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misctf · 6 months ago

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Trouble at the Bachelor Party

“Dude! This is sick!”

“Bro, you’re telling me.” Liam replied, as him and his two friends explored the penthouse.

It was fully decked out. A massive flatscreen in the living room, a fully stocked bar, a beautiful view of the beach. It was everything Liam could’ve wanted. Initially, when his soon to be father-in-law offered his penthouse for the bachelor party, Liam was shocked. Mr. Reynolds often used phrases like “irresponsible”, “waste of time”, and “not good enough for my daughter” when talking about Liam. And he wasn’t afraid to let Liam know too.

“Dude! There’s a flatscreen in each bedroom too!” Chris shouted from down the hall, “Fuck, you were right. This guy’s loaded!”

It was true. Liam was marrying the heiress of a massive tech company. And Mr. Reynonds was certainly loaded. But despite his reassurances that he loved Susie, not their money, the older man viewed him suspiciously. Liam came from a pretty humble background and the world of upper class living wasn’t something he was used to. But perhaps letting them use his penthouse was Mr. Reynolds’s way of showing acceptance.

“Okay boys.” Liam said, “We have a few days here. Let’s make ‘em count.” He tossed Jeremy and Chris each a beer. After a quick toast to what was going to be the most incredible bachelor party on Earth, they downed their beers.

________________

“Lookin’ good.” Liam chuckled as he inspected himself in the mirror, “Can’t believe you’re actually getting hitched.” He flexed his bicep, “Sorry ladies, I’m off the market. Oof, I’ll have to practice that line a bit.” He grinned.

Leaving the bathroom, he found Jeremy sipping a beer on the couch. He was shirtless, wearing a pair of blue swim trunks. His dark brown hair was well styled, and his face clean shaven. He had that boy-next- door look that caused the ladies to swoon.

“Yo Jeremy, what’s up?”

“Not much, just texting Sarah.” He replied, “I forgot to let her know I got here safe and she’s pissed.”

“Oh shit dude.” Liam patted his friend on the back, “I feel for you.” Sarah could be scary when she was angry, but otherwise she was a solid 10. Liam looked forward to the day Jeremy proposed.

“All good.” Jeremy sighed, “Where the fuck is Chris?” Liam shrugged, “He kept me up all fucking night. Fucker must’ve been horny. I’ve never heard anyone moan so loud in my life.”

“Not even Sarah?” Jeremy didn’t seem amused.

“Seriously, we need to get him a girlfriend or something.”

Liam chuckled, “I guess I slept through it.”

“Lucky you.” The door to Chris's room suddenly opened and both men turned.

“Hey boys, sorry to keep you waiting!” The sing songy voice threw them both off, and Liam’s jaw dropped when he saw Chris. His muscles were proudly on display as always. But it was the tight speedo showing off his impressive bulge that shocked him, “Oh, is something wrong?” His voice carried a breathy sultriness, which was unusual for their bro.

“Dude, I’m not one to judge, but don’t you think that’s a bit risqué?” Jeremy asked, raising an eyebrow, “What would Jesus say?” It was well known Chris was religious. In fact, Liam and Chris had met at their college’s church.

Chris shrugged and ran a hand through his curly light brown hair, “Oh this? You like?” He grinned and did a quick pose, “Come on boys, we’re burning daylight!” He said, sauntering towards the door.

________________

The walk to the beach was uncomfortable. Chris walked ahead of his two buddies at an unusually fast pace, his firm ass jiggling with each step. Liam didn’t even know where to begin. What the fuck had gotten into Chris? Usually they’d have to drag him to parties and give him pep talks to boost his confidence. But now? He was certainly turning heads.

“Wait, guys! Did you see that?” Chris asked, turning to his friends and waving excitedly, “That guy over there was totally checking me out!”

“Um, so what?” Jeremy asked, “Why do you care?”

“Do you think I should go after him? He was totally cute. And that ass- just wow.” Liam and Jeremy’s eyes widened, “What?”

“Are you gay?” Liam asked bluntly.

Chris placed a hand to his chin and shrugged, “Like totally! Since like forever probably.”

“Makes sense.” Jeremy said, “Repressed religious guys. It’s a thing.” But Liam was still having a somewhat hard time believing it. Was all their prior bro talk really a lie?

“Oh! He’s getting away!” Chris whined, “I’ll catch up with you later!” He blew them each a kiss and briskly walked over to the man from earlier, leaving Liam shook.

________________

Hours went by without hearing from Chris, and Liam’s mood tanked. Jeremy tried to cheer him up back at the penthouse. Beers and the big game on a flatscreen. Should’ve been perfect. But it wasn’t. Liam knew that Chris being gay shouldn’t matter. Good for him, right?

“Oh my god, that was incredible.” Chris said, gasping as he entered the penthouse, “How are my two besties doing?”

“Would’ve liked you around.” Liam replied, “It’s my bachelor party after all.”

Chris dramatically placed a hand to his sweaty chest, “Sue me for having fun!” His voice cracked and he headed towards his room, “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my room.”

Liam didn’t reply. Sure, Chris is gay. Fine. But acting like a stereotypically fruity drama queen? That didn’t make sense to him. He turned to Jeremy.

“Look, its late and I’m tired. The game sucks anyway.” He said, “I’m off to bed.”

“Same bro. Gotta be up early for our tee time anyway.”

They went to their respective bedrooms. Once there, Jeremy sighed. He hated seeing his friend like this, but what could he do? Talk to Chris maybe? He'd try to salvage this party. But when he finally got comfortable in bed, the TV suddenly turned on. He was greeted by static.

“Weird.” He mumbled. He tried to turn it off with the remote, but failed. Sighing, he got out of bed to turn it off. But as he got closer, he could hear a voice. It was soft, but forceful.

“You are a gay slut. You like to fuck men.”

Jeremy raised an eyebrow, “What the fuck?” He whispered. But the voice only got louder.

“You are a gay slut. Your dick only gets hard for men.” Jeremy felt woozy as the voice reverberated in his head.

“No, I’m straight... I like...” He moaned loudly as the voice drowned out his thoughts. At this point, the screen was flashing various scenes of gay porn and Jeremy’s dick started to swell, “No... fuck...” He breathed out, “I-I... ughhh.” He tried to imagine tits and his nights with Sarah. But these thoughts were instead swapped out with images of juicy, jiggling bubble butts and twerking men.

“You are a dominant top. You only fuck men.”

“I-I’m a gay slut?” Jeremy questioned, “I only like to fuck men?” That didn't sound right. Right? He never...

"You are a dominant top. Twinks are lucky to ride your dick."

His eyes became half lidded and vacant as the words carved his new reality.

“I’m a dominant top. Twinks are lucky to ride this cock." He said confidently, "I am a gay slut.”

Soon, the room filled with his pleasure-filled moans, his new reality taking hold over him.

________________

When Liam entered the living room the next morning, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Jeremy was aggressively caressing Chris’s face, as the two made out on the couch with their erect dicks on full display.

“What the fuck?” Liam gasped as the two men turned towards him.

“Oh Liam! Good morning!” Chris sang, ending his kiss with Jeremy.

“Fuck, just who we were waiting for.” Jeremy commented in a lower, more gravelly voice, “We have something for you.”

“No, this is fucked. What the fuck?” Liam fumed, “What about Sarah? What were you thinking?”

Jeremy shrugged, “I only like fucking men.”

Liam shook his head, “No way, fuck that.” He replied, taking a step back.

“Oh goodness, you’re upset!” Chris whined, “No Liam baby, its okay. Here, watch this.”

Before Liam could say anything, Chris turned on the TV. Static filled his field of vision. But then he heard it. Faint at first, but present nonetheless.

“You are a gay slut.” It said, and Liam grabbed his head.

“What the fuck?” He cursed, stumbling slightly.

The voice was echoing from within his head. Desperately, he moved towards the TV, wanting to shut it off. But Jeremy grabbed his arm firmly and forced him to sit between them. Liam tried to fight back, to get away from his two friends, but he felt so disoriented. The voice continued.

“You are a gay slut. You like taking cock.” It said.

Liam yelped as a needle entered his skin. He looked down to see Chris dump the contents of a syringe into his arm.

“Wh-what was that?” Liam slurred.

“Don’t worry, cutie. Just listen to the voice.” He giggled.

Liam groaned as the voice got louder and louder, “You are a gay slut. A slutty bottom. You love taking cock.”

Liam looked down and watched as his body hair started to disappear. Gone was his light dusting of chest and belly hairs, leaving him smooth. At the same time, the scruff framing his face vanished. He looked over to Jeremy, who smirked at this new development.

“Oh look at that! It’s totally working!” Chris giggled.

“No shit. Reynolds must’ve given us the good stuff.” Jeremy remarked, slowly massaging his cock.

“The good stuff?” Liam slurred, his voice cracking, “Like, what are you talking about?”

“Good because I was getting bored.” Chris sighed, “I mean, Jeremy baby, you’re an expert kisser, but like, I need a hole.” Jeremy nodded in agreement.

“A hole?” Liam whispered.

He let out a pained moan as his body temperature suddenly spiked. Sweat poured from him as his musculature dwindled away. His hard earned muscles atrophied before his terrified eyes. His bulging biceps and triceps became thin and lean, while his juicy pecs rapidly deflated. In a matter of minutes, years of workouts and optimal dieting were undone, leaving Liam slim and fragile.

“Wow, he’s so light now.” Jeremy chuckled as he man-handled his friend onto his lap. Liam yelped at the sensation of Jeremy’s erect cock grinding against his hole.

“Oh and he’s gotten shorter too! What a cutie.” Chris cooed.

“Ah, ass is still bony though.” Jeremy commented, giving it a firm squeeze.

But Liam barely registered any of this. Instead, his thoughts were filled with the words echoing from the TV. His eyes became half-lidded at this point and his resistance was fading.

“You’re just a bottom, a hole to be used by other men. You are a gay slut.” The words continued, “You like being used by other men. Your only pleasure is from getting fucked.”

“I-I’m straight... I like... I like tits.” He knew his voice sounds more feminine somehow and he cringed, “I’m a straight man.” Jeremy and Chris smirked, “I-I...” images of men getting fucked in all kinds of positions flashed on the TV, “Ohhhh I... I... I’m a...” Liam’s handsome face lost its masculine edge and his hair became lighter in color. At the same time, his cock started to shrink. Inch after inch lost as it retracted back, “Noooooo.... not my cock...” He moaned, tears now stinging at his eyes. His manhood, his masculinity. It was being stolen from him. And he was unable to stop it.

“Your only pleasure comes from your ass.”

Liam moaned again and this time his ass started to fill with jiggly fat. He could feel the extra padding build upon itself, his slim cheeks turning into mounds of soft flesh. And as Jeremy squeezed his ass again, pleasure filled his slim frame.

“Much better.” Jeremy remarked, his fingers massaging Liam’s hole, “Fuck, this is gonna feel so good.”

“Mhmm.” Chris replied, grabbing his own fistful of Liam’s juicy ass.

“Ohhhhhhhh yesssssss.” Liam slurred.

“So, what are you?” Jeremy asked.

“I-I’m...” Part of him didn’t want to say it. Didn’t want to acknowledge it. But as his lips plumped up into gorgeous cock suckers, and Jeremy’s teasing fingers penetrated him deeper, Liam was drowning in too much pleasure to care, “I...I...” The voice was so loud. It egged him on, beckoned him to admit his new truth. He wanted- no needed- to be like the men on the screen. To be fucked and used by other men. Who was he kidding? He knew what he was, “I’m like a total gay slut! I love cock.” He turned his head to look at Jeremy, then Chris, “Please daddies, use me! I need your cocks!” He begged.

And his new lovers were happy to oblige.

________________

In the afterglow of sex, the three men sat panting heavily on the couch. Liam was curled up between his two lovers, still rubbing their dicks. Despite draining them each multiple times over, he needed more. But his horny thoughts were interrupted by a video call. He grabbed his phone and smiled.

“Hey Mr. Reynolds!” Liam slurred, “Like, we love your penthouse.”

Mr. Reynolds grinned, “I can tell.” His eyes sparkled with satisfaction, “Look at you Liam. My god. You turned out better than expected. The boys at the lab earned their salaries with this one.” Liam nodded along, not really understanding the implication, “How do you feel?”

“Like a total gay slut.” He grinned, “And I love it, like so much, Mr. Reynolds.”

“Well I’m glad to hear.” he chuckled, “And are your friends treating you well?” Liam adjusted the phone so the older man could see his two lovers, who were both fast asleep, “Well looks like you have two very satisfied customers.”

Liam grinned, “Like totally.” A sense of satisfaction filling him, “Oh! Like, can you let Susie know the wedding is off? I’m like, so sorry.”

“Of course, it would be my pleasure. She’ll understand.” Mr. Reynolds replied- mission accomplished, “Now, get back to your party. Enjoy the penthouse for as long as you want.”

Liam’s eyes lit up, “OMG thank you!” The call ended, “Did you hear that?” Liam asked, his two lovers stirring awake.

And so their party continued- and it would for days. Their lives forever changed, and them none the wiser to it. But if their pleasure filled moans were anything to judge by, they certainly weren’t complaining.

#male tf #male transformation #mental change #straight to gay #personality tf #twink tf #gay hypnosis

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motorsportbarbie13 · 3 months ago

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Hiiiii couldn’t help but see you do requests, could you do something where after a hard race reader placed on the podium but felt sick and Max catches her when she collapsed after getting out of the car? Maybe with the words "I can't... my legs... everything's tingling..." and him being super worried. Basically a little angsty with a fluffy end where he’s checking on her, can be established relationship or not.

OH ANON. this was so fun.

Enjoy!

Heatstroke In which, as it turns out, Max wasn't just 'Maxplaining' the difficulty of Singapore to you after all

Pairing: Max Verstappen X FerarriDriver!Reader Warnings: fainting, getting sick/weak, max being a knight in shining armor. Word count: 2.2k Masterlist

Max tried to warn you. Lando tried to warn you. Checo and Lewis had tried to warn you. Hell, the entire fucking grid had tried to warn you that Singapore was a different beast. You had thought they were just coddling you and being over dramatic, as the boys tended to be with you. It was a hazard of being the only woman on the grid, which frankly, drove you bat shit crazy because you had earned your way into the red Ferrari seat next to Charles on your own, thank you very much. You didn’t need to be coddled and you didn’t need to be warned off anything.

But they were right.

Singapore was a different beast.

The heat during the day was oppressive but at night? There wasn’t any relief once the intense sun went down either. You were from Michigan though, that midwestern state being famous for its hot and sticky summers so you had thought you’d been prepared.

As you claimed into your sleek red car, lining up P3 behind Max and Lando though you knew you were in trouble before the green flag waved. The thing about sweating in the humidity like this is that there’s no where for the moisture on your skin to go, the air already too heavy so that slick sweat sticks to you, making you even hotter than before.

“Fuck, this is going to be brutal.” You mumble, hoping that the braid you tied your hair in would stay for the entirety of the race. Suddenly, shaving your hair into a pixie cut like Fred had been suggesting (mostly jokingly) for weeks seemed like a good idea.

The formation lap is fine.

The first ten laps are fine, if not a little squirrely thanks to your car being wildly loose.

The first fifteen laps are fine, if not a bit hot.

But on lap 23? All hell breaks loose.

First, your hydration system fails and you’re completely unable to get any water through the tiny straw that you usually flip into your mouth on the straightaway, just like Danny taught you. You’re sweating up a storm with no way to replenish those valuable electrolytes.

Then, you’re so busy focusing on the fact that you’d give your first born child for a sip of water you nearly slam into the same exact wall that took George out on the last lap of last year’s race. You yank the steering wheel around so hard, you feel something in your wrist pop. The searing pain causes you to over correct and you nearly drive right into your own fucking teammate.

“Fuck. Tell Charlie I’m sorry.” You groan over the radio, telling your engineer to pass on the message to Charles.

“Focus on your race.” Your engineer tells you, voice obviously strained just as yours is. “Charles is fine.”

Well, I sure as fuck am not fine. You think as you fight the car down towards the starting line.

On lap 45, you’re granted a reprieve when a Sauber goes into the wall, bringing out a yellow flag. The leaders all duck into the pits, including yourself. There’s nothing anyone can do about your water situation and at this point, your instincts have kicked it.

Max was right and you knew it. Singapore was hell. He had tried to tell you last night, as you had been snuggled up in bed with him, a ritual that you both had become dependent on this season. It seemed cliche, you falling for one of your rivals. You hated it but there was no denying that there was a magnetic chemistry between the two of you that had started the moment you had met last year while you were still driving in F2.

You had resisted his charm for a while but things had taken a turn the night it was announced you’d be driving for Ferrari alongside Charles. Several of the drivers that lived in Monaco full time insisted on taking you to Jimmy Z’s to celebrate and who were you to say no to a bunch of handsome men paying for your drinks?

The night ended just as you might expect it: Max drunkenly confessing his year-long crush on you and you drunkenly kissing him in a dark alleyway as you waited for your Uber. What had started off as a drunken confession and your reckless response that wasn’t supposed to mean anything had turned into one of the greatest things that has ever happened to you. Max and you? The pair of you were endgame.

But none of that mattered now. Not here, in the raging heat and humidity of Singapore. You knew that Max was going to give you shit for not being better prepared the moment you got out of the car. You knew you were in for an ‘I told you so’ lecture on the plane ride back in the morning. You knew Max was right and you had been stupid to underestimate the power this track had over drivers.

Looking back on your first race in Singapore years later, you don’t quite know how you managed to finish those last laps. Pure determination and stubbornness, Max would insist later on that night. But before you’re able to fully wrap your head around how dangerous of a situation you’d gotten yourself into, the checkered flag is waving and you’ve crossed the finish line in P3, right behind Lando and Max.

Your third podium of the year. If you had been more coherent, you probably would have been elated. But all you could think about as you pulled your car into parc ferme, right behind that little cardboard 3 sign, was the ice bath you knew was waiting for you somewhere in the paddock.

Your red racing suit is soaked through and through, you can feel it before you even get out of the car. It takes a mammoth effort to pull the steering wheel out of it’s dock and for a moment, you worry you’re so weak you can’t even do that. In front of you, you see Lando pop out of the car in the P1 spot, elated to have won with a healthy margin of over 20 seconds for the second time that season.

Max is out of the car too, albeit a bit slower than Lando. There’s a distant buzzing in your ear that sounds eerily like your engineer’s voice asking if you’re okay. But you’re completely unable to focus on anything beyond the tingling sensation in your legs. This wasn’t something you’d ever felt inside a race car in all your years of driving. Everything stung, like a million little fire ants were making a meal out of your flesh. It took every ounce of strength, of which you didn’t have much, to hoist yourself up out of the car.

Your head swims the moment you stand up straight, and you feel your legs collapse under you. Somewhere off in the distance, you hear Max calling your name but you can’t look up, your helmet suddenly feeling like it weighs 300 pounds.

Crouching in your car, you desperately try to pull yourself together before anyone notices you’re struggling. You didn’t want to give the media the satisfaction of pulling another ‘look, another woman who thinks she can hang with the rest of the F1 drivers.’ Like they’ve been attempting to do all season.

Your eyes are closed but you still hear the faint call of Max’s voice somewhere off in the distance. The entire world is reduced down to a singular pin prick of light while you fight to stay conscious, the heat and humidity wrapping their ugly little fingers tightly around your throat.

Just as you’re about to surrender to the warm quiet of the darkness that seems to be calling out to you, a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, hauling you out of the car like you weigh less than a bag of potatoes. You go limp in the arms of whoever has come to your rescue, collapsing under the strain of what you just put your body though.

“Baby, please. Look at me.”

Somehow, your helmet has been removed and you find yourself blinking up at Max.

When did he get here? You wonder idly, not realizing it was him that pulled you out of the car.

Max had gone practically feral when GP told him that you’d gone nearly 3/4 of the race without water. He knew how brutal this race was, and the humidity was unusually high tonight. He had gotten out of the car fairly quickly but had panicked when he saw your helmet tipped forward, resting on the halo device and you not moving.

You lift your head, still wondering where your helmet was and instantly found yourself staring straight into the baby blue eyes of your boyfriend. “Maxie?” You croak, throat feeling like you just dined on a three course meal of sand and gravel.

“Hey…” He coos, bringing you closer to his chest. “There’s my girl. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” He rubs soothing circles over your back, not caring that the press is having a field day with this.

“I can’t…” You stutter, struggling to make the words in your head sound coherent when your mouth tries to form them. “My legs…everything is tingling.”

If you had been a bit more coherent, you would’ve seen the look of absolute panic cross Max’s face. He frantically looks around as he lifts you into his arms, one arm under your knees, the other cradling your back against his chest. He knew you were going to absolutely murder him when you come around and see the pictures. You hated being coddled and hated showing affection on the grid even more. You and Max weren’t really hiding the fact that you were together, most fans knew and it was common knowledge around the paddock but the causal fan might be surprised to find out the lore between the two of you. So this outright show of concern, affection, and panic over the state of you that Max was showing right now? It was absolutely not a common occurrence

“Interviews are going to have to wait.” Max barks at Jensen, this weeks post-race presenter. “She needs medical attention.”

Jensen simply nods, allowing you to pass.

Fred and Charles intercept you half way to the tent, insisting that getting you in the ice baths will be the thing to help you the most. Max, nearly delirious with worry because while your eyes were open and you were somewhat alert, follows their instructions and takes you back behind the garage area where the ice baths had been set up.

It’s all you can do to stand upright as Max unzips your race suit. It’s so heavy with your sweat that it practically peels off of you with no effort, gravity doing the work for Max. And then your left in just your fireproofs. If you hadn’t been in the middle of the paddock with thousands of people and cameras around, Max would have stripped you down to just your underwear, but that wasn’t an option.

WIth Max and Charles’ help, you’re able to hoist yourself into the waiting ice bath. The shock of the frigid water jolts some awareness back into you the moment your body is submerged in the glacial water.

“Holy fuck.” You grit out, eyes closing in pain.

“I know…I know, schatje. But it’ll get you feeling better so much quicker than anything else.

You nod, still not fully aware of how you got here but thankful for Max’s steadying presence beside you. He’s crouched down so he’s eye level with you as you ball yourself up to get as much heated skin under the cold water and the worry etched all over his face is enough to steal your breath.

“Max. Holy fuck. That was…you weren’t just Maxsplaining to me last night, were you?”

A chuckle finds its way out of his lips, despite the state of panic Max is in. “No, I was not just ‘Maxsplaining’ anything last night, silly girl.”

“Shut up.”

“You’ve got your fire back, I see. I think you’ll live.” Max leans in to press a kiss to the crown of your head before dropping another kiss on your temple, then your cheek, and finally his lips find their home on yours. Right where they belong. It’s not a lingering kiss, or a passionate one. No. This kiss is filled with gratitude and relief and sheer dumb realization of how much this man loves you.

Your eyes are open more now, a few minutes in the ice bath doing your heat stroke symptoms good. It takes you a few moments to really grasp the severity of what just happened. How close you came to passing out mid-race. How it was Max that got you out of that car and was at your side before anyone else.

All around you, the paddock is bustling to life. The scene Max created by hauling you over to Ferrari’s garages has somewhat dissipated. Only a few onlookers are stopped still, but your team remains solidly around you, faces a mask of concern. But the only person you see is Max.

“Thank you, baby.” You murmur when he leans in for another kiss.

“Anything for you, schatje.” He rasps, emotion clawing at his throat. “Anything.”

#max verstappen #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #MY FIRST REQUEST EVER omg #anon ask #one shot #angsty fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader

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megalomaniacz · 2 months ago

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SWEET CHERRY 🍒

camgirl!reader x toxic actually loserish really pathetic!vi

diva mode activated halfway through writing this…guys idk i’m gay okay and if it isn’t good i never wrote it…okay? erm nsfw!! listened to tate mcrae and charli while writing this if that means anything to u. also, my birthday is tomorrow!! might drunkenly pump out a toxic!cait one shot OMG WHO SAIDDDD THAT

PART ONE: $EX. LIE$. UGLY. TRUTH.

the time on her computer screen read 11:07 pm. you were two minutes behind schedule. every regular viewer, including vi, was on the edge of their seat. licking at chapped lips and rubbing lotiony hands together. eyes wide with wonder, refreshing the site every 10 seconds until you popped onto screen.

you were wearing your signature cherry red lingerie, flawless makeup, soft pop music playing in the back. nails sharp and adorned with cherries. you held a sucker that read eat me in your hand, slowly unwrapping it for the camera. “hi cherries, guess what flavor this is.”

vi was foaming at the fucking mouth, adjusting the computer in her lap. eyes glued to the screen while she bit her lip and held onto your every word.

you moved closer to the screen. “grape? chat what do you mean? cmon guess and you get a prizeeee.”

the way you spoke, singing your words. ending the sentence in a suggestive tone. your sultry manner and bedroom eyes. everything was driving vi up a goddamn wall. you were all that and bag of fucking chips. she couldn’t stop thinking about you since she found a video of you fucking yourself with a dildo on an adult site. lezgetbusy or something fucking stupid. scrolled through the comments (5,000) until someone alluded to the fact that you cammed.

then she followed your profile and immediately paid your $50 messaging fee.

in all honesty, she was talking to herself in there half the time. the rare moments in which you did respond gave her a euphoria she couldn’t contain. she wanted to fuck you. no, she needed to fuck you. with her fingers, her tongue, her strap, and whatever the hell else will fit up there. it was driving her crazy.

grandSurpass: grape lol

justmyego: strawberry?

Several_means: lick it again please :(

she rolled her eyes at the screen. “idiotic men, it’s fucking cherry.” she begins to tap in the chat. she presses send, and when she sees you reading it? mouthing her comment? she nearly chokes, feeling her face flush.

“very good, vi? violet22. very good.”

her hands were stuffed into her pants now, legs spread while she toys with herself. you said her name. you said her fucking name! she throws her head back, thinking about how easily it fell off your tongue.

“since you guessed right, you get, drumroll pleaseeee.”

she was close now. pool of wetness filling her boxers. legs shaking, mouth wide open. please keep talking, please keep talking…please…

“a chance to chat with me personally! this stream, and others, will be a bit shorter as i’ve decided i’ll be doing one on one chats with some lucky cherries. congratulations vio-“

she slams her computer shut, takes her hand out of her pants, and jumps off her bed. stumbles into her bathroom, washes her hands and splashes water on her face, then stumbles back to her room. reopens her computer, runs a hand down her face, types in the website url again. logs in. clicks watch stream. and checks under her ass for shit because she swears she just shat herself. just now.

“oh, vi is back. okay guys.” you swish the lollipop around in your mouth a bit before continuing to speak. “i’m going to send you a link in private message, violet22. see you soon!” a toothy and cheery smile spread across your sweet face.

the second the link shows up in her inbox, she clicks it. hits the $200hr pay wall. fumbles in her pockets for her wallet, fuck she left it in the bathroom okay she’s got it dammit she’s shaking. can barely put the card numbers in. she’s making you wait she’s making you wait fuck.

after payment is secured, you in all your sweet glory, pop up on her screen. you’re sat on your bed, sucker hanging from your lips, fiddling with your freshly manicured nails. you hear the ding, realized she’s joined, and lay on your belly. tits squeezing together on the bed.

“hi! violet22? is that you? i can’t see you, turn your camera on!”

oh fucking fuck the fuck fuck fuckity FUCK FUCK. she has no time to fix her face up for you, or change out of her 2 day old t shirt. atleast you can’t smell her through the screen. she clicks on the small camera icon in left corner of the screen, and puts on an awkward smile.

“hi. there you are.” you smile, kicking your feet.

“hi sweet cherry. fuck. i’ve come to your videos so much nothing gets me so worked up. fuck. sorry.”

you giggle a bit and her face visibly becomes 3 shades redder. looks like she’s got some sort of filter on.

“it’s okay. thank you so much, your support means the world to me. do you have any personal requests while you’ve got me? clocks counting down.” you pucker your lips.

the time on the right corner of the screen is counting down 4:56…4:55…

vi’s eyes widen, and she gulps. finding it hard to think of anything to say. she was in complete shock. you’re looking at her. talking to her. you’re talking to her,,,oh fuck you’re talking to her.

“i-i’m- hmmm.” she stutters, picking at a hangnail. the clocks on 4:01 now and her heart seems to damn near be beating out of her chest.

“how about we play a quick game, okay? and next time, maybe you’ll have something thought of. maybe we’ll have more time…” your smile melts her heart. next time? GEE WILLIKERS!!! someone check this bitches pulse.

“okay.” she nods, barely present. still unsure if this is some sort of orgasm induced illusion.

“if you can guess the word i’m thinking of, i’ll take an extra special picture just for you. kay?”

you wink and she feels like the wind has been knocked out of her. she gives you a small nod, and it makes you laugh. she’s so cute and pathetic.

3:48…3:47

“okay. it’s a type of flower.” you lick your sugar ridden lips, putting the entire sucker in your mouth then pulling it out slowly.

vi’s about to piss herself. or is that come? man these boxers are gonna need a deep clean.

“is it a rose? a tulip?”

you shake your head, taunting smirk on your face. “try again, cutie.”

oh she’s so gonna ride a pillow with your picture on it tonight. might even get the picture all wet with her slick, imagine her sweet pussy on your perfectly plump lips. wait what was the question?

“ummm lillies? dandelions? sunflowers?”

you shake your head, sticking your tongue out and directly swiping it over the fading words. eat me do you know how bad she wants to?

“hint, please?” she looks at you with sad eyes. feels like she’s being edged or something. pussy growing wetter by the minute FUCK 2:49…2:48

“cmon, you’re smart. use that big brain of yours.” you follow with a taunting laugh. she’s too fucking horny for this, and you look so good. she wonders how you feel. your skin. bet it’s warm and soft. bet you’d grip the sheets when nipped at your thighs. back arching-

“daises? did i say that already?”

you shake your head and look over at the small timer taking a bite out of the sucker, now it reads at me.

“lavender is a flower? right?”

you sit up on the bed, and she watches the way you widen your thighs. pretty little red bow right above your pussy. you arch your back, ass in the air, chewing on the candy. “close.”

the money she’d spend to have one night with you. ass up face buried in your silky red sheets. cock buried so deep in your pussy it’s kissing your stomach. WHAT WAS THE QUESTION AGAIN?

“aww your time is up.” you pout. there’s five seconds. vi’s drooling, all over herself. like actually. she wipes her mouth, slow blinking, taking mental pictures.

“the word was violet, silly! see you next stream.”

fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck

#sorry to edge you all #my mouth watered writing this #i’m just gay ok idk leave me alone #vi x reader #toxic!vi #?#vi x you #vi arcane #arcane fanfic #vi smut #bumpin that that that that #TWO HANDS ON ME BABY #when i go to the club i wanna hear those #should i make them meet in pt2 and have vi actually pee herself lmao #piss kink?#violet arcane

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 10 months ago

Text

1.5k / 20 / post-apocalypse au, part 1

...

You're injured but moving as fast as you can with your bow slung over your back. Soap is close behind you, giving chase, shouting your name as he does. Doesn't he learn? Doesn't he know you'll pull your bow on him again if he corners you?

He must know, but he's too stubborn to give up the chase. You don’t understand it.

He pushes on, just as graceful and twice as effective as you. You slip through the thick trees and their branches trailing whips of brambles. He shoves past them. You’re injured. He’s not. He's gaining, boots heavy in the soil.

"Watch yourself--!"

Your boot lands on leaf litter that falls out from under you--a pit trap. You’re moving barely fast enough for your momentum to save you from falling in. Your waist hits the edge of the pit. You brace yourself by your elbows, fingers digging into the dirt. The soft underside of your arms drag against something sharp underneath.

Soap grabs you by your coat and pulls you up out of the trap and to your feet before you can scramble out yourself. You're neither surprised nor mollified by his careful handling of you.

"Let me go!"

"Na. You're hurt. Stay still."

"Soap, I swear to God--"

"Shut up. I'm taking a look."

He holds your arm firmly with one large hand and, with the other, pulls your sleeve away from the bleeding gash. You grab his wrist with a pained curse. Whatever caught your arms—the rough wood and metal at the trap's edge—tore you bloody. Soap glares at the gash and then at you. He's close.

You could reach for your bow or for the dagger on your hip. But you know for a fact he's armed. With guns. A sniper rifle on his back and two sidearms at his belt. He knows how to use them, too. If you fight, he wins. But you know better than to back down quickly. The world is crueler than it used to be ever since things went to shit. People who show weakness don’t survive.

"Why are you following me?" you growl, your grip on his wrist tightening.

His grip on you loosens in turn when you speak. "You know why. I'm lookin' out for ya."

"I didn't ask for your help."

"Aye, but you still needed it."

"You're not a soldier anymore, Soap," you retort, trying to pull your wrist away. "It's every person for themselves. Stop following me."

"That's no way to live. The world may be a shithole, but there are still folk around who'll lend you a hand even though they don't need to. Soldier or no'."

You can't get out of his grip when he's determined to keep you there, and he is. As much as you'd like to give him a matching wound for being so goddamn stubborn, the rational part of your brain--the part that makes sure you survive--knows better than to expend energy struggling when it's not strictly necessary.

"Nobody lends a hand unless they want something in return," you mutter, glaring down at your wound as he bandages it. "Even if they're pretending otherwise."

He knows you speak from experience. You're a woman, and that means you're nothing but a resource to the worst of whoever’s left. He can't blame you for being guarded. Then again, you wouldn't be making such heated statements to his face if you really thought he intended to hurt you. You're just... defensive. Hiding under all that anger. That's what he tells himself. So he ignores your grumbled protests.

"That's how you'd look at it," he finally replies as he finishes dressing the wound. "Seein' as you've not met the right people. But some of us don't expect anything back."

"You don't expect it because you think you're better than asking. But you still want it."

"Might be so." His voice is soft, gravelly, but you can hear the steel in it. "But am not asking, now am I? So stop your fussin'. You're safe. Nae need to worry." He releases your bandaged arm.

"You run your hand along the wrapping, checking it. "Fine. But I'm... I'm not coming back with you."

"Can't promise you'll be safe out there. Where do ye plan to go?"

"I don't know. Wouldn't tell you if I did."

"Aye." He rubs his jaw, examining you with flint in his blue eyes. Pressing you for an answer would be pointless. Not that you seem to be lying—but you're not telling the whole truth. The short history you share with him is just enough that he can tell. But he also knows trying to change your mind would be pointless. If you won't listen, he'd have better luck bashing his head against one of these huge, mutated oaks.

"Am nae stoppin' ya. But these woods are full of treacherous paths. If ye run into trouble—when ye run into trouble--my boys and I, we know these woods well enough to dust you off and send you in the right direction. Cannae promise to find you before somethin’ else does, though."

You're fairly sure he's not lying. His boys, as he calls them—his old squad, you think—they've made their home in these woods. It's perilous living—bears, wolves, muties, and terrain just as hazardous as the wildlife. And still those men are the most dangerous things in here.

The offer is tempting. You consider it for longer than you should, looking down at your bandaged arm again. But then you step back, shaking your head slowly. "No, thanks. I have to get going."

It tears him up inside. You're making the wrong choice. If he lets you walk away, he's letting you walk to your death.

He looks at you for a moment. You can tell he's got something more to say. But he changes his mind, stepping back as well. He pulls something from his belt and holds it out. A handgun, scuffed and black, grip held toward you. You stare at it for a second before looking back up at him. He's serious?

"I'm not gonna take that--"

"You're damn well gonna take it." His voice is low and insistent. "You think I don't know you'll run into trouble out here? Don't be a fool. I have spare. Take it."

Your one rule is don't owe anybody anything. How the fuck are you about to owe this man twice?

Fine. Whatever. It's not like you have to use it. Could just barter it. Not like you’re going to see him again. You take the gun, biting back a retort.

He nods his approval. The steely look in his eyes softens, though he still looks dismayed. "Mind where you point that. And when you pull it. Biters'll hear it for a mile and come running. Survivors, too. The curious ones." He glances at your bandaged arm one more time. Then he adjusts the bag over his shoulder and turns his back, walking away from you. Back to camp. "Am expectin' you to keep yourself alive with that," he growls. "Or else it's a lot of good time and material I wasted on ya."

"I didn't ask you to waste your breath," you retort, practically snarling at his retreating back in your irritation. You watch him go until he's disappeared into the trees. You need to make sure he doesn't plan on doubling back and following you.

Then you set off on your own. You take a winding path to throw off any trackers. Never can be too cautious. The gun in your pocket is heavy against your thigh, and you try not to think of it as a comforting security.

You came here to get Roach back, and you don’t care how long you have to wander this Godforsaken forest. You’re not leaving without him.

…

Soap feels your eyes on him until you disappear.

He wants to divorce himself from this, but he’s on edge. People who strike out on their own here come to a nasty end. But he’s not going to take away your agency by deciding what's best for you. You were right about him not being a soldier, after all. He doesn’t have the authority to herd you back to his squad’s campsite. Your life is in your own hands.

He just hopes you live to do better than he believes you will.

That night, he sleeps restlessly. Which is why, when he hears a cluster of gunshots in the distance, he wakes up instantly. It's you. In trouble.

The night watch—Gaz tonight—is already there, tossing Soap's gun to him. "You were right," Gaz says.

"Course I was," Soap says with a lopsided grin. "Owe me a ten-piece in the next poker game, aye?"

...

[part 1] / part 2 / part 3

more Soap / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

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cutecatlov3r · 1 year ago

Text

kinktober: stuck in wall~ bachira meguru

synopsis: your roommate finds you stuck in the washer . how could be not stick his needy cock inside of you ?

warnings/tw: aged up! dubcon, praise, erratic behavior, hard pervert, panty stealing, dryhumping, raw sex, piv, free use(?), orgasm(m), porn with a plot, drunk off sex, cervix fucking, and mental issues (?)

character ai bot that I made in honor of this: didn't make one for this ;(

not proofread . check out my other ones too lolz !

i'm reposting it becuase it got taken down aw ! :(

"bachi! where are my panties, can't find them in the washer!" you yell from the laundry room. you've been losing panties everyday, you don't even think you've done a load of your panties or bras since about last week.

"eh? why would I know?" he yelled back from the living room. of course he took them, he didn't care, no shame in it either. he takes them when you put your clothes in the laundry basket, taking some time to sniff your cute panties, wanting to smell your cunt. occasionally licking the inside to see if there's a taste. the way he licks your panties gently, his hand stroking his cock... makes him hard just thinking of it.

you just groaned in defeat. you had no idea he did that, you never suspected him as the culprit either.

"try in the way back of the washer! it could be stuck deep inside!" he suggested, sounding innocent. he was scrolling through his phone in the living room, bored.

you shrug to yourself, reaching into the washer.

…

why the hell was the washer so damn deep? you roll your eyes, making a mental note to buy a new washer. reaching down further, you do see a pair of your panties. one that you haven't seen in awhile. you reach into the wash deeper, having to squeeze in your hips while reaching your arm out. once your hips were in you grabbed the underwear.

you sighed of relief, looking at it, it was one of yours. but they did feel weird, some sort of damp-like crust on it. you shrugged to yourself, not caring because you would wash it either way. there probably isn't a good explanation for it.

little did you know that bachira pumped himself, cumming on your sweet panties earlier. it wasn't his fault, he was just so turned on over the fact you cooked him breakfast when you woke up.

you huffed slightly, ready to get out...

what the...?

your hips were stuck, they weren't squeezing through the small opening at all. you tried your hardest, trying to push out your hips but to no avail. your hips were too big to get out.

"goddamnit..." you mutter to yourself, still trying to force yourself out of the washer.

bachira heard your little huffs and grunts, trying to escape the washer. your hips just weren't budging, you definitely want to buy a new one soon, this one sucked, obviously. you sighed to yourself, heart racing with a small bit of anxiety. how would you get unstuck...?

curiously, bachira walked over to the laundry room, wondering why you'd be making the noises. maybe you were fucking yourself, that's honestly the true reason why he came to check up on you, wanting a glimpse of what you could be doing.

"yo y/n! you ok-?" bachira paused, eyes widening slightly. this was way better than what he expected. "oh! hehe! are you stuck?" he chuckled. the way your ass peeked from your short little shorts made him smirk.

"uh no... of course not..." you mumble.

he giggled. "alright, then i'm gonna head to be-"

"wait!...I actually need help, I'm stuck," you sighed in defeat, shaking your head in the washer.

he hummed slightly, walking over to you, looking at how you couldn't budge your hips. the little voice in his head, what he called his monster, was telling him to fuck the shit out of you. but he took a deep breath, trying not to take advantage of you, his roommate.

"so! what's the problem?" he smiled, bending down face to face with your ass, looking at where you could be stuck.

"my hips won't come loose," you reply, truthfully. you showed him a quick example, trying to wiggle your hips out but once again, failing miserably. "could you uh... help me out?" you ask, swallowing your pride. you hated asking for help, it made you feel bad.

bachira chuckled, nodding. he stood on his knees, hands gripping the skin above your waist. he tried to pull you backwards. it didn't work. he tried again, this time, his clothed cock accidentally rubbing against your shorts. each time he tried to pull you backwards, his pelvis moved forward, cock hitting your ass.

you didn't mind, you just wanted to get out of the stupid washer.

"fuck her..." the voice in his head said. bachira watched as he was slightly thrusting against you when he was trying to pull you out. you didn't even notice that he was slowing down his movements, in thought. "y/n..." he mumbled.

"hm? what? should we call the fire department?" you ask, a bit worried.

without even a warning he pulled down your shorts.

"eh?! bachi! what the-"

"this pussy is so pretty..." he hummed, sitting back down to go face to face with your pussy. you were blushing, not knowing how to feel. you didn't even process what was happening. "aw, these panties are one of my favorites," he brought his thumb up to your clit, rubbing it in rough little circles. you whimpered slightly, "i came right there," he smiled, reminiscing on how he stroked his cock to those same panties, cumming on the inside of them.

"bachi..." you let out a breathless moan. "cut it out...! get away from me," you whined. you didn't want this to ruin things as roommates, if he helped you out, you'd just forget about it.

"no, i don't think i want that, pretty girl," his thumb went under those panties, sliding across your slick and wet cunt. "i don't think you do either, look at you... so wet," he chuckled, admiring the way his thumb moved against your folds. "so pretty,"

to be fair, of course you were wet. your roommate is pretty hot. him also admitting that he strokes himself to your panties also turned you on, just slightly.

"bachi... stop," you moan as his thumb went over your sensitive nub in a slightly pattern.

"wanna pump you full of my cum, y/n. you'd look so beautiful having it seep out from your tight little pussy," he said, unashamed, smiling.

you were speechless, breath hitching at that statement. all of a sudden it felt as if it were getting hotter inside of the washer. maybe it was because you were nervous or maybe it was because you've always wondered what it'd be like to be fucked by your crazy energetic roommate.

he was acting real bold for some reason, it was definitely the voice in his head that kept putting this idea of fucking you there while you were stuck. "awww! i'm already so hard too," he whined, taking out his cock. his dick was pulsing, no precum yet but just about ready to get inside of you. "i'm gonna fuck ya! don't worry, i'll make it feel pretty good too!". he grabbed his cock, stroking it slightly before pressing it against your ass.

"wait!- don't-"

he moved your panties to the side, cock pressing against your entrance. he rubbed his cock against your hole, teasing it. he didn't even put the tip in yet, slapping it slightly, earning little whimpers from the jolts of pleasure you were receiving.

"don't? seriously? look at how your needy hole is just begging for me to fuck you," he grinned, taking away his cock from your entrance. without his dick being there... it felt sort of empty, unsatisfied. "but! if you don't wanna I won't force ya," he was trying to sound nice. but he knew damn well if you didn't want to he'd force you and he probably wouldn't care about whether or not you'd swallow your pride and want to fuck him too.

you sigh slightly, missing the feeling of friction already. "wait... um... actually you can. you can..." you gulp a bit, feeling your face flush with embarrassment inside of the washer. "you can fuck me,"

no hesitation needed when you said those words as he shoved himself inside of you, merciless. you almost cried due to how well he was stretching you out. tears brimmed your eyes. he put both hands on the top of the washer, thrusting his hips. he watched as your ass bounced against his cock, your cunt sucking him tightly. your gummy walls squelching and squeezing down on his length.

"feels so good," he moaned, putting his shirt in between his teeth so he can see everything. he even whimpered like a puppy at the sight. he was not afraid to show his feelings, he didn't like when girls had to sit there and wonder whether their partner was feeling good too, so he loved showing.

"b-bachira!" you repeated, your breath fogging up the washer, making it slightly claustrophobic to be in there.

he rutted his hips deep inside of you, not moving fast, instead moving deep and hard. you could feel him so deeply, it almost hurt.

"you're the best... this pussy is the best," he moaned, thrusting himself more. his fat cock was being squeezed, almost feeling as if he was being milked dry. he has never had pussy this good.

"so good!" you slurred. you were being fucked so dumb that you could feel yourself going cross eyed, drool falling from your mouth. though it was early, his cock seriously was fucking you so good that your toes were curling.

bachira furrowed his brows, shutting his eyes as he slowed down even more, instead to pound you deep from the back.

that's when tears were rolling down your face. with each thrust you let out a cry, he was hitting your cervix. and fuck, all he wanted to do was fuck you so deep that he can get his tip past your cervix to fill up your womb with his warm cum. if he kept it up at this rate, he will gladly slam his dick so deep that it goes past your cervix, but for now, he loved the feeling of hitting it. he felt as if he were being blessed by a goddess.

"n-no more!" you cried, panting heavily. it was all too much, it hurt so bad yet felt so amazing. you could get used to this.

he bit on his shirt more, a sweat drop falling down his face. the way you moaned was like music to his ears. he fucked into you more and more, feeling his balls tighten, his cock twitch, his veins pulse...

"c-cumming! f...fah~ fuck! i'm-"

and that's when he shoved himself as far as he could, staying in that position, head being thrown back as he came. moans and high pitched whines escaped his mouth over and over. his cum filling your womb, shooting in ropes as he moaned.

you cried, legs shaking. the feeling of him filling you up felt so good, giving your cervix some comfort after being fucked over and over.

he panted, keeping himself inside of you until he caught his breath.

slowly, he pulled out, watching as his cum drip from your abused pussy. he grinned, enjoying his view as it dripped onto your thighs and floor.

"so hot..." he bit his lip, hand rubbing around the softness of your ass.

you were too fucked out to say anything in response.

"you cum?" he asked, sweetly as if nothing happened.

you made a small noise that told him you didn't to which he giggled, smacking your ass slightly. "don't worry! i can take care of that,"

#bllk thirst #bllk smut #bllk bachira #meguru bachira x reader #blue lock bachira #bachira blue lock #meguru bachira #bachira meguru #bachira meguru smut #bachira smut #blue lock meguru bachira #meguru bachira smut #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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etherealily · 8 months ago

Text

🄱🄻🄴🅂🅂🄴🄳 // 🇳🇦🇹🇪 🇯🇦🇨🇴🇧🇸.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. SFW, but discretion advised. 🍃.

Part 1 : Whiplash

Part 2 : 9 Lives

Part 4 : Shards

Part 5 : Eighteen

Part 6 : Sin

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Tiny glimpse into his mind because why not?

Desc. : "His hand, so calloused from his pistol softly traces hearts on my face."

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

It's not like Nate even knew you.

You just so happened to be the secret to his success, and maybe, perhaps his new obsession.

No biggie.

I mean, whole of the first week of spring break, he didn't text you, you didn't text him, and it was all great and normal.

Pissed him off to no end, because how the hell did you recover so quickly from having a fucking gun in your throat? But, hey, whatever. Maybe you were just that goddamn weird.

The second - and last - week of spring break was when shit got intense.

Because he thought about you.

He realized he hadn't even fucking seen you around town the entirety of it, and that might have freaked him out, just a little.

He worried, you see? Yes, only about his games, and his college apps, but now, all of them had been tied to you, with a pretty little bow around them.

So obviously, now he worried about you.

So, obviously, he needed to find out just where the hell your lucky ass had gone.

He narrowed it down to two options. Both perfectly reasonable, of course.

One, you just had tons of work and stayed indoors.

Two, you had been kidnapped and murdered by the opposing teams because they'd found out about your miracle-working.

See? Perfectly reasonable.

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

It was a happy surprise to learn that you were basically closer to his house than you'd ever been before, after you'd taken up a job at the local supermarket.

Well, happy for him.

For you, it was more of a you-were-seriously-contemplating-suicide surprise.

"You listen to Elvis Presley?", he asked, dropping his purchase down on the counter. Your eyes never moved to it, and stayed on his.

That was one thing he noticed about you.

You were always observing, as if he were a rabid animal that would strike at any moment. As if he would reveal his sinister intentions to you within enough time for you to react.

"What?"

He nodded at the speakers on the wall around the establishment. "Those connected to your Spotify?"

You didn't want to answer unless you knew whether he was about to compliment or mock you.

"Sir, I think you should leave."

God fucking damn it. Why had he never thought about the fact that you wouldn't - (and couldn't)- call him a motherfucker at your workplace? His joy knew no bounds.

"That's so hot. Say it again."

You'd 100% expected that. It was clear on your face.

"There's other people behind you with more items to check out."

He swiveled his head around for a moment.

Old lady. Sometimes he wished he wasn't raised right.

He sighed, nodding. "I'm next up, though.", he warned sternly, pointing at you as he gestured for her to pass him by.

The old lady patted him on the shoulder and smiled, moving ahead with her purchase of an unholy amount of bread and cheese.

And what's worse?

She had coupons.

Way too many for Nate to stand smiling like a good boy behind her as she dug into her purse and fished out probably decades worth of them.

"Yes, dear, so just run all these."

"Uh, ma'am, I wish I could, but most of these are expired."

Thank god.

"Oh, well, you said most. Let's just sort through them and find the ones that aren't expired."

Would it be homicide to kill her? She didn't really have too long to live, anyway. He couldn't say he hadn't thought about it.

"Uh, okay, yeah, sure."

"This'll just take a minute, sweetie.", she whispered to Nate, pinching his cheek as if that would make time go by faster.

"How about I pay for you, ma'am? If that's alright?"

If he'd been allowed access to your mind, you'd never live it down, because you almost thanked him right then and there.

"Oh, there's no need for that, dear, I can-"

"No, please, I insist. It would be my pleasure."

"What a sweet boy."

Both her and Nate decided to ignore the derisive snort that came out of you as you swiped his card.

"Here you go, ma'am.", you smiled, placing the copious amounts of cheese into the bag, then stuffing the bread in, too. "Anything else?"

"Oh, no, that's it for me. God bless you, dear. Both of you."

Watching her walk out, he began to genuinely wonder if this absurd purchase was all part of some scheme some criminal had put up to steal without your knowledge.

"You hear that? We're blessed, you and me."

"Do you actually have anything to buy?"

"Of course I do. I'm not a creepy stalker.", he hissed, slamming his palm down in front of you. Slowly, he lifted it to reveal a stack of eleven condoms.

Oh, yeah, you were blessed with this fuckass' presence.

You sucked your teeth as your gaze traipsed from the condoms up to his eyes. One of them winked.

"Is that all?"

"Oh, come on, you're not even curious why I have them?"

"Probably for the dozens of bitches you're getting.", you scoffed, ringing it up. "$15.99."

"For eleven individual condoms?!"

You shrugged. "Inflation."

"Oh, they better inflate for the amount of money I'm spending."

He rolled his eyes, mumbling to himself as he pulled out the money from his wallet, instead of his card. "Fucking old lady with her bread and cheese."

"You maxed your card?"

"Yeah. Why do people buy so much shit they're barely ever going to use?"

"Like you with your condoms?"

Ah. Nate could've absolutely lost his shit laughing right there- you did care.

"I'm going to use it all. Trust me."

How many times was he going to use the phrase 'trust me' on you until he realized the meaning had eroded away into nothingness between you two? Probably a dozen more.

"Sure. Thanks for shopping with us. Have a great day."

He pouted, stuffing the packets into his pocket as he raised a brow. "You don't sound like you mean it."

"Nate-"

"And why are you even working here, anyway? Oh, shit, is it 'cause I cost you your internship with your perv boss?"

If he felt bad, the grin on his face wasn't really screaming guilt.

"No, fuckass, this is my friend's store, he just wanted someone to help him out for a couple hours."

"Whoa, wait, what happened to Sir? I liked that better."

That was a lie. He fucking loved it.

"Please, Nate. Stop."

"One condition."

There it was. It no longer seemed like he saw you as anything more than a boredom buster. Sudoku, or a crossword, basically. That was you to him.

"Answer one question, truthfully, and I'll leave this... otherwise empty store right after."

"I'm listening."

God, that's all he fucking wanted to hear, and it was oddly exciting. He could literally say anything, and you wouldn't block him out.

"What would you do if I told you that I have a body in my car right now?"

"What?"

"A body. A dead body. It's in my trunk. Right now. What would you say? What's your next move?"

It's like he expected you not to notice the fact that he was tracing shapes on your arm as he spoke.

"Cops."

At this point, even if he wasn't bluffing, you'd still have reacted so nonchalantly. Because it was all in all tiring to continue to play whatever twisted game he was playing.

"They're not an option. It's either silence or help me. Would you help me hide it?"

"Nate, did you kill someone?"

"No."

"Then why even ask?!"

"It's a hypothetical."

"No, probably not."

He tsked, looking away for a moment. "Wrong answer."

"Well, it's my answer."

He brought his fingers up to your face, and your slight flinch meant absolutely nothing to him. Imaginary hearts now plagued your skin. "Change it."

"My answer? No."

"Please."

"Nate, did you kill someone?", you asked once more, praying for an actual answer this time, be it in the negative or the positive.

He smirked.

"Thanks for the condoms.", he whispered, grinning as he gave your cheek a light pat - that was dangerously bordering on a slap.

Would your trunk be big enough to fit his body? You thought about it the rest of the day.

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

His fingers rapped on his dashboard as he watched his phone, set down on speaker on the dashboard, too. Pick up, pick up, pick up.

"Hello?"

Yes. He'd never been this happy to hear someone's voice, and it kinda freaked him out. Okay, whatever. Not important.

"Y/N."

"Who is this?"

"The guy you broke all the rules with before spring break? Made out with on the bleachers?"

"You need to be more specific."

"You better be kidding."

"Of course I am." He had never felt more relieved to hear your stupid ass laugh. "What do you want? I'm not helping you hide a body."

He debated just asking you where you'd been all this time, why you hadn't shown up to a single party or hangout, but he decided he'd just outright ask the real question he needed answered.

"Which one's your window?"

A pause. "What?"

"The one with red or yellow curtains?"

"Nate."

"Red or yellow, babe?"

"Red." Good. You'd gotten so used to him that you didn't waste time pointing out the obvious by asking 'are you outside my house?!'.

"You sure it's not yellow?"

"That's my parents' room."

"Yellow looks more tempting.", he teased, as he shut the car door.

"I'm not messing around."

"Neither am I. Yellow it is."

"Nate!"

This was far too precious to him. You were actually worried. How cute.

The fact that he had to climb up wasn't really making him jump in joy, but he figured you'd enjoy that little touch of vintage chivalry.

Like fucking Rapunzel.

He tapped on your window once.

No answer. Don't fucking play around right now.

He knocked once more.

He was met with your extremely delightful glare as you slid your window up, watching him closely.

"Hey."

"Dude, you-"

"Shh, shh, shh. Let me in.", he mumbled, crouching to cram himself through, his hand still resting on the top of the pane.

"You're insane."

Immediately grabbing your face after he steadied himself, he hissed through gritted teeth, "Where the hell have you been?"

"What?"

"I didn't see you at all before today!"

"Yeah, we got a lot of work to do over spring break."

"This is why you don't take psychology, because you get stupid amounts of homework even during the holidays.", he muttered, as if he'd warned you about this eons ago.

"What do you want?"

"Party. You. Me. Now. Get dressed."

He almost punched you when you started laughing.

"You actually do have a sense of humour, Nate, good for you."

"I'm not kidding. Come on."

"No way in hell."

"You know what? No need to get dressed. You look great. Just come on. Live a little."

"You've already taken me to 'live a little' before, and I ended up shitfaced with a gun in my throat at school at 12:30 am."

Good. So you hadn't gotten over that. He didn't care if he was being sadistic - he was glad.

He sighed, flopping down onto your bed and ignoring the second glare to come from you that night. "This is so typically a teenage girl's bedroom."

He had no clue what he was saying, at this point. But he knew he was itching for a reaction, a reason for you to hit him again, so he could grab you and shut you up. He craved the conflict.

"Surprising, considering that's what I am."

"I mean, the band posters? Really?", he huffed, pointing around at your room as if he was giving you a tour of it.

"Have you even listened to Queen? Presley? Any of the oldies?"

The match was found. Time to light it.

"So the shitty music in the store was connected to your playlist.", he chuckled, shaking his head. "No wonder that old lady was so nice to you. She thought you were one of her Bingo buddies."

It was just a question of how long you could stand him sitting on your bed, disrespecting your music taste.

"If you're only here to invite me to a party, I'm sorry, I'm not coming."

"How would your family like me hanging out here?", he mused, tilting his head. You know, the one you'd probably love to bash into the pavement given a chance? That head.

You were so fucking hot when you were pissed, it was unbelievable to him. He could sense it, the anger.

The smell of your rage made him want to riot.

"You can't keep blackmailing me into doing what you want."

"Alright, fine."

Your uncomfortable frown made him snicker. "What's that look?"

"This is usually the part where you self-harm and tell me I'm being a bitch for not bending to your will."

"Tonight's different."

"Why?"

Because I'm going to unwrap every fucking secret of yours.

He shrugged, the corners of his lips curling downwards. "I don't want to."

"So, you'll leave?"

"I didn't say that.", he trailed off, watching you sit down on the chair across from your bed. "Let's just chill."

"Nate, when have you and I ever chilled?"

He licked his lips, narrowing his eyes at you, before giving you a sly smirk. His fingers emerged from his pocket as he pulled out a packet of pre-rolleds. "Right now."

"You're kidding."

"C'mon. Don't be a pussy."

"They'll smell it."

He lolled his head over to the door. "No, they won't. You're two floors up." He shifted to one side, patting the space next to him. "Come on, Y/N, don't end your badass streak so quickly."

His eyes followed you as you sat down gingerly, rubbing your forehead like he was causing you a genuine migraine. That's funny, she hasn't even seen me high, yet, (and she won't).

"Why do I let you do this?"

"Million dollar question if I ever heard one.", he scoffed, fumbling around his person for a lighter. He found it, placing the cigarette between his lips and lighting it, causing his next catastrophic words to come out a mumble. "But I'm glad you do."

He continued to watch your eyes change from frustration to mild fascination, to hesitation all in one second, as he puffed out through his teeth. "Fuck.", he groaned, handing it to you.

"I don't know about this."

"You think they'd like me?", he mused, looking at the door, and then back at you. "I'm known to make a good impression with parents."

"The no-blackmail thing didn't last long.", you huffed, taking it from him. Nate almost made out with you right then and there, the way your lips wrapped around it as if they were made only for him.

"Didn't want to break tradition.", he snorted as you coughed and sputtered, handing it back to him quickly.

"Gross."

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

The last thing he'd expected from that evening was actually staying. He'd thought he'd get you stoned, you'd pass out, and he'd leave.

But here you were.

Next to him.

Freaking him the hell out.

He looked down at his watch. 2 AM. Fuck.

"I gotta go."

"You've been saying that for the past three hours."

Shut up. "Eh, well, it's not like my parents are worried."

"Why not?"

"They know I can handle myself."

"Right, because I'm such a threat."

"God, no. They'd love you." He shook his head subtly, grinning as you nudged his face playfully with your foot from across the bed. "You should come over, sometime."

"I'm not coming over, Nate."

The weed made sure you didn't push him away when he gently grabbed your leg. "Why not?"

"Because we're not friends. There's no reason for me to meet your parents."

"I just think it's right that you get to judge my room, too.", he muttered, lips on your ankle like it was his life support. "You know, justice or whatever."

"It's probably all monocoloured, plain, boring crap."

"Only one way to find out.", he teased.

He despised the silence that followed. High-you wasn't exactly chatty, it seemed.

"Tell me something about you."

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "Anything."

"This is my first time smoking weed."

"Not exactly a secret, sweetheart."

"You didn't ask for a secret."

"Now I am. Tell me a secret."

"I hate football."

You were more resilient than he thought, seeing as you'd smoked three cigarettes already, and the most you'd given him was your sports preferences.

But he'd take what he got.

"Because of me?"

"No, just generally."

"But you came to games.", he countered.

"Because of Maddy."

"You guys are close?"

You nodded, stirring slightly as you looked out your window. "Mhm."

"So she told you." Shit.

You tilted your head, sitting up as he gripped your calf, moving closer and placing kisses on your knee, too. "About?"

Well, if you didn't already know, no need to tell you.

"To come to the games."

"Oh. Yeah."

Nice save, Jacobs.

"I guess now I owe you a secret, huh?"

"I guess you do."

"You're not gonna like it.", he murmured, lazily tracing even more shapes on your knee, while his other hand had trailed up to your arm. "But I love your lips."

He smiled when the corners of your eyes crinkled up and you burst into a fit of giggles. "What?"

"It's true. They're perfect."

"God, I love weed."

You would, seeing as you smoked more of it than he did. Enough to kind of make him feel slightly guilty.

"It's not just the weed saying this.", he continued, shaking his head. "I'd fight wars for those lips. For you."

He shouldn't have liked the fading of your laugh so much, the slight trepidation brewing on your face, either, but for some reason, he did. "Nate, I'm not... I don't wanna-"

"Be fought for? Why not?"

He took the silence as a cue to brush his finger against your cupid's bow. "You don't think you deserve it?"

He watched your lips move under his finger as you shook your head, side to side. "Well, I do. And, guess what?"

"What?"

"I got another question for you."

Your frown was your response.

"Why didn't you push me away when I kissed you that night on the bleachers?" He knew the answer. Of course he did.

"I was drunk."

"Yeah, see, you weren't that drunk.", he taunted. But no, you were. He'd given you basically one and a half bottles. Just like tonight, taking barely ten puffs while you took thrice as much. You just hadn't noticed.

"I don't know, then."

"I just think that if you didn't push me away, it can't have been the terrible experience you made it out to be, in the car."

"What do you want to hear, Nate?"

"That you want to do it again. 'Cause you do. Don't you?"

"I don't."

"Yes, you do. If you could see your own eyes right now, you'd agree."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

He waited for a reaction, a scoff, an eye roll, anything, but you just looked back at him, and then down at the hand he was holding. Oh, it was the weed.

So he took matters into his own hands. No. He took you into his own hands, tracing the gap between your lips with his tongue before he pushed it in.

Your lips were war-worthy, just like before. But this time, something was different. This time, you kissed back.

There we go.

His hands ran over your back as though he were splaying a huge deck of cards across a table, and he came to the grave realization that maybe, just maybe, he was no longer doing this just for a reaction.

"Come here.", he murmured, making up for his lack of oxygen by trying to steal yours as he pulled you onto him. How Shane Crestin hadn't killed himself over the fact that he'd fumbled this bag, he'd never know. Loser.

His hands slipped under your shirt. Wrong move, seeing as you pulled away. "No."

Wasn't weed supposed to last longer?

"What?"

"I'm not... no."

"You seemed into it, like a moment ago. Face it : you want this. No amount of bullshit self-respect or whatever you wanna call it, is going to change that.", he responded, coolly, as he took a drag from the blunt, his lips immediately feeling the lack of yours.

"You're just trying to get back at Maddy."

God, he wished that were true. Would make much more sense.

He sighed, his forehead on yours. "I'm not, but you're not going to believe me.", he mumbled, watching you get off him and move back to the other side of the bed.

Oceans away. Too fucking far.

"I'm sorry." There was something he hadn't said in a while. "For, like, everything."

"Why am I so fucking important to you? If I just showed up to every game for you, would you leave me the fuck alone? No, you wouldn't, because you sought me out during spring break! Am I just an easy target?"

No. "I don't... I don't fucking know, okay? You just are."

"Is it 'cause you hate me?", you questioned, so quietly that he had to debate whether to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness or actually kill himself in guilt for eliciting it.

"What?"

"Do you hate me?"

"For what?" He had no fucking clue what this could be about. Every single thing he'd done so far indicated the opposite. But he didn't want to let himself go there.

"Being your good luck charm."

Oh. He had to think about that one. "No. It would be weird if it was someone else."

"I just mean... it must be frustrating, when you need someone, and they might not always be there."

"But you will, right? Be there?"

"You scare me, Nate."

He scoffed, slightly, rolling his eyes. "You're unbelievable. Why? Gimme one reason - a real one - why you're scared of me."

"You're violent."

Okay, he was hoping you'd give an invalid one.

"I like beating people up.", he shrugged. "But never for no reason."

"Not exactly a secret, sweetheart. And anyway, it's not only the beating up that you like."

"Hm?"

"You like getting beat up, too."

Remind him never to give you weed again.

"Why would I-"

"On some level, you feel like you deserve it.", you replied, shrugging as you took a long puff of the miracle weed that apparently made you unreasonably perceptive.

Okay, confirmed, not even the word weed would be mentioned around you anymore.

"You think I deserve it?"

"Mostly, yeah. But not... all the time."

"How do you know so much?", he asked, watching your fingers get lost in your hair. He couldn't afford eye contact.

"Psychology."

"See? You shouldn't have taken it. It's creepy."

You sighed, smiling as you looked up at the ceiling. "Sorry."

He did not expect you to back down, that was for sure.

"It's fine. Never giving you weed again, though."

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

It actually took until the very last day of spring break for him to catch up with you again. Not like he was pissed that you pushed him away, or anything. Or that he was confused about the entire interaction in the bedroom of someone who, until three weeks ago, he wouldn't have been caught dead talking to. He was just busy. Sure. Let's go with that.

"Hey."

"Not now, Nate."

"What is your problem?" Wait, no. That kinda talk was why you were pissed at him. "Look, we should start over."

God, he sounded like a cunt. This was definitely something that pathetic Shane Crestin would say. Ew.

"Okay. Can you start by going over there?", you asked, restocking the shelves with whatever bullshit condiment you had to.

"I'm an ass. I'm a jerk, I'm- I'm a dick."

You were silent for a moment, before you added: "A small one, too."

He sighed, beaming with relief. "A small one, too.", he agreed, nodding. "I'm just here to ask you over to dinner. My house. I'll even cook."

Dude, if you didn't agree, he'd actually fucking kill you.

"No way you cook."

"Only one way to find out."

He saw the falling apart. The gradual breaking down. The glacier was melting. "I'll listen to Queen or whatever, with you."

The quiet was taunting him, but you came to his rescue. "No steak."

"No steak."

Yes. Fucking yes.

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creepsterdreams · 3 months ago

Note

touchstarved hc/mini scenario: LIs notice MC likes sitting closer to them when its colder ft. the intense desire to touch Vere's tail and spending prolonged periods of time sitting in upright fetal position

Before I begin, I just wanted to tell you that I love your mind for this!

But I fully believe that all LI's would love it if MC wanted to sit closer to them whenever it was colder outside!! (^-^) and honestly, Vere would probably hate me for constantly asking to pet his tail

Touchstarved mini scenarios: MC sitting closer when it's cold

Content warnings: mention of blood in Mhin's part, a little suggestive in Vere's part, Vere being a little shit, could be read as platonic or romantic, not proofread

Leander

The bustling sound of the Wet Wick was echoing through the upstairs hallways. The sound of laughing, glasses clinking together, and talking all ran through your head as you sat in the room Leander had given you all the while ago. And even though it was beginning to get much colder in Eridia, that didn't seem to slow business down, in fact, it feels as if it's grown even, probably due to people needing a warm place to stay. And in somewhere like Lowtown that's a luxury so few can afford, especially due to its frequent flooding from bad storms.

The sound of boisterous laughter coming up the stairs quickly pull you out of your thoughts. And before you could even question who it is, you already know it's Leander, probably coming to check on you after your sudden disappearance from the bar.

His laughter settles down as he gets closer to your room, before coming to a complete silence as he knocks on the door.

"Hey MC? I'm coming in."

The door opens and he walks in, turning around for a split second to close it before walking towards your figure that was currently resting on the bed, curled up with your head resting on your arms.

He suddenly gives you a look of concern, wondering why you were in that position and why you hadn't acknowledged him yet. Eventually, he reached the bed, sat down next to you and gently tapped his knee.

"You...okay?"

You didn't respond to the question, instead, you scooted a bit closer to him, maneuvering around so that your head now rested on his shoulder. Peaking your head up enough so that your mouth was visible, you whispered in a tired voice

"It's cold."

Leander's eyebrows raised in surprise, taking notice of your shivering figure before letting out a breathy laugh and deciding to wrap his arms around you, making sure you are secure and gently rubbing his thumb on your back.

"Don't you worry....I'll be right here, keeping you warm."

Ais

The loud whistling from the wind is heard echoing throughout the sea spring, making it more obvious that the colder seasons were here.

You were currently resting in the "bedroom" part of the temple that belonged to Ais. Although it was more of an empty space with some furs, pillows, and a futon that he found and scattered along the floor, it was still comfortable enough to sleep on, so you couldn't complain.

Princess was also with you, lying next to you and letting out some soft chirps and purrs. You were in the middle of petting her before she suddenly jumped up and ran towards the entrance, signaling to you that Ais had returned.

He took a moment to crouch down and coo at her, rubbing both sides of her head and pressing a soft kiss on it. Getting up again with princess trailing behind him, he comes towards the room and immediately his eyes are met with the sight of you lying down on his bed with at least three blankets curled around you.

"Comfortable sparrow?"

You lift your head up and tiredly stare at him. "As comfortable as I can get." You say with a raspy tone, watching him chuckle as he makes his way over to you and sits down, setting the bag of whatever he got from the market next to him.

Almost immediately you sit up and wrap your arms around his midsection, cuddling closer to him and sighing happily upon feeling his body heat.

"Your so warrrmmmm." You say breathily while snuggling into his side. Ais lets out another chuckle, taking one of his arms and wrapping it around you

"Getting a little brave, are we?"

You didn't respond, instead humming and keeping your arms around him, letting his warmness take over you and lure you into a nice, deserved nap.

Kuras

You and Kuras were both sitting down in the kitchen of his clinic, he was reading a book while you were face down in the middle of drinking some hot chocolate you had made earlier.

Looking up from the cup you were holding, you stared. at Kuras who was still reading the book, eyes racing across the pages. He eventually did take notice of your intense staring and took off his glasses before setting the book down and placing them on top of it.

"Is there something you need MC?" He asks inquisitively.

You continue staring at him, taking another sip of the hot chocolate before dragging your eyes away from his gaze, choosing to look down at the floor instead.

"It's nothing...."

"Are you sure? You look like you have something on your mind."

Curse him and his amazing sense of reading others.

Some time ago you noticed that Kuras had a concerningly low body temperature, almost damn near freezing most of the time, especially his hands. And you knew this thought was childish but you couldn't help but think maybe if you sat closer to him again, you and he could warm up once more.

Setting down the cup of hot chocolate, you rub your hands together before sliding them underneath the seat to start scooting closer to Kuras.

He watches you with a raised eyebrow, rightfully confused about your actions.

Eventually, you get close enough to where you are shoulder to shoulder with him, automatically feeling the coldness of his own body.

Kuras quickly took notice of this, letting out a soft chuckle before putting back on his glasses and picking up the book yet again, still keeping his shoulder connected to yours.

"If you wanted to warm up a bit, you could've said so."

Vere

Although the wall you were sitting on was cold as all hell, it was the least of your worries at the moment as you were doing your best to get away from the festivities that were currently going on in the Wet Wick. The Bloodhounds had an intense battle earlier today with some soulless and other monsters that were terrorizing parts of Lowtown. So in celebration, Leander ordered a bunch of drinks and food and let the Bloodhounds indulge in anything they wanted. While it was fun at first, it was quickly becoming overstimulating as they got increasingly louder and more reckless, most likely due to the alcohol.

Which led you to your current position, curled up against a wall in the alleyway next to bar, freezing your ass off but not wanting to return to the party.

"I thought I smelled a little rabbit. Not enjoying the fun?"

You quickly tilt your head up, latching your gaze onto the fox that is standing over you with a mocking smirk. He laughs seeing the shock on your face, stepping over to your side taking a sheet from the ground, and then putting it on top of a box, probably not wanting to get his clothes dirty.

"So, you're trying to avoid him too? I wouldn't be surprised, he's extra annoying when he's wasted" Vere continued on, wrapping a lock of his hair around his finger while putting one leg over the other.

You decided to stay silent, too fixated on watching the way his tail sways back and forth.

Has it always been this fluffy?

Vere catches onto your silence, wondering why you weren't responding to his snide remarks. He stops talking and stares down at you, clicking his tongue when he realizes you were staring at his tail.

"See something you like?" He says with a teasing tone.

You still say nothing, opting to keep a steady gaze on the fluffy appendage. You then slowly lift a hand up, inching it close to his tail.

"Can I?..."

Vere's eyes for a moment go as wide as saucers, a bit caught off guard from your sudden question. But it quickly returns back to a smirk, choosing to lean down a bit closer to you.

"You're going to have to beg a little harder than that if you want to touch me."

You send him a small glare, in which in response he falls back laughing, enjoying your reactions to him.

"Well, since I do...somewhat like you, I guess I can entertain your request. But do be careful, I would hate for you to lose your hands."

The threat at the end of his sentence sends a light shiver down your spine, but you understand it nonetheless. Now having his permission, you scoot closer towards him and gently grasp his tail so it wraps around your body, offering you warmth in the cold weather. You gently pet the end of it, smiling to yourself at the feeling of the fur running through your fingers.

Vere on the other hand is trying to ignore that soft feeling slowly rising within his heart. Seemingly enjoying seeing you using his tail as a makeshift blanket.

"Hmm...I guess I can allow this..once"

Mhin

It had been a while since you had seen Mhin, a part of you slowly becoming worried about their whereabouts, but another part of you felt that they were okay, just taking a bit longer on their nightly hunts for soulless in the city.

You were finishing up getting ready for bed, doing your best to find something comfortable enough to keep you warm through the night. After finishing your nightly routine, you eventually lay down in your bed, pulling the covers up to your chest and snuggling into the pillow.

That's when you hear the sound of shuffling coming from the window. It at first sends you into a panic but then you calm down, realizing it's most likely just Mhin returning.

You hear the sound of boots landing on the wooden floor, and then the irritated mumbling coming from Mhin, obviously irritated from whatever blood and other disgusting things got on their clothing.

You peak your head up at them, slowly sitting up while watching them do their best to wipe everything off.

"You were out there for that long in the cold?" You say with a hint of concern in your voice.

Your sudden question makes them pause and turn to you, slightly surprised by the fact that your still awake.

"Of course I was, someone has to get rid of those damn things."

You continue staring at them as they take off their cloak and boots, assumingly wanting to stay with you for a bit before they jump up again to look for some jobs. They trudge over to the bed and lay down, draping one of their arms over their eyes and sighing heavily.

You do your best to hide giggle wanting to leave your chest, finding humor in seeing Mhin so relaxed despite their usual tough exterior.

They huff again before a small scowl reaches their face.

"I know your cold as hell so get over here."

What they said caught you off guard. Mhin? Of all people wanting physical contact?

"What are you talking about?" You say with a voice of pure confusion

"Don't think I don't notice you sitting closer to me whenever it's cold."

.....well shit

You thought you were a bit better at hiding the obvious stealing of their body heat, but you guess you can't really hide anything from someone who hunts for a living.

You decide to not argue against it and get closer to them, lying down on their chest and sighing at the feeling of warmth. They click their tongue and use their free hand to set it gently on your back.

"Try not to enjoy it too much."

Author's note: I hope that was what you were asking for!! I apologize if it seems rushed or too fast-paced! (T_T)

#Touchstarved x reader #Touchstarved imagines #red spring studios #Touchstarved fanfiction #Touchstarved hcs #Leander x reader #Ais x reader #Kuras x reader #Vere x reader #Mhin x reader

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nowimjustastranger · 2 months ago

Note

Has Stcmo Ford come across a dimension that alerted him a Stanley was in danger, but he got there, everything seems fine. Keyword “seems”.

And after numerous checks, everything seems like in order. On the surface it just looks like another dimension with Ford, Fiddleford and Stan living together in gravity falls.

But there is just SOMETHING that feels immensely wrong about this dimension.

Like the way that this Stanley and Fiddleford seem a little too overly content with their lives, they aren’t seem to be lost or forgetting things so it can’t be the memory gun. And by the looks of it, the Bill Cipher of this dimension is dead.

In fact the more Stcmo Ford looks into it…

Filbrick is dead, Fiddleford’s wife Emma-May seems to be dead, Shermie is dead, newspapers on about the last few years show that many gang leaders have either gone mysteriously missing or have seemed to have been killed. Jimmy Snakes, Rico, several people who knew Stanley in prison are dead as well. Many people that would be considered a threat have been killed.

There’s something off about this Ford as well, he seems to always be watching Fiddleford and Stanley, the two always were within watch.

Like a wolf watching over his two sheep.

Not entirely sure what era this is happening in, but I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume it's a "Mystery Trio AU" type situation, so it would be set in the early years in Gravity Falls.

Ford has been in Dimension 1R^86 for three days now and he's nearly at his wits end, he has no idea what the threat is or even where it might come from. He hasn't slept at all either, maintaining constant vigilance of the shack and it's inhabitants.

Ford is currently perched in one of the large trees surrounding the shack, hidden in the branches with a direct line of sight to both entrances. There's been nothing, no activity around the shack within a fifty foot radius. Which is another thing, Ford hasn't spotted so much as a gnome rooting through the trash in the three days he's been watching.

It's... something's not right but he can't put a finger on what.

With a growl, Ford's eyes flick to the icon in the top corner of his hud, selecting it with a thought so the data flooded onto the screen, his proximity sensors online to warn him if anything tries to sneak up on him while he's preoccupied.

D – 1R^86 | 29 yo | COD: Blunt Force Trauma

No change.

Ford exited out of the data with a frustrated huff, he'd done a lot of digging into the deaths that surrounded Stan and the results all pointed toward one Ford Pines being the culprit, but the way that he watched over his brother and Fiddleford so intently made it highly unlikely that he was the threat.

The Ford in this dimension reminded Ford 419"3 of himself, an ambush predator watching and waiting for the opportunity to strike. A wolf that muzzled itself in the presence of it's sheep so they would not be afraid, because despite the wolf's nature, those sharp teeth and claws were never meant for the sheep.

They were for other predators.

Other predators that might also be watching and waiting for the wolf to stray too far from the sheep, waiting for the wolf's teeth to go dull as it grew fat and lazy within the comfort of it's den. But not these wolves who starved themselves to keep their body lean, who kept their teeth sharp with frequent hunts, who lulled other predators into a false sense of security by leaving the sheep unattended-

Wait. Shit. How long ago did the Ford leave the house?

His proximity sensors shrieked at him and Ford barely managed to dodge the first bolt that had been aimed at his side, the second burying itself in his calf. So the Ford was looking to incapacitate and not kill, not exactly a comforting realization.

Ford's landing was sloppy, his leg buckling when he hit the ground in a crouch, giving the Ford just enough time to line up a clear shot. Neither moved, both waiting to see what the other would do. The Ford's aim was steady and his finger poised to shoot, his empty stare more akin to a shark than a wolf.

"You've been scurrying around for long enough, little rat." The Ford spoke calmly, with a voice void of emotion. It was unnerving, how robotic this Ford was when he wasn't with his brother and Fiddleford, like he was removing a mask. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you."

"Your brother is going to die." Ford divulged, watching the Ford's hands flex on the crossbow, indecisive. Ford could work with that. "I can stop it from happening, but only if you let me work."

"You really think I'm going to trust you at your word?" The Ford asked with an ominous tilt of his head, dark eyes studying Ford as if he were a specimen. It made Ford's skin crawl, fingers twitching with the urge to gouge the Ford eyes out just so he would stop looking at Ford the same way He used to.

"You're going to have to because if you kill me, your brother is as good as dead."

#gravity falls #side quest #somebody to call my own au #stan and ford #stan pines #ford pines #stan twins #writing #ask box #overprotective ford pines #tw: implied murder #tw: serial killer ford

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ivyasproperty · 3 months ago

Text

You take my breath away.

wanda.m x fem!reader, wanda.m x vision, natasha.r x reader ( platonic, brief )

summary — you can't help with the way you feel, it's like you're being pulled towards her. but all you can do is watch from afar as she falls into his arms and your lungs can't help but grow with roses.

warning(s) — vision ( yes he is a warning. ), hanahaki disease, angst to fluff, i think that's it..

word count : 2.1k

A/N : this is my first fic! let me know if you have any suggestions or advice cuz i think i'd rlly need it >< enjoy!!! xoxo

men / minors dni!

You watched in silence as Wanda was once again swept away in his arms. She was once again cancelling movie night on you to go on a date with Vision. You'd expected this, her leaving you by yourself as she has the time of her life with the love of her life. As much as you wanted to hate her, you couldn't. Your heart longed for her.

As you watched Wanda get ready for her date with Vision, you couldn't help but feel breathless, but you didn't care, since you already knew the reason why. But maybe it was because of how stunning she looked tonight, her red satin dress reached her ankles, paired with black heels that elevated her look. She looked like she'd just got back from the met gala or something. You couldn't stay for long though, as your throat started to itch and you started getting the urge to cough.

You couldn't ignore it forever. The roses in your lungs were growing like vines climbing up an old tree. The petals red, just like her favorite color. It was quite ironic, you thought. The rose petals always reminded you of her whenever you coughed them up. The vibrant red of the them would always bring a smile of sadness on your face. You loved and hated it, you loved it because it reminded you of her, but hated it because you knew she didn't love you back.

You and Wanda had met before she even joined the avengers. You were a Hydra experiment, just like her. Whenever they would want to hurt her, drag her or maybe do even unspeakable things to her, you'd always be by her side to defend her, receiving the gruesome acts instead. After all the beating up, Wanda would always come out of the corner she scurried off to after yo defended her, checking up on your wounds, both physical and mental wounds. After making sure you weren't injured to the fact you'd bleed out, she'd pinky-promise you that'd she get you guys out of there. You always felt a fluttering feeling in your stomach whenever your pinky finger connected with hers, but you never thought much of it at the time since being locked in since you were a child, you never really knew what the feeling of love was.

After the Ultron incident and being accepted as avengers, Natasha Romanoff took you under her wing, training you and taking care of you whenever you felt like shit after Wanda dumped you to be with Vision. You couldn't understand why you were so upset at that, so you confided to Natasha about your feelings, she had told you with a pitying smile that you were in love, deeply in love in fact. You felt blood rush to your cheeks, you've never felt love, especially not when you were with Hydra, so this feeling was still new to you.

Back to the present, it was a few months after that conversation. You had already excused yourself to the bathroom multiple times to cough out the pedals. You bet that you would've been able to make an entire bouquet of flowers with the amount you had spit out. You felt light headed from all the blood you coughed up as well, and it showed because of your pale skin and dry lips. Wanda still hadn't realized though, too engrossed in picking out which necklace would bring out her jade-green eyes. 'The necklace on the right', you would've said, if not only for the roses climbing up your throat. You couldn't bear it anymore, running to the bathroom with teary eyes.

Wanda watched you bolt off with concern, her worried eyes watching you as you locked yourself in the bathroom once again. She sighed, not knowing what was wrong with you. She didn't want to read your mind, knowing it would be an invasion of your privacy, she'd pinky-promised you ( once again ) that she would never use her powers against you. She sighed once again, checking the time on her phone, realizing it was almost time for Vision to pick her up. She called out to you, telling you she was leaving, but received no reply. She frowned at that, no matter where you were in her apartment, be it the kitchen, the bathroom or her bedroom, you'd always reply to her. She left feeling a heaviness in her heart, not knowing why.

Once you heard the front door close, you started to cough more loudly, more violently. You held back when she was still in hearing-radius, and being the kind person you are, didn't want to worry her, so you kept your mouth shut. As you coughed up the pedals that were increasing by the day, you couldn't help but notice a new detail. Roots. Roots were starting to be coughed up. 'Not too long now', you thought. You've been preparing yourself for the worst already, knowing the end was unescapable. Hey, maybe when you do die, you could have a nice chat with your long-term friend, Lady Death. You'd had met Rio multiple times, on mission or when you were at Hydra. The near death experiences were no stranger to you.

Your coughs were loud enough to be heard from the kitchen, but you didn't care. Wanda wasn't here anyway, she was with Vision. Just thinking of him brought a different bitter taste to your mouth. You would always think to yourself, what does he have that you don't? Maybe it was that stupid stone in his head. But as long as Wanda was happy, you'd be satisfied. You continued to cough and spit out blood and roses, not knowing Wanda had come back inside the apartment after realizing she left her wallet behind.

As Wanda entered her apartment, she could hear the violent coughs you were letting out. She ran to the bathroom door, knocking violently, asking if you were okay. You wanted to reply to her, but you couldn't let out any noise besides the sounds of your coughing. You felt tears roll down your cheeks, not wanting Wanda to hear your suffering. If Wanda wasn't worried when she heard your violent coughing, she was worried now as she heard your not only coughing, but wheezing through the door now. She didn't know what happened to her but she felt a surge through her, and before you knew it, she had ripped the door down. Her gaze quickly laid on you, and the roses in the toilet bowl. She knew right away what it meant. You looked at her, bewildered at the fact she had just ripped her door down. You followed her gaze to the toilet bowl, now noticing another new detail. Or maybe details, plural tense would suit it better anyway since they were not only leaves but thorns too. It was a full and complete rose at this point.

Wanda got on her knees, not caring that her dress might've ripped from the impact. She shouted at you, telling you to tell her who did this to you. You looked at her with you tear stained cheeks and bloody lips, giving her a tight lipped smile which you'd showed her so many times. You heard another pair of footsteps not too long later, looking up just to see Vision. 'Oh, that's right, they were supposed to go on a date', you thought, you couldn't help but look at Wanda with a blank stare, the ringing in your ears too loud to hear what she was saying, or shouting, you couldn't tell. And before you knew it, all you could see was pitch black.

You woke up to the blinding lights of the medical room in the compound, you were used to it, being in here multiples times after missions has made you feel at peace in the quiet atmosphere. You could hear the faint beeping of the heart monitor, but you weren't focused on that, what you were focused on was the weight on your side.

You craned your neck down, surprised to see a sleeping Wanda by your side, you couldn't help the fluttering in your chest from coming back, but that feeling very quickly turned to confusion. Wasn't she supposed to be on a date with her dearly beloved toaster? ( i couldn't help it. ) You looked around the room, your eyes laying on the clock, ' 9.30 PM' it read. You looked back at Wanda, surprised to see her already awake and looking back at you. Her eyes quickly welled with tears, knowing she almost lost you to some disease caused by one sided love. She didn't know why but she felt like her world had almost crashed down on her when you passed out on the bathroom floor with petals and roots still in your mouth. She had never felt that upset before in her life, ever. Not even when she had to blow a whole through Visions head, which she didn't do after finding a way to stop Thanos without killing her love. But she felt on edge, she had never felt this upset before. Not with Vision, which was supposed to be her soulmate, but with you, her partner in crime, her defender, her best friend. Wanda didn't know why but she felt a sting when she said the last term. It was then that she realized, she was in love with you. Not with Vision, but with you, she always had, and always will she concluded.

"Who is it?" "What? What do you mean?", you replied. "The person you're in love with, whoever they are, they're a full for not loving you back. Because of them you have this diseas-", you tuned out her voice halfway through her sentence, sure watching her rambling on was cute as hell, but you were focused on her worried face, why was she worried? Sure you were her best friend, but there was a different look on her usual worried face, it was as if it was full of love.... 'No, it can't be', you thought. But your thoughts were cut off as yo were sent into another coughing fit. Wanda shut up immediately and assisted in your breathing with her powers, the itchiness and soreness of your throat fading away, but still lingering there.

"Why are you here?", you said. "What do you mean why am I here? You literally passed out on my bathroom floor!" "Yeah, all because of you!", you shouted. You looked at her with widen eyes after realizing what you had said, she had the exact same expression on her face. "M-me? What do you mean because of me?" You looked away, not wanting to face her. Wanda clearly didn't like that, and used her fingers to grip you chin to make you look at her. Her eyes screamed at you for an explanation. You sighed, guess it was time to finally let the cat out of the bag. "Fine, the reason I even have this godforsaken disease is because of you. Yes, you. Don't act as if you're so surprised, you should've known, but no! You were too busy spending your oh so precious time with some red fucking toaster. Do you not get it Wanda? I love yo-" You couldn't even register your surroundings as Wanda pulled you in for a kiss, the feeling of her soft pink lips colliding with yours was a feeling you never wanted to forget.

After parting lips, you looked at her in a daze. Wanda lightly giggled at that, your dazed look embedded into her mind. "W-what was that?! What about Vision!? Why are you even here anyway, you're supposed to be on a dat-" "Do you ever stop talking about him? I cancelled the date with Vision, I never loved him, I've always loved you." You looked at her, still trying to register her words, after doing so, you started to panic, just as you were about to say something, you felt your chest become lighter, the itchiness and soreness in your throat disappearing into thin air. The amount of fresh air caused you to cough again, not used to breathing in fresh air after such a long time.

The feeling of fresh air in your lungs caused to to look up after your coughing fit, looking at Wanda with shocked eyes. She looked at you with a smile that screamed just what you wanted it to scream, "I love you, I always have, I always will". You didn't hesitate to pull her in for another kiss, one that took both her and your breath away, but in a good way.

She was finally yours, your Wanda. And you were finally hers, her defender, her hero.

A/N : i had so much fun writing this!!! i hope you guys enjoyed this, but since this is my first fic there's for sure some errors, feel free to give any advice or suggestions!!!

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x vision #wanda x vision #wanda maximoff #marvel #hanahaki disease #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x you #ivyawrites.ᐟ #first post

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petertingle-yipyip · 2 years ago

Text

Question…? - Miguel O’hara

//the miguel brainrot brought this piece to life tbr. it’s kinda just for shits and giggles but there might be more. depends on how this one does//

Pairing: Miguel O’hara x Reader

Word Count: 3,868

Summary: The latest recruit to the Spider Society hits a bit too close to home for its head honcho. But with great power comes great persistence to get answers.

You landed on the roof of your building and pulled your mask up, wiping a hand down your slightly sweaty face. You looked at the bright display of the neon billboard across the alley and saw the breaking news story of your latest bust of the local Midnight Sons crime syndicate. You smirked slightly as you watched the reporter talk to the police who had to reluctantly admit that you, Arachne, had caught them. He tried to dance around it but the fact that your webs were covering the background made it obvious.

Just as you were about to head inside, you felt a tingle shoot down your spine. An unfamiliar yet not unwelcome sensation crawled across your skin so you quickly replaced your mask and spun around, web shooters ready. Instead of being greeted by a foe, you were greeted with a large and seemingly unstable orange circle that vaguely resembled a doorway.

Before you could say anything, you had to drop to your stomach as a motorbike came barreling through. You rolled to your back and flicked a quick burst from either wrist to latch a web to both tires. You kicked yourself back and pulled the bike with you, forcing its rider to disengage and land on the opposite side of the roof.

“Not bad.” She said, though her back was still to you as you stood slowly. “I knew you were quick, but I didn’t think you’d be that quick.”

“Right… And you are?” You asked carefully. You didn’t feel she was a threat, but something about the way she triggered that sixth sense made you tense. “I mean, you came at me full speed on a motorcycle so you owe me that.”

“Jessica Drew.” She turned to face you and the first thing you noticed was her belly. “And I’m just like you.”

“I’m not pregnant!” You decided quickly, a hand covering your stomach.

She laughed and shook her head. After a second, you hesitantly laughed with her. “I meant the Spider Woman thing.”

“Ah…” You nodded before slowly lifting your mask again. “That’s what I felt?”

“Mhmm..”

“I thought I was the only one.”

“Yes and no.” She moved towards her bike, which you hurried over to beside her. “If you’re interested, there’s someone I think you should meet.”

You followed her through the orange and ended up in a massive complex. There were dozens upon dozens of variations of… you.

A cat version. A monkey version. A dinosaur. A plushie. A cyborg. An avatar. A video game. Other girls, other guys. Any type of Spider variation you could imagine, it was there.

As you were taking it all in, you were hit with the sharpest pain you’d ever had in your life. It took over your entire body, felt as if you were being yanked apart and haphazardly put back together. Your insides felt rearranged and your head spun violently while everything seemed to be ignited. But the pain only lasted for a second.

Jessica told you it was your body glitching from being outside your own universe, which she also explained was granted the official title of Earth-3505. She slipped a blue band around your wrist and you felt every ounce of tension in your body disappear. She explained the device on her wrist, how it kept her from glitching while allowing for travel to any dimension.

You had to admit. All the tech and different universes blew every single theory and experiment you had ever known out of the water.

You were talking with Jessica through the long walk down a rather dark and drafty hall that led to a wide open work area. She called to the man on the platform, which began to lower at an agonizingly slow pace. Awkwardly, you rocked on your heels and fiddled with your web shooters, checking the cartridges and scratching away the dried remnants from your earlier endeavors. You tugged the neck of your suit and dusted imaginary dirt off before running fingers through your hair and giving it a small shake in an effort to look a bit more presentable.

When you heard the gears click into place you looked back and found yourself in utter shock, despite him not even facing you yet.

And as someone who would fight the Bloodstones, a werewolf, and the literal avatar of a god of the moon, it took a lot to render you speechless.

The man on the platform was massive. The width of his chest and shoulders alone was at least the size of a twin mattress. His height towered over yours and you could tell even from the distance he was at. His upper body narrowed ridiculously into his waist, though his legs were proportionately built as well. And covering that Hercules-esque physique was a fitted red and blue suit, just like everyone else you had seen in that building.

So why hadn’t he given you the same tingle Jessica did?

You were snapped out of your thoughts when an elbow came roughly into your ribs.

“What?” You asked quickly, an innocent obliviousness in your voice.

“Introduce yourself.” Jessica hissed.

“Right.” You nodded and took a hesitant step forward. “I’m Y/N, from Earth 35-something.”

“3505.” She whispered.

“Yeah, sorry. Anyways, I’m like you and her and everyone else here… Back home I’m called Arachne, like the.. The myth. I’m sorry, are you not gonna face me?”

“¿Mande?” He said sharply and the sound of his voice drove your pulse to jump.

“If you’re gonna have your back to me the whole time, why am I even here?” You pushed, though your resolve was slowly shattering as you watched him turn around.

The room may have been dimly lit but you could see what looked like a red tint to his eyes.

“Why are you here?” He asked tightly as he hopped off the platform and stalked closer to you. You swallowed hard and flattened your two middle fingers against your palm to feel the trigger for your webs. “Why are-“

His sentence cut off abruptly when he got a few feet away from you.

“Miguel?” Jessica asked from beside you. You had forgotten she was there but you felt a bit more relaxed to know you weren’t alone in that room. “What is it?”

“What did you say your name was?” He asked. His words were intended to be more gentle, more intimate maybe, but they still had enough of an edge to keep your fingers where they were.

“Y/N… And you’re..?”

His face fell at your uncertainty, though you doubted Jessica noticed. He recovered rather quickly, as if your words reminded him of something painful. Something he already knew.

“Miguel O’hara.” He stood a bit taller, if that was even possible.

“It’s nice to meet you… You built all of this?” You asked lamely in hopes to fill the silence that you felt would suffocate you if you ignored.

“Yeah.. It’s a way to preserve the multiverse. Everyone here was hand picked to serve a bigger cause, to protect each other’s universe and canons.”

“I assume that’ll get explained if I get in?” You turned to Jessica who nodded with a small, amused smile.

“¿Perdóname, si entras?” His head cocked as the corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk that you felt was sarcastic. “No.”

“What?” You and Jessica asked at the same time.

“No.” He enunciated, hands at his waist and leaning forward.

“Why not?” You asked angrily, stepping forward with no regard to the size difference. “I can take anyone here!”

“Miguel, she’s really good.” Jessica tried earnestly. “I think you should give her a shot.”

“No.”

“C’mon.” She pressed.

“No.”

“What are you afraid of?” You challenged suddenly and the glare he shot your way made you hesitate.

“Afraid?” He laughed. “Afraid.. I’m not afraid.”

“Then what?”

“She looks just like her.” Miguel said, more to Jessica than you.

“Who?” She asked softly.

Miguel shot her a different look than the one he gave you. This one has more longing, more pain. You looked like someone he used to know. Likely someone he lost.

“Lyla.” Jessica said softly, waiting a moment for a hologram woman in a fur coat to appear at her shoulder. “Show Y/N around a little more, please.”

“Who- Oh.” The hologram spoke before disappearing and reappearing in front of you. She leaned in and lifted her heart shaped glasses before blinking away and reappearing up at Miguel’s side. A quick back and forth of hushed comments brought her back to you as she ushered you out of the room.

Lyla spoke quickly to you, bouncing around within your field of vision. She pointed out different Spider People, different villains. She showed you the machine that sent people home and the training center. While you were wandering the vast exercise area, you met two boys playfully roughhousing who seemed to create the golden retriever with black cat meets boys will be boys dynamic.

“Ooh! Who’s the new girl?” One of them ran up to you with a palpable excitement.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You smiled and the other one leaned in close.

“Look at that.” He said with a small smirk, seemingly changing color with each sentence. “Got little fangs and all. That’s mad.”

“Whaaaat? Let me see!” The first one pushed the taller one aside and replaced him, though he leaned in significantly closer.

“I’m guessing these aren’t normal for Spiderman.” You laughed and gently pushed him back. “What’re your names?”

“Hobie, Hobie Brown.” He offered you a short salute.

“Pavitr Prabhakar.” He gave an extravagant bow. “How long have you been a spider person?”

You blew out a sigh and tried to calculate the numbers. “A few years? It happened my senior year of high school, and then the two years there... And then.. All I know is its been a while. You guys?”

“Couple months.” Pavitr answered with a small hop. “It’s been so easy.”

“Three years.” Hobie answered simply. “And yeah, it’s not bad. Your universe a mess, then?”

“I think mine is a weird one based on what you guys have said.” You answered awkwardly. “Werewolves, swamp things, Egyptian gods, monster hunters.”

“Sounds like a fantasy book.” Hobie scoffed.

“That’s the Midnight Sons for you.” You shrugged. “There’s normal stuff too, like other vigilantes. Daredevil and Black Cat and the Widow.”

“Were they bitten by a spider too?” Pavitr added with wide eyes.

“Who, Widow? Not that I know of.”

“How’d you get the little-“ Hobie made a vague fang gesture. “You a vampire, too?”

“Well, no.” You rubbed a hand over your mouth, suddenly embarrassed of your teeth.

“You’ve got everything else. Figured you had the little blood suckers and allat.”

“There’s rumors of one guy but I haven’t met him.. Actually, the spider that bit me was a mix between the same thing that created my world’s Goblin and just the radioactive spider. It was supposed to be able to cure something but…” You shrugged.

“Do they do anything?” Pavitr asked, still looking at your mouth intently. He slowly reached a finger forward so you leaned away and gently pushed his hand to the side.

“Uh..” Your brows furrowed. “Idunno.” You mumbled as you shrugged.

“You’ve never tried to bite anyone?” He laughed and Hobie facepalmed gently. “I totally would’ve.”

“I’ll try it when I get home.” You laughed slightly. You glanced around and noticed the AI woman - Lyla - was nowhere to be seen. “Can I ask you guys something?”

“Go for it.” Hobie nodded and Pavitr’s head bounced up and down like a bobble head.

“The little AI, Lyla… Does she see everything?” You asked quietly.

“You trynna do somtin’ you shouldn’t, aye?” Hobie quirked a brow.

“I wanna try to talk to Miguel but I get the feeling that she’ll keep me away.”

“Why?” Pavitr whispered loudly,

“Cause he sent me away, said I looked too much like someone.”

“Oy, Pav.” Hobie nudged the smaller boy before leaning down and plotting quietly. They went back and forth for a few moments before looking back at you. “Make it quick, yeah?”

“I owe you.” You grinned.

Pavitr and Hobie shared a small fist bump before Pavitr reached his fist towards you. You chuckled slightly and returned the gesture before the two ran off. It was only a few moments before sprinklers went off in the room. Lyla popped in and out of view, speaking rapidly and tapping small screens in front of her. She appeared in front of you, disheveled glasses and jacket hanging from her shoulders.

“Do. Not. Move.” She said firmly and you held hands up in surrender. She pointed two fingers at her eyes before pointing to you, gesturing up and down your body before disappearing again.

You leaned around slightly to ensure her digital frame was nowhere to be seen before you booked it out of the room. Your wet feet slipped on the sleek tiles so you opted to swing across the complex and back to Miguel’s workspace.

You wiped a damp hand across your face as you entered the hall again before you pulled yourself to the ceiling and crawled down the long corridor. Jessica left in a huff, muttering that he was unreasonable and that she wasn’t done. You watched her freeze and turn around, squinting her eyes in suspicion. You stayed still above her in hopes that she wouldn’t find you but with the water subtly dripping from your suit and hair, you thought you were caught. With a small smirk, she turned back and left.

You blew out a small sigh and continued down your path until you reentered Miguel’s wide open room. His back was towards the entrance as he vigorously typed and swiped various projections away. He was muttering to himself, broken Spanglish as he worked in that increasingly frazzled state. His head cocked over his shoulder as you clung to the space above the door.

“¿Qué estás haciendo?” He asked tightly, unable to face you fully. “And why are you wet?”

“I just…” You spoke, realizing you had no idea how to start. “May like some explanations.”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you.” He spoke simply, clearly trying to shut down the conversation.

“Okay, but… What if I just ask some general questions that have simple answers? Is that okay? I mean, can I ask you a question? Well a couple, but you know what I mean.”

“Can you please stop, just for a second?“ He sighed and pressed his palms against the table. You pursed your lips slightly and drummed your fingers against the wall while you waited for him to say something. “You don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, do you?”

“I don’t usually have to beg like this.” You confessed. You shifted your feet and leaned your shoulders against the wall behind you, allowing your hands to aim webs at the edge of his platform. You pulled yourself over and stood in front of him. “Miguel, please…”

“Ay, dios mío. You sound just like her, too.” He spoke to himself, though the desperation in his voice was hard to miss.

“Listen, if you don’t want me here because whoever I remind you of, that’s not good enough of a reason.” You insisted. Your words finally got him to turn and face you, which really drove home just how big he was. You gave a nervous chuckle and crossed your arms in an attempt of defiance. “I can prove myself against anyone here. I know I can do this!”

“It’s not about whether you’re-“ He began before he leaned down closer. You pulled back and teetered the edge of the platform. “What was that?”

“You got a little close.” You defended with a shrug.

“Not that, cariño.” He shook his head. “Open your mouth.”

“Okay!” You said loudly, trying to push him by his chest. “That’s not how you- Ugh! Whatthehellare-“

Your words became an incomprehensible jumble of syllables when his hand came to your face, fingers pressing gently on your cheeks to keep your lips apart. His pointer finger was free to manipulate your upper lip, exposing one side of your mouth. With a satisfied smirk, he let you go.

“Thought so..” He offered a lazy smirk. “Lemme see your hands.”

“Is this like.. part of the initiation process or something?” You tried to joke as you held up one hand. He took it by your wrist and gave your palm a gentle prod, just missing the trigger for your web shooter. “What are you looking for?”

“You always talk this much?” He mumbled with a small eye roll as he let go of your hand.

“It’s just a question.” You muttered and poured slightly.

He sat back on the edge of a table behind him, allowing for a more even eye line. But even at the new lowered height, he was definitely taller than you.

“How can anyone focus around you?” He said with a shake of his head.

“I can put the mask on, if it helps.” You offered awkwardly, reaching for the side pouch you usually tucked it away in.

Miguel looked back at you and laughed. A seemingly genuine sound that, up until that moment, you weren’t entirely sure was possible.

You took the opportunity to move away from the edge of the platform and stand more in front of him. Your hands rested lazily behind you and you simply looked at him for a minute.

The obvious physical stature was still as intimidating as ever but there was something in his expression. Something haunted, something guilty. However, when his eyes met yours, there was a softness there. A certain longing.

How does anyone focus around you? You thought as you took in his features for a little longer.

“You always stare like that when you’re not talking?” His brows raised with a slight smile as his arms crossed over his chest.

“Not usually.” You answered with a shrug of one shoulder in an attempt to ignore the blush creeping across your cheeks. “I take it you didn’t find what you were looking for with my hand, but you didn’t send me away again so maybe that was a good thing… Maybe I can…”

“Go ahead and ask your questions.” He nodded, adding a tired sigh at the end as if to say he was giving in. You thought he was curious as to what you wanted to know.

“What’s the big deal about my teeth?”

“Your teeth..” He chuckled slightly. “Most of the spiders around here don’t have fangs, cariño.”

“Right but why do you care?”

“Cause I have them too.”

“What do yours do?”

“Paralysis. Yours?”

“Dunno.” You confessed. “I’ve never bit anyone. Can I see?”

“No.”

“C’mon!”

“No.”

“Fine.”

You flicked a web at his chest and yanked him to lean forward, earning a small Spanish exclamation from him. You kept hold of the web with one hand and put the other on his shoulder as you leaned in slightly. His eyes darted between yours in slight shock before he broke into a small smile, enough for you to see a moderately more pronounced version of the same teeth in your mouth.

“Woah.” You said quietly as your eyes drifted to where your webs met his suit. “Wait..”

“What is it?” He asked lowly and the tone sent a shiver down your spine.

“Your suit. It’s all tech?”

“Mhmm.”

“That’s so cool.” You breathed with a smile, which faded as you squinted and noticed a falter in the colors. “It’s like a projection, which means if I…” You gave another slight tug on your web and watched the distortion of the colors where your palm was pressed against him. You laughed slightly before looking back at Miguel.

The web suddenly snapped and you stumbled backwards. You looked down and saw the excess still wrapped around your wrist. The tensile strength was much stronger than that so it shouldn’t have betrayed you so suddenly. It had never failed before. Turning your head back to Miguel, you saw the projections from the pads of his fingers.

“You were looking for claws?” Your brows raised as your head jerked towards his hand. “You could’ve asked.”

He simply shrugged.

“Let me ask you something…” He said calmly as he leaned back to his originally sitting position. “Why do you wanna be here so bad?”

“Good girl.” You gestured to yourself. “Sad boy.” You gestured to him and he shook his head with a scoff. You offered a small smile before wandering in a small circle, your back now to Miguel. “We all have this one thing going on.. And it’s always one thing after another, situations and circumstances and miscommunications. Losing people and losing fights, it’s all part of the job but… Honestly, I don’t know why. Maybe I just like the idea of not being alone, of not being the only one.”

You turned back to face him and saw he hadn’t looked away.

“It’d be nice to not be the only one with fangs, either.” You smiled, flashing your pointed teeth.

“You never told me why you’re wet.” He commented after a brief moment of silence.

“Oh.” You laughed nervously. “Funny story.”

You heard the muttered complaints come down the hall at the same time the tingle of another spider person hit your skin. Your eyes went wide when Lyla popped up in front of you, glaring at you with tightly crossed arms. You offered an innocent smile with hands up in surrender.

“Y/N!” Pavitr yelled with a wide grin as he entered the room, Hobie sulking behind him. The boy turned and began patting his friend’s shoulder excitedly. “It worked!”

“What worked?” Miguel turned to you.

“Those two-“ Lyla said angrily as she appeared in front of Miguel and pointed at the two spidermen. “-set of a fire alarm in the training center.”

“And that was your idea?” He looked to you again.

“Nah, mate.” Hobie answered casually. “Was all me.”

“You?” He shouted and then wiped a hand down his face. “I don’t- I can’t deal with you right now. Both of you, go help mop up and dry the training center. Just- Get out of my sight.”

Hobie offered you a salute before sauntering out, Pavitr quick on his heels. You smiled to yourself before you hopped off the platform, shooting a quick web to help control your descent.

“Where are you going?” Miguel called after you, causing your stride to pause. You spun to face him with a playful smile.

“To help clean up.. They did it so I could talk to you, after all.” You shrugged.

“Come back here when you’re done.” He tossed a device your way, the same device the other spiders had around their wrists.

“Gonna miss me already?” You teased as you fit it to your wrist, replacing the temporary band you were given.

“Always, cariño.”

You realized you hadn’t found out anything in regards to who you looked like from Miguel’s past, but with the confirmation that you’d come back, you figured you’d find out in time.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #spiderman fanfic #spiderman 2099 #2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 fic #across the spiderverse #smatsv #across the spiderverse fic #spiderverse fic #spiderverse x reader

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benevadeca · 7 days ago

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A common fanfic trope I've seen to meow meow SJ is to make him neglectful to LBH instead of actively malicious. And I get the main rationales for it being A. The child abuse is the one hard action to justify B. If basically all the other shit he did was misunderstandings he failed to clarify it's a reasonable leap to make C. Bro ultimate hater moment how did he even have the energy to specifically target a 12 yo to the pt of working to make a fake cultivation manual that could kill him. This man is fr running on 4 hrs of sleep a week how does he have the energy. Like his favoritism is a fr trait so ofc his singled out i need to throw hands w that 12 yo would be fr but I get why sometimes people consider the degree of it to be cartoonish.

However I think that woobification could be good if it ever actually acknowledge A. Neglect is a form of abuse in fact and B. Ming fan being the scapegoat in those fics like damn maybe emotionally neglecting the teenagers under yr purview leads to issues like 'feeling the need to actively harm the competition'. Which is a fun and interesting kind of way for MF to suffer. MF being a bully bc he has learnt it is free of repercussion and actively encouraged by the figure of power he admires and who has authority over him VS MF being a bully as a form of acting out bc the only present adult figure in his life is emotionally checked out at best and actively neglectful at worst.

Idk just SJ's abuse intentionally targeted at one guy VS unintentionally causing his teenagers to feel the need to go lord of the flies for acknowledgement. Is funny. And I haven't rly seen one that goes the SJ didn't do as much abuse as claimed route that doesn't just go full tilt into oh and MF was the REAL bad guy like bro he's like 13.

#mine #svsss #re cartoonish degree of haterism and i can see it go both ways in a yeah he is a clown / airplane wrote him to be like that and he is #contrived by plot to be a major dick etc. many such airplane style plot contrivances however #re why is mf head disciple when he is like 12. what are the enrollment and dropout numbers of magical immortality school and why are #they so low despite the yearly trials or whatever to get in #also does anyone even join qing jing after LBH or did everyone just see what was going on there is both pidw and svsss timelines and go #idk that's scary and not let him take any more kids #shen jiu

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sorrowsofsilence · 8 months ago

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Cymbal-ism • Folio

Pairing: Nick Folio x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: smut 18+ (unprotected pnv, pls wrap it b4 u tap it; male!recieving, slight degrading, rough!folio) enemies to lovers, arguing/bickering

Prompt: You're the new bad omens drum tech, and Nick Folio sure does get on your nerves. Is he a pain in the ass? Or is it the fact you two have some un-discussed sexual tension? Sent via anon

Author note: its hella late, ive had three margaritas, and this is not proofread lol

THIS IS A FANFIC USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THAT THIS PERSON WOULD DO THIS IRL OR ACT LIKE THIS! ITS FICTION!

“You’re fucking insufferable,” you muttered under your breath as you brushed passed the short-haired brunette, shoulders knocking against him.

He scoffed, his dark brows narrowing as he hollered after you down the hallway, “Huh? What did you say?”

You glanced his way, flashing him the middle finger with a sarcastic smile while you opened the studio door, before slamming it loudly behind you in frustration.

Nick fucking Folio.

You two got off on the wrong foot the first day you met him two weeks ago. You had bought coffee for the team as a kind gesture, hoping to make a great first impression since you would be with them around Europe for two months.

However, shit hit the fan when you and Folio collided in the hallway as you got off the elevator, spilling the drinks all over him, and immediately giving him a childish vendetta.

To him, if his new drum tech was that clumsy, this tour would be the longest two months of his life. But to you, he was the one who entered the elevator looking down at his phone, not paying attention.

And even though you two barely knew each other, he already made your blood boil.

Perhaps it was the fact he was always trying to nit-pick every little thing you did or the way his attitude was always witty, having a sarcastic retort for everything you said.

It’s also possible it was the way Jolly, your childhood best friend and how you landed the job in the first place, was constantly teasing you about the sexual tension budding between you and Folio.

Or deep down, you thought that maybe it was the way Nick’s annoyingly perfect hair slicked back so effortlessly, or how flawless his ochre eyes were when he glared at you, the deep abyss titillating every time his brows furrowed in your direction.

Everything about him, and to do with him, pissed you off.

But it made you even more mad that you found him extremely attractive, his presence making your heart pound with anger and infatuation.

Nick stormed into the room, kicking the door closed with his foot, “If you’re going to insult me just do it to my face, you coward.”

“Wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings,” you said, kneeling next to the drum kit, loosening bolts on the boom stand.

Folio hovered over you, analyzing your movements as you adjusted the cymbals, taking them down one by one to place them in their cases. There was less than an hour until sound check, and none of the drum gear was moved from the studio room to the stage- thanks to somebody.

Groaning, you stopped to look up at him in annoyance, “I’m glad you think I’m pretty Folio, but maybe you can take your eyes off me and help? Instead of ogling?”

He scoffed, shaking his head as he started sliding the copper off of the loosened bars, “I’m just making sure you’re not fucking up my set.”

“Sure buddy,” you said, standing up and starting to unscrew the kick drum.

The two of you worked in tense silence, the air thick as miffed glances were shared taking apart the kit.

You tried not to watch the way his arms would flex as he twisted the rack tom, tattoos glistening slightly as the room heated.

You averted your eyes for a final time when they met his once again, stacking the cases onto the trolly to wheel it out to the stage.

Folio pushed passed you to grab the handles, ready to cart it down the hall even though it was your job.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” You asked as you trailed way too closely behind him, just to push his buttons. The smell of his faint cologne and slight musk of weed on his tanktop left your heart picking up pace.

“Of course I do,” He mumbled, about to walk past the stage entrance.

“To the left- the left-” you shook your head, staring at him with disdain, as he completely ignored you and continued walking, “Oh my god- Folio! it was left!”

You heard a chuckle behind you as Jolly and Ruffilo walked down the hall, stopping at the backstage door as they watched you humorously.

Rolling your head back you gave them an exasperated look, sighing audibly.

“You two ok?” Jolly smiled, folding his arms.

Shaking your head in frustration you bitterly laughed, “He is the biggest pain in my ass. I’m seriously debating quitting the industry as a whole.”

Ruffilo snickered, glancing at Jolly and then Folio, “He only does that because he thinks you’re cute.”

“Excuse me-” Nick interjected, shaking his head in disagreement, “I’d rather kiss a wall for five hours. At least it would be quiet.”

Shooting them a pointed look you walked passed the boys as they chuckled, letting Folio follow you onto the stage.

It only took about ten minutes to set the kit back up before you sat on the stool, practicing a few solos to test the position.

Nick watched in irritation from the side, but what you didn’t know was under all that show, was an immense amount of admiration. The brunette loved watching you play. He was always impressed with your coordination and keen ear, the ability for you to instantly stop playing and slightly adjust a drum before falling right back into a quick rhythm, breathtaking.

He’d never want to admit how good you are; but he would always be biting back a smile as he watched you test out his kit for him, making sure it was set and tuned to perfection.

You sighed once you finished your adjustments, before tossing Nick the sticks.

“All yours pretty boy.”

“Don’t call me that,” He huffed, before looking at the kit, “Also, your dumb ass forgot the hi-hat.”

Not believing him at first you glanced at the drums before swiftly swearing to yourself.

He was right.

Getting up you pushed past Nick, but he followed you back down to the studio, an annoyed murmuring coming from your mouth. As you entered through the door Folio closed it behind you, locking it.

“Nick seriously what-” You began, but were cut off by the brunette.

“God, do you ever shut that annoying fucking mouth of yours?” He said, standing close to you as he leaned forward, eyes narrowed.

“If it’s so annoying to you, make me,” You scoffed, tilting your head to the side.

The proximity of Nick subconsciously began to make your face warm as you backed up from him, but he was right on your trail.

You hit the soft padded wall of the studio, Folio’s body millimetres from pinning yours against the surface.

The tension grew as you both stared at each other with hatred.

“Fuck, you.” Nick spat, false venom dripping off his words.

Without hesitating you sneered, “You wouldn’t, pussy.”

It took all of two seconds before his auburn eyes flicked to your lips, a greedy hand reaching up and gripping your jaw as his mouth attached to yours.

It didn’t take long before you melted into Nick’s touch, angry at how good his tongue felt swiping against yours, the grip on your face tightening as his other hand reached to grip a fist full of your hair at the back of your head.

Fury, hatred, and lust fueled the fire between you two as your fingers gripped his belt loops, tugging his hips toward you as you began rutting against him.

You wanted nothing more than to claw down his skin, begging to dig your nails across the ivory and ink, embedding your mark. You wanted him to wince in a mix of pain and pleasure as your imprint but decided that grazing your teeth along his lips would have to do.

Nick moaned into you, quite literally ready to tear your shirt off, tempted to rip the cloth from its seam and destroy the fabric; but he withheld himself, aware that the two of you were hallways away from the exit to the tour bus.

The two of you pulled away panting, catching your breath.

“What the hell are we-”

Nick stared into your eyes, attempting to shift his desire into a glare as he leaned down to bite against your neck, nipping and kissing down the skin, “Just shut up, for five minutes. Please.”

A small whimper escaped you as his tongue grazed your collarbone, Folio’s fingers fiddling with the button on your jeans. You shimmed the fabric down your legs, kicking it off as you tugged at his tanktop, pulling it over his head.

His fingers gripped your hips, pulling them toward his own as he rubbed against your underwear, the bulge and stiffened desire evidence of how badly he wanted this. Reaching for the bottom of your shirt you tore it off your torso, exposing your chest.

Folio pushed your hips into the wall as his fingers danced along the hem of the thong you wore, threatening to dip lower to where you wanted him most.

“Please,” You whispered, desperation falling from your tone.

Folio shook his head, almost throwing his head back in humour, “We need to do something about your mouth.”

He pushed your shoulders, beckoning you to the ground before pulling his belt from the clasp. Freeing himself from his jeans, you watched hungrily as he gripped the back of your head, lining up his hardened desire to your lips.

“Open. Now.”

You obeyed, too turned on to fight back his commands. Wrapping around him you began to suck along the skin, closing your eyes as you relished in the feeling of how hard he was, all for this.

You reached up to stroke the base but he gripped your wrist, holding you in place as his hips thrust forward. He took complete control of how fast and how deep he went, using you to his desire.

“Your whore mouth exists for me to fuck,” Nick swore, his other hand holding the base of your neck as if feeling for himself through your skin, “All that backtalk can be shoved right down your pretty throat.”

Moaning at his words you closed your eyes, gagging on Nick’s thrusts as you took your free hand between your thighs, allowing yourself to slide past your panties to trace small circles against the skin.

Your arousal coated your fingers as your hips rutted against your hand, Nick’s fingers leaving your wrist to grip the back of your head. He pushed you down further on him, your eyes watering as he forced you to gag along his cock.

Air dissipated from your lungs, your body shuddering from the lack of oxygen momentarily before Nick pulled you away, causing you to cough.

“Fuck,” he groaned, almost chuckling.

You licked and sucked against him for a moment longer, before he pulled you up, gripping your hips. He kissed you desperately again for a few more minutes as his cock pressed against your thigh, before you pulled away, a hand against his chest.

“Are you going to just kiss me, or fuck me like you said you would?” You pushed, your hand gripping his erection, fingers dancing across his skin.

Nick moaned into your lips again before taking his hand between your thighs, slipping his fingers between your folds as he prepared your body for his, “Don’t make it a challenge, or you won’t be able to walk after.”

The brunette lifted your leg, gripping underneath your thigh as he hoisted it up to his hip, positioning himself against your arousal. It was a matter of seconds before he slid between you, your body taking him eagerly as your head fell back, mouth agape at the sensation.

He filled you fully, satiating the hunger you always had for the drummer as he began to thrust into your core, pounding senselessly. The angle gave him access to where you wanted him most, soft cries heaving from your chest as your brows furrowed.

Frustration dissipated into pleasure as Nick gave you everything, fucking you with complete adoration and need. Your nails gripped his shoulders, digging into the skin with haste as you rested your forehead against his neck.

“I hate how gorgeous I think you are,” Nick mumbled into your ear, soft groans escaping him.

Your laugh turned into a moan as his fingers trailed to stimulate you while he thrust, your body convulsing from the bliss, “I hate your perfect laugh, and how you have a lopsided smile.”

“I hate how talented you are.”

“I hate the way your eyes light up when you’re happy.”

“I hate how you walk with a skip when you’re excited.”

Your eyes lidded as Nick gripped the back of your head, forcing you to watch him as he spit on himself, lubricating your combined story as you pushed into him to meet his hips.

His thrusts began to waver as you clenched around him, the stimulation from his cock and fingers causing your legs to shake. Nick was close himself, trying to push you to the edge first before allowing himself release.

“I h-hate how-” You tried to get out your words as complete bliss took over, but Folio’s lips attached to yours once again, his pace never ceasing through your orgasm. Your walls engulfed him as Nick succumbed to you, his breathing staggered and haste as his chest vibrated in contentment.

His hips jerked into you as he allowed himself relief, taking over your body.

You watched him for a moment before his eyes met yours, lips agape in a pant.

The brunette shook his head as his fingers squeezed the skin along your torso, “We have two minutes till sound check.”

“Of course, you’re making us late,” you frowned.

“Oh shut the fuck up.”

Tags: @sammyjoeee @spicywhenspeaking @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @foliosgirl @thatchickwiththecamera @blackveilomens @xserenax-13

#nick folio fic #nick folio fanfiction #nick folio smut #nick folio x reader #Nick folio #nick folio bad omens #bad omens smut #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #sorrows of silence #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers smut

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siddyyyyyyyy · 27 days ago

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Unfocused

Roy Harper x Reader

wc: 1.1 k summary: Jason is fed up with how unfocused Roy is getting. warnings: no y/n used, fluff mostly, kinda crackfic?, lots of cussing, hints of previous night activities a/n: this is a drabble but it contains the backstory from Brother's Bestfriend ! hope you enjoy!! divider: @xurengu0

The rain of bullets hit the other side of the car as Jason and Roy hide behind it. It‘s not the best coverage, so they‘ll need to flee soon. Once the goons are reloading their guns, and the assault of bullets is briefly paused, they use their opportunity to run away from the open field. In the midst of it all, Roy doesn‘t see the flash grenade that‘s being thrown at them and almost steps right over it. Jason has to jump at him and tackle him down to create distance together from it. A heavy grunt leaves the red head and he‘s ready to be mad at Jason‘s unreasonable attack, until Jason yells at him first.

»Are you fucking stupid?! Couldn‘t see that fucking flash being thrown at us?«

They don‘t have enough time to argue over it as the goons are starting to catch up with them, clearly satisfied that their distraction worked.

The pair scrambles to their feet and manage to get onto a rooftop without any further complaint. »Focus, dammit!« Jason exclaims back at his partner one last time before they get going with the current plan.

With a silent grunt, Roy squeezes his upper arm and checks his injury. His head thumps back against the container, still trying to catch his breath from the chase. Jason paces small circles until he finally stops and towers over Roy, his frown not evident due to his mask, but Roy can feel it anyway.

»I swear, I will shove my gun so far up your ass, it will get stuck and you can never shit normally again, if you do that one more time,« finally, he exhales after holding his anger in during the run, »What was that anyway? Did you fall asleep earlier?«

Jason cocks his head to the side, resting his hands on his hips like a disappointed parent would. Roy doesn‘t feel too scared, though, simply rubbing the back of his neck with his good hand.

»Was thinking of something. Sorry.« He tries to dismiss it without any further argument, not in the mood to cause any more unecessary anger.

It‘s quiet for a moment until Jason speaks up first, his voice more judgemental than before.

»What‘s tha‘ on your neck?« He regrets asking that in the first place, he doesn‘t even want to know now. The way his best friend tilts his head away from Jason says enough. His cap blocks the sight of his eyes and cheeks, but he is sure that Roy is currently blushing.

A heavy sigh, »Oh, c‘mon… are ya‘ll that freaky?« followed by a, »I should‘ve guessed...«

It‘s clear that Jason is at least a little disappointed at his best friend and his sister, you. The fact that Roy got distracted in the first place, made Jason rather concerned than mad. But to know the real reason of the distraction… it made him want to rip his ass apart and try to lecture you on your actions. Jason knows that couples do… things. But he wasn‘t prepared to see the evidence on his best friend. Especially during a mission that failed. However, he doesn‘t want to prod on it any longer and nods towards the exit of the alleyway.

»I will definitely shove my gun up your ass...«

↣

At first, Jason didn‘t want to let Roy tag along into his apartment, but he couldn‘t deny him after some more arguing. You are already comfortably seated in the couch with a warm cup of tea and watch the newest trash TV in your shared apartment. It‘s nice and warm, being wrapped inside a fuzzy blanket as you get lost in the show. The click of the window snaps you back, looking over to the bigger window in the same room. Red Hood greets you first, although he doesn‘t say anything, just lowly grunting as he climbs inside. Arsenal follows up, bringing a smile to your face. You don‘t see it, but Jason rolls his eyes under his mask, taking a straight route to his bedroom; probably to cool off.

Your smile softens as Roy steps in front of you by the couch, arms spread open as if expecting a hug from you. However, he doesn‘t get it as you stay seated in your blanket with the cup of tea.

»Too warm to stand up.«

He shakes his head and instead flops down beside you, head planted in your lap after taking his cap off. You watch as he closes his eyes and relaxes into the cushion and your lap, a low sigh leaving him. Jason seems to be taking a shower in the meantime, giving you two some more time to be alone.

»How was the mission?« You ask out of curiousity as you tangle a hand into his hair, watching his relaxed expression.

»Bad. Got distracted, we didn‘t get anything from these guys...« He sighs out before opening his eyes to look up at you from your lap. »Why were you distracted?« But before he could answer you, Jason steps out of the shower and reenters the living room.

»Yeah, Roy, why were you distracted?«

You think that Jason is simply mocking Roy because he‘s still mad, but in reality, Jason just wants to verbally abuse his best friend, since he can never look into his eyes the same again.

Jason moves to sit between you and Roy, arms crossed and eyes trained onto the TV, even though he doesn‘t seem focused on it. This makes you scoff lightly and scoot away from your brother, sipping onto your tea.

»Give him a break, I‘m sure it was just a small slip-up.« You shrug and don‘t expect much from the both of them, simply hoping that Jason will stop being so annoying. However, he only gets a bit more aggravated from it.

»Small slip-up… if you two just— okay. I won‘t say it, but you guys need to get it together.«

It‘s almost funny how allergic Jason is to saying some specific words and it almost makes you let out a soft chuckle. Before you realise what he means. You clear your throat in light embarrassment and pull your blanket higher up to your chin, not wanting to let him find out more. A rather awkward silence settles between you three, eventually turning the volume up from the TV.

Jason stays seated between you two, until he finally releases a more softer huff. »I get grey hair because of you, I‘m not even joking.« He shakes his head lightly until he leans back further into the couch, resting his head on Roy‘s shoulder. You notice and quirk an eyebrow at him, scoffing lightly.

»Hey, that‘s my boyfriend!«

»Shut up, he‘s not allowed to be near you until he behaves.«

Roy shrugs with a light huff, unsure if he should laugh or cry with how stupidly protective Jason is being.

»I didn‘t even do anything!«

»Remember what I said about my gun?«

a/n: made this under an hour, it's wobbly and strange, but i had to get this out of my mind

←MASTERLIST

#dc comics #x reader #drabble #fanfic #batfamily #jason todd #roy harper #roy harper x reader #arsenal #roy harper x you #red arrow #roy harper fluff #brother's best friend #one shot #masterlist

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