#fic: black cat winter
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clowningaroundmars · 6 days ago
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some more hobie1610! :)
i luv this little bug just bc i love mj and i LOVE LOVE LOVE hobie! i simply couldn't resist 🩷
in the story, i tried mashing together a bunch of different references for his character, while still trying to stay true to the character of mary jane watson but also not sacrificing too much of hobie brown. i hope i… did a good enough job?
more under the cut :)
☆ hobie1610 is a supermodel-in-training inspired by mj watson's dreams of being a model and an actress. except in 1610, mj has these dreams forced onto him rather than aspiring to be them. he's living mj watson's dreams and hates it lol
☆ hobie1610 has a strained relationship with his family, true to mj watson's awful family dynamics in canon. it just... runs in every mj's blood i guess lmao
☆ hobie1610 wants so badly to be an investigative journalist! his plan after graduating from visions is to land an internship at the daily bugle :)
☆ he also gets up to mechanical shenanigans in his free time, fixing and building whatever he can get his hands on. he's very handy with machines and tech, true to the original characterization of hobie brown on earth-616, except on earth-1610 he usually has to hide his tools and gadgets
☆ his favorite subjects in school are english lit and physics!
☆ i gave hobie1610 uniform locs to look like mj's signature long hair but also to directly contrast hobie138's freeform locs
☆ if hobie1610 were to ever meet hobie138, he'd seethe and mald with jealousy. just like miles, mj's biggest wish is for his family to stop stacking so much pressure on his shoulders all the time. seeing another version of him living the free anarchist life would def have him feeling a type of way
hobie meeting mj: oh wow... nearly forgot what my face looks like without m' piercings lol :p
mj meeting hobie: I'M BRITISH IN THIS DIMENSION?!
☆ but he's a hobie alright! he rebels as often as he can in the typical ways teens with strict parents do. no one is putting this guy's flame out 🔥
☆ most of that rebellion consists of sneaking out when he knows he shouldn't. his mother is strict, but she's often very busy and that gives hobie1610 many chances to slip away unnoticed. his bravery is inspired by mj's character in the spiderman ps4 game, where she gets involved in dangerous missions with peter. those gameplay scenes with her in the museum inspired the 3rd chapter of my hobie1610 story
☆ hobie1610's sense of humor is more like zendaya's mj than anyone else
☆ the concept of hobie being miles' mj didn't entirely come out of nowhere! it wasn't just abt punkflower-- the possibility came up when i remembered that andrew garfield claimed he wanted his spiderman's mj to be a man. specifically played by michael b jordan ;)
☆ hobie1610's casual wardrobe outside of visions and his photoshoots consists of mostly greens and earth tones. most mj's across various diff portrayals have green or earth tones in their casual fits
references ↓
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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 3 months ago
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FIREFLIES NEVER CAME ; SATORU GOJO
synopsis; your seat is close to the heater. that’s the only reason gojo comes there to warm up.
word count; 4.2k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, teen!satoru, set in a canon au, mutual pining, fluff, a little bittersweet (melancholic winter vibes <3), introvert/extrovert, reader is antisocial and dense as a brick (black cat vibes :3), also kind of self-deprecating, satoru is very shoujo manga coded, just lots of puppy love!! feat. wingman!suguru <3
a/n; this wasn’t meant to be a fic …… it was gonna be really short and sweet ……… (T_T) anyway i am very fond of this reader/character dynamic so i hope you enjoy reading abt my emotionally stunted kids 🫶 biggest mwah in the world dedicated to professor logan (@staryukis) for teaching me about physics so i could find a loophole in satoru’s infinity :3c all for the sake of lore-accurate (kinda) fluff <3
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”what are you listening to?”
your seat is close to the heater. 
it was nothing but a lucky draw, really. yaga-sensei was organizing the desks when you transferred, and so he gave you the first choice; one you had no trouble making, latching on to the chair in the very back, right by the window, right by the sole heater of the room. vital for surviving your chilly winter classes. 
so there you sit. a warmth sneaks through your fuzzy socks, tends to your restless legs. your feet tap and tap, on the cold floorboards, in rhythm with your never-ending thoughts, spinning like a planet in orbit.
through the fogged-up, frosted glass of the window to your left, you observe the world. headphones covering your ears, safe and snug, muffling all noise. you watch as snow falls, wholly entranced, eyes stuck on the icy snowflakes descending from the wool-gray sky — blanketing the frostbitten landscape of the courtyard. it’s pretty, all those skeletal trees, glittering and gleaming like they have something to say. sometimes they look like stars.
”… hey. did you hear me?”
gojo is being particularly chatty, today.
out of the corner of your eye, you see him wave his hand right in front of your face. you’re almost certain he doesn’t realize that it’s rude; he must be used to all eyes being on him, from the moment he speaks.
with a flutter of your lashes, you lift your weary head. meeting his gaze, the blurry shine of your own visage, reflected in his circle-frame glasses. a soft tilt of his head, and then his lips are twitching upwards, just barely, snowy strands gliding across his forehead and falling over his face. like an excited puppy.
”what are you listening to?”
you read the words off his lips, all sound muffled by your headphones. quick to lift one of your hands, pulling one of the heavy ear cushions away — letting all white noise in the room flood your senses. the snarls of the wind outside, ieiri’s laughter, the scribbling of geto’s pen against paper. 
it’s overwhelming, but a small price to pay. his voice is softer than usual, during moments like these; there’s a pleasant lull to it.
gojo tips his head to the right, still awaiting your response. all you can do is stare, watching your own reflection, fingers gripping onto the edge of your desk. as if seeking to ground yourself.
with a spoonful of hesitance, you part your lips.
”… do you like music?”
the words seep out into the air, a softly exhaled breath. gojo watches you, silently, for just a moment.
then he gives you a shrug.
”i guess?” he hums, shifting his weight from one foot to another — hand slipping into the pocket of his uniform. ”that’s more suguru’s thing.”
ah.
your mouth forms around the syllable, as if responding, but not making any sound. gaze fleeing from his glasses, crumbling under their weight, straying towards the frosted window to your left. safe, familiar, rotting trees and twitching branches. snow just as pure as the boy in front of you.
silence overtakes you both, once more. 
”... not gonna answer?” he asks, with another tilt of his head, absently rocking side to side as he lets out an exhale. ”is it a secret, or something?”
(it is, you think. but you can’t say it out loud.)
before you can part your lips again, the classroom door slides open — and you know it’s yaga-sensei just by the way his feet hit the floorboards, the decisive weight behind every step. you know even before he’s telling you to get back to your seats. 
on cue, gojo stands up straighter, shooting you another glance. bright-eyed, easy-going, every star in the sky leaping out from the glimpse you get of his eyes when he angles his body. two blue pools, flecked with white, like frozen puddles in the street. 
and then he’s strolling away.
gojo leaves, and you take off your headphones; stretching your legs underneath the desk. reaching for your ballpoint pencil, flipping open your textbook, and indulging in sleepy blinks, as yaga begins to drone on and on. you stifle a yawn with the sleeve of your blazer, resting your jaw on the heel of your palm. eyes inevitably straying towards a head of white hair.
but your name is called before you can get lost in your daydreams. 
”page 27, from the top.”
your chair scrapes against the floorboards, as you sluggishly stand up. holding onto your textbook, flipping the pages until you land on the correct passage. with shaky hands, not enough to notice, you read out loud; voice controlled, almost monotone. all you can think is that you feel his frost-clad eyes on you, from the row straight ahead.
but you continue to speak. you speak until you reach the end of the page, until you’re allowed to take your seat again, happy to feel the warmth of the heater radiate against your legs. it’s this warmth that’s important, the most important thing of all.
without it, gojo wouldn’t bother to stop by your desk.
nearly every recess, as soon as yaga leaves the classroom, he’s waltzing over — leaning against the wall, stretching his arms out, purring contentedly as heat spreads throughout his body. you think he must run cold. chatting with you, just to pass the time, just until your teacher comes back. just to warm up.
then he’s leaving, again.
that’s all it is. a cold boy, and a heater by your desk — a conversation that otherwise wouldn’t have occured. even the strongest is vulnerable to changes in temperature, you suppose.
though if warmth is all that binds him to you, it’s bound to dwindle away.
(you’re sure he’ll stop as soon as spring comes.)
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the next day, gojo is nowhere to be seen. you saw yaga-sensei drag him out of the classroom this morning; something about a clan meeting, something you weren’t paying attention to.
but now you wish you had.
(it’s quiet, without him around. eerily so.)
with nothing to lose, and nothing else to do — you push your chair away from your desk, and walk up to your classmate, a question on your mind.
”… music? are you looking for recommendations?”
you nod. 
geto blinks. caught off guard, you’re sure, surprised that you’d approach him without any prior coaxing. he’s usually the one striking up a conversation with you, like a responsible class president, making sure the weird kid doesn’t feel left out. you’re almost certain he doesn’t realize that it’s patronizing.
”hmm... well, that depends.” he gives you a smile, soft around the edges. it never feels as genuine as gojo’s, but it’s calming. ”what kind of music do you usually listen to?”
you glance down at the floor. bundling up the cuffs of your uniform, fingers clawing softly at the fabric, bottom lip trapped between two sets of teeth.
”… what kind of music does gojo like?”
silence. your words are barely spoken, just above a whisper, just like always, but geto picks up on them anyway. you can tell he does, can feel the weight of his keen eyes on your face. analytical.
then he parts his lips.
”… ohhh.” a low hum, ripe with meaning, buzzing at the bottom of his throat. the corners of his lips quirk up into a knowing smile. ”i see.”
heat rushes to your cheeks, blossoms under your skin. if he notices, he’s even more composed than you thought he was, because he doesn’t mention it. only continues to speak, in that soothing voice, crossing his arms in silent thought.
”hmm…” you follow his gaze, out towards the window, the same webs of frost as always. it’s not snowing, but you still can’t see the blue of the sky. ”i’ve never seen him listen to music before, so i wouldn’t know.”
you can’t help but deflate, at that.
geto only smiles. exhaling, through his nose, mildly humoured — though he’s good at hiding his amusement. ”… what do you think that means?”
a blink. your lashes flutter, as you gaze up at him. 
”… huh?”
”satoru doesn’t listen to music, but he wants to know what you’re listening to.” he says the words almost coachingly, like he’s listing off a string of numbers. you realize he must have been listening in on your conversation, but it doesn’t bother you nearly as much as his tone. ”what do you think that means?”
(you haven’t got a clue.)
geto lets out a chuckle, laced with mirth, no longer trying to hide it. paired with a soft shake of his head, a crinkle to the corners of his eyes. ”why do you want to know about his taste in music, then?”
(… that’s a good question.)
he seems to notice your hesitance, your apprehension, the way your teeth seek to trap your bottom lip; always the victim of your muddled mind. you know the answer, of course you do — but it isn’t something you want others knowing. 
thankfully, geto breaks the silence for you.
”i don’t think you need to try so hard, when it comes to him.” his voice is soft, almost sincere, something warmer than usual. glancing away when you meet his eyes. ”… he isn’t worth the effort, anyway.”
but that’s where he’s wrong.
satoru gojo is a special case. a special person. in the orbit of your life, there’s no star you’d rather keep — no one quite as ripe with colour. 
geto couldn’t possibly understand, because gojo is always with him — always orbiting around him. he always will, until you graduate, probably even beyond that. geto has him. they’re the strongest, a pair, always matching their steps to one another. but you only have these quiet days, these chilly classes in between never-ending missions — and that’s all.
when the frost outside the window thaws, gojo will surely stop visiting your desk. your lonely little world. 
that’s exactly why — you need to find a song. if you just teach him about something wonderful enough, if you can give him something other than warmth…
(… maybe he’ll stay with you even after spring comes.)
”next time, why don’t you say what’s on your mind?” 
geto’s suggestion breaks you out of your thoughts. when you raise your head, to meet the warm pools of amber in his eyes, he gives you a smile. there’s nothing patronizing about the way he’s looking at you now — if anything, you think it may even be slightly fond, but you can never tell what he’s actually feeling. he’s frightening, like that, always a mirror to his circumstances. a chameleon, tilting his head at you.
… though you can’t help but fall victim to the kindness in his eyes. the velveteen purr of his voice.
”i’m sure he’ll appreciate that.”
a nervous pit opens up in your chest, an empty space that gnaws incessantly at your heart. will he?, you want to ask, but it feels like the words are made out of lead. you can’t get them out of your throat.
”… okay,” is all you end up whispering, a soft lull of your tongue. ”i’ll try… thank you.”
geto rewards you with a full smile.
”don’t mention it.”
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spring is closer than you thought.
it’s all you can think, when you step onto the pavement, when you feel the morning air gnaw at your frostbitten cheeks. it’s freezing, it’s winter, but the signs of changing seasons are still there — a lonesome snowdrop, the crackle of an icy puddle beneath your feet. the frost is beginning to thaw. 
in a month or so, spring will be here — there’s no stopping it.
”did you bring your card?”
your headphones rest around your neck, allowing you to listen in on your classmates' conversation. all four of you are together, for once, all first-years, walking towards the nearest konbini — at gojo’s insistence. 
it’s been a week since you had that talk with geto, but you still haven’t made any progress with him.
”huh? was i supposed to?”
”… are you kidding me?”
you glance up at the pair. always walking just a little bit ahead, their tall statures obscuring the view in front of you; shoko lags behind, with lazy steps, a trail of tobacco drifting out into the crispy air. all while snowflakes fall from the sky, gently, landing in your hair, on your shoulders, melting on the inside of your palm when you hold it out to catch them. watching as they turn into droplets of water, slip through the gaps between your fingers. 
someone taps your shoulder.
geto has snowflakes stuck in his hair. they’re melting, in the strands of ink-black framing his face, matching the colour of the thick polo jacket he’s wearing. a bright red scarf is tied around his throat, and there’s a weighty look in his eyes — something telling.
a silent cue.
he falls back, slowly but surely, into ieiri’s lazy pace. not before murmuring something unintelligible to gojo, and shooting you a wink — one that makes you frown, confused, a low heat blooming at the base of your spine and crawling up your neck.
and then you realize what he’s done.
gojo is looking right at you, through the black glass of his specs. only wearing a baseball jacket, no gloves or scarves to keep him warm, despite the harsh bite of the open air. for a guy who runs cold, he must not put much thought into his clothing. 
more importantly…
it’s just the two of you, now.
you blink at him, silent as a mouse. it only takes a moment for him to start moving, for you to follow, taking your place beside him while staring right ahead. if he’s bothered by geto slinking away, he doesn’t show it — only continues to walk.
”… that’s so unfair.”
gojo’s voice breaks the silence. you turn your head to gaze at him, the way his lips wrap around the vowels, haphazardly hanging onto every word he speaks.
”just ’cause i have clan money,” he kicks at a pebble on the side of the road, wisps of white hair swaying with a shake of his head, ”suguru thinks i should pay for our snacks. isn’t that unfair?”
you hesitate. then you nod along, absently.
he seems to take that as a yes, because it makes him brighten — as if gleaming with your approval, standing a little straighter, puffing out his chest with an exhale that turns into white smoke.
”right? they only give it to me because they want me to come back to kyoto, anyway…” he trails off, holding the tip of his tongue between his lips. ”… not that it matters. anyway, i just think he’s oppressive.”
”… mm.”
from this angle, you can see a sliver of his eyes. can see the way he steals a glance at you, without even turning his head — hands slipping into his pockets. there’s a moment of silence, until he’s parting his lips again. 
”… i can buy some for you, though.” 
(you barely pick up on the words, spoken almost in a whisper — as if an afterthought.)
he clears his throat.
”… if you don’t have the money, i mean.”
you can’t help but blink, at that — lashes fluttering in rapid succession, wondering if you heard him correctly. he doesn’t seem keen on elaborating, though. walking on, ignoring all snowflakes descending from the sky, eager to nuzzle in between his locks. his infinity keeps them out. 
”… why?”
it’s all you can say. all you can verbalize.
(in a story like this, why would the brightest star of all orbit around someone like you?)
gojo gives you another glance. his iris cuts into your skin, observes you on what you’re sure must be a molecular level. he lets silence linger, for a moment, tipping his head back to look up at the sky.
gray, and more gray. flecks of white. you’d see the same thing he does. 
”hmm…” he lets out a breath, head falling forward again, snowy strands ghosting against the skin of his forehead. ”let’s call it a trade.”
another series of blinks. 
gojo turns towards you, then — a fresh grin blooming on his lips. white teeth, pink gums. it makes him look boyish, innocent, just another city boy with too much time on his hands.
”i buy you snacks — and you tell me what music you’re always listening to.” he bends his body forward, tilts his head at the same time, all lanky and charming, like a big cat. ”deal?”
you stay silent.
he’s looking at your headphones, still left neglected around your neck. your gaze falls down to the icy concrete, the thin layer of frost, waiting to be melted by the first sunrays of spring. whenever that will be. 
geto and shoko are still behind you — you can hear their low, muffled chatter, smell the remnants of tobacco in the air. and you swear you can practically hear geto’s words, echoing through your head.
(why do you think that is?)
gojo is still looking at you. expectantly, lips curled up into a lazy smile. he’s waiting, you know he is, and you also know he isn’t very good at that. you know a lot of things — what you don’t know is what to say. you don’t know if you can believe in whatever geto was insinuating, don’t know if you can grapple with your own longing to do so. 
(next time, why don’t you say what’s on your mind?)
geto doesn’t get it. he doesn’t know what your feelings towards gojo truly look like. doesn’t know that what’s on your mind when he’s around is always something horrifically embarrassing. something like, i want to know more about you, or maybe i wish i could tell you more about me. something awfully cheesy, like — i’m jealous of how bright you shine, but i can’t help but like you anyway. 
if i become your friend, would it be okay to say i understand your loneliness? that i notice it, even just by a fraction?
would that be okay with you?
(words that should be left unspoken.)
”… well, it’s not like you have to.” gojo exhales, again, the words a heavy weight seeping past his throat. his shoulders slump, as he turns forward, fingers trailing up to scratch at the back of his neck. 
all you can think is that he’s getting ready to leave. that nothing will change, at this rate, that spring will wash winter away. that geto should be more direct with his advice, and that if it’s not the music itself that gojo is interested in knowing more about, then surely —
” — i don’t listen to anything.”
gojo stills. the words have flown past your lips before you can reach out and grasp them, slicing through the open air.
he spins around, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose at the sudden motion, exposing his widened eyes. those white lashes, fluttering softly, like a pair of doves eager to get above ground. you grip onto the insides of your pockets, warm and cozy against your freezing hands — it grounds you, keeps you tethered down to earth, down to him. 
”music,” you continue, sputtering slightly, as if your lungs don’t quite know how to work under pressure. winter air seeps into your windpipe, cuts the skin there. ”i don’t listen to music.”
you lift your hands, fingers curling around the soft earmuffs wrapped around your neck, hesitantly meeting gojo’s gaze — an overlapping sequence, blanketing his view. then you’re gazing down. 
”it’s just… comforting,” you try to explain, speaking softly. ”to wear them. white noise.. tires me out, so…”
the sentence trails off, unfinished. you feel silly. silly for saying anything at all, for building it up so much. silly for being the way that you are.
but when you look up at gojo, he’s brightened like a star.
white teeth, pink gums, that breathtakingly boyish grin. his blue eyes gleam with colour, almost spilling over the corners, like watercolour paint on a too-small canvas. he tilts his head, looking at you carefully, as if truly seeing you for the first time; absently swaying side to side. 
if he had a tail, you’re sure it’d be wagging.  
”i see!”
a silent breath spills into the air. your lips part, but no sound comes out, only vapour; heart pumping blood through your writhing veins, warming you up from the inside, a co-conspirator to the heat blooming in your cheeks. gojo continues to speak.
”i guess that counts,” he nods, crossing his arms with a satisfied hum. ”alright. i’ll get you any snacks you want! you can be greedy, it’s okay.”
a murmur of thanks escapes you, although you’d like to tell him there’s no need. something tells you denying him this would be like taking another step backwards, in this budding connection between you.
(… if you can even call it that.)
geto and ieiri catch up to your unmoving figures, finally, and only then does gojo spin on his heel and pick up his previous pace. calling back to you over his shoulder, a smile you can’t see but still hear.
”just don’t give any of it to those two, yeah?”
”cheapskate,” ieiri calls back, lone cigarette hanging between her lips. geto lets out something like a chuckle, his shoulder brushing up against yours.
you watch gojo’s back as he moves forward. unbothered, untethered. you think of him a snowflake in the breeze.
spring is almost here, now. it’s a bittersweet feeling, to know your conversations during recess will surely dwindle out — but at least you’ll have had this. one normal conversation, the knowledge that he was curious about you, even if you may just be the classmate by the heater in his eyes.
you’re too cold to keep him warm all on your own, so there’s no helping it. you’re willing to accept that some stars only show from the surface during winter. 
you’re willing to accept this. it aches, a little, but you’ll be okay. 
”i’ll take it things went well, then?”
geto is wearing his signature smile, when you look up at him. an expression of carefully concealed composure, lips curled up, but a knowing look in his eyes — something that borders on teasing.
you give him a nod, a bow of your head, to silently convey your appreciation. chameleon or not, you don’t really mind his ways. it’s hard to fake the warmth in his voice, when he speaks.
”i’m glad.”
the two of you watch gojo’s back, like birds gazing out at a body of water. silence lingers.
”won’t that moron get cold?”
ieiri’s voice cuts through the mold of your mind, low and gravelly, right beside you. she’s pointing towards gojo — the flimsy jacket he’s wearing. 
you’re wondering the same thing.
geto casts her a glance over your head, before gazing down at you, seemingly noticing your curiosity. he lets out a low hum; reaching a hand out to brush away the snowflakes on his shoulders. 
”temperature,” he begins, slipping his hands into his pockets; that familiar coaching tone to his voice, purposefully slow. ”is just a measure of atoms in rapid motion.”
you tilt your head, in tandem with ieiri — looking to your classmate for further elaboration. he seems to enjoy your confusion, lips curling up just a bit. gojo calls out to you, in the distance, waving both his hands, and geto returns it with a wave of his own.
an amber eye flicks towards you, an explanation on his tongue. ”his infinity can regulate that motion.”
… another tilt of your head.
geto lets out an amused breath. it scatters out into the air, a cloud of smoke, almost a chuckle.
”basically…” he sighs. ”he does just fine, in the cold. don’t worry about it. he’ll keep himself warm.”
ieiri mutters something, beneath her breath, something like you could have just said no, but you don’t really hear it. you think your heart must have climbed up, somehow; got caught in your windpipe. 
ah.
gojo can keep himself warm.
the thought spins inside your mind, over and over, a realization that makes your inner palms feel clammy. stupid, silly, this pitter-patter of your heartbeat. but what else could it mean? if the cold doesn’t bother him, if he doesn’t run cold, then…
(he wouldn’t need it. he wouldn’t need it here, wouldn’t need it during recess, within the chilly walls of your classroom. he wouldn’t need it to stay warm.
gojo isn’t after your heater. if that’s true, then…)
you bury your nose in the soft wool of your scarf. breathing in the fading scent, vanilla and cinnamon, grounding you to earth, lingering in your nostrils. distracting you from the rush of warmth, that blooms in the frostbitten apples of your cheeks. 
as if sensing your thoughts, or maybe just noticing your embarrassed expression, geto laughs — soft and breathy, shoulders shaking to your left. you hear it, only nuzzling deeper into the comfort of your scarf. feeling your heartbeat spin out of orbit.
in the distance, gojo continues to wave, yelling out something unintelligible. you could mistake him for a star.
spring is almost here, now. in just a month or so, it’ll be at your doorstep — waltzing right in. 
(but you aren’t worried.)
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raz-writes-the-thing · 4 months ago
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Cold Comforts (Beetlejuice Drabble)
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Betelgeuse x GN!Reader / requests are open
Summary: You have a headache and Beej does his best to offer you some comfort.
Fic type: comfort, fluff
EVERYTHING: @winchxters @calliopesdiary @xxxsugarcyanidexxx
BEETLEJUICE: @im-eating-rn @little-missscare-all @onyxvogel-official (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"There y'are, babe, where've y'been, huh?" Beej's voice travelled loudly through your apartment as you closed the door and rested your forehead against its cold surface.
You didn't offer a verbal response, just let your bag slouch to the floor with a loud thud as you ambled towards the living room where you knew he'd be. Where else would he be other than camped out watching old sitcom reruns.
Catching sight of his splitting grin and satin-striped pyjamas, you let out a very long sigh of relief before collapsing into his lap like a sad, wet cat.
Beej seemed confused about this, and his hand hesitated, hovering above your back before he finally dropped it to rub you comfortingly.
"C'mon, babe," he said, tone as soft as he was capable of making it. "Talk t'me. What's wrong, huh?"
You grumbled in response, muttering something about the beginnings of a migraine and something about work. BJ tutted and snapped his fingers, ensuring the lights turned off and the volume on the television dropped to barely audible. You winced at the loud click of his fingers, and he grunted as an apology.
A second, much quieter snap of his fingers sounded and there was a soft pop of energy to your right. You take a peek and find a duplicate Betelgeuse standing there in an all-white suit and black bowtie, domed platter in his outstretched hand.
“Refreshment to go with your dinner, babe?” The duplicate asks, scrunching his smile a little and giving you a very standard Beej wink as he whips the metallic dome from the platter to reveal an ice-cold glass of water. “Aw c’mon, don’t leave a guy hangin’- whaddaya want, huh? Lobster? Sirloin steak? Horse rib? Last time I had horse was the Plague.”
Offering a tense smile, you shook your head and politely declined.
"Mm," he grunted. "No-go there, huh? Whaddaya need, sweet cheeks?"
You sighed discontentedly and buried your forehead against his cool chest. Perks of being dead- he was always the right temperature to cool you down when you needed it. He eventually warmed up with the contact against your skin, but it was nice while it lasted. Though less so in Winter.
"Needy little thing, huh? Nuh-uh, no moving. Dead Man's orders," he tuts, pressing your head back to his chest when you try to raise it. "Be good for me 'n stay there. There y'go."
It was a good thing Beej had old MASH re-runs to entertain himself with- as it wasn't long before you were curled up, fast asleep with his fingers in your hair. And he had no plans to wake you any time soon, either.
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jenosbigtoe · 1 year ago
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na jaemin x catgirl!reader (M)
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minors dni
summary: jaemin finds a stray catgirl and takes her under his wing.
warnings: hybrid au. lots of fluff :3, bratty!reader, dom!jaemin, big dick nana, loss of virginity, breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, mild squirting, kitty eating (lmao), fingering, fellatio, praise kink
word count: 6.0k
a/n: jaemin is the biggest cat person i know (besides me duh) so why wouldn’t i write a fic about him being down bad for his lil catgirl?
jesus fuck this was long and took forever 😪 sorry it's posted later than promised but at least it's longer than my last two fics combined! lmk if you want to see more of jaem and his catgirl bc im really liking this au
“fuck this shit man.” jaemin was so sick of his boring ass 9-5 office job. every single day he deals with incompetent coworkers (how did they even graduate high school), entitled clients, and a shitty boss that wanted to put all the work on him because he knew jaemin was a good employee.
jaemin took out a pack of newports and lit a cigarette, leaning his head back against the alleyway wall and sighing in frustration. the cold winter air bit at his nose but he didn’t care. this was his one time to really relax right after work. as he was taking a long drag, a rustle from the dark alley caught his attention.
he paused. “who’s there?” jaemin squinted his eyes against the pitch black darkness. this was a shady part of town and jaemin knew better than to be hiding out in the back alleyway of a sketchy convenience store but he also had a reputation to hold up. couldn’t have anyone from his work or person life finding out the social butterfly nana was a chainsmoker and hated his life.
against his better judgement, he put out the lit cigarette and moved closer to the rustling noise. turning his phone flashlight on, he didn’t know what he’d expect to see. maybe a raccoon or a stray dog.
he certainly didn’t expect to see the sweetest little thing hiding and shivering under a dirty cardboard box. there you were, hair matted, skin covered in grime, thin clothes in tatters, brown ears pressed flat against your head. and despite your disheveled appearance, jaemin thought you were just the cutest thing he’s ever seen. as his phone flash shined directly on you, you jumped in fright, body immediately tensing up in alarm. you bared your teeth at him and hissed, claws extended.
“woah hey i’m not gonna hurt you,” jaemin back away slowly, putting his hands up.
“fuck off,” you gritted at him, sharp teeth still showing.
“what are you doing out here like this? it’s freezing and you don’t have any clothes. where’s your owner?” jaemin crouched to the ground, trying to inch closer to you but you tucked yourself smaller into the corner.
“don’t have an owner. don’t need one. m perfectly fine by myself. now leave me alone, human,” you growled at him.
jaemin attempted to reach a hand out to you but you swatted at him and hissed, leaving a small gash on his hand.
“do you have a name, kitty?” jaemin asked softly.
you continued to glare at him. “leave me alone.”
jaemin knew it would be really difficult to get you to open up but he had such a soft spot for animals, especially strays. and he couldn’t just leave you alone looking like this in the winter cold.
“kitty, it’s way too cold out for you to be here without any proper clothes.” jaemin stated. “my name is na jaemin and i only want to help you, okay?”
your body was still tensed in suspension of this stranger but as he continued to get closer to you, you got a whiff of his scent. nose scrunched up cutely, you sniffed up at the air, needing more of that delicious scent. god he smelled so so good. despite the bitter cold of the winter air, the scent of this stranger left your body feeling warm and fuzzy inside, slowly melting your tough exterior. but he was still a stranger, one you had no idea the intentions of, and you didn’t want to take any risks.
“stop patronizing me and just leave me alone, stupid human.” the longer you were around him, the less alarmed your body felt, but you still kept your guard up around this delicious smelling stranger. and jaemin didn’t miss how your body language slowly got less tense the longer you were around him.
jaemin got up slowly, deep in thought. “i’ll be right back, kitty.”
he disappeared around the corner of the alley again, leaving you feeling slightly empty. stupid, you thought. he’s just a stranger. of course he’d leave like everyone else. you knew that rationally but your body was acting so weird around this stranger.
you continued to sit there, huddled beneath the cardboard and desperately seeking warm, when the stranger came back, this time with a steaming cup and a hotdog.
“here, baby,” jaemin cooed at you, handing you the cup of hot chocolate and hotdog. for some reason, your belly felt so warm at his calling you baby. “you must be so hungry.”
you eyed the food suspiciously. “why are you being so nice to me, human? you don’t even know me. you don’t even know my name.”
“doesn’t matter to me. nobody, hybrid or human or animal, deserves to be shivering in the winter cold like this,” jaemin stated with a serious look on his face.
you cautiously grabbed the food and drink from his hand before scarfing down the hotdog in record time and chugging the hot chocolate, some cutely dripping down your chin. your brown ears twitched in happiness. god jaemin thought you were just the cutest thing.
“y/n. it’s y/n,” you mumbled at him. “thank you for the food.”
“y/n, such a cute name for the cutest kitty,” jaemin smiled brightly.
he reached one hand out slowly to brush your hair out of your face. you just about jumped at the contact, but as he scratched that sweet spot behind your ears, your tail swished in happiness and you started to pur in delight. you closed your eyes in bliss and leaned slightly into the contact.
“good girl. such a sweet girl. i know you were so frightened, all alone in this winter cold. but nana’s got you now, m’kay?” jaemin cooed at you.
your body and brain were melting. his touch felt so so good, it’s been so long since you’ve been pet like this. and his smell, god you’ve never smelled anything so delicious before.
“y/n, i know we just met and i know you must so scared right now. but i can’t just leave you like this in the cold. please, let me just take you back to my apartment and you can stay there for a couple nights. i have an extra room so don’t worry about needing to sleep with me. i’ll give you a fresh set of clothes and feed you while you’re there. but i can’t just leave you here in good faith.” jaemin gave you a sincere look, practically pleading for you to come back with him.
your tail stop swishing and you scrunched your little nose in heavy thought. on one hand, you knew next to nothing about this man and he wanted you to stay at his place? but a warm bed and a fresh set of clothes and hot meals sounded so so good… and how much harm could this good smelling stranger even do to you… the rational part of your brain was telling you no, this stranger couldn’t be trusted. who knows what he’d do to you once you were in his territory? but your body was saying otherwise, he made you feel so good inside and he could take care of you even for just a few days.
you gave a long hard stare before replying. “okay. just for a little bit,” you whispered softly, still scared out of your mind.
jaemin used his beefy arms to support your weight as he helped you stand up on shaky legs. he wrapped his winter coat around your shivering body, cooing sweet reassuring words into your ear. his scent was absolutely intoxicating to you, leaving your mind fuzzy and full of him.
as soon as you stepped into his apartment, you were greeted with three balls of white fur bombarding your legs. one licked and nibbled on your toes, another purred and rubbed itself against your legs, and the other circled around your legs, tail swishing happily. you squealed at the sight, such cute kitties!
“ah ah lucy, luke, and luna, let’s not scare our guest, okay babies?” he spoke to them in such a gentle tone, it had your heart melting.
“n-no, s’okay, nana. i love kittens,” you reached down to pet them and give them chin rubs. all three kittens cuddled close to your body and let out loud purs. jaemin’s heart fluttered at your usage of his nickname.
“what are their names?” you asked.
“this one is lucy, this one is luke, and this one is luna. i got them a few months ago. i didn’t want to separate these three siblings so i just adopted all three. aren’t they just the sweetest things?”
you nodded, letting out purs alongside the kittens. you would never tell him this now but you also thought jaemin was so sweet.
he crouched down to pet the kitties alongside you. “they must really like you. they’re not usually this sweet and welcoming to guests. guess they recognize a kitten just as cute as them too.”
you pretended to not notice his last comment but your red face and happily swishing tail gave away your happiness.
“y/n, let’s get you into the bath and some clean clothes, hm? i know you must be dying to get this grime off you,” jaemin gently whispered, still petting the three purring kitties on the floor alongside you.
you paused, ears twitching. “bath?”
“yeah, a bath,” jaemin replied, looking up at you to gauge how you felt. your nose was scrunched up cutely in disgust at the mere idea of a bath.
“don’t need one. can lick myself clean,” you grumbled, pouting slightly.
you stopped petting the kitties, who seemed very displeased at the lack of attention you were giving them, and finally took a look around his apartment. the unfamiliar environment made you slightly uneasy but somehow you knew you were going to be safe. everything just smelled so strongly of him, it made your head dizzy and belly warm.
“kitty, you need to take a bath. i’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable now but you will feel so much better after,” jaemin gently reassured you.
you shook your head, cheeks puffed and ears pinned back. “no. don’t want.”
jaemin sighed, rising to his feet. “c’mon baby. let me run a warm bath for you. i promise it will feel so good.”
he tried taking your hand but you hissed and swatted at him. “no. away.” you backed yourself into a corner.
jaemin gave you a defeated look before disappearing around a corner. you sat back down to cuddle and play with the kittens.
jaemin came back to see you playing with the kittens so happily. it seemed they really helped make you feel comfortable in this foreign environment and his cats liked you so much already.
“kitty, come with me,” he prodded at your arm.
you narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. “where are you taking me?”
“you’ll see.” jaemin decided to take it upon himself to carry you in his arms bridal style. his strength had you flinging around like a ragdoll, making you very angry.
you started clawing and biting at his arms, kicking your legs and screaming wildly. “let me go! let me go! hey!”
he brought you into a steamy bathroom and sat you on the ledge of the bubbly bathtub. he used his strength to pin your hips in place as he kneeled and situated himself between your legs.
“baby, i know you don’t want to take a bath but you need to wash this dirt off yourself. just listen to nana, hm?” he stared deep into your eyes with a serious look on his face, causing you to shift around in unease.
you broke eye contact and looked away, pouting deeply. “fine. you’ve literally given me no choice anyway. i’ll get in the stupid bath.”
you practically ripped your tattered clothes off your body and jumped straight into the water, splashing water and bubbles every where. you thrashed around wildly in the water, slipping and sliding all over the place. god, how long ago was it since you’ve had a bath like this?
jaemin reached into the water and held you firmly upright, using his thumb to rub you reassuringly. “woah, kitty. be careful, it’s dangerous to be so careless in the water. you can hurt yourself.”
“too long since i’ve had a bath like this,” you moaned, slipping under the water til your nose was just sticking out.
jaemin rolled up his sleeves and started rinsing your hair, massaging circles of shampoo into your scalp. you purred contentedly, tail swishing and splashing in the water.
“such a good kitty, doing so good for nana,” he murmured lowly as he washed and rinsed your hair and body affectionately.
you stayed in the tub, splashing around happily, until the warm water began to run cold. jaemin allowed you to step out before drying your body with a fluffy white towel. he dressed you in a pair of his grey sweatpants and a fuzzy black hoodie that smelled oh so deliciously of him. you inhaled the neckline of the hoodie deeply, his smell making your limbs dizzy and head fuzzy.
“all better now, kitty?” he smiled teasingly at you.
you gave a sheepish smile back. “thank you, nana.”
“it’s getting late, baby. let me get you a little snack. stay here on the couch,” he gave you a small peck to your head and walked to the kitchen.
his kittens strutted up to you, meowing and begging to be held. you grabbed all three in your arms and snuggled them close to your chest, pressing kisses to their fluffy fur.
jaemin walked into the living room, holding a glass of warm milk and a plate of cookies, to see you with his babies. his heart fluttered at the sight, so freaking adorable.
“this is for you, y/n,” he walked over and handed you the milk and cookies.
you smiled appreciatively at him before furrowing your eyebrows cutely. “why are you being so kind to me? we just met a few hours ago.”
jaemin shrugged his shoulders and sat next to you, grabbing lucy into his lap and stroking her fur. “i’ve always been a cat person, as you can see.”
you munched on the cookies happily and let the kittens snuggle up to you. luke and lucy fell asleep on your lap, purring contentedly. you let out a soft yawn and fluttered your eyelids. jaemin chuckled. you were just so stinking cute.
“getting sleepy, baby? i’ll take you to the guess bedroom,” he grabbed your arm, sleepy kittens still in hand, before leading you to the room right across from his bedroom.
“can i sleep with the kittens tonight?” you whispered softly.
“of course, baby,” he replied.
before he could turn to walk back to his room, you grabbed his sleeve and gave a quick peck to his cheek before scurrying to hide underneath the covers. your face was hot and red.
so freaking cute, jaemin though to himself, grinning widely.
it was the middle of the night. you didn’t even know what time it was but you couldn’t fall asleep. your mind was running a million thoughts all at once. what were you going to do when jaemin eventually got tired of you freeloading and kicked you out? how were you supposed to live back on the street now that you know what kindness feels like? you liked jaemin so much you didn’t want to leave him.
before you could think it over, you slowly got out of bed and knocked on jaemin’s door. a sleepy jaemin with a raspy voice and half-lidded eyes opened the door.
“yes, baby?” his sleepy voice was so sexy to you.
you stared hard at the ground. “m sorry for waking you, nana. i couldn’t sleep. would it be okay if i slept in here? just for tonight. you smell so good and comforting i thought maybe-“
he stopped you, lifting your chin to look you deep in your eyes. “kitty, don’t be so nervous around me. of course you can sleep in my bed, c’mon.”
he beckoned you over and lifted the comforter up, allowing you to slip in under the covers. he tried to lay a respectable foot away from you but you started whining and pawing at his arms to come closer. he scooted an inch closer but you grabbed his arms and wrapped them around you, snuggling your face into his thick chest and purring happily. your ears twitched cutely and tickled his face. jaemin was shocked at your boldness but molded his body to yours and cuddled you tightly.
“much better,” you sighed happily. you inhaled deeply, his smell flooding your senses. he was so warm and so comfy, you were in heaven. who would've guessed you'd be in this position when you were just swatting and hissing at him earlier in the night?
you fell asleep quickly, letting out soft sighs as you snoozed away. but now jaemin couldn’t fall back asleep. how could he? he had the sweetest little catgirl snuggling so cutely in his arms. he felt so guilty for it but he could feel his erection growing. he cursed at himself. stop being such a horny fuck. she may be cute but she trusts you to not be a freak around her, he thought.
somehow, jaemin ended up falling asleep and he woke up to you staring up at his sleeping face. your wide doe eyes were so cute just watching him adorably, he could wake up like this every day.
“morning, nana,” you whispered softly. during the night, your legs got tangled with his as you rest your hands on his chest. you could feel how thick and built he was underneath the thin material of his shirt, making your rub your thighs together unintentionally.
“good morning, baby. did you sleep well?” his deep morning voice sent shivers down your spine. his half lidded eyes and sleepy smile made him look so sexy.
you gave him a toothy smile, ears twitching and tail slapping against the bed. “yes i did. best sleep in a long time.”
he gave you a deep kiss to the top of your head, inhaling against your scalp. now that you’ve had a bath, you smelled so sweet and soft and milky. “glad to hear that. let me make breakfast before i have to leave for work.”
he slowly got up from underneath the covers, making you whine and reach for his arms to cuddle you once more.
“baby, i need to make you breakfast. can’t have my sweet kitty starve, now can i? look lucy, luna, and luke are here and they look like they want cuddles too.” he gave you a wink as the three kittens jumped on the bed and walked over to you.
jaemin returned with a plate of fresh fruit, eggs, pancakes, and some bacon. your ears perked up and you sniffed the air excitedly.
jaemin chuckled at your excitement. “hungry are we, kitty?”
you nodded excitedly. “i love pancakes. it’s been so long since i’ve had them.”
you scarfed down the breakfast jaemin made for you. bits of egg gathered at the corner of your mouth and jaemin wiped them away for you.
shyly, you told him, “thank you. for the breakfast and for everything, nana. i’ve never been treated this kindly before.”
jaemin scooted closer to you and wrapped his arm around you, giving you a sweet peck on the cheek. “anything for my kitty.”
he checked his watch and jumped up suddenly. “shit! i’m gonna be late for work.” he rushed into his closet to grab clothes to change into.
you sat on the bed as he stripped to his underwear and put on black slacks and a white button-down. you blushed at the sight of his bare body, thinking he was so sexy but you’d die before telling him that.
rushing to put his shoes on, he gave you one final kiss on the cheek before heading out the door. “i’ll be back tonight for dinner, okay kitty? i’ll leave a 50 on the counter so you can buy whatever you want for yourself. see you this evening, baby.”
your heart sunk. you didn’t want him to leave you again. not when you just met. you knew he was going to come back home (he had to) but that didn’t fill the empty hole in your heart. your eyes welled up with a few tears before you wiped them away with your sleeve. jaemin has been so kind to you so it was time for you to stop looking like a bum and fix yourself up cutely for him.
later that evening, jaemin returned home to not just 3 kitties running up to him to give him some love but also you rushing up to give him a big bear hug. your little body crushing him with a tight squeeze as you nuzzled your face in his chest made his heart melt. he felt you purring against his chest as his arms wrapped around your body.
“missed me, huh kitty?” he teased.
you loosened your grip to look into his eyes. “yes i did,” you pouted seriously.
“i missed you too, baby. let me take these work clothes off so i can make dinner for you,” he replied, giving your head a sweet kiss and inhaling your milky scent.
you reluctantly let go as jaemin’s eyes widened at the sight. you were wearing the cutest little outfit he had no idea where you got it from. a short white mini skirt with a tight lacy pink crop top that showed off your plump tits that were practically spilling out of your shirt. you even had baby pink thigh highs with little bows on them.
“like it?” you smiled up at him, giving a little swirl. he caught sight of little white panties underneath your skirt.
jaemin was breathless. “where did you get this little outfit, baby?”
you smiled even wider. “used the money you left me to go shopping for this. i told the lady to help me find something to impress you and she showed me this.”
jaemin eyed your body hungrily, making you squirm and rub your thighs together. “so, nana? do you like it?”
jaemin gave you a tight hug, pressing his body against yours. you could feel his bulge against your pelvis, making your panties so wet. “i love it, baby. you’re so cute.”
your tail swished happily as you purred against him. “yayyy,” you said excitedly.
“baby, let me go make dinner for us, kay? just wait for me and we can cuddle after.” he hummed against your head.
for dinner, you sat in his lap on the couch, eating your steaming bowls of soup and happily cuddling with the three kitties. your little skirt rode up your thighs, causing your panties to peak out. you wiggled your ass around on jaemin’s lap, sighing contentedly as jaemin shifted around so you wouldn’t feel his hardening bulge.
“thank you again, nana. i appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” you purred.
jaemin gave you a wink. “of course, my baby. you can stay with me for as long as you need. i’m not just gonna throw you out.”
you sat up excitedly, tail swishing, as you turned to face him. “really? you really mean it?”
jaemin nodded. “of course. stay with me as long as you need. my home is always open to you.”
you set your bowl down and gave him a tight hug. “yay yay yayy!! thank you, nana!”
you leaned back to look him in his eyes when you slowly looked down to stare at his lips. slowly, you inched forward and planted a sweet kiss on his lips, sucking and licking gently. jaemin was shocked at your boldness but reciprocated your kiss with a renewed fervor. you wrapped your arms around his neck and sat there on his lap as you made out with him intensely.
“fuck, baby,” he groaned against your lips, rubbing circles on your back and lightly bucking his hips against yours. you let out soft whimpers and moans.
you pulled away from him and rested your foregead against his to gaze deep into his eyes. you looked so fucking hot in that moment jaemin was about to lose it. puffy lips, wild hair, lidded eyes staring at him seductively, ears twitching so cutely. you stared at each other, air tingling with tension and need.
jaemin broke the silence. “baby, i don’t have work tomorrow. let’s go shopping and buy you some cute clothes to wear, kay?”
you nodded and sunk your face into his neck, sniffing at his sexy scent. “yes, i would like that a lot, nana.”
for the next few weeks, you would drive jaemin crazy. always prancing around wearing the cutest little outfits that would leave nothing to the imagination. snuggling and cuddling him so cutely whenever he had the tiniest bit of freetime to lounge around. sleeping in his bed and tangled up in his arms while rubbing yourself against his body. kissing him and making out with him at every possible moment but never going further than that. you were so so clingy with him, always whining and pouting when he had to go anywhere without you. and when he got back, you’d cling to him like a little koala. you were just his sweetest, cutest little kitten and he wanted to gobble you up.
“nana, don’t leave me. how long will you be gone this time?” you pouted and pawed at his chest, pressing your body against his.
“baby,” he sighed. “i need to go drop this off at the post office. i’ll be back in 20 minutes, okay? then i’ll give you your cuddles.”
you sniffled. “meanie.”
when he came back as promised, 19 minutes later, you ran and jumped up into his arms. “you came back, nana! missed you so much.” you pressed a sweet kiss against his lips.
“you’re so precious, kitty. my sweet kitty always so good to nana,” he hummed against your lips.
you pulled away. “nana, i have a problem.”
jaemin started to press soft kisses up and down your jawline. “hm?”
“i’ve been feeling weird lately. i don’t know how to explain it.”
he paused, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “what do you mean, baby?”
“everytime you touch me like that, i get all tingly.” you pointed to your privates. “i get all warm and hot down there. and my panties get a little wet. is there something wrong with me?”
jaemin’s jaw dropped in realization. oh. oh.
“oh, baby. uh,” he started, setting you down on the ground gently. “how do i explain this?”
you tilted your head expectantly at him.
“it means you need me.” he said simply.
you looked confused. “need you? of course i need you. you’re my nana and i’m your kitty.”
“no baby. it means you need me to touch you right there.”
you had a look of realization on your face. “oh.”
“baby, i can help you. i can make you feel really good. but only if you tell me, okay? i won’t do anything you don’t want.” he said slowly, gauging your reaction.
you had a sure look on your face. “nana, i trust you. please touch me.”
jaemin growled and smashed his lips against yours, gripping your ass with one hand and running his hand through your hair in another. you purred needily, rubbing your legs together and feeling that warmth between your legs again.
“baby, can i take this to the bedroom?” he sighed breathlessly against your lips.
you nodded excitedly and chased his lips with yours once more. he hoisted you up by your waist and wrapped your legs around his waist. you lightly grinded against his abdomen, causing him to groan and curse against your lips.
he threw you onto the bed, knocking you breathless, and climbed on top of you to kiss you deeply once more. you whined and bucked your hips up against him in need.
“need more, nana,” you whimpered.
“m getting there, baby,” he said as he started to take your skirt, top, bra, and finally panties off your body, never disconnecting his lips from yours.
he reached his hand down to lightly tease your leaking pussy. you felt so warm and hot down there, you needed more. “more! more!” you cried out.
he took one finger and lightly went around your sopping hole. “fuck, this pussy is so wet for me, huh? you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this. the perfect kitty.”
he plunged one finger in, which had you whining and bucking against his hand. as he pumped his finger in and out of your drooling cunt, he slowly added another finger, then another. he alternated between pumping your cunt and taking his fingers out to play with your clit.
you moaned and cried out. “fuck yes! yes, more, please oh god more!”
he planted a deep kiss on your lips. “my kitty is doing so good for me.”
suddenly, he ripped his hand from your cunt, which had you whining and pouting. then he crawled down to face your beautiful pussy. you were so wet and leaky, all for him. he groaned and shoved his face right into your cunt, tonguing at your hole before licking a strip up to your clit. you screamed and cried out, gripping at his hair and shoving his face further into your crying pussy. he started sucking and licking at your clit before shoving three of his fingers back into your hole, pumping up and hitting your G-spot. tears rolled down your face from all the pleasure.
you felt your core get tight. “nana! nana! feel funny down there… my pussy keeps leaking more!” you cried out.
he looked up from your cunt. he looked so fucking sexy, eyes lidded and face dripping with your arousal. “baby, don’t worry. just relax and feel good, kay?”
he dove back into fingering your dripping cunt and sucking and licking at your clit when you felt a wave of pleasure burst from your core. your cunt squirted out wetness as you screamed in pleasure.
“oh god! nanaaa!!” you sobbed, covering your face with your arm from the intense pleasure.
he grinned, licking his lips and fingers clean, and gently pulled your arm from your face. “let look at you, gorgeous. that felt good, right?”
you nodded vigorously. “nana, need more. felt so good.”
you pulled at his belt loop and started unbuckling his jeans. he let you pull his pants down as he took his shirt off, exposing his sexy toned body. you were drooling at the sight.
“nana, you are so sexy,” you whispered, staring directly at his chiseled abs.
he winked at you before finally pulling his boxers down and letting his rock hard cock spring free. your eyes got as wide as saucers. he was massive. so red and veiny, thick from base to tip, and a slight curve upwards. a bead of pearly white liquid gathered at the tip. his balls looked so big and heavy too. your mouth watered.
“wow,” you whispered to yourself.
jaemin smirked, giving himself a few pumps. “like it, baby?”
you nodded slowly. “i’ve never done this before. can i put it in my mouth?”
jaemin groaned. “fuck baby, you’re gonna be the death of me. so cute and so fucking hot.”
you leaned down and started licking the shaft, started at the base. you sucked his balls softly, letting the weight of them rest on your tongue as you moaned softly.
“just like that baby, fuck. sure you’ve never done this before?” he groaned and snaked his hands into gripping your hair.
you shook your head before licking his cock from base to tip. you gave his cock a small kiss and gulped. how were you going to fit this in your mouth. he was huge. slowly, you sucked on the tip before taking more and more into your mouth. you bobbed your head up and down on his cock as jaemin let out the sexiest groans. you let your tongue lick at the veins on the underside of his cock as you went faster and faster.
“oh, baby. fuck, you suck dick like a pro,” he moaned out. “you’re so gorgeous and perfect, you know that? i love you, my sweet kitty.”
all of sudden, you bottomed out on his cock, sticking it all in your mouth at once. you gave a few licks to his balls.
“oh fuck, fuck, fuck, m gonna cum,” jaemin cursed.
he ripped your head off his cock with a lewd pop. leaving you whining and chasing his cock for more. he threw you back against the bed and pinned you down, cock bouncing angrily against his stomach. you rubbed your legs together as your pussy leaked and drooled in need.
“as good as you suck dick, baby, i need to finish inside you,” he growled, giving you a deep kiss.
he reached into his nightstand to pull out a condom.
“what’s that?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows and tilting your head.
he ripped the packet open and started rolling it on his cock. “it’s called a condom, baby. you put it on before having sex to prevent pregnancy.”
you shook your head slowly. “do you have to wear it? don’t want you to. wanna feel your cock in my pussy raw.”
jaemin paused. “you sure, baby?”
you nodded. “very sure.”
he groaned and cursed to himself. something about “fuck, she’s so sexy and she doesn’t even know it.” he ripped the condom off and threw it off the bed somewhere. then he climbed back on top of you and propped your legs up against his shoulders and lined his cock with your entrance. he gave himself a few punps and teased your soaking hole with the tip of his leaking cock. “ready, baby?”
you nodded vigorously and whined, bucking your hips up to meet his cock. he bottomed out inside you with one thrust, causing you to scream out.
“oh, nana! fuck!” you cried deliciously. your ears twitched so cutely it had jaemin wanting to pound you hard and fast immediately.
he paused his hips to let you against to his size. “are you okay, baby?”
you kissed him. “if you don’t move i might lose my mind.”
with that, he pounded your little pussy with his big cock hard and deep. you cried and screamed at the intense pleasure, claws scratching at his back. the lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your ass had you leaking all around. you squirmed and wriggled underneath him, causing him to use his strength to pin your hips to the mattress.
“fuck baby, you feel so good. real thing is much better than what i’ve imagined,” he growled against your neck.
“oh jaemin,” you called out.
his hips went faster and harder. “say it again. say my name, baby.”
“j-jaemin,” you cried. “jaemin jaemin jaemin! yes oh fuck yes!” in the deep mating press he had you in, you felt the tip of his cock kiss your cervix sweetly.
“oh baby, i love you so much. love my sweet kitty so much. so precious and so sweet to me.” he groaned into your neck.
you were losing your mind in pleasure. “oh jaemin, gonna cum again. more please more!!”
his hips rutted into you impossibly fast, god you were losing your mind. you felt your core tighten and burst with pleasure once again, waves of orgasm washing over your body. your pussy squirted all over his abdomen and spasmed around his cock. his hips continued to fuck you through your orgasm, leaving you feeling overstimulated with pleasure. fat tears rolled down your face as you sobbed and clawed at jaemin’s back.
“m gonna cum too baby,” he gave you a sweet kiss on your lips. “doing so good for me. so good for nana.”
with a final deep thrust, he bottomed out inside your pussy and let out hot white spurts of cum, so much that some dripped and leaked out even as he was still balls deep inside. he collapsed on top of you with a groan, inhaling your hair deeply. you laid there panting and covered in sweat.
“love you, kitty,” he whispered softly into your ear.
“love you too, nana.”
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m00nkissedlover · 30 days ago
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・。cat's first snow ❄️
you've ordered: cookies and cream ice cream! enjoy!
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"twenty-four to twenty-five, bae. just stay with me." (partly inspired by "24 to 25" by stray kids)
animagus! regulus black x reader | word count: 1,492 words
summary: it snows at hogwarts! but, guess who hates the cold? ❄️ (silly little drabble)
warnings: a bit of cursing (lighthearted)! not really warnings, but: reader's favorite season is winter, regulus takes the animagus form of a cat.
note: i swear, i was giggling and kicking my feet writing this 🤭 yes, i'm reusing marauders/ skittles characters. again, i'm still getting caught up on marauders/ harry potter stuff in general. this fic is based on this post i made.
the courtyard grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were blanketed in a pillowy white layer of snow. excitement emanated through the corridors and hallways of the school as students and faculty alike talked of taking pleasure in the wondrous winter display. basically, everyone was ready for classes to end so they could go out and play in the snow.
well...not everyone.
you see, your boyfriend, regulus black: he hated the cold. hated with a capital H. ever since he was a child, the slytherin was never fond of the chilly weather of fall and winter, always wrapped to the nines in layers of sweaters and jackets. not even a single wisp of cold air could touch him without him kicking up a fuss.
obviously, this was a problem since you lived for the cold weather of winter. getting to splurge on cute, fluffy sweaters, tins of flavored hot chocolate mix, and jars of various teas made your heart pound with joy. and of course, playing in the snow was just as fun.
"boys versus girls snowball fight in ten minutes!" evan yelled, throwing his scarf around his neck as he, barty, and james made a mad dash down the hallway.
"losers have to shove snow down their shirts!" sirus chimed in, he and remus following after the others.
"they're so immature." pandora grumbled, rolling her eyes as she watched her brother run down the hallway like an idiot.
"i know right....but, we're winning the fight, right?" marlene asked, nudging dorcas in her side.
"oh definitely." dorcas responded, lily giving them a thumbs up before looking around.
"have any of you seen y/n? i could've sworn they were just with us." lily asked, the girls looking around in confusion.
just where were you?
"reg, please? it's not even that bad, i swear!" oh, there you were, currently trying to persuade regulus to come outside with you guys.
you knew it was a futile effort. he'd never agree.
"i don't care, i said i'm not coming." the stubborn slytherin refused, tucking himself deeper into the blankets he had piled around him.
"you're being ridiculous."
"and what's so ridiculous about not wanting to freeze to death?" he quipped in a rather dramatic tone that made you bite back a laugh.
"fine, i'll just go out myself. and have fun with the others..." you said, glancing over at regulus to see if your words had affected him.
"alright, have fun."
you frowned, getting up and buttoning up your jacket. "but even though i'll be with them, i'll still be a little...lonely. if only my boyfriend would come and keep me company...." nothing.
"y/n, i know what you're doing." he said, not even looking up from his book.
"fuck you, regulus black." you groaned.
"maybe after your snow day." he smiled to himself, knowing he got under your skin as he heard the door slam shut.
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"look at him, all warm and cozy, while we're all freezing our asses off." evan huffed. you were all peering in through the window of the common room, watching a familiar black cat enjoying the comfort of the fireplace.
"you thinking what i'm thinking?" barty whispered to you, a sly grin on his pierced lips.
"absolutely." you nodded, giving him the same grin as the two of you slipped away from the group. you waited in the corridor, peeking through one of the windows.
barty quietly stepped into the room, the black cat now stretching out on the couch. the crouch boy carefully tiptoed over to the couch, leaning over it and giving regulus a smile. "hey reg...don't hate me too much after this."
that cat equivalent of a scream was heard as barty swiftly scooped up the poor feline, shoving him into his coat. you had to try your best not to burst into a fit of laughter, your hand slapped over your mouth and body shaking. you watched as regulus hissed and reached out with clawed paws, trying to scratch at barty, who was scrambling out the door and over to you.
"damn, he put up a fight." barty huffed, handing you the obviously unhappy cat.
"thanks, crouchy!" you smiled, now shoving regulus into your coat. he let out a meow of protest as you ran down the hall and out the large double doors.
you could feel regulus jerk in your arms as the cold air washed over his fur. you pulled him out of your coat, playfully swinging him in your arms. then he saw it: the pile of snow you were about to fling him into.
"3....2.....1!" you yelled, tossing him into the pillowy white snow. a startled "mrow!" left the black cat's throat as he landed into it with a soft thud. he poked his head out, the snow on his head practically melting with how seething he was.
"oh come on, reg. have some fun! look-? wait, where's sirus?" your question was answered as you saw padfoot running over to the group and slamming into the pile of snow.
laughter filled the air as padfoot popped his head out and shook out his snow covered fur that resulted in regulus getting covered in snow once again. padfoot playfully nudged the angry cat, licking over his fur. you knelt down and gently scooped regulus back up into your coat, planting a soft kiss onto his head, right between his ears. the look on his face said "i hate you" but in a "you're lucky i love you" way.
after hours of snowball fights, snow angels, and building snowmen, the sun was finally beginning to set on your wintertime activities. you all made your way back inside, regulus snuggly tucked into your coat and poking his head through your scarf. when you two arrived at his dorm, he hopped out of your arms and scurried into his closet. a few moments later, regulus walked out, wrapped in a blanket and shivering rather dramatically.
"don't ever take me out in the cold again." he said through chittering teeth.
"but, wasn't that fun? at least you were warmer in your cat form, no?" you teased, walking over to him and cupping his face in your hands.
"cold!" he yelped, jumping back from the frosty touch of your fingers. a smirk formed on your face as you looked at your hands, then back at your boyfriend.
"y/n, don't-" you stepped closer to him, his eyes darting around the room.
"y/n- AH!" you immediately charged at him, chasing him around the room as he desperately tried to avoid your freezing cold hands.
"get over here!" you giggled, cornering him against his bed. you moved to straddle him, your thighs on either side of his waist.
"wait, y/n, please!" the poor boy pleaded, trying not to laugh at the determined look in your eyes.
"i can't hear you!" you teased, quickly slipping your hands underneath the blanket and pressing them to his sides.
"GAH!" the yelp that left his throat had you laughing till your throat was sore, regulus grabbing your wrists to get you off of him.
"ah! please, have mercy!" regulus mumbled weakly, a shiver running through his whole body as you leaned closer to him, that ridiculous smirk still on your face.
"want me to help you warm up?" you whispered, your warm breath wafting over his lips that twitched in response.
"i guess..." regulus mumbled, trying to fight the smile forming on his lips.
you smiled at his attempt to seem upset, leaning over and softly kissing his pouty lips. an audible "mmm" rumbled through his chest as he slowly forgot about the icy touch of your hands that were creeping up his bare sides and focused on the warmth emanating from your body and the kiss.
as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss, you felt regulus sneak his hands underneath your shirt, pressing his semi-cold hands to your skin. you yelped softly into the kiss, pulling away to scold him.
"mhm, how do you like them apples?" the dark haired male quipped, earning himself a playful pinching of his sides.
"how about we both get changed into more comfortable, warmer clothes and we can cuddle up together in the common room, hm? i'll even make you that tea you like so much." regulus couldn't pass up that offer.
"i'll think about it." that ultimately meant yes, your lips now pressing to his nose before letting him go.
the rest of the night was spent in the common room, you and the others chatting the night away and laughing over steaming mugs of hot chocolate and freshly brewed tea. regulus was practically glued to your hip, curled up under a blanket with you and letting you rest your head on his shoulder.
even though he didn't like the cold, regulus always felt all warm and fuzzy inside seeing just how happy you were whenever winter rolled around. ❄️
© m00nkissedlover, 2024
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inkedinshadows · 4 months ago
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Azriel headcanons
Since I'm working on too many fics and not finishing even one, here's a list of random headcanons I have about our favorite shadowsinger. Seriously, they're very random.
I have so many more, but I didn't want this to be too long lol. Let me know if I should write more of them.
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If it weren't for his scars that make it impossible for him (it'd probably be really uncomfortable), Azriel would wear rings. And I mean a lot of them, on both hands. Very slutty of him if you ask me. This is how I imagine it to look like:
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And necklaces as well. Like silver little chains and similar.
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Azriel is 100% a cat person. I don't think I need to say more, we can all agree on this, right?
The shadowsinger can sing, we all know that. But my current obsession is him playing the piano. He probably learned while healing his hands when he was a child because it helped with coordination. He's really good at it, but he doesn't play in front of people. Only for you. (I wrote a fic about this: Play It For Me)
He has a very neat handwriting. Again, he had to practice a lot after his hands were burned to use them properly again. I picture something like this:
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He's the kind of "monster" that eats pizza with a knife and fork instead of just cutting slices and using his hands (I'm Italian, I'm allowed to say this). He would also always stick to the same pizza, never changing the topping too much (relatable). He'd probably keep it simple, with mozzarella, black olives, and maybe anchovies if he feels extra.
Since we're talking food, if you are out on a date or just eating at a restaurant or whatever and you order something you end up not liking, he's swapping your dishes and giving you his. If you do like it but you also like his a lot, then he asks you if you want to share and eat half of each.
He's not a cocktail guy. Here as well, he likes to keep it simple: whiskey, brandy, wine if he's eating, and beer if he's hanging out with Cassian. If he does drink a cocktail, his go-to choices are Black Russian, gin and tonic, Old Fashioned, Manhattan, and Negroni (which might be an Italian cocktail, I'm not sure).
Oh, and he loves coffee. Black, no sugar, no cream. Mostly espresso, but also full mugs of it, especially in the morning.
Azriel loves turtleneck sweaters. Leather jackets are another favorite. When he's out, he mostly wears black or dark jeans, but at home? Sweatpants. Those infamous grey sweatpants we all love. Again, very slutty. He bought them without thinking too much about it, but once he saw your reaction to him wearing them, they became his favorite piece of clothing out of everything he had ever owned.
On the topic of clothing, we know he mostly wears black, but we also know he loves Winter Solstice. He could be easily convinced to wear one of those ugly Christmas sweaters, especially if you bat your eyelashes at him. He can never say no when you give him doe eyes. He'll complain about it, but he secretly loves it, even more so if you're wearing a matching one. The first three are nice and simple and cute, the other two if you want to embarrass him a little (but he still wouldn't say no):
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Same goes for Halloween. Couple costumes? He's down. Would he admit he likes it? Probably not. Would he refuse to do it until you're begging him to, just so he can see your cute pout? Absolutely. And of course, he lets you do his make-up.
He smokes. Not much, just 2/3 cigarettes throughout the day, but it can be more if he's stressed or nervous. (Just imagine the hand in the first picture with a cigarette, it's just the perfect position already. I don't smoke and I can't even stand the smell, but I would honestly let Azriel blow the smoke in my face fr)
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Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @andreperez11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate
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omega-e123 · 4 months ago
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Hey! Welcome in.
Keep good vibes around here, yeah? If the content isn't your cup of tea, kindly walk towards the exit, please. There are other pockets of space that will be to your liking! Venturing further, you may come across NSFW.
If you are a minor, please do not interact with my NSFW or be inappropriate.
Feel free to talk to me in my inbox! Whether it be sending in headcanons, gushing about Shadow, or or even saying “hello”, I'm all ears. ⁂ Do note I'm not one to take "requests". (they will most likely be deleted) ⁂ Answered ask tags: #➺ inbox , #➺ anon , #➺ [user] , ➺ inbox imagines (Imagines from you guys!)
Unrelated posts tag: #• the void speaks
─── ・ 。゚☆: *. ☽ .* :☆゚. ・ ───
✧.* Reader is usually written as a Mobian in mind, but can be read as human. Gender neutral.
✨: New 🐾: Explicitly Mobian
Masterlist:
Updated: 12/12/2024
𓆩⟡𓆪 Fics
✦ ... And He Chaos Controlled Away Not the best way to reveal your affection. A Week Before || The Incident || Conclusion
✦ Just One More Craving a proper kiss from him
✦ Joyride How is he picking you up for your date?
✦ Hesitation !! NSFW !! Suggestive. You've never gone past kissing, why? Suggestive
✦ Kabedon Exactly as stated. He pins you.
✦ Head Over Heals CW: Blood Mention You injure yourself trying on air shoes.
✦ In a Rut !! NSFW !! Smut. Being part hedgehog has its.. complications. Annual complications. Odd Behavior || Restraint || Indulgence || Adoration
✦ Aftercare When it becomes to much, “Chaos” is the safe word
✦ Comforting You had a rough day and he has the remedy to make it better
✦ Medicine Cabinet Shadow has his own little pharmacy at home
✦ Aboard the Ark You got sick and Shadow decides to bring you up to his previous home.
✦ One Too Many CW: Alcohol, Drunk You partied a little too hard and now it's time to go home.
✦ The Shadow Bakery 🐾 Sometimes the basic instincts of a cat can't be beat.
𓆩⟡𓆪 Headcanons
✫ Physical Contact
✫ Jealousy
✫ Royal Forbidden Love Lancelot!Shadow
✫ When You’re Sick
✫ The Winter Season
✫ Vampire!Shadow w/ @aelondrias
✫ Allergies
✫ Chronic headaches
✫ Trypanophobia (Fear of Needles)
✫ Shark Week
✫ Nightmare
✫ Birth Control During Rut !! NSFW !! Suggestive
✫ Perfect Present For You
✫ Misc. Anon
𓆩⟡𓆪 Minis
𓇻 Play Wresting
𓇻 Protecting you
𓇻 Chew Toy
𓇻 Softness of Your Hands
𓇻 His Tail
𓇻 First Time Affection
𓇻 Losing you
𓇻 Blood Transfusion
𓇻 The Ultimate…
𓇻 From behind !! NSFW !! Smut 🐾
𓇻 Grinding !! NSFW !! Smut
𓇻 Anxiety Attack
𓇻 Blood test
𓇻 Love Sick
𓇻 Grooming his Chest 🐾
𓆩⟡𓆪 Misc.
⋆ Who is Shadow? Mini personality analysis ig
⋆ Scenario Submission Black Doom / Mephiles threatening Shadow they'll hurt you by @aelondrias
⋆ Reincarnation (Not ship) What if Shadow found Maria again?
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fabricated-misslieness · 11 months ago
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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: alhaitham x gn reader
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ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: alhaitham answers a seamingly meaningless question while cuddling with you
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 562
ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: that this is the second time the reader is akin to a cat in an alhaitham fic is pure coincidence I swear. No beef vs dogs
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"What animal would you be?"
Kaveh had asked this on a stray night, a couple drinks in, buzzed and free but not sobbing-drunk as he always is. He had meant it as an innocent question, a fun fact, and said that he would love to be a lion, coincidentally his Darshan's insignia, because they looked cool—well, he listed a lot more reasons, but that's what it boiled down to.
Alhaitham that same night said it was meaningless to answer. It's not like one would be able to achieve such a thing–morphing into an animal–anyway. Thus, he did not answer, and neither had you at the time, since conversation had moved on quickly after Alhaitham had shut his former roommate down.
However, despite his claims of it being meaningless, it seems to have stuck to his mind. He finds himself pondering the question whenever his mind drifts off work, which is a rare occurrence in itself, since he is a very focused individual.
Would he be a dog? Absolutely not. A crow? No, he didn't much care for shiny things. On the broader spectrum, a solitary animal? No, he had you.
The question, after everything, proved to be quite challenging.
The answer finally comes to him on an empty weekend afternoon which he's got no choice but to fill with physical contact from his undoubted "love of my life"—he says it that way, but he's got plenty choice and he chooses without hesitation.
Alhaitham's holding you, and you are merely enjoying your time together, when he says, "I think I'd be a cat."
Quickly recalling the conversation, you perk up to follow up, "Yeah? How so?"
"They're solitary beings, to a point, both enjoying alone time and company." He nods to himself, "They have fine taste, unlike dogs, they groom themselves and display a sense of discipline regarding so. Plus, if I really was a cat, I would have nothing to do around the house except lounge around. I wouldn't have any work to do, which is always a plus."
"To be fair, Haitham," You snicker in return, "if you were any animal, you wouldn't have to work."
"I meant that as a cat, you don't even have the burden of "tricks" automatically placed on you." Of course he thought it through.
"Guess you're right." You snuggle closer to his chest, and he thinks that's that.
But then you're perking up again, pulling away from his tight embrace, turning it loose as you meet his eyes. "I think I would be a cat too."
"Oh, yeah?" He shifts too, interestedly.
"I'd get to show you my love that way." You grin up at him, and he can't help but to smile back, despite the lack of elaboration so far. "Cats kiss each other by licking, I think, and they cuddle all the time. Could you imagine laying under a stray ray of sun, together?"
Strangely enough, he can.
There's the warmth of the summer, or of heat in the winter, on his fur, hot but pleasant, and he's got yet another source of heat between his paws, so to speak. He can also imagine himself with a nice black coat, and you with an orange one. It's a nice thought, oddly domestic.
"Yeah." He hugs you closer, the thought freshly laid to rest behind his closed eyelids, and you can tell he's satisfied.
Finally, that's that.
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tothosewhoyearnforit · 24 days ago
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top 10 kpop girlies this year ?
might be a bit horny so bear w me
10,9,8
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zuha's been diff this year, a lot more extroverted and its birthing new ideas i used to not have about her. still wanna fold her in half so badly and fuck her tho.
nakyoung, well, she's like another karina of sorts and she's super sexy. her and karina black cat fic soon ? (kidding. unless...)
sullyoon, ab queen, and the amount of skin she's showing recently, proving she's not just a pretty face but a thicc ass and thighs girl too.
7,6,5
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xiaoting, this girl is just so pretty... and perfect...
sinb, something about her being a bratty fwb vibe girl kinda gets me going
winter, i love this girl.
4,3,2
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yunjin, where do i begin. she's so slender and tall, then there's that face that you just wanna fuck till she's a sloppy mess
chaewon, the prodigious tightest cumslut doll. how could i ever get her out of my mind
minji, she's a stunner, trust me. and that phat ass 🤤
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and at no.1, karina. tits, face, thighs, ass. impossible for her not to be on anybody's top 5
yujin, chaeryeong, chaehyun and fromis' chaeyoung are also some of the girls that have occupied my mind and my cock if ykwim
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grudgecollector · 1 month ago
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God Help The Fool
Pairing: Bo Sinclair / Reader
Summary: Even as a long time residence of Ambrose, you could have barely prepared yourself for what would happen tonight. Your curiosity pulling you closer and closer to the front door, to your doom.
Words: 827
Tags/Warnings: Blood, attempted murder, light descriptions of gore, descriptions of stabbing, Bo's anger
A/N: Um hello... It's been quite a while since I've written any sort of fan fiction in like two years probably, so I apologize if this isn't very good LOL
I have recently been hit with inspiration to write again. I've realized I really miss it.
In the future some of my fics may be a little more centered around Creep and Josef, but I did rewatch House of Wax for the first time in a while last night and it just makes me AGH
I'm not entirely sure how active I will be, but I'm hoping to revitalize this blog and make it into a home for me and anyone who has similar interests once again.
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Your ears ring, fingers tightening around the handle as you dig the knife deeper into the flesh of your sudden victim. Your eyes burn, tears threatening to drip down your bruised cheek. A cloudy puff of air comes from your parted lips, the cold winter wind biting into your skin. 
Dark green eyes were staring into your own with both rage and fear, his hands closing harder around your neck as he continued to try and strangle you. The air was being snuffed from your lungs, a fire building up in your chest as you struggled under his strength. 
It felt as if your neck would snap, the way the heel of his hand dug into your windpipe. 
You twisted the knife further into his torso, making him groan in pain. Whatever strength you had left you used, attempting to wiggle the knife around like a joystick on a jammed arcade machine. 
In this moment you felt like you could accept death. Whatever sins you have committed in your life have finally caught up in one foul game of cat and mouse. No matter how hard you tried to fight him off he stayed glued in his place, bloody spit coming to his lips before dripping onto your nose, down to your cheek. 
You heard a warped voice yell above you, it sounded so close yet so far away.
There was a sudden release of pressure around your throat, a harsh breath of cold air filling your burning lungs. You let out a wheezing cough, clutching your chest with a bloody hand as you attempt to suck in more air. 
The ringing in your ears never stopped, your head was spinning, you felt like you would throw up any second. 
Bright white dots blurred your vision, making it impossible to know which way you crawled.
In some way you believed you would be safe from the chaos that occasionally reigned through the quiet, empty town of Ambrose. No matter how much you have seen or heard during your time living here. 
It was tonight that your naivety finally caught up to you. A simple look out the front door ending in you almost dying. 
You should have listened to Bo when you told you to stay upstairs, you should have listened to Vincent when he told you not to move from the closet minutes later, and most of all you should have listened to Lester when he told you to not let curiosity get the best of you. 
There was a tingling sensation on the side of your face, numbness prickling your skin. 
Slowly, your eyes open to see Bo’s fiery ones, his forehead creasing in worry as he lightly caresses the skin around your throat. 
You knew he was angry with you, you could feel it radiating off of him as he stared down at you, chest heaving.
He grabbed your tired arms and hauled you to your feet, making you stumble forward into his chest, where you clutched onto his black button-up weakly. 
“I-” You attempted to choke out an apology, but your throat felt like sandpaper, forcing a cough from you once again. 
“Not now.” Was all he managed to say, his rage bubbling as he glanced over towards the now mangled corpse of the man. 
Bo could barely contain his blood lust in normal circumstances, but when he saw you on the ground like that? It was like something else entirely took him over. 
He wasn’t sure if it was the dominance inside him, watching as some stranger hurt what belonged to him, or if deep down it was the fear of losing something he loves. 
Either way, the younger man did not stand a chance against a seasoned killer such as Bo Sinclair. The wrench the older man wielded now lodged into the broken skull of your attacker, a now unusable body for Vincent’s evergrowing gallery of wax figures. 
Bo could not find it in him to care though, he knew a replacement would be lured in eventually. 
He slammed open the front door of the house, making his way to the kitchen towards his twin who had probably just come out from his studio. 
“Vincent! Take her, there’s still another out there somewhere.” Bo practically shoved you into his twin’s arms, “And do not let her out of your fucking sight.” His darkened eyes glared at you, something vulnerable swirling deep inside. 
You didn’t take his harsh tone to heart, having been with Bo for as long as you have, you have dealt with his outbursts before.
This felt different, though, while his anger was evident, the thing that stuck out to you more was the wetness in his eyes. 
His eyes did not linger on you for very long, his heavy boots stomping back towards the front door. The harsh closure of the door made the walls rattle, some small things falling from the shelves hung up on the walls. 
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robolvrr · 21 days ago
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Hi I just finished reading your Pharma fic and I must ask for more like this but maybe some more torture? If that makes you uncomfortable then feel free to not do it!
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debt collector. *. * ·
pharma x reader warnings: nsfw. mentions of medical torture. dark content. a back-alley doctor of all trades gives you deals too good to be true.
three knocks.
do you have a death wish?
the silence makes you wince. this night is bitter and your nose is ruddy, two moons overhung in the black beauty sky. gloved hands gingerly rub for friction, last ditch effort to gain some comfort. you know once this rusted door slides open, you won't be at ease and he will be there, watchful as a vulture's vice.
there should be no surprise when your miracle doctor is summoned, though you suppose the sizable difference in height and build is a factor. his smirk is a permanent fixture and what he lacks in pupils he offers in personal intrusions, crowding you inside with a croon of baritone greetings.
several mechanisms relock themselves. the mask covering the lower half of your face rolls down your chin, his colossus hands so precise, so tender, slipping your limbs free of a winter coat.
"my favorite patient. i do hope those.. prescriptions i've suggested you have been doing the trick."
originally, you had come here for the medical services. simple check-ins, an health examination every once in awhile. his rates were cheap and you had no insurance, so knowing a cybertronian of all things - billions and billions of years old no doubt with just as much field knowledge - quelled most of your concerns.
most of them.
pharma was an interesting mech. if he were a man, you're sure you'd fumble your tongue more. he has a funny way of getting you to agree with him.
"dear. i do adore our shared moments of silence just like any other, but i asked a question. how else am i to know my efficiency if you get all shy on me, mm?"
his grin tears some more seeing you squirm, mumbling an apology and turning your head as if he won't catch the warmth on your cheeks in the opposing mirror.
"sorry, pharma. to be honest.."
"yeees?" pharma sounds like he knows exactly what is bothering you.
"the medications.. they've been making me anxious. i think. i see things more than usual out of the corner of my eyes. i hear a thump and suddenly my heart is racing."
"no better than an alley cat, it seems." a grumble leaves your pout and he, still smiling wide and knowing, tuts in false concern.
"doctor, please. i know you told me these methods of yours were experimental. i'm organic. our biology is different, at its core. but i just need to sleep. that's all i need."
"all you need?"
his digit slips something gritty and round in your mouth. you swallow like the good patient you are, even though the flavor cakes your throat and makes you gag. it helps when he cups your throat, tickling the column of your neck.
he has such a way with touch. you forget you're frustrated.
"yes. i just want to sleep."
with a note of finality, his servos clap together, urging you to stay still. it may have been a few minutes, or hours, though it's unclear. there are no clocks down here. your head feels so heavy.
with a thunk, you are falling and with a grandiose hum, he is catching, placing you atop his table like a frankenstein doll.
sluggish muscles make way for well-crafted pins. acupuncture just edging discomfort, or is the fuzziness at the trim of your blank expression a sign of the end?
"then sleep you shall."
his voice echoes loud and glorious. an angel's choir - an angel of death.
the drilling pain kisses you again, fleets. you whimper, but he doesn't miss the jolt of your legs, or the shaky breath you gift his audials.
"i can gift you peace, sleeping beauty. i promise. however.. the subject of payment has been on the table for too long. i must collect."
schlick.
squishy and wet. hardness swelling where it shouldn't, nestled in your praising stare. lashes graze metal.
"speechless? you'll feel better after, sweet thing." in a corner of your mind dozens of atmospheres away, your sense of survival is thrashing in fear. it is not strong enough to pierce this hypnotic veil.
"in fact, you won't feel much at all."
pnk!
-
this room is warm and this table is cold and his hands, his hands, so big and perfect and familiar.
pharma's thumb slowly drags up along your cheek, before escaping back into his intake for him to taste-test. you think wearily that it's bright and tangy, just like the hues of his opulent frame.
"that's it. sink."
you smile.
a/n: thanks for the request! if i did get into darker stuff, like descriptive gore, i'd end up making a sideblog. also a giant prose writer so i like to leave things to the minds eye so to speak. if you can't tell, pharma and his versions of "romance" aren't sweet. will u match his freak? ;)
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taintandviolent · 1 year ago
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howlin' for you ; Kai Anderson x reader
summary: Winter throws a Halloween party, Kai dresses up as a werewolf, and “hunts” you, one of Winter’s hotter friends. How cute, you dressed up like a cat for the party. He knows that masked, it’s the only way you’d ever consider fucking him. w a r n i n g s: 3.4k words! hard to get!reader, dubcon / slight non-con, rough sex, unprotected sex, rough blowjobs, handjobs, mask kink, mentions of fucking in animal costumes, animal noises, despite all that this isn't a furry fic. a/n: [🎃 part of #lizzie's halloween fics! 🎃] baby's first Kai fic... be gentler than he was to reader. full fic & taglist under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / ♪ recommended playlist here! ♪
You peel your eyes open, reaching blindly for the flat, room-temperature can of soda on the floor.
“Hello?”
A pause. You take a sip.
“Hey Winter. Yeah… yeah, I’m still coming.”
She asks if you decided on a costume.
“Yeah, I’m going to wear that kitty outfit. The one with the fur on the tummy.” You sniff, and add: “Is your fuckin’ weirdo brother going to be there?”
Winter pauses. “Yeah, Y/N… we live in the same house. I can’t lock him in his basement.”
“I fucking will, then.”
“Go for it.”
You hang up the phone.
-
You take a deep breath and open the door. It’s crowded and there’s bodies everywhere; undulating to the music or clustered in corners. The room smells like the inside of your trick-or-treat bag as a kid; a melange of candy, fabric and latex. There’s a fog machine going in the corner, and it hisses as you walk by.
Winter has decorated the place adorably; black and orange streamers hang from every corner and are stretched across the entire living room. There’s bowls of candy on the coffee table, flanked by little paper table toppers of various spooky characters. As you walk by, you flick one, smiling as it bobbles back and forth.
You saunter across the living room, swaying your ass back and forth. You felt hot; the little sexy kitty decision had been a good one. So far, the Grease Lord hadn’t made his presence known - maybe he locked himself in the basement and didn’t want to play with Winter’s friends. Good.
Your head turns back and forth, surveying all the costumes. Most of them are minimal effort, but you appreciate the fact that they came dressed up at all. Better than the alternative of showing up in a ‘This is my costume’ t-shirt. One costume in particular catches your eye. Big werewolf. It’s a good costume; he’s got the whole ripped and shredded clothing thing going on, boot covers, gloves with claws and fur… this dude at least put in a little more effort than the guy wrapped in nothing but a sheet and telling people he’s Caesar.
Wolf stands in the corner, leaning against the wall and offering a nod to anyone who interacts with him. Whether or not that’s a part of his wolfish act, or just the bland personality of the dude in the costume, you aren’t sure. His head turns slightly, and you assume that he’s clocked you. You cover your mouth with your kitty mittens in a dramatic gasp as you pass him, amping up the scared kitty act. You throw in a little hiss as you round the corner. Very cute.
You head for the punch bowl, hoping that Winter made it because whenever Winter makes the drinks, they're good. Much to your relief, she’s actually there, refilling it. Sick. She’s dressed as a fallen angel and the black feathers on her wings flutter as she leans over the bowl.  
“Meeeeooooow,” you say, swiping at her halo with your furry mittens. She immediately recognises you and grins, happy that through all of your party fatigue from last night, you still made it to her party, too. You pull her in for a hug, swaying her back and forth. Winter was never a hugger, but you decidedly were, and made a show of it every time.  
“Have you seen Kai yet?” She asks, almost nervously as she hands you a cup with red liquid quivering at the top. You take a large gulp, savouring the perfect blend of punch and alcohol.
“Oh, so he is here. Great .” You take another sip. “But no, thank god. He seems like the type to hate cats, so hopefully he’ll leave me alone.”
She quirks a brow, questioning your statement.
“Nevermind.” Not a conversation you were ready for. When you turn to look back at the wolf in the corner, he’s gone. There’s something in your gut that gives you pause, but you chalk it up as a disappointment that the wolf had lost interest in his feline prey.
“I’m gonna’ mingle,” you say, wiggling your fingers at her.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn't do.”
“Oooh, that’s no fun.” You frown. “If you see Kai, tell him I hate him, pretty please.”
Winter looks uncomfortable. Underneath all his cringey faults, he is still her brother and your hate for him has always been extreme. She wondered if it’s something else… something less about trying to convince yourself to be nice to him and more about trying to convince yourself to hate him. She’d never dare say that to your face, though.
As you wander, there’s a few people you recognise and hold meaningless conversations with. That is, until the wolf is in your peripheral again. He’s holding a cup, but not drinking from it. Probably because he couldn’t… not without taking his mask off. Which, given his current objective, seemed counterproductive. Curiosity killed the cat, they say, and you were curious… so you ended your current conversation, darted around the corner, and picked up a casual one with a mutual friend. Thomas? Brad? Despite digging your fingers deep into your brain, you couldn’t recall the poor bastard’s name. It didn’t matter; your eyes flitted back and forth, surveying your surroundings. Not more than a minute later, he was there again, nestled into the opposite corner. Close enough that you could see him, but far away enough that you wouldn’t notice, if you weren’t paying attention. Fortunately for him, you were. Your heart skipped a beat, thudding behind your ribcage.
“Hey, hold that thought - I’m gonna’ get more punch.” They can hardly hear you over the heavy music, but nod anyway.
You race back to the kitchen, and before you get there, the wolf is waiting at the archway, one arm braced up against it. You swallow the lump in your throat, feeling an unmistakable heat in your belly. This chase is turning you on.
Shit.
“Here, kitty-kitty….”
His voice sounds familiar; it’s throaty, but there’s a medium-pitched bite to it. You can’t place it, try as you might. “Do I know you?”
He shakes his head very slowly and very honestly, the little faux-fur fibres around his ears swaying with the action. You believe him, or pretend you do, because the concept of fucking some random werewolf-masked individual is way hotter than finding out it was some dork you met twice at another party.
You turn sharply on your white high heels, and start walking in whatever direction isn’t inundated with people. Regrettably, that’s headed towards the basement. You can feel him rampaging, gaining on you, hearing his heavy steps creaking behind you. For a second, you’re almost afraid. He barks low and catches up to you faster than you anticipated, and when he backs you against the wall, he pins your arms above your head with one hand. His chest heaves as he stares at you, waiting for you to say something. You don’t. Instead, you lean your head against the wall, laughing towards the ceiling. The steps to Kai’s weirdo basement are directly to your right. You hear the TV downstairs, immediately assuming it’s something political. Maybe he’ll hear you fucking this guy. You hope he does. You really do — and you hope it irritates the hell out of him.
“Ohhh, who’s a big bad wolf?”  You yank one of your hands free of his grip to feel his boner outside of his tattered jeans. It’s thick and hot, so you stroke it a little. He gives you a throaty ‘Awwooo’ and involuntarily bucks his hips into the palm of your hand, forcing heavier friction. The chase must’ve got him going. It got you going, that’s for sure. You can feel your cunt aching, and clenching every time he thrusts into your hand.
You move your hand away, pulling an angry groan from the werewolf. With a smile, you run your fingers deeply through the little tuft of grey and white fur that’s peeking out from his flannel. Fur grinds against fur as he humps your hand, heavy breaths echoing from inside the mask.
“Big…. Bad wolf…” you say again, sniggering. You’re delighted by his horny aura. That was one thing about Winter’s punch — it was strong. “You want me to blow your house down?”
He nods, and you sink to your knees, watching as he makes quick work of his jeans. He pulls the two pieces of fabric apart and reaches into his boxers, allowing his cock to spring free. It bounces heavily in front of your face, beads of clear collecting at the slit. Your tongue darts out of your mouth, running along the ridge on the underside of his cock before reaching the tip, and lapping the pre-cum up like the good little kitty you are. It’s heavy on your tongue, so you alleviate some of the weight by grabbing it.
His cock is hot to the touch when you grip it, and you revel in the way the warm, supple skin moves beneath your grip. You roll your fingers one by one over the tip of his cock, playing with it. He groans above you, looking down as far as the mask will allow. When it’s not enough, he bends forward, arching over you.
He has a better visual now, and his chest starts to heave with every pass of your fingers. When the teasing becomes too much, he takes a fistful of your hair, and yanks it back. Your silky hair slips easily through the rubber claws, so he pauses, and rips the gloves off, tossing them down the stairs. You hope Kai trips over them. He grips your hair again, much harder this time and forces your gaze upwards to stare at him. Stare up at the beast who could annihilate you, kill you if he wanted to. Your cunt flutters, hot and wet and leaking into the polyester fibres of your costume.
He pinches your jaws, applying pressure to force them open. His grip strength is fucking insane, and you wince, letting out the tiniest mewl. His other hand hangs at his side, and the veins are swollen, trailing up into the sleeve like thick roots. Satisfied with the way that your pretty little mouth hangs open, waiting and eager, he grips himself and wastes no time. He slaps the tip of his cock onto your tongue over and over again, before pulling your head towards it. Your throat immediately seizes up, but you force it to distend, to relax. A wave of icy panic settles over you like someone’s draped a sheet over your shoulders. He’s going to throat fuck you. You see his eyes darting around your face, watching your mouth, your eyes…
Your eyes immediately begin to water as his meaty dick violates your mouth; pressing into the back of your throat, bumping into your cheeks to stretch them out, grazing along your teeth when your jaws involuntarily close in hopes of hindering his thrusts. It doesn’t work. Both hands are pressed against the wall, fingers splayed out. He pounds into you, slipping in and out of your perfect little throat.
He fucks it harder, groaning louder and louder. The hollow sound of his cock hitting the back of your throat almost sends him over the edge. Your breath is sticky with his pre-cum, and every time you try to pull your head back for a reprieving gulp down, he slams his hips into your mouth, bumping the back of your skull against the wall with a thud.
Desperate, you reach up, wrapping your slender fingers around his cock, tightening around the base until he pulls away, looking down at you.
“Aren’t you going to fuck me?” You ask, putting on your best coy kitty voice in hopes that it will end the merciless barrage on your throat. Your words are congealed and messy, airways still coated with his fluids. He considers this for a moment, a whole slew of thoughts playing out. Finally, he nods, and hastily brings you to your feet.
Grateful that the diversion was working, you reach down between your legs, finding the cloth covered zipper and pull it open. It was added for convenience, and it certainly served that purpose as the werewolf guided his heavy cock into your wet, waiting slit. At first, he toys with it, smearing his head over your puffy, sensitive clit and pulling desperate, whining gasps from your mouth every time he drags it upwards. But soon, that isn’t enough for him, and he buries himself in you, plunging his cock to the base. The stretch of your walls, your cunt doing her best to accommodate his girth, had you crying out. He was bigger than you’d prepped yourself mentally for, but at least your pussy was gushing with lubrication, ready for every bit of what he had to give you.
He found his speed quickly, humping you with reckless abandon. Trying to find something - anything to use as leverage to hold onto, your fingers slipped into the slit on the backside of the mask, toying with almost shoulder length strands of hair. They’re soft, and slightly wavy. Wait. Not that other guys couldn’t have wavy hair, but the thought is too overwhelming. Lightning fast, you reach for the mask, pulling it up just above his chin and Kai’s vascular hand catches yours, holding it tight. The visual is enough for you to realise.
“No fucking way.”
Immediately, he yanks the mask back down over his face and cups his hand over your mouth, suppressing the scream that he knew was coming. He’s pressing hard enough that the cartilage in your nose begins to ache. You stare hard into the eyes of the werewolf, breathing heavy through your nostrils as you’re seeing what you hadn’t seen before. Those dark, almost black brown eyes staring back at you. The same ones that you’d seen roll at you or glare at you so many times before. The same fucking ones.
You heard his chuckling breath behind the mask. He leaned forward, pressing the latex nose against your ear and began panting into it obnoxiously, like a dog. His thrusts matched his breath, his rock hard cock pounding up into you remorselessly.
You wrestle away from his hand, freeing your mouth enough to speak. “Get your fucking dick out of me, Kai.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He thrusts harder and crams his fingers in your mouth, as though he’s pulling your next words from your throat. You bite down and he groans through clenched teeth. You feel his cock twitch inside you. He likes this.
“Is that what you really want? Say it and I’ll stop.”
You struggle with the words, they won’t leave your lips the way you want them to. You can feel your own arousal leaking down your thighs in response to the way his dick is hitting every spot.
“I knew it. Always have.”
That infuriated you, but you couldn’t argue. Not with his fingers in your mouth, or the veins of his thick cock massaging your insides better than any of your dildos at home did.
“I knew you didn’t hate me,” he started. You could hear it in his voice that one of his egocentric, mansplaining, delusional monologues was on the way. Usually, you’d just roll your eyes at Winter and turn to your phone, but he had you in a position where you had to listen. He liked that, too. You let out a loud moan as he hammered inside of you, hoisting one leg up to your chest.
“The opposite, actually. You act like such dumb little slut around me, so angered by everything I do. I see through it. Your act. Much like waving a bloody steak in front of a hungry dog, your salivating is irrepressible.”
Did he really just say what you thought? “Listen, you piece of —“
He forces you to cut yourself off with another moan, pressing your leg farther into your chest. Your cunt swallows him whole with every thrust, and the hatred you have for him is leaking out of your pussy and along your thighs.
You slam your head against the wall, letting your neck go slack. It feels so good, Kai feels so good.
“Say it, say you fuckin’ like it…”
You shake your head. You won’t give him that satisfaction. His bare hand rears up, and comes down across your face. Your cheek burns with stinging, searing pain before you even have time to process that he’s just slapped you - backhanded you with months of pent up rage and frustration. Enraged, you reach for the mask, yanking it off and tossing it down the stairs where it tumbles to the bottom step. His greasy strands are separated with sweat, and a sheen of it covers his shapely nose and forehead. There it is; the face that was the receptor of so many insults, so much hatred. Every time you saw it, you ran your mouth like a schoolyard bully with a crush.
“I will fucking kill you….” Anger dribbles out of your mouth like spit. You wanted him to see you say that unobstructed.
“Yeah?” Kai challenges, reaching down to thumb your clit like the joystick of a game controller. He’s smiling, absolutely delighted by your intrinsic, feminine anger. Your recalcitrance fuels him further, and he bucks his hips up into your cunt, the head of his cock bumping deep into you, as far as it can go. You writhe under his grip, clenching your teeth. It almost hurts, but he’s building it, faster and deeper, and the burning coil in your stomach winds tighter. It burns just above your bladder. You feel like you have to piss, and Kai says,
“Defiant little slut.”
Seconds later, you’re losing it over his cock, your orgasm splashing over his jeans and your furry legs.
He doesn’t stop fucking you and within a few thrusts, you’re so severely overstimulated that your legs are quivering. Briefly, you become aware of the Halloween music that’s playing out in the living room. A salty ribbon of sweat drips into your eyes, stinging.
“S-stop, fuck… stop.”
He ignores you and keeps fucking you, drilling your swollen cunt like it’s a tournament and he’s determined to win it. And when he does, Kai grips your throat and holds your jaw in place. He assertively holds your gaze as he shoots his hot, thick load into your weeping pussy, making sure you wished that you hadn’t taken the mask off.
His once prevalent boner was now fading away, and Kai stuffs it back into his jeans, keeping his eyes on you for a moment longer before he turns and casually descends his basement steps. He stops to pick up the mask, swinging it back and forth like a child’s toy.
Doused in sweat and anger, you want to collapse to the floor and scream. Instead, you zip yourself up, wiping your slick fingers off on your thighs, and somehow manoeuvre around the crowds to the bathroom. You reel around and lock the door, before turning to the sink.
You brace yourself, holding yourself over the sink’s basin. You look at yourself in the mirror; your cute little whiskers are smeared on one side, and streaks of mascara are running down your cheeks in its place. Your black nose is rubbed off, undoubtedly smeared in Kai’s bush of pubic hair. Fucker. Your pink lipstick is practically gone, the only remnants are a faint hue around the perimeter.
As you stood there in Winter’s bathroom, head hanging over the sink, you searched for the disgust, panicking as you rifled through your mind to find the inevitable horror that you were going to experience. You were ruined by that cringe monkey — he violated you. Right? You waited for the gag, the vomit even, to hurl itself up your throat. That was what was supposed to happen after something like that… wasn’t it? The disgust? The anger?
But it wasn’t coming. In fact, something much more alarming had settled in its place. Your cunt still felt warm, and you rubbed your thighs together, smearing the mixture of cum into the soft kitty fur. You felt invigorated. You hadn’t been fucked like that…. Ever. You heaved a sigh of relief like someone who had been submerged underwater, and was suddenly let up.
You reach into your discreetly placed thigh pocket and pull your phone out, hurriedly swiping past the notifications that flooded your screen. You pull up Messages, and tap on Winter’s icon. She’s in your pinned contacts, a favourite.
I found your brother
You hit send.
Almost immediately, the status went from delivered to read, but Winter didn’t reply. You know why, and she knows why.
You might’ve hated Kai. But your pussy didn’t.
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t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @redwoodghost / @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @tatesdisasterofalover / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @evansb1tch / @enchanting-evan / @yesdevineruler / @enchanting-evan / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @violetharmonscupcake/ @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @piecesofcain / @lilthbunny / @quickandsilvers / @tatelangdonsweater / @ifeeltoofuckingmuch / @howtobesasha / @randodummy /
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insilanar · 1 year ago
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Any lestappen fic rec to share ? 😣 Any favourite author on ao3! I need some!
Hi anon 😘 Of course! In fact I've actually been working on a personal fic rec, so I'm glad I get to share it with you!
Here you go, hope you enjoy <3
Lestappen fic rec
Short-ish fics 🩵
control systems a College AU by @itsgoingdutchin2021 | 1.2 k
Summary:
Due to an unfortunate encounter in their freshman year, both Charles and Max hate each other. Then they are assigned a group project.
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
<3
your hands are cold a High School AU by dhufflebee | 3.9 k
Summary:
“I feel like this event should really be called ‘Frosty Fusion’ or something like that.”“That is, of course, incredibly stupid.”“Hey!”“It doesn’t mean that ‘Snowmen Competition’ isn’t the most boring name ever, though.”OR: long-time friends and rivals Charles and Max hail from neighboring schools, and brave the biting cold, the challenges of snow sculpture, and their own buried feelings
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
<3
Kiss It Goodbye (Your Little Panic Attack) F1 Fic by @celientjeee | 5.1 k
Summary:
‘What- How did you do that?’ Charles asked, he still felt a bit shaken and hot, but the tingling had disappeared.Max smiled at him and let his hands drop away from Charles’ cheeks.‘I once read that holding your breath could stop a panic attack and when I kissed you, you held your breath.’‘I did?’ Charles winced at how high his voice sounded. OR: Charles gets a panic attack and Max helps him (more than once)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
<3
Fics between 10 k and 20 k 🧡
Cheating at Bingo and Other Christmas Traditions a Cozy Winter AU by @wanderingblindly | 12.4 k
Summary:
"You know, there’s a very nice, very handsome young man in my neighborhood –” She starts back up, flagging down their waiter for another glass of wine.“Absolutely not,” He cuts her off with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Next topic.”“So you’re too good for him, is that it?” She sounds defensive, but her tone still has a mocking edge to it – emphasized by the quirk of her brows.Hardly holding back a groan, Charles tries to think of a way out of this. She’s like a cat, batting at him until he gives up, rolls over, and plays dead. “That’s not – I’m just busy, and it’s –” OR: Hallmark style fluff featuring an irritated Charles, a well-meaning Max, and the grandma that just wants them to kiss
Rating: General Audiences
<3
Golden Hour a Uni AU by Chariots4 | 13.2 k
Summary:
Max is a great roommate. So great that when Lando asks him to be part of a music video he’s filming he does so, without asking what it will be about.Turns out he will have to model with no other than Charles Leclerc. As lovers. The two men’s desire to not be outdone by the other takes the whole thing to new levels.
Rating: Explicit
-> This is also a personal favorite of mine since it was my first ever Formula 1 RPF fic and honestly, it's written amazingly well!👌
<3
oui chef a Chef AU by @sunshineyoujustwait | 16.2 k
Summary:
There’s someone standing in his kitchen.He looks young, maybe close to Max’s age, with messy dark brown hair that’s pulled back from his face by a red bandana, and he’s leaning against the kitchen counter like he’s supposed to be here.Max’s first rather unhelpful thought is; fuck, he’s gorgeous. His second, more reasonable thought is;“Who the fuck are you?”“Charles Leclerc,” the man smiles. It's a little bit dazzling and Max is not at all distracted by it. He extends his hand for Max to shake. “I’m your new executive sous chef.” OR: Max is very happy with his life, thank you very much. He has his restaurant, his team, and two Michelin stars at the age of 24. He definitely does not need some pretentious Monegasque chef coming in and throwing everything into chaos.Except, maybe he does.
Rating: General Audiences
<3
you got me a College AU by @fueledbyremembering | 16.6 k
Summary:
When Max looks up he stares into pretty green eyes behind black rimmed glasses. His hand is still blindly feeling around to find the books—his brain lagging—as he stares at the guy from last night. He straightens up and Max follows, staring dumbly as he holds out the books for Max to take.“Thanks,” Max says, feeling like an idiot as he takes the books, their fingers brushing for a split second. This was not how he wanted to meet again. “Again, I’m so sorry.”The guy smiles and Max thinks he might just die a little when he notices he has dimples. Of course he has dimples. OR: Max falls head over heels for the cute guy at a college party and he can't stop thinking about him (aka the lestappen college au nobody needs).
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
<3
Fics above 30 k ❤
Late night devil put your hands on me a Thief/Detective AU by @f1-giuki | 42.1 k
Summary:
"Do you want to know what is more incredible?" Max asks, staring at Charles' full and round pecs without any shame. "What?" Charles asks, enjoying how Max's cheeks get redder and redder as he licks clean the fork. "Stealing the Nine Pieces of Eight, with me," Max says and Charles drops his fork in the plate. "The Nine pieces of eight? Isn't that like a legend? The owner of those artworks is unknown…" The Monegasque asks, furrowing his brows. Max grins and rolls his eyes. "I know a guy..." Max says, pulling Charles close by the elastic band of his boxers. OR: World-class thief Max Verstappen asks Interpol Detective Charles Leclerc out on a date (to put on the world's most complicated heist ever conceived) but things never go as planned.
Rating: Mature
<3
To Your Heart’s Content a Mafia AU by @cornerofacry | 119.4 k
Summary:
Max pinched the bridge of his nose as he went into the car. Before his chauffeur could close the door, however, Daniel leant in, having rushed from the bar’s entrance."I forgot to tell you…" the Australian begun, his face serious and grave.Max gritted his teeth, silently nodding for the man to continue. He couldn’t stand much more. He wanted to scream at the entire world. To run home and hide and force some sense down his own throat.To put himself back together."I left a- a gift at your house. For your birthday… I planned it long ago, before-""Alright," Max cut him, short and harsh. OR: Charles, a high end prostitute, finds himself in the arms of a man who really, really, cares for him, despite the gun on his nightstand.
Rating: Explicit
<3
Favorite lestappen authors 💕
NovaCloud, Richardmarie75, WanderingBlindly, xxcelientje, amarynas, charlescoded, LestappenForever, linearity
Note to the authors: If your fic is on here and you would like me to take it down I will. Feel free to just dm me about it or drop and ask 😌
And anon I hope you find something you like on this list!
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crappy-writings · 4 months ago
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The Run and Go
Natasha RomanoffxEx-Widow!Reader // Enemies to Lovers(Ish), Angst, Series (?)
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*Images are not mine, credit to its sources and creators
Prompt: You, an ex-Red Room graduate turned mercenary, take up an assignment to retrieve some sensitive information from the Triskelion. You run into Natasha as you escape, much to your anger. You can’t seem to escape her after this first encounter as different circumstances force you to work together.
Summary: The Triskelion’s infiltration was going so well. That was until a certain redhead makes an appearance, leading to a long-awaited confrontation.
Trigger Warning: Poorly researched hacking concepts and lingo, bad spy/escape sequence, guns, google-translated Russian, swearing, canon-typical violence, implied/mentioned physical and emotional child abuse, the Red Room, bad fight scene, minor injury, let me know if I need to add more.
Word Count: 3,858
A/N: Did I watch Iron Man 2, Captain America and the Winter Soldier and Black Widow, analyzing Nat’s and other Widows’ fight styles? Yes, yes I did. Was I successful in writing an interesting fight scene in line with what I saw? Probably not, no, but here we are. 
Let me know if anything needs to be fixed!
Part 2 ->
Main Masterlist | MCU Masterlist | Recced Fics
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Breaking into the Triskelion had been almost effortless. It was easy to slip into its walls without raising suspicion, to become invisible once inside. No one expects a mouse to simply walk into the cat’s den. Then again, you were not a mouse, and the cat thought itself untouchable. 
There was no air of importance to your stride, no urgency in your steps. Your clothes showed little rank, most agents barely sparing you a first glance as you walked through the hallways alongside them, not realizing you were most definitely not one of them. Pride was always the downfall of man, you thought. 
The hallways and floors all seemed the same to you. The absence of windows was glaring in the lower levels, being only lit up by white, fluorescent lights, basking the stone walls in a similar hue. The floors were a familiar, polished, gray color, reflecting the light upwards. Despite the unoriginality of the corridors, you’re able to find the control room rather quickly, having already memorized the interior layout of the building before even dreaming of stepping inside. It was somewhat dark inside the control room, mainly lit up by the several rows of screen monitors and a few of the same fluorescent lights that decorated the hallways.
There was a singular agent in there when you stepped inside. He barely looks up from his screen, unbothered by your sudden intrusion. You pick a desk and sit down, beginning your search for the files your employer had asked for. 
There was a vulnerability in one of the system's firewalls, one you quickly exploited. It took you longer than you wanted to admit, but you were able to completely break through it, making it easier to find the necessary files. A cough interrupted your concentration, causing you to turn to look at the agent sharing the space with you. His eyes never strayed from his own monitor, raising a cup to his lips as he continued to type away on his keyboard. After confirming you were still in the clear, you returned to your work.
It took you a few extra minutes to find the ones you were looking for but were able to download all of them onto the pendrive given to you by your employer. Once you had everything, you deleted all the information you took from S.H.I.E.L.D.’s servers. You even deployed a nasty virus that will keep them occupied for a few days for good measure. 
There is a small part of you that feels satisfaction at having been able to take something from the organization as easily as you had. You stand nonchalantly from the seat you had claimed as yours, approaching the communal pot of coffee hidden away in one of the room’s corners. The singular agent hidden behind his monitor just barely acknowledges you, his eyes leaving his monitor for a few seconds before returning to his work. You serve yourself some coffee in a paper cup, taking a few sips before slipping out of the room.
The problem had never been getting in. No, it was about getting out.
The walk to the elevator was relatively short, the hallway empty as you made your way towards it. It was almost eerie, the way things were going, given that it was typically around this part where you would walk into some form of trouble. You knew that downloading that information was going to tip off some server moderators, adding an extra layer of difficulty to your escape. Even so, the invisibility you have managed to maintain is still your greatest weapon.
Two agents stepped out of the elevator once it had reached your floor. One of them acknowledged you with a singular nod while the other barely spared you a glance. 
You step into the now empty space, the computer screen showcasing your face, along with a fake alias and a serial ID number. The creation and uploading of the fake S.H.I.E.L.D. agent profile had taken you weeks to accomplish, but its completion was the key to slipping in and out of the building mostly undetected. Having some of the organization’s face-changing technology would have made the infiltration a lot easier, but that technology is too safely guarded for you to have been able to get your hands on it. 
The doors had not shut closed yet, waiting for you to state your destination. “Lobby,” a voice that is not your own rings out from your vocal cords. The voice moderator that you had nicked from one of your past jobs had come quite in handy, especially for this mission. The piece of technology was hidden away under the collar of your stolen uniform, its detection nearly impossible. 
“Confirmed,” the automated voice of the computer rang out into the enclosed space, and finally began its descent. Breathing was becoming an easier task as you were one step closer out the Triskelion’s door. 
The elevator stopped a few times as it continued to go down, letting agents in and out on different floors. Most of their trips were short, some engaging in small talk before exiting the confined space. 
“Controls,” an older man dressed in a blue suit commanded, followed by the computer’s robotic voice, “Confirmed.” He had a kind face, dark brown eyes aged with crow’s feet and his hair white and thinning.
“Working hard or hardly working?” the man asked, his tone light and jovial, as the elevator continued its descent. You sent him a friendly smile, adding a small chuckle for good measure. 
“Not sure yet,” you replied, not dropping the smile, “Every day is unpredictable in S.H.I.E.L.D.”
The man replied with a chuckle of his own, “That, it is.” The elevator opened into another level, allowing the man to step out. He sends you a friendly smile as he departs, leaving you alone in the confined space once more.
You reach the lobby shortly after. The space was wide, a glass canopy overhead, allowing the warm glow of sunlight to stream in. The walls were decorated with a mixture of off-white stone, dark tile and stained wood, the floor a dark gray that complemented the space nicely. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s emblem was showcased proudly in the very center of the room, reminding everyone who walked inside of where they stood.
The lobby was full of people, some dressed in nice, neutral-colored suits, while others were dressed in tactical gear. Security hung around the entrances and exits, eyes sharp as they overlooked the crowd. 
There was purpose in your stride now. The longer you took to get out, the larger the possibility of getting caught. It was only a matter of minutes before someone noticed the missing information that burned in your uniform pocket, if they did not know already. 
You made your way across the lobby unperceived. The sense of satisfaction from a successful mission had begun to bloom in your chest as you easily blended into the large group of agents that zipped in and out of the building. That was until you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, the sensation of a pair of eyes staring you down from somewhere behind you making you come to a stop.
Your eyes scanned the room methodically, until you spotted a set of familiar green eyes and fiery red hair, ones you thought you would never see again. There was a flicker of recognition in her features, but it lasted for less than a second, slipping on her perfectly crafted mask of indifference, her expression unreadable as neither of you break eye contact. A wave of burning hot emotion overcomes you, before you stamp it out. Emotion is a weakness. Emotion is for children. Emotion gets you killed. 
Neither one of you had looked away from each other, as if a silent conversation was being held between the both of you. You subtly raise your head, your eyes narrowed and daring. It was a silent challenge, and invitation to your long-awaited encounter. It was a dangerous game to play while in the confines of hundreds, if not thousands, of highly trained agents, especially when one of those agents was Natasha Romanoff, but it was one you would play, nonetheless. 
You’re the first one to break eye contact with her, quickly becoming invisible within the crowd of agents. A cat has spotted you and was about to give chase. 
It would almost be thrilling to be running from the Black Widow turned Avenger, were it not for the blazing resentment snaking its way through your chest. It had been years since you last saw her, her defection to the very organization you just stole from had left you filled with a sense of bitterness and betrayal. 
The rest of your journey towards the garage went uninterrupted, but you know she was somewhere nearby, following your moves closely as you weaved through the lower levels. Spotting the redhead had suddenly made you itch for a fight, adrenaline fueling your body. 
Your bike comes into view as you reach the final garage level. The vehicle was hidden away in a secluded part of the parking space, far away from the other cars. The keys jingled in your hand as you pulled them out of your uniform pocket. You would have closed the distance between you and your escape, except that you felt her ghost-like presence lurking from behind you, finally making herself known. 
With a singular deep breath, you stick your hand out to the side, showcasing your keys to her before tossing them forwards, the sound of metal clattering against the smooth asphalt a few feet from your motorcycle.
“I didn’t expect to ever see you again, Romanoff,” your modified voice echoed in the vastness of the garage. Your hand instinctively reaches for your concealed gun, pulling it out in one swift movement as you turn to face her.
“I would say the same to you,” she stood a few feet away from you, her stance paralleling yours, guns raised and aimed at each other’s heads. Her eyes had a hard edge to them as she stared you down, “Why are you here?”
“Just seeing the sights of Washington, D.C. There’re so many museums here, you know?” there is vexation in your tone despite your sarcastic words, “Plus, how could I skip out on admiring the Triskelion’s architecture? Bet the engineers had fun building it.”
The both of you had stepped closer to each other without realizing it, her firearm about a foot away from your own. She ignores your quip, instead choosing to make a go for your gun. You mirror her movements, both of you trading guns before aiming them at one another once more. 
Neither of you said anything as you continued to stare each other down, the tension thick enough to be cut by the edge of a knife. Her eyes were studying yours, searching for something and you’re not quite sure what it is. There was a subtle change in her stance shortly after as she dared you to make the first move. So, you did. You went for her gun again, this time flinging it across the empty garage, the piece of metal skidding across the asphalt. She does the same, the Red Room’s training being activated on pure instinct. 
The beginning of your fight was not a fight at all, though. You were both following a basic combat sequence of simple parries and blows taught to you in the confines of the Red Room. The drill was the one that was taught to the youngest of girls, set to provide them with the basics. It was more of a dance for the both of you, perfectly choreographed and in sync with the others' familiar response. It was child’s play.
For a brief moment, you felt like you were back in the Red Room, the both of you locked in the familiar dance as your handlers watched you engage in a sparring match. The parries and blows you sent each other’s way were predictable, neither of you having the heart to truly fight and hurt the other. Your punishments for your defiance would vary, the ones you remember most being obligated to practice the same ballet move until your feet bled. The other usual punishment was to be made to fight an older Widow, one that would not hesitate to hurt you, to teach you a lesson for holding back. Eventually, your sparring sessions no longer started with the predictable routine of parries and blows, replaced by hard tackles to the ground, bruising kicks and skin-breaking hits.
Old habits die hard, it seems.
Your mind snaps out of it as she grabs hold of your arm mid-swing before securing a hold over your shoulder, allowing her to throw you onto the ground. The wind is knocked out of your lungs, and it takes you a few seconds too long for you to recover. 
“What did you do?” She asks as she manages to hold you in place, her legs straddling your waist while her arms have you pinned down against the ground.
“That’s not your concern, dorogoy,” you smirk up at her as you smash your forehead against her mouth. The distraction allows you enough time to securely grab her by her forearms, your freed legs find her stomach, flipping her over you. She lands roughly a few inches over your own head, the force of the flip enough to leave her stunned for a few moments, allowing you to quickly get to your feet.
“I have to go,” the voice moderator that had been hidden under your collar was knocked loose, your voice sounding strange as you taunt her, “It was nice seeing you.”  You were scooping your bike’s keys from the ground before she pushed you into the vehicle, knocking you both onto the ground.
In hindsight, it was dumb of you to believe she would stay down. 
The back of your head hits against the floor, stars filling your vision for a few moments, your bike tangled under your feet. You feel her grab the fabric of your stolen trainee uniform, dragging you away from your bike and towards one of the garage's walls. 
You struggle against her, managing to break free from her hold. Once back on your feet, you send a few firm punches her way, and she is unable to dodge a few of them. 
You were sloppy in your attack though, as she gets a firm grasp on your arm once more. Her other hand gets a hold of your shoulder and pushes you back up against the building, slamming you against the wall once, twice, three times. A string of coughs escapes you, air not reaching your lungs. You feel the fight begin to leave your body and hate that she was able to incapacitate you. In a last-ditch effort, you press your hands against her face, forcefully pushing against her with all your might. This somewhat works, placing a bit more space between you, enough for you to raise your leg, and knee her in the stomach. This sends her back a few inches and you send another swift kick to the affected area. Your legs react before your mind does, trying to close the distance between you and your knocked over bike, the keys within your view on the ground.
You were still a few feet away when you felt a sharp and burning sting emanate from your lower back, your body locking up against your will and effectively sending you tumbling to the ground. She threw a fucking Widow Bite at you.
“Cheater!” you yell at her, your body completely unable to move. She catches up to you, one arm cradling her stomach, before grabbing you by the scruff of the stolen uniform and dragging you up against the nearest wall. Your body felt numb, every single one of your nerve endings having been lit on fire mere seconds ago.
“I’m not gonna ask you again, what the fuck are you doing here?” her tone is hard and almost dangerous, her eyes scanning over every single one of your features in search of any telltale signs of a lie. It was only now that you realized that she was bleeding from her slightly swollen lip, a trail of crimson running down her chin. There’s a small, sick sense of pride that settles within you as you watch the blood flow from the split lip you gave her. 
“Fuck you, Romanoff, I don’t owe you shit,” the familiar sparks of anger were building up inside your chest. 
“Answer the question,” her tone is even and low. It was not until now that you realized she had picked up one of the discarded firearms, the barrel of the gun being pointed directly at your head. Something within you was emboldened by this, leaning forwards as the tip of the gun presses lightly against your forehead.
“You’re not gonna shoot me,” your eyes staring directly into hers in defiance.
“How are you so sure about that?” she asked through narrowed eyes, digging the barrel further into your skin, her finger hugging the trigger but not squeezing it. 
“Because you would have shot me the second you saw me if you truly wanted me dead,” you reply, and the words taste bitter in your mouth. There is a visceral hatred in the gaze you level at her, the teasing air that had coated your initial confrontation having completely dissolved. 
“Why are you so angry at me?”
The question had been so simple. It made you want to explode. 
“Did-did you seriously just ask me that? I have to tell you?” you almost choke on the acidity that coursed through your tongue as you spoke those words. A bitter laugh makes its way past your lips, your head shaking slightly as a sense of indignation floods your chest. 
“Tell me Natalia, did you think that everything would be magically solved the day you defected?” The burning sensation of unfiltered anger and overwhelming resentment are spilling out of you, and you do your best to push them away forcefully. Your mask cannot break. Your mask will not break.
Emotion is a weakness. Emotion is for children. Emotion gets you killed.
The words repeated over and over again in your head, a never-ending chant driven into you by your handlers. Emotion had always been the one thing that you struggled with in the program as a child, constantly making you hesitate and clouding your judgment. Your handlers recognized this weakness in you, and they worked you tirelessly, trying to stomp it out of you. Your struggle against emotion is what got you recycled four times before you finally graduated.
Natasha’s face gave away no indication of what she was thinking. Her features were schooled perfectly into a mask of indifference, and that made you all the more angry.
“I had to get out,” she defends herself; the gun being slightly lowered. 
“I don’t care,” you want to yell, you want to scream, but you don’t, “You leaving made The Red Room all the more difficult to survive.”
Something about what you just said made a crack in Natasha’s mask. It was nearly imperceivable, but you saw the twitch her brows made at your statement. 
“The Red Room doesn’t exist anymore. Dreykov is dead,” she states factually. Her tone was so confident, so sure, you almost believed her. But she was wrong. He may have gone into hiding, never showing his face, but his whispers still rang inside the halls of the Red Room, his fingers choking the life out of every Widow still stuck there. His presence was a stain that would never leave.
You can’t suppress the bitter laugh that escapes you, “Is that what S.H.I.E.L.D. told you?”
The numbing feeling that had spread throughout your body was beginning to wear off. There’s a small twitch in your leg, one that Natasha notices and she knows she is running out of time. 
“I was there, we rigged bombs up a five-story building,” Natasha recounts, her eyes taking a similar hard edge from earlier. 
“The Red Room still exists, Natasha,” you talk low and slowly, your tone was no longer defensive or angry. She needs to know she is wrong. “Dreykov isn’t dead.”
“It’s impossible, I killed him,” she restated adamantly. Her mask was slowly cracking, but you do not feel victorious about it. 
“He’s alive, Romanoff. I’m not fucking with you,” your tone was exasperated, “Why would I lie?”
“Why are you here?”
“Chert poberi,” the curse slips past your lips, your annoyance at the redhead radiating off of you, “I took a job, I’m a mercenary now, that’s all you need to know.” You finally push yourself off the ground, your legs stumbling slightly as the pins and needles continue to prickle under your skin. She allows you to stand, backing away from you with her gun still trained on your head. 
“Listen, I don’t care if you believe me or not. Dreykov is not dead, and the Red Room is still alive and well. You don’t need me to tell you what happens in there,” you shook your head gently as the familiar, bitter taste of your words coat your tongue. 
You made no effort to move away from her yet, despite desperately wanting to leave. Her gun was still trained on you, and you were beginning to doubt whether or not she would actually shoot you. A single wrong move could mean the difference between life and death, or worse, getting turned in. 
But she was no longer focused on you. Her mask had slipped off, and for the first time since you were children, you could read every emotion in her eyes. There was conflict there, torn between the lie she had convinced herself of and the reality of your words. There was wariness in her gaze, but there was something else too, something bigger.
It was guilt. 
She believes you.
You begin to move away from the wall she had you pinned against, your bike about ten feet away from you. It’s clear she has no intentions of stopping you, instead lowering her gun slowly, her eyes never leaving yours.
She… she was letting you go.
The gaze you send her is cautious and untrusting, but you continue to move away from her, nonetheless. She eventually breaks the eye contact you had maintained, her eyes dropping down to the ground, her breaths slow, heavy and unsteady. There is enough space between the both of you for you to run. You caution one last look at her, but she has not moved a muscle. 
“See you around, Romanoff,” Your tone is not victorious nor teasing, it’s dejected and almost sad.
With that, you run towards your bike, scooping your keys from the ground swiftly before driving away, leaving Natasha behind with her thoughts.
Part 2 ->
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m00nkissedlover · 1 month ago
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this IS now a proper fic: link
personal headcannon i have where regulus absolutely HATES winter because of the cold. if there is even a slight chill outside, my boy is not setting foot outside. not even into the courtyard.
but you on the other hand, absolutely love the cold. it's basically an excuse for you to splurge on warm fluffy sweaters, hot chocolate mix, and various teas. the hot chocolate and tea, he's fine with, but regulus just cannot understand how you enjoy playing in the snow.
one day when it's snowing, you and all the others (marauders, slytherin skittles, etc.) are outside having a snowball fight while mr. grumpy's in his animagus form (i see regulus being a cat), all curled up by the fireplace in the slytherin common room. all of a sudden, barty bursts in and grabs the poor black cat whose pretty much ready to scratch his face off.
barty barely makes it out to the courtyard before he spots you and hands regulus to you. before your boyfriend knows it, you're tossing him into a giant pile of snow. and it doesn't help when sirus shows up as padfoot, shaking out his snow covered fur all over his younger brother.
but reg can't stay mad at you as you scoop him up and tuck him into your jacket, giving him a soft kiss between his ears. after hours of snow angles, snowball fights, and snowmen building, you all head back inside. you let regulus leap out of your arms and rush into his room, and when you walk in after him, you're met with a (dramatically) shivering regulus.
once he gets into warmer clothes, you two make your way to the slytherin common room where everyone else is. regulus doesn't let you go for the rest of the night, curled up under a blanket with you and sipping hot tea as you drink your hot chocolate.
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shmorp-mcdurgen · 6 months ago
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Aftermath au: Red Letter Day
Barney gets a call that Gordon Freeman had been found after ten years of being missing in action.
Word count: 4382
Notes: Another fic for my au "Aftermath" because I think its neat. I'm not sure what else to put here, enjoy the fic
Barney was beginning to remember how much he hated Winter as he stared through the warehouse window in front of him. Despite it being the beginning of March, spring was yet to come, meaning the snow was still falling with the temperature following suit. Barney had always hated the season, and as much as he tried, he could never come up with a proper reason. Maybe it was the fact it was cold, wet, and dreary, making any trip outside miserable, or perhaps it was the fact he was mainly cooped up inside all day, leaving him to get cabin fever. Or maybe it was a mixture of those two at the same time, along with the loneliness that came from them. No matter the reason, Barney kept quiet about it, realizing he had no ability to change the weather. All he could do was drink his hot coffee and put on a few more layers than usual. 
Barney took a sip from his mug as he looked away from the window, instead focusing his attention back into the room he was in. It was a storage room, full of random junk and scientific doodads Barney had no knowledge of. Boxes and crates were stacked up in piles taller than he was, stacked in such a way that it made Barney nervous even being near them in the case of them toppling over. Due to the lack of a radiator in that room, it was even chillier than the rest of the refurbished warehouse, making Barney glad he was wearing the warmest sweatpants he could find in his closet, along with a worn out grey hoodie, with the logo on the front being so faded that it was hard to make out as Black Mesa’s logo.
As he looked around, he was startled by the sound of a box slamming against the concrete floor, along with a short exclamation. “Oh, blast it!” “You alright, Doc?” Barney asked the other man in the room, watching as he bent over to pick up the fallen crate.
“I’m fine, just…hoping whatever was in here isn’t fragile…” 
Dr. Isaac Kleiner, or “Doc” as Barney referred to him as, was wearing a white lab coat over a robin-egg-blue dress-shirt and black tie, trading warmth for safety at his place of work. His glasses were slipping off his face as he moved boxes and rummaged through everything in the storage room, making it even more of a mess than it was before. 
“Where on earth could she have gone?” Kleiner asked, not necessarily expecting an answer. “There aren’t any vents she could have crawled in, are there?”
“I hope not,” Barney stated. “Last thing I want is that thing to fall on someone.” As Kleiner looked under a table, Barney spoke up again. “You think it ran off or something?”
“Oh no, I don’t believe so,” Kleiner stood up straight, “I’m sure she wouldn’t. After all, she needs to get fed eventually, so I imagine she’ll come out for that.” “If the thing didn’t eat someone's cat or something.”
“Hush!” Kleiner held a finger up to his mouth, causing both he and Barney to become silent as he listened closely. Barney attempted to hear what Kleiner was listening for, but to no avail, hearing nothing but silence. “Fie! I could’ve sworn I heard her moving around…”
Barney let out an exhausted sigh, “Doc, please, there’s plenty of those pests out there–”
“But there’s only ONE Lamar!”
“...Right.”
“Now, are you going to help me look?” Kleiner adjusted his crooked glasses, “Or are you going to simply stand there, doing nothing?”
“Uh…” Barney glanced away, thinking for a moment. “...No thanks.”
“Oh, you act like she’s some kind of wild animal.”
“It kinda is.”
“She’s been de-beaked and trained, and you know this!” Kleiner stated as he walked towards a filing cabinet near the corner of the room.
“‘Trained;’ I don’t think that thing is really…trained. My dog is trained, and I know you can train cats, but I don’t think you can train a literal parasite–”
“Oh! I think I’ve got something!” Kleiner said excitedly, “Help me move this cabinet, would you please?”
Barney reluctantly approached the metal cabinet as Kleiner positioned himself to the side of it, ready to move it as soon as Barney was. As soon as Barney placed his free hand against the side of it, he pushed, with Kleiner on the other side pulling it towards him.
Barney let out a loud yelp when something leaped at him from behind the cabinet, causing him to fall on his back and drop his mug on the floor. It was Lamar, the “Pet” headcrab that Kleiner had lost, and it was even uglier up close. As it laid on Barney’s chest, its six small, beady eyes stared back at him as he remained absolutely still, afraid of it trying to attack him. Its teeth on its stomach prodded at his stomach, along with its chipped, large front claws, which had colorful duct-tape covering the tips of them to prevent them from being too sharp. After a few moments of tense silence, Kleiner came to the rescue, picking up Lamar from where it rested on Barney’s torso, allowing him to take a breath.
“LAMAR!” Kleiner exclaimed, looking at his pet with relief in his eyes, “Oh, delightful! I’m so happy to see you weren’t left out in the cold somewhere…”
“Mm-hm…” Barney lifted himself off the ground, looking at his feet to see his knocked over coffee cup, with its contents spilled over. “Ugh…” 
Barney picked up his cup from the floor as Kleiner let Lamar go, watching as it waddled across the floor before jumping up onto one of the tables. Barney stared at it with contempt, the opposite reaction to Lamar’s rediscovery compared to Kleiner’s joy. 
“Do you even have a license for that thing?” Barney questioned as Lamar sat down on top of some loose documents. “If you don’t and animal control finds it, they’ll kill it–”
“I’m…in the process of getting one,” Kleiner stated, voice stumbling slightly. “And I hope no one finds her, cause if they do…I’m afraid of what you said coming true. I’m sure it will be fine regardless, at least she knows to stay inside.”
“...Sure.”
“Is everyone safe?”
Barney and Kleiner turned towards the doorway that led to the rest of the warehouse, seeing a lone, albino Vortigaunt staring back at them with her four maroon eyes. She was wearing a similar lab coat to Kleiner’s, with a borrowed pair of black dress pants, along with a fitted light brown sweater, with a hole in the middle of her chest for her third pseudo arm. She stared at Kleiner and Barney for a little while before Barney answered her question. 
“Yeah, we’re fine…” Barney sighed, glancing towards Lamar, “We just found Kleiner’s…pet.”
“Everything’s under control, Violet, you can get back to work!” Kleiner added.
“I see.” Violet’s gravelly voice seemed quieter than usual, making Barney’s brows furrow a bit.
“You alright?” He asked.
Violet seemed puzzled. “Hm?”
“Are you doing alright? I have noticed you’ve been a bit…closed off for the past few hours.” Kleiner inquired.
“We have been…distracted…” Violet responded. “I imagine it will be cleared up soon.”
“We?” Barney asked.
Violet didn’t answer. “I must get back to helping the others…the teleporter is nearly ready for its first test...”
“Oh! Wonderful. I’ll be there in a little bit.” Kleiner stated as Violet left the room. Barney remained puzzled, looking back at Kleiner with a feeling of unease in his chest.
“She said ‘we’.” Barney stated.
“I’m aware,” Kleiner responded. “You see, the Vortigaunts are able to tap into something they refer to as the ‘Vortessence’, and are thus all conne–”
“I know, Doc, I just…” Barney paused for a second. “If she’s talking about all the Vortigaunts, then wouldn’t that be a bit worrying?”
“...Maybe, but I'm not sure.” Kleiner stated. “Though, one of the members of the survey team we sent earlier today was a Vortigaunt, and that team hasn’t returned yet so…maybe there is a connection there.”
“Maybe.”
“Either way, I believe i’ll go and speak with her, just to make sure everything’s alri–”
Barney’s phone ringing from his pocket interrupted their thoughts, and when Barney pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open, he saw the number was from one of his coworkers at the hospital. “Sorry, I gotta take this.”
“You’re fine, you go ahead and I’ll go check in with the others.”
Barney nodded, watching Kleiner leave the room before he answered the call and put his phone up to his ear.
“Hello?”
Barney listened closely to the person on the other end of the phone, barely processing what they were saying. 
“What’s going on? 
Not going to believe what? 
So what, why are you telling me this?”
Barney listened closely, all before he felt his heart skip a beat. The sinking feeling in his chest was enough to render him silent, all before he let out a meek “I’ll call you later.”
Barney rushed out of the room, running past Kleiner in the process, nearly pushing him over as he approached the exit. “Barney? What’s going on, are you alright–” “They found him.” Barney’s voice shook as he spoke, with him barely being able to make out the words from how tight his throat was.
“Found who?”
Barney was already out of the building by the time Kleiner asked the question, leaving it unanswered.
Barney saw his own breath clouding in front of his face as he sprinted across the parking lot of the warehouse, nearly slipping on ice multiple times but not giving any time to care. When he reached his car, he swung the door open and crawled inside, starting the engine and speeding off without a single word. His thoughts ran through his head faster than his car was capable of going, slurring together without a single cohesive thought coming through. He didn’t care if he was a few miles above the speed limit; he needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible. He needed to see if what his coworker said was right.
If it was truly Gordon Freeman that was brought into the ER, he needed to be there.
When Barney made it to the hospital lot, he rushed through the front doors, looking around before approaching the front desk, out of breath from both the physical and mental strain that was put on him. Through harsh breaths, he asked, “Is Gordon Freeman here?”, with pleading eyes focused on the woman behind the desk.
“Oh, hello Mr. Calhoun, I can look through the system for a ‘Gordon Freeman’, if you’ll sit tight for a moment.” She looked towards the computer in front of her, typing in something and looking through files as Barney waited, his impatience building up inside of him.
“Fuck this.” He pushed himself away from the desk, storming down one of the hallways despite the woman at the front desk telling him he wasn’t allowed to as he was off duty. Barney rushed past hospital workers, asking them if they knew where Gordon was, only to be met with worried and frightened looks along with no answers. Barney’s frustration only grew as he ran through the hospital halls, with the familiar building beginning to feel like a maze meant to confuse him. As he ran further into the hospital wing, he slammed against one of the doctors in the hall, causing him to topple to the ground as Barney tripped over his own feet.
“Sorry, I just have to–”
“Barney? What the hell are you doing back here?” The man questioned as Barney sped past him.
“I’m looking for Gordon Freeman,” Barney answered, turning around. “Have you seen him?”
“He’s in the ER right now,” The man snapped back as he slowly stood up. “You can’t see him until he’s out of surgery.”
“Surgery? Is he safe? Is he alright?” Barney questioned, walking closer to the doctor. 
“Yes, he’ll be fine, just…” The doctor let out a tired sigh. “Get out of here, you’re off duty and risking your job with a stunt like this.”
“I need to see Gordon, alright?” Barney explained. “He’s been gone for a fucking DECADE, and he’s been found again, I can’t just leave him–”
“Calhoun.” The man raised his voice as he glared at Barney with a look of both contempt and pity. “...Listen, just wait until he’s out and I’ll see what I can do, do you understand?”
Barney remained silent for a moment, letting out a sharp breath before nodding. “Alright,” He stated, defeated. “But he better be getting the best treatment in there.”
“I’m sure they’re doing all they can, they understand his reputation–”
“I don’t care about his reputation, if i’m right, that’s my goddamn friend in there.” Barney spat. “...Let me know when he’s out. I need to at least…make sure it’s…the right guy.”
“I’m sure someone will let you know.” The doctor stated. “...Now please go back to the waiting room before I call security.”
Barney did as he was told, reluctantly walking across the hospital premises and back into the waiting room, where he will stay for another few hours. He paced around the room, bounced his foot up and down, fidgeted with his hands; anything to try and pass the time as the minutes passed by agonizingly slow. After he had already been there for what felt like days within the timespan of a few hours, he saw a nurse walk towards him. “Mr. Calhoun?”
Barney’s head lifted up, looking towards the nurse before following her down a hallway. After a couple-minutes walk, they stopped in front of a door leading to a recovery room. “He’s in there,” The nurse stated. “He’s currently sleeping, so I ask you to be quiet and not attempt to wake him up.”
“...Yeah.” Barney hesitated before walking through the door, stepping into the room, seeing a curtain blocking his view of the bed. He paused, standing in place for a moment as he wondered if the face he was about to see was truly Gordon, or simply someone mistaken as him. He wondered if he wanted the answer, or if he’d rather live in ignorance, avoiding the crippling disappointment if it wasn’t the man he thought it was, but as he walked past the curtain, every worry in his mind ceased and his thoughts became silent as he looked at the man on the bed.
Sure, his body was covered with blood-soaked bandages, his right leg was in a cast, he had medical equipment around him, and he was missing his glasses, but his face was painfully recognizable. Barney choked back a sob, covering his mouth when he saw Gordon’s face again.
“Are you alright?” The nurse behind him asked, noticing Barney’s teary-eyed look.
“I’m fine.” Barney whispered before letting out a short chuckle and a forced smile. “It’s just…he didn’t change a damn bit.”
Barney hadn’t even noticed it had been an hour since he entered the room, being surprised when he glanced at the clock and saw it was nearing 10 PM. He sat on a chair beside Gordon’s bed, having moved it from the corner of the room to right beside it. His leg bounced up and down as he looked at Gordon, all before lowering his head and letting out a deep sigh. He wished to speak to him but he was out of words he could possibly say at that very moment, not to mention the wish to stay quiet so Gordon could recover without being woken up. He wanted to tell Gordon everything that had happened in his absence; how Kleiner started up another lab to continue Black Mesa’s studies, how Eli also set up one on the other side of the city, and how Barney had finished college and was able to become a nurse. Gordon missed so much, and even though Barney wished to dump every piece of information onto him, he realized that even the realization that it had been ten years would be overwhelming enough. Thus, Barney figured to start simple, and just talk, like friends, for the first time since the Black Mesa incident.
As Barney leaned back into his seat he felt the back of his head hit something that wasn’t there before, feeling bitter cold yet organic at the same time, like a corpse’s fingers curling around the top of the backrest. He swung around, half expecting someone to be there, yet he saw nothing of the sort, seeing only the beige wall behind him. Barney let out his breath, looking back at Gordon before realizing he should head back; his stress and emotional state must have made him paranoid, not to mention the feeling of his hair standing on end. He stood up, walking towards the door out of the room before taking one last look back at Gordon before he finally left.
Later that night, Barney paced around his living room, being watched by his pet rottweiler as he talked on the phone. “The Survey team were the ones that found him?” he asked.
“That’s what they said,” Kleiner stated from the other side of the line. “The Vortigaunt was apparently the one that found him, specifically.”
“I see.”
“Quite Miraculous,” Kleiner continued, “The fact that Gordon had survived there for ten years before being found.”
“Yeah…” Barney unsurely stated under his breath.
“Nevermind that, what are you planning now?” Kleiner asked. “Should we have some kind of party? A celebration should be in order for him being back, I’d say–”
“I think he needs rest, he’s…been through a lot.” Barney stated. “I’ve thought of him staying over at my place until he can find a place of his own or until he recovers, but we’ll see how he’s feeling.”
“Are you sure? I’m sure we can find a spare room in the lab for him.”
“I dunno if he’d wanna live in a loud lab with a headcrab, doc.”
“...I suppose you have a fair point.”
“It was just so…strange.” Barney stated. “They say it was a ten year coma, but I don’t buy it. I don’t buy it at all.” “What makes you believe that?” 
“The fact he was bleeding. The fact he had fresh wounds from Black Mesa,” Barney elaborated, brows furrowed and his free arm crossing over his chest. “Not to mention the fact he was found with that…suit on.” “What kind of suit?” Kleiner questioned. “Oh, do you mean the Hazardous Environment Suit?”
“Yeah. Why would he be wearing it ten years after the incident was already over?”
“Who knows,” Kleiner sighed, “I’m sure I can talk with Eli to see if he has any ideas on–” Kleiner was interrupted by a loud crash and squeaking coming from behind him, audible through Barney’s phone. “Goodness gracious, LAMAR, NO–”
“You alright Doc?” 
“I’ll have to speak with you later, Lamar got in the vents again–Lamar get DOWN from there, that’s not safe!” After that, the call ended, and Barney was left to himself once again. Barney sighed, putting his phone back in his pocket before he heard a deep ruff coming from his dog, who was laying next to the couch in the living room, with its white patches of fur on its snout showing its age.
“You hear that, Gordon?” Barney said. “You might get a new roommate…a…different Gordon.”
The dog yawned and rested his head on his paws as Barney walked towards the living room couch, sitting on it and resting his feet on the coffee table in front of it. He leaned over the armrest, scratching the top of the dog’s head. “Guess I’ll have to explain to him why you’re also named Gordon, huh bud?”
Gordon didn’t respond, instead just letting out a soft ruff again. Barney leaned back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling before folding his hands on top of his stomach. He wasn’t looking forward to explaining why his pet was named after his friend, he realized. After all, it’s not very easy to tell someone you thought they were dead for years.
As soon as Barney received the call that Gordon was awake the following evening, Barney rushed back to the hospital to visit him once again. As he drove across the city, worries he didn’t think about before began to creep up inside his brain. Even though he didn’t necessarily believe the coma theory the doctors had, nor did he believe even they believed it fully, he thought of the possibility of it being true, and if Gordon would even remember who Barney was after a full decade of sleep. It would be a surprise if Gordon remembered anything after that amount of time, but Barney pushed down his pessimism, trying to be optimistic just this once.
After making his way down the hospital hallway once again, he found himself back in front of the door to Gordon’s room, with a nervous feeling deep in his gut as he prepared to walk inside. He took in a breath and stepped inside, looking towards the bed in which Gordon was laying on, only to have his gaze met by two bright green eyes, ones Barney hadn't seen since ten years prior. Barney froze in place, staring back at Gordon, who appeared to be surprised to see him. As Barney sat down in the chair beside the bed, he swallowed hard, wondering what he could possibly say now that Gordon was awake. As he thought to himself, a question left his mouth that he wasn’t initially planning on asking:
“Where were you?”
The question lingered in the air like a foul odor, with Gordon’s brows furrowing lip quivering slightly, all while he curled his hands into fists. He turned away from Barney, looking down at his feet, thinking of something to say, though his hands didn’t once lift up to sign a single word.
“You…disappear for 10 years without warning,” Barney continued. “Leaving everyone to believe you were dead.”
Gordon didn’t make eye contact with Barney as he spoke.
“I thought you were dead and buried somewhere, Gordon,” Barney choked. “But…You’re here in front of me now.”
Gordon glanced at Barney before he felt arms being wrapped around his shoulders, tight, but not too tight to make it hurt.
“I fucking missed you, Gordon.” Barney said as he hugged Gordon, feeling the gesture being returned to him. Gordon’s hands shook, feeling weak and cold, yet he didn’t want to let go of the single shred of kindness he had felt since what felt like eternity. After a few moments Barney let go, sitting back down with red, tear-filled eyes. 
“...You…missed a lot.” Barney stated; Gordon nodded knowingly in response. “I’d tell ya’ everything, but…I don’t even know how to start.”
“Are they safe?” Gordon’s hands were shaking, but Barney could make out the message regardless.
“Who, like…Kleiner? Eli?”
Gordon nodded slightly, lips pursed in anticipation. 
“They’re alright,” Barney assured, allowing Gordon to let out a breath. “In fact…they’re excited to see you again. Kleiner especially, he’s hoping to get you back into his lab…don’t know if you want to do that, but the offer’s there.”
Gordon appeared to have had a weight lifted off his shoulders at the news, but the cold yet somber gaze didn’t leave his eyes. Barney planned to tell Gordon that they were among the few survivors of the Black Mesa incident, but he bit his tongue for the time being.
“...Never thought you’d be in the history books, did ya?” Barney let out a lighthearted chuckle in an attempt to lighten the mood. “You’re a hero in everyone’s eyes, now.”
Gordon shook his head, looking down and away from Barney’s gaze as he clasped his hands together on his lap. Barney stared at him with a look of confusion and worry, all before forcefully clearing his throat. 
“I’m just…happy to see you alive, Gordon.” Barney stated. “After…a few years I began to…to lose hope.” Barney paused for a second, realizing Gordon was still not meeting his gaze. “...Should’ve known you were a tougher son of a bitch than that, I guess.”
Gordon scoffed slightly before shaking his head again, still staring at his feet. Silence fell as Barney attempted to think of something else to say to ease the tense atmosphere, though his thoughts were blank and void of any ideas. Barney looked towards Gordon yet again, seeing he was raising his hands up to sign something:
“Missed you too.”
Barney smiled slightly, despite feeling as if he wanted to cry right then and there. He never anticipated he’d be this emotional in his life, yet here he was; about to cry for the second time that day. Seeing his legally dead friend after ten years of being missing in action was enough to warrant it, he supposed.
“I’m sure the others will be happy to show you everything they’ve been working on,” Barney said, with Gordon finally looking back up at him, before looking directly behind him, “They’ve been working on a new telepor–”
Gordon flinched, staring at something behind Barney before attempting to crawl backwards, nearly ripping off his IV in the process. Barney looked behind him, seeing nothing but the wall before he heard a loud thud coming from the bed. He turned, seeing Gordon had fallen off of the bed and onto the cold linoleum floor. “Gordon!” Barney quickly ran to his aid, holding out an arm for Gordon to grab, lifting him off of the floor. When weight was put onto his right leg, Gordon grimaced, using Barney as leverage as he was put back onto the bed. “Jeez Gordon, what got you freaked out so ba–”
Barney was silenced when Gordon hugged him without warning. Barney could hear him quietly sobbing into his shoulder, and as he returned the hug, he wondered if he had ever seen Gordon so touchy before; It was as if he hadn’t had human contact in days. This time however, Barney wasn’t quick to let go. The last thing he wanted to do was leave his best friend behind again.
Not this time.
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