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lovelybarnes · 3 years ago

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get the girl- p. parker

pairings: peter parker x reader, mentions of ned, betty, mj, and brad warnings: unrequited love (kind of?? implied), lotsss of pining and fluff, a little long about: requested! (DF4) “you fell asleep, i couldn’t move.“ + (DF31) “maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance.” a/n: been wanting to write a peter parker friends to lovers for a while, so thank you so so much for requesting this. i swear i don’t usually take this long?? i got carried away and it got way longer than i expected, i hope you enjoy! thank you for requesting!

peter thinks it’s hopeless. the cliche he’s stuck in seems cruel- no matter what the movies you (and, fine, yes, him sometimes) make him watch say. nothing that happens in them ever transpires to real life; beautiful girls don’t fall in love with their nerdy best friends and guys like peter parker don’t get the girl.

it’s fun to fantasize, though. and especially fun to look at you, particularly when you’re laying on his bed, oblivious to him standing in the doorway, observing as you twist your neck to get a good look at the polaroids he hung up on his wall. a familiar smile grows on your face when your eyes scan them, flickering to the polaroid camera you got him for christmas years ago.

you move to try to get a better look at them without standing up, glancing down when you feel a sharp edge poke at your skin. he watches as your eyebrows furrow in possibly the prettiest way possible and you pull out a polaroid from under you. and oh, peter is just now realizing exactly what that photo is and why it’s on his bed instead of hanging off the empty miniature clothespin that comes from the pack you thrust at his chest when you noticed the increasing pile of pictures on his desk.

he’s moving on autopilot towards you, the foot already halfway through the door used as a stepping stone to go to your side faster. he’s with you in less than three steps, tugging on your ankle and then tackling you as sensibly as possible, laying his whole body on yours. you oof, dropping the picture, having seen it for too little to really question it, and laugh breathlessly. “pete!” you wheeze, curling your arms around his back, one of your hands absentmindedly drawing figures through his hoodie and your other one inching up to his hair, already beginning to thread through the chocolate curls. “yes?” he hums innocently, furtively grabbing the polaroid you dropped and shoving it in the pocket of his hoodie before his arms wrap around your thighs.

“i told you if you keep doing that, one day you’re gonna get hurt,” you scold, looking attentively as peter leans his head against your chest. “me?” he questions, feeling you nod under his cheek. “uh huh, you. you’ll hit your head or something. for a spider-”

“spiderman. superhero,” peter corrects, you ignore him, “you are really clumsy.” peter huffs in dissent, letting a comfortable silence blanket over the both of you for a minute before he looks up at you. “what?” you ask, a smile brimming at the edges of your words. you’re so pretty, peter wants to say, but instead, he goes with a more best-friend-friendly question, “d’you wanna watch a movie?”

you nod at him, pulling your hands away from his head to play with the strings of his hoodie, “sure, what do we want to watch today?” peter’s eyes immediately light up, and you realize you never actually needed to ask. “fine,” you agree, trying not to grin too hard at the way his face brightens. “which one?” you request, watching his freckled cheeks flush pink in excitement, “sixth one. the best one, of course.” you smirk, shrugging, “right, don’t know why i asked, i basically know the movie word for word now.” peter can’t help but give you heart eyes at the knowledge of your knowing the script of his favorite movie. god, you really were the dream girl.

“‘kay, go make some popcorn and get everything ready while i go to the bathroom,” you request, tapping peter’s shoulder as a way to tell peter to let you out from under his body weight. he does the complete opposite of what you imply, however, nuzzling further into your chest and inhaling deeply. “peter,” you laugh, poking his shoulder again, “‘m comfy,” he mumbles, eyes closed. “pete, c’mon, i gotta pee and you’re lying on my bladder,” you whine, “also, don’t you wanna watch episode six of star wars while i eat popcorn and play with your hair?” you singsong. he’s suddenly moving his body off of yours to let you go, although not before pressing a sloppy- friendly- kiss to your arm, “hurry up.”

you giggle as you stand, stretching out your limbs and walking to the bathroom while peter watches you walk away. once he hears the bathroom door shut, he digs his hands into his pockets, fingers tugging on the polaroid he had shoved inside. a smile grows on his face without his permission when he holds it at his stomach, the light reflecting off of the smile that was printed on the picture. he traces a nail over your face, bright and open in the way that makes you gleam. it’s his favorite picture ever, the only one that managed to catch you so in your element, your natural halo of glow apparent in your outline. peter had scrawled the words best girl in red marker on the white space at the bottom- something he thought he could explain away easily if he had to. the picture had its own designated space on his wall, right in the middle so the importance was clear, but it was rarely actually up there, instead always next to him for inspiration when he was doing homework and on his dresser for when he couldn't sleep.

his lips quirk one last time at the photograph before walking to the wall where all the rest of them reside. he hangs it up, glancing at it once more until he turns to walk out of his room.

the movie is ready to play when you walk into the living room, and peter is in the kitchen making your popcorn. “it smells good,” you say in a greeting, sniffing the air and exhaling in satisfaction. peter laughs, “you do that every time we have a movie night.” you tilt your head at him, “do what?” he motions to you, “that. the whole smelling thing and letting me know how good it smells, it’s cute.”

your face heats when it slips out of his lips, pausing to absorb the words he doesn’t seem to have noticed he said. his back is to you, dumping the popcorn into a bowl for you. you can’t see it, but he’s freaking out, trying to think of an excuse if you decide it was too weird. you don’t do anything to imply that, though, just blink until the words dissolve in the air. “thanks,” you finally reply, as nonchalant as you can make it while you grab his m&ms. he hums in response, turning around to head to the couch, “star wars time,” he winks, making you grin.

you follow him as he heads to the couch, settling down next to him once he puts on the movie. the star wars theme starts, the tune fringed by peter’s humming. cute, you think, snuggling deeper into the crook of his arm and shoving popcorn into your mouth. “hmm, good,” you compliment, watching the scenes you’d seen so many times pass on the screens. you mouth along when you recognize the lines until your eyes feel heavy and they shut completely.

quiet thwips wake you up hours later, when the black of the night has bled the sky blue and the stars have littered over the clouds, the moon replacing the sun. you see that the movie is long over when you blink yourself awake, beginning to cuddle deeper into your pillow when you realize it’s too warm and hard to be a pillow. you are met with the vision of your best friend, lip tugged in between his teeth as he concentrates on something behind you. he doesn’t seem to notice that you’re awake, trying to remain as still as possibly while the thwip noises continue. he mutters a curse, scrunching his nose adorably before flicking his eyes to you. they widen when he notices you’re awake, dropping his hand. “what’re you doing?” you yawn, sitting up and away from the warmth of peter’s embrace. “uh- i just- the movie ended and you didn’t wake up, so i tried to get the remote, then i got hungry…” he scratches the back of his head awkwardly, scanning the room and you turn to observe, stunned to see the mess of webs and dropped items you weren’t sure how you didn’t hear. “oh my god, what the- did you try to get everything with your webs?” you ask in bewilderment, eyeing a bag of gummy worms open and on the floor, you snap your neck towards him to observe his burning cheeks. “um. yes,” he confesses, blushing harder. “why didn’t you just get up?” you question, looking back at the ruined living room, exhaling in surprise as you notice the remote on the ground.

“you... you fell asleep on me. i couldn’t move.”

you pause, tilting your head slightly to look at peter, “pete, god, that’s so sweet. but you really don’t need to…” you motion to the dropped items, “do all that,” you laugh. peter shrugs, and you notice the tips of his ears are red, too. “i didn’t want to wake you up. i know how much of a light sleeper you are.”

you feel like you’re melting, every single muscle in your body drooping in the loveliness that was peter parker. you weren’t sure how the boy was real. you suddenly drop yourself on him again, wrapping your arms around his burning neck, “thank you, peter,” you say into his skin. like a reflex, his own arms go around your waist, holding you securely so you won’t fall, “‘f course.”

a moment of quiet follows until peter’s stomach rumbles suddenly, making you laugh, “i think i’ve starved you long enough. you pick today. also, when did you get so ripped? your arms are so big--” peter cuts you off with a groan, dropping his head on your shoulder, “you had to ruin the moment--”

peter doesn’t know what it is with you (actually, he does) that makes you so distracting. you’re just waiting in line for lunch, standing next to mj and laughing occasionally when she says something. all you’re doing is standing, and maybe it’s peter’s boy-hormones combined with his spider-hormones that magnify every single perfect feature of yours, but he can’t take his eyes off of you. you’re so pretty. the curve of the smiles that pulls into your cheeks, the twinkle that remains permanent in the color of your eyes, the way you look in that skirt--

“maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance,” a voice points out from next to him. peter scoffs, ripping his sight away from you to turn to ned. “i talk to her all the time. she’s my best friend.” ned shakes his head and sighs, “you talk to her about star wars, you talk to me about star wars, how is that supposed to help you have a chance--”

“i have a chance,” peter mumbles, trying to believe it himself, “she knows that she and you stand at different levels of best friends--” ned looks offended, “different levels? what is that supposed to mean--” peter stares exasperatedly at his best friend, “it means i want to date her and i don’t want to date you--”

“that’s a little rude--”

“hey you guys,” you greet, sitting down on the seat in front of peter’s and patting the seat next to you for mj. she stares at you silently, and you frown, patting the seat harder, “sit.” you instruct. she sighs and does what she’s told. “what were you guys talking about?” you ask, picking up your small plate of cherry pie to replace the bowl of orange slices that you took from peter’s plate. “thank you,” peter mumbles, digging his fork into the pie the moment you set it down. you hum, stealing a cherry tomato from his salad.

“oh, you know. the usual, your friendship with peter,” the latter shoots him a look and you raise an eyebrow, “that’s the usual? a little strange, don’t you think?” ned shrugs, “did you know that you and i stand at ‘different levels’ as peter’s best friends?” peter nearly chokes on his pie, glaring at ned. you cock your head at peter, thinking as you steal another tomato, “i… guess i thought so? i’ve known peter since, like, preschool, and we tell each other everything.”

“everything, huh?” ned wonders, a sound of pain falling from his lips when peter kicks him under the table. “peter.” he hisses. mj narrows her eyes at the two boys, “what is going on with you guys today? you’re acting weirder than normal.” peter’s face screws up in confusion, looking to you for help. you shrug, “she’s right.”

“i usually am,” mj mutters.

“so what is it?” you query, popping an orange slice as peter cringes at the mere thought of the taste. “peter has a crush,” ned informs helpfully, oblivious to peter’s dismay, “i- i don’t-”

you blink, feeling mj’s elbow shove into your ribs as her own way to make sure you’re okay. you ignore her, and it tells her everything she needs to know. “it’s liz, right?” you guess, trying to mask the hurt on your face with a teasing smile, “i saw you looking at her the other day. she’s pretty.” “no! it’s not- i mean, yes, liz is pretty, but i don’t like her or anything- ned doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” peter rambles. “pete, you don’t have to be embarrassed, i’m just upset you didn’t tell me,” you lie. peter’s eyebrows furrow, “you’re just upset that… i didn’t tell you?” he repeats. you nod, biting into another orange slice. “just that?” he asks meekly. you cock your head at him.

“i just- never mind. it’s not liz,” he says, poking at his pie. “so you admit you have a crush?” you start with a fake smirk, jabbing at your best friend with your fork, “just not on liz?”

“i didn’t… i didn’t say that-” peter stutters. your eyes narrow at him, lip tugged between your teeth, “i’m gonna find out who it is by the end of the day.”

peter is unfortunately sure you will. he’s not subtle as is, but you’re never deliberately looking for the signs, which makes it a lot easier to hide his embarrassingly large crush on you. but now, you'll be paying attention to his every move, and knowing you, he knows you won’t stop until you find out what you want, unless he tells you to back off. but, does he want you to back off?

he pushes his tray away, suddenly not feeling so hungry.

you stay true to your promise, hanging off his arm for the rest of the day, observing the way he acts around some of your classmates, but somehow not noticing the way he blatantly refuses to look at you- which proves humiliatingly difficult; peter never realized exactly how much he turned to look if you laughed at the joke too, or to catch one of your smiles when you hear something funny or peter whispers a joke into the shell of your ear.

by the end of the day when you’re walking to the train station together, you’re groaning at him, putting your full weight on his arm as you tug at him. “who is it? is it betty? oh my god, is it mj? is that why you kept looking at her?” you ask excitedly. peter wants to tell you the truth: he wasn’t looking at mj, he was looking at you, because as much as he tried, he couldn’t pry his attention off of you, who just so happened to sit next to mj.

“not mj. not betty,” he replies, pulling you inside the subway and scanning for free seats. you trail behind him when he finds a spot, letting you take it as he stands in front of you. “not them… it has to be liz, right?” you pry, sighing when he shakes his head. “brad- it’s brad, right?” you grin, whining when he denies it again. “can you just tell me if i got them already? i’ve practically said everyone in the school,” you complain, “they do go to school with us, right?” at peter’s nod, you drop your head against his abdomen, “and you have not said their name yet.”

“peter,” you drag out, reaching out for his hand to pull it, “just tell me! i can probably set you up with them!”

“y/n, just drop it,” he sighs, and you sigh too, mumbling a fine before noticing an older lady standing at the door. you wave her over, standing next to peter and letting her take your seat. peter feels like his heart will pop out of his chest.

the bumps of the subway push you close enough to him to feel the thundering of his heart, and your eyebrows knit together in worry, “are you okay? your heart’s beating, like, really fast-” yeah and your hand on my chest is not helping- “‘m fine.”

“is it because of the crush thing?” yes, “because i’m sorry about annoying you about it so much, if you don’t want to talk about it, i won’t bother you with it. just know that if they don’t like you back, they’re insane, because you, peter parker, are a ca-”

it was like a rubber band snapping, and peter suddenly couldn’t help it anymore, pushing his lips against yours, effectively cutting you off and catching you so off-guard, you freeze for a second before reacting, pulling his jaw closer. you almost tug him back when he pulls away, before you remember you’re still standing on a crowded, moving subway, and while kissing your best friend had been all you wanted for way too long, you were absolutely going to miss your stop if you didn’t stop.

“i- i’m sorry, i just-” peter stammered, stepping back. “no! so, please don’t apologize, seriously, it’s fine, it’s, like, better than fine.”

a beat of awkward silence passed before the tube halted to the stop right before yours. “it’s you. in case that didn’t… come clear. you’re the person i like,” peter informs quietly. “really?” you ask, cheek already pulling in a shy smile. “really,” peter assures.

this time, you don’t really care if you miss your stop, and neither does peter, now that he knows that, sometimes, peter parker does get the girl.

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the-yandere-cryptid · 2 years ago

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Hello! I've binged all of your fics in one night and am absolutely in love with how you write. I'd like to request something... lately I've been into ruined orgasms... do you think we could get otto x reader orgasm denial/ruined orgasms, but with him as the sub? I know you're busy and have personal stuff going on right now,, so please don't feel pressured to do this. Take care of yourself first! I also don't know how comfy you are with writing him as a sub. I, for one, absolutely lose it for a Big Strong Man being made to suffer!

Why yes, I think I can do something like that for ya >:)c

Spider!Reader / Otto Octavius

---

Of all the villains you had caught in your web, Doc Ock was by far the least irritated to be there. Getting silk shots out fast enough to pin the Doctor plus his four actuators hadn’t been easy, but once you had him up against the wall he got remarkably calm, relaxed even as you approached his stiff body. You knew why: Otto had every reason to believe you wouldn’t hurt him.

“Oh dear,” he monotoned, eyes mocking behind his glasses. “I’ve been captured. Unfortunate.”

“Indeed,” you agreed with him, sliding your hand in the sliver between your mask and bodysuit and lifting the stretchy fabric over your mouth. Otto faltered slightly at your mischievous smile but quickly recovered, gesturing with what limited mobility his hands could manage to you.

“I can’t help but notice you haven’t contacted the police, Spider—oh, pardon me. The Sapphire Spider.” You didn’t bend under his taunting, causing him to finally lose his smirk. “What’s your plan here?”

“Hmm,” you drawled, reaching out to touch Otto’s belt buckle. His eyebrows rose, and the smile returned almost instantly. “Remember last week?”

Otto’s hips were already raising to meet your touch, his voice a haughty growl. “Every moment.”

“Then you can consider this payback.” You cupped his erection through his pants, but the reaction was minimal, Otto already swept away in the crystal clear memory of you pinned to the ground by his metal limbs while his human hands worked you into a sobbing mess. You had only just finished fixing the rips in your costume, and it felt only right to let Otto know exactly how frustrated that made you feel.

“Whatever you want,” he rumbled. It seemed that going a week without seeing you in action had him pent up, too eager for your touch to remember his role as a villain. That worked out fine with you. You made a show of licking your lips before coming to your knees, working the button and zipper of his slacks out of your way and pulling the fabric down just enough to reveal his bulging cock. His boxers did nothing to hide his size. easy to pull away and leave him at your mercy.

Otto chuckled before you drew a gasp out of him, gloating cut short as you wrapped your mouth around the head of his cock. All his machismo melted, relaxing himself in the grip of your web and submitted to anything you would do to him. Exactly as you expected, he was entirely relaxed. You massaged your thumbs into his hips, pushed his cock down your throat with ease, did everything you knew he liked to work him up to a quick climax, something he noted with an excited huff. “Not wasting any time, are we?”

The corners of your lips quirked and you pulled yourself off his cock, replacing your mouth with quick strokes of your hand. “What’s that?”

He threw his head back and grunted. “No no, don’t stop.”

“Are you begging?” you asked, smiling up at him without a hint of innocence in your tone or your grin. He let his head fall forward and glowered at you, but said nothing. You shrugged and took your hand away with mock disappointment. “Alright.”

“Wait,” he wheezed, his distress more apparent now than it was when you had him caught in the first place. He sputtered as you pulled your mask back down, trying and failing to push his hips towards you. “Wait, wait. You’re—you’re just going to—“

“Leave you like this?” you finished his sentence, yanking his pants back up. He hissed as his cock chafed against his boxers, his expression of shock nearly pitiful. “Yeah. I am.”

“I’ll beg,” he breathed, licking his lips with desire. You pushed yourself to stand and his voice got more desperate. “I want to finish, please, I need you, don’t—“

“Aht.” You pressed a finger to his lips, and he ran his tongue along the digit without hesitation. Your smile widened beneath your mask. “Remember last week?”

Otto stopped mid-lick, eyes finally sobering with realization. You patted his cheek and began heading for the door. “Then you can consider this payback!”

#otto octavius x reader #otto octavius #doc ock #yandere scribbles #i have some free time tonight so im working on a couple requests and stuff

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michelangelinden · 2 years ago

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Also if it's not too much could you do 5 for Willex?♡

Of course!!

Here is 5. Our friend is too good at telling ghost stories at this sleepover, can I please sleep in your bed with you? for you <3

Remember when I said that the first Halloween prompts fic I wrote was long with 1.9k words? Well this one is longer, rip, you're welcome.

Thanks @legolasghosty, have some baby gays

Willex and Found Family. 2.5k words. Rated G.

“Do you wanna come too?” Julie had asked and Willie had never responded with a nod quicker than that lunch period. Did he want to come to the legendary Halloween party Julie had apparently been hosting—or her parents had been hosting—for four years now? Absolutely, there was no question.

Willie’s mom dropped him off at Julie’s house.

“And you’re gonna call me if you want me to pick you up early, alright?”

“Yes, mom,” Willie promised. “But it’s gonna be fine. They’re my friends.”

“I know they are.” Willie’s mom smiled at him with that fond smile that she only used when she was still worried about him but didn’t want him to know. “But you’ve only known them for a couple of weeks. Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up at eleven?”

Willie gave her a pass for being worried. She was right. He had known them only for a couple of weeks, but they had basically adopted him when he had turned up on the first day of middle school. For him, it had not only been a new school environment like for all of the others, but he had been in a new state as well. He’d been completely helpless until they’d seamlessly integrated him into their friend group just two months ago.

“Yes, I’m sure. I want to stay.” Willie pondered for a moment, trying to think of something that would calm her down. “Alex will be there. And Reggie, you know Reggie.”

“Ah, yes. Reggie. He’s nice.”

“Yes, Reggie’s nice. And so are his friends. And they are my friends too.”

His mom sighed but she did seem a little calmer than before. “Okay. Did you pack a toothbrush? You’re gonna be eating a lot of candy.”

Willie couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “Yes, I packed a toothbrush and I’m gonna use it before we go to bed.”

“Alright. If you don’t call me earlier then I’ll pick you up at 11am tomorrow, alright?”

“Sounds great, thanks.” He opened the door to exit the car but turned to her one last time. “See you. I love you.”

She smiled at him. “Love you too. Have fun!”

Willie barely got to say, “I will,” before he got swept away by Reggie rushing towards him. They both waved goodbye to Willie’s mom but Reggie was already pulling Willie towards what looked like to be a garage. Was that where the party was held?

“You’re gonna love it,” Reggie promised immediately. “I don’t know what you already know, but this is gonna be the best party of your life.” Willie didn’t want to tell him that this was also gonna be like the first party of his life. “First we’re gonna have a Halloween themed dinner, Rose—that’s Julie’s mom by the way—made pumpkin soup, and she’s gonna serve it in an actual pumpkin! Then we’re going trick or treating. Then when we’re back we’re gonna set up for scary ghost stories, and then maybe we’re gonna watch a scary movie—are you allowed to watch scary movies? And then maybe more ghost stories, we’ll see. Luke and I dared each other to see who can stay up the longest. I vote me, but that depends on how much candy I’m gonna eat. Who do you think will win? Oh! Do you want to join the dare?”

Reggie kept talking up until he pushed open the doors of the garage for them, fake spider webs littering the windows and specks of a ghost fairy light shining through. Willie barely had the chance to take a breath between Reggie’s rambling.

He was pleasantly surprised to see that the inside of the garage looked nothing like what he expected a garage to look like. It was really cozy, a lot of plants, an impressive grand piano, more instruments, and an abundance of Halloween decoration. It also had a loft, but it seemed like that was mostly used for storage.

The floor of the garage was already decked out with mattresses, blankets, and more pillows than Willie could count with just one blink of his eyes. Julie and Alex were fluffing them up and throwing them to different mattresses, apparently checking that everyone had an equal amount, probably to prevent arguments. Flynn and Luke were bustling around too and they all looked up when Willie and Reggie entered.

“Hey guys,” Luke greeted immediately.

Willie waved a little awkwardly.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Julie called. “Do you have a preference where you want to sleep? Luke has already claimed the couch, but I think that one’s,” she pointed at the one closest to the door, “and that one’s still free.” Now she pointed to one closer to the loft.

“No, I already claimed that one, I don’t want to sleep in the middle,” Alex pointed out almost anxiously, as if anyone was gonna take it from him.

“Oh. Then the one next to that,” Julie corrected.

Willie looked over at Alex protectively putting a pillow down on his mattress. Willie thought Alex was very pretty, with his blond hair and that careful expression and the pink shirts he liked to wear sometimes. Today he was already wearing his Halloween costume, which wasn’t pink, but looked good anyways. They always did group costumes, this year’s theme was The Avengers, and Alex was dressed as Captain America. Willie thought it was very fitting. Alex the golden boy. Willie liked Alex.

“Yeah, that one’s good,” he told Julie.

“Okay perfect!” She grinned at him. She also looked great in her Thor costume. “You can put your bag down wherever, I think mom will call us for dinner soon.

Reggie let go of Willie’s arm so Willie could put his bag down on his mattress. He smiled at Alex as he passed him and Alex smiled back, which made Willie feel all tingly inside.

“Nice costume,” Flynn commented when she walked past him.

“Oh, thanks.” Willie looked down at his Black Widow outfit. He also thought it was pretty cool. “Your’s too.”

“I know, thanks.” Flynn twirled in her Hawkeye costume, even though there wasn’t much to twirl. “I’m so excited you wanted to switch with me, I think we look so much cooler like this.”

Willie nodded in agreement, not really sure how to respond.

“Hey guys, mom just said that dinner’s ready,” Julie announced and everyone scrambled to get inside the house. Even Willie was excited to finally try the soup Reggie was gushing about.

***

Reggie had been right. The soup was amazing, and Rose really did serve it in a hollowed out pumpkin, it was so cool. So was trick or treating afterwards. Willie had never been with such a big group, let alone one that exciting. People had recognized their costumes and loved them, and they all got some great candy in their baskets. Willie was a little scared of the sugar rush they were gonna experience later in the evening, but when he looked at all the bright smiles on his friends’ faces, and felt the one on his own, then he was also looking forward to it.

When they got back to the garage, they changed out of their costumes and into their PJs. There was a small bathroom in the garage and they all took turns trying to help Luke scrub off the green paint he insisted on wearing for his Hulk costume. In the end his face was more red than green from all the vigorous scrubbing, with only some edges of paint at his hairline and under his chin. He didn’t care.

They decided to watch a scary movie first, to get into the right mood for their ghost stories. Willie didn’t know if he liked scary movies, he’d never really watched one, let alone without his parents. To his relief, the movie Reggie and Flynn chose wasn’t that scary. Although he got jumpscared a couple of times, Willie was by far not the one who was most terrified by what was happening on screen. That title definitely went to Alex.

While Reggie and Luke were watching excitedly, leaning forward on the couch to get a little closer to the TV, and Flynn and Julie were huddled together but still watching nervously, Alex was completely turned away from the screen. He and Willie were sitting on a mattress, leaned again the legs of their friends on the couch, and Alex seemed so close to burying his face in Willie’s shoulder to not have to watch or hear the movie. Willie wouldn’t have minded. He would offer his shoulder if he didn’t feel so awkward about talking during a movie.

It was equally bad when their movie was finished and they were sitting in a circle, eating candy, and taking turns telling ghost stories. Willie’s wasn’t very scary, it was more funny, but he was elated that he was able to make his new friends laugh. Reggie’s was really good. It was very elaborate, he had obviously been thinking about it for a while. Luke however dominated the game. His story was terrifying. Willie didn’t know what it was, but Luke had a way with words that had even Flynn running her hands up and down her arms to soothe her goosebumps. Alex was visibly mortified. He didn’t have anything to turn away from so he just gaped at Luke like he was telling the most disturbing thing. In a way he was right.

By the time they’d all told a more or less scary story, it was 11pm and they were all exhausted. Luke and Reggie both looked ready to lose the dare for a good night’s sleep. They decided to just get ready for bed, lay on their mattresses, and see what happened, if anyone got up for another scary story, or had something else to talk about.

In the end Luke lost the dare. He was the first out of all of them to fall asleep, but he’d had the most candy, so his sugar high had the biggest after effects. Reggie and Julie quickly followed, Reggie satisfied with having won the dare and Julie tired after being the world’s best party host. Flynn, Willie, and Alex stayed up a bit longer, giggling about whatever came to their minds at this late hour, but Flynn followed her sleeping friends not that long after.

“How’d you like the party?” Alex asked eventually.

Willie smiled. “I loved it, I had so much fun. I can’t remember ever staying up this late.” He turned to look at Alex but couldn’t see very much in the dark. “You’re all so cool.”

He heard Alex shift in his bed. “We were all glad you could come. I—I think you’re really cool too.”

“Really?”

Willie heard Alex nod by the rustle of his pillow case. “Yeah. You’re really funny. And—and I loved your costume. And you have a skateboard. That’s cooler than all of us.”

That made Willie giggle. “You think so?”

“Totally. So cool.”

Willie’s chest ached in that beautiful, proud way. “I really liked your costume too, by the way.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. So cool.”

Now he heard Alex giggle quietly.

There was a rustle from the other side of room.

“What was that?” Alex squeaked, maybe a little too loud. Willie hoped he didn’t wake anyone.

“Probably just Luke on the couch. It makes sounds.”

“But not like that.” Alex turned on the mattress. “You don’t think it’s the monster from Luke’s story, do you?”

“What? No, don’t worry. That’s not real.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Yeah, how was Willie so sure?

“I—I just know. I have a skateboard, I know a lot. And I’m older than you.”

Alex swallowed audibly. “That’s true.”

There was another rustle. Alex let out a little yelp.

“Hey, it’s okay, that was Reggie,” Willie reassured immediately. He was sure that was Reggie.

“I don’t know.”

“Go to sleep, Alex. No monster can get to you when you’re asleep.”

“That’s stupid,” Alex muttered.

“Have you ever been surprised by a monster in your sleep?”

Alex hesitated. “No.”

“See? And it’s not gonna happen now.”

There was a silence. “Okay.”

“Good night, Alex.”

“Good night, Willie. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Willie turned onto his back and closed his eyes. He felt himself let out a slow breath, almost relieved that he and Alex were done talking. He always loved it, but he was weirdly nervous about it, and it was kind of exhausting. His heart beat was slowing down too. He closed his eyes, trying to calm his mind so he could fall asleep. It didn’t stay like that for long.

Alex on the mattress next to him wouldn’t stop turning underneath his blanket. There were more rustles coming from different parts of the room, all more or less obviously from their friends, but Alex always seemed to be a bit startled by them. Willie was actually getting a little worried.

“Willie? Are you asleep yet?” Alex asked eventually. Not even five minutes had passed.

“No,” Willie responded and opened his eyes. He didn’t even think about pretending. “Why?”

“I—I think Luke’s stories really got to me.”

Damn that. Willie was gonna have a word with that boy, going around scaring his friends to death with made up stories.

“You’re right, they were really scary,” Willie agreed. Maybe that could make Alex feel a little better.

Alex’s pillow rustled in a nod, then he sat up, blanket around his shoulders, looking over at Willie. He took a quick breath and let it out just as quickly. “Can I—can I maybe sleep on your mattress?” Willie felt himself squint against the ceiling. Why would Alex want to swap mattresses? “With you?”

Oh.

That made more sense.

“Of course,” Willie heard himself say before he could really think about it. But the answer would’ve been the same if he had thought a second longer. He scooted to one side of the mattress. “I have enough space.”

Alex hesitated for a moment longer but then shuffled closer. Their mattresses were pushed together, Flynn on Willie’s other side, so that it was kind of like a big mattress anyways. Willie lifted the corner of his blanket so that Alex could slip underneath it, even though he was still wrapped up in his own blanket. It seemed like he needed the comfort. Willie wanted to make him feel as safe as possible, so he placed his blanket arm around him as well, so that Alex was cocooned in a blanket and a half and a little bit of Willie.

“Nothing can happen to you now,” Willie whispered once their faces lay opposite each other on Willie’s pillow.

“No, nothing,” Alex confirmed.

“Do you feel safer now?” Willie asked.

Alex nodded. “Yes.” He paused. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Willie repeated and he couldn’t help but smile.

Here Alex was, ten years old, Captain America during the day. But at night he felt safer when he was sharing a mattress with someone and Willie had his arm around him. Willie heart may have picked up speed again, but he felt great. And even greater when he sleepily watched Alex drift to sleep, his face more peaceful than Willie had ever seen it.

Send me autumn prompts from this list.

#julie and the phantoms #willex #found family #they are middle schoolers in this #halloween #halloween prompts #linden writes stuff #lea tag #linden answers asks #willie jatp #alex mercer #julie molina #reggie peters #luke patterson #flynn taylor #their group costume theme is the avengers how cute is that??

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kkusuka · 4 years ago

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hiii I was wondering if you could do a threesome w kuroo bokuto and y/n?? plsss💞

i can actually, that’s the fun part.

(I'm going to try to use gender-neutral pronouns, but the reader has female anatomy, I hope that’s ok!)

I deadass just took this and ran with it oml.

All 18+, public sex, circumstantial humiliation, slight voyeurism, orgasm denial, threesome M/F/M, they’re both kind mean but not really, slight degrading

Synopsis: Your college chem class is kicking your ass so when your professor recommends you to Kuroo, who seems to come in a package deal with another owl-ish boy, you were more than thankful.

4/25

You couldn't believe it, you were so sure you had done well on this test. You made flashcards and even scoured the web for as many quizlets on the subject as you possibly could. But one thing remained the same: Masahiro sensei’s chemistry class was kicking your ass.

No matter how many times you looked at the reference tables and started at the elements you didn't understand a single word that came out of that man's mouth. What’s worse is that you seemed to be the only one who ever had trouble in his class, and he always made sure to let you know.

Side glances during lectures, calling you out when he knows you have no clue what the answer could be, talking about how 'some people’ would do better if they tried harder. You just didn't know what else to do.

So, in some twisted way, you were thankful when he requested to keep you a few minutes after class requesting to talk about some personal issues. Issues you wished would include a new grade and easier tests.

But him telling you about a boy with exceptional grades who would be a perfect fit to help you out, was something you had expected, but did not want. You felt more embarrassed than you already were, couldn't he just give you a website where you could watch videos about ionic and binary compounds?

Looking back to the phone number he had written for you on an index card, you relent. Sending a quick message to the number you shut your phone off and tried to get to your dorm, dropping onto your bed faster than you’d like to admit.

Hey, this is y/n l/n, Masahiro-sensei gave me your number for possible tutoring, if you're up for it of course. Any time for me works. 12:56 pm

Yeah, he let me know about a possible tutoring session, how about the library tomorrow at 4? 1:03 pm

I'm Kuroo Tetsurou btw. 1:07 pm

And like that your day got 10x worse, you don't even know who this way. You at least hoped it was the boy with the fluffy hair in the first row. At least Masahio told him, you assume it may have gone worse, tomorrow at the library at 4.

You could deal with that.

Your first meeting had gone fairly well. You arrived that the library entrance five minutes early reaching for your phone to let the mysterious Kuroo Tetsurou know that you had arrived, but before you could get that far-

“No need babe, I'm right here, L/n right?”

He was tall, taller than you at least. Tall enough to be able to lock down at you. Looking at you with his narrow hazel eyes and his sleazy yet comforting cat-like smile. His hands were shoved into the pockets of a bright red- volleyball jacket? Nekoma volleyball club must be from high school.

He led you to an isolated corner of the science section on the third floor, a place you had frequented during your mid-semester crying chemistry sessions-- hopefully your tears have dried up by now and you won't make a fool of yourself.

He wasted no time asking exactly what you need help with and seemed more than surprised when you told him everything. He let out a laugh that made you want to get up and run away before letting you know that it was normal to be confused and that you would just start with the electron configurations.

It was going great, he was an amazing teacher and knew exactly what to tell you to make you remember all the rules of the SPDF configurations and everything leading up to the oxidation states of the transition metals. It was just sad that he had to go over everything a second time just for you to get it in your mind.

In the middle of explaining lead’s second oxidation state, Kuroos phone lit up with a notification a Bokuto was calling. Without a second glance, he declined the call and went right to the first state of silver.

Three seconds in this same Bokuto called back after a few choice texts, letting out a sigh he apologized muting about a stupid owl not giving him a moment of rest no matter the time of day.

He picked up and tried to walk away as quick as he could, the only thing you could gain from the conversion was a

HEY HEY! you still at the library? Though you’d be done by now Kuroo!

To which Kuroo told whoever was on the end of the line, that he didn't mind and they should mind their own business. Then you were out of earshot. when he came back he looked as if the life was sucked from his soul.

He plopped into the chair across from you and sat for a second before releasing a deep breath. He looked back at you connecting eyes--they looked impossibly cat-like under the lights of the library-- before shooting you a shifty smirk.

“Babe you're doing great but I've gotta cut it off for today, and you don't mind if a friend joins us for the next few sessions? He isn't that bright.”

It took you of all five seconds to think of your answer, another person who wasn't the brightest will make you look less stupid. Just the thought made you feel bad, you're sure that Bokuto was a wonderful person, hopefully, and did not deserve to be used to make you seem less hopeless. Yet still,

“Yes! That’s totally fine, I'll see you in two days?”

“Sounds great”

“‘C'mon babe what's the dashed configuration of bromine?”

You didn't know, or maybe you did. It's not like that would matter considering the two fingers curling into your sweet spot. You could only focus on the way he rubbed your throbbing nub that sent sparks straight beach into your core.

“I-i I don’t- god, please, please, need to cum.” you were so close, Kuroo had already ripped two orgasms from you because you didn't know the answer, and you were going to scream if he did it again. “Please, wanna cum”

“No can do baby Owl, that’s the deal no cumming until you get the question.”

Bokuto.

You would have forgotten he was there if it weren't for his piercing gaze on Kuroo’s fingers drenched in your slick. Not once has it wavered from you, your silt to you tits up to your lips.

You had to try, he’ll stop. Somewhere in the back of your mind you know the answer, they know you know the answer. Somewhere else in your mind you think about how you got caught up in this in the first place.

How Kuroo was frustrated and told you the if you got another wrong answer he would fuck the right one into you. Or bokuto purposely mocking him that sent him further until his hands were pulling your panties down your legs stuffing two fingers in your cunt, saying how he won't stop until you get all the answers right.

“Two- e-eight- eight-teen- please please, si--six- NO seven, it’s seven. ‘M so close please”

Kuroo seemed pleased with your answer, his hands moving quickly around your bud and curling further into your g-spot as Bokuto makes his way around the table to where the two of you are seated.

Pulling the shirt above your head, Bokuto circles a nipple through the fabric of your bra commenting on how quickly it had pebbled, attaching his mouth to your other as Kuroo commanded you to cum around his relentless digits.

Clenching around his fingers you hadn't noticed a head of white and black hair moving towards your center. Coming off the high of your orgasm you felt Bokuto’s tongue spread your lips as his nose circled your clit.

“Oh, dude! You gotta taste ‘em! Like liquid gold, Man!”

You flushed further, if possible, tethering a hand into Bokuto's hair. Understanding the compliment Kuroo swiped a finger along your slick-covered thighs and let a mockingly loud moan fall between his lips.

As if you could be more embarrassed by the noises of Bokuto slurping whatever he could catch in his mouth, Kuroo’s coos of how red you look and how delicious you look, as the man under you eats as if it was his last meal.

Two hands grabbed your waist and lifted you off Bokuto, placing you back on your feet. Turing you toward the wall of windows and hand on your back bent you over the table surrounded by all of your notes.

“Look at that, she’s just gushing all over the place. All this over a chemistry lesson? Who knew I was teaching such a cockwhore this whole time.” a hand met your clit as Kuroo began to push into you, forcing you further into the table.

You heard a gasping moan as he bottomed out, glancing over to where Bokuto sat hand around the base of his cock, standing as Kuroo waved him over to you.

“I think you can fit two, right?” ��and just like that bokuto was forcing his way into your clenching walls. There was discomfort until a soft pop to which both the boys let out a sigh.

You feel so full. You didn't know who but one of them was brushing against your cervix. The first thrust came to you as a surprise, following with a second's rest before the two of them created a steady rhythm.

The faster they went the more apparent it was, they were using you like a fleshlight. You couldn't even speak as a cock hit right at your g-spot. Back arching you let out a series of small “ahs” much to Kuroo’s enjoyment.

“You fucking like this! Getting dicked where everyone can see. By two cocks no less!” he laughed pulling your head up from its place in your arms, making you have to look at your reflection in the glass.

“No-no I-” a smack to your ass stopped you from trying to defend what little dignity you had left. There was no defending as Bokuto leaned towards your ear, never breaking rhythm.

“No?,” he was practically snarling, “Then why the hell are you clenching our dicks so well, Baby Owl?”

As if he flipped a switch your world went dark as you clenched further on the two men as you came. Riding out your orgasm neither of them let up the pace as they jackhammered into your poor pussy.

Bokuto came first, with a loud groan of your name before he slumped into the chair he previously inhabited. Settling to watch as Kuroo pulled your chest up to meet your back to his chest. Rutting into you as his orgasm rapidly approaches.

If you weren't so sure this place was desolate you would be worried about someone hearing the slaps of your skin, or Kuroo’s final grunt as he filled you with his load, dropping you to lean on the table.

At least your next chemistry test was graded with a 21/25, you’re sure the two of them will love to hear about that.

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto smut #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq #hq smut #hq x reader #my brain went brrrrrrr #this is kinda all over the place #kinda bad but whatever

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legends-live-in-memories · 4 years ago

Text

Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century

AYO! Day 2 of MGI Trope Tussle! Team Enemies-to-Lovers for the win. I bring you another oneshot. but this time i used 3 prompts like a dumbass.

Fics Masterlist

Daminette Oneshot 4.3K words (no warnings except slight cursing)

Summary:

“Marinette is invited to the Super-Rockin' Wedding of the Century and she needs a date. Alya is both her best and worst wingman.”

Day 2 of MGI Trope Tussle, I used 3 prompts to make this thing: 1. "You don't have to like me, you just need to pretend you do." 2. "I like your costume. You look very cute." "Are you making fun of me?" 3. 'Write about a very unusual wedding proposal.' this is the culmination of all my efforts.

without further ado:

It was the biggest news on the internet. Global sensation, international rockstar, Jagged Stone, was officially engaged to childhood friend turned manager, Penny Rolling. Memes and fan theories stormed every corner of the web. Trending topics including #rockstar_wedding and #RollingStone permeated every social media platform. Guest lists were speculated, dress designers were tagged in every post that even mentioned the words ‘wedding’ or ‘bride’. It was total mayhem but none felt it worse than up-and-coming Parisian designer, M. D. Cheng, privately known as Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

The young adult was up to her neck in design templates, and was drowning in half-baked ideas and sketches. While the internet has only heard about the proposal for a solid two weeks at this point, Marinette was in the know for six months. Jagged Stone had contacted her in advance because he needed her help with the proposal itself.

And what a proposal it was.

Jagged had outlined his idea in simple terms but it was still so mind-boggling that Marinette needed him to draw some visual aids to completely convey his idea. Initially it sounded simple enough but the more the man spoke, the more Marinette felt her brain fry at the mental picture. It first involved recreating a scene from Penny’s favourite movie. Which sounded rather romantic, if you ignored the fact that her favourite movie was Bride of Chucky. Then it involved Jagged dressed as the Tinman from Wizard of Oz. Oh, and the proposal had to happen on Halloween because that was the anniversary of their first date apparently, and based on everything else this plan entailed it might as well have been. Marinette’s role in all of this was to simply re-make the white wedding dress Chucky’s bride, Tiffany, wore because Penny already had the leather jacket to match. Of course she did. She didn’t even want to know how Jagged acquired the Tinman suit. Not her barrel of monkeys.

While many thought Jagged was the eccentric one of the pair, due to his loud personality and being an actual rockstar, the more Marinette worked for the two of them over the years, the more she learned how absolutely wrong they all were. It turned out it was Penny’s idea for Jagged to dye his hair purple, and she was the one to ask him out on Halloween all those faithful years ago. Her calm and collected demeanor was an impressive cover for the absolute weirdo she actually was. And Jagged had planned a proposal that was undoubtedly perfect for her. Regardless of how abso-fucking-lutely bizarre it was.

To each their own and let’s move on.

The set-up for the proposal started with Jagged, dressed as the Tinman, playing the part of Chucky, who begins the body-switching chant from the movie. Everything from that point on was resting on Penny’s love for the movie. Without hesitating, Penny, dressed as Tiffany, and playing her part, knew the lines by heart and immediately began reenacting the scene with Jagged. Her lines involved telling ‘Chucky’ to kiss her while she reaches for a knife that’s supposed to be in his pocket. Instead, as Jagged was still dressed as the Tinman, Penny pulled out a slip of paper. On said paper, the words ‘All the Tinman wanted was a heart’ were written in Jagged’s almost illegible chicken scratch. When Penny was distracted with the piece of paper, Jagged had gotten down on one knee and pulled out the engagement ring. The actual words of his proposal were never actually said because, upon seeing the ring, Penny flung herself into the man, clipping her chin into his metal-plated shoulder, but she wasn’t complaining.

So that was how the proposal went.

Wedding planning started almost immediately since the newly engaged had already picked a theme. And this is where Marinette began to regret every life choice she has made since she was thirteen; starting with opening the mysterious box she found on her desk and ending with agreeing to being the main designer for the Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. One thing that wasn’t well-known but not a secret about Jagged was that he was a superhero fan. He grew up enjoying the fictional ones in his childhood comic books and he adored the real ones he witnessed in his adult life. His song that he dedicated to the teenage Ladybug was only one part of his… appreciation. His hero-worship went so far as to beieve that a hero-themed wedding was appropriate. Or he didn’t, but also didn’t care about adhering to societal propriety and went with that theme anyways. So the Rockin’ Wedding of the Century was now the Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. And twenty-three year old Marinette was incharge of the entire wedding party’s outfits.

Perfect.

As a small mercy from some god, both the bride and groom to-be had a rather short list of people in their parties. Marinette was also able to design appropriate hero-themed outfits for all of them and scheduled them for fittings in the coming weeks. That, surprisingly, was the easy part as there were plenty of heroes to draw inspiration from. However, that wasn’t the cause of her current crisis right now.

No. Marinette was up to her neck in unnecessary designs and ideas because she’s been avoiding one particular contingency in her acceptance of the wedding invitation.

She needed a date.

She needed a date because she had promised Penny that she wasn’t overworking herself and to prove it, she would bring a date to the wedding. Rather than call any of the people who expressed interest in her at some point in time, she designated herself to wallow in her situation and distract herself with designs. In the midst of her one person pity party, her phone rang under the sea of ripped out pages. She scoured for the device and hastily answered before she could accidently send the caller to voicemail.

“Hello?” She didn’t check the caller ID and was delighted at the sound of her best friend answering her.

“Marinette! How’s it going over there?” Alya’s voice was mixed in with the busy street life of Metropolis. She had moved there immediately after high school, snatching an internship with the Daily Planet and attending the local community college. She and Marinette don’t call often due to time differences, but when they do it’s like they’ve never parted. She always looked forward to her calls.

“It’s going great, Als,” if she ignored her current dilemma, then yeah, everything was perfect. “But you wouldn’t happen to have an available bachelor willing to be my date to the ‘Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century’ in your back pocket, would you?”

Alya’s answering laugh was both comforting and teasing and Marinette felt herself missing her even more. What she said next, however, took Marinette by surprise.

“Actually I do.”

“Pardon?”

“Well,” she took a pause to build suspense. “I know a guy who knows a guy. But it’s nothing shady, I swear.”

“That’s not comforting.” Oh god. What has she unintentionally signed herself up for?

“You know my coworker, Jon? The guy who does the photography for all my field work?” Alya had met Jon as soon as she had started her internship. Both of his parents were top journalists at the Daily Planet so he volunteered to act as tour guide for all the new interns. He and Alya, from the exasperated stories Marinette has heard from Nino, got along like a house on fire. If he was involved, Marinette was starting to doubt even further that this was going to end well for her.

“Yes, I know Jon. How is he by the way?”

“He’s fine, but I remember him telling me how he tried to set up his best friend on several dates over the years and how they all ended poorly. He’s as approachable as a brick wall; not just a prick but the whole damn cactus. Or so Jon says.” How does that sound like someone Marinette wanted to bring along with her to the wedding? “But he’s totally your type so I could ask Jon to wrap him up in bubblewrap and send him your way whenever you want.”

“How,” and Marinette said this with a lot of feeling, “is he my type exactly?”

“Green eyes with daddy issues.”

“ALYA!” Marinette was absolutely floored at her bluntness. She wasn’t even sorry about shouting into the receiver.

“Am I wrong? You have a type and he fits that type. Jon mentioned how this guy and his dad hit several roadblocks when they first met. And I’ve seen pictures of him so ‘green eyes’ checks too.”

“That is not my type of guy.” She can’t believe this was how this conversation was going.

“Adrien.”

“I didn’t even know who his father was at the time, Alya.”

“Felix.”

“His dad is dead! That doesn’t count as ‘daddy issues.’” She can feel her cheeks flaming as the call went on. Any hotter and she was going to set her sketchbooks on fire. “Besides, I dated Luka so he doesn’t fit the criteria.”

“He’s an outlier and that’s only because his eyes are blue.” Okay, fine she had a type. “And besides, you don’t even have to date the guy. You only need him to accompany you to the wedding and you both go your separate ways after. No harm, no foul.”

Right. That was true. No strings attached. She could do that.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but,” she held her breath and let it out loudly, ignoring Alya’s chuckle at her dramatics.” Give Jon my number to give this guy. And send his number to me.”

“Wahoo! Look at you, girl,” Alya was hooting and hollering over the speaker and Marinette found herself going along with the theatrics. “Okay, I will. But I gotta go, my cab is here. Bye!”

“Bye! Stay safe. Oh before you go, what’s Jon’s friend’s name anyways?”

“Uh, Damian, I think.” The call ended before Marinette could respond, but it was okay she mused. Tossing her phone onto her couch, she flopped down onto her floor and stared at her ceiling contemplatively.

What could go wrong?

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

When Alya had described this Damian guy as ‘not just a prick but the whole damn cactus,’ she was right. Marinette had been texting back and forth with Damian for a month, and the guy was making this idea seem less and less worth it by the day. Whenever Marinette tried to learn more about the guy, he would ghost her for days on end before replying with a half-assed response at best. She knew nothing about him other than that his first name was Damian and that he was from Gotham. She had no idea how the ball of life that was Jon was even friends with someone like Damian. She asked as much to Alya in their most recent call.

“How did they even meet?” She was pacing the floor plan of her apartment, ready to tear her hair out. “Did Damian bully him in school or something?”

“Apparently their dads knew each other and introduced them,” Alya sounded half awake, stifling a yawn; probably because Marinette had called her at 1 am, Metropolis’s time. “Their brothers being friends also forced them to get along.”

“And that’s another thing!” Marinette had paused in her pacing and was now staring intently at a potted plant in the corner of her living room. Any more rage in her glare and the plant would have wilted and died. “He doesn’t tell me anything about him. I don’t need to know all his personal information, but if he’s going to be flying out to Paris on my behalf, I think I at least deserve to know his last name.”

“Hey, M,” another yawn echoed through the speaker, “I love you, truly, but maybe this could wait for holier day time hours?”

“I guess,” a vindictive part of Marinette felt like this was payback for all those inopportune calls when Marinette was busy with clients. “Sorry for interrupting your sleep.”

“It’s no big deal. But have you tried talking to him about it? If he’s ghosting your texts, try calling him. If he ignores you then too then maybe you should try finding another person to be your plus one.”

“The wedding is in two weeks, Alya!” Marinette partially regrets waiting so long to vent her frustration about the situation but she had tried to tough it out. “I would have much preferred if you were my plus one. You sure there’s no way to convince your parents to skip out on the family trip?”

“Sorry, M. Once the news about the proposal hit the internet, I tried everything. I even tried to use work, saying that I could cover the ceremony for the newspaper. My folks won’t budge though. My dad’s aunt is important to him and he wants us all at the funeral.”

“Right, right, I forgot about that.” Now she felt like an ass. “Send you dad my condolences when you see him again.”

“Will do. Good morning, Marinette. And don’t worry too much about the guy. Everything will turn up great. I can feel it.”

“Thanks, Alya. Good night, get some sleep.”

The line went dead and Marinette let out a rather weary exhale. She had no idea how this was going to work. She pulled up her contacts and searched for what she had Damian saved as.

‘Douche’ flashed on her screen and she hit the call button without remorse. She didn’t care that it was also currently 1 am in Gotham. He didn’t deserve that much consideration from her.

“What?” His voice was gravely and deep. And also really pissed if his clipped tone was anything to go by.

“Damian? Hi, this is Marinette, the girl you’re accompanying to the wedding in two weeks?” Her voice was pitched as if she was dealing with an irritating customer. Fake and polite.

“I know who you are. Why are you calling me at this unreasonable hour?” Fair, but Marinette was still aggravated at him so she wouldn’t concede.

“I’m calling because we need to talk.” She heard him scoff over the line and she felt her blood boil even hotter. She took several calming breaths to reign her temper in. “Don’t hang up.”

“Look,” She didn’t give him a chance to refuse and kept talking, getting everything off her chest. “This wedding is important to me and I promised the bride I would bring a date. After that you can delete my number and we never have to speak to each other ever. You don’t have to like me, you just need to pretend you do.”

“Whatever,” he sounded less annoyed from when he first answered the phone. “I will act as cordial as the situation requires, and nothing more. I also have my attire secured for the wedding and accommodations in Paris already prepared. I will see you at the wedding.”

“Than—” The sound of the call ending interrupted her and her frustration was back tenfold. With a cry in anguish she flung her phone onto her couch and stomped into her kitchen to channel her rage into baking.

Three loaves of bread and a dozen eclairs later, Marinette felt calm enough to finish the final touches on her outfit for the wedding.

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

It was the day of the Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. The Rolling-Stone’s, as they were asking to be called, had kept the ceremony small. Relatively. Only two hundred invited guests, few of which were asked to bring a plus one. Marinette was over the moon at the array of outfits people were sporting. Some chose full-on cosplay while others, like herself, went for more subtle nods to the heroes. In honour of a previous Ladybug, Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, Marinette based her outfit off of Wonder Woman’s uniform, Hippolyta’s daughter. A navy blue sequined halter top bodice that flows into a blood red A-line skirt. She paired it with a thick silver belt, silver gladiator heels rather than boots and broad silver arm cuffs. It was simple but effective. Besides, all attention should be on the bride and groom today.

A tap on her shoulder caught her attention and she turned only to come face first with red with black spots. Ladybug. Someone chose her as inspiration. How flattering. Looking up to see who was wearing the Ladybug-themed suit jacket, she stared at a pair of deep forest green eyes and a sneer to ruin that ridiculously handsome face. She recognized him from the photo Alya had sent some time ago. Damian.

“Hi, Damian,” at least one of them had to be civil and Marinette knew it was going to be her. But the idea that of all the heroes for him to choose from he chose her sent her into poorly stifled fits of giggling. Images of him going ‘Lucky Charm’ and ‘Miraculous Ladybug’ were almost too much to bear.

“I don’t know what’s so amusing about my choice of attire,” his face was starting to flush in similar shades to his jacket and that made Marinette laugh harder. “Ladybug is a well respected heroine and I thought it appropriate to pay homage while in her home city.”

“No. No no. There is nothing wrong with it. I like your costume, you look very cute.”

“Are you making fun of me?” His irritation was rather cathartic for the still giggling woman.

“No, I just didn’t think you would have put that much thought into your outfit for today. You always gave me the impression that you were ready to back out at any time.”

“I made a commitment and I had all intentions to see it through the end.”

“Could have fooled me.” And her snark was back. Now was not the time to pick a fight with the guy, he did fly all the way to Paris on her behalf after all.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” and Marinette wanted to know how he managed to sound so condescending with that statement. “How did you even get an invitation to this wedding anyways? You’re not a celebrity and you don’t look like family either.”

“Actually,” she said it with more force than what was probably necessary but his slightly accusatory tone was just so irritating. “I am the lead designer for the wedding party,” her chest was swimming with confidence at the chance to talk about her job. “I’ve worked with the bride and groom for years; M. D. Cheng, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette will deny to her grave the rush of satisfaction at the absolute gobsmacked look on Damian’s face. A real fish out of water. Mouth open wide ready to catch flies. She wished she could capture this moment forever.

The moment was over too soon because Damian was regaining his composure and slipping into his default stoic expression. He cleared his throat and fixed a look at Marinette. It was rather intense.

“I believe I owe you an apology then.” He looked put-out at admitting something so menial. “I believed you were nothing more than a socialite chain climber.”

“A what?”

“When Jon reached out to me saying that a friend of one of his coworkers needed a date for an event, and when that event turned out to be the wedding of someone of such popularity, I figured you were only trying to increase your own social status by showing up with me on your arm.”

“And you said ‘yes’ anyways?” Marinette was confused but pieces of the mystery that is Damian were starting to fit in place. But something else stuck out as odd to her. “Also, how would you being my date increase my social status anyhow?”

He scoffs before answering. Bitch.

“What? It wouldn’t be the first time one of Jon’s set-ups ended that way. Besides, we’ve had an agreement that I can’t turn down an offer until meeting the person face to face.” Weird deal but some friendships are just like, Marinette supposes. “And being seen with me is enough to make anyone more popular.”

“...And you are?”

“Damian… Wayne…” He spoke as if he was talking to a small child. As if it should be obvious who he was like he was some celeb— Oh shit.

A name had flashed into her mind. On the finalised guest list, Marinette had only seen it once in passing, there was a name that belonged to someone Jagged was rather excited to see. He said the friend was an old college buddy. She remembered that much. She had completely forgotten that ‘a billionaire playboy’ was also attached to the name. Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne. Suddenly everything in the past few months made perfect sense. The cold shoulder, the ghosting, and his prickly disposition. He was overly guarded because he had justified reasons to be. Now she felt like an ass.

“Oh.” Real intelligent, Marinette.

“Oh? What, you didn’t know?” He sounded incredulous at the notion and he had every right to be. Marinette could only shake her head. Words were failing her now, her brain trying to rewrite the memories of every interaction the two ever had.

She was saved from further mortification by a call for everyone to find their seats. The wedding was about to begin.

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

The ceremony was beautiful. Penny’s dress was a silver grey, tied back with a golden belt. Instead of a long train, Marinette had attached a black cape that shimmered in the right lighting. Penny wore a tiara with two peaks to imitate the ‘bat-ears.’ A Batman-themed wedding dress was not something she ever saw herself making, but she was proud at how beautiful and confident Penny looked in it. Jagged was adorn in a royal blue suit with bold red lapels. He also had a matching red cape. His hair was styled in the familiar sleek way Superman wears it. The two made quite the pair.

The reception was a lively affair. Jagged had dedicated several songs to his new wife and they dazzled the crowd on the dance floor. Marinette didn’t pay much attention to the speeches beyond a quick glance at Damian when his own father stepped up to the podium. He had buried his head in his hands, looking like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. A courtesy pat on the back was all Marinette gave to him.

The two hadn’t really spoken much since the revelation that they had completely misjudged each other. The awkward tension was almost palpable. As Marinette was gathering the courage to speak to him, to try and officially clear the air, she was being dragged by one of the bridesmaids onto the dancefloor. It was time for the bride to throw the bouquet. All the unmarried women were being corralled into a tight cluster and Marinette got swept up in the tide.

Marinette wasn’t focusing on the actual game, trying her hardest not to get trampled, when she saw something move in her periphery. Years of being Ladybug had left her with finely honed instincts so she could not be blamed when she immediately jumped and caught the incoming object. The bouquet. She had caught the bouquet. Oh that was just her luck. Deafening squeals of delight brought her out of her own head and she was suddenly being embraced in Penny’s arms. She returned the hug, sharing in her delight, before breaking away to sit down.

“Nice catch.” His voice had surprised her, she hadn’t expected him to speak to her for the rest of the night.

“Uh, thank you. Just lucky, I guess.” Damian didn’t get the chance to respond because he was being dragged by his own father to join all the bachelors in catching the garter. Marinette was equally uninterested in this spectacle and had let her mind wander to other things.

A loud uproar caught her attention again and her eyes zeroed in on Damian holding the tossed garter. He made his way back over to her, dropping himself into his seat gracelessly. The two sat in silence, contemplating the implications of them both catching the garter and bouquet. The games were done purely for tradition’s sake, with total disregard of what it was supposed to symbolise. Still. One’s mind couldn’t help but wander. Minutes ticked passed and Marinette was beginning to wonder if someone was going to talk about the elephant in the room.

“So,” Damian’s voice was slightly strained, like he wasn’t used to being this flustered. It was kind of endearing. Wait what?

“So.”

“While marriage seems far out of reach for right now,” Oh god. He was going to talk about it. “How does dinner sound, next Friday?”

“Wait,” he wanted to spend more time with her? After their disastrous first impressions? “Really?”

“Really. I believe we started off on the wrong foot,” he let out a soft chuckle, almost self-deprecating. “Which isn’t really new for me, but it’s not everyday I meet someone who doesn’t recognise me at first glance. I think you’re someone who I would like to get to know better. If that is something you are also interested in.”

“Yeah,” Marinette knows all about wanting to get acquainted with someone who she’s had a bad first impression of. Just look at her past relationships. Wow, she really does have a type. Damning thoughts for later. “Friday works for me. Seven pm?”

“Perfect. I’ll text you the details then.”

“Wonderful, I can’t wait.”

The rest of the evening was spent in companionable silence with small bouts of conversation in between. They shared a couple dances on the floor and parted ways at the end of the night with budding anticipation for Friday.

As Marinette was preparing for bed that night in the comfort of her apartment, she sent a text to Alya that her friend would see later in the day.

You were right, I do have a type :(

#maribat #daminette #maridami #mgi trope tussle #mgi- server event #enemies to lovers #speedrun #i #like a dumbass challenged myself to use three prompts and i delivered #i hope #i hope yall enjoy #tumblr do me a solid #dont hide my posts #please #im begging #ml x dc #mlb x dc #tumblr please stop hiding my posts #no beta this is tussle

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peterrparrkerr · 3 years ago

Text

Oviposition - read on ao3

*-*

Tony waits until he's sure everyone is asleep before making his way to the lab. He's not been able to stop thinking about the arachnid since he'd arrived.

It had started out as curiosity -a boy more insect than human, with pitch black eyes and four extra legs sprouting from his spine. He was a character straight out of a comic book.

They were testing him -trying to see how it was he got to be what he is, and in that testing, Tony found things that only drew him in more.

Tony's team found out a lot in the few months they had him. His senses were all dialed to an eleven, so he could hear, smell and see things Tony couldn't. He could feel individual threads in almost every fabric offered to him, and could list every ingredient in his food with complete accuracy.

His eyes -though terrifying and demonic looking when the boy got upset- made him look almost cute when he tilted his head to the side.

Tony swiped his key card and pulled the door open when the little red light switched to green. The lab had an eery blue glow to it when the white florescent lights weren't on.

He makes his way on silent feet across the lab to the cell they had kept the boy in. He couldn't help it. There was no talking himself out of it.

He needed- he needed to see the boy.

They'd discovered something about their arachnid friend that had Tony aching for it. He hadn't herb able to sleep, too busy imagining it. Imagining his gut filled with the eggs the boy apparently carried instead of semen.

He stops at the cell door, peering inside. The ten by ten space is covered in webbing. Spun from the boy himself.

In the top right corner is a tunnel, big enough to crawl through and leading to what Tony can only assume is his nest.

They'd tested the webbing too, and Tony couldn't help but look at the webs in awe.

Tony takes a deep breath, then swipes his card.

There's a click, the red light flickers green, and then Tony's stepping inside. He makes sure to close it behind him, locking them both inside.

There's movement above him. Tony looks up, tracking the sounds as the boy moves from his spot in his webbed nest to the tunnel.

Tony barely makes out the shining eyes at the tunnel's entrance. They reflect the blue light terrifyingly.

"Hello, Peter," Tony greets softly, as to not spook the boy.

There's a second or two where the boy doesn't move, and then two spider legs emerge from the dark, gripping the wall and his webbing. Two more come out next, and then Peter is coming out, crawling across the wall like something out of the exorcist.

Tony had gotten used to it, but at night, it sets Tony's heart rate spiking and the hairs of his arms on end.

When Peter is close enough to the ground, he drops onto his feet. He's wearing nothing but a pair of black basketball shorts -they couldn't get him into anything else.

Peter's extra limbs tuck themselves behind him, nearly making him look like a regular teenager.

"Tony," Peter greets, voice an odd inflection of boy and not-quite-human. It sends a shiver through Tony. His cock twitches in interest.

Tony doesn't know how to start. He just knows he wants. He wants to see his stomach bulge with Peter's seed, and he'll do anything to get it.

"You want something," the boy hummed, head tilted to the side. Perceptive little thing.

"Yes," Tony said, sounding breathless.

Peter straightens his head, peering up at Tony, blinking as he tries to figure it out. "What?"

Tony doesn't know how to say it. Doesn't know if Peter's human enough to realize how inappropriate this is. But Tony can't back down now. If he does, it'll drive him crazy.

So, instead of answering, Tony pulls his tank top off over his head, dropping it with the key card down onto the floor, just outside the cage.

Peter watches silently. Calculating.

Tony hooks his thumbs into the striped pajama pants and drops them to his ankles.

It must be the thing that cues Peter in, because suddenly, the boy is moving for him. Its fast -inhumanly so- and Tony doesn't have any time to react beside gasping.

Bare chests press together, and Peter's arms wrap around Tony, lifting him off the ground as those extra limbs lift them into the air.

Tony suddenly pictures himself in a webbed cocoon, waiting to be Peter's meal. Theres a reason Peter stays behind metal bars, and Tony suddenly wishes he had thought more with his head than his cock.

But then they're on the ceiling -Tony laying on Peter's chest, the boy holding them parallel to the ceiling.

"You want to mate?" Peter asks, looking at Tony with blinking, curious black eyes. Tony's surprised those four limbs have the strength to hold them both up. He refuses to look anywhere but at Peter -even if it is only a ten foot drop, he'd rather not fall.

"Yes," is what Tony says before he can stop himself. Something filters through Peter's features, and just as suddenly as Tony blinks, the boy has him turned over, so his back is pressed into Peter's chest.

Tony's breath hitches, feeling Peter's growing cock between his cheeks already, through the fabric of his shorts.

Peter crawls across the ceiling towards the tunnel, the two of them disappearing inside.

Tony's so hard it hurts. He allows Peter to manhandle him into the position of his choosing.

The webbing -although slightly sticky- is surprisingly soft and pliant to Tony's weight as Peter settles him onto his stomach, crawling over top of him, with two extra legs on either side.

"My mate," Peter hums lowly, nosing at Tony's spine. Tony can't do anything but nod, lifting his ass until its pushing against Peter's clothed crotch.

He gets his knees under him, rubbing himself against Peter, trying to get Peter in motion.

It works. The boy shoves his shorts down and kicks them to the side, adapting arms around Tony's waist and rutting into Tony's crack.

"Mine," Peter murmured against the skin of Tony's shoulder.

"Yours," Tony confirmed on a groan. He needs to be filled. Its almost agony not having Peter buried deep inside him. "Mate me, Peter."

And that's all the direction Peter needs.

Tony's suddenly glad he fucked himself on his fingers before coming here. There's no preparation as Peter presses into Tony.

Tony chokes on a cry as the mushroom head of Peter's cock pops in past his rim. Peter doesn't stop there though, he presses in until he's buried at the hilt.

"Oh God," Tony groaned. Peter keeps both arms around Tony's middle, keeping his hips in the air.

His extra legs allow Peter to hover over him as he begins to thrust in and out of Tony, hips snapping and balls slapping against Tony.

Tony can't help the punched out moans from falling from his mouth. Peter's much bigger than Tony expected, and he can feel everything.

"My mate," Peter gasped lowly, hips pistoning into Tony in a toe curling pace. He fights the urge to let his eyes roll back into his head at the constant pounding of his prostate.

"You want to carry my offspring?" Peter asked, mouth at Tony's ear. "Want to see you so full with them."

Tony groans at the thought and clenches around Peter, driving his own hips back to meet Peter's.

"Yes, God yes, please, fill me up til I'm bursting," Tony nearly begged, neglected cock drooling pre-cum at the thought.

Peter picks up the pace, assaulting Tony's asshole and prostate without mercy.

Tony can't help the onslaught of moans and whimpers and unintelligible mumbles that fall past his lips, chest dropping to the webbed flooring, hips rolling up to allow Peter deeper.

His breath hitches when he feels Peter climax. Its so much different than any orgasm Tony's felt before.

He feels the first egg pass from Peter, then the second. Each significant in size. Tony feels his cock throb painfully at the feeling.

"Yes, fill me up, God please!" Tony sobbed, rocking back onto Peter's cock.

The boy grunts, panting as he thrusts into Tony, emptying himself.

Its not long before Tony begins to feel full, his stomach tight, but not yet extended. He reaches a hand down, palm flat against his abdomen.

"More, keep going," Tony breathed, clenching around Peter, trying desperately to squeeze every last egg from Peter's sack.

"Going to be so full," Peter moaned, more eggs filling Tony up.

Tony feels his orgasm fast approaching as his stomach begins to bulge. Peter keeps going, keeps emptying himself deep inside Tony.

Tony whimpers at the feeling, the hand on his stomach moving to stroke at his cock. It only takes three passes before he's cumming with a reedy mewl, stomach still extending impossibly far.

"Gonna carry my babies," Peter grunted. Tears gather in Tony's eyes at the stretch in his abdomen. He feels ready to burst. It feels so fucking good.

Its almost too much for Tony, the extention of his belly stretching at his skin. It feels like he's being ripped apart from the inside.

And then Peter stills, gasping for breath. Tony chokes on air, trying to even his own breathing.

Peter pulls out, and Tony feels like he's gaping, cool air hitting his exposed asshole and making him shiver.

Peter manhandles Tony onto his back, hovering over him with those extra limbs. Tony can't help but look down at his stomach, raised and rounded with Peter's eggs.

His hands move to it, smoothing over the bump. His cock twitches at the idea.

Peter seems to be thinking the same, because he leans over, nosing at Tony's neck, his own hands pressing into Tony's extended stomach.

"So full," he hums. Tony hums in agreement, removing one hand from his belly in order to grab Peter by the jaw.

He doesn't know if Peter knows what a kiss is, but the need to taste Peter's tongue is too great to wait and explain.

He guides Peter's face up, then connects their lips. Peter's frozen for a moment, not sure. Tony licks inside his mouth, hands still on his belly.

"My mate," Peter repeated between kisses.

"Your mate," Tony agreed.

Tony walks with a hand under the slight bulge of his stomach, back to his room. He clenches to keep the eggs inside -wanting to feel them for as long as he can.

Tony's already set his mind on going back the following night, and every night for as long as he can.

#marvel #peter parker #tony stark #starker #my writing #ao3 #sfsummerbingo21 #nff

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sserpente · 4 years ago

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A/N: Requests from two anons. No crying involved but definitely an anxiety-inducing situation for RC if that makes any sense. Enjoy! ♥

Words: 2118 Warnings: brief mention of past abusive relationship, attempted rape

“Honey, don’t you think you have enough candy by now? Who’s gonna eat all that?”

“Me!” Your niece stuck out her tongue as she half-walked, half-jumped through one of the many dimly-lit hallways. Her pumpkin basket was full to the brim already but, as you had suspected, there was no stopping her. You did not mind. You weren’t exactly keen on the annual Dauntless Halloween party in the pit. Lots of alcohol, sweaty bodies and so much fake blood it would take you weeks to get it all out of your clothes, off of your body and your hair. You didn’t hate Halloween, in fact you loved it. But you would rather curl up on the sofa in your tiny apartment reading a good book instead of drinking yourself into a coma.

Your niece looked unbelievably cute in her witch costume. Long ginger hair stuck out from under the pointy hat with the fluffy spider sitting on top. She’d had a little black broom as well—and you were not surprised you had had to keep carrying it after only three apartments already.

She was bound to get tired soon, so you kept telling yourself. You could already see yourself becoming a blanket burrito with a steaming mug full of hot chocolate and some of the leftover sweets you yourself had bought for the other children prior to trick or treating with your niece. You were so lost in thought that you only realised too late she had already started at the next apartment door and gave it a vigorous knock.

“Honey, no, not this one!” Shit. Only a few heartbeats later, the door opened.

“Trick or Treat!” She cried out. She was grinning as she held out her pumpkin basket, waiting patiently for her next victim to give her even more sweets. Only the person who had opened her hardly seemed impressed and instead raised an eyebrow at her. Eric used one of his muscly arms to lean against the threshold, his gaze wandering back and forth between your niece and you.

No one ever dared to knock on Eric’s door, presuming he would breathe down their neck for even considering he would give out candy to enthusiastic little children. Unfortunately, your niece did not know that.

Eventually, his gaze came to rest on you.

“I am so sorry, she was too fast.”

“What happened to your face?” He asked instead of reacting to your half-hearted apology. Oh, right. Embarrassed, you felt your cheeks turning crimson red. You had let your niece put some Halloween make-up on you. There was a giant spider with big orange eyes sitting on your right cheek while she had decorated the left with a black spider web. One thing was for sure, your niece would not become the next Picasso.

“Nothing… my niece thought we should match.” And perhaps next Halloween, she should turn you into a mouse so you could hide in a mouse hole to save yourself from Eric’s scrutinising—and now also downright amused—glance. There was a slight hint of mockery sparkling in his blue eyes as well, so you noticed when he stirred.

“Let me see if I can find something.” Oh. That was unexpected. As he disappeared, leaving his apartment door open, you just stood there dumbfounded all the while your niece tripped on the spot all carefree and blithe. This wasn’t really happening, was it? This was literally your nightmare before Christmas!

About a minute later, Eric returned. In his hands, he held a massive bar of Hershey’s chocolate. It was one of those treats only the leaders of Dauntless were privileged enough to receive every now and then. Your niece’s jaw dropped, eyes widening.

“There you go. You think you’ll be able to carry that?”

“Yes! I’m strong!” She pointed out, emphasising her words by making a muscle with her free arm. “Thank you!” As soon as she had accepted the chocolate, she was already off to the next apartment door. Only you still stood there, seemingly frozen in place.

“Uh… thank you.” You managed to choke out sheepishly.

“You’re welcome…” He mumbled in response. “I’ll see you at the party later.” And with that, he closed the door on you, once again leaving you standing there completely dumbfounded.

You had seen him around on Halloween. Eric never dressed up. Instead, he spent the night sitting at the bar all by himself, occasionally chatting to his fellow leaders and sipping some whiskey—completely unimpressed by his fellow Dauntless members’ craziness and excessive alcohol consumption. In that aspect, he was pretty much like you.

You spent the rest of your niece’s trick or treating pondering over his words. You were certainly overthinking it but what exactly had he meant by that? Did he expect you to show up? You had not planned on going. Would it be rude not to show up now? Jesus, it wasn’t like he had asked you out on a date. Eric was merely not as cold and condescending towards you than to others, perhaps because you always made an effort to be nice and polite to him, especially during your initiation.

And yet, once your niece was returned to your sister and you finally rid yourself of all that make-up on your face, you found yourself picking out something to wear to the party. It was almost like your hot chocolate, book and blanket sighed when you left your apartment and headed to the pit instead.

Halloween was on a full moon this year. Maybe you were going crazy. What were you even expecting? In the end, you settled for wanting to prove to Eric that you were a social person who would not curl up all alone on a day like Halloween—that you were tough; that you were Dauntless.

But you were beginning to regret your decision as soon as you reached the pit. Exuberant laughter and chatting along with loud music nearly blew your ears off, the smell of sweat and alcohol immediately numbing your senses. You coughed a little as you started fighting your way through the dancing crowd, your legs stirring you towards the bar almost automatically. Yep, definitely crazy, you thought to yourself.

At least your make-up was a little more on fleek now. You had gone for a mysterious vamp-look, with smoky eyes and dark-red lipstick, a black dress and your knee-high combat boots to complete your appearance. You felt quite sexy but then again, nothing could quite compete with some cosy pumpkin pyjamas.

“Hey, sweetheart… Can I buy you a drink?” Great. There went another reason for which you hated parties like that. Glancing to your left from the corner of your eye, you spotted an already tipsy man dressed up like a zombie approaching you.

“No, thank you. I can pay for it myself.”

“Don’t have to. I’ll pay for it if you’ll dance with me.”

“No, thank you.” You repeated, a little louder and sterner this time. But instead of letting it go, the man stepped right in front of you. He looked still young, probably among the new recruits who had recently passed initiation.

“What are you so scared of? It’s just a drink.” Only ‘just a drink’ was usually accompanied by the expectation of more than just dancing. You were not wary because of prejudice. You were wary because of personal experience in your old faction and an abusive ex-boyfriend.

“Come on, Drake.” The young man joining him was dressed like a zombie as well. They had done well with their make-up. They were nearly unrecognisable. “It’s not your fault you look like a troll. Allow me to buy the lady a drink.”

Annoyed, you rolled your eyes. “I appreciate it but I don’t want either of you to buy me a drink. Let me through, please.” Perhaps you should go find your friends.

Oh, it had been such a stupid idea to ditch hot chocolate and your warm blanket for this, for Eric. But whatever had gotten into you, you were too stubborn to accept the consequences. Only when you attempted to move past them, they cornered you. Two warm bodies pressed against you, one from the front, one from behind. You shuddered when their hands made a move to wander up and down your arms and waist, moving to the rhythm of the ear-piercing music—and even though everything inside of you screamed to lash out at them and make use of your combat skills, you forced yourself to keep calm.

“Let go of me, you scumbags.” You hissed. You’d give them ten seconds at most. If they did not let go of you until then you would kick the shit out of them. One, two, three…

“You’re in Dauntless, act like it.” They were not entirely wrong, so you hated to admit. The majority of men and women here in Dauntless made no secret out of their countless one-nightstands. Sneaking off and making out in semi-public places was risky, reckless and brave all at the same time—even your friends had told you about the adrenaline rush.

Four, five, six…

“She said no.” A stern voice suddenly came to your rescue. You did not need to turn around to know who it belonged to. Eric stood like a particularly intimidating bouncer. You could practically feel the heat radiating off of his body as he positioned himself behind you with his arms crossed.

“Eric! Come join us. We should take this happy ensemble to a quieter place. Ever had a foursome, love?”

“She said no. Take your hands off her before I rip them out and throw them down the chasm. Don’t think you’re safe just because you’ve passed initiation now.”

“Geez, spoilsport. Come on, Drake.”

“I was about to handle this myself.” You hastened to explain when they finally staggered off, lifting your chin up in a proud and independent manner. Eric slightly raised his eyebrows. Well, at least the reason for your presence at this uncomfortable party was here now.

“I know.” Apparently, he’d been headed for the bar as well. With your heart in your mouth, you found yourself following him until you finally reached your destination and asked the barkeeper for a cold beer. Eric went with his traditional whiskey.

“You’re shaking.” He remarked, arms crossed on the counter.

“I’m cold.”

“Cold? This is a sauna. You were afraid of what they might do to you.” He said matter-of-factly and oddly, without any hint of scorn in his voice. The urge to react all defensive overwhelmed you nonetheless.

“So? I went through one abusive relationship, I’m not keen on going through that again because some arseholes believe I have to have one-nightstands for the sake of being Dauntless.”

Eric hummed; in silent agreement, probably. For a brief moment, he was still. You took the time to take a few eager sips from your beer. At least that compensated you a little for relinquishing Halloween night as a blanket burrito.

“Your face looks better than before.” He said then.

“Yeah… thanks. I told my niece begged me to do my make-up for her candy hunt. I didn’t have much choice in the matter.”

The Dauntless leader smirked. “I take it you did not intend for her to knock on my door.”

“No.” No one ever does, you added quietly.

“Well, she seems tough. She should stay in Dauntless once she’s old enough to choose.” He paused.

“I hope so too. ‘Faction before blood’ only sounds easy.”

“Tomorrow, nine o’clock in the training hall. I’m going for a run.” He suddenly commented out of the blue. Your eyes widened. Excuse me?

“Huh?” Frowning, you studied his face, searching for the joke you quite apparently did not understand. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Eric raised his eyebrows once more. “Was I being unclear?”

“Well, no but—“ There was one thing you knew about Eric for certain. You did not defy him. Ever. There was a part of you which wanted to, simply out of spite but the other… the other had dragged you all the way to this party merely because Eric had suggested to ‘see you there’. Heavens, was this really happening? Was the most fearful Dauntless leader of them all actually taking an interest in you? Should you thank your niece for being the trigger… or damn her?

“Good,” He interrupted you harshly, “Tomorrow, nine o’clock in the training hall.” When you said nothing, too flabbergasted to even respond, he simply downed his whiskey and ordered a new one. Well, Happy Halloween to you. It honestly seemed like this was going to be a promising night after all.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

#eric divergent #eric divergent imagine #eric divergent x you #eric divergent x reader #eric coulter #eric coulter imagine #eric coulter x you #eric coulter x reader #divergent #divergent imagine #dauntless #dauntless imagine #jai courtney

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villainsandvictimsalliance · 3 years ago

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Ok but like... In some weird alternate universe... Would Hero!Shiggy become childhood friends to enemies to friends to lovers with Villain!Dabi?

Absolutely yes because hero!Shiggy would never leave a friend behind, specially if that friends is suffering and needs someone by his side.

I can imagine it like this:

Dabi was a lonely kid, not because he didn't had friends, but because somehow he felt like he was not really seen. Like everyone saw what they wanted to see, but no one could break the walls he put there. He had a shitty childhood. He was pretending everything was fine all the time, but it was not. No one knew, no one saw.

And then Tomura found him.

Even when he was a weird kid with a dangerous quirk, it was impossible to ignore him. He was kind and stubborn, the only one who never backed away from an adventure or a dare. Dabi liked that. Eventually, he learned that Tomura has a shitty childhood just like him. Around that time they became a team. They'd run away from home some days, they'd train and study together, they'd talk about their plans and dreams. Dabi was not scared of Tomura, neither he was afraid of his hands. Tomura wanted to become a great pro-hero and Dabi wanted to beat the future pro-hero #1 in a fight.

But one day, Dabi died. At least that's what they told him when he asked. That's what he learn in school, that his friend had died and he hadn't been able to save him.

Tomura grew with that weight on his heart. His mindset changed after that. No, he didn't want to be a normal pro-hero. He wanted to be a rescue specialist, someone to save those who were low and hidden, who were lonely and left behind. Others could fight with villains, but him? He was there to save lives, not take them.

His years studying to be a hero were not exactly remarkable. Yes, he went at UA, but thanks to his nature he was always getting ignore. He was insanely smart and fast, had good strength and flexibility, but his quirk was, once more, too dangerous to be a hero quirk. He graduated the best he could and started working on tiny agencies, helping wherever he can. It was in his 19th birthday when he saw Dabi again.

The building Tomura was in was coming down.

Outside, heroes and villians were crashing against each other, like waves hitting the rocks of a beach. Tomura was running running running through the building, carefully decaying with his quirk a path for him to break through. Behind him, following close, at least three families cried out. He needed to take them to the ground before another big attack. There were kids with him. He couldn't fail them. He couldn't—

A blast occurred, followed by an object collided the side of the building and coming through right in from of them, hitting the wall hard.

Tomura waved the families to keep going. He swallowed. “Just one more floor, stay close to the walls. There's more heroes waiting for you, okay? Now go! ”

The person in front of him was a villain. He knew it in his heart, that's why he shielded the families with his body and pushed them to quickly pass by the body, straight to the next exit. The villain grunted, breathing heavily as he pushed himself up. Black ripped clothes, dirty dark hair, blue—

Blue eyes. The same blue eyes he had adored as a child. The same nose and bratty smile, the same spiky hair.

“ Dabi. ”

There was a moment between them, when none of them moved or blinked or breathed. They only started at their childhood friend.

And then Dabi attacked him with a blast of blue fire straight to his face.

All over Tomura, faked hands were grabbing his body. Their mechanisms were specially designed to give him the extra mobility he needed, with fine ropes inside them that he could shot and retract at will. Tomura dodge the attack, shooting one of those hand to Dabi's feet and tugging the rope, making the idiot fall to the ground.

The fight was short and fast. Dabi tried burning the rope of the hand, Tomura took the chance to run to the hole Dabi had left on the side of the building. The last thing Tomura saw before jumping, using a hand to slide him safely to the ground, was Dabi incredulous face as he watched him go.

From that point on, as a cruel joke, they kept finding each other in the oddest of situations.

Tomura was always submerging himself in big fights scenarios, because he was always risking his life to save others. Dabi, on the other hand, was always there to bring support to the villain side. So they kept clashing and interrupting the other.

And of course, arguing tension.

That was probably the most frustrating fact about it all. Every time, Tomura tried to make Dabi explain how he was alive, where had he been all those years, why he never went back to find him. Every time Dabi tried to make Tomura turned his back to the heroes.

“ Come with me. ”

They went back to their respective places alone, feeling defeated and tired.

But not always. Little by little, in between fights and attacks, they found themselves smiling again to each other. Well, yes, there was also a bit of sexual tension, mostly because Tomura needed to get close to Dabi in order to capture him, so sometimes Dabi would found himself pinned to the ground and other times Tomura would find himself trapped against Dabi's body and a wall. It made them dizzy, addicted even. The shot of adrenaline after learning there was a new mission, so they could see the other again. The feeling of the fight, of being totally immersed in another person's breathing, saying, moving. It was the heat and the danger, the familiarity, the joy of finding a friend and a rival, an enemie and a possible lover.

Little did the know that another twist was about to shake them to the core.

A year later, Tomura was kidnapped by a big bad man Dabi was working for. They called him AFO. Imagine Dabi surprise and concern when he found out that Tomura was on their base, alone with who was probably the worst person alive. Dabi was only a distraction, apparently. Something to drag Tomura closer and closer, enough to have him exactly where AFO wanted, like a moth in a spider web. He wanted to break Tomura, turn him against the heroes, against All Might.

Dabi saw him only once before making his decision. It was late, he sneaked pass the guards to the lab where Tomura was being kept. And what he saw, the way he saw the boy he had missed and loved and hated and longed for, floating in a giant capsule filled with water... He had heard the rumors about Tomura screaming his throat raw, the level of suffering he was putting up with.

For the first time in years now, Dabi felt the bitterness of his behavior climbing to his mouth. He had let that happened. Tomura let him scape again and again, he had covered him, lie for him, he was there because of him.

Dabi couldn't let him die for him too.

He smashed the glass. Tomura was heavier with muscle, he couldn't— he—

Just in time, he felt a friend of his lift Tomura up. Twice.

“ Is this the boy? ”

Dabi didn't reply, dead eyes sparkling among the darkness of the room. Behind him, Compress read his face and let out a tiny approval, telling the others to hurry up. They needed to get far really fast if they wanted to survive the night.

Tomura hadn't met them yet. The League of Villains. His somehow friends, even when he refused to called them that. Would he like them? As he ran, he came to think that yes, Tomura would probably adore them. It was impossible, but the League was fighting like Tomura was a part of them too, barely knowing the guy.

Everything was fine until Toga shouted at someone to make room for the boyfriends.

Oh, they were dead, they knew it. It was either the heroes or the villains, two sides where they didn't belong. So why? Why risking it all for a dude?

Maybe—, Dabi thought to himself as he watched Tomura wake up with rage as pure as his white hair on his eyes, a look he had never seen on him. Tomura only touched the ground and in seconds, a road of dust was opened to them. No more bodies or walls or trees, just a gray path with nothing in it.

In the distance, he heard someone calling out Tomura's name, a hero, a girl.

Spinner mumbled something and pointed at the rising sun. The rest started running towards the horizon. Dabi stayed back, holding Tomura up with an arm on his waist. The hero let his head rest on his shoulder and fell asleep again.

Maybe because he's our hero.

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violet-t-9 · 4 years ago

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Check in on my (not very realistic) wish list for episode 138

1. Nobody dies in the battle against Cree, even temporarily (looking at you, squishy wizards). Everybody survives and defeats her relatively easily.

Ayyye I mean Cree was one vs. 6 basically and of course it was easy enough, I expected this. Bye Cree, I won’t really miss you... WAIT she got controlled after death?? Well, the actual Cree fight was still easy so I’m counting this. The flesh monster version also took less than like, 20 seconds in-game time to beat lol.

2. Caleb or Beau’s eye power come into play whether for them or against them during the combat (telepathy also counts).

Heyyyy Caleb and Beau could pick up on the radio! That is helpful- oh he turned Cree into a flesh monster using the eyes... oh NO everyone has eyes now except Jester and Yasha. Group telepathy could be useful?? I guess??

3. Beau and Caleb discover the third function of their eyes if there is one (besides true sight and telepathy).

Nope I have no idea. I’m assuming that seeing through illusions and dark vision are separate at this point. That’s fine considering the huge twist that almost all of them have eyes now, like hello?? Caleb also wondered if he has a fourth power now, which we still don’t know about.

4. The party gets some much needed rest, even a short one, after defeating Cree (Bonus: heroes’ feast).

Hey the time shunt thing worked! PERFECTLY! With a 30 and a 24! I love two wizards, my absolute beloved. THANKS ESSEK (and Caleb, but Essek mostly).

5. This is a long shot but still hoping for any mention/sighting of Yussa.

Thanks Caleb for mentioning Yussa! Also Beau was able to try to connect to Yussa thanks to the eyes too! What a cool moment. Also thanks everybody for agreeing to help him lol. Caleb banished him! They saved him! Yayyyyy.

6. More nightmarish body horror and screaming from the cognouza citizens (look, listen, I loved last episode okay, Matt is awesome, horror is my jam).

Yes for the intestine corridor and flesh puddles, also for Cree transformation, also for the threshold crest vault mouth opening thing and for literally everything else in this episode need I explain? As a student of science I am very much enjoying the weird physiology connections with the Cognouza.

7. They meet another member of the Somnovem who offers more information.

Jester’s Calm emotion what a queen, they did meet a Somnovem. Wow I never thought I’d find eternal love so creepy but thanks Gaudius. Gaudius is apparently against Fastidan and Culpasi, nice. Good to know that the Somnovem Omega still does not get along lol.

8. Beau and Yasha’s PDA or power couple moments (bonus: they talk about mind control, the eyes, or feelings).

OH WOW Yasha has IDEAS about Beau wearing a red cape does she now lol, not subtle at all as expected. Get a room you guys! Not much talking can be done at this point, but nice.

9. Fjord and Jester’s conversation or domesticity (bonus: they talk about hope for the future).

“All we care about is love and unity” LMAO JESTER taking your chance to smooch as much as possible. I’m counting this moment you cannot convince me otherwise.

10. Artagan/Sprinkle comes into play/is mentioned and interaction with Jester.

Yep, they both talked (well, hissed in one case) with Jester. Artagan thought about them going to the feywild too! Fun.

11. Obligatory wish for Essek’s fancy dunamancy or magical items (Bonus: we get to see more high-damage AOE offensive spells).

Magic missile again! At least that will never miss. Sad that he can’t do AOE ever with the party around lol. ALSO THE TIME SHUNT BY THE TWO WIZARDS! The 30 from Essek (dunamancy master indeed!) and the dirty 24 from Caleb, NICE.

12. Obligatory wish for Caleb’s polymorph spell on himself or a party member.

Jester’s polymorph spell was cool too! Jestape? Japester?? I like Japester. Polymorph! Jester’s interactions are also my beloved. It’s not Caleb’s spell, so I’m not counting this one.

13. The party tracks down Lucien and tries to reach him by mentioning Molly.

Well, they attempted to track down Lucien, but really it’s the other way around.

14. Obligatory wish for Essek’s room in the tower (it will stay until it happens).

Nope, as expected.

15. Obligatory wish for Cad being a MVP in and out of combat also for him to use decompose more on the city, I’m curious to see what happens.

That path to the grave, what a MVP move Cad. TWO TIMES! TWO TIMES! For the HDYWTDT from Veth too! I knew it, Cad is a combat genius. Also nice blight on the fleshy ceiling. Also plane shift to the fire plane! Also that curse word speech what a king.

16. Veth one-on-one RP interaction with any other party member - we had some good tag teams recently, like Veth and Beau, Veth and Yasha, Veth and Essek... I want to see more!

We don’t really have time for RP because this episode was super action-packed but we did have a bunch of nice short moments!

17. Yasha or Fjord being absolutely freaked out/creeped out by the city.

Well to be fair EVERYBODY was super creeped out, so...

18. The empire siblings don’t get another red eye (well, hopefully this will happen if they won’t get a full rest).

Well ironically, Beau and Caleb DID NOT get another red eye during the whole party members gaining red eyes scene- Nope, Caleb got one more. Honestly, pretty excited and anxious at the same time.

19. Somebody check in on Essek’s mental/physical state because for a newbie adventurer he is doing suspiciously well - I wonder if he is just desensitized at this point.

Poor Essek was very physically hurt and also shook shook by Cree being transformed... so not entirely desensitized. He even failed the wisdom saving throw OH NO HE IS GETTING EYES ISN’T HE CALLING IT RN READ IN BOOKS I know what book is kinda associated with a wisdom save. Update: I KNEW IT, and I don’t care that nobody will believe me that I called it. Still sad that nobody really got to role play much, but I’m enjoying the action.

20. Caleb uses more fire or his customized spells (last episode’s awesome Widogast’s web of fire got me missing all his unique spells).

Disintegrate followed by CAT’S IRE HYPE and the clutch immovable object used for the first time what’s sexier than wizards NOTHING.

21. Fjord being the leader of the group in any way or just does something very impressive (go Fjord Tough).

Nice hexblade curse and triple Eldritch Blasts Fjord! Warlock powers let’s go! Also, nice counterspell! That divine smite + crit star razor oof that’s such a beautiful 80 damage. VERY impressive indeed.

22. We get to see new spells/abilities/features gained by their level-up! That will probably not come into play until a long rest, but one can hope.

MIND BLANK AT 8TH LEVEL what a perfect spell for Caleb. They got a long rest thanks to the mini Beacon! I love it. Jester and Cad showed off some spells as well!

23. Lucien physically reacting to the party’s attempts to bring up Molly’s memories/moments and showing confusion/hesitation.

Well they didn’t get to try anything really, Lucien spent most of the time doing his cool, dramatic and drawn-out villain monologue thing, also his maniac laughter scared me way more than the scream from last episode.

24. Obligatory wish for everyone to remain relatively happy and alive by the end of the episode except Cree (I have a feeling that Lucien ain’t dying this episode), and the episode ends on a terrifying cliffhanger as always.

Rip Cree, and what do you know, cliffhanger! Gosh I love this show.

Bonus:

Nice dimension door Jester, she is SO on task and such a key player in these crucial moments!! What a queen, it’s thanks to her (and Caleb, but it’s her idea first!) that they got to the crest so quickly and got rid of it. I repeat, QUEEN.

Veth’s first shot AND the final shot were awesome in terms of damage, rogues am I right?

Wow what a confrontation. I thought Lucien was all for the Somnovem but apparently he is... just super chaotic?? And wants to rule them all?? What was that all about? Lucien just gets more and more complex and I’m conflicted because now they might need to fight him, the city, or both. This is getting super complicated and I can’t wait for the next episode.

Well guys, this session made me scream in joy and also feel what it’s like to be high on adrenaline. The episodes just keep getting better and better. I literally could not care less if this is the final arc - if it is, it’s a damn good one. I love the cast so much, I love critical role so much. I wish it could be Thursday every day of the week!

#cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #c2e138 #the mighty nein #manifest list #cr liveblog #critical role #campaign 2

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starshipsofstarlord · 4 years ago

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Spider On The Wall | Peter Parker

Request: Hey :) could you write something about the reader having a major crush on Spiderman and being Peter's friend, but not being aware that he's spiderman, so she's like: fuck he can destroy me with that super strenght and Peter gets a boner cause damn he would love to destroy you as well? lol - Anon

A/N: It might not be great, but I hope you like it anyway. Feel free to send me some feedback, it’d be much appreciated. And don’t forget that requests are open xx

Warnings: It’s a lil smutty (handjob, blowjob)

The thing was, when Peter had became Spiderman, he spared no thought on how you would react to the webslinger in that moment. All he wanted was to fight crime, and get justice for the victims in Queens.

Perhaps he hadn’t thought about your reaction to the boy in red and blue because you had never been one to hype up the idea of superheroes. He could quote, once you had supposed, that you had ‘zero attraction’ to anyone from another planet or someone with superpowers.

And so he hadn’t suspected you to be spending your time ogling at an ass kicking vigilante, if you could even call him that. Falcon said that he spoke too much when they were fighting, but in all fairness, he still kicked his ass...

That was a few months ago now, that whole hero on hero fiasco. And to his luck, the secret of his identity was safe, from those that he fought against and his loved ones. Except Aunt May... and Ned... Okay, only you. But he was afraid that your boredom of anyone genetically exceptional would dictate the way you felt about him, or didn’t. And in all fairness, those two finding out his truth had been an accident.

Those seemed to be happening too much lately. The only thing to keep him preoccupied was the Stark internship, what wasn’t what it sounded like at all, it was a cover. Even today, when he had been shadowing Mr Stark, he broke a test tube when trying to explain how he makes the suit’s webbing, and then he got stuck in an elevator because FRIDAY was being reprogrammed, and she mistook him saying ‘stop’ as a message to her.

But actually, he was on a call with you, listening to you making fun of a song a lady of the street had played. It was about the Spiderman, being able to apparently do whatever a spider could do. So when he returned home, he had not been expecting to hear the music coming from his room, speaking about him.

He smirked as he opened the door, watching as you laid on his bed, eyes closed, rocking your socked feet to the tune. “I thought you said it was annoying.” He counteracted your earlier statement, making you jump at the sound of his voice.

Aunt May had went out for her weekly shop, so you had expected to have the place to yourself after she had let you in for an hour or so. But Peter was early, and clearly enjoying the redness that was growing on your face.

“It is!” You defended yourself, not wanting your friend to find out your little secret. “But admittedly it’s catchy, so...” You dragged out, hoping that would be enough to make him shove off and leave you alone.

When you realised that the song was still playing, you grabbed your phone, stopping it. “Did you download it?” He asked seriously, astounded by the fact. He saw that it was in your music app, so you must have.

“Well who knows, maybe it will get me to soften up to the idea of a hot guy swinging around the neighbourhood in blue leggings.”

“They aren’t leggings.” He whined, disregarding the other thing that you had said for a second, until, “you think he’s hot?” Peter couldn’t believe it, but if that was the case, then he was feeling jealous at the thought of himself. The only thing was, that you didn’t know that he was that guy.

“I’m optimistic.” You smiled, shrugging your shoulder, trying to not be too open with your opinion. If he knew that you had a thing for Spiderman, you would never hear the end of it. “And plus, everyone thinks he is.”

“They do?” He knew that all of your peers at school perceived him as some sort of god, at least practically, even Flash. But the fact that they found his ulterior attractive gave him some sort of silent confidence. The only problem was, that you seemed more interested in his disguise instead of the real him; your friend.

“Yeah, I mean fuck, he could totally destroy me with his super strength and I wouldn’t care if I was incapable of getting up in the morning. Or the morning after that, or... well, you get the picture.” Yes he did, and it was very vivid. His mouth was gaped open at your confession, and he tried to think of anything that would get his mind off the images that were blurring through his mind.

He couldn’t help it, he was a teenage boy. So he as he thought, he came to one conclusion that would change the topic, although not really. “But you’re a virgin!” He squeaked.

No that didn’t help. Right now, he felt like he knew too much about you. And just the idea made him sigh in frustration, and then he felt it. He had gone hard, and as he dreaded to look down, your eyes followed his gaze, clamping a hand over your mouth, covering your amused giggles.

“Don’t tell me that you have a thing for Spiderman too!” You laughed, making Peter shuffle and try to tug down his shirt, but to no avail did his efforts cover much.

“I don’t.” He wasn’t that vain. In respect you tried to look away, but you just couldn’t, it was practically right in front of you! And so you continued to laugh at the cost of his dignity, feeling bad for your friend at the same time.

“Then what gave you that?” You went to point at it, but you were too close. Your fingertip grazed the bulge in his jeans, making Peter’s eyes widen in shock as he let out a whimper. “Shit, sorry.”

His whole body had gone stiff at the contact, not just that one limb. He was frozen, clearly, and as you knew, had never had anyone touch him there, or really anywhere for that matter.

“Do you want me to leave, so you can, y’know, fix yourself up?” On instinct, you bit your lip, slightly nervous in this situation. As Peter had said, you were a virgin, this was all new territory to you too. “Or... do you want me to maybe, I don’t know... help?” At that thought, you shook your head, ashamed at your own offer. “Never mind, that’s stupid, why would I-”

“Would you?” He was sheepish, and with good reason. He didn’t want to cross a line, he knew that if you left right now, things would be awkward for a while, and then you would never get the real answer of why he had gotten a hard on.

His question had you struck with shock. Yes, when you said it you had been serious, but you had never expected him to actually agree with that condition. “You sure?”

You needed his consent if you were going to go ahead (no pun intended) and do anything to his body. This had to be what he wanted, because these first steps were things that you could ever retake, they weren’t like drafts in class.

“Yeah.” His composure had relaxed from how it had paused. At that he let out a deep breath, relieved that he had even managed to answer you with words. The nervousness that he was feeling, you could relate to.

The two of you were friends. Nothing more, as much as either of you unknowingly wanted to be. Sure, a couple years back you had kissed, but that was just to get the heat of the first kisses off of the both of your chests. And since then, you had never paired your lips with each other’s, let alone another’s.

At his answer, you stood, looking expectedly, dragging him by the sleeve to switch places with him. “Sit down.” You motioned at the edge of his bed with a nod, and he looked back at the portion of covered mattress, before he complied with your command.

You wanted him to be comfortable, you cared about him, a lot. Possibly more than a friend should. Clumsily, you shuffled onto your knees, feeling the carpet through the rips in the knees of your jeans.

You reached towards his belt, but the proximity that your hands were on made his hips buck up in the air. His body was eager, excited. But nevertheless, your fingers continued their route, grabbing onto the pleather and unbuckling it, until you had a free path towards his zipper.

Dragging the closing of metal down, and shimmying the rest of the fabric a little ways down his thighs, you were left with one layer. His boxers. It was dawning on you that this was all happening all so suddenly. Peter noticed the anxiety painting your face, and so he spoke up about it.

“Are you okay?” If you had changed your mind, that was okay. If this wasn’t the position that you were wanting to be put in, then you wouldn’t have to continue. Although you were the one about to do the dirty work, it was still half about you and your emotions.

“Yeah.” Nodding your head, you reached up and began toying with the blue plaid that was covering his nether region, running your fingers below the elastic band slightly. “Just settling into this, it’s new and everything.”

A small smile played at your face, and Peter reached down and began to play with your hair, but not with a sexual intention. He often noticed that when you were tired, or even scared about an oncoming exam, you would do so yourself. And his attempt at calming you worked, and as a result, you dragged the blocking material down, leaving his lower half exposed.

This was the first time that you had seen a penis in person, and at the sight alone your eyes widened. You guessed he was average size, perhaps he was more, but at the end of the day, you had nothing to compare it to. It wouldn’t matter whether it was or not, after all, genitals didn’t define a person.

But still, it was weighing on your mind as you reached forward and took a hold of it in your dominant hand. At your light grasp, Peter threw his head back, clenching his jaw. It felt so much different when it was somebody else’s hand, he realised.

You began moving your hand in soft jerking motions, leaning your head towards the action in interest until a thought appeared in your mind. Sure, hands worked, but so did your mouth, and so you brought the tip to your lips, engulfing it out of curiosity.

The feeling of having something so filling and warm in your mouth was strange. But it wasn’t bad, and so you suckled around the head, letting your eyes roam until they landed on Peter who had now began fisting his own hair and sheets.

“Fuck.” He breathed, with sweat collecting upon his face. It felt so good, possibly even too much. And then you attempted to take him a little further into your mouth, in the direction of the back of your cheek, and with that, he was plunged into pleasure. “I think I’m gonna -” He tried to warn you, but he cut himself off with a groan.

You hadn’t pulled away, instead you had rested your chin upon his thigh, taking everything that he had to give you. Swallowing, frowning at the unusual taste, you pulled him out of your mouth, extensively breathing, surprised with how you had handled the situation, and well, him.

His breathing was still pretty heavy too, but he gave himself a moment to laugh euphorically. “So... you like Spiderman?”

Wiping your mouth, you shook your head at his comment. Of course he had to bring that back up.

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myimmortalisimmortal · 4 years ago

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Why Chapter 39 of My Immortal was due to an actual hacker

After considering some findings, I’m confident in this theory. And thus, I’m confident anyone who claims to be Tara Gilesbie while claiming the hacked chapter was faked is not being honest. Below I will explain why I believe so and how I came across this information in the first place.

All this was from a long chain of breadcrumbs. Let’s go back... all to the mid 2000s in the LiveJournal days when Tara Gilesbie had a dedicated fan club.

The Tara Gilesbie Fan Club

One thing that particularly stuck out was members mentioning finding Tara through IMDb. Yes, you heard right.

[ID: Two comments on the Tara Gilesbie Fan Club LiveJournal.

The first is from ‘golden_helikaon’ on 2008-01-19 writing, “I found it on the Order of the Phoenix IMDb board. There were several long threads dedicated to ripping her apart with every new chapter.”

The second comment is from ‘heartdreamerz’ on 2008-01-20 writing, “It was almost 2 years ago and I've told this story many times. I knew Tara a month before My Immortal was published. It was on IMDb's board for My Chemical Romance. When the story came out I knew about it but didn't pay attention because I wasn't into HP at the moment. Then, like icarus_malfoy wrote, there were the threads about her and that's when my interest started. There were also another troll on the His Dark Materials...” (Image cuts off.) End ID.]

According to this, Tara Gilesbie was already tyrannizing the internet before she posted My Immortal. This actually is very consistent with the fact “Tara Gliesbie is totlly Gottik” was a petition that existed in November 2005. (My Immortal was posted in March 2006.)

This IMDb profile seemed very intriguing. It hasn’t been mentioned much, and isn’t considered to be official by most people. Was it a legitimate account? If so, was there gothicness we were deprived of all along? I searched to try find out more about it, hoping screen captures or something would turn up. Luckily, one of the same members copied and pasted Tara’s bio in another comment.

[ID: A comment on the Tara Gilesbie Fan Club LiveJournal by ‘heartdreamerz’ on 2007-05-05 writing, “All her posts are deleted now. I can still visit her profile because she's on my friend list. Her bio:

‘hi im tara. im a goth (n prode!). i have died blak hair n blu eyez. i wer eyeliner a lot of da time. i hav a bf. his naym is justin. he rox! i liv in Dubia.

likz: eyliner, goffik makep, beng goffik, GOOD CHRALOTTE, death, sleting my rists, drak colorz, hot topik _

dizliks: beng alive, bo, pop music, brite colors, pink, brabie, hiraly doof da music i lik: linen prak, GOOD CHRELOTE, evinezenz, simpl plan, akon, arvil levine, blink-183, panik! at da disko, foll oot boi, mcr. HIRALY DOOF IS A PSR!

fav moviez: when a stranger kallz, da grudge, da grudge 2, korps bird, da nitemare b4 krismas, da ring 2, da ring, shrak attak, undreworld 2, da texas chonsow massakre da bogenning

ps 2 all da prepz nd pozers tryin 2 diz me u r jus jeloz!!!! so yolsentik nd hartdremer u kan go fok ur momz 4 al i ker ok U SUK!!!111′

I feel so special to be personally insulted by her on her profile.” End ID.]

People like to copy & paste things stupid things to laugh at all the time (no offense Tara), so I thought: why not Google some of the bio? Maybe whoever did that posted additional stuff.

And it worked! (I found more content from Tara’s supposed IMDb, but more on that for a different post.)

When searching the bio, a Reddit thread about Rose Christo popped up.

During Rose Christo’s brief reign, a user said Rose’s claims seemed to check out. This user actually happens to be the same commenter, Heartdreamerz, in the LiveJournal thread. (Which makes sense, considering she’s the one who originally had the bio I was searching.)

If you don’t feel like clicking the Reddit link, basically she confirmed Rose’s claim that two Filipino users from the forums hacked the account.

Because of Heartdreamerz’ long involvement in My Immortal and the fact she never claimed to be Tara or Raven, I take a lot of trust in her word.

Heartdreamerz linked the FF.net profile of the original hacker: Coruscate Corruption.

Looking up “Coruscate Corruption” had me come across this from the LiveJournal fan club, which implies that there were two hackers.

[ID: post on the Tara Gilesbie Fan Club Livejournal by 'nicespice' on Dec. 28th, 2006, writing, “Just a little thing I drabbled down. Hope it's not too horrible. What do you think?

There is an evil on FF.net and All who encounters it feels their Respiratory system give out And become too scared to scream. Gruesome, it is. The anti-christ fanfiction, My Immortal, written by a total idiot. Does she Leave you to cry tears of blood, because I have before. EarnestInBerlin and Coruscate Corruption, the hackers, Sought to bring My Immortal redemption. Too Bad the real Tara had to come back so soon to ruin the fun. I wish she had at least continued her story, I look at her fic Everytime I go online, wishing she'd just update so I could laugh at... Tara Gilesbie." End ID.]

While searching “Coruscate Corruption”, a few posts popped up from a forum for The Bartimaeus Sequence called Bartiforums.

[ID: Two images showing 3 forum posts by Mwamba.

The first post was a reply to, "Mwamba, how did you crack both passys? Just guessing or what?"

On December 8th 2006, Mwamba replied, "Tara's was just pure luck. It didn't take long to get. The password was tara. *snorts* Post's was just guessing too, but I remembered when his passy was cracked on here, so I tried out the same password. It worked. Oh yeah, and I wrote a fanfic for Post, it's a rip off of Tara's story, but meh.”

The last two posts were made on January 14th, 2007. The second post wrote, "It was me. I had complete control for two days. And then EarnestInBerlin had to hack in too and change the password. But then she told what it was and then the real Tara had to come back and rechange her passy so nobody could get in. But that's old news. That account is most certainly not mine. I could not continue that fic for 39 chapters, I'd get bored after the first fifteen.”

The third post wrote, “*Shrug* It doesn't matter. Call me whatever. Though if I have to pick, I suppose you can call me by my FF.net name, Coruscate Corruption. What book category are you writing this fic in? Just curious.” End ID.]

Chapter 39 was posted late November 2006, so that first post was only a few weeks after it happened.

The password was “tara”... does that ring a bell at all?

[ID: A screencap from Rose Christo’s now-deleted blog. It says, “And My Immortal? You can come to your own conclusions. This was really never about the fic; it was the marketing team at SMP that decided to make My Immortal the main part of the story. Our email address was [email protected] and our password was tara.” End ID.]

-- Rose Christo’s claim before deleting

You may be asking, “Rose Christo? The woman who lied about her family, being Native American, and writing My Immortal to sell a book?” Yes, that Rose Christo. Yes, she was a fraud and a scammer, but she peppered in some little-known true details to make her claim seem more legit. For instance, she talked about a Voldemort rper in the reviews, and that ended up being true. You can actually find this Voldemort reviewer in the web archives of Raven’s stories. (Apparently, that Voldemort even came out and said “hey, that’s me!” Cannot find it unfortunately.)

Keep in mind the only way I found any of this was because Rose Christo made that claim. Without it, Heartdreamerz wouldn’t have made that post that led to Coruscate Corruption and those posts on Bartiforums. It’s possible Rose somehow came across the same information I did, but it’s more likely she was there. Rose Christo may not be the author of My Immortal, but it was likely she was a spectator as it all went down. (As I was a spectator for Rose’s ordeal when it all went down.)

Since it was said the hackers posted on the fanfiction forums, I sought to find it by searching “Tara”, “My Immortal”, etc. on FFnet’s search. The posts are unfortunately long gone, but there is a surviving forum called “My Immortal Forum Tara Gilesbie is a genius!”

[ID: A screencap of “My Immortal Forum Tara Gilesbie is a genius!” from Fanfiction net. Someone named Ebony Dark’ness wrote, “I have personally logged on to Tara’s account when her password was revealed after she got hacked.” End ID.]

TL;DR: Multiple, separate people made consistent claims over the span of years. Because of this, I personally believe Tara’s account was legitimately hacked.

(Sources/links will be added in a reblog.)

#my immortal #rose christo #tara gilesbie #todd gilesbie

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red-archivist · 4 years ago

Text

Vertex, Apex

MARTIN So… are we going to talk about it, or…?

ARCHIVIST When we get back to London. I don’t �� I think we all need some time to think. ~

okay i know i have a safehouse fic to update but i started thinking about the boys properly apologising to each other after their fight and this came out - read it under the cut or on ao3!

As soon as they sit down to talk, Basira falls asleep.

The cloaking effect of the tunnels has allowed exhaustion to exist again and she slumps backwards mid-sentence. It’s only the bulk of her backpack that stops her head from slamming on the hard stone and Martin rushes forward to put her in the recovery position.

He is only able to fret for a second before Jon reminds him that this is the first chance her body has gotten since the Change to rest.

“Will she be alright?” Georgie asks from behind him.

Jon looks Basira over. Rather, he looks at her, straining against the muting tunnels for an answer.

“She’ll be alright in a couple of hours -or what passes for hours down here,” He helps Martin take her bag off her back, “She’ll be more annoyed with herself than anything else, when she wakes.”

“So Basira needs a nap,” Melanie grumbles, “What now?”

“We wait. I want us all to talk together,” Jon stands slowly, “And frankly, we could use a rest as well.”

Melanie snorts disapprovingly but Martin can hear her heart isn’t in it. She is too worn-down to muster any real anger. Guilt eats at the edges of his mind.

He heaves himself upright as Georgie passes Jon a brown bottle.

“Want one?” She asks him, holding out another.

When he shakes his head, she pops off the lid herself and takes a swig before passing it to Melanie to sip from. Jon gropes for his hand and leads him out of the little room without a word, down the corridor to another quiet dusty space.

“What are we doing?” Martin whispers as Jon plops down on the ground.

“I need a break,” He mutters, “Ankle is still at me.”

He opens his beer and takes a long drink, wrinkling his nose at the taste.

Martin slips off his bag and sits beside him. A sharp twinge lances up his side and he winces. He shattered his pelvis jumping off the cliff and even though he knows it has already healed, there is still a phantom tenderness in his hips.

Side-by-side, they sit in silence as Jon slowly drinks.

The room they have found themselves in is bare apart from some broken shelves and a thin sheet of fabric on the floor. It is crumpled in the vague shape of a body. Martin idly wonders which of the cult members slept here. His thoughts stray down that avenue. Someone might have been here when they were taken; ripped out of their rest by a cyclopean wraith or living camera. Would they be put back in the domains they were rescued from? Or just thrown into the guts of ever-vigilant London to feed its Master?

A shudder rolls down his spine.

He catches Jon watching him from the corner of his eye. When he swallows his mouthful of beer, Martin can see the slim column of his neck move.

“You want to know?” Jon asks suddenly, nodding at the blanket.

It takes Martin a moment to realise what he means.

Jon knows exactly what happened to the cult. He probably knew the instant Georgie told them they had been taken. All the fear, shock, and pain of the attack has been planted straight into his head and he can never forget it.

Martin screws his eyes shut and shakes his head.

“I don’t.”

His voice doesn’t shake but it’s a close thing. Every time he thinks he has seen the worst of what the end of the world has to offer, something proves him wrong. He knew the tunnels weren’t exactly safe, but they had felt like it. Even if the people down here had coped in strange ways, they had been free. The little spark of hope Martin keeps cradled close to his chest had flared brightly knowing that.

He draws his legs up, resting his chin on his knees.

With a shrug, Jon drains the beer bottle and puts it down. As soon as his hands are free, he crosses his arms and leans into Martin’s side. In the cold of the tunnels, his body heat feels like a brand.

He shuffles a bit, making himself comfortable and Martin wonders if he would be allowed put his arm around him to bring him closer.

Before he can ask, Jon sighs.

“I’m ready to talk about it,” He says, “If you are.”

He almost wishes he had asked about the cult’s abduction. Hearing about other people’s torture would have spared him his own.

Martin has known this was coming ever since he felt Jon’s footsteps echo through Annabelle’s web. He might have already accepted Martin’s reasoning for following her to Hilltop Road but they both know that’s not the only thing they need to talk about.

Jon has been patient with him. If he said he still wasn’t ready, he might get away with it. He indulges in the fantasy of not having to have a difficult conversation for a moment, before letting it go with a sigh. Once Basira wakes up, he knows they won’t have a chance to talk like this for a long time. All he can hope is that this won’t be the last time.

“Okay,” He says.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Jon sits upright and Martin immediately misses his warmth. He turns so that he is facing Martin directly, clearing his throat.

“First and foremost,” Jon stares him dead in the eyes, “I’m sorry.”

Martin freezes.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did back in the Panopticon,” Jon continues, heedless, “I wasn’t thinking straight, I was just… panicking a bit. But I took that out on you and that wasn’t right. I’m sorry.”

His tone is remorseful, but his gaze is fierce. It’s hard to keep looking at him.

“Jon…”

“I know… I know replacing Jonah isn’t an option. Giving the Eye what it wants and just changing around who gets tortured isn’t right. I should never have suggested it. I’m sorry for that too.”

Martin’s breath is caught in his lungs. His stomach lurches with a sudden nausea.

Jon drops his gaze and takes a deep breath as if he is bracing for something.

“Now. I have a question. I don’t want to compel the answer out of you, so I need you to be honest with me.”

“…Of course.”

Martin expects him to stare again. Instead, Jon keeps his eyes down and wraps his arms tighter around his waist. He licks his lips nervously.

“Do you trust me?”

He practically whispers the words.

Pain lances through Martin like a spike.

His first instinct is to sputter indignantly, to tell him yes of course he trusts him, to ask how Jon could even think such a silly question.

Before the Panopticon, that might have even been the truth.

Martin hadn’t even consider that it wasn’t until Jon spoke.

True to his word, there is no compulsion in Jon’s question. It still feels like the answer is being pulled out of him like a rotten tooth. A festering, painful infection that hurts to poke at. His heart aches when he thinks about what his answer is.

Jon squirms in place.

“Martin?”

“Give me- Give me a moment.”

Jon nods stiffly.

He should look at him when he says this. That would be the decent thing to do.

He doesn’t.

“I… I want to trust you.”

“…But?” Jon’s voice is brittle.

“But I-,” The words stick in his throat, “I don’t think I… Not e-entirely?”

The tunnels don’t echo. They swallow noise and as soon as Martin finishes talking, a heavy silence falls, the weight of his words bearing down on his shoulders.

“…I see,” Jon says without inflection.

Martin is immediately struck by his own words. He hadn’t really felt them before they were spoken but, in his gut, he knows they are true. There is a part of him that doesn’t trust Jon and he hates himself for it.

Jon has been through enough without yet another person doubting him, nevermind the man who loves him. You aren’t supposed to distrust the people you love, Martin is sure.

It’s difficult to keep his breathing steady. He risks a glance at Jon’s face, an ache building in his chest.

Jon still won’t look at him. His gaze is fixed firmly on the ground and devastation is written all over his face. He keeps his arms wound tightly around himself and hunches his shoulders as if making himself smaller will protect him. The worst thing, however, is that he doesn’t seem surprised.

Martin feels like a monster.

All his breath leaves him as he rushes to justify himself.

“It’s not-! It’s not y-you exactly, it’s-” He waves a hand vaguely towards the ceiling, “It’s the Eye, it has this hold on you and I’m just so scared you’re going to be lost to it and-”

“I haven’t so far,” Jon mumbles, his lip twisting in a slight sneer.

“You didn’t see your face up there! What happened to Jonah-! You wanted that! I saw it!”

“So what if I did!”

Jon whips his head up to glare at him.

“Is that what you want to hear?” He hisses, “That I was envious! Because I was, alright? I was. This whole- Ugh, this whole journey I have been trying so hard to not give in to Beholding. It’s been calling me here all this time to take my place with it. And yes, there is a part of me that wants that. It would be so easy to give in. To stop caring about this world and other people and my own pain.”

Jon’s hands dig into his own sides, claw-like, as he bares his teeth.

“And what did I do? What did I do when was staring directly at the Eye? Tell me, Martin, since you apparently saw it all.”

Martin can feel his whole body shaking.

“I walked away,” Jon plows on, “I walked away from it. Yes, I was considering it, but I still left that room. I made that choice, I am still making that choice. As soon as I was able to calm down, I knew I wouldn’t do it. I was going to find you and apologise and figure out another way. That’s what I did.”

“I-I know, Jon,” Martin stutters, “I know you’re trying, I can see that, I was just worried about you. Between that and the smiting-”

“That was your idea!” Jon cries.

“I know, I know-!”

“I did that for you! Because you asked me to do something, and that was all I could-!” Jon presses a hand to his chest, “And I’m the one who wanted to stop it, because- because… yes, yes, I did enjoy it. And I hated that I did. I couldn’t- I couldn’t be that anymore.”

Jon’s anger leaves him quickly, swiftly replaced by something that looks like grief. He is shaking too now. One hand creases his shirt where it is twisted up in it. He looks at Martin with wide eyes.

“W-What do I have to do?” To Martin’s horror, there are tears in his voice, “What do I have to do for you to trust me? Say it, say it, I’ll try to do it, please, p-please… I can’t, I can’t lost you because of- please…”

His eyes are bright and damp. Martin feels his heart being slowly ripped to shreds.

Temptation from his god did not make Jon cry. A full-fledged avatar of the Web did not make him beg. Martin has managed to do both. Jon looks like a single word from Martin could shatter him. He hates the power he holds over him.

Martin shuts his eyes for a moment and tries to control his breathing. He wants to say this right.

“Jon,” The man flinches at the sound of his own name, “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I need to apologise properly,” Martin insists, “I’m sorry for what I said to you. I shouldn’t have compared you to Jonah. I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m so sorry, Jon.”

Jon stares at him, incredulous.

“I need to take responsibility for the things I did. Because, y-yeah, I did egg you on a bit without… without really thinking about it. I’m sorry.”

Jon looks away.

“…I’m sorry for walking off with Annabelle. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I… I promise to try. To do better- To trust you more.”

“I-” Jon bites off his own words. He leans towards Martin then sways back, unsure.

Martin isn’t certain if he is allowed, but he holds his arms out to Jon slightly. Jon’s shoulders hitch in an aborted sob and he throws himself at Martin. He wraps his arms around his waist like an octopus and buries his face in his shoulder.

“Oh! Oh, Jon…”

Martin holds him close, one arm braced around his back, the other cradling his head.

“I’m sorry,” He apologises into Jon’s hair, pressing his face into the top of his head.

“Enough, enough,” Jon dismisses him weakly, “I just- I was so scared Martin. When I heard Cane had you- Our last conversation was an argument and I never would have forgiven myself if that-”

He cuts himself off and Martin knows he is trying to stop himself from crying.

“Me too. I- I knew I was in the wrong the second you walked away. I was so scared, and I lashed out and- Ugh. I feel so bloody stupid.”

Jon shushes him, rubs a hand down his back.

They stay like that for a while. Holding each other and catching their breaths. Martin feels Jon’s heartbeat settle into an even rhythm again. It seems astounding to him in this moment how he could have ever walked away from him. There is nowhere he wants to be more than in Jon’s embrace.

With a sniffle, Jon leans back slightly and holds both of Martin’s hands in his own.

“You, ah, you said you’ll try to trust me?”

“I will, I swear.”

“Mm. Y-You remember how before we went up to the Panopticon? You, uh, you called me ‘humanity’s only hope’?”

Martin winces.

“Yeah… I’m sorry for that too.”

“Yes…b-because I- I can’t be that, Martin. I need you to help me. I need us to be a team. No matter what happens next, I need us to do it together. And… we need to trust each other.”

“We will,” Martin lifts one of Jon’s hands and kisses it firmly, “I’ve decided.”

“You’ve decided?”

“Yup. No more doubt, no more fighting. We’re all in this now, and whatever the next step is, we all take it.”

Jon’s smile is weak.

“Okay.”

“Okay!”

Martin pulls him in for another hug.

“Thank you,” Jon mumbles in his ear.

“Thank you,” Martin shoots right back, “For giving me another chance.”

“Isn’t that my line?”

“Hush.”

Martin kisses him on the mouth. Jon tastes like stale beer and he relishes it.

The thought of what is to come is overwhelming. Martin knows the only way he will get through is with Jon by his side. Something in his heart still quails at the idea of entrusting the world to him. Martin swears on his own life that if it ever rears its ugly head again, he won’t let it guide his hand. He will choose to trust Jon, to talk with him and not let his temper control him.

Jon kisses back, melting into his arms, and Martin privately marvels at how easily Jon seems to have forgiven him.

Jon has shown his faith in him time and time again. Holding him close, Martin makes a silent promise to try and be worthy of it.

#jonmartin #the magnus archives #tma #tma spoilers #tma 198 #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tma fanfiction #TMA fic

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eve6262 · 4 years ago

Text

Long Gone | Bug Fables fic pt. 2

It chimes- and it sounds heavenly, like fairy bells on the wind- and calms.

Leif sees himself, reflecting in those eyes. Perhaps it’s the confusion, being so lost in a place so familiar, the fear wrapping around him like spider silk. Or maybe it’s the ever-so-slightly reflective surface of the crystal.

He reaches out a hand nonetheless. There are people speaking in the background- someone yelling?- but he’s stopped paying attention.

“Hrej? Ovriek v’rei hrej?”

Kin? You are kin?

Again it chimes. A memory pops up unbidden- Zommoth, looking down at the poor child kindly, as a brother to her. She has no mouth but he distinctly sees her smile.

Leif has no siblings. The cordyceps has a sibling- a sister. These two are incompatible.

The little crystal spider chimes again, and Leif isn’t sure what to think anymore.

It nudges his hand, like it knows he’s ignoring it. Chompy has always been good at that- seen through his hollow gazes, known when he was simply going through the motions and when he was actually doting on her. Like Chompy, not like Zommoth.

Chompy did not hiss at his friends. Zommoth hissed at his friends- and what did this one do? Like Zommoth, not like Chompy.

The two are incompatible. Leif and “I” are incompatible. They are one and the same. This problem has no solution.

Without hesitation, it bites down on his arm. Not roughly, like wild spiders, but softly, like Chompy asking for pets. And then it tries to drag, like it wants to show him something.

He can’t refuse his kin. But is it kin with the cordyceps or Leif?

Again, vaguely, he can hear people talking. He can also hear the constant chimes of the crystal spider, and he wonders where they are going. And he hears the patter of Chompy’s footsteps- and he wonders, will she be safe? Will she be alright?

She’s a smart little thing. She’ll go back to Kabbu and Vi if it’s too dangerous, won’t she? The old Mother Chomp surrounded herself in thorns, hid in a cave far away so she wouldn’t die. Surely Chompy will have the same instincts.

The crystal spider comes across a door and easily hops up to a control panel. Its body is dimly lit, like a piece of glass over a light bulb. It knows how to operate this place, despite just waking.

Just like him. When did he learn Roach, anyway?

No. Don’t think of that. He can’t. The cordyceps has known it since birth, and Leif has memories of learning the language. The same dialect, too. These facts are incompatible- he must be using one of their repositories, but which one?

Oh, being a parasitic lifeform has its positives. Always nice and cool, even in the desert. But there are so many downsides he can’t even look too far up lest he snap his own neck with the pressure.

Finally, the crystal spider stops, snapping him out of his stupor. He feels Chompy cuddle up to his leg- too warm here? She stays away from him in cold places, but according to Vi the Snakemouth lab was cold.

Gently, his hand is let go of. The slight pressure was comforting, he realizes now. He misses it the moment it is gone. Nonetheless, he watches as the spider climbs something.

A crystal web. Of course.

He wants to cry. He wants to break down and tear the place to shreds. He wants to hug that spider. He wants to collapse in someone’s arms. His wife is dead- that’s not his wife he’s a lie what. is. he?

It chimes again, but Leif and the cordyceps are gone and replaced with a dead-eyed zombified moth with no brain nor inclination to act. If he were to speak it would be in slurred Roach; if he were to move he would collapse with the effort.

Chompy knows. The spider has realized.

It tries to apologize, but all it knows is chimes. Chompy tries to interpret, but all it knows is gentle hand bites and bumping against his leg. The latter gets him to sit, but then his hands go to his head and the two creatures panic.

Then the door opens, and vaguely he can hear the panicked shouting of Kabbu. (which is a testament to his mental state, because that man is loud.) He feels a hand on his arm, and it feels like fire, and he immediately jerks away at the thought. Fire. Fire, wasn’t there something with fire?

The place in flames. The roaches left behind. Him, him and- and-

And Kabbu and Vi. That’s right. The Everlasting King and his madness and his death.

The crystal spider chimes from its place on his lap. His lap. When did he end up on the floor? He reaches down and pets the thing, as he would any other cute thing. It chimes and nuzzles his hand.

Cute thing.

Chompy, satisfied with her owner’s mental state, gives the crystal spider a chomp on the leg. It cries out- and the sound is like angels having their wings ripped off- and again becomes agitated.

“Tr’vrek tajh vrie! Viatiev kr’aivret traj kret obivrat.”

Both of you calm down! The fault lies with no one- a bit awkward. It’s not anyone’s fault.

Chompy does not like hearing her owner speak Roach, because she knows it is usually a sign of a mental breakdown. The crystal spider has only heard him speak Roach, so it enjoys this. The two are at odds.

Just like his mind. The same. Incompatible. What?

“My apologies for whatever I may have caused, but we must work on separating the two immediately.”

The crystal spider, evidently, has a mild understanding of Bugnish. It chimes angrily at that. Chompy, apparently, also sees that this is not the solution, and hisses at the Queen. Leif rushes to stop them.

“Krei jhai, kuvrait. Ovioljret traj...Queen, veriait.”

Be nice, cordial. She is the Queen, after all.

“The word for Queen…”

He doesn’t often speak out loud, save for explanatory purposes, but the phrase slips out as his mind slowly but surely returns to its usual half-Roach, half-Bugnish state. Vi takes that as a sign of recovery.

“Leif!”

She practically shouts it in his ear, startling him, but his eyes are back to normal and his brain is occupied with now and not who. He looks around for a moment before realizing what happened.

“Ah. Our apologies. We…”

“No explanations yet. You okay?”

“Yes. We saw the web and memories…”

“That makes sense. We did find you in a spiderweb.”

“What about the spider, though? You kinda just followed it when it started leading you.”

“It reminded us of ourselves.”

“I wish I knew more,” Queen Vanessa interjects, “But for now, my priority is the creature.”

“The creature is calm.”

As if to support his claim, it chimes happily, finally leaving Leif’s lap so he can get up. Chompy, however, complains and jumps up at his legs a few times. No longer worried about the mental breakdown, she demands pets.

He picks her up and holds her like a small child while the others continue. Kabbu and Vi barely notice, but the others seem worried.

“Wait a minute. Please don’t tell me you think that thing is cute.”

“Think? It is cute.”

“Alright, pack it up, people. He’s found another one. He’s not letting go of it.”

“It is like us. And look at it. It means no harm.”

“You just had a mental breakdown over it.”

“Our weak mental fortitude is not the fault of the creature.”

“Weak? Leif, I can’t begin to talk about how much you’ve gone through! That’s not weakness, that’s simply natural.”

Vi growls and turns around, hands at her head. Much more common for her. “I can’t believe we’re keeping that.”

“Think of it this way. Easier battles.”

“I’m not objecting, I’m just annoyed that I was worried about you for nothing.”

“Vi!”

“Not your fault.”

Kabbu’s shoulders slump. Neo looks a little scared, Queen Vanessa looks apprehensive, and Maki looks almost...scared.

“By the way, Leif, it’s not...normal, for you to pick up that creature, is it?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“It could bite your hand off.”

“Chompy is a nice girl. She only bites people that we fight.”

“It is a baby Chomper.”

“Chompy.”

“If I may ask, you three… would you be willing to-”

“If you’re gonna say take care of the crystal thing, yes. Leif is going to take that thing from you regardless of whether you want us to or not, and good luck fighting him.”

“...Very well then. As far as the records go, it requires no food to survive, as it is technically not alive.”

“See? Like us.”

And the little beast chimes, happy to have found a friend.

#bug fables #kabbu #leif #vi #fanfic #leif centric #writing

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