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jsooly · 4 months ago

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death in the family (6) / sully family x human!daughter/sister!reader

synopsis, you finally get to the bottom of what eywa was trying to show you. she didn't tell you it'd try to kill you.

!! LINKS ARE INCLUDED FOR REFERENCE! i used these to help visualize so i wanted to include them to help you guys too <3

this is a loooooooong chapter enjoy !

(1) / . . . / (10) / (11*) / (12*- ur here! ☆)

+ chapters with an * beside it means that it’s following atwow plot line as opposed to disconnected scenarios

when did you move from your bed?

the ground cradled you. your figure imprinted into the pillowy dirt and the blades of grass brushed delicately along your cheek, like the great mother's herself was beside you peppering butterfly kisses on your skin. it figured that she was the only one able to lull your restless soul into slumber.

blinking awake, you felt abnormally light. like gravity had been lowered significantly. like the weight of the world had been lifted from your shoulders. no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't muster any worry for the state of your family or the dangers that threatened them.

you smiled, squinting as the sun peeked through the holes in the canopy. this is nice. you breathed the fresh air deeply, your lungs expanding slowly. this is nice.

then you focused on the tree before you. the tree of souls, standing proud in all its glory, was calling to you. whispers unheard yet drawing you in all the same.

you cocked your head to the side, thinking this has never happened before. you've visited the tree of souls on more than one occasion, and every time it stood listless.

you pushed yourself off the ground and walked closer.

with each step, the atmosphere grew darker. the only thing constant was the thrumming neon blue and lavender lighting of the tree's long weeping leaves. you stumbled onto the hill it was rooted in, falling through the curtains of neural links and—

listen.

you squinted towards the apex of the tree, overwhelmed by the glittering lighting beating its way through your pupils. huh? the voice you heard was warped, indescribable in terms of tone or pitch, neither coming from your right or left, it was just... there.

follow me and listen.

when did it become nighttime? your bones were growing heavy. a low groan tapered its way off your lips, your head teetering on the edge of dizziness once again. you curled into yourself as the whispers intensified into a crowd's roar—

your eyes flew open. you didn't dare to move. seeds of eywa covered your body, surrounding you in a halo of cool lighting. you could feel their presence along the fat of your thigh, back, stomach... they were everywhere. the one beside your cheek caressed you with its tentacles.

your body felt tired. you remained completely still, trying to hold on to the bliss you felt moments ago in your vision. but here the walls were painted grey and your mattress was stiff.

your eyes darted back to the closest woodsprite, the message echoing in your mind. follow me.

"what are you trying to tell me?" you mumbled, your voice still thick with sleep. "to follow you?"

its movement was almost imperceptible.

"fine." you closed your eyes one last time.

at your confirmation, the sprites lifted into the air, floating out the window. one remained, patiently waiting for you to complete your morning routine and grab your tools. you climbed out the window behind it.

the grass was frigid under the soles of your feet as you strolled behind the sprite. your head was still pounding uncomfortably from your psychedelic vision.

you wandered along a familiar route towards the tree of souls. it was sunken into a crater of its own, the bedrock around it hollowing out to give it space to grow. some sprites fluttered past you, descending to take their place back at the epicenter of the great mother's presence.

"okay, here we are." you said, your tone exasperated. the sprite stood still, like an NPC character stuck at the end of its script. without any further instructions, you elected to climb down the cliff towards the tree.

you landed gracefully on the rocky terrain, despite the morning dew making it a bit slippery. the sprite was following you now, it seemed, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

how do you communicate with something you can't connect with? this question has been part of your life since forever and has extended past just the people. forget the language, there was an unspoken energy around you that you weren't built to harness.

though this situation was making you reconsider that fact.

"you brought me here." you hummed, extending your arm to let the bright rods brush over it. "what do you want to show me?"

you weren't completely serious as you spoke into the crisp morning air. if your thoughts were out there, maybe something other than silence would respond to you.

you stood there expectantly for a few minutes. if you didn't get any answers for eywa's confusing persistence, at least you could soothe yourself before you attempted to switch spider's mask.

you sighed, giving your ethereal companion a sheepish look. "i'm sorry, i just don't understand."

you stepped past it, your mind already plotting how far you were from spider's location.

then a cool wind passed over you. your eyes fell to the ground, watching a large shadow zip along.

weird.

you crouched low to the ground, scurrying to the cliff wall and pressing your back tightly to the surface. when you finally looked up, you felt the blood drain from your face.

ikran don't often hang around rocky terrain, not this low to the ground anyway, much less slotsyal. stormgliders.

your eyes snapped to eywa's sprites. they were all buzzing with life, zipping through the air more excitedly than usual. your companion floated under your hand, lifting it up and up and up until you were pointing at the apex predator.

"are you crazy?" you whispered urgently, pulling your hand back and looking at it incredulously. "no, no. i am turning the other way, thank you." you muttered, turning towards the wall and feeling for a good ledge to start your climb.

the sprite brushed along your face, making you splutter and step back out of the shade of the cliff wall. others surrounded you, drifting off and illuminating a path towards the animal.

you glared at all of them. "this is what you want from me? what am i gonna do, make friends with it?"

they floated there, steadfast in their instructions.

you gave it a look. "i will die if i get close. eaten! that's your big plan for me, great mother? really?"

you knew it was her doing. stormgliders never hunt this low to the ground, and they are never around the forest. similar to toruk, they cruise at super high altitudes and only ever descend when they're hungry.

this guy was descending, and you hated to think you were the food.

but if this was eywa's plan, you were a fool to turn away.

you gripped your bow, stringing it expertly as you gave one last glance at the sprites. "i'm listening as you've asked of me." you grumbled stubbornly, like a child complaining to their parent. "but if i die, that's on you."

"are you some kind of... freak?" aonung smirked down at kiri, his entourage chuckling behind him.

"he asked if you are a freak." one echoed.

"...no." kiri answered dismissively, walking away. they followed behind her, circling her like vultures.

"are you sure? you're not even real na'vi. look at these hands." aonung continued, swiping at her wrist to prove his point. she pulled back, her eyes narrowed. "i mean, look at them!" he laughed, grabbing her hands and turning them over, as if inspecting something grotesque.

kiri yanked her hands away, her glare sharp as her heart pounded with anger. the sounds of aonung's friends' laughter erupting behind her.

"hey!" lo'ak sauntered up, his expression hardened. he was already pissed off. "back off, fish lips."

"oh, another four fingered freak." aonung teased, a low laugh following as his friends began to pull on lo'ak's tail.

"leave us alone!" kiri pleaded, her voice laced with frustration.

she didn't have to say anything further—neteyam stormed into the scene, grabbing aonung's shoulder and ripping him away from his little brother.

"you heard what she said." neteyam threatened, his voice menacingly calm for the irritation he was feeling inside. "leave them alone."

"ah, big brother comin—"

aonung slapped the back of his hand to his friend, shutting him up without breaking eye contact with neteyam. his mind calculated the risks of stepping toe-to-toe with the foreigner, scanning for weakness.

"no, you're wrong," aonung corrected his friend with a smug look. "he is no big brother. he is the little brother to a demon. a human they've left behind because they are ashamed."

lo'ak lurched forward with an angry growl.

"lo'ak." neteyam snapped and the boy froze, pacing behind the older sully.

"you're gonna let them talk about her like that?"

"aww," aonung cooed, condescension dripping from his tongue. "they say birds flock together. i see the same idea extends to half-blooded demon freaks such as yourself."

neteyam gave lo'ak one more warning look before returning his attention to the metkayina kids. "my family is of no concern to you."

"yes, they are." aonung shot back. "we don't want your contamination. i would respect you, sully, if you didn't bow your head to the human you call your elder sibling."

neteyam exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. aonung had no idea who he was insulting.

"you speak as if you know her. as if you understand what she is." his voice, when it finally came, was low and precise.

he took a slow step forward. "this demon you speak of is our sister, out protector. she bled for us before she had even grew into her own strength. that alone makes her more of a man than you are." his golden eyes burned with something lethal. "we all know she isn't made for this world. that doesn't mean the planet itself hasn't accepted her as she is. she belongs here just like we do."

it made aonung hesitate for a second.

"you would not be standing if she was here. she would've knocked you into the sand without hesitation." neteyam continued, his fists tightening. " but she is not here. i am. and if you bother my family again, i won't think twice about following her example."

aonung paused. then, he raised his hands, that stupid smirk on his lips as he stepped back in surrender.

"smart choice." neteyam hummed, satisfied as he leaned back. "and from now on, i need you to respect my sister." he jabbed a finger in kiri's direction.

one of aonung's friends hissed. kiri responded by sticking out her tongue.

"let's go." neteyam ordered, patting lo'ak's head as he stormed past him.

"bye bye!" one friend sang mockingly, laughing as they turned away.

lo'ak's eyes rolled as he slowed to a stop.

"lo'ak." neteyam warned.

"i got this." lo'ak sweetly reassured him as he walked back to the group. he smiled as he approached them. "i know this hand is funny. but it can do something really cool. watch."

aonung made the mistake of humoring him.

at this point, your brain was tired screaming DANGER! the warning bells were going off, and you weren't listening.

the wind underneath the stormglider's wings rustled the leaves and vines of the trees below it. you were currently running for your life.

i knew this was a bad idea i knew this was a bad idea

you squeezed your eyes shut, yelling out in exertion. running in a near constant sprint for almost half an hour straight was not on your agenda today. your arms pumped at your sides, carrying you farther with every step.

the only logical conclusion to eywa's... gift was that you needed to bond with the stormglider. or escape it? but then why would she bring you and light the path towards it?

you were hesitant to accept the message she was clearly sending your way. how? you wanted to yell. how am i going to bond with this gigantic creature?

though juvenile, this slotsyal was much larger than a fully mature ikran. their wingspan was massive, and their barbed tail swinging behind them was the nail in the coffin.

the stormglider thrashed its great wings, carrying it higher and higher in the air.

your heart dropped. that only meant it was rearing to dive down and strike. its venomous tail was too much for the armored fauna of pandora to handle. one touch and you were a goner.

exactly as you predicted, you heard the piercing whistle as the stormglider dived.

holy shit. your mind was in overdrive. every thought occupied your attention for less than a second. a primal need to survive filled your veins and in the next moment you were moving on autopilot—

a screech echoed along the tree trunks as if broke through the canopy. you gripped the weighted lasso tighter, racing out of its line of sight. you scrambled up a tree, leaping down onto its head and slinging the lasso around its beak.

it landed on the ground, tumbling onto its side, wailing as it clumsily flailed its wings to regain balance.

that was the good thing about large animals. the bigger they were, the harder they fell. their size didn't leave much room for agility. get the jump on them and you're already halfway there.

you laughed to yourself as it struggled against your hold. "that's right," you grinned, peering into its eyes. it's pupils dilated upon seeing you. "you're mine."

in a burst of energy, it raised its head, catapulting you into the air. you grunted, gripping onto the lasso that was still binding its beak.

oh great mother, this better be what you intended.

it shot back into the air and it was a miracle you were able to hold on. the vertical ascent allowed you to flatten onto its head. you wrapped your legs around it's neck and clung to the long fin in the middle of its skull.

there was nothing much you could do but hold on your life until it burned out again.

it warbled in pain and you perked up. hurt?

now that it wasn't actively trying to kill you, you noticed that it lacked a neural queue. you knew stormgliders were solo agents, but almost all big animals had a queue. was this one defective? perhaps a mutation down the line?

in an instant, it dropped from the sky, crashing onto the top of a mountain. you were thrown off its head, bouncing on the hard ground with an oof as you teetered off the cliff's edge.

a white hot flash of panic flashed through your body as you clung to the lasso. you pulled yourself up, but you were surprised when the stormglider started to tug you back to safety as well.

you panted heavily, the spike of activity finally registering in your body. you winced. it was painful to stand up.

you stumbled over to the fallen stormglider. it was restless, whining as it slumped over on its side.

"you just had to make it hard for me, huh." you groaned, huffing as you assessed its state. "i guess great mother threw us both for a loop."

as the nausea died down, your vision cleared and you saw it. a clean cut through a portion of its underbelly.

you pursed your lips, already rifling through your kit for supplies to mend it. you walked back to its head, stroking your hand down its side and staring into its blue eyes.

"if i take this off, promise you won't try to eat me?" you proposed. it blinked. you sighed wondering if you were unwrapping your killer or new companion.

you got to work on patching him up. a light drizzle rained down on top of you, but it was a welcome sensation after the heat of the moment.

opposed to the tough top exterior of the slotsyal, its belly was soft and easily patched up by your tools. after plastering some gauze over the wound, you gently pat its ribs before returning to its head.

"truce?" you sighed and sat crisscross beside him.

his beady eyes locked onto you before he nudged your thigh with its snout. you accommodated him, petting the curve of its head gently.

truce.

the pieces were falling into place. since you moved to high camp, you realized how important ikran were in forest na'vi culture. only together can they reach the heights the terrain has to offer. you couldn't visit your family via the helicopters, and now you had your own mount to get there.

you've got to hand it to eywa. she may be mysterious in her ways but she does hear her children's cries and dries their tears.

the light rain subsided as the sun poked out through the clouds.

"huh." you hummed as a rainbow bent its way through the sky. "katir." (rainbow.)

lo'ak fucked around and unfortunately, found out.

if it wasn't clear that the metkayina kids were praying on his downfall, it was now.

joke's on them, he thought bitterly. cuz i've got a new friend.

he was having the best time with payakan—the best few hours of his life since moving to awa'atlu.

his laughter echoed across the open waters, tapering off when he saw a large shadow pass over him.

he looked up, covering his eyes with his hands as he tried to make out what was circling above them.

mom? he thought in a panic. oh shit.

then he saw the glint of a tail. he stood there dumbly. wait, ikran don't have pointed tails, do they..?

"lo'ak?!" you screamed above the wind.

"y/n?" his eyes widened.

"katir, no!" you pulled on the your new stormglider friends' ears wrapped around your entire arm, similar to the reins of a horse. "not food!"

with a screech, katir's wings extended. the sharp drop was reduced to a clumsy glide down, the gusts of wind knocking lo'ak off his feet. katir swerved, turning around and landing on a nearby rock. he churred as he shook his wings of the saltwater, bending his head to let you drop onto the ground.

"y/n!" lo'ak's grin was so wide it hurt his cheeks but he couldn't stop. he slid onto payakan's front fin, signing please, over there!

he arrived as you were chewing katir out.

"if this is gonna work, we've gotta set some ground rules." you scolded him. he huffed and turning his head away from you. "hey, i'm talking to you."

"y/n!" lo'ak screamed in delight, jumping onto the rock and promptly slipping. "wha—what are you doing here?! how are you here?"

you grabbed his wrist and pulled him back to safety. you didn't stop there and pulled him into your arms. he hugged you back readily.

"this is katir," you grinned, walking over to your new friend and patting his head.

lo'ak blinked in disbelief. "i—how?"

"divine intervention." you shrugged. "i don't exactly know either. i had a vision, and eywa's seeds lured me to the area where this guy was lurking around. long story short, we tried to kill each other then reached an understanding."

"bonded?"

you shook your head. "no. he doesn't have a neural queue."

"just like you." lo'ak scrunched his face. "weird."

you hadn't thought of it that way.

"anyway," he shook his head, his beaming smile returning. "this is so crazy! i can't believe you're really here! wait until i tell—"

"wait." you gripped his arms. "you can't tell anyone else. not yet, anyway. i don't fully understand the implications of showing up here."

"what does it matter?" lo'ak scoffed. "we're fine. dad said you could join us anyways."

"when you're settled."

"we are!"

"are you?" you narrowed your eyes. "why are you out here alone?"

lo'ak's jaw snapped shut, his eyes drifting to the side. a look that told you all that you need to know.

"do you wanna talk about it?" you smiled kindly, sitting on the wet rock. he sighed and dropped down beside you.

"they were... being jerks. making fun of kiri and you."

you blinked. "is kiri okay?"

"yeah, she's fine."

"how do they even know about me? i thought dad would keep that under wraps."

lo'ak rolled his eyes, grumbling. "tuk and her big mouth."

you laughed softly. you missed this. you missed complaining about each other. "i assume you got into a fight?"

he nodded.

you smiled and ruffled his head with a smile. "still looking out for me oceans away, huh? thank you, lo'ak."

he got bashful, dropping his head and letting his free strand of hair poorly cover his face. "it's whatever. neteyam jumped 'em too."

you chuckled softly. "you won, no doubt."

"yeah."

"proud of you." you praised him. in the next second, your comm buzzed.

"y/n, they're moving."

lo'ak's ears popped up. "was that—"

"spider? yeah." you pressed your fingers to your choker. "copy." you responded, rising to your feet.

lo'ak's mind was struggling to keep up with all the new information. he was still shocked that you were really standing in front of him. "y/n, what have you been up to?!"

you smiled and pat his shoulder. "keeping kiri's promise. hopefully. and some sabotage."

katir blew a puff of air directly onto your head. you huffed and brushed your hair back into place. "yeah, yeah, i'm coming."

lo'ak stared at you in awe. in the month and a half they've been gone, you've already ascended to another level. or maybe you were always on this level, and only without the watchful umbrella of your father were you able to realize it.

"you can tell the other kids, not mom and dad." you called to him as you jumped onto katir. "make sure tuk doesn't blab, okay?"

"you got it." lo'ak mumbled. "you're... are you gonna come back?" he asked timidly, out of character for a confident guy like himself.

you gave him a tight lipped smile. "yeah."

his grin was the last thing you saw before you yipped, urging katir into the air. with a boom, he lifted off, unfurling his great wings and zooming back to the forest.

you stationed katir at a safe distance away from high camp. as a natural predator of ikran and na'vi, you didn't want to risk any mishaps.

before you went to spider, you needed to replenish your stockpile. naturally, the research base you were staying in didn't carry things like arrows and knives. everyone didn't think twice when they saw you rifling around. you were a familiar face, after all.

"y/n."

you squeaked as you whirled around, not expecting anyone to approach you, much less speak to you.

tarsem's eyebrows raised at your reaction, tilting his head as his features settled into an unreadable expression. his lips curled slightly as though amused by your surprised.

"hey." you quickly recovered.

"you are uneasy." he said, gaze sweeping over your fresh bruises and scars from the scuffle with katir earlier. his eyes were tender as they lingered on your injuries, concern threading through his words. "that is unlike you."

"first time for everything." you smiled politely, pocketing more arrowheads.

tarsem's lips twitched into a smile. "i do not remember you showing your discomfort so openly." he observed, curiosity in his tone.

"are you always so attentive with your people?" you hummed, your focus back to the trunk of treasures you were fishing through.

tarsem remained quiet studying you for a moment before he spoke again. "scouts spotted a rouge slotsyal above the plains this morning." he informed you. "be careful when you're out there."

"i wouldn't worry about that," you mumbled without thinking, stilling indistinctly before continuing your search.

"hm?"

"nothing. thanks for letting me know."

he nodded curtly, smile returning as he strolled past you. "you should visit more often." he suggested softly.

you eyed him, caught off guard by the shift in tone. "maybe." you answered truthfully.

your confusion of the interaction was overshadowed by the time crunch. you could review tarsem's conversation later. right now, you had a plan to bring to fruition.

you only prayed the great mother will look out for you in this, too.

. . .

thanks for reading! <3

taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @dae-dreamer @delirious-dolce @strawbaerriesvt @avatar-lover @ryiana @lxon-kxnnedy @zukki33 @chalahyung01 @ssc7514 @shmaptainbonky @aureolinb @whosbibi2000 @childishname @nen-nyy @moonchildxoxx @hdjfvnd

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zeroseuniverse · 3 months ago

Note

ahhh that zb1 ask of the idol crush looking damn good and walking past their table at awards was scrumdillyumptious! perchance, could the same prompt be applied to skz?

Stray Kids When Their Idol Crush Looks Too Good Walking Past Their Table at an Award Show

Taglist: @sh0dor1 @zaycie @tinyelfperson @ltfircracker @lezleeferguson-120 @emilywjinnie @torkorpse

Bang Chan

Chan is deep in conversation with the members, but the second you step into his line of vision, he completely loses his train of thought. His mouth parts slightly as he watches you glide past their table, looking effortlessly stunning under the stage lights. He blinks rapidly, trying to compose himself, but Felix nudges him with a knowing smirk. "Hyung, you good?" "Yeah," he clears his throat, sitting up straighter. "I just—wow." Seungmin snorts. "Real smooth." Chan can only chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck, but his eyes keep flickering back to you when he thinks no one is watching.

Lee Know

Minho is casually sipping his drink, effortlessly cool as always—until he sees you. His grip on the cup tightens slightly, and his eyes subtly follow your every movement as you pass by. Felix catches him staring and wiggles his eyebrows. "Hyung, you’re looking a little too focused." Minho scoffs, rolling his shoulders back. "I’m just appreciating good visuals." "Uh-huh," Hyunjin teases. "Then why do you look like you just forgot how to blink?" Minho clicks his tongue and looks away with a smirk, but the slight pink in his ears betrays him.

Changbin

Changbin is laughing at something Han said when he notices you approaching. The laughter dies in his throat, and suddenly, he’s hyper-aware of everything—his posture, his expression, even his breathing. "Earth to Binnie," Han waves a hand in front of his face. Changbin doesn’t respond. His brain is buffering as he watches you pass, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. He tries to play it cool, but when you throw a polite smile in their direction, his ears burn red. Hyunjin snickers. "That was painful to watch." Changbin glares. "Shut up."

Hyunjin

Hyunjin was already feeling himself that night—perfect hair, perfect outfit, the whole deal. But the moment you walk by, it’s like his world stops. His lips part, and he sits up straighter, subtly adjusting his jacket as if that’ll somehow make him look more composed. When you glance their way, he meets your eyes for a split second, and suddenly, he’s self-aware in a way he never is. He swears his heart skips a beat. Felix leans over, whispering, "Hyung, you’re literally blushing." "Shut up," Hyunjin hisses, clearing his throat and forcing himself to look away. But inside? Absolute meltdown.

Han

Han is in the middle of snacking when he notices you. Unfortunately, he wasn’t prepared for the way you looked that good. Cue him choking on his food. Seungmin smacks his back, sighing. "Really? This is how you go out?" Han coughs, eyes watering slightly. "I—whew—I wasn’t ready, man." You don’t seem to notice the chaos, just continuing past their table like some ethereal being. Chan shakes his head, laughing. "You’re never gonna survive if they actually talk to you, huh?" Han groans. "Don’t remind me."

Felix

Felix was already enjoying the night, but seeing you? That’s a game-changer. His usual sunshine demeanor turns into something softer, almost dazed, as he watches you walk by. "Whoa," he breathes, eyes locked on you. Hyunjin catches his expression and grins. "Dude, you look like you just fell in love." Felix chuckles, rubbing his arm sheepishly. "Can you blame me?" When you turn slightly and send a small nod of acknowledgment their way, Felix practically melts. His hands go to his face immediately, and he just beams. "Okay, yeah," he sighs. "I’m doomed."

Seungmin

Seungmin is usually the most composed, but even he isn’t immune. He watches you walk by with an unreadable expression, his fingers tapping lightly against the table. The only sign of his inner turmoil? The way he subtly swallows and shifts in his seat. Jeongin grins. "Hyung, your ears are turning red." Seungmin scoffs. "That’s just the lighting." "Uh-huh," Han smirks. "And the way you keep staring?" Seungmin huffs, looking away. "I was just analyzing their stage presence." But the way his gaze flickers back to you immediately after? Yeah, he’s caught.

I.N

Jeongin thinks he’s prepared for anything—until you casually strut past like you own the place. His confidence takes an instant hit. He stiffens in his seat, suddenly questioning everything. Should he adjust his tie? Fix his hair? Why does his hand feel awkward just sitting there?? Felix catches him panicking and grins. "You okay, maknae?" Jeongin lets out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yep. Totally fine. Just—uh—breathing." When you glance his way and offer a slight smile, he freezes completely. It takes Seungmin flicking his forehead to snap him out of it. "Yeah," Jeongin mutters under his breath. "Doomed."

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chaconnehoonie · 1 year ago

Text

Wet- L.HS

☼ Lee Heeseung x Fem Reader

Synopsis- As temperatures rise, so does Heeseung’s dick.

WC: 4k+

Warnings: smut, one(1) food play-ish scene, water gun fight, cursing, nothing too extreme it’s just pwp

Smut warnings: Verbal and physical teasing, kissing, oral(f), unprotected sex, creampies, voyeurism and they (kinda) get caught, pool/outdoor sex

This is fiction and the scenarios are completely fake and from my brain, none of the characters are accurate in real life, MDNI!

A/N: This was originally supposed to be written for Sunghoon but I can’t get over that picture of Heeseung so I changed my mind. Enjoy!

You’re so hot

The summer sun warms the exposed areas of skin, but your water soaked shirt keeps you cool in the one hundred degree weather. God damn the sun and its harsh rays—cursing the land with heat waves and rising temperatures that force you and your friends to find ways to cool off.

Heeseung can’t help but stare.

Even as he feels a stream of water hit the back of his head, he can’t keep his eyes off of you. Especially when Jake takes aim and pulls the trigger of his water gun to shoot straight at the center of your chest. God bless the sun.

“Alright, pervert! You got me.” You run a hand through your wet hair, laughing to yourself as you make your way towards your friends and knock water guns with Sunoo as a small celebration.

Jake shoots you one last time, whining about how unfair you play. “Seriously, how did you even get back there? I swear I checked thrice! I want to switch teams!” You poke the muscle of bicep that’s outlined by his own soaking wet shirt, teasing him for his terrible skills at his own game.

“Maybe you should’ve checked better.” With a click of your tongue you prance towards the pool, placing a palm upon the hot pavement to determine the heat. Heeseung watches as you stand up and pull your shirt off of yourself, back arching and neck rolling back as you peel the sticking fabric off of your body to reveal your bikini.

He admires the way you swiftly throw your shirt to the side, grabbing your beach towel and placing it next to the pool to sit on. Plopping yourself onto it, you dip your freshly painted toes into the water and splash them around.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Jay startles Heeseung from his trance, snapping his head to see the younger is now the only person standing next to him, a quirked eyebrow following his question. “I can’t.”

Heeseung replies simply, turning back just in time to notice Sunghoon handing you a small ice cream cone. He’s unable to focus for long as his attention is caught by Sunoo loudly laughing from the pool, where Jake is swimming around with an open mouth, begging Sunghoon to at least attempt to throw his own cone into his mouth from where he stands next to you.

“I don’t think Sunghoon would like that.” Heeseung sighs, shaking his head and deciding his own fate is to watch you from afar. To admire you from a distance.

But Jay wouldn’t let that happen. He doesn’t call himself “Heeseung’s number one wing man” for no reason, which is why he encourages his friend to go after you. Even if Sunghoon seems to be the only guy in your field of vision.

Of course, you’re just friends. At least that’s what you both claim. Heeseung doesn’t believe it though, in fact, he believes you two have been keeping it on the low. He’s created a whole fantasy relationship between his two friends— a fantasy that he isn’t a part of.

“Your first problem is not Sunghoon.” Jay brings up the topic once they’ve made their way into the cool house, alone. “The problem is you thinking there’s something going on between them.” Heeseung scoffs, taking a beer from Jay then turning his head to look at you through the window.

Your ice cream cone is melting in the hot sun, creamy liquid running through your fingers and down your forearm and Heeseung shivers. He’s always known he has a strong imagination, but with the visual stimulation right there; the suggestively colored desert leaving trails of itself down your arm, he can only imagine how his is own cream would adorn your body.

“Are you even listening?” Jay smacks his friend’s head, snapping him out of his scandalous fantasy. “You need to make a move. And I promise you Sunghoon won’t care. Sure, he’s a little protective but he’s your best friend too—he knows what’s best for both of you.”

Heeseung only pays attention to the first half of Jay’s rant, falling back into a trance as you finally lick a long stripe up your forearm, swapping your ice cream cone to the other hand to suck on your messy fingers. He only looks away when Sunghoon grabs your wrist and forces your fingers further down your throat and you gag for a second, then bring your ice cream and spit covered hand to the back of Sunghoon’s head, pushing him into the pool with Jake and Sunoo.

“You’re so right.” Heeseung’s voice is barely audible to Jay. “What-”before Jay can even question him, the older is patting him on the back and muttering a quick thanks you’re the best and rushing outside. Jay stands there for a second, sighs, then quickly entertains himself with an unopened bottle of vodka. He’ll pay Sunghoon back later.

You move your attention from the pool to the house just in time to see Heeseung sitting down next to you. You note that he looks nervous, maybe even shy, but you don’t say anything to humiliate him. Yet.

“Hi, Hee. What’s up?” You chirp out before bringing what’s left of your ice cream to your lips, licking a sensual stripe along the side. You don’t break eye contact with Heeseung as you twist the cone between your fingers, coating the entire expanse with your tongue.

Heeseung gulps, adam’s apple bobbing as he watches a drop of melted cream land on your chest, then can’t help but follow it with his eyes as it glides down your skin over your right breast, then between your breasts, and finally landing somewhere in the covered area of your bikini top.

As if he wasn’t just ogling your body, he looks back up to see you staring at him in amusement, and finally answers your question. “Nothing.”

You nod, smirking to yourself and quickly glancing towards all four of your friends now in the pool. “Nothing, huh?” You repeat and he nods eagerly.

“So what about that?” Your gaze drops to his lap, and only then does he realize how hard he’s gotten over this short interaction. “That seems pretty up to me.” You tease, letting out a giggle before abruptly standing up and stretching out the hand currently holding your ice cream.

Heeseung grabs the cone, confused but so love-struck that he’s barely processing anything at the moment. You push his hand closer to his mouth, watching as drops land onto the crotch of his swim trunks and he once again follows your gaze.

Grabbing his cheek with one hand and pushing the ice cream past his lips with the other, you smile widely at him. “Finish for me, yeah?”

.☼.

If yesterday really happened, then Heeseung is in a slight dilemma. After arriving home last night, he did finish for you. At least, he hopes that’s what you meant by finish. Perhaps you really did mean the yummy treat but he knows you. He knows your double meanings and your teasing jokes.

But this makes his situation all the worse. To anyone else, these interactions would have confirmed your requited feelings for Heeseung, but it’s you. You’re so confusing.

With the way you’re so teasing with everyone, and the way you show affection in questionable manners. Even the way you openly treat all and any of your friends as if they’re your boyfriend.

Heeseung remembers when Sunoo complimented the scent of your lip gloss, so in return you kissed him for a solid five seconds, stating that you “just wanted him to taste it”. Yeah, sure.

Or the time Jake wanted you to clean up his eyebrows for him, which resulted in you sitting in his lap for fifteen stiff minutes applying your entire skin care routine on him.

Whatever you have going on in your head, it confuses Heeseung. Which is why he decided he’s finally going to man up and ask you on a date at your daily pool hang out.

At least, he’s going to try to. Hopefully if you’re not wearing his favorite red bikini. Hopefully if you somehow magically forgot the events of yesterday. Hopefully if he just grows some balls and lets his feelings free for the first time in years. Probably not.

.☼.

It’s safe to say, you did not forget the events of yesterday, you’re definitely wearing Heeseung’s favorite red bikini, and he has not at all grown any balls to even make eye contact with you yet.

He’s been here for an hour. One whole agonizing hour of watching you climb onto Jake’s shoulders and wrestle Sunghoon who is on Sunoo’s shoulders. Thankfully, Sunoo has thighs of steel and is able to keep Sunghoon steady while you push and pull all in an attempt to knock him over.

Heeseung’s jaw clenches and his eyes don’t leave your hands— your hands that are currently touching up every part of Sunghoon’s body. He contemplates leaving now and skipping out on the guy’s night he and his friends hold biweekly.

Your fingers grip Sunghoon’s biceps before making their way to his chest, nails scratching their way down his ridged stomach, letting out frustrated groans as you poke and poke at Sunghoon’s body.

Oh, how Heeseung wishes it was his body you were touching. He can’t take it anymore, standing up quickly and pushing his lawn chair back, where it hits the floor with a loud crash before making his way into the house just like he did yesterday.

The crash distracts you and Sunghoon takes this as an advantage as he swiftly loosens your harsh grip on Jake’s shoulders and pushes you down into the water.

From outside of the pool, Jay sighs to himself before following Heeseung back inside, finding him snooping through Sunghoon’s home bar.

“She’s not going to fuck you if you’re not sober, you know.” Heeseung jumps at the sound of Jay’s voice, almost dropping one of the expensive bottles of alcohol.

He shrugs and continues snooping. “Who said anything about fucking?” His reply is nonchalant but his best friend can see right through his act. “Your eyes say everything I need to know.” Jay laughs to himself but Heeseung doesn’t find it funny.

“Whatever. She’s not into me like that anyways.” Heeseung speaks like he’s trying to convince himself, but Jay can hear the hopeful tone in his voice. “Trust me. She was eye fucking you earlier when you weren’t looking.”

Jay barely gets the sentence out before Heeseung is visibly perking up. “Really?!” His face is bright and his eyes are glossy and wide. “Relax, man. Don’t pop a boner in front of me.” Jay teases his friend and Heeseung rolls his eyes in embarrassment, because he definitely would grow stiff at just the mention of your name.

Jay heads back towards the sliding door but turns back to Heeseung before he opens it. “By the way, Hoon invited her to stay the night with us also.” He smiles to himself before continuing his sentence. “So please try to keep it down if you do happen to make it past first base.” With that, he makes his way back to the pool and leaves Heeseung with a heavy problem in his swim trunks.

.☼.

Heeseung opens his eyes to the sound of obnoxious snoring echoing throughout Sunghoon’s living room. He’s not sure how long he’s been asleep but by the looks of it, everyone else seems to have knocked out by now too. Closing his eyes, he decides to try to fall back asleep. Until he’s startled awake-

“Heeseung.”

Shooting his eyes back open, he sits up from his place on the couch and looks around the dark room. With his eyes adjusting to the lack of light, he can only barely make out your figure kneeling next to him on the floor. “What the fuck are you doing?” He whispers a little too loudly and you stand up, a palm covering his mouth swiftly as you take place onto the couch next to him.

Heeseung is a big man, meaning he already takes up most of the space, leaving you only a small sliver of cushion to sit on. So, you climb up onto his lap to get comfortable— because of course you would. Stiffening up from under you, he makes eye contact with you the best he can with the dim lighting, only the moonlight peeking through the curtains.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You whisper, slowly taking your hand off of his mouth and trailing it down his chest and stomach, finally resting it at his side. Your thumb swipes comfortably there, almost as if you’re reassuring him, letting him know that this is real. “And I’m bored.” You lean in closer to him, your hand now coming up to his chest and pushing him to lay flat underneath you, his head landing softly on the armrest of the couch.

He gulps, big doe eyes looking up at you almost innocently. But you know that’s not the case. You’ve seen the way he watches you when he thinks you’re not looking. Seeing him drool over you is one thing but seeing him think he’s being slick with it? It, makes you way more aroused than you’d like to admit.

However, it’s taken too long for him to act on his desires, so you decide to do it for him. “Wanna help me?” Your voice is sultry and low, and Heeseung’s tummy feels warm as it stirs with excitement when he nods. Leaning down slowly, you stop as soon as the tip of your nose brushes Heeseung’s. Nodding your head slightly, you rub your nose against his almost domestically, before leaning in and lightly pressing your lips to his.

The kiss doesn’t last long, as you’re quick to pull away and smile. But Heeseung isn’t pleased yet, instead cupping the back of your head with his hand and pulling your face back towards his. Your lips smash together almost painfully, but you’re distracted quickly as his tongue immediately pushes its way into your mouth. It’s warm and wet, strong as it glides against yours in a teasing manner.

You catch his bottom lip between yours, sucking on it for a second before biting it softly and pulling away, watching as it bounces back now glossy and red. Heeseung expects more, but to his surprise, you just jump off of his lap and quietly walk to the door that leads outside.

Looking back, you watch his silhouette as he runs a hand through his hair and sits up again. You turn back to unlock the door, already taking your shirt off to expose your bare torso before turning to him one last time. “You coming?”

.☼.

If anyone had told Heeseung two days ago that he would be not only skinny dipping at 2am with you—but shoving his tongue down your throat as well, he wouldn’t believe it.

But, lo and behold, he currently has your back pressed to the edge of the pool with your legs wrapped around his naked waist, lips locked and swollen.

It all happened in a rush, between you stripping to nothing in front of him to him following your lead and ending up intertwined, he suddenly finds himself in a dream-like state.

Was this really happening? The girl he’s been craving for years is finally giving him a chance? Heeseung feels like happiest man on earth right now, and judging by the little moans you let out every now and then, he thinks you may feel the same.

“Heeseung.” You practically whimper as he drags his lips to your neck, nipping and sucking at your warm skin. His lips kiss down your chest softly, landing on one of your hard nipples. He pecks it so so softly, almost afraid of hurting you, but you want it to hurt. Grabbing the back of his head and pushing your chest forward, you encourage him to take your nipple into his mouth and he easily gets the hint.

He’s barely done anything and you’re already shaking in his arms, gripping his biceps and throwing your head back with a loud moan. “Heeseung- I need you to fuck me.”

He stops immediately, then slowly detaches his mouth from your nipple and looks up at you. “Yeah? Want me to fuck this pretty pussy?” He thrusts his hips up, his movements slowed by the water but his cock still manages to brush against your folds. You bite your lip, nodding your head eagerly and Heeseung smiles. “Let me get a taste of it first.”

Without waiting for your response, he lifts you up and places you at the edge of the pool, your pussy sat deliciously in front of where he keeps himself afloat.

He almost drools, noting the way he can still see your slick drip out of you despite your whole body being drenched in pool water. Heeseung wastes no time, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you closer so his tongue can lap at your slit.

The pleasure sends a shock through your body, your back arching almost painfully and your hips push themselves harder against Heeseung’s face. He’s forced so close into your cunt that you can feel each feature—his nose stimulating your clit as his tongue teases your entrance and his plush lips sucking almost obnoxiously all while his chin is already slippery with your arousal.

“Ah-fuck!” He’s only been at it for a few minutes yet you’re already so close. But this isn’t want you want. No, as much as you want to release all over his pretty nose, you didn’t seduce him just to finish so quickly. So, you use all of your strength to pull him off of you and scoot away. “Need you to fuck me, now.”

That’s all it takes for Heeseung to lift himself out of the pool, pick you up, and then throw you on the nearest lounging chair. Thank fuck for Heeseung convincing Sunghoon to buy these at the start of the summer. Otherwise he may have opted for fucking you on the itchy grass.

Grabbing his face, you pull him down, kissing him with a sloppy force while you grow more impatient by the second. “How do you want it?” He’s so polite as he asks, but just the idea of him caring about your pleasure is so arousing. You turn around, placing your cheek on the cushion of the pool lounger and wiggling your ass to taunt him.

It works, of course, and Heeseung takes his place behind you. He slaps his thick girth on the crevice of your ass, feeling the heat between your bodies mix with the humid summer night air. “Hurry, please.” You whine but he just shushes you, dropping his cock to gather your slick on his tip.

You’re tired of waiting, pushing yourself back only slightly to feel him enter you just an inch. “Oh, God.” You gasp, caught off guard by the stretch of just the head. He fights the urge to fully push himself in, instead gently sliding in more, your walls clenching tighter and tighter as each inch stretches you out, a tingling feeling fluttering in your stomach.

He fully bottoms out, standing still with his hands on your hips for a second, before somehow pushing even deeper. You squeak, brows furrowing as you try to ignore the pain of the threatening size currently stuffing you full. You open your eyes, looking back to see his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his eyes shut.

You reach your hand back and tap his own hand, letting him know he can finally move. He nods, leaning forward a bit to hover his body closer to yours. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” You smile at him for a second, but it’s quickly replaced by an open mouthed moan as he pulls back a few inches, then slams himself back in.

Building up a steady pace, he thrusts a few times before finally letting out his first moan. And God, was it beautiful. “Yes-yes let me hear you, baby.” Your voice is weak as his thrusts push your whole body against the chair, your breath unsteady and shaky with each meet of your hips.

It feels amazing, but you can’t help but feel that Heeseung is trying to be gentle with you, which you don’t want. Pushing yourself back again, you meet his thrusts with quiet hmph hmph hmph noises that catch his attention. “You need more? Yeah? My cock isn’t enough for you, needy baby?” He coos at you but you know he’s still holding back. “Please, Heeseung. More.” Your fragile voice ignites something in him, and you’re suddenly being picked up by your hair.

Heeseung grabs your wrists and pins them to the top of the lounger, romantically intertwining his fingers between yours before aggressively snapping his hips against your ass. You let out an almost-too-loud moan, but it only fuels Heeseung more. Your bodies are close and he can’t pull back fully, so instead he fucks into you at a fast, almost blinding pace.

He watches your ass jiggle as it meets his pelvis, the bouncing fat sending him to an almost trance like state. The only thing that snaps him out of it is your whiny voice. “Harder, Heeseung, harder!” He pulls out fully, not giving you time to process his actions as he sits down on the lounger and pulls you on top of him, slipping his cock back into your heat easily.

Thrusting up once, twice, then a third time, he watches your thighs tremble as you try to hold yourself up for him. He finds it cute, how you’ve teased him for so long only to end up too cock drunk to even ride him. He wraps his arms around your body, pulling you flat against him so you’re chest to chest with your face in his neck.

He slowly drags his cock out of you, then fully shoves it in, a loud squelching noise following. “So fucking wet. So fucking noisy.” He grits his teeth, clenching his jaw as he fucks up into your cunt in an almost inhumane pace. “Ah ah ah, shit! I’m cumming, Heeseung!”

Your warning barely falls from your lips as you clench impossibly tight around him, body stiffening for a second until your toes curl and you feel the knot in your stomach releasing with a tingling sensation spreading throughout your entire body, which then goes limp against Heeseung’s.

This encourages him to thrust harder, chasing his own release that he can already sense creeping up on him. His fingers dig into your ass, nails leaving indents as his hips don’t slow down. The sound of your release mixing with the slapping of his balls on your ass is all too much, and he finally lets himself go.

“Gonna cum in you, baby. Gonna cum so fucking deep-fuck!” He bites down on your shoulder as he cums, hips stilled and cock stuffed so deep inside of you, you’re sure you’ll end up pregnant even on birth control.

He slowly lowers his hips, caressing your back soothingly as if he’s apologizing for his harsh treatment before. “Was that okay? Did I hurt you?” He cups your cheeks to look into your eyes, only to meet your fucked out expression and lazy smile. “That was the best I’ve ever had.”

That was enough to almost have Heeseung stiffening up again, if not for the sound of the sliding door opening and Jay’s pissed off voice. “Brought you guys some towels.” He walks out with a hand covering his eyes and the other holding out two beach towels, which he throws on the floor carelessly, then walks back to the door. “I told you to keep it down if you got past first base.”

#enhypen smut #heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen x female reader

2K notes · View notes

pathologicalreid · 2 years ago

Note

Dude I love ur writing sm!! It’s literally so good and Buried Alive was amazing! If ur down for it (totally no pressure at all) I was wondering if u would eventually write a second part where Spencer helps the reader with the aftermath? Like maybe they struggle with PTSD or severe claustrophobia after that? Idk ur literally amazing enough I’m sure u have great ideas and again, it’s completely up to u, I was just wondering

above ground | S.R.

part one part three

in which spencer helps you cope with the aftermath of your abduction, and you reciprocate

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: hurt/comfort, angst

content warnings: claustrophobia, being buried alive, nightmares/night terrors, ptsd, death, cpr, use of pet names, mentions of drugs, therapy, suffocation

word count: 2.2k

a/n: hello anon! i am absolutely always down for spencer reid hurt/comfort!! thank you so much for asking!!! i've been super overwhelmed with all of the support i've received on buried alive and i'm so so grateful for all of the kind things people have said.

Standing in a dark room, you looked around your surroundings. There was nothing around you that told you where you were. The walls were all blank, the ground was cement, and it was too dark for you to even see the ceiling.

Hesitantly, you reached out your palm, touching the wall just for it to be met with something… damp? You pulled your hand away, and your skin came back dirty. Your stomach churned as you observed the soil that had settled in the creases of your fingerprints. “No,” you breathed, quickly moving to dig at the walls.

You felt it on your elbow next, like the dirt walls were encroaching on you. You turned around to see the dark room was just getting darker, and the walls started to deteriorate. Like an avalanche, the dirt of the walls falls to the ground, covering your feet, “No,” you cried out this time.

Digging at the walls just made your earthly prison bury you faster, so instead, you tried to climb toward the ceiling. You whimpered in defeat as you reached the previously unseen ceiling. The loose earth reached your chest, constricting your breathing. You tilted your head back in an attempt to keep the dirt out of your mouth.

Your face felt cool like a gentle breeze was being blown on it. You choked, but to your surprise, you didn’t choke on dirt.

There were hands on you, one hand on your shoulder and another on your waist. That didn’t make sense to you, someone hauled you into a sitting position, patting your back in an attempt to help you clear your throat.

The choking turned to coughing, which then turned to dry heaving off the edge of your bed. Very rarely did anything ever come out, but you kept a trash can there just in case. You blinked as someone reached over and turned on the lamp on your bedside table, the comforting hand remained on your back.

Desperately, you tried to catch your breath, tilting your head back as you tried to open your airway. “You’re safe. I’m right here, angel,” Spencer whispered from behind you, he leaned his forehead between your shoulder blades and drew hearts on your back with his index finger.

You took a deep, shuddering breath as you finally filled your lungs, visualizing the air going in and out of your body. Breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth.

Spencer continued whispering to you, not once did he tell you that your dream wasn’t real because it was real. To you, being buried alive was very real. The suffocation was real, it had happened to you.

Two months ago, you had been abducted and buried alive by a family, a mother and her two sons. All of whom were in jail awaiting trial. The two agents from the Omaha field office who had left you alone in the funeral home apologized profusely, you had a private meeting with the director of the FBI, and the BAU rallied behind you, it was nice, but none of it made the fear go away.

The first nightmare came the same night you were back in Virginia, and you had screamed so loud that your neighbors called the police. Spencer handled everything, and when the officers insisted that they needed to speak to you directly, he flashed his FBI credentials, something he really wasn’t supposed to do.

Your response was to avoid sleeping, at least at night. You stayed awake at night, reading, or watching TV with headphones on, and you slept during the day so that when you opened your eyes, you could feel the sun on your face. The problem was when you needed to go somewhere, you didn’t sleep, or when it rained, you didn’t sleep.

The exhaustion just made your anxiety worse, and Spencer caught on to it. He sat you down on the couch and held your hands, telling you that he understood that you didn’t want to feel like you were burdening anyone with your nightmares, but he needed you to understand that you were killing yourself at the same time.

He didn’t do it for everyone, but for you, Spencer took over the role of protector. He found you a therapist in the district that specialized in patients with PTSD and claustrophobia. It was an hour round trip, but Spencer was more than willing to take you the first few times.

Dr. Montgomery quickly diagnosed you with PTSD and claustrophobia. You hadn’t realized that claustrophobia was something you could be clinically diagnosed with, but the doctor told you that there’s a difference between a fear of enclosed spaces and what you had. He was straightforward, which you liked, and he told you that your claustrophobia was a response to the traumatic event that you had experienced.

A steady course of treatment that included medication and exposure therapy had slowly been giving you your life back.

But then there was Spencer.

Spencer had Morgan help him take the inside doors of your apartment off the hinges so air would flow, and you wouldn’t be afraid of suffocating. He left the ceiling fan in your bedroom on even as the weather cooled so the air never got stale.

Six weeks ago, you had mentioned offhandedly that you were having a hard time sleeping in total silence, and Spencer had come home later with a white noise machine.

When you apologized to him for needing the lights on to sleep, he responded by stringing lights around the entire apartment, telling you he read that warm light can help prepare the mind and body for sleep.

He turned in all of his PTO, even accepting some from David Rossi, who didn’t use his anyway, so he could stay home with you while you were on mandatory medical leave. He tagged along to therapy appointments, to the neurologist, and even to the FBI physician who needed to clear your physical injuries to your ribs before you could return to the field.

On his nightstand, there was a stack of books all about claustrophobia and loving someone with PTSD.

Not once through this whole endeavor did you question your relationship with Spencer, he made himself perfectly clear through his actions. He wasn’t going anywhere.

The FBI physician cleared you two weeks ago, your neurologist faxed Hotch paperwork stating you were without any deficits, and your psychiatrist told you that as long as you felt like you could avoid your triggers, you should be able to go back to work. In fact, Dr. Montgomery thought going back to work could be beneficial.

You were supposed to go back tomorrow.

Spencer was now sitting in front of you, and he offered you a small smile as you blinked yourself out of your nightmare-induced stupor and met his eyes, “There’s my girl,” he whispered. For a moment, you focused on his movements, smoothing your hair back with one hand and leaving the other hand resting on your waist. “I love you. You’re safe, you’re at home with me,” he reassured you.

You narrowed your eyebrows, “It was- I was in the ground again.” Hesitantly, you looked down at your hands, they were perfectly clean, not a speck of dirt to be seen.

“It was a night terror, angel,” he said, speaking gently to you as he reached over and pulled the strap of your tank top up and over your shoulder from where it had fallen. A night terror, not a nightmare.

Tears dropped down your face when you closed your eyes. “I couldn’t breathe,” you whimpered. Taking a gasping breath, you looked at Spencer as you tried to draw air into your lungs, “I couldn’t breathe, Spence. I couldn’t breathe.”

Quickly, Spencer pulled you into his lap and held you, “Shh,” he cooed. “I’ve got you, my love. I’m right here,” he murmured as you set your chin on his shoulder and cried.

“I suffocated,” you whispered, it was a fact of your life, that you had stopped breathing for a period of time. The doctors estimated you had been down for almost ten minutes.

His hold on you tightened, “I know,” his voice broke slightly. “I know, baby,” he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. “What do you need?” He asked, watching you intently as he reached up and used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away your tears.

You blinked the last of your tears from your eyes before meeting his, “Can we go outside?” You asked him, placing your hands on both of his shoulders.

Spencer nodded, leaning over to grab his glasses off of his nightstand before standing up and picking you up as he went.

Instinctively, you yelped, but a laugh escaped your lips. It was a foreign feeling sometimes, but Spencer always knew how to elicit a smile from you. “Put me down,” you said, but your tone was light.

Once your feet were touching the ground, Spencer looked at you, “I just wanted to see you smile.” He said earnestly.

Despite yourself, the corner of your mouth quirked up, “Thank you.” You reached over to grab your phone off the charger and slide it into your pocket before you led Spencer out to your apartment’s balcony. He sat down on one of the chairs and pulled you down onto his lap.

You let him hold you, not moving and just letting your body settle on top of his. The cool autumn air filled your lungs as Spencer held you. You let him hold you because you knew that his fear was just as valid as yours. While you were afraid of confinement because you had been confined, he was afraid of you dying because you had died.

“I can hear you thinking, honey,” you whispered, leaning your head on his shoulder. “What’s on your mind?” You asked him, taking his hand and intertwining your fingers together.

He sighed, “I’m worried about you,” he admitted. “I want to tell you not to go back to work yet, even though I know that logically it’s the next step for you,” Spencer said, you watched his honey-colored eyes as they studied your face. “And I know that you need it, you need to return to something dependable.”

You move your head so you can look him in the eyes better, “But?”

“But,” he continued, “the BAU isn’t dependable. You have this great routine that we’ve very nearly perfected and I’m so worried about you straying from it. The long hours at work could very well cause you to lose all of the progress you’ve made in the last two months,” he tells you candidly. “What happens when you need to get on an elevator, or when you need to get on the jet, and you can’t? What about when you-“ He cut himself off, swallowing thickly before he said something he couldn’t take back.

You shifted so you were facing him, shoulder to shoulder, “What is it, Spence?”

He took a deep breath and cupped your cheek with his hand, “The last case you worked on, you died. I pulled your dead body out of a casket. Fuck, Y/N,” his curse took you aback, he usually strayed from swearing. “I did CPR on you before Morgan took over,” he finished, voice growing hoarse.

Your lips parted; you couldn’t answer him. You didn’t know how to answer him, but you took his hand and selected his third and index finger before pressing them to the pulse point on your wrist. In response, he sighed and leaned his forehead to yours. You watched his lips move as he silently counted the beats per minute.

The both of you jumped when your phone went off, and dread filled your stomach when you checked your phone.

Penelope Garcia: Local case. Round table room in thirty if you’re up for it.

“If you ask me to stay home, I will,” you told Spencer, sweeping his curls behind his ears. “I won’t hold it against you, I’ll tell Hotch I need more time.”

Spencer shook his head, “You know I can’t do that. I can’t make that decision for you, and I don’t want you to make the decision for me, you need to choose what you want.”

You both went, Spencer distracted you for the entire elevator ride up to the BAU, but he was still tense. Even though he insisted he was fine, you knew him better than that.

Spencer followed you up to Hotch’s office and when you told Hotch you wanted to work but you didn’t feel ready to be in the field, your unit chief nodded and told you that you were welcome to stay in the local precinct and work on a geographical profile with Spencer.

You watched the tension leave Spencer’s body. He tried to tell you that you didn’t need to do that, but you just rolled your eyes and dragged him to the roundtable room.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid whump #spencer reid hurt/comfort #david rossi #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #spencer reid angst #written by margot #margot's asks #criminal minds angst

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justaaveragereader · 2 years ago

Text

Slashtober 🔪|| Invisible Man Hongjoong

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Choking, MeanDom!Hongjoong, Pussy Slapping, Man Handling, Degradation, Spanking, Unprotected Sex, Name Calling (Whore, Slut..), Stomach Bulge, Rough Sex, Mirror Sex, Consensual Sex, If I Missed Anything.. Let Me Know…👀!

A/N: They are all slashers so all of them are going to be boarder lining mean doms Or just mean doms🤪😁.

Slashtober Masterlist

NSFW UNDER CUT🔞 MDNI!!!

The first new neighbor was Kim Hongjoong, devilish eyes, sharp nose, and pristine clean man. With a huge moving truck across the street you couldn’t help but get curious as to who was moving in. You quickly made way to introduce yourself, wanting to befriend the hot, and hopefully single male. He was out on his lawn instructing the movers where to place his boxes in his home. With arms full of water bottles you stood by the curb.

“Hello! I hope I’m not disturbing you, but I saw you were new to the neighborhood. I just wanted to stop over and introduce myself, and also offer some water as I see you all are working ha-..”

He turned around to look at you and you trailed off into your sentence, mind completely blanking by his visuals. He was even hotter up close.

“Why hello!” His voice was higher than you expected yet it was still so attractive like the rest of him. From that day forward. Anytime you saw him outside you went out of your way to greet Hongjoong, you learned he had no wife, no kids, he owned the home he was living in. You never saw anyone leave in or out, so you assumed he had no girlfriend either. He did leave at odd times of the night, sometimes not returning til late a.m. you had assumed his job as an artist made him have odd hours.

As more neighbors started to pile into the neighborhood the weirder things got, you noticed no matter how many times you closed your bedroom window, it was always left open a crack. Strange white residue would be left on your mirror. Certain clothing items would be missing. Yet you never felt the need to investigate what went on. Blaming it on your lack of caffeine, along with your lack of sleep. One night you had awoken to the buttons to your night shirt popping open slowly, your eyes literally watching them undo themselves. Too stunned to move you watch the last button pop. The creaking of your mattress falls upon your deaf ears, stunned by the sight in front of you. Nothing. Absolutely nothing is there, nothing you can see, nothing you can make out. Nothing. Your heavy breathing is the only sound heard, besides the late night crickets making noise out your cracked window. The cool autumn breeze blows through, causing you to shiver.

The indentation on your bed should’ve clicked in your head but when you looked forward at the mirror all you saw was yourself panting and out of breath. Deciding it was best you lay back down, forcing yourself to go to sleep. If this was a dream you were definitely not going to entertain it any longer.

As morning came your window was still yet cracked, the room now cold with the autumn air, and your bed messily tossed around. Looking out of your window, you see him once again. Raking the leaves on his lawn, Kim Hongjoong. While you stand and gawk at him it never registers in your mind that your night shirt is completely unbuttoned, your bra just completely out for everyone to see. It’s almost like he senses you looking at him. Turning from the leaves he looks up at you, shooting you a toothy grin, waving his one nail manicured hand at you. You smile back, clearly dumbstruck at his warm smile. The breeze of air flows in, blowing your shirt back, the nipply feeling in your skin causes you to look down, embarrassment creeping up at your neck, when you look up, Hongjoong isn’t there. The pile of leaves are scattered, no signs of every being raked. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you step away from the window. Proceeding to get ready, as you walk to your bathroom you notice that weird white residue on the lower half of the mirror, letting out a huff you start your normal routine of getting items to clean the mirror, while struggling to find an outfit for the day.

It was always at night time when things got weird for you. The window always cracked open at night, your pajamas would randomly be off. You were convinced you truly were going insane. That was till everything snowballed one night. Those light touches turned into firm grasps, your airways would at times become cut off like something was blocking them. Your cunt would ache like it had just got rammed the night prior. Yet you always woke up with a chipper attitude, a small limp in your walk but a bright, relieved smile nonetheless. Tonight was no different, you heard the window crack, not even bothering to turn over, you remained still. Trying to level your breathing out as you feel the cool air invade your warm space. The small creaks of your floorboards can be heard. Suddenly a cold object touches your ankle, causing your body to flinch. Your leg shoots close to your chest, eyes open wide trying to make out whatever was in the dark. You saw absolutely nothing, were you truly losing your mind? Had you gone off the deep end?

“What are you..?” You whisper out quietly, you hear the bed creak as if something sat on it, yet you are on high alert with fear it doesn’t register in your mind. You feel an object touch your shoulder pushing you down harshly. Your body submits easily, you’ve done this same song and dance numerous times. Yet this was always the thrilling part, the part where you would try to piece together what or who was doing this. A high pitched laugh can be heard through the room, causing your body to attempt to sit up just to be pushed back down.

“I’m the best thing that’s happened to you slut.” A voice suddenly speaks out, you feel your legs shift open the bed dipping with each movement. A cool sensation runs up and down your warm fleshy thighs. You let out a small whimper, so easily submitting yourself to whatever it was that was making you walk like your legs were two over cooked noodles in the morning.

“You like this don’t you? Needy whore.” Hongjoong pushes his thumb down on your clit through your pajama pants, he’s been doing this so long with you he knows your body, and what it likes. He knows it so well, he can be deprived of all senses and he’d still know how to work your body. You let out a small moan, cocking your legs open more. Morals tossed aside for something you continuously thought was a dream. His thumb rubbing small circles amongst your clit, drawing our small noises from you. You were always so pretty when you made those sweet noises for him. Drawing his hand away from your cunt, he gets more comfortable between your legs. The lack of feeling him for a split second has you whining instantly. Bringing his hand down to your clothed pussy he gives it a slap. Causing your body to jerk up from the sudden action. If only you could see how his eyes darkened when he saw how well you responded to that action, waking up an inner demon in him.

“You want me to keep going? You’ll spread your legs for anything that crawls into this room huh.” He cackles out, mind now fueled with one thing, and one thing only. He was going to completely ruin your pretty ass, and he was going to make sure if you even had the ability to get up and walk the next day, you’d be walking with a limp. The noises that continue to leave your throat as he man handles you, pulling you to sit up so he can swiftly unbutton your shirt. He’s tossing you around like you are nothing more than a flesh light that he is lubing up getting ready to use.

Pulling you to the floor, your night shirt rides up your back, as your shirt is completely unbuttoned your bra is on display once again for whatever is pulling you down. Dragging you in front of the mirror, panting with nerves due to not being able to see what was dragging you around effortlessly. Crushing your thighs together you are wound up from all the touching on the bed. Whatever is in the room with you. You feel its warm breath on your ear, causing your nails to dig into your thigh. Gripping your face he causes you to look into the mirror, you already look fucked out. Your face is slick with what you think is saliva, shirt hanging off of your shoulders faint bruising littered across your chest. You suddenly feel cool hands on your lower half, watching with full attention in the mirror you see your pajama shorts get pulled down slowly. Revealing your embarrassingly wet panties that are clinging to your folds. A warm breath hits your ear.

“Look at you, disgusting slut. You get this wet for just anybody?” A high pitched voice with a rough undertone speaks out into your ear. Your legs are spread open more. A hand grips your scalp tightly, cocking your head back. You look up at nothing, a high pitched chuckle that sends a shiver down your spine makes your blood curdle, but your lower stomach flips.

“I should fuck you with in a inch of your life you pathetic whore. Look at you, so fucked out for me and I haven’t even stuck my cock in you.” Letting go of your scalp, he pushes you on your stomach, snatching your night shirt off you, unhooking your bra so your breast fall free. A humming noise is heard behind you, Hongjoong grips his hard cock through his suit, not that you could see any of his movements. Pushing a thumb on your clothed clit hearing the soft squelching noise of your panties being squashed between your moist lower lips. You let out a small moan, not wanting to give whatever it was the satisfaction of hearing your moans. You feel a heavy weight slap your ass, knowing you will have a welt on your cheek in the morning. Letting out a choked out moan your body shivers from the impact.

“Look in the mirror, whore. Look at yourself, pussy dripping for something you can’t even see. Are you always this easy?” He hisses out, gripping the back of your neck, bringing his lips down to your ear, the sweet scented breath engulfing your senses.

“Answer me!” He growls out into your ear, your eyes rolling back at the glimpse you catch in the mirror, your body angled in such a way yet it was just you in the mirror. You choke out a sob through your moan. His hand coming down to slap your ass, jiggling your ass cheek in his hand. Mounerving your body so when you are face first to the mirror. Hiking your hips up so your back arches, pulling you panties down behind your knees. The cool autumn air hits your hot core. Causing you to let out a small gasp. His hand wraps around your throat making you collide with his broad chest. Back curved, breast on display, panties pulled down to behind your knees.

“Pitiful slut, how many others have you had in this wet cunt of yours?” Letting his thumb roll around on your clit, you bite your lip trying your best to remain conscious as to what is going on around you. His hand swiftly comes down giving your pussy a slap. Causing your body to jerk forward, you would've fallen forward if it wasn’t for Hongjoongs tight hold on your throat. Gripping his hand tighter blocking your oxygen off, the way he’s flicking his fingers on your clit though, you could care less how your body is being deprived of oxygen. Your hands fly to try to grab the invisible figure as your vision starts getting blurry, yet the way an orgasm is coursing through your veins you should care more but the feeling of fear is what pushes you over the edge. Letting out a choked out cry, your toes curl. Taking in a big breath of air, while Hongjoong still rubs slow circles over your pulsing clit. You flounder around on the floor trying to run from the invisible hand that you cannot see. His strong hand grips your hips keeping you in place.

“There are plenty of pathetic whores I could waste my time on, yet I’m here with you. Be a good girl and give me another one.” He grits into your ear, causing you to let out a whimper, gripping the small patch of carpet in front of your mirror, you glimpse up, seeing your back perfectly arched, you can see an indentation of a hand print of your ass cheek. Causing your mouth to moisten, you were drooling. Were you truly a sight to see. Letting out a choked on sob. You start pleading.

“Please please please..” you cry out, brain completely dried of any thoughts. He wanted you to cum again, yet you were begging for it. His hand comes down to slap your cunt. Your body lurching forward. His hand wrapping around your throat again, pulling you back to his chest, his firm grip on your throat was destined to leave a mark. His grip tightening with each breath you take.

“Be a good slut and spread your lips open.” He grits into your ear, tightening his hand slightly. Brain on autopilot you spread your mouth open slightly. His hand cracking down on your ass cheek, making you jolt in his firm grasp.

“You going dumb already on me slut? Spread those pussy lips for me, otherwise I will make sure your pathetic ass doesn’t cum again.” Tone the lowest it’s been since he’s been in the room. Bringing your hand down to your sopping cunt you spread your lips open. Your fingers glistening with your slick. His hand tightens even more causing you to let out a choked on whimper.

“Look at yourself…” the hand that is wrapped around your throat jerks your head up, your body is flush with sweat, your fingers holding open your slick lips, eyes glazed over. You looked like eight days of blissful rain. His hand comes down to smack your spread open cunt. Causing your body to arch further into his grasp. Your fingers lip away from holding your lips open. His hand jerks your neck back, so you are flush against his body.

“Hold them lips open baby, if you don’t it’ll only get worse from here.” He whispers into your ear. Nibbling on your earlobe. Nodding in his tight grasp you move to open your lips back up, slick fingers making a quiet squelching noise. His hand comes back down to slap your cunt.

“Start counting slut. If you count like a good girl I will make it worth your while baby girl.” He grunts, digging his hard cock into your naked ass cheek. Bringing his hand down, slapping your cunt once more.

“O-one..” you stutter out.

“Wrong!” Bringing his hand down faster, smacking your cunt a little harder than last time.

“How many times did I smack your wet little cunt before this?” He says tilting your face up with his index finger that is tightly laced around your throat giving it a small squeeze. Shutting your eyes, your body shivers with neediness.

“Twice! Twice!” You choke out, tears streaming down your face.

“Please…plea-se.” You hiccup out.

“Please fuck me.” Your fingers still spreading your glistening cunt open, juices running down your inner thighs. Letting out a growl at your begging he lets go of your throat, shoving your head into the carpet, placing a hand onto your back, arching you even further. You feel a weight on your back, his body covers your own.

“Only because you beg so pretty.” He unzips a small section of his suit, letting his cock spring free, the way you are bent in the mirror you aren’t able to see the flesh of his cock. You still see nothing. Tapping his cock against your slick folds, he rubs his head over your puffy, red clit. Letting out a mockingly coo at you. Sliding his heavy cock in between your folds slickening himself up before sliding in, causing you to let out a loud moan. Your hands instantly gripping the plush carpet beneath you. Grabbing one of your hips, while keeping a hand on your lower back so you are perfectly arched. He lets out a hissing noise.

“Fuuuckkkk…” Hongjoong groans out, trying his best not to blow his load already. Your tight walls were strangling his cock. How was he supposed to last long? Gripping your neck he pulls you flush against him. He had to make this fast.

“Look at yourself baby, go ahead and look at yourself.” He grits into your ear, driving his hips up, you instantly let out a mewl. Picking your head up you look at yourself, stomach slightly bulged at the bottom, thick print of a cock in your stomach. Juices everywhere, drool on the side of your face, yeah, you definitely had a great night.

He slides out slightly before, placing a hand on your waist, bouncing your overly stimulated body on his cock. Your cunt grips him even tighter. His breathing getting heavier, your pussy felt like heaven. If he had to keep you locked up for his keepings best believe he would. Your loud screams can be easily heard from outside, Hongjoong did leave the window cracked open for them all to hear.

Slowing his hips down, as he pulls his cock slightly out, he pulls your body up, and slams you back down slowly. Making sure you feel every bulging vein drag through your warm wet walls. You can feel him pulsing in your cunt. You should be ashamed that you are getting off on God knows what but they way they are fucking you, you could care less. You are drooling over your breasts, you look in the mirror, seeing yourself being held up.

Shoving you to the floor, making sure when you lay face down all you get is a eye sight of your body being fucked. Sliding back in he lets out a groan. Slamming his hips back into you. Gripping the top of your ass cheeks to stabilize himself, so he can fuck you harder. He’s fucking you so good and so hard you can’t even feel the rug burn that’s beginning to set in on your knees. Your ass bounces off his suit, coating it in a shiny slick, the wet smacking noise is consistent with his thrusts.

“Fuck me! Oh my god…fuck me!” You shout your orgasm starting to creep up faster than you would like. Hunching his body over yours, he grabs a handful of your boob, his body weight on your neck feels delicious. His warm breath in your ear.

“I’m fucking you good aren’t I slut?” He grits out, cock still ramming into your squelching hole. You cry out, to what ever was fucking, warning them that you were close. Both hands come up to wrap around your throat, applying light pressure, causing your back to arch off the ground slightly, you can see your ass ricochet off of what is behind you. He’s holding you like he’s going to choke the life force out of you. Like you are nothing but dumb delicious putty in his hands. You can hear grunting filling the room over the wet skin smacking.

“You looking at yourself get fucked stupid slut?” He grits out, speeding up his hips resulting in your body to jolt forward with each thrust. Tears pour down your face, along with saliva. You truly were being fucked stupid. Biting his lip to prolong his orgasm, he tightens his hold on your throat, cutting your airways off. Your eyes roll back from the pleasure, cumming instantaneously. Your mouth drops open, drool pours out onto the plush rug beneath you. Hongjoongs hips speed up, his hands dropping from your throat, rag dolling your tightened cunt onto his heavy cock. Slamming his hips up once more he pulls out, shooting his load onto the mirror. Marking his territory, making sure you knew someone or something was there making you feel that good. Your head hits your rug immediately, passing out from your intense orgasms leaving Hongjoong to clean you up. Unzipping his suit slightly so he can let his sweaty skin breathe. He takes some of his dripping cum from the mirror and smears it across your puffy folds.

Marking you in as many ways as possible. Lifting you from the rug, he places you on your mattress. Tossing your clothes close to the side of your bed. Getting you comfortable on the bed, with no aftercare. He cracks open your window, zipping up the rest of his suit. Shimming his way back down the side of your house. Making sure to leave your window open just a crack.

The bright sun shining directly into your eye awakens you. As you crack open your eyes you are met with the sound of Hongjoong raking his leaves once more. Your body feels like it has been hit by a bus. Sitting up, limping your way to the bathroom, you don’t even care to think about why your clothes are off…last night was just a fever dream…right? Staring into your bathroom mirror, your lips perk up at the markings on your body..surely you aren’t crazy..? Whatever was here surely did a number on you, yet you couldn’t think of anything but the need for whatever it was to come back. Showering the stench of sweat off your body, you get dressed, and limp your way to where Hongjoong was raking leaves, from the corner of his eye he can see you limping. Trying to bite back his greedy smile, he turns around, acting startled at your appearance.

“Good Morning Neighbor!” He greets cheerfully.

You smile at him, rubbing your hands together, tugging your turtle neck up slightly to cover the markings on your neck.

“Good Morning Hongjoong! You are at it early this morning, aren’t you?”

He smiles at you briefly, internally he is boasting with joy, a shit eating grin being held back.

“I had a good night's rest last night, I feel really rejuvenated so I thought why not come out here and start the lawn early! How did you sleep? Restful, I hope?” He drops an octave at the last sentence, your body immediately littering with goosebumps. You smile at him telling him you slept all too well. Hopefully you will be able to sleep that well again. He tosses you a brief smile. Wrapping up the convo you bid him well, limping your way back to your house.

“Y/n! A good girl like you should always sleep well..” He calls out in a low tone. Your body immediately stops in your tracks. Turning around to look at Hongjoong who was nowhere to be seen. Looking around you see nothing, not even the pile of leaves he was raking together. Maybe the neighborhood was beginning to play tricks on you.

GIF by @justaaveragereader

Taglist: @araknoid @atinytinaa @sanhwalvr @k-hotchoisan @darkdayelixer @abby-grace @tunaasan @jkookiejiminlvr @luckyblue98 @notevenheretbh1 @moonlightsora @raindropsondragons @park-simphwa @ro-written @hwajoongsang @certifiedmoa @pearltinyy @minniebinnie @solarstoy @frobin4ever @gvnwks @ethelia @jin-neck-shaft @nitarolls @jenthehobbityelf @gg-trini @tearfulsparks78 @10nantscompanion @moonm1st @oreoqueen @leehopehocarat @scuzmunkie @bangtan4everr @acetruepunk @s-unflowxr @rxnexxi @tenpesos @mixling-blog @sammylvr @helsnik

#slashtober 2023 #slasher!ateez #slasher ateez #Ateez smut #dom! hongjoong smut #dom!ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #kim hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #kim hongjoong x reader

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idciminlove · 8 months ago

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Take a Slice

Part One - Miracle

f!reader x Tashi Duncan x Art Donaldson x Patrick Zweig

Cinnamonacid on AO3

warnings- age gap, inaccurate tennis stuff, etc.

You love tennis. You devoted your life to it, watching, practicing, and playing it every single day. You never thought it could love you back. You never thought they could love you back. Not until you caught Tashi's eye.

𝙽𝙲𝙰𝙰 𝚆𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗'𝚜 𝚃𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚜 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚂𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚜

𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚍, 𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚊

𝙼𝚊𝚢 𝟸𝟷𝚜𝚝, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟸

𝟿 𝙰𝙼

Anxious chatter resonated inside the bus, echoing off the walls. You did your best to ignore it, resting your head against the window, watching the buildings blur by and listening to music instead. Unfortunately, you were unable to ignore how your stomach was twisting with nerves. You felt sick. You tried to focus on the song playing, shutting your eyes.

You imagined yourself with the racket in your hands, hitting the ball as hard as you could. Getting aces, scoring points, and winning. Positive imagery, like your coach would say. Visualizing the best possible outcome. What you’re good at. What you can do. What you’ve worked so hard to do.

Someone grabbed your shoulder, shaking you and making you jump. You opened your eyes and pulled out an earbud, gazing up at the culprit. Your teammate.

“You know I heard that Tashi Duncan and Art Donaldson are going to be at the matches today, and Patrick Zweig, too.”

“It’s not surprising. We’re going to their alma mater.” You shrugged, playing it cool, as if what she told you didn’t make you ten times more nervous, as if you hadn’t been obsessed with them ever since your early teenage years. Especially Tashi, who you idolize completely and may or may not have contributed to your bisexual awakening.

“Well, aren’t you nervous? I mean, if they see me mess up-”

“Don’t worry. They didn’t go to our school, they’re not rooting for us, so they don't care. They won’t be watching us, It’ll be fine.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught someone smiling at you. Your hitting partner, doubles partner, and best friend, Annaliese.

“Maybe you can get Tashi’s autograph after you win.” She chimed in, reaching across the aisle and nudging your foot playfully with hers.

You couldn’t help but smile back. “Maybe.”

–

Patrick groaned as he leaned back in his seat. The past few matches had been a shitshow. All three girls from the same college had lost badly and another girl from that same school was coming on, ready to be thrown to the wolves.

“Ugh, I can’t watch anymore. This is just depressing. It’s a miracle they even qualified. Let’s take a break and wait for some other schools to play, grab some lunch or something. I’m starving.” He remarked.

Tashi sighed in annoyance, but she knew he was right. So, she began to collect her things. She grabbed her purse and right as she stood up to get out of her seat, the players for the next match were introduced. She glanced over at the court, gazing over at the girls briefly, before she paused.

There was something familiar about the player for the losing school, but she couldn’t place it. Tashi watched as she strided onto the court, beaming as the announcers introduced her. She waved and blew kisses to the crowd, smiling from ear to ear, as if she hadn’t just witnessed her friends get destroyed in their previous matches. She was different. She was confident. Or at least, she was pretending to be, putting up a front and hiding her fear. Unlike her peers, who were practically shaking in their boots whenever the ball came near them.

“Tash, c’mon let’s go. I don’t want to sit around and watch another blood bath.” Patrick called out to her, but she didn’t move, focused on the girl on the court.

She turned away from the crowd as she unzipped her bag, pulling out her racket. Tashi watched as she stretched, studying her and her figure. There was a tattoo on her upper back, between her shoulder blades of a smiling sun.

And then it clicked.

Sunshine.

Growing impatient, Patrick began to take off. Tashi grabbed his arm, stopping him before he could walk away. “Wait, I know her.”

“What?” He stopped, dumbfounded.

“I know her. She won the Junior’s US Open in 2020. Sunshine. That’s what they called her.”

The last time Tashi watched her, she liked what she saw. She even thought about recruiting her, but she was far too busy juggling careers, helping Art finish out his last season, training Patrick for his next, while also navigating her marriage after what went down at the Challengers at New Rochelle. She followed her through articles and posted statistics, until she heard about her knee injury a few months later. It was devastating, a tragic end to her career before it even started.

But there she stood on the court, as good as new, like it had never happened.

Intrigued, Patrick sat back down beside her, watching the match unfold. She had grown since Tashi had seen her. She was even more beautiful, more strong and more explosive, her thighs bulging as she ran to return the serves. Her technique had improved as well, her movements much more methodical and precise. She was perfect.

The match went by quickly, with her winning every set. Once it finished, Tashi gazed over at Patrick, who seemed completely awestruck by the match that just occurred.

She smirked at him. “Looks like we found their miracle.”

–

Tashi stood in front of her mirror, rubbing cream over her legs. She ran her fingers over the scar on her knee, before pulling away.

“Hey.” Art greeted, entering their bedroom.

Tashi glanced over her shoulder at him. “Hey. Patrick ran to the store, so he won’t be here for a while. Is Lily down?”

“She’s knocked out cold. All that splashing around in the pool must’ve gotten to her.” He remarked with a small smile.

She hummed in response, screwing the jar close, and shutting the bathroom light off. Art gazed at her warily, trying to get a read on her. “So, how was your day? How were the semifinals?”

“It was good. Stanford made it to the finals.” She took a seat on the bed, next to him.

“That’s good.” He curled his arms around her and kissed down her neck.

“Yeah, but there’s this girl from the opposing college that I’ve got my eye on. She won the Junior open back in 2020. She’s pretty good. I think we’ll have fun watching her tomorrow.”

She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. Art didn’t miss that look in her eyes. He didn’t miss that hunger. That fire. He hadn’t seen it in a long time. He thought finally, after all the awards he and Patrick had won, she would be satisfied. Ready to settle down once and for all. But it seemed like this girl really did a number on her.

He hopes that nothing more will come from this girl after the match tomorrow. That she’ll watch, get her fill, and let it go. That she’ll stay happy with her life as it is now, working with the foundation and continuing to coach young girls there, and putting her family before tennis. Art trusts her. He knows she’ll do the right thing.

So why can’t he fight the dread gnawing at his chest?

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greenbubblefactory · 4 months ago

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Matchup for @a-kind-pandemic-disaster

Congratulations you have a match with..

Idia Shroud !

★At first glance, you and Idia might seem like an odd pairing,him, a socially anxious shut-in with an aversion to anything remotely resembling human interaction, and you, a quiet but motherly presence who’s patient to a fault. But in reality? You two fit together almost too well, like characters in a slow-burn romance visual novel that he swears he totally hasn’t been imagining in his head.

★The first time he meets you, Idia is convinced you’re a background character from an eerie, gothic-themed otome game. Your aesthetic dark academia meets pastel goth completely captivates him, though he’s far too awkward to say so outright. Instead, he just stares a little too long before quickly hiding behind his tablet, sending Ortho out to do most of the talking while he tries to figure out how to interact with someone who looks that cool. He might even mumble something like, “Ugh, why does this feel like the setup to a tragic romance route? If this were an anime, I’d be doomed.”

★Despite his initial hesitance, Idia is drawn to your presence, partially because you’re not overly pushy and partially because he can sense that you, too, prefer quieter spaces. You don’t force him to step too far outside his comfort zone, and that alone makes you one of the safest people he’s ever met. And then there’s the moment he learns that you’re a writer. A horror and romance writer.

★At that point, Idia is both intrigued and horrified. On one hand, he’s deeply impressed,your ability to weave eerie, unsettling narratives is the kind of thing that could rival top-tier visual novel scripts. On the other hand, he’s paranoid.What if you write villains that are way too attractive? WHAT IF YOU BASE YOUR CHARACTERS ON REAL PEOPLE?? He panics for a full three hours before Ortho convinces him to just ask you about it like a normal person.

★When he finally works up the courage, Idia is surprised by how easily he can talk to you about horror. Despite being a total scaredy-cat when it comes to jumpscares, he’s the type who will stay up until 4 AM deep-diving into horror game lore, and now? Now he has someone to rant to about his theories. He even starts reading your work in secret, claiming he’s just skimming it, but then sending you random messages at 2 AM like:

★"Okay, so first of all, how dare you write such an insanely good plot twist? And second of all, if I have nightmares, you’re dealing with them."

★And then there’s gaming. Idia practically malfunctions when he finds out you love gaming as much as he does. He’s usually too anxious to play with people in real life, but with you? It’s different. You don’t judge him when he gets too competitive, you’re patient when he rambles about obscure mechanics, and you’re just as content as he is to spend hours co-op grinding. He low-key starts treating gaming sessions with you like dates, even though he’s too embarrassed to admit it. If you ever make a slideshow game specifically for him, that’s it. That’s the moment he realizes he’s completely and utterly doomed. He keeps every single one of them, even the goofy ones, and will occasionally replay them when he misses you.

★Idia also relates to your struggles in a way that most people wouldn’t. As someone who’s also neurodivergent, he understands the exhaustion that comes from masking, the way overworking can become a coping mechanism, and how easy it is to trust the wrong people. He tries not to be obvious about it, but he’ll start looking out for you in small ways reminding you to take breaks, hacking into NRC’s system to lighten your workload (not that he’d ever admit it), and casually “forgetting” to log off when he knows you’re up late with insomnia, just so you won’t feel alone.

★Your relationship is built on mutual understanding. He doesn’t force you to socialize more than you’re comfortable with, and you don’t pressure him to step too far outside his bubble. But at the same time, you help each other grow. You remind him that it’s okay to take small steps toward the outside world, and in return, he teaches you the beauty of existing in your own little space without guilt.

★And if anyone ever tries to take advantage of your kindness? Oh, they better be ready. Idia may not be the type to fight people outright, but he will ruin them digitally. He may not always know how to express his affection verbally, but his actions whether it’s tweaking an algorithm to make sure you never get bad gacha pulls or programming a custom AI to read you horror stories late at night speak volumes.

★To everyone else, he might just be NRC’s most reclusive, gaming-obsessed shut-in. But to you? He’s your favorite co-op partner, your biggest (secret) fan, and the one person who truly gets you.

★Idia is your chaotic, nerdy gremlin who understands your struggles and shows his love through digital devotion and quiet companionship.

English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there are any spelling mistakes!

#matchup #twisted wonderland matchup #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud twst #twisted wonderland idia #idia x reader #twst idia #Idia Shroud x you

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nattikay · 3 months ago

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Evolution of my fursona/art style over the past 15 years. Say what you will, but I genuinely think fursonas as a concept are a fascinating form of self-expression and just find it interesting to look back and track the changes of not only my art skills/style but also of the way I chose to present myself at various points in my life.

I had two distinct art "phases" during my teenage years. The first one was around middle school, in which I was your standard cringy furry kid on the internet with a plethora of brightly-colored Mary Sue OCs.

The second one was around high school and into college, at which point I got more serious about art (preparing to apply for the BYU animation program) and decided that I was too Mature™ for unnaturally colored characters, among other things (that's where I changed Natti's color scheme from blue to brown, and there were also a few years where she was actually changed to entirely white with no markings, though that iteration never got a ref sheet and therefore isn't represented here).

In retrospect I actually kinda view the second phase as cringier than the first. I don't regret the phase—I think it was overall beneficial to my art journey and I definitely learned a lot during it—I just wish I hadn't had such a stick up my butt about it. I wouldn't have worded it this way at the time, but I looking back I definitely had it in my head that I was a Special And Good Artist for figuring out that unrealistic colorful characters are Not Okay for whatever reason, and I lowkey looked down my nose at younger artists who "hadn't figured it out yet", which....yeeeeeeeah, that attitude was pretty cringe. But that's teenagers for ya, I suppose.

Anyways, I find it pretty fascinating that by complete coincidence, the current iteration of my fursona—who I designed as an adult and whose design has remained stable for around seven years now—happens to represent the color schemes of her iterations from both of those eras: the blue whimsy of the middle school iterations, and the brown and white of her high school iterations.

This wasn't intentional—fun fact, the reason the current version of my fursona has the white/brown/blue color scheme is that when I initially went to design her I was aiming for a dilute calico pattern, with the gray stylized to blue. I wound up abandoning the calico idea because I couldn't nail down a splotch pattern I was satisfied with, but kept the colors.

Yet despite the fact that it's coincidence, it's still pretty cool that my current fursona has those elements of all her predecessors, because it's as if all those phases and experiences and growth have come together to form the person I am now and it's represented visually.

It's also interesting how her design changed so often when I was a kid/teenager, but now as an adult it's stabilized.

like, idk, maybe I'm just looking wayyyy too deep into things here, but I feel like there's some sort of psychology at play lol. But who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#there are actually three more iterations of this character that I used at some point #but for some reason or other those versions never got ref sheets #or if they did have ref sheets I don't have them anymore #oh well #apologies for waxing introspective on your dash #...but also this is my personal blog and I can post what I want so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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leafdragon16 · 1 month ago

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So another idea came to mind just now

For Wheeljack's facial mods I heard you're still working on their structure and such. May I present my reference? I've been using a wasp mandible reference for the the way I've been drawing your wheeljack. It also reminded me of preying mantis and tiger beetle. Thought about how his jaws were supposed to split apart, and it gave me an idea.

I did a few concepts of my own and settled on this for his jaws. It's not exactly canon to your design, but I wanted to do my own take on it and wanted to know your thoughts! Just thought this was pretty cool :D Here's a little bit of what I had in mind!

This fic just has me locked in and has given me so many ideas and I love it so much

NECRO. GRIPPING YOUR SHOULDERS. NECRO OH MY GOD THIS IS ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE

Ok normal for exactly 2 seconds because I started rambling and drew some small diagrams so I’m putting it under the cut because this got LONG (and it also is looking like it won’t initially post with the readmore TUMBLR so I will probably go back and edit this post a few times upon posting it lol)

EDIT: Okay it is not posting the readmore for some reason so apologies for any nuked dashboards lol

I WILL ANSWER YOUR QUESTION BUT LET ME FREAK OUT ABOUT THAT ART REALLY QUICK BECAUSE I HAD TO SIT DOWN AND PROCESS IT FOR A FULL 30 SECONDS BEDORE I COULD EVEN BEGIN FORMULATING A RESPONSE. I KEEP SCROLLING BACK UP WHILE TYPING JUST TO STARE AT IT

THAT IS TERRIFYING. HE IS ALL TEETH!! THERE IS NOTHING BUT TEETH IN THERE!!! THERE IS TOO MANY TEETH FOR ANYONE TO RIGHTFULLY HAVE WHICH IS EXACTLY THE AMOUNT OF TEETH EX!JACKIE SHOULD HAVE!!!

ALSO THE CIRCULAR SCRAPLET TEETH FAINTLY VISIBLE AT THE BACK OF HIS THROAT?? OH MY GOD?? I HAVE BEEN STRUGGLING TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO PORTRAY THAT FOR SO LONG I AM LOSING MY MIND. I AM STICKING MY HEAD IN THERE

OH AND THE ADDED DETAIL OF THE PLACES WHERE HIS JAWS CONNECT ADDS SO MUCH. I DON’T KNOW HOW TO EXPLAIN IT BUT IT LOOKS SO MUCH MORE RAW AND MONSTROUS AND NOT CYBERTRONIAN AND EGHFGRHGFHSGDHFHBDGRFRGRGRGGRR

Ok I will move on to my explanation now but thank you so much!! This is so gorgeous and I love it so much!! This is the sort of thing that would make someone hide their face for centuries and give their teammates nightmares if they were looking it dead in the face (looking at you Ratchet). This is exactly the level of terrifying that I was going for when I originally started writing this fic. It encapsulates it perfectly! He is an absolute nightmare in the best way possible

I have been having a lot of trouble figuring out how his facial mods would work, and that’s mainly because I haven’t been using any references LOL. When I first tried doodling his face wayyyy back in the first post about this AU I used a few screenshots of Terrorcon Breakdown, but I only used it loosely. I absolutely LOVE the insect references for his jaws, it really helps clarify the structure and when I opened the ask and saw them (particularly the mantis) I went “huh that’s actually really close to what I had in mind!” And the got completely blown away by the concept at the bottom LMAO

I originally based his facial mods (or at least how they unhinge) a lot on Predaking. His jaw splits down the middle and at the sides to create two halves (I THINK), and I thought it looked really cool so I wanted to do something like that. But especially now that I’ve been playing with how his jaw works again, I’ve been thinking that it would be better if it splits into three parts like how you drew it. It is more visually cohesive, and it also just makes more sense looking at it! It allows his lower jaw to drop down much further and his mouth to open much wider and just in general isn’t as awkward. I may have downloaded your art both to keep it forever and also to draw a few diagrams, I hope you don’t mind^^

(I had to take a screenshot of your art bc Tumblr won’t let me download it until I post this, so sorry for nuking the quality LMAO)

While I do like the Predaking jaw, I think it works on Predaking but not on Wheeljack because Predaking’s face is so long and his is so flat. So if his jaw were to split into only two parts it would be very awkward, you can see all the lines in the drawing on the left where I kept redrawing his jaw because conceptually it didn’t make sense. Like I mentioned before it also doesn’t really allow his jaw to unhinge, which is a very important part of his design lol.

On the right however, it splits a lot more cleanly! It just all around looks more natural and less awkward and has a lot more maneuverability. I also love the addition of the teeth on the walls/sides of his mouth!! I added a few in my references bc it looked better and made his jaw come together a bit more in it’s horrifying-ness, but the addition of even MORE teeth just amplifies that. It also implies that when he latches on to something, all of the teeth dig in and make it extremely difficult to pull away, allowing him to just drag it into his mouth and shred it to pieces. If he bites down on someone, even if they’re strong enough to pull away they’re not getting their limb back in one piece. The way the teeth are curved in will ensure that they have to rip through their own plating to get away. He looks like a living iron maiden and I am OBSESSEDD

Plus the way his jaw splits is so much more extreme in a way that is so. LOOK AT HIM. When he opens his mouth it’s like a giant tear separates the upper half of his face from the lower half. Horrifying to behold and also looks like it would be painful even though it isn’t, which is exactly the vibe I was going for. He just doesn’t look Cybertronian. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Anyway sorry for the long rant, his jaws have been on my mind a lot because I’ve been struggling with the concept so I kind of just dumped all of the thoughts I’ve been having for 2+ weeks plus all of the thoughts I had when seeing your references and art. If you don’t mind I may be borrowing the references because they really do help illustrate how a split jaw would work. And also if you don’t mind this may be the canon design from now on, just because IT’S SO COOL!! And it makes so much sense conceptually, I actually cannot put into words how much I love this. It fits right in with the worldbuilding!

TLDR: Absolutely god tier take on his design thank u Necro

#MY GIANT CAT OCTOPUS INSECT GARBAGE DISPOSAL LITTLE GUY!!! HE LOOKS SO COOL!! HE IS SO SILLY!!#tw body horror #cw body horror #tw bugs #ask to tag #experiment!wheeljack #experiment!wheeljack au #EXW au #Horror Show #quadracon #<- should I make this a tag? I’m making this a tag #tfp wheeljack #transformers prime #tfp #transformers #maccadam #leaf speaks #not my art #fanart #I WILL ASK YOU THE SAME QUESTION I ASKED CEDAR #CAN I PUT A LINK TO THIS IN THE NEXT CHAPTER #WITH CREDIT OFC #OUGH I AM STILL GOING CRAZY ABOUT THIS I LIED AT THE END I DID NOT PUT DOWN ALL MY THOUGHTS IT’S JUST THAT MY OTHER THOUGHTS HAVE NOT BEEN #RATIONALIZED BEYONG INCOHERENT SCREAMING #HE LOOKS SO FERAL!!!#HE LOOKS LIKE HE’S ABOUT TO EAT SOMEONE AND THEN HAVE CATHOLIC LEVELS OF GUILT ABOUT IT!!!#AND I KNOW I’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT HIS MOUTH MAINLY BUT ALL OF THIS IS INCREDIBLE #YOU HAVE AN AMAZING GRIP ON PROPORTIONS ESPECIALLY WITH TRANSFORMERS #AND HIS EYES. THE SHAPE OF HIS EYES AND HOW DEEP SET THEY LOOK IS MAKING ME GO CRAZY #IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT BUT THEY ARE SO SHAPED AND MAKE HIM LOOK EVEN MORE FERAL AND I AM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH

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affectionate-team · 2 years ago

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Another day, another log-in. The doors of Ramshackle open up once more to welcome their dear resident - their Yuu, their player.

Representatives from all dorms wait with bated breath, wondering who's going to get lucky and be allowed to give their welcoming speech this time. Some are confident, head held high and proud, words sitting at the tip of their tongue, ready to be spilled; others are anxious, fidgeting with parts of their uniform and checking themselves in a mirror - such an occasion requires one to look their best, all to make a good impression on you! And, after a few torturous seconds of waiting, spotlight lands on one of the many. Their face gleams under jealous stares of their disappointed schoolmates, a single bead of sweat rolling down the nape and bringing cool air to their skin. Everything has to be perfect for the player, and perfect it is - the words that have been rehearsed hundreds of time in the privacy of their room, the face expressions, the gestures - as they voice out wishes for another productive day and offer the log-in rewards.

To be chosen as a class partner is both a blessing and a curse. Rejoice those who have skills and smarts to demonstrate and brag about, poor are those who fall behind in studies. Leona suddenly finds a reason to skip out on a midday nap in favor of sitting out a history lesson, surprising both his classmates and Professor Trein. From time to time he even bothers to speak out, interrupting some poor kid - not like they'll do anything about it, a Kingscholar is not a force to be reckoned with; Azul and Riddle stare each other down, lifting hands at every question at the speed of light, completing tasks flawlessly, outshining everybody else with their vast knowledge to the point where teachers have to ignore them on purpose - after all, other students need their marks too... Though it doesn't stop the two from flaunting their exams results after finals roll around.

What do you mean "Twisted wonderland is not a romance visual novel"? Do they look like they care? Even the heaviest of Disney censor will not stop these boys from sneaking in a couple of flirty remarks. They WILL go against code if they have to. And if main story cannot be messed with, events are still a fair game, are they not? Watch Ace throw in bold pick-up lines and inquire about your type; it's the fifth time you're inviting him in the guest room, do you have a crush on him or something?? don't get shy now, of course he's just teasing! It's a shame that your choice of answers is so limited, the game brushes off his words way too easily...

And don't get me started at the Magic Mirror summons. To be selected as a member of the player's team is an honor like no other - that means their strength was recognized. Though some card combinations can be pretty... questionable. Placing, say, Leona and Malleus or Floyd and Riddle in one team would most likely result in a mess; be careful with your choice!

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yuurei's fics #self aware twst #just a mindless ramble #I was bored and decided to write this #:p #WHY DID TUMBLR FUCK MY EDITING UP SO HARD?????#I'm raging it looked so ridiculous

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naomijoestar · 5 months ago

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hiii!!! could i perchance ask for Bucci gang hcs of them finding reader in the bathroom at like 2am with a full face of vkei makeup ^^ if it’s not too much to ask !!!

p.s. i srs love your work so much <33

Masterlist here <3

I am soso glad you enjoy my work!🥹 I hope you enjoy this as well ❤️

Bucci gang react to walking in on you in full vkei makeup

Bruno Bucciarati

- He doesn’t even question it at first. Bruno is half-asleep, and his only concern is whether or not you’re okay

- “Do you feel sick? Wait… why are you so sparkly?” He rubs his eyes, takes a closer look, and just blinks at you in confusion

- He thinks you look stunning, but he has no idea why you decided to do this at such an ungodly hour. He calmly asks, “Would you like some tea?” as if tea is the solution to everything

- Ends up complimenting your eyeliner technique before reminding you to get some rest. “You’re talented, but don’t overwork yourself, okay? Good night, cara.”

Narancia Ghirga

- Narancia screams. Loudly. Like, actually screams

- He thought you were some kind of ghost or demon haunting the bathroom and nearly threw his shoe at you

- Once he realizes it’s just you, he bursts into laughter. “Why do you look like a rock star? Are you in a band now?”

- He insists you let him try the makeup, too. “C’mon, do mine! I’d look cool, right? Like, super edgy!”

- You two spend the next hour giving him a matching visual kei look. By the time you’re both done, it’s almost sunrise, and he’s taking blurry selfies in the mirror

Guido Mista

- Mista sleepily waddles into the bathroom, sees you, and freezes mid-step

- “…Is this a dream, or are you auditioning for some gothic opera?” He’s genuinely torn between being impressed and confused

- Immediately whips out his phone to snap a picture. “The guys are never gonna believe this. You look like you belong in a magazine!”

- Tries to convince you to let him borrow your eyeliner. “C’mon, lemme try it. If I look half as good as you, everyone will think I’m cool!” Spoiler: he smudges it everywhere

Giorno Giovanna

- Giorno walks in completely unfazed. If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it

- “ You look… unique,” he says, in his usual calm tone. But then he tilts his head and adds, “Is this part of a new artistic project?”

- Genuinely admires your skills and asks thoughtful questions about your inspiration. “How did you get the eyeshadow to blend so perfectly? It’s quite impressive.”

- Somehow convinces you to explain the concept of visual kei in-depth at 2 a.m., and by the end of it, he’s recommending color palettes and outfits for your next look

Leone Abbacchio

- Abbacchio stumbles into the bathroom half-asleep, muttering about how you’re being too loud

- When he sees your face, he just stares for a solid ten seconds. Then, with the straightest face imaginable, he says, “What the hell are you doing?”

- He’s absolutely not letting this go. “It’s two in the morning. Do you even know what time it is? What possessed you to turn yourself into a glam rock zombie right now?”

- Despite his grumpiness, he thinks you look kind of cool but will never admit it. If you tease him, he’ll roll his eyes and walk off while muttering, “Kids these days…”

Pannacotta Fugo

- Fugo is baffled. He stares at you with the most exasperated look imaginable

- “Why? Just… why?” He’s trying to process why you’re awake, why you’re in the bathroom, and why you look like you’re about to join a gothic rock band

- He starts lecturing you. “It’s two in the morning. You need to sleep. This can wait until daylight, don’t you think?”

- Secretly, he’s impressed by your creativity but won’t admit it because he’s too busy being the responsible one. “At least wash your face before bed. Makeup isn’t good for your skin overnight.”

Trish Una

- Trish is instantly wide awake when she sees you. She gasps, “Oh my god, you look incredible!”

- She’s fully supportive of your midnight makeup escapades and starts gushing about your blending skills and color choices.

- “You have to let me try this! I want to match with you!” She insists on doing her own visual kei look right then and there

- By 3 a.m., the two of you are in full glam, taking dramatic pictures with moody lighting in the bathroom

If you’d like anything tweaked just let me know! Also I want to let you all know that whenever I write these silly scenarios with the “reckless teenagers late nights” vibe I enjoy writing Abbacchios’ reactions the most lol! So I might rewrite this as a full scenario for Abbacchio!👀

If you enjoyed this make sure to check out my other posts, and if you’d like anything specific written for a jjba character/squad you can request it if my requests are open!

#jjba scenarios #jjba scenario #jojos bizarre adventure #jjba #jojo no kimyou na bouken #mista x reader #narancia x reader #abbacchio x reader #bucciarati x reader #giorno x reader #fugo x reader #trish una x reader #bucci gang #bucci gang x reader #bucci gang headcanons #bucci gang scenario #bucci gang scenarios

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arty-holly · 9 months ago

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I caught up with the bllk manga and it is a 5 course meal with the way it is serving rn.

Rin's moment came and it is mind blowingly perfect. I could’nt ask for more and there are so many delicious details it's terrific.

The title of this chapter is very interesting to me for reasons. Because Rin as a character is shown to be connected with death and suicide. Infact his 1st character defining line is " Soccer is a battle to the death". Later we find the seed of this thinking in little Rin. He's a weirdo who flings himself at pigeons at toy blocks and a completely opposite mentality to the other kids. The ultimate monster who fights someone stronger, gives his all, and then dies is incredibly cool to him. He hopes to be someone like him in the future . So is it really coincidence if the title of his chapter has a clever wordplay with a famous author who was also suicidal and who wrote a book called " No longer human"?

Now Dazai Osamu was an remarkable author and coincidentally (those who watched Bsd will know) he strived to do double suicides with the women he was in love with. So is it really coincidence that the words that comes out of Isagi’s mouth are " I'll die with you!"? Are y'all seeing what I'm seeing?👀

Moving on, just the general remarkable-ness of these recent chapters is blowing my mind.

To see Isagi, the master adapter, arguably the best person in Blue lock who can analyze others to perfection floundering at the anomaly that is Itoshi Rin is so great. This is the first and only time Isagi has been unable to decipher the thought process of another person to this extent. It's gonna make the time when he does get through Rin so much more satisfying. 💚

And its too sad that Rin is so chained in by his feelings that he can't kick a goal his teammates would kill to have because of his own mind( bro needs a therapist). It's so baffling to others watching from the outside, but to Rin, it makes perfect sense. It's the way he's almost begging for someone to come, someone to break in and-

The image of Isagi literally swiping away Sae’s phantom, almost reassuring him that he's here, he's real is so beautiful. When Rin is about to lose everything, Isagi is the one who is there. I'm pretty sure Loki would've benched Rin if he threw away a goal again, so Isagi is the reason Rin is still playing in this match. Just the visual framing in this panel is too good.

Do I need to say more?

The way Isagi's eyes look so bright, giving hope to Rin. Rin's EXPRESSION 😭(Bring in the shoujo flower petals)

Tell me this isn't poetic beauty, come in my face and tell me this isn't the epitome of romance.

Regardless if it is romantic or platonic, I still adore the way they're written into each other’s arcs. I wasn't the one to notice this, but if Isagi had collided into Rin and Rin had not scored, Isagi would've been red-carded instead of being let off with a yellow card. ( His head was definitely not all there in this moment)Isagi Yoichi, thank your stars your lover is a genius , bro would've been cooked otherwise.

And at the end,

We see the old Rin again, finally enjoying the game he worked his entire life for. (Off topic, but he looks so cute and gorgeous here) and the catalyst for that is none other than our protagonist.

Isagi is the light that brings hope to Rin and Rin is the centre, the ideal for Isagi’s growth. They saved each other.

All of NEL hasn't been exactly amazing but Kaneshiro's writing peaked in these chapters. There is so much said in every panel, so much emotion expressed in each drawing, It's incredible.

#these losers made me write my 1st fic and a post like this #no but srsly Rin has never looked so gorgeous before and the blood dripping down just ties it up together #Rinsagi #Isagi Yoichi #Itoshi Rin #Blue lock #my post

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yubellia · 5 months ago

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OH MY GOSH! Season 6 is here! And Cerise/Lila whoever was super creepy and amazing!

„Nothing. Hah. Nothing. You know nothing about me, about us, about them. I‘m everywhere. I‘m nowhere. I‘m a chameleon. Nowhere. You won‘t get anywhere.“

——~~~——

Not gonna lie, I really don‘t like what they did to Marinette. The girl is struggling…. We get that…. But did they really have to make her act like this? She can‘t even really keep it together als Ladybug anymore. She can be lucky that the miraculous prevents people from noticing the obvious similarities.

But back to Cerise! We don‘t see her face in the entire episode. We only have her voice but that’s enough already. After all, sound is almost more important than visuals. What would Micheal Myers be without the iconic sound. Try it. Mute the movies. It won‘t work.

But anyway. I wonder, when she akumatized that girl, this is how she handles things. She just talks and offers a solution like a good friend. Siding with her victim. She doesn’t even demand anything. No „I’ll give you that power. In return I want Ladybugs and Chat Noirs miraculous!“ No. None of that!

Also, the camera zoomed in, almost like we were going into the victims head. Is this what actually happens to you, when you get akumatized? Bah! Imagine having Gabriel in your head like that! No sir. Thank you!

Could it be, that up until now, we saw the whole process from the outside? That would be so cool. It would also mean that Cerise clearly….. goes deeper that Gabriel could.

Also, we learned something very important. Apparently, they don‘t know better yet, Cerise akumatizes people randomly without the goal to attack. She just lets them cause chaos and the heroes come out. At first.

We also learn that Cerise writes EVERYTHING down!! Like girl, be careful with your hand! That must hurt! Also she technically creates tons of evidence. If she looses ONE of those notebooks, it’s game over. Unless she writes in code….. would not be surprised.

Also the end of the episode, where she is in the café „Nothing. Hah. Nothing. You know nothing about me, about us, about them. I‘m everywhere. I‘m nowhere. I‘m a chameleon. Nowhere. You won‘t get anywhere.“

I am not sure if she completely lost it NOW, if she ALWAYS was crazy like this, or, with her disguises and all, she is completely stating the truth.

But I know one thing.

I LOVE HER FOR IT!! I can‘t wait to actually see her! Also it seems like she upgraded her miraculous, just like Marinette did with all the others. At least that’s what I heard, could be a leak. She got the guardians book too after all from Nathalie in that one episode, together with all of Gabriel’s secrets.

So yeah… the new season started…. A bit meh. I really wish they could have given us the REAL first episode. But it seems like there is something wrong with the continuity anyway. Alya and Nino interviewed Sublime‘s mom, but she didn’t appear yet…. Strange….

But anyway, we might be missing some lore here.

I am still excited for more.

#miraculous ladybug #lila rossi #miraculous cerise #miraculous lila #cerise bianca #miraculous #miraculous ladybug theory #miraculous theory #miraculous season 6

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redd956 · 1 month ago

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Chronic (Chpt, 2)

Content: Whump, Angst, Hero x Villain, "Sickfic", Fever, Nightmares, Villain Whumpee, Hero Caretaker, Sci-Fi Fantasy, Whumper to Caretaker, Medical Whump, Multiple Whumpers.

CWs: Hallucinations, Nightmares, Needles, Mild Vomiting, Restrains, Chains

Chapter One: [x]

Chapter Three: [x]

Word Count: 2926

Not Forgotten

The wounds of his arm grew cold, feeling alike to mint pressed to the teeth, the antivenom working it’s icy job. It was easy to ignore. Dexter sighed out a held breath, and pressed back through the front door. Al remained curled in the same position on the couch.

When he earlier snuck inside, every cell of his body felt foreign from himself, telling him he was an invader. He was breaching a sacred sanctuary, stomping on the grounds of simple-life dreams. Now he was doing it again.

At least this time he had “righteous” reasons too. He had made a promise. Whether or not Al wanted that promise was a completely different question, but Dexter assured himself he was righting a wrong. That’s how you make things equal… right?

Al shivered in his sleep. He tightly hugged around his himself, the subconscious mind searching for warmth. Coiled so far in on himself, his nose about touched his knees. A whistling snore interrupted the soft whirring of the rural home’s heating and plumbing systems. Tank fell asleep at the foot of the couch he slept on.

Dexter needed to double-check what he felt earlier, placing his full palm against Al’s head. It burned warmer already. Sweat plastered loose hair to the side of his head.

At the buzzing sensation of unexpected touch, Dexter watched him try to stir. Heavy eyelids raised for a moment. They revealed the irises underneath, and as quickly lost their strength and closed. He released a murmured hum, attempting to turn his head away from the reaching hand.

It had been several hours. As much as Dexter reminded himself how much less hassle work would be if Al mysteriously stopped showing up as a mission target, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Trying to pass the time he caught himself shifting glances back to him.

Eventually, the continuing hours lured him into poking and prodding, trying to rouse Al awake. He tried to speak quietly, “You’re burning up.”

Al opened his eyes just enough to get a general blurry silhouette of Dexter. He hissed and winced, staying awake but allowing himself to clench his eyes shut. Without visualizing his own body he understood where all the pain radiated from. Each movement felt stiff, like drawing his arm through fast underwater current.

“Why are you still here?” He grumbled half-inaudibly through worn vocal chords.

Trying to unfurl his hands failed. His fingers twitched in inflexible sluggish manner, meeting their halting point too early, yet feeling that airiness of once being able to go further.

Being awake for these few seconds wasn’t worth trying to shoo Dexter out of his house. He felt how hot his temperature burned through his own breath, feeling like steam underneath his nose. Random muscles kept spasming, their movements sore, knotted, and striking.

The coolness of Dexter’s shadow still loomed over him. Dexter answered, “I can’t just leave you alone like this.”

“I want to sleep. You got what you wanted”, Al groaned. Words were exhausting. He tried to ignore how flushed the facets of his face felt, but he knew Dexter could see it.

“I will it’s just-” He practiced finding his words, “Just let me take care of this.”

Silence consumed the tail end of that last part, reverberating in both of their minds. Dexter admitted to himself there was something more to this than his own moral qualms. Here he was sat on the floor in his archrival’s house, staring at him, holding too much concern in his own worries.

Al must’ve realized too. His face scrunched up, as he tried to angle his squinted eyes to get clear enough vision and see Dexter’s expression.

“What’s wrong with you? Are you sure that bite didn’t scramble your brain already?”

“I just want to right this, and well look at yourself, you’re shivering.”

Al couldn’t argue with that, and he closed his eyes praying that Dexter would grow bored and just go back to whatever facility he lived in anyway.

Now even in sleep Al's eyebrows were furrowed in anger. Playing hero after trying out the villain, Dexter comes up with dumber ideas by every encounter. A small part of Al though hoped he’d still be there when he awoke again.

For a moment he was staring into the back of his eyelids, and in the next he stood in an empty field; barren of flowers, trees, and life.

Even the grass was all dead. He stared at his feet, recognizing the shoes of his childhood self. That would explain why the grass wasn’t yellow and crunchy, but instead gray and moist, laden with a clay-like sediment.

All the details were in place compared to his memories. Here now, the other kids would come up over the hill behind him shouting.

“Stop being such a coward!”

“Where are you running to?”

“Give up already.”

Al held his hand to his chest, reaching for the rapid thumping of his heart. Through asthma he wheezed and shuddered. Refusing to turn back, he continued to stumble forward breaking into sprint yet again.

He heard quick rushing steps behind him, but they grew quieter as he came to the fence, leaped up and threw himself over. His knees dipped as he landed to his feet on the other side.

The others didn’t follow, and yet he continued to run until the fatigue built thick within his shins, he was losing chances of breath, and the gray grass now shined a brilliant silver.

This is how it went in every iteration. Al knew it well. Outrunning them, jumping the fence, failing to find his inhaler, pulling the pockets inside-out of his jacket and then pants. Desperate, he staggered forward wandering deeper into the exclusion zone.

Something was off this time.

He didn’t notice it at first, how his breathing returned to him, how the abandoned building never showed up in the daze of growing fog. No, the fog only became thicker. It transformed into an obscuring miasma of panic. Inhaling brought terror into his lungs. Breathing would bring about her.

Al spun on his heels trying to find out which way was backwards. No matter where he ran the darkness consumed his surroundings, the fog no longer a blinding mist but something touchable, frigid and wriggling.

“Aren’t you happy to see me again?” She spoke in a cold disappointed tone.

Clawing at the air, he tried to separate it, his hands sloshing through the darkness. A hand appeared from the thin air, snatching him by the collar and pulling him through the substance. Familiar pavement met his hands on the other side.

“No- please!” He rushed forward, being yanked to a halt by the chain connected to the thick metal collar that was suddenly around his neck.

The longer he begged the more the room became suffocating with despair. He continued to shout at a door that no longer existed, “You can’t do this to me, we had a deal. I’ll do anything. I’ll do anything, I swear-”

It failed to clear all at once, Al’s eyes opening to find himself still dying on the couch. The sensation of betrayal stuck to him, and he swore he saw flickers of the cell every time his eyes closed. Trying to see through the blurry world conjuring before him, one dark silhouette turned clear enough to decipher.

Dexter’s face was way too close. The man didn’t stare at him directly though, his eyes were stuck in an analytic mode, shifting left and right as if reading a book. He drew his hand away from Al, who didn’t even notice his touch, a thermometer being dragged along with it too.

Disappointment came in the form of two stern tsk-tsks. His head instinctively shook. Through a gentle whisper, he murmured, “One o’four? Dammit Al.”

Al couldn’t tell how many hours he had spent in bed, but by the stiff sensation in his joints he understood it was way too long for the average person. The fever continued to burn. He was no longer able to tell how hot his own temperature reached. All of him was in an icky sweltering fit. Unable to tell if words were coming out of his mouth or not, Al gave a delirious half-hearted whine.

He wasn't yet free from the nightmare.

“I’ll do anything… Please…”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Dexter’s voice parsed through the muffled horror Al hallucinated.

Coolness was blotted onto Al’s forehead, a few loose droplets dribbling down the side of his face. Dexter patted the wet washcloth down. He watched Al shakily attempt to relax, fighting whatever he dreamt still.

“Don’t leave me…”

Well Dexter didn’t have much of a choice now, even though he understood that Al wasn’t truly speaking towards him. He was thankful that Al wasn’t contagious, at least not in the traditional way.

The bandages around Dexter's own arms were tight, and the coolness of the working antivenom started to wear away. It left behind some sore spots. Nothing terrible. He ran his fingers across them, knowing that Al was going to kill him for what he did next.

He chewed the dry front layers off his lip, and picked his phone off the floor. For a moment he scrolled back and forth between his team contacts.

No, they’ll snitch. I can’t get her involved in this. The boss would kill me. Maybe. Definitely not. Maybe.

Finally he made a rash decision, and lifted Al into bridal carry.

Outside was another rainy night awaiting for them. In his half-witted stupor Al formed a sweet smile, his glazed over eyes opening with childish wonder towards the sky.

The cold raindrops felt divine. An uncharacteristic laugh pressed out from under his breath. He turned his face towards Dexter’s chest, nuzzling his nose in place and breathing a relieved sigh.

In Dexter’s hands Al felt like hot death. His hands were bunched up in Al’s drenched clothes, feeling the gross warm refusing to cool. He rushed down the drive, locating his car.

Al looked ridiculous in the backseat of his car. No matter how hard Dexter tried to place him upright, the man’s neck lulled and his murmured incoherent nonsense. Finally he managed to cross the seatbelt over him.

Al managed to vocalize, “Water…”

“Here.”, Dexter rummaged a water bottle off the floor of the car, bringing it up to Al’s lips. Pushing through his confusion, he desperately chugged the water, near choking. He was lightly patted on the chest, and left to brew in his delirium as Dexter started the car.

The car ride down the rural roads was eerily quiet. Dexter listened, hunched over with tense shoulders, occasionally glancing to the backseat through the rear-view mirror. Behind the horizon of forest patches was the illuminating halo of light pollution that emanated from New Malach.

Al pressed his face to the glass of the window, making a humming noise of content, his dull eyes getting raptured by the sparkling city of lights. He remained silent. Most of his energy was going to breathing, each exhale-inhale growing slowly labored.

Finally, as if the coherent him broke through a barrier of unconsciousness, he asked, his voice still broken, “Where are we going?”

“I know a place.”, If they didn’t want to be caught, this was their best option.

New Malach’s busy nights could be heard from even the inner countryside, the bustling breath of the city whistling inward through the cracked open windows. Great towering buildings stood in the hazy background of night. Blinding levels of blue light poured from the neon screens of advertisements.

They passed right underneath a pedestrian bridge, the overhanging billboard attached to the sides promising the industrial might of Entomology Corporation, the moth-lightbulb sigil, a searing symbol of protection at a cost.

These routes were child’s play to Dexter. As Al doubled-over, retching. What followed was a noise more akin to dumping bucket of water over. Al pressed his face to his knees, apologizing profusely through recovering gasps of breath. A steady stream of air never returned to him though. Dexter glanced to the mirror again to see Al pressing his hands tightly to the middle of chest.

The old building didn’t stand out against the barrage of half-abandoned industrial buildings. It had a the usual rashes of bricks that have been whitewashed by time. Iron bars encased the windows, upstairs and down.

Dexter knew that the inside would likely be untouched, even if a little bare, as the Entomology security door that marked the front entrance couldn’t be broken in by even the best of lockpicks. You'd need unbridled brute strength.

“Al?” He kept eye contact while unbuckling him. The man didn’t respond, his flushed appearance starting to appear ghostly, highlighting the dark circles dug underneath his eye sockets and the natural wrinkles that lined his face. He exuded exhaustion, but panted, too winded to close his mouth.

Dexter continued, “Stay with me for a moment here, please.”

He pried him out of his seat, pulling him back into his arms, activating the sensors of the door with the device embedded in his right cuff.

The indoors were cold enough to shock. Normally dust would inhabit such a vacant space, but it became obvious that someone visited this place often. Empty soda cans littered the floor. The metal shelves hosted an abundance of medical supplies, but the special light above the door remained dead, marking the site as inactive.

Countless times Dexter entered this forgotten Entomology retreat. He imagined the stories that once traveled into the small building. Letters were carved into the a few of the bricks right outside the second floor windows.

Much of the equipment was specially suited for specific infected that no longer reached the further sectors of the city. Either way, Dexter had a fresh stash here, and the infected before him had handled all the rest.

The nearest medical bed had to do. He splayed Al out, trying to explain, “I need to remove your shirt. You’re overheating.”

He chose to ignore the lack of response. Al was as cooperative as he was out of it, his eyes fluttering open for short spurts of time. Dexter threw the turtleneck aside. For a moment his panic evaporated. He stood taking in the week’s work against Al’s body.

There were bruises that matched Dexter’s own hands in size, and he a felt twinge of shame pull on him as he double-checked that, testing his own perception of reality. But underneath them were scars that have been there much longer. They were strange, oddly shapen, almost like letters… They didn't even full seem embedded in the skin, but floating within it.

After gulping, he tried to put them out of his mind. I didn’t make those. I didn’t make those. He prepared another cold washcloth, and begun pressing it to Al’s neck. What are these Al? It was much easier to press a needle into Al’s arm. The half-conscious man responded only to the little prickle, hissing and turning his face.

Liquids started to press through the new IV. Feeling the temperature seep into his arm, Al sighed into unconsciousness completely. Dexter finished the night with a shot medication to bring down the fever, anxiously testing Al’s forehead as if automatically the meds would wash away the heat.

Blaringly, the most annoying pop song known to man sounded from within his pockets.

Dexter jumped at the alarm of his own choice of ringtone. He fumbled, in an even greater terror, the phone from his pockets remembering who he set that overplayed song to.

Click.

“Hello- I meant- yes, sir?”

“Are you alright?” The posh foreign voice was similar in quality and age to Aldrich, but somehow so light it sounded sweet, overwhelmingly laced with concern, and refined with years worth of meticulous self-editing.

“Of course sir.”

“Angela hasn’t seen you since your antivenom injection yesterday. Surely, you didn’t go after that rogue again without formal preparations.”

“What? No, absolutely not.” Dexter was a terrible liar when it came to the boss. He could put on five star acts towards his team mates and enemies alike, but at the slightest murmur of that distinct accent, he gained newfound nervousness that poisoned his every attempt.

“Dexter, dear, I want you to know that I value your virtue of diligence. You are my most hardworking child, a true member of our family, but any decisions made regarding the suppression of aggressive and rogue infected needs to made alongside your team (and with my oversight).”

“I didn’t go after him for some pointless revenge.” That was technically true. He glanced over to Al’s sleeping form.

“That’s very good to hear.” The voice sounded artificially delighted.

There was the quiet shuffling of papers. Dexter could already envision the source of the voice pushing up their reading bifocals, and bringing a cup of tea to their lips. It added, “And you aren’t investigating the rumors of the night beast?”

“The what?!”

“Ah- very good then. Angela expects to see you by tomorrow, fourteen-hundred, not a second late. A team meeting is at sixteen-hundred, and I will see you in my room over this incident at eighteen-hundred. May the light never lose you.”

"May the light never lose you."

At that the voice hung up. Dexter sprawled out on the floor, let his phone slide across the tile. He hid his face behind his hands. I can do this. I can check on Al’s stupid farm of a house. The imagery of his boss’s mahogany desk crossed his mind.

Angela wouldn’t snitch on him twice in row, she only cared about his health is all. He did need the second antivenom shot before next midnight though, but being a little late wouldn’t kill her.

The team would likely banter for a bit, but that’s about it. A meeting with the boss? There was no room for error. It was only a matter of time before failed missions against Al ended up on the mahogany desk anyway. Dexter just hoped that his boss wasn’t as many steps ahead of Al, as he himself is.

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