me to do that."

They roared with laughter, Loki did not look amused.

"And for two, that would be really cruel..." I paused getting my thoughts together, "What if those Odinsleep things happen more often than not? Weeks after the wedding, he feels one coming on, takes a long nap, and when he wakes? He has a child running around the house, the next time, the kid is graduating college. Next thing Loki knows, grandkids are knocking on his door. He goes to sleep next to his finely aged spouse, and when he wakes the next morning, the bed is empty, so he assumes they're running errands since he woke up late. They don't come home and he's informed they've been buried three miles away for a while..." I looked at the now solemn faces, "that would hurt..."

I smiled, "besides, I would make him fall in love with some bookish warrior from one of the other eight realms or whatever." I bobbed my head side to side as I said, "someone to keep him on his toes."

Clint tapped me to look at him, [someone like you?]

I waved my hand at him before attempting to sign while talking, "No, what'd I say? It's cruel."

Nat nudged me, "I didn't hear any other complaints!"

I shrugged easily, "Well yeah, I mean, he's a decent guy, he hasn't tried to kill me yet..." I deadpanned, "Oh wait."

"OOOOOHHHHH"

"That's a burn!!"

Someone was hissing like a sizzling pan, it was fun. I made sure to smile teasingly at Loki to make sure he knew I meant no hard feelings.

He gave me a nod that said, "That's fair."

We continued to ask questions to each other, some weird stuff like what's your favorite semi-aquatic plant?

Or Bruce went basic with favorite colors.

I kept drinking ginger ale and everyone else, except Loki, got slowly more drunk as the night went on. Bruce didn't have much, but he's a lightweight, sipped water throughout the night and was still pretty wasted. Natasha seemed fine, but the way her eyes darted around and she started talking cryptically told me she was under the influence more than she would admit.

"Uh, Loki?"

He looked at me.

"I thought Thor and Steve couldn't get drunk? And why are you not if they are?"

He raised his jug-like thing, "Asgardian mead and ale, I'm being careful. Hate for you to haul them all back by yourself."

I raised an eyebrow, "Or are you just saving yourself the hangover?"

He chuckled, "I don't get hangovers, but yes my motives are more selfish."

I shook my head dismissively, not really caring as long as he would help. "Alright, I think it's time to go." I looked at the time and sighed, "I'm glad I don't have work this morning."

Loki grabbed Steve, Thor, and Tony while I rounded up Bruce, Clint, and Natasha.

"Okay, Bruce? I'm going to have you grab onto my belt loop right here okay?" I hooked his fingers into the loop on my hip, making sure he didn't get separated from us. I had to keep my focus on Nat and Clint so they didn't wander off. I held their hands and made sure there was an occasional tug on my pants so I had all three of them. Clint kept trying to talk with Natasha and rip his hand from mine, but I wouldn't have it until they were all sitting in the back seats of the car.

"I'm fine, I'm not drunk." Tony was waving Loki away once he got outside next to the car.

I sighed and walked over, knowing full well that he was drunk. "Thanks, Loki, I've got him."

Loke went to stick Thor and Steve into the van and left me with Tony.

"Okay Tony, where are the keys?"

"I'm driving"

"Fine," I decided to pull a foolproof trick on him. He still had a glass in his hand, this is essential, "Up high Tony." He willingly gave me a high five. "Okay, you hit it right on, so go drive us home."

He nodded seemingly sound logic. He pulled out the keys from his pocket.

"Tony, you've got to do the down low."

He fell for it, swinging his hand down to give me a low five, but I swiped the keys from his hand.

"Too slow, go get into the back."

"Hey!"

I ushered him towards Loki before he could try and take the keys back. I got into the driver's seat sighing when it was nearly a brawl in the back, Steve and Bruce half asleep, almost crying. Loki got into the passenger seat next to me, looking equally as tired.

"Let's get these guys home Your Highness."

He leaned back against the headrest, eyes closed as I put the van in gear. "It's Loki."

"'ight"

We got to the compound and guided the ones semi-conscious to the common room. The rest we hauled up, leaving the car in the driveway. I made sure they had a glass of water before they passed out, the ones I could get to take it anyway. I made sure they were mostly comfortable but didn't put a bunch of effort into it.

"I'm going to bed Loki, see you in the afternoon."

He chuckled as he set off for his own room, "Good night Y/n."

I headed to the guest bedroom they set aside for me when I spent the night. I had it stocked with a pair of old pajamas and three or four spare changes of clothes. They were pretty grungy since I wouldn't miss them, and I could just go back to my apartment to change if I needed the next morning.

As soon as I changed into the soft with age PJs I collapsed onto the bed, glad the night didn't end up as a worst-case scenario.

Tag List:

@nightrose64

#loki #loki x reader #loki fanfic #Avengers #avengersfanfiction #avengers x reader #clint barton #natasha #Steve Rogers #bruce banner #tony stark #thor #club #superpowers #drunk #Of Kings and Shadows #chapter 12

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quentinxdelancret · 4 years ago

Text

Discord Text Thread || Quentin & Dorian

Discord thread featuring: Quentin and Dorian

When: September 23rd

Mentions: Khai

Description:Quentin texts Dorian after their studio session and they get to know one another a little better. Quentin asks Dorian out on a date.

Trigger Warning: Hardcore flirting.

Quentin. We should hang out again soon. It was a lot of fun

DORIAN Yeah, I agree. I’d love to.

Quentin. Great! Because I would love to know more about you.

DORIAN Well, we could start now if you want.

Quentin. Absolutely!

DORIAN Ask me anything.

Quentin. Anything... let’s see. Do you like fizzle pop?

DORIAN Fizzle pop? Do you mean soda?

Quentin. Haha yeah. Sorry

DORIAN No worries lol. Just wanted to make sure we were talking about the same thing. Not really. I’ll only have soda every now and then. That leads me to my first question for you though. Where are you from?

Quentin. Fair enough. I probably drink it way more than I should. But, it’s really good with ice cream. I’m from Chamonix, France.. But, I moved to California was I was like seven I wanna say. I grew up in San Francisco and you?

DORIAN I’m more of a tea and juice drinker personally. Oh that’s dope! I’m from San Francisco too! I only moved to Kingsboro when I was 18.

Quentin. Oh shit! I can’t believe I’ve never run into you before. I used to spend a lot of time out at MEZZANINE’s and Bimbo’s. But back then I usually needed a fake to get in lmao. I love tea.. we should totally drink tea together sometime

DORIAN Well, I’m gonna guess that I’m older than you so lol. Yeah, we should.

Quentin. How old are you

DORIAN I just turned 29 in August.

Quentin. Ah, hot. I’m only older men. Wow yeah. Hahah what I meant to say was. I’m into them

DORIAN lmao that’s okay. I got the idea. How old are you?

Quentin. I’ll be 25 in December

DORIAN oh yeah, so you were only like 14 when I left Cali lol.

Quentin. hahaha this just keeps getting better. I feel like I totally would have stalked you

DORIAN You were entering high school when I graduated lol.

Quentin. Yeah, I was actually home schooled though. It was easier on my “parents” that way. Did you have a band then?

DORIAN Oh, homeschool? That’s interesting. Nah, I didn’t start my band until after I moved to NY. We started it when I was like 21.

Quentin. Yeah, not as much fun as it sounds though, I promise lol. Oh, sweet! Definitely probably wouldn’t have stalked you then. But, would have loved to.

DORIAN Hahaha. Any more questions?

Quentin. yeah.. I have tons. Am I boring you yet?

DORIAN Not at all.

Quentin. Okay, I’m just gonna shoot out a few here. Have you always been into guys? Are you into me? Do you like Chinese food? Would you like to go out with me?

DORIAN I realized I liked guys when I was 13. Yes, I’m into you. I love Chinese food. Yes I’ll go out with you.

Quentin. I love how straight and to the point you are.

DORIAN I try to be. Because that’s how I prefer people to be with me.

Quentin. Fair enough. took me way to long to type that haha

DORIAN Are your hands busy?

Quentin. At the moment... not really. But you just make me question all my logic.

DORIAN That sounds like a bad thing.

Quentin. Is it? I don’t think so. I can be a bit of a brat sometimes and you just make me rethink my smart ass remarks lol

DORIAN Good. I’m teaching you to be a good boy.

Quentin. Hey hey, don’t go getting carried away now lol

DORIAN It’s true.

Quentin. Listen. I do very bad things and I do them very well. I just so happen to like you.

DORIAN You sound like the guy from Taken. I have a very specific set of skills lmao.

Quentin. hahahahaha it’s true though.

DORIAN Mhm. I’ll believe it when I see it. You probably just want me to think you’re a bad boy.

Quentin. Do I not come off as a bad boy? Wait better question... are you into bad boys?

DORIAN You seem like you wanna impress me. Uhhh. I’m not really a fan of people who do bad things, I’ll be honest. I like you though so maybe I’ll make an exception.

Quentin. Ah, calling me out. I would love to impress you. But, sadly I’m not very impressive. I try to be a decent person but I do have a lot of flaws. I could be whatever you like whoever you like though. I’m pretty flexible

DORIAN You’ve impressed me so far. I didn’t say I wanted somebody perfect. I just want someone to respect me and be totally open and honest with me. I’ve been hurt a lot and I really don’t need any added stress. I just want you to be yourself.

Quentin. Well, okay then. Retract my current statement and let me start again. I’m just a very laid back guy who likes to have a good time and can get super soft when you stroke my dark side. is that honest enough?

DORIAN Okay.. and what are your intentions with me?

Quentin. My intentions. I feel like I should start singing you the lyrics to a Justin Bieber song, ha. I just like you, you’re very attractive, sweet, and I’d love to get to know you more. I’ll be honest. I haven’t really been interested in another guy in quite some time. But, you intrigue me.

DORIAN You know, I’m not normally a Bieber fan, but I like that Intentions song lol. Thanks honey. I’m down to get to know each other better. Oh yeah? I feel special.

Quentin. Everyone I know says that lol. Does anyone ever actually like Bieber? lol. There are definitely things I’d like to do with you on a daily basis. But I’m trying to let you feel me out. Because I can be a hard pill to swallow sometimes. You should definitely feel special though, because you are a rare gem.

DORIAN He has a handful of songs that I like but in general, I wouldn’t call myself a fan. Plus he seems like kind of a dick. A hard pill to swallow? You seem perfectly easy to get along with to me. Don’t make me blush.

Quentin. Same. He’s definitely a dick though. I guess what I meant was, I have a lot of demons. I do a lot of things people don’t necessarily agree with. But my top three traits are definitely flirty, chill, and spontaneous. you’re very cute when you blush though

DORIAN Like I said, as long as you treat me with respect and are honest with me, we won’t have any issues. I disagree that I’m cute when I blush but thanks honey lol.

Quentin. You got it! I’ll have to agree to disagree with you there though. Because I’m the one who gets to look at you, so I’m pretty sure I know what I’m talking about. Speaking of which. You should send me a photo... please.

DORIAN You’re doing all this talking about me, but have you seen how handsome you are? Actually no, don’t answer that. I’m sure you know exactly how hot you are.

Quentin. Lmao you’re so cute. I’m so not hot. But I appreciate the compliment. God! Look at YOU!! what the fuck are you drinking cause damn it looks almost as delicious as you.

DORIAN Uhhh. You definitely are very hot so hush that noise. Lol, it was a strawberry banana smoothie. Can I have a picture too?

Quentin. yessir. It was, haha. I feel very left out of the experience. Sure, handsome.

DORIAN Look at you, following orders like a good boy. (; We can go get smoothies together sometime if you want.

Quentin. hahaha mhm. You just make me fall in line so easily. I’d like that for sure.

DORIAN What can I say? It’s a gift.

Quentin.

this is just me sitting outside editing our cover song seems like you have a lot of those

DORIAN Holy shit, can you seriously look at that picture and say that you’re not hot? Who lied to you?

Quentin. uhm... a lot of people have lied to me. But, you’re reaction definitely makes me tingly.

DORIAN Well I’m here to set the record straight. You are very very attractive, Q. Make no mistake about that.

Quentin. How are you even single? You’re like the messiah of my heart. Not that I’m Jewish by any means lol

DORIAN Lmao oh my gosh. Well because I recently got dumped for somebody else. That’s why. And before that, I was single by choice because I lost my wife in a car accident. So I took about two and a half years to grieve and get myself back together.

Quentin. Dumped for someone else? What an idiot. I definitely know all about loss though with my first real girlfriend. I don’t wanna get too dark on you. But I’ve seen a lot of loss as well. But, you definitely shouldn’t be anyone’s second choice.

DORIAN I appreciate that. It’s really nice to hear. I’m sorry you had to deal with loss as well, honey. It’s not easy. I’m gonna take a shower, we’ll continue this conversation when I get out, okay? Try not to miss me too much.

Quentin. it’s definitely not easy. But, it makes us who we are in some weird twisted sense. You enjoy that shower, I’ll be around whenever you wanna talk. I can’t help it if I miss you though.

[ 30 minutes later ]

DORIAN Hi, I’m back.

Quentin. Hi :) Did you enjoy your shower?

DORIAN I did, thank you. What were you up to while I was gone?

Quentin. Not a whole lot. Just finished editing our cover and posted it. Lots of great feedback already.

DORIAN I saw! That’s super dope. The track turned out great.

Quentin. Thank you. It’s all because you’re an amazing drummer. I had no idea but you really blew me away

Quentin. Also, I’d love to take you out soon. Like, really soon.

DORIAN Aww, thanks babe. But I only put down the drum line. You did literally everything else so don’t give me too much credit. You would?

Quentin. You still made it even better than it would have been. yes, absolutely!

DORIAN You’re too sweet. You’re making me wanna kiss you. would we get Chinese?

Quentin. I would love to kiss you, darlin. We could get whatever you like.

DORIAN I didn’t just melt a little when you called me darlin. Nope. That did not happen. It was a figment of your imagination.

Quentin. Don’t go melting too much Lmao. Oh oh.. nvm. Ha

DORIAN BIG EYES EMOJI

Quentin. Fuck you’re cute!

DORIAN So are you. Now what did you say nvm about?

Quentin. I was just gonna say unless it’s in my mouth. But I was trying to behave myself.

DORIAN Oh wow. Naughty.

Quentin. It happens. Cant be an Angel all the time. So when can I touch you again? I mean, see you.

DORIAN Oh my gosh lol. Tomorrow. If you’d like.

Quentin. I’d love.

DORIAN Cutie. It’s a date then.

Quentin. Wow, I’m so lucky. also a little nervous, ha.

DORIAN Aww, that’s adorable. Nothing to be nervous about, hon. You didn’t seem nervous the other day.

Quentin. I’m always nervous. I’m just really good at hiding it haha

DORIAN Yeah, amazingly good at it because I couldn’t tell that you were nervous at all.

Quentin. Good, you weren’t supposed to be able to tell heh

DORIAN That’s really cute though. But there’s still nothing to be nervous about.

Quentin. of course there is. You could always crush me into a million pieces and then laugh as you watch me try to pick them up

DORIAN Absolutely not. I’ve had that done to me one too many times. I never wanna put anyone else through that.

Quentin. well I’ll beat up anyone who ever tries to hurt you again. I swear

DORIAN Ooh, a man who will fight for me. Hot.

Quentin. Of course I would. You’re definitely worth it

DORIAN Blushing again.

Quentin. you sure I have to wait until tomorrow? I told you I could get impatient. I did tell you that right? Haha

DORIAN I don’t think you mentioned it lol. Our date would have to wait till tomorrow since most restaurants aren’t open and I’m pretty sure you plan on taking me out to eat. But if you wanna see me tonight, you can.

Quentin. Oh, well nvm then haha. That’s fair. I’d love to see you tonight but you can tell me no if you want. It won’t falter my interest

DORIAN you’re welcome to see me tonight. I’d love to see you too.

Quentin. Should I come to you? I’ve been mindlessly starring at the LOTR and laying in bed so I’m free.

DORIAN Yes please, come to me.

Quentin. yessir

DORIAN Good boy.

#text #texts.#chats:discord #chats:dorian #ft.dorian #ft.khai

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smokeyloki · 4 years ago

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Luna likes her tea not too hot, not too cold. On hot days like today, though, she prefers the chilly, fizzling taste of melon soda. A plastic cup with a lid and a blue straw, filled almost to the brim with a neon green soda. Tiny bubbles shift, form and pop inside the liquid as she swirls the cup in her free hand.�� With her other hands, Luna brushes back her short, dark hair, trying to keep the bangs from falling in her eyes. Then she sneaks a look up at her partner to see how he was holding up.

Monty’s a walking billboard of color; his expression and bespectacled eyes might sad and drawn, but his wardrobe was an explosion of patterns. His bright red suspenders cross over a yellow and green plaid shirt, and his green pants were speckled with flecks of dark green. The curls on the top of his head bounce and quiver when he looks down at her.

She meets his quiet, sad stare with a smile and she gently taps her cup against his.

“Enjoying your float?” Luna murmurs with a hopeful kind of anxiousness in her tone. She had insisted upon him trying the melon soda with a scoop or two of cold ice cream dropped inside. It colored the green liquid with a soft, creamy tinge, and added a bit of substance to the drink.

Monty is skinny. Remarkably so, and Luna had reason to suspect it wasn’t just because of a natural physique. But instead of confrontation, she has begun to make suggestions instead.

“Try this drink!” she would remark with excited gestures.

“Take the rest of my dinner because there’s no way I’m finishing it all.”

“We should stop into this shop because they have the cutest little cakes..!”

So far, Monty hasn’t seemed to catch on.

He takes a sip out of his straw (watermelon pink in hue) and he presses his lips together as a thoughtful expression crosses his face.

As he thinks, a veil of sadness is lifted, and Luna savors these peeks at the man behind the curtain. He’s about her age, though the weight on his heart drags down his shoulders and has added unlived years to his stare. And quite unlike herself, a Maverick who lived behind an alias in day-to-day life, Monty wore his life and feelings as loudly as his clothing choices.

Even now, Luna knows exactly what he’s thinking about. He’s tasting the tart melon soda, the smooth vanilla-ness of the ice cream. As he savors them, he’s also finding the perfect words to describe this orchestra of flavor, and how to best convey it to his audience (aka her). And she’s happy to wait for Monty, happy to sip on her soda and happy to see him smile a smile that didn’t seem so tired and painful.

“...Yes.”

A short answer.

To Luna, Monty looks like the kind of person who liked talking. But now his words are all tucked away behind those drooping, stiff lips of his.

“I think it’s good. Strangest float I’ve ever had. But good.”

Luna laughs a little, nodding seriously and tucking those loose strands of hair behind her ear again. Monty watches her, then looks at his cup, and then he laughs, too. Quiet, breathy, and it carries away on a passing breeze.

But it’s a laugh, nonetheless, and as Monty turns conversation to studying the green tint of his soda, Luna is still stuck on that laugh.

In that moment, she realizes a few things. Firstly, melon soda has never seemed so sweet or refreshing before today. Secondly, she loved that laugh. Luna loved that breathy, giggling sound. Thirdly, she wondered how she could make it happen more often.

And fourthly...the client responsible for the laugh wasn’t too bad, either.

The client with bright clothes, sad eyes, and a melon soda float.

He’s looking at her expectantly, and so Luna brushes back her hair and smiles, hoping that Monty hadn’t asked a question.

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

Monty belongs to Supes :)

#Monty Hasikos #Luna #original characters #writing #my writing

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sierracolorstheworldofwords · 6 years ago

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Yandereplier x reader fluff

An: This was originally posted on my Wattpad account— Emmawinterfrost (or SierraColor) I have a whole one shot book there! I hope you enjoy this fluffy Drabble! ❤️❤️

Surrounded by flowers— flashes of pink, a scattering of yellow, and green stalks rising towards the sun, like long arms reaching towards the depths of the cyan sky.

Day dreams surrounded you, a speckle of daisies, a book stretched across your chest, the light caressing your face as you closed your eyes. Birds chirped, trees fluttered in the warm breeze, and thoughts, like dandelion seeds, fluttered on the wind of your mind.

You wondered, what would happen if you gave Yan a flower? Would he like it?

Frowning, you opened your eyes, and looked up at the sky, the clouds looked like pieces of cotton that someone stretched out, long lines full of fish scales and fluffy puffs of white.

Sitting up, your head peaked above the green yellow grass, which, to you, shone like shards of watery emeralds in the sunlight.

Biting your lip, you looked at the soft, wildflowers that surrounded you.

Would he like flowers?

Nervously, you picked the fluffy pink flowers that clustered around you, along with some red and yellow ones, whose petals opened like the mouths of lions.

Smiling, you gathered your book, and ran out of the field that you had wondered off to.

You knew Yan would often worry about you wondering off, but you couldn’t help it sometimes, the world was just so pretty— why wouldn’t you want to go and explore it?

Humming, you walked through the field, gathering flowers— bits of peachy bulbs that flocked together, a stalk or two of one flower that resembled a sunflower, but it was red, with yellow edges, and small white ones that looked almost like starfish.

Swinging your bouquet, you walked into the woods.

You loved the sounds of the forest Yan and his family lived by, the joyous giggle of the creek, the gossip of the trees, and the chirping of the birds.

You couldn’t help but smile as you passed the big oak that guarded the entrance to the woods, and went inside the big house through the opened back door.

You loved Yan’s house, it was modern, had a swimming pool, and was surrounded by lots of pretty things! It made you smile whenever you saw it, because it reminded you of an egg. Chuckling at the thought, you went out of the kitchen, and up the stairs, towards Yan’s room.

Shyly, you knocked on his door, hiding the flower’s behind you back. You waited a few moments before opening it.

“Yan?”

A whimper came from the curled piles of blankets on the bed.

“Yan-Yan? You okay?” You asked worriedly, approaching the pile.

“Senpai?”

“Yeah.. it’s me..”

Suddenly, as if a spark of life came to him, he rushed out of bed and hugged you.

“I missed you so much! I was so worried! Are you okay?” He asked, taking your face into his hands, and checking your cheeks.

Smiling, you nodded.

“I got you something!”

“Huh?”

“I got you something!”

Yan blinked in surprise, and started to blush.

“Y—you did?”

“Mhm!” A small smile came onto your face, as you slowly pulled your arm out from behind your back. “Do you wanna seeeeeeeeeee?” You teased,leaning towards him.

He nodded eagerly, and nervously fidgeted with his hands, as he took them away from your cheeks and put them behind his back.

Excitedly, you took out the bouquet of wildflowers, and presented it in front of him.

He gasped.

“S..senpai!” Yan exclaimed, putting his hands over his mouth.

Giggling at his cuteness, you smiled fondly at him, “..I know it’s not a fancy bouquet or anything—b-but.. I.. well, I just saw the flowers and thought of you, because flowers are pretty and they make me really happy, like you do.”

Yan’s eyes widened as he nervously reached to grab the flowers, he felt his heart flutter like a hummingbird in his chest, and he could feel his stomach doing back flips and flopping like a fish.

“Senpai..”

He noticed the way you smiled, and the way you looked down softly, and the way your eyes met his, bursting with rose colored love.

“I love you, Yan.”

Then, his heart burst.

“Say it again.” He pleaded quietly, a hand caressing your cheek tenderly.

“I love you so much Yan.”

“Oh Senpai..” he whispered.

“I love you to the moon and past the stars and past the edge of the universe and I love you all the way back to past the edge to earth, if that makes sense..I’m kind of rambling...but— “

Pulling you closer, he gently grabbed your chin, lifting your face towards his.

His eyes were filled with love, and that love fell down like spring rain on the earth of your soul, you could feel sprouts of affection blooming inside of your chest as his eyes stared into yours.

You felt afraid and vulnerable at the same time, whenever you stared into his eyes, because sometimes you worried he would see all those insecurities and all those things you hated about yourself and leave. Leave. Gone. Poof. Vanish. Like everyone else in your life.

But at the same time, you felt vulnerable— and valued, like you were a fragile doll he was holding in his soft, calloused hands.

Yan leaned closer, and he could feel your breath on his lips.

Looking into your eyes, he found heaven— no, something better than heaven! The way you looked at him, full of love and admiration made his chest burst—burst, like fireworks going off in July and Ramune soda after the bead was pushed down, and all the bubbles burst and popped and fizzled.

He felt safe in your eyes, and in your touch, and he couldn’t wait to not kiss you any longer because god, your lips looked— they looked delicious and pretty and he knew it was weird to think of lips as delicious, but he wanted to taste yours over and over again, memorizing the taste with his tongue.

He kissed you.

He kissed you and the world exploded.

Your eyes fluttered closed, and your hand went into his hair, and you desperately pulled him closer, because you loved him.

And his lips on yours felt like flowers, flowers bursting into bloom underneath the sun.

Pulling away from you, he smiled, and said: “I love you.”

“Say it again.” You whispered.

“I love you. All the way past the edge of the universe, and even farther than that, and I’ll still love you, even when I’m dead and only bones in the ground.”

“Oh Yan..”

You put a hand to his cheek, and kissed him again.

He tasted your lips and they tasted like flowers, and he could taste your breath. His tongue flicked over your lips, and you let him in, and he greedily licked and explored your mouth, tasting every part of you.

You let him, and your tongue went along with his, while he traced every tooth, you traced the roof of his mouth and the inside of his cheek. He pulled away, a trail of spit connecting the two of you.

Panting, he looked into your eyes again, and kissed you softly.

“I love you.” He whispered, putting the flowers on the nightstand.

“I love you too.”

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he picked you up, carrying you to bed.

He sat you in his lap, and nuzzled his face into your neck.

"I could spend all day kissing you."

You smiled, "Then, why don't you?"

Chuckling, he gently grabbed your chin, turning you to him, and kissed you.

The both of you kissed each other for hours, the room filled with the smell of flowers, and the blooms of love burst through the windows, crowded the walls, and crawled up the bed frame, casting the room with its radiance.

#yandereplier x reader #yandereplier #yandere #egosxreader #markiplier #fluff #chubbyreader #yan x reader #yandereplierxreader #sierra’s writing

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our-smooty · 6 years ago

Text

When I’m Up I Can’t Get Down

Fandom: Gorillaz

Rating: Mature

Relationships: 2doc

Tags: 2doc, no romance really, Drugs, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, 2D not being smart about drug safety, Murdoc being weirdly caring, Angst

Summary: Thumping club music, amazing lights, sweaty bodies. The club was wild on a Saturday night, filled to the brim with pretty boys and girls sloshed out of their minds or higher than the stars.2D was a bit of both.

Thumping club music, amazing lights, sweaty bodies. The club was wild on a Saturday night, filled to the brim with pretty boys and girls sloshed out of their minds or higher than the stars.

2D was a bit of both.

Within minutes of entering the building, he’d been offered a myriad of different pills and powders. He’d sampled quite a few and left some for the other partygoers, of course. Then he’d hit the bar hard, downing shots of something strong until he couldn’t see the bartender to order another through the haze. Eventually, he must have needed to take a piss, because he was washing his hands just as the majority of the Ecstacy kicked in, making him groan.

He could feel the vibrations of the music as he pressed his hands against the disgusting counter. It left his bones tingling so hard he just had to press his forehead against the mirror to feel it in his brain.

“Faceache?” Oh, how long had he been in here? Stu slid his face to the side against the mirror, leaving a trail of drool. Murdoc looked alarmed, and a little disgusted from where he was standing by the door. “What the fuck are you doin’?”

“Washin m’ands,” he slurred. Murdoc rolled his eyes and walked up to the nearest urinal. 2D tried not to listen to the sound of Murdoc pissing, but the man was just so loud. The sloshing liquid sound made him nauseous.

“You havin’ a good time then, mate?” Murdoc asked over his shoulder. 2D shrugged, then remembered the bassist could see him.

“I guess, feel kinda t-tired.”

“Yeah,” Murdoc zipped his fly loudly, “that’ll happen when you sample half the goddamn drugs in the club at once.”

Stu frowned and walked towards him with a shambling gate. “You--! You ‘ad some t-too!”

“I did, but unlike you I know what to mix and when. I’m surprised you’re even still standing right now,” Murdoc answered, taking the singer’s face in his hands. 2D tried to flinch away but the bassist’s grip was strong. “D’you even know what you took?”

Stu thought. “Feels like eccy, and s-some oxy f'sure.”

“Saw you takin’ more than that.” Murdoc was turning his head from side to side, trying to see his pupils. “Dilated, and you’re burnin’ hot.”

“Hm?” What was he doing here again? Did he even know the name of this club? Rather than worry about it, he focused on the feeling of Murdoc’s calloused palms against his skin. Usually, the bassist ran hot, but right now his hands felt cool and refreshing.

“I don’t think you’re in danger of overdosing, but we should get you somewhere cool, at least. Come on then, dullard.” Murdoc steered him out of the bathroom and through the crowds. People moved aside easily for the Satanist in a way that they never did for Stu. In moments they were outside the club in the chilly fall air. Stu wished he knew where his jacket was.

“OK sit down over there and don’t do anythin’ stupid,” Murdoc said, pointing to a bench a few feet from the entrance. 2D did, the cold steel of the bench seeping through the seat of his pants in an uncomfortable way. Everything felt too much, too bright even though it was probably a few hours past midnight.

“Thanks, Muds,” he mumbled, running his tongue along his gappy teeth. Murdoc shrugged and handed him a smoke, then a lighter after he’d lit his own. Stu stared and the two objects in his hands like he’d never seen them before.

“Oh for fuck sakes.” Murdoc took them back and lit the fag, shoving it between 2D’s lips. From that point, muscle memory took over and the younger man sucked down the nicotine like it was air.

They sat smoking together in silence. 2D’s mind rolled from thought to though, never staying on one long enough for it to become complete. It felt like floating, like hiding, and he savoured the moment.

“So, what’s got you all worked up then?” Murdoc asked, eyeing him sideways.

“What’d’you mean?”

Murdoc sighed again, staring at the passing cars. “You don’t normally go off the rails like this unless somethin’s botherin’ you.”

Was that true? He’d never noticed. “I dunno, I don’t think anythin’s wrong. I’m jus…”

He trailed off. It wasn’t easy to stay in the moment or to form coherent thoughts. Had he been upset? Stu tried to think back over the last few days. They’d been filming videos and recording songs as usual. Nothing that would make him unhappy.

“I’m tired…”

“D’you wanna go home?” Murdoc offered. “We haven’t been here long, but this club is pretty shite.”

“I dunno, maybe.” He wasn’t really that kind of tired though. It was more of a feeling of slowness in his brain not connected to any of the drugs. A creeping grey that clouded out both good and bad.

Murdoc rolled his eyes and sat back on the bench. “Fine. We can sit here until you decide.”

They smoked through the pack together, watching the drunk club-goers stumble around outside the building. Occasionally, Murdoc would make a disparaging comment about one of them, speaking a little too loudly for Stu’s comfort, but in general, they didn’t say much. His high hadn’t faded in the slightest when he starting to get agitated with sitting out in the open.

“I wanna--I wanna go,” he mumbled, dropping his cig and standing up. Without waiting for Murdoc to follow he began walking off in a random direction, his long legs carrying him pretty far before Murdoc could catch up. The bassist was huffing and puffing with the effort.

“Slow down dammit, we aren’t all built like a bloody giraffe!” He hadn't realized he was going so fast, it'd hardly felt like he as moving at all. Slowing down, Stu watched Murdoc jog a little to catch up, then fall into step beside him.”So where are we in such a soddin’ hurry to get to then?”

“Somewhere else…” the singer said quietly. Really he didn’t have a destination in mind, his brain just told him that he needed to go. That could have just been the drugs talking, but some niggling feeling in the back of his brain told him that he’d been feeling that way for a while. Like he was trapped and needed to get away, but he didn't know how.

Murdoc heaved a long-suffering sigh. “You’re a real headcase, you know that?”

2D snorted unattractively. “Coming’ from y-you.”

Murdoc laughed as well. Whatever he’d taken must have put him in a good mood, because he threw an arm around the singer. “Oh fuck off. Wait, let’s turn here there’s a bangin’ kebab place 'round that corner.”

The next thing he knew they were sitting under dim lights at a dirty table. Murdoc was eating a kebab and making a right mess of it. Stu had a can of coke in front of him, unopened as he rolled it back and forth across the table.

“Ugh, that’s the stuff!” Murdoc said, mouth full and face covered in sauce. “You sure you don’t want one Stu?”

He didn’t both answering. Besides, his mouth was beginning to tingle something fierce and he wasn’t sure anything that came out of it would even resemble human speech. Instead, he set the can right and popped the tab and watched everything fizzle out onto the table.

“Satan’s sake!” Murdoc growled, throwing his napkins over the mess. “You’re a bloody child.”

The soda stopped fizzing so he could finally take a sip. The bubbles in his mouth tickled, making him giggle and dribble liquid all down his chin. Murdoc was unpleased.

“Can’t take you anywhere Dents,” his tone made 2D giggle even more. The need to run away was dissipating and leaving behind an airy sort of giddiness. It was much more pleasant.

“S’not my f-fault. It’s the bubbles!” He’d been right, his voice came out all wobbly and wrong.

Murdoc gave him a patronizing look. “Whatever you say, mate. You feelin’ better?”

“I guess, a lil’,” he answered, wiping up his mess. Murdoc shoved the last bit of his food into his mouth.

“Alrigh’ let's get out of here.” They left the shop and continued walking the way they had been. Their pace was leisurely, now that 2D had calmed down, and they practically strolled along. The side road was less busy, and it looked like it was becoming more and more residential. Stu had no idea where they were, or where they were going and he wondered if Murdoc did.

“So what was all that about, then?” Murdoc asked as they crossed an intersection leading to a small park. Oh, maybe the Satanist did know where he was going.

“I really dunno w-what you m-mean.” It’d been ages since he’d been to a park, probably not since he was a little kid. He was too tall for the slide, but the swings looked big enough, so he sat in one of them idly.

Murdoc took the other swing, digging if boots into the sand. “You’re so high you probably don’t even know what day it is. It’s been years since I’ve seen you act like this...”

He wanted to start swinging but his legs didn’t seem to be cooperating with him anymore. As he stared down at them Murdoc kept talking.

“I thought things were goin’ pretty well between us all. But then Noodle and Russel haven’t been around all that much, and you mostly keep to yourself so…”

“I dun’wanna start another argument,” Stu said distractedly. He had one of his legs back under control, but the other was proving more tricky. “If I'm not around then we can’t start fightin’.”

“You’re not makin’ any sense, Dents,” Murdoc sighed. 2D was pretty sure that the bassist just wasn’t understanding.

“No. I mean, I-I don’t wanna give you an excuse t'be p-pissed at me.”

But maybe he just had. Something primal inside the singer told him he should move, get out of the way. Murdoc was going to take a swing at him and it would hurt, he should move. But nothing happened. Instead, he heard Murdoc sigh again, this time with more weight behind it.

“You all really don’t want anythin’ to do with me, do you?” he asked sadly. Was 2D supposed to comfort him? His high was changing rapidly, and it was getting harder and harder to stay grounded. Like a camera out of focus.

“It’s… complicated…” he ground out, looking over at the bassist. Murdoc hardly looked drunk or high, in fact, he looked startlingly sober. Stu wanted to reach out and touch his friends face but thought that might be pushing it.

“Don’t I know it,” Murdoc chuckled darkly. As if he sensed Stuart’s eyes on him the Satanist looked up. “I don’t know how to fix this, Stu.”

“Fix what?” Was it getting lighter out? Or were his eyes playing tricks on him? And were those lights off in the distance?

“Us, D. Noodle and Russel too but mostly us. I thought things were goin’ OK but…”

But Stu wasn’t paying attention anymore, too preoccupied with the flashing lights of cars from the main street. If he squinted just right and tilted his head, it almost looked like the lights were dancing.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” Murdoc repeated, staring down at his hands. 2D thought maybe he should say something nice, something to make the bassist feel better, but he couldn’t for the life of him think of anything. Instead, he finally got his legs to work in tandem and began to rock back and forth on the swing idly. “I dunno why I’m even talkin’ to you about this now. You’re fuckin’ plastered.”

“Yeah, I am,” he admitted. That earned him a laugh from the bassist, which made him laugh as well. Soon they were two old men cackling to themselves in the middle of the night at a children's play park.

“Whew, bloody hell,” Murdoc cursed as he stopped laughing, wiping a tear from his eye. “We’d better get outta here before someone calls the cops on us.”

2D followed him back down the road, out to the main drag. Murdoc seemed nearly sober now, and the singer had also sobered up a little. Not entirely though, as he tripped over his own feet multiple times. Murdoc had to steady him with an arm around the waist, weaving him through the crowds as best he could. Eventually, they made it back to the club and were lucky enough to see a row of cabs waiting to take intoxicated part-goers home.

“Get in,” Murdoc instructed him and 2D did. The bassist gave the cabbie instructions back to Wobble Street and sat back, arm around the back of the seat. 2D leaned into his hold, feeling sleepy and very very cold now that he was coming down. His jacket was still somewhere back at the club, probably stolen.

“Thanks, Muds,” he mumbled sleepily, letting the sway of the car rock him to sleep. Murdoc grunted in acknowledgement and he didn’t pull away so Stu figured it was alright. He was feeling less disconnected, less frantic, and more tired and lethargic.

“Don’t mention it. Really. Don’t mention what we talked about to Noodle and Russ.”

Stu looked up, confused. “What did we talk about?”

Murdoc looked a little sad, and a little tired himself. “Nothing, Faceache, nothing.”

#2doc #niccalpot #tw DRUGS AND ALCOHOL #angst #Stuart Pot #murdoc niccals #fanfic

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