#as expected the web weaves in the top | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zapreportsblog · 1 year

Note

Hey babyyyyy,

Can we do some more poly!volturi kings x reader where the reader has a great family bond with the guards? And the kings are so proud like "that's the kind of queen we needed."

This sounds perfect, hope you enjoy it ✨

↳ bonds beyond blood ↲

➘ summary : the three volturi kings are proud that their mate is getting along so well with their top guards

➘ aro x reader x caius x marcus, twilight x reader , volturi x reader

In the heart of Volterra's ancient citadel, where shadows danced and history whispered through the stones, the Volturi reigned supreme. Aro, the charismatic mastermind; Marcus, the contemplative soul; and Caius, the unyielding enforcer, ruled with an iron grip, their names synonymous with power in the supernatural realm.

But the immortal facade these kings presented to the world belied the intricate web of emotions they harbored for one human: (Y/N), a woman whose presence ignited a transformation within their centuries-old hearts.

The tale began on an unassuming evening, when (Y/N)'s fate collided with that of the Volturi. Lost in the labyrinthine streets of Volterra, she wandered into their world, unaware of the enigma that awaited her. Aro's gifted sight caught the glimpse of a mortal, a fragile soul amidst the immortal world. Intrigued, he beckoned her forward, a single interaction setting in motion a destiny no one could foresee.

As (Y/N) stood before the thrones of the three kings, her heart pounding, she couldn't ignore the inexplicable pull she felt. Aro's penetrating gaze, Marcus' contemplative demeanor, and Caius' unyielding aura seemed to draw her in, weaving a connection she struggled to understand.

The kings' curiosity grew as they observed her, each captivated by the essence she brought to their lives. Aro's laughter became more vibrant, Marcus' rare smiles more frequent, and Caius' stern façade softened in her presence. A silent understanding flowed between them, forging a bond that transcended human limitations.

While (Y/N)'s presence changed the kings, it also ignited an unexpected kinship among their loyal guards. Alec and Jane, the gifted twins who once struck fear into the hearts of enemies, found in (Y/N) a maternal figure they had never experienced. Her warmth and wisdom touched the depths of their immortal hearts, transforming their relationship into one of unwavering trust.

Felix, the formidable protector, discovered an unexpected gentleness in (Y/N), a trait that resonated deeply with his own spirit. Demetri, the master tracker, admired her determination, finding a kindred spirit in her unwavering resolve.

But it was Alec and Jane who held the most unique connection with (Y/N). With their childlike appearances frozen in time, they looked to her as a maternal figure they had never known. (Y/N) nurtured them with her wisdom, guided them with her love, and in return, the twins showered her with unwavering loyalty and adoration.

In the shadowed halls of the Volturi castle, an intricate dance of relationships unfolded. Kings and guards, vampire and human, became bound by bonds that defied tradition and expectation. (Y/N) stood at the heart of it all, an unwitting catalyst for change and unity.

As the days turned to nights, and (Y/N)'s presence continued to weave its magic, none could anticipate the challenges that lay ahead. Threats both old and new would test the strength of their bonds, and the very fabric of their existence would be shaken.

But in that moment, as the castle's stone walls whispered secrets of centuries past, the Volturi kings and their beloved human mate reveled in the newfound harmony they had forged. They were yet to understand that this harmony would become their greatest strength in the trials that awaited them.

In the heart of the grand Volturi castle, (Y/N)'s presence continued to illuminate the lives of both kings and guards. The bond she shared with Aro, Marcus, and Caius flourished, growing stronger with each passing day. It was a connection that transcended time, defying the very laws that governed their supernatural existence.

As (Y/N) navigated the intricacies of the immortal world, she found herself drawn into the lives of the twins, Alec and Jane. Their once-uncertain existence had transformed into one filled with warmth and acceptance, all thanks to the woman who looked upon them with the eyes of a guardian. She provided guidance, friendship, and a motherly love they had never experienced.

Alec and Jane, once feared for their devastating abilities, now wielded their powers with control and restraint, a testament to (Y/N)'s patient guidance. They had found in her the stability they needed, a figure of trust they could confide in and look up to.

Felix and Demetri, too, had been touched by (Y/N)'s presence. Felix's exterior, once unyielding, softened in the glow of her compassion. He had found solace in her calming influence, a touchstone of gentleness amid the tumultuous world he inhabited. Demetri, with his unerring tracking skills, marveled at (Y/N)'s strength and resilience. He respected her as an equal, an ally, and a friend.

As days turned to nights and the castle's halls echoed with secrets, (Y/N) embraced her role within the Volturi's inner circle. The kings, once distant figures of power, now confided in her their thoughts and hopes, their fears and aspirations. Their bond with her had opened a door to vulnerability, allowing them to share a side of themselves that had long remained hidden.

However, the tranquility that (Y/N) had brought to the Volturi world would soon be disrupted by shadows that lurked on the horizon. Rumors of a rising force, one that sought to challenge the very foundations of their rule, began to circulate. It was a threat that no one could ignore, and the unity forged among kings, guards, and their human mate would be put to the test.

As tension mounted, the intricate relationships woven within the castle walls would be shaken to their core. Loyalties would be questioned, and the limits of love and friendship would be pushed to their breaking point. The kings and their newfound family, bound by love rather than blood, would have to stand together to face the storm that approached.

And so, as the sun dipped below the horizon and cast long shadows across the ancient city, the Volturi prepared to confront a challenge that would either strengthen their bonds beyond measure or shatter the delicate harmony they had built. (Y/N)'s presence, once an unexpected thread in the fabric of their lives, would prove to be the source of strength that held them together in the face of adversity.

Within the towering walls of the Volturi castle, a sense of anticipation hung in the air. As (Y/N) moved through the grand halls, her steps were now accompanied by an underlying tension. The threat that loomed on the horizon was palpable, casting a shadow over the unity she had helped foster.

The kings, Aro, Marcus, and Caius, convened in their private chamber, their expressions etched with a rare mixture of concern and determination. (Y/N) was there, a steadfast presence amidst their deliberations, a living testament to the bonds they had forged.

Aro's eyes gleamed with his usual curiosity, though there was an edge of worry that betrayed his usual confidence. Marcus, ever the observer, seemed to contemplate the future with a weight that surpassed his years. Caius, the embodiment of authority, clenched his jaw, his resolve unwavering in the face of impending conflict.

Beside them, Alec and Jane stood, their faces a mirror of their guardians'. The twins who had found a maternal figure in (Y/N) were now mature beyond their years, their commitment to the family they had formed unwavering. Felix and Demetri flanked the group, their expressions a mixture of vigilance and readiness, ever prepared to defend those they held dear.

As the kings deliberated, (Y/N)'s gaze shifted to the window, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. She had become a part of this intricate tapestry, her life interwoven with those of kings and guards alike. The unity they had cultivated was a source of strength, but it was about to be tested in ways they couldn't predict.

News had reached the Volturi of a faction that sought to challenge their dominion, a group that believed their way of life was threatened by the kings' rule. The realization that their world could be on the brink of upheaval sent ripples of tension through the castle's inhabitants.

With a sense of resolve, Aro turned his gaze toward (Y/N), his voice steady yet tinged with urgency. "My dear (Y/N)," he began, "we are faced with a challenge that demands our unity. The bonds we have formed must not falter in the face of adversity."

Marcus, his usually somber eyes showing a glimmer of determination, continued, "We have faced countless challenges throughout history. Our strength lies in our ability to stand together."

Caius, the embodiment of authority, spoke with a conviction that sent shivers down the spines of all present. "We must protect what we've built, even if it means confronting those who seek to undermine us."

And so, a plan began to take shape, a strategy that relied on the unique strengths of each individual. (Y/N)'s role in this impending conflict was not to be underestimated; her presence had already proven to be a beacon of strength, a source of inspiration for those who fought beside her.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and cast long shadows across the castle walls, a sense of anticipation settled over the Volturi stronghold. Bonds forged through love and shared purpose would soon be put to the test, as the unity of kings, guards, and their human mate stood against the gathering storm.

And as the first drops of rain began to fall, (Y/N) braced herself for the challenges ahead, ready to stand by the side of those she held dear and face whatever trials fate had in store.

600 notes · View notes

doumadono · 11 months

Note

Hawks and Q! 🙏 I love your writings❤️

A/N: I thoroughly enjoyed the prompt you selected for Hawks. I trust this short, heartwarming story meets your expectations. Wishing you a wonderful day ♥ The inspiration for this ficlet came from the following post

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

You found yourself entwined in the chaotic dance of everyday life, caught up in the whirlwind of emotions that came with your relationship with the charismatic hero, Hawks. Being the freelance journalist that you were, you often found solace in the quiet moments, where your thoughts flowed freely onto the pages of your notebook.

One chilly evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you sat by the window in your cozy apartment, the city lights casting a warm glow on the pages before you. Immersed in the task at hand, you had your headphones on, delving into the intricacies of crafting an article about climate changes in Japan. The world around you faded into the background as your focus narrowed on the keyboard beneath your fingertips.

Unbeknownst to you, your phone, tucked away on the desk, buzzed intermittently, the ringtone silenced to prevent any disruptions to your writing flow.

Hours passed in the cocoon of concentration until, finally feeling the need for a break, you decided to peel yourself away from the keyboard. As you removed your headphones, the ambient sounds of the room rushed back in, and it was then that you noticed the diode in your phone pulsating, informing of a new notifications. Picking it up, you were greeted by the missed call notification, and your curiosity piqued as you saw it was from your boyfriend, Keigo. A momentary pang of guilt crept in as you realized the silence in your writing sanctuary had inadvertently caused you to overlook his attempt to reach out.

Your heart skipped a beat, anxiety prickling at the edges of your mind. Hawks rarely called, and the uncertainty of the situation fueled your imagination with all sorts of scenarios. Was there trouble on the horizon? Did he need your help in some perilous mission? The possibilities played out like a suspenseful movie in your mind.

Hesitantly, you returned the call, your voice carrying a subtle tremor. "Hey, Hawks. I saw your missed call. Is everything okay? I've been busy, I'm sorry."

There was a brief pause before Hawks' voice, laced with amusement, echoed through the phone. "Oh, sweetheart, everything's fine. I just wanted to hear your voice."

Confusion and relief mingled within you as Hawks continued, his tone light and teasing. "Got caught up in a little skirmish, you know how it goes. But I thought, why not take a break and check in on my favorite person?"

A playful grin formed on your face, realizing you had been caught in the web of Hawks' mischievous nature. "You scared me there for a moment. A call in the middle of hero duties, huh? Shouldn't you be saving the day or something?"

Hawks chuckled, the sound like a melody that eased the tension in your chest. "Well, I've got my priorities straight, and you're at the top of the list. Speaking of which, how about dinner tomorrow? My treat. We'll celebrate surviving another day in this crazy world, and maybe not only that."

As the conversation shifted from angst to warmth, you agreed, the prospect of spending quality time with Hawks brightening your evening.

The next day, Hawks whisked you away to a charming little restaurant, the city lights providing a picturesque backdrop. The evening was filled with light-hearted banter, with Hawks effortlessly blending his hero persona with the charming, carefree man you had come to adore.

The evening at the restaurant continued to unfold with a delightful rhythm. The ambiance was warm, the soft glow of the lights creating an intimate atmosphere that wrapped around you and Hawks like a comforting embrace. The laughter and easy banter flowed freely, weaving a tapestry of shared moments that deepened the connection between you two.

As the night progressed, Hawks, with his ever-charming demeanor, guided the conversation towards the future. The air was charged with a subtle energy, and you couldn't help but sense a shift in the atmosphere. Suddenly, he looked at you with a glint of sincerity in his eyes, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Hey," he began, his voice taking on a slightly more serious tone, "you know, life is full of surprises, right?"

You met his gaze, curiosity mingling with a touch of excitement. "I'm all ears. What surprise do you have up your sleeve, Hawks?"

He reached into his pocket, pulling a small box that gleamed in the candlelight.

The guests around you, previously engrossed in their own conversations, began to take notice as Hawks opened the box, revealing a delicate ring that sparkled in the soft glow. A hush fell over the restaurant, and all eyes turned towards the unfolding scene.

Hawks, maintaining his characteristic cool, yet playful demeanor, spoke words that echoed with sincerity. "I've been doing some thinking, and, well, how about we make this adventure called life a bit more official?"

The realization hit you like a gentle wave, and your eyes widened with a mix of surprise and joy. You covered your mouth wth a curled palm. "Keigo, do you…?"

The room seemed to hold its breath as Hawks continued, "Will you make me the happiest bird in the sky and be my forever partner in crime?" With a smirk, Hawks added, "Come on, it's not every day you get proposed to by the fastest bird in the sky. Don't keep a hero waiting."

Overwhelmed with emotion, tears of happiness welled up in your eyes. In a voice barely above a whisper, you managed to say, "Yes, Hawks. A thousand times, yes."

As Keigo slipped the ring onto your finger, the guests erupted into a mix of applause and cheers.

Hawks, couldn't resist a triumphant grin as he pulled you into a tender embrace.

The world around you blurred as the reality of the proposal sank in, and you couldn't help but cry tears of joy, feeling the warmth of love enveloping you like a soft, comforting blanket.

As the night unfolded, and as you walked hand in hand with Keigo through the city streets, returning to your shared flat, the lights flickering like stars overhead, you couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected beauty that unfolded from that one missed call.

#hawks x you #hawks fluff #keigo takami x you #mha hcs #takami keigo #keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami x y/n #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #hawks hcs #bnha fluff #mha fluff #hawks fanfiction #keigo takami fluff #mha hawks #bnha hawks

258 notes · View notes

reaper2187 · 5 months

Text

Countess Chelsea x sinner female reader

In the twilight's embrace, you sauntered towards Chelsea's lavish estate. Your heart pounded with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. You had heard whispers of her reputation—a femme fatale who ensnared men with her magnetic charm and left them shattered in her wake. But tonight, it was different. Chelsea had sent for you, the notorious and unapologetic sinner.

As you approached the towering gates, a shiver coursed down your spine. The air crackled with an enigmatic tension. You lifted the heavy knocker and let it fall with a metallic thud. A moment later, the gates swung open, revealing a world both alluring and menacing.

The sprawling gardens were bathed in golden moonlight, casting an ethereal glow on the manicured lawns and towering trees. You followed the winding path that led to the magnificent mansion, its opulent facade a testament to Chelsea's wealth and power.

At the top of the grand staircase, you paused, your breath catching in your throat. Chelsea stood before you, an enigmatic figure enveloped in a shimmering gown that revealed glimpses of alabaster skin. Her piercing gaze held you captive, sending a surge of electricity through your body.

'My dear, I've been expecting you,' she purred, her voice a velvet caress. 'Chelsea, they call me. And to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?'

You swallowed hard, your voice trembling slightly. 'You...you sent for me.'

'Indeed I did,' Chelsea replied, a knowing smile playing on her lips. 'Your reputation precedes you. A temptress who revels in the forbidden. I have a proposition for you.'

She extended her hand towards you, its touch sending shivers of desire up your spine. 'Become my mistress, and I will grant you untold riches and indulgence. But be warned, my love, your soul will belong to me.'

You hesitated for a moment, torn between the tantalizing offer and the perilous path it would lead you down. But curiosity consumed you, and you couldn't resist the temptation.

'I accept,' you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Chelsea's lips curled into a triumphant smirk. 'Excellent. We will begin our illicit affair immediately.'

She led you down a private hallway, her hand gently guiding yours. As doors opened before you, you were transported to a world of forbidden pleasures. Lavish banquets, aromatic wines, and seductive company awaited you at every turn.

Chelsea was like a spider weaving her web, luring you deeper into her lair. She showered you with attention, whispered sweet nothings in your ear, and ignited a fire within you that you had never felt before. But with each blissful moment, a seed of doubt began to germinate in your heart.

Chelsea was not just a woman of beauty and desire; she was a predator who fed on the souls of those who dared to love her. Her promises of riches and happiness were nothing more than empty words. You realized that you were not merely her lover but her puppet, a pawn in her treacherous game.

As the days turned into weeks, your once-strong spirit began to crumble under Chelsea's relentless manipulation. You found yourself consumed by guilt and despair, your life spiraling out of control. But even in your darkest hour, a glimmer of hope emerged from the depths of your shattered heart.

You knew that you had to escape Chelsea's clutches, no matter the cost. One night, as she slept soundly by your side, you slipped out of the mansion and ran for your life.

The world outside was cold and unforgiving, but you were determined to rebuild your broken existence. You sought solace in the depths of your pain, vowing never to become entangled in Chelsea's web of deception again.

And so, my dear sinner, your journey continued. A journey of redemption and self-discovery, where the scars of the past became badges of your resilience. You emerged from the darkness, not as the temptress you once were, but as a warrior who had escaped the clutches of the wicked and lived to tell the tale.

#lesbian #wlw #wlw post #path to nowhere #path to nowhere x reader #ptn #chelsea #countess chelsea #chelsea x reader

77 notes · View notes

maskedemerald · 19 days

Text

Weaving Webs CH7

Here is chapter seven of my Invisobang fic and the last one of the week! We are now half way through the fic but I need a little time to tidy up the other chapters because of IRL chaos so after this I'll be only posting one next week while catch up.

The wonderful @pricklenettle did some fantastic art that you'll see embedded through out the fic! If I had to pick I would say that this chapter has my favourite art but that is mostly because I was just so excited to see a certain gremlin Danny that shows up at the chapter's end!

You can check out the fic here or on AO3!

If you like this consider dropping us both a follow!

Warnings: Body horror, manipulation, Spectra is her own content warning, Burns, Spider - for like 2 chapters then it goes away.

The Fenton parents were there when the accident happened, they saw Danny die in an act of sabotage. Now they’re just trying to go on with the strange ghost that is all that's left of Danny. While their old college friend is wondering where the subjects of his revenge are.

[First] [Previous] [Next]

Chapter Seven

Maddie leant against Jack on the sofa, the week had left her drained from all the stress on top of the grief. She watched him stitch, the needle going in and out. His hoop had been returned, after some convincing. The hoarding behaviour hadn’t been an expected trait. The ghost was currently sitting on the floor cuddling Jazz’s Bearbert while Jazz was reading in the armchair.

Danny’s ghost made a strange popping noise, like pressure bubbling up against the glass face plate. It spasmed a shiver and then shook its head. A pale white mist hissing out of the cracks in the face plate. Maddie watched cautiously as it happened another two times. Was this it? Was this the ghost becoming more like what they expected? Or was it some other anomaly they hadn’t known ghosts did.

Jack beside her laughed, “hiccups? Were those hiccups? Can ghosts even have those?”

Maddie frowned, “that requires breathing Jack,” she stated.

There was little point considering the hypothesis. It might be something like a hiccup but an actual hiccup required breathing. Depressurization of the suit was more likely but that still required it to act more like the real physical version of the material and by this point the suit should have been long since depressurized with the torn open arm. It made the noise again, this time the spasm and noise harsher and longer lasting.

“A sneeze?” Jack questioned beside her.

Once again that required breathing. Also irritants and she couldn’t think what might have triggered that. Before she had much time to further ponder the strange action that seemed to be confusing the ghost as much as it was her. It tilted its head. Then there was a rush of green. Ecto green shapes bursting up from the floor. A swirl of limbs. Danny’s ghost carried off with them. Jazz scrambled back, knocking over the armchair.

Maddie leapt to her feet grabbing her ecto gun. One she wished she had reached for the moment the, for lack of a better word, hiccuping had started. Jack was not far behind her. Flashes of teeth and claws slashed at the ghost’s hazmat body, splattering green as they pulled it up through the ceiling followed by a couple of just too late shots from her blaster.

She rushed for the stairs, Jack behind her and Jazz clinging to him to avoid getting carried off as well. She hated that she was hoping that they were intentionally just targeting Danny’s ghost. At least the ghost would fare better than Jazz.

There was a crashing sound from their bedroom and she burst through the door. The ghost of a ragged looking wolf had been somehow thrown from the mass of ghosts attacking and into their mirrored closet door. It shook off and bounded back to the mass, she took it out with a strong blast that appeared to knock it out. She didn’t trust it but there wasn’t time for much more. The ghosts had to be dealt with before they ended up putting the ghost proofing of the roof to the test.

Jack had found the bazooka, she noted as he barreled into the room behind her as she shot into the mass trying to break up the ghosts. She didn’t get the chance to warn him to watch his aim. The blast fired, a large mass of charged ecto green. It slammed into the ghosts, repelling them till they impacted the walls. Danny’s ghost was not an exception and was the exception she had wanted to warn Jack to watch out for. She winced as it was thrown against the wall. A nasty thud and the sound of something impacting the glass of its visor.

No ghosts moved.

Maddie held her pistol ready, eyeing the other ghosts as she approached Danny’s. Jack rushed past her.

“Danno! Sorry… sorry! Arg… idiot,” he called himself.

The lights flickered overhead and the alarm clock whined. The ghost looked up, its eyes wide but dazed, green spots failing to actually meet his. A green splatter marked the inside of the visor glass where its forehead would have been. The suit scattered with scratches and cuts. There were clear bites glowing green as they leaked ecto.

She crouched down, “just a bump, the others took most of the blast. It will probably be fine Jack.”

“But… I shouldn’t have even… I just didn’t think about it affecting him.”

The ghost pushed itself up and slumped against Jack. Another whine.

“What a strange ghost,” Maddie commented, her grip tightened on her weapon for a moment, “it clearly doesn’t blame you.”

Jack gave a sad smile, “he still got hurt.”

“Pass it here, I’ll take it to the lab and do what I can to patch it up, while you check on Jazz,” she offered.

She was the one more experienced in first aid though how much use that would be to a ghost was another matter. Then there was the matter of Jazz, dealing with the defeated ghosts and making sure there wouldn’t be anymore.

Jack let her take the ghost from him, “any ideas what to do with the ghosts? The other ones?” she asked, they didn’t really have any tried and tested containment.

“There’s still some leftover anti-ecto insulation. I’ll grab it!”

She scooped up the ghost, finding it not quite what she had expected. She hadn’t really touched it before. It was cold yes and sent shivers down her spine from the cold but she hadn’t expected the feel of the hazmat to be so realistic. She avoided the burnt arm, not wanting to feel the cracked, charred skin.

Jazz lingered in the corridor, “is he going to be alright?... I mean… you know…” she asked looking worriedly up at the ghost in her arms.

“It will be fine, just going to get it patched up,” she comforted again. Probably best not to let Jazz know that Jack accidentally shot him. Jack didn’t need the worried big sister attitude right now. He already felt bad enough.

As they approached the lab stairs the lights above sparked and there was an electrical whine. The ghost started to squirm and phase awkwardly through her. It really was like it was concussed in the fact that it failed. Was there some sort of cognitive center like a brain that had hit some sort of outer shell during the impact.

She cringed as she found herself hushing the ghost like it was Danny. It was but it also wasn’t. Though would it really hurt that much to treat it like it right now. It was clear there was no malicious intent and it did seem to feel something.

She comforted it on the way down into the lab, mentally throwing out the ‘ghosts don’t have feelings research’ that she should have dealt with days ago. It became more and more aware as she did. More on edge. It’s grip tight but not struggling. Lights flickered and whined. The only light that didn’t change was the dreaded portal that green eyes latched onto. It… he stared at it as she set him down on a workbench as far from the portal as she could get.

Danny’s ghost sat on the bench, his legs swinging back and forth. They twisted between legs and half formed tail. Eyes darting around the room as the dazed state lowered. Still its eyes would always drift back to the portal. She would say the adrenaline of being taken back to a traumatic place had shook off the majority of the dazed state but ghosts didn’t have adrenaline.

Maddie paused as she hunted for the first aid kit, would it even be any use. She shook her head and pulled it out anyway before returning to Danny’s ghost.

She gently brushed the antiseptic over the fresh cuts in his exposed arm, it was hard to differentiate with the already mangled and burnt state of his arm. It also probably didn’t matter, he was a ghost and their previous studies indicated that any flesh was just a mimic of it. That as far as ghosts went even Danny’s hazmat was a mimic. That hazmat might well be his body now. Ectoplasm leaked from scratches in it just like it had from his exposed arm. As if it was his skin.

She eyed the extra glow beyond his visor, a splatter of ecto green. She hadn’t expected a ghost to be able to bruise. Not that ghosts had been anything like she had expected. Cuts in the skin made sense but the equivalent of a bruise didn’t. His body shouldn’t have had any real structure under the skin layer that was the Hazmat. Aside from maybe something like a brain. Bruises required sub-surface vessels. Vessels he shouldn’t have. There was little she could do about the bruise. It was probably as superficial as the cuts had been once she had gotten a closer look. The glass itself was intact aside from the crack he had gotten when he’d… died.

Even as she checked him over one more time she could see the plastic start to knit itself back together on the slightest of cuts. The exposed arm was slower but still healing. Ghosts were far more elastic than humans. It was fortunate it was him who was carried off and not Jazz. He’d be healed up before long.

The clasps on his collar caught her eye, shiny and silver against the burnt black. He still had the clasps. It was a perfect mimic of the hazmat that he had been wearing. Would it move like it? Could the clasps come undone? What would that mean for the helmet? Could it come off? She reached for them and there was an audible click as she flicked it open. Danny’s head tilted wondering what she was doing. What did it mean that it opened? She clicked open each one. It hadn’t fallen right off. She wondered if despite the clasps it would be sealed to the neck. Just a surface imitation or maybe…

Maddie’s hands shook as she settled them either side of the hazmat helmet. If this worked would there be something to see? She almost wanted to see nothing. Nothing rather than the burnt and broken dead face. Blackened and charred down to the bone. There was another part that wanted so much to see his face, his face the way it should have been.

She cringed as Danny’s rough burnt hand touched hers. His hands joined hers and then they were lifting together. There was a light hiss, almost like it had been under a vacuum even though with the burnt away arm that was impossible. At the flash of singed skin of his neck she froze. Her mind realled, at war with herself. A deep breath was taken and she steeled herself. She had to know.

She lifted the helmet the rest of the way. Translucent almost pearl-like white hair fell round his face. A face that was marked with a sharp series of lichtenberg scarring that arched up his neck and across his cheek. It lanced across his eye where the crack in his visor had been. The skin around the scar was burnt but it faded out into smooth skin. Unnaturally so. His freckles were so familiar but even they glowed like little specks of starlight. Bright green eyes blinked at her, squinting in the bright lights of the examination table. His hands lowered from hers to shield them.

That was him, more him than she’d ever thought the ghost would or could look. There wasn’t supposed to be an underneath. The imprint should have been surface level only. Seeing his face hurt. Maddie choked back a sob that caught his attention. The helmet dropped to the floor, Danny caused the lights to crackle and flicker out leaving his glow the only source. He shuffled back, back and off the table into the air. Hands now covering his face in a way that was no longer about the light.

The black of the collar oozed and warped. It twisted up and wrapped around his head once again hiding his face behind the visor. The lights made an almost tentative popping noise as they flickered back on and Danny lowered his hands hesitantly as he hovered closer.

He thought he had upset her, did he think she didn’t want to see. She didn’t but at the same time she did. She hated seeing his face like that, dead but that face, there was something comforting about it too. That despite the expected. Despite the theory. Despite everything that should say otherwize there was enough of him there to create a face when it should have just been the hazmat and nothing else. A face she was worried he might not remember enough to recreate.

She grabbed him and pulled him close into a hug. “Its okay, I’m okay… just a little surprised. All fixed up right? We should head back up.”

Danny nodded and seemed to brighten, the edges of his eyes crinkling. Maddie let him go and led him back up to the kitchen.

“Mads, how’s he?” Jack asked, her blaster and the bazooka on the table in front of him.

Jack unscrewed the bazooka’s casing and removed the barely spent battery. That was a bad sign.

She paused, “just a few scratches. He’s healing fast so none of it was as bad as it looked by the time we got down there.”

She dropped into a seat, “the ghosts?”

Jack shook his head, “gone, fled before I’d gotten the insulation. Guess that means we need to figure out something that actually works.”

She sighed, she had guessed that was the case. Jack being this prepared to change batteries after only one shot meant he expected to need it again. Her own pistol was probably already changed. As he spoke the battery was waved along with his arms.

Danny watched him like a cat. Perched on the back of a chair that he had floated to. Then at the widest wave of Jack going on about how they might contain the ghosts next time he lunged. Snapped at the waving vial, his visor opening up like a mouth. Pointed broken glass like teeth in the black empty void. Said teeth clamped round the battery as Jack froze. Pulling it from his hand before retreating to the floor. Maddie stared, she couldn’t help but think about how that void should have shown his face.

Maddie pulled herself quickly out of her shock. Scratches were one thing but the ecto battery exploding in his face was going to be more damaging if he broke it open wrong. She wrestled the battery away from him to a crackling whine of the electronics in the room.

“Danny! Don’t eat that!” she tried to get him to let go of the battery.

The fridge growled for him, as he chewed on the battery.

“Its not safe Danno,” Jack approached, hands raised placatingly.

Another whine but they were able to pull the battery from his… mouth?

Maddie sighed, “I think we might have some less volatile samples in the lab,” she slipped downstairs to lock up the pistol batteries and returned with a sample flask.

Danny guzzled it down, still without a face.

“So ghosts eat then?” Jack laughed a little watching Danny

Maddie groaned. “You saw that too right? He didn’t have a face…”

Loook at this creature! The art is so cool! As I am writing this I am realizing that I now have three fics with Danny having some sort of broken glass/porcelain imagery. I swear I don't have a problem, I can stop reusing the imagery whenever I want... I just don't want to.

For this fic it was basically a case of I wanted to have ghost hunger but not loose the hazmat aspects for other future parts of the fic and then this idea happened.

[First] [Previous] [Next]

#writing #danny phantom #fan fiction #eldritch danny #full ghost danny #invisobang 2024 #good parents fentons #hazmat au #invisobang #weaving webs fic #caught in the spiders web series

40 notes · View notes

tiredofthehumanlife · 1 month

Text

Star sign? Opinion on trans rights?

Feelings on making out in a goth bar bathroom?

Barbie dolls:Klaus Hargreeves x gn!goth! Reader

Word:1k

Summary: Klaus thinks you're hot and you guys dance

Warnings:you're goth (including the political views), mentions of homophobia, it's the 60s and I didn't research the 60s for this shit, Klaus is a poser(kinda) and gets terminology wrong, you make out in a bathroom, Klaus kinda talks bad about himself, huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhh go read I'm sleeping with my eyes open get out of here

Request: we have to work on roommate boundaries because you're really pushing it

Listen, Klaus didn’t hate the 60’s but he didn’t really like it either. Stonewall wasn’t set to happen for another 10 or so years. Homophobic slurs were thrown his way frequently. Maybe it was the way he dressed or stood. Whatever it was, it was dampening his experience. Despite all of the complaints from Ben, Klaus decided he was headed for a goth bar. The one and only in all of Texas.

He really wasn’t sure what he was doing in a goth bar. He wanted a safe place, where he could stand how he wanted and not be worried about how people felt about his sexual desires. He just lingered by the bar, sipping his drink from his straw. Klaus was enjoying the music, lightly swaying his hips. Ben was sat on top of the bar, swaying his legs back and forth.

“This is your idea of fun?” Ben asked. Klaus wished he couldn’t hear ghosts when the living people around him were loud. Klaus kept his straw in his mouth and glared at Ben. Shut up. Ben rolled his eyes and looked over at the dancefloor. Klaus followed his eyes. It was a dark-lit building, as much should be expected for a bar. Even in the dark, his eyes were drawn to you.

It looked like the red and white spotlights were all trained on you. You were even in the center of the dancers. It should be impossible to see someone in the center but just by the looks of it, Klause was pretty sure you were a god. Your arms were waving in the air, your black clothes waving around with you.

Klaus definitely was not deep into the goth culture but he was pretty sure that dance was called ‘webs in the air’ or something like that. Klaus didn’t need to know what the dance was called all he knew was it was alluring. He felt like he was on a ship and he just heard a siren's call. Klaus set his drink down, leaving it on the wooden bar. He didn’t need a drink, just looking at you was enough to get him inebriated.

He weaved through the dancing people, swerving his head when hands shot out. He assumed you must’ve felt him moving towards you with your magical god powers or whatever. You turned your head, meeting his eyes. Klaus felt his heart skip a beat, surely you were a siren the way your arms beckoned him into the sea of black fabric swirling around you. He was finally standing in front of you.

“Hey,” Klaus said, just barely above the sound of the loud music. Your hand settles on his shoulder, tilting your head at him.

“Hello. Libra?” Klaus reeled back, letting out a shocked laugh. You smiled at him nodding.

“Yeah, how’d you know that?” You gave him a one-shouldered shrug. Klaus smiled, reaching his hand out for your bicep.

“How do you feel about trans rights?” You asked over the music, basically yelling. Klaus smiled brightly.

“Yeah, Yeah. Love ‘em I think they’re great.” Your smile brightened and you pulled his hand down from your bicep to your hip.

“Great. Wanna go make out in the bathroom?” You asked, still bobbing your head to the music. Klaus smiled, nodding his head rapidly. You latched onto his hand, holding your hands above everyone’s heads as you pulled him through the crowd.

After a long few minutes of clashing tongues in the bathroom, you eventually took him back to your apartment. He grew on you very quickly, he had what felt like thousands of years of experience. He liked having the personification of a bat as a partner.

Months and months later, he found his family again and dragged you to meet them. You liked the weird one with the Kennedy obsession and the one big buff dude. Eventually what looked to be a 16-year-old wandered into your group, pausing when he saw you.

“Right, and who’s the vampire?” You glanced at Klaus, silently asking who this dickhead high schooler was. Klaus scoffed, pulling you to his chest.

“Leave my amazing and beautiful partner alone you dickhead.” Klaus said, glaring at the teen. Your arms hung limply by your sides, used to Klaus’ dramatics at this point.

“Ah, well it makes sense now.” You raised a brow at the teen. The knife brother pointed his finger at the teen.

“Listen, Five, okay dude. I’ve only known them for the last five minutes but in that time, I’ve decided that they are amazing and perfect. I will knock you out if you keep running your mouth.” Diego said, furrowing his eyebrows. You hummed, pulling away from Klaus. You still held onto his hand for support.

“Thanks, Diego. I too have only known you for five minutes but I have decided that you deserve at least two of your favorite desserts.” You said, pulling Klaus’ hand up to your mouth and kissing the back. Klaus pulled your arm to his chest, hugging it tight. He batted his eyelashes up at you.

“Aren’t they just the sweetest?” Klaus asked, dropping his head onto your shoulder. You hummed and kissed the top of Klaus’ head. Diego gave you a short nod. Luther tilted his head back and forth. Allison hummed in a neutral ‘eh I guess’ type of way. Viktor shrugged and Lila snorted. Five glared at you.

“I don’t think he likes me.” You whispered to Klaus. Klaus hummed.

“You just have to make him coffee and he’ll love you forever. I mean I’m a pain in the ass and he still tolerates me.” Klaus said, tilting his head up. You shook your head, kissing his forehead. You let your lips linger on his skin.

“You’re not hard to love, it’s quite easy actually.” You said, focusing back on the group. Klaus whined and hid his face in your arm. Luther gave you a small smile.

“Oh you two are disgustingly sweet, I’m going to hurl,” Viktor said, turning his back to the group. You awed at him. Even after you found out about the apocalypse and the one after that and the plenty more to come, you were still glad you danced with Klaus all the way back in the 60s. Loving him made all the worries of the world you both had disappear.

#klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x you #the umbrella academy #tua s2 #tua #tua season two

41 notes · View notes

jeanniebug623 · 16 days

Text

I wish I had more to show, lovies, but I’ve been letting my brain rest and I’m working on a special project to celebrate the end of Silent As Shadows! 🕷️💙✨

On top of everything else and absolute stress overload from work…blah to real life… 😵‍💫

Below are the (working) titles and quick descriptions of what my next three Spider-centric stories. Don’t worry though! Weaving The Web and a third part to Sixteen ARE still priority! 💙🐞

🕸️ TRUE COLORS: Miles Socorro, chosen name ‘Spider’, is fifteen-years-old and was never left wanting in life. His mother showered him in love, encouragement, and worldly knowledge. The girl of his dreams will one day be the woman he walks through life with. His guardians healed his damaged heart after his mother’s passing. This boy needs nothing more than to continue to make his loved ones proud. What he does not need is the father he never met wanting to meet him. Why now…?

🕸️ WILD SON: Colonel Miles Quaritch knew Paz Socorro was a wild card. But also a lone wolf, much like himself. Maybe that’s what drew him to her in the first place. He knew she had a long ledger of classified enemies and could disappear without warning. And she did…after three months of a feral and passionate relationship. What he did not expect was for Paz to show up on his doorstep 17 years later saying their son had been taken…by one of Quaritch’s old foes…

🕸️ TANGLED ROOTS: The Muve Te'lang were allies of the Na'vi. Avatars and recombinants alike. The People called them 'Second Skin' out of affection for the gift of a second life. Before the RDA rounded them up into cryostasis, fearing rebellion when it was decided to attack the Tree of Souls, they mingled among the Na'vi celebrations and festivities. From these gatherings were born the Tìzin 'ngrr, or 'Tangled Roots'. Children of Na'vi and the others. When it was the return of the Sky People that woke the sleeping Muve Te'lang, and not their old allies, what dangers will unfold when Colonel Miles Quaritch wakes up to learn of their betrayal...?

#atwow #atwow spider #spider socorro #recom quaritch #atwow recoms #atwow oc #spider quaritch #atwow fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar the way of traumatizing spider #ao3 writer #too many ideas #so little brain

19 notes · View notes

melodygatesauthor · 9 months

Text

The Webs We Weave

Peter B. Parker X Miguel O'Hara

Not Beta Read

I MIGHT write more for this, but as of right now I don't plan for it to be a series.

Summary

Miguel is babysitting May one night while Mary Jane and Peter are on a date. When they come home and Peter is drunk, things take a turn that Miguel wasn't expecting.

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, smut, top!Peter, bottom!Miguel, anal sex, we're ignoring anal prep in this one folks, anal creampie, cheating (Peter cheating on MJ), porn with some plot, gay sex, dirty talk, drunk sex, unprotected anal sex.

Word Count: 2k

“Thanks for watching May,” MJ whispered as she walked by Miguel who was sprawled out lazily on the couch.

“Yeah,” Miguel murmured, the fatigue of a long afternoon with the toddler weighing on him.

“I hate to ask this but, Peter is–”

“HEY MIG!” Miguel groaned upon hearing Peter’s voice outdoors, understanding perfectly well what Mary Jane was going to ask of him.

“On it,” Miguel grumbled, making his way to the door.

A drunken Peter was still sitting in the car, playing music far too loud for the neighborhood he lived in, and far too loud for one o’clock in the morning. Not to mention it had been a bit of a struggle to get May to sleep, and Miguel didn’t like the idea of listening to a screaming child all night. He practically ripped the car door off its hinges, turning the radio off before promptly grabbing Peter and pulling him out of the car.

“Will you shut the hell up? Your kid is sleeping.” Miguel hissed through clenched teeth, dragging Peter by the collar of his shirt into the house.

“I’m sorry!” He slurred. “Just trying to have fun with my wife, you know, that’s what I was trying to do!”

“Peter!” MJ whispered harshly, aiding Miguel to the bedroom with her intoxicated husband. “Put him on the bed. You getting drunk every time we have a date night isn’t fun for your wife.”

It was tough to see them like that. Miguel knew how much MJ meant to Peter, and vice versa, but he knew they weren’t happy. They hadn’t been happy for a long time. They’d invite Miguel over for dinner, or sometimes host parties and it would always end in one, or both, of them crying about how miserable they were.

“Gotta stay together for the kid. I know it might not make sense to you since…”

Peter didn’t say shit like that on purpose, but it always made Miguel wanna knock the guy’s lights out whenever he did. The man’s a fucking idiot, Miguel reminded himself.

“Are you staying?” Mary Jane asked, eyes nearly pleading with Miguel.

He sighed, “yeah, yeah I guess I can. I had plans to go home and get a good night’s rest but yeah I can babysit your husband too. Why the hell not.”

~~~~

Miguel stayed. Of course he stayed. What else was he going to do? Leave his closest friend’s wife to deal with his bullshit? She was choosing to put up with his nonsense as much as Miguel was, but Miguel had a soft spot for Peter and his antics, even if he sported an irritated face ninety-percent of the time. Beneath that tough exterior, he cared deeply for the guy.

Miguel was curled up in the guest room when Peter sauntered down the hallway to the door.

“Mig,” Peter slurred, jumping Miguel in his bed.

“Jesus, Peter. You scared the shit out of–”

“Sh,” Peter shushed, sitting on the bed next to Miguel. “Don’t wanna wake up MJ.”

Miguel could see Peter’s features through the moonlight coming through the large window on the other side of the room. His eyes were underlined with dark circles and hair sticking out in every direction. Miguel’s eyes traced the outline of Peter’s body, white teeshirt sitting loosely over his frame.

“So you thought it was a good idea to wake me up? Peter–”

“I want a divorce, but I don’t want to do that to May.”

Miguel groaned. This wasn’t the first time he’d heard Peter talk like that, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“You’re drunk. Go to bed.” Miguel grumbled, laying back down and rolling over so his back was to Peter.

“Miguel,” Peter whispered, putting his hand on Miguel’s shoulder.

He tried to shrug Peter’s hand away but the man was persistent. He moved in, curling up behind Miguel and pressing his chest against the larger man’s spine. His arm snaked under Miguel’s arm and around his waist.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m just getting comfy, just relax will ya?” Peter sniffed out a laugh as he cozied up closer behind his friend.

Miguel could feel it, the hard press of Peter's dick against his ass cheek. He tried to ignore it, thinking that drawing attention to it might be more awkward than just letting it go. What Miguel couldn’t ignore, was Peter’s fingers grabbing at the waistband of his boxer-briefs and tugging them down before reaching for Miguel’s to do the same.

“Peter, what the fuck are you doing? Are you stupid?”

“Yeah, but also, really fucking horny, Mig,” he slurred drunkenly. “Be a good friend for me okay? Please?”

Miguel wanted to tell him to stop…didn’t he? This was weird, and it was wrong. MJ was right in the other room, and Peter was his best friend. They’d always been just friends…that’s it.

Miguel heard Peter spit and felt him jerk himself once, and then twice, before sliding his cock between Miguel’s cheeks. Peter couldn’t see the way Miguel was gripping the sheets, nor the way his jaw was clenched so tight he thought his teeth might break.

“I’ve never done anything like this before so do I like…do I just…”

He moved his hips forward, the fat tip of his cock rested against Miguel’s tight ring of muscle. Miguel exhaled sharply, cock springing to life almost immediately with the prod of Peter’s thick head. He tried to relax, making himself more pliant. Peter pushed forward, his wide girth slipping into Miguel’s hole like it belonged there.

“Holy shit,” Peter breathed, feeling his cock throb inside Miguel’s tight ass. “You’re so tight, Mig.”

Miguel couldn’t respond, the feeling of Peter’s cock stretching him out made his brain short-circuit. He huffed out through his nostrils, fingers digging into the sheets as Peter started rocking himself back and forth. The bed creaked, forcing him to slow just a tad, fearful that Mary Jane would find out what they were doing.

Peter’s dick twitched inside of Miguel again, forcing him to choke back a moan. He still didn’t want to tell Peter he liked it. Part of him, despite his friend already being balls deep in his guts, still wanted to pretend that they weren’t doing what they were doing. Miguel’s cock ached, the glossy tip leaking precum all over the bedding. He rutted forward, the delicious friction of the sheets forcing a soft exhale from his lips.

“God, Mig, you like that hm?” Peter asked, his pace still a slow roll into Miguel, body shuddering every time he bottomed out. “I can hear you whining, it’s cute,” Peter laughed.

“Cállate,” Miguel grumbled, trying to ignore how good it felt to have Peter stretching him out like that.

“Oh come on Mig, you…fuck…you like it,” Peter teased.

Miguel didn’t say a word, not wanting to give Peter the satisfaction of thinking he’d won Miguel over. He was still trying to process the fact that his best friend of the last couple years was buried deep in his ass with the man’s wife sleeping just two doors down. Miguel’s talons extended outward, digging into the extra pillow by his head. He pulled it down to his cock, shuddering at the feeling of his slick length brushing against the fabric.

“Y’know if you roll that thing up just right I bet it would feel amazing,” Peter slurred in Miguel’s ear. “Try it.”

Miguel grumbled but eventually conceded to Peter’s idea, rolling the pillow so it had a hole in the middle and stuffing his dick inside. The fucker was right. It did feel good. He breathed out, bucking his hips forward into the makeshift fleshlight.

“You thinking about me, Mig?” Peter’s hips rolled behind Miguel even faster. “You thinking about how good it would feel to fuck my ass? F-fuck, maybe I’ll l-let you try me out next t-time.”

Peter started struggling to speak, breaths coming out in sharp gasps the closer he got to spilling everything he had into Miguel’s tight hole. Miguel felt Peter’s hands digging into the meat of his narrow hips. His thrusts were getting more ragged and sloppy, and Miguel couldn’t shake the delicious feeling of his own cock throbbing and leaking into the pillow the more he fucked into it.

God he felt depraved, happily letting his drunken friend fuck him dumb while he rutted desperately into a damn pillow. Of all the times Miguel had felt self-loathing, this was near the top of his list. Every time Peter’s cock stuffed him to the brim though, he forgot all about it, mind going numb with nothing but the feeling of his asshole getting railed.

“Peter, this is so f-fucking dumb,” Miguel said, still holding on to the smallest bit of dignity he had left, the part of him that felt bad for Mary Jane.

“Sh,” Peter whispered, nails digging harder into Miguel, “I’m so close Mig, please.”

Peter whined in Miguel’s ear, and how could he possibly say no to that?

Giving in, Miguel started moving along with Peter’s rhythm, fucking the hole he made in the pillow like it belonged to a living, breathing human. Miguel’s mind went blank, filled with nothing but the feeling of his aching cock against the fabric while he rolled his hips faster.

“Oh god Mig, do you want me to come in your ass? I can pull out if you want I…oh shit I’m…” Peter didn’t wait for an answer before he felt his cock twitching and shooting hot ropes deep into Miguel’s tight hole.

“Fuck, Parker, for fuck��s sake…”

Miguel lost it, cum spilling out into the stark white pillow while his asshole contracted around Peter’s dick. He’d never had such a strong orgasm before that night, the feeling forcing his entire body to stiffen and shake with every throb of his cock. They laid there for a while, the room filled with nothing but their combined heavy breaths before Peter finally pulled out, leaving Miguel feeling empty.

“Fuck, Miguel,” he whispered, kissing Miguel’s neck once before pulling his sweats back up around his hips.

Miguel didn’t turn around. He didn’t know what he’d do even if he had. It didn’t feel like the right time for post-sex cuddling and a soft makeout session, so Miguel just kept his body turned away from Peter as the man got up and left the room silently. If not for the cum still dripping out of Miguel’s spent asshole, it would be like Peter was never there in the first place.

When morning came, Miguel wasn’t sure what would happen. Would Peter even remember stealing into Miguel’s room the night before? Would he go on as if nothing ever happened? As far as Miguel was concerned, it would be best if they let it go. How could they possibly continue running the Spider Society as partners if they were…doing things in secret behind the scenes? It didn’t make sense. Not to mention…Mary Jane.

She was smiling when Miguel made his way into the kitchen in the morning, the red headed toddler hanging off her shoulders while she made coffee. Miguel and MJ exchanged pleasantries, but Miguel’s aching rear amplified his guilt tenfold. He felt like he should tell the blissfully ignorant wife that her husband had cheated on her the night before.

Then again…Miguel didn’t exactly do anything to stop it.

“Morning!” Peter exclaimed, coming out of his bedroom with a wide stretch and a loud yawn.

“Morning, Peter,” both Miguel and Mary Jane said in unison, turning to face him.

“I’m so sorry if I caused too much trouble last night, I was deeerunk,” he said nonchalantly, walking up behind MJ at the counter and kissing her on the cheek.

While she was turned away, Peter and Miguel shared a glance where Peter looked Miguel up and down.

“I don’t remember much so, I hope I wasn’t a…pain in the ass…”

Miguel gulped. Peter clearly didn’t intend on ignoring what had happened between them the night before, and Miguel couldn’t shake the new feelings he felt stirring inside.

Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#miguel o'hara #astv #astv miguel #peter b x miguel #peter b parker #peter b parker x miguel o'hara #spiderdads #miguel x peter #miguel o'hara x peter b parker #miguel o'hara x peter b #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #spider man 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel atsv #across the spider verse #peter b atsv

100 notes · View notes

justfangirlstuffs · 1 year

Text

Just a Touch

You managed to locate a dark and quiet corner. Leaning against the wall, you lightly pressed your forehead against the brick. A low sigh left you, the coolness feeling disgustingly good against your heated skin.

“Since when do canaries hide away in the dark?” a low, growling voice asked from behind you.

Cabaret AU Drabble You x Sun and Moon

It was nearing the evening and your fever hadn't let up. It was baffling how your skin could feel so hot and yet you were shivering under your blankets doused in sweat. Staying in bed was not an option, however. You still had a gig to perform. In the line of show business canceling a job, especially from higher-end establishments, was a beeline to career suicide. The show organizers and event managers did not care if you were sick or dying, they only cared about you showing up as promised. And if you broke that promise they would likely never invite you again.

It was an incredibly unbalanced relationship where the performer was expected to show unfaltering dedication and loyalty, but the companies gave none of it back. No, in their eyes, you were lucky to be invited, they were doing you a favor, and woe be it upon you if you squander such generosity. So, you oh-so gracefully clambered your way out of bed, shuffled to your wardrobe, and wriggled into your work attire.

Normally you preferred to get dressed and dolled up at the venue but you'd rather not chance being too exhausted after the transit. You needed every drop of your energy for when you hit the stage. You put on your makeup, you curled your hair, you primped and primed until your mask of perfection was complete. Then you headed outside into the chilly dusk air to wait for the bus.

You nearly drifted off a few times on the ride over, narrowly missing your stop. You focused on taking one steady breath after the other, one small step after another. Mind over matter that's all it was. Just put on a performance until the curtain closes then no one can judge or condemn you and say you didn't give it your all. The bright lights of the cabaret FazOurs burned your eyes and for a moment you swayed. Then you took a deep breath, swallowing down your misery, and put on your best-winning smile. You may not be on stage yet, but eyes were on you, which meant it was Showtime.

As you weaved your way through the patrons, you spotted one of your favorite people and one out of two reasons that you didn't have to completely force the smile on your face. Sun was in the middle of entertaining himself, keeping a handful of the patrons spellbound by how he flipped cups and poured shots from over his head without managing to spill a single drop on his immaculately clean bar table. You would have been content to watch all night long as those hands and fingers forced liquid -the most mercurial of all the elements as far as you were concerned- to flow and dance to his whimsies.

He finished off the drink, adding the literal cherry on top of the crystalline ice to the scattered applause of those seated nearby. Only when the crowd dispersed and Sun began casually wiping down the bar did you saunter your way over, feeling so proud that you managed not to tip over sideways in the process. As planned, the bartender's gaze was drawn to your approach and his already cheery demeanor brightened all the more.

“Doth my eyes deceive me, or hath an angel descended from the heavens themselves?”

“Oh, love, quite the contrary,” you said, sliding into one of the chairs, thankful to have something to rest on. “The very depths of hell spat me out and now you're cursed to suffer my alluring charms.”

“The gates of hell might not be so bad if it's your company I'm promised,” Sun mused.

What a charmer. Sun managed to spin flattery as easily as a spider spun silk threads. But no matter how lovely the canvas of webbing is, it was still meant for catching anything foolhardy enough to fly too close. You are not foolhardy, but you were daring, and you did so love to tempt fate.

“An eternity with you” You hummed softly. “They would have to rename hell to heaven and then everything would just collapse in on itself, natural order destroyed.”

This earned you a chuckle of amusement. “Disturbing the peace and order. Yes, that does sound very much like you.”

You smiled feeling a little too pleased with yourself perhaps.

“Are you tired, darling?” Sun asked suddenly.

The question jarred you a bit and you realized too late you were leaning rather heavily against the bar table. You straightened up in your seat. “Looks like you caught me. Just looking for an excuse to be closer to you. I suppose I'll have to be a little more discreet next time.”

Sun’s smile did not falter, though you could tell his gaze was far more assessing now, eyes searching for chinks in the armor that you'd woven for yourself. That just would not do. The last thing you needed was for him to worry over you. Although the sentiment was sweet, you couldn't risk him thinking that you were incapable of performing.

“Well, as much as I hate to go and leave you lonely, I need to slip backstage to prep for the big opening number.” You slid off the bar stool and began making your swift retreat. “Try not to miss me too much.”

You heard Sun call out: “break a leg.”

In the back halls lined with dressing rooms other performers were already getting prepared. You were thankful you'd done yourself up ahead of time, even if it meant your curls wouldn't be quite as springy and your makeup might be a little flaked. Under the bright lights of the stage, no one would notice and you didn't plan to get up close and personal with anyone. Not tonight.

“Since when do canaries hide away in the dark?” a low, growling voice asked from behind you.

Ah, and there he was, your second reason to smile through the pain and misery. Straightening up, you opened your eyes to see a halo of soft red light surrounding you. Turning, you grinned up at the face of your favorite piano player, Moon. As usual, his hands were tucked away in his pockets; they seemed to live there when he wasn't at his piano playing.

“Who said I was hiding?” you asked coyly. “You don't think I stood here intentionally waiting for you to come find me? Tsk tsk, shame on you, falling right into my trap.”

Moon leaned down, his gaze scrutinous. Like Sun, he was rather tall and easily towered over you. Another nice thing about makeup, it would hopefully hide the fact that you were flushed like a ripe tomato. “Why do I get the sense you're up to no good?”

You laughed. “Dearest, have you MET me?”

He made a harrumph sound, but his posture was slightly more relaxed as he leaned back from you. “Yes, I have. Still questioning that decision.”

“A shame, because I would relive our first meeting 1000 times over given the chance.”

A growling scoff was his answer, one of his hands leaving the safety of his pockets in favor of pulling the front tip of his fedora down to hide his eyes. You inwardly chuckle. Moon wasn't quite as apt when it came to volleying compliments as his sunnier counterpart.

Just then you heard the stage coordinator call out, “Places everyone!”

You skirted around Moon. “Hope you can still keep up with me.”

He trailed behind you, and you're certain he called you a brat under his breath. You took your place on stage while Moon seated himself at the piano. You took deep breaths, doing your best to not sway on the spot as the announcer hyped up the crowd for the show. Then the music started, the trilling notes of the piano flowing and weaving into a wild melody. You longed to watch those fingers dance over the ivory keys, but you needed to focus. The curtains parted, light-flooded your vision and you could hardly see. The faces were darkened and blotted out by the mixture of shadows and your own blurring vision. But it was fine because you were a performer. You didn't need to see the audience, all that mattered was they saw you, and so you needed to be perfect.

You took one more steadying breath and belted out the first line of lyrics. It was all or nothing now.

-----

When Sun had wired a message to Moon that something was off with their star performer, the latter was of course put on edge. For one thing, performances at the FazOurs were the prime priority. They were the establishment's pride, and thus no one could afford to fall short. More importantly, however, the thought of something being off with you rankled him more than it should. He was also very aware that this detail shouldn't have been more important to him, yet it was. Sun and Moon had agreed when this whole mess started: nothing should be more important than focusing on their jobs so they could get out. And yet... there you were, and with just a smile and a wink, you kicked all rational thought out the window.

They weren't idiots. They were smart enough to at least try to keep a professional distance. Yet you spoke sweetly to them. You flirted with them. You treated them with kindness. You treated them like people instead of objects. You were, in a very sad and literal sense, their only friend. Yet that was a dangerous truth they couldn't afford to voice to you, nor were they allowed to touch you, due to their very strict protocols about having physical contact with human clientele, and consequentially, they couldn't allow you to touch them either.

Moon hadn't even been able to look you in the eye when you'd so casually reached out to touch his shoulder in a gesture of comfort, only to reflexively cringe away from you. He didn't want to suffer what look you might have been wearing, and later he cursed himself for being such a coward.

Now he watched you perform from his place at the piano, stealing quick and subtle glances so as not to draw attention where it should not be, for he should never be the focus. Earlier, the subtle signs of perspiration and hints of flush behind the makeup had been suspicious to him, however, you had the hop-step going and your singing was true as always.

The two of you pushed your way up the crescendo, and it was moments like these Moon knew Sun would envy him for. The moments where you and Moon were working in tandem to create something to mesmerize and spellbind the audience. Sometimes, he missed the spotlight, but for you, he didn't mind playing a more supporting role. Not when you had so much overflowing passion to give.

You belted out the last note, the air shaking with your well-placed vibrato and you struck your final pose. The audience erupted into applause, several of the patrons standing from their seats. You bowed and stayed there until the curtains closed. You didn't rise as Moon had expected. Instead, you fell with a soft thud onto the wooden stage.

There was barely any time for him to actually process his thoughts into a decision before his body had leaped from his bench and he was at your side. The other performers who were next up began to crowd around you, shocked and murmuring. Moon assessed the situation, eyes scanning and evaluating until his systems came to a conclusion that issued this as an emergency situation, allowing him to override the 'no touch' protocol. He placed a hand on your forehead and his sensors detected that you had a high-grade fever. He inwardly cursed, both himself for not noticing your distress and you for hiding it so well.

Moon lifted you off the floor, cradling you in his arms. “Out of the way,” he barked, and the other humans were quick to clear a path for him as he made his way to the back rooms.

-----

At his perch at the bar, where he saw all and everything, Sun was humming to himself as he cleaned his glasses for the third time and his bar table for the fifth. You had been resplendent as always, and your performance was impeccable. Perhaps he'd been worried for nothing. You did have a habit of throwing him off kilter, much to his amusement and chagrin. You always kept him guessing, something that made you both intriguing and dangerous.

You were kind and friendly to everyone you met. Well, everyone who you felt deserved it. Somehow, he and Moon had fallen into two of those lucky few. At first, Sun found your flirting to be cute, if not somewhat insincere. However, after enough back and forth, he'd come to enjoy your witty banter and lavish compliments. For most, he was just a bartender. Someone who people tended to offload all their problems and woes. But you? You'd been the first person to ask him, “And how has your night been going?” Such a simple and unassuming question, yet it was thoughtful, and it made him feel seen.

Just as he was about to take some orders, his eyes caught sight of his counterpart. With you in his arms. Unconscious.

He flashed the waiting patrons a smile. “Apologies, folks, but it seems I need to refill the ice tub.”

No one questioned the fact that it was still half full with the speed Sun uses to evacuate himself from the bar to go investigate. He catches sight of Moon heading to their quarters and tails him, ice bucket still tucked under his arm.

“What’s happened?” Sun asked in a hushed whisper as he slipped into the room behind Moon.

“They’re sick, feverish. It’s bad,” he muttered, not looking at Sun as his eyes scanned the room for an appropriate place to rest you.

The room was minimally furnished, as they weren’t allowed much in the way of comfort, there was a couch. It had several stains that hadn’t come out despite their efforts, so Sun asked Moon to wait whilst he took a few of the costumes and laid them out as a makeshift cover.

Moon set you gently down. You moaned softly, but your eyes remained screwed shut, your breathing labored. “I can’t stay,” Moon muttered, one of his hands lingering on the delicate curve of your wrist. The words were soaked with bitterness and Sun understood why.

“Go perform the next number,” Sun told him. “That’ll give me some time. Folks won’t mind not getting drinks for a bit if they’re being entertained.”

Moon grumbled but he nodded. His hand left yours, and the reluctance was evident in the twitching and curling of his fingers. He left, shutting the door behind him. Sun got to work taking some of the ice from the bucket and wrapping them in towels and placing them against your neck. You shivered and moaned again and he slipped off his jacket and draped it over you in the hopes you’d be at least a little more comfortable. He continued to dab around your face and forehead with an ice-cold cloth. For a moment your eyes flutter open, wide but not quite lucid.

Sun stole a moment to brush his thumb over your face. It was a moment that should have never belonged to him, yet he indulged in it all the same so he could later cherish it when your touch was no longer in reach.

“You stay strong, little songbird. Okay?”

You give a soft nod. “Mm-hm.”

Sun's hand carefully moved the damp cloth over your forehead. “You didn't think to maybe call in sick?” he asked, a thinly veiled layer of scolding in his tone.

“What? And miss seeing your darling faces?” You forced out, giving him a heavy-lidded smile, no doubt to mask the immense discomfort you were in. “Perish the thought.”

Sun made a huffing sound. He wanted to laugh, but he didn’t want you to think that any of this was okay. “This place isn’t worth killing yourself over.”

“I’m tired,” you breathed out, and it was probably the most honest thing you’ve said all night. So honest it shook him more than any of your flirty remarks. “How about you keep playing doctor and we’ll talk about this later, hm?”

“Of course,” Sun conceded. “Later then.”

“So, is it as nice as you dreamed?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“Touching me.” You flashed him another laughing smile, despite the weariness in your eyes. “I know it’s certainly better than I’d imagined.”

Sun sighed. If it weren’t for the smile already stretching his face, he would have had to fight to mask the one your words had elicited. “You said you’re tired. Rest now. I’ve… we’ve got you.”

“I know you do,” you murmured.

Your eyes slid shut and before long your breathing evened out. Meanwhile, outside, the big musical number was winding down. He needed to return to his post. He grabbed himself a fresh jacket, letting you keep using his other as a blanket. You would be safe in their room, with no one to disturb you while you rest.

-----

Your sleep was restless and you’re pretty sure you rolled over to vomit at one point. You had very vague recollections of pleasant cold hands on your shoulders, supporting you whilst your stomach emptied itself of what little contents it had, before gently laying you back down. You didn’t think you dreamt of cool digits brushing your neck and forehead and sweet words of comfort whispered in your ear.

Your skin felt like it was harboring a furnace and your body ached like you’d been run twice over by a cab. Any time you tried to sit up your world tilted and spun, and you were resigned to flop back like a dead fish, close your eyes and surrender to blackness where you could find a brief reprieve in your suffering.

The next time you came to, you could hear the voices of your two favorite boys going back and forth with one another.

“...let them stay sleeping here?”

“How are we supposed to get them home?”

“There’s always the hospital.”

“No,” you croaked out, wincing at how pathetic you sounded. “No hospital.”

Both Sun and Moon stopped their conversing, their attention going to you. Sun was immediately at your side whilst Moon hung back. His body was hunched, restlessly shifting back and forth, like an old bad habit he couldn’t quite shake.

The yellow and cream digits pressed against your forehead and throat and you reflexively sigh at how good they felt against your feverish skin. “Your fever hasn’t broken, and you haven’t been holding down fluids.” Sun's voice was soft, but it had a firmness to it that was trying to make you see reason.

“I’ve suffered worse, I’ll be fine,” you insisted, doing your best to give him a smile of reassurance. “Have at least a little faith in me.”

Sun leaned forward until his blue optics were practically boring into yours. “Darling, you can’t fool me. You’re not fine. You’ve barely any strength. I’m telling you this, for your own sake, you should go to the hospital where you can get proper treatment.”

You just nodded along with what he was saying, until you leaned up, closing the inch or two of space and pressing your lips to his smile. You’re not certain what possessed you to do it. Could be the fever. Could be to derail him from thoughts of taking you to see a doctor. Or it could be that some part of you had been yearning for it for some time now. You felt Sun’s body lock up for a brief moment and heard a static warble of surprise from across the room before you felt the slightest pressure against your mouth in return.

When you parted from the kiss, Sun’s gaze had gone completely white. “Sorry, love. I needed you to stop speaking nonsense for a bit.”

Moon’s eyes were dilating from red to black, staring in disbelief, his body rigid, as though it had been him you had sprung the surprise kiss on. Your gaze returned to Sun who was still white-eyed and unmoving.

“Oh dear, did I cause you to malfunction? I didn’t think I was THAT good.” You gave a weak chuckle at your own humor.

You reached out to touch his face, maybe stroke his cheek, but his hand caught yours. Not roughly, no, it was incredibly gentle. The blue of his eyes steadily returned, and you couldn’t quite fathom their gaze. Did he seem… conflicted?

“In all seriousness,” you said. “If you even think of arranging to have me sent to the hospital, I will claw my way out of here and all the way home if I have to.” You shot a glare at Moon, making sure he understood as well.

A static huff of a noise emitted from Sun’s voicebox. “What exactly do you have against doctors?”

“Take me on a date sometime and I might tell you all about it,” you said sweetly, or as sweet as you could manage given how rough and hoarse your voice sounded.

This time, Moon was the one to sigh in annoyance. You knew to them you were probably just being a pain in the ass, an inconvenience. But you could not risk going to a hospital and having it ruin everything.

“Sun, go get them,” Moon said gruffly.

Sun met Moon’s gaze briefly, and you could tell there was a secret conversation happening. It made you just a touch nervous. Sun rose to his feet whilst Moon approached where you lay.

“Get who? Where are you going?” you asked, trying to sit up.

Blue and white digits settled on your shoulder, gently but firmly pushing you back down. “The manager keeps a stash of meds for emergencies. He probably won’t miss a few, and they might help with the pain and the fever.”

There was that paranoid part of your brain that suspected this may be a trick just to placate you, but you decided to trust them. You wanted to trust them with this much at least. You watched Sun leave the room, while Moon picked up a water bottle and held it to your lips. You cringed away out of reflex. In your line of profession, you’d been taught to never accept an open glass or bottle you hadn’t opened yourself or at least seen prepared.

“Drink,” Moon ordered. “Or I will carry you out of here and cart you to the hospital myself.”

You eyed him sullenly, unsure if he could and would actually deliver on that threat. You didn’t want to risk it and thus allowed him to tip some liquid into your mouth. The water felt good on your parched throat and even better as it slid down into your empty belly. You drank a few more swallows before he seemed satisfied.

“Try to keep it down this time,” he muttered.

This time? Boy, you must really have been out of it. He took one of the damp washrags and began dabbing around your forehead and neck area. His touch was far more measured and deliberate than Sun’s you noticed, like he was worried he might accidentally break you. You released another sigh at how pleasant of relief the coolness was, wondering how the rag could stay wet against the inferno blazing on your skin. You really were a mess. You’d never wanted them to see you like this, so weak and pitiful.

“Why did you hide it?” Moon asked, his low gruff voice sounding… angry? Hurt? No, he was probably just irritated because of your stubborn refusal to accept professional medical treatment. “You could have told me. Us.”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference, love,” you told him, honestly. “I still had to perform.”

“You didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.” You say that bit with a hard bitterness, but your hand reached out to brush his arm. “I’m touched though. It sounds like you’re actually worried.”

A growl of static preluded his next words. “Of course I am.”

Oh… for a moment you were stunned speechless. But of course, there was no way he meant it the way you wished he would. Your being ill had been a risk to the establishment’s reputation. If you had fainted dead away in the middle of your performance, it would have caused an issue. You’re being here now was causing issues.

“I’ve got a little trick to help get rid of worries,” you said, a plan hatching in your brain. After all, you didn’t want to play favorites between the two of them, it would be terribly unfair.

“And what’s that?” he asked, his gaze suspicious but intrigued.

“Help me sit up?”

“You should be resting.”

“It’ll be only a moment, dearest.”

He sighed but decided to play along, surprisingly. His hand slid under your back and eased you up into a sitting position. You leaned on him so as not to sway. Glancing up, you lifted a hand and crooked your finger at him, beckoning him closer. If he knew what you were up to, he didn’t show it as he leaned down. Closer… closer… until you were able to take hold of his tie and lean up just enough to close that pesky gap. His sharpened teeth had a unique texture against your mouth, and you felt the hand on your back very subtly pull you closer before he suddenly jerked away.

Once more, his optics were shifting from red to black, as though his processors were having difficulties comprehending what just happened. “You’re playing a very dangerous game, little canary,” he growled.

“I always am,” you replied cheekily.

“Ahem.” The mock sound of a throat clearing attracted both of your gazes. Sun had returned.

With Moon’s help, you reclined back down on the sofa, his silken tie sliding from your grasp. Neither of them discuss what Sun just walked in on, but you wondered if maybe you just couldn’t hear it, or perhaps it was a discussion that would be saved for later when your ears weren’t present. A shame, you would have liked a bit of feedback. You supposed you’d just have to settle for the fleeting moments of reciprocation.

Sun approached you with a couple of small pills resting in his palm. “These should help.” Once more you were forced to accept assistance as he tipped the pills into your mouth, with Moon having you chase it with a few more drinks of water.

The rest of the night and morning passed with minimal chatter, as the pair of them insisted you save your strength and sleep. You acquiesced, though not before sneaking in a couple more teasing remarks about them just wanting to watch you sleep. You don’t know if anyone else was privy to your presence in their room, but no one, save for them, ever intruded upon you while you rested. At one point, you awoke to find Sun absent and Moon was in the corner. He was sat up, but his eyes were blank and a cord was sticking out of his back. He was… charging? You couldn’t help but stare, in awe of how vulnerable he seemed, and even more so he’d be willing to be in such a state with you there.

Searching around, you found your bag resting nearby and snagged it. From inside you pulled out a pocket watch, and it read that it was midmorning. The cabaret would be closed. Perfect time for you to sneak out. You still felt hot, and tired, and a bit winded, but some of your energy had trickled back. You could make it to the bus station, you could make it home. Much as you hated leaving without a word, you worried Sun and Moon might not let you leave in your current condition, and you didn’t want to raise suspicion with your watchdog/landlord by being unexpectedly absent for too long.

Still, you decided it couldn’t hurt to take a couple of souvenirs. You wrapped Sun’s jacket around your shoulders and shuffled over to where Moon sat. His shirt and suspenders were undone, and his tie had been set aside. You picked it up and pocketed it. Before you made your escape, perhaps it was only fair you left something behind in exchange.

You removed your set of star-shaped earrings, setting them down in place of the tie. One for each of them. A small ‘thank you’ for them taking such wonderful care of you. Slipping out of the room, you took care not to run into anyone as you snuck out the back doors and into the brisk morning, the sunlight far too bright after the pleasant dimness of their bedroom. You made your way to the bus stop, hoping the boys won’t be terribly sour about your sudden departure. You’d find a way to make it up to them. They wouldn’t be rid of you that easily.

#fnaf sundrop #fnaf moondrop #moon x y/n #moon x reader #sun x reader #sun x y/n #fnaf security breach #sun and moon #cabaret au #justfangirlwritings #sun /moon x y/n #sun/moon x reader #dca fanfic

301 notes · View notes

imaginespazzi · 13 days

Note

Nivi Nivi Nivi. How dare you deliver so spectacularly. Us fluff girls need this kind of reprieve from the delicious angst as my heart is weak and I will fall into a severe depression if not treated tenderly with random fluff chapters. Thank you mommy.

April 2030

AHHHH KK!

Ok this tension is making me sad

Bullying Ice makes me laugh poor gal

Going to the bar, ok I know immediately where this is headed lol

Azzi loves to say WIFE with such distain. I don't think we gave credence to how upset the whole Olivia situation made her. I think she prob felt she didn't have the right to be upset. But she fucking hates her hahah. 👰🏽‍♀️🔪⛹🏽‍♀️

"there isn't a wife" i don't know why but this phrasing is very funny

Ok can I just say I really like how you integrated them sleeping together here. I know you said writing the chapter with 2 sex scenes in shades of blue almost killed you lol, but as the leader of the horny anons, a reference to them having sex still satisfies me greatly haha

April 2033 - Officially not the book of Mormon.

ok wow I really expected this to pick up right where we left off with them going right from the bathroom to the bed. They have restraint that I certainly don't have.

"Because the last couple of weeks had been hell. The stupid rules had been hell. Going slow had been hell. "

YA WE KNOW ITS BEEN HELL FOR US TOO. -> How has Azzi been surviving this either, we know she is equally as horny as P. Must have a really good rabbit or hitachi magic wand or gotten a custom vibrator made in the shape of paiges fingers that is keeping her more level headed than paige

“are you cold?” lol Azzi this is lame you nerd

“I think- I think her bed might be a little small for you.” ok this is a funny visual but actually cute cause she has probably gotten into Stephies bed to read to her at night and picturing her all hunched and uncomfortable is adorable

“make me stop thinking.” -> CHOIR OF ANGELS SING HALLLLLLLELUJAH, HALLLLELUJAH, HALLLLLEEEELLLUJAHHHHHHH

Ok you said before you don't consider yourself a great smut writer but I have to again say you are AMONG THE BEST. You are so incredible at conveying the intimacy/rawness of sex without being over the top/porny lol. I love the details of this scene sooo much, I've read it about 4 times already

Azzi kissing paiges body and noting everything she missed 😭😭😭😭

“missed all of this. Missed everything about you. Missed you so much baby.” -> I COULD CRY. I am cry. 😭😭😭

“Please what?” Azzi asks coyly, fingers moving at a faster face as she hides a grin against Paige’s neck, “gotta tell me what you want baby.” -> AZZI YOU WILEY MINX

“How have you gotten better at that? Actually you know what never mind,” Paige shakes her head, “I don’t want to know that.” -> hahaha Paige don't worry Clem didn't teach her new French fingering techniques.

Azzi being vulnerable about her body my sweet sweet baby

“Hey,” Paige whispers, lifting the younger woman’s chin back up before pressing their foreheads together, “talk to me baby.” -> wow so this whole time they just needed to bang to turn into excellent communicators?!

THE OTHER TIME? You are telling me they had sex again between the flashback from the beginning of the chapter and now?!?!!? OHHH you little easter bunny you 🐣. I am thinking this was some kind of Olympics related drunken celebration in 2032 - which would be like 6 months before the start of the story 😮 . And that probably ended badly in the 'LAST TIME' Jana references in chapter 1. Cause something fucked up happened between April 2030 and the beginning of the story for sure. You weave a real web Nivi! 🕸️

they keep calling each other Baby and I can't take it and I hope it continues

Ok did not see Azzi having a tattoo coming. Hot. Wonder if Paige has one. A big OLIVIA on her butt cheek she tried to cover with a map of Bolivia

Azzi returns from the bathroom with a smile and a damp cloth as she hops back onto the bed, gently dabbing it between Paige’s thighs. -> ok this is really intimate and sweet, brb going to give my gf shit for never doing this for me

April 2033 part 2

Ok I am normally a Paige girl but you are really converting me to an Azzi girl with these visuals. Waking up to Azzi reading in glasses sign me up

“Yeah you did,” a soft smile takes over Paige’s features as she leans up to brush her lips against Azzi’s, “you came back.” -> D'AWWWWWW

I knew Stephie and Katie were gonna pussyblock them in the morning 🐈🙅🏽‍♀️🙅‍♀️

"you’re not my dirty little secret or anything." -> ok I know his made P happy to hear, but actions speak louder than words. Not hiding her in her house from family is not the same as being open in public. STEP IT UP FUDD.

"I’m not quite ready to tell Stephie about us" -> ok girl she is a smart kid she is going to figure it out soon with all these sleepovers and ya'll are not going to be able to keep your hands to yourself no that you are going coital -> These bitches need to have a status convo. cmoooooon be gf/gf.

April 2033 part 3

LOL at Katie smirking in the background of this scene. She seems like the kind of parent that doesn't shy away from talking about sex, and liking Usher with his shirt off.

YOU GUYS HAD A SLEEPOVER WITHOUT ME -> hahah oh Stephie girl trust you don't want to witness any part of that sleepover. In about 10 years you are going to be disgusted by the sounds you hear when their door is locked. Get the girl some sound cancelling BOSE* headphones. *this review is sponsored by Bose.

Stephie milking it. Ok Paige is hilarious but this scene actually got me thinking, there is going to be a time where Paige shifts a little to be more responsible/parental with her Stephie interactions. I am curious how that change might come. I honestly can't picture her disciplining her but its part of being a parent, so she's gotta learn how to do it and not give in all the time!

In-N-Out just makes me think of those pictures of Paige's fine ass at the espys eating a double double in that suit. rawr.

And Paige thinks that when all is said and done, when she looks back on her life, she’ll remember this moment as the one where everything started to finally come together. -> I hope so Paige, but the person writing you can be evil sometimes so who knows

Well, this was fantastic. I love you, you spoil us, praise be to Nivi. 🤱🏻💜

Mommy remains insane work but I had a little tiny hunch you would enjoy this chapter lmao <3

Poor Ice fr fr

Olivia and Azzi really and truly don't fw each other and for good reason.

I simply could not write 2 smut scenes in the same chapter again. I don't know how I did it then but I certainly could not do it now like I'm ngl writing smut makes me cring and I have to repeat "for the people, for the plot" to myself life sermon while I'm doing it

LMAO no longer the book of mormon at all

IN THE SHAPE OF PAIGE'S FINGERS LMFAO (hmmm ideas for myself)

Thank you! I will never think it of myself but I'm glad y'all had fun and your horniness has been fulfilled lol

That post-coital communication is just different what can I say

I am Spider-Writer welcome to my web that I myself am slightly wrapped up in because I keep weaving and occasionally forget where the threads are going lmao

HEY LISTEN AZZI'S TAKING BABY STEPS AT LEAST SHE'S MOVING

Katie has no shame and she will not let anyone else be ashamed either and I love her for it

I think there's still a little while before Paige is going to become more disciplinarian with her but she is eventually gonna have to learn, you're right.

Also

Yes this was my favorite part too tee hee

#ask #fic talk #🤱🏻 anon my personal jester <3 #notes time with nivi 💅🏽#i give you everything you've been begging for and still get called evil? hmphhh

8 notes · View notes

captain-lessship · 1 year

Text

His “Sidekick In The Chair” No Longer Pt. 3

A/n: I rushed to get this little part out. Pt 4 will be a fight scene.

Your mother woke you up, knocking on your door, “Sweetie! Pavitr is here!”

You and Toxin groaned as you rolled over, eye squinting at the wall that shined in the morning sun.

The door then flung open, it was Pav. “Let’s go! Come on! Why are you still in bed?”

He yapped at you like a chihuahua until you had your teeth brushed, fresh clothes and a spot of breakfast and tea.

He then told you what the morning would consist of and you were not exactly excited.

Candy bar wrappers littered the top of the roof as you laid, breathing heavily to the side. You had been working on mastering using Toxins abilities for hero work all day and you were ready to call it a day but Pavitr wasn’t.

“Come on! One more lap!” Pav said, blowing a whistle he bought for the occasion. He had been making you do laps, pushups, pull ups and burpees. He had turned into a very cheery drill sergeant.

Toxin swallowed the fifth bar of dark chocolate and almonds before speaking to you, “Is it too late to eat him?”

“It wouldn’t do you any good, He has no brains.”

Toxin grumbled at your comment, you raised up and looked at Pav, annoyance prevalent on your face. “Blow that whistle one more time.”

And he did.

You opened your mouth to say something but before you did, a red streak flashed across your vision and you watched as a string of crimson darted towards Pav. Instinctively, you grabbed onto it and pulled it up, watched in horror as is plunged into the television antenna above Pav.

He looked at you. You expected anger due to the fact it could have wounded him but he had this huge grin on his face like a kid in a candy shop.

“That was so cool!” He shouted, running up to you, “I didn’t know you could do that!”

You had been hard at work for the past few days. You had made a sort of under suit and helmet that you could use to listen in on the communication line, which was shared with Pav. You also updated his suit to make it more protective.

He, of course, was looming over your shoulder as you showed him what exactly you were doing to his beloved suit.

“Are you sure you should be cutting that?”

“Yes,” you sighed, “I know what I am doing.”

On the other shoulder was another critic, “I don’t want to have to hear his voice in my ear constantly.” Toxin hissed out.

“Hey!”

“Shush!” You spun around, listening intently. Sirens.

Pav’s spidey sense was catching up on what ever was making the noise, “Is the suit wearable?”

You quickly sewed the arm shut and tossed it to him. You pulled on your own suit and placed the helmet. “One, Two…” Toxin surrounded you, leaving only the eyes thin enough for you to look through, “Check?”

“Check, check!” Pav said, giving a thumbs up. “You ready for your first fight?” He said as he opened your window but before you could answer, he threw himself out of it.

“You ready, Toxi?”

“Yes and I get a nickname?”

“Yeah?”

“That is really sweet, I never thought-“

“I love you guys but come on,” Pavitr’s voice rang in, “It’s go time!”

You smiled, “We’ll talk later Toxi.” you jumped out the window and felt as a rope extended from your hands, you were web swinging.

You moved and weaved around the buildings, letting Toxin go on autopilot, following Pav’s directions.

You looked down at the city, mind drifting to when Pav once took you web swinging. He pretended to drop you and that put a end to that but you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face as you think about it.

As you swung into the vicinity of Pav, you saw it: Electricity

Light swelled and then popped due to the voltage. Electricity seemed to flow through the air and in the middle was a man who was glowing blue and rippling with strips of purple. You and Pav made it on top of a building.

“Any ideas?” He asked.

“Well, obviously water is out of the question.”

“If we get to close,” he added, “we will burn to a crisp. Or at the very least look like we licked wall outlets.”

“What’re options?” You asked, “No close range not water.”

Pav looked at you, “Is he a conductor?”

“What?”

“Does he absorb electricity?”

“I know what a conductor is, idiot. I am just wondering if you are trying to fry me from the inside out.”

Toxin spoke up. “I am. It doesn’t hurt me. It is not fun though.”

“I think we should try talking to them first.” You said.

“What?” Pav and Toxin said in unison.

“No one goes on a rampage like this for fun. They must want something or need help themselves.” You said, walking to the edge of the building.

“But what if they are just a bad person?” Pav said, walking right behind you.

You smiled to yourself, “Then you wouldn’t have followed me.”

#fanfic writing #fanfic #spiderman #across the spiderverse #pav spider man #pavitr prabhakar #pavitr prabhakar x reader #toxin symbiote #reader fic #gender neutral reader #part 3 #marvel #marvel comics #symbiote #reader has a symbiote #superhero

62 notes · View notes

fixfoxnox · 11 months

Text

D&D Is Sexy (Gaz/Jackson)

Description: All that Gaz's boyfriend wants to do for his birthday is DM a short one-shot for the 141. Gaz doesn't expect to be turned on while playing a game he was sure he wouldn't like.

Warnings: Trans! Gaz, Unprotected Sex, Fluff and Smut, Clothed Sex (One clothed, one unclothed), Couch Sex, Fingering

Notes: For my darling @wmdamadeof

It was Roach who had finally convinced the 141 to sit down and play D&D with Jackson. Jackson had been begging for months, practically on his knees whenever the subject was brought up. According to Roach, Jackson hadn’t gotten to play D&D since he’d elected to leave the military because of his leg. If Gaz did the math for that, he’d say it had been at least four years since his boyfriend had played the game.

He didn’t particularly understand why his boyfriend liked the game so much. He always spotted him watching or listening to one of those online D&D podcasts, and he just couldn’t get it. Sitting around a table, pretending to be someone else, being forced to do math (simple as it was, it was still math). It didn’t sound like an ideal evening or, based on how Jackson had described it, an ideal day.

Still, it was clearly something that Jackson loved, something that he practically adored. Roach seemed to like it too, which was why he’d suggested that as a gift for Jackson on his birthday, they should all allow him to DM a short one-shot for them. It had taken some convincing, particularly for Price, but in the end, he’d given in just like the rest of them had.

When they’d told Jackson, you’d have thought they had given him a billion pounds and told him that Gaz was lying on top of it all naked and covered in whipped cream. He’d looked like he was going to collapse on the spot and Gaz had noticed that he was shaking when he’d hugged him. It was only then that Gaz had finally realized just how important D&D was to his boyfriend.

It made the long process of designing his character and filling out the sheet feel a little less pointless.

“You guys are going to love this,” Jackson swore for what had to be the fifth time since they’d all sat down at the table. It seemed more like he was trying to convince himself than he was them. They’d all agreed to, at the very least, pretend to enjoy themselves today. Gaz was reminded of that specifically when Roach shot them all a harsh look, silently telling them all to behave and put on their best faces.

Jackson gave the group a general overview of game rules and encouraged them to ask any questions that they needed to as they went along. With that, he checked in to make sure that everyone was good to go before beginning with slow words, building an environment around them, and slowly introducing their characters into the mix.

Gaz didn’t know that his boyfriend had such a way with words. Listening to him speak was like watching a spider spinning their web, an expert and intricate weaving of lines and descriptions that had even Price on the edge of his seat, waiting for what he would say next. What exactly would he do to their little characters next? It was as surprising as it was intriguing.

They were at a banquet now. Their entire party had been captured and now they were chained to their chairs in some big fancy mansion. So far, Jackson had done nothing but set the scene for them. He painted a vivid picture of a large banquet table overflowing with their favorite foods. Their glasses were each filled to the brim with a dark red liquid.

“Across the banquet hall, you hear the large double doors begin to creak open slowly. The wood scrapes the floor, adding to the noise of the room. It's a cacophony, echoing around in the silence. When the doors open fully, your eyes find a tall figure with short black hair. He looks like a charming young man and you each notice his beauty. He wears clothing similar to something that you would find from royalty.”

Jackson stood up taller then and his entire demeanor changed. It was rather impressive and Gaz watched him with curious eyes as he began to march around the table, watching them all closely.

“What a group,” he spoke after a moment. His voice carried a thick accent and was much deeper than Gaz had been expecting. “Such powerful warriors. All come to my banquet. I am quite honored.”

“Who are you?” Roach hissed, completely in character. Despite knowing it was only his boyfriend, Gaz felt suddenly intimidated by Jackson. The look that he fixed Roach with was downright disgusted.

“Has it really been so long Talor? So long that you no longer recognize my face? My eyes?” Just as suddenly as he’d gotten into character and Jackson was out of it, he went back to describing the moment for them. “The air around you all seems to spark with energy as this man steps closer to Talor.” Jackson rounded the table and leaned close to Roach, getting right in his face, “Take a look.”

The two paused for a moment as Jackson wrote something out on a notecard, folded it, and handed it to Roach. The message was clear. “For your eyes only.”

Everyone at the table watched as Roach unfolded the paper, his eyes widening as he read what was written. A moment passed before he folded the note and glared up at Jackson. “It takes Talor a moment, but eventually realization goes across his face. Everyone can see as he tenses before he just goes,” Roach leaned forward against the table and bared his teeth at Jackson, “You!”

Jackson gave a short wicked laugh before leaning over the table again, “So you do recognize me, Talor. Good.” He pushed himself up and started to circle the table again. “New friends you have made.”

“Free us, now,” Roach demanded, “This will only cause trouble for you.”

“The only thing that consistently causes me trouble, is you,” Jackson wheeled on Roach with a snarl. “You never learn, you never stop.” He slammed his hands down on the table and met Roach’s glare with a harsh one of his own. It was an impressive act by the two men and one that only served to draw Gaz further into the story that Jackson was crafting for them. “That is why we are here. So I can finally be free of you.”

Jackson pushed himself to stand just as Soap replied, “Free of him? You’d do best not to touch him or any of us and do as he says. Better for you if we all make it out alive.”

Soap had been the member of the group who’d taken to the game the best, so it was no surprise that he joined in on the two’s conversation, his character voice near identical to his actual voice, only slightly deeper of course.

Jackson turned to him with a snap, a gleeful grin on his face. Gaz wondered how much of it was the character and how much of it was his delight at having a member of the 141 actively participate in the story he was telling. “Ah,” he stood up straight and made his way over to Soap, “The half-orc speaks. A monster made only for rage and yet…” He trailed off and came to rest behind Soap. He let his hands fall on Soap’s shoulder, giving a slow shake, “I sense…care. Do you fear for your friend Boyman?”

Gaz was nearly taken out of the moment by the reminder of Soap’s character name, but he was soon brought back to it by Soap’s low growl, “I fear what I’ll do to you if you touch him.”

“I can sense it, I can practically smell the fear radiating off of you,” he leaned down, letting himself get right next to Soap’s ear before he responded, “Just as I can taste the love that you feel for him. Affection. Adoration. A beast in love with a beauty. Tell me, Boyman McFury, do you think that an elf, that Talor could ever truly love you?”

There was a pause and Gaz could see as Soap’s mouth fell open, his face going a tinge pink as though he’d been caught. It wasn’t a secret, everyone at the table had been able to tell that he was fighting hard for his and Roach’s characters to end up together. Gaz had even peeked over and seen him drawing little doodles of their characters together in his notebook.

Jackson was an expert at crafting his story, so he gave Soap no chance to catch up and respond before moving over to Ghost. “And you, Ravencroft. Do you believe that your gods will protect you from me? Protect your friends? Everything you have built for yourself. You believe you know loss? I will show you loss.”

“You will die before you touch anyone in this group,” Ghost only responded in a monotone voice, but it was clear that Jackson was pleased with even that response.

“Won’t I?” He reached over then, placing a hand on Price’s shoulder, “I already have. And you sit here powerless. Useless.” He turned his head then, looking at Price with a raised eyebrow, “How does it feel to be powerless Captain? Once the commander of a great army and now,” Jackson fixed him with a look of disgust and removed his hand from his shoulder, “Now look at you. Pathetic. Captain Jonathan Pearce is a folk hero. A god. Look now how a god falls.”

He pushed himself away from the table and started to pace around again, only stopping for a moment when Roach asked, “What are your intentions here, Adzeiros? You think you will kill us with ease?”

“Yes,” Jackson answered simply. He continued moving around the table and after a moment came to a rest behind Gaz, his hands landing softly on Gaz’s shoulders. “I intend to kill you all. All to finally rid myself of your stain Talor.”

“My friends have done nothing!”

“They have aligned themselves with you,” Jackson’s hands tightened on Gaz’s shoulders and, for a moment, Gaz could feel a chill go down his spine, “That is enough. I will rid myself of all of you. Tear you limb from limb until I can feed your worthless meat to my dogs. I will be the death of each of you.” He paused for a moment before, “Well, perhaps most of you.” Gaz felt one of his fingers begin to trace up his neck gently and he felt himself go warm. “Perhaps I will keep one,” Jackson leaned down and Gaz could feel his breath against his ear and the warmth of his lips only inches from his skin. He felt overwhelmingly hot for a moment and goosebumps seemed to raise along his skin. “I have other, more pleasurable, uses for you.”

As soon as Jackson had touched him and he’d gone, lifted back up to move on with the story, detailing to the group as the tall elf exited, leaving them alone to try and find a way out of their binds. With it, Gaz felt as though he’d been left on an edge, left high and dry with a boiling desire flooding through his bloodstream all to pool between his legs.

He hadn’t known that his boyfriend could play a part like that. He hadn’t known that D&D could be so…sexy.

The so-called “short” one-shot had lasted the entire day. From ten in the morning to almost eight at night before they’d finally finished, killing Azdeiros and earning each of their characters a happy ending. Gaz had been sure that Soap was going to cry when Jackson had detailed the small homestead that his character and Roach’s character had built together to live in when they wanted a break from adventuring.

Everyone had seemed quite pleased with the game and, by the end, even Ghost had gotten more involved, getting more into his character and the gameplay than anyone else. Jackson had even allowed Ghost to paint a vivid picture of his character using magic to crush a wyvern they’d been made to fight between two boulders. It had been rather graphic, but both Jackson and Ghost had been more than excited as they played off of each other to build the death for the creature. Jackson had excitedly told Ghost that he should try to dm sometime, that he had a natural talent for it. Ghost had shrugged it off, but they’d all seen the small smile that tugged at his lips from the words.

And now, as Gaz waved goodbye to Roach, Soap, and Ghost from the door of his and Jackson’s shared apartment, the day was over. Gaz was left alone with his darling boyfriend who was still buzzing with energy from the day's activity.

Normally, Gaz would have questioned where his boyfriend found all of the energy, normally he would have been surprised to still see Jackson so chipper at the end of the night as he worked on removing his prosthetic to switch into his wheelchair. Normally, Gaz wouldn’t have felt such a strong buzzing of energy under his own skin, calling for the man he was watching from the doorway of the living room.

“Well,” Jackson called to him, shooting him a quick grin as he set his prosthetic to the side, “what do you think? How was your first D&D experience?”

Gaz gave him a small smile and crossed the room, picking up his prosthetic and moving it to the usual place for him. “I didn’t know you were such an actor, it was…impressive.”

“That?” Jackson gave a chuckle, “All roleplaying love. ‘Fraid I wouldn’t be able to do any of that in any other situation. Something about D&D, you know?”

“Not in any other situation?” Gaz questioned, turning around with a carefully raised eyebrow. “Nothing other than D&D?” He could feel his face warming up again, but he did his best to squash any of the nerves he felt back down into his chest.

Jackson watched him for a moment, tilting his head curiously. “What are you thinking?”

Gaz gave a quick shrug, trying to appear nonchalant as he spoke, “I just thought your…performance was good. I, um, I enjoyed it.”

A moment of silence passed between the two before a look of knowing seemed to cross Jackson’s face, followed by an easy grin. Gaz shuffled a bit as he watched his boyfriend lean back casually against the couch, spreading his legs wide in a position that was all too enticing. His hips lifted for just a moment, allowing him to get more comfortable in his seat. Gaz’s eyes were drawn to the movement, his mouth going a bit dry.

“Kyle, baby,” Jackson’s voice had dropped just a bit, going a touch deeper. It was something much closer to the voice he’d used for the villain of their campaign and Gaz found himself resisting the urge to squirm. Jackson watched him for a moment, a twinkle of delight in his eyes, “You must have really enjoyed my performance, huh?” His eyes raked down Gaz’s form and Gaz knew that he knew.

“Shut up,” he grumbled out, feeling all too embarrassed at himself. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“What part of it got you?” Jackson gave him a teasing grin and tilted his head curiously, “The character? Or was it just me talking about using you for my pleasure?” Gaz could feel heat burning at his face and he glanced away quickly, refusing to meet Jackson’s eyes. “Maybe a bit of both?”

“Alright now,” Gaz brushed him off and went to move toward the kitchen, “It’s late, we should get ready for bed.”

“Kyle.”

Gaz stopped in his place, turning slowly to face the other man, something warm settling into his bones as he met the low look that the other man gave to him. There was a short moment of silence before Jackson lifted a hand and quirked two of his fingers, motioning for Gaz to come to him.

Gaz could feel his breathing stutter for a moment before he caught himself, taking in a deep breath to calm his nerves. His hands were still shaking as he obediently stepped closer to Jackson, moving until he was standing between the other’s parted legs.

Jackson leaned forward and looked up at Gaz with low pleading eyes. One of his hands found Gaz’s hip, taking hold and rubbing soft circles with his thumb. For a brief moment, his fingers slipped below the material of Gaz’s shirt. He seemed to think for a moment before he spoke, “I have such pleasurable uses for you, my love.”

Gaz could feel himself shake as Jackson’s voice matched that of the character he’d done earlier. It was so similar to his own, yet there was this tone to it, some sort of warm sultry touch that tainted every word and wormed itself into Gaz’s brain. “You,” Jackson began to tug Gaz toward him, “mean more to me alive. You are more than the others, worth more. Perfect. Beautiful. Enchanting.” He paused, “Made for my pleasure.”

Slowly, he guided Gaz onto his lap, forcing his knees to each side of his thighs and their hips to press just lightly against one another. Just that slight movement was enough to cause a hitch in Gaz’s breath, warmth curling in his gut as the words that Jackson spoke rushed right between his legs.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, looking down at the look of pure confidence and smug amusement that his boyfriend wore. It was clear that Jackson was channeling some of the character that he’d teased Gaz with during the entire game and it was still working, still making Gaz warm and bothered and all too willing to do whatever Jackson asked of him. “What, um,” he let his hands rest on Jackson’s shoulders for a moment before beginning to trail them down over his chest slowly, “what do you want me to do.”

Jackson’s hands tightened for a split second before they guided his hips forward, encouraging him to grind their clothed bodies together. Gaz gave a small sigh of delight at the bit of friction against his aching cunt. He could tell that he was already growing slicker, the simple movement and words from Jackson were enough to have his body reacting without hardly any stimulation.

“Just this,” Jackson continued guiding Gaz’s hips against his for several moments before he finally pulled back, spreading his arms over the back of the couch to relax back and watch Gaz with a smirk on his face. “Show me how much you want me, how you’ll do anything to please me. Then I’ll touch you.”

Gaz let his head fall back, a groan pulling from his throat at those words. He continued moving his hips, grinding down harder against Jackson and enjoying the feeling of his boyfriend growing harder against him. “Yes,” he breathed, his hips jumping a bit as the seam of his pants rubbed deliciously against his clit. “Fuck, yes. Yes.”

Jackson watched him with careful eyes, twinged with a bit of darkened desire that Gaz had never quite seen there before. It pulled a shiver down his spine and had his cunt pulsing with the desire to be filled. He was sure his boxers were going to be soaked by the time Jackson finally stopped torturing him and touched him.

As Gaz rolled his hips again Jackson shifted, lifting his own hips up to meet Gaz’s movement. Twin groans fell from their lips, desire painting Jackson’s face as he let his mask slip just a bit. It wasn’t for long, only just enough to allow Gaz to see just how much his boyfriend was also affected by the little game that they were playing.

“So perfect,” Jackson breathed. His hands caressed Gaz’s face before trailing down his neck and over his chest. They kept moving lower, only stopping as they reached the edge of Gaz’s shirt. “Take this off,” he growled after a moment, “I want to see all of what is mine.”

Gaz didn’t think he’d ever stripped himself of his shirt quicker than he did at that moment. The useless piece of clothing was discarded with a toss, lost to the void until he went looking for it. As soon as his skin was exposed, Jackson’s hands were on him.

Despite the possessive mask that Jackson had put on, his touch didn’t change. It was the same as it always was when he touched Gaz: sweet and reverent. Filled with so much adoration that it made Gaz feel dizzy. He adored it, leaning further into Jackson’s hands with a small groan, his hips stuttering for a moment.

“Look at you,” Jackson muttered, his fingers tracing teasingly along the underside of Gaz’s pectorals, skating oh so close to his nipples but never touching. It was near torturous for Gaz, who was desperate for some sort of stimulation from his boyfriend’s hands. “So fucking perfect.”

“Paul,” Gaz panted the other's name, prepared to beg for what he wanted, “Touch me, please. I need it. I need you.”

“Ah,” Jackson pulled his hands away completely. Gaz gave a pathetic whine and sent his boyfriend a pleading look. When Jackson didn’t respond, he took one of his boyfriend’s hands in his own, trying to tug him forward to force him to touch. Within a second, Gaz found his hands restrained behind his back and his body flipped around.

Jackson pulled him back, manhandling him until he was back on his lap, only now his back was pressed flush to Jackson’s chest and he could feel his boyfriend’s beard rubbing against his neck. It was enticing and more than enough to have him squirming in desperation. Now Jackson had taken all of the stimulation away from his aching cunt and he was near the point of getting to his knees and begging.

“Remember love,” Jackson pressed a careful kiss to Gaz’s neck, “You’re here for my pleasure. Not the other way around.”

“But-”

“No.” Jackson's voice was harsh and Gaz found that he enjoyed his boyfriend being so firm with him. He never thought it would be something he would be into, never even considered it a possibility. But he assumed that the day was just a good one for discovering new things about himself. Like the fact that he quite enjoyed it when his boyfriend took such tight control.

Jackson held Gaz in place for a quiet moment before he let one of his hands slip down to the waistband of his pants. He toyed for a moment with the top button before swiftly undoing it and allowing his hand to slip below Gaz’s pants and boxers.

Gaz squirmed a bit in Jackson’s hold again, though Jackson still hadn’t even touched him, Gaz could feel his warmth. He was so close, his hand so close to where he desperately needed to be touched. Where his body was practically aching just for the man behind him. “Paul,” he pleaded again with the man behind him, adding a small whimper to the end of his words, “please.”

“You beg so sweetly for me.” Gaz gasped as he finally felt Jackson’s fingers touch his aching cunt. It was only a small caress, just a simple touch along his dripping slit, but it was enough to have his hips bucking up and his head tossed back against Jackson’s shoulder. His mouth fell open as Jackson dipped one of his fingers just inside of him before tracing them up to begin rubbing slow circles against his clit.

He was panting, sweat slicking at his skin as Jackson made a point of touching him slowly, dragging out every bit of pleasure that he could from Gaz’s body. It was already overwhelming enough, but Jackson wasn’t satisfied. He let his free hands trace along Gaz’s naked chest for several moments before his hand found Gaz’s nipples and began to slowly play with them.

He teased them with careful flicks and pinches, all while his other hand continued to finger and tease at Gaz’s cunt, nearly making him cum just from finally having his pent-up fantasies from the day fulfilled. “So wet, love. Let me guess, you’ve been dripping like this all day for me.” Gaz could feel himself go impossibly hotter at the low words whispered into his ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. My pleasure is your pleasure.”

“Paul, I,” Gaz cut himself off with a desperate gasp as Jackson slipped a finger fully inside of his cunt. Jackson’s thumb was still toying with his clit, but his finger was working slowly at stretching out his sopping wet hole, working to prepare Gaz to take his cock. “Fuck, fuck,” he whined a bit, “please, baby, I want to take care of you. Let me make you feel good.”

“I will,” Jackson assured him, a soothing kiss pressed to his neck. “First I have to get you ready baby. Let me enjoy myself. Let yourself enjoy this.” He started carefully working a second finger into Gaz’s cunt, scissoring him open slowly as he did so. Gaz’s eyes nearly rolled back at the pleasure that struck him from Jackson’s hands teasing his body. The hand playing with his nipples was just as good as the hand playing with his cunt and all of it was swirling together to create a tightly wound tension just above his cunt that threatened to snap more with every growing moment.

Gaz had no choice but to try and fight his shaking legs and desire to buck his hips into Jackson's hand and force the harsh pace that his body was desperate for. He could only toss his head back and hope that Jackson would take pity on his needy body soon.

Jackson was hard himself and Gaz was sure that he could feel the other’s cock aching through his jeans. He could also feel the subtle thrusts of Jackson’s hips, a simple attempt to give himself some sort of stimulation to his cock as he stole pleasure from Gaz’s body.

Jackson curled his fingers inside of Gaz for a moment, the whine pulled from Gaz’s lips was nearly sinful and it was enough to pull a matching groan from Jackson’s lips before he pulled his fingers from Gaz’s body and away from his cunt. He gave a quick slap to Gaz’s thigh before ordering, “Get rid of the rest of those clothes, unless you want them shredded.”

Gaz wasted no time in following Jackson’s orders. He was too desperate to argue, much less feel annoyed at the implication that Jackson would destroy any of his clothes. They both knew it wouldn’t come to that, not when his thighs were damp and he was forced to peel his boxers from his body rather than simply kick them off like he normally would.

When he turned back to Jackson, he expected to find his boyfriend working on taking his own clothes off. Instead, he found Jackson still reclined on the couch, his legs spread wide with his hand around his hard cock. He hadn’t bothered to take anything off, only unbuttoned his pants and pulled down his underwear enough that he could free his cock. Something about that made Gaz shudder, a low gasp pulling from his throat as his breathing went heavy.

Jackson watched Gaz for a moment, his eyes raking over him in a way that forced Gaz to resist the urge to squirm. Those eyes were filled with so much heat, so much lust. And, Gaz noted an enticingly sharp prick of possessiveness. He wanted that possessiveness carved into his bones, he wanted his body marked down to the molecules as belonging to Jackson. And Jackson knew it.

Jackson stroked his cock for a long moment, his eyes never leaving Gaz’s body, even as precum leaked from his slit, he just made a point to spread it down his shaft while staring Gaz down. It seemed like his gaze was just glued to Gaz’s body. Gaz couldn’t make any comments about it, his own heated gaze stuck on the sight of Jackson working his hard cock. Gaz could feel his cunt clenching at the thought of finally having his boyfriend inside of him.

Finally, Jackson raised a hand and motioned Gaz forward with two fingers, the same way he’d done it only ten or so minutes earlier. Gaz stumbled toward him, as though drawn with an invisible string connected to Jackson’s fingers.

With Jackson’s guidance, Gaz settled back on his lap, neither of them able to tear their gaze away from the other. “That’s a good boy,” Jackson rumbled, helping to slowly guide Gaz down, rubbing the tip of his cock along Gaz’s entrance for a short moment. With a simple roll of his hips, he let the head of his cock slip inside Gaz’s body.

Gaz struggled to breathe for a short moment at the feeling, but soon he was lowering himself down slowly, his breathing still heavy as he slowly sank down onto Jackson’s hard cock. Jackson did his best to guide him, gripping tight to Gaz’s plush thighs as they shook under his hands. “Fuck,” his head fell back just slightly, but his eyes stayed on Gaz’s face. “So good for me baby, such a good fuck toy for me.”

Gaz could only whimper at the words, feeling his cunt clench around Jackson’s cock in response to the heat that they caused. Jackson gave a choked-out laugh at the feeling, that smug look returning to his face with something wild in his eyes. “Liked that, did you?”

Gaz didn’t answer, he just let his eyes fall shut as he finally managed to sink all the way down on Jackson’s cock. He was completely out of it, the feeling of being so full and his clit just slightly rubbing against the hair at the base of Jackson’s cock, was so fucking good. He was just reveling in the feeling when a harsh smack landed on his ass, causing his eyes to fly open as he met Jackson’s gaze with a shocked look.

“I asked you a question.” Jackson punctuated his words with another quick roll of his hips, pulling a gasp from Gaz’s throat. “Answer me.” Jackson started to lift Gaz off of his cock, quickly setting a deep slow pace. His cock seemed to split Gaz open, near impaling him with a slow and steady pleasure.

“Yes!” Gaz’s mouth seemed to work despite the white static flooding his brain. Pleasure rushed through his body. A consistent slow-building pleasure that buzzed through his veins and made his legs shake and his toes curl. “Yes, yes, Paul, please! Need, need- fuck, need you to use me, take your pleasure from me!”

“I intend to, baby.” Jackson gripped Gaz’s bare hips tighter, fucking into him with gritted teeth and something akin to a growl ripped from his throat. His fingers dug into the fat of Gaz’s hips, hard enough that Gaz was sure there would be bruises decorating his skin in the morning. Beautiful blues and yellows and purples that would show Jackson’s claim on him. Painting him with his touch.

Jackson made good on his promise, guiding Gaz’s hips as he fucked into his tight cunt, groaning at the feeling of the other clenching and fluttering around his cock. Gaz did nothing but grip tight to Jackson’s shoulders and let himself be used. His mouth had dropped open and the only things he managed to get out were desperate pants and moans of Jackson’s name, dripping from his tongue like a sweet nectar. It only served to encourage Jackson to move quicker, fucking Gaz with greater desperation.

Gaz was pushed closer and closer to his end, the feeling of his cunt being filled over and over and his clit being abused with every thrust of Jackson’s cock and every brush of the hair at the base of his cock against him. It was too fucking good. Too fucking good and Gaz wasn’t going to last. He was too pent up from Jackson playing with his cunt and now finally having the other’s cock bullying its way inside of him…it was too fucking good.

Luckily for him, Jackson seemed to be stuck in the same boat because, before he could react, he found himself flipped to his back on the couch, Jackson’s body hovering over his as he began pounding into Gaz’s cunt, chasing his own release and driving Gaz closer to his own as he did.

“So perfect for me baby.” Words spilled from Jackson’s lips like a fountain, praises for Gaz, compliments piled on compliments, desperate thanks for doing something as simple as playing D&D with him on his birthday. It was less of the game they’d been playing and more of the Jackson that Gaz was used to having pressed between his thighs. He adored it. He adored his boyfriend.

Jackson made it much easier to adore him when one of his hands dropped between their bodies, frantically rubbing circles into Gaz’s clit. Gaz’s head knocked back at the feeling, his brain fizzing out as everything seemed to go higher and higher before finally coming down in a heavy crash, waves of pleasure flooding through his body as he shook and nearly screamed at the feeling.

He was so far gone that he hardly noticed as Jackson cursed, his hips stuttered for several moments before he finally buried himself deep into Gaz’s cunt, filling him with warm sticky cum.

There was a long moment of silence, the only sounds echoing in their silent apartment being the sounds of their labored breathing. Neither of them spoke, but Jackson was soon to practically collapse against Gaz’s chest, letting his mouth and tongue explore the sweat-slicked skin beneath his touch. Sweet kisses and swipes of his tongue, speaking volumes of his affection for Gaz with the reverence that he touched him with.

Gaz wrapped his arms around Jackson’s shoulders, a tired smile tugging at his lips as he pulled the other man up higher, bringing their mouths to just hover over one another’s. “Happy birthday, Paul.”

Jackson responded with a simple, “I love you,” before pressing their mouths together in a slow sweet kiss.

#kyle gaz garrick #paul jackson cod #kyle gaz garrick x paul jackson #gaz/jackson #call of duty #call of duty mw #call of duty modern warfare #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #john price #d&d

30 notes · View notes