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starstruckmiraclekitty · 1 year

Note

I've had a bit of brainrot today and have to share so I can get it out of my head (maybe) so feel free to ignore lol I've been thinking of 141 having a civilian spouse (separately, just in case there was confusion) that only ever refers to them by their call sign/rank during an emergency situation. Using it just immediately sets off sirens and they see red. - 🐍

Yesss. Got a bit carried away with this one, lol. Only did 141 specifically, lmk if you'd like to see anyone else! Also tried my best to make this GN!😊

141 With Reader Who Uses Their Callsign in Emergency Situation

Warnings: mentions of guns, violence, unwanted advances/touching, stalking, swearing, injury, crying--- I promise it has a good ending😅

Simon Ghost Riley-

"Golly, aren't you a fine looking thing." You heard a voice say behind you, as you were standing at the bar getting you and Simon another drink. Simon had just gone to the bathroom, so you knew you were on your own for this.

You turned around and were met with a man double your size, a sickening smile making its way on his face.

"Oh, thank you." You mustered a small smile before turning back to the bar, praying the man would take the hint and leave you alone.

"No, I mean it. I could take that little ass of yours home right now." The man came closer, and you could just start to feel his breath on your neck, making you cringe.

"I have a boyfriend, I'm sorry." You tried softly. You were desperate at this point, your eyes searching for Simon.

"I don't see him anywhere." The man smiled, his teeth were yellow, and his breath reeked of cheap booze.

"He just went to the restroom." You mumbled.

You felt a hand grope your ass slightly, squeezing at the flesh there. "Mmhmm, if I were your boyfriend, I'd never leave you unattended like this."

You cried out, moving to swat the guys hand away, to no avail. Nobody around you seemed to notice your predicament, and you were starting to grow scared.

The man pushed you up against the counter, his hand now gripping your waist. "Be a good little pet and come with me, okay?"

You struggled against his hold and screamed out, "Ghost!"

Simon, who had just exited the restroom, heard the wail and immediately started to run to you. What he saw had him seeing red.

He forced himself between you and the man and grabbed his hand roughly. "Who the fuck do you think you are touching them."

The man looked as if he was about to piss himself, as Simon was nearly a half foot taller and twice as bulky. "Sorry, man, they acted like they wanted it."

Simon seethed and twisted the man's wrist with such force that you swore you heard bones cracking. "Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here. Before I decide to do something that'll end with me in jail."

The man let out a small whimper, grabbed his now bruised hand and ran for the door.

Simon watched as he fled, then turned his attention to you, his eyes softening. "Y/N? Sweetheart, are you okay?"

Your eyes filled with tears as you threw yourself into Simon's chest. "Thank you, Si."

"You don't have to thank me. That's what I'm here for, yeah? Why won't we go home, I'll draw you a bath." He pulled away and cupped your cheeks, carefully pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

You nodded your head slowly and let Simon lead you out of the bar, not expecting him to crouch down on the ground once you made it outside. "Si?"

"Cmon, get on my back. Long way to the car." He gestured to his back and helped you on it, holding your legs tightly as he walked you to his car. He'd be damned if he ever let anything like that happen again to his person.

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

You were walking around your local department store one afternoon with Kyle, looking to find him some new dress shirts. The two of you had a friends wedding to attend that weekend, and Kyle didn't have many outfits to pick from.

"What about this one?" You picked out a light blue stripped dress shirt, holding it up for Kyle to see.

"I'll look like a grandpa with that one, babe." He joked, waiving away the shirt.

"You'd be a hot grandpa." You countered, putting the shirt back.

"Oh hush. I gotta run to the restroom, I'll be right back." He chuckled as he gave your arm a squeeze. You watched him walk away with a small smile before returning to the racks in front of you.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a gentleman who'd been following you and Kyle around the store for some time now, and now that Kyle was gone, it was the perfect opportunity to strike.

You were just rounding the next row of racks when the man came up behind you and started to pull on your purse. You cried out, trying to pull back, but the man was too strong. He yanked with one mighty tug, ripping the purse from your arm, and shoved you backward, sending you toppling into the racks behind you.

"GAZ!" You screamed, as the man stared at you, frozen, before turning the other way and running.

Kyle was walking toward you when he heard you scream, and his blood ran cold. He immediately sprinted in your direction, running right into the man with your purse. The man fell backward, and Kyle looked down to see him clutching your purse.

He put his foot on the man's stomach and pushed down hard. "Give me the fucking purse, asshole."

The man refused and tightened his grip on your bag. Kyle saw red and promptly punched the man square in the jaw, knocking him out cold. He grabbed your purse as a few workers finally came to check on the commotion.

Kyle looked to see you clutching your head in pain. He ran over to you, sliding to a crouch position once he got to you. "Baby! Are you okay?"

Your bottom lip trembled as a strangled cry escaped your throat, and Kyle grabbed you, pulling you to his chest. He had to talk himself down from going and giving the man another few punches.

He tucked his arm underneath your legs and lifted you up bridal style. "I'm so sorry, babe. I've got you. Let's go home. Yeah?"

Kyle spent the rest of the night watching over you and icing the bruise that formed on your head. He made a silent vow that day, that he'd beat the ever loving shit out of anyone who dared touch his baby again.

John Price-

BANG!

You looked up from your computer in your home office at the sound of the loud noise. It was late at night, and John was asleep, so you were concerned as to what caused the sound. You grabbed the pocket knife out of your drawer and made your way quietly to investigate.

Peeking your head around the doorway, you saw a large man making his way through your shared home with your husband. It appeared he'd somehow broken in through the front door.

You let out a small whimper, the confidence you had before now fading. John was fast asleep upstairs, and you had no way to get to him without revealing yourself.

You watched silently as the man started to rummage in your drawers, trying to find anything valuable he could take.

He started to draw closer to where you were, and as you slowly crept backward, the floorboards creaked underneath you.

The man was immediately notified of your presence and caught a glimpse of you as you tried to hide around the corner.

"Hey! You!" He shouted, immediately running toward you.

You sprinted in the other direction, narrowly missing his outstretched hand. You ran into the bathroom in the hallway and tried to close the door before a hand came out to stop it.

"Nowhere to run now." He said, a terrifying smile lining his face.

"PRICE!" You screeched, your heart beating rapidly.

John's eyes flew open at the sound of your terrified cry. With adrenaline coarsing through his veins, he flung himself out of bed and grabbed his handgun from his bedside table. He slowly crept down the stairs and took in his surroundings.

He saw you right away, crouched in terror before a man, who had you at gunpoint. John swiftly made his way behind the man before hitting him hard on the back of his head with the butt of his gun.

The man fell limply to the floor, and you let out a strangled sob. "John."

"Hey love, it's alright. I'm here." He approached you slowly, his hands raised up to show you he meant no harm. You held your arms out to him, and he pulled you into him, holding you tight. "I've got you. Nobody's going to hurt you."

He pulled away for just a moment to call the cops but held a grip firm on your waist, letting you know he wasn't ever going to let anything happen to you.

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

"Alright, babe, I'll run and grab the stuff at the bottom half of the list. You grab top?" Johnny asked, eyeing your fairly large grocery list.

"Sounds good, thanks, love." You smiled at him and tore the list in half, sending him on his way after a quick peck.

You watched as he strolled away, basket in hand, and made for the toiletry section of the store.

You were comparing toothpastes when you felt two men staring at you. You subtly turned your head in their direction, and they quickly looked anywhere but your direction.

You felt a slight sinking feeling in your belly and quickly threw one of the toothpastes in your cart. You made for the next aisle, looking around deoderant for you and Johnny, when the same two men appeared again, walking slowly down the aisle toward you.

Trying to brush off the occurrence as a coincidence, you threw what you needed in the cart and started to make your way to the shampoo aisle. Your resolve quickly crumbled when you now realized the men were following you.

The store was rather empty, so there was nobody close by for you to turn to. You sped your cart up and headed in the direction you thought Johnny might be. The men were hot on your tail, making it clear they were trying to get to you.

You felt one of their hands touch your back, and you let out a cry. "SOAP!"

Johnny was just finishing up his portion of the list when he heard your scream. His heart was beating rapidly as he dropped the basket and ran to you.

"Y/N?" He called out and was met with a horrifying sight. You were cornered in one of the aisles by two men and were crying, your hands up in a defensive motion as you crouched on the floor.

Johnny immediately approached. "Leave my partner the fuck alone."

The two men whipped their heads in his direction, rubbing their hands together. It was clear they were looking for a fight. Johnny lifted his shirt slightly, revealing his sidearm strapped to his waist. "Try it, I fucking dare you. You won't like the outcome."

The men clearly knew better than to create such a scene in a store and decided to flee.

Johnny watched as they ran and crouched down to your level. "Baby. Are you okay?"

You choked out a sob and wrapped your arms around your husband. "I was so scared, Johnny."

Johnny gritted his teeth in anger, he hated that anyone made you feel this way. It took everything in him not to go chasing after those bastards.

"I know, baby. I'm here now, though. Why don't we quickly finish up this trip and grab some takeout, yeah? I'm not really feeling up to cooking anymore." He pulled your face away gently and stroked your tears away. "I've got you, always, okay?"

You nod slowly and let him help you up. He grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, not letting go until you both reached the car.

#simon ghost riley x reader #soap imagine #soap x reader #simon ghost riley #cod imagine #simon riley imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #john price #captain price #price x reader #price imagine #gaz imagine #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #ghost imagine #ghost cod

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surielstea · 15 days

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Schools Out!

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel and reader are in charge of picking Nyx up from school, but Az doesn’t like the way the teacher looks at his mate.

Warnings: innuendo of having kids

1.5k words

The final bell rang and children flooded from the brightly painted doors with wide grins on their faces as they lugged on their backpacks.

I stood beside a looming Azriel with a bright smile on my face as I waited for Nyx to exit the classroom. Feyre and Rhys had an emergency shipment at the art studio they needed to tend to and I was quick to jump at the opportunity to pick the young boy up from class.

Azriel— who has slowly become my personal shadow, goes wherever I go, so I wasn't surprised when he grabbed my wrist and led me to the front door without so much as a word.

A head of blue-black hair comes bounding out of the classroom. His sky-blue backpack hangs halfway off his shoulders as he talks to his teacher, looking up at the male as he clung to his hand.

Kids quickly found their parents but Nyx seemed too intrigued with his teacher to notice Azriel or I waiting.

People stared, perhaps it was Azriel's shadows swishing around us protectively or his large black wings, not many knew of the Illyrians and only about their reputations, I didn't blame them for staring, I wouldn't want the Illyrians near my kid's school either— but none of their eyes were on him, but rather on me.

Azriel's scarred hand snaked around my waist protectively and I smiled at the sentiment, my hand coming to his in an act to soothe him.

Nyx's eyes snag on us and his expression brightens. "Auntie! Uncle Az!" He rushes towards us, practically flying into my arms with a flap of his growing wings. "What are you doing here?" The boy asks excitedly. "Your parents are busy so we're here to pick you up," Azriel says, while I adjust him in my arms. "And, we might stop at the ice cream shop on our way home," I add, eyes flicking to Azriel with a mischievous grin, pinching my bottom lip between my teeth as Nyx's pupils practically morph into hearts.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," An unfamiliar voice sounds and my head whips up to see a tall male with a polite smile and finger-paint stains on his grey button-up. "Mr. Lockwood!" Nyx exclaims as if he hadn't just been with the teacher. "Hi Nyx," The male smiles at the boy, then looks back to me. "Nyx talks highly of you," A smirk curves his lips as his eyes linger all over me. Azriel's arm tightens protectively around me. "The both of you." The blonde corrects and I scoff a laugh, waving him off. "He does the same for you." I smile at him, setting Nyx down on his feet, his hand going into mine. "Always going on about Mr. Lockwood, you seem to make his day." I muse and Azriel's hand leaves my waist in order to pick a wanting Nyx up. "Please, call me Ezra." He presses a hand to his chest humbly and my brows raise a fraction.

I can practically feel Azriel tense beside me at the rushed familiarity. I bring my hand up to his bicep reassuringly as I continue my conversation with Nyx's favorite teacher.

"Right, Ezra," I smile politely at him, dragging my hand down Azriel's arm until reaching his hand where I intertwine our fingers. The teacher looks at our hands, at Azriel's scars I realize, watching as he swallows a lump in his throat. I bristle at the act, wondering what's so wrong with my mate's hands.

"Oh—" He catches the glare I'm subconsciously giving him and pulls a clipboard that was tucked beneath his arm.

"I just need you to sign here before you leave since you're not one of Nyx's biological parents." He holds the paper towards me. I skim through the fine details, the form essentially saying that Nyx's parents had consented to Az and me taking their child home.

I spotted the blank section at the bottom that I had to sign. "I'm sorry, I don't have a pen." I pad my pockets but find them empty.

Mr. Lockwood reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a red pen, but before I can take it, shadows appear before me, holding a blue pen. I looked to Mr. Lockwood who was staring down at the shadows anxiously, like the dark tendrils might eat him alive— and if my hand wasn't in Azriel's the spymaster might've let them.

I choose to take the blue pen, pulling it from the dark tendrils with a grateful smile and they happily whisk away, down towards the ground where they pooled at my heels. Mr. Lockwood puts his pen back in his breast pocket with a slight drag in his movements, as if in defeat. I sign the space with a big looping signature then hand the pen back to my mate. "Thanks, Az," I hum, he simply nods and takes it from my hold. I turned back to the teacher who was staring at the both of us like he was beyond confused as to why we were together.

It was no secret Azriel and I were pure opposites. One could tell just by looking at my pink gowns and white skirts compared to his black leathers— but it went deeper than just our clothes. I was typically the center of attention when it came to social events while Azriel preferred to observe me. I was always talking his ear off while he just nodded and chimed in every now and again. So when we met strangers it was always a shock to them when they found out we were mates.

"All done here?" I tilt my head, knocking the blonde from his stupor. "Uh— yes." He tucks the clipboard back under his arm. "Perfect," I take Nyx's backpack and sling it over my shoulder. "We'll be seeing you." I smile while Azriel pulls me away. "Bye, Mr. Lockwood!" Nyx waves with a bright smile from over Azriel's shoulder.

——

The walk to the Ice Cream parlor was brief, since Nyx's school was located in the Rainbow everything was only a short distance away, still, the entire way there Nyx raved on about his teacher. Much to Azriel's dismay.

"—And Mr. Lockwood gives us a cool sticker every time we get something right!" Nyx exclaims, skipping slightly as he tugs on my hand. "Would you rather have a sticker or ice cream?" Azriel says and I toss the jealous male a knowing glare. "Oh ice cream for sure," Nyx licks his lips excitedly. "That's what I thought." Azriel mumbles and I playfully smack his shoulder with my freehand.

"Can I please get a chocolate cone, Auntie?" Nyx asks, ignoring his snarky uncle. A smile pulls at my lips. "I don't see why not?" I hum and a grin showing all his teeth blessed his expression. "Maybe I'll get one too." I wink at the boy as we reach the shop, Azriel opening the door for the both of us. The worker behind the counter smiles at us in a greeting and I return it.

"What flavor are you gonna get?" I ask the kindergartner. "I can't see," He says, standing on his tiptoes and attempting to peer over the edge of the glass. Without a word, Azriel swoops him up and props the boy on his hip.

"Ooh, that one," Nyx exclaims, pointing to a brightly colored tub. "I remember I had that kind with Uncle Cass before and it was so good," Nyx licked his lips as if he could still taste it. I shake my head with a growing grin and approach the counter, the silver-haired fae smiling softly at the three of us.

I order for all of us, making sure to get a chocolate cone for Nyx, per his request. The woman repeats my order back and I nod. "Your total is nine gold marks," She hums, but before I can shuffle through my coin purse Azriel puts down the money due and I look up at him. I slip my hand into his in gratitude as the cashier scoops the ice cream into the cones.

When she hands Nyx the chocolate cone he nearly runs laps around the shop, but in fear of his cold treat melting he instead licks up the side, the scoop seeming as big as his head. "You three are such a lovely family," The female smiles as she hands me my cone. "Oh, he's not—" I begin. "Thank you." Azriel interrupts before tugging my hand towards the door. "Have a nice day!" I wave to the worker. "You too!" She mirrors my expression. "Bye!" Nyx waves carefully, cautious of his ice cream toppling over. She waves back before the door to the parlor opens and we exit, the bell chiming behind us as Azriel guides me down the sidewalk, Nyx still in his arms.

I wrapped my arms around his free one, suddenly overwhelmed by some type of baby-fever. Watching the feared shadow singer be so innocent with Nyx made me want a child of our own. How I'd kill for a kid that looks just like him, hoping our child has his eyes— or better yet, his smile. I push the thoughts away as a pink tinge comes to my cheeks, I lean against his bicep as we walk side by side, enjoying our ice cream on the hot day.

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mochirimochi · 6 months

Text

Somewhere Safe

William Afton X Reader

I wanna smash the pervy dilf in the rabbit suit ok?

-This is now officially part 1 in a series!-

p1 ● p2 ● p3 ● p4

-----

You just need somewhere safe to hide from your abusive ex. Unfortunately for you, you're about to stumble into the arms of something much, much worse.

18+ Minors DNI.

~3700 words, no use of y/n

-----

cws: abusive relationships, degradation kink, breath play if you squint, smut, rough sex, EXTREMELY dubious concent, a sprinkle of spanking

You can also read on ao3 if you prefer: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51567985

-----

Your arms shake as you push up the rusted steel door that separates the pizzeria from the outside world. Every clatter and rumble of the metal makes you flinch and sweep your eyes over the abandoned side lot. There shouldn’t be anyone out and about to catch you at this time of night, right? Regardless, your heart pounds as you force the heavy door up, inch by agonizing inch. As soon as you’ve made enough space for your body you toss your bag under and swiftly crouch to follow it.

Breaking and entering is far from your typical Monday night activity, but circumstances have left you with little choice in the matter. You need somewhere you won’t be found, somewhere no one will think to look for you. A dilapidated former birthday attraction certainly fits the bill, you don’t think you’ve ever mentioned the place to your ex before and if you have he probably won’t remember anyways.

You give the door a tug to close it behind you, flinching as it slams back down into the concrete, and pick your way through the broken glass of the entryway. The smell of mildew is heavy in the air, clawing at your lungs and making your eyes water. This place used to be so vibrant and full of joy once upon a time. You’ve attended many a birthday in the restaurant that stretches out in front of you, even had a few of your own. This place had always been a favorite of the local parents due to its… generous wine portions and the ability to outsource their children's supervision. As a result it had been a kids paradise, the ability to run wild while mom and dad got lost in the sauce on a Saturday afternoon? Few things could rival that sense of freedom for a kid. Ironic as it was considering what had come later, it had always been a place where you felt safe and happy. Maybe that was why you’d chosen the pizzeria when you needed to hide from your abusive boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend now you suppose. It wasn’t like you had any plans to go back to the man after tonight.

You give yourself a shake, attempting to bring yourself back to the moment at hand. This isn’t exactly the time to be spacing out after all, you’re technically committing a crime. Actually, there isn’t anything “technical” about it, you’re definitely breaking multiple laws right now. You shoulder your backpack and cast a glance toward the stage, it’s concealed behind a dusty red curtain but you can practically picture the animatronics behind it ready to jolt into song and dance just like they did years ago. You wonder if the owner removed them when he shut the place down. If you pull back the curtain will you find the shabby remains of your childhood heroes? You shiver, maybe it’s best not to find out.

If you remember correctly, the staff always entered and exited through a door next to the prize counter, maybe you’ll find a staff room with a couch through there. It seems like as promising an idea as any so you flick on your flashlight and make your way past the dining area and through the arcade. Sure enough, you’re greeted with a “staff only” sign and an unlocked door to boot.

The hallway beyond is dark, lacking any of the color of the show floor. Interestingly, flickering yellow bulbs hang from the ceiling sporadically. The emergency power must still be on in this part of the building, you reason as you cautiously move through the hallway. You round a corner and let out a yelp as you collide with something huge, brown, and strangely soft. The impact knocks you off balance and you land rather gracelessly on your ass. It takes a moment for your brain to comprehend what you’re looking at as your gaze travels upwards over pudgy brown legs and a round plush stomach.

“Fredbear?!” The exclamation comes out before you really have a chance to think. “How in the world did you get all the way over here?” Your heart, which has been about ready to leap out of your chest, slows as you take in the animatronic. It’s in surprisingly good shape considering the state of the rest of this place. You push yourself to your feet and take a few steps back. “I can’t believe they actually left you guys here, you’d think they’d have moved you. Poor guy, all this time stuck in this dingy old hallway.”

It’s strange when you really think about it, who would leave him just standing in the bowels of the restaurant? It seems like an awfully strange place to just leave your star animatronic, rushed closure or not. After a moment, a distant memory of the animatronics being wired to wander through the pizzeria comes back to you, in fact now that you think about it you can remember getting a big warm hug or two from the Freddy animatronic. That would explain it, maybe his circuits got damaged over time and had triggered that unique function.

“Sorry to bug you big guy, I promise I’m not here to cause trouble. I just… needed somewhere safe.” Not for the first time that night you feel tears well in your eyes. “Nope, I am not going to cry over this. Not happening, you didn’t see me cry as a kid and you’re not gonna see it now.” You blink the tears away and the absurdity of your situation finally hits you. Not only are you hiding from your psycho ex and breaking the law for the first time in your life, but you’re also talking to a decrepit old robot like it can actually understand you. You heave a shaking sigh to ground yourself and pull your shoulders back. This might be your lowest moment but you refuse to let yourself wallow in it. With a determined huff you give Fredbear an affectionate pat on the arm before moving further into the building.

Before long you stumble across the staffroom, a long cluttered room with an extended plexi-glass window looking out into the hallway. Maybe at another time the window would serve to make the room feel brighter and bigger but now the dust covered plastic is shot through with a spider's web of cracks that barely allow you to see into the room. The door is unlocked though, and after a few quick shoves the warped wood releases its hold on the frame to allow you entry. Luckily, the room seems fairly well preserved and you spot a few dusty but intact couches pushed up against the wall. Jackpot. The exhaustion you’ve barely been keeping at bay all night hits you like a freight train and you lurch across the room to the couches. You collapse onto the nearest one, sending a fine cloud of dust into the air. You can’t bring yourself to care as you curled into a tight ball, finally letting sleep take you.

–

William watches the security cameras with curiosity as you wind your way through the building. Normally the animatronics would have taken care of any intruders well before they got to this point. This is new, novel even. He leans forward at his desk, squinting at the video feed in an attempt to get a better view. His jaw almost drops when you collapse onto the couch and fall still. Even through the grainy monitor he can tell that you’ve fallen asleep. What in the world is your deal? Who in their right mind would break into an abandoned establishment of dubious repute only to take a nap? He clasps his hands in thought as he watches the slow rise and fall of your chest. This calls for a more… hands on investigation.

–

A tickling in your nose rouses you from your slumber and you begin to sneeze yourself awake with surprising force. You check your watch, barely 4 in the morning. You’ve only slept for an hour at most and exhaustion threatens to pull you back into sleep. It might too, if not for the insistent vibration of your phone in your pocket. You flip the cursed thing open without hitting the button to answer, bracing yourself for what you know you’ll see.

Unsurprisingly, you’ve got 53 unread texts, 20 missed calls and 16 voicemails. You don’t need to check the contact info to know who they’re from. Against your better judgment you navigate to your sms messages and begin to read through the backlog when your phone finally stops buzzing. Some of the texts are pleading, others threatening. A few texts claim to “love you so much” and be “so fucking sorry”, while others rail at you “you fucking bitch” and “how dare you fucking run off like that?”. The messages paint a grim but unsurprising picture, a picture that’s unfortunately all too familiar. You raise your hand to the tender bruising that you know must be beginning to come to the surface on your neck before you navigate to your most recent voicemail. You flick on the speaker before staring into the green light of the screen.

“Where the fuck are you, you fucking bitch?” You flinch as an angry voice fills the room. “You think you can fucking run away from me? You think you can fucking end shit? You’ve got another thing coming to you, used up fucking slut. The next time I lay eyes on you you’re fucking dead, you hear me? Run the fuck away from me again and see what happens. I’ll-” You don’t give the voicemail a chance to run its course. With a raw, frustrated scream you launch the phone across the room. It hits the wall with a satisfying clatter. The battery and casing skitter across the floor and the voicemail cuts out abruptly. Not satisfied with just cutting the bastard off you stomp across the room, still screaming, and smash your foot into the body of the phone. It gives with a satisfying crunch and you roar as you kick it for good measure, sending the now useless device across the room once again. All the fear and rage of the last few hours overcomes you and you let yourself scream until you run out of breath.

Suddenly a flash of something yellow through the hallway window catches your eye. You push your hair out of your face as you try to catch your breath, attempting to squint through the aged plexi-glass. A hulking, inhuman figure stands on the other side of the window, seeming to peer back at you. For a moment neither of you move, it seems to be taking you in as much as you’re taking it in. The strange standoff breaks when the figure, still indistinct through the dust and cracks in the glass, starts to move slowly and methodically towards the staffroom door.

Finally your brain springs into action. Shit. Whatever that is, it’s not good. You sweep your eyes frantically around the room, weighing your options. Any windows to the outside are boarded up, and the only door in or out is the one the massive yellow figure is making its way towards. The only viable option seems to be to take the defensive. There’s a tiny kitchenette against the wall, and you rush towards it in desperation. Frantically, you yank open the drawers in search of anything you might use to protect yourself. The best you can come up with is a wooden spoon. In another situation that might be laughable, but you can’t take a moment to consider how absurd you look brandishing a wooden spoon like a sword. The rattle of the doorknob tells you that you’re out of time.

Whatever you had expected to be on the other side of that door it certainly wasn’t a massive yellow rabbit suit. It’s huge, so large that it has to duck to get its ears under the door frame. As it tilts its head to take you in, your blood runs cold. You hold your ground as the thing stalks closer, its movements slow and deliberate as it moves towards you.

In a moment of desperation you launch yourself forward, attempting to dodge around the looming figure and make a dash for freedom. You don’t have a chance. A pair of strong arms wrap roughly around your waist, jerking you back with enough force to knock the air from your lungs. Your makeshift weapon clatters to the floor. A dark chuckle rumbles from the depths of the suit as a hand drags its way from your waist and up your chest to grab your chin.

“What. Have. We. Here?” The voice that comes from the suit is deep, taunting, and undoubtedly mascuine. He punctuates the last word with a rough but controlled yank, pulling your chin up and your head back into his chest. You whimper as it strains your already aching neck. With your head tipped back you can see the yellow rabbit head looming above you and it tilts to the side again as if in curiosity. “I asked you a question.”

“I-I-...” You can barely get your mouth to move and you lick your lips in a desperate attempt to draw words from them. Your obvious fear draws a satisfied hum from the depths of the suit and the hand on your waist tightens noticeably. The hand on your jaw however, disappears. You pull in a shaky gasp and buck your head forward in an attempt to build up enough momentum to break free. The vice-like grip on your waist is unaffected and your captor grunts in amusement.

A rustling above your head draws your attention and you look up to realize that the hand that had just been holding your jaw captive is running along the neck of the suit. With a single, deft movement the head of the suit comes off and your captors face is revealed. There’s an almost rugged handsomeness to his mature features, graying stubble covering his cheeks and eyes that in another life may have looked almost kind. The expression he’s peering down at you with now is anything but kind or gentle though. There’s a hunger there, and a barely suppressed rage. He places the head on a nearby table and returns his hand to your jaw. With agonizing languidness he leans forward and presses his lips to your ear.

“Who gave you permission to sleep in my restaurant?”

You gasp as his stubble rasps against your jaw and his hot breath ghosts across your face.

“I’m sorry. I just needed a place to stay. I’ll leave right now. I’ll-”

He cuts you off. “A place to stay, huh?” His lips are still brushing against your ear and despite yourself you feel a chill run down your spine that has nothing to do with fear. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with that absolute delight of a man on the other side of the phone, would it?”

“He’ll kill me.” As soon as the words come out of your mouth you know they’re true. Honestly, you’re lucky to have survived him this long.

“Oh, little mouse, what makes you think I won’t?” The grip on your jaw releases for a moment and you hear something fall to the floor. When it returns it’s a very warm, very human hand that takes its place. His other hand briefly lets go to do the same and you can feel his nails digging into your flesh as he presses you against him.

“Please.” It’s barely more than a whimper as the hand at your jaw dips to circle your neck. “I just needed somewhere safe.”

“And you chose here? Bad luck.” He presses his nose to your jaw and draws in a deep, ragged breath. “But you know, we might be able to work something out.” The hand at your waist begins to travel, burrowing its way under the hem of your shirt before splaying wide across your stomach. His long fingers barely brush the underside of your bra but you feel the heat of them as if there’s no fabric to separate you. “I’d hate to see a pretty thing like you put out in the cold.”

“Anything.”

–

William can barely contain himself. The feeling of your trembling body in his arms is oh so delicious and your intoxicating scent floods his nose, every breath sending a thrill through him. You’re so soft, so malleable, so utterly breakable. It’s brilliant.

Using one hand to keep you pinned against him he uses the other to work his way out of the suit with practiced skill. Initially he’d just wanted to watch you, figure out the enigma that was your survival after breaking into his restaurant. Normally people don’t last for more than a few minutes. But you’d dithered around, chatted up his ace in the hole, and then taken a nap? He couldn’t contain his curiosity.

The phone call had derailed his plan and given him an idea. Sure, he had planned on killing you once he’d solved your mystery but maybe there were other things you could be useful for. There was something captivating about you, and the perfect leverage had just fallen straight into his lap.

He makes quick work of the suit, and soon he’s reveling in the feeling of your body against his.

“Anything?” He asks, stroking his thumb gently over your jugular before giving your throat a controlled squeeze. Your startled gasp is almost enough to send him reeling. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, little mouse.”

–

This is wrong. Everything about this situation is wrong.

And yet, your body seems to have some of its wires crossed because it is not getting the message. The only thing you should be feeling right now is fear, and sure, there’s a very healthy dose of that tying your guts in knots but beyond that there’s an underlying current of heat. None of what’s happening should be causing your core to tighten, and the goose bumps forming on your neck should be from terror.

But they’re not.

His hand drifts up even further, pushing your bra up and out of the way to capture the smooth skin of your breast in his hand. You can’t help it, you roll your hips back into his, pushing against the hardness that’s growing there at an almost alarming pace. He growls behind you, pulling you even closer to grind against your ass.

“So that’s how it is?” His voice in your ear is even deeper now, heavy with lust as he gives your breast a hard squeeze. Even you’re surprised when you let out a wanton moan. “Imagine such a dirty fucking slut falling right into my lap.” His words have you clenching around nothing and you don’t even have the presence of mind to feel conflicted about your body's reaction. He releases your breast and his hand burns a trail down to the top of your jeans, he flicks the button open with ease and slowly undoes your zipper. Then he stops, his hand ghosts over the crotch of your jeans before it stills. You let out a needy whimper that you barely recognize as your voice.

“Beg for it, little mouse.”

You groan, canting your hips forward in a desperate search for pressure. “Please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please, fuck me.”

His control seems to snap and he spins you around before shoving you across the room and face down into the couch, barely giving you time to yelp in surprise. He pulls your hips into the air before yanking down your jeans and panties in one harsh motion. The animalistic groan that escapes him at the sight of your dripping pussy sends a shock of arousal through you. He grabs a globe of your ass in each hand, digging his fingers in so hard that you gasp. His nails bite in deep enough that you’re sure they’ll draw blood.

“God, look at you.” He grunts, releasing your ass and stepping back as if to admire the view. You hear the clinking of his belt buckle and wiggle in anticipation. “What a fucking freak you are, so fucking wet and ready for a strange man in an abandoned building.” He lifts his hand and lands a stinging blow on your ass. You flinch and yelp at the unexpected pain and he does it again on the other cheek. “Dirty slut.” The sting brings tears to your eyes, but it also causes your arousal to coil even tighter in your abdomen.

Suddenly and without warning he grabs your hips and slams into you, burying himself to the hilt in one fluid motion. You scream as he stretches you, your channel burning around his thick cock. “Take it.” He grunts, slamming into you. All you can do is whimper in response as he sets a punishing pace, thrusting into you again and again. The burn eventually melts into a building and rising heat that threatens to sweep you away.

Your scalp stings as he tangles his fist in your hair and yanks your head back, changing the angle so that he drives impossibly deeper into you with every stroke. Any train of thought you may have been able to carry is lost as he bombards you with pleasure. Your eyes roll back as your hands desperately grip the couch cushions. A few more thrusts and you’re coming undone, screaming out your release. He follows close behind you, letting go of your hair to grab your hips again. His fingers bite into you as he pulls you back against him, trapping you to him as he fills you.

“Fuck.” He grunts, his voice raw and his hands trembling at your hips. You both still for a moment and your brain finally starts to realize what you’ve just done. But in the throbbing, warm throes of your afterglow you can’t seem to bring yourself to care how truly fucked up this situation is. When he finally releases his vice-like grip on your hips you groan at the loss of contact.

The chuckle that he gives is warmer than any of the others so far, and he gives your ass a final squeeze that you could almost consider affectionate before he steps away.

“Yes, I think we’ve come to a satisfying agreement.”

-----

I don't know what came over me last night, but this was the result. I've never written smut before, but I sure have read a lot so hopefully it's enjoyable.

#william afton is a pervy old man and that's how i like him #look im not here for the serial killer to be nice to me #william afton x reader #william afton x you #william afton smut #fnaf smut #fnaf #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #springtrap #william afton #matthew lillard #fanfic #fnaf fanfic #mochi writes

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qsphyxias · 2 months

Text

Nightwing x Male! Thief! Reader

if you fetishize mlm/nblm relationships, get the fuck out of here!

synopsis ; nightwing and ur dynamic, as a small, not super skilled, thief that nightwing likes

warnings ; male! reader, cussing, mention of oral sex (no actual sex at all), banter,

note ; wish i wrote smth abt nightwing's GYATTT

words ; 1.3k+

Your teeth chattered in your jaw as you continued to shovel stacks of cash from the busted vault into your gym bag. Your eyebrows furrowed in frustration as you could feel your fingers going numb from the adrenaline rushing through your hands — Faster, damn it, faster!

The emergency lights flashed a red hue on everything you saw, and you couldn't hear anything but a pulsing in your head, and quiet and light steps behind you. Knowing who it was, you only sighed and remained tense, refusing to look your assailant in the eye.

"Really, s/o?" You winced at his disappointed tone of voice, already pissed at his audacity to talk as if — "As if you have the right to judge me, Boy Wonder." You spat out, frowning as you swivelled around to see Dick Grayson, a mere inch away from you. Your gym bag rotated around you on impact and caught itself on your shoulder. The impact and the shock alone were enough to make you take a step back — but not before Dick had slipped one of his batons behind the groove of your back, pulling you towards his chest by pulling on both ends of the baton.

"It's Nightwing now, actually." He corrected, seemingly unfazed by your resentful attitude. Your dynamic usually went this way; a small fight amongst rivals and old friends, with a mutual understanding that the other is off-limits. Looking down at your irritated face, Dick only grinned wittingly and nodded towards your bag full of cash over your shoulder, "I assume... money's tight?"

You could only laugh, feigning shock, "Oh, right, I forgot you don't know what it's like to be poor because your daddy's filthy rich." With a quick shove away from his suit-bound chest, you backed away from him and started immediately looking for exits.

Dick noticed and shook his head. "Hey man, he may be a billionaire, but he doesn't give me a single penny!" Dick stepped closer to you as you stepped back, cornering you. "Can you believe that?" He muttered, his perfect hair looking like a bright shade of red from your close-up point of view underneath the hue of the emergency lights.

You looked up at him, then looked down as you considered punching him in the stomach to get away. The vigilante began eyeing your bag, taking the chance and reaching for it when you were distracted looking for his weak points.

Acting quickly, you rip the bag away from him, bolting for a closed window jumping out of it and into another rooftop of a building. Glass had flown everywhere, some of it cutting you, and some of it landing inside your shoes. Dick laughed in slight annoyance as he saw you take off, not wasting another second and going right after you. "You can't run forever! I know this bank personally, s/o, they're getting their money back!"

You don't waste time looking behind you and flip him the bird over your shoulder, leaping onto another building with a running start. Midair, you feel a strong arm wrap grab your waist and fling you around in an unknown direction — just until you reach solid ground on top of a 24/7 diner. Not used to being in the fucking air you found yourself holding onto the superhero's shoulder's in a vice grip until you let go, finding the whole situation mortifying.

"Breakfast?" Dick looked at the bright Neon sign that was below eye level from his spot on the rooftop, grinning at you so coyly; he was serious.

"It's 4 AM, Dick." You say his name like an insult, rather than a title.

Dick, however, was unfazed, having heard that joke over a thousand times in his lifetime. "Well, yeah it's midnight, but I'm hungry and— Oh shoot! I'm short on cash... S/o? Do you happen to have cash?" Nightwing crossed his arms and hummed in thought looking around like a sailor looking for land.

You could only roll your eyes at his behaviour, knowing he was serious about using the money you stole to buy himself a chicken-fried steak and a stack of pancakes.

A normal person who was to look at this man's behaviour would have instantly known he was joking; you, however, were no ordinary man. For you have known Grayson for longer than you wanted to have known him, and a couple of years' worth of time spent with the acrobat was enough information for you to know; he fucked around, but man, did he love finding out.

You felt your shoulders drop in a "why-not" attitude, and you let out a long sigh, shrugging and gesturing to jump down from the rooftop of the diner.

With a pursed lip smile, Dick hopped down and opened the diner's front door, beckoning you inside eagerly. After you got down, you rolled your eyes at him but laughed anyway, finding the situation unbelievable. "Did you want a blowjob for your chivalry?" You joked, peeking over your shoulder to catch Grayson checking out your ass from behind you.

"Why; is that an offer?" Grayson ran his tongue over his bottom lip, rapid-firing his side of the banter. The hostess stood before the two of you, watching the exchange occur uncomfortably. Despite your public profanities, she couldn't care less, it was 4 am.

"Table for two?"

——————————————————————————————————

The air was calm in the diner, it smelt of coffee — which made sense, because how else would you stay awake at this ungodly hour? You were lucky that there was no one else here; a swarm of men and women alike would have crowded around the superhero sitting before you, had it not been empty.

As you scanned the menu briefly, you couldn't help but get a little distracted at the sight of the man before you. Stealing glances above the menu, you leaned back in your side of the booth and shrunk, trying to look as if you aren't staring at him just for the sake of staring.

"I know I'm gob-stoppingly gorgeous, but be careful, you might even fall in love with me with that look." Dick snorted, dropping the menu down on the table to reveal his shit-eating grin.

"Oh fuck off," You murmured, looking away for a second only to meet his eyes again. "... So what's the plan, Dick?" Your embarrassment was soon replaced with your focus on the important matter at hand. "Are you planning not to turn me in today? Plan to take me out to dinner like one of your girls?" His attention was now completely on you, his eyes carefully watching you as you got comfortable in your cushioned seat, balancing your head on your hands as you leaned forward.

"What do you want?"

Dick gulped. "Well, I... I want a huge stack of your house buckwheat pancakes and a soda float, if you please." His demeanour shifted completely as he transformed from sexy-man to child-patron when he waved his hand over to the waitress to get her attention and his order in. "And— What, a milkshake? A milkshake for the gentleman please— And fries!" He looked back at you, "can't have a milkshake without fries, am I right?"

You could only stare blankly at him as he conversed with the waitress across the room, "Dick, look at me." getting fed up with his indifference, you reached forward to grab his jaw lightly by the tips of your fingers, angling his face to confront you. You could feel your heart skip a beat as his dark blue eyes focused on you once again.

Your breath hitched, and you nearly forgot what you wanted to say. "... The hell do you want with me now that we're here?" You repeated under your breath, watching as one of his hands reached up to grab your hand on his face.

"Well,"

"Maybe I just wanted to waste some of your time, sweetheart."

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politemenacephd · 4 months

Text

Arachnophilia (Part Eight)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

You're a new recruit to the spider society, and you've just been sent on your first mission on one condition: Do not contact Miguel's variant in this universe. When your mission goes wrong you break that rule very quickly, desperate for help, only to find that Miguel's variant here is not what you expected. He's stoic but kind, awkward but sincere, and he's also an enormous human-spider hybrid: a drider, both human and arachnid. You decide to continue seeing Miguel in secret, with the rest of the society unaware. You really want to stay friends after all. That is, until Miguel suddenly goes into a rut. Now you're his mate, trapped in a dizzying heat that only he can fix, trying to hide your relationship from your suspicious superiors. What could go wrong? Word count: 2050 notes: mig v miguel time. fIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

You fell asleep against Miguel’s side once more that night. The heat seemed to have been staved off for the time being, and so you slumbered into a dreamless void where your body could begin to recover.

Miguel slept with his body curled around you. His human half lay on its front on the mattress, head propped atop his folded arms, while his spider half folded to create a perfect half-moon shape around your body.

He kept you close, and he kept you warm. He breathed quietly as you muttered soft little things in your sleep.

It was around midnight that Miguel woke, stirred by a smell in the air that immediately assaulted his senses. It was rancid to him, heavy and overbearing.

It was him.

Miguel took a glance at you on the bed. You were still fast asleep, mewling softly in between snores.

He stared at you with unblinking eyes, their red glow reflecting onto your face. Had you noticed the smell?

For a good minute he continued to watch your every move. That smell persisted, filling his nose, but you didn’t seem to notice at all. You didn’t stir, didn’t moan, didn’t show any signs of the heat taking its toll.

Miguel quietly relished in his relief. You weren’t responding to the intruder’s scent.

He made sure you were still asleep before carefully rising from the bed and heading for the door. He did one more double take as he stood at the exit, ensuring you were definitely safe and still, and with that he ascended to the ground.

It was dark outside in the forest. The foliage above choked out all but the barest moonlight, creating a hazy filter of grey and white and black over everything around him.

Luckily Miguel could see in the dark, and it was easy for him to creep through the undergrowth. He wasn’t trying to be quiet, though. Twigs snapped at his feet, trees groaned as he parted them aside, and he let out soft hisses into the empty night.

He was giving a warning, trying to draw the imposter out, and it worked.

‘You fucking animal.’

Mig paused mid-step as that voice filled the air. His abdomen vibrated; it could sense the danger.

He turned 180 degrees, eyes darting in the dark, until they fell upon the cause of his unrest. A pair of bloody red eyes alone in the dark, roughly three meters away from his current location. Mig braced himself into a defensive position.

‘You- fucking animal’ the voice repeated. It sounded like they were spitting with aggression.

‘You have no jurisdiction here’ Mig replied coldly.

The red eyes narrowed. Slowly the figure began to emerge, taking deliberately steps into the thin moonlight until his face was clear. The face of Miguel stared back at him, an eerie mirror staring him down in the gloom. Mig took a step forward in tandem.

‘You have no jurisdiction over my members’ Miguel sneered.

‘Neither do you’ Mig replied. ‘They’re not property.’

‘Then give my recruit back.’

‘Mi arañita came of their own free will’ Mig insisted. ‘They have a right to be here if they wish it.’

He saw Miguel’s face contort with disgust. ‘Arañita- Ay por Dios, you have nicknames now, huh?’

Mig kept a calm expression as he puffed up his chest. He was playing coy but in truth he relished the power of saying what he said next.

‘Mi arañita is my friend. I’m allowed to speak about them however I want.’

Miguel let out a low grumble, muttering something Mig couldn’t hear. It sounded like angry Spanish. ‘Friend- friend, friend- don’t treat me like an idiot!’

Mig stayed still as Miguel stormed forward, two of his claws now raised and pointed directly at his face. ‘Did you fuck them?’ he hissed. ‘Did you fuck one of my spiders?’

Mig maintained his neutrality. He wasn’t afraid. In fact, it was the opposite; admitting this was almost thrilling, in a deeply cynical sense. He couldn’t help but enjoy his variants anger, and deep down he took a perverse pleasure in acknowledging his claim.

‘Yes. We mated, multiple times. It’s done. They’re mine, and you cannot undo what I’ve done.’

‘Oh, you just watch me.’

It was the first overt threat made between the two, and Mig was not about to take it lightly. He widened his stance to indicate he was not letting Miguel get past him any time soon.

‘May I remind you, sir, that only one of us has touched them without consent’ Mig said, his voice as low as possible.

Miguel did briefly look ashamed. It was clear he remembered grabbing you, but he pushed it down. ‘I had to check if my senses were correct’ he said defensively. ‘I had to- know, because if they were in danger—’

‘They’re in no danger’ Mig snapped. It was clear Miguel’s words had gotten to him, as the hair on his abdomen began to bristle. ‘At least, not from me.’

‘You know how this will end!’ Miguel hissed. He raised his claw and pointed it at his larger variant, his teeth involuntarily bared. He tried his best to hide it, but he just couldn’t seem to force them down. He physically bit his tongue to keep his jaw clamped.

This behaviour didn’t go unnoticed by Mig, who decided to use that to his advantage.

‘It disgusts you, doesn’t it?’ Mig noted. Miguel again snapped his teeth before violently covering his mouth.

‘It disgusts you that you’re like me. That you’re just another broken, half-way creature. An arachnid masquerading as a man.’

‘Yes! Yes, it disgusts me!’ Miguel snapped. When he took a step forward this time Mig’s abdomen began to wiggle slightly, his enormous spider legs pawing at the ground. His eyes glowered dangerously; he was giving out a warning.

‘It disgusts me that I’m- this! And what bothers me, is that it doesn’t disgust YOU!’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know what I mean! We are not, supposed, to be doing this!’ Miguel whisper shouted. ‘I thought you understood, when we talked. You said you understood. Why would you ever want to- soil someone with your genes, OUR genes?!’

‘Because this one- this one, wanted me’ Mig said. His voice had involuntarily dropped as he thought of you, still curled up and safe in his nest. His tesoro. His priceless little spider, who wasn’t afraid of him.

‘It’s different. They- like me. They aren’t afraid of me. They… they said, I could impregnate them.’ The dreamy look in his eyes only spurred Miguel on into further rage.

‘We are DANGEROUS!’ Miguel implored. His wide eyes were brimming with genuine fear, genuine horror. ‘We are not, safe! You know that!’

Those three words hung heavy in the air, echoing into a deep and troublesome silence. Mig stared ahead, wide and unblinking.

‘You know that.’

Those words were too heavy, too layered with meaning that only they knew. Meaning only an O’Hara would understand.

‘I want you to leave’ Mig said. His voice was a whispered threat, spoken in a deeply unnerving monotone. Miguel refused to oblige.

‘You, know, that’ Miguel repeated.

‘I said, I want you to leave.’

‘Is the pleasure worth it!? Knowing you’ll get someone hurt again—’

Mig suddenly darted forward and bared his teeth, splashing the ground with venom. Miguel stumbled a step back.

‘Get, off, my territory’ Mig hissed. Miguel quickly regained his ground, taking a defensive position.

‘Why are you doing this to them?’ Miguel seethed. Mig scoffed, his disdain clear in his curled lip.

‘I knew it. I always knew, you—this isn’t about me, this is about you wanting mi arañita for yourself!’

‘No, I don’t- I don’t, want them! I’m in control of my urges, unlike you!’

‘Liar.’

‘You, fucking—well at least I’m not lying to myself! Acting like your, disgusting needs aren’t why you’re holding them here.’

Mig trembled a little as his righteous anger overflowed. ‘Urges, you- I don’t pursue them because of urges, cabrón! La quiero, ella es mi tesoro—’

‘Oh, spare me!’ Miguel scoffed, cutting Mig’s passionate defence off halfway. ‘I won’t dignify this by saying it in Spanish, you- estúpido- argh! You don’t love that human, you don’t know them! You know what you are? You know what this is? YOU, you can’t even admit to yourself that you’re just blindly obeying your animal impulses, you’re pretending its love to cope, it’s- sick. It’s sick!’

‘I told you, to get off my territory.’

‘Are you counting them as territory?’ Miguel spat back.

At that point Mig’s face began to contort. The whites of his eyes turned red as his fangs began to glow a ghostly white in the dark. His venom was a dangerously vibrant green as it dripped down his jaw, glowing with luminescent poison. Every hair on his abdomen stood on end as he puffed himself up to look bigger.

He was a shadow, nothing but those red almond eyes and that great gaping maw of teeth.

‘Yes’ Mig seethed. He allowed his body to hoist upward, casting a shadow large enough that it totally eclipsed Miguel’s body. He was almost 9ft when standing on his full legs, utterly dwarfing Miguel’s otherwise impressive 6ft 8.

‘They’re mine.’

Miguel felt those words like a physical hand around his throat. They were heavy, dull, filled with subtext.

‘Mi tesoro, is my mate. My marked territory. And unlike you, I know what I am. I know what I am, and I won’t hide my impulses like you. I know how spiders handle mating disputes.’

Mig widened his claws and raised his front legs, rearing himself like a horse.

‘I will fight you if I have to. I will spill blood for them, and I will gladly spill yours too.’

Miguel curled his lip back. Maybe it was the pheromones permeating the air, or maybe it was just a private acknowledgement of who he was. Whatever it was, he finally allowed himself to hiss overtly. The two men expanded their fangs and let out a low, continuous hiss, as venom spat and pooled from their mouths.

When neither of the two backed down to the other, Miguel withdrew, angrily wiping venom from his chin and lip.

‘Fine’ Miguel sneered. ‘Fine. Fine. So be it. This fight is on you. But when I get your little spider back, I will make sure they know whose fault this is.’

‘You will not live to speak with them.’

Miguel laughed openly, a cold and humourless sound. ‘How… How? How are we the same? How could I possibly be another version of this?’

‘I agree, sir, it’s absurd’ Mig grunted. ‘I’ve made my threats clear, unlike you. Speaking in vague tongues and empty promises. How very human of you.’

Miguel’s lip curled again, his eyes filled with disdain. Mig continued to glower.

‘I will return, when I have a legal and rational cause for separation. Which I will find. Until then, well—try not to kill my spider.’

Miguel spun and stormed off into the misty darkness, leaving Mig alone on the outskirts of his nest. The moment he was alone he breathed out; he didn’t even realize he’d been holding his breath.

Once certain that Miguel’s scent had faded Mig made his way back to the nest. He clambered inside as quietly as he could, but it seemed he still managed to stir you awake.

‘Mig?’

You were clearly still half asleep, eyes half-lidded as you wriggled on the soft silk. Miguel felt his heart thud a little harder.

‘Mi arañita.’

You gave a dumb little smile as he whispered those words. You didn’t notice his dangerously red eyes, nor his bared teeth nor the smell of venom. You reached out and gently squeezed his fluffy foreleg.

‘What are you doing up? Come back to bed, it’s cold.’

Miguel obliged. He crawled onto the mattress and dragged you in close, holding you taut to his belly. You could feel his hands gently stroking your waist, lulling you to sleep, as his soft red eyes reflected off your cheek.

‘You’re safe, little spider. Go back to sleep.’

He whispered the words to you, but he knew they were an affirmation for himself. They were a prayer. They were a plea. ‘You’re- safe here.’

You let out a soft, sleepy snore as your body shifted. You were already asleep.

Miguel lowered himself until his head was resting right above your own, with his spider legs encapsulating your entire body. He squeezed you tight as a distraction from his own mind.

‘I won’t hurt you’ he whispered.

‘I won’t hurt you. You’re safe.’ Link to next part!

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #smut with plot #drider #smut #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel spiderverse

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kyufessions · 9 months

Text

downpour

synopsis: your boyfriend picks you up after your class

pairings: non-idol, boyfriend! intak x g.n. reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.4k

a/n: intak 🥹 our favorite golden retriever. also, not proof read as of yet, too tired lmao. italics are text messages from intak. (requested here.)

general taglist: @jwnghyuns @eaudenana @soobin-chois

the one time you decide to not check the weather it begins to downpour during your economics class. every day you stay on top of the weather, especially since nowadays it seems to become more and more unpredictable. but today, of course, you went with your gut. and oh how wrong it was. you didn’t even have to look outside a window to know it was raining- the aggressive patter of raindrops were telling enough against the college building.

as your professor finished up the lesson early due to the weather, you quickly searched your bag for an emergency umbrella but to no avail. sighing, and mentally cursing yourself, you pull out your phone to check when the rain would stop. luckily enough, you noticed a string of text messages from your boyfriend that you assume he sent during your class.

i hope class is going okay <3

oh shit it’s raining. did you bring an umbrella?

i’ll pick you up after class, text me when you get out!

♥️ see you soon

smiling at the messages, you quickly call him as you swing your bag over your shoulder. within a few seconds, he answers with an excited tone.

“your uber driver has arrived in parking lot B.” the smile was evident in his voice, the thought of it bringing butterflies to your stomach.

“thank you, baby.” you say before hanging up to

scurry towards the exit to get back home for the day. you felt bad that intak drove all the way back to campus after leaving only two hours ago from his own classes, but at the same time you felt extremely grateful. if it weren’t for him you’d either have to get soaked taking the bus or take a thirty five dollar uber- both options not necessarily being of interest for you.

just as you approached the glass double doors, you notice intak’s red car in the pick up and drop off center of the parking lot. smiling foolishly at the sight of your boyfriend tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, you quickly run to his car with your jacket over your head. as the door opens up, intak jumps at the sudden noise and puts his hand over his heart for dramatics.

“hey baby!” you spoke, turning your head in his direction and smiling innocently at his heightened state. a small fit of laughter leaves your lips as you bring your hand up to cup his cheek, pecking his lips quickly before putting on your seatbelt. “thanks for picking me up, you didn’t have to.”

“it’s pouring outside, i wasn’t going to let you get soaked getting home. besides,” he starts pulling off, starting down the road towards your place. “i’m your boyfriend. it’s my duty to take care of you.”

you give him a look, a smirk playing across your lips as you lay your wet jean jacket across your lap to start drying off a bit. “i can take care of myself.” you respond in a teasing tone, your eyes admiring the way he looks behind the wheel. he might’ve just gotten his license a month ago, but he definitely didn’t drive like it. you felt safe when he was behind the wheel, despite him being a new driver.

he puffs out his cheeks as hd turns a corner, being careful on the wet roads as the rain continues on. “i know, but i love taking care of my baby.” as he hits a stop sign he quickly moves his hand from the wheel to your face, squeezing your cheeks as he quickly pecks your lips over and over before a car beeps at him from behind. “i’ll take care of you as long as you allow me to.”

inside your apartment were you, intak, and a mini fort built from couch cushions and any and all blankets available. originally, he was going to come in for a late lunch and head home. but as the weather got worse and thunder started to roar in the distance, you both decided it was best if he stayed the night. so within the past few hours, you’ve both made dinner and cuddled underneath the fort with food, snacks, and in matching pajamas you kept in a separate drawer for whenever he stayed over.

a few weeks ago you both had started a new kdrama called It’s Okay Not to be Okay. it’s quite depressing, but the storyline is beautiful and definitely keeps you both interested. thanks to the growing storm outside, you’re nearly close to finishing the show and are almost done with your milkshakes and popcorn- the ramen long gone at this point.

intak’s head propped up on your thigh as you ran your fingers through his hair as your other hand held on the edge of the popcorn bowl to periodically grab some. gasps and mumbled comments could be heard from him every few minutes, along with little giggles when the main characters would get close to kissing or getting together.

“i’m glad we didn’t take this long to get together.” intak says, his tone playful as he leans his head fully back to look up at you.

“yeah, because you made it obvious from the start.” you replied, smiling down at the boy below you. the way his hair was fading into a dark golden blonde made your heart flutter more than ever before, the color suiting his skin tone perfectly and making him appear more luminous than ever before.

intak noticed the sparkle in your eye whenever you looked at him, the sight never failing to upturn the corner of his lips even just the tiniest bit. “i did not.” a pause. he starts thinking for a moment. “did i?” he looks at you with wide curious eyes- eyes he knows you love.

you nod, a smile breaking out. “i’m glad you did though, i would’ve been too scared to make the first move.”

“why?”

you think for a moment before deciding to respond. in hindsight, you didn’t have anything to be scared of when it came to intak. he was so loving, so caring, so attentive. and he knew how to make someone feel comfortable around him. but truth be told, his beauty and demeanor can come across as intimidating at first. he’s so bubbly, so smiley. and everyone loved him. not that you yourself weren’t lovable but to an extent, you felt like you had to meet his standards to surpass them in order to even be considered as his partner. but you were wrong; he proved that.

playing with his waves, you lean down and plant a kiss on his lips. whenever your lips met his, as cliche as it sounded, sparks flew as if it were the fourth of july. everything felt right. the time, the place, the way your lips synced up together- perfection. nothing ever felt awkward between you two, even from the first meeting.

heart pounding, intak kisses back without hesitation and brings his hand up to your face and begins rubbing circles into the apple of your cheek. as you pull away, he swipes away an eyelash and admires your features for the hundredth time that day. no flaw could ever be detected from you- he truly thought of you as an angel. “i love you.” he admitted, the words spilling from his lips. your eyes widened for a second, taken aback by the sudden confession. “you don’t have to love me back, but just know i love y-“

“i love you too, intak.” you respond, cheeks heating up from this moment. suddenly the thunder sounded like birds chirping, and the grey skies were a clear sky blue with no clouds in sight as the sun became brightly visible. everything felt right- everything felt perfect.

melting into his touch, you place a soft kiss to the side of his palm before responding to his previous question. “you intimidated me at first.”

shooting up from his comfortable place on your lap, you watch his movements as he shuffled onto his knees to be eye level with you. “me? why?” the disbelief and curiosity was evident in his voice, making you chuckle at his cute reaction.

you shrug, unsure of why you even thought so in the first place. “i guess because of how outgoing you are? and pretty. you’re very pretty, baby.” you sit up on your knees and wrap your arms around his neck, placing a quick kiss to his forehead before laying your head on his shoulder. “not anymore though. now i just think of you as my annoying and dorky boyfriend.”

wrapping his arms around your waist as he laughs, he starts rocking you both back and forth as the rain continues to downpour outside. maybe, just maybe, the weather should become more unpredictable more often.

#kyufessions p1harmony #p1harmony fluff #p1harmony #p1h intak #p1harmony intak #p1harmony imagines #intak fluff #intak imagines #intak #hwang intak #intak x reader

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mskenway97 · 4 months

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Hello! I have a Transformers question and an idea 👍

First: the autobots symbol. What is the origin? I mean... This is the representation of the first prime or of Primus face? I never didn't understand.

Second: idea/request. What if OP, bayverse movie, partner (romantically or friendship whatever you want) is a blind human female? She's been tortured by decepticons 😨

Thanks 🙌🙌🙌

I find the first question very curious and you have. in fact the logo was created because of this:

the designer who came up with the Autobot emblem used a stylized representation of Prowl's toy head as a source of inspiration (Prowl is the Autobot military strategist). In the world of Marvel Comics, the distinctive red mask is often referred to as the "Autobrand".

According to official legend, the Autobot symbol was created in reference to the face of the Last Autobot, the guardian Primus prepared, before the day when he could no longer restrain his own army. By the way, we cannot fail to mention that the same sign was used as the symbol of the slave brand Quintesson.

And from the second question, I have created a small scenario more related to friendship and partenership:

Darkness, infinite was the only thing, the Decepticons had tortured her in a thousand ways to discover the location of NEST, y/n was a soldier of the first humans closest to the autobots. No y/n opened his mouth to snitch, he wasn't a snitch the wounds on his body were nothing serious until they decided to take his sight…. When the autobots rescued him it was too late, it was irreparable damage. Ratchet did everything he could for y/n….. It was so complicated to do day to day things, to be guided more by touch, sound, to learn differently than reading, writing…. Her day to day life literally changed… She heard a familiar sound, maybe she only saw darkness but that confusing sound was Optimus, since the rescue he kept coming to see her. She felt a little wind in front of her, the noise of the hydraulic presses around, the house of y/n was in a more distant area to be closer to the base in case of emergency and in this case to be able to take better care of her. -Optimus? - she asked as she grabbed a guide stick to carefully exit the house, stumbling at the exit to feel that something metallic had grabbed her.

-You should be more careful," Optimus lectured her a little. And/n chuckled a little as she tried to get a little positioned - You know I always feel like it when you get here. Optimus pulled her a little closer, face to face.

Optimus every time he looked at the dull eye color that y/n had, instead of y/c of eyes that sparkled every time she smiled, that she got angry, those looks of complicity they had in meetings, only to see that when she was rescued, those eyes had lost their essence…. It made him squeeze his other servo and change only his expression of frustration and anger. "If only it had taken less time, if only I had arrived before she was in so much pain…. It's my fault…" Optimus thought but those frantic thoughts were interrupted by smaller hands passing over his face.

-Again thinking about what happened? - said y/n

-I can't help it, you didn't deserve to end up like this, Optimus said in frustration, y/n stroked his faceplate.

-What's done is done… At least I'm alive, if it weren't for you. I would continue with the experiments. You saved my life

-But you paid a high price for that," said Optimus as he pulled her closer to his chassis. Y/n leaned in as she heard the pulse of his spark - It wasn't your fault…. Even if you can't see, you see only this eternal darkness…. Your mere presence brings me light among the shadows," said Y/n leaving Optimus surprised as he pulled her closer to him. They stayed like that for a while, until Optimus decided to help her with her holoform exercises. Maybe she lost her sight… but he swore by Primus that he would never ever leave her side. He would be her light and her guide for the rest of her life.

#sam writes #thanks for the ask!#transformers #autobot #optimus prime #bayverse optimus prime #transformers x reader #human x reader #bayformers #optimus #optimus x reader #optimus prime x reader #transformers g/t #maccadam #maccadams #prowl

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devirnis · 3 months

Note

“feeling each other's pulse” pleeaassseeee 🥺👉👈

Anything for you, Molly my dear!

quiet my fears with the touch of your hand

Rating: G Relationship: Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz Word count: 1.2k Contains vague season 7 spec

Eddie comes to with a burning in his chest and Buck’s name on his lips.

For a second, he has no idea where he is or what’s going on, but then sound filters in around him – water crashing, sirens, people yelling out orders – and it all comes back to him in startling clarity.

The ship shifting suddenly. Debris crashing down and blocking the exit. Water rising with no way out.

Buck looking at him, heartbreak in his eyes, and saying, “I love you.”

“Oh, thank God,” someone says above him. It might be Bobby. “Ravi, help me get him in the ambulance.”

No, no, Eddie can’t go into an ambulance – not until he knows –

“Buck,” he gasps, trying to look around. “Where’s Buck?”

A hand on his shoulder, and the ground beneath him starts to move. “Eddie, just lie still.” Definitely Bobby. “We need to transport you.”

Eddie shakes his head. Bobby didn’t answer his question. That means he either doesn’t know or doesn’t want to tell him. Neither option is acceptable. “No, I don’t – where’s Buck?”

A telling pause. “Hen and Chim are working on him,” Bobby finally says.

Working on him? Eddie’s stomach plummets. No, Buck can’t – not again – not after he said –

“Ravi, on three,” Bobby orders.

“No!” Eddie flails his arms, tries to push himself upright. “No, let me – I can help – I need to see –”

“Eddie,” Bobby says calmly. “Hen and Chim have got him. Let us take care of you.”

Eddie glances around wildly. His gaze lands on a familiar turnout with WILSON written on the back, crouched over a few feet away from him. She’s obscuring his view of Chim, but Eddie can see that he’s on top of someone, performing compressions.

“Eddie –” Bobby tries again.

“Cap, I’m not going anywhere until –”

“He’s going to be okay, Eddie. Just let Hen and Chim –”

“I’m not going –”

“We’ve got a pulse!” calls Hen’s voice.

Relief crashes over Eddie like a tidal wave. His arms give out and he slumps down onto the backboard, finally allowing Bobby and Ravi to load him into the ambulance.

He’s unconscious before the doors slam closed.

---

When Eddie regains consciousness again, he immediately knows he’s in the hospital.

If the fuzzy memories of fighting with Bobby while he was bathed in the red emergency lights didn’t tip Eddie off, the exposed feeling of wearing a hospital gown underneath starchy sheets and the beeping from various machinery confirms it. It takes a monumental effort, but eventually Eddie manages to get his eyes open. The lights are dim, so it must be night. He lolls his head to the side and sees Bobby, asleep and slumped in a chair at his bedside.

Eddie frowns; he figured that if Bobby would be keeping vigil over anyone, it would be –

Buck.

Panic surges through him as he struggles to sit up. If Bobby is here and not with Buck, then that must mean Buck is in the ICU or surgery or –

As Eddie rips the covers back and swings his legs off the side of the bed, his eyes scan the rest of the room and he realizes he isn’t alone. There’s another bed across from him, and in it is a sight so dear that Eddie nearly topples off his bed as the fear drains out of him in an instant.

Buck is unconscious or asleep – Eddie can’t tell, and his eyes immediately flick to the vital signs monitor at Buck’s bedside. Buck’s pulse and blood pressure are normal and his oxygen levels are fine, but just reading Buck’s vitals doesn’t do much to soothe Eddie’s worry. He’s seen Buck hooked up to machines in hospitals too many times before, and only hours ago Buck’s heart was stopped again. Eddie is suddenly overcome with a desperate need to touch him. He needs to feel Buck’s heartbeat, his blood pumping in his veins, and only then will the uncomfortable, anxious skittering under his skin finally settle.

Eddie eases himself off the bed, grabbing his IV stand for support. The last thing he wants to do is go crashing to the ground and wake Bobby up. He gingerly makes his way across the room in his bare feet, and lowers himself into the chair at Buck’s bedside. Reaching out, he gently takes Buck’s hand and flips it over, pressing his fingers into Buck’s wrist.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Buck’s pulse is strong beneath Eddie’s fingertips. The tightness in his chest loosens, and Eddie relaxes back into the chair, keeping Buck’s wrist in his grip. He’s alive, Buck’s alive; they’re both going to be fine.

Eddie doesn’t know how much time passes, but he finds himself slowly nodding off, soothed by the steady beat of Buck’s heart. He’s completely fine with drifting off to sleep in this chair, but then he feels Buck twitch. Eddie straightens up a little, suddenly awake, as he looks over Buck for any sign of distress. His vitals still look good, but his heart rate is starting to climb.

Buck’s face twists, and he makes a small, pained noise. Eddie’s own heart rate spikes and he starts fumbling with his other hand, searching for the nurse call button –

“Eddie…” Buck whispers.

Eddie shifts his grip, grasping Buck’s hand firmly. “I’m right here.”

Buck shakes his head back and forth. “Eddie…”

Oh god, is Buck hallucinating? Eddie’s just about to press the call button when Buck’s eyes fly open and he sits bolt upright, his gaze skittering around frantically.

“Eddie!” he gasps again. “Where’s –?”

“Buck, Buck, I’m right here!” Eddie squeezes Buck’s hand. “It’s okay, I’m right here.”

Buck’s eyes finally land on him. He blinks a few times, like he’s expecting Eddie to disappear any second. Eddie squeezes his hand again and Buck looks down quickly before looking back up at Eddie.

“You-you’re okay?” Buck rasps.

Eddie smiles. “I’m okay, you’re okay. We’re both okay.”

Buck presses his lips together into a thin line, still clearly uneasy. Eddie can’t blame him; after all, he walked himself across the hospital room in bare feet just so he could get his hands on Buck to reassure himself that Buck was fine, even if he had the evidence right in front of his eyes.

“Here,” Eddie says. He takes Buck’s hand and touches Buck’s index and middle fingers to his pulse point, just like he’d done for Buck earlier. “Feel that? That’s my heart. I’m here with you.”

“Ye-yeah,” Buck croaks. He presses his fingers more insistently against Eddie’s wrist.

They stay like that for a few minutes, just sitting in silence, Buck’s fingers on Eddie’s pulse, Eddie’s eyes on Buck’s monitor. Buck’s heart rate slowly returns to normal and Eddie finally feels like he can breathe easily again.

Eventually, Buck clears his throat. “Do you… do you remember what I said?”

“You think I was gonna forget you telling me you’re in love with me?” Eddie teases gently.

Buck blushes, averting his gaze. “I’m sorry –”

“Don’t apologize,” Eddie interrupts. Then a horrible thought strikes him. “Unless you didn’t mean –”

“No!” Buck’s wide-eyed gaze snaps back to him. “No, I’m just sorry that I told you like that. I wish– I wish it was in a romantic setting, not a life or death one.”

Eddie brings Buck’s hand up to his lips. “Once we get out of here, I’ll take you out for dinner. That new fancy Italian place that just opened.” He kisses Buck’s knuckles. “You can tell me again then.”

Buck gives him a bashful, pleased smile. “Deal.”

(also on ao3)

#911 fic #buddie fic #evan buckley x eddie diaz #physical intimacy prompts #myfic #fic: quiet my fears with the touch of your hand #bigfootsmom #ali answers

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hobisstar · 7 months

Text

What are you hiding from love?| Yandere!Jk x Reader III

Summary: Being in a relationship with Jungkook you’ve always noticed the signs, the red flags if you will. Being so in love with him you ignored them, until the people you loved dearly started disappearing one by one.

Warnings: Murder, Jungkook victim blaming ( like he will say i killed you because you are too stupid or whatever), Possessiveness, Mentions of Smut, Controlling, Locking up YN, Attempt Suicide.

Viewers Discretion is advised.

Taglist: vante 🫶🏾

A/N: This is made to be scary! That is all. I honestly dont like mixing smut with yandere because i read yandere fics to be spooked not horny lol. This chapter will contain attempt suicide.

2 months.

2 bloody months.

It’s been 2 months since yn found out about what jungkook does as a so called hobby.

He’s promised to let her roam around the house if need be and that he didn’t break.

The only thing was when he was at work or out of the house, he made sure she was in his office locked away from the eye.

Yn currently, was tired. Tired of being treated so nicely but so terribly at the the same time. He loves her but keeps her locked away. Why?

She swore she’d never tell a soul about anything that she has seen, as long as he lets her live peacefully, that is.

But, every day Jungkook left for work, Yn was thinking of different ways to get out. Being locked up the only way out was the window.

Residing on the 5th floor of the apartment building, the window was the only option. That was death awaiting her. Yn knew that.

But what else was left to live for? When your lover has had so many hidden lies, a life you never imagined. A life you assumed wasn’t even in his blood.

The signs were always there. But being so love yn ignored the flags.

Thinking maybe he just wants to make sure I am protected, maybe he wants to keep me safe.

This all was things she thought of plenty of times.

With a rush of adrenaline Yn went into thinking. Yes, the window is the only option, but she didn’t want to die. Maybe she could just break the window open and attempt to jump, maybe someone would see her and come help her right?

Without any other thinking she started punching at the window. Hurting yes, but the pain was washed away with the feeling of wanting to be free.

Yn continued to punch at the window seeing little cracks and not caring if her first and hands where covered in blood. She wanted out.

“One more hit..” she thought and with that one hit she heard the glass shatter and freedom was waiting for her.

Looking down she saw the ground and her heart dropped to her stomach. Would this really be the end? Al because of the being locked up? I mean he loves her, but it was suffocating.

Jungkook was smiling as he got out of his car with dinner and flowers. He stepped into the building and seen his neighbor standing at the front desk. He waved but she looked worried.

“Jungkook! Oh thank god your here! I think someone broke into your home! I headed glass shatter-“

Dashing to the elevator he aggressively pressed the button. “Fucking come on!” He yelled impatiently as if he didn’t just press the button 1 second ago.

He kicked the door and went for the emergency stairs. 5 cases of stairs? No problem. His heart was in his stomach but he swore he could hear it in his ears. She wouldn’t hurt herself to just get away from him would she? Of course not… or maybe Jungkook was wrong. What if someone broke in and oh god…

With that thought he finally reached the stairs and lucky for him there home was right next to the emergency exit. Jungkook quite literally kicked the door down and saw Bam barking at the office door.

“Baby! Baby are you in there?” He yelled through the door ,not hearing a response. Without thinking he kicked the door handle a few times and it fell to the ground.

Pushing the door open he entered the cold room and gasped.

Yn was sitting on the window frame backwards. Facing the door, well now him, Yn let a tear roll down her cheek. “Baby… whatever you are thinking about doing right now… we can talk it out, yeah? We don’t have to get hurt while doing this…” he calmly approaches her talking small but huge steps towards her.

The softness of his voice made her only want to lean back faster. “ we can’t talk, Jungkook. I’m done being in here…”, “ is that was this is about? Baby, I’ll stop locking you in here for good but please get down from the window…” at this point Jungkook was crying without even noticing he was crying.

“No! I want to be free I want to leave.” Yn stated and scooted back even more feeling the glass stab her in her hands and In the back of her thigh.

“Let me go…” she mumbled looking back at him and he froze.

“You-Your doing this… to leave me? Why aren’t I good to you?” He moved closer carefully, not wanting her to leave. “I don’t want to die! But if this is the only way to get away from you then I’m willing to take that risk…”

Without thinking Jungkook jumped and grabbed her pulling her off the window quickly which sent her into gasping feeling the glass that was in her thigh come out.

She didn’t fight she didn’t cry. What’s the point? Yn knew she wasn’t going to jump she loved her life but just didn’t like the part of this. She felt jungkook wrap her in his arms and he cried as loud as he ever cried.

It’s only begun, maybe she can use this as a way to get out of here? What if he went crazy and killed her himself? What if he actually pushed her out that window? So many thoughts ran through her head at the moment of being in his arms.

“Never say that again baby,” he looked at her tears dropping from his eyes to his cheeks, down to his shirt. “ I love you too much to loose you, why don’t you understand that?”

Maybe this was the end. Maybe this was just a sign to let her go in Jungkook eyes.

She was willing to kill herself then be with him…

He had a decision to make

#jungkook #bts jeongguk #jeon jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #hobisstar writes #jk x reader #jk ff #jungkook ff #jungkook yandere #yandere jungkook #bts yandere

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milesmolasses · 11 months

Text

Not Ridin' on Consistency (Hobie x blk! reader)

AHHH ITS HEREEE

i’ve been wanting to write about hobie for the longest.

I finally got around to it!!

⚠️: takes place around midtown Manhattan (42nd St?), really bad British slang, mentions of red heads, theres a reference in here to my favorite place ever (if u find it, i'll give u a cookie)

"I'm walking on clouds right now, holy shit," you laughed to your close friends. Coming back from gigs at ragers and raves was becoming frequent for the small band we configured. Performing with a small group of friends that you've known since childhood felt like a crazy fever dream; like an "Oh my god there is no way this shit is real" type of fever dream.

Though the gigs you got were small and didn't draw much traction, the fact that there were people out there who enjoyed the type of music you put out there, especially within the black community, really brightened your spirits and only furthered the small band's hopes of one day being wildly known amongst the people.

"My god man, did you see that one girl at the bar ogling at Malcolm?" asked Marsh. They walked in front of the group, skipping as they turned their body to walk backward, now properly looking at you and Malcolm while still ahead.

"What the one with red hair?"

"Yes, bro! Jesus fucking Christ it was like she was undressing you with her eyeballs," said Marsh, hands covering their eyes for comedic effect. Marsh had a knack for knowing when and how people stare at their friends, it's like they can feel other people's eyes on you. If you ever wanted to know if a cute girl or your crush was staring at you, they'd be the one to know.

You threw your head back as you laughed and jabbed Malcolm in his side, telling him, "Yo, you better watch out my black brotha, don't wanna be snow bunnied!"

The Dr. Umar reference seemed to set Malcolm over the edge as he complained the rest of the walk to the train station. Sayings like "My red-head phase was over mad long ago," or "Ya'll never gon' let me live that phase down huh," and other deflections were all that was said the rest of the way to the station.

Upon your arrival at the station, the emergency exit was open with busy people hustling to go in and out of the station without having to pay. So with a small crowd of people, you and your guys went through the exit. One person, in particular, caught your eye amid the crowd of people; loud, statement black wicks and a leather jacket wrapped around his waist, probably removed because of how hot it was in the station, and a scuffed pair of well-worn doc martins to pull together his all-black fit. A beautiful dark skin shimmering with sweat in the crowd of people, and to go with that, the eyebrow and lip piercings he had really suited his hard face. Strapped around his body, was a guitar out in the open with no case. "No case on the guitar isn't crazy?" you thought to yourself.

"Hello??? Y/N are you still with us, we have a train to catch?"

You blinked as you realized where you were. It's not like you were in a trance, just in your own head for a while, admiring him... Huh, suppose he did put you in a trance. Looking at Marsh in front of you, you looked up a bit past their head to see the train schedules and when the train was coming. Reading the sign it said the next train would be there in three minutes. "We have time, c'mon," you said as you walked past Marsh to the staircase headed to the 6 train.

Marsh looked up at Malcolm, eyes wide and astonished, "Did I not just..."

"Never mind that, let's go," said Malcolm. Marsh watched as Malcolm followed you up the stairs absolutely dumbfounded.

"I'm not appreciated enough," March mumbled as they sighed.

As you walked along the platform, you looked around to sus out your surroundings deciding on where a good place to stand and wait for the train was. That's when you saw him again, leaning on a surface with his hands in his pockets staring off into space. Your head started to wander with thoughts of who this guy was, and if you should know him or not considering the guitar strapped around him. Thinking of every punk, alt, and rock group you knew, you just couldn't seem to draw a conclusion about who this guy was. Maybe he wasn't in a band, maybe he rocked solo.

You stood on the opposite end of him, looking back to see where your crew was. You saw them headed towards you from the staircase as you smiled and waved them over. They were pretty far in the distance so you lightly giggled to yourself as you watched them speed walk.

"Nice threads."

What you heard next to you, was a man with a deep, thick British accent, and Lord did it made you weak in the knees. You subtly leaned against the stature close to you and looked to see to where the voice was coming from though, you felt like you had a pretty good idea of who was talking to you.

"Who me?"

"Yeah you bruv, ain't no one else I could be talkin' to."

You raised an eyebrow and your nose flared looking at him; this British attitude he was taking up with you did not sit right with you at all. Before you could say something you heard the train rumble and the lights grow brighter as the train emerged from its tunnel.

Malcolm was the first to make it to you with Marsh not trailing far behind as he said, "There is no reason this platform needs to be so damn long! The train doesn't need all this space!"

You could barely hear him though, with the train closely approaching and the British dude still on your mind.

"Literally, I knocked my case into people trying to speed walk over here," said Marsh gesturing to her case and the people all the way down the platform.

The train slowly came to a stop as it squealed along the tracks. Walking on the train as the door opened, you and your crew walked to an open area near the door opposite to the ones you walked through. Leaning on the door with Malcolm in front of you, you looked to your left and saw him, the rocker dude who gave you attitude earlier. Ignoring him, you decided to pay attention to your friends surrounding you. However, it appeared Marsh had other plans.

"Hey man, you should probably get a case for that soon. Don't want it getting scuffed up," said Marsh as they peered at the British guy standing next to you.

"Yeah, I've been told. Thanks mate."

In such a packed train, it was hard to move around to get a better look at the dude, so Marsh peeked her head even further to continue to conversation further. "So you play with anyone orrr..." they said, voice dozing off on the last part.

"Uh-huh. Got some ol' chaps back in London who I play with. You lot play good tonight?"

He turned his head looking over at Malcolm seeing that he had a drumstick twirling between his fingers. "Yeah at this underground place on 42nd. Shit was wild man," said Malcolm as he reached his hand out to give the guy a fist bump.

I stayed silent during their small talk about punk rock and guitars and whatnot. I fiddled with the strap on my shoulder from my bass case trying to look forward and ignore the conversation.

As they smiled and laughed at some joke Malcolm made, Marsh peeked their head towards the mystery guy and asked "Yo what's your name again?"

"Hobie. Hobie Brown."

The train began to loosen up a bit as more people started getting off at their stops. More seats opened up so we sat down across from each other. Marsh and Malcolm sat on one end of the train and me and Hobie sat on the other side.

"You strum? What model?" he asked nodding down at my case.

"Not guitar, I play bass," I said not even looking up at him.

"Bare quiet. Feels like I'm under some quiet investigation– you won't even give me the time of day," he chuckled. You turned your head towards him as you scrunched your eyebrows at him.

"Ten minutes ago you were rude to me."

"You're exaggerating innit, I was only pointing out the obvious," he said raising his eyebrows and smiling as if he was all innocent. But really he was laughing at your sensitivity.

"Mandem over there was just telling me about how good you were during your show," he said, nodding to Marsh and Malcolm on the other side of the train. "Good lot they are you know?"

"Of course I know, they're my friends idiot," you said, smiling as you rolled your eyes.

"Now that's proper rude, only been two minutes and you're taking the piss out of me," he said, voice laced with sarcasm.

"I-I'm sorry- taking the WHAT out of you?!" Now it was your turn to laugh as you covered your mouth and lolled your head back, not able to control the laughter coming from you.

He sucked his teeth and smiled as he mumbled under his breath, "Americans."

"Hey, you're lucky I don't start coming for your dental institutions next," you said as you looked over at him and smiled.

Looking up at the impending stops you had left on the train, you recognized Malcolm's stop was next, so he would be getting off soon. Turning to look at Hobie still sitting, you stood up and asked him to put his guitar down to save your seat. "Are you mad-!?"

"Just for two seconds while I say bye to Malcolm," you said already standing up and walking two steps to where Malcolm was sitting.

When you walked up to him, he was grinning up at you with the fattest smile ever, already standing up from where he was sitting ready to get off the train. "He's cute-"

"Shut up and c'mere," you rolled your eyes as you hugged him close to you. "Today was good man, text me when you get home," you said.

"Of course," he smiled as he pulled away, blowing a kiss to Marsh still sitting down.

"Text me when he asks you out," was the last thing he said to you as he exited the train. Looking towards Marsh and taking the now empty seat next to them, you rolled your eyes as you complained about how unbelievable he was for saying that. What you didn't notice was that Marsh wasn't looking at you as you spoke to them, they were looking directly in front of them.

"You say all this now, but what if I told you he has been staring at you for the past few minutes?"

"What-" You looked away from Marsh to see Hobie looking right at you, guitar by his side still saving your seat. When he noticed you looking back, he smirked at you as he nodded his head.

Marsh gave you a knowing look as they elbowed your side, "What the hell are you still doing here? He's waiting for you!"

You sighed while smiling as you walked over to Hobie. He took his guitar from the seat and shuffled to cross it back around his torso.

"So here I am looking dizzy with a guitar sitting next to me while the peng girl who asked me to do this is chattin' up her mates," he said as his eye followed your body as you sat next to him.

"I don't know if that was meant to be a compliment or if you just insulted me," you joked.

"You didn't give me much of a choice innit. I never got your name," he smiled at you.

Your nose flared, but not in annoyance from him like last time, but in a more bashful sense. You smiled and lolled your head to the side as you chuckled, "Y/N."

"Nice name, it up for sale?"

You giggled as Hobie focused on the way your shirt slightly lifted as you brought your hand to your mouth. "You never really thanked me for the compliment I gave you. Death is a proper band y'know?" He was talking about the graphic tee you wore; a band you've known most of your life called "Death," was plastered across your shirt.

"Oh! You mean the compliment that followed up with you painting me out to be a fool right after? That compliment?" Sarcasm and attitude dripped in your tone and it was driving Hobie mad. He laughed as he stretched his long legs out, turning to look at you.

"I'm serious! I'd pay a tenner to meet someone who has even half the mind to look up black rock artists, and here you are in a t-shirt making my wildest dreams come true," he said looking up with his head turned to the side to look at you.

"Ever since I was young, Death was all I heard growing up. Mom was like this huge super fan and would always play their popular songs," your mind wandered off to your childhood. You thought about music blasting through the walls of your childhood home, while your mother bathed you. Her soft eyes contrasted the music she played loudly, lowly singing the lyrics and looking at you lovingly.

"I'm sorry for your loss mate.. must be tough," said Hobie genuinely.

"Oh god, she's not dead!" Your hands covered your face as you bent down laughing. "She just doesn't play them as often anymore!"

"Geez you were chattin' like she passed," Hobie laughed. He watched you laugh and the way your face creased as you smiled, leaning into him. You had the prettiest shiny tooth gem decorating your left canine, glittering in the soft train light. He paid attention to the way your locs flowed and swayed with you wherever your body we. It was almost hypnotizing as they framed your face perfectly.

"I'm gonna call you Bonnie. Okay, Bonnie?"

You lifted your head out of your hands and looked at him with eyebrows furrowed in confusion, still smiling. "Does Bonnie mean something in the British language?"

"Look it up American," he said rolling his eyes. The deep dimples on his face made you smile in delight. They went well with all the lines and creases in his face; "He must be living a happy life," you thought to yourself.

Hobie looked up to see how many stops he had left, which wasn't many. "I gotta get going soon, Bonnie," he said rubbing his hands together. Standing up and brushing his pants off, he looked up at you and said "Welp, I'm off for tonight."

"W-wait huh? Hol' up a sec-" you said as you got up after him to the train doors. Turning to look at you, he raised an eyebrow as a way of questioning you.

"You should at least get my number or something. Unless you leave all your girls hangin' and bangin'," you said smirking up at him.

He chuckled as he looked down at your stature, "Nuff of my "girls" would have figured out by now that I don't have a phone and knock me off for a wasteman."

"So it appears we've run into a little problem, hmm? How can I see you again if you're what the girls say, a wasteman," you questioned with a small glint of hope in your mischievous eyes, hoping that he would give you something, anything that hinted at where you could see him again.

"A loft in Brooklyn might be a good place to start.. "

It was then that the train came to a stop and the door opened. Just as he was about to step off the train, he looked back at you and said,

"But I wouldn't count on it, see, I'm not really ridin' on consistency."

RAHHHHHHH

shit took entirely too long to write

but very worth it <3

#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #hobie x you #spider punk #spider punk x reader #spiderman #milesmolasses

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fluffyhare · 2 months

Text

Like Real People Do, Part 8! ♡ (Casper x Avery)

☁️ Summary: Avery's cloud form starts to emerge in public. Casper takes quick action to try and save him. Big crying scene -- BIGGER tickle scene. This fic is outrageously self-indulgent, even for me.

☁️ Warnings: Ler!Avery fans... this one is for you. Unspeakably, desperately vulnerable. Lots of crying. Discussion of trans (ftm particularly) topics. Men in their underwear (no genital nudity). If you can get through the emotions, I reward you with the biggest, teasiest Ler!Avery scene you can imagine. This is not NSFW, however… it is very suggestive. If you skip to the end... well, I just can't believe you! (Just kidding, read this however you want.💙)

☁️ Author's Note: I discuss being a demiboy/FTM pretty intimately here. Importantly, I do not claim to speak for every demiboy/gay/FTM/trans person. I am not a gender studies major, this is just my experience, and I do not have to justify it to anyone. Do not come in my messages/ask box with critical language about how I describe my experience. If you do, I will immediately block you.

This is a series now!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8 *you are here

If you just got here and want to know more about my characters, you can read my comic starting right here!

My eyes frantically scanned the storage area. Luckily, it was vacant, at least for now.

Gary's Market was a relatively small grocery chain, and the stockroom was clean and well-organized. Large shelving racks stood in rows that reached the ceiling, and a small handful of pallets waited to be unloaded. Above us, rows of fluorescent lights hummed softly.

“Look for an exit,” I whispered, still grasping Avery's wrist.

“Casper, I'm so sorry-”

“Shh, no time for that now, let’s just get out of here.” I let go of him, walking to the end of the entryway and peeking around the nearest shelving unit. At the end of the hallway, past several rows of goods, was a glowing red exit sign.

“Oh, thank god. Let's go,” I turned back to Avery.

My blood ran cold.

I had not seen the employee who was approaching us; perhaps he had been in an adjacent aisle when we entered, had found what he needed, and was returning to the sales floor. Avery was still standing in the doorway, and as soon as the man rounded the corner, they would be face-to-face. The brunette twenty-something held a jar of peanut butter in one hand, and the only reason he hadn't seen me yet was because he was holding his phone in the other, texting with his thumb.

There was still space between us, but not so much that I couldn't read his nametag: David. “Hi, my name is David!” I imagined the smaller print said. It was difficult to believe the bored-looking youth, with his wrinkled uniform and beat-up Vans, would ever introduce himself that way.

Avery wasn't looking at me. If I called to him, the clerk would certainly hear. If I moved, I was sure to catch David's peripheral; he would see me, and then he would see Avery. There was nothing I could do; David was about to ruin my life.

What would happen, then? Would he scream? Would he pass out, as I almost had the first time I saw Avery? Would he tell his boss, then his family, then the news? His phone was already out – what if he took pictures? I imagined Avery's terrified face on CNN, Twitter, Tiktok. A cold sweat broke out all over my body as my insides twisted, a metallic taste filling my mouth. Was I really going to lose him – and like this?

Suddenly, Avery moved, his feet shuffling on the concrete floor as he widened his stance. His hands extended outward, fingers spread and clawed, as if he were preparing to grapple someone. His fingertips began to glow.

Was he going to attack this man?! My heart raced.

“Oh god, Avery, no!” I screamed internally. Whatever I imagined might happen to Avery would be infinitely worse if he harmed someone. He wouldn't just be captured and studied, he'd be killed. My blood pressure plummeted. I tightened my grip on the storage rack; I was about to collapse.

Then, the sound of crackling electricity filled the air. Until that moment, I hadn’t known electricity could sound like fire. A series of deafening pops rang out, followed by a blinding flash – then glass rained down on us as every lightbulb in the room exploded.

“What the fuck!” David cried as he dropped his phone.

Before I could react, I felt a cold hand on my arm, guiding me down the hallway toward the exit. The sign itself had gone out, too, but I could barely make out where sunlight seeped through the cracks. My knees were weak as Avery pulled me through the door and into the bright daylight, practically tripping over my own feet as I tried to regain my bearings.

The alley behind Gary's was empty, except for a pair of dumpsters and a few broken wood pallets. It was a clear day, and on the other side of the building, my car was right in the middle of the parking lot. We weren't out of the woods, yet.

I pulled Avery behind the dumpsters. His face was a mask of emotions I had never seen on him: guilt, shock, desperation. Fingers trembling, he carefully picked a piece of glass out of my hair. I could tell he was about to say something; I cut him off, cupping his cheek with my hand.

“Avery, stay right here. I'm going to bring the car around, okay? Stay right here behind this dumpster. I'll be right back.” I turned away before he could respond, jogging to my car as my heart shattered to leave him in such a state.

As I got in my car, I glanced at the store's entrance. The lights were on; I guessed the sales floor was on a different breaker than the warehouse. That was good – the less people who saw the lights go out, the better. I sped around back and parked next to the dumpster. Avery was right where I left him, huddled in a ball, face hidden in his hands.

“Hey, hey, it's okay… you're okay, you're safe now,” I comforted as I helped him into the back seat. Luckily, my car windows were tinted – practically a necessity in the desert where I was from. Afraid that David (or really, anyone) might come out the exit, I got in the driver's seat and pulled around to a secluded parking area. I climbed into the back, kneeling on the seat beside Avery as I put my hand on his shoulder. It was then that I realized just how small he was – I guessed he had shrunk to my height, maybe even shorter. He was still hiding his face in his hands.

“Avery… are you okay? I'm so sorry. I should have set an alarm… This is all my fault.”

“Casper, I'm- I'm- I'm so s-sorry!” He broke into a sob, his shoulders trembling as tears leaked out from under his hands. I saw, too, that the flat bottom of his head was dark and puffy. Water gushed from him, soaking his clothes. He wasn't just crying, he was raining.

“Oh my god, Avery, it isn't your fault! None of this is your fault!” I put my arms around him, hugging him into my chest. I hated to cry, especially when I was trying to comfort someone else, but I couldn't help it; my eyes stung as tears streamed down my cheeks, too.

“I- I should have known. I- I put you in danger,” he choked, his square glasses falling into his lap as he rubbed his pale eyes. He was completely soaked – so was my car seat – and as he cried, he was shrinking quickly. I panicked.

“You're shrinking! Avery, please stop crying! We're safe now, okay? I'll get you something to drink, alright? I'm not mad – at all – and I'm SO sorry. God, this is all my fault…” My stomach churned with regret. How could I have been so thoughtless? When we first met, I always set a timer on my phone, just to make sure we never ran out of time. As we’d grown closer, I'd become more and more lax. It had never been an issue before today, but now, my carelessness could have cost Avery his life. How could I live that down?

He looked up, then, to meet my eyes for the first time. Gently, he tucked a wisp of damp hair behind my ear. “Casper, i-it's not your fault, either. I know today was different from usual, there's no way you could have known. Please… don't cry,” he sniffled. “My heart breaks when you cry.”

“You don't cry! My heart breaks when you cry! So put that in your juice box and suck it!” Through my tears, I managed a small, but sincere laugh. Sniffling again, Avery giggled back. Regaining a bit of composure, he picked up his glasses, wiped the lenses and put them back on his face.

“How about we agree that, before we leave, we always set a timer. No matter what. Deal?” I kissed Avery's forehead, gently wiping the last of his tears. It was a bit wavering, but he finally gave me a real smile.

“Deal.”

+++

Avery protested, but I had to go back into the store to get our groceries. By the time we had finished crying, both of us were soaked, which earned me plenty of uncomfortable stares as I checked out. I had never been so thankful to be home.

He started to assist me with putting away the groceries, but I pointed sternly to the couch. “Dude, you’re shorter than me right now. You need to sit down and start hydrating, don’t worry about the groceries, I can handle it. Oh! I got you this.” I handed him a styrofoam cup with a dome lid. “It’s an ICEE. At first, I thought I should get you Gatorade… but your body isn’t like mine; you have ice crystals in there. I thought this might help you hydrate faster. It’s kinda like ice cream, but… different. It’s cherry flavored, think you’ll like it.”

Avery took the cup from me. His wet clothes hung on him like a tent in his diminished form – his glasses, too, were cartoonishly big for his shrunken face. I watched him sip slowly from the straw – then, his eyes lit up with an expression I recognized. He started to drink faster. I was delighted to have been correct in my selection; as he drank, he was rapidly growing in size.

“Heh, I’m glad you like it. Uhh… woah there, turbo, slow down. You’re gonna get-”

“Ow, ow, ow!” Avery winced, clutching his head. “Ahh… I’m not sure I like this, after all.”

I snorted. His mouth – normally a pale blue – had already turned purple from the red dye.

“Dude, you got a brain freeze. You can’t drink cold stuff that fast.”

“Ah, I see. It… tastes so good, though…” He started sipping again, his eyes forming half-moons of enjoyment.

I tittered. Relatable.

I worked on the groceries as Avery rested on the couch, sipping his drink and scrolling on his phone. By the time I was finished, he had returned to his smallest “normal” size – 6”3 (190.5cm ♡) and there was a big wet spot on my couch. I should have put a towel down, first.

“Alright, let’s get out of these wet clothes. I know you don’t have a spare set, here… but you can just wear your pajamas until your day clothes are dry, okay?”

It cost an extra thirty dollars per month, but it was worth it to have the tiny washer and dryer set in my unit. Standing over the washing machine, I peeled off my wet shirt and jeans, leaving me in my plaid boxers.

“What is this…?” Avery asked. I hadn’t noticed him leave the couch, and I jumped slightly. Though we had been together for several months, his quiet footsteps – and unexpected speed – still caught me off guard sometimes. He was pinching the hem of my half binder. I realized that I was currently more exposed than he had ever seen me, and having fallen asleep unexpectedly the night before, I had never even taken it off.

“Oh… uh, it’s a binder,” I replied, embarrassed.

“What is it for?” Avery looked concerned.

My binder was wet, and at that point, I had been wearing it for well over twenty-four hours. I was uncomfortable, and I was sure I looked it, too. A sigh rolled from my chest. I knew I would have to explain this to him, eventually. I just didn’t expect it to be today, when I had already spent so much energy… well, fearing for our lives.

“Remember last month, when I explained queerness for humans? I know for clouds, you guys all get born the same, and you can kinda decide what your bodies look like. Well… for us, we get born how we get born, and sometimes we get born looking a different way than we feel inside. For humans, changing our bodies is actually really hard, and complicated… and sometimes, even if we feel a different way from how we’re born, we don't want to change our bodies. We just want to be seen for who we are inside, but in the bodies we're already in.”

I paused to look up at him – he was listening intently, his brow furrowed as he stared into my eyes. I shrunk under his intense gaze, blushing a bit.

“It’s rarely ever cut-and-dry, though, when we’re born a different way than we feel. Sometimes people get born in a ‘man's body,’ but they know they are female, and vice versa… but there are a lot of people who are in-between, too. Some people feel like ‘gender’ as a whole doesn't apply to them. Some feel a mix of things.

“I was born biologically female. Most of the time, I feel either male, or neither. It’s not that there's anything wrong with my body… it's just… when other people see me, I want them to see me how I feel inside. I wish I didn't have to wear a binder, but when I don't, people get ideas about me – and sometimes, I even get ideas about myself – that aren't who I really am,” I said, as if wearing a binder allowed me to pass consistently – it did not.

I was afraid to meet Avery's eyes, staring down at my wet clothes as they laid at the bottom of the washing machine. What would he think of me, now? Would he think I was just “confused,” as so many had said in the past? Even when they didn't say it out loud, I could tell. I could always tell.

A cool, soft finger crooked under my chin, gently tilting my head up.

“You will always be who you are inside when you're with me, no matter what your body looks like. Is that clear?”

My eyes welled with tears. I tried to look away, but Avery didn't let me.

“Don't let me find out that you've been wearing that thing longer than you should be – I know there must be safety precautions with something like that – and you never need to wear it when I'm around. In fact, I think you should take it off, right now. You don't have to do it in front of me, of course… but I can see that it's wet, and I can tell it's affecting your breathing. In fact, I've been able to tell many times in the past; I just presumed it to be a facet of your hypotension. Now that I know better, you can expect that I will be keeping you in check.” His intense gaze softened as a tear streaked down my flushed cheek. He encircled me in his huge embrace, a cool hand rubbing my back.

“Casper, I love you. I love you so much that it hurts, sometimes. Never feel like you have to perform for me, you are perfect just as you are.”

I trembled. I was frustrated to be sobbing for the second time in the same day, but Avery's chest was so soft, and his love was so big, I just couldn't help myself. Years of self-loathing and rejection poured out of me as he cradled my half-naked body against his chest.

“Shhh… it's okay, sweetheart. I know you must have been worried for months about what I'd think, but you don't have to worry any more.”

He pulled back from me, hands on my shoulders and a gentle, playful smile on his lips. He peered at me over the rim of his glasses.

“Now, go change, okay? I believe I made a promise to you earlier, and I intend to keep it.”

+++

Avery and I changed separately. I was soaked all the way through, so I donned new boxers and a fresh, loose t-shirt. It was a relief to be free of my binder. I inhaled deeply, feeling my ribs fully expand. Though I was still a bit nervous for Avery to see my chest, after so much crying, a flood of endorphins suppressed my fear.

As I entered the living room, Avery was already on the couch, hands folded neatly in his lap. He was dressed in his pajamas, and I could only assume he had been drinking more ICEE, because he was especially big and fluffy once again. Only the washing machine’s soft whirring broke the silence.

“Come here, dear.”

I took a few steps toward him, and then a sudden force – like a gust of wind – swept me from behind into his lap. I yelped in surprise.

“Hey, that scared me!”

“Hehe, sorry – guess I’m feeling a bit eager.” He smirked. My eyes widened. Until that moment, I had not realized exactly what he meant about his… promise.

It was the one he had made in the frozen section.

“W-wait,” I stuttered, my ears growing hot as I tried to scramble out of his lap. It was too late; with one large hand, he ensnared both of my wrists, lifting them over my head. I squealed. “WAHAHAIT!”

Avery laughed gleefully, showing his delicate round teeth.

“What, exactly, am I waiting for?” He teased. “Am I waiting for you to be ready for how much this is going to tickle? Because, I don’t think you could ever be ready for that. Hehe… you’re just buzzing with oxytocin right now, aren’t you? This is going to be so fun. Wonder where I should start?”

“Pff-hahahaha!” I laughed, trying to curl inward, which was impossible with Avery holding my arms up. As I pulled against his grasp, I fully internalized that my strength was no match for his. I also knew that as soon as he started tickling, I was likely to go limp as a ragdoll, too weak to fight. Despite the futility, it was all I could do to struggle while I still could.

“All this giggling when I haven’t even touched you, yet – I never tire of it. You’re so cute. Why don’t you save some laughs for when I start tickling, dear? You’re going to need them… trust me.” With his free hand, he wiggled his plush fingers threateningly in the air above my tummy.

“AHAhahahahavery PLEASE!” I could hardly contain myself; he hadn’t laid a finger on me, yet I could feel his damnably soft fingers already, dancing all over my body.

“Please what? Please don’t tickle your cute tummy? You know… I think it’s only fair that I should get to see it, this time. I did, after all, show you mine. As a matter of fact… I think I want to turn this snack into a full course.”

Avery stood, scooping me into his arms “bridal style” as I squirmed, howling in protest.

“Put me down! You can’t just manhandle me like th- ACK!” Chuckling, he deposited me unceremoniously on the bed.

“Can’t I?” He mused.

Then, he flourished his hand in a way I’d never seen before. Like magic, two ghostly hands – very similar in appearance to Avery’s – appeared out of thin air. Before I could react, each of my wrists were grappled and pinned to the top of the bed.

“What is this! This is cheating!” I objected, pulling at my arms. It was no use – apparently, any strength that Avery had, he was able to transfer to these apparitions, too.

“All’s fair in love and war, isn’t it, Casper?” Tittering, he straddled my waist, one knee on each side of my wriggling body. He pinned me so firmly that between his weight and his cursed “helping hands,” I could barely move. My blush spread like fire; especially with my binder off, I’d never felt more vulnerable.

“There we are… Now, let’s see what you’ve been hiding, hm?” Avery gently lifted the hem of my shirt to my lower ribs, exposing my tummy completely.

He paused, his eyebrows raising. As I watched, a pretty cerulean dusted his cheeks. His eyes practically sparkled as he looked down at me, making me flush even hotter.

“Oh… Casper. Just look at you. Goodness, I… I knew you would be lovely, but… oh, you are so cute. Just look at this little belly button…” With a silky fingertip, Avery drew a circle around the rim of my navel.

“PFFF HEHhahAHAHA!” I shouldn’t have been, but I was surprised by how much it tickled. My stomach muscles tensed beneath his delicate touch; it was completely undeniable, impossible to block out.

“Oh, wow... Your blush goes all the way down, doesn’t it~?”

I could hardly stand this any longer.

“Plehehehease…!” I begged, though not entirely sure what for.

“Ah, sorry. You’re right: It’s impolite to play with your food.”

With that, he lowered all ten of his fingertips to my tummy, wiggling them deftly into my taut skin.

“AAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” I screamed with laughter, my hands balling into useless fists. My unrestrained feet kicked uncontrollably as my back, with the little space I was allowed, strained to arch off the bed.

“Oh no, does that tickle? Poor, sensitive Casper… have you forgotten what it’s like to be anxious, yet? No? I suppose I should keep going, then.” Avery giggled cheerfully, gently moving his fingers around my tummy, probing different spots randomly, just as I had done to him just a day prior. As always, his touch was so gentle; he always tickled with just enough force to excite the nerves beneath my delicate skin.

Fireworks exploded in my mind as the torture of sensation ran through my veins like electricity. I tried, but I was laughing too hard to even get a word out, like someone attempting – but unable – to tell the funniest joke they’d ever heard. Beads of moisture collected in the corners of my eyes as I shook my head, a halo of sweat forming on my pillow.

“What’s wrong, dear? Can’t stand the taste of your own medicine? I distinctly remember you tickling me, just like this. Could it be that you did so because you knew, if done on you, it would be simply unbearable? You’re already a mess, and we haven’t even gotten to your other spots, yet.”

Like a comedian pausing for effect, he stilled his fingers, grinning deviously.

“YOU’RE KIHIHIHLLLING MEHEHEHE!” I cried, finally able to somewhat form a sentence, though the tickle persisted long after he had stopped.

Avery laughed reactively – his big laugh, the one that I loved so much. My exposed, trembling tummy filled with butterflies.

“Would it be such a bad thing to die laughing?” He joked tenderly, leaning down to place a feather-light kiss on my tummy. Then he reached up, brushing the damp hair from my forehead. “Do you need a break?”

“...”

Avery lowered his tone, leering over his glasses again. “Before you answer, just so you know: I’m taking those armpits for a spin, next.”

The fluster I experienced was so powerful and so immediate, I saw stars.

“Y-Y-Yes, I need w-water,” I choked, imagining how crazed I must look to him. He chuckled, leaving the room for a moment, and then returning with a bottle of water. With a hand on my back, he helped me sit up. The hands holding my wrists relaxed, but not enough to give me free range of motion. I shot him a quizzical glance.

“Oh, dewdrop… You didn’t think I was going to let you go, did you?” He taunted, gently cupping my chin as he poured the water into my mouth.

I blushed furiously.

It was difficult to drink, as I was trembling from head to toe, but I managed… somehow. He set the bottle on the nightstand, and then I was trapped again, arms aloft as Avery sat on my waist.

He eyed me through his bifocals, a fingertip placed to his lips.

“Hmm… Under, or over your shirt?”

“What?!”

“Sorry, did I stutter? Under or over, Casper.”

“I-I-I…”

“What’s wrong, dear? Can’t you manage a simple, one-word answer~?”

My response was nothing but an incoherent whimper.

“Since it seems you’re feeling indecisive, I’ll choose for you. I choose under.”

“No! NO! AHAHAHahveery!”

He leaned forward, placing his fingertips on my bare lower ribs.

“Let’s just take a little trip, shall we? We’ll start right here.”

“NOHHOHOHO!”

“Then we’ll work our way upward, nice and slow…”

Avery walked his fingertips up my ribs, pausing now and then to wiggle into a soft spot.

“AAAAHAHA NOOO PLHEHEHEHEHASE!”

“You know, sometimes, it’s about the journey, not the destination… don’t you agree?”

His silky digits continued upward until they reached the top of my ribcage. I shook with laughter beneath him, my feet stomping the bed fruitlessly as my toes curled in desperation. I simultaneously dreaded and craved what was next.

“But, then again… it is nice to arrive, too~”

With that, he dipped his fingertips into each of my helpless armpits, scribbling gently into the bare hollows.

“Tickle tickle tickle,” he lilted, grinning.

My response was a delirious, unintelligible shriek. In my mind raged a five-alarm fire, searing any coherent thought to ash. With what little movement my restraints would allow, I thrashed beneath Avery, my heart palpitating so fiercely I was afraid it would escape my chest. Tears streamed down my burning cheeks, heralding my third cry of the day.

“Oh, my god… Your previous laughs were hardly a giggle compared to this. Have I finally found a favorite spot, sweetheart? Are you just too ticklish under these arms? Goodness… I could hardly tickle you any more gently, but even this is driving you nuts!”

I couldn’t respond – the tickle was so intense, so overwhelming that all I could do was laugh in futility. I had no strength left to struggle; my body lay limp beneath Avery as he killed me softly with those silky, gentle fingertips, stroking merrily away under my arms, destroying any hope I had of stringing two thoughts together.

After what seemed like an eternity – but in reality, must have been less than ten minutes – Avery stopped. The pair of hands that were holding my wrists released me, but I hadn’t even the strength to put my arms down. His cool hand stroked my cheek as he chuckled affectionately.

“Well, now… How do you feel? Have you forgotten what it’s like to be anxious?”

I sat up – tried to, anyway – and then collapsed back onto the pillow in a blissfully overstimulated huff. Avery started to giggle, which escalated to a delighted belly laugh.

“I’ll take that as a yes!”

“Avery…”

“Yes…?”

“If you don’t cuddle me – right now – I think I'm going to die.”

Still chuckling, he immediately enveloped me in his fluffy embrace, hugging me as if he were afraid someone would take me from him. I snuggled easily into his arms, cocooned in a heretofore unknown peace and safety. The last thing I heard was Avery’s characteristic lightning zap as the light flickered out; I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

#tickle fic #tickle fluff #tickling community #casper and avery #like real people do #fluffylore #writing #my fic #romance #tickling #ocs #my ocs

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aftonfamilyvalues · 1 year

Note

what if kronkk was turned radblr fanfic (featuring aftonfamilyvalues, oatmeal, and more)

“gyns we got a problem” folx said, her voice quaking as the others stared, “kronkk is going to get the button that will either let her delete all men or all radfems in 24 hours”

claps began to fill the space before folx stopped them with a look, “but someone put a spell on her and she’s reverted back to a TRA”

gasps and screams filled the room

“how!” “we’re going to die!” “I don’t want to lose rowling!” “nooooo!!”

“quiet!” folx commanded, “we have 24 hours to peak her. everyone xx fingers in”

the group gathered in a circle stuck their hands out together and to a shout of “vagina” lifted their hands into the air and scattered away to their respective vehicles on their way to kronkk

kronkk led the parade chanting “transwomen are women” she felt like such a good person. she didn’t know what it meant but that was okay, it couldn’t be wrong if all the good guys were chanting it with her. from the side of the parade route in came a women with leg hair running towards her “kronkk it’s me! femmesandhoney!”

kronkk narrowed her eyes she didn’t recognize the name kronkk.

“transwomen are men!” she yelled desperation in her voice

“terf!” kronkk yelled pointing her finger, not knowing how to block and stay safe in real life, she did the only thing she could, she turned and ran away.

unsteady on her ankles, kronkk turned a corner out a breath. from the shadows emerged a figure, a beautiful woman, menalez

“kronkk I don’t want drama with you, you have to wake up, women are adult human females”

kronkk screamed and took off running again. kronkk ran until she spotted a taxi, flagging it down she climbed inside, “take me home! 555 fifth avenue”

the taxi sped off as the driver noticed her stressed expression, “what’s wrong?”

“the terfs are after me,” kronkk explained, “and they are evil”

“what do you mean by that?” the driver asked politely.

kronkk stuttered, “they want genocide. they let men kill transwomen”

“do you think women have the kind of power over men to make them do or not do that?”

kronkk gasped, “you’re one of them!” pulling open the taxi door, kronkk rolled out into oncoming traffic, luckily they were at a red light.

opabinia let out a sigh as she watched kronkk run away, pulling out her walkie-talkie she spoke into it “gyns she’s on the move, heading towards 5th, over and out”

“copy” hundreds of voices whispered back

hours later, kronkk was shaking and clutching her passport, as she headed onto the plane, she had to get away, she had been stopped by so many radfems all day, even her own roommate, so now she had to leave the country.

as kronkk sat in her seat, by the emergency exit, a woman and baby sat down next to her.

the woman smiled politely, “I’m kelly” kronkk gave a smile back “I’m redacted” as the plane started to go down the runway.

as soon as the fasten seatbelt sign came off the kelly woman pulled out a bowl of oatmeal to eat and the baby began to cry, loudly.

“what do you think about crying babies on planes?” kelly asked, a mouth full of oatmeal

that phrase sounded familiar to kronkk, but why? kronkk suddenly noticed the onesie on the baby it said “I love my mommy terfectly” with dino print.

kronkk let out a scream threw open the emergency exit, grabbed the baby and tossed it out. the kelly woman dove after the baby and they disappeared into the clouds.

the rest of the plane ride kronkk was shaken. when she finally landed in Toronto Canada, she was glad to be abroad and far from the united states.

“no one’s peaked her yet?” folx hissed in frustration

“we need a plan b” cisthoughtcrime said slamming her hand onto a table

“we need to kill her! the old kronkk would understand, she wouldn’t want us all to die!” lavenderfeminist said in agreement.

hoorays of agreement rang out

“no!” folx hissed “no one is killing kronkk. she’s my best friend and I love her”

“awh!” blackswallowtailbutterfly smiled “I always shipped you two!”

sapphic-schizo pushed blackswallowtailbutterfly to the ground, “no one cool ships folx and kronkk, get a life!”

“enough!” folx yelled “we only have a few hours left. we have to trust the others have this. the best radfems are on it!”

maitakecat struggled to put blorbortion onto her shoulders. they collapsed onto the ground as blorbortion tried to unlatch the window lock for the 12th time

“you have to hold steady!” blorbortion said as they collapsed into the summer snow, it was always snowing in canada

“you try it then miss expert!” maitakecat hissed. why was breaking into kronkk’s hotel room so difficult.

stana dressed as hotel butler knocked on the door. kronkk opened the door.

“Can I interest you in the views of radical feminism?”

the door slammed in her face.

kronkk turned to hear screams from her neighbor’s hotel room “intruders!” and “sorry wrong room!”

kronkk closed her curtains, turned off the light and went to sleep. she awoke to the sound of angelic music as god entered the room, her hair glowing

“redacted, I have here two buttons, one that will delete all men and one that will delete all radfems”

kronkk narrowed her eyes, “how do I know this is real”

“I thought you might say that, I brought practice buttons, this is centered on a 50 mile radius in a random city, go ahead test it”

kronkk tentatively reached forward and clicked the delete all radfem button. with a flash an image appeared in the room. a woman aftonfamilyvalues collapsed to the ground dead, with her posters of severus snape and silco in her bedroom behind her.

“ready for the real button?” the god asked

kronkk nodded and approached the real buttons, her hand hovered over the delete all radfem button.

then the hotel door opened abruptly and a voice filled the space, “beloved?”

something about that calm and wise voice made kronkk turn towards it, her hand still outstretched.

The woman walked towards her as kronkk remained frozen. something about her she didn’t understand, but she couldn’t look away. the woman and her were now staring deep into each other’s eyes, as the woman cupped her face with her hand, stroking the side of her cheek gently.

“beloved this isn’t you”

the woman leaned in for a kiss and their lips met for a passionate kiss.

kronkk suddenly awoke from the spell, with a gasp she pulled back and slammed her hand down on the delete all men button.

cheers erupted from the hallway, as folx and other radfems ran in. tears were streaming down folx’s face as she embraced kronkk into a bear hug. radicallyaligned smiled sadly as she backed away and out of the room, knowing if they ever kissed again kronkk would be put back under that spell. her love would only protect her if they never were together again.

the end

okay the taxi part was brilliant, that had me laughing. i enjoyed another fic featuring my corpse

#ask

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forestshadow-wolf · 3 months

Text

Driving tips by someone who doesn't like to drive

These are non-specific things that I have learned in the 4-ish years I've been driving. My qualifications to tell you this is that I drive almost every day and still don't like it

1. Do not, if at all possible, drive with someone who will/does insult your driving. I understand that this is not always possible. Hell, I'm in this situation right now. But if you can, please avoid it.

If you cannot avoid driving around with someone who will or does insult your driving, fight back, argue, but END IT QUICK. DO NOT let it sit, do not let it go. If you have to deal with an angry, silent car ride, then fine. Because if you don't it will TANK your driving confidence, it happened to me, and I'm only now starting to pull myself out of it.

2. Cars, trucks, semi-trucks, even motorcycles weigh A LOT, and they are going very very fast. Please remember that metal and flesh do not mix.

There are some pretty good drivers on the road, but there are also plenty of bad drivers on the road, and it will only ever be the bad drivers that effect you. So DRIVE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE AROUND YOU IS A BAD DRIVER.

3. Be prepared to break at any time. This goes back to the last point.

To anybody who is reading this, and has not started driving yet. The thing is, when driving you are not always pressing on the gas to keep the car going, this si because of momentum and inertia. So when I am not pressing on the gas, my foot is hovering over the break pedal.

4. Four way stops. The driving classes will say whoever gets there first and then the person to the right. The way it usually goes is by order of who arrived.

Keep in mind that not everyone follows either of the rules and will go whenever they have an opening, even if it was "your turn".

5. Roundabouts/traffic circles. They all are singular direction only, usually turning right. They way they work is you enter, and follow until you reach your exit.

The tricky thing is timing. Typically there are 4 entrances/exits. My rule is they if they are at before (have not reached) the exit that is behind you, you are safe to go.

For example if I'm waiting to get in, and the traffic is going right. There is an entrance/exit on my left. If an car has not reached that exit, I may go.

Most of they time they are only 1 lane, but sometimes they are 2/2.5, meaning you have a lane that will take you to exit 3 (the one on your left) which is usually the inside lane, one that will take you to the 1st or 2nd exit (the one across from you) which will be the outside or middle lane. And occasionally there will be a lane that takes you to the 1st exit which is the outside most lane

(I know this was confusing, feel free to ends asks and I'll give a better answer)

6. The classes will say to drive by the speedlimit or 2/3 miles under. Ex: 45mph is the limit, drive 42/43mph.

For the class do as you're told, as well as if you have to take a dmv driving test. But otherwise follow traffic if you can. If you don't feel comfortable driving as fast as traffic, the stick to as fast as you are comfortable.

7. You will not be a good driver 100% of the time. You will not be a bad driver 100% of the time.

8. Blinking yellow arrow at turn lanes. This is basically a yield sign. Aka you can turn as long as there are no cars coming.

9. Turning on a red. You MUST make a full stop to check that there are no cars coming before you can go. These ONLY happen at turns where you are NOT crossing lanes of traffic.

10. Construction zones. You need to SLOW DOWN when passing road Construction. Sometimes they are working very close to where you are driving, and remember, FLESH AND METAL DO NOT MIX.

Sometimes they will "move" the lane, by this I mean they will make a path with traffic cones. Sometimes they have someone holding a stop sign. This is why we slow down.

11. Emergency vehicle. Wheb you hear the sirens, check your rear mirror, then ahead of you, then your side mirrors. Remember emergency vehicles can so against the flow of traffic if they have to.

Move to the side of the road. This means to the left OR the right in order to open up a space for them to pass by.

12. It's okay to take the longer route, or avoid highways, or any other road feature(s) if you don't feel comfortable enough

13. Space cushions. This is basically "the space around your car" your side mirrors, if positioned correctly, should show you the lines on the road. Usually you can't control the space behind you.

The space in front it what you'll pay attention to most of the time. The rule is 2/3 seconds of space. That means pick a spot, the car infront passes you, then 1. 2. 3 seconds, You pass. Or another good rule is if you can see about 1/1.5 car lengths between you and the car infront of you.

14. DO NOT drive while intoxicated (drunk/high/whatever), extremely tired, or otherwise impaired. This includes things such as if you went to the eye doctor and got your eyes dilated, if you are in debilitating pain, crying for any reason and you can't see through the tears, or some other reason.

If you are planning to go to a party or a bar or get intoxicated in any way, MAKE SURE you have a designated driver. ONE YOU CAN TRUST not to also get intoxicated.

Please ask me any questions you have at all about driving. I will do my best to answer them. Anon asks are on if you don't want to do it publicly. There are no stupid questions, especially on this topic.

#driving #driving tips #drive safe #safe driving #el rambles #el drives

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strayheartless · 3 months

Text

Might do some with this later, but for now I just need it out of my head:

**general plot idea is that Cloud was taken as a subject for testing, because they thought he was forgettable. Zack noticed, but after years of searching they only find him when they’re instructed to aid the R&D department with an escaped sample.

Warning for: blood and gore, also Hojo death, though that’s not likely “upsetting” to anyone**

By the time they got to the lab the place is a massacre sight. Bodies strewn from one end of the burning room to the other; blood decorating the walls like some kind of perverse paint job. Angeal covered his nose and mouth against the smell of burned flesh; the scent nauseating in the extreme.

Next to him Sephiroth lowered Masumune slightly, coming out of battle stance. There was no need for it here, any threat they could have eliminated had been taken care of. Angeal wondered about the mess they would find further in and swallowed against another wave of nausea.

“He cannot have done this himself,” Seph muttered, toeing a body over to find that the hole in the bodies chest was more than an exit wound. Somebody had put their whole fist through the persons chest.

Genesis sheathed his blade and came to stand by the general.

“All evidence to the contrary,” he said and crouched to check another body for a pulse. Nothing. They were all dead it seemed.

A whimper of distress sounded behind Angeal and the man turned to look at Zack. The boy had brought up the rear, making him the last to witness the mess. He wondered if he should have kept him out of the room for this.

Zack stumbled forward a little at the sight, clapping his hands over his mouth more in shock than repulsion. There was no doubt repulsion was there, but the shock won out every time.

He shouldn’t be strong enough to do this, he thought. I’ve trained him. I’ve fought him. He… he couldn’t.

“What did they do to him?” He says out loud.

Genesis stands back up, and crosses to him. He places a hand on Zack’s hip and kisses his temple.

“We’ll find him pup,” he murmurs into Zacks hair. “I promise,”

“The question is, how exactly will we find him?” Sephiroth surveyed the area, looking for doors, openings, anything to indicate where the blonde had gone. “If I were to make an educated guess, I’d say he’s stronger than all of us. He will not be easily subdued.”

Zack flinched. “We can’t kill him!” He cried, “Seph please he’s probably terrified, he do-“

Angeal cut him off with a raise of his hand.

“We are not suggesting that Zack, Seph only meant it may be hard for him to realise he can trust us. We may need to knock him out.” He placed a hand at Zack’s back, placing a little pressure to get him moving.

Genesis took his hand too. It warmed Angeal to know that his lovers were finally finding their ground, even if it was in the wake of tragedy and terror.

Sephiroth led the way through the bodies to the large garage door at the end of the room. The buttons were tacky with blood. Sephiroth hoped for all their sakes it was a sign that they were on the right track.

Past the door lay a long hallway and a single trail of blood along the floor. He was hurt. They needed to hurry.

The emergency lights above them cast an eerie red haze in front of them, making the trail look almost black in the odd light. There little sound coming from in front or behind them, but Angeal suspected they would not be able to hear much anyway bast the blare of the intruder siren.

As they crept along the passage, they saw more and more clear signs that the person they were looking for had been here. Sticky red hand prints and broken boxes and carts littered their path. It was clear that he was growing panicked, frustrated even. But why had he turned from the exit? He had been so close, why turn back after you were basically home free?

The answer it seemed came when they came to the next set of doors.

“Beyond here is the stasis lab. It is where professor Hojo keeps his more… violent subjects.” Sephiroth placed his hand on the release lever.

“Lover,” Genesis whispered, “remind me to kill that vermin if we do not find him dead already.” Sephiroth huffed a humourless laugh.

“Duly noted.”

Seph pulled on the lever and the door went up. Angeal wished it had stayed shut.

In front of them was a scene worse than the one they had left behind. More blood than he thought it possible to be contained in the human body washed the floor like a tidal wave had sped through here; bodies were not just strewn, they were hung and dismembered. Some hanging from wires, some their clothes. All looking like there was not a fight they could put up that would have saved them.

And in the middle of it all…

Hojo.

He’d been strung up like he was crucified. A martyr. A criminal. The bringer of a new age.

Whoever had done this had clearly thought the irony amusing. Angeal shuddered.

“Do we cut him down?” Zack whispered, barely audible against the incessant wailing of the alarm.

Angeal turned to Sephiroth. The mans eyes were locked on the scene before him. Taking a step forward, he lay a hand on the generals back.

“Seph,” he said it like a question. It didn’t just mean are you alright, it meant it is your call, he is your tormentor, your father. Sephiroth took a deep breath.

“Leave him,” he croaked. “Why show honour to a man who did not afford others the same courtesy?” And with that he he looks away and kept walking.

The next room was not so horrific. A few monster remains, a few guns without owners. But nothing on the level of before. The further they got, the more distant the alarms became, until eventually they were nothing more than static.

Room upon room of medical chairs and equipment. Terminals with cracked screens and notebooks splattered with traces of blood.

The drag marks on the floor told them that he had dragged the bodies into that room. He had displayed them, proudly. Or was it a warning? Come closer and this is your fate, come closer and I will show no mercy…

We’re they really rescuing him at this point? What would they find further in? Angeal worried he would have to brake his promise to Zack and he could see from the grim set of his mouth that Genesis feared it too.

Again they traversed the hallways, again they found much of the same, until they came to the main stasis room.

Inside sat a large holding tank filled with Mako water. It gurgled away quietly into the silence of the room. Inside it floated what Angeal could only really describe as a large cat/dog looking thing. A flame was lit, inexplicably, at the end of its tail as if it were not submerged.

Yet it was the body in front of the tank that interested them the most.

He was slender, lean, and small. His vertebrae clearly defined without a curve to his back as he sat with his butt between his folded legs, like he’d crumpled rather than sat. He was covered in blood, but they’d expected that. Shaking slightly from the cold, as he sat in nothing but his underwear and panting from clear physical exhaustion.

Angeal watched cautiously as Zack let go of Genesis’s hand and crept forward. He poised himself to spring out and grab him if if the body were to attack. Next to him Genesis and Sephiroth readied their weapons.

Zack threw out a hand to stay them.

“Cloud?” He called softly. “Cloudy? It’s me, it’s Zack…”

No response. Not even a flinch at his name.

“It’s okay sunshine, we’re not here to hurt you. We just want to take you home.”

Nothing.

Zack crept forward, all but having to date himself to reach out and touch Clouds shoulder.

“Zack,” Angeal warned, and pulled buster off of his shoulder, ready for a fight.

Except Cloud only reached up to place a hand on the tank, leaving a tacky red mark on the glass.

“Get him out,” he whispered. Zack barely heard him.

“Cloud did you hear me?” He asked, not sure what Cloud would want with what was clearly one of Hojos pet projects.

“Get him out,” he said louder and Zack flinched at the change. “He’s just a kid, let him out! Let him out!”

Cloud was yelling now, banging on the glass, clawing at the seals futilely trying to get in at the thing.

Zack looks wildly back at them, springing them into action. Genesis and Sephiroth moved to the control panels, while Angeal replaced buster at his back and got ready to pull back the pressure seal.

“Levels steady, proceed with draining.” Gen commanded.

“Draining commenced, stand ready Angeal.” Sephiroth ordered. “Zack go and grab some sheets. Anything we can use to soak up the Mako.”

Zack hesitated, looking desperately between his lovers, Cloud and the tank. What was going on?

“Zack,” Seph snapped. “We will stay with Cloud, do as I’ve ordered.”

This gets him moving and Angeal returns his attention back to readying at the door. As the last of the Mako drains away, the sound of the airlock releasing hisses into the air.

“Now Angeal,” Genesis nods at him slightly, eyes still on the creatures vitals.

Angeal pulls. The door begins to roll open slowly, inch by inch.

On the floor Cloud has moved, clawing his way into the tank, getting toxic Mako directly on his skin, burning himself. But he doesn’t seem to care. He puts all his efforts into dragging the creature out, whispering a string of shhh I’ve got you’s and I’m sorry I came as fast as I could’s

Zack came bustling back into the room ladened with curtains and bed sheets from the medical wing next door. He collapsed next to Cloud quickly as the others crouched by them too.

Genesis grabbed a sheet and cast it over the lion like body. He began rubbing it against the fur roughly, soaking up the Mako as best he could. Angeal and Sephiroth moved to rub down his legs and mane.

“What is it?” Zack asked slightly stunned as he moved to wrap one of the bed sheets over Cloud who was petting at the things muzzle and whispering encouragement to wake up. He casts a hazy look at them all and it’s clear that everything that lay behind them was only half clouds conscious doing. Zack doubts he remembers his own name.

“He is is just a kid.” Cloud slurs somewhat, “and his name is Nanaki”

Zack holds up his hands in defence, “sorry, sorry. It’s just… how did you know he was here?” He leans forward to get a good look at Nanaki’s face.

“Gaia told me.” That pulled them all up short.

“What?” Genesis asked, leaning back to look at Zack’s friend.

“I can’t explain it,” Cloud slumped slightly and Angeal watched Zack hurry to support him. “I heard her in my dreams, when Hojo put me to sleep. She told me how to find him. She showed me his dreams.”

They all stared at him curiously. They were glad he was safe; that he was alive. But hearing the Goddess? What if Hojo had broken him irreversibly.

Cloud slumped further into Zack.

“I’m not- I’m n-not Lyin-“

He passed out.

****

Hm. What to do…?

#ffvii #cloud strife #genesis rhapsodos #crisis core #zack fair #angeal hewley #sephiroth #sephiroth crescent #fic writing #agszc #asgzc #fic idea #kind of #may return to this later #pre full relationship AGSZC #agsz #cloud strife needs a hug #cloud strife needs therapy #enhanced cloud strife

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doimaru · 8 months

Text

Swan Lake (Teaser)

pairing: ballerino!renjun + ballerina!reader genre: ballet?? competitive idk how to describe, u'll see wc: (teaser) 0.8k, (full) undecided but around 5k+ synopsis: Your first professional performance for Dream Opera Ballet is a piece you've prepared your whole life to perform. But, you didn't expect to find love on the stage, especially within an evil sorcerer. note: I'm so messy with everything I'm so so sorry!!! I also did a lot of researched while writing this piece, so hopefully it isn't too horrible to read...

It was all once a dream to you. Ever since you were younger, you immersed yourself into the art of Ballet.

“Hurry, ! We mustn't miss the show… We’re already late.” Your mom hushed into your ear. Once a ballerina herself, she had an extraordinary career before she had succumbed to old age. The theater was full, as always. You felt yourself scanning the area for too long; unfamiliar and peculiar faces were all you could see. “Don’t stare!” She warned before pulling you into a loud room. You saw the gold and red room laid out across your vision. The bright stage was adorned with a golden frame, bright yellow curves and swirls; but sadly, the real show was covered by red curtains. Taking your seat, your mother ushered the stage mannerisms into your ear; reminding you to be respectful. But, you weren’t listening. Instead, you were staring at the curtains slowly opening. As the first act started, you rolled your eyes and stared boredly at the stage, at all the men prancing around the stage with such synchronization and grace. You decided ballet was boring. It wasn’t upbeat and energetic like hip-hop, or snazzy and exciting like salsa. Your mom’s thrilled face meets your weary one, making her frown. “… Not everyone gets to see a performance like this. At least pretend to enjoy it for Mommy, okay?” She nudged you, her face serious. You sighed before nodding, slumping in your seat watching your mom’s face soften as she looked back at the stage. You stared back at the stage per your mom’s request, eyes widening as you saw a flock of thin, pale ballerinas appear in white. You scooted to the edge of your seat when you saw her. The most angelic, elegant ballerina you’ve ever laid eyes on emerges from the center of the stage. Your mom excitedly wraps her arm around you to pull you closer, “That’s Juliette Ya Zuo, amazing isn’t she?” She whispered into your ear, making you nod over and over. She was even more than amazing, you thought.

Since then, your lifelong love for Juliette Ya Zuo began. You became obsessed with how she performed, how she moved. You watched her every performance, hours of studying how she is so captivating, how to be like her. She never fails to overshadow her co-stars, what would you expect from a world-class ballerina like her? Not only was she a ballerina, but an entertainer, a performer. She lived on the cover of sports magazines and at the top of dancing awards. You want to be a ballerina too, not just a ballerina, but someone who could potentially be the next Juliette Ya Zuo. After her extraordinary performance of Swan Lake, your mom brought you to the Stage Door. “Why are so many people here, mom?” You asked her while she smiled gently. She pointed at the door as soon as it opened wide, a crew of ballerinas and ballerini exiting the stage. Fans stormed near them, holding out their programs as your mom handed hers. “Can you get an autograph from Juliette Ya Zuo for me, baby?” Your mom turns your body towards the strawberry blonde woman before pushing you forward. Slowly, you walked cautiously toward her. Up close, she was even more beautiful than you thought. You felt your heart lurch as she glanced at your childish figure, sending you a sweet smile before finishing up her conversation with a brunette teenager. She kneeled down as you sheepishly handed her your program. “Did you like the show, printsessa?” She asked, her euphonious voice tickling your ears. You nodded as she signed the program you were previously holding, and you suddenly felt the urge to tell her what you were thinking. “I want to be like you when I’m older, a good ballerina! I want to perform like you too.” You said, voice timid as she chuckled lightly. “It’s not easy to be a ballerina… But you have to persevere, only so many people can succeed.” She told you, her blue eyes softening. She gently held your hand as she spoke to you, “Become comfortable with critique, not everyone is going to be nice to you.” You listened to her carefully, smiling with acknowledgement. She looked around before leaning closer to you, whispering, “I hope to see you perform one day.”

You look at the program everyday, caressing her signature and message as you reread it again and again. The protective wrap on the program wrinkled under your touch as you reminded yourself to buy a new cover soon. Tucking it away in your tote, you lean your head against the railing of the train. The cool metal of the rail makes you forget about the pain you felt in your toes, before you snap back to reality from the ring of your phone.

Mina Coming to practice yet? Announcement of Audition Results for Dream Opera Theatre today! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

Your eyes bulged as soon as you saw her text, you forgot.

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