#i knew what i was getting into but i was unlucky with the side effects | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom · 1 month

Text

Does the End Justify the Means?

CX-2 (Clone Assassin) x Reader

Summary- CX-2 never planned on forming a relationship, but once he did he had to protect it. Even if it meant killing hundreds to keep you away from Hemlock.

A/N- SPOILERS FOR THE BAD BATCH FINALE. I feel like people forget that deep down, CX-2 is still a clone being forced to serve the Empire. Maybe I'm delusional though!!! MENTIONS OF BURNS AND TORTURE!!

Word Count- 5,253

"You know, CX-2. There was once a time where I considered scrapping you. The very cloning program that made you..." Hemlock started. "You were hard to control. My methods had little effect on you. Considering you had little to live for, well that didn't help."

CX-2 stood, arms crossed behind his back. He listened intently, staring at the grey border of the wall.

"You were too, hmm. Rebellious should I say?" He walked slow circles around CX-2, studying him. "That was until I found your little secret out." Hemlock laughed at his own wit. "Who knew a medic trainee would have an Assassin Clone falling so hard!" He seemed to think the situation was hilarious.

Silent, CX-2 contemplated killing Hemlock where he stood. It wasn't possible though, he was smarter than that. He probably had a weapon on his beloved as they spoke. Perhaps Scorch was with her now...

He didn't want to think about it, so he didn't. Opting to stare back at the wall again.

"Truly, I created you better than that. The problem with you clones is your loyalty. It would typically disgust me. Though, unlucky for you, this all plays out in my favor." CX-2 swallowed hard at his words.

There were not many things that scared CX-2, but the thought of Hemlock hurting you consumed him. Striking him with a never ending fear.

"You will bring me Omega. Unless, you want an accident to happen. That would be tragic, wouldn't it?" The man asked, taunting the clone. All while fiddling with his gloved hand.

For the first time in many minutes, CX-2 spoke. "I will retrieve the girl."

"Good, I do not doubt your abilities." Hemlock stepped closer, right in The Assassins face. "Dire consequences are at stake..."

CX-2 made sure his next stop was Pabu.

CX-2 had no intentions of forming any friendships, especially not a relationship. You, however, came natural to him. In one of Hemlock's attempts to have complete control over CX-2, a burn was implemented on his waist. He remembers the day vividly, as it was the first time he'd met you.

You were only on Tantiss because of your mother. She worked for the Empire as a medic, a famous doctor of some sort. While you never had the knack for the medical field, you enjoyed helping people. It was in your blood after all.

CX-2 was taken to a special room for clones of high status. You were there by sheer accident. A mishap guided you to his side.

"Uhm, hello sir." You introduced yourself. "I'll be your medic today. What's your name?" You asked, a little nervous to be assessing a clone by yourself. He wore black armor, head still covered. You'd never seen that style before, maybe he was new?

CX-2 just stared up at you, a hard gaze. Out of fear, you started to breathe a little heavier. He could have killed you there and no one would have batted an eye.

"Sir, is something the matter?" You pressed on, trying to mask yourself with professionalism.

He continued to stare, eventually pointing at the chart In your hands.

"Of course, uh. CT-4340?"

CX-2 didn't say a word, just tilted his head. You looked at him with doe eyes. "Are you CT-4340?" you hesitated.

"My code is CX-2." He commanded out, a modulated voice appearing.

You almost jumped at the sound. "I uh, seem to have the wrong chart. I am so sorry, I should get a higher official-"

Under his helmet, CX-2 resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His shoulder dropped, annoyed. This caused his side to jolt. The pain of the burn on him was strong, but he withheld any reaction.

You, on the other hand, seemed to notice the very small twitch his waist gave out. "Where are you hurt?" You asked, the words now flowing with a motive in mind.

CX-2 instinctively started unbuckling his chest piece. You flushed slightly, ashamed you couldn't be more serious in the situation. "Do you need help?" His head rose quickly, falling after looking at you for a second. He didn't respond, just continued to take his upper armor off.

Guess not...

The second you saw his skin, you suppressed a gasp. It looked gruesome, like something had repeatedly been burning him. With a deep breath, you shoved down any lasting fear.

Getting to work, you prepared bacta and bandages.

He was still, almost too still. You'd seen plenty of procedures and medics fixing up clones. There had been wincing, complaining, and fidgeting on lesser injuries. You would have expected tears and need of an anesthetic for any other man. But he was still...

You prayed you didn't hurt him more than he already was. You knew your hands were clumsy with inexperience. If you did, he made no effort to tell you nor pull away.

From then on you saw each other more and more. While your mother made sure you got plenty of experience working on clones, you were extremely busy. Never getting a second to actually talk to CX-2. A particular encounter with a clone in the hangar would change this.

You were helping a trooper with a broken arm- Simply wrapping it to prevent further injury. You crouched down, examining the break.

CX-2 was just passing by, heading to see what his next mission was. He barely took note that a soldier under his command broke an arm. Why would he? Clones die everyday, including ones under CX-2.

He did however take note of you. He recognized you immediately. He surprised himself, why would he care about some medic? He'd never remembered the ones that had worked on him in the past.

At this, he stared at you. He took in your silhouette, something deep down told him to bask in your every feature. So, he did.

Of course you felt the beaming eyes of CX-2. It made you nervous. Was there something on your face? Did you make him mad? It distracted you.

"Ow!" The clone exclaimed in pain, face screwing. He yanked his arm up. It was an accident, you were sure. A response to the pain you caused unintentionally. CX-2 didn't seem to think this when he saw the clone raise his arm to hit you.

It all happened so fast, you didn't have time to lean back or even register what was happening. The next thing you knew was that the unidentified clone was on his back. CX-2 stood over him, a vibroblade at his neck and foot on his chest.

Falling onto your butt, you gasped and regained some sense. "CX-2...."

He slowly turned around to face you. The two of you looked at each other. His hand still expertly rested centimeters from killing the clone.

Adrenaline pumping, you spoke. "it's okay. It was an accident."

He pushed the clone back with his foot, hand raising. With the vibroblade still wielded, he stormed to you. Your heart pumped viciously, though not in fear. If he was going to really hurt you, he would have let the clone hit you.

No, your heart thumped in your ears in anticipation.

He grabbed you by the forearm with his free hand, careful of the blade. He yanked you up, off of your position on the cold floor.

You briefly noticed eyes around the hangar now in your direction. You grew nervous, only at their judgmental looks.

The quickness of it all made your head spin. You stepped out, trying not to fall. His hand still gripped your arm, he stood unmoving. He let you catch your balance, just watching you.

"Excuse me, what is going on here?" A vice admiral questioned, appearing from your left.

CX-2's modulated voice said your name. It was harsh and cold, but you somehow knew it wasn't directed at you. "She is my medic."

"And? What gives you the right to attack a clone for no reason?" The admiral demanded.

CX-2 didn't like being questioned. Before you could get a single word in, CX-2 pulled you with him as he turned to leave the hangar.

"Wha-" You decided not to protest, the man was on some kind of mission. One he had made for himself the second he saw a threat to you.

He guided you two through the complex halls and levels of the lab. You were beyond lost, but he seemed to know where he was going. After a few minutes of paced walking, you stopped him.

"CX-2, where are we going? I don't want to risk getting reprimanded by the admiral." You were cautious, the smallest of complaints could get you reassigned. Tantiss was not for the faint of heart.

"You won't." He would make sure of that. He continued to walk, this time a little slower.

Finally, you found some familiarity in the halls. You noticed he was leading you to the very room you met in. The examining room for special operatives.

He pulled you into the room, making sure the door shut behind him.

"Examine me." He demanded.

You were dumbfounded, "Excuse me?"

CX-2 actually rolled his eyes this time, even when you couldn't see them. In response to your confusion, he removed his left arm's armor.

A gash that went from the top of his shoulder to before his elbow was present. "CX-2..." Your sadden voice spoke.

You didn't actually have clearance to be in that room, nor the supplies. But you worked nevertheless.

"Please, sit." You asked. He followed your instructions immediately, sitting up on the exam bed.

Just as the day you met, you retrieved bacta and med patches. You coated the wound in extra bacta, then prepared the gauze wrap.

"So," You held his arm up gently, starting to wrap it. "How did you get this? Was it your latest mission?" Your hands carefully worked, moving under his arm.

"No." Was all you heard.

"Oh, how did it happen?" You asked, trying to make conversation.

His skin twitched as a subconscious response when you smoothed over it.

"Better if you don't know." He kept his eyes on the wall ahead of him. "Sorry I asked..." You really were. He said nothing.

After a few more moments, you made sure the wrap was steady in place. "I think you're done!" You smiled at him. He dropped his arm at his side.

After, he promptly nodded, but gave little indication on what to do next.

You looked around, feeling a little awkward.

"So... What division are you from?" You tried to ease the tension.

"Project Assassin." He said, being short.

"I haven't heard of that, wha-" He inturpted you. "Tell me about you."

You blinked. You'd only seen this man a dozen times, many of those in passing. Even so, a shot of nerves flowed in you each time. There was something special about him. It was like your heart knew something your brain didn't. You weren't a child though, you knew 'love' was something of fairy tales. That there must be a perfectly rational reason you were feeling this way around him.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

Though, if that were true, why did you sit up next to him and tell him everything?

From that day on, the only medic he allowed to work on him was you. The number of visits varied, depending on how evil Hemlock was feeling. CX-2 tried to hide the backstories from you as much as possible, sometimes even ignoring your questions.

Though, late at night, when he'd sneak into your room, he'd tell you the truth. At first he would listen. Anything you'd tell him, you had his full attention. Then, right before you fell asleep, he'd whisper his secrets.

He'd whisper them to the only person he ever trusted, you. Then, it was your turn to listen.

You cried for him, the pains he had went through. He was the perfect clone in your eyes. The only problem was how stubborn he was, no matter how hard Hemlock tried- you were still the only one who could persuade him.

Despite his grunts of protest, you'd just hold CX-2 some nights. Using your fingers to rake through his hair, cradling his head. You tried you best to give him the comfort he had never experienced before.

Everything was going so well. You would continue your training, he would continue his missions, and at night, you would talk and he would listen. You would spoil him with affections under the nights bask.

Of course, all good things must come to an end.

The day Hemlock found out about you was the worst day of CX-2's life.

CX-2 was called in for a meeting about his next mission, something he was used to. He only received orders from the highest of officials, so seeing Hemlock or Scorch was common.

"I have... a special mission of some sort. One I cannot risk incompletion of." Hemlock began.

CX-2 stood upright, ready for instructions.

"Now, despite what we have tried to instill into you- I do not want you to listen to any other orders. I think this particular mission requires your mindset." His words didn't effect CX-2, he'd heard worse.

"One of your fellow operative has been captured. Alive. I will not accept him risking our organization."

"My orders?" CX-2 asked.

"Find and neutralize him." CX-2 nodded at his words.

"You have 48 hours to kill him." Hemlock walked up to CX-2, arms folded behind his back. "If you fail, that...medic... you are so fond of? She will reap the consequences of what you sow."

It was impossible to cover up the way CX-2 breath hitched. If he didn't have a helmet on, Hemlock would see his eyebrows scrunch in anger.

"Yes, that's right. I know about her." Hemlock said, his voice mocking. "Oh, don't fret my little assassin. She will remain unharmed, that is... unless you fail your duty..."

"I trust you will locate him and rid the republic of any information?" Hemlock taunted.

"Yes sir."

How? How did Hemlock find out about you? He was so careful... He immediately headed to your quarters. Damned everyone else, he pushed through crowds and odd stares.

He banged on the door, fist closed. If you hadn't opened in the next 10 seconds, he'd shoot the door down.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." You 'tsked.'

"Oh, CX-2." You breathed out once you opened the door. Unsure if he was there for pleasantries or business.

He shoved his way past you, pressing the button to close the door shut.

"Wha-" He stormed around your rooms, it was quick considering there were only two. A bedroom and bathroom.

He held his blaster up as he checked every crevice of the room. His eyes glanced back at you quickly to make sure you were still there and alive.

"CX-2." You raised your voice. His head shot your way. "What's happened? You're scaring me..."

He paced up to you, removing his helmet as he walked. "He knows about us." Was all he managed out, throwing his helmet to the floor in favor of grabbing your cheeks gently.

Your face dropped, heart pounding in your ears. "How? I don't understand!" You started to breathe heavily.

"I just had to make sure you were safe." His gloved hands felt cool on your hot skin.

Your mind wandered, what would they do?

"I have to leave now." He said, dropping his hands. "No, wait. You can't just drop that bomb and leave!" You had so many questions, and you didn't want to be left alone freighted.

"I do not have time, if I don't complete my mission he will kill you." Your blood ran cold. "I am so sorry I brought you into this. I should have never stepped between you and that clone." He readied himself to exit the room, turning and putting his helmet back on.

"CX-2!" His shoulders dropped, he stood silent. You walked around to face him.

He let you reach your hands up and lift his helmet off. "I'm not upset at you. I only want more time..."

"I can't."

"I know." At your last words, you pulled him down by the collar of his blacks. Now level, you kiss him. Scared it would be your last.

The few seconds your lips touched felt like an eternity. All the time you needed with him...

Eventually, he pulled away. "I-"

"I know... please be safe..." You asked only one thing of him.

He nodded, placing his helmet back on snug. He then walked out your door, your thoughts consumed with wishes of his safety.

CX-2 would fulfill his mission, killing the compromised Operative. Though, that was only the first time he'd have to leave your grasp to keep you alive...

CX-2 reminded himself why he was currently headed to Pabu. 'Dire consequences are at stake' echoed in his mind.

He would capture Omega. He had no care for the innocent people he might have to kill. In his eyes, all of his actions were justified in the name of your well-being.

He never told you of his endeavors, now being sent on more gruesome missions than ever. He knew you'd be disappointed in him, but he also knew he had to always protect you. No matter the cost.

While expertly leading a fleet of soldiers, the only thing that let CX-2 think straight was you. He filled his mind with memories of your laughter. Of the times you begged him to choose a real name, even when he protested. When you first touched, when you first kissed.

He worried for you until the second he had Omega tied up on his ship.

Even after, he was anticipating his reunion with you. He had the girl, he had what Hemlock wanted. He could see you again.

And he did... Hemlock was consumed with his experiments and testing on Omega. So much he that didn't bother CX-2 for a few days. Oh, it was bliss.

The time you shared reminded you of before anyone knew you were together. You both still had your duties as clone and medic, but spent any free time with each other.

You laid in your bed, a glance at the clock scolded you for being up so late. You paid little mind to it, just enjoying the feeling of CX-2's arms around you.

With your head now buried in his chest, you let your hands wander. Slipping under the top portion of his blacks. He used to shiver reluctantly when you felt his skin, now it seemed like second nature.

You loved tracing his scars, the texture consuming you. While they were painful memories, they were treated with love and tenderness. He looked at his scars and thought of you, how you took care of him so nicely and delicately. Not Hemlock.

A light flickered from his panel brace. The one that rested on your nightstand. It lit up the room, and CX-2 immediately reached for it. he pulled away from you, but was careful to keep a connection with his leg still feeling you.

"I have to go." He said, standing to put his arm and chest armor back on.

While he was always quick and determined when hearing from Hemlock or Scorch, he was frantic here.

"Did something happen?"

"Nothing, do not stress. I love you." He gave you a quick kiss on the lips, and an affectionate rub of your thigh before putting his helmet on and leaving.

You sighed and leaned back when the door closed again. This was slowly becoming the new normal for you. You still savored every spare second you had together...

Just as you rolled over to fall asleep, the door opened. "Did you forg-" You jumped up, almost hitting your head on the baseboard of the bed. It was Scorch.

"Come with me. Now." He grabbed your arm and pulled you rough out of bed.

"Excu-"

"You are under arrest until further assessment." He forcefully put you in handcuffs.

You tried to resist, but put up no real fight in comparison to the trained clone. He grew tired of you and stunned you with his blaster.

You fell unconscious.

"You activated me?" CX-2 asked over Comms, like he would in any other situation.

"It seems we have another problem with our favorite girl." Hemlock said.

Omega...

"You see, she has managed to escape with the other children. Did I mention she also freed the zillo beast?"

CX-2 listened intently, not moving a muscle.

"You have been the only operative capable of capturing Omega thus far. I will see that you will find her again. Before she finds some way to leave the planet." CX-2 could hear the frustration in Hemlocks voice. It made him flicker a smile.

"Affirmative."

"Oh, and as a little motivater, I think it would serve you well to know your medic is currently held up in a cell." Hemlock went radio silent, leaving CX-2 to head to the exposed section of the base. The hole the Zillo beast left, and the way Force 99 was headed.

Your head throbbed, vision a little blurry. Raising your head from the cold of the floor, you noticed you were in a cell.

The room spun around before you sat up. Your whole body ached. Not to mention the confusion you were feeling.

Looking around, you saw other prisoners lining the walls. You knew exactly where you were. The hall where all the traitors and experimental clones were kept.

Were they going to experiment on you too? Was CX-2 okay? Did something happen to him that made Hemlock finally get you?

The building shook with a loud boom, it did nothing to help your nerves. It sounded like some kind of cannon went off.

"You okay?" A clone asked in the cell across from you.

"I don't know..."

With the effort and passion of a man whose entire reason for living was at risk, CX-2 and the other Clone Assasins were able to capture the rouge clones.

With his blaster barred in his hands, CX-2 guarded the three prisoners. He was occupied with the thought of what The Empire was doing to you.

You must have been so scared in a cell... He knew you didn't like small spaces. With his new fury, he closed his fist, doing yet another round of the platform they were on.

Boredom was unable to strike you, anxieties kept you busy. Your mind ran wild with the possibilities of CX-2. For a moment you questioned if he had just abandoned you as a whole, but quickly shunned yourself for bringing it up.

CX-2 loved you, and wouldn't dare leave you to rot.

"Look!" A clone yelled out, just as you saw a small girl and a storm trooper running by.

What were they doing?

They crept around the corner, swiftly blasting and taking out 2 storm troopers in the process. The girl got to work on the main computer that operated the cells.

"Hey kid, whats going on?" Someone asked.

"We're breaking you out."

Seconds later, your cell door opened. You slowly walked out, unsure what to do. What would CX-2 do in a situation like this? He'd probably tell you to keep your head down and blend in. Stay out of trouble, 'for his sake.'

You did just that, creeping out of the cell and hiding within the groups of clones.

Apparently, the 'storm trooper' was a clone, so was the girl. They were on a mission to free their three brothers, recruiting clones as they did so.

Was this the big mission CX-2 was called to? To capture the people they were here to rescue?

"We've checked all the cells, they aren't here."

You knew where they probably were... The training room. The very room that tortured and left your beloved marked. You didn't dare say a word. As much as you hated Hemlock and his 'methods,' worse things would happen if CX-2 failed his mission...

"Well... they could be in the training room." Damn, another clone had though the same as you.

They decided to head there, a few turning for an easier escape.

What should you do? Warn CX-2? You weren't raised as a soldier, you had no training. No fighting experience. You knew how to save and help, not attack and kill.

A small hand was rested on your arm, the girl from earlier. "Hi, I'm Omega."

You looked down to her. "I know it's kind of scary, but we have to fight for what's right.." If only she knew your true intentions...

"You're right... i'll come with you..." All you wanted was to find CX-2.

So, you did. Following them to the training room, they planned an attack from the lower circle.. You, however, had a new idea. To come in through the main balcony. The one that led directly to Force 99.

You managed to sneak away and climb the steps that brought you to the main doors.

"Hey, you! Are you supposed to be here?" A trooper stopped you.

"Yes sir," You gave him your chain code, "I am a medic. Hemlock has requested my services in the Training room." You lied, faking a confidence you never had.

"I never heard about Hemlock ever needing a medic in the training room..."

"Well if you want to ask him, while the Zillo beast is one the loose, he has new prisoners, and while his top experiment is lost- Be my guest. I just don't think he'd be very happy with you questioning his methods." You crossed your arms behind your back, something you'd seen CX-2 do many times.

"Fine." He moved out of your way, letting you head to your destination.

You walked to the door, ready to put your mother's clearance codes in. With a steam they opened, leaving you to witness a terrible sight.

The 3 captured clones were out, fighting. You got there in time to see the big clone burst out of the glass, tackling a special operative.

With the sound of the door, the man with a bandana looked your way. Along with CX-2, who rose swiftly upon seeing you. You distracted him long enough for the clone without a hand to blast him in his side.

You gasped as you watched CX-2 fall in your direction.

With an electrospear in his hand, the bandana man stepped to him. He only managed to zap him once before you ran in.

"No!" Your scream pierced out, you threw yourself onto CX-2. Using your body to cover his.

You didn't care if you died then and there, at least you'd die in CX-2's arms. You'd at least die together...

"No, don't!" You squeezed your eyes shut, prepared for a shock that never came. You felt a weak hand raise from under you to grip your clothes.

Tears streamed down your face violently. Pattering on CX-2's armor.

"You do realize the crimes he has committed..." The man panted out, he was also wounded.

"Please, it was for me... It was all for me..." You sobbed out. "Hemlock threatened my life..." You buried your head in his neck, holding him tightly.

"Hunter, no. We should kill them both now." The handless man spoke.

The man you assumed to be Hunter didn't have time to respond.

"I swear we wont follow you... Hemlock is probably on his way to his private ship... I swear..." Your words were muffled but they understood well enough.

"We are wasting time, lets go." Hunter commanded, the two of them left.

You gave out a whimper, "CX-2... Please... Stay with me." You pried his helmet off. He was in a rough state.

His eyes struggled to focus on one thing, but he still tried to find your face. "It'll be okay, just let me grab a med pack." You went to pull away, but he gripped you tighter.

"Let me.. hold," He coughed, "You.."

"You are not going to die on me. You wouldn't do that to me, would you?" You tried to joke. He shook his head, 'no.'

"Then let me do my job, and help you." He still held you tightly. "Please... you deserve to live..." He let you go.

It was only half a minute, you grabbed a medics kit that was nearby and began patching him up.

Making quick work of taking his armor and blacks off. It reminded you of the first time you'd done this to him. A very similar wound on his waist.

You forced him a pill, and squeezed out as much bacta as you could from its packet.

"Can you roll over for me, baby?" You asked, helping him get on his side.

He complied as much as he could, and you were able to patch up his other side.

"Okay, this will hold you over. I know the closest procedure room, a droid can give you a proper examination." You helped him stand, an arm under his own to keep his balance.

"You'll be okay, we'll be okay..." You whispered praises and words of affirmation to him. The walk was extremely painful for him, you could tell he was hiding most of it from you.

Lucky for both of you, a droid was able to identify where the blast was and give him a proper cleaning of the wound.

He was still woozy, but forced himself to stand. "We have to go. Tarkin is on his way.." CX-2 strained out. He was stubborn and refused any medication that would cloud his mind.

"W-where? Your ship?" You were scared, not just for CX-2, but your futures as well.

He pressed a few buttons on his panel brace as you picked up his helmet.

"Turn left." He instructed you all the way to his ship, even with the pain starting to blur his vision.

The two of you somehow managed to make it to his ship, you opened the door with his panel brace and sat him in the co-pilot's seat.

You clicked away, starting the ship up. Though, you did need some guidance from him.

You had never flown a ship before, but knew you had to take the risk to save CX-2. It was wobbly, but you raised the ship and let Auto-Pilot blast you into hyperspace. It had a set of coordinates in, ones you didn't know the location of.

A groan made you turn to your lovers direction, you were at his side immediately. Crouching down you spoke, "Hey, its okay... We're far away. You can take the pain medication, its just us two."

He peaked open an eye to look at you, his face barred disappointment in himself. Almost like he was a lesser man if he took the meds.

"Take them. If not for yourself, for me." You pulled them from your pocket. He did take them, minutes later he felt the relief.

You took another look at his wound, it was stable for now. You figured that he would need a cleaning and new bandages in a few hours. Hopefully his medkit was fully equipped on his ship. If it was, you'd be able to last many days without needing to land.

You stood, pulling his head to your breast. "Shhh, rest now. We are both safe."

He truly did feel safe in your arms, like he didn't have to always be on guard. A huge change from his normal. One he'd hoped he could live out with you for the rest of his life...

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I got a little carried away with this one... I just had to get this idea written down!!!

Tags-(lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss @dangraccoon

155 notes · View notes

futbol16 · 1 year

Text

Just an FYI • Ana-Maria Crnogorčević

Request: can I please request jealous protective anamaria over R?

Word count: 3k

Going into the Champions league semi final you were quite surprised to see that Barca would be going up against Arsenal. Nonetheless, you were excited. Especially because of how the last games ended two years ago. You knew the reds have improved their team and game a lot since then, but that didn’t stop you from picturing all the goals your team would send soaring past Zinsberger.

You sat next to your usual bus buddy, Ana, on the way to the stadium and the two of you spent the bus ride laughing and sharing the snacks you were allowed to eat.

“How many goals do you think we’ll score?” she questions with the same cheeky smile on her face that you are wearing, the both of you more than ready for the match.

“I reckon 2, maybe 3.” you nod confidently, following your statement by your own question. “What would you predict for the end result?”

“3-0” she shrugs nonchalantly and you chuckle at her antics, leaning into her side more. Your cheeks are dusted with a light pink shade as Ana keeps an arm around you.

“Okay, 3-1 if we get unlucky.” You can only nod along to her words, knowing that the team is in its best form and a strong Arsenal won’t stop you from scoring.

Walking out into the tunnel already clad in your Barca jersey you take your place behind Jana. Your focus is solely on the pitch just outside the tunnel but you’re also aware of the stares of some players from the Arsenal line to your right.

You breathe in deeply to calm your nerves and then you slowly exhale. Ana senses your slight distress from behind you and without a second thought she slides her hand into yours, giving it a squeeze. It seems like her gesture has the desired effect because the pounding of your heart is becoming less intense and you feel more at ease. Your thumb rubs over her knuckles in appreciation and the Swiss international’s heart swells at it. Just as quickly as her hand slipped into yours, you let go of it though and Ana’s eyes snap down to your hand in confusion, only to then be nudged from behind and she realizes the team has started walking out.

The game is intense to say the least. It is apparent that even without Vivianne and Beth, Arsenal are more than capable of creating chances. Barca is doing good too and although the possession remains mostly in your team’s, Arsenal’s defense is proving to be hard to get through.

You’re experiencing it first hand because as soon as you're near the penalty box, a certain defender takes you out in some way or another. Every single time. More than half of these tackles have been borderline fouls which frustrates you and your team on no end. Irene and Ana can barely contain themselves enough to not spring into action and give the defender a bit of their own medicine.

The first time you were brutally side tackled, her boots catching a bit of your ankles, you thought you knew who it was. The flash of the red jersey and the aggression of the tackle is one you’ve experienced from an Arsenal defender before. However, when you catch sight of the name on her back, you’re beyond surprised to see it’s not McCabe who’s been trying to end your career.

“Bloody hell, what has gotten into her?!” you mutter under your breath as Ana helps you up and the referee finally blows her whistle. There’s a fire in Ana’s eyes as she glares at Catley, one that you recognize in every other Barca player’s eyes too. They’re all ready for revenge. It’s a well known fact about Barcelona, any Barca team. If they mess with one if you, they won’t come out alive.

“What? Ref that was nothing, it was the ball! The ball!” Steph shouts in fury, mimicking a ball with her hands.

“You might need glasses, honey.” Mapi retaliates and while Ingrid tries to stifle her laugh, Ana next to you doesn’t hold back. The referee interferes before it can go any further and hands the ball to Irene, telling her that the team is going to be awarded a free kick. Steph Catley’s expression falters slightly as she watches the ref write her name on the yellow card.

“You confident to take it?” she raises an eyebrow with a small smile, knowing just how much you enjoyed shooting from long distances.

As you stand behind the ball just halfway in between the halfway-line and the penalty area, your eyes rake over the players scattered around in front of the goal. Your gaze connects with Ingrid’s and all you need is the small nod she gives you before you’re sending the ball into another dimension with the force you kick it with. The Arsenal players expected you to line your shot up for a header but when the ball goes soaring above them and straight into the goal, they stare after it with wide eyes, their bodies still in a position that tells you they were ready to head the ball away. Dumbfounded, that’s what they were. All of them.

In an instant you’re surrounded by the team as you do a knee slide in celebration before getting into the group hug.

“I fucking told you they weren’t ready for you!” Ana shouts in your face as she touches her forehead to yours and you laugh at her words while your body heats up. Even as the team moves back into position, the winger stares after you with a prideful look.

Your happiness is short lived because barely fifteen minutes later and just before halftime, Frida manages to slot the ball into the goal, just out of reach for Panos.

Despite the equalizer, the girls' heads are held high as you head to the locker room, ready for the halftime speech Jonatan would be giving.

Ana-Maria’s hand subtly resting on your thigh grounds you enough to absorb everything the coach says like a dehydrated plant. Ana on the other hand, keeps most of her focus on you during those fifteen minutes and she doesn’t miss the pink tint of your cheeks as her thumb grazes your skin just below your shorts.

Truthfully, the two had been dancing around your feelings for each other since the start of the season. It started when the team was out for team bonding and you ended up dancing with a girl at the bar - far too intimately you had to admit. It resulted in endless teasing from your friends and a scowl on Ana’s face. You didn’t understand why she was upset, and for the first few days neither did Ana. But as the weeks went by and her urge to be closer to you only grew, she had come to the realization that she had strong feelings for you.

You shared these feelings, you’ve always found Ana attractive but you were scared to shoot your shot with the older woman, scared of the embarrassment you’d feel when you would be rejected. The blonde never made a move on you either, only giving small signs here and there that weren’t enough to give you a clear indication as to how she felt. She has only recently gotten as touchy as she was now, her hand rarely leaving you.

The second half of the game is a hard fought one. Frida and Stina are on the move any chance they get and Steph still hasn’t given up on trying to sprain your ankle. In spite of their clearly good advances on goal, your team has switched up their strategy as well. Zinsberger can’t catch a break in goal with each shot Caro and you send her way, and you’re proud to say that Sandra has stayed clean in your goal. The defenders are working extra hard to keep the ball away from the penalty box.

Just as the clock hits the 60’th minute mark, Ana sends a through ball that ends up in front of Aitana’s feet who continues the pass towards you. You know you have to make a quick decision before Catley comes pouncing on you. Pass or shoot. The ball is still in the air. Pass or shoot. The red of Steph’s shirt appears in your peripheral vision, you can’t let her close. Shoot.

With a jump, your back still facing the Arsenal goal, your foot connects with the ball in an overhead shot. On your descent towards the ground you merely manage to crane your neck and watch as Zinsberger attempts to punch it over the crossbar.

You aren’t given a second to react before a body lands on you, many following behind and you lay under the pile of blaugrana players with a satisfied grin on your lips.

“VAMOOSSS!!”

The switch flips after that and Barca take advantage of Arsenal’s momentary discouragement. Another shot fires into the back of the goal, courtesy to Caroline and you don’t even bat an eye at the way Steph barrels into you when the game is resumed because it is only five minutes after that when the full time whistle is blown. Barca is through to the final.

You ignore the Arsenal players around you and the crowd as you dance around in happiness with your teammates, celebrating the win.

“3-1 like I told you.” Ana winks at you and you roll your eyes at her.

“It’s not like I said it would be different.” she chuckles at you and then breaks out in a laugh when you gently shove her.

Once everything has calmed down a bit, you shake hands with the one red player you haven’t shaken hands with. You’re surprised when you’re pulled into a hug by the defender but you pat her back anyway. Steph pulls back from you though she keeps her hands on your biceps and looks you over with a smirk.

“You made my job extra hard today, you know.” she informs you as her thumbs rub into your bicep and you let out a nervous laugh.

“Yeah well I didn’t know the yellow card McCabe’s spirit would possess you.” The Australian throws her head back as she laughs and her hands slide lower on your arm before her fingers graze over yours.

You barely resist from pulling back from her touch, mildly uncomfortable in the situation you’ve found yourself in with the defender who’s been trying to separate your ankles from the rest of your legs.

“Do you want to swap shirts?” the heavy accent rings out close to your face and she doesn’t give you time to answer as she pulls the shirt over her head. You can’t refuse now though. Steph’s hands play with your Barca kit but she’s quick to put it on once you’ve handed it to her.

Steph’s eyes remain glued to your toned abdomen as she continues lightly praising the way you’ve played. Just as her fingertips are about to make contact with where she’s been staring, a hand slides across your torso.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’ve been holding as you recognize the arm and your body relaxes into hers. Ana’s hand remains on the waistband of your shorts, clearly displaying not only her protectiveness but also rubbing it into the defender’s face when her fingers softly scratch the skin of your abdomen, soothing you more than possible.

Steph’s eyes finally part ways with your abs and her head snaps back up to your face. You almost laugh at the frightened look that washes over her expression.

“Everything okay here?” That's not a question, all three of you know that.

The Swiss international stares her down, a mix of emotions swirling in her eyes but Steph can tell none of them are good. The brunette clears her throat in discomfort, averting her eyes back to yours as she rushes out a goodbye.

“It was nice to meet you - well formally, you know, apart from the many tackles.” she huffs out a laugh but stops when Ana raises a daring eyebrow, urging her to finish.

“Erm, well thank you for the shirt and goodluck in the final” the Australian almost squeaks out and you decide to cut her some slack as you give her a quick hug. Still, the blonde’s hand remains on the small of your back and she gives Steph one last glare over your shoulder before the defender practically sprints back to her own team. Ana snorts at that and you lift your gaze to meet the older woman.

“Thank you” you tell her sincerely as you lean into her side and you discreetly press a small kiss to her shoulder. The winger’s face heats up right in front of you for the first time ever and she struggles to say anything for a second. A smile forms on your lips as you see her all flustered. You’d be lying if you said your knees weren’t close to giving out from the softness of her eyes and the seemingly star struck expression on her face.

“I’ll go catch up with Ingrid and Frida, okay? I will see you after” you give her arm a squeeze and Ana nods at you. She stares after you as you join your national teammates while you struggle to pull on the shirt and she chuckles under her breath when Ingrid gives you a helping hand.

“Du bist eifersüchtig” A voice speaks up next to her and Ana jumps slightly. Lia grins at her with a knowing look and Ana can’t stop herself from rolling her eyes.

“Nein.”

“Ja. Don’t think I didn’t see whatever that was just now. Oh and the hand holding before the game?” the Swiss women share a look and then Ana sighs in defeat as she finally pulls her national teammate into a hug. However, she is quick to redirect the topic as she instead opts to ask about how her friend has been doing since the last time they’ve seen each other.

A few minutes later both teams start heading inside and you hug Frida goodbye as you detach from your Norwegian group. You lean your head on Ana’s shoulder, who without your knowledge glances down at you with a fond smile.

“Hi Lia” you greet the Swiss Arsenal player and she hugs you.

“I also better get going. See you next time” she tells the two of you and then she gives Ana a teasing smirk who thinks she knows what her friend is about to say. “Sag ihr, dass du sie liebst!” the confusion on your face is one she expected but the blonde next to you had been totally caught off guard by what she said. But, a second later, she does give a small, shy nod.

“Come, let’s not make them wait.” you follow the blonde into the changing room and then onto the bus.

It doesn’t come as a surprise to you when by the time the bus leaves the car park, half the team is passed out and deep in sleep. The dark sky outside the window can only hint as to just how late it is. You’re sitting next to Ana in one of the last rows in the bus, like usual.

Unlike the rest of your friends though, the two of you are wide awake. You’ve always been known to be very energetic so you can’t even think of resting your eyes. Meanwhile, Ana-Maria next to you is deep in thought about what Lia had told her.

You linking your pinkies together is what breaks her out of her trance and she turns to you. The dimmed lights of the bus give you a halo and as the light from the street lamps shine through the window Ana recognizes the glimmer in your eyes.

“What’s got you lost?” you whisper, mindful of all the girls who are sleeping around you. The blonde’s eyes are dark with desire and the urge to tell you everything. She swallows hard as you patiently wait for her to say something.

“Look Y/N/N, I just really-” she stops mid sentence, wondering if it was the right thing to tell you. You reach out with one hand to cup her cheek gently, bringing her gaze to meet yours again.

“You really what?” Ana opens her mouth again and her eyelids flutter at the way her body heats up when your thumb strokes over her cheek. She has never felt so flustered around someone. She can feel your breath fanning against her face, only now noticing that she has subconsciously leaned closer to you. “Ana?”

“I really like you” she chokes out and she’s ready to panic but your soft touch calms her slightly. “Actually, maybe I'm in love with you. I don’t know if that’s a wrong thing, I get it if you don’t feel the same way. Just like, an FYI” she rambles in a hushed tone and you swear you’ve never seen her act so nervous.

The butterflies in your stomach are going crazy however and you’re overwhelmed with joy knowing that the Swiss woman feels the same way you do.

“Ana, I’m in love with you too” you tell her softly - although truthfully you thought it was obvious - and her eyes meet yours. The adoration in your gaze makes her blush deeper and you smile at her, your own face heating up at the close proximity as well as the confession.

“Just an FYI” the two of you giggle quietly and you press your face into her neck to muffle the sound. Ana lets you stay there for a second before she eases your head back and her eyes move to your lips. Your mouth falls open in anticipation and you gently squeeze her thigh.

“Can I?” Ana breathes out.

“You know you can” is all it takes for Ana to dive right in and claim your lips. You softly gasp into the kiss, your senses heightened and utterly in love with the way she kisses you so passionately, like she’s been waiting for decades. It’s only for a second that you pull away to take a breath and then you’re back in, lips molding together and moving against each other in a fervent yet loving way, uncaring of the people around you.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” Ana whispers against your lips while your fingers tangle in her hair.

“I’ve wanted you to do this for so long.”

#ana maria crnogorcevic x reader #woso imagine #futbol16 #woso x reader

613 notes · View notes

therandomartmaker · 10 months

Text

(In Case I Don’t See You) Good Afternoon, Good Evening and Goodnight.

DPxDC

After a reveal, things go strange for Danny. At first, he thinks it’s just the lingering effects of having his vigilante identity out in the open. Sam and Tucker tell him he’s being paranoid, and Jazz doesn’t talk much with him because she’d left for college. She only listens to his words and talks him through the feelings, a steady presence.

It’s then that he realises that his ghosts had been showing up… regularly. Not erratic and randomly, they were almost scheduled; he’d checked once, and they had always shown up when the time was even. He’d said this to Sam and Tucker, Tucker looked concerned but Sam brushed him off. “They’d have to coordinate for that, Danny,” she said, “Do you really think Skulker wouldn’t take every chance possible to fight you?”

His ghosts were getting more agitated. It wasn’t hard to defeat them, they were just. Angrier. They also went down easier, but got back up faster. They also were disjointed in their banter, and it got worse as time went by, fights quieter and more… emotion filled.

It’s only when Danny spots several white vans nearby his fights that he realised he’d forgotten about the GIW.

Danny rushed home, to the portal- he’s unlucky, or perhaps rather fortunate, that he stumbles upon the GIW in his home, talking to his parents. It’s an easy decision to turn invisible.

“Keeping Patient Zero in the Truman cage is working well, but it might be catching on. Unscheduled fights give us more subjects, so you’ll be lent Subject-E and Subject-SK in two days, in the private laboratory, as they are currently useless in field and hinder the process.”

Patient Zero? Subject-E and Subject-SK? Useless? What process?

Truman Cage? …Danny knew that movie. Watched it with Jazz a few years before, because Jazz had a project on it, wanted to do inquiry on unethical ‘imprisonment’ and isolation.

Static buzzed through the air, and Danny heard the GIW agent pick up an ecto-proof walkie talkie. “Report, Patient Zero has been missing for two minutes, unknown whereabouts, may be heading or already at FW Household.”

Danny swore mentally, flying away to the roof of the Nasty Burger, still invisible.

Shit. What were they doing- what kind of shit had they already done?

…What could Danny do to stop it?

—

Batman stared at the report in his hands. Phase One of the Ghost Investigation Ward’s plan was going well, to capture and learn everything they can about ectoplasmic beings and a ‘villainous creature’ that has taken control of a small town in Illinois. Supposedly, the ‘creature’ was a volatile destructive being that repeatedly put the town through constant attacks.

Everything about it smelt fishy, and he’d found about the ‘GIW’ was flimsy, and a strangely large amount of money was being siphoned into it. The Fenton research being used was also something that shouldn’t’ve been published, biased and clearly contradictory in areas.

The information blockout was just asking for investigation.

sorry that this isn’t more for the story! I may write more for this, but idm this being used as a prompt post either! If you respond to this in a separate post, please tag me, i like to see what y’all make, don’t just link this post and run y’all. Also, i’m like 80% sure someone’s made this already or at least done something similar, so if someone could find and link that, that’d be awesome

On a side note; some notes for this specific thing, but freedom is encouraged and this is mainly for myself because ik i’ll forget about this.

The GIW learnt danny’s id before the reveal and figured out very quickly that they wouldn’t be able to do anything to him because he’s legally human and he hasn’t had biological testing to make sure he isn’t human. They got ghost confirmation via the fenton parents after the public reveal, but had already informed the fentons of the possibility of danny being a ghost and proposed the ‘Truman Plan’ to them.

The plan was to set up another ghost portal with coordinates set to the same area the fenton’s portal lets out and recapture whichever ghosts danny lets go there, and this works exponentially well. They gain a bunch of speech capable ghosts to experiment on, and decide quickly that they’d start ways to put them under control and make them stronger, in order to, eventually, capture danny.

Phase Two is weakening Danny and looking into his skillset and how to counteract it.

Phase Three is actually capturing Danny.

Danny figures out that the GIW has agents everywhere, bugs everywhere and nowhere is safe. The only people he is absolutely certain he can trust to not make the GIW aware he knows he’s entrapped is Jazz, Sam, And Tucker, but since the last tw oare in the bounds of the GIW, he can only talk to Jazz to plan (he flies up up up and calls because tucker had them up on a private network so the only risk was being overheard, really)

B only discovered the GIW while passing over recent government records, and sets up one of his disguises to visit the town, eventually.

He ‘just so happens’ to be bowled over by Danny Fenton one afternoon and sets up a white noise generator to tell the boy the JL was on his side. After all, something wasn’t right, here.

#randomartmaker writing #dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #my writing

378 notes · View notes

phyrestartr · 6 months

Text

HOUND | Miguel x M!Reader

Geneticist!Miguel x Guard!Reader Part 1 W/C: 2.5K | Part 1 of 2

Slight NSFW, zombie AU, apocalypse AU, mentions of exploitation and abuse, body horror, gore, immoral research and experiments, power imbalance, reader is a criminal, miguel is a scientist, dark themes, part 2 ends on a positive note, reader is morally grey, bottom!miguel, top!reader, sorry there's lore lol

Note: Wanted to post this bad boy in full, but the second half sorely needs some revising T-T It should be finished and up fairly soon, though! I hope this is ~intriguing~ for those who like darker stuff! Also I did a light edit on this part, but I really just want to get it out so lol sorry if things sound stupid/don't make sense asdjkf;l

There exists a cure.

That's what Alchemax declared. And it was the truth, just not the full truth. Not something the public would be happy with, anyway.

The so-called "cure" was…unreliable, only recoding the RNA of select individuals for a reason that Alchemax's geneticists struggled to identify for the longest time. But after combing through the files of each expendable inmate and finding similarities, it became clear: those who'd been in the presence of nuclear energy, or high amounts of radiation, were suitable candidates for the vaccine.

"Guess it's a good thing we didn't shut down those mines," Aaron had sneered at the board meeting. "Otherwise we wouldn't have the army of immune mutants running around for us."

Miguel rolled his eyes. Sure, the idiot wasn't wrong, but he was taking it too far; plenty had died because of their experiments, and plenty more of the "immune" were sure to die with the unknown side effects of whatever the vaccine was bound to show in a matter of years (or in mere months, if they were unlucky).

"It's a start," Miguel begrudgingly added. "But intentionally damaging civilian RNA with radiation, and then repairing it with S-2099, especially when we're not aware of any side effects yet? The UN won't have it. Can't imagine civilians would love it either."

"Well, it's either get bit and die, stay afraid and die, or get painlessly exposed to a blast of radiation and then maybe die if 2099 doesn't fix them like we think," Liv offered with a shrug. "I, for one, would be honoured to die in the name of science."

Miguel coolly looked over at her. "Thanks for volunteering."

Liv's expression twisted. The energy in the room would've exploded if it hadn't been for Stone's interjection.

"We will not be commencing civilian trials. Not until success rates increase with approved subjects provided by the state." The man spoke so steadily, so reasonably, like sacrificing the lives of orange jumpsuits meant nothing.

They were dismissed soon after. Screens flickered out, holograms faded, and Miguel found himself alone with the other few scientists left at their Nueva York location.

He stayed seated, vaguely aware of the others filtering out and murmuring amongst themselves, but his thoughts demanded his attention–he knew, even if the government didn't approve of essentially soft-nuking colonies of survivors, that Tyler Stone would find a way to do it, and would label it an accident. The man, his birth father, was ruthless, cold, calculated–

"Sir?" A voice, your voice, cut through the silence. Miguel looked over his shoulder and found you still waiting, standing perfectly still by the door.

"Sorry, I was just…" Miguel sighed and rubbed his face before standing. "Nevermind. Don't worry about it."

Of course, you didn't say anything, instead nodding wordlessly and following your ward out of the room. Each step you took was punctuated by the shifting of your firearm against your thigh and the heavy thumps of your boots against the polished floors. Miguel used to hate your presence, think it unnecessary, but soon he grew to feel comfortable with you as his shadow.

You, his powerful, mutant guard dog.

"I can't fucking believe what this is turning into," Miguel muttered on the way to his quarters. "Too many unanswered questions, too many risks. And they don't care? We haven't even run further simulations yet–and we can run simulations with different alpha rays and different subject samples. It'd be harmless." The door hissed open and Miguel walked in, sorely wishing he could slam the door for once. Why did everything have to be automated?

"In. Now," Miguel called when you stopped short of his residence. You obeyed, wandering inside before the door slid to a close behind you, and locked.

You had reason to be nervous, Miguel knew that, too. Each key scientist in the building was assigned one of your kind, one of the immune mutants, and were free to do what they wanted with them. Sex, torture, chores–all of it was on the table. All of it had been asked of your kind. Done by your kind. Miguel figured that was why you kept a wall up. You hardly spoke, didn't request anything, never complained–all in an effort to keep the peace between you and your owner.

Miguel threw his white coat aside before stalking up to you. "Let me see," he mumbled as he held your jaw and tilted your head as he shone the light from his phone into your eye.

Your pupils reacted at twice the speed of a normal human's, growing into the tiniest of pin pricks when the bright white flare assaulted your senses. Your eye twitched the slightest bit, but you remained still for Miguel.

"Reactive. Not dead. That's good." He put his phone away, and examined the scarlet blotches contrasting against the natural hue of your iris. It was a relatively new side effect experienced by most of your batch, but you were amongst the more severe cases, if not the most severe case. Most of his peers didn't seem concerned by it, and Miguel could understand, seeing as it appeared to only be cosmetic, but the increased reactivity of your pupil accompanied with the bloody colour intrigued Miguel enough to keep tabs on it.

"Any changes lately? To appetite, sleep, anything?" He asked as he let go of your jaw, nearly smiling as you tried to follow his touch for a moment longer like a sleepy cat. "Maybe neediness?" Miguel teased.

You huffed lightly through your nose and looked around the main room of Miguel's living space. "Tired, I guess."

Miguel's nerves smoothed with the sandpaper scratch of your voice. "Tired. Might be the anemia again. We'll draw blood tomorrow, see if you need supplements or another infusion." Miguel found himself mumbling now, going on about your health and your changes, wondering out loud what the best course of action would be to help you adjust to whatever was happening to your body, but you didn't say anything. You never did unless provoked.

Miguel decided to provoke. He needed to speak, to be spoken to, to hear someone else’s voice right now. "What do you think about all this?" He called from the bathroom after washing up for the night. He poked his head out a moment later when you didn’t comment.

“I know you were listening,” he prodded again over the toothbrush jammed into the side of his mouth. “The other ones don’t, but you do. I can tell by that look you get.” he waited for you to respond while he brushed his teeth, but you didn’t. You hadn’t moved from your post by his front door, actually, stood against the wall, arms crossed and staring forward like you were listening to everything beyond the door. Miguel wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen you sit down. He didn’t know if you’d ever laid down before.

After he finished washing up for the night, he decided to try again.

“You really gonna keep me in the dark?” Miguel asked as he walked up to you, arms crossed as well. He couldn’t help but feel smaller and smaller the longer he waited in silence, waited to hear your gravelled voice. He couldn’t grasp why he was so desperate for a friend suddenly, but he was. He really was, and he wasn’t finding it in you.

“Forget it. Doesn’t matter anyway,” Miguel mumbled, turning away from you and rubbing his face tiredly.

“Don't have much of an opinion.”

“What?” Miguel turned back around, brows raised as he waited for you to continue. Your gaze peeled from the ceiling and fell to him, like you were waiting for a reprimand of sorts, but Miguel wouldn’t, not when he tried so hard to get a peep out of you.

You shrugged and looked elsewhere. “Don't care what happens to civilians. Not my problem.”

“It's the world's problem,” Miguel suggested. He didn't want to start an argument, but he didn't want you to feel so blasé about the fate of everything. “The more civilians that get infected, the more the world loses.”

“Thought that was a good thing. Last I heard, the world was pretty overpopulated.” You said it so easily. Miguel would have shrugged it off if he didn't know about the blood on your hands, the crimes you'd committed, the evidence that you really, truly, did not give a shit about humanity.

Miguel scoffed, a bitter, bewildered sort of thing. “Y'know, I used to pity you for this,” he started, gesturing to the soldiered-out state of yourself, “but you might be less human than those things out there.”

“Probably.”

“You don't even care,” Miguel laughed again. “Did you care when you killed that family?”

“An eye for an eye,” you replied.

“Right, right. Then what about your daughter? Did you care when–” the world spun before his back cracked against the wall. He grabbed your wrist and squeezed when your hands fisted in his shirt, ready to trigger your kill switch with one click of a button on his ring, but he didn't need to; you simply held him there, boring holes into his skull with your diamond-tipped stare.

“You jokers don't know when to quit,” you said. “Always have to drag a kid into the equation, ‘n then act so fucking shocked when you end up dead ‘cause of it.” A sigh slipped past your lips as you leaned in. Miguel wanted to meet you halfway. “Fuckers like you make murderers out of men like me.”

Oh. The violence rippling through your crackling voice went straight down, into the pit below Miguel's stomach and coiled into something frightfully decadent. He wanted your hands around his neck. He wanted you to mutter more threats into his ear. He wanted–

He wanted you.

“Let me touch you,” Miguel blurted. “Your skin.” You gave a reaction then, eyes blinking away shock and throat clearing with a strangled grunt, but you didn’t say no. You didn’t reject him. In fact, you looked him up and down in question, curiosity peeking through piercing eyes.

“You're a deranged fuck, aren't you? Getting all hot ‘n bothered from a threat.” You reached for the straps of your kevlar vest, then, and Miguel’s nerves jolted with the sound of the buckles clicking loose.

He scrambled to you and held your hands. He wanted to do it himself, to unwrap your bindings and see what laid beneath. Your hands fell, and Miguel took over.

The warmth bleeding from your clothes intoxicated him. He fumbled with your gear, eager to get to the base of your tight, black shirt and rip it off, but you didn’t try to take over for him–you watched, patient like a dog, letting your master doff your armour at his leisure (or, rather, his frantic, desperate pace). Miguel appreciated it. He wondered if you knew he'd snap if you tried to interfere.

Soon, your chest was bare. Exposed for him, dotted with memories of cruel bites, bullets, knives and surgical scars all over taught, humming skin. Man shouldn’t be allowed to touch you, Miguel thought. The imperfections were so gloriously human. You were so perfectly alive, standing here with him, breathing, emanating heat, allowing him to do what he pleased–he was the luckiest man on Earth.

Miguel couldn’t look you in the eyes as his broad palm pressed against your chest, right over the rhythm of your soul. His pants strained and tightened more as his touch wandered through the valleys of firm muscle; what did the rest of you look like? What did you look like when you fought, or when you fucked?

His hand slipped down to the tight adonis belt cinching your waist, and then lower, following the trail of fine hair disappearing beneath the waistband peeking above your cargos. The bunching and folding of thick material melted Miguel's mind in a vat of suggestion and insatiability–were you really that big, or was that fabric just making it an illusion?

He didn't need to wait to find out, though, not when you guided his hand down over the very real curve of your goods packed away. And, yes, you were big. Miguel's eyes snapped up to yours. A smug look greeted him.

“Looked like you needed some encouragement.”

Miguel might have laughed if his heart weren't suffocating him, climbing up his throat. Your clothed cock under his hand was ruining his cognitive functions too, to be fair.

His fingers, long, clumsy things, hurried at your buttons and the zipper keeping everything in check. Miguel's ears filled with the rhythmic drumming of desire when he finally got the damn thing undone, but you grabbed his wrist. You stopped him.

Miguel scoffed out a held breath and tried to wrench free, but your grip held firm. “You can't back out after–” But when he looked at you, he froze still; your expression electrified the senses, the slightest narrowing and shifting of uneasy eyes freezing Miguel colder and colder by the second.

“Bathroom. Now.” You popped just one of those buttons back into place before turning to the door.

“Wh–” But you shoved him, hard, and sent him stumbling into the sterile white space as explosive carnage rippled through the room in his wake. The thing collided into you seconds after you'd gotten your charge out of the blast zone.

It was big. A mass of human features and flesh and maybe something else weighing on a hulking frame. You barked a name, maybe the name of one of your fellow watch dogs, but it didn't change the thing's trajectory as it tore towards Miguel on all fours like a hound out of hell.

But you were quicker. You grabbed it by the nape and ripped it off its warpath with too much effort, just narrowly avoiding it barreling into the attached room by seconds. Its momentum, forced toward the wall, threw it into a dizzied tantrum; limbs flailed, mouths gnashed, and a symphony of mismatched voices wailed from their putrid prison.

Miguel's body locked. What ifs plagued him, suddenly. If it got him. If it bit him. If you hadn't been there. What if–

“Close the damn door,” you demanded, and your voice sounded a bit shaky, too. Miguel looked at your broad back as you stood bravely in the way of the beast and its target. “Doctor–”

“I–but you–?” Miguel stumbled and choked on his words and his reasoning. He didn't want you to fight. He didn't want to die. He didn't want you to die. Miguel hit the button to make it closed, but the door stalled halfway.

“Fuck it.” Barbs burst from your fingertips and dug into the door, forcing it to bend to your will and close. Miguel didn't like how you disappeared inch by inch. He didn't like seeing that thing behind you get up. He didn't like that look you gave him just before the door snapped shut.

The next few minutes passed like years.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv imagine #atsv reader insert #male reader insert #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel x male reader #male!reader #atsv male!reader insert #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #phyrestartr

111 notes · View notes

ewitsren · 2 years

Note

Hi sweetie! How are you doing? Hopefully great! So I wanted to request ,when their s/o comes home assulted' but with Haitani brothers (separated) and sanzu? Feel free to ignore my request, have a nice day:)

hey love! i haven't been writing for a while but i hope you'll enjoy this <3

their s/o comes home assaulted ft sanzu, haitani brothers

pairings: haruchiyo sanzu x reader, haitani ran x reader, haitani rindou x reader

tw/cws ⚠️: physical assault, mention of murder, beating up, mention of sexual assault

barrista's note ☕: i love sanzu

#SANZU

he'd been waiting for you to come home for hours, he'd called you countless times and you wouldn't answer. well, sanzu was wandering around on the border of a serious breakdown which could've had negative effects for a lot of people

so when you walked into the room with your clothes ripped off and a suprising amount of blood dripping down from different parts of body, sanzu had to take a moment to process

he looked at you

and he looked at you again because he couldn't believe the sight of you covered in bruises, crying silently in front of him

he even thought this state of you was just a hallucination popped out from one of his worst nightmares and he believed it for a second until he realized he hadn't taken any pills throughout the day

this was real

he approached slowly, scared to hurt you even more unintentionally

"w-who did this? why didn't you call me for help? where the fuck have you even been?"

at first he started off stammering and a second later he was yelling, you could feel the pure anger in his cracking voice

"I DON'T KNOW SANZU! they broke my phone, i couldn't call you!"

the thought of someone hitting your small, fragile body when he was so delicate and careful with it, the image of you laying on the ground in an alley waiting for him to save you had driven sanzu so crazy that he didn't realize you started crying louder when he yelled at you

"i'm sorry angel, i'm sorry. let's clean you up and we'll take care of this later, okay?"

he sits you down and clean your wounds, extremely careful not to hurt you more.

"i know it burns, look at my babygirl not shedding a single tear. you're so strong."

later he runs you a warm bath and listens to you talk about what happened while washing your hair and body, clenching his jaw at every purple bruise he sees on your skin as he thinks about how he is going to enjoy killing the fuckers who'd hurt you

sanzu dresses you up in his clothes hoping it'll make you feel safer

cuddles you to sleep while caressing your hair and doesn't leave your side the whole night

"i'm so sorry i couldn't protect you, y/n. this 's never going to happen again."

#HAITANI RAN

ran was about to call his men to get them looking for you when you stepped into the room wet from the rain, bleeding and bruised

he was worried about you, you should've been home hours ago like you always did and ran had a bad feeling in his gut

unlucky for the both of you, his gut was right

he was about to start yelling and asking who, why, when, where did this to you but he forced himself to calm down for your sake. "let's get you patched up sweetheart."

ran filled the tub with hot water, gets you out of your soaking clothes and started tending to your wounds

"who did this to you?"

his voice came out calm but you knew he was burning up inside with anger

"i d-don't know ran, one of them t-tried to s-strip me..."

ran pats your head as you try to tell him what happened between loud sobbings. he felt his cold anger spreading all around his head, how dare did those fuckers try to undress and touch you? how dare did they hurt your pretty face and delicate body?

"sssh, it's okay darling. this is never going to happen again, okay? i'll protect you."

ran puts you to bed after he makes sure you were all patched and cleaned up

he turns the lights off and holds you in his arms until you fall asleep

"they 'r dead now, they'll never hurt ya again."

#HAITANI RINDOU

just like his big brother, he was about to send his men to look for you

but he drops his phone when you entered the room, covered in blood and bruises.

"y/n what the fuck, are you hurt?"

he rushes to your side, he needs time to process

"where have you been? who the fuck did this to you?"

he sits you down and listens to you while he carefully tends your wounds

his first priority was to make you feel safe, he'd decided to destroy whoever did this to you in the morning

rindou dresses you up in comfortable clothes when he's done patching you up

puts your comfort sitcom on and makes your comfort food

cuddles you to sleep while you watch tv in silence

"no one's gonna hurt you again, darling."

@ewitsren 's work, do not copy or translate in any other platform

1K notes · View notes

stayandot8 · 1 year

Text

A Case of Friends and Lovers

Genre: Fluff

Relationship type: best friends to lovers

Important Contents: Thank you @bangtanmix73 for the idea 😙😙

WC: 6.1k

masterlist

Chan became my friend in the third grade.

Mrs. Yoon’s class was tough enough. A tall, slender woman with her black hair streaked with the gray of her years of experience with us youngins. Constantly dressing like she was stuck in the 80s with her long skirts and her turtlenecks, she was a no-nonsense kind of lady, which wouldn’t have been the ideal kind of teacher for third graders if you asked me. If she peered over her glasses at you, you knew from her beady eyes that you wanted to never be the subject of that gaze ever again. As the “talker” of the class, she sat me next to Chan, the quiet and good one, in hopes that he would encourage me to behave like him. Unlucky for her, her plan backfired. I instead opened him up and brought him out of his shell to his own demise. The first time I got him into trouble was still burned into my mind.

Mrs. Yoon was droning on and on about something called fractions and I had had just about enough of her voice for the day. My worksheet long since forgotten on my desk, I leaned over the aisle to poke Chan in his side rather hard and quickly sat back straight, my eyes back to the front in case the mean lady was watching. Chan yelped and pursed his lips to the side in fake anguish. I would continue to see this look a lot over the course of our friendship. Mrs. Yoon heard his squeal and glared at him.

“Mr. Bang, do not interrupt my class.” Her angry eyes were enough to make Chan’s face burn bright like a tomato. I couldn’t help but snicker as he apologized. He didn’t sit next to me at lunch that day. It wasn’t until I brought him the prettiest rock I could find, a smooth, round, white stone with dark spots to look like the moon, that he finally spoke to me again, all forgiven. That was the longest we had ever gone without speaking.

Chan became my best friend in the 6th grade.

We were walking down the cold hallways, the stench of rubber erasers and preteens still learning about deodorant forcing its way up my nostrils. It was an effort not to scream daily in those hallways, children screaming every direction you looked. This particular day was the day my period decided to rear its ugly head for the first time. It wasn’t like I didn’t know it was coming, my female friends had gotten theirs fairly recently so they had prepared me for what was to come. What I didn’t expect was for it to be quite so…. messy.

It was a very normal conversation we were having, about how his mom had gotten his lunch mixed up with his sister’s again, when I felt it; a sudden gush coming from between my legs. I stopped mid-step, kids shoving my shoulders as they kept moving. Chan had stopped a few steps ahead, just realizing that I wasn’t by his side anymore and turned back with a confused look. And then those kids started looking at me to find out why I had stopped walking, that was when the laughing started. And the pointing. I had my first panic attack that day, under the cruel eyes of everyone in that hallway.

Chan rushed to me, seeing the tears and panic in my eyes and quickly took off his jacket to tie it around my waist. He grabbed my shoulders and rushed me to the nurse. He followed me around all day to make sure no one else laughed or pointed or stared. And when someone even glanced at me with what he deemed the wrong way, he would shout at them.

“And what are YOU looking at, huh?”

They would quickly find something else much more interesting to look at and rush past us. Chan would nod at his job well done and continue whatever we were talking about, trying his best to get my mind off of this sudden change. That day we had some of the weirdest conversations we had ever had, him pulling every bizarre subject he had in his arsenal to shock me into talking about it. It was a very effective method and became a fallback in the years to come.

Chan became my secret crush in 10th grade.

It was my birthday and while my mom was a good mother, she sometimes just got too busy with her work to pay enough attention to what was going on around her. This particular birthday she forgot about. I had gotten to school and looked for Chan but he was nowhere to be found until lunch period. I was sitting by myself with my headphones in, listening to my own personal curated playlist by my one and only best friend when the doors to the lunchroom flew open and a slew of balloons were pushed through them, everyone turned to stare at the loud bang. I wondered who could possibly be coming through the doors and assumed it was for some sort of prom proposal or something. I turned my attention back to my chips and was putting one in my mouth when I looked back up to the collection of helium when I saw who was attached to them. My chewing paused and I took out my headphones.

Chan was beaming as he scanned the lunchroom and locked eyes with me. That was when I realized the balloons had ‘Happy Birthday!’ written on every. single. one. He sprinted as safely as he could without tripping over to my table, a small cake and a fast food bag in his hands along with a bright pink gift sack. My jaw dropped. I felt like my eyes were going to pop out of my head.

“Happy birthday!” He yelled as he drew closer. He set down the cake, balloons, and gift bag to throw his arms around me and suffocate me with his love. I couldn’t help my grin as he let go, his own smile infectious like always. He sat down, grabbing the food bag and laying out a nice spread in front of me.

“Is this why you’re late to school?” I giggled as I put my home lunch back in my lunchbox.

“Well duh. I couldn’t let you get away with going unnoticed on your birthday. I had to get the best for my girl!” My heart fluttered in a way I hadn’t noticed before when he said that. My veins sang as the butterflies took a hold in my stomach and remained there.

We had our lunch as the rest of the school watched, people wondering what the balloons were for when their friends explained it to them in hushed whispers. They weren’t there as far as I was concerned. All I could see was him.

That’s also when other girls started to notice him.

Chan became distant in college.

He had started dating and I hated all of the other girls that weren’t me. He always wondered why his girlfriends and I never got along, not one of them. He only saw what they wanted to see, them putting on their sweetest, most perfect facade for him as I glared at them from the sidelines. Our friendship started to suffer too.

I couldn’t blame him for wanting to be the perfect boyfriend. I just wish he would’ve realized he didn’t have to try so hard for them. He was perfect the way he was. None of them were worthy of him anyways. It annoyed me to no end how hard he would try for them while they took it and never gave it back to him like I could have. They simply weren’t good enough for him.

He hated it when I told him that. The conversation would always start the same. He would bring up some petty argument they were having and I would try my best to be objective for him, but it was so hard. It was simply that all of the fights he ever had were always the girl’s fault, either demanding he spend more time with her or do more for her or that he was too much work for them. I would make this point and he would retort with a way that it was somehow his fault. HIS fault that she felt this way. That he needed to be better. I would say it wasn’t his fault, he already spent so much time with her. We disagreed every time. I was surprised he couldn’t tell that I was in love with him. He was oblivious when it came to me. But his friends weren’t.

Feix questioned me first but Minho was the first to break me. He got me intoxicated and asked me one too many questions and the beans came tumbling out in a drunken babble. In front of all of his friends and God herself, I wouldn’t shut up about how I missed his laugh, his smile, and his hugs. The boys just looked at each other awkwardly, taking turns trying to comfort me in their own ways. Minho tried to tell me Chan’s poor qualities, walking around naked all the time, he worked too much, he never bought anything for himself. But these were all qualities I already knew and loved about him. Seungmin was just calling him old and ‘why would you want someone so close to old age in the prime of your life’ and such things. I wasn’t much younger than Chan so in reality, he was also calling me old. He ran out of things to say after that, not wanting to put his foot in his mouth any more than he already had. Jeongin and Hyunjin offered to take me shopping the next day, which I took them up on. Hyunjin pat me on the back gently and grimaced. Changbin just tried to tell me that exercise was the cure for everything. That earned a glare from everyone, to which he just shrugged and looked away sheepishly. I thanked him for his suggestion. He meant it in earnest. Han took my mind off of it, offering his best controller to play video games with him all night long. And when I had successfully beaten Han enough for him to admit defeat, Felix followed me to bed and just cuddled me until the heavy weight on my chest had lightened.

Every time we fought about his girlfriends’ issues with him, it was always on the tip of my tongue. It was always ‘Just talk to her, try to work it out’ instead of ‘I wouldn’t treat you like that.’ It was a laborious effort, keeping all of the emotions inside. I would feel the build-up when he was in between girlfriends, he would get more touchy with me, no longer under a watchful eye or a guilty conscience. I could feel myself begin to tell him my feelings and then another girl would pop up and they would last too long that the moment was over. But I was always the one he ran to when he had problems. And they hated that.

The first girl that had a problem with how much time he spent with me didn’t last long after that. But after the third girl, he noticed that it was maybe not just a single issue. So I saw less and less of him when he was involved. Then she appeared a year later.

She was everything I was not. She was popular, beautiful, and just cool. She still didn’t deserve him though. I hated that I could tell she did care about him a little more than the others but not enough it seemed. She became obsessed with the idea that he would cheat on her with me. Eventually she convinced herself that he did. That was a particularly hard fight for him to get through. He came over afterwards and explained it to me, that he couldn’t spend more time with me if he wanted to keep her, so that was it. I haven’t seen him in a while.

That was a couple months ago. I’m in my own apartment now, reading my book far too late into the night again. The pounding at my door broke me of my trance and I scurried to open the door to see Chan, his curly hair a little wild and his eyes rimmed with red.

“She cheated on me.”

His voice was hoarse, like he hadn’t used it in a bit. I opened the door further to let him in but he just fell into my arms, his emotions hitting him harder. I hugged him closer, closing the door behind him. He fell to his knees in the hallway and brought me down with him. We stayed this way until his sobs turned to sniffles. My only form of comfort was rubbing his back up into his hair. When his breathing slowed enough for his strength to return to his legs, I nudged him up to bring him to my couch where I left him only long enough to make him something to drink. I decided tea was the way to go, alcohol no good for him in his current state. He simply stared blankly at my coffee table, his silence scarier than yelling. I nudged him with the mug and he took it, letting it warm his hands. I sat beside him gently, letting him talk if he wanted to. When he didn’t, I asked the only question I would dare about the subject.

“Do you want to talk about it?” His eyes still looked blank. His mind was elsewhere. I didn’t think he heard me and I was resigned to stay quiet when he shook his head. I could only nod faintly, finally looking him over fully for the first time in months. His eyes were tired aside from their current puffiness and his clothes smelled like him a little too much, as if he’d been wearing them a little too long.

“Do you want to sleep here? You’re more than welcome to.” I said quietly, hoping he would take me up on it. I could feel my body yearning to be closer to his natural warmth but I stayed where I was, not wanting to invade his space just yet. He nodded slowly, his mug remaining untouched by his beautiful lips. I had forgotten…

“Do you want to sleep on my bed? I can take the couch.” He leaned to place the cup on the table in front of us and he grabbed my hand. He stood, forcing me to move from my spot as he led me back through my own bedroom door. He only dropped my hand to land face first on my pillow. I couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped my lips. The way he fell was just a little comical, like a cartoon almost. Luckily I had been in my pajamas for about an hour now so I just turned off the light and climbed in next to him, still not touching him. I was too keenly aware of every breath he took, every small movement he made. He turned his head to face me, still stomach down. His eyes bleary, he took a breath in as if he was about to speak. And it was taking all of his strength.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered the words I didn’t need, but craved anyway. I shook my head.

“Don’t worry about it. Just sleep right now, okay?” He nodded, closing his eyes.

“Don’t leave me.” Never. I tentatively pushed a strand of hair out of his eyes, testing his limits of the moment. He didn’t shoo me away. In fact, he hummed in contentment. His breathing slowed to even draws and gave me the opportunity to really look at him. I thought with these months apart my feelings would die. I should’ve known better. If they could survive college, they would unfortunately survive anything. Simply looking at him was enough to bring them back to the surface in full swing. Maybe this is my opportunity. This time I’ll tell him, I promised myself. Maybe when he’s better.

“I love you.” I whispered, just loud enough for me to hear.

I woke up before him the next morning. I felt more than saw the arms around my waist, the leg intertwined with mine. My heart broke slightly as I untangled him from me, moving off the bed as slowly as I could so as not to wake him. He didn’t, simply rolling over, remaining in his slumber. I watched him sleep, the crease between his brows a cause for concern. I tore myself away and exited back to my kitchen. I didn’t know how hungry he would be, so I figured I could always make more if he wanted. As the waffle iron was warming, I heard his shuffling coming down the hall. I kept my back turned to give him a second to breathe and collect himself if he wanted to. When he crept up beside me at the counter, I gave him a half hearted smile and weak ‘hi’, still unsure of his mood. I thought I still knew how to read him, but he had changed so much in these past months, I found it harder than I remembered.

“I didn’t know how hungry you would be so I was preparing for the worst.” He simply nodded, turning to the coffee pot. He started it up and returned to the couch he was on the night before. He turned on the TV to the morning news. I got the feeling it was just for background noise.

Once the waffles and coffee were done, I put on my best display of domesticity. I brought him his own plate, which he scarfed down. I talked about anything but the one thing I was dying to ask about. He merely nodded along until a particularly awkward silence hit us.

“I’m running out of subjects here, Chris.” No response. Another long pause.

“She broke up with me a while ago. I’ve spent the past couple months trying to get her back but it wasn’t working. She finally told me why. She slept with some guy back near the end of our relationship. Didn’t even remember his name.” He got quiet again. Then uttered the few words that consistently broke my heart for him. “I don’t understand what I did wrong.”

“Not everything is your fault though.”

“I had to have done something for her to do that. Why else would she have done it?”

“Some people don’t need reasons.” It was the only response I could think of. He shook his lowered head.

“It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense. So I ran to the only place I thought of. I’m sorry I barged in on you like this, I didn’t know where else to go.” He finally looked me in my eyes, I could see his apology in the gleam between blinks.

“It’s okay, really. You’ve clearly been busy.”

“But you’ve done nothing to deserve me ignoring you for so long. And then to just show up here? Out of nowhere? I’m sorry, I should go.” He started to rise, eyes, aiming for the door. I panicked, not knowing when the next time I would see him would be. I lunged for his arm, grabbing it tightly. He jerked, but didn’t pull away, looking back at me. Those same apologies still in his eyes.

“You don’t have to go. I promise, it’s okay. I’m just happy to have you back. No matter the circumstances.” His shoulders fell in relief as he sat back down. He gave me his best smile, which was only a sliver of what I knew it could be. It still made my butterflies jump.

“I don’t deserve you.”

Boy, you have no idea…

That was a few weeks ago. He still wasn’t completely over the betrayal, but he was slowly getting better. He showed up to my apartment regularly, just like before. We would talk about everything but that night. And when he got particularly down on himself, I would drag him out with all of his friends to take his mind off of it. Being of the legal drinking age had its perks.

This particular night, he had been the one to initiate it. He texted the entire group asking which bar we wanted to start on our pub crawl for the evening. We knew what that meant. If it was a club night, he just wanted to forget the day. If it was a club crawl, he wanted to forget the week. But an actual pub crawl, something had to have happened. Minho was always ready with a suggestion. He knew all the best spots in town. And walking through the doors of our first stop of the night, everyone could tell Chan was ready for the night to begin.

“Let’s gooooo!” He shouted at the top of lungs, approaching the bar and smiling at the bartender, a short woman with enough cleavage to make a porn star jealous. I respect the hustle of it, but did he have to smile at her like that? He flashed one of his famous grins that reached his eyes, which she of course returned. It was hard not to.

“What can I get you, sweetie?” She wiped down the glass in her hand with the rag in the other, used to the shouting of men ready to forget their troubles. Chan leaned on his elbows on the bartop and cocked his head, ready to charm whoever was a willing victim.

“A round of shots for me and my friends, angel. And make them doubles if you please.” She smiled and nodded, grabbing the bottle from the shelves and nine bigger shot glasses. Chan started to chat with her as she poured, making my fingers go numb. The intense eye contact between them was enough to force my hands into fists. Felix noticed, because of course he did. I was surprised he couldn't hear my raging heartbeat. Thundering so loud in my ears I could barely hear what he was whispering to me. I felt his warmth bear me as he said

“Don’t take it too close to heart, you know he does this when he needs to release.” That didn’t stop the chill down my spine though. I wanted to deck the poor girl. She had no idea who I was or what I was going through. But if she laughed at one of his stupid jokes again…

Chan grabbed the tray of shots and winked at her, making her blush. God damn it.

“Relax. He’s not going home with her.” More whispers in my ear. I couldn’t place the voice until Seungmin gave me a shy smile, nodding in encouragement of his words. I nodded back, trying to breathe as we all followed Chan to a table near the shadows of the back of the place. Seungmin placed his hand on my back, following my lead and staying close.

Chan was doling out the shots in everyone’s direction, each conversation happening in tandem, the noise level doing the best job of drowning out my own thoughts. I decided to let this night be as much for me as its initiator. We all clinked our glasses together, tapped the table, and downed our shots in one go, Felix coughing a little as he got used to the burn.

“Another round!” Jisung shouted over the noise happening around us.

“I’ll go!” Chan started to walk towards the bar, but Jisung stopped him with his arm.

“Don’t worry buddy, I’ll get this one.” But Jisung’s eyes were on me. I could swear he nodded to me, a small sign of solidarity.

“Was I that obvious?” Hyunjin shook his head a little too quickly to be anything but honest. I grimaced in his direction, sure that everyone would see through any kind of mask I could put on. Well, everyone except the one it mattered for. He was currently balls-deep in a conversation with Changbin about something to do with…sports? Cars? I couldn’t tell nor did I care. Jisung came back quickly with twice the amount of shots as the first round. I shot him a greatful smile, our unspoken plan working. Another round of shots and we were off to the next bar, pulling the same routine until it was evident that Chan had had quite enough when he wouldn’t let go of my shoulder. He hung on my arm like he hadn’t known anything else in his life, clung to me like he had for the first ten years of our friendship. It was like nothing had changed.

“Baby, let’s go to another one down the street. They’ve got the best margaritas on the block.” Baby. It almost made it feel real when he called me that. Like, maybe one day, I could be… I snapped back to the moment at hand.

“I think we both have had quite enough there, mister.” His eyes were drooping, his gaze unfocused. His words were blurring together, all of the alochol he had consumed finally hitting his system. He would be turning into one of two people and I didn’t want to be there if the one that wasn’t the cuddly, kind Chris showed up. Not being quite as drunk as the others, I volunteered to take him home, thinking we had had enough for one night. None of the others were ready to go home as much as I was, so they let me take the invalid home by myself.

The weight of Chan’s body was too much for my single shoulder as we stumbled down the hallway to his apartment. His giggling had turned into a small laughter here and there, which eventually had made him go quiet now. We arrived at his front door, just as I remembered it.

“Chan, where are your keys?” He grappled with his pockets before he giggled again.

“Doormat.” was all that came from his mouth. This mother… His spare key was hidden under the mat.

Once we were inside, he went straight for the couch, sighing as he lay flat on his stomach. I couldn’t help my panting from carrying him up his stairs, my breath the only sound in the room. I leaned on the counter, just watching him as he closed his eyes.

“Chan?”

“Hm?”

“How are you feeling? Anything coming back up?”

“Not yet. Give me a few minutes though, you never know.” A slight chuckle from the man across the room followed by a groan of regret.

“That is true.” I laughed along with him, not feeling great myself. “Come on, let’s get you set up in your room before I go.” I started for the hallway when his head snapped up from his resting place, his eyes now sad and full of something I couldn’t place. I blame it on the alcohol.

“What?” His voice had gone high, cracking. “You’re leaving me? Don’t leave me, you can’t leave me. I’ll have no one left.” I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. The words he was saying didn’t make sense in response to what I meant, the fog in my head from the multitude of shots I had clouding every logical thought.

“Huh? I have to go home at some point. I can’t live here with you, Chan. As much fun as that would be.” There was some truth to that, I realized. I could picture it in my drunken mind’s eye and for a split second, it was everything I had ever wanted come alive. A reality that would always be there in another life where I had the guts to say something. And the even rareer chance that he felt the same.

“Ha. That would be fun. You would never have to leave then. You could take care of me all the time.” What I wouldn’t give… He was slow to rise from the couch, I suspected any sudden movement would make his insides turn out. And that was a mess neither one of us wanted to clean up.

“Come on, superstar. Let’s go.” He grabbed another hold around my waist now, his touch more intimate than the one around my shoulder when we first arrived. I tried not to read too much into it. It’s not like it meant anything to him. He was out of his mind, didn’t know what he was doing. We shuffled down the hall to his room, him falling on the bed like he fell on the couch. He burst into laughter into his pillow, my fit of giggles not far behind.

“Why did you fall like that? You looked like a domino.” I sat on his bed at his feet, getting comfortable.

“I don’t know.” His laughter got louder before it died down. What I couldn’t see was his face scrunching up as his own memeories of the day flew together, ready to attack him as soon as he would let them. I wasn’t expecting the sniffles to come. Well, maybe I should have considering how many shots he had.

“Chan?” I said again. A long pause, the air thick with a new sadness.

“I saw her again today.” I knew he was talking about her. I sighed but stayed quiet, afraid of what I would say if I spoke. My words tonight had slipped past every filter I ever had, a new sense of honesty I never had before. Another thing to blame the alcohol for.

“Why didn’t she love me? Why doesn’t anyone love me?” Not a question meant for my ears.

“I do.”

It was barely a whisper. A response to a question that didn’t require one. His retort was too quick for him to realize in what way I meant.

“You have to say that. You’re my best friend.”

“But that’s not how I meant it.”

He was still. I wasn’t sure if he was breathing but I didn’t care. Now was the time. This was the moment. When I had no filters or second guesses. Now would be the time I would spill it all out, everything. Risking our entire friendship in sixty seconds. I could only stare at the wall.

“I’m in love with you. Have been for a couple years now. I hated keeping it from you but I had no other choice. So all those old girfriends were right. Of course, all the other boys know too. Have for a long time. And now that I can face the fact that you don’t feel the same, I can tell you this and I can move on. I can release it. I can let you go. I love you. I am in love with you. And you do not feel the same. And that’s okay.” I took a deep breath, still without the courage to look in the space around his direction. “Because at least now you know and I can start to kill these feelings one by one until I can stomach you being around other girls. Beause it kills me inside when you talk about yourself like that. Every time you and I would argue about your girlfriends complaining to you and you think it’s your fault. It kills my very soul. You are the best person anyone could ever know. They way you make people feel about themselves, they way you make me feel… I’ve never found that in anyone else. Only you. The way you care about me, you make me feel loved.” My shoes were dirty from the path we walked. I would have to wash them when I got home.

“I love your laugh the most I think. It makes me feel whole. I love the little squeak you get when you laugh too hard. It sounds like a door hinge.” I smiled to myself, a sudden sadness as I thought I wouldn’t hear it again after this. Not for a long while at least. “I always get butterflies when you touch me. They started back in high school and they never left. I would always try to hug you when I could, which was good because I knew you liked touchy people. But the more I would do it, the more I craved it. I started to crave you. I never knew I liked attention until I tasted yours. And that was it. I was ruined.” Another sad smile as I stood up. He was probably asleep by now, listening to me drone on and on. I could make it home now on my own, the sudden pouring of the build up of the last however many years finally coming to a breaking point. I was never drinking again. I longed for some fresh air, this room suddenly too small. My hand had just brushed the door handle, ready to leave the dream I had held onto for so long in this room, in this moment for good. My life’s sustainment, the only reason I had bothered to come this far. To leave it all on the table for it to be brushed under a rug, never to be looked at or mentioned again.

Until I heard it.

“And what if I love you too?”

It was so quiet, I thought I had imagined it.

“You don’t mean that like I want you to.” I opened the door further, certain that I didn’t want to hear his next words.

“But I do.” The grip on my heart, my veins, tightened. There was no way.

“But-” I turned slowly, still not sure if I was dreaming. But if I pinched myself, I wouldn’t get to see how this dream would play out. “What-” I couldn’t think of any words. I could only shake my head in disbelief. “You can’t be serious. You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Look at me. Please. And tell me if you think I dont know what I’m saying.”

I looked, really looked at him, for what felt like the first time. Into those eyes that held nothing but clarity and truth. And I felt like I was falling into them all over again.

“I don’t believe you. I can’t. I don’t believe this is actually happening to me right now.”

He sat up to lean against his headboard, head lolling to the side, no doubt feeling heavy.

“You know that box I keep by the front door for my keys? Have a look inside. If you still don’t believe me, you can call Changbin and tell him he has a free pass to hit me as hard as he can.” On shaky legs, I raced as quickly as I dared to the front door, eyeing the little wooden box, just big enough for keys and…

A small, round, white stone. With dark spots. To look like the moon.

I cradled it, afraid it would break or disappear if I blinked. I simply stared at it, unaware that Chan had crept up behind me on silent steps. I felt his eyes on me a second later.

“Why did you keep it?” My voice was as shaky as the rest of me, still coated in disbelief that the one thing I wanted more than anything could actually be mine.

“Because that was when it started. I’ve been yours ever since.”

I felt myself turning to face him, still locked on the stone in my hand. I heard him come closer, tilting my chin up to look him in his beautiful eyes. Open for me to see every wonderful thing he had ever thought of me, the warmth inviting me in to stay forever. His hands moved to cup both my cheeks, his body so close I could feel his heart racing alongside mine.

“I still feel like I’m dreaming.” I whispered against his lips, so close to mine. Too close. There was nowhere I could run to, nowhere I could hide from his fire, his want for me. For me.

“Me too.” He whispered back.

And then he kissed me.

He poured everything he was into me, his apologies, his laughter, his sincerity. I threw everything I had at him. My darkest thoughts, my hardest moments, my deepest fears. He still did not budge. He waited for more, wanting, needing everything. Every part of me was his for the taking. My soul was his for good.

It was the feeling of finding money in the pocket of a pair of jeans you hadn’t worn in a while. It was a warm summer night after a day spent with friends, comforting and familiar. It was love, wrapped in your favorite blanket with a warm drink in your hands. He was love, finding me at long last.

He was mine.

No one else’s.

Not back then.

Not ever again.

Only

Mine.

219 notes · View notes

abbyromanoff · 1 year

Note

I’ve had the WORST headache today so can I request some fluff/comfort with nat taking care of reader who’s really sick with a migraine but reader just tried to tell nat she’s fine but nat can see straight through her and eventually reader just breaks down crying in Nats arms and let’s her take care of them <3

Migraines

Parings: Natasha Romanoff x sick!reader

Warnings: headaches and migraines, reader being mentally exhausted basically, think that’s it

Word count: 705

Summary: it’s just the ask once again (and I’m sorry anon, I’ve been having the same things as well but I hope you’re feeling better now :))

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

Walking into your shared bathroom you took what felt like the hundredth ibuprofen of the day. You had to do this a lot as you tended to get migraines and headaches often. You didn’t know why, you ate healthy, trained and worked out, and never took any supplements that could cause these irritating, painful headaches. Nat noticed, she noticed everything. But whenever she would bring it up you’d end up denying the fact and just said you were tired. She tried her best to help but you were too damn stubborn. This was the third time this week that you had a migraine, it was only Thursday. You sat down at your desk and got back to work, filling out mission report after mission report.

It was getting to be too much, the words on the paper didn’t make sense and you could barely open your eyes, even when you did the light would hurt you even more. Getting frustrated you threw the papers off of your desk and slammed your hands down, trying your best not to let tears arise to the surface. It seemed to be your unlucky week as Nat walked in the moment you broke down, rushing to your side and examining your face. When she saw water in your eyes and your breathing unsteady she held you softly in her arms.

“Shh, it’s alright, you’re okay. I’m here now.” Her words soothed you yet hurt you more, the noise hurt your head and your ears.

“Shut up! Please! It hurts.” Nat knew you were just saying those words out of frustration and pain so she tried not to take them to heart.

“What hurts baby? Can you tell me what is hurting you?” “My head, it’s-it’s pounding. It hurts so bad, a-and the light hurts my eyes and noise makes my head, like, throb in a way. The words, they were- I couldn’t read it Natty.” You struggled to form a sentence and your girlfriend quickly rushed you into your bed. She grabbed an ice pack and placed it on your head, doing research previously and finding out the cold helps with migraines. Turning off every light and closing every blind she made sure no brightness could effect you.

“I’m sorry for telling you to shut up.” You were able to form at least a few words as Nat was pacing around trying to find things to help. She knew noise hurt you so instead of speaking she placed her hand over your own, assuring you in a way that she understood and wasn’t mad. Many blankets were put on top of you and she adjusted your body in a way that no pressure could get to your head. You watched as she ran out of the room and came back minutes later with water, soup and saltine crackers. She placed everything down and brought you head up, helping you drink some of the water.

Everything was too much, the pain you felt was astronomical, Nat caring for you made you feel overwhelmed with emotions, you couldn’t help but cry into her arms. Your arms wrapped around her back as you cried into her chest, finally letting all of your emotions go. She held you and rested her head lightly on your own, massaging your scalp and drawing circles on your back in a soothing matter.

Laying you down on the bed she wrapped you back up in the snug blankets and kissed your forehead, letting you get some sleep. She was starting to walk out of the room before you stopped her, “Wait.” She turned to look at you, ready to get whatever you needed. “Can you stay?” You nervously asked, scared that she would say no. She rolled her eyes in a joking manner and laid beside you, holding you in her arms as she drifted off to sleep.

The next day when Fury came up repeatedly apologizing for giving you too much work with a stern looming Nat behind him you laughed, knowing that she brutally yelled at him for giving you so much stress. Nat walked up to you and hugged you from behind, “You okay now baby?”

“I’m much better now that I’m with you.”

#natasha x fem!reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha fluff #anon request #anonymous #anon ask #natasha x sick!reader #sick!reader

185 notes · View notes

lackadaisy-headcanon-supply-unit · 1 year

Note

I have a craving for a oneshot on the rocks, with a hint harsh, a drip of tagic, a taste of spice, and an after taste as sweet a sugar.

For flavoring, I was thinking about of a Nicodeme "Nico" Savory or a Mordecai Heller, which ever the Bardtender think's will taste better.

Two characters, two authors! Enjoy your flavourful drinks. (Just make sure you have a designated driver to take you home, since this is gonna be a Hell of an experience. Maybe you should sit down. No passing out in my bar!) -mod Ille

At last, my bilingual ass has been summoned for something! -mod Iphie

(CW for semi-descriptive headshot, a nasty gash to the arm and implied character death)

Mordecai’s head pounded from the blow against the brick wall. The cat who had roughly shoved him there was now practically headless, their skull shattered from a point-blank side-of-the-head shot.

Y/N was panting slightly as they both eyed the corpse. Mordecai taking off his glasses to clean the blood splatters off the lenses snapped their attention towards him and relief flooded their eyes. “Thank god, you’re okay…”

“‘Okay’ is subjective,” Mordecai grumbled, not at all surprised when a curious hand came down with blood when he checked the back of his head. “I may require medical assistance.”

“Shit. Let me see?”

On a normal day, he would have objected. He would’ve shied away from his partner’s touch and insisted that they merely get going in case the bloodthirsty felines they had the unfortunate luck of working with killed the cat they were tasked with questioning. This time, however, he reluctantly yet obediently turned around.

Y/N carefully moved his pinned ears up, mumbling an apology as they knew he didn’t like them getting touched. “It doesn’t look like much,” they said after a moment. “I think your fur’s picked up the worst of it. Once you get cleaned up you can probably get a better idea of what to do with it. Does your brain hurt?”

Mordecai shook his head slowly. It didn’t feel like anything got knocked loose, nor did his brain loudly object by spinning or pounding. “No.”

“No headache, no…?”

“Nothing, I appear to be fine.”

Y/N didn’t respond to that, instead moving around Mordecai to check his eyes. They visibly relaxed when they made eye contact. “You’re fine. Your eyes are clear. You’ve got a thick head, Morde.”

Mordecai rolled his eyes in response. Y/N snickered and held a blood-soaked hand out to him as gunshots started up again somewhere a little ways away from their alleyway.

“C’mon,” they whispered. “I think the twins are having too much fun without us.”

Mordecai pointedly stared at their hand. Y/N got the hint after a moment and wiped it off onto their pant leg as much as they could. When it was more or less clean, he finally slipped his hand into theirs and led them towards the sounds of violence.

Needless to say, the Savoys were having far more of a ball than Mordecai and Y/N did. Neither of them knew what it was about the situation that had made them so feral—what it was about their job in general—but it was to be expected that when a bit of firepower needed to be fired, there would be no survivors.

The particularly unlucky spot they had got themselves in involving not only an interrogation gone wrong, but a rival gang and couple of passing cops too.

No, the Savoys were not professional or clean in their line of work, but Mordecai had to admit they were definitely quick and effective.

By the time they turned the alleyway corner, the last shots had been fired and there were no more disturbances to be seen—or to deal with. Before long, raucous laughter replaced the blazing gunfire.

Serafine heaved Boudreaux onto her shoulder and wiped the sweat from her brow. "Seems like that's the last of 'em," she sighed, kicking one of the surrounding corpse with the steel toe of her boot. "They really thought pistols and glass could come up against us!"

"The source?"

"Dead."

"And the other intruders?"

"All dead, of course."

"And the cops?"

Serafine gave him a look. "What do you think? We're not that stupid, cher."

"What about the cargo?" Mordecai pressed, wiping the back of his bleeding hand on his trenchcoat.

"'S all here," Nico chuckled, patting the crate hidden behind a couple of bins. "Secure and ready to go, chief."

Mordecai glanced at it. His frown only soured. To think that all of this—the red stained cobbles, the spent and expensive ammunition, even the new scar he sustained to the back of his hand—was for one small box. Mr Sweet must have been incredibly eager to get his hands on whatever was inside, at the detriment of his staff.

Mordecai only hoped it was worth it.

He had been wondering that a lot ever since he joined the Marigold bandits. Lackadaisy runs had been just as messy, but at least they weren't for as senseless a cause as this one.

A sudden gasp from Y/N brought him back to the rest of his team.

"Nico, your arm!"

Mordecai's paled when he finally clocked on to what they meant. A long, deep gnash tore down the Savoy brother's left arm, the jagged wound so deep it was almost black in the low light of the alley. Blood smeared every inch of his fur and then some, staining his front and even his cheek. The glass shard used to perform the deed was still wedged inside, worryingly close to his wrist.

Even Serafine took a step back, the bloodlust in her eyes cast aside immediately.

Only Nico was calm.

He looked down and yanked out the glass, then rolled his shoulder back to inspect the damage. He shrugged.

"I've had worse," he laughed.

Mordecai knew a lie when he heard one, and when he saw that Nico's brave face was slipping by the second. Dark chuckles of dismissal lost assurance and volume until they were barely heard at all. Bright amber eyes lost focus and eyelids sagged.

He collapsed.

Serafine rushed to catch her twin, carefully laying him down on the ground. She squeezed his uninjured hand as Y/N--who was evidently playing medic today--dropped to their knees on his other side and took their claws to the coat they were wearing.

"He's bleeding a lot," they muttered fearfully, talking more to themself than anything. "We might need to take him to a hospital."

"No."

Their ears flicked as Mordecai brought them back to the present. They looked back at him. "Mordecai, this is more than I can handle. If we don't get him to the—"

"How will you explain the injury?"

"It's none of their business." There was a hard edge to Serafine's voice. "Eider he goes, or I kill you both when 'e dies."

Mordecai made his way over to Y/N and knelt down beside them. Blood was still flowing from the wound in a steady stream, it easily soaking through the coat fabric Y/N painstakingly wrapped around Nico's arm as a bandage.

"He will either bleed out before we get to the hospital," he started, straightening up again. "Or he will seizure and pass on anyway. There is no—"

Serafine lunged. Y/N grabbed her shoulders before claws met fur. "Serafine, don't! Don't. I will do what I can to keep him stable. You stay with him."

The queen was out for blood again, her ears pinned back almost flat against her skull and her tail fluffed out. Still, she relented; ever so slowly returning to crouching by Nico's side and taking his hand again. Y/N was probably one of the few felines that could talk her down from bloodthirsty to benevolent.

Mordecai stood back again as Y/N went to work, putting pressure on the wound and mumbling to themself. Serafine appeared to have gone inside herself as she held Nico's free hand in one and stroked his head with the other.

"T'es un salaud si tu penses que j'vais te laisser crever comme ça," she muttered.

Nico's chuckle was far too light for the situation. "Et toi, t'es toujours aussi têtue qu'au couvent," he teased weakly. "Y a des choses qui ne changent jamais, hein?"

"J'suis ta sœur. Je reste ici."

"En tant que ton frère, je dis que non. Les flics peuvent arriver d'un moment à l'autre."

"T'as pas le choix, mon cher."

She gripped his hand tighter, for the last time.

When his breathing started to become shallow and Y/N's canines appeared over their bottom lip, Mordecai predicted the end result.

They looked at Serafine mumbling what Mordecai presume to be a prayer before turning to him, their E/C eyes worried. An unspoken question hung between them. "What do I say to her?"

Serafine and Nicodeme were inseparable. Where one was, the other was hardly ever far behind. From what Mordecai could tell they had been that way since they were children.

There would be no easy way to pull Serafine away from her twin brother.

Y/N reached across Nico to put their hand on top of the twins' own. Serafine's head snapped up to meet their eyes. They swallowed hard before speaking. "Serafine..."

"I know."

"You don't have to stay here. If you don't want to see him—"

She shook her head, cutting them off. "I'm staying here. You leave, bring him—" She shot Mordecai a dirty glare. "—too. I don't want to see his face again. Not after his idiotic interrogation went wrong and caused this. I'll deal with him later."

"But—"

"Go."

Y/N nodded and carefully stood up, reluctantly taking their hands off Nico's arm. Serafine stroked his head again as they made their way over to Mordecai.

Their voice cracked when they spoke. "She wants us to leave."

"So I overheard."

"She's not happy."

"I heard that too."

"Mordecai, I swear to god, if you start being snarky when her brother is fucking—"

He cut them off by abruptly turning and walking away. They rushed to catch up to him, their fur bristling.

The walk between the two back to the car was silent. Y/N was oddly quiet, their eyes hard and footsteps quick. It wasn't until Mordecai reached for the driver's side door that they broke the spell. "Uh-uh, you're not driving."

Mordecai turned to them. "Excuse me?"

"You took a nasty hit to the head." Y/N wouldn't meet his eyes as they pulled his hand away from the door handle. "Even if you don't have a concussion, I don't want you driving. The motion might aggravate things and—"

"Y/N."

"—then it'll be you in the hospital and I'll have to explain that anyway and—"

"Y/N L/N."

"—then Mister Sweet is going to want answers and—"

Y/N squeaked when Mordecai grabbed their shoulders and shoved them against the car. E/C eyes finally met green ones as they stumbled over their words to silence.

"Enough." Mordecai dusted off their shoulders, and then his own paws, before standing up straight again. "We will be fine without him. She will likely be more of a savage than usual, but we will deal with that. Asa Sweet will be my responsibility to deal with, not yours."

He definitely did not want to think of the funeral, if at all. He didn't know what was sadder: the thought of it happening in the first place, or the fact that he'd likely not get one at all.

At his core, Nico was just another disposable part of the Marigold workforce. Mordecai had to get it into his head himself and stop wallowing over it all. He would need to try and get Y/N to do so as well. He could see tears well up in their eyes.

Crying never helped anyone or anything. It certainly wouldn't now, not unless they were made of magical medicine that could cure all ailments.

But as luck would have it, they were not.

That was where unprofessionalism like the Savoys got people in this business. They'd take it as a warning.

A warning that stung, but a warning to be sure. The thought of such a strong, seemingly unbeatable fighter dying in an alley, in dirt, in disgrace, made his fur bristle.

Mordecai still couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't a little his own fault, somewhere down the line.

He probably wouldn't admit it even if it was.

Y/N's ears moved back and forth, either registering his words or listening for something. They looked over both of his shoulders and back over their own. Mordecai strained his own ears to listen to, so their next words made him (embarrassingly) flinch.

"Can I hug you?"

"What? Yes. Wait, no-"

Too late. Y/N practically threw themself at him, crushing him into a hug so tight it felt like he was about to be suplexed. His hiss of displeasure went unnoticed by them, up until he awkwardly patted their head; then they abruptly let go and backed up so quickly they slammed against the car and bumped their head.

The irony wasn't lost on Mordecai as Y/N growled and rubbed the back of their head. They shot him a look when they noticed the small smile on his muzzle.

"Don't say it."

"Do you require medical assistance?"

[French Translations:

"If you think I'm gonna leave you here alone to die, you're a bastard."

"And you're still as stubborn as you were back at the convent. Some things never change, eh?"

"I'm your sister. I'm staying here."

"And as your brother, I say no. The cops could arrive at any moment."

"You don't have much of a choice in the matter, my dear."]

#🖋 mod ille #🦉mod iphiko #Oneshot on the Rocks #Lackadaisy #Mordecai Heller #Nicodeme Savoy #Serafine Savoy #oneshot #tw character death

88 notes · View notes

ratsoh-writes · 1 year

Note

SO has a miscarriage, main 10

I hate you anon.

Under the cut for miscarriage mention’s obviously

Sans: honestly he’s kinda numb. Like it doesn’t really hit him that he and SO lost their baby. Right now he’s more focused on making sure SO is ok, that they don’t have any side effects from it. Sans won’t really mourn until he gets an old ultrasound reminder on his phone. Then it finally hits him.

Papyrus: he’s horrified and mourns deeply over loosing the baby with SO. To help himself cope, he makes a small gravestone in the backward to remember his baby by. It’s pretty discrete, and looks more like a garden decoration until you see the little plaque with the name he and SO had picked out.

Star: he keeps himself too busy to really mourn. Star has seen a lot of hard things being a police officer. He copes by keeping himself occupied. It helps him keep his mind off things. As he supports SO, he winds up doing a full spring clean on the house.

Honey: he’s heartbroken and takes it so hard his soul gets unbalanced and honey winds up sick for a few weeks as he mourns. His dream is to have a little family, and loosing a kid ye never got to meet hurts deeply.

Red: he’s hurting sure, but red takes it better than others. He’s dealt with lord before and seems to know how to work through it. Red is a rock for his SO and a wonderful companion as they mourn

Edge: he can’t seem to accept that his baby is gone and keeps going over what went wrong. Was it SOs diet? Were they too stressed? Did he make them stressed? It’s like he thinks that if he fixes what happened the baby will come back.

Mal: his first thought is relief, then the next one is guilt. Mal is relieved cause he never wanted children. His SO knew that, so when they had that accidental pregnancy and SO decided to keep it, mal was hurt and felt like he was being forced into fatherhood. It put a strain on his and SOs relationship that they had been slowly working through. And now he has to deal with feeling guilty that he’s happy while SO is mourning their unborn child. He and SO probably won’t stay together after this

Cash: he thinks it’s his fault. When he and SO learned they were pregnant, cash had been doing his best to quit smoking for SO and the baby. Quitting is hard though and he definitely relapsed a few times. Cash has it in his head that he killed the baby. Poor SO is going to have to convince him somehow that’s not true

Oak: this is horrible for him and SO. His memory makes it so that he forgets a few times that their baby is gone. The day after the miscarriage he’ll ask SO how they and the baby are doing not realizing there is no baby. It takes a bit to sink in

Willow: he’s absolutely convinced his weak magic is what killed the baby. It isn’t of course, nobody “killed” the baby. He and SO we’re just unlucky. But willow won’t take that answer. He’s a broken monster who wasn’t meant to have kids

#undertale imagines #undertale headcanons #underswap #undertale #swapfell #underfell #horrortale #life is pain #I need a Pepsi

49 notes · View notes

hecketernal · 4 months

Text

Sneak Peak of Chapter Two of The Mar's Tomb Investigation

((this chapter has hands and has been fighting me like a fromsoft boss so yall can get a small treat of this snippet until i manage to wrangle it))

Sig leaned against a wall in the Slum out of way of foot traffic. Not that it would have mattered. Crowds of Havenites tended to part around big wastelanders with an intimidating cybernetic eye and reputation of working with Krew. Still, his mama didn't raise a rude boy, and he wasn't risking his mission just to bother some skittish, city folk. What he was looking for was too important for that. Meaning, he stood outta the way and tried to not attract unnecessary attention from the KG patrols, whilst he watched both sides of the Slums from the conjoining sector.

If he was lucky, he would be able to meet up with the chili peppers here.

If he was unlucky, it would be the starting point to tracking their actual location down.

The way he saw it there were two ways Jak and Daxter would break Tess and whoever else got rounded up by those Krimson Goons out of the prison. Via seeing it firsthand and word of mouth, Sig knew Jak liked to run in hot. Option one was therefore a loud explosive escape paired with a fast getaway vehicle. Option 1 was a good option. It was the kind of plan Sig missed pulling off himself, and it would see Jak and Daxter coming straight to Sig in no time flat. Option two: transportation rings. Sig did not want it to be option two.

The blue eco powered transporters made for an easy way in and out of locations, and they were damn near untraceable. Unless, someone knew to set up a tracer ahead of time, which was more effort and eco than basically anyone wanted to spend. The Underground was lucky the Baron simply couldn't afford to waste the eco with his little war against the metalheads still ongoing. It was more effective to just set up more soldiers and turrets with that eco and prevent any escape in the first place. Any proper tracer was a pain to set up anyways. They took no less then three proper receivers, and each piece of equipment had to be set in a seperate location to allow triangulation. If the drop-off location was within that net, the receivers would pinpoint the location easily. If it was outside of the net, the triangulation would only give you a rough estimate of the direction and distance. Increasing the size of the net to fix that limitation brought its own issues. Namely, it increased the eco output needed to run. Spargus had set up several nets that could be used, but Sig's own personal one would work fine enough here. He didn't need exact coordinates to a Underground Midpoint or safe house, when he didn't have any excuse to know where to be knocking. He'd still be having to frame it as bumping into the boys randomly. He was just lucky he already knew and was friendly with the duo.

Sig wanted to sigh. Triangulation. Eco Nets. Subterfuge. Bluffs.Who would have thought his life would come to this. He was just lucky his identity in Haven was the simple brute. He was capable of doing this. Damas wouldn't have sent him otherwise, but it was mentally exhausting. Each little lie could be one more complications. Something he had to remember and continue to fake; unless, they were immediately nipped or based off of some truth.

It would be worth it for a chance to see Mar again. It was worth it. He mentally pulled up his big boy pants, but he made a note to himself to blow some frustration on the gun range. It wasn't like him to be the down in the dunes downer.

He would find Mar. He had to. A siren went off in the distance. It was showtime.

#jak and daxter #this fic has hands #im doing my best but sig is making me come up with transportation ring lore #jak #daxter #sig #jak 2 #jnd sig #sig jnd #sig jak and daxter #jnd #my au #my fic

5 notes · View notes

bishop-percival · 2 months

Text

@stuckinuniformdevelopment

(prev) Something was bothering Dr. Walters as well. Not clothing. Thankfully his beloved bowtie had survived the attack without serving as a strangulation device. No, he only had one small problem… Namely: Being down a gropdamned fucking arm for three to four weeks! And that was just how long it’d be immobilized. It would take far longer to build his strength back up. Then there were the long-term effects that nobody seemed to want to talk about. Same deal as the fucking ribs. Would he reasonably be able to throw a nice, solid punch in Sam’s face once Bishop Percival was overthrown? Who the hell knows! At the very least he knew that re-injuries were common so… Yeah… He was definitely breakable now. Was it bad that he was considering aiming for one more life? Sam certainly deserved it. And at this rate he may have no choice but to do away with them first. Yet Teddy was uneasy with how he was steadily growing closer to a true Glornist. Now that a week and a half had passed Teddy’s emotional state was starting to improve. Especially once he was allowed to go back to work without being urged to leave. His coworkers didn’t understand how badly he needed a routine. Or the illusion of safety the heightened laboratory security provided. Oooor that he wasn’t exactly broken up about only being able to process paperwork and run tedious, largely automated tests. The latter was his version of birdwatching. From dawn to dusk (in Standard Mati Mountain Time, anyways) Teddy stayed in the lab aside from heading out to join his brother at mealtimes. He never told him what happened but… Freddy seemed to have a rough idea based on how he’d insisted on escorting him to and from the food court. That and nudging Teddy towards friends who did their non-combat work in the area. Teddy appreciated it even if he knew that Freddy was ready to return the favor if he ever found out who dislocated his arm. That potential complication was just another on his long list of reasons to avoid the Glornch as if his life depended on it. Because it did. Was it lucky or unlucky that one of Freddy’s soldier friends had recently broken a leg? Well, lucky for him, unlucky for xim. They’d rarely talked before but xe was nice. More importantly: Having a soldier on his side sleeping by his side helped him rest easy. For the last few nights Teddy had managed to nod off at eleven and planned to aim for ten as he gradually unfucked his sleep schedule. This ended up coming back to bite him when he got visitors around when he usually headed to bed. At first Theodore only stirred enough to bury himself deeper into the thin blanket wrapped around him. Then he heard Bishop Percival’s voice and his eye snapped open after a brief delay. The shock of seeing his two most hated (and feared) enemies staring down at him made him rear back in alarm. He had just barely managed to catch himself before rolling off his bed. Then he froze for awhile before carefully maneuvering to a sitting position. Instead of looking at them Theodore rubbed his eye. Mostly to try to get his eye to relax and stop broadcasting his fear. However, it had limited success. The only reason he appeared to settle down was because his heavy eyelid counteracted it. All he wanted to do was go back to sleep… He swayed as he struggled to keep himself from laying back down in the relatively luxurious cot beneath him.

Percival tried to give a broad, warm, reassuring smile. But Bowtie’s utter alarm was rather amusing, so his smile took on a wry tinge.

“Miserable morning, Bowtie! No need to be scared. I’m gracing you with my presence to help you!”

Meanwhile, Sam was looking rather nervous and was fidgeting. It was clear they weren’t entirely sure what was happening either and certainly didn’t want to be there. So once Percy said he was supposedly helping Theodore, Sam cleared his throat and said, “Well BP, I found him, so I’m just gonna…”

They started to walk away. Unfortunately they weren’t fast enough before the bishop snatched her arm and pulled her to his side.

“Just a moment! Your assignment ain’t done yet!”

The bishop then turned back to Dr. Walters, leaned a bit closer to him, held up two fingers, and spoke steadily.

“Let’s make this quick, hm? You have two options. Option one is to stay riiight here. Option two is to come with me to somewhere less… Crowded.” He then sprang up his pinky finger. “There’s a secret third option, but,” Percy’s smile and voice grew slightly sinister, “you’ll only unlock that if you try to run away.”

He then held up his hand before Dr. Walters had a chance to reply. “And no questions! One or the other! Quick!”

#stuckinuniformdevelopment #soldiersam #long post #the switcheroo

3 notes · View notes

fairyofthestar · 2 years

Text

puppy princess

word count: less than 1k

genre: fem!reader, pining, unrequited love, not a happy ending

requested by: anon

(poor second lead beomgyu)

you know me as your boyfriend's goofy friend i seem to have this effect on women and your friends aren't as goofy as i am

soobin was beomgyu's best friend. if the entire world suddenly turned against him, he was sure that soobin would be the only person who would stay by his side no matter what.

he has done exactly that since the first day they met in daycare center. someone tried to snatch away poor baby beomgyu's toy truck and soobin was there to tell the other kid to back off.

being attached to the hip since then, they've witnessed the achievements and know the stories of all the first times of the other, yet one that beomgyu wished he never knew was soobin's first girlfriend.

the moment he saw you walk through the doors of a nearby cafe one summer day, beomgyu knew that he was a goner. he couldn't take his gaze off of your flowy hair, vibrant glow, and eyes filled with starlight. he thought he had found the one until you approached him and soobin's table, soobin standing up to plant a kiss on your cheek.

ah, so you were soobin's girlfriend.

beomgyu tried his best to make the first meeting as comfortable as possible, pretending as if a whole future with you didn't already flash through his mind. it worked. you found him incredibly funny since his humor was right up your alley.

beomgyu was glad that he managed to act like his usual self that morning, yet he was in turmoil as he tossed and turned in his bed that night, trying so hard not to think about you. 'it's just a silly crush. it will be gone by tomorrow,' he thought to himself.

'cause i feel weak in your hands and your feet a precious end, i'll never feel your touch

beomgyu didn't know what was wrong with him.

it's been months since he first met you and he couldn't forget about his stupid crush on you. in fact, it only became worse. he felt like such a douchebag, pining over his best friend's girlfriend like this. yes, he was keeping his distance and knew his limits, yet he couldn't stop himself from thinking about how he should be the one holding your hand or greeting you with a kiss on the cheek the way that soobin does.

he would find his eyes lingering on you longer than he should, trying to memorize each and every detail on your face. he has stared at you long enough to notice a few unconscious habits of yours. he wonders if soobin has noticed them too.

when soobin runs a bit late during lunch, beomgyu would have this fantasy in his head where you would confess that you never liked soobin as much as you thought you did. he imagined that you would tell him that you liked him the moment that you saw him. he imagined that you would press your lips on him and he would let out a sigh in the kiss, relieved over the fact that he could finally hold you the way he wanted to and he could finally taste those lips that would keep him up at night.

but fantasies are fantasies for a reason.

it was hard for him. he thought it was unfair that he was the unlucky guy to suffer such fate. he saw you everyday since you were always latching on to soobin and he could only make a few excuses as to not look like he was actively avoiding being with soobin—being with you.

he hated how magnetic you were, how a single smile from you would make his entire day brighter, especially when he was the reason for your smile.

so what if he would try harder in acting goofier than usual when he knew your eyes were on him and so what if he had a list of jokes in his phone that he would review every night? no one knew about his intentions except him, and the reward of hearing your contagious laugh was all worth it.

it was the only way he could get your attention without having to break any relationships and friendships since everyone knew that choi beomgyu was that one person who would try hard in making someone laugh, even when he himself was suffering inside.

☆ taglist: @nyangjjunie @ifwtyun @peachy-yabbay @soobpricity @mystiicturtle

☆ if you want to be in my taglist, please tell me in my asks !!

☆ requests are open !!

#Spotify #song requests #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt x reader #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu x reader

75 notes · View notes

multicolour-ink · 1 year

Note

Been thinking about the warp zone area and thought of something interesting. It looks massive and by all accounts- pretty difficult to navigate. Yet one would assume the ability to fast travel to other kingdoms within minutes would out weigh the negatives of taking a wrong turn; just hop back in the way you came and try again. Except from what we see, apart from the bros falling in by accident, no other living soul is using the warp zone. It's been largely abandoned. The NY pipe is rusty and forgotten. Same goes for the one in the MK; all overgrown and dilapidated. I believe the implication is Bowser has purposefully made the warp zone too dangerous to use by making the likelihood of landing in the Darklands very high. Not only is his area dark and ominous when compared to the other normal green pipe exits we see, but it's also massive. Perhaps he has gotten some of the magikoopas to enchant the area to be that way.

Imagine the zone to be the equivalent of a big ol' subway. It may be large and confusing but it's ultimately a way to quickly get from one location to another. Except now someone has rigged the tracks to where if your train car gets too close to a specific location, your train gets diverted into the pits of hell. Yeah, I too wouldn't use that method of transport if I was aware there'd be a chance of that happening. Citizens have stopped using it because it's just not safe anymore.

It's why folks like Toad are so certain that if you go into the big scary pipe, you're never coming back. He knew EXACTLY what Mario was describing.

For Bowser, I think this accomplishes two things:

1. You've effectively cut off easy communication to other lands, making it much more difficult to coordinate a defense. It's probably why Peach, Mario, and Toad need to travel to the Kong's Kingdom mostly on foot.

2. If anyone is unlucky enough to fall into the big scary pipe, you can have minions waiting on the other side to capture and bring them in for interrogation on the goings-on in the other kingdoms.

I have been trying to figure out how the warp pipes in this movie verse work...

For starters, why IS there a warp pipe just sitting at the very depths of a city sewer system on Earth? And why have no other humans (aside from the Bros) fallen into it?

Well, Peach did mention that "there's a whole universe out there"; What if, long ago, that universe was all interconnected, and many worlds could visit each other whenever they pleased?

Or (and this is the theory I'm sticking to), what if the warp pipes are organic matter, like plants that sprout and grow out over time? Like the roots of trees! But (much like tree roots) some warp pipes can spread out too far, and accidentally connect to other worlds. I imagine there are experts or scholars in the Mushroom World who keep track of all the warp pipes and where they go; if they find one has gone too far, then they simply "block it off", preventing any from using it.

If you notice, the pipe Mario falls out of is on a wall, and (unless you do a well timed jump from one of the giant mushrooms) there's no way to get back in there again.

The warp pipes branching off too far can also be at risk of creating "crossroads" (like we see in the warp zone scene). This could also be why some pipes are blocked off.

Bowser blocking the one to his kingdom makes sense as well. He's not going to use it (too big. And he has a flying fortress!), and it stops any unwanted guests from stumbling in.

#hope that's good enough #I'm not 100% sure if bowser would've had a hand in blocking / altering the warp pipe #but he certainly wouldn't care to have anyone else barging into his kingdom #super mario #warp pipes #mario #luigi #bowser #multicolour ink answers #the super mario bros movie #super mario movie #mario movie #mario bros #super mario bros

11 notes · View notes

voraciousvore · 8 months

Text

Bucky's (9/44)

***Contains nonfatal soft vore***

Chapter 9: Business Lunch

The next morning, Bucky banged on the ceiling as usual, shouting at the humans to get up for breakfast. This never-ending nightmare was really wearing Patty down. She never knew what to expect from her day. She might sit in the tank all day without being chosen, or get eaten whole, perhaps multiple times—or there was the specter of death hanging over her head that she might unlucky enough to be selected for fatal ingestion. She feared getting too close to anyone, lest she become attached and then have to witness them get brutally torn apart. She didn’t think her heart could bear it.

The humans, dressed and fed but still groggy, lined up for inspection. Bucky looked over them with fastidious attention to detail, nitpicking on trivial details to keep his restaurant’s food ingredients visually appealing. Graham Cracker remembered not to wear his glasses this time, and shivered as Bucky’s glittering eyes passed over him. Patty was spared from any adjustments.

Instead of dismissing the humans as he normally did, though, Bucky began selecting several humans with thoughtful precision and setting them aside. Patty felt her heart jump with anxiety when Bucky wrapped his finger around her and pulled her into this mysterious grouping. She peered around and observed that all the humans he put to the side were women, for whatever reason. Once Bucky had sorted out about ten women, he dismissed the rest of the humans and corralled them into the passage that led to the tank.

Patty stood in the line of females, sweating with anxiety. Bucky leaned in close to check them all once more. His heavy breathing was noticeable, with how enormous and close he was. “Alright, all of you, listen carefully,” he began. “Big Corp Inc., a very important business partner of ours, has scheduled a luncheon for their executives at the restaurant. I’ve handpicked you all to be in their meals. I expect you all to be on your best behavior. Otherwise, there will be dire consequences.” His eyes hardened. “Understand?”

The humans nodded, and Bucky closed the ceiling and left. Patty felt like she could breathe normally again, but she was still tense. “What’s Big Corp Inc.? Does anybody know?” she asked.

Most of the humans shook their heads, but one woman, Cookie, answered, “I think they’re the ones who supply Bucky with the pills we take, to keep us undigested.”

“Oh, I see.” Patty reflected for a minute. “So, this must be like a promotional thing, for their product they sell. I guess that means none of us are slated for fatal ingestion, right?”

“Hopefully,” Cookie replied, but her tone sounded cynical. She brushed back her long brown hair with her hands and sat down on one of the couches to wait, and most of the others followed suit. Patty was nervous. The idea of a big dinner party full of hungry Giants was intimidating, to say the least. Plus, the fact that they were high-ranking executives in the company worried her, since they might be wealthy enough to afford fatal ingestion, if they were so inclined. Even if none of them chose the option for their business lunch, there was nothing stopping them from coming back on their own time later to patronize the establishment. Patty felt sick just thinking about it, as she recalled the couple who ripped apart their victims last time.

The room lapsed into a tense hush as everyone retreated into their own thoughts. Nobody was in the mood for speculation or conversation. The hours of dreadful anticipation dragged out until, inevitably, Bucky and the two chefs came to collect the human entrees for lunch. Patty tried to keep calm as she was fed a pill and dropped into a bowl of soup as big as a swimming pool. The soup was hot, like a jacuzzi, but bearable with the protective effects of the pill. Although Patty was unrestrained, she didn’t attempt to escape, with the promise of “dire consequences” hanging over her head. She doubted she’d have any chance to get away regardless.

One of the Giantess waitresses carried her off to the table, where all the Big Corp employees were salivating for their meals. Patty was deeply intimidated when she was set down on the table, surrounded by ravenous Giant men in expensive suits, eager to devour their human entrees. She sank down in the soup despondently and looked up at the Giant who would consume her with wide eyes. He towered above her, another huge man in a fancy black suit with a dark blue tie. He was a tall, thin man, about middle-aged, clean-shaven, with flecks of gray in his dark brown hair. He regarded his food with a twisted, inscrutable expression. He glanced over at Patty with soft brown eyes but swiftly averted his gaze, as if shy.

Patty furrowed her brow with confusion. His body language didn’t add up. He hesitantly picked up his spoon and dipped it in his soup, far away from Patty. She had been teased and tormented enough to know that some Giants whetted their appetite by eating around her, but she didn’t get that vibe from this particular Giant. He wasn’t smirking or sneering. He was stonefaced. He wasn’t trying to frighten her. If anything, the more Patty studied him, the more his façade seemed to crack under pressure. She saw, buried within his eyes, a glint of anxiety, perhaps even fear. The corners of his mouth twitched with distress.

Patty didn’t understand what was going on with him. She surveyed the rest of the Giants at the table, who were scarfing down their meals with alacrity. She witnessed Cookie, perched on a fork, disappear into the mouth of one of the Giants. His throat contracted, and his hand drifted over his neck as he gulped her down whole. To his right, another Giant snapped up his human in a burger and consumed her. On the left, Patty could just make out Pepper’s red hair sticking out of a sandwich before she was engulfed into the jaws of her Giant customer.

Patty, treading soup, turned around and gazed back up at the Giant who was supposed to be eating her. He was sweating. He fiddled absently with the knot of his tie, as if it were strangling him. He kept eating bites of the soup slowly, avoiding Patty with his spoon. By apparent contradiction, she heard his stomach grumble beneath the table, indicating he was in fact quite hungry. He ran his hand through his hair nervously and wiped his clammy forehead. The soup in the bowl had drained enough to where it only reached Patty’s knees, yet he still pointedly ignored her. By now, all the other humans at the luncheon had been consumed, leaving only Patty.

His struggle became apparent to Patty. He didn’t want to eat her. He was only at the restaurant at the behest of his company. Patty was surprised to find that not all Giant men were man-eating monsters like she thought, and she was sympathetic to his plight. He grew more agitated as he recognized his meal was mostly gone, except for the poor little human remaining that he was supposed to eat. His peers noticed his stalling and began to berate him.

“Aren’t you going to eat your human, Leon?” the Giant next to him asked, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Yeah, come on already! Quit teasing and finish her off!” another Giant chimed in. “Unless you’re a soy boy wimp!”

“Your predecessor Richard would have gulped her down in the first bite! Remember how fast he gobbled up that cute little blonde lady in the meeting that one time?” Some of the other executives murmured indistinctly as they recalled their old coworker with fondness.

Patty’s Giant—apparently named Leon—darkened at the mention of Richard. “Don’t compare me to that loser,” he growled softly, slumping down in his chair.

One of the Giants cleared his throat, and the others went silent. He had a commanding presence, not only with how physically large and broad he was but also in his innate aura, that suggested he was somebody important, somebody in charge. His desire to make himself known had a chilling effect on the rest of the men. He leaned forward, resting his bearded chin on his clasped hands. “Leon,” he rumbled. The man stiffened at the utterance of his name, and a chill ran up his spine. “I expect you to eat that human. Don’t disappoint me.” He raised a bushy eyebrow.

Leon gulped and wordlessly picked up his spoon. He hesitated and looked down at Patty. She met his eyes and gave him a small nod of approval. She had become invested in the drama unfolding before her and was on his side. His Adam’s apple fluttered in his throat as he scooped up Patty in his spoon. She settled down in the curved end willingly, not taking her eyes off his. She felt a tremor in the spoon as he raised her up to his lips, which he licked nervously. After a long pause, he opened his mouth, releasing a breath, and gently enveloped Patty inside. He removed the spoon and closed his mouth around her, trying to keep her as comfortable as possible. Even though he didn’t want to eat her, the contact between her body and his tongue triggered a pool of saliva to form in his mouth at her appealing flavor. He couldn’t deny he was hungry, and Patty sensed his stomach gurgling down below, waiting for her.

Patty sat on his tongue and waited for the inevitable. He didn’t swallow right away. She fidgeted with mild impatience and discomfort. Finally, he made a show of a pretend, exaggerated swallow, draining the saliva in his mouth but not actually swallowing her. His coworkers were easily fooled, and believed he had eaten the human. They slapped him on the back and congratulated him, then went about ordering dessert. Patty remained in his mouth, staring down the dark tunnel of his gullet, not sure what to expect. She exhaled with relief that she hadn’t been eaten yet, but she was still trapped inside. Saliva began to fill his mouth again, and his breathing was stressed and labored. She felt a bit sorry for him, despite her circumstances. The physical reactions of his body clearly indicated that, if he were able to overcome his mental block, he would find consuming a human enjoyable. He was too kind to do what he considered a morally reprehensible action, yet too timid to stand up to his coworkers or his boss.

When the attention of the party had turned away from him, Leon pretended to wipe his lips off with a cloth napkin and discreetly spat Patty out, bunching the cloth around her so she wouldn’t be seen. “Sorry,” he whispered softly to her in a sheepish apology, while she was still next to his mouth, before lowering her down into his lap to hide her. Making small movements with his fingers, so as not to be conspicuous, he cleaned his spit off Patty with the napkin as best he could. He felt ashamed of himself, and his cowardice, but also relieved that he didn’t have to eat her. He couldn’t imagine what the poor little humans who were forced to work at the restaurant were feeling. From the manager meetings at Big Corp Inc., he gleaned the truth about the horrible circumstances by which humans were conscripted to work for disreputable Giant businesses like Bucky’s, and it sickened him.

He hid Patty under the cloth napkin in his lap and pretended as if nothing were amiss. Patty shivered instinctively when she heard his huge stomach growl, and he felt a sharp pang of guilt for being at the restaurant like some sort of heartless, savage ogre. The waitresses brought slices of pie for dessert and the Giant executives chatted with lively conversation, exhilarated to finally have the chance to eat at Bucky’s and have a taste of the human entrees for themselves. They raved about how it felt to have a tiny person squirming around in their bellies, how delicious and satisfying the sensation was. Many of them boldly vowed to return, perhaps to try fatal ingestion. Leon stayed quiet as he ate his pie, doing his best to hide his revulsion. Patty felt him shift slightly with discomfort in his chair when the discussion took a particularly graphic turn. He kept one hand in his lap curled gently around Patty, as if to protect her.

As much as Patty felt sorry for the Giant whose lap she was in, she sensed a golden opportunity. She was currently nestled in the hand of somebody sympathetic to her plight. She was unguarded and unrestrained, and halfway down to the floor. Hope surged through her. She might be able to escape. She didn’t know what she’d do about the tracker, but she wasn’t going to stress over it and waste her chance. She felt a bit guilty, knowing that there would be consequences for the compassionate Giant if he lost her, but she figured he’d have to understand that her survival was far more important than any punishment or social stigma he might receive.

Carefully, trying not to draw attention to herself, Patty began to edge her way over the Giant’s leg to his knee. His hand tensed mildly, indicating he was aware of her movements, but he didn’t restrain her. She crawled under his fingers and he lifted them up to allow her passage, essentially giving her his blessing. Emboldened, Patty moved faster, freeing herself from the cover of the napkin when she reached his knee. She gave him one last look, meeting his soft eyes full of understanding, before gripping on to the fabric of his pants and starting to climb down his leg. He didn’t budge an inch, although she was certain he could feel her rustling his clothes. She dropped onto his black shoe, then slid down the side until her feet hit the floor. She had done it. She could escape!

Chapter 1

Chapter 10

4 notes · View notes