#pulse rampage

[dopemarksevenpen]

DALE.

[ervotica]

𝐰𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞. [𝐟.𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫]

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you think finnick’s in danger, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to protect him. or, that time the mutts impersonated your fiancé and you lost your shit.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: canon level violence, finnick is cute, reader is traumatised and also crying. overall not my best writing but it’s something.

𝐧𝐨��𝐞: apologies for my absence guys, life has been kicking me in the ass of late. here’s an apology fic, i know it sucks i am very rusty in the writing department. love ya🫶

Finnick has been gone for ten minutes when the birds start circling; he’s disappeared into the trees, aimlessly digging when the sounds of flapping wings and voices hit the group’s poised ears.

You’re stumbling into the undergrowth at the first threat of danger, the breath quick to steal from your lungs as his voice rings in your ears.

“Y/N? Where are you? Help me!” Finnick’s voice calls, low and pained and drawn out terribly. Every sensible explanation dies, shrivels up and blackens in your head and you’re running towards the sound, swatting leaves and fallen branches out of the way.

“Finnick!” you shriek. “Finnick!”

Your heartbeat thumps in your own head, blood rushing and pounding when you trip and stumble your way further into the trees.

Peeta and Johanna are behind you, their grappling hands doing little to stop you on your rampage.

“They’re jabberjays, it’s not real!” Peeta tries to coax you down but it’s no use, you’re in a blind panic.

“Finn!” you scream for him again. “Finnick!”

Every awful scenario floods your head at once, of Snow and the Capitol and the torture they could inflict on him. It’s the only way to hurt you, hurting him, and Snow knows that.

Your cheeks are hot and damp with tears as you spin, frantic and wide eyed and desperate to catch a glimpse of Finnick; Johanna seizes you from behind, pushing you down to the ground and holding you there. When you thrash and lift your head, her hand clasps the back of your neck and forces your nose into the damp floor.

“It’s not real!” she growls.

He’s still screaming. Screaming for you. It hurts your ears and grabs your chest with white-hot panic, pure and unrelenting.

By the time the hour’s up, you’re limp, breath ragged and laboured. Johanna manhandles you up until you feel the bark of a tree digging into your back; you hiss and push her away indignantly. You have this far away look in your eyes, glazed and unfocused, only snapping to attention when a pair of footsteps bowl through the trees and crouch next to you.

“Finn,” you whisper, trembling as he wraps thick wired arms around you and pulls you flush to him. His pulse is fast and hard like a drum pressed to your cheek, his chest heaving as you climb him.

“It wasn’t real. I’m fine, we’re fine.”

You gasp and wheeze and clutch at him like he might slip away, a fist in his sandy hair, your shoulder wedged under his armpit. His grip is like iron around your waist and his breath is warm and comforting on the juncture of your shoulder.

“You’re okay,” you mumble, repeating over and over as though you’re trying to convince yourself.

“I’m okay. Look at me,” he demands. His hands are warm. “It wasn’t real.”

“Not real.” You rake fingernails across the nape of his neck, squeezing to keep him close. Your breath is ragged. “We’re fine.”

“There’s my girl.”

[revelboo]

may you PLEASE write more starscream x reader heheheheh.... ive been eating them up ever since i came across ur blog

I’m glad you like them! That last anon question made me think of something I’m going to have to deal with eventually, though. I mostly write paranormal romance and my intention was to use Tumblr like my note board in my office- that’s what these snippets are- scenes I want to get down so I remember them and can expand them into a coherent story later- I have an AO3 ready for when I start doing that, but because of what the story arc will eventually lead to, it’ll be 18+ I’ve been avoiding writing anything… er, let’s say “spicy” here since I really don’t know the demographic on Tumblr and I’m not interested in corrupting/ mentally scarring preteens or kids. Though, to be fair, I imagine putting a warning up over there is exactly as effective as adding one here.

Everything is Alright Pt 27

Starscream x Reader- trust

• How can you ease him with such a small thing? Just a touch, given freely. Because you might care. He needs to believe that, needs this to be real, not all just an act to save yourself and stay in his good graces. Needs someone who needs him. The truth, though? He doesn’t know and that doubt lingers in the back of his processor as he lays flat on his back, a servo tracing along your back as you sprawl on him alongside his canopy. He can feel every little shift of your small frame against his, your breathing and the beat of your heart. Those sensations now familiar as the pulse of his own spark.

• He’s calmer now, but quiet and that doesn’t sit well with you. It genuinely hurt him that you’d assumed the worst. And even if he hadn’t hurt anyone, you’re sure he still destroyed someone’s home. It’s a reminder that he doesn’t actually care about humans. For whatever reason, you’re the exception. The one left holding his leash while knowing you can’t actually hope to rein in his behavior. Can’t hope to control him. That servo traces the curve of your shoulder. Down the line of your spine. Every stroke seeming to calm that awful anger more. When he vents, the warm air washes over you, stirring your hair. And if you have his leash, he has yours. How can you ever try to really escape when you know he’ll go on a rampage? You’re not even sure that you want to anymore and when did that happen? With that realization comes the one that whispers that you can’t keep writing it off as Stockholm’s. You do care for him as stupid as it probably is.

• Rumbling softly when your head lifts, the slide of his servo pauses because you’re staring at him and he isn’t sure what to make of that look on your face. “What?” He growls, immediately wary. His wings try to shift even though his position restricts them when you carefully stand, a hand on his canopy for balance as you walk closer to his head and sit on his plating where his chassis and neck meet. Still staring at him and he has to tuck his chin to see you.

• That confusion edged with annoyance is almost cute as he frowns at you. Trying to figure out what you’re doing, just like you are. There’s so much you want to say. To ask in that moment, as fragile, new thoughts flutter through you. And it passes, because you can’t risk ruining what you have. It matters to you more than it should. So you just lay a palm on his face, lean down and press a soft kiss to his warm, metal chin. “Thank you for taking care of me,” you whisper instead of those dangerous, soft things you can’t let loose.

• Watching you retreat back to your original spot on his chassis and then lay down on your side with your back to his canopy, he doesn’t move. Not until your breathing eventually evens out and he’s sure you’re not awake. Then slowly so he doesn’t disturb you, he touches his chin, warmth spreading through him at that little display of affection for him. Venting, he lets his head fall back to stare at the ceiling as something stirs in his spark, kindling in the quiet and he lays a hand over your little frame to keep you safe.

Previous Next

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

I know your requests are closed so feel free to ignore this but if I don’t type it somewhere I WILL forget it lol. I’ve been re-binge reading your works and just thought of this…

Civilian reader kills someone out of self defense for the first time. And it’s the whole staring at her bloody shaking hands panic attack what have I done fiasco. And her boyfriend or husband helping her through it and dealing with it all (I can see it with Ghost or Price idk)

But yeah feel free to ignore, I know your requests are closed rn

Love your work! You are so talented!

This has been in my inbox for so long, lmao. Sorry for not answering right away - take a few paragraphs w. soft, worried, Simon in compensation.

Warnings for gore, death, blood, panic attack, etc. F!Reader.

Your body shakes violently, blood dripping down like crimson tears from your hands. The overwhelming sense of dread sits with bullet fragment aggression in the delicate make-up of your psyche.

You weren't meant for this.

Not the blood or the terror. Certainly not the body laying out in the hallway.

"Oh, fuck," you gasp out, shuddering as your throat swells in on itself. Your form had slipped down the wall just across from the door not minutes prior, legs weak and heart pounding like a war call. Now all you can do is stare into the vacant eyes of some random burglar—at the knife you'd stuck in his chest when he'd backed you into Simon's office.

It was a miracle that you remembered where your husband's combat blade had been, seen on some off chance when you'd been cleaning. He tries to keep this all separate, you know.

The blood just keeps slipping out of the corpse. It's a pool now, and you don't know how long you'd been huddled like this until the sounds of rampaging feet and hurried yells of your name bounce off your eardrums.

All you can see is the uncleanable amount of red.

Simon had only gone out to the corner store half an hour ago, getting a quick supper so you both could sit in each other's company. You'd been hesitant to watch him leave so soon after getting home, but he'd sworn he'd only be a few minutes.

None of you had thought too much about the local break-ins. After all, Simon was...well, Simon. And he was home.

S-Simon was home.

There's a loud, barked, curse when the body is discovered, stomping feet that make the entire house shake like it was the epicenter of an earthquake. Your husband's form slashes the front of your vision as he kneels in the blood on the floor. Frantic brown eyes behind his balaclava snap from place to place; taking in the familiar handle and blade in nanoseconds. In his left hand he clutches a pistol, white-knuckled.

But you can't even say anything, because you're as still as stone—breathing in concrete as the gravel shreds your vocal cords and trachea. Reality slips in quick streaks of color as Simon's face flashes into the open doorway.

He sees your wide eyes with a mirroring of his own, bone-deep fear striking in his head with a heated pulse.

"Love!" Simon's rushing to you. Your body can't help but startle back, spine shoving into the wall; fingers still saturated and stained.

Inside your chest, your lungs jerk in a strained whimper.

Your husband freezes, one foot ahead with his widened legs as he fights his mind to rush to you and take you into his arms. Simon puts the gun away with little thought to look for more assailants—all that matters is you.

And you looked terrified.

"Hey," hands reach up to this balaclava, slipping the fabric off as he kneels down slowly to one leg. He tosses it to the floor and you try to focus on the strength of his jaw; those scars and pale hairs as your eyes well with tears. A delicate sob builds. "Hey, now. It's just me, alright?"

Simon speaks softly, hands splayed out and a few feet from you. He wishes to hold you tightly but refrains even as his chest tightens at not being able to calm you. The man can't stand that look on your face.

Your fingers curl into shivering fists, "Simon," you cry, finally able to get a solid word out even if it sounds slurred and ragged.

It's all the permission your husband needs.

Simon jerks forward and takes you up into his large arms; the wide encompassing of his palm on the back of your head and the other circling your waist. He angles you away from the body as he glares into it with hatred and vile curses, hissing venom.

When he found the door busted off its hinges, he'd never felt so panicked. Even now as you release a small wail into his neck Simon's heart races, breath coming in short puffs.

"You're alright, Sweetheart. You're alright. I'm right 'ere." You sag into him, grabbing at his leather jacket with nails digging into the brown material. Simon nuzzles his nose into your scalp, muscles tense, "Breathe, it's over."

All you can focus on is Simon's scent, his words. They're the only thing keeping you from oblivion. Eventually, as your husband rocks you back and forth, you can gasp enough air down to push away the black at the sides of your vision.

"That's right," he whispers, gritting his teeth. "Good girl, keep focusin' on me, yeah? You're doin' perfect." Simon doesn't care about the blood or the screams of sirens in the distance.

For the first time in his life, he doesn't care if someone else happens to see his face.

Your husband pulls his head back and shifts his hold to your cheeks, angling your runny and chilled face upwards. He grits his teeth and his eyes bleed with concern; fear.

"...He do anything?" You can only make out half the words as the sounds all huddle together in a ringing tone, but you shake your head in small flinches. Lips find your forehead—heated and firm. Muttered words. "Did so good, Love, I'm so proud of you. S'not your fuckin' fault, you hear?"

Sniffling, you only whimper once more before lips kiss away your tears; thumbs coming up after to swipe at the remnants. Curling over you, this beast—defined so often as ruthless and deadly—shields you from the image of the man you'd killed in self-defense like a demon of smoke and ash. Holding you as if he can make everything else disappear.

After all, you weren't meant for this. You were meant for your soft skin and your loving eyes. Everything else that Simon tied himself to you for—goodness.

"Simon," you gasp again and shove your face into his chest. For the life of you, you can't say anything else. He knows what you mean.

"I'm here," he repeats. Caressing the back of your head, his hand tenses and softens with leaving adreanaline. "Nothin'll happen to you again. It's all gonna be alright."

You believe him.

[seattlesellie]

i need nerdy loser ellie who wears those big bulky glasses so bad it’s not even funny

yeah cos …. yeah .

i have this vision — of slightly sub!top, service top of you will, loser!ellie eating you out whilst her big nerdy glasses stay glued to the bridge of her nose (until they aren’t)

her face is hot and flushed and heated, long, thick eyelashes fluttering up and down like extra-slow butterfly wings as her talented pink muscle flicks your swollen clit up and down. she takes her time with it, and she really is talented, but more than talented she really is oblivious to the way she’s making you feel, eyebrows scrunched in worry and in question — you can almost hear her shaky voice ask if she’s doing a good job.

which is why when you send your head back and it bangs on the bathroom stall with a loud and resounding thud, and a guttural moan escapes from your lips, ellie moans with you. you just answered her question, she is doing a good job. the best job.

and her low moan sends shivers down your spine, hell — shivers down your clit and your pulsing empty hole.

“s- s- s’good ellie-uh!” — you wail, grinding your cunt extra hard on ellie’s inviting tongue. she shakes her head left and right, and it’s that damn praise that makes her cross her legs together and chase that sweet, alas imperfect friction her jeans provide against her covered sopping pink cunt. ellie then grunts in agreement, buries her nose beneath the hood of your puffy clit. she moves rapidly, eagerly, bobbing her head up and down to earn herself another whine from your lips that might make her wet herself on the spot.

and to think her friends mocked and teased her for having a pathetic crush on the hot girl from class. mocked her for doodling your face in her journal, mocked her for staring at you too hard when you entered the class late with an iced coffee cup in your hand, and now — who’s fuckin’ pussy is she eating in a humid college bathroom stall?

she nearly reaches down her pants and searches her pockets in order to find her cracked phone and send them a pic. she doesn’t, however, because you just moaned out her name so beautifully her hands changed direction and crawled down to cup her cunt. she’s harsh, she grunts and huffs, eyes rolling back inside her skull when she realizes she can feel her slick through the thick fabric of her washed denim jeans.

her eyeballs nearly touch the clear lenses of her glasses but she doesn’t mind. not when your skirt is bunched up on your thighs and your fingers spread your pussy lips open like that.

and it really is all for her, so bravery washes upon ellie, and she slides an eager finger up your hole. it nearly burns, she pumps it slowly, you clench on her nevertheless and she smiles against your cunt. you can feel her harsh breaths, her sniffles, you don’t know if she’s like this because being on her knees is hard or because she’s trying to burn your intoxicating scent up her nostrils.

then she clarifies,

“wanna eat you o-out f-forever”

you bite down on your bottom lip and suck, you want to tell her that she will, but all that comes out is a pathetic hum of agreement.

she stops, blinks in awe and adjusts her glasses to sit correctly on the bridge of her nose. you shriek because she’s edging you and you’re not sure she even knows it. “n-never seen a pussy so, pretty, i’ve never—“ she stammers, “uh” and “um” ‘s as if she’s going on a rampage about a constellation of some sort.

it really takes all that is in you to not shove her face down your cunt again. she’s lucky her voice is so raspy and that it’s truly adorable how her glasses fog up in result of her harsh breathing.

you spread your lips wider but she doesn’t get the hint. she keeps going, keeps talking, so awfully close to your clit it’s burning hot now.

“it’s so swollen, so fuckin’ wet… s’tight”

you nod and sheepishly smile, ellie giggles like a damn schoolgirl beneath you. her knees are probably chafing and her fingers are probably pruning up for spending so much time up her hole but you really don’t care. neither does she.

so you circle your clit slowly and your head lulls back, ellie humps her bare hand.

“i could fuckin’ cum j-jus’ from watchi…”

you lift your finger, placing it inside your mouth and suck. your cheeks hollow in, giving ellie an exaggerated show. you hum at your taste, then you moan when the taste of her saliva runs down your throat. you take it out of your mouth with a plop.

then you bend down, ellie gulps hard.

“ellie?”

she hums, in trance.

“d’ya know what a strap on is?”

then her glasses slip down from her nose and hit the pavement with a click.

no fucking way.

[spideesenses]

Heat → Miguel O’Hara

pairing: miguel o’hara x afab!reader

warnings: smut! MDNI! there’s no piv, just dry (wet) hmping. dom!miguel. panty fcking. light degrading. mentions of menstrual cycle.

prompt: Miguel doesn’t take his rapture serum, letting his more animalistic tendencies surface.

note: this has been my brainrot for several days now bc my bf did it to me and i😵‍💫 please practice safe & clean sex! you can mess up your pH balance especially with something like this, so please make sure you know the proper aftercare. love u

He could smell you. The scent of your wet slick between your thighs sent him in a frenzy, not to mention that you were ovulating. So this intense wave of horniness would hit you randomly. You’d been trying so hard to concentrate on the mission report that Jess was delivering, squeezing your thighs to gain some friction.

As Jess wrapped up the mission report, Miguel dismissed everyone. Everyone except for you. A wave of panic shot through you. You knew there was better choices to be made during the mission, but was it worth getting reprimanded for?

“What is this about?” you spoke softly, stepping forward. The release of your tightened thighs only released the scent of your dripping pussy even more so. As you stepped closer, the scent filled his nostrils and he had to stop his eyes from rolling back.

“You were helping Lyla reproduce my rampage serum earlier this week.” Miguel finally spoke after what seemed like an eternity. He wasn’t asking, he was stating the fact. So you were unsure what he wanted from you.

“Yeah, you had me stay back from a mission because I was feeling unwell.” you period was so crippling that day. You still wanted to make an impact so you asked Miguel for an alternative project to work on. “Is there a problem?”

The question made him chuckle dryly. You felt her pulse at the sound. That, you couldn’t help. He turned giving you what seemed like a grin. A sadistic grin.

“When you updated the inventory,” he waved his hand and a computer monitor came up. Video footage of you storing 6 vials into his cabinet pulled up. You had turned in your rolling chair to lean over as you went to fill out the fields on the computer.

Your name

The date

The serums you were making updates to

The quantity

You squinted your eyes at the footage. Oh. Seemingly enough, you had fatfingered an extra number on the file and saved it carelessly before exiting the lab.

“I was under the impression that I had another 10 vials to last me before I had to make more. I actually would have asked you to assist me in that again, but because of your mistake,” he swiped his hand again, making the video feed disappear and taking a step closer to you, making you instinctively back up. “I am all out.” he wasted no time grabbing you by the neck, forcing you to look up at him. “Do you understand what that means cariño?”

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, wincing as his grip on your throat tightened. You reached up to grab his wrist, giving it a squeeze.

He ignored your apology. “And while Lyla is scrambling to make a new batch, I have sit here and smell you.” if his teeth wasn’t dripping with venom, his voice was. This didn’t help your problem. You could feel the wetness collecting at the crotch of your suit. The way he was manhandling you? Scolding you as a means to humiliate you? He took a whiff of the air once more, blinking a few times before narrowing his eyes at you. “Is this- Are you getting aroused by this?” you didn’t have to answer, he could smell it.

Due to his lack of rampage, his senses seemed to have heightened. He was more aware, he had to be. He was like an animal released in the wild with no limits to his terrain.

He needed you just as much as you needed him. He’d take you as quickly as he could, oh but he knew it would take patience. As mean and broody as he was, he was still a gentleman, when he wanted to be. Images of you being manhandled, moaning with him touching every inch of your body. He blinked a few times realizing you were using your powers on him. You could project thoughts into ones mind.

“Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.” he nuzzled his face into your neck, peppering kisses there. Miguel teasingly dragged his fangs against the soft skin at your neck, making you whimper.

“Don’t stop,” you huffed out. Your sexual frustrations were agonizing, body heating up quickly as your dripping slick grew warmer. The sounds that were coming from you reminded Miguel of the sounds that a prey would make when it was caught. The primal instinct was to bite you, mark you as his territory.

A sweet little moan escaped passed your lips. Miguel looked down and seen your thumbs caressing your nipple through your suit. He could see the hardened mound, how painful it looked. The thought of you pleasuring yourself underneath him would have been more than okay… if he wasn’t feeling territorial.

Miguel flicked your hand away, grasping your breast in his free hand, his other still tightly around your throat. He palmed over your sensitive bud, the feeling of a more calloused hand over your boob feeling sensational. You didn’t care how needy your mewls had sounded, you were unbelievably turned on out of your mind. Whatever he was willing to give you, you would take. The moans falling passed your lips were caught with his.

You would occasionally buck your hips into his, emitting a growl as he lightly bit your bottom lip. You needed friction. Anything to relieve the growing pain. With control, you bucked your hips slowly, making sure to drag the pool of wetness onto his suit. You’d let out a breathless ‘heh’ as you felt him through his suit.

Oh and he could feel you alright. The one stroke alone had left a wet on his suit. He quickly commanded for his suit to disappear and he was suddenly bare in front of you.

He was mouthwateringly gorgeous. His chiseled chest through his suit was a masterpiece. And now that it was bare right in front of you? He looked too delicious to be consumed. His waist was slim in comparison to his chest, yet bulky and defined. His happy trail lead down to something that you would consider very happy to see you. It wasn’t just the girth that intimidated you, it was the length as well. How the hell was he going to fit that in you without breaking you or tearing you in half?

He wasted no time in tearing at the crotch of your suit.

“Hey!” you whined. You’d made your own suit. You were actually one of the only spider people without an upgraded suit. The first version of your suit was your now ruined suit.

“I’ll program you another suit princesa,” he panted, gasping as your silky red underwear came into view. Though the wet patch of your underwear presented a more maroon color. He lifted you up on his desk, pushing his keyboard and mouse off in the process. He bent down, taking a whiff of your clothed, soaked pussy.

His eyes glossed over crimson. Miguel wasn’t even sure if he had ever been this aroused before. Maybe it was because he couldn’t remember a damn day where he was out of his serum. He pressed your lips together in a hard kiss, jerking his hips forward so the leaky tip of his cock would press against your puffy clit.

“M’gonna fuck you with your panties on,” he mumbled against your lips. He guided his cock underneath your panties, collecting the wetness from your crying pussy. The tightness of your underwear was enough to keep his cock firmly pressed against your slit.

You bucked your hips eagerly, whimpering as the feeling of his cock against your pussy stimulated the most sensitive part of you. He switched hands; one resumed its position at the base of your neck, pinning you down on his desk and the other held your thigh as it was hiked over his hip.

Miguel rutted his hips, letting out a sigh of relief. Although it wasn’t the inside of your plush, wet heat, this would do. The scent of you enveloped him and he could only imagine what your velvety walls would feel like fluttering around him.

“More, please.” you begged, tears brimming your eyes as you could feel yourself wanting more than just the slow rolling of the hips.

“Oh,” Miguel pursed his lips, looking down at you. “Look at you so desperate for my cock.” he was talking down on you again, making your jaw fall slack as he slowly picked up the pace, stimulating your clitoris a little more.

The sounds that were coming from the underside of his cock rubbing against your wet slit were pornographic almost. Slosh, slosh, slosh. If he could drown in your puddles of wetness, he’d be all in you every second of everyday.

“Cock hungry and I haven’t even been inside of you,” he coo’d. He drew his hips back, the tip of his cock slipping past your folds. Miguel’s eyes locked onto yours as he gently prodded past your pussy lips.

At this point, it was like you were the animal. Bucking your hips in desperation, tears spilling from your eyes as you pleaded - as you begged him to break you. He could take you however he wanted, he could make it hurt, you just needed him.

“You’re gonna shut up and take what I give you, like the slut you are. Do you understand me?” his voice was stern enough to pull you from your cock drunk state. You nodded your head. “Use your words, princesa.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes sir,” you answered before he shoved his fingers into your mouth, to which you suckled on with joy.

“That’s my good girl,” he gave you positive reinforcement. Slowly begin to move his hips again, only this time he had his thumb placed on top of the fabric of your panties, so he could keep the placement of his cock over your clit.

His pace was unforgiving. The sound of you begging so desperately for his cock echoing. The image of you crying over not being fucked was glued to the back of his eyelids. You were so cock drunk already, it made him wonder how long you’d been thinking about him fucking you.

Images of you fucking yourself with your fingers, free hand pinching your nipple while moaning his name popped up in his head. Here you were, projecting images into his head once more. As he’s fucking you through your panties, he can feel the grip of your mouth releasing his fingers. Your mouth was ajar as he pistoned his hips against yours, your moans and his grunts filling the room.

“Fuck, Miguel,” you moaned, your hand capturing your breast. “Please, can I come?”

How obedient. Still asking him permission after he told you to take whatever it was he was giving. How much were you wrapped around his finger?

“Yeah baby, you can come. Come for me,” he leaned over, mumbling into your ear, his teeth grazing over the shell of your ear. “Come on, be a good girl for me.” hearing that made you whimper in his ear as you released the knot that was forming in your stomach.

“Fuu-“ you whined, arching your back against him. Your walls clenched around nothing, wishing you could milk him for every drop. You felt your body convulse as euphoria took over you, your cheeks flushed red as your legs shook around Miguel. He could feel your hard nipples on his bare chest. In the frenzy you were in, he had no idea how you were even coherent enough to reach down between you two. Your hand kept his cock in place while your thumb circled around his sensitive tip.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head. He imagined the softness of your hands being as soft as you were on the inside as he pounded you. His hips began to stammer as he released his load into your panties, with a guttural moan. His hips slowed and he rested his forehead against yours.

You could feel how heavy your panties were. They were slicked down from the wetness of your pussy, and now they were filled with Miguel’s cum.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,” Miguel muttered.

“Huh?” he heard Jess’ voice in confusion.

He blinked and suddenly Jess, Peter, and you surrounded him. Just as you did during the mission report. Jess and Peter were confused to say the least, but not you.

Your smug grin confirmed Miguel’s thoughts. You had been using your powers to project your sexual fantasies in his head.

“Ay coño,” he whispered under his breath. “I’m gonna fucking kill her.”

[mingtinys]

[11:45 p.m.]

pairing : song mingi x gn!reader

fluff , humor , comfort fic

warnings : thunderstorms

word count : 0.7 k

requested ? no

a/n : i am not the least bit ashamed to admit this was slightly inspired by that one ouran host club episode. it is my comfort episode. sue me.

Typically, you're one to enjoy a good Summer storm. You're rather fond of the cozy peace they bring. Especially late at night, when the heavy rain starts to sound like static and lulls you into a deep sleep. Interrupted only by soft rolls of thunder and the occasional blue flickers of lightning.

But the one tonight is far too aggressive for your taste.

The rain is deafening as it continues its onslaught against your poor window. And each startling crash of lightning precedes an even louder boom that shakes the room. Rattling picture frames that hang delicately on the walls.

You won't be sleeping tonight. That's for sure.

Anxiety wraps its nimble fingers around your heart and squeezes with each subsequent lighting strike. Digging its claws deeper and deeper until you can't take it anymore.

Your comforter is quickly tossed to the side, skin exposed to the chilly night air in your desperate escape. You tiptoe your way to the living room, searching for the giant scaredy-cat you know is likely up calming his own nerves.

And sure enough, there he is.

Cuddled up on the couch with the fuzziest blanket he owns draped over his shoulders. He's mindlessly acrolling through his phone with his headphones on at full volume. You can just barely make out the faint song playing through them.

You creep up slowly so as not to spook him, though it doesn't do much good. Mingi still flinches as soon as your shadow casts across the room with yet another flash from outside. Whipping his head around so fast you're surprised he doesn't get whiplash. But he quickly recovers, laughing at himself once he realizes it's just you.

He slips off his headphones and lets them hang from around his neck. "Storm keeping you up?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you liked storms," he frowns.

"I do, this one's just a little..."

Mingi hums. "I get it. Come, sit." He pats the open spot beside him and you sit. His arm wraps around your shoulder, enveloping you into his blanket cocoon and pulling you in until you're smooshed against his side.

"Did the storm spook you too?" You ask, resting your head on the junction of his neck.

"Pfft, no, I like being awake–"

A giant crack of lightning strikes the pavement outside a little too close for comfort and startles the both of you. Mingi even lets loose a sharp string of curses. It makes you giggle, which unwinds the knot in your stomach just enough to tease your boyfriend.

"You were saying?"

But then the power flickers as the wind picks up and you're eating your words. Tensing at the near-instant karma for teasing Mingi. The wind is the worst part, in your opinion.  You hate how it howls and bellows as it whips around the corners of your home. It echoes through your head, sending you into a spiral of anxiety. Heart racing so fast you can feel its pulse in every limb.

Until suddenly, it all stops. Muted by calming tunes blasting through the headphones placed over your ears.

You glance up at Mingi, pulling one side back. "Are you sure you don't need them?"

"No, I'll be okay. Besides, I'm your big strong boyfriend, it's my job to take care of you." Mingi puffs his chest, looking rather proud of his heroic act.

"You're such a dork."

He just smiles and shakes his head at your comment. Then taps through his playlist to find music he knows you like. "Just try to get some sleep," he says as he readjusts the headphones and presses a long kiss to your temple.

To his credit, the headphones do a wonderful job of blocking out the storm. You wouldn't even know it was still ongoing if it weren't for the way Mingi jumps up every so often. Completely defenseless against the rampage outside now that you've taken his only protection. And even though each time you look at him, he reassures you with a tight smile, you know he's dying a little on the inside with each boom of thunder.

So, eventually, you coax him to lie down and tuck his head to your chest, holding him with your arm pressed over his ear. He hums when your fingers slowly toy with his hair, the vibration of it tickling your skin. Within seconds, he's fully melted into you. The both of you slipping into a slumber with the storm now nothing but background noise.

taglist: @dontwannaexsist

[ha-rinrin]

Amusement Park Date

Summary: Just you and your girlfriends Jinx on a date full of exiting rides.

Pairing: Jinx x fem!reader

wordcount: 3.8k

Authors note: After my rampage, I'm just gonna write and enjoy the ride. I just hope you like the long fics, 'cause I already started working on some of them.

masterlist

The soft rays of morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow in your cozy dorm room. You slowly stirred awake, acutely aware of the warmth next to you. Jinx lay beside you, her breathing soft and steady, but your mind was filled with memories of the night before—the intense moments you shared, bodies intertwined, the passionate kisses and whispered promises that had left you both breathless and exhausted.

As you lay there, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of her, peaceful and content. You reached out, brushing a gentle finger against her cheek, marveling at how perfect she looked in the morning light. Jinx stirred, her eyes fluttering open to meet yours, a sleepy grin spreading across her face.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” you murmured, your heart swelling at her sleepy expression.

“Morning,” she replied, her voice a soft rasp. She turned to cuddle closer, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck, her warmth enveloping you both.

You closed your eyes, relishing the moment. It was quiet, a serene contrast to the excitement that usually surrounded Jinx. Just the two of you, lost in the comfort of each other’s presence.

But after a few blissful minutes of cuddling, you felt her shift. Suddenly, she sat up, her eyes alight with mischief and excitement. “Hey! Guess what today is!” she exclaimed, practically bouncing on the bed.

You chuckled, still half-asleep. “What’s got you so hyped up this early?”

“The amusement park!” she squealed, her enthusiasm infectious. “We’re going to ride all the scariest rides. I can’t wait!”

You groaned playfully, but inside, a rush of excitement coursed through you. “Isn’t it too early for roller coasters?”

“Never!” Jinx replied, her eyes sparkling. “Besides, we’ve got to get ready! I want to make the most of today!”

You laughed at her energy, feeling it lift your spirits. “Alright, alright. Just let me wake up first!”

She leaned down, planting a soft kiss on your lips, her expression suddenly serious. “Last night was amazing,” she whispered, a hint of vulnerability breaking through her playful demeanor.

“Yeah, it really was,” you replied, your heart racing at the memory of how close you had been.

With a mischievous grin, she jumped out of bed, her vibrant energy filling the room. “Come on! We’ve got rides to conquer!”

You watched as she danced around the room, throwing on her favorite band t-shirt and a pair of colorful shorts. It was impossible not to smile at her antics.

“Okay, I’m getting up,” you said, throwing off the covers and joining her. “But only if I get another kiss”

She stopped mid-dance, her eyes narrowing playfully. “You drive a hard bargain, y/n.”

With that, she closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a playful kiss that was both tender and exhilarating. Pulling away, she gave you a bright grin. “Now, let’s get going! I want to be the first in line for the biggest roller coaster!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you got dressed, the anticipation building for the thrilling day ahead. With Jinx by your side, you knew it was going to be unforgettable.

As you arrive at the amusement park, laughter and the sounds of thrilling rides fill the air, creating a pulse of excitement all around you. Colorful banners swayed gently in the breeze, and the smell of popcorn and cotton candy wafted toward you, adding to the lively energy.

“Look at that roller coaster!” she says, pointing to the towering ride that twisted and turned against the blue sky. It seemed to reach for the clouds, and you could feel the rush of excitement in her voice. “We have to ride that first!”

You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. “You really want to start with the scariest one?”

“Of course! What’s the fun in starting with something boring?” she grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Come on!”

With that, she grabbed your hand, leading you through the entrance and toward the colossal ride. The closer you got, the more you could feel the vibrations of the roller coaster beneath your feet as it soared and dropped. You feel a mix of thrill and nerves, but her energy is contagious, and soon you’re grinning ear to ear.

“This is gonna be epic!” she shouted as you stepped into the line. You could feel your heart racing—not just from the impending ride, but from the fact that you were here with her, sharing this exhilarating experience.

Finally, it was your turn to board the ride. As you settled into your seat, Jinx glanced over at you, her expression a mix of excitement and determination. “Ready?” she asked, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the ride.

“Ready as I’ll ever be!” you replied, squeezing her hand tightly.

The ride lurched forward, and with each click of the ascent, you could hear Jinx’s laughter rising above the noise. When the coaster finally reached its peak, time seemed to slow as you looked down at the ground far below. She lets out a wild scream, and in that moment, your nerves melt away.

“Here we go!” she shouted as the coaster plummeted, the rush of wind hitting your face and the thrill of the drop sending you into fits of laughter. You screamed alongside her, both of you exhilarated and alive as the ride twisted and turned, your bodies pressing together as you shared the experience.

When the ride finally came to a stop, you stumbled off, breathless and giddy. Jinx grabbed your shoulders, her eyes wide with excitement. “That was incredible! Let’s go again!”

You laughed, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins. “You really want to? I thought I was going to lose my breakfast!”

“Not a chance!” she insisted, dragging you back into line. “It’s even better the second time!”

As you rode again and again, the thrill of the rides kept you both energized and in high spirits. You laughed, screamed, and held on tight to each other, the thrill of the park creating a bond that felt unbreakable.

After a few more rides, you both decided to take a break. Jinx suggested grabbing some snacks, and you headed toward a colorful food stand that sold everything from funnel cakes to fried dough.

“Fried dough!” she announced, her eyes lighting up. “We have to get some!”

You ordered a plate to share, and as you both took a seat on a nearby bench, Jinx eagerly pulled apart the dough, steam rising as she handed you a piece. “You have to try it!” she insisted, taking a huge bite and giving you a thumbs up.

You chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Alright, alright.” You took a bite, and the sweet, fluffy goodness melted in your mouth. “This is amazing!”

“See? I told you!” she said, grinning as powdered sugar dusted her lips. You reached out to wipe it away with your thumb, and she leaned in, her smile brightening. “You know, you’ve got a little something right here…”

Before you could respond, she leaned in and pressed her lips to yours, a burst of spontaneity between you. You could feel the world around you fade as the kiss deepened, a perfect blend of sweetness and excitement.

Breaking away, Jinx giggled, her cheeks flushed with exhilaration. “Okay, enough of that. We have more rides to try”

“Alright, what’s next?” you asked, feeling completely swept up in her energy.

Jinx’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Let’s hit the carousel! I can’t resist those colorful horses”

You laughed at her enthusiasm. “Sounds good to me! But after that, I think we should find something thrilling to balance it out.”

She nudged you playfully, a mischievous grin on her face. “Deal! Now, let’s go!”

As you hopped onto the carousel, you spotted a beautifully painted horse near the center. With a grin, you climbed onto it, and Jinx quickly followed, settling in behind you. She wrapped her arms around your waist, her excitement palpable.

“Perfect spot!” she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with joy. “This is going to be so much fun!”

The carousel began to spin, the colorful lights twinkling around you as cheerful music filled the air. You could feel the gentle rise and fall of the horse beneath you, and the laughter of other riders blended with the music, creating an atmosphere of pure delight.

Jinx leaned her head against your back, her warmth wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. “I love this!” she said, her voice filled with wonder. “Look at all the colors! It’s like we’re in a dream!”

You smiled, glancing around at the spinning horses, the bright lights, and the joyful faces of people enjoying the ride. “It really is magical,” you replied, feeling a warmth spread in your chest.

As the carousel turned, you could hear Jinx giggling behind you. “I feel like a kid again! This is the best date ever!”

Her enthusiasm was contagious, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re not even riding the horse properly! You’re supposed to hold on tight!”

“I’m holding on to you!” she countered, squeezing you playfully.

The ride continued, and you savored the moment—her laughter, the way her arms felt around you, and the pure happiness radiating from her. You glanced back at Jinx, her eyes sparkling with excitement, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

“Hey, can we just stay here forever?” Jinx asked, her tone playful yet sincere. “I could ride this carousel all day if it means being close to you like this.”

You felt your heart flutter at her words. “I wouldn’t mind that at all,” you replied, leaning back into her embrace, feeling her warmth against you. “Just you and me, surrounded by all this magic.”

As the carousel spun, you both took in the world around you—laughter, lights, and the vibrant colors—and it felt like time stood still. The ride was a delightful blur, but the moment spent with Jinx was everything. You felt happy and safe, like nothing could touch you as long as you were together.

As the carousel began to slow, Jinx nestled closer, resting her chin on your shoulder. “I’m not ready for this to end,” she murmured softly, her voice filled with affection.

“Neither am I,” you admitted, glancing back at her with a smile. “But we still have plenty of rides left, right?”

“Right! Let’s make this day unforgettable!” Jinx replied, her enthusiasm infectious as the ride came to a stop. You both hopped off, hand in hand.

With the carousel ride behind you, you and Jinx wandered deeper into the amusement park, the cheerful sounds of laughter and music enveloping you. Jinx practically bounced on her feet as she scanned the array of rides and games.

“Okay, what’s next?” she asked, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “We have to find something that’ll make us scream!”

You chuckled, glancing around at the various attractions. “How about that other roller coaster over there?” You pointed to the towering red structure, its tracks twisting and turning dramatically in the sky.

“Absolutely! Let’s go!” Jinx exclaimed, tugging you along as you dashed toward the entrance. The line was fairly short, and you both climbed into the seat, securing the harness over your bodies. The anticipation made your heart race even before the ride began.

As the roller coaster climbed higher, the world below seemed to shrink away. As the roller coaster climbs, the world below shrinks away. You grip the safety bar, but your eyes keep flicking back to her. Her laughter rang out above the clattering of the ride, bright and infectious.

“Look at us go!” she shouted, her eyes sparkling with excitement. The sunlight caught her, making her sparkle with joy. You couldn’t help but smile at the sheer joy radiating from her.

At that moment, you realized how much you loved seeing her like this—completely immersed in the thrill of the ride, free and unrestrained. The anticipation built as the coaster reached its peak, and for a brief second, time seemed to freeze. You turned your head to take in her wide smile, the way her cheeks dimpled with happiness, and how her eyes shone like stars.

“Are you ready?” you yelled over the roar of the wind, your heart pounding with excitement and affection.

“Ready as I’ll ever be!” she shouted back, her voice bubbling with thrill.

As the coaster crested the hill and plunged down, you both screamed together, but as the ride twisted and turned, you couldn’t shake the feeling of pure elation. The world blurred around you, but all you could focus on was Jinx.

When the ride hit a particularly steep drop, Jinx threw her arms up, her joyful shrieks intertwining with your own. In that exhilarating moment, you feel completely alive, caught up in the rush of the ride and the thrill of her laughter beside you.

When the coaster finally slowed, and you both emerged, breathless and giddy, you caught Jinx’s eye again. She was still riding the high of the experience, a brilliant smile lighting up her face.

“Did you see how I totally owned that ride?” she bragged, her playful energy contagious.

“I think you made the roller coaster look easy!” you laughed, unable to help but admire her enthusiasm. “You’re the queen of thrills!”

She nudged you playfully, her laughter ringing out like music. “And you’re my trusty sidekick! We can conquer any ride!”

You stand together, breathless, sharing a moment of pure joy. As her thrill settles into a quiet smile, you feel incredibly lucky to be here with her.

“Seriously, though,” you said softly, your heart full. “You being this happy is infectious; I love it”

Jinx’s expression softened, her playful demeanor melting into something more sincere. “And I love being here with you. You make everything more fun.”

You couldn’t help but grin at her words, feeling a rush of affection swell in your chest. In that moment, surrounded by the sounds of the amusement park and the thrill of adventure, you knew this was a memory you’d cherish forever.

“Ready for the next ride?” she asked, her mischievous grin returning.

“Always,” you replied, taking her hand as you both charged forward into the next adventure, the warmth of her joy still lingering in your heart.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the amusement park, you and Jinx made your way toward the last two rides of the day. The energy in the air felt electric, and you could tell Jinx was buzzing with excitement.

“Okay, how about we hit that spinning ride next?” Jinx suggested, pointing at a colorful attraction that looked like it twisted and turned in every direction. The bright lights flickered like stars, and you could hear the laughter of those who were already on it.

“Let’s do it!” you agreed, feeling a thrill of anticipation as you approached the ride. The line moved quickly, and before you knew it, you were seated in the colorful car, the safety bar lowering over your laps.

As the ride started, it spun faster and faster, making your head spin along with it. Jinx squealed with delight, throwing her hands up in the air as you clutched the bar. The world blurred around you, and all you could focus on was her laughter. It was impossible not to get caught up in her joy, even as the ride twisted you around in dizzying circles.

“Wheeee!” Jinx shouted, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “This is the best! Are you dizzy yet?”

“Not as much as you are!” you called back, laughing as you felt the exhilaration wash over you. The ride took you higher and higher, and with each twist, Jinx’s laughter echoed, wrapping around you like a warm hug.

After what felt like both an eternity and a brief moment, the ride finally slowed to a stop. You stumbled out, your head still spinning but your heart racing with excitement. “That was insane!” you said, trying to catch your breath.

Jinx grinned at you, her cheeks flushed from the thrill. “See? I told you it would be fun!”

“Okay, I’ll admit, you were right,” you replied, your heart full. “But I think we should end with something a little more relaxing—like the Ferris wheel.”

“Great idea! Let’s go!” she exclaimed, practically bouncing on her feet as she led the way through the park.

The line for the Ferris wheel was shorter than you’d expected, and soon enough, you found yourselves seated in one of the bright gondolas, the world sprawling out beneath you. As the wheel began to ascend, the sights of the amusement park spread out below you, the colorful lights glowing against the twilight sky.

Jinx leaned against the railing, her gaze wide as she took in the view. “Look at everything! It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed, her excitement infectious.

You watched her, a smile spreading across your face. “You’re beautiful,” you said, unable to resist the urge to tell her how you felt.

Jinx turned to you, her expression softening. “You’re just saying that because you want me to kiss you at the top,” she teased, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.

“Maybe,” you admitted, feeling a warmth spread through you. “But I mean it.”

The gondola reached the top, and you both paused, the world stretched out before you, illuminated by thousands of twinkling lights. In that moment, it felt like time stood still.

“Okay, I guess you earned your kiss,” Jinx said, her tone playful yet sincere. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your lips.

The kiss was soft at first, a sweet exchange filled with the magic of the moment. But as the moment stretched on, the kiss deepened, fueled by the thrill of the rides and the affection you felt for each other. You lost yourself in her warmth, feeling the world fade away until it was just the two of you.

“Wow,” Jinx whispered as she pulled back, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “We should ride the Ferris wheel more often!”

“Agreed,” you chuckled, still feeling the heat of her lips against yours.

As the gondola began its descent, you both held hands tightly, the laughter of the park swirling around you, the joy of the day wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

Once you stepped off the Ferris wheel, Jinx turned to you, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Okay, what's next on our adventure list?" she asked, practically bouncing on her feet with enthusiasm. You could tell she was still riding the high from the day, her spirit infectious.

“I think we should finish off with that free-fall ride over there,” you suggested, pointing toward the towering structure that loomed in the distance. It promised an exhilarating drop that would leave your stomach in your throat.

“Are you serious? Yes!” Jinx exclaimed, her eyes lighting up even more. “Let’s go!”

You both raced toward the ride, the atmosphere buzzing around you with laughter and the sounds of joy. As you approached the entrance, your heart quickened at the thought of what was to come. You glanced at Jinx, who was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Just a heads up,” you said, your voice teasing. “If I scream, it’s totally your fault for dragging me on this.”

She laughed, her expression mischievous. “Bring it on! You’ll be screaming for a different reason after we ride this!”

After a brief wait, you both climbed into your seats. The safety bar clicked down, and you felt a mix of anxiety and thrill coursing through you. The ride slowly ascended, your view of the park expanding with every passing moment. The world below shrank, and you could see the lights twinkling like stars.

“Look how high we are!” Jinx shouted over the wind, her laughter mixing with the sounds of the ride. She looked over at you, her eyes wide with excitement. “This is going to be epic!”

Just as you were about to respond, the ride reached its peak. For a brief second, everything went still, the anticipation hanging in the air like a charged electric current. Then, without warning, the ground dropped away, and you were hurtling downward.

The scream tore from your lips, but it was quickly drowned out by Jinx’s ecstatic laughter. You felt the adrenaline rush through you, a whirlwind of emotions as the ride fell and spun, your heart racing with each wild twist. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

When the ride finally came to a stop, you staggered out, breathless and dizzy. Jinx caught your arm, her grin bright as she pulled you close. “That was amazing! Did you scream like a baby?”

“Only because you were having too much fun to notice!” you shot back, both of you laughing as you caught your breath.

With the sky darkening, the lights of the amusement park twinkled even more brilliantly. You took a moment to glance around, realizing how much fun you had together. Jinx’s presence made every moment feel alive, electric with energy.

“Last ride?” you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

“Definitely!” she agreed, her eyes shining. “Let’s do the bumper cars! I need to take out some of this adrenaline!”

You both dashed to the bumper cars, excited for one last bit of fun. Once inside your cars, you wasted no time in ramming into each other. Laughter erupted as you bumped and dodged, the chaotic energy only amplifying the joy of the day.

Jinx drove aggressively, her wild spirit shining through as she veered toward a cluster of unsuspecting kids, gleefully bumping into their cars. “Watch out, little ones!” she laughed, narrowly missing a child who squealed in delight. “You can’t escape me!” she shouted, slamming into your side with playful ferocity.

“Watch out!” you yelled, your laughter mingling with the shrieks of surprise as Jinx zigzagged through the bumper cars, crashing into another car filled with giggling children. “You’re going to scare them!”

After several minutes of playful chaos, the ride finally ended. You both stepped out, exhilarated and a little breathless. Jinx looked over at you, her cheeks flushed with happiness, a mischievous grin lighting up her face as she surveyed the delighted chaos she’d left in her wake.

“Best day ever,” she said, her smile radiant.

You couldn’t help but grin back. “Yeah, it really was.”

As you walked hand in hand toward the park exit, you could feel the warmth of her fingers intertwined with yours. The laughter and joy of the day lingered in the air, a sweet reminder of the moments you shared.

“Next time, we should make it a weekend adventure,” Jinx suggested, her voice dreamy as you both strolled beneath the twinkling lights.

“Definitely. Just as long as you promise to scream with me on the roller coasters,” you replied, nudging her playfully.

“Only if you promise to let me drive the bumper cars again next time!” she shot back, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Deal,” you laughed, pulling her close as you stepped out of the amusement park, knowing that no matter where your adventures took you, each moment with Jinx would always be unforgettable.

[wispyatomica]

Nightmare

The 1999 brain rot is so bad that I'm back to writing stories about my Drifter. Enjoy this short one-shot of Amir experiencing a nightmare about the reactor incident with some Amir/drifter fluff. <3

“We’re not gonna make it man! I can’t even compile in time.” 

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum. 

His heart is racing in his chest, the sound deafening the alarms ringing off all around him. Sweat is pooling on his forehead and temples, and he feels like he cannot move his fingers fast enough on this keyboard. He's got to compile this data, he's got to find a way in to shut down the reactor. Faster. He's got to go FASTER.

“Then we go down swinging!” 

Ba-dumBa-dumBa-dumBa-dum  

Amir grits his teeth, grunting in pain as his heart continues to pump faster. Sparks of electricity trail off the adornments of his shoulders. The weight of his chest begins to grow, and his lungs begin to feel like they cannot get enough air. He puts a hand to his chest, grasping at his heart with another agonized groan of pain. “Not now. Not NOW.” 

FASTER AMIR. You have to be FASTER! 

If he isn’t faster he can’t save Höllvania, his friends, and then his racing thoughts paused for the briefest moment, Kali... He can't save Kali if he isn't fast enough. 

FASTER, AMIR. You can't lose her! Don't lose them, YOU CAN COMPILE IN TIME. C'MON AMIR, FASTER. 

BadumBadumBadumBadum  BadumBadumBadumBadum  BadumBadumBadumBadum  

FASTER. FASTER. FASTER

Amir moves his fingers as fast as he can on the console to the reactor, it’s got seconds until it goes critical. The thumping of his heart in his chest grows so loud, nothing else can penetrate, not even his rampaging thoughts. The alarms go silent, the blood pulsing through his veins is all he can hear. The pressure in his chest is too much, he throws his hand to his chest once more, another agonizing groan of pain leaving his throat. His chest is surely going to explode, the pressure is too much! He can’t take it anymore! 

He wasn't fast enough...

------------

Brown eyes shoot wide open, sparks fly from his fingertips as Amir shoots up from the nightmare he was having. He put a hand to his chest, desperately pulling at location of his agonizing pain. Sol did his heart explode? It felt so real.  His lungs felt still like there was no room for him to breathe. His breaths were short and frantic, his eyes were darting around trying to figure out if he was alive, or if he was dead.

“Amir..” 

He pauses, is he still dreaming? He holds his breath for a few seconds, realizing that his wandering eyes recognized where he was. This looks like the backroom he and Kali share, but is he really there? Sol that nightmare was a bad one, it felt so real. He takes another longer breathe, trying to calm his racing heart. He swore that he heard Kali calling his name, was that real? Is anything real? WAIT! Hold on, he closes his eyes for a moment to recall the reactor incident as it actually happened. This memory of her voice calling to him…He remembers now. His heart didn’t give out because she was there to help bring him from the depths of his panic attack in that moment at the reactor. He sighed heavily, taking a deep breath as he had when Kali helped him in transference, practicing the breathing that he recalled from that moment. He jumps slightly when a pair of hands wrap around his waist. 

“Amir, everything okay?” 

He moves his head to his right, he sees the sleepy visage of Kali rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, her wine colored hair lightly frayed from the static charge of electricity he had unknowingly released. 

Another slowed sigh left his chest, slowly he was beginning to feel the panic attack coming down. The blood pulsing in his veins and ears becoming quieter. 

“Yeah…I’m alright babycakes. Just…had a nightmare.” 

A soft frown forms on Kali’s face, she shifts on the bed to be closer at his side and brings a hand to his cheek. She delicately traces the scar on his left cheek, and he leans into her touch as another soft calming exhale leaves his lips. 

“What happened? Do you want to talk about it?” She asked. He slightly hesitated as he brought up his hand to cover hers, gently gripping onto her fingers like she might slip away from him if he were to let go. He felt his heart skip a beat in his chest at her question. He shouldn’t have to talk about his nightmares, he’s a grown man! He’s got to be able to grow up and deal with his own problems on his own!  She isn’t gonna want to be with a crybaby like him for the rest of their lives. She has so much more that she should be worried about, not him! His gaze is pointed down at the sheets, at the hand he isn’t using to hold onto her as it rests in his lap. His fingers are stimming, fidgeting like they always do when he gets worked up in his thoughts.

“Hey, look at me…” 

Her voice was the softest and purest thing to listen to, oh how he could listen to her talk for ages. Amir lifted his head to meet her gaze, his beautiful coffee brown eyes locking into her olive green ones.  “I am not going anywhere okay? I love you, Amir Beckett.” 

Amir allows himself another final deep and calming breath, his heart no longer racing in his chest as he leans forward towards Kali. The motion is matched by her, and they lock their lips in a tender kiss. It’s so reassuring that she’s here, that she is by his side. He is literally so lucky to have her. He is the first to part from the kiss, and shrugs his shoulders. 

“It was about what happened at the reactor…with my whole y’know panic attack in the most critically important moment of the mission.” He paused to take a breathe, “Becauseofcoursenot, whywouldn’tIhaveapanicattackwhiletryingtosaveHöllvaniaandmyfriendsfromanuclearexplosion.”  He rapidly fired out so quickly as he tends to do when stressed, but thankfully Kali was able to follow along just fine. "I'm not supposed to be here, I'm not supposed to be THIS guy."  She gently takes one of her hands into his lap and interlocks it with his to help ground him. He paused his ramblings, allowing a soft smile to cross his lips as he gently squeezed her hand.

“I could feel my heart beating out of my chest, my blood was boiling in my body. The same feeling when all of…this… happened to me. I couldn’t breathe, I didn’t have TIME to breathe.” 

Kali gently squeezed his fingers, tracing her thumb across his knuckles in a soothing motion. 

“You….you didn’t come this time…In that dream. I didn’t feel you, y’know Void magic on me. I woke up when it felt like my heart was actually…well exploding.” He pause for a moment, his head beginning to lower, almost in shame. "And I know that didn't happen, be cause you did help me, but this is just what Amir's brain does! Takes the worst moments or memories and hyper focus and think of how it could have been WAY worse."

Kali’s lips pursed into a frown, and she gently leaned her head against Amir’s shoulder.

He reconciled the motion by leaning his head against hers. This was probably the slowest that his thoughts had been in awhile, but then again, she had that effect on him. 

“Amir, I’m sorry that you carry so much in that beautiful brain of yours.” Her fingers continued to methodically trace along his knuckles. Amir gently made a humming sound, almost like the purr of a kavat, and it was followed by a small chuckle. "Flattery will not-" He paused for a moment, "Well, actually flattery will always get you far, schnookums." 

A hearty chuckle left Kali's chest as she lifted her head from his shoulder to once again look into his stunning eyes. Their gaze sat on each other for moments. "Think you'll be able to get back to sleep?" Amir shook his head, the thought of laying back down and trying to sleep again was definitely not in his head at that moment. He feared that he would spiral into another nightmare, his mind drifting to the one of Arthur that he's had numerous times before. He looked upwards to the roof, eyes heavy from the adrenaline crash he was now experiencing. His fingers fidgeted in his lap before he released her hand and brought it up to rub his hands through his hair, "Nah, I think I'm gonna need to stay up for a little bit. Maybe play the gamepad to ease the nerves." 

When his head lowered to once again look at his beloved Drifter, she had her hand extended out with his purple and green gamepad in it, offering it to him. 

Sol, how did I get THIS lucky. He thought to himself, before taking the gamepad in his hands and quickly starting the game up. He settled back down in the bed, head leaning comfortably against the downy pillow. He leaned over and picked up his glasses that were resting on the nightstand and put them on. 

Kali settled into his side, leaning on her elbow as a heavy yawn left her chest. While Amir wouldn't be going to sleep right away, she definitely would be going back to sleep. She was preparing to settle herself into the nook of his arm and chest, when he suddenly made a quick move. His hand had put the gamepad down so fast she didn't even have time to comprehend his next action. He took his hands on either side of her face, leaning into her and connecting their lips in a very passionate kiss.

She closed her eyes as their lips locked to each other, and leaned into his gentle but firm grip on her face. Their lips and tongues danced around for several minutes before he pulled away from her and offered the purest smile.  "Thank you for loving me for me. I love you Kali. I. Love. You. So much."  

Kali felt her heart flutter in her chest as she gently tucked her wine hair behind her shoulders matching his smile. "I love you too, Amir." 

Amir then just as quickly picked up his game console and once again settled back down in the bed, but this time he let Kali actually slide into the nook of his shoulder and chest. She nuzzled her head into the skin turned partial warframe metal and sighed heavily as she closed her eyes to go back to sleep. By this point, Amir was already tapping away at the gamepad and settling his brain into the game to allow himself the reprieve that he needed. It didn't take long before he heard the gentle sounds of Kali's breathing, with the occasional very soft snore. 

"How did I get this lucky?" He mused to himself.

[absolutelybifurious]

cancelling the apocalypse

buddie | complete | 122k | pacrim au | drift compatible idiots | angst with a happy ending

He doesn’t know how he knows, but he does. Buck’s exhale quivers. “Eddie.” They lock eyes, and Eddie feels Buck’s heartbeat, like it’s overlaid with his, this twin intention – twin purpose – that ignites in his bloodstream. Buck nods and hits another charge. Rampage keeps coming. “Guys – guys, you’re… the handshake’s—it’s destabilizing, it’s… it’s going—up?” “100% sync,” someone says, “I’ll be damned.” Eddie feels the pulse along his arm, feels it arc, and rather than firing it, he thrusts it up, as the charge from Buck’s winds its way into the plasma, sharpens until it’s a point, until it extends up, until Rampage slams headlong into it – along it, bisected, as it falls into two pieces, soaking Acero with the burn of neon blue. It burns but fades. Silence falls between them, and Eddie’s limbs shake as the thrum of the canon lingers along his arm. He doubles over with a few raking gasps, licking at some of the blood staining his lower lip, and finally, he meets Buck’s eyes through another tremor. “Holy shit,” Buck says on a laugh. “Holy shit, Eddie.” Eddie laughs, and it’s bloody, but his chest feels light. “Right?”

okay so because i never did a completed post for this and because this incredible fucking gifset now exists and ive been stalking the tags seeing like oh man i want a buddie pacrim au well GUESS WHAT MOTHERFUCKER I WROTE ONE (im sorry for calling you a motherfucker its a term of endearment)

anyway most people probably know about it but hey, i like it and so i'm making a completed post like a month late

[read on ao3]

[dopemarksevenpen]

Killing people >>>>

[eevees-hobbies]

cockwarming with ren , he's impatient but when you're a brat? yeah no that's his favourite thing ever.

also I should probably sign off as an emoji :3 , so call me 💌 anon ! :P

💌 anon?! Welcome back <3 So, like, we’re official, right? I love that for us–I’ll tuck you away nicely in my pocket, and as long as you sign off for me, I’ll include your love letter emoji in my tag <3

So cockwarming, huh? With Kaji? Wow. I can see the vision, babe.

Content Warning: vindictive, manipulative brattyness, jealousy, just the tip, clit smacking, cockwarming, teasing, choking, begging, validation. Minors Do Not Interact.

You’ve been pushing Kaji’s buttons all day—first, by not responding to his text messages promptly, which resulted in palpitations on his end. Were you ok? Were you safe? He was ready to go on a rampage until you answered with a one-worded “K” that made his eyebrow twitch. He had sent you a link to a song you requested. What made you think responding “K” to I Prevail’s Body Bag was appropriate anyway? It’s a good fucking song! Deep breaths, Kaji…

Then you were being far too friendly with Sakura. He watched as you dragged your hand, which he kisses, along Sakura’s chest. And what the fuck were you laughing at? He’s not even funny. Even deeper breaths, Kaji…

And your worst crime? Your worst offense? Not getting up to hug him as he walked through the door. You stayed on your phone, silently laughing at some dumb cat video that was probably AI-generated! Sure, you smiled at him and said, “welcome home, Kaji,” But where the fuck was his hug?

While Kaji wonders what’s gotten into you, you’re silently rejoicing in delight as you sneak a look at your flustered boyfriend. The truth is, you know exactly what you’re doing. A riled-up Kaji is an absolute monster of a man in the bedroom.

So later that night, when you wiggle your ass enticingly against his crotch as he’s spooning you, you fully expect to be left a blubbering, crying, fucked-out mess.

But what you didn’t plan on was Kaji being onto you. As he lifts the slip of your nightgown and presses his dick against your already wet folds, slipping the tip in, you brace yourself in excited anticipation to accept the entirety of his girthy cock.

But you wait, and wait, and wait. 

You blink and look over your shoulder, ready to question him and his inactivity, but you're met with the meanest scowl you’ve ever seen. It makes you turn around quickly and bow your head.

“K-kaji?”

“What?”

“Um, you, um, just put the tip in?”

“And?”

And? And? And? The word repeats in your head as you realize that maybe you fucked up today. Maybe you pushed him a little too far. 

But perhaps you could just move a little to get things going? After all, this was your baby boy, and he couldn’t resist your charm-

“Move an inch, and I’ll pull out.”

You almost gasp at his tone, at his unwillingness to budge, at how hot he sounds when he reprimands you like this.

Kaji snakes an arm around your front, slipping it in between your breasts and locking his fingers around your throat. He moves closer to you, which gives you about half an inch more of his cock but not nearly enough to satiate you.

“You’ve been awful all day,” his fingers tighten around your throat, and you swallow thickly, hoping that the constraint of his hand around your windpipe gives you a good high.

“Kaji I-”

“You speak when I tell you to speak.”

Oh, god, fuuuuuuck.

You can’t help but pulse around his dick; the way his voice growls in your ear is heavenly.

Kaji, who is not an idiot by any means, narrows his eyes at your blatant show of arousal, “you wanted this.”

No shit.

You shake your head like a good little girl, though.

“Don’t lie to me.” His grip tightens around your throat, and in what feels like a ridiculously cruel overreaction, Kaji reaches around and delivers a swift smack to your clit.

You yelp and backtrack immediately, your voice hampered by the pressure he has around your neck, “O-ok! Yes!”

Silence befalls you, and you’re thankful that you can at least get your bearings to allow the burning sensation in your pussy to subside.

“I guess I should reward you for your honesty,” Kaji says rather quietly, but you pay no mind to the volume of his voice. You only hear him offer a sweet reward, which you hope is in the form of him finally splitting you open.

And to your absolute delight, Kaji pushes into you, stretching your lush, silky walls with firm, thick muscle. You tremble and brace again for more, but Kaji is not feeling merciful.

Instead, he stays like that, cock buried inside of you but unmoving, and it feels absolutely torturous.

But what can you do? You did this to yourself, so maybe you should think twice about acting like you have absolutely no good sense.

You rack your brain, thinking of what could put you back in his good graces. An apology? Gross, no. Begging? You’re not above it.

“Kaji,” you say carefully, “I really want you to fuck me. Like really badly, baby.”

You feel him twitch inside of you–your sweet voice hard to resist, and you know it, but petty is forever.

“I told you to stop talking.” Another swift slap is delivered to your aching and drooling mound, and tears start to well up in the corner of your eyes.

You feel shifting behind you, the sound of a drawer opening and the unmistakable sound of a wrapper being removed and candy knocking against teeth as Kaji places a sucker in his mouth.

You sniffle, realizing that he could most likely do this all night.

The sniffle you make earns you another twitch of his cock.

Sadistic bastard.

It feels like an agonizing amount of time before Kaji speaks again, “bounce back on my dick like a good girl.”

And you’re so eager to fulfill his request that without a second thought, you roll your hips, quickly jerking off his cock with your cunt. You can hear him groan, and it sounds like a melody in your ears—his vocal validation serving as a high you didn’t know you needed.

But between your bounces, you need something else from him that you so desperately crave. “Kaji,” you whine, “say sweet things to me, please.”

And if only you knew how hard it was for him to hold back sweet, loving words from you this entire time, perhaps you would have waited just a bit longer because he was going to break soon, anyway.

Kaji moans and places a hand on your hip. “My baby, I love you so much.”

There it is. 

“I love you too, Kaji. I love you so fucking much.”

And it’s like a dam breaks, your words giving way to thrusts that are now meeting your bounces, Kaji moaning things like, “this pussy is mine, right baby?” “I’ve missed you all day. Did you miss me?” “You feel so good. Fuck, bounce just like fucking that.”

And you agree loudly to anything and everything he says because it’s his, his, his. 

And you swear you can hear a whimper behind you, his grip on your hip almost painful as he pulls out so far that just the tip is inside you and thrusts forward, filling you back up again.

And as Kaji continues to fuck you, you can’t help but think that you ended up getting what you wanted anyway.

[2tcs]

Danny’s Journal or A Countdown to the Beginning

Summary: A look into the year leading up to the accident from the perspective of a forgotten journal.

February 9, 2002

Dear journal. Mom and Dad said they had a surprise for me and Jazz when we get home from school. Please God don't let it be another ghost gun or something. My hair is still singed from the last one.

Update. It was, in fact, a gun. Jazz now has a mild burn on her arm and is screaming how they need therapy. Not disagreeing but I don't think it's going to happen.

February 12, 2002

Dear journal. Happy birthday. A year ago Jazz gave you to me for my birthday. How my parents haven't accidentally destroyed you I don't know.

Me Tucker, Sam, and Jazz went out to eat for my birthday. Sam even had her family driver take us a town over to try that new restaurant. Well, that's what their excuse was.  I think they were trying to get me out of the house for a little bit since Mom and Dad are going on a rampage through the house disassembling all the appliances. It's 10 pm and I can still hear noise coming from the basement.

March 26, 2002

I have the best idea for an April Fools prank. It involves chez whiz and glitter.

April 1, 2002

The prank worked like a charm. The jocks are going to smell like cheese for weeks. And they ain't ever getting the glitter out.

On the downside. Dash broke my arm and Mom and Dad put a “Fenton Anti-ghost Cast” on me. It kinda glows and makes my arm feel weird.

April 23, 2002

Sam’s birthday party was a glorious disaster this year. Her mom decided to do a princess-themed party. We have been preparing for this day since Sam found one of her mom’s work journals. We managed to sneak paint and glitter bombs into the venue before anyone got there. We even managed to get one on each of the chandeliers. It was awesome. Everyone got covered in black paint and red glitter. 

What we didn’t account for was Grandma Ida hiring professional snake handlers to bring in a bunch of snakes for Sam. The snakes were non-venomous and luckily were all caught after one of the rich people bumped into the table that the snake cage was on. And the paint was non-toxic so it was easy to clean off the snakes too without them getting sick. Still kinda feel bad that the snakes got caught in the crossfire though.

May 20, 2002

🎵Schools out for the summer!🎵 Lol this is going to be so exciting. Our last summer as middle schoolers. Nothing but the big leagues after this!

June 13, 2002

Dad wants to go camping for Father's Day so we're going to head out tomorrow morning. Think I heard them mention Lake Arrowhead. That'll be cool. Haven't fished there before.

June 15, 2002

I don't know how but we're in Gotham. Apparently, there's some stupid ghost conversation going on so we're going to be stuck here for the next week. On the pulse side though I found a really cool cafe not too far from the hotel. And they don’t seem to care if you just hang out as long as their not busy and you buy something. Me and Jazz will probably be spending a lot of time here or at their library. It’s huge and has an entire section of space!

June 16, 2002

Turns out I'm allergic to something called Blood Blossoms. Mom and Dad ended up having some guy try to cleanse me of “the evil spook” after I accidentally brushed up against the flowers he had on his table. Jazz had to convince them to get me to the hospital. Luckily one of the guys walking around had an epi pen. So that helped. Still sucks and now I'm stuck at the hotel while Jazz frets like a mother hen. I don't think she's even realized that she has a rash on her hand from when she threw the flowers away from me.

June 19, 2002

So… Batman is real… wtf? He apparently has some questions for Mom and Dad but they haven't come back yet. He apologized to me and Jazz for waking us up and gave us suckers? Which. Weird. And Jazz threw them away when he left because “stranger danger is still a thing even if they are a hero”. RIP little Root Beer flavored DumDum. You will be missed.

And on the other hand, Robin was pretty cool. He's snarky and brave and hilarious and he is just so cool. 10/10 New favorite Robin. He even gave me a book recommendation for the report I'm supposed to turn in at the start of freshman year.

June 22, 2002

We were supposed to leave Gotham today. We were supposed to finally head to one of the lakes on the way home to do some camping and fishing. We were supposed to have a relaxing time. So please journal. Can you tell me why the giant wannabe scaly just threw the GAV? Now we are going to be stuck in this stupid city for another week while Mom and Dad fix it.

June 24, 2002

I made a new friend! Do you remember that cafe I talked about a few days ago? Well, I met a guy there. His name is Jason. He’s an absolute lit nerd but is way cool. The guy’s got muscles underneath his school uniform too. The guy looks like he could snap me like a twig yet isn’t at all like Dash. Hopefully, we can keep in contact after we head back to Amity. For now, we are planning on meeting up at the cafe tomorrow with our favorite books. I found “Star Stories”at the library so I’m bringing it with me. I don’t know if he likes stars but I hope he likes some of the stories about them.

July 9, 2002

Finally back at home. Dad had smuggled fireworks into the GAV (how they didn’t explode when KC threw it in Gotham idk) so we spent the 4th of July shooting them off at the lake. We ended up going to Lake Erie for the camping trip because Mom heard something at the convention about a ghost hanging out around there. Didn’t see any ghosts but the fishing was good. I even caught a bass the size of my head! All around it was really fun! Oh and the stars were so clear! The Summer Triangle was so clear you could point out Vega, Deneb, and Altair! It was so cool! Did you know that Vega is in the Lyra constellation? Or Deneb is in the Cygnus Constellation. And Altair is a part of the Aquila constellation!

Maybe I should ask if Mom and Dad could get me another journal for charting the stars. I’ll need the practice if I want to become an astronaut.

July 29, 2002

It’s a good thing that I got two of everything when me, Sam, and Tucker went shopping for school supplies. I got a lot of new space-themed stuff but the moment I got home Dad insisted on ghost-proofing my new backpack… It melted. I don’t even know how he managed to melt a canvas bag. It didn’t even catch fire first. Just started melting the moment Dad started spraying his new “Fenten Ecto-Rejecto Spray” on it. Wtf Dad.

On the plus side, Sam found a new coffin backpack and Tucker was able to get a new bag that had a pouch that he can put the walkman he got yesterday for his birthday. He is so hyped about it. 

August 6, 2002

School starts next week and I am so hyped. Finally going to be a high schooler. Cool Kids Club here we go!

August 15, 2002

Kill me now. May the Gods strike me down and end my suffering. May the Faits find me lacking and cut my string. May the Crone tear me from the tapestry, the mother rejects my thread from the loom and the maiden take the wool of my youth and set it aside.

Sam has just informed me that that isn’t quite what the Mother, Maiden, and Crone do but whatever. Just know that everything sucks because apparently someone called the house phone and told Mom and Dad that there was a ghost in the school. The A-listers are blaming me for ruining their high school debut.

August 30, 2002

Mom and Dad have started making more noise in the lab than normal. It’s gotten to the point that Jazz has been spending more time at the library to study. Speaking of Jazz, she has been obsessing over self-help and psychology books lately. I mean. Jazz has always talked up therapy but now she’s kinda getting snooty about it. Sam suggested we start hanging out at that gazebo thingy at the park so we can get our work done on the nicer days. We’ll have to hang at Tucker's place though on the rainy days. Sam’s parents have decided that it’s time to put their foot down and get Sam to “socialize with your actual peers Sammy-kins so that you can make better connections and start networking” or whatever. So basically Sam’s mom doesn’t want her to be associated with us plebs I guess.

September 8, 2002

Mom and Dad repurposed the fridge so they could put samples in it. Apparently, the one in the lab broke. The green stuff in the tubes kinda creeps me out. Jazz is yelling at them about it. I kinda agree. Cross-contamination anyone? Think I’m gonna eat out at Nasty more often.

September 28, 2002

Either I’m going crazy or the leftover chicken and noodle soup in the fridge was moving. Like the noodles were wiggling around like worms or something. Jazz ordered pizza.

October 5, 2002

There are new wires in the house now and they glow? Mom said that they had some sort of breakthrough and are using the samples that they have to coat some of the tech in the house to “ecto-proof” it. Apparently, the ectoplasm doesn’t like electronics so they weren’t really able to mix it with tech too well. Some of Mom’s blueprints look like Star Wars blasters. Dad’s are less impressive.

October 29, 2002

Mom and Dad have locked me and Jazz in our rooms because of the “Ghost Menaces”. Me and Jazz have both taped warning signs on our windows so some brave trick-or-treaters don’t accidentally get hurt.

November 1, 2002

The signs worked but I saw Mom and Dad taking off in the GAV around midnight. Whatever. Me and Tucker did manage to reach a new level in DOOM last night so that was cool. And it’s World Vegan Day today so Sam is going to take us out to eat at a vegan place for dinner. I have no clue what Tucker’s going to eat. Well probably get it to-go so he can get something.

I found out where Mom and Dad went last night. The cops showed up and gave Mom and Dad a ticket for destroying a part of the park's water fixture. Someone had organised a haunted forest thing in the park and my parents went absolute ape.

November 2, 2002

Who told Mom and Dad about Dia de Los Muertos? Or that there was a little remembrance celebration/party thing going on today because of it? I’ve decided to make deviled eggs in protest of their chaos and have also bought candy skulls to eat.

November 18, 2002

Apparently, there is an Occult Day(?) and Sam insists we spend the day researching cults. Tucker has found a tech cult online that says there is “Techno Magic” and he is now trying to learn it. Sam has found a book of curses and has been giggling since she found it. Sam giggling is terrifying. I am concerned.

November 28, 2002

The turkey came to life and attacked us. Mom and Dad are blaming ghosts but me and Jazz agree that this is totally their fault for putting the stupid ecto in the fridge. At least the rest of the food was edible. I mean. It had a kinda glowing but I haven’t gotten sick yet. So yay?

November 29, 2002

So the food wasn’t good and I ended up getting sick this morning. fml Jazz is mad that I ate some of it. I am fully aware of what food safety is Jazz. But I was hungry and after the turkey, I was just tired and hangry. I had no clue you had ordered pizza so :p

December 5, 2002

On the 5th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me! Nothing because my family is insane. Mom and Dad are already starting their yearly Santa argument. Sam and Tuck are both out of town to visit family for the holidays, Jazz is avoiding the house because it’s “disruptive to my mental development” and I’m grounded for yelling at Dad when he burst into my room and accidentally made my little Rover fall off the shelf and brake.

December 9, 2002

Mom and Dad’s insanity is ramping up. They almost never leave the lab now and whenever I try to bring food down to them they either just mumble and keep working or start arguing again. The whole in the wall has a frame now too.

December 24, 2002

I made a mistake when I brought Mom and Dad their dinner today. In my defense, I was just tired of them yelling about Santa. So I asked why they had hazmat suits but me and Jazz didn’t if ecto was so dangerous. Because if it’s that dangerous then the fact we have ecto in the fridge means that we should all have suits. Jazz is furious with me cause now our parents are making us try on our new suits tomorrow. I am terrified of whatever monstrosity they create no matter how “fashionable” Dad claims they will be.

December 25, 2002

It’s worse than I thought. Mine’s white.

January 15, 2003

Gods, I hate this. I’ve been sick for the past week and Jazz says we’re almost out of soup. I keep going back and forth between being hungry and puking up whatever Jazz feeds me. Mom says that she has some tea that may help but when Dad brought it up it tasted funny. It did make me feel a little better but it just had a really weird taste. Dad said it’s just because I’m sick so everything tastes funny right now.

January 19, 2003

Is it weird that I want to lick the ecto in the fridge? I’m pretty sure it is but it still kinda looks lickable to me. Like how you know that D batteries are not edible but almost everyone has licked one at some point?

Jazz just gave me a lecture about putting things in my mouth that I shouldn’t… Again…

January 27, 2003

Jazz scared me this morning. I walked into the kitchen this morning and just saw glowing eyes. Like a cat’s eyes in the dark. Jazz thinks I’m hallucinating from lack of sleep because of the all-nighter I pulled with Tuck trying to pass the next level on DOOM but I swear that her eyes were glowing.

February 9, 2003

I’m starting to worry. I know they're obsessed with their dumb portal but they haven’t eaten in 2 days. Jazz is planning on going down there and persuading (yelling at them) them to eat if they don’t come up for dinner tonight.

February 12, 2003

Happy Birthday to me. I am now 14 years old. Mom and Dad forgot it was my birthday again. They ran into the kitchen this morning because they completed their portal. They even dragged me and Jazz down into the lab to see them turn it on before we went to school. It didn’t work and now Mom and Dad are going to take a drive around town to clear their heads. They probably won’t be back until dinner time. Sam and Tucker are coming over after school though so at least it will be quiet while they are over. And I think Jazz is going to make a cake if the box of mix I saw her trying to hide from me yesterday is any indication. 

[cera-writes]

Nightcrawler with an SO who can split herself into different emotions with each emotion having a different power. Maybe the emotions are running rampant and causing mischief and Kurt is the only person who can wrangle them in.

Emotional Rampage

A/N: this was a cute request! Sorry it took me a while to get it written for you <3

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x reader

Tags: reader-insert, fluff, angst, emotional turmoil, inner demons, pet names, established relationship, endearments

Nightcrawler materialized in a kitchen bathed in the dimly dark sheen of Fear's shadow manipulation. Dishes clattered as Sullen slammed a cabinet door shut. Overhead, Joy buzzed like a rogue wasp, leaving a sonic trail.

This was Tuesday.

"Alright, alright," Kurt held his hands up, teleporting a plate out of Sullen's path. "Let's calm down, everyone. Was ist los?

Fear flickered, casting distorted shadows of Kurt's normally cheerful grin. "Something's wrong, Kurt. I don't like it."

Joy, a blur of pink energy, zipped around the room. "But we don't know what it is! That's the problem!"

Sullen, radiating a low rumble of disapproval, crossed their arms. "We need to find it. Now."

Kurt sighed. "Ich verstehe, but causing a scene won't help. Tell me what's bothering you."

Silence. Fear dimmed, then flickered again. "It's… a feeling. Something dark approaching."

Joy buzzed impatiently. "Exactly! But without knowing what 'it' is, we can't stop it!"

Kurt, ever the mediator, took a deep breath. "Alright. How about this? We work together. Fear, show me what you sense. Joy, scout ahead with your speed. Und Sullen, if we need to throw down, you've got my back, right?"

Hesitation, then a grudging nod from each fragment. Fear pulsed, sending tendrils of shadow that snaked out the window, pointing towards the city's abandoned amusement park. Joy zipped out with a whoosh, leaving a faint pink afterimage. And Sullen, with a grunt, followed Kurt as he bamfed them out of the chaos.

Standing on the creaky Ferris wheel platform, fear tingled on Kurt's skin. Fear's shadows pointed towards a dark, swirling vortex at the center of the park. It pulsed with a malevolent energy.

Joy reported back, a worried frown etched on their normally carefree face. "Kurt, it's like… a negative-me. It feeds on fear."

Suddenly, a shadowy figure materialized, a twisted reflection of Kurt, complete with pointed ears and a barbed tail. "Ah, Nightcrawler. And your precious little emotions. This will be fun."

A fight ensued. Sullen's strength met the dark doppelganger's blows head-on. Joy zipped around, creating sonic disruptions that momentarily weakened the creature. But it was Kurt, teleporting in surprise attacks while Fear channeled courage into him, who finally managed to land a decisive bamf, sending the negative entity back into the vortex.

With the threat neutralized, the fragments drifted back towards you, their forms merging. You sighed, exhaustion clinging to you like a second skin. "Thanks, guys," you whispered, a soft smile gracing your lips.

Kurt pulled you close. "Anytime, Liebchen. Though, maybe next time we could save the demolition for the bad guys?"

A tired giggle escaped you. "Promise." Leaning into his warmth, you watched the city lights twinkle back to life.

Later, curled up on the couch with mugs of hot cocoa, Kurt hesitantly brought up your emotional outburst. "Liebling," he began, his voice laced with concern, "ist alles in Ordnung? These episodes seem to be happening more often."

You snuggled closer, appreciating the gentle way he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. "I don't know, Kurt. It's like… a tangled mess in here sometimes. All these emotions, and I can't always control them."

Kurt squeezed your hand. "But that's what I love about you, Schatz. You wear your heart on your sleeve, in all its beautiful, chaotic glory. And I'll always be here to help you sort through the mess, together."

His words, laced with his endearing native tongue, warmed you more than the cocoa ever could. You realized that even the most complex emotions couldn't dampen the love you shared, a love that thrived on understanding and a whole lot of patience. With a contented sigh, you leaned your head on his shoulder, the tramclings of the evening forgotten. In Kurt's arms, you knew you had a safe haven, a sanctuary where even your most turbulent emotions could find peace.

[selarina]

content warnings: dark content, cannibalism (implied), graphic descriptions of blood and gore, psychological horror in all honesty

minors dni.

Sukuna who manages to win and destroy Jujutsu Society as a whole, but his rampage turns boring — humanity was well on its way to extinction when he realised that he couldn’t live without the puny humans.

The thrill of destruction had started to wane steeply, when he realised he would be alone in a world with no arbitrary morality and judgments. No "good" against his "bad" to put it simply.

So, he put an end to his rampage. He secluded himself in the ancient woods and lurked about, pouncing on any unfortunate prey that stumbled his way. He ate in moderation, with discipline, in order to let the humans breed and rebuild a semblance of a society.

And this way, he evolved. Civilisations rebuilt around him, and he evolved into a myth. A looming presence. The big bad wolf in a long red coat, waiting in the woods.

He liked it this way, as it has been a good few years.

He had Uruame, of course. Loyal as a dog. And the blood keeps flowing. And most importantly, people feared him. People envied him. People felt all sorts of odd things, but he was pleased to know he was the cause of that, and that he will forever be woven into the fabrics of this tattered society.

Some days, he hears the distant echoes of the downfall of Jujutsu Society, their guttural screams as he fought and burnt them to ashes. It all feels so... futile, like an immature action taken by a teenage boy.

He was no longer the rampaging teenager. He had matured in a sense. Found peace in the routine he has. Hunting at night, sleeping in the day.

Then you came.

You stumbled into the woods, with your mud-stained white gown held up in your hands. Your face so frightened, but not frightened by him, it appears. Of something outside the woods.

His gaze falls onto the small scrape on your arm. Bright, vivid red blood, welling up and dripping into the ground, turning the mud a dark, almost a black shade of red.

He stilled, feeling something primal and ancient within him. Hunger. Yes, an ancient hunger he could only recall remnants of.

When had he last feasted on blood so red, so alive? When had he last craved the warmth of a beating heart in his hand? When was the last time he had stood in front of a dame in a wedding gown? He could not remember. His memories hazy.

He could feel the pulse on your form, hear the frantic beating of your heart. Your smell a sweet mingling of sweat and blood.

And in that moment, he knew.

He couldn’t place a name to this feeling, no — but he knew he would do anything to keep feeling this way.

[haztory]

[fairytales: fathoms below]

⤷ john price x f!reader; fairytales!au, mermaid!reader, no warnings!

⤷ summary: a series imagining each of the cod men in fantasy/fairytale settings.

(w.c: 3.2k)

captain john price - the little mermaid 

Deep brown oak lays a steady foundation for the billowing ivory cotton. It is a formidable beast, splitting the current with a wicked ferocity that only further emboldens everything your sisters have said in the privacy of hidden corners and muttered breaths. This monster is a fearsome one, its force unparalleled. Something entirely different than what you have seen before.

Mind your distance, your eldest sister had spoken in between the echoing bellows of your father’s rampage as he raged and roared about the increased presence of the fiend in the seas. It is a frightening being. 

Yet, as you peek above the waves to peer at its high fixtures and its grand weight gliding across the water, you’re less inclined to be scared of the vessel and more curious about who could have made such a thing. Your sister’s words and your father’s fear are quickly things of the past, rendered outdated almost instantaneously beneath its shadow.

What could they know about the intent of such a thing with certainty when they themselves have never been as close as this before? If they had, surely they’d feel the same as you do now.

The ship rocks with a force equal to the volume of the men steering it. They are of varying shapes and sizes, loud as they shout at one another along the choppy water. Words you can only catch on whispering winds, syllables and sounds that are completely foreign as you try to repeat them to yourself. A pulse echoes within you, a ferocious beating of your heart that begs you to get closer, to let the curiosity that surges within you seize its grand moment. If only just to see, just to hear. 

It is one thing to see the ancestors of this magnificent watercraft on the seafloor—to play in its cracked beams and chase your sisters through the wreckage, imagining in secret what an image it would be were it fixed and afloat—but it is something entirely different to see the beast alive. 

To see it be tamed, made nothing more than a tool to be beckoned— by him.

He stands commanding on the helm, the gruffness of his voice carrying on the winds, crossing the distances to you. The men follow his calls, responding in time to his orders and moving with preciseness on the vessel, not entirely unlike your father’s guards. They are seasoned, well learned, and they follow him without question. It is truly a sight to behold, but him, he trumps it all. 

His figure is distinguishable even from afar. You’ve been able to make him out even as you trailed a couple hundred kilometers behind, curiosity consuming all reason as you followed the ship past neighboring reefs and exiting well beyond the boundaries of your father’s kingdom. He’s well cut and corded, muscle visible even if the white of his shirt didn’t stick to his skin—wet from the seawater. 

He’s wide in the shoulders, tall and lean, before it tapers down to a narrow waist; His bottom half is obscured by a dark fabric, which must be the object of your father’s frequent cursing. Legs. You’ve never seen them before, much less two of them. 

Still, his… abnormality hardly detracts from the verboten truth—your eye is caught. It hardly deviates from his powerful stance; Your gaze can wander across the bridge of the ship to the working crew, but it ends up inevitably circling back to him. Drawn into the vortex of him, water rushing, pulling and pushing, and the pang of longing that you have long held quiet finds its strength.

It tastes of wonder and the desperation to escape; To leave behind the home that you know, all that has created you, for the realization that there’s more.

You leave behind the ship before you risk the chance of it seeing you, but the appetite of fascination is hardly appeased. It becomes the bad habit. The ships are wondrous things, but you find out rather quickly that when he is at the helm, that is truly when your heart leaps and you trail even closer to its hull, eager for a sight. 

It goes this way for forty rises and sets, your eyes held on the horizon for the familiar sight of the wooden ship’s sigil and its master. 

Today, he is seen on the day of the great storm. 

The sky sits in a violent gray, lightning spreading its branches as they flare across the clouds. The air smells of the impending storm as the seas grow rougher and with it the ship rocks unsteadily—the waves beating against wood, climbing up its ridges higher each time it strikes against its side, as if it were begging to climb aboard. Despite the mayhem, he stays sharp, pointing direction from the helm and eventually leaving it to the charge of someone else when he decides to help directly. Grabbing rope and throwing it around the masts, clapping others on the back, Keep going, boys! shouting from his mouth.

You see it before they do. A crack that widens in the undercarriage of the ship, beaten open as the waves ram against it, water rushing in. You want to shout, tell them to look, but they realize it soon enough. One of the shipmates peers over the edge of the ship before turning back and shouting,

“She’s goin’ to sink, Captain!”

The Captain—finally a name to the face, one that you roll around in your mind as your eyes track his every movement; Captain, captain, captain.— moves quickly, foregoing the lugging of a rope and saying something that forces all men to divert attention elsewhere. It’s a flurry of movement from there, the men gathering supplies, hauling smaller wooden vessels by rope and filling them in a quick frenzy. Abandoning the ship. 

It’s difficult as wind and rain pellet them, obscuring vision and keeping them unsteady as they attempt to save themselves. The first lifeboat hits the sea viciously, the waves almost capsizing the vessel as they meet its surface. You don’t mean to interfere—you know you shouldn’t— but they’re terrified, and risk drowning, and you’re much more worried about them dying than you are yourself, so you swim to them; Grab the bottom of the boat and pull with as much strength as your arms and tail can muster and haul them away from the immediate danger of the turbulent waves split by the sinking ship. 

The pulley breaks when the next boat tries to descend, hitting the surface unceremoniously, but the men make it to the water.  Two wooden boats buoy a safe distance away from the main ship and the crew sits, thankfully, unharmed as they look towards their Captain, beckoning him to jump. He stands at the edge of the great being, a monolith of a man overseeing the wreckage of his great accomplishment. He must be bidding it goodbye, because he then turns, ready to jump, fortified in that decision as he realizes that all of his men are safe and it is now his turn. 

Wind turns threatening and the air ignites with a charge that speaks of impending doom. It is then that lightning strikes the mast, sparking a loud blast. It singes the wooden pillar, immediately exploding it into a shattering of pieces. The detonation’s impact pushes him off the edge, the Captain’s body hurdling over one-hundred feet. 

Your scream is hidden by the shouts of his own men. His body hits the surface of the water, plunging into the depths as the violent waves hurtle him below. 

There is no hesitation, a choice made without conscious thought. You curl beneath the cresting of a wave and immediately sink into the depth in search for him. It is significantly easier to swim beneath the hurtling waves than atop of them, pressure equalizing against your body. You glide within the water, pushing straightforwardly to the spot where his body met water. 

Your heart pounds in fear. Even if you reach him—no, when you reach him— there is no guarantee of his survival. There must be some kind of injury from falling that kind of distance, or so you would imagine. Being sucked into vortexes does all kinds of damage to merfolk, it must be of equal balance for humans. And even if by some miracle he does survive impact, humans cannot breathe under the water like you can. He must have swallowed some water, is that dangerous for him? How much can he swallow? What do you do if he has swallowed too much?

Thoughts hurtle and tumble in fast succession, but your body moves faster. Crossing the distance between your position next to the lifeboats to the spot of impact at a speed that has never before been demanded of you. Your lungs burning, your mind aching, your heart hurting with worry for a man that you do not yet know. A man that, for all you have been told, could kill you. A man whose kind has hunted yours down for sport, strung your people up for decoration. 

You should not care for this man, have been warned not to, and yet the relief you feel when you find him are the blessings from the forces of the heavens and earth. 

He’s sinking, unconsciously. His eyes closed, body suspended to the whims of the tides as they pull him down. Nearing him reveals that he is much larger than you had anticipated but it means nothing in the rapid pump of adrenaline. Hooking your arms underneath his, his back to your chest, you haul with great might. Lugging his weight with a grunt to the surface, just to get him to breathe again. 

Breaching the surface exposes you to the pellets of the ferocious rain, but it matters not. Your eyes set for direction, your head turning frantically in search of a marker, a sight, something to reveal where you are— where you can take him for safety. The lifeboats have been taken far away by the tumbling tides and the ship that was once so marvelous now roars with a fire aboard its surface. 

You have no idea where to go. You have no idea what to do. 

But the Captain is held tightly in your arms, his head rolling lifelessly on your shoulder. A quick placement of your fingers on his neck reveals a pulsing heart and while it hardly solves any of your problems, it’s all you need to do as you have always done and swim. Somewhere, anywhere. 

So, you do. 

South, in search of sanctuary.

It comes faster than you had thought it would. The shallowing of waters after an hour long haul of both he and you bleeds a hope in your soul that pushed you forward until it came into sight. A cove. Away from the large strip of land that surrounds it, remote enough to deposit him without being seen, but close enough to civilization for him to find a way home. Wherever home may be for him.

Your body is exhausted, the muscles in your tail cramping and spasming from the sheer burden of his weight on yours but you don’t stop. Even as you can touch sand with your hands, even as the movement of waves can carry you the distance to the shore— you don’t stop until he is safe. On land. 

Hauling him out of the water and onto the flattening surface of the beach is surely the worst part. Dragging him a safe distance from the water that was able to ease the pressure of his full weight on you to now being on the surface where his body seems to weigh even more, your arms trembling from trying to pull him further up on the coast, is misery. But you do it, with some herculean effort that has never been introduced to you before. 

He lays on land, supine on his back, finally safe. The rain has stopped, the sky turning from the harsh gray of before to a smattering of thickened clouds that finally allow the sun to bleed through. 

You fall beside him in exhaustion. Ragged breaths heaving your chest, your tail grateful for the much needed rest. The swim home will be significantly easier (and faster) without the man in your arms, but such a trek is daunting when physical debility renders you useless. 

But you must go, before he sees you. You have done what you needed to, you have brought him to land, and while you don’t know how to save him, or if you need to, you know his heart still beats. And that is enough to make a job well done. Rather, it should be enough to grant you dismissal.

And yet, you linger. Unable to part, waiting. Watching. You shouldn’t, and still you cannot help yourself. 

You sit up and lean over him, curious to spare him another look. 

Laid beneath you, the truth repeats like a broken mantra in your head. It is a sin of the highest offense to touch him. Being near him like this is a crime itself. But, there is an ache in your fingers that urges you forward and the desire to know eats away at you, until you blink and suddenly, your fingers are tracing the length of his strong nose.

A straight bridge, freckled with color. Your fingers move in a fixed trance, trailing across the soft of his cheek until it reaches the jagged meeting line where skin becomes obscured with hair. You feel the coarseness of his beard, trace the pads of your fingertips down the thick and long hairs. The men at home have hair on their faces, your own father does, but it doesn’t feel like this. So coarse, so rough, prickling against the tips of your fingers. Not made silk by the submergence in water, but thick and apparent. 

You don’t dislike it. At least, you don’t think you do, your fingers smoothing down the expanse of his cheek. Up and down, over and over. Feeling the vitality of this human life.  

You don’t feel the same repulsion that your father does whenever mention of the humans is made near him, nor do you feel the same fear that your sisters have at the mere thought of them. You’re drawn closer, if anything. Curious to know more. 

Wondering what would happen if he opened his eyes.

He has a nose, two ears, and a gentle prodding of his lips reveals a full set of teeth. They’re not sharpened in fangs ready to rip your throat (a rumor circulating through the schools of children) nor are they laid in multiple jagged rows (a preach hailed truth by your father). Instead, just a set of hard bones, the same as yours. He has two eyes that you don’t dare try and see the color of, and a full head of thick brown hair.

For all intents and purposes, he looks like you. The same features, the same design.

Your fingers trail downward, below the thick of his beard and down the column of his strong neck. His shirt is soaked and stuck to his skin, stretched to reveal even more tufts of thick hair on his chest. That is new to you. The men at home don’t have hair on their chest much less a kind so thick. They’re smooth, and if you thread your fingers through it in wonder, it will be a secret you take back to the sea with you.

Maybe the gods made you more similar than different. From where you sit beside him, the only obvious difference lies below. Two long limbs that hold flat appendages at the end. Feet, separated with what you can only imagine are toes. Ten of them on each one. 

Maybe in his creation there was an image of you. A curiosity that was sated by the division of a tail into legs, but otherwise remains the same. Two beings sent to their respective homes and yet destined to intertwine. It must be, otherwise these unexplainable feelings that brew within you have no source other than sheer madness. 

A kind of madness that finds you sitting beside him, staring in lingering awe at the marvels of danger.

You don’t know how long you stay there for, trailing your fingers over him. Finding them studying the feel of his skin and somehow always returning back to his neck, feeling the pulsing of his heart as reassurance. But, a long look to the horizon reveals that the sun is beginning to set and you know then that much time has passed. The sky turns to a burnt orange and the warning to return home beats within your mind. It is unwanted, but you know that you can no longer stay here with the man. Soon your father will suspect something amiss and send guards to find you. While you don’t doubt the capabilities of the human, there’s no guarantee he will be able to defend himself against the royal guards of the palace, especially in his weakened state. (There is no telling what he could do to you if he awakens in this state.)  

So you will leave him with the hope that he will wake soon, that he will recuperate enough to pull himself from the sand and walk the short distance back to the mainland. That your efforts were timely and he is able to make his way home. 

You will leave him and hope that maybe, he will come back to the cove in search of you. You will leave him and hope that maybe he will see you waiting for him in the water.

With a sigh, you turn your head back to his face. To look at him once more before you go.

Eyes as blue as the sea you pulled him from, meet yours. You gasp, jolting backwards in shock and he—the Captain, alive and awake— blinks slowly.

“You’re real.” He croaks, his voice hoarse. It still holds the same gruffness that you heard on the ship, the commandeering tone and hefty weight, but in the closeness it is twinged with gentleness. No longer addressing men at his command, but you. A softness mirrored in tone and gaze as he, for the first time, sees you. 

His hand reaches up and you hold still in fear. The conditioning of your father’s paranoia rears its head; Is this where his strength is exhibited? In the calloused palm of his that is larger

than your own? Is this where he decides to lay waste to you in a manner your father is so convinced that humans possess? 

Instead, his hand raises to your face, fingertips slowly brushing a fallen strand of your hair and tucking it behind your ear. His touch is light on your skin, brushing against the curve of your ear before trailing downward and across your cheek. Warm and soft, he stares a seriousness into you as though the only thing he intends to do in that moment is commit you to memory. 

You fall into his touch with little convincing. His skin melding to your own, as though it were meant to be there. 

“I thought you a dream.” 

You shake your head slightly. His eyes dart across your face before moving downward. Surveying you before spotting the obvious truth.

“Mermaid.” He chokes out, in reverence. His stare does not falter and his face does not scrunch upward in disgust. He looks at you much like you have always looked at him. 

Adoration disguised in the innocence of curiosity. 

“You saved me,” He says. “Thank you.”

a.n: i blame my visit to disney world for this idea. the thoughts of john price soaking wet is irresistible, and i aint sorry for it!!

simon is next :)