#doc oozes with confidence I think

[shade-e-e-es]

I think it’s like. Funny and also really cute how Rens really shy when it comes to like how he looks and shit. I think there’s a sliding scale on the hermits from gets really shy when they’re called cute or hot to the really confident folk who know they’re hot

And it’s really funny but I think Ren and Doc are the ends of the scale.

#doc oozes with confidence I think #I’m watching his old vlogs rn #reasoning btw Ren does get like all bashful and shit. talks about how he can’t get a gf. gets shy about his gray hairs #and then you got doc. the goat. he’d say I know if you told him he was hot #really all the hermits partners are so lucky they’re all such sweet and cute folk #punches a wall I love love. also I think everyone is hot always. my curse #m fucking tired and sick don’t look at me I’m not right in the head tonigjt

[infernalbliss]

Doctor's Appointment

Il Dottore x Top Male Reader

“Even a doctor needs to be taken care of every now and then, especially with a workaholic like Dottore. Thankfully, you know just how to help him.”

CW: Harbringer!Reader, Dubious Consent, Dottore has a pussy, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Marking, Unsafe Sex, Implied Pain Kink

"What the hell? That damn doctor's been so grouchy lately..." You heard Tartaglia grumble as he walked down the halls side-by-side to the woman he hates the most in the world, who surprisingly nods in agreement.

"He's been rather distasteful, I could barely refrain from backhanding that horrid mask of his..." She scowled.

Your voice quipped into their little conversation, "Hey now, the mask isn't that bad."

Childe lights up when he sees you, his disgustingly fake childish grin flashing as he waves his hands merrily. "Oh, (Y/N), hey! Catch the latest hottest gossip; Dottore tried to kill me."

You stared blankly at him. "So what's new?"

Tartaglia squawked in offense. "Not even an ounce of pity or concern?! You wound me, (Y/N), I assumed that the two of us are good friends! It seemed that I was sorely mistaken."

"We're friends when it conveniences me."

"Rude! Same, but rude!"

Your two fellow harbringers watched as you walked past them with an air of superiority - causing Signora to scoff - towards the direction they came from; Il Dottore's lab of manmade nightmares, filled with gruesome human experiments and nauseating bodily modifications. Your favorite place, really.

"Where're you going?" Tartaglia quirked a brow, his confusion growing when you turned to shoot him a smirk.

"Helping you sorry lot with your silly problems. So long, dumbass twins."

❧

"The hell do you want?"

The doctor grumbled the moment you stepped foot into his little land of odd wonders, as if he sensed your presence despite your careful attempts at being quiet. He was sitting on a chair right by a metal table, where a broken ruin guard laid unmoving. The poor scientist evidently grouchier than usual as he tinkered with his favorite toys, the sounds of metal scraping against each other filling the air of silence.

"Coming to check up on my favorite fellow harbringer." You crossed your arms, grinning playfully. "Only to find a grouchy little kitten."

His sharp growl of annoyance piqued your interest. "Hardy har har, hilarious. Get out before I kill you."

"Huh, they're right. You are grouchier than usual."

"Pray tell, do you have a problem with that?" He snapped, turning to you with a snarl. "Get out of my sight if you have nothing better to say."

Your eyes "Oh no, I have something better to suggest; let me help you."

His deadpan look suggested that he assumed you were fucking with him, so you waved your hands in reassurance. "Hear me out, doc. You've been working all week, and I've been on my ass with nothing to do for a while. Why don't I keep myself busy by... helping you relax?"

Dottore scoffs, "By what, giving me a good massage? Piss off, shithead."

You shrugged, "I guess it's kind of a massage."

His crimson eyes followed you warily as you idly approached his form, each steps oozing with confidence and fearlessness as if Dottore couldn't grab a scalpel and fling it to your throat. But you know he wouldn't, because you could tell from the light glint in the eyes peeking through the holes of his mask; he's interested.

Eventually, your tall form loomed over his sitting figure, casting an intimidating shadow over him before you suddenly lowered yourself to your knees.

The doctor scowled, but never tried to stop you. "What do you think you're doing?"

Your eyes remained on the spot between his legs as you spoke, "What I promised."

Your fingers fumbled slightly as you unclasped the button of his pants, before you slowly pulled the zipper down to reveal his adorable little underwear. With his slacks now loosened, you rolled them off his hips until they fell to his ankles, and he swiftly kicked them off to be strewn uselessly on the floor.

You thumbed against his clothed clit, and he throws his head with a light groan.

"Fuck..." He moans into his gloved hand, his thin body shuddering with each push and role of your thumb, jolting with every added pleasure. You teased him like the bastard you are, forcing out choked sounds from the prideful doctor.

"Stop playing around and get on with it..." His deep voice growled, glaring down at you with a scowl, his face flushed from underneath his mask. Who are you to deny the doctor's orders?

With one tug of your strong hands, his panties ripped apart in one swift motion, reduced to pitiful tatters. Dottore grieved the loss of his underwear, but said nothing to scold you.

His cunt was all wet and puffy from arousal, the little clit glowing red from when you played with it. His slickly hole gaped every now and then like a hungry creature, begging to be filled and fed to the brim. Natural slick trailed down to the crevice of his ass, pooling on the metal chair he rested upon. You took the time to admire such a lovely sight, riling up your appetite further.

Dottore grumbled impatiently, "Are you done leering at it? Either you eat me out or- AH—!"

He sharply gasped as your warm mouth enveloped his leaking pussy, tongue immediately running through his sensitive folds as you scooped up as much of his essence as possible. You groaned into his pussy, finding yourself growing hard by just how unbelievably sweet he tasted. Craving more of it, your tongue smothered his wet hole until more of his slick gushed out.

Dottore squirmed with each flick of your tongue, loudly gasping and moaning from the waves of pleasure your mouth forced through him. He could barely contain a scream as you nibbled and lapped your tongue against his hardened clit, gripping your hair for dear life.

"Oh- Oh Archons—!" He mewled, his slender back arching marvelously as your tongue slithered through his pussy, prodding around his sensitive walls until he's sobbing in delight. "Nha—ah..! Don't stop, don't you dare stop!"

Through his brash form of encouragement, your tongue picked up the speed and fucked through his quivering folds until he's sent howling, his unrestrained voice echoing through the laboratory. The wanton cries pouring out through his lips filled you with the desire to destroy him further.

"Ah! Hahh! Fuck—!" He cried out, strangled whines filled with ecstasy.

With one audible slurp, the doctor came with a piercing howl, his hips jumping into the air as he squirted out into your awaiting mouth. His thighs trembled pitifully in your grip as you sucked and lapped against every bit of his cum, wanting to swallow as much as possible. Every little flick of your tongue had him jolting from sensitivity, his long fingers curling into your hair.

Eventually, you released him with an audible pop, a string of saliva and slick connecting your lips to his pussy before breaking off completely. Your eyes hungrily gazed down upon his red, puffy cunt, still quivering pitifully from your abuse.

You're still painfully hard, and that just won't do.

Dottore - still debauched - eyes you in confusion as you rised from your kneeling position, looming over him once more. Your eyes glinted dangerously as you peered down at the shaking doctor, and for once in his life, Dottore felt fear take over his being.

His breathing quickened as he watches you unbuckle your pants, anxious yet excited for what's to come.

"W-wait..." He uselessly protested as you lifted him up from the chair he sat, only to plop your own ass comfortably on his seat. With strong hands, you kept the doctor elevated by his hips above your raging erection, the tip of your leaking cock barely kissing his wet folds. His pouring slick dripped and trailed down the bulging veins of your dick, providing just enough lubrication.

His fingers dug into your shoulders as you grinned at him.

In one swift motion, you pushed him down and speared your entire length and girth through his tight walls.

You wondered if the other harbringers heard his whorish wails.

You wasted no time with pathetic foreplay. In an instant, you used your strength to force Dottore's hips up and down your cock, treating his slender body as your own personal fleshlight. His moans and squeals bounced along his motion, the sounds a slut like him would make once he's fucked into oblivion. Your rough handling of his frail body was sure to left bruises all over his pale skin, especially with the death grip you had on his narrow hips. And from the way he mewls everytime your clutch tightens, you know he loves it.

"A-Ah, hahh—!" He moans, back arching like a bridge everytime your cock stretches him beyond what he thought was possible. The sounds of sweaty skin slapping against each other joined his chorus of passionate squeals, producing sweet music to your ears.

You weren't doing any better, either. His walls were smooth and tight, enveloping the shape of your cock almost perfectly, leaving no room for air and making sure you feel pleasure on every inch of your dick. You groaned everytime the shape of his ass slotted with your hips, squeezing your entire cock like a vice before being pulled off once more. His cunt threatened to squeeze every bit of cum out of you until there's nothing left, and you weren't opposed to the idea one bit.

"Look at you, doc..." Your teasing grin stretched from ear to ear as you peered up at him, taking in the sight of the trail of tears peeking from the exposed part of his face. "Such a needy whore for me, such a good little slut..! Your cunt feels better than anything Celestia could promise, I could fuck you for ages!"

"Oh will you—Anh, fuck! W-Will you quit it with your r-ridiculous words?!" He growled with naked irritation. You could barely make out the words he spat from the furious way he bounced, so you took pity and ceased for a while. His aggravation was as clear as day from the way his crimson eyes glared daggers into you.

"Don't be daft with such needless conversation." He scoffed, "Busy your mouth with whatever else!"

A smile slowly crept up on your face. "With pleasure."

You could feel him jolt when your lips connected against the pale skin of his neck, followed by a groan as you began to smother his skin with sucks, licks and harsh bites that broke through the thin layer, drawing blood. With your tongue, you lapped against the newly made wound and smeared the blood all over his neck, shoulders and chest, connecting the dots of bruises and hickeys. He was akin to a blank canvas, and you were set on being the artist.

"Ah—Archons..!" He moaned in delight at the stinging sensation that spread through his shoulders as you marked and fucked him, gasping everytime your roaming hands rolled his hardened nipples through the fabric of his clothes. It was only a matter of time before you eventually ripped his shirt apart, but the doctor found that he didn't care.

The moment his chest was bare and free, your mouth found it's way to his perky buds and immediately sucked like a starving child, eagerly taking in the sweet, vulgar noises that escaped Dottore's lips.

You clamped your teeth around the abused nub and bit, and his scream of bliss echoed through Teyvat.

"(Y/N)..!!"

Ah, your ego's never been so inflated before.

The way Dottore cried out your name switched a flip within you, and in a matter of seconds, your hands held Dottore's lithe body in place as you rutted into his cunt like a beast. He squeals in delight everytime the tip of your cock kisses the mouth of his womb, threatening to breach through and ruin his insides beyond repair.

"Ah—Hahh! Fuck- fuck me! Fuck me faster!" Dottore sharply gasped, pure ecstasy filling him from head to toe from the brutal way you fucked into him. "Yes, yes, yes— GODS, YES!! Right there, right there—Ahh!!"

You bit your tongue to contain any dirty talk that could anger him, but you couldn't contain the pleased grin that stretched through your face. You did that; your cock ruined and shattered every bit of pride he had in him left, letting free the whore in him that you knew was in there all along. His moans, his cries, his screams - it's all on you.

Before he knew it, he was squirting all over your cock again, making an even bigger mess than the last. But it's nothing compared to what was about to happen.

You came with a howl, filling the doctor up to the brim with your warm seed.

Dottore's red eyes rolled back into his head as he felt your cum shoot straight into him, filling him up until he was reduced to whimpers. Archons, he didn't know being cummed in would feel so good...

The two of you took a few moments to come down from your high, panting heavily with Dottore still around your softening cock.

Then, the doctor lifts his head up and shoots yet another glare. Uh oh, did you do something wrong?

"You ruined my pants."

Oh.

❧

The next day, the doctor was notably far more tolerable than before, sparing a few pestering soldiers from a wrathful death... a few of them, at least.

Tartaglia turns to you as your meeting for the week wrapped up, and Dottore strolled out with a surprisingly merry goodbye to continue his inhumane experiments.

"You really did fix our problems, huh?" He gaped with wonder as you smirked.

Both Signora and Scaramouche nodded in agreement, although the tiny balladeer was notably more confused.

"I don't know what you did," Scaramouche squinted, "and I don't think I want to know, but you've managed to get a doctor's nasty temper off of our backs. You deserve a thank you, at the very least."

"I'm a man of my words." You smugly huffed, your arms crossed. Scaramouche rolled his eyes in light amusement while Signora scoffed.

Tartaglia was eerily quiet.

You quirked a brow, "What?"

"You fucked him, didn't you?"

It was safe to say, the meeting ended chaotically.

#il dottore #il dottore x top male reader #il dottore x top reader #il dottore x male reader #top male reader #top reader #male reader #dante's works

[gettiregretti]

Ohh, I just saw your wips and am curious about Clandestine!

(btw i love your titles. always so good.)

Thank you so much! I usually just sit in pure silence for like twenty minutes, hovering over an open WIP that has just been feverishly typed out, asking the universe to give me a title that I’ll remember next time I open google docs lolol

Anyway Clandestine is the fic version of the Galactic Courtesan au. It’s currently very short because I’m not entirely sure what to do with it

—

“I doubt highly that Miss Wren or General Syndulla would relish the role,” Kallus cuts in smoothly. “A force user would be too great a risk-“ he hears Kanan mutter some sort of relief from one corner of the table. “And Zeb is difficult to make inconspicuous, with the greatest respect.”

“None taken,” Zeb shrugs. “I’m a shite actor anyway.”

“I think Ezra expected Intelligence to send someone for the role,” Kanan interjects.

“They did,” Kallus fixes him with a pointed look.

“Someone with specific gaming house experience-“ Hera muses.

Kallus turns around and unfurls. His stiff posture becomes fluid, hips rolling as he suddenly stalks Kanan across the room. His body is sinuous. Zeb is caught like a fly in a honey trap; utterly unable look away from the new shape of him. He is different. Suddenly he is all confidence, just oozing seduction. Long legs draw Kallus in a crawl across the dining table, and he pins Kanan to the back of the booth with one hand.

They all watch, stunned, as Kallus leans in close to Kanan’s ear and whispers lowly. A strange restraint takes hold of all of them, the moment holding them on the precipice of awkward laughter and tense anticipation. Kanan slowly gets more and more crimson. He shifts in his seat, and when he lifts a hand to cover his cheeks, Kallus catches it and licks directly up his middle finger.

“Okay, okay! I believe you!” Kanan admits, voice higher than usual. He stands fast enough to jolt the table. Cups rattle. Zeb wants to throttle him.

Kallus runs a hand through his hair and sits up straight again, all evidence of his earlier persona melted away into stoic, low-level irritation once more. He slides off the table like he was never on it.

“What the, and I cannot stress this enough, fuck was that?” Sabine asks, breaking the moment. Around her everyone erupts with questions.

#kalluzeb #galactic courtesan au #getti writes #this one is also self indulgent #I was raised on 2002 fanfic everything was like Mulan Rouge #a part of those terrible days will always live within me #edit: I love autocorrect making it Mulan Rouge. now that would be a hell of a Disney movie

[bluegekk0]

Can I just say how much I adore your Grimm design? The more muscular torso in contrast to his slim figure in the game is incredibly intimidating on its own, but the added horror that is his cape makes him terrifying. I particularly love how you draw his mouth. The inclusion of his fangs and the way his face is structured makes him snakelike, especially with his scaly torso texture. He is certainly something bugs would see in their nightmares. Bravo.

The fact that he’s dating a puppy-eyed, round-bellied, therapy-needing shrimp beast makes him even better.

aaah thank you! it means so much to hear this!! i'm personally very happy with his design so i'm glad to see that people like it!

i will admit that the shapes i chose for him were purely self-indulgent. my brain goes crazy for top heavy characters, it's such an aesthetically pleasing silhouette design for me and i think it fits him very nicely, even if it kind of flips his body shape upside down compared to the canon (he's a lot more bottom heavy there). also, i think it's quite obvious by now that i miiiiiight have a lil crush on him haha. not in the usual sense (aroace here after all) but man his design is just so attractive on an aesthetic level to me, i'm obsessed with him. and judging by some of the comments i get under my art of him, it seems to be contagious. so it's a double win in my eyes hahahah

the cloak was a late addition, i struggled with it for a while. if you look at the older art i made of him, there was nothing really unusual about it. it went from a doctor strange like cape (the oldest design, i don't really like it now but i think it looked kinda cool at the time) to something closer to his in game sprites. the biggest change at that point was the addition of the fluffy collar, mainly because i thought it fit him but also because it was less frustrating to draw than those damn collar noodles/petals. i didn't get the doc ock idea until very recently, but it started as something i had in mind for nightmare king as opposed to just grimm. then i decided that screw it, he's a god even in his physical form. he can have a wacky tentacle cloak as a treat. rule of cool and all that. very happy that i went with that in the end, it really gives him that oomph. as a bonus, the way it behaves (splitting, twirling around, forming into sharp spikes) was inspired by the recent spider-man 2 gameplay reveal, and by extension venom in general

the head was also a somewhat recent change, i did stick to a more canon-like round headshape for a while, but i found it to look too pug-like, especially in ship art with fpk. so i returned to my grimm design roots and gave him a longer snout like on the very first design (long snout = more kisses >:) ). very happy with how snake like it ended up looking. i loved the idea of him having vampire like fangs (LOVE vampires. they're like, the coolest. and the sexiest) so the snake appearance was a coincidence, but i am so glad it happened. and like you said, it makes him look even more like a creature from nightmares

and yes, love me a good contrast in a ship. a big beefy vampire that oozes confidence and charisma, and a sad little lizard shaped like a sack of potatoes? yeah they're perfect for each other in my eyes. big "extrovert adopts an introvert" energy there, plus visually they just look really cool together i think. the height difference and the contrast in appearances really add a lot to how dynamic they are as a ship imo

but yeah thank you so much for this again! i went on a bit of a tangent there but it's because it makes me so incredibly happy when people say they enjoy my designs. i try my best to make the au versions of the character "my own" if that makes sense, so it really means a lot to hear positive feedback!

#ask stuff #feral pk au

[boxwinebaddie]

do you support the marjorine-is-taller-than-kenny agenda

oh, 100%, babey! ( im the short kenny, tall marj agenda )

like do you know how BADLY i want kenny to give off tall, mysterious stranger energy, like dirtiest white boy in america, slimmer than jim, smirky, leaning over the hood of cars, chain link fence, chain smoking cigarettes, trailer park pretty, putting the slender in slenderman...

BUT THERE JUST AINT NO WAY BABY!!!!

the mccormicks are eatin wheathins as bread like if you whip out a ritz cracker around kenny that is Fine Dining for him, i mean that. like he is malnourished as fuck like probably barely missed fetal alcohol syndrome he is nooooooot...tall.

like he is giving Short King. like shorter than stan which is saying something because i made pep!stan like 5'8 and 3/4 ( listen those 3/4 mean a lot to him let him have those...its all he can reach xx )

like kenny is honestly giving 5'6"-5'7"

which at first i was...hm idk...BUT ACTUALLY I LIKE THAT BETTER? because i feel tall kenny could just give Well Thats Just A Tall Medium Ugly White Boy but short kenny??? i know that man has the moves.

like charms oozes out of every pore, everyones pants hit the floor, rizz level 10000%, like he cuts his hair with rusty kitchen scissors but it some how looks like mullet modern art, the little gap between his front teeth is like where most people want to LIVE, i feel like his voice is crazy oceanic levels of deep. like that shit ~REVERBERATES~

kenny was S TIER on the cfpom fight list ( one bc he could probably seduce u out of the fight or steal whatever he needs off of you ) but mostly bc i feel like he could probably knock u out in one go but will probably jump around and watch you swing and miss and hit yourself in the face before hes finally like i'm bored, sweet dreams <3 LMAO

i feel like anytime some douchebag is like yeah whatever ur short! hes like ok ask your girl how tall i was last night ;) KHDLKSHLD AAAAA

anyways short king kenny nation i could write Essays!!!! abt this

BUT TALL GIRL MARJ!!!!!! okay okay okay....so marj is def like 5'11"

like cfpom heights

kyle: idk i forgot how tall i said kyle was anywhere btween 6'1-3 TALL

*insert stan wowza noise* i maintain that style would have made out way more if drunk stan could reach kyles face...we were robbbed

marj: 5'11"

stan: 5'8 AND THREE QUARTERS SOMETIMES THE DOCS GIVE HIM LIKE AN INCH OR TWO IF HES 5'10 ITS A REALLY GOOD DAY FOR HIM TELL HIM HE LOOKS TALL PLS josh hutcherson energy

kenny: 5'6" i said what i said argue with ur mom, dad or grandmama

cartman: hes like 5'4" idk so much evil in that compact body

but i feel like marj hit a massive growth spurt in like 7th grade and shot up past EVERYONE and it was like...woah. and i think it just made marj really dysphoric unfortunately because i think she got a lot of random attention for getting tall but was very awkwardly fumbling around in that body, not confident, feeling all wrong :(

went on a lot of weird blind dates with bible studies girls...was really unhappy and felt kind of like a freak im so sad i love you marmar

also linda stotch i guess is petite satan and makes fun of women for being tall or not uwu small and dainty and men for not being super macho and masc ( stephen is probably scary tall ) so being tall was always this uncomfortable thing for her like it made her ugly :((((((

which is insane because kenny was like WOOF WOOF WOOF BARK BARK AWOOGA AWOOGA ONE CHANCEONECHANCEONECHNCE TALL LADY STEP ON ME PLEASE IM ON MY KNEEEEEEEEEEEES

he was...in heat for all of high school. i wish i was kidding.

kenny x stan x kyle x jersey x raven x horny boy max security prison

( off topic but i DO think pep!kenny has kissed both stan and kyle, uh stan we have SEEN [ too much, i do think they get a little handsy when drunk smh, physical touch kings ] and uh...a past kyle was trying to...test a theory...a queery...and kenny had a really good answer...stan is going to be jealous no one tell him about that OOF )

but after her transition i think marj is enjoying living large, being like 6 billion feet tall in high heels, picked kenny up by the scruff on the back of his neck and just carries him like a the world most beautiful knock off birkin bag and i support the simp short kenny agenda...i also think that marjorine is much scarier than kenny or even kyle

i think marj is nice and classy but if u try to grab her ass she will put you in the hospital and be like woopsie do! <3 SHES SCARY IN A BLESS YOUR HEART SOUTHERN LADY WAY I WOULDNT TRY IT

marj being tall is so near and dear to me, i just feel like kenny is always looking up to her and chasin after her and when they were little kids she was like smitten in love with him, he hung the moon if he looked at her once a month but in high school she was like im not playing these little games with you kenneth mccormick! no sir! when you're done runnin' around you can call me then but watch out i might not answer xx CLEEEEEEEEEEEEARED HIM LIKE WHEW!

( she also full names everyone like stan has never been stan, stanley forever, kenny is kenneth, cartman is eric, kyle is kyle...period. )

aNYWAYS! it worked she whipped the hell out of him amen...BUT YES SHORT KENNY TALL MARJ SUPREMACY OR AT LEAST THATS HOW IT IS IN MY FANFICS GET WITH IT OR GET STEPPIN

-uncle nina, short queen...unfortunately...i act 6'1" tho

p.s. kenjorine and style def do double dates otherwise known as marj and kyle taking their boyfriends out for a walk...woopsie do! <3

#i had too much to say abt this #HELL YA TALL MARJ SHORT KENNY #like something abt kenny being like 5 nothing and rizzing the hell out of everyone is so real #he is tall enough to ride that ride #i am obsessed w him #i also love tall modelesqe marj towering over everyone in heels hanging out w kyle #marj is like wow im so happy to be here and kyle is like everything sucks im going to kill everyone at the same height #theyre both at the function facepalming watching kenny and stan do messy party boy things and take turns dding #im talking too much i hope this makes sense #also i am sort of attached to dirtiest white boy in america mcwhoremick #but i DOOOO see the asian kenny panderverse vision and i might canonically change that in rm but im not sure #ITS THE REP WE DESERVE #also re: kenny and kyle kissing i think kyle was in like 8th/9th grade had not kissed another boy #and was like kenny...i think i may...be a massive gaywad #and kenny was like baby...i have been known...but yes u can kiss me about it SKLDHLKHDS #and he was like whEw yep THANK YOU i am sorry i called u stan and kenny was like disrespectful i have way more ass than that but ur welcome

[colossalcriminal]

Hi, could you do house and his 18 years old stalker story. When his stalker turned on 18, he decided to call her and then they go to date and ended up with his house. She could be virgin and this is her first time with House. Btw i didn't ask, just explain my idea :), do you write smut stories?

Remarkable Day - g.h

Pairing: Gregory House x Fem!Reader

Summary: When a birthday present for his stalker turns into something more, House finds himself liking it.

Content Warnings: Allusions to smut, 20+ year age gap. Reader is estranged from her parents and has a little brother.

I don't write smut because I'm terrible lmao but I write everything else :) Also inspired by House and Cameron's date scene from s1.

It was my birthday a few days ago, so count this as my gift to you!

Cane hitting the dirty pavement as he stepped down after, House shook his head at the familiar frame, only this time she stood against what looked like a brand new car, keys mindlessly twirling around her finger.

Grinning at his entrance, Y/N straightened up. "Wanna go for a ride?"

"I'm good, though I'm sure there's someone else who'll pay you to chauffeur."

Smile not faltering as she was used to his particularly sharp humor, she continued. "Come on, doc. I just got it for myself, as a birthday present."

He scoffed, glaring at the car. "How old are you turning? 8? Are you even old enough to drive?"

"Close," She took a stride towards him. "I'm turning 18."

The doctor furrowed his brows. "Well, if you're 18 then I have, what's it called? Mad cow disease."

Excited at the opportunity to show off her medical knowledge so far, she retorted. "You'll need a brain biopsy for Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease."

Peeking into the car, House pursed his lips at the mail inside. "You got into Princeton, congratulations."

"Thank you."

"Now, let's say you got financial aid, that's still roughly 10,000 dollars. How'd you afford a car?"

"I got a job and I saved. I'm a big girl, I can pay for my stuff. Anything else you want to interrogate me about?"

Impressed at her confidence, he dug into his pocket, retrieving a sum of money. "Here, go buy yourself a teddy, as a gift from me to you."

"This is two dollars."

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I not living up to your rich - double your age - sugar daddy dream?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, tucking the dollar bill back into his pocket. "I don't want money, I want a date."

Feigning confusion, he turned to walk towards his bike. "I'm sure you can go find a Princeton boy to take you out."

"No, I want a date with you." She frowned at his disinterest. "Give me one night to show you a whole new world and get all deep."

He mounted his bike. "Happy birthday."

"You know my number if you change your mind."

Going about his usual routine, House had winded down with Wilson in exam room one. "You're not actually thinking about going out with her, are you?"

He shrugged, attention still captured by the the latest episode of Prescription: Passion. "There are no real cons to going out with her."

"She's 18!"

"Exactly!" He replied, word oozing with sarcasm. "It's one dinner, just for her birthday so that I don't have to see her every morning."

To be fair, he didn't mind being greeted by the young girl every morning. In fact, the one day she wasn't there had him feeling somewhat downhearted until she returned the next day with coffees for two in hand, claiming she had an errand to run.

It took him a moment to register the voice on the other end of the phone call, Wilson practically staring into his soul. "Hey, doc."

"One dinner, that's it."

"Lovely. Do I get to know where we're going? I have to dress appropriately." He could hear the sheer delight of her smile.

"Just look nice." What was he saying? She always looked nice! The oncologist shook his head at his friend's lack of real flirting skills, mouthing an overdramatic 'What?'

"Alright, we'll leave from your place, see you at 7:00."

-

She would be here any minute as he sighed in frustration, ditching the idea of a tie completely as Wilson advised him.

"What even attracted you to her anyways?"

"I'm not attracted to her."

"She goes to a university where the literal dress code is to cover your underwear and wear a shirt." He voiced. "Comment on shoes, earrings and the move onto DHA. Dreams, hopes and aspirations, and I'm sure she's got a lot of ideas on what she wants to be when she's grown up."

House ignored the joke, picking up a small box from the nearby table. The velvet container caught the other doctor's attention as he narrowed his eyes at it. "Jesus, how much did you spend?" He marveled at the sight of a gold chain, her initial hanging off it as a pendant.

"It's lame, isn't it?"

Wilson looked at him with a softer, sincere smile. "I think she likes lame."

A faint knock on the front door had House shoving the jewellery into his pocket and smoothing down his hair before answering it.

In the doorway, fist raised ready to knock again, Y/N stood with a dazzling smile. The formal dress was clad in was certainly different to her usual day to day ensembles of jeans and various tops. Perhaps it was something as trivial as seeing her legs for the first time that made his heart race, or the fluttering of her eyelashes that occurred while she greeted him in the most delicate voice. "Hi."

His speech had transpired into a light stutter as he revealed the small box. "This is for you."

"Oh, you didn't have to get me anything!" She opened it, eyes widening at it's contents. "Wow, oh my god. Thank you."

Not knowing how to respond to her evident gratitude, House's response didn't seem too delighted to any passer-by. "You're welcome, now turn around."

Catching on to his intention, she turned, softly gasping once the cold metal made contact with the warm skin of her neck, hair being moved away for easy access.

Comfortable silence clouding the air, Y/N was confused when he limped towards his motorcycle instead of her car. "We have a perfectly safe, doored vehicle right here." She stated.

"We also have a somewhat safe, un-doored vehicle over here."

"Somewhat?"

"Nothing is ever perfectly safe."

Knowing his mind was made up, she watched him bestride the bike with a sense of ease, shoulders drooping at the expectant look he gave her. With a sigh he held his hand out, heart fluttering when she perked up, using it to sit behind him.

She placed her hands gingerly on his sides, a small giggle escaping when he grabbed hold of them, wrapping her arms around his middle. "Maybe you are just an overgrown baby." He grunted at the squeak that erupted after the roar of the bike. "Don't be so afraid."

"I've never been anywhere near one of these before."

"How come?"

"Never had a rich - double my age - sugar daddy." Y/N teased, referring to the cynical joke he'd made earlier that day.

The rest of the ride had gone smoothly once she got the hang of it, occasional laughs from the wind in her hair had the older man smiling like a schoolboy, glad she couldn't see his expression.

She stumbled when getting off, a hand on her waist steadying her. "Can't have you fall and get a concussion, then it'd be a excuse for Cuddy to get me to log more clinic hours." House internally grimaced at the poor excuse, making sure to pull away incase she noticed how his hand lingered for a second too long.

They remained in silence until they were sat down in the restaurant, menus open before them. "Nice earrings." He complimented, remembering Wilson's lecture, doubting on whether he should be taking his friend's advice due to multiple failed marriages.

"Thank you."

"Nice shoes."

"Who are you and what have you done with Gregory House?" Y/N chuckled. "You don't care about my shoes or my earrings. Just converse with me, like I said earlier, I have a night to show you a whole new world."

The doctor averted his eyes to anything, the fancy glass of water, the menu, the slightly stained table cloth. "I don't know how to have a conversation. Without small talk, what is there?"

"We're having a conversation right now."

"I don't understand. I'm not charming, great looking, or even nice, your attraction to me is extemporaneous."

Tilting her head, the corner of her mouth tugged upward. "I always thought you had nice eyes, that your sardonic humor and wit was charming. I don't want you to be nice, or to serenade me at my window, I want you to be you."

He pursed his lips. "The 'be yourself' speech, how cheesy." His initial sarcastic tone had worn off when he spotted a certain group of three at the other side of the restaurant. "Oh, great. My minions are here."

Y/N hid her smile with the menu. She knew all three of his colleagues, getting on quite well with them when she often ran errands throughout the hospital while on an internship. "Don't want them to know you're on a date with me?"

House stood, nodding his head towards the door. "Let's go."

"Are you sure?"

"House!" Foreman's call had cemented their plans as the young girl was on her feet, pulling her date out of the restaurant as best as she could with his limp.

She burst into a fit of giggles at their somewhat great escape. The diagnostician simply smiled, not at their actions but at the sheer delight displayed on her features as her hand still remained on his forearm from when she had tugged him out of the restaurant and to his motorbike. "Hop on."

Laughter dying down, her expression was dumbfounded. "What?"

"Hop on." He repeated, raising an eyebrow as she hesitantly clambered onto the bike, getting on behind her.

Grabbing her hands, he rested them on the hand grip, steering from behind her. "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you to the best restaurant in town."

-

The moan that escaped her lips was comical as Y/N savored the taste of the burger in her mouth.

"McDonald's is totally better than Carluccio's." She commented, failing to notice the chuckle from the man before her.

"Tell me about you." He piped up, earning a slightly confused glance. "You know a bit about me, but I barely know you. Either this is a scheme to kidnap me, or you actually wanted a date."

The university student rolled her eyes, putting her burger down and popping a nugget from his tray into her mouth, ignoring his distaste towards the gesture. "I'm a boring person, doc. Just trying to live life one day at a time."

"So you're trying to live life one day at a time, yet you intern for Cuddy?"

She shook her head. "Tell me about your parents." Lips spreading into a teasing smile at his look of confusion, she elaborated. "I don't actually know anything much about you. You can always tell who a person is from how they describe their parents."

The man quietly sighed before placing a fry in his mouth. "My dad was a marine pilot, my mother was a housewife. Married for 46 years. She was afraid of confrontation, he was more the 'care when your eyeball's popping out' type."

"And you didn't gel with the 'care when your eyeball's popping out' type?"

"It's a good trait to have as a man, but a lousy one to have as a father." He took a brief sip from her coke. "Tell me about yours."

"Nothing much about them, really. I haven't talked to my parents in a year, but my brother's alright."

House interlocked his hands, intrigued. "Let me guess, favoritism? Betrayal? Oh, disownment!"

"What? No! I just hated living with them and they made me feel guilty about wanting to go college far away."

"Dammit, I thought it was something interesting, like them disowning you because your aspiration was to become a stripper." He pouted.

"I'd make a pretty good stripper."

"And I don't doubt you. You've got the legs for it."

Y/N giggled, closing the now empty burger box and placing it above his. "When I was 14, my brother was born. By then I'd already grown an aversion to children, but I thought my mother was an understanding person. I thought she'd understand that I didn't always want to feed him, or hold him, or that I'd get headaches when he cried loud. But she didn't, and I guess I was a little hurt when my own best friend said 'you're meant to be sneaking out, going out with friends and having a good time.'"

"So you're trying to get the best out of your time now because you didn't get to as a teenager?"

"Maybe. I have nothing against my brother, I love him more than anything in the world and raising him for the first four years were great."

House nodded in understanding, standing as he held his unoccupied arm out. The disheartened expression on her face melted away as she looped her own through his, venturing out of the restaurant and onto the street. Small but fat droplets of water had began cascading slowly. "So much taking the motorcycle, it's raining."

Rolling his eyes, he put his cane on it. "Get on behind me."

"What? But I'll be cold." She feigned a pout.

With pursed lips, he stripped himself of his coat, handing it out to her. "Here."

"Really? Won't you be cold?" She smiled at his nod and gesture to his blazer, allowing the warmth of the big jacket to engulf her. "Thank you, Greg."

They remained there, a foot of distance between them, eyes meeting in a mutual gaze. Perhaps the space between them was casually getting smaller, one of them, or both, leaning into the other. "Are we going to kiss?"

His witty remark elicited a lazy smile from the young girl. "God, you had to ruin the moment."

"Sorry, I'm just not good with kissing cues and- oh!"

Lips clashing against each other had morphed into a gentle kiss, Y/N's hand found it's way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as his fingers traced delicate shapes onto her dress-clad waist. "Did you just trace stripper onto me with your finger?" She queried, only semi-serious.

House did his best to look dumbfounded. "Well, I have no idea what you're talking about, dear."

It was evident the rain had intensified during their 'star stricken' moment, leaving the couple soaked in each other's arms. "My place is close by." He started, small smile gracing his face when she got the memo.

"Lead the way."

"We're taking the bike."

"Aw, shit."

#Gregory house #Gregory house x reader #Gregory house imagine #greg house #greg house x reader #greg house imagine #house m.d #house m.d imagine #Gregory house oneshot #greg house oneshot #house md #house md imagine #house #house x reader

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Styling Ten | Doctor Who HC

Link to my DW masterlist

Styling Ten would involve:

Considering Ten only wears a pinstripe suit and often the occasional tuxedo, there’s a lot to work with.

Don’t get yourself wrong now, you love his suits and find he looks dashing in them—although the black bow tie always seems to come with bad luck—but you love when he gives you the chance to pick his clothes out.

He noticed during your time as his companion that you loved fashion and spent most of your time in the Tardis wardrobe. You would go through all the different jackets and suits, accessories, shoes, you name it. Sometimes your eyes would linger on certain pieces before glancing at him.

The Doctor could piece what you wanted to do pretty easily. “Love, do you mind picking out an outfit for me today? We’re going to be in good ole nineties California so I need to look the part!” You’re eyes were full of hearts. “I’d love to, Doctor.”

After seeing how excited you were and practically racing to the wardrobe the Doctor knew it wouldn’t be the last time you would style him.

For your first time picking his clothes for a trip to California in the 90s, you did a stripped button up with cuffed jeans paired with a leather jacket and aviators. “What do you think, Doc?” “I think I’m ready to sit court side at a Lakers game!”

The next time he asks you to style him was for a gala which of course involves formal dress. You went with the classic tux, but instead of the bow tie, you fastened a classic necktie saying with a wink, “we don’t need any bud luck tonight.”

As soon as you’re back from a trip you’re already planning the next outfit for him. You scout through latest trends and styles—hell even if you two are staying in the present day you’ll bring back old patterns. Like one time you two dressed like you from the 70s although you were in present day London. “People are staring at us, Y/n.” “So? You look dashing, Doc. Of course people would stare.”

You both did receive lots of looks in public, but it was mostly because were admiring what a beautiful pair you two were. Some were envious, but the way you guys were dressed and carried yourself just oozed confidence and style.

You’re favorite pieces to dress him with are a leather jacker, button downs, jeans or dress pants, and honestly chained jewelry. Man looks like a stud on the daily, but when you work some magic he looks like he needs to be on the cover of vogue.

“You made me look beautiful, darling.” “Oh Doc, you always were before. Remember I always love you in your suit.”

#tenth doctor headcanon #tenth doctor #tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor #10th doctor headcanon #doctor who #doctor who x reader #doctor who headcanon #David Tennant #doctor who fanfic

[greatscottmartythatsheavy]

“I’ve got- I’ve got someone back home. Waiting for me,” Marty says desperately, chest aching at the thought of his boyfriend. He squeezes his eyes shut, giving his head a small shake in an attempt to rid himself of the image of Emmett’s body slumping to the ground behind his truck.

“Is she beautiful?” Doc asks, and Marty forces his eyes open again to settle his gaze on the scientist- and his whole chest aches with it.

“He is,” he replies honestly. “I think he’s crazy about me.”

He holds out the flyer his boyfriend had scribbled on earlier without a thought- only once it’s in the scientists hands does he realize the likelihood of Doc recognizing his own handwriting.

Doc’s gaze lifts slowly from the paper to the teenager in front of him only to find blue eyes already resting on him. Marty’s cheeks flush a light pink but he doesn’t look away, his lips pulling into a small smile.

“Everything okay Doc?” He asks lightly. The scientist swallows.

“Pardon me if this is presumptuous of me to ask, but… am I the guy?”

Marty is visibly surprised by the question, eyes widening slightly. Doc had been expecting flustered denial, any kind of denial really, or maybe an embarrassed and halfhearted confirmation.

What he isn’t expecting -and was in no way prepared for- is for the mask he hadn’t even realized the teenager was wearing to fall and for unabashed affection to warm his eyes. He wasn’t prepared for the warm uptick of his lips, the glimmer of something more in his eyes, or the pride oozing transparently from his voice when he replies.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “You are.”

Doc blinks. He blinks again. His face flushes and Marty’s smile is impossibly fond- and the scientist gets the distinct feeling he’s intruding on something despite Marty’s words.

“Oh,” he flusters out, and Marty muffles a laugh into his palm. “I see.”

“You okay Emmett?”

Doc inhales sharply, blush deepening. What could he have possibly done in 1985 to warrant this boys unconditional love- and for him to brandish it so proudly for a man three times his own age.

“I admit I’m surprised. I’m a little old for you Future Boy.”

Marty shrugs, giving a single nod in response.

“Maybe,” he agrees playfully, and Doc arches a brow.

“You don’t want someone closer to your own age range?” He asks, and Marty shakes his head instantly.

“I don’t want anyone but you,” he replies confidently.

The scientists face flushes anew and Marty’s smile grows impossibly. Doc looks away, embarrassed at how easily the teenager had flustered him.

“Well, I’m very lucky to have you.”

Amusement shines in Marty’s eyes and he chuckles. “Damn right. Don’t you forget it.”

A moment passes and Doc looks up, gaze locking with Marty’s.

“I don’t see how I could,” he murmurs, and it’s Marty’s turn to turn pink.

~~~~~~~

When Marty allows their lips to separate Doc smiles, rubbing their noses together gently. Marty whines in the back of his throat, returning the nuzzle as Doc’s hands lift to cover Marty’s where they’re still clutching to the front of Doc’s radiation suit.

“Welcome back future boy,” he murmurs, and Marty huffs a soft breath and finally dares to open his eyes.

Doc presses a soft kiss to the corner of Marty’s mouth, and the teenager leans into him.

“Hey, old man,” he mutters, and Doc scoffs. “You scared the shit out of me Emmett.”

“I’m okay,” Doc murmurs soothingly. “Just a few bruises behind the Kevlar. I promise.”

Marty sighs softly in relief and nods, leaning in to steal another kiss.

#my writing #oncie writes #mammett #I watched the movie again and had a lot of emotions

[litelysimping]

Been writing a lot of Doc Ock lately, all of it not worksafe. This fic contains mild degradation kink.

This isn't written with any specific version in mind, so you can imagine any one you want!

Don't Think

“Now, what do you say?”

You hesitated for a second, biting your lip. “Please, Doctor.”

He was on you in an instant, a claw pinned your wrists above your head with a surprising gentleness, especially considering his speed and the material his mechanical arms were made of. But Otto Octavius was careful, as precise and confident in his movements as he was in his intellect.

Otto unbuttoned his coat, pulling it off and revealing his white undershirt. You couldn’t take your eyes off him as he continued to strip away his clothing, until he was left naked and erect. He folded his clothes, placed them on a chair, and climbed up on the bed in front of you.

“Look at you, just waiting for me to make my move. Don’t want to think for yourself, do you?”

You eagerly shook your head, agreeing with him. At this point, you’d agree with anything he asked you. Otto ruffled your hair and gave you a pat on your cheek, his thumb briefly brushing over your lip.

“Good. It’ll be easier for you that way, not having to strain to get a thought in that pretty little head. Just lie back and let me do the hard work.”

An arm slid under your leg, wrapped around it, and pulled upwards, until your knees were resting on his shoulders. They held you in place, keeping you secure.

Otto’s tongue slid out of his mouth, and he licked a long stripe up your inner thigh, stopping just before he reached your dripping center.

His mouth was all over your thighs, licking, nibbling, sucking at the skin until they were covered in little marks. Every little tremble and twitch of your legs was felt under his wandering hands.

“Oh, O-Otto, please, don’t tease me anymore.” You pleaded, your face flushed deeply and your tone oozing lust.

“Patience. Just relax, don’t hurt yourself thinking. Let your dear Doctor Octavius take care of you.”

You barely had time to think before he pressed a finger inside you, your wetness letting it glide with ease. Your walls parted as he slid it further inside you, briefly brushing against a spot that made you buck your hips against him.

Just as quickly as it had entered, the finger was removed. You readied a protest, only for it to die on your lips, as his own had attached themselves to you, his tongue teased at your entrance for only a moment before he began to eat you out with a surprising enthusiasm.

Whimpers and moans spilled forth from you with every minuscule movement he made, and as he increased in intensity, so too did your sounds.

Otto’s hands gripped your thighs, his fingers traced circles on the sensitive skin. For once, Otto wished he had even more arms with which to hold you.

The tension was building inside you, drawing ever tighter, and you were certain you were close to cumming.

“Otto, I’m going-“

Just as soon as you spoke, he pulled back, leaving you teary-eyed and confused.

“Just wait. You’re not being patient. I could just leave right now.” Otto spoke casually, the expression on his face soothed your fears that he might be serious.

“I’ll be good, Doctor.”

He simply smiled at you, his arms lowering your body from his shoulders to his hips until he was lined up with your entrance, the tip just barely rubbing against it.

“I know.”

Otto entered you quickly, sheathing himself fully within your warm depths. His hands again went to your thighs, massaging them as his arms thrust your body against his.

It was the same type of stunning teamwork you had seen him use many times before in combat and lab experiments. All those prior times paled in comparison to what they were doing with you.

“You really are quite the specimen, aren’t you? You fall so easily for me, and yet I never grow tired of it. Truly marvelous.”

You stretched your arms out towards him and he obliged you, leaning down into your embrace and allowing you to pepper his face with kisses, soft little whimpers and gasps entering his ear with every thrust.

You wanted to reply, to say something witty or sexy, but it was hard to form words. Otto had been right, it was so much easier to let him do the thinking.

He was hitting every perfect spot inside you, your body writhing in his grasp, watching him above you. Even with all his talk, you could see him losing his composure; sweat dripped down his face, his teeth bit into his lower lip as he tried to suppress his moans. The great and brilliant Doctor Otto Octavius, practically a slutty mess, and all because of you.

His hand slid between your legs, rubbing quick circles on one of your most sensitive areas. “Cum for me, do it. Show me your devotion.”

It happened so fast, you barely had time to take in what Otto had to say, your mind felt as if it was finally going as blank as he had wanted.

You dug your heels into his back, holding him to you. Otto’s thrusts had become erratic, and it was mere seconds after your climax that his own burst forth, flooding inside you until it dripped out around his cock.

You wanted to stay like that, with him, forever. His head nestled against your neck, his body still heavily breathing on top of you, his cock buried so deeply inside that you were convinced you really had been made for him.

He pulled out, your combined juices oozed downwards. His arms lowered you to the bed, placing you carefully on the mattress. Otto followed you shortly after, pulling you close and holding you in his arms, his flesh and blood arms, the ones you used to dream of him embracing you with.

It wasn’t long before your eyelids felt heavy, and you drifted off to sleep, snuggled up closely to Doctor Octavius.

#doc ock #doctor octopus #otto octavius x reader #otto octavius #spider-man #marvel #not worksafe #fanfics #I've got like 1 other one finished and ready to post and even more ideas to write #Lite Work

[herb-whump]

‘Don’t ever get far away, Precious’

I’m sorry for a little break, but i’m back on my bullshit

taglist: @albino-whumpee  @torture-as-lovely-as-you

CW/ pet whump, medical procedures, dub-con kissing and touching, gaslighting, manipulation, derogatory language, dehumanization, torture, abuse, stockholm syndrome, creepy whumper, defiant whumpee, sadistic whumper, threats, always - ask to tag!

Ezekiel stood there stunned for a second but shook his head to snap himself out of it. 

- We're doing the check-ups today... right? - He asked quietly. Azel didn't mention it would be the new arrivals. 

- Oh, yeah, right! I almost forgot. - Sir Azel pulled the leashes and the quadruple amputee fell over. Ezekiel moved to help him, but before he could, number 734 already helped. 

His harsh stare was piercing Ez. The man looked angry, even if he didn't fight back directly right now, Ezekiel felt like he would, given the chance. 

- Sir Azel... I'm kind of scared of him... - Lucius spoke up finally. Pointing towards the defiant captive. 

- Don't worry Precious, if he ever gives you trouble, I will be sure to deal with it. - And Azel meant it. Ezekiel knew that stare. A truly angry one, serious and cold. Even Lucius seemed a little startled. But Doc smiled and went on. - So... Maybe you 734 first? Ezekiel get the microchips, please. 

- Wait but... they're in the other office. Sir, you didn't tell me to bring them... I... 

- I got them. - Nancy smiled from the corner of the room, handing Ezekiel the syringes, instant relief for the boy. 

Azel instructed Ezekiel to chip the captives, take their blood samples, and he would do the rest. Right now he left, so Ezekiel was left alone in the grey room. there wasn't much here, just two couches and one armchair and a usual cheap office chair, that was here only for the check-up. 

The man, with number 734, sat down on the office chair. His hair was brown like in the picture, with light ends at his shoulders, emerald colored eyes and a lot of freckles on his face. He looked around as if he was looking for something, while Ezekiel was preparing the bandages and syringes. The man nodded to himself. With one quick move, he stole the bigger syringe for chipping and grabbed the brunette, throwing him at the wall. He held him there with his stump, pushing the syringe near his neck.

- So now you're gonna tell me where is the exit or I'm gonna cut your throat with this. - 734 had a raspy voice like he screamed a lot lately. Ez gulped, looking at him, not quite scared, rather surprised. He let go of his crutches. 

- I... I'm gonna die anyway. If I tell you or not, I'm gonna be dea- 

- Cut the shit, you're forced to be here too aren't you. - He let go a little, sighing. - You have a broken leg, burned off fingers, and scars all over you except the face, it's not hard to tell... I won't leave you here either... - he finally let go completely. The man put the syringe away and wiped his face with his hand. - I'm Pango. Ezekiel, right? This fucker said your name. - his demeanor changed from a second ago. Now he smiled a little, but gently. He lowered his voice and almost laughed while talking. 

- I.. okay you looked right through me. But we... can't talk right now... - Ezekiel looked around, the others were confused and scared. - I gotta chip you and take your blood though, or else Sir Azel will be mad...

Pango nodded and sat down at the office chair again. Ezekiel grabbed his crutches and the syringe with the microchip. 

- It's gonna hurt a bit, but not much... - Seeing a smile on the man's face, he proceeded. He didn't even flinch, giving the others a needed encourgament. Except the others screamed in pain while being chipped. Pango laughed nervously. 

In the evening of the same day, Ez put away the now filled with chip numbers and blood information of the new captives, papers and closed the cabinet. It was a bad day, but seeing vigorous Pango, sparked a little flame inside Ezekiel. "I won't leave you here either" echoing in his head. He was planning already. The boy remembered how once he was hopeful and all, but he was always so nervous and unsure, unlike the confident Pango. He... was kind of jealous. He seemed so unaffected by things that happened to him, or at least not affected the same way Ezekiel was. 

It seemed that the torture just strengthened Pango's will to live, while for Ezekiel, it took everything including his soul. Ez smiled a little. Maybe it didn't take his soul whole. 

He got up from the chair and left the office room, a little happier than yesterday. Until he heard a loud crack followed by a cry and scream, sending a shiver down his spine. 

- I didn't know! I'm i'm i'm so-sorry.. sorry... p-please S-sir... - It was Lucius's voice, pleading. It was coming from his room. Ezekiel knew the happy time wouldn't last long, but he didn't think it would be this fast. 

- P-please... s-sir.. - Lucius wiggled on the floor, holding his broken arm with his other one. The blood was oozing from the open wound. The bone was exposed, sticking out of the bloodied skin. The blonde was ugly crying, his whole face covered in tears and snot. 

The blood was already sliding down and dirting his shirt. The boy curled up. - I told you to not go in there. Yet you did. So you warrant a punishment. - Azel stepped on the broken arm, pushing the bone out more, while Lucius screamed in pain.

- Ple-please! - he shrieked almost choking on his tears since he was laying down. 

The carpet soaked up his blood.

- No good, you ruined the carpet too. What do you think I should do with you? You wouldn't want to end up discarded, would you? I have many others, whom I could smother with my love. You don't seem to appreciate it, Precious. Maybe I should stuff you and put you on display? - Doctor laughed, while the boy crawled up to his legs.

- p-please n-no... no... - With the one arm he hugged Azel's red-stained boots. - n-no... 

- Or maybe skin you and make a beautiful purse for Nancy? She'd love one, I'm sure. 

- n...no... I -.... I love you s-sir.. I'd do...do a-anything... - he cried. 

- Anything? Aaaaanything? - the man chuckled. - Why should I believe you though? You have been nothing, but a nuisance. Constantly needy and unable to care for yourself.

- I p-promise.. I'll be useful... I promise... - Lucius squeezed Azel's ankle more. - please...

Finally, the doctor took him in his arms and put him on the bed. Slowly he grabbed his broken arm, licking the exposed bone with a grin. Finally, snapping Lucius's hand again in the other direction. He screamed terrified but he was silenced by the Doctor, kissing him suddenly. Forcing himself on top of the boy. 

- Be a good boy. - He kissed him again, this time pushing his tongue into his mouth. After a while, he finally broke the kiss. Saliva dripping from his lips. - Good night, Precious. - Azel stood up and left without any more words. Leaving Lucius with a broken arm, still crying.

#whump #whumpblr #‘Don’t ever get far away Precious’ #herb writes #pet whump #whump community #whump writing #dehumanization

[sunriseseance]

If there was an episode in which the siblings exchange bodies, who would you like to play who?

Okay I cannot tell you how much thought I’ve put into this. I have an entire google doc of the reasons each one would be great, but I’m gonna give my favorite answers and then ask YOU (and anyone else??? Oh my God??? What YOU think). Also, in my head, this happened at a fancy lodge in the countryside and they have to try their best to act normal while figuring out why it happened, how to go back, and how to stop whatever they were there to stop in the first place.

Vanya in Luther’s body is just too funny for me to pass up. Luther is a foot and NINE inches taller than Vanya (Thopper wears lifts and is 6’5 at default). Poor Vanya is hitting this body on every single door she comes across. However, she can finally reach the top shelf to get her own mug. She also is used to being diminutive, and she is No Longer That. She absolutely will be ripping the door off of the fridge. And the car. Her having to deal with the physical strength that hurt her in s1 would also be narratively interesting. Tom Hopper playing Vanya also strikes me as DEEPLY funny because he is such a Jock and Vanya so, so is not. 

As much as I don’t want to start a pattern, I think that Luther in Diego’s body would be sort of fun, because I imagine it’s the closest to the body he had Pre-Serum in that it is strong, and tallish, and broad. Diego would also throw a fit about Luther treating it well (I’m picturing a NOT ONE SCRATCH ON IT OR YOU’RE DEAD) moment. Also, Luther throws things a lot in season 1. Imagine him being able to do that with accuracy, but without really REMEMBERING that he can do that. Throwing a rock in frustration and, whoops, it hits whatever body the person frustrating him is in. That’s Not Fair! I also love this because I think so much that David is great at playing a sensitive idiot in the moments where Diego lets his anger fall, and I would love to see that always. Please imagine Diego’s face and voice saying “I’m just going to sit here, drink my beer, and get my buzz on.” Amazing. 

I want Klaus in Allison’s body because I think he deserves a good power, but I also think he is one that would appreciate the nature of the power as a double-edged sword. I think he probably WOULD use the power, but I don’t know that he would use it as frivolously as some might think, and this would be a good time for him to prove himself as, like, competent and thoughtful. ALSO as much as I think the physical substance dependence would get left in his body, he still has an emotional dependence and him having to deal with being in a taken care of body that he loves and wants to keep taken care of? Oof. Also both he and Allison smoke, and it would be hard for him to, like, deal with her body wanting that I think. Emmy playing Klaus would be fun because she has this inherent kindness that I think she just OOZES, and Klaus is mean. She is also a good actress, so that inherent kindness would, I think, make Klaus’s meanness feel even more shocking and interesting. Also I want to see her walk like Klaus. 

I would put Five in Klaus’s body, then, because Five got a REALLY REALLY good power and I think it would be interesting to see him saddled with a bad one. Suddenly, he’s in a body that cannot Just Leave, but it is one that is an adult. He also is used to alcohol dependence, and I think it would be interesting for him to not be able to escape that. Also him seeing ghosts is sort of cool given how many people he’s killed. And also he’s a fuuuuuuuucking terrible communicator so whoever is in Ben’s ghost body is gonna have to go through him. Yikes. I also chose this because I think Sheehan could fucking NAIL playing Five in Klaus’s body. He’s got weird intensity down to a science and he’s good at impersonations. Klaus body grabbing people by their lapels or threatening to stab them is also extremely funny. 

Diego in Five’s body is amazing immediately because Diego would hate being a kid as much as Five does, if not more. He is the only other one, I think, who would lose his cool at being called a teen when he’s actually an adult. He also shares Five’s bizarre sense of paradoxical ego that makes him just like. Threaten to stab people. AND Diego having a really, really cool power would be interesting. Who is he when he can do stuff that isn’t Throw Shit? Also, does he still try to throw shit? Does he accidentally end up on the roof? We’ve seen that Five’s powers basically get turned off by his emotions, and Diego is AN EXTREMELY EMOTIONAL GUY so that would be very interesting to see play out, too. Diego does NOT have a substance dependence, and him having to deal with physical alcoholism would be interesting to me. Would he even know why he felt like shit? Or would Klaus-Allison have to tell him? Aidan could rock a tender bitter jerk, as we know. 

Okay, sorry Allison, but I think putting you as Benthe ghost is the most interesting. Allison is used to being listened to, and looked at, and I think she has a complex relationship with both of these things. She is also used to having an extremely self-useful power that is completely under her control. Her suddenly being largely invisible would give her some peace, but also challenge her because it’s not just that she’s invisible to the camera, she’s invisible to everyone but Five. Fucking oof. And having Ben’s power means having something that isn’t under her complete control on top of having to go through Five. I think, also, that she is a deeply compassionate person and I think that spending time as a ghost would be interesting in that regard. Justin playing a kind character for a change would be funny, and especially one that walks with such grace and confidence. 

Finally, Ben as Vanya. He gets a cool power, and a real human body, and it’s one that the others feel obligated to listen to lest it end the entire world. He can just say what he’s thinking, now, always and whenever. This is probably a mixed blessing when you’ve spent 13 years able to say whatever you’re thinking with little consequence. He also has a power that is All Him, but not all under control. I think that’s interesting for a dude used to gut tentacles. Ellen has proven that she can play snappy and also bookish, and that is Ben to a T. 

These are mine, but I wanna hear yours! Or any funny body-swap scenarios any of you have!! My askbox would love to hear from anyone who wants to talk about this very fun idea??? 

Thank you for asking!!!

#The Umbrella Academy #tua spoilers #Luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #Allison Hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #answered #body swap au #just in case???

[mercieshana]

What’s up, Doc? (pt.2)

Teaser: Your seductive stand-in gynecologist suggests a more thorough and private inspection at his place. 

Characters: You x Jungkook 

Warnings: Some more Doctor Jeon, a pinch of DADDY, a sprinkle of fingering, two shots of dominance, a trace of forceful fucking and a hint of cum-play. 

Word count: ~1.9k

Note: I do not usually do pt.2s to stories, as I feel that they may not live up to my- or your standards and I am afraid that they won’t be nearly as good as the 1st. However, a couple of you were requesting a pt.2, so I don’t want to leave you guys hanging. I hope it isn’t utter trash >.<! Super nervous about posting this! Please enjoy, be safe, and excuse my typos! This is another 4am affair!!!

Read pt.1 here

“Hmmm, it still seems to be awfully wet down there,” his manly voice echoed through the room, “I think you need a more thorough inspection… at my house.” 

That thought consumed your mind, as you found yourself at his expensive place with your body, that was only shielded by your panty’s, pressed against the sheets of his bed with him staring deeply into your dark eyes. His dark orbs exuded danger, hunger, and dominance, as he peered into what felt like your very soul, making your heartbeat race yet again. He had you trapped between his arms, with his jet black hair a bit disheveled, his white doctor’s coat hanging open and his angry erection pounding visibly against the confides of his black pants. For a moment, there was absolute silence, with only the two of you staring into each other’s eyes; the sexual tension between the two of you being so thick that you would’ve easily been able to cut it with a knife.

Jungkook was the first to break the silence, after getting off of the bed. He slowly slipped out of the white cloth of his coat and then his shirt below it, exposing his wonderfully toned chest that heaved with every breath he took. The sight of that made you bite down on your lower lip and you pressed your thighs together in anticipation. While he was unbuckling the black Versace belt that secured his pants, he said: “(Y/N), let daddy inspect you, a bit more thoroughly.”

The second after that sentence slipped past his juicy, pink lips, his pants dropped to the floor and he pulled his large erection out of his Armani boxer’s. His cock was so big and angry looking, with precum just oozing out of the tip, with the light that was flooding in through the large wall of glass windows making it glisten, that it made your heart skip a beat. He could see the shock and horror that crept onto your face as his large hand wrapped around his dick to pump it a few times. He had nice big balls too and you couldn’t wait to feel them slap against your skin, but there was one problem... how was all that supposed to fit!? Nervously, you tried to think of some kind of escape plan or possibly a way to make him fit, but you just simply couldn’t think of one.

“J-Jungkook-,” your words were interrupted by him correcting you and reminding you to call him daddy in a dominant voice that made your insides turn.

“D-Daddy,” you started again, stuttering, “how is that supposed to fit?”

His loud, dark chuckle sounded through the partially dark room, sending a shiver through your whole body. He was going to destroy you! That demon!

“Don’t worry, (Y/N), it will fit,” he replied and it was hardly reassuring. You watched him make his way towards you, slowly inching closer and closer to you who was located in the center of the spacious bed. You couldn’t help, but feel scared. Your mind was screaming that you needed to escape this beast, but your body was frozen in place with desire and want. You could feel the area between your legs burning up, burning up for Jungkook’s attention. Nobody had ever made you feel the way he did. He was like a drug and you were already addicted. 

Next thing you knew, he was on top of you, attacking the sensitive flesh of your neck to leave more marks. You took this time to carefully trace the length of his monstrous cock with your small, delicate hand and what you felt made you even more anxious.

“I don’t think it’s going to fit,” you repeated, trying to wiggle out from under him, but his strong hand wrapped around your tiny throat without hesitation, choking you while simultaneously keeping you in place.

“Oh, I know you aren’t trying to run, are you?” he smiled deviously, his long tongue darting out to wet his sinful lips. Even if you wanted to reply you couldn’t, the grip he had on your throat barely made it able for you to make a sound, let alone breathe, yet it was still turning you on so much that you felt the fabric of your underwear stick to your pussy lips. You began to rub your thighs together for some kind of friction and relief, because the heat down there was starting to become unbearable.

Jungkook leaned forward, not loosening the strong hold he had on your throat and whispered into your ear: “Your inspection isn’t over yet. Be a good patient, so daddy won’t have to restrain you.”

His words made goosebumps form across your whole body. You had nowhere to run. All you could do was take the merciless assault he was about to start on your body that was waiting for him with excitement. Nipples erect and pussy wet in anticipation.

You watched him lean down to take your perky nipple into his mouth. The feeling of his tongue circling the sensitive nub made you release a tiny squirm. Jungkook loosened his hold a bit, so he could hear you scream when he bit down on your nipple. The sound that escaped your velvety lips made his dick jump.

“Your boobs are still fine, but what about..,” your eyes widened the moment his hand wrapped around your soaked panty’s and tore them off violently, removing them from your body and throwing them onto the floor in one swift motion.

“..down here,” he smirked, staring into your eyes, as he forcefully parted your legs with his legs and ran a large digit along the ocean of your slit, only to thrust it in not even a second later. Your whole body reacted and Jungkook smiled triumphantly. He did not hesitate to go straight for your g-spot and inserted yet another finger for more pleasure. Not even two minutes later you were coming undone under his touch with him watching your every move. The pleasure he was dishing out had become too much for you to handle and your whole body was at his mercy. Beads of sweat had formed all over your bodies and the two of you were panting, but Jungkook was not done inspecting you.

“Hmm, it seems to be fine, but let me make sure that your pussy is working correctly,” you heard him whisper into your ear, his tongue coming out to sensually caress the shell of your ear. You squirmed at the unfamiliar sensation, further boosting Jungkook’s ego.

Suddenly, you found yourself flipped onto your stomach, Jungkook’s hand aggressively tangled in your hair with your ass up in the air, facing him. 

“Daddy, I-I’m not ready! It won’t fit,” you protested fearfully. You wanted him so badly and you knew it, but you just couldn’t see how he was supposed to make his way inside you. You felt him position the tip of his cock at your entrance. Scared, you tried to push off of him a bit, the courage that was left inside of you immediately fleeing your being as soon as you felt him rub his head through the wetness of your folds.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N),” he said soothingly and you felt relieved for a moment. Your body relaxed. You couldn’t feel him at your entrance anymore.

“I’ll make it fit,” he suddenly and skillfully thrust his length inside of your tight core, earning a loud yelp from you. Oh, how you wanted to push off of his large dick that was stretching you out to the point where you felt like you couldn’t stretch out any further, but the hand he had in your hair was keeping you in place, no matter how much you fought.

“The more you run, the further in I go,” he threatened you. Your pussy started to tighten around him and it became even more aroused at the sound of his dominant words. You never knew that you were so into being forced into submission, but you were sure learning about it and yourself.

“Ah, daddy,” you shouted in pain and pleasure, but also to further play into the fantasy that you were having in your head. Jungkook fucked you like you had never been fucked before. He pounded your pussy so good and hard that you were left unable to form coherent sentences while you were tearing the sheets off of his bed. The pain that was present at first subsided and all you were left with was wild, animalistic pleasure and excitement that was rushing through your being. The way you felt his skin slap against yours, with his hard, big balls hitting your clit and heard his grunts and growls ripping through the hot air, made you want his cum. You wanted him to shoot his seed inside of you. Never had you ever had such crazy and wild thoughts. This proved that Jungkook was like no other that you had ever encountered before. You cried and moaned helplessly under his grip as his large frame towered over yours while he fucked you senseless. The way he was angling his dick and the spots he was hitting made it hard to hold on to your sanity. What felt like not even a moment later, you could sense yourself rushing towards your high and then you were inevitably sent over the edge, with stars now clouding your vision.

“Fuck, Jungkoooook~,” you cried out with your eyes screwed shut, cumming on his cock, hard. The way your pussy convulsed around him and gripped him tighter made Jungkook growl and pound into you harder. You could tell he was close, as his thrusts were becoming erratic and low grunt sere slipping past his lips more frequently. 

“I’m about to cum,” he moaned, almost breathlessly, sweat dripping down his body and forming beads on his forehead.

“Cum inside me, daddy,” you stated erotically, as if possessed by some kind of a sex demon. With that Jungkook lost all control and his potent, hot seed made its way from his balls all the way to his slit and shot out inside of you to coat your sweet walls. It felt so good inside you and it was so much that you were sure it would flood out the instant he removed his dick from inside of you. However, you stayed like that for a moment, his cock still inside you while his sweaty body was glued to your sweaty, the two of you struggling to regain your breath. As he lifted himself off of you and removed himself from inside of you a while later to retrieve some tissues to clean you and himself up, you turned to face him, his cum leaking out of your pussy. 

A smile consumes his face, as he saw your cute disheveled hair, your sexy “I just got fucked” expression and his seed dripping from your entance.

When he returned with a rag and some tissues, he saw you sitting up on the bed, a huge blush spreading across your face the second the two of you made eye contact.

“Are you alright?” he questioned, the caring and kind Jungkook you had encountered in the office a few hours earlier making an unexpected return.

“D-doc, I don’t feel so good. I think I should come in for regular checkups,” you whined suggestively and bit down on the finger that was positioned on your bottom lip.

A dark, mysterious, and devious smirk crept back onto Jungkook’s face and, from that moment on, you knew that this adventure was far from over.

#jungkook smut #BTS jungkook #jungkook #jungkook scenarios #bts #bts scenarios #bts smut #Smut #kpop #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfiction #bangtan #bangtansmut #bangta boys #BTS jimin #bts jhope #jimin #park jimin #jhope smut #BTS jin #jin smut #bts namjoon #rapmonster #rapmonster smut #BTS suga #suga smut #BTS v #kim taehyung #bts scenario

[fruityoosung]

alter ego

pairing : wonwoo x reader

rating : fluff-ish???? lowkey promiscuos

trigger warning : tattoos, substance usage, wonwoo being hot

“choi y/n you’re with jeon wonwoo” the monotonous deliverance from the TA stemmed a sigh that left your lips subconsciously. you turned your head to the right and a steely, dark and unwavering pair of brown eyes met yours. jeon wonwoo, the quiet, dismissive but very intelligent classmate of yours stared into you for a couple seconds before turning back towards his own assignment on his laptop. you merely nod your head to nothing before the TA dismissed the class, causing the flock of students in the history lecture flee from the lecture hall with grace, ready to end their day or attend their next class. some students hung behind to discuss the matters of the assignment with their designated partners and you decided to do the same.

you took your own sweet time packing your laptop into your backpack before a tall, looming figure casts a shadows upon you. you finally had a clear look of him whilst before your eyesight were betraying you. he’s the typical, lowkey stand off, quiet but very attractive young man, a character you often stumble upon at some point of your life. most times, it was more annoying than attractive to you because people like him are very contemptuous and outrageously pompous. you shot up from your seat and stood in front of him, waiting for him to talk to you first since you didn’t want to leave a bad impression towards your project partner.

“we can work on the project at the uni’s library. is tomorrow afternoon okay for you?” he asked, you didn’t realise how deep his voice actually goes. with the thin-rimmed glasses resting upon the bridge of his nose and the cashmere knitted, cream coloured sweater he was wearing, his voice was very uncanny to hear.

“tomorrow afternoon is fine, i’ll e-mail you the materials and we can work from there.” you replied, it was uncomfortable to you while he stood inches away from you and actively studying your face. he nodded and gripped the strap of his backpack before walking away. you did not know how to feel, you cannot deny his attractiveness and the stroke of heat that travels through your body as he stood close towards you.

this should be fun right?

you waited at the table near the windows with your laptop opened in front of you. you’re currently sorting through the materials and crafting a rough draft of your part of the assignment. wonwoo wasn’t late, you were just very early since the professor of your last class couldn’t make it to the lecture. you didn’t realise the time has passed as you typed through your rough draft until the sound of the wooden chair striking against the floor broke you out of your flow of thoughts. you immediately looked up and saw him sitting down directly across from you. being the somewhat inviting person you are, you decided to acknowledge his presence.

“hi, did you have class prior to this?” you asked, fingers resuming to type last few lines of your last rough draft. ever since the TA assigned the project to the both of you, you’ve never spoken to him verbally other than a few

e-mails regarding the materials and the submission of his rough draft for you to proof read and check. you were astounded to receive that e-mail since it was barely a couple hours since the TA had assigned it. of course, being one of the smartest kids in your class, his rough draft was nearly perfect and you only had to tweak a couple words to fit the theme better.

“i had a business management class.” he replied, his fingers began rapidly typing on the keyboard and it grew silent from there. it was almost distracting.

what’s more distracting is his goddamn features. you discreetly studies him as you finish typing the draft. the way the blue light from the screen reflected onto the lenses of his glasses made his eyes appear glittering almost had your heart lurching. the way he chews on his lips and furrowed his eyebrows as he reread the paragraph he wrote made you notice the warmth spreading on your face.

what the fuck? you swore. you’ll never have a chance with him, for all you know he probably hates your ass.

you shook off your thoughts and opened the google docs app and began typing the actual essay for the assignment. the lines above yours kept increasing and you tried your best to keep up.

what you didn’t notice was the sly smirk and the dark pair of brown eyes travelling towards your face, revelling at the sight in front of him.

he can get use to this

you were deep in your work before his alarm rang. thankfully, no one else was in the library since it was growing late into the evening. you looked up and meet his eyes again. wow, does he have really nice eyes.

“i need to go. i’ll make sure to send in the docs to you latest by tomorrow” he said before frantically packing up. you were dumbfounded. he’s probably late for something but you didn’t bother to ask since it is none of your business.

“it’s alright, this project isn’t due for another three days. you can take your time.” you replied softly, not wanting to stress him out.

“thank you y/n. i’ll see you soon.” he said in his deep tone that made your stomach do a flip. for some reason, you think your name sounds perfect coming from his lips.

since it is getting dark, you probably should leave the building before it gets too late.

you were in a state of boredom. your part of the project has already been done hours after you reached your apartment. to your surprise, the apartment was empty. maybe your roommate decide to stay the night at their boyfriend’s apartment. soon, the boredom slowly became unbearable so you decided to hit up the club for any sort of civilisation.

a seductive, red lip gloss dressed your lips as your fix the earrings dangling from your ears. the all black ensemble you were wearing definitely gave you a sense of high charisma and made you ooze confidence, perfect for a night out and warding off weird men. the heels you were wearing added an extra two inch to your strut. even though it’s probably going to be hell for you to walk in, you sure do look really good.

you took a cab to your favourite underground club, ready to take on the night.

the flashing led lights grabbed your attention as soon as you stepped into the dark nightclub. the atmosphere of drunk people in their early or mid 20’s dancing and having fun is never foreign to you. the bass boosted underground rap song pierce through your eardrums and made you heart thump along with every bass kick. you felt a surge of energy flowing through your veins so you wastes no time and walked towards the bar, before ordering your drink of choice for the night, completely ready to get wasted.

you are now on your fourth shot of vodka and dancing your way in the middle of the club. you’re a pretty sensible person off alcohol but when a substance is coursing through your blood, you tend to get a little too wild. the light changed and another song arrived through the speakers. you decided to leave the dance floor and return back to the bar to get another shot of whatever the hell you wishes

now i’m on my way to whatever’s waitin'

뭐가됐든 go straight (go straight)

fuck what they’d be talkin' 'bout

(fuck they talkin' 'bout)

their opinion doesn’t count like ooh

a loud scream can be heard on the dance floor, everyone began to vibe to the new heavy hitting bass playing through the very big speaker. a younger looking boy with bleached blonde hair appear with three other men on the stage

로또 터뜨린지도 어느덧

두달이 됐지 (yup)

나름 높아져, 벌농 인지도

man, 그 누가 알았겠니 (you get me?)

불가능해 보이던 모든건

수영이나 갔다오라해

wait, enough with vernon

원우형 here’s the torch

이제 가서 소각해요 man

even in your drunk state you couldn’t miss the rhythm of his name on stage since you have been thinking about him ever since the project was assigned. the craved, intricately carved, glass of bourbon wrapped safely around your fingers before you began sipping on it slowly. the sight you see next was nothing that you could’ve ever expected.

the red spotlight shined through the familiar figure, though he’s dressed so differently from when you saw him last.

uh 주위에선 그래 가능성 로또래

내가 노력만 한다면

대박 쯤은 그냥 터트릴거래

별의 별 놈들은 나에게 한마디씩 던지지

내가 볼 땐 넌 백날 해도 안돼

난 답하지 난 아직 어린이

발전 가능성이 높은 나에 비해 전혀 없어 넌

옛말에 똥은 더러워 피해

째려도 전혀 안 무서워

비교하면 난 박잘타는 흥부 너도 따라해도

넌 박치에 가깝지 내가 볼땐 니행동을보면 전혀 노력 금물 uh

너는 옥타곤 지옥에서 기어

난 바쁘니까 엄마가 보면 놀래 가사노동

할땐 주부들만치니까

나도 놀랬지 가끔 너 보면 빡치니까

넌 을이 없게도 그리해놓고 어디서 여기서 갑질이야

the familiar deep and heart rumbling tone of his voice pierced through the speakers and into your auditory senses. you focused your eyes towards the stage and there you see him, the man of the hour, hyping the crowd up like it’s nobody’s business but his. what surprises you his outlook, he appears more confident, more fierce, more arrogant and a bad news to literally anyone regardless of gender and preferences. he ditched the usually

thin-rimmed glasses and left the piercing cold and sharp eyes out on display. a black tight fitting tank top fit snug against his broad shoulder and chest. the purple, satin outerwear that’s slowly falling of his shoulders reveal biceps that could be envied by a lot of people and the huge written tattoos splayed on his neck and collarbones are the most unexpected part of him.

the smart and witty lyrics flows out of his lips perfectly against the rhythm of the overdriven instrumental. his motions in sync with the beat of the music made it seems like he has been doing this since forever, he wasn’t foreign to anything. that is not the jeon wonwoo you knew. the jeon wonwoo you knew was a quiet, smart and dismissive, not the one that oozes confidence and charisma like it is a switch to be turned on and off. you could not believe your sight. your heart thumped loudly against your chest with the music. the drink in your hand is slowly disappearing from the cup and into your mouth. you turned towards the bartender and asked for a refill, the torch has been passed from wonwoo to another member of his underground rap team and all you want to do is accept this as a dream and resume your night.

the song finally ended and the crowd went batshit crazy. you were still leaning against the bar looking at the stage still reeling in at the fact that the person with the rap team is your fucking history project partner.

wonwoo shared handshakes with his member before making his way towards the bar, ready to end the night with some good ol’ alcohol before another day began tomorrow. to his surprise. he saw a familiar figure leaning against the bar, drink in hand and cheeks flushed red. oops, his cheeky little secret have been exposed by none other than the person he has taken admiration to. the surge of confidence he got really made him a completely different person.

you mentally prepare yourself as you saw him walking straight towards you. you fixed your posture to appear taller and more confident even though you’re still inches shorter than his six foot height. you almost curse at the sight of him with that smirk playing on his lips. he walked past you and motioned for the bartender.

“i’ll have what she’s having.” he pointed at you, eyes lingered towards your figure for a couple seconds which made you almost cower at the sheer intenseness of the stare.

“so what brings you here. i didn’t realise this is your type of gig.” the question hung from his lips

once his drink is safe in his grip, you muster up the courage to finally speak to the new personality you just discovered.

“i think that question is way more suited towards you no?” you replied, a hint of mischievousness apparent in your tone.

the bronze liquid flowed from the cup and down his throat.

“oh darling, you may find me full of surprises.”

a/n : the edit was made by v follow her @/lovetagon

#svtxreader #seventeensmut #seventeenxreader #wonwooxreader #seventeen #svt #17 #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo smut

[grownups-are-the-real-monsters]

Here Today

Summary: Beaver spotted the man first as he & Jonesy strolled towards Derry’s kissing bridge, hand-in-hand. He was hunched over himself in a way that had to be might uncomfortable. Beaver stopped his loud laughter when Jonesy let go of his hand. For safety. 

They’d just bow their heads, walk past and maybe come back later to attend to their business if they saw fit. At least, that could have been the plan had Beaver not recognized the stranger. 

Fandoms: IT & Dreamcatcher 

Ships: Reddie, Jonesy/Beaver 

Word Count: 3,708

There was a man with bad posture sitting on the kissing bridge. 

A couple of things were wrong with him. Some were simply symptoms of a common cold (the cough, the stuffiness & the sneeze). But what was left (the breakdowns, the depression & sudden fondness for his hell-hole hometown) were signs of a problem much larger than that of a ‘sick-bug’.

The man with awful posture was re-entering a period of mourning. Like the time of the werewolf; the moon snuck up on Richie Tozier two nights ago and reduced him to a sad, hairy man. Slobbery too. But slobbery with tears.  

Each of his loser’s club pals had reached out to him that morning. Their texts were loving & perfect but awkward (through no fault of their own). Who knew what to say to their best friend who’d never officially come out of the closet on the anniversary of the man he never got to confess his full-love to’s death? Hallmark didn’t have the best cards for that. Some. But not a lot. 

Mike Hanlon had encouraged his Idea to come on down to Derry over the phone when he’d hesitantly pitched it. Once Richie told him about the carving, Mike told him to go on & head-out. Pay a sentimental visit instead of succumbing to his usual coping mechanism of crying & watching movies for straight men. ‘She’s Out of My League’ had been his original plan for the afternoon.

But sweet Mike was right, as he often was. So Richie negotiated a week off with his agent before the ‘real work’ in his schedule started. He came home...to the place where he’d grown-up...the place which housed some of his fondest and some of his most horrifying memories. It was that strange sort of balance that kept any feeling but numb at bay. 

{R + E}

It had still been there, of course. He hadn’t expected any Derry hooligans' to scratch it off or some shit. But it was still sort of surreal to be back again. He traced his fingers along the thick, cut-open lines just as he’d done down the tender ripped skin of Eddie’s wound two years ago. He shouldn’t have been as squeamish this time, considering it was only carved wood not the yanked-open & festering skewer hole of his loved one (Ha! He laughed like a disturbed & deeply depressed Fozzy Bear at that one!)

That had been a little over twenty minutes ago but Richie still hadn’t left. He sat now at the edge with his legs hung over the side. Not completely ready to go back to his lonely motel room. He thought about the Losers having to pull him off Eddie’s body down in the sewers which eerily lead him to his Halloween costume six or so years ago...Tom Petty’s get-up in the ‘Mary Janes Last Dance’ Video. 

He felt a sudden urge to vomit and cry at the same time. Because there was truly no way to avoid the pain. It would just have to hammer in his chest until it either passed or killed him. He couldn’t run from himself or his memories for very long. He felt a sick sensation of missing the time he’d first left Derry & was forced to forget everything and everyone. At least then...

No. He hated that he could even think about wanting that. He would just have to keep learning how to live without Eddie Kaspbrak. Shouldn’t be too damn difficult, huh?

: : : : : :

Beaver spotted the man first as he & Jonesy strolled towards Derry’s kissing bridge, hand-in-hand. He was hunched over himself in a way that had to be might uncomfortable. Beaver stopped his loud laughter when Jonesy let go of his hand. For safety. Derry was nowhere near as bad as it’d once been but you couldn’t be too careful when it came to displaying your sexuality in front of strangers, sadly. 

Though still, the boys held love for their home-town. After all, it was the setting of their found family and nothing was more important than the good ol’ SSDD gang. 

They’d just bow their heads, walk past and maybe come back later to attend to their business if they saw fit. 

At least, that could have been the plan had Beaver not recognized the stranger. “Jesus Christ-Bananas!” he yippee���d in that voice Jonesy usually adored but was slightly annoyed by in the moment. “That’s Richie fucking Tozier!”

“A very distressed looking Richie Tozier.” Jonesy corrected, hoping they were giving the man enough space & privacy that he couldn’t notice them yet. He nver understood his boyfriend’s obsession with the guy. To Jonesy, Richie Tozier seemed like any other straight white comedian. “We should probably leave him alone, Beav.” 

Beaver’s beautiful joy snapped into an accepted disappointment as he observed the man in front of them. Jonesy could see the ache to rush over was hard for him to hold back. It pained him just to see his boyfriend so deflated. Teased by such a great possible experience-

“I’ll be leaving soon, if that’s what you’re worried about!”

Came a sudden friendly & very Richie Tozier like voice. Beaver just about shouted as they jumped their eyes over to meet the stranger’s. He was tall and a little gangly with Buddy Holly glasses sliding down his nose. 

“Actually we were just trying to decide which one of us was going to rob you...” Beaver chuckled awkwardly & so unlike him. “We were gonna do a coin toss for it.” He added before slamming his hand against his forehead (quite forcefully too). “That was a joke, sorry...a dumb joke...” He mumbled. Jonesy couldn’t hold back his amused grin but resisted his urge to pull Beav closer. Instead, he walked forward to their conversation ahead, an eager yet embarrassed boyfriend following him. 

“You’re Richie Tozier!” Beaver repeated. 

“Beaver’s a bit starstruck.” Jonesy smirked. “He gets this same way whenever he sees a famous comedian just chilling in our hometown.” He chuckled and pretended not to notice Mr. Tozier’s red eyes. He got the feeling---actually it was more than that, he could very well tell the man was caught between a rock & a hard place with the little...trick he & the gang each possessed. 

“Hey, that’s ok with me.” He laughed & pushed his glasses up his nose. “Don’t see any paper...want me to sign a body part or something?” He joked and Jonesy knew exactly how Beaver would try and continue the joke so...

The taller friend slapped his palm over ‘Beavers’ mouth which made that squeaky old man laugh escape Richie. 

“Gary Jones. You cane call me Jonesy.” The young man held out his free hand to shake in a charming gesture which said ‘We do this bit all the time’. It hit Richie right in the grief bone again. 

“Joe Clarendon. But my friends call me Beaver.” And just like that, Beav’s confidence was back. 

Richie noticed the way Jonesy practically glowed when his friend spoke. “Richie Tozier.” He felt the need to introduce himself, like an idiot, even though they obviously knew his name. “But you can just call me ‘your hero’, I guess.” He laughed at his own lame joke which seemed to make the Beaver-guy light up again. 

He looked them up and down. They looked about twenty or twenty-one to Richie. Beaver was a short but made up for it in hair, which was long & hippie-like. He respected that. Most of his body up top was covered by a large Fonzie-Jacket & the bottom was all about the Doc Martens. Richie felt like he was looking at a bit of a modernized version of his younger self. 

Jonesy was going for a much calmer look of a light-blue flannel and sneakers. They looked like quite the pair. 

“What’s a guy like you doing in a town like this?” Beaver grinned, charm oozing so easily off him. One of the reasons Jonesy fell in love with him so quickly. 

Richie chuckled, swiping his thumb under his nose. “Thought I’d visit my old stomping grounds.” He shrugged. 

Jonesy shared a quick look with Beav as a feeling shot up his body. He got the idea through their...special talent that there was more to that story. And by the look of it, so did Beav. 

“There’s no way you grew up here. I would’ve known that!” Beaver smacked a hand to his chest. “Jesus-Christ-Bananas!” 

Richie quirked his brow at the Beav-ism & Jonesy briefly thought he might ignore it or roll his eyes like most strangers but instead...“Mary, Joseph & the whole fruit basket!” He shook his head. Beav looked like he might burst with respect and adoration. It was just about the cutest thing Jonesy had ever seen. “I can’t believe it myself sometimes.” 

The Beav takes a toothpick from his new wooden container (a gift from Mrs. Cavell) and pops it between his teeth. He thought-no-he knew that Rich Tozier was doin’ a voice. Not an outrageous one like he sometimes did on stage but one that said ‘I’m alright. Doing just fine. Nothing to see here’ and all at once Beav felt a little bad for bothering him again. 

“I ran around with a little gang of dorks.” He laughed, 100% sure he was about to dumb a lot of his tory onto these poor boys. Not all but some. “Lost one of them two years ago today...” He frowned and looked conflicted before adding “In the flood.” 

The boys started to nod but where Jonesy felt a pinch of something wrong in his mind, Beaver started having a full-on attack about it. Like in the old days. Days of Grenadeau and Josie. Jonesy felt his boyfriend shaking and looked to see him trying to repress it to the best of his ability before lurching forward with a grunt that sounded painful.

Richie ducked down like he might try to catch him if he fainted but Beaver popped back up with sweat running down his temple. 

‘What happened?’ Jonesy sent a message through his mind almost completely accidentally. 

Beaver looked up, looking deeply deeply disturbed and scared. He’d seen images he could not for the life of himself comprehend. ‘Dark places. Large sharpened legs stabbing through somebody's body? Something like that. Screaming and...?’ He looked at Richie. “New shit today, Jonesy.” He felt vomit whirl up his throat but he swallowed quickly. “I saw a clown?” 

Richie widened his eyes before vomiting over the edge of the bridge.

“Major gross-out!” Beaver whistled as he heard the plops of chunky puke hit the water. Jonesy looked a little green himself after Rich came up, wiping his mouth with general looking shock. 

Beaver was about to make another kind of joke when he noticed the guttural growl the comedic-stranger made as his body lurched forward. He hoped the guy could catch his breath before he choked on any more reverse meals. 

He stepped forward to offer him the bandana he kept in the jacket pocket but when they briefly touched hands, another sight hit him that was just as shockingly awful as the last-----

‘Beads of blood dotted the corners of Richie’s torn lips. Hands incapable of remaining clutched with the slickness of the sweat pooling in his palms. He had Eddie kneeling between his skinny legs who was trying to communicate something to him but the most Richie could think to do in those fatal seconds was to hope for a few things. 

The kind of hopes that were important to someone at the delicate age of forty. 

A large thump above his head made him flinch, Eddie’s fist briefly slamming hard under his chin. He fought back his pain filled yelp by clasping his palm over his wet mouth. His eyes darted wildly back and forth behind the minimal cracks on his glasses. 

The second hand dirt that he’d gathered on his piss colored shirt was now having a wipe down of maroon. 

Only the dye-job didn’t come from him. Rather, Eddie Kaspbrak who was now wailing above him as Pennywise waved him around like a magic wand. 

The hair on the back of his neck stood. He popped his hand off the tight grip he’d had on his chin. The satisfying pop sound came with a small following gurgle. Gasps of choked breaths rushed out from his clotting throat. 

But none of that mattered because the love of his life was being murdered right in front of him.

He screamed.’ 

Beaver screamed too. Not as loud but just as horribly pained. 

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

“So let me get this straight...” Richie paced back-and-forth on the bridge while Beaver & Jonesy tried to follow him, amusingly. They’d each given each other new and semi-honest backgrounds now. Richie’s was hard to understand without all the pieces but beyond crazy still. “You’re in a group of friends, from Derry-” He laughed like a crazy person. Beaver loved it. And oddly, so did Jonesy. “And you all have these...powers?”

Jonesy nodded, now walking in-pace with the older man. “You got it.” He chuckled. 

“There’s five of us. How many do you have?” Beaver added, standing on his tip-toes. 

Richie stopped moving. “There’s seven-” He paused. Thinking of the cruel way Stanley & Eddie had been taken away from them. “Five left though.” He looked like he wanted a cigarette so Beaver instinctively held out a tooth-pick. 

When the comedian actually took it, Jonesy saw Beaver smile so wide it looked like it might break his gorgeous little face. For a moment the pair so alike just stared at each other. It was something of a little stand-off that Jonesy was about to question when a different thought popped into his brain. “Whoever died this day-?”

Richie slid down against the wood and sat. “Eddie.” His eyes glazed over for a moment before falling on tiny Beaver’s huge Doc Martens. 

Jonesy swallowed, hoping yet knowing he wasn’t wrong. “Was he your...?” He licked his lips in thought. But Richie cut him off by looking back up with freshly-red eyes. 

“Almost. Maybe.” He shrugged, rolling his toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “Slipped through my f-f-fingers-fuck. Starting to sound like stuttering Bill.” He laughed but the boys weren’t sure who that was. 

The three of them were now sitting on the bridge together. 

“He didn’t know. We left him down there and he didn’t even fucking know I was in love with him.” He sighed, not wanting to think about how weird the day was starting to become. “He was afraid of the dark.” He shrugged, holding the tooth-pick between his fingers, rolling it back-and-forth.

“Taste good like a cigarette should, huh?” Beaver mumbled after a few minutes and again Jonesy was sure that Richie wouldn’t appreciate that reaction but the man surprised him with a hearty laugh. 

“It’s like the song says; I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain. Seen sunny days that I thought would never end. Seen lonely times when I could not find a friend. But I always thought that I’d see you again...” Beaver raised his tooth-pick, Richie followed without question & Jonesy raised his pinky finger. 

“How’d you get to be such a funny kid, huh?” Richie quirked his brow. 

Jonesy smiled. “Born that way.” He slapped Beav’s knee gently. 

“Overactive imagination and anger issues.” Beaver pushed Jonesy back by the face and giggled when Jonesy just let him do it. 

Richie watched the short little spitfire slap-fight his pal and felt sick to his stomach by how much the young man reminded him of himself...and of Eddie only with a tooth-pick holder clutched in his hands instead of the inhaler.

Jonesy felt a short breeze pass over them. “Beav brought me here to show me some carving he did when we were little.” He glanced at his boyfriend with extreme affection. Both knew Richie was safe now. 

“Our initials in a heart!” Beaver whistled. “Because little Beav didn’t know how to express his feelings.” He mocked a sweet voice. 

Richie laughed, chin to the sky. “You gotta be shitting me.” He leapt to his feet and gestured for them to follow him. Which they did without hesitation. “I came here for a reason today too.” He pointed towards his old carving with an unbelievable amount of pride and utter amazement. Another coincidence. 

{R + E}

The younger men each stared at the carving with wonder and appreciation. Beaver kneeled down and traced it with his fingers just as Richie had done just a half-hour ago. Jonesy simply looked off with vague amusement as he threaded his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair, Richie supposed he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. 

“My friend, Mike...Mike Hanlon. He thought it’d be good for me to come up here today just to...” He faded off to wave his hands about, not knowing how to finish. The boys looked up with happy looking grins. 

“Mike Hanlon?” Jonesy shook his head with joy. “He was our childhood librarian.” His tongue ran across his lips & he was most surely seeing flashes of his childhood. And maybe feeling a bit like time was passing by too quickly. 

‘Damn kid was barely twenty-one though’. Richie thought bitterly & fondly. 

Beaver nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. Nice guy. He helped me check out my Playboy’s that one time.” He stuck a thumb into Jonesy’s shoulder which was slapped away with amusement. His smile faded to an exaggerated grimace. “It was always weird to go there after that.” 

Richie couldn’t help but laugh again with the jovial young men. It lasted about twenty seconds before it turned into hoarse sobs. He turned away from them, chest hurting. “Fuck, man! This is embarrassing as shit.” He managed a small chuckle through it. 

Jonesy looked at him sympathetically, hearing all of Beaver’s thoughts of ‘I wish Henry were here’.

“SSDD, huh?” Jonesy did the best he could and took pride in himself when the man turned. “Same shit, different day.” He added. 

Richie chuckled again, a beautiful one. “Yeah--yeah, I’ve heard it before.” He shook his head and leaned onto the railing. He genuinely looked cheered up by that simple phrase, sharing a private & entertained look with Beaver, who Jonesy would later call his soul-son. 

“We should give you our other friend’s number, he’s studying to be a psychologist--”

“Psychiatrist, Beav.” Jonesy corrected.

Beaver shrugged, waving his hand. “Psychiatrist, whatever. He may be able to help your fragile mental state.” 

Jonesy accepted just then that his boyfriend could never push too far when it came to Richie because the Tozier man recognized the Beav for what he was. And that would be someone very similar to himself. 

It was strangely beautiful. 

“What I saw was...” Beav faded off, eyes twitching. It was hard for him to put to words just how gut-wrenching the scene was. “Awful. I can’t imagine what you must have gone through or are going through.” He shook his head. 

Jonesy nodded, rubbing a comforting hand down his boyfriend’s arm. “I only just felt it & I wanted to die.” He wondered if that was extremely rude to say. 

Richie squinted. He was reminded of a younger Stanley Uris & his ability to see...to understand things past the other loser’s comprehension. He felt a strong urge to insist his losers come back down to Derry just to meet these home-visitors too. Maybe it was meant to be. 

“It’ll be hard to get over the fact that my vision of Eddie & I getting together in my head....” He bit into his cheek “Well, it’s going to have to stay there forever.” He looked up at the happy former Derry citizens couple as they instinctively held each-other’s hands tighter. He nearly choked with jealousy. “I loved him for a few years, forgot him for a good twenty-seven more and now...” He waved his hand in-front of him in a tight spiral. 

“You’re lonesome all the time since leaving your baby behind on Blue Bayou, huh?” Beaver flicked his tooth-pick. The sky grew a little bit cloudy over their heads and Richie Tozier burst into a fit of giggles. 

“You could say that, kiddo.” He crossed his arms, looking ready to drop the subject all together now. “And I’m not gonna say anything more about that fucking clown before you ask.” Rich smiled, pointing a finger at Jonesy who truly was about to ask more about that creature the comedian briefly mentioned only enough to explain Beaver’s vision. 

“I’ve made your nice little trip about me, sorry.” He added. “See, making people miserable is a talent of mine. I’m a great comedian in that way.” He rolled his eyes, standing up straight. 

“You’d be better if you wrote your own material. I’d like to hear some jokes about that horrible trauma you talked about.” Beaver giggled as he bit hard into his toothpick. Richie burst into another fit of genuine laughter. “My trauma is the center of my comedy-” He smirked. 

Jonesy frowned, thinking of the past and of men like Richie Grenadeau who they had once dreamed dead. He softly pinched the back of his boyfriends palm. If Tozier could keep some cards close to his chest, so could they. At least for now. 

“Ow! Bitch-in-a-Buzzsaw!” Beaver whipped his hand back and sucked on his skin like a child. Jonesy tried not to giggle as Richie looked on with confusion. 

He shrugged in response. “I just-”

“Nah, I got it.” He waved a hand from his temple to the vague direction of Jonesy’s. “We don’t have to tell each other everything. Hell, we’re still strangers.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked off in the direction of his carving. 

“But soon to be best friends.” Beaver added, breaking his lips free from the moist spot on his hand. Richie and Jonesy had a nice shared laugh at the charming boy. 

They walked a ways up the bridge to see Richie Tozier off, in some silent agreement. Jonesy felt a rush of disappointment pass through him but it was quickly squashed by the eagerness he had for his date with Beaver. 

As the group walked him over the bridge, Jonesy caught sight of little Beaver’s old carving...in the shape of a heart...

{B + J} 

#idk #i dont think i did a good job with this #i tried but #ahhhh #dreamcatcher #Stephen kings IT #reddie #beaver/jonesy #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #Gary Jones #beaver clarendon #dreamcatcher (2003) #IT by stephen king #it chapter one #it chapter two #my fanfiction

[wordsysayswords]

After picking Wash up on Sidewinder, it's going to take everyone a while to get used to the new living arrangements. Especially Wash, who's a bit directionless now that he's finally free of the Project. Tucker doesn't care for Blue Team's new leader. But he can't help noticing some of the man's odd habits and wondering what caused them.

-

Part 2: Sleeping Habits

It hits Tucker that violently shaking the sleeping Freelancer out of a nightmare might be an exceptionally stupid idea at the exact same time Washington headbutts him in the nose.

Or, Wash wakes up swinging.

-

Washington is ten different kinds of weird.

First of all, after he was done being unconscious from blood loss following the shit show on Sidewinder, the man didn’t sleep for three days. Tucker knows because he didn’t sleep for two. At the time, Tucker wasn’t confident Washington wasn’t going to murder them in their beds. But the knowledge that Wash was healing from a fuck load of broken ribs and other injuries—forcing him to move around the base in a distinctly painful-looking shuffle—made Tucker feel a bit safer. That and keeping his sword under his pillow while he slept.

-

Then there’s the fact that Washington might be the lightest sleeper Tucker’s ever encountered. A few days after Wash starts actually sleeping, Tucker is sitting awake in his room reading. He sneezes, and ten seconds later, Wash is standing in the doorway like the creepy omen of death he is.

Tucker startles so hard he almost falls off the bed.

“Jesus shit!” Tucker hisses, grabbing his chest. “Have you ever heard of knocking? Or, I don’t know, breathing?”

“I heard something,” Wash says dully, not moving from where he stands in the shadows of the hall. Hunched and pale from his injuries, the man looks like a fucking wraith.

“I sneezed,” Tucker tells him. “You come all the way here to say ‘bless you?’” Washington’s room is at the opposite end of the hallway.

“Oh,” Wash says quietly. “Okay.”

With that, the man turns and fades back into the darkness. A few moments later Tucker hears Wash’s door click shut.

“Fuckin’ weirdo,” Tucker mutters and goes back to reading.

-

A week into the new sleeping arrangements, Tucker wakes up to a figure standing over his bed.

Tucker lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched shriek, clawing at the blankets. He’s surprised it took Wash a full seven days to want to strangle him with his own bedsheets. For most people, it only takes about twenty-four hours—

“Tucker,” Caboose shushes. “It’s me.”

“Caboose,” Tucker growls, trying to get his heart rate back under control. He heaves a breath. “I swear to god, I’m gonna count to three, and the mustard better be back in the fridge.”

“I am not doing...that thing I did not do that time...this time,” Caboose says. “It’s Church.”

“Church?” Tucker blinks a few times before scowling. “You mean Agent Washington.”

“It’s Agent Washington.” Caboose corrects, deflating slightly. His hands wring the front of his t-shirt. “He is making noises.”

Tucker rolls over, cocooning himself in the blankets. “Then tell him to keep it down.”

Caboose prods at his back. “Nooo, Tucker. They are not good noises.” He pauses. “I think Agent Washington is not very okay.”

Tucker grits his teeth. He doesn’t give a flying fuck how “not very okay” Wash is. But Tucker should at least make sure those noises aren’t the Freelancer loading a pistol to shoot them all.

“Fine,” Tucker grumbles, tossing the covers aside. “Where’s he at?”

“His room.”

That’s unusual. It’s after three in the morning, and Wash is usually up wandering the base by now with a lost look on his face.

“Go back to bed,” Tucker tells Caboose. He stashes his energy sword in the pocket of his pajama pants and heads for the door. “I’ll take care of it.”

Caboose nods and shuffles off to his own room, while Tucker heads for Washington’s.

Halfway down the hall, Tucker hears it. Whimpering.

The sound stops Tucker in his tracks. He strains his ears because he’s gotta be hearing things but no, there it is again. A dragged out whine followed by a strangled gasp.

Tucker rocks back and forth on his heels. He’s got half a mind to turn around and go back to bed—maybe close Caboose’s door on the way so the noises don’t carry and wake him again.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” Tucker mumbles. He eyes the door at the end of the dark hall.

Tucker hadn’t thought this far ahead when he’d agreed to let Wash come home with them. In Tucker’s defense, he’d been really fucking tired at the time. It had been a long, shitty day, and he was sore, and his fingers were numb with cold, and he just wanted Caboose to stop talking (“Can we keep him? Please, Tucker? Can we? Please, please, please?”).

A high keening sound, louder than before, floats down the hall. Tucker winces, eyeing the door at the end of the hall.

Washington isn’t his friend. They’re hardly acquaintances. Wash barely speaks when spoken to, relying mostly on noncommittal shrugs to communicate. Okay, sure, Tucker hasn’t exactly been putting effort into becoming besties with the guy, but he’s a weird, spacey murderer. Who would jump to make friends with him? Well, Caboose, but that’s not the point. The point is, Tucker really doesn’t want to deal with whatever the hell Wash has got going on.

So, why’s he opening the door to Washington’s room?

-

Wash, Tucker thinks, sleeps like a dead person.

He’s flat on his back, and his arms and legs are pulled in tight like he’s lying in a coffin, one hand tight against his chest while the other snakes under his pillow. Even in the dim light, Tucker can see Washington’s stiff as a board. He’s on top of the covers despite the chill of the room, and every inch of him is tense and trembling so hard Tucker’s muscles ache in sympathy. Wash tosses his head against the pillow, a low whine escaping his throat. Tucker finally remembers how to speak.

“...Hey, uh,” Tucker whispers. He clears his throat and tries again louder, “Washington?”

His face screws up in pain, sweat-damp hair sticking all directions. He lets loose a long, shuddering gasp that echoes off the bare cement walls. No wonder Caboose woke up.

Tucker edged towards the bed. “Dude, are you, like, fucking dying? Cause that’d kind of suck…”

Tucker can hear his teeth grinding as the man clenches his jaw and shudders away from something unseen. His hands claw at the blankets. He’s shaking head to toe. It’s like something out of an exorcism movie—even before Wash throws back his head and screams.

Tucker jumps back. “Holy mother—fuck! ”

But Wash keeps on howling like he’s being burned alive, raising the hair on the back of Tucker’s neck.

“Hey, fuck, Washington—come on!” Tucker shouts. He fumbles for Wash’s shoulder.  “You need to cut it—”

It hits Tucker that violently shaking the sleeping Freelancer out of a nightmare might be an exceptionally stupid idea at the exact same time Washington headbutts him in the nose.

Pain explodes through Tucker’s face, blinding him. Something slams into his chest so hard the air is ripped from his lungs and his feet leave the floor. He crashes to the concrete on his ass. The back of his head hits the floor, rattling his teeth.

Maybe Tucker blacks out for a second or maybe he just blinks, but the next thing he knows Agent Washington his kneeling on his chest with a hand to his throat.

“Fuck—” Tucker gasps but is quickly cut off when Washington presses down on his windpipe.

“Washin...” Tucker chokes, “dude—get off. It’s me…”

Tucker paws at Freelancer’s wrist, but the man doesn’t flinch. Washington’s eyes are unfocused, staring straight through his teammate and sending cold crawling up Tucker’s spine. Washington might be awake, but nobody’s home. His face is expressionless even as his chest heaving with every breath. Wash’s hand grips Tucker’s throat—not enough to cut off his air, just enough to keep him down. Where’s his other hand—oh fuck.

Tucker almost shits himself right then and there because Washington has a fucking knife raised above his head.

Tucker’s hand flies to his pocket, grabbing for his sword. It’s out of reach.

He squeezes his eyes shut. Where’s Wash going to land the blade? His face? His chest? Oh, god, make it quick. Caboose and Junior will be so upset.

One second. Two seconds. Tucker sneaks a peek up at the Freelancer. Wash is frozen in place, knife still raised above his head, but Tucker can see the hand shaking.

“Washing—” Tucker tries, but the hand at his throat twitches, and he shuts up. Tucker’s pulse pounds in his ears. Those hazy eyes aren’t getting any clearer, still panicked and unseeing.

Tucker swallows hard. He’s not stupid enough to think he can win a fight with Wash—especially pinned down without his sword.

Slowly, with shaking hands, he lets go of Washington’s wrist and lays his hands back against the floor. A gesture of surrender.  

“Wash,” Tucker breathes. Wash shudders ever so slightly but doesn’t tighten his grip so Tucker keeps going. “Wash. It’s me. Tucker. It’s...okay. You’re okay.”

Washington sucks in a breath. It’s almost impossible to see in the dark room, but Tucker thinks there is a flicker of life in those blank eyes. Tucker keeps perfectly still, stomach-churning. He suddenly becomes aware of the blood oozing from his nose and streaming down either side of his face.

“I need,” Tucker whispers, “you to. Drop. The. Knife.”

Wash is trembling from head to toe now, gaze locked on Tucker’s throat. Tucker can’t breathe, and it has nothing to do with Wash’s grip on his windpipe.

“Wash, wake up.” Tucker’s murmurs turning into pleads. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Tucker? Church?”

Wash’s head shoots up. His eyes fly to the door as Caboose creaks the bedroom door open. Tucker makes his move.

Oh, please don’t kill me, Tucker thinks wildly as he raises a fist and brings it down on the back of Wash’s neck—hard.

It was something that kept coming up when Doc was piecing the Freelancer back together after the fight with the Meta. No one touches the back of Wash’s neck. Doc only made that mistake once, and if Wash hadn’t been suffering from a pretty serious concussion, the Freelancer probably would have snapped the medic’s wrist clean in half. The whole area is a mess of neat surgical scars, jagged scar tissue, and frightening looking metal implants that look a lot more...experimental than the tidy ones the sim troopers are outfitted with. It hurts like hell to look at.

And Tucker’s betting it feels a lot worse to have someone bury their fist in it.

The effect is instant. Wash seizes up and crumples. Tucker kicks his legs, catching the man in the stomach, and hurls him off of him.

Tucker scrambles to his feet and collides with Caboose on his way to the door.

“Fucking Christ,” he wheezes. Tucker clutches at the hulking soldier’s shirt to keep his shaking legs from giving out. “Christ fuck…”

Caboose’s eyes are wide, looking down at Tucker and then across the room.

“...Church?” He asks, voice too small for such a hulking soldier.

Tucker follows his gaze.

Washington is hunched on hands and knees with one white-knuckled hand gripping the back of his neck. His forehead is pressed to the floor as ragged gasps are dragged out of him—like he was the one that almost got fucking choked out.

“What the fuck?” Tucker wheezes, wiping at his nose and smearing blood across his face.

Washington jolts violently and scrambles away from them, pressing his back to the wall. He blinks around the room as if he’s just woken up, his eyes landing on Tucker and Caboose, and his breath catches for a moment. Then his eyes flicker down to the knife on the floor at his feet.

“O-oh, god” he breathes, voice hoarse from screaming. His arms curl around his head, and his knees are pulled to his chest. “W-what-t did I-I-I…”

“What the fuck?” Tucker says again, louder this time, and Wash flinches, pressing back against the wall like he’s trying to disappear.

“G-get…” Washington studders. He sucks in a long breath, and then,

“Get out!” Wash shouts.

“What the hell is wrong with you, you crazy fuck?” Tucker snarls back, happy to replace the fear bubbling in his chest with anger.

“Go away!” Wash screams, curling even tighter into a ball. “Get away from me!”

Tucker grabs Caboose by the arm and drags him from the room. He slams the door shut behind them, sending a tremor rattling through the base.

“Psycho freak!” Tucker yells, and he shoves Caboose down the hall to his room.

Behind them, Wash’s lock clicks into place.  

#red vs blue #rvb #agent washington #lavernius tucker #michael j caboose #fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #fan fiction #angst #hurt/comfort #wordsywriteswords #wordsy writes words

[guy-am-i]

but on another note, i keep stopping to wonder what exactly caused guy’s inventions to start exploding without fail, to the point where he would hinge on them doing it for success (guy you’re so resourceful and smart ily)

in guy’s childhood, obviously, his inventions never exploded. the explosions have never been an inherent part of himself. something must have changed at some point, from when he moved out to his later adulthood (shown in some flashbacks) that resulted in this whole thing

from the rash girl analogy, it’s fairly plain that guy is adverse to trying new things out of fear of failure and resulting emotional harm/outside judgement, something that comes up repeatedly with the green eggs and ham, but also specifically when discussing romance with sam in Fox. the way he talks about love getting your hopes up and blowing up in your face really seems to carry personal connotations. maybe i’m reading too much into it but it could be interpreted as a failed romance or other similar love-related endeavour in his past being what triggered the pattern of his inventions blowing up?

or maybe it was simply a very ambitious invention that went wrong once, and that one time planted a seed of doubt in him that oozed out into his work, resulting in a cycle of self-fulfilling prophecy that destroyed his hopes and dreams, and that traumatic ordeal just seeped into every other element of his life?

he was afraid his family, who he loved and who loved him, pitied him and were ashamed of his failure. this might be why he went on that spiel about romance in Fox, but that feels like a less solid interpretation to me, because it was such a specific moment to ramble about failure in.

so maybe we can take the concept of a failed romance in conjunction with the aforementioned Single Failed Invention that resulted in a domino effect? maybe guy lost his confidence due to a failed romance and the mental toll of it - the loss of confidence, maybe motivation, or maybe other stuff - impacted a project he had been working on during the ordeal. the resulting failure of the invention confirmed those bad feelings and spiralled until he couldn’t keep his chin up anymore, more inventions failed, and a greater yet greater impact was made on his personal life, a loss of any relationships and other good things he had feeding into a larger self-fulfilling prophecy. until eventually, in episode 1, he gave up on his life

i dunno... this post is a massive ramble that i’ve already gone on like twice in google docs, but every time i think about this i wanna write about it

#txt #hcs #my thoughts #geah #guy am i #guy-am-i #text heavy #sorry followers if this is simply too long #im on mobile