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cyberpxnk · 1 year

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jealous | song mingi (1/2)

♡ part two

♡ pairing: mingi x fem! reader (afab) ♡ chapters: 1 out of 2 ♡ word count: 3.9k ♡ rating: mature/18+ (minors dni) ♡ genre: pwp, smut, established relationship

♡ synopsis: choi san finds great fun in trying to seduce mingi's girl on the daily. on one particular night, you're left to deal with the consequences of san's actions after their concert. waiting alone in the dressing room, you fear that you're in for a wild ride.

♡ warnings/tags: idol! mingi, rengoku hair! mingi, brief mentions of ateez, smut, shameless tbh, jealous behavior, possessive behavior, sweaty mingi, san is a little shit but he means well, a lil bit of man handling, size kink, mingi GOT THE SCHLONG, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, praise, name calling, spanking, bruising, biting, hair pulling, slight dom/sub undertones, slight voyeurism

♡ author’s note:

kinda proof read but not rly tbh

howdy, folks! this is my first time posting in the ateez writing community, so i hope this is to everyone’s liking. i haven’t written anything in a few years but the creative juices have been flowin lately !!

this is also cross posted on my ao3, if you would like to support me there as well. this was originally a one part fic, but i’m currently in the midst of finishing up the second and final chapter. thank you and happy reading! comments r greatly appreciated :plead: :3

Swarmed by hundreds, your body is rocking amongst many others as the sounds of singing and shouting fills the air. The music is loud and pulsing through your ears, yet you feel at home within the crowd of fans. You don’t think you will ever get tired of seeing the boys perform live, despite spending nearly every waking moment around them. Similarly, Mingi is with you almost everyday yet you can never stop yourself from marveling at the sight of his lithe figure. It’s as if you’re seeing him for the first time ever with each new day.

With your hungry eyes following the fluid movements of his hips, he easily sways to the current song’s beat as he begins to drift further from your peripherals, heading toward the opposite side of the stage. Soon after his disappearance another figure soon comes into your view, their laced boots firmly planted on the stage in front of you. Even as those around you stir with excitement, your gaze barely strays from Mingi.

Only until hearing the screams erupt louder around you do you reluctantly tear your eyes away from his retreating back. Always being good at eliciting reactions from the fans, San’s sensual movements don’t go unnoticed by you or those surrounding him. The performer loved to get a rise out of making his fellow member jealous, although you were immune to his charms after many years of his ceaseless teasing.

To you, his flirting is almost always harmless and mostly just a hoax to get under Mingi’s skin. You can’t help but to roll your eyes at his obvious antics in trying to rouse you, but he instead begins to attract the aforementioned rapper back over to your corner. The male before you gyrates once more, hoping to further divert your attention from Mingi. It doesn't seem to take long for the other man to catch on as he practically stomps his way over to San.

Even if San's action never affected you, it always left a sour taste in Mingi's mouth. His jealousy was clear as day given how he was reacting now. Unseen by the public eye, his bout of anger was unnoticed by the fans — but not to you and San. In fact, the crowd is more than delighted by his quick return. His appearance beside his band mate prompts another round of enthusiastic yelling. Those around you wave and jitter excitedly and their mass of hands reach for the two idols, their phones held high.

Mingi is hovering close to the edge of the stage, mic in hand as he dances — his movements are aggressive, his irritations evident through the flow of his rhythmic dances. He bounces on his feet, rocking back and forth while following the groove of the music. It’s then that he tips his cap up slightly, immediately meeting your eyes with his own smoldering gaze.

Look only at me. The expression on his face says enough.

You can see a sliver of his tongue peeking out beneath his teeth before a shit eating grin is plastered across his features. He and his tongue do nothing but taunt you, slipping to and from his ample lips. You can’t help the flash of vivid imagery that briefly fills your mind. Eyes fluttering just barely, you find yourself imagining the wet appendage slipping into your hot cunt — his plump lips kissing at your wet folds as he eats you out. Fuck. The heat that rises through your body is immediate and you find yourself involuntarily shouting out for the man, joining the crowd as you all bristle animatedly from his interactions. He only smirks to you, as if knowing fully well what nasty thoughts were running rampant through that pretty little head of yours.

Mingi looks sinfully delicious in the fitted monochrome attire he adorns. Even he seems to know it, easily relishing within the attention he garners. You will definitely have to thank the stylists later. Even with little skin to show, limbs covered, the straps that hook around his lean torso only further excite you and feed into your fantasies. There's nothing more you want to do than to grab at the fabric of his shirt and yank him off the stage to make out. In front of the audience, you knew if he ever had the chance he would love to absolutely fuck you mindless on the stage. You also knew his sole purpose for frequenting your side of the stage so often was to get you hot and bothered.

You hated him for teasing you; loathed him for leaving you wanting and physically aching for his touch. The deliberate and slow thrusts of his hips are meant specially for you, but his cocky antics played it all off so easily. The fans would never suspect that he danced with such passion only to wind you up. Thankfully, you were not the only one amongst the fans feeling the heat from him. However, you did have the full satisfaction of knowing that at the end of the day you would be the one he was bending over.

Upon entering the dressing room, you could already see his sweat covered figure panting; exhausted from the concert yet seemingly more than ready to jump you. His breaths are labored with a primal desire and you can feel his heated gaze heavy on you. Yourself only adorned in a strappy crop top and tight little skirt left much of your skin exposed to his roaming eyes and little to his imagination. During the entirety of the set you two had exchanged many looks of yearning. The tension gave way and it was no wonder that he was ready to fuck you here and now. It isn’t long before his towering figure is looming over you, grabbing you abruptly as he practically tosses you against the nearest wall.

"Fuck!" A sputter of profanities. With the air being knocked out of your chest, you have no time to try to recover from his actions — literally breathless against his muscular frame. You can barely react as you're thrown up against the door with your back hitting the steel surface forcefully. Only the lean of his body and his taut muscles pin you up and you're nearly slipping down the door until you're scrambling to hook your legs around his waist. His broad hands find their grip on you, one squeezing a thigh to further hoist you up before the other grasps your hair tightly.

The impact has you feeling dizzy, yet you know you should be used to Mingi's roughness by now. There is a hard tug of your locks and you find yourself craning your neck to him obediently as he directs you by your hair with ease. The delicious expanse of skin is exposed to his eager mouth and he’s leaving hot kisses along your nape. Each brush of his lips burns into your skin, a fire further igniting beneath your belly. A whine bubbles from your throat once his teeth begin to graze along your throat, nipping gingerly.

Mingi has always been needier than you; always having to touch you, always wanting to taste you, and always needing to mark you. Despite knowing this, when he bites down between the junction of your neck and shoulder particularly hard, you can't stop yourself from crying out pathetically. His tongue allows you temporary solace, lapping against the tender wound before he begins to suck at the same spot. The hickeys he enjoyed leaving on the canvas of your skin were always welcomed, only fueling the desire that has been rapidly building over the night. The skin seems to bruise tenderly beneath his touches. Each mark is deliberate. He wants everyone to know that you were accounted for, especially San.

"You're mine." The baritone of his voice sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core and you're nearly keening at his words.

"Yours," you breathily say back to him as your hands grasp his shoulders.

"That's right. You belong to me. You're mine and only mine." His lips find yours briefly before he leans up to bite your ear, his husky voice raspy and hot against you. The trickle of words that leave his mouth don't stop even as his strong hands begin to roam your body once more. One arm holds you steady against the door as the other dips between the apex of your thighs. You gasp out as his long fingers inch closer to your core, stroking along the clinging fabric of your already soaked underwear.

"Look at you. Already dripping for me. You've been wanting me to touch you all night, haven't you? My needy girl."

Another startled sound comes from you as he easily tears the flimsy cloth from your body, hastily shoving your underwear into his back pocket. You can barely utter a word, instead settling for a choked noise of surprise as two of his fingers suddenly plunge past your slick folds. The stretch is immediate and he wastes no time pumping his digits within you as his thumb circles over your clit. With your mind reeling, you can barely catch up to his actions. His fingers feel so damn good scissoring within you that any coherent thoughts you possessed swiftly diminished.

The breathy moan that falls from your lips is delectable and much louder than anticipated. You’re both well aware that anyone passing by could probably hear you two, but that only seems to encourage the man to continue his efforts. If he was going to fuck you senseless, he surely had hoped San could hear him through the walls.

"Mmm.. You like that, babe? Do my fingers feel good?" Before you can answer, his mouth slots against yours with fervor. You two are exchanging sloppy kisses, teeth knocking into each other as your bruised lips move in unison — hot and heavy with your tongues intertwining. The desperation to taste you is too much. It's evident among his greedy touches.

You're pathetically grinding against his palm, his fingers furled to press deep at the delicate tissue of your g spot. With his soaked fingers expertly delving back and forth inside you, he easily reaches spots that have you dizzy with pleasure. You're soft and pliant to his ministrations, juices audibly gushing down his wrist with every pump. The sound is embarrassing to your ears, but your writhing body spurs Mingi on as he's no sooner curling his drenched fingers harder against your arousal.

He detaches from your lips, his own lingering down your shoulder blade. His nose is grazing along your skin as you're painfully arched between him and the door. Each thrust is driving you further away from sanity, your mind hazy with lust. With your mouth agape, you cannot stop the string of garbled noises that fall from your lips. Mingi always knows how to make you fall apart at his hands. The size and thickness of his fingers were nearly enough to have your orgasm peaking, but it was never that simple with the man.

The entirety that fills you is fleeting and you're soon whining out from his withdrawal. The actions have you locking eyes with him, his pupils blown wide with lust. Breathing heavily from his swollen lips, Mingi looks frenzied the way he bores into you. You can feel him undressing you so readily with his stifling stare. He looks crazed, his fiery locks damp and wild. The sheen of sweat on his skin is smooth and his musk is heavy, intoxicating your senses.

“M-Mingi.. Please,” you mewl at him pathetically, clenching around nothing but your own heat.

“What do you want, needy girl?” Your skin feels hot from his question. You are shy to utter a response and instead squirm beneath him, hips meeting from your movement.

“You want my fingers?” He grasps your jaw with one hand, grip tightening as his thumb grazes along your mouth. You're eager to wrap your lips around his finger, tongue brushing against his digit.

“Or maybe you want me to eat that pretty pussy of yours?” A strangled noise forms at the back of your throat upon hearing his words.

“You can barely keep quiet around my fingers. Everyone is going to hear you scream if I do that.” He says such things as if the results wouldn't be the same regardless of how you came unraveled. You would take him all the same.

With the absence of his hands between your bodies, you're suddenly free to grind against his groin. You're desperate and needy for him to be closer, chasing a temporary relief from being teased toward your orgasm. The action is welcomed as you finally feel the shape of his straining erection pressed to your dripping slit. The material of his pants does nothing to hide his size, fabric growing increasingly wet from your movements.

Just as you're enjoying yourself rocking against him, you’re unceremoniously dropped by him and you're staggering to try and find your balance as your feet shakily hit the ground, knees nearly buckling.

“Mingi, what the fuck?” Hands meeting his shoulders, you're holding on as you try to keep steady.

He ignores your pestering and busies himself with removing his trousers. The sound of metal clinking is heard as his belt drops to the floor. Haphazardly he is tugging down his zipper, pants and underwear pooling at his ankles. In all his glory, he’s left standing before you as you openly ogle his well endowed size. Everything about him is so big and it turns you on immensely.

The sinful sight has your mouth going dry. It’s hard not to stare at how his swollen tip smears a trail of precum against the toned muscles aligning his stomach. You would drop to your knees then and there just for a taste, but knowing Mingi, he wouldn't allow anything of the sort whilst in charge.

“Can’t wait to take my big cock, huh?” Mingi seems extra mouthy today. You roll your eyes at his words, though they do nothing to quell the fire in your loins. It’s not long before you're closing the gap between your bodies, hands tangling within his tresses. Thankfully, he gets the message and shuts up as your mouths reconnect in a heated exchange of saliva. Tongues are met feverishly, enjoying each other's taste as you card through his hair.

Between gasps and whines, there is a playful tug on the bottom of your lip when Mingi begins to withdraw from the kiss. His hands linger along your neck, trailing to cup your cheek as his narrowed stare grows more intense with each passing second. You swallow thickly.

“Turn around and show me that ass, pretty girl,” he instructs, the low grovel of his voice shooting a tremor straight to your core. The new position you take feels vulnerable and it's evident as your thighs seem to tremble with anticipation once you've swiveled to face the door. Despite your face growing hot with embarrassment, you can't help yourself from turning slightly to try and meet his gaze with curiosity.

His eyes are zeroed in at the exposed skin beneath your skirt. From this angle he can see just how wet you truly are, your folds slick and coated with your own arousal. Large hands are soon gripping at your ass, squeezing appreciatively as he spreads them apart with a guttural moan.

“Fuck, you’re so wet… Are you this needy just for me, baby? You want me to make you cum that bad?”

You whine.

With a rough shove you stumble forward, flush to the wall with your chest against the door as the solid metal meets your torso. Mingi maneuvers you to arch forward, his feet planted between yours while he's holding you by your rear. You're whimpering against the door, expectant and ready once you feel the intimidating length of his cock finding its way between your drooling slit. He pauses for a moment, enjoying your squirming against him.

The room almost feels too quiet, tension thick with your combined breaths as you listen to the slick movements of his erection teasing along your aching cunt. You jerk yourself back against him, forcing his tip to slide past your clit. This earns a pleased moan from you, but you're met with his disapproving tsk as he slaps your ass a single time in warning. The pain is resounding, stinging so good that you cry out for him.

“Look at you. So impatient. You can't wait until I fuck you full, huh?” The head of his dick inches past your walls. His movements still, listening to you as you try not to sob out in frustration.

“You’re going to take all of me in your tight little cunt, and I want you to scream my name so loud that San will never think to cross me again. Do you understand?” Mingi's voice rumbles deep and firm against the shell of your ear, the implications behind his words are dangerous and clear yet another wave of hot arousal courses through your body. The fresh trickle of liquid that begins to trail from your wetness down your thigh is enough to show the man just how desperate and obedient you will be for his cock.

“I said do you understand me?” He repeats himself once, voice raising as he grasps a fistful of your hair. You respond with a wince, eyes springing with tears at the sudden sting on your scalp.

“Do you?!” Another slap to your already reddening cheeks.

“Yes! I understand! P-Please, please! Mingi! I need you inside me!” You sob out to him, tears slipping down your cheeks.

"Good girl." A harsh snap of his hips forward and he's plunging himself deep within your cunt. You feel yourself stretch around the entirety of his size, eyes rolling back in pleasure as your walls wrap around his thickness. Your tears fall freely at the relief that floods your senses, reveling in how deeply he reaches within you.

There is a mix between a wail and moan that falls from your mouth once he begins to rut himself against your backside. The pace he sets is brutal, pistoning hard into you as he shifts back and forth inside your heat.

The sound of skin slapping is loud, messy and wet, squelching with his every thrust. Gods, he felt so big inside you. Each movement is met by his labored panting, a guttural noise bubbling from the back of his throat as he angles himself to fuck into you mercilessly. He wants you to cum fast and he knows you'll be unable to last with how you're barely keeping yourself standing against the door. An arm encircles your waist, ensuring you're somewhat upright as his other is gripping your hip bruisingly.

The way his hips buck into yours drive you mad and each drag of his cock within your fluttering walls has you keening. The fullness of his size fills you so well that you can feel the pressure of his heavy length against your g spot.

“Mingi!” You scream when he pulls out of you completely before pounding back in particularly hard, making sure to hit your g spot over and over as he resumes his rhythm.

“Good girl… Taking me so well,” he growls lowly against your neck, planting hungry kisses along your nape. Where he has already marked, he begins another trail of bruises down your neck, each love bite decorating your skin in a way that satiates his possessive nature.

“S-So close, Mingi…” You whimper into the door, meeting his thrusts with your own sloppy movements. You can feel the tension coiling within your belly as he jerks into you. Your cunt is twitching wildly around his shaft, encouraging his cock with the squeeze of your folds around him.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna fall apart on this big dick?” Languid kisses follow up your ear, and his words are igniting you, fueling the flame that is your orgasm. You barely process the hand that has slipped from your ass and now lays between your legs, fingers rubbing wet and slick against your throbbing clit.

The digits that play around your button have you chanting Mingi’s name in an endless hymn, mindlessly moaning as his tempo grows erratic. He knows that you're almost there, he can feel the way your cunt is clenching him so tightly.

“Come on, pretty girl. Come for me.” The way his fingers pinch at your clit and how he fucks himself into you with reckless abandon causes you to orgasm fast and hard. Your eyes are fluttering shut and you see stars, reaching the crescendo that is your orgasm. Your pussy is spasming around him when you come, your hips weakly pushing back against his thrusts to ride your high.

With your writhing and convulsions gripping his cock, it doesn't take him long to reach his own orgasm as he chases for release. He is sloppy, frenzied and desperate as he hammers into you, pace only stuttering as he begins to spill rope after rope of his hot cum into you. He peaks with a loud groan, hands finding their way back to your ass to grip at the mounds of flesh before his movements slow to a lazy grind.

You feel him pull out of you once he's had his fill, and it has you whimpering softly as you try to ignore the feeling of his cum seeping out of you. He is huffing heavily when he turns you around to face him, hands cupping your cheeks. Mingi peppers kisses lovingly all over you before pressing his lips to yours sweetly.

“God, I love you, babe… Let's get you cleaned up.”

“I love you too, Min.”

The people that await you outside of the dressing room are not particularly pleased as the two of you step from the door, both red with embarrassment. Bowing your head and grasping Mingi’s hand, you both flee toward the room that ATEEZ occupies. It doesn’t take long to reunite with the rest of the group, but entering the vicinity, the room is silent and the tension is palpable. The resident captain seems to be fuming near the back, motioning for Mingi to come to him before he begins to scold the latter. You definitely don’t miss the scalding glare he shoots your way too.

Shuffling awkwardly you turn to face the others, and you can see that Yunho’s ears are red as he refuses to meet your eyes. You can't help but to smile sheepishly. The rest of the group seems to be idling around, either playing on their phones or chatting together quietly. Similarly, some of them barely glance to you while others offer a shy wave in greeting. It's clear to you that the rest of the members and some staff weren’t exempt from hearing your loud ass shenanigans. You knew that you and Mingi would get reprimanded for it later, but at least you got some killer sex out of it.

Amongst Hongjoong’s bickering and Mingi’s apologies, it is San who stands from the couch and clears his throat as he casually saunters over to you. An arm is thrown around your shoulder as he ducks his head down close to yours.

You see Mingi’s head whip over to your direction. San smirks.

“So, I take it the plan worked?”

You only grin back at him.

#ok also like im lowkey scared of posting this but seriously i hope u guys like it #i just wanna make atiny writer/reader friends :sob: which is the whole reason why i revamped my tumblr #hehe :3 #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez ff #ateez scenarios #mingi scenarios #mingi smut #ateez smut #ateez oneshot #mingi x reader #song mingi x reader #ateez x reader #cyberpxnkwrites

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the-curse-of-neoclones · 6 months

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Moderneopets Artist Mistreatment

Edit as of 11/16/23 10:40 AM NST:

Removed names where I failed to do so before. I'm very sorry to the affected parties, this snowballed so far out of my intended scope.

Edit as of 11/16/23 5:30 PM NST

Please see this post for a small update.

As of 11/16/23 10:10 PM NST, Hazer the site owner has formally and publicly apologized to myself and Velu, the other affected artist. As far as I'm concerned he has officially handled the situation as best as he could, and I hold no further qualms with Moderneopets. I hope to hear of its management continuing in this direction.

The following post is left up for archival purposes only.

*****

Hello, I’m wren. I'm an artist responsible for some of the pet assets on the neoclone, Moderneopets. I'm just going to get into it.

Hazer was extremely lucky to somehow cultivate a dense group of largely professional artists to work together to make assets for his site. When it comes to his own management as a site runner, he’s largely hands-off of the art department, which is a good thing! If he can’t be active in the art panel enough to know what goes on in there, he shouldn’t be running it— we have many strong, capable artists on the team who are passionate about recreating the neopets style, who work together on every pet that has been released ever since critique became a requirement.

It makes sense that, with a project this large, Hazer should have to designate moderators to enforce rules when he is absent. Choosing to bring on moderators was also a good decision. Unfortunately, he chose poorly.

Art panel issues should have separate Art panel moderators to take care of them. People who are not overburdened with generic moderation duties from the many other channels of the server, for example. In the same vein, artists should not be moderators. When an artist has an issue with another artist, who happens to be a moderator (which has happened many times, with many people— If the mods actually open threads for all complaints they receive, they should have evidence of this & if they don’t they are not being truthful), the artist would likely not feel comfortable approaching that same artist-slash-moderator to complain about what happened. It breeds an aura of fear and discomfort any time there is an issue with an artist/mod, and that is why the two moderators on the team should have to choose one or the other if hazer wants to cultivate a healthy atmosphere in his panel.

I’ve created many pets for this website. Neopets has been a passion of mine since the third grade. I’m also one of those professional artists I mentioned— my work is also art, industry or otherwise. I care about breaking neopets down into their core, recognizable shapes. I care about keeping them on-model and in the spirit of the original TNT art team, with improvements made where I and the other panelists think they make sense. I have redlined for other artists to an even greater degree, just as other artists have redlined for me and helped me finalize each pet into something simply good: something that made sense to get put on a little passion project website for other people with a similar passion to enjoy. I found the panel to be a community of likeminded artists with which to discuss our favorite childhood petsite while we made art for a clone, as if we could pretend we were making art for neopets-dot-com. It was nice.

It wasn’t perfect, though. In fact, shortly after I joined in 2021 I took a hiatus because the art panel was fairly dead. I came back a little while later to see we had several new species, as well as an art director, and lots of activity! That was very exciting. Over the next year I would reach out to the panel or, if nobody was sure of how to proceed, I would reach out to the art director to propose ideas for how to make the panel a little more functional; quality of life updates, if you will. I don’t take credit for all of these alone, there were other artists with similar ideas all communicating to the director in private, but some examples:

A designated “collab” zone where artists could seek out other artists to complete pets with.

“The Purge,” in which the team was whittled down to ~25 current, active artists to refresh the team and allow for new artists to join.

“The Approval System,” which I first sat down with in my workshop (public to all artists) to hammer out the details with as many other artists as wanted to give their input— a method for pitching new ideas to eventually break through the “new species/color freeze” that had been plaguing us.

Speaking on the approval system: like most things that required Hazer’s direct input in the art team, it was left without response for a very long time. Artists with ideas for custom species or colors would occasionally murmur about their excitement for the system to get a look-over by hazer, to see if our approval system pitch would be approved. But hazer is busy, as we all know, and the pitch sat for a while. We had new & returning artists on the team to keep everyone busy.

What I would expect from a years-old panel of artists, when new additions arrive, would be some manner of tutorial. New artists would need to know the pipeline (here’s your workshop, you can post WIPs and anything else in there; here’s how you ping for critique, here are the spaces in which to ask for it; make sure you always ping before your work is submitted on-site), and there would likely be some acclimating on both sides. What I did not expect (but should have), was pushback from new artists on things that hadn’t had pushback in a long time. Why can’t [x] color be a posechange? Well, we’ve created many already and none of them were posechanges. Why can’t I use colored lineart? Well, that isn’t in line with the style standards set by this color; see, nobody else is coloring their lineart.

Suddenly there was a divide between veteran artists, the director, and the new blood. The divide felt greater when Hazer came to his new artist’s aid to say, approximately: “Eh, if someone wants to go above and beyond and make better art, they shouldn’t have to adhere to the guidelines.” Then he threw the art director under the bus for not somehow knowing that his intentions were always to keep the panel loose and unstructured. But don’t worry, that isn’t the first bus and won’t be the last.

My personal investment in the panel waned around that time. I think a structured “work” environment with easily accessible rules and deadlines is necessary to any project of this size. If we didn’t want to enforce color standards, nor prioritize certain colors for release, and anyone could just submit whatever Nice Art they wanted, why not open it up so any user could submit pet art? Why have a panel at all? Isn’t Hazer taking any opportunity to dunk on Leopets because he wants his site to be better? How is this different?

But I stuck around. This was a hobby I really enjoyed, after all, and I really believed it could get better. It had a good core, and despite my grievances with individual artists, none of them were bad people.

But I noticed some trends. New artists would receive feedback that they didn’t agree with and retaliate by bringing in their emotions or personal preferences. Any disagreement where multiple veteran artists stepped in to say their piece would escalate to the point of very long messages on both sides, and would need to be left to hazer to give a final input. Often he didn’t come around to it, because he’s busy, as we know. I didn’t step in to every argument; they became cyclical after a while, and I didn’t have the time or energy to spend simply tapping the proverbial sign (or style sheet). I would try to give positive suggestions when I could, for example: I don’t think this color needs another alt for just one single design, but we did talk about eventually making this color that your design would fit into really well.

I’ve done my time having arguments on the internet. I really just want an art environment where the rules are set and people actually enjoy following them, because I do— I see art rules as helpful guidelines at best and obstacles to cleverly navigate at worst, which is still fun. But of course not everyone is going to feel the same way, that’s normal; that’s life.

On 11/9 I was given this message by Hazer:

It reads:

Hello wren,

I am reaching out to you today to inform you that effective immediately you are being dismissed from the Artist and Consultant Panels. This decision has been reached through discussions and based on repeated offences in the form of user harassment and subjecting the panels to a toxic atmosphere, after multiple reports and concerns brought up to us by other users.

While we understand concerns regarding panel management, there is a distinct difference between criticising and condeming the way the panel does things and criticising and condeming users that are on the panel, and we believe this line has been crossed one too many times, further supported by concerns brought to us.

We appreciate the passion and drive of our team—all of them—and we understand you have been very passionate about the panel. Given some of the messages we see, we have also concluded that due to things in the panel not working out as you have wished, it has caused you much stress and upset as well, which we do not want. All in all, we've decided that the atmosphere of the panel and your own enjoyment of the website are hampered by your presence on it. Because of this, we have decided it is best to have you part ways with the staff sections of the website.

Effective immediately after this message, we will be permanently removing you from the panels. While normally we do a temporary removal, in this case we've seen that your compatability with our management and handling of the panel will not improve, and it will just bring stress to both sides.

We understand you have put a lot of passion into the projects you have been working on for release in Moderneopets, and in lieu of that, we offer you the option of having the project(s) still be released even after dismissal. Rewards will still be granted for releases per usual, and credit will still be given. If you decide, due to dismissal, you do not want your unreleased work to be released on Moderneopets, simply state it as such, and we will discard all progress on projects you have been working on to respect those wishes.

This decision is final and will not be revoked.

Best wishes to you,

The Moderneopets Team

[end caption]

My response:

It reads:

No warnings huh?

[end caption]

Hazer didn’t have an answer for me. I was already removed from the panel.

This came as a shock. I’d been there for over two years, I felt I had a good rapport with the other artists, I felt I’d been a helpful and active addition to the team. Like I said, I’ve done my time having arguments on the internet… what toxic behavior? Discussions over style guides? Giving redlines to people with permission? Working with the whole team to bolster several new color releases? I had an entire species that Hazer wanted ready to go since March— I just pushed through the Swamp Gas release, I just created the Mystical alt?

No warnings?

Let me reiterate: I have never been spoken to by any staff about my behavior. Hazer, his then-four moderators— none of them have ever been in my DMs to issue a warning. I have spoken TO the mods about others’ behaviors, and nothing ever came of it. The one time (and I mention this for full transparency only) the art director came to talk to me about something I said, it was stated clearly that it was not a warning, and even so I adjusted my behavior around said issue accordingly. And that was well before the purge.

But, don’t take my word for it. Here it is from hazer himself, speaking over his mods who were busy telling the rest of the panel that they always issue warnings:

It reads:

No in this case I do agree that this has been an abrupt situation and I understand the blind-sided-ness of it. No official warnings were given out regarding the actions that resulted in the removal of artists today and that’s on fault of myself and deebs not working things out properly despite the moderation team bringing issues to a us a few times – also due to our lack of availability recently. [end caption]

So… What happened? Well… here it is from Hazer, in longform:

For those who use screen readers, above are several enormous discord screenshots; I've placed it in a paste bin here: https://pastebin.com/dHLiBRTF

Two other artists immediately stepped down. Hazer admits here in his message that he and the mods had multiple tickets opened about my behavior, that they had known they wanted to remove me. They never gave a warning, never talked to me until the moment of my dismissal, but they had known it was coming for months?

Why did Hazer and his gang of mods let me continue working on art for their panel? Why did they let me work so hard to pull Swamp Gas together for an official release? Why did they let me put together a whole custom Alt and workshop it for so long? I’ve been active this whole time. Why did you let me keep working if you knew you wanted me gone?

I am a professional artist. My work is art. Hazer made the knowing decision to exploit my time and effort for his website. He’s not paying me, he’s not paying any of us. It’s volunteer work. But I did not volunteer to be mistreated like this. To not even be given a chance to defend myself. To him, artists are disposable. To him, if someone has worked on your team for years but speaks up when your friend tries to overturn the system, even civil discussion is cause for disposal. Civil discussion negates years of effort, passion, time and care.

I didn’t have to make art for you, Hazer. And you don’t deserve the team you have. How many artists have voiced their discomfort with your actions? How many artists are taking a break from the panel because of how you handled this? Ah, wait, you wouldn’t know… you’re busy.

Hazer and his mod team are just another corrupt group of individuals unfortunately heading what could have been a fun and promising petsite. Everyone who speaks praise of modneo does it by and large because of the new and unique art. Hazer was extremely lucky to cultivate a dense group of largely professional artists to work together to make assets for his site.

If Hazer wants to show any sign of his potential to be a better person, I believe he needs to formally apologize to his site for the misuse of his power and the mistreatment and exploitation of artists on his team. He needs to apologize to you, the players of his game, the subscribers to his patreon, for allowing this to happen under his watch and under his word. You know you fucked up, hazer. You shouldn’t have sided with your friend without any actual evidence of misconduct. You shouldn’t have spoken about me like I was a toxic, subhuman hindrance to your art team. You shouldn’t have treated me like that. I didn’t deserve it. None of us did. You can apologize to me and the other lost artists publicly.

#moderneopets #virtu.pet #grundos cafe #neopets #neotag #modneo #moderneo

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outofmydepthatapublicbeach · 3 months

Text

comfort from the rain- Julien Baker x fem!reader

summary: Julien takes care of your after a bad day.

jj chats: this was originally gonna be a blurb but then it turned into an entire fic!! i really liked writing it though and i hope you guys like it too!! love y'all <;33

word count: 1100ish

warnings: RPF, undressing (not in a sexual way), kisses, hugs, no use of y/n, pet names used (honey, princess, baby).

feedback is encouraged and i'd love to get some just please be kind!!!

It was one of those days.

The sky had gotten increasingly dark as you walked from the bus stop to your apartment. Funny how after a long day those 2 blocks felt like 4 miles. Trudging through the sidewalk, hands in your pockets trying to keep warm. It was freezing this year, especially at night. The wind wouldn’t stop whipping into you, causing you to freeze even more. When you left in the morning it wasn’t even that cold, so you thought a sweater would suffice for the day. Forgotten was the memories of how cold it gets when the sun goes down. The trees had no leaves due to the coming of winter, the small patches of grass were dirt brown, and your shoes were covered in muddy slush. It seemed like wherever you looked you just saw negativity.

Your eyes felt heavy from your lack of sleep over the past few days. A co-worker was transferred and so all their leftovers went to you. You made the fatal mistake of trying to be helpful and ended up stuck in a trap, unable to refuse at risk your job, you accepted the later hours and more work. Regret filled your mind. You just wanted to get home.

Finally, your building came into view, only a little while longer until you were within the safe walls of your shared home. An abandoned apartment that you and your long-time girlfriend Julien had transformed into a home. You saw the green painted door and approached it fast, excited to finally be home, sweet, home. You tried the door handle, expecting it to open with ease since Julien was inside. Except it didn’t. It was locked. You sighed before taking your bag off and rifling through for your keys. You moved around a pack of gum, a half empty notebook, wallet, but you found no keys.

“Come on!” you whisper yelled to yourself, frustrated. And as if the little cloud controllers in the sky could hear you. Suddenly you felt droplets of rain plummet to the ground and hit your body. You had forgotten about the chances of rain today. Great. The rain was cold, soaking into your sweater as you now desperately tried searching for your key. But to no avail. The rain came down hard, it almost immediately drenched your clothes and hair.

Even on a good day it didn’t take much for you to cry, and with your horrible day the chances were up 100%. And with that rain, came your tears. You leaned against the door, starting to gently sob. It was a minute or two before you remembered that Julien was home, and you could have called her at any time and she would have come sprinting to the door to let you in. You quickly clicked on her contact, the call screen filling your phone.

“Hey baby! Are you almost home?” Julien asked, her voice like a rainbow after a storm.

“Yeah-” your voice cracked halfway through your attempt to communicate.

“Honey, are you okay? You sound like you’ve been crying,” Julien murmurs to the phone, of course she would already know how you're feeling.

“I forgot my keys this morning and I’m locked out and it's raining.” You say, tears still falling from your eyes, mascara running down your face.

“Oh baby, I’m almost at the door,” as soon as the sound of her voice travels from your phone to your ears the door is already open. You see Julien, bundled up in one of your sweatshirts and a pair of sweatpants, her hair soaked.

Julien immediately surged forward, hugging you tightly despite the downpour of rain and the fact your sweater is soggy. She steps back, following her form back into your home. You feel another wave hit you and you wrap your arms around your love, holding her for dear life.

About a minute passes by, Julien just holding you, rubbing your back through your clothes. She says “It’s okay baby, you’re home now.” You start to pull away from her, but your hand falls right into hers to which she squeezes it lightly: reassurance. “Let's get you all warm. Then we can go lay down and cuddle?” Her smile is warm, full of love.

Julien leads you into the laundry room. You sit on a bench as she bends down to unlace your boots, then she gently places them to the side. “Can I take off your sweater? I don’t want you to catch a cold.” She asks, hands placed on your sides. You hum a sound of approval and she continues, gently sliding it over your head and returning to you, clad in a pair of jeans and a bra. She moves to go hang up your sweater, an attempt to dry it out. You reach down to unbutton your jeans, the material tough, sliding them down your legs you feel a shiver. Julien turns back around and graciously takes your jeans from you, hanging them up alongside your sweater. You slip your socks off and leave them next to your boots.

“Wait right here,” Julien says, kissing you on the forehead before quickly running out the room. She’s back within 20 seconds, a fluffy towel, pair of sweatpants, and a hoodie in her arms. She hands the towel to you, and throws the clothes into the dryer, turning the heat to max.

“I’m sorry Jules,” you sigh, using the towel more to warm up than to dry off. The guilt of causing an inconvenience to Julien starts the flourish in your mind.

“Why are you sorry princess?” Julien asks, head tilting to the side. “You were doing something before I got home, I didn’t mean to throw a wrench in your plans.”

“You didn’t throw any wrench in any plans baby, I was waiting for you when you called. I’m sorry I left the door locked. I must have forgotten to unlock it after I got out of the shower.” She smiled, then opened the dryer, pulling out your clothes and handing them over to you. They were warm enough to melt your sadness, warm enough to remind you of the positive side.

“Thank you for this, it means a lot.” You confess to your girlfriend.

“Of course, I’m always here for you and I will do anything you need, anything you want.”

Quickly you threw on the clothes and then walked over to Julien, leaning in to meet in a chaste kiss. Pulling away you both smiled at each other. “I love you Jules,” You fall into another hug, “So much.” Your face, buried in her neck.

You could feel her smile in the crook of your neck, and then she sighed, then whispered “Love you, forever princess.”

#julien baker x reader #julien baker fanfic #julien baker fluff #boygenius x reader #lesbians #wlw #fluff #lgbtq #julien baker one shot #julien baker au

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yuuneeyart · 30 days

Text

Well it's been a while hasn't it? After everything that's gone on and my twitter suspension back in December, I've just decided to take a step back and focus on my personal life. Spending less time online, focusing on my job, that kinda boring shit that adults do.

But I have (slowly) and (only when I can) been working on shit. Mostly my Undertale creepypasta, UNDERTALE: The Garden. I'm sure some people remember that… but not many probably do. So I thought that since it's The Figure’s (formally Flower Child’s) birthday, I thought I'd show some stuff off.

art by me

So what is UNDERTALE: The Garden? Well.. UNDERTALE: The Garden is a story about an Undertale fan game that had been lost to time. The story focuses on the narrator finding an old and unfinished version of a fan game titled UNDERTALE: The Garden that had started its development fairly shortly after the original game’s demo had come out back in 2013. Created by an anonymous tumblr user who went by Tokumei, the game was originally meant to expand on the small amount of lore of the demo, adding more areas to the ruins, giving a new interpretation and backstory to the world, and much more. However the game went radio silent after a few years of development hell and Tokumei had not been seen since then.

Now years later, the narrator finds a gamejolt page with a familiar game on it. Excited to play it, they decided to discuss their findings on a tumblr blog. As well as archive any assets, information about development, and songs they can get their hands on. The narrator eventually finds out the game has much more to it than it was originally leading on…

art by me

There's a lot of things I have planned for the story that I don't wanna get into here (don't wanna spoil things before they come to light) but I've been working on making the actual world of The Garden much different than the original game. I've been taking an NES Godzilla approach for worldbuilding where the game just looks so vastly different from its original state using real life caves as well as Christian and Muslim imagery and cultures for inspiration for everything.

art by anonymous, pixel art by me and anonymous

But now the main attraction of the au, The Figure. She's definitely changed since you first met her 2 years ago. Instead of going to exes and helping them, she's now someone who simply wishes to be left alone. Staying in her world trying to make it as perfect as she sees it.

And now some trivia i guess for the funsies

She is not sentient, everything in the garden that happens is just a weird fangame. The whole idea of *The game is alive and REAL!!!* has become a cliche of the creepypasta community that I don’t wanna repeat

She has a canon voice now, which can be heard here

Her facial expression never changes

The monsters that get deformed are still alive. If they were to die, you would have seen a pile of dust

art by me

That's all I have for now though, hopefully this at least peaked interest for some. This isn't me making a grand return either, just thought I'd at least post something about a character I've cared about for the past 2 years since it was her 2 year anniversary. Anyways, imma go to bed, cheers.

#undertale #undertale exe #undertale au #undertale creepypasta #creepypasta #i dont tag shit often #undertale the garden #uttg #sans #toriel

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fluentmoviequoter · 1 month

Text

Driver’s Seat

Pairing: Dominique Luca x fem!reader

Summary: At a classic car show, you meet the only gentleman in attendance and bond over a mutual love for cars.

Warnings: fluff! 1.2k+ words

A/N: This is completely self-indulgent (it’s about me and my car) but I figured I could share it anyway. Happy daydreaming about Luca!😊

“Nice car.”

You bristle, prepared for some variant of nicer driver or bet you look good in it.

“What year? ‘76 or ‘77?”

At the continued discussion of the car, you turn. You’ve seen Dom Luca around car shows before, but haven’t had the chance or a reason to talk to him yet. His kind smile helps you relax and you offer a smile in return. Being a woman at a car show is like travelling back in time to when the cars were new; you’re treated differently here than anywhere else.

“1977,” you answer. “Good eye. You’re Dom Luca, right? You brought a gorgeous 1956 Buick Special a few months ago.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s me. Friends just call me Luca. I’m stuck with a ‘68 Charger this month. But your car is a beauty.”

“Thanks! I still have a ton of work to do before she’s finished, but I’m proud of everything I’ve managed to do.”

“You should be. Sorry, I didn’t ask your name.”

You smile as you extend your hand and say your name. Luca’s handshake is firm, and you appreciate the respect he shows you. It’s refreshing, and you’re glad your mental image of him from past shows holds up. He’s a gentlemen in a world where there aren’t many left.

“Any chance you have before pictures? I haven’t gotten my hands on a Nova yet but I know good work when I see it. Do it all yourself?”

You pull your phone from your pocket and navigate to your photo albums as you nod. “I did as much as I could. Had a lot of amazing people to help too.”

As you turn your phone to scroll through the before pictures, Luca moves to stand closer. His shoulder presses against yours, and you freeze momentarily before swiping to the next picture.

“Is that you?” Luca asks excitedly.

The picture of you smiling in the driver’s seat after the first test drive is one of your favorites. It was such a special moment, and having it immortalized in a photo is priceless. Luca’s attention, however, makes you a bit shy and you nod before swiping away quickly.

“There’s no shame in being excited. First drives are a special kind of rush,” he assures. “It’s a good picture, too.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“Everything original?”

You appreciate the change of subject, happier to focus on the car rather than its owner.

“Yeah, it is. Straight 6, automatic transmission, even the color is the same.”

“Now that takes real talent. Anyone can cover a classic in aftermarket parts, but original? That’s impressive.”

As you turn to face Luca, you realize how close he’s standing. Face-to-face, eye-to-eye, lip-to-lip… you know you should step back but you don’t want to. Luca smiles like he feels the same before his eyes drop to your phone.

“Care for another picture?” he asks. “It’s your first entry into a car show right?”

Someone whistles behind you and shatters the moment. Luca looks over your shoulder as he steps back. You can tell he wants to say something, but you shake your head. It’s always like this, you communicate with a shrug.

“Can I see the Charger you’re stuck with? Though I’d love to get my hands on a ‘69, so I don’t see it as the unfortunate situation you do,” you say with a smile.

Luca’s shoulders drop as he relaxes and steps to the side. He leads you down the row and around a booth at the end. The black Charger is beautiful, and your eyes widen as you walk the length of it.

“Luca,” you murmur. ��It’s perfect.”

Luca presses his lips together to hide his smile. He said his friends call him Luca, and it sounds right coming from your lips. After thanking you, Luca pops the trunk open and points to a nearly invisible metallic L welded to the side.

“For Luca?” you ask, once again standing directly at Luca’s side.

“My brother and I work on these cars together. We, uh, didn’t talk for a while, so now that we’re close again, we like putting something in every car.”

“That’s amazing. I- do you have one more minute to spare?”

“If you compliment the car again, maybe I’ll give you two.”

“The body work on this is impeccable. Better than original. Like always,” you compliment.

“Lead the way.”

You unlock the passenger door and open the glovebox of your car. A laminated piece of paper and a photo are in your hands, and you pass them to Luca.

“1987,” he reads. “You have an old title registration for this car? Do you know how rare that is? Was it in the car?”

“Look at the picture,” you answer.

“I take it back. The first drive photo isn’t your best.”

You chuckle at the idea that the photo he’s holding is your best. In it, you’re less than 10 years old, sitting in the driver’s seat like you belong, and it’s proof that you’ve loved this car for nearly your entire life.

“Took me a while to get started on it, but it was worth the wait,” you muse. “Most good things are.”

“So, when you came to shows before, were you looking for inspiration or people to hire?” Luca asks as he passes the papers back.

With the memories of your family’s history with the car secure in the glovebox, you return your attention to Luca.

“You’re different than I thought you’d be,” you say. His face drops, and you add, “I knew you’d be a gentleman, but I didn’t think you’d let me talk to your ear off about my car. And yours.”

“You’d be surprised how long I’d listen to you.”

You playfully roll your eyes before someone yells Luca’s name.

“What are you planning to do next?” Luca asks, pointing to your car.

“Dom!” the man repeats, louder.

“Do you need to go?” you ask.

“My brother,” Luca says. “He can wait. Tell me what’s next. Finish this one and call it good, or are you going to be around with more cars?”

“I’d love to restore another car. Actually, a truck. An old boxy one that needs the love, or a Harvester.”

“1950s Harvester is my dream project,” Luca agrees.

“Finding one that isn’t in a scrap heap seems…”

“Impossible,” you and Luca say together.

“If you ever get your hands on one, send me lots of pictures?” you request as Luca’s brother approaches.

“What if I ask for your help instead?” Luca suggests.

“Why me?”

Luca smiles like he knows something you don’t. He introduces you to his brother, Terry, and shakes your hand again before leaving to talk to a salesman. A paper is transferred to your palm during the shake, and when he’s gone, you look at it. Luca’s phone number accompanies a short message, and your smile grows until your cheeks hurt.

Talk my ear off before the next show? I’d love to learn more about the girl in the car.

When he had time to write this, you don’t know. But you do know your answer. You text Luca that you’d love that, and he turns to wink at you before asking the men around him if anyone knows of a Harvester still on the market.

#dominique luca x reader #hanna writes✯#dominique luca #luca x reader #swat x reader #swat cbs #fem!reader

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hellishjoel · 7 months

Note

hello, hi, kry here. i was wondering if mayhaps you would consider writing me a smutty little one-shot for either frankie or joel. it's my birthday tomorrow and i would love to read something by my fave writer on here. okie byeeee! love you <3

happy birthday, princess

2k // pairing: frankie morales x birthday girl!reader

summary: in an attempt to lift your spirits after having to work on your birthday, Frankie takes you to the beach to spend the evening together.

warnings: MA 18+ (minors DNI), frankie fucking morales, smut, swearing, pet names, fingering (f! receiving)

A/N: happiest of birthdays kry! this message made me tear up, I'm so lucky to have you as part of my community. happy 24th lovely <3 I hope you like the moldboard! frankie core for the one and only @joelmillers-whore

“You shouldn’t have to work on your birthday,” Frankie reasoned as he watched you weave through the bedroom while he sat out of the way on the bed. You were collecting your items before you left. “It should be illegal.”

His attempt at a light-hearted joke made you give him a weak, tight-lipped smile.

“I know.” You whisper, a certain sadness aching in your chest. The last thing you wanted to do on your special day was work. You had requested off, but management denied it for one reason or the other.

This was your first birthday with your boyfriend, Frankie. He seemed even more excited than you did. And all the more disappointed when you told him you wouldn’t be able to spend the day with him like you had originally planned.

“I’ll be home before you know it. Then we can do something together.” You try to put on your best face, gently cupping Frankie’s cheek as you angle his face upwards to face you. Your fingers brush against dark stubble, admiring his chocolate puppy dog eyes. You like the little wrinkles around his eyes.

Frankie sighed but ultimately nodded. He stood up from the bed, a hand locked on your hip. He tilted up his hat brim with his opposite hand and leaned down to press his lips against yours. Your stomach rushes with butterflies, letting his happiness consume you and jumpstarting your mood for the day.

“Okay, okay,” you murmur against his lips despite feeling his hands wander a bit to keep you close. You throw back your head and laugh as his lips sputter kisses down your cheek and neck, his hands feeling more like they were tickling you rather than holding you now. “Okay! Okay, I have to go.”

Frankie’s smile is still there, warm and tender, but he straightens up and loosens his hold on you.

“We’ll do something tonight. Promise.” He resolves with a tight nod, and you agree.

“Tonight.”

One more goodbye kiss, and you’re scurrying to your car, cursing Frankie for nearly making you late.

---

“What on Earth are you doing here?”

Your smile is wide as you exit the back door of your work to see Frankie in his vintage red Chevrolet Corvet.

“I thought you put the Corvet away since summer was over?” You asked excitedly, gently extending your fingers out to glide along the cherry paint.

Frankie merely shrugs, donning his casual aviators and baseball cap. He was wearing an old hoodie, seeing him squint behind his sunglasses.

“I did,�� Frankie lightly grunts as he reaches across the center console and unlocks your door, thrusting it open wide for you to slip in. “But today’s a special occasion. Now get in.” He grins.

It’s hard to conceal your smile as you throw your belongings in the back and settle into his passenger seat.

“But today,” you emphasize, “is almost over. And it’s October. Where exactly are we cruising to this late in the day?” You ask, observing the open section of the roof.

Frankie smirks as he hands you a blanket to cover your lap and pats your leg gently before readjusting his aviators. “Let’s ride, baby.”

---

The car drives along the coast, and he was right to give you a blanket. Despite getting warmer temperatures compared to the rest of the country, being by the water caught colder temperatures.

You watch as you wind down the rocky hills from above, eyeing the brilliant blue water as the sunset creates ripples of orange and purple across the soon navy sky. Your troubles of earlier today feel melted away. Frankie squeezes the hold he has on your hand.

After parking and finding a secluded spot on the beach, Frankie retrieved a cooler from the trunk and walked with you through the sandy landscape. It was beautiful, breathtaking, a bit chilly, but nothing you couldn’t handle. You secured the blanket around your shoulders, watching him pile a few logs together and start a little bonfire.

You playfully applauded, and Frankie bowed graciously at your praise.

“Thank you, thank you very much. I was a boy scout.”

Frankie wound down beside you, groaning softly before popping open the cooler. He offers you a drink, then finds a beer for himself. The fire blazes orange and sparks a few stray ashes into the air.

He feels you lean into his arm, wanting you even closer as he lifts it to wrap around your shoulders and snuggle you into his side.

He smells your shampoo and lingering perfume from this morning. He holds your hand over your lap and gently caresses his thumb along the extent of your palm. He shyly glances down, seeing your beautiful features highlighted by the flickering flames. You’re warm, body and soul. You bring Frankie a sense of ease and comfort. A place to call home, a reason to put his guard down.

“Wait, what’s this?” Frankie asks as he burrows through his cooler, pulling out supplies for smore’s.

You giggle and enthusiastically reach for the chocolate, humming as you bust open the plastic packaging while Frankie opens the rest of the supplies.

The two of you hunt for sticks, ones long enough to roast marshmallows.

“Oh, babe, this one is fuckin’ perfect, look.”

You giggle that he’s so excited. “You’re a champ, that’s a beautiful stick, baby.”

He aids you in clamping squared-off graham crackers and a pad of chocolate around your golden brown marshmallow, cooing in excitement as he hands you the finished masterpiece that was your s’more.

The two of you toast and casually discuss what’s next for you and what this new year of yours will bring. He thinks of good luck, safety, and love.

You stay for as long as you can, but it is October, and it is especially chilly by the water. But this night meant so much for you, especially to have Frankie go out of his way and drive miles and miles out of town to take you to the water, where you felt the most free and liberated.

Frankie smothers the fire with his boot, and you make your trek back up to the car. He tells you to wait in the car with your blanket while he loads everything else, to which you don’t fight him. He secures the roof over the car and smiles at your playful chattering teeth.

He can’t stop thinking about warming you up. He tries to distract himself the rest of the ride by singing to music with you or letting you tell him about your day, but he can’t stop thinking about your body, the warmth he could bring just with his hand alone.

“Frankie?” You ask cautiously, clasping his hand that was now clamped onto your thigh. “What’s going on in that big brain of yours, huh?”

He takes in a deep breath through his nostrils and turns to you, puppy dog eyes, desperate for something. But what?

“You cold?” He asks, to which your eyebrows furrow.

“Well, yeah.” You finally whisper, feeling his hands snake higher to the button on your jeans. You weren’t exactly easy to access right now, but god, you wish you were.

“Push’em down, baby. Put the blanket over you.”

His voice is authoritative enough that you listen. You push down your jeans past your thighs, securing the blanket over yourself in case any wandering eyes from passing cars caught Frankie’s hand down your pants.

Your stomach twists as he slips past the blanket. You whimper, his hand is only slightly cold as you shakily breathe through it, looking forward.

“That’s it, princess, keep lookin’ at the road.” He hums. He’s got one hand tight on the steering wheel, the other coasting down the front of your panties. Somehow, he’s more focused now that he’s able to take care of what he’s been thinking about.

Your hand tightens around his wrist and urge him on, causing a playful laugh out of him. “So fuckin’ pretty when you need me, princess.”

God, he would be the death of you.

Frankie’s fingers work over your panties, tracing your seam before he nudges the underwear in his way aside. You bite down on your lower lip and look over at him. How fucking handsome he was, how lucky you were to have him as yours. How he thought the same for you.

His eyes catch yours, and you hastily nod. He turns back to the road and slowly coats his fingers with your slick, moaning quietly as your eyes flutter in bliss. He does a tight circle around your clit before moving downwards to your entrance. It’s like he’s mapping the well-known terrain, finding what’s making you tick tonight.

“Had such a long day at work today, Frankie, please. Take care of me.” You whisper.

Hearing you beg isn’t Frankie’s goal. It’s your birthday, and he would do just about anything you asked right about now. You had him wrapped around your pretty little finger, that was for sure.

You were soaked, begging for release, begging for Frankie to take care of you. He promised he always would. You were his girl. He couldn’t take not being inside you, but his fingers would suffice until the two of you were home.

Frankie listens to your symphony of whimpers as his first two fingers notch into your entrance, feeling you shift in your seat and spread your legs wider under the protection of the blanket to allow him full access to your sex. He sinks them deeper, and the stretch is intense but pleasurable.

You whimper his name, and it’s his kryptonite. “C’mon, baby, lemme hear how good it feels.”

His fingers bury themselves in you, knuckles brushing your sweet folds as his fingers curl.

You throw your head back in satisfaction, jaw dropped, eyes wide as he hits a certain nerve inside you, one that is screaming to be touched.

“Fuck,” you breathily exert, your breasts distracting Frankie as you arch your back lightly in your seat. “Feels like heaven, Frankie, oh shit,” you cry out, making him smirk.

If he wasn’t fucking driving right now, he’d take you in his arms, spread your legs, and bury himself between your thighs for days, needing nothing more than the taste of your cum on his tongue.

But he was driving, and you were beside him, falling into his bicep and cradling your face into his arm for protection.

“That’s it, baby, feel how good those fucking fingers feel inside you?”

You can barely push up an answer, just a weak nod as you still clamp your hand tightly around his wrist.

Frankie starts a decent rhythm with his fingers, in and out, curling and massaging the sensitive walls that love whatever he’s doing. A coil starts to wind inside you, begging for release. Your legs begin to shake and twitch, moaning his name softly as he continues to make you feel good.

“M’not gonna last much longer- fuck,” you force out breathily, arching your back and falling into Frankie’s arm as your head lays lifelessly on his shoulder. You can feel his smirk pressed to the crown of your head.

“Can feel you tensing around me, princess, let go.”

You whimper, but his words push you over the edge. It feels like scrabbling at the end of a cliff, damn near falling, feeling your orgasm crash through you helplessly. Frankie’s foot lays heavy on the pedal as you squeeze desperately around his fingers, feeling him continue his pace until you’ve leaked all the cum you can onto his fingers. He barely even touched your clit, and you were folding for him.

You’re breathless, weakly moaning and whispering his name and other profanities mixed in there, too.

“Jesus Christ,” you say once you’ve pushed yourself back into your seat, and he’s pulled his fingers from you.

“I prefer Frankie.” He teases.

He locks eyes with you as he does a long lick up his first two digits, properly licking them clean. It makes another intense coil twist inside you.

“Don’t worry. You can have everything else once we get home. To properly celebrate your birthday.”

You shyly smile and nod, pulling his hand into your lap and squeezing it tightly.

“I don’t even care that I had to work today. At least I get to spend tonight with you.”

Frankie quips up a smile and squeezes your hand under the blanket. “I’m the lucky one. Happy birthday, princess.”

---

happy 24th birthday, kry! thank you for such a kind message. I know you had to work today, but I hope you have a great year filled with lots of love, great friendships, and kindness <3

#joelmillers-whore #happy birthday!#frankie morales #frankie morales smut

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jaketsparrow · 8 months

Text

Tending (Part Two!)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f! reader

Word Count: 9.2K

Preview: Communication is hard, trying to convince Jake to be yours? Even harder. He’s bringing you further into his mysterious world, leaving you on the edge for more. Sneaky encounters, waiting games, and surprises come your way.

A/N: I’m so happy that all of you lovely people enjoyed the first part. I wasn’t sure originally if it was worth writing part 2, but I hope you like where I take the story!

MINORS DNI

MENTIONS OF/ TW: Oral (m/f!) receiving, dirty talk, name-calling, p in v sex, teasing/edging, explicit sexual content, *some* impact play, dom/sub, mature themes, unprotected sex, fingering (f! receiving), language, choking, safe words, public-ish activities… Yet again, it's filthy (IMO). Sorry if I missed anything!

Tending Part 1

Jake’s hands feel too good over your body. They feel even better when you’re in a place where you know he shouldn’t be touching you like this. He smells so good this close; he has a fresh scent of cinnamon trying to cover the musk of his work clothes. You can’t tell how long your face has been attached to his, probably only a little longer than a minute, but it felt like forever.

His hands are pulling on your hair, not in a hurtful way, but just enough to send tingles through your body. Your hands are in his shirt, embracing him, trying to get as close to him as humanly possible. You can feel the excitement growing in his pants, pressing up against you.

He pulls away slowly, pulling your lip with his teeth as he does, slowly releasing you from his grasp. You let out a soft whimper of enjoyment. He’s taking you further into his world and you’re ready to chase him through it.

“Hold on a sec,” he says, pulling you backward with him until his back is pressed against the office door. He reaches behind himself to turn the lock. “Can’t have anyone see the filthy shit my little slut is about to do.”

Ugh. Who would have thought being called filthy slut would make you buckle. Clearly, he knew and was waiting for you to take claim to your new name. You laugh softly, running your hands around his body, looking down at his cock bulging out of his pants. You know what he wants you to do, but you also know he enjoys this bratty little persona you’re taking to.

“Hmmm, and what am I going to do?”

He pulls the hand that was sitting on the knob towards your hip, gripping you tightly, adding to the already forming collection of love marks he’s left on you.

“You seriously didn’t think you were gonna get away with all of this behavior without making me feel better, did you?” He asks, staring down at you. The dominance was in full effect now.

“Oh sir, of course not,” you reply, “I just wanted to hear you ask for it…”

He laughs. His free hand moves up to your neck and holds it firmly. You try to take in a deep breath of air before he’s fully wrapped around you. He shakes you softly, “I don’t beg baby,” He releases his grip from your neck and you take in as much air as you can, gasping at the air. “On your knees for me… Now.”

You follow his command and lower yourself onto the floor. Planting your eyeline directly in front of his cock. You reach your hand up to it, running your hands over his jeans, feeling the mass that sits just behind his zipper. You take your other hand to relieve him of his pants, but he grabs your wrist.

“Beg for it.” He states, looking down at you with demanding eyes.

“What?”

“Beg for my cock… You want it don’t you?” You look at him perplexed for a moment, confused thinking that he was the one that wanted this. But then you remember the games you have to play. “Color?” He asks, concerned after reading your face.

“Just like a stoplight, okay baby?” You think you know what he means, but he still explains it to you, “Red means stop, yellow means you want to slow down or you want time, and green…”

You collect yourself and pull back into your role, “Green.” He smiles back at you and gestures his hand out for you to continue. “Please sir, please let me suck your cock. I promise I’m going to make you so happy... Please, please I need it. I need to make you feel good… I’m so sorry for being a bad girl,”

“That's right, you were a bad girl,” He’s running his fingers through your hair, showing you brief comfort before the chaos comes, “So you’re gonna suck my cock real good and think about what you’ve done, okay?”

You nod your head and proceed with your mission. He takes the hand he was holding and guides it to the buckle of his belt. You unbuckle it and pull it off the loops, tossing it to the side, jingling on its way to the floor.

Your moves are slow, calculated, and bordering on teasing. He’s watching you closely, making sure you do exactly everything he needs. You unbutton his jeans, and slowly slide down the zipper, causing him to almost completely jump out of his jeans.

You slowly move your hands over his bulge, teasing him, edging him, probably driving him fucking mad. You take both of your hands and rest your fingers underneath the waistband of his boxer briefs. You look up to him for approval, and he nods back at you. You have to use some force to pull them down, slowly revealing him further. He has this amazing happy trail that is obviously well groomed, teasing you down to the start of his shaft. Finally, you unveil his cock and it looks just as fucking beautiful as it did the previous night.

You wrap your hand around him firmly, feeling his soft skin and the pounding erection he carries. He’s already starting to drip pre-cum, and you know your teasing is already speeding up the timeline. You open your mouth and let him enter you, trying not to take him all in at once; not that you could ever do that on your own anyways. You glide his cock in and out of your wet smooth mouth, and he lets soft quiet moans escape his lips.

You can get a better look at him as you’re playing this slow angle. His eyes are closed in pleasurable agony. He slides his hands up to move his hair out of his face and looks back down on you with that sexy fucking smirk. He’s caught you now.

“Oh,” He moans, reaching a free hand to grab a patch of your hair, “You think you’re in control, huh?

Fuck.

He pulls you closer to his body, sending the full mass into the back of your throat, fully gagging on him. He holds you there for a moment, letting you feel all of him in you. He pulls you back out, leaving a pool of spit around your mouth. He is objectifying you, letting you know that you are his toy for pleasure.

“I’m still in control,” He states, “Don’t think you can outsmart me, baby.”

You’re only able to muster out a soft ‘please’ before he places himself back in your mouth. He’s rougher with you than last night, because now he knows you really want this, this version of him. He does have all the control and you want him to have it. He’s using his force to push you as far as you can take him. You brace yourself, holding onto the backs of his thighs.

At first, you try to hold back the gagging noises that are coming out, but he keeps pushing your head further, signaling he wants to hear them.

Just like last night, he wants to hear your struggle. Although, you’re not entirely struggling, because feeling him is so fucking invigorating. Hearing him moan through your hard work is a praise of its own.

“Fuck baby,” He whines, “My little whores taking good care of me, huh? She must feel really sorry for how rude she was acting, huh?

He pulls you away for a moment to look at you, expecting a response, “Yes sir,”

“Good girl.”

He places you back onto him, this time, less forcefully, letting you take back some of your breath. You take your hand around him to help your aching throat and try to prevent him from shoving you further. Sliding and swirling your fingers around his wet cock. He exhales loudly, trying to prevent himself from the pornographic sounds he wishes he could make. You steady your speed and prepare yourself for his finish.

“Oh fuck,” He moans between hushed breaths, “Fuck baby I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum…”

Seconds later, he's filling your mouth with his sweet warm cum. You try your best to brace yourself from any sort of gagging and swallow immediately. You do a slow few soft pumps to ease him out of orgasm, sending him into an overstimulating shock. You pull yourself away from him and look up at him. His eyes are closed, his mouth barely hanging open, trying to compose himself.

“Where the fuck are they?” You hear Chris yell from the dining room.

“Fuck,” You say, knowing you’re already on thin ice with Chris from this morning. You reach over to Jake’s belt and pass it to him as he's quickly trying to shove his already sensitive member back into his pants.

“Why the fuck! Is this door? Locked?!” Chris shrieks, banging on the door.

Jake finishes the latch on his belt and unlocks the door. You wipe your mouth with your arm and hide it behind your back. Jake opens the door.

“Hey man, chill out,” Jake coos to your already heated manager.

“Fucking chill out?” He seethes, and points to you “This one was already late this morning, and on fucking the verge of being fired, what the fuck is going on?”

“Listen,” Jake turns to stand in front of you, protecting you from the line of fire Chris is throwing, “I told her at the bar she wouldn’t have to tip me out any extra for coming in, and she was fighting me on that, so I tried to come back here to talk to her about it. I didn’t want our finances to be talked about in the bar,”

“There’s one fucking table out there? Are you really concerned that they’re listening so closely to your fucking wages?!” Chris barks back.

“Look, just trying to be a nice guy, okay? She didn’t want to come chat, so I pulled her back here. Check the tapes. It’s not her fault.”

“Fine, fucking whatever! You better not be doing fucking coke in my office!”

“It’s three in the afternoon,” You chime in, “Why would we be doing coke in your office?”

“Jesus, I don’t know, you’re acting like you did something. Just fucking get back out there!” He says.

Jake leads the way past Chris and you follow behind him, waiting to be out of earshot before you giggle. Jake slows his stride to walk beside you in the hallway, “Talk about a close finish huh?” He jokes.

You blush looking back at him. You can tell the rush of the situation probably turned him on all over again. He’s smiling that same devious smile he did yesterday. He loves the trouble we make together.

➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-

Friday comes along slowly. Waiting for your next chance to see him or talk to him proved to be the worst way to pass the time. You realized you had to relax with any sort of obsession forming over him; clearly, it was something he wasn’t ready for. Plus, he’s right, this chase is extremely intoxicating. You don’t want to assume you’re his only pursuit, but your heart skips thinking about him wanting you.

It feels like middle school all over again. He’s your classroom crush who you hope you get paired up with, or who will sit next to you on the school bus on your field trip. Catching goofy glances across biology class. Waiting for him to ask you to be project partners, too scared to ask out of fear of rejection. Texting back and forth, but always waiting long enough that you wouldn’t seem desperate. That fear of crushing still sitting inside you from over a decade ago prevented you from texting him first.

The shift went completely normal after that. Jake would shoot you quick smirks when you picked up your drinks, and he even made a special one just for you that sat in front of your usual seat. He made sure not to touch that nearly empty whiskey you had drank with him, instead it was something light & fruity, but you couldn’t quite tell what it was. After a few quick sips between picking up orders, you finally asked him.

“Oh, it's called a…” He leaned in close to tell you this, “I’m sorry for disappointing you,”

You lean back to take another sip, “Oh yeah, I can definitely sense some notes of apology in here,”

He laughs and shoos you from the bar. “C’mon, you can drink your ‘apologies’ later,”

You made out pretty good that night. The regulars said you had a different energy than usual. Hmmm, wonder why they would say that…

Six o’clock came around much faster than you would have liked. Jake was finishing up his orders and cleaning glasses. Your hangover was finally out of your brain, and you could get home to decompress after the wild past 24 hours. You walk into the back hallway and knock on Chris’ door.

You approach his desk, “Hey Chris,” You say sheepishly.

“What?” He says, not even returning a look.

“I’m sorry for today, I promise it won't happen again. You know I’m usually not like this,”

“Yeah I know, Jake told me you had car troubles last night and you were trying to get help this morning.”

“Huh?”

Chris looks up at you, “Don’t worry about it, it happens, just make sure to call next time.”

You nod your head and walk out the back door. It’s already dark out and a cool breeze swishes past the door. You brace yourself for the chill. You look up from your huddle to see Jake leaning over your car door, arms crossed waiting for you. How fucking cliché. He smiles when he notices you.

“Yeah, so your car should be all good by now, right?” He asks, patting the hood with certainty.

“Jake,” You walk up to him, arms crossed, slightly on defense, “I can handle my own, okay?”

“I know,” He grabs your arms and rubs them, a smile procuring on his face, “But wasn’t it so much better when I handled it?”

You scoff. His confidence is a special kind. “Maybe,” You admit.

He steps back to open your car door and waves you in, “Your chariot awaits sunshine,”

You drop your arms and walk around him to get into the driver's seat. “Thank you… Sir,” He hangs his arm over the frame of the door, not saying anything, but just surveying you.

“You’re gonna regret teasing me some day,” Jake closes the door and smirks at you. He turns away and walks towards the convertible, pulling his hair back into a low-hanging bun. You watch him for a moment, intrigued by his swagger.

He opens the car door and slides himself into the driver’s seat. He pulls a polarized pair of sunglasses from the dash and gently slides them onto his face. He doesn’t even look at you as he peels out of the employee lot. Riding away like some fucking modern-day mysterious prince charming.

The afternoon hits and the absolute boredom is starting to kick in. When you’re not working, you usually love to be alone in your cute cave of an apartment. It’s littered with plants and colorful knick-knacks that you’ve collected from thrift shops over the years. You used to spend hours counting all the swirls on the kitchen tile, or sitting looking out the window watching the cars go by. Now you’re plagued with desire. Your brain is filled to the brim with the filth of Jake and his filthy little games, and how you're his filthy little… Fuck.

You’re tempted to treat yourself to some afternoon fun but are apprehensive after knowing what his face feels like up against your pussy.

He's exploring you with his tongue, eager to lick every inch of you. You let out a wild gasping moan. He’s better than you’d imagined.

You don’t want to forget all of these little moments, but they really are starting to interfere with your functioning. You pull yourself from the couch and decide that a shower really is in order at this point. You’ve been far too exhausted from all the excitement, and truly out of it to take care of yourself the way you should be.

You tiptoe your way into the bathroom and start the shower. Undressing yourself piece by piece until you're standing nude, waiting for the steam to fill up the room. When the water finally reaches the preferred scalding temperature, you step in.

It always felt so good to be clean. Showers are a weird new start, washing away the gross and allowing new touches, new scents, and new fabrics to hold you. Except this shower wouldn’t be washing away some of the touches left behind. You look down to your hip to find light finger-shaped bruises imprinted on you. Memories of Jake.

He releases his hold from your neck so he can use both of his hands to force you closer to him. His hands forming bruising holds on your hips.

You run your hands over the bruises and silently praise that they were given to you. You soak your body entirely in the heat of the water, lathering yourself with lavender soap. You won’t be able to wash away the torment of waiting, but you will definitely try. You move on to your hair, running your fingers through it, pushing the lather deep into your scalp.

He’s comforting you with his control. His hair becomes entwined further in your fingers, being pulled by your tight fist.

The memory washes over you, loosening the suds from your own hair. When you finally clear your head, you pull yourself out from the stream of water and shut off the faucet. Stepping onto the cold tile is once again sobering. You wrap your steaming skin in your robe to try and hold the heat in. This is always the worst part about showering.

You open the bathroom door and walk out into the crisp apartment air. You opt out of immediately changing into pajamas and walk to the couch.

He uses his free hand to press down on the back of your head, and your face into the cloth couch; bracing himself for a deeper pounding.

These impure thoughts are going to be the death of you.

You relax onto the couch where he once sat and sprawl out, trying to get comfortable. You pull out the remote from the crevice between the arm and cushion and put on shitty trash TV. This ought to be the remedy. Mind-numbing reality entertainment. Watching other people seduce their crushes, making stupid mistakes, creating their own drama. It's really invigorating shit. But it all ends up being the same after you’ve seen so many. This person sleeps with that person and this person feels left out, this person is kicked off; it all repeats. It's all manufactured.

After a few episodes, the mind-numbing really starts to kick in, you’re invested in that repeating plot, feeling like you’re living in a similar time as these stars. But no matter how hard you try to fight it, it becomes so mind-numbing that you find yourself sitting deeper and deeper on the couch. Soon the blanket that sits on the top of the couch is falling over your body, beckoning the nap you so desperately need. Your eyelids get heavier and heavier, and you no longer can even hear what's happening on the TV, until you're finally… Out.

When you wake up, it's already dark out. The TV is paused, begging you to answer if you’re still watching. You sit up, easing out of your groggy sleepy state. You look around in a state of confusion and disturbance, unsure what time it is and how long you were out.

Your eyes survey the room and land on the bar cart, the bottle of whiskey sitting open still. Shit. You stand up slowly, gaining your balance, and stiffening your muscles. You walk over to the cart and forcefully twist the lid back in the bottle, letting your hand hold on.

He releases the amber liquid into your mouth, warm from its hold. He’s so fucking…

You have to stop lingering on these moments and actually do something about it. Maybe it's the euphoric half-asleep half-awake state you’re in, but suddenly you come into a state of brave clarity. It was the long waiting game that prevented anything from happening sooner in the first place between Jake and you. You idiot!

You go to your bedroom to pull your phone from the charger. You’d hid it in there earlier to try and prevent yourself from doing this very thing, but you were an idiot then and now you see so clearly that…

Messages (1)

Oh?

Jake: I hope you haven't forgotten about me yet sunshine

Fuck no you haven’t forgotten! Wait. Shit, here comes that middle school trauma again. What do you say back?

How could I? You told me to never forget

You have no idea where this will steer the conversation, but you hope for hot filthy Jake sexts.

Five minutes go by with no response yet, so you walk out of your room again, hoping that ungluing your eyes from the text log will elicit some sort of response. You sit at the kitchen table, nursing the puzzle you took out last night- in another failed attempt to distract yourself. Each piece is waiting for its perfect spot, to feel connected to the rest of itself, fitting perfectly inside each other…

The noises that your bodies make when they smack together is fucking filthy. Your cunt is tightening around his mass, unable to bear his pounding.

Ding!

It's like he can fucking sense you. You jump out of the chair so fast you nearly knock it over, running back into the bedroom; jumping over the bed to reach your phone.

Jake: Oh righttt

Oh my god. Please say something else. How do you even answer that?

Jake: I've been thinking a lot about you today. Can’t get the image out of my head of your pretty little face taking my cock

Oh fuck. Your heart is pounding, hands sweating, and everything in you just dropped. That sensation he gives you… Utter magic. Butterflies are growing deep inside you; not in your heart though…

I can still feel the bruises in my throat from taking your cock Jake: Poor little slut. Can’t take me like you want to? Oh I can take you sir, but I prefer when you make me

Jake: You better not be asking for things you can’t handle I know I can handle it Jake: Yeah? Jake: You like it when I fuck you like the dirty slut you are?

Oh yes, you do. You don’t know where this side of you is coming from, this bratty, needing side of you. You had never picked Jake to have this side to him either, but I guess you bring it out in each other.

I want you here, right now, fucking me.

Jeez, that was desperate. Your fingers typed it out and sent it before you could realize what you were even saying. You drop your head into the comforter and let out an annoyed grumble. Now you were really being an idiot. You have to remember the chase, the fun of it all, the teasing and waiting was what he clearly wanted.

You lift your head to look back at your phone, but no response yet. His speediness has subsided. You start to type again, trying to formulate a sentence to undo the previous, but it’s already out there, into the fucking ether of the conversation. You pull back, delete the half-written sentence, and return your head to the despairing position on the comforter. Sighing, you lift yourself back up moments later and crawl slowly to hide under the sheets.

The blank homepage of your phone illuminates your cocoon. You flash one last look at the screen before finally putting it down. You sit like this for a few minutes, reflecting under the covers. How much do you really like Jake? Do you only want this chase, or is there more of him that you also want to experience? It's time to either pull yourself back in or decide to be brave and keep the pursuit.

Messages (0)

No one tells you how hard it is to control yourself when you feel like absolutely falling in love. This new age of mystery and hookups has always left you feeling strange. Not that falling in love is completely out of the question with Jake, but that's something he’s clearly not ready to jump into… Yet.

You resolve yourself yet again to distraction. Pulling your phone out to scour social media while you wait. Twenty minutes of scrolling goes by painfully slow

Ding!

Jake: Sorry to tease you, but something came up.

Guess you were too quick to give up hope on the situation.

Jake: Look outside

You cautiously unfurl yourself from your cocoon and step over to the window. You move the curtains aside and peer through the glass. Your phone starts buzzing in your hand, and you lift it to see Jake’s name flashing across the screen. You slide to answer the call and bring the phone to your ear.

“Hello Sunshine,” The velvety voice sounds just as nice through the phone as it does in person. “Look down.”

You crane your neck to look down in the parking lot. There he fucking was. Jake was standing on the sidewalk in front of his car, smiling and looking up at you. He was wearing light-wash denim jeans and another flowy shirt, this time buttoned further than the night he played.

“Oh, hi stalker,”

“Hey, weren’t you the one asking me to come fuck you? I believe your exact words were I need you here right now, fucking me.”

“I didn’t think you would actually come!” You say, embarrassed and ashamed for being so upset about the situation earlier.

“Well, I can’t stay for long, but will you come let me in?”

“Oh shit, yes. Uhh,” You look down at your barely tied robe, realizing there's no way you can sneak out into the hallway like this, “Just give me a minute.”

You hang up and immediately rush over to your dresser. Quickly pulling out the first shirt and cute pajama pants you can find, not even worried about putting anything on underneath them. It was best to not keep him waiting. You turn to look at the state of your room, It’s really not that bad, but you try your best to grab items and hide them in your closet on your way out.

You run out to the apartment hallway, past the kitchen, backtracking to throw away the food wrappers you lazily left out earlier. Finally tidy enough to go let him in.

You step into your slippers and run out as fast as you can, trying to make up for lost time by galavanting through the halls. You slow yourself as you reach the glass door separating you two. Jake already made it up the stairs to the front landing.

He’s standing looking into the parking lot, back faced against the windows adjacent to the door. You creep up to the door, slowly pushing on the latch, creaking it open just enough that he notices you’ve arrived.

“Oh no,” You play at him,, “I’m sorry I’m already waiting on another gentleman caller, you’ll have to come back tomorrow!”

He turns and laughs at you, pulling the door fully open, nearly knocking your grip.

“Oh, I bet I can make you forget about this other gentleman,” He leans in close to you, his soft hair falling on the edges of your face, tickling your skin, “You won’t even remember who he is after I’m done with you,”

Your attempts to play with him always end up with him back in control. He’s left you stunned again, and you can’t say anything, instead settling on a bashful giggle. He puts his hand on your hip and ushers you into the building.

“Well, I can’t just have us standing here all night sunshine,”

You come out of your frozen state and begin the walk to your apartment. He follows you, walking behind at a cool slow pace. You feel awkward being watched and turn to see if he’s looking at you. He is, but more so at your ass than you. He reaches his hand outward and thwaps your right cheek.

“Oh!” You exclaim, putting a jump in your step.

“Sorry sweetheart, I like what I see.”

“Yes, I’m sure my ratty old PJs are very sexy,” You reply.

He laughs, “I see you already want to be bratty with me, huh?”

You reach the door to your apartment, no need to fumble with the lock this time. You push the slightly ajar door and let him back into your space. “Hard not to be so bratty when you left me alone for so long.” You make your way through the apartment, heading in the direction of the bedroom.

“Oh don’t worry. If you’re a good girl for me, I’ll make it up to you,”

You walk through the door frame of your bedroom, turning and stopping him at the entrance. His body language exudes sex. There's no other way to describe it. He has this magical god-like sex appeal that you crave.

“Yeah? How so?” You cross your arms and pout.

He steps forward closer to you, putting his hand around your waist, and grabbing you into an embrace. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

“Do you really doubt how well I can take care of you?” He asks.

You seriously don’t, but egging him on in this situation is more fun than submitting immediately to him. His body is so warm against yours, so inviting. You reach your hand across his waist, mirroring his touches. He reaches his hand up your back, creeping to that exact spot you want him to be. He slides into your scalp, grabbing a fistful of your hair; tightly pulling the locks behind you.

“I said do you really…” Jake pulls harder, “Doubt how well I can take care of you?”

Words, give him the words. “No!” He pulls hard at your head causing your statement to come out in a yelp rather than an answer.

“That's right. My little slut loves it when I take care of her, huh?”

“Yes,” You reply, finally remembering a lack of response elicits punishment.

“Good girl,” He releases his grip from your scalp and soothes it with a light rub. He looks down at you with this almost menacing look, or maybe it's just pure lust. He takes the hand from your head, moves it back down to your hip, and uses it to guide you; turning you around to face the bed. He rests his head down on your shoulder, his hair tickling your neck.

The wanting and needing of him manifesting inside of you is finally boiling over. Your heartbeat is racing, jumping into your throat, your body exuding excited tingles, and your pussy… is already prepared for him.

You close your eyes amidst this euphoric feeling. Letting your other senses take complete control. Jake runs his hands over the front of you, pulling at your shirt, sneaking upwards to clutch your unhidden breast. The other hand reaches down the front of your pants, feeling no barrier between his calloused hands and your cunt. You let out a soft giggle with excitement.

Feeling him touch you like this really is better than your imagination. You slowly open your eyes to peer at him, seeing his enthusiastic smirk growing.

He turns to look back at you, his smirk turning into a full smile, “Whore,” He whispers.

You try to seem offended by it, but really there's no hope in being unexcited about his degradation. He can feel how wet you get when he calls you that. Before anything starts, he pulls his hands away from where you want them, and places them back on your hips, “Get on the bed.” He commands.

You obey Jake's wishes and try your best to sexily climb on top of the bed, expecting him to be right behind you. You flip over onto your back and find that he’s still standing in the same place in the doorframe; arms crossed, looking at you.

“Aren’t you coming?” You ask, confused.

“No,” he states, “I’m going to watch.”

“Watch… Me?”

“I told you there would be a punishment for all that teasing,” He grunts.

You blush, embarrassed.

“I want you to play with that pretty little cunt for me. And, if your good,” He takes a step forward, “and beg for me,” Another step forward, “I’ll show you how much better I feel than playing with yourself,”

Everything in your body is frozen. Play with yourself in front of him? You’ve never been self-conscious of how you touch yourself, but then again, no one but you has witnessed it. You gulp down your fear and begin to undress yourself, maintaining eye contact with Jake as you reveal yourself to him. Slowly, you lift the clothes off your body, taking your time; trying to tease him and slow your heart rate. You kick off the last part of your pants and slide yourself back onto the bed, resting the back of your head on the frame.

Jake takes a seat at the end of the bed, propping himself up by placing his hand inches from your ankle. You wish he was closer, actually touching you, but you have to play the game. You know the rules.

You lift your legs into a bent shape, spreading yourself so he can have the perfect view. The room is silent and you feel exposed to him entirely. The thrill of him having you is the only thing keeping you from entirely combusting fear.

You place two fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue around them, being sure to saturate them entirely. You suckle on them for a moment, then lead them down to your heat and lightly begin to touch yourself. You specifically did not want to take the lead on pleasuring yourself. You spent all day avoiding this, trying to hold out for Jake, wishing he could be the one to break the celibacy. Instead here he was inches away, tormenting you with your own touch, making it hard to enjoy the feeling. All you wanted was his hands on you, not your own.

You run your fingers through the bundle of nerves, trying not to move too quickly. Jake maintains eye contact with you, unbreaking until he hears your breathing start to hitch. His eyes move down your body, tracing you with his gaze. You look down at his cock, watching it stiffen in his pants.

“Do you like touching yourself?” He asks, trying to remain composed.

You do. It feels good to please yourself after waiting all day. Running your fingers around the sensitive spots, mixing techniques of his and yours. Saying yes wouldn’t be the right response to Jake though, “I like it better when it's you down there.”

You can feel your body slowly giving in to the pleasure, relaxing itself, allowing the personal touches to feel euphoric.

He looks back up to meet your eyes, “Oh, it looks like you’re doing just fine without me,” He scoffs at you.

“No!” You exclaim, “Jake- Sir, please, please. I need you. You know I need you.”

You continue swirling your hands around your dripping cunt. Trying to hold back too much excitement and prevent any sort of overstimulation this early.

“You’re not convincing me yet baby,”

“Please!” You feel yourself building, heat directing itself to your pussy, growing feverish and wanting him to take over, “Please sir. I’ve been needing you all day… Thinking about you…” Talking is starting to get harder. You close your eyes to try and focus yourself, “Thinking about you take my-”

Before you can even finish your sentence your legs are being pulled forward to the edge of the bed. Your ass just barely resting on the mattress, and your legs bent. You try to sit yourself up to look at Jake. He lifts his face into your cunt and dives into the slick mess you’ve made.

You place your hand on his head to stabilize yourself from the fucking devious moves he’s making on you. His tongue flicks up your already shaking pussy, devouring you, hungering for your release. He sounds absolutely desperate, moaning just as much as you, enjoying your taste and the noises his work procures.

Before you can even adjust to the sensations, he slips a finger into you, teasing you to go further. He didn’t want to wait much longer to do this; he didn’t want to resist the pleasure he could give you. He lifts his free arm to hold your thigh, squeezing it against his face.

Your body is in blissful distress, unable to focus on just one of the sensations; taking it all in at once, feeling the build of your orgasm. Your head falls back, and your eyes close, feeling every motion of him breaching you. A loud, exasperated moan escapes your lips. No inhibitions are holding you when he’s between your legs.

Before he can even ask for you to beg, you give him exactly what he wants.

“Jake, please! Please, please! Sir, please, let me come! I wanna-,”

He pumps an increasing pressure to your g-spot and laps over your aching clit, pulling you headfirst into an orgasm. You move your hands backward, clutching the sheets in an attempt to hold yourself together. A wave of relief washes over you as you spill out in front of him, feeling yourself soaking the sheets below you. Your legs shake, releasing the tension that you hung onto for so long. Jake’s sure to take in all of you, tasting you, exploring you.

He lifts his head, “I could taste this all fucking night,”

You smile, blossoming in his praise. He slows his pace to gently ease you out of your state of overstimulation. Without skipping a beat, Jake lifts himself to look down at your restless body. You muster a smile and he smirks in return. That fucking stupid cocky smirk. This fucking guy has you exactly where he wants you. He is the predator and you are his prey. He’s made you comfortable and free in his presence, but soon all of that would change.

Jake reaches for the button on his jeans and releases himself from the tightness. His cock bulges out from the zipper, begging to feel the ecstasy you feel. The thought of making his cock happy again fills you with excitement. He runs his hands over the bulge, caressing the bundle, watching you. Stalking his prey.

He uses his free hand to free himself fully from the boxer briefs. His cock jumps, extending itself towards your pleading cunt. He spits into his hand and begins to lubricate himself.

You go to sit up, but he pushes you back down; holding down your neck with more pressure than you're used to. You look directly into his eyes. The soft brown eyes melt you, but the look of utter desire within them clouds any sweet thoughts.

“You need me, huh?” He taunts.

“Yes.” You whimper back trying to breathe through the grip he has on you.

“Say it.” He directs.

“I need you to fuck me, right here… right now.”

He doesn’t hesitate any longer. He loosens his grip from your neck, and moves it to your hip, pulling you close to him. He shoves himself into you, stretching yourself around his shaft. You both gasp, shocked to remember how good you two feel together.

“Fuck…” He exhales.

Feeling him inside you is other-worldly. It’s the world’s best fucking drug. He gives you all of him, thrusting until he can’t reach any further. Gliding in and out of your pussy, creating the impurest sounds.

He picks up his speed without any haste, choosing to ignore the state he’s putting you into. Your bodies smack together, connecting, becoming a cloud of passion. Your moans are deep, enraptured in the erotic act.

“Yes…” You groan.

You try to sit up again, to be closer to him, but he rejects your movements. He takes your forearms and pins them down to your sides, using you for leverage, and most importantly keeping himself in control. He’s cunning and calculated with his choices.

“Stay,” He warns.

He drives into you further, becoming rougher with each slam. There is no gentle touch with him at this point, he’s heated, quivering, close to his own release. The grip on your arms becomes tighter, and you can tell the speed is killing him. His thrusts are splitting you, tempting another climax. Although you can’t lift yourself fully, you still feel the arching in your back, trying to prevent writhing around. Everything feels so sensitive, so electric.

“Uh-uh,” He growls, slowing his pumps. He’s edging himself; or should I say us.

He pulls out entirely and sits you up. In one fluid motion, he sits himself on the bed and turns you over into his lap.

But all you can think about is pressing your face up against his, violating his mouth with yours, sitting on his lap, and feeling his cock pressed up against your pussy…

Dreams are coming true. He guides the tip into you, filling you again with his presence. In this position, you have no other option than to feel the entirety of him. He places his hands on your hips, trying to help guide your pace; bouncing you over his length. He’s breaching your cervix, sending your body mixed signals of pain and pleasure. It doesn’t take long before he’s using his force to rock you harder against him. You match his energy, grinding and bouncing on his cock.

“Your pussy is fucking magical,” He sighs.

You dare not tempt any bratty behavior at this moment, holding back any retorts would be hard, but you censor yourself, and lean into his ear, “Your cock makes me feel fucking magical.”

He shivers hearing the words. Even though you know he has control over the situation, you still have the ability to make him melt. There are no plans for sensuality at this tipping point. You’ve set him into a feverish state; too close to toppling over.

He holds your body close to his, bringing your breast into his mouth, fondling it between his lips. He sinks you down as far as you can let him and frantically picks up the pace.

Jake rolls his hips, squirming himself inside of you.

“Oh!” You cry, “Yes! Please, sir!... Give it to me!”

Soft grunts escaping between you, sending both of you reeling. Neither of you can deny what was destined. Your bodies hit the breaking point, melding together in a hot fervor.

He detaches from your breast, to allow you even closer to him. He shifts his grip onto your ass, practically breaking you from his strength. You turn your head downward, kissing him through the bumpy movements.

His vigorous touch pushes you into your second orgasm, trembling over his cock. When he feels the presence of your climax, he allows himself to spill into you, throbbing with relief. Both of you slowly grind on each other, trying not to extinguish the feeling of ecstasy.

Unfortunately, you both know all good things must come to an end. Jake falls backward, closing his eyes, exhausted. His hair stuck together in sweaty clumps. You gently lift yourself, removing him from your over-sensitive heat.

“Fuck…” He exhales.

You giggle seeing him in such a vulnerable state. He’s experiencing the same shock you felt the first night together. Maybe he already has, but this time he was less afraid to show you how you could make him feel.

You climb off the bed and grab the towel hanging off the back of the door; offering it to him. You both had made an absolute mess, but most of it had spilled onto Jake.

He peeks an eye open and lazily takes the towel from you. You clamber back in the bed to lay beside him. Resting on your side, staring at his heavenly profile. You reach out to his hair, moving the sticking strands from his face.

Some of the loose strands of hair are still stuck to his glossy forehead. You give in to impulse and swipe the clung pieces from the sweat. Your hand grazing the edges of his face, tucking the hair with the rest.

You pet him softly, pawing the hair away from his damp forehead. His breathing has finally slowed. He picks himself up, starting to use the gifted towel.

He turns to look at you, “Hey, what time is it?”

You roll over to grab your phone, “Uh, it’s almost midnight.”

“Shit. Really?” He sounds concerned. He stands and begins to dress himself.

“Yeah, it's 11:56,” You reply.

The mood has gone from warm and erotic to awkward and uncertain. He’s closing himself off again, and that one moment of intimacy and aftercare has quickly passed.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I really have to go do something.”

“Oh.” You sigh.

Fuck.

You pull the comforter corner up, trying to shield your body; shield the vulnerability.

“No, no.” He runs over to your side, and pulls your face into his hands, “It’s nothing bad. Remember I told you I can’t stay long?” You nod your head, remembering his warning. “I just wanted to come make you feel good, I hope I didn’t disappoint you,”

He really didn’t, the only disappointing part is him not committing to staying with you for longer than a few hours.

“I’ll be okay,” You respond, “I’ll see you tomorrow right?”

“Yes,” He answers. He beams at you, letting you soak in his happiness, “Be good for me until then, okay?” He pulls you in for one last kiss. When he breaks away, he looks at you another moment before rubbing your cheek and turning away.

Watching him leave is always depressing. This night confirms your feelings for Jake are far past just sexual. The promise of seeing him tomorrow is the only thing keeping you together. Well, that and he almost couldn’t fucking take you.

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Still, in a state of morning fog and confusion, you turn to your left and reach out to touch him; expecting him to be there- but he’s not there. Where did he go? He was so close to you last night, facing you, noses practically touching, breathing lightly, but still enough to feel the breeze of him on you. The sheets had been completely evacuated of him; the only thing remaining was a few long strands of his chestnut hair.

History repeats itself.

The next day goes by a little faster than the previous, it's been a few days now since your first encounter with Jake. Instead of fear permeating through you, it’s a whole new skin of confidence. He’s into you, he wants your touch. You feel better knowing in some way you have him, even if he’s not really yours.

You maintain a few chatty words with him through text as the afternoon flies by. Nothing serious or sexy, but rather quite wholesome; sending music back and forth, critiquing each other's taste. He prefers his rock music to be classic, and yours brings his into a new age.

You both know that you’re scheduled to be at the bar tonight. Fleet’s on Saturday night is full of the local college crowd and you two are the only ones that can keep up with the rowdy patrons. Jake acts like a man of steel, fighting off the begging drunks, getting the girls off the counter, and most importantly completing the orders. You on the other hand take a more relaxed approach, keeping the customers happy, cleaning up the bar, and assembling the beer buckets.

On your drive to the bar, you think of how Jake might be different this time around. He seems to also be radiating this new energy that you feel. You’ve never seen him smile this much around you, and you're savoring every moment. You start playing one of the songs he sent you and instantly feel like you're being wrapped up by his presence again. Tapping your fingers to the beat, humming along to melodies. It doesn’t take long before you’re pulling back into the horrendous parking lot, bouncing through potholes until you reach the back.

You are thankful for Jake's protection of you on Thursday. Avoiding Chris’ bad side makes work a lot easier. It wasn’t your first time being on Chris’ naughty list and you knew you had to start being extra careful.

You walk into the back of the building, quick to park your bag in your cubby, and hustle out to the bar to take over from Mariella. You try to show up fifteen minutes early to help start the takeover. Mariella has a few people still being served, but they’re more interested in their dates than ordering more drinks. You slide under the counter and pop over next to her.

“Hey!” You say in a cheery tone.

She doesn't even look at you, instead focusing on putting away glasses. “Hi,” She snaps at you.

“Everything all set? Did you close these guys out or should we transfer them-”

“They’ll be closed. Don’t worry about it.” She picks up the crate of dirty dishes and walks them over to the compact dishwasher and begins to load them; still not making eye contact.

Alright. This is weird. You try to ignore it as you clock into the electronic system. You sneak glances back at her as you type in your employee number, checking to see if she’ll look back.

You try to break the tension further, “I’ll wipe down the counters,”

“Okay.” She responds.

Okay, what the fuck? Is she mad at you? Maybe she also got in trouble the night you were drinking. You tried to save her, but Jake kept ordering more. You start wiping down the counters with the already wet rag she had handy. She finishes stacking the last glass into the dishwasher and closes it aggressively; so hard you can hear the clinking cries of the wine glasses inside.

You work your way down the countertop to the corner away from her and the customers; even though this side looks barely touched. She walks over towards you, pulling out her phone, again trying to avoid eye contact. You step out in front of her, directly blocking her from the exit.

“Hey,” You wave to her, “What's up?”

“Can you just move?” She torts back.

“Are you mad at me? What the fuck is going on here?” You gesture at her.

“I don't know,” She says, “Why don’t you ask Jake?”

What? Is she really that mad about Wednesday night? Did he say something to her?

“What are you talking about? Did we get you in trouble?”

“The only person who got in trouble was you, and it's well deserved,” She tries to push past you to slide beyond the counter.

You reach out to her, grabbing her wrist, “Hey!”

“Bitch!” She snaps her hand back from you, “Don’t touch me!”

“Mariella, what the fuck is going on? Why are you acting like this?”

Your heart is beating, stress putting your body in a clammy state of shock. You’ve always hated confrontation, especially amongst friends, and especially when you felt like you were the one responsible.

“Ask Jake why he was at my house last night,” She slides out from the counter and walks to the back hallway, turning away from you. You swing back to look at the other end of the bar, where the customers are obviously trying to pretend they aren’t eavesdropping.

Seriously what the fuck is she talking about. Is that why Jake had to leave so soon? Was she the something that came up?

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I really have to go do something.”

Mariella never had much of a relationship with Jake, other than being coworkers, they hardly ever worked the same shift but would cover for each other from time to time. What the fuck could have happened?

That confidence you were wearing earlier is slowly starting to peel back, ripping at the seams of your growing confusion… and anger. You thought that you might be his only conquest, but really you never confirmed that. Was she a loose end? Or something he also tied over frequently.

The anxiety is already spinning in your head, you’re spiraling trying to make sense of what has been revealed to you. It could be nothing, but judging by her reaction, it was more. Nothing doesn’t mean nothing. Here you were now between the two of them, scared after her exit, and scared for when he came into the bar. This whole situation feels like a fucking movie, too dramatic to be your life. This whole week has been like some weird fantasy coming to life.

You try to choke down the feelings of jealousy and immaturity; you have to be better than Mariella. It will be hard for you to avoid bringing it up in Jake, but it’s not the right place to ask. You don’t know how you’ll react to his responses, how he’ll react to your questioning, and most importantly what will come of that conversation. If you were to stay on top of your game tonight, you had to try and focus on the job, not the drama; which could be saved for later. Breathe. Compartmentalize. Let go… For now.

You walk over to the corner where the few patrons are sitting and introduce yourself to them, “Sorry about that... But anyway, I’m going to be taking care of you the rest of the night. If you need anything just wave me over!” The group mutters a few thanks and you turn over to finish your tasks.

Jake strolls out from the back hallway with no look of concern on his face. He must not have run into Mariella on his way in, or he’s hiding it really well. He slides under the bar to join you, an expressive look on his face.

“Hey sunshine,” He reaches his hand over to your head and tussles the top of your hair, “Hope I didn’t disappoint you again, I don't have any new drinks to make you,”

Breathe. Compartmentalize. Let go… For now.

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Thank you if you came back for part two 🥹 Let me know if you want to be on the tag list for this, I obviously have to continue this story… For now!

#jake kiszka #greta van fleet #jake gvf #josh kiszka #gvf smut #gvf fic #gvf #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #jake smut #greta van smut #greta van fleet smut #greta van fic #jacob thomas kiszka #jacob kiszka #if I ever meet this man i will combust

129 notes · View notes

purplefangirl42 · 5 months

Note

I see you've done Sheriff Hunter before and I'd love to see a bit where he gets shot in some fool hardy shootout and the reader has to convince him to let them help him 😁😁😁😁

Thank you!

Thanks for the request! I'm sorry this took so long and hope you can enjoy this as a holiday surprise! It ended up being way longer than I originally intended. It is a continuation of the previous Sheriff Hunter piece I did before! Divider by saradika

Tags: Western AU, slight angst, gun violence, injury and death mentions

Things after your accidental trek across the desert were much less exciting. You decided to settle down in the town that you had ended up at in your travels, not wishing to go any further and risk another incident. You had been sad to see your friend go, but were happy that she and her family were moving onto better things.

Over time, you developed relationships with the people in town and started to become part of the community. The Sheriff and his family welcomed you with open arms every time you stopped by to visit them. The youngest, a girl named Omega, was overly fond of you and loved to tell you stories of how things were before you arrived.

However, every time the subject veered in the direction of their missing brother, who’s name you had learned was Crosshair, Hunter would change the subject and ask Omega to talk about something else. It seemed that he did not want to speak about this wayward brother in any capacity, especially with Omega around. One day, when she was off playing with other children from town, you approached him to talk about it.

“I know you don’t like to discuss what happened with Crosshair, but I thought maybe you could get a little bit of closure if you talked about it to someone that doesn’t already have an opinion formed on the matter.”

Hunter leaned back in his chair and sighed, running one of his hands down his face. While he had never told you specifically to leave the subject alone, only diverting the conversation when Omega brought it up, you had the feeling that he wasn’t keen on talking about it at all. Even with you.

“I get that there is a lot of pain behind what happened,” you continued. “But letting it fester and refusing to talk about it will not make it go away.”

“He made a choice to join a bad group of people,” Hunter said. “We tried to talk him out of it and he refused to listen. That’s all there is to it.”

You raised your eyebrows in disbelief. That didn’t seem like something that would cause the reaction it normally did. There had to be more to it than that, he just wasn’t telling you.

“So you just left him behind? Washed your hands of your own brother and gave up on him?”

Hunter sat up straight, a scowl covering his features at your accusation.

“Of course not!” he said with a raised voice before lowering it to speak again. “We tried to help him. But he’s a stubborn bastard and there is no changing his mind once it’s made up. Believe me, I’ve known him his entire life. Once his decision is made, that’s it. Not even Wrecker could get through to him and those two were closer than any of us.”

Sensing that you had crossed some boundaries, you held up your hands in surrender and backed away from him.

“I’m sorry, I never should have said that. I know you would never do something like that. I was simply trying to get some answers.”

“Why do you care so much?” Hunter asked.

“Because I see the sadness in your eyes everytime Omega brings him up,” you said. “You miss him. I know it.”

Hunter’s expression softened and he looked down at his desk for a moment before pulling open one of the drawers. He lifted something from the drawer and placed it on the desk, pushing it towards you. You picked up the picture frame that he had revealed and looked down at the dusty faded photo within.

It was of a group of five men, all standing together as a united force. Your eyes glanced over the familiar faces of Tech, Wrecker, Hunter, and Echo before landing on a thinner face fixed in an almost permanent looking scowl. He had a tattoo over one eye and a neatly trimmed head of lighter hair than the rest of his brothers. Overall, he had the appearance of someone that didn’t quite look like he belonged.

“That was taken before we took in Omega,” Hunter said. “And before Crosshair left us. Don’t let his scowl fool you, he was always making that face.”

You could almost hear the love in Hunter’s voice at his comment about his brother’s sour expression. Like it was something that he remembered fondly.

“I still believe that he might come back someday,” you said, handing the photo back to him. “Sometimes people just need to go through things on their own before they find their way back to where they belong.”

“I hope you’re right,” Hunter said. “Although, it seems like you found where you belong in this town, so maybe you know better than any of us.”

You smiled at him, glad he seemed to have forgiven you for crossing his boundaries before. He returned your smile with a small one of his own before returning the photo back to its original home. Just as you were about to say something else, the door banged open behind you and Omega came running in.

“Hunter! You need to come quick!”

Hunter was on his feet faster than you had ever seen anyone move before, running around the desk to answer his sister’s call. You ran after the pair of them out into the street, but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw why Omega had come to get him.

Tech was on the ground, glasses knocked askew and blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. The local tavern owner, Phee, knelt beside him and was trying to wash away some of the blood with the corner of her apron.

“What happened?” Hunter asked.

“The Imperials were here,” Tech said as he reached up to straighten his glasses. “They were looking for someone.”

You saw Hunter stiffen at the mention of the Imperials. You didn’t know much about this group, but you knew they were bad news. They had done a lot of harm to people that didn’t deserve it.

“Was he with them?” Hunter asked softly.

“Do you think I would still be here if he was?” Tech asked, getting back to his feet with Phee’s help. “They didn’t seem too interested in us or the townsfolk. They were only looking for someone that was running from them. I think of those religious refugees that came through a few days ago.”

“The Jedi?” you asked. “Why would they be looking for them? You would think they would have given up on them by now.”

Hunter turned to look at you with a pitying look. He knew that your brother had been part of the religious order known as the Jedi, and that his death at the hands of the Imperials had been what had caused you to travel far away with your friend’s family in the first place. It was one of the reasons you had pushed him to talk about his grief so much, you wanted to find a common ground.

“We’ll just keep our distance from any others that come into town,” Hunter said. “If anyone sees something suspicious, just avoid it and go inside.”

“You want us to run and hide?” Echo said, coming up on the scene with Wrecker. “Shouldn’t we do something about it?”

“Yeah!” Wrecker added. “I don’t wanna hide. I wanna fight these bozos off so they leave people alone!”

You heard Hunter sigh tiredly and saw him run one of his hands through his thick hair. You had heard this conversation happen before in their group, namely between Hunter and Echo. The latter wanted to do something about this gang, but Hunter wanted to leave it alone and ignore it.

“Fine, you do what you want,” he said. “But don’t expect a successful outcome. There are more of them than there are of us. I think the best way to deal with it is to avoid aggravating them, but if you feel that fighting back will help, then go ahead.”

Seemingly glad to have their brother’s blessing, albeit reluctant, Echo and Wrecker turned in the direction of the stables. Hunter watched them go, his hands resting on his hips and shoulders drooping low. You stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“It will be alright, Hunter,” you said. “They know what they’re doing.”

“I wish I shared your optimism,” he said before walking back in the direction of his office, Omega trailing after him.

The following day, you were making your way back from the well when you came across Hunter sitting on the steps to the station. He was fiddling with a knife, spinning it in his hands as he stared at the ground in front of him.

“Any news?” you asked.

He shook his head and threw the knife down at the ground, watching it embed itself in the dirt.

“They left last night,” he said. “Don’t know where they went exactly. Omega wanted to go with them, determined to help.”

“I take it you told her no?”

Hunter looked up at you with an incredulous expression.

“Of course I did. I had to lock her in her room to prevent her from going after them. She cried herself to sleep, but I think she understands that I was trying to protect her. She and Phee had a long talk this morning and she seemed in better spirits when she came back.”

You shifted the heavy bucket of water to one hip and patted his shoulder, hoping to offer him some sense of calm. He reached up and placed his hand over yours, his calloused fingers rough against your smooth skin. He looked like he wanted to say something, but hesitated a few times, opening his mouth and closing it again before words could come out.

“I should probably get going,” you said, breaking the tension between you. “This bucket is quite heavy.”

He waved you off and you started back in the direction of home. Just before you reached your door, you could hear some strange noises just down the street. It almost sounded like muffled voices. You placed your bucket down and walked in the direction of the sound, keeping your steps light to avoid alerting others of your presence. You came to an alley and peaked you head around the corner.

Huddled in the alley were six men dressed in black with dark bandanas covering the lower half of their faces. A white star shape was emblazoned on their black hats, which you knew meant that they were members of the Imperials. One of the men looked up, brown eyes focusing on you. One of the eyes had a tattoo over it. A tattoo you recognized.

“We have company,” he said in a raspy voice.

You lifted your skirts and ran as fast as you could away from the men, heading back in the direction of the Sheriff’s station. You opened your mouth to call for Hunter, but before you could say anything, a gloved hand covered your mouth.

“Not so fast, little miss,” a voice said in your ear.

Thinking quickly, you stopped your foot down on the man’s toes, causing him to howl in pain and released his hold on you. You started running again and made it to the steps, calling out for Hunter. He came running out and caught you as you stumbled up the stairs.

“Imperials! They’re in the town!” you shouted between gasping breaths.

Hunter told you to get inside and reached just inside the door to grab his pistol and hat from where they were hanging beside the door. Just as soon as he had them in his position, the men in black appeared in the square in front of the station.

“You seem lost, gentlemen,” Hunter said calmly. “I believe you are in the wrong town.”

You peered out from the open doorway, hiding your body behind the solid wooden frame. Your eyes flicked over to the other side of the room, where Tech’s double pistols were hanging. You had never fired a gun before, but maybe you could figure it out if Hunter needed some help.

A tall, thin figure stepped out from the rest of the group and faced Hunter directly. He pulled his bandana down and you could clearly see the face that you had suspected when you had noticed the tattoo before. There was no doubt in your mind. It was Crosshair.

“Don’t play coy, Hunter,” he rasped. “We know the girl is connected to the Jedi. Hand her over and we’ll leave.”

You felt your heart stop in your chest. They were looking for you? While your brother had been in the Jedi order, you had never had any involvement yourself. You couldn’t understand why they would want you.

“You can’t have her, she’s done nothing wrong,” Hunter said.

“Who’s going to stop us? You?” Crosshair sneered. “I know Wrecker and Echo aren’t here to help you and Tech got knocked around yesterday by one of my men. You’re on your own.”

You heard a soft noise behind you and when you turned, you saw a small blonde head poking out from behind the wall that hid the stairs leading to the upper level. You waved your hand frantically at Omega, motioning for her to go back upstairs. She seemed to ignore your instruction, however, and snuck down from her perch on the stairs to stand on the other side of the doorway.

She grabbed one of Tech’s pistols and tossed it in your direction before taking the other in her own hands. You sighed in resignation and turned the gun over in your hands, trying to figure out how it worked. Omega waved a hand at you and showed you what to do from across the room, motioning to different parts of the gun. You were able to follow her silent instruction and get it ready to fire.

During this interchange, you had missed everything happening outside. When you looked back at Hunter, you noticed that he had his gun raised, pointing it at his brother. Crosshair had done the same and the two of them seemed to be in a standoff.

“This doesn’t have to be this way, Hunter. No one needs to get hurt, just hand her over.”

A gunshot rang out and one of the men beside Crosshair fell to the ground. Your head snapped over to look at Omega, who had fired the shot. Following her lead, you took out a man on the other side of the group. That left three more beside Crosshair. You quickly reloaded and watched as Omega took out another Imperial quicker than you could imagine.

Before you could set up to take out one of your own, there was another shot and Hunter collapsed on the ground in front of you. Behind the sound of your own heartbeat, you could hear Omega screaming and two more shots being fired.

You dropped the gun to the floor and sank to your knees beside Hunter. He was still moving, which caused a near sob of relief to escape your lungs. You tore the bottom of your skirt and pressed it against his bleeding shoulder.

“You need to get out of here,” Hunter said through clenched teeth.

You looked up and saw that Crosshair had disappeared, all of his men lying on the ground. Tech and Phee were running across the square, a smoking pistol in Phee’s hand. She must have taken out the other two men after Hunter had been shot.

“I think we’re good, they’re all dead and Crosshair’s gone,” you said. “We need to get you some help.”

“I’m fine. Give me some whisky and I’ll be good to go,” Hunter said, trying to sit up.

“He shot you, you idiot,” Phee said, coming to kneel beside the two of you. “You’re not fine.”

“I need some pliers, a needle and thread, some bandages, and something to clean his wound,” you said.

Phee nodded and ran off in the direction of her tavern. You had seen many fights take place there in your short time here in town, so you figured she had some supplies to deal with this kind of situation.

“You don’t have to take care of me,” Hunter said. “Tech can do it.”

“Tech’s glasses are broken and he’s currently trying to calm down Omega,” you said, looking in the direction of Hunter’s siblings to confirm your statement.

“I still think you should get out of here before he comes back again,” Hunter said, wincing in pain as he tried to move again. “You obviously aren’t safe here.”

“Let me fix you up and then we’ll talk about it,” you said. “You got shot for me, the least I can do is help you afterwards.”

Hunter’s pained expression softened as he met your gaze.

“I’d get shot for you anyday, beautiful.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his words before the thought that he might be delirious crossed your mind. You shook your head to clear away your feelings just as Phee returned with the supplies.

“Now hold still and let’s get this bullet out of you before you bleed to death.”

#hunter tbb x reader #hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #hunter tbb #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch

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barry-j-blupjeans · 6 months

Text

Day 1: Baby

@taznovembercelebration aaaa I'm so excited to be doing this again !!! Pls enjoy !

There was a gentle breeze that blew in when Merle cracked the window open. Even from all the way up the beach, he could hear the waves crashing against the shore, the gentle rustle of leaves getting blown by the wind. He pulled the rocking chair up closer to the window, wincing as it scrapped against the floor.

Merle was not a family kind of guy. He was more of a “get up and leave as soon as things got too committed” guy. But for some reason, he had decided to stick around a little longer with his most recent fuck-up.

The beach was nice, even at night. The Coralheart Clan was in a secluded spot, surrounded by all sorts of beautiful shrubbery and flowers. They had had their own little enclave here on the coast of the Starlight Sea where the clan had lived for hundreds of years. They didn’t usually accept outsiders into their ranks but, well. Here Merle was.

“Shhh,” Merle said when Mookie shifted in his arms, a small whimper coming from his teeny tiny lips. “Daddy’s got’cha, bud.”

Merle couldn’t remember how he made his way into the Coralheart Clan. He had never really planned on returning to any clan after leaving his original one. They were too stuffy. Like, sue him for wanting to see more of the world than just the beach. And that was comin’ from him. He loved the beach. But clans? He was better left alone.

But one day, he woke up in the Coralheart Clan, not fully accepted by all the members, but generally left be. And then he met Hekuba— who was a fantastic woman, up until y’know, the forced marriage and all. Merle couldn’t exactly blame her— he didn’t want to get married either. But leaving her to deal with their baby alone, with all the clan's expectations on her? Merle might be an asshole, but he couldn’t— he wasn’t going to do that.

Not then, at least. He couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t thinking about it now.

It’s just that— Well, Hekuba had practice, what with Mavis and all. And she had family here to support her. Merle wasn’t anybody important. He could barely take care of the kids, he didn’t have the energy to do his chores, and he couldn’t focus on the community when his thoughts just weren’t here.

He loved Mookie. He was such a small, tiny little thing. He had his mom’s hair and Merle’s own hazel eyes. His itty bitty hand could barely fit around Merle’s thumb. But there wasn’t much Merle was doing for him aside from rockin’ him to sleep and anyone could do that job.

He loved Mavis, too. She wasn’t as small as Mookie was, but she was still a growin’ girl. Merle would take her on walks and show her all the plants and tell her all their names. She’d started dragging him to the library with her to find good books— Merle’s suggestion of adventure stories fell on flat ears. Mavis preferred to ”learn something, Dad!”, which, apparently, adventure books couldn’t do.

He felt like he was holding her back. She deserved a Dad who put in more effort, who would always pay attention to her fun facts and not get tired on their walks.

In another life, maybe he could have loved Hekuba like he was supposed to. But she was strong. And if Merle knew anything, he knew Hekuba could figure out any problem thrown at her. After all, she had been able to deal with being married to him.

He rocked back and forth in the chair, looking out to the sea as Mookie calmed down. His whimpers slowly quieted, his breathing evened out. The two moons cast reflections onto the rippling water. There was so much more to life out there. He loved the beach, he loved his kids…

But this wasn’t the life for him.

He held Mookie a little closer to him and pressed a kiss onto his forehead. Growing up with no Dad was better than what Merle had had to deal with as a child. He could only hope this little guy wouldn’t mind.

#taz november celebration #taz nc #merle highchurch #taz #taz merle highchurch #mine #ise cube writing

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ddeonudazed · 1 year

Text

📷 Polaroid

cw: a couple curse words, sunghoon and Niki slander

Sunghoon was currently doing a favor for his friends, he believed that he was helping Jungwon, Niki and Sunoo get a good word into m/n. However, the trio had failed to tell him of a very obvious issue: the photography club seems to have some resentment towards him.

Poor Sunghoon was left dejected, standing outside of the club room with his hand raised in a greeting after Dongpyo and Yoon slammed the door in his face. A similarly pouting Sunoo watched from down the hall, whining into the phone about what just happened.

Sunghoon sighed and walked back to his friend, hands raised in defense "I tried alright? They seem to hate sexy men." Sunoo rolled his eyes, muttering something about how that couldn't be true since m/n was a member before pulling the back of the older males shirt to return to the student council room where Jungwon waited anxiously.

Jungwon lit up, grinning as he saw the duo walk up but his smile slowly dropped as Sunoo silently communicated their loss with him. He whined and slumped against the door with a sigh, "This is why I just wanted to go there myself, why couldn't we have done that?" Sunoo nodded and sat next to him, dramatically slumping over his shoulder, "Because a certain someone refuses to look at Wonyoung ever since she saw how bad his semester exams were. Plus I don't think she would even let us do the shoot because we're friends with this clown."

Sunghoon rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, "Ignoring that, anyway why don't you guys do your original plan and I can set up a pity party with Jay and heesung hyung," Jungwon pouted, "Why not Jake hyung?"

"He'd be too sympathetic, honestly for three semi smart guys you all are really dumb when it comes to flirting. " Sunoo glared at him, "Oh yeah! Flirting with your hallway crush is so easy, especially when you're both guys and he seems to tune everyone out either way!" Jungwon solemnly nodded and hung his head his hands before him and Sunoo tumbled backwards and not-so-graciously laid on the floor.

"GUYS HOLY SHIT GUESS WHAT I JUST THOUGHT OF......why are you on the floor?" Niki asked as he yanked the club door open, only to be met with a sigh as the group poured in, "I don't care anymore because I thought of THE BEST plan to win over m/n for the shoot!!" Sunoo rested his elbow on the table, his black hair falling softly across his forehead at the thought of Niki having a good idea for once "Okay if you're so excited, what is it?"

Niki proudly stood up, slamming his hands on the table before assuming a superhero pose with his hands clenched on his hips, "We bribe Dongpyo and Jongseob into helping us with promise of desserts which would buy us time to convince Wonyoung and Yoon Noona to let us shoot AND would set up a date for us with m/n!"

Jungwon and Sunoo stared at Niki while Sunghoon held in his laughter, snickering and holding his side, "Wow Niki I didn't know you could act anymore more childish." "Okay jokes aside that is a good idea, but it should be me and Sunoo hyung doing the persuasion, you clamp up and stare all creep like at m/n anyway."

Sunoo and Jungwon nodded with a newfound fire in their eyes before marching out and down the hall. Niki turned to a now calm Sunghoon and furrowed his brows, "Is it really that creepy?"

Once again at the photography club room, Jungwon knocked and took a deep breathe before being greeted by a smiling Yoon. "Jungwon, hi! Your friend was here earlier, I thought I would have to smack him with the tripod if he didn't leave." Jungwon chuckled softly, nodding before pushing back his hair, "Yeah sorry about that, I don't know how to explain him but he means well I promise. Actually we came to talk to Jongseob and Dongpyo, are they here?"

Yoon tapped her chin, her long manicured nails gently rubbing her lip in fake thought "Well, if depends. Why do you want to see them? We're very busy and just because you're student council members doesn't mean you can disrupt our work." Sunoo cleared his throat, flashing a sweet smile that Yoon mirrored and bowed politely, "Hi um, it's about the winter wonderland photo-shoot, we saw on your Twitter, that you're looking for models and with the celebration itself already being planned, we wanted to see if we can enter the contest." "And by we, we mean me, Sunoo hyung and Niki", Jungwon added.

Now in actual thought, Yoon puffed put her cheeks before opening the door to let them in. The two looked around the room, having never actually been in it besides standing in the doorway or looking through the window. The room itself was a large unused classroom but half of the desk were missing, the rest were pushed up against the wall as a makeshift seating area which was marked by the littered half eaten snack packs the club ate during activities. The walls itself were covered with various newspaper cutouts from the school paper as well as older pictures from past clients and some wholesome polaroids of the group.

The rest of the room was a mini studio with donated backdrops from the drama club and personal cameras, which they knew were m/ns due to the (favorite color/fandom) themed neckstrap hanging from the tripod. The large lights used to illuminate the models was turned off and soft indie music was playing in the background to fill empty space. "You guys can stand over by the waiting area, I need to speak with Wonyoung." Yoon instructed before going into a closet that had dark red light shining through the opening underneath.

Sunoo grinned and excitedly pointed to a cluster of Polaroids hanging by stringed lights, "Look! This is of m/n, he looks so cute in this." The pair gazed at the picture that as pretty simple selfie Polaroid but the smile that m/n had on his face was so large they were kinda worried if his cheeks hurt after taking it, however it left their mind as Sunoo and Jungwon imagined how it would feel of they were the ones to make those (e/c) eyes gleam with such happiness.

Their lovestruck daydreams were ruined when the door to the red room opened and oustepped a tired m/n, Wonyoung and Jongseob.

☁synopsis: in school there are only two things that sunwonki care about, passing classes and loving their hallway crush m/n who happens to be the schools photographer. what will happen when they all start to fight over the photography club's secretary while trying to maintain the popular boy stereotype?

☁enha! maknae line x male! reader featuring: wonyoung of ive, hyeongjun of cravity, dongypo of mirae, jeongseob of p1harmony, yoon of stayc and the rest of enhypen!

☁cw: smau! fluff + angst! slow burn! lowkey crack! flirting between heeseung and jake, hella gay, polyamory

FEM(SHE/HER/THEY/SHE....) DNI!!

.・✫・゜・。.

tag list (open): @priochebun @geonusboy @strwberrydinosaur @rinswrlds-blog

#enhypen fluff #enhypen x male reader #jungwon x male reader #kpop x male reader #niki x male reader #sunoo x male reader #male reader #x male reader #enhypen reactions

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perpetualcynicism · 7 months

Text

𝔬𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔞 𝔣𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔶𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔢 — 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔢𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱.

𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔳𝔢. 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫.

——————————————————————

“Your mark, it… it has receded.”

Even as you said it, you almost could not believe what you were seeing: the dark tendrils reaching down the side of her neck had crept back to her jaw, where they stayed, pulsing slightly, as if with resentment towards their lost territory. Part of you was convinced you were merely deluding yourself into thinking the mark had shrunk due to desperation, but no; it was undeniably smaller than before.

“‘Receded?’” asked the little girl.

“It's smaller than before.”

“Oh.” Then, “That’s good, isn’t it?”

“I… I suppose so, yes,” you replied in a puzzled daze, too preoccupied with countless notions of what this meant to answer certainly.

Was it the berries which had caused this to happen? It was more likely them than any other factor; and it seemed appropriate that only something originating from the woods could have an effect on whatever else came from it.

You had not realised your hands were trembling until the little girl pointed it out to you. A strange kind of excitement was coursing through your veins. Could this at last be the solution you were looking for?

You inhaled deeply to steady yourself: if you were to tackle the disease, you must be calm as you did so. Excitement could lead to oversights, and oversights to consequences; further hardships you did not need.

Shortly later, you told the little girl to go to sleep on the account that it was her bedtime as well as needing some time to yourself to make sense of what you had discovered. Once she was dozing peacefully, you slipped out from the bedroom and into your study, where you spent the remaining hours of night grinding the remaining berries into a paste along with some other herbs you had used in previous attempts to configure a cure. As always, you then infused the mixture with a sliver of magic to enhance its effects.

When morning arrived, after a short walk to the forest wherein you left another flower on the tree stump, this time daring to hold onto high hopes that it would be reciprocated, you conducted another sweep of your patients, distributing as much of the berry concoction as you could afford between them. The results were better than anything you had tried before, with the disease’s dark blemishes reluctantly receding, and a feeling of relief—relief which had not been felt by the community for far too long—settled over the village.

However, following the course of a few days, you began to discover that this solution, though promising, was far from flawless.

The first problem emerged when you found the demand for the berries required to treat symptoms greatly outweighed what you could provide: though your exchange of flower and fruit became routine, the amount you received in return was simply not enough for everybody—and you could hardly march up to the woods and demand the sorcerer for more.

Furthermore, it soon became apparent that despite somewhat holding back the symptoms, the berries could not completely eradicate the disease: if a patient went a few days without another dose, the dark roots would regain their lost ground as though they had never been weakened at all.

When you discovered this, you could not help but feel your initial hope dwindle: even after everything, the only solution available was temporary. When visiting your patients again, you learned that it was only you who felt this decline in hopefulness, for the villagers were only more eager to receive their treatment now that they knew of a cure. Once they had tasted relief, they were not keen on returning to the darkness.

You may be selfish for doing so, but you kept a larger dose of berries—or one as large as you could afford to—for the little girl’s treatment. It was true you had a responsibility for all of your patients, but you were her guardian, and the thought of doing her parents ill was one you were far from eager to entertain.

Some days later, when your supply inevitably ran short and you estimated a day’s wait for the next exchange—from this morning (when you had left your flowers) to the next, (when the sorcerer would return the favour)—a minor outcry arose in the village.

“We have not received our treatment today. Is something wrong?” “Have you run out?” “Are we to die?” “Please, do not let me die!”

You tried to placate their cries with reassurances that all would resume as normal the next day, but your words of recovery fell deaf onto the ears of the dying. After some time, you managed to calm the townsfolk enough to return to your home unpursued, but still you could not be truly relieved: as desperate as they may be, the villagers had raised a vital point you had been hoping could be overlooked for longer. Today, it was only a one day wait, and making up the lost time was bearable. However, as the disease spread to more victims—for you still knew of no way to prevent this—and as the already afflicted’s conditions grew only more severe, you knew you would not be able to cater for everyone’s needs.

Of course, they did not know it was another who was providing this supply; and if you told them the very treatment you had been giving them came from the woods, you feared they would refuse to take it any longer. Thus, explaining to them your situation was no more an option than demanding the sorcerer for more.

You sent the little girl up to bed earlier than usual, when the sun had barely begun to set, and gave her the last dose of medicine you currently had. Afterwards, in the quiet house, you sat in your study, feeling the weight of your responsibility heavier than ever before. Grieved by your own helplessness and fatigued by a lack of sleep, you completed no work, nor attempted any new solutions. You merely sat by the light of the dying candlelamp, and watched its lone flame burn the hours silently away. Though the light it cast was sufficiently bright, you could only see the shadows.

It was later that evening that you noticed the little dark patch beneath your ear. Though not unexpected, a sharp, painful cinch seized your heart like a hand suffocating your very being; one from which you could not escape, and which would only constrict around you as time went on.

You lowered a shaking finger and slipped towards the little girl’s room, opening the door by a crack. She was sound asleep inside. For a moment, your expression softened; ill she may be, but she never complained, the poor thing. Then your face hardened, your smile turning grim.

If I die, everybody else does, too.

Could you live with yourself if that happened?

And so it was later that night that you found yourself sneaking into the forest, past the copses of trees and troll stones, and to the edge of the maw of the woods. You knew you had reached your destination when the grass began to grow sparse and grey, and when all other sounds beyond the soft creaking of stick-thin trees had faded into silence; although if asked, you could not have placed when.

Your plan—a flimsy, naive thing—was as follows: you would wait here on the border until the sorcerer came to take your flower, and you would ask him where he grew the berries, in the reckless, desperate hopes that, perhaps, you could find them yourself. If he refused to answer… You looked at the woods and its teeth of trees, and suppressed the shudder which pricked your spine.

You were hoping it wouldn’t have to come to such a thing.

Despite the rather obvious task of keeping an eye on the woods, there was little to do, waiting at your tree stump. Perhaps in other places, one may have delighted at the sounds of insects trilling in the air, or the haunting calls of birdsong by night; but here, on this thin border separating your world from… whatever it may be that lies across it, there were no such sounds to be heard. No animal of a wise mind would stray this close to the woods.

With a smile edging on sardonic, you wondered what that would make you.

You soon found you could not tell what time it was, nor track how long you’d been here; the sky was a dull, featureless grey, akin to what you imagined ‘nothing’ would look like if the concept was tangible. Time always seemed to bend out of shape where the woods was concerned. You fought to stay awake, your eyes fixed on the flower offering you had left that morning, determined to find answers, and uncover more about this sorcerer who had walked right out of a storybook and stolen the better half of your intrigue. What does his face look like? you wondered. What does his voice sound like? Why did he help you?

Beyond the border, there was a rustle of movement. You strained your eyes against the darkness, wondering whether it may be the sorcerer, but you could not decipher anything amiss amidst the close-packed trees. The woods seemed to only grow deeper as you stared into it until its thin residents began swimming in your vision. You shut your eyes firmly to banish the image from your mind. Behind your eyelids, you saw slender lines of grey.

You opened them to blink away the shapes, and found yourself somewhere you had only known once, but knew too well nonetheless. The stifling press of empty wind on your neck; the shapes scuttling through the darkness like strips of black cloth, leaving pricks on your skin as they brushed by. The trees and their branches like groping fingers, the countless eyes which were never there when you focused on them, tracing your every movement with hungry, malevolent patience.

No, you cried, but the not-wind’s silent whisper stole your voice. No. This can’t be. Not again. You turned your head this way and that, looking to find some escape, any direction at all to run in which was not a labyrinth of trees and shadows and snagging thorns.

Inside your head (against which you could feel your pulse, a hot press on your temples), your mind raced almost as fast as your heart did. You had not moved from the stump: how did this happen? Had you walked in with no memory of doing so? Had the woods advanced across the border? Could it even do that? What would such a thing mean for your village?

A voice tore you from your frantic thoughts. A voice you didn’t know but somehow remembered, it called a name which was not yours, and yet one which you recognised in a way that felt like the name was older, went deeper than yourself. The sounds struck you as being from ages past, when the world itself was still young. Your chest tightened upon each iteration, ebbing with a pain and yearning you could not place. If anything, it felt like it belonged to somebody else.

You had heard no shortage of stories while studying magic about ‘true’ names—names which did not define a person as much as they were a person—but you had always dismissed them as the side of magic which took after imagination more than substance. Now, seeing your body remember and respond to a collection of sounds your mind did not, you could not be so sure in your scepticism. This call was a fishing line, and unable to resist, you let it reel you forwards.

In the back of your mind, you were dimly aware, somewhere, of this being a very bad idea indeed. Whether this was a spell, or a bewitchment, or the woods’ way of ensnaring prey, you were walking right into the spider’s web. And yet you could not bring yourself to stop; so you walked, over the bone-like twigs cracking beneath your feet, past the eyes could could feel but not see, between the thicket and the thorns. The trees did not rustle behind you as they closed around the footsteps you left behind. The wind did not whisper as it goaded you onwards. The patient shadows did not slip along your skin, until the first one did.

You had felt the woods’ shadows before—soft, cold things reminiscent of a strip of torn velvet, which came and went in an instant—but they had never touched you, not like this. Before, it had been as though they were testing you; tasting you. Perhaps ‘tongues’ would be a more apt description.

But their patience must be exhausted, because now they were eager. When the first shadow touched you, it did not let go. It held on with what felt like fine needles, or perhaps teeth, a formless yet sharply cut dark shape on your forearm, only a touch darker than the natural shadow cast by your cloak. With a rustle of movement, the rest moved closer. So plentiful they were, so thick, that they obscured your vision completely, until you were not sure whether one had covered your eyes or if it was only you staring into the mouth of an utter absence of light.

Though you could not see them, you could feel them. They layered themselves onto the places shadows first should be and then where they shouldn’t. Something closed over your nose and when you opened your mouth to breathe, crept inside like ice water down your throat. In the few spaces the shadows did not cover or had moved from, your skin was dark, a purplish-black, and dry like scales.

When you awakened, there was a new pile of berries on the tree stump, and, making your way into the forest, the sun was rising over distant hills.

#genshin impact x reader #cyno #cyno x reader #dark sorcerer!cyno

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s9fti3 · 17 days

Note

I HAVE THE FUNNIEST REQUEST FOR YOU (because this actually happened to me and I need to tell someone send help please)

I started talking to this guy on a dating app a few days ago. He's a little younger than me and normally I don't really date people that are younger than me; for context, it's because I had to mature really early on (it's a whole thing, I won't get into it). Anyway, I gave him my phone number when he asked and so we've been texting ever since; he sends me cute little 'good morning' texts, tells me that he hopes I have a good day, etc. (entirely different from my last relationship of several years - for comparison, it's like I was dating Jane or Caius and suddenly jumped to Seth???).

SO ON SUNDAY, I had been up all night trying to get roleplay stuff together and I stupidly went down to the mini Mart by my house early in the morning (still sleep deprived) to get some coffee, and before I left, I took a cute little selfie in the car and sent it to him. Well I was all excited from how cute the selfie was, and when I climbed out of the car, I LOCKED MY KEYS IN THE CARRRRR FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE I WAS TWELVE.

ヽ(｡◕o◕｡)ﾉ

I haven't told him about it yet ...

I also found out that he roleplays like I do, and so I gave him my Sideblog. And when he followed me, I followed him back.

And I completely forgot that you can only follow from your main blog.

SO NOW THIS MAN CAN SEE ALL THE WEIRD THINGS I LIKE AND DO AND SEND HELP PLEASE

I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW HE WAS FOLLOWING MY MAIN BLOG UNTIL I CHECKED MY FOLLOWERS BECAUSE TUMBLR DIDN'T NOTIFY ME????

ANYWAY, this is all a really long winded way of asking you if you could please ease my embarrassment and write something between Seth and the reader involving these situations and Seth finding out from the reader about it (because my embarrassment is great for writing and I think Seth would be so amused to find out he flustered someone that much)

Thank you for the request, Lovebug!! I hope you like this :) (I have no idea what I’m doing!)

‘Call me maybe?’- Seth Clearwater Headcannon!!

• You had just so happen to meet Seth through Jacobs 17th birthday party. The conversation was very tame, introducing yourself to one another, talking about up coming events and how you liked the small, yet fun party.

• Seth was going to leave early as he had his ‘studies’ to get to. You took your shot and walked over to him, saying your goodbyes and offering to stay in touch. You had given him your personal number- not your home number, which you usually did.

• Sooner or later you guys started talking… a lot. You guys had also just so happened to share your facebooks with one another over call, friending each other. A very new app, Tumblr, was also something you guys had used to communicate. Well, at least on a fake account that is…

• On a very uneventful day, you had came home and opened up all of your social media to see if anything had happened. New friend request on Facebook? Except. Checking to see if Seth had texted you on Tumblr? Nothing. You had went to your other account that was used for your silly likings. Such as books, or movies, or even just clubs! Your heart sunk when you went through your followers for fun.

• You face bad became at least 3 shades lighter than what it was originally. As if on queue, Seth had called. You stared at your phone before picking it up and flipping it open, clicking on the call button… ‘Hello?’ Your voice ran over the line. ‘You’re into ___? Never knew!’ Seth said over the phone. Embarrassed you were. ‘Hey uh Seth, I’m going to have to hang up. I only have a few more minutes until my minutes run out and I can’t call anymore.’ You replied, almost wanting to die. ‘Huh? You said you had bought some extra minutes like… 2 days ago?’ He said confused. ‘Talk to you later, bye!’ I don’t think you’ve ever hung up the phone so fast.

• As if death had taken you by the hand, you avoided Seth, every chance you got. Of course it broke the poor boy’s heart, but over time you both overcame this little embarrassing moment, and now your telling it at your 3rd anniversary with Seth.

#twilight x you #twilight x y/n #twilight headcanon #twilight #twilight x reader #seth clearwater #seth clearwater x reader #seth Clearwater Headcannons #seth Clearwater fluff #seth clearwater fanfic #jacob black #twilight fanfiction #seth clear water x you

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stareyedmoonchildworks · 9 months

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Daminette Corpse Bride AU

Well AU-ish

Original Post

So we left off in the land of the living and learned that Marinette's groom is hoping She's not found so he doesn't have to get his hands dirty.

In comes in either Luka or Felix (whichever fits your preference) as they have known the Dupain-Cheng's for some time.

For drama purposes, they could have romantic feelings for Marinette or you go the platonic love route where they are there to see if her groom is worthy of their friend. (He's definitely not worthy.)

When they arrive, they hear the news bellower shouting out the most recent news while ringing the bell.

"EXTRA! EXTRA! The only daughter of the Dupain-chengs goes missing after disastrous rehearsal!"

That has them booking it to the bakery where both families are sitting together trying to figure out how to find Marinette.

However, they notice that it her groom seems to have no interest in finding her as he seems to be zoning everything out. That pisses them off.

After introductions are made, they ask the groom to walk with them, in the guise of finding and clues as to where Marinette could have gone.

They reach the church and go around back to see if there's anything there, and that when Luka/Felix pin her groom to the wall.

"What the hell is your problem?! Your bride is missing, and you don't seem the least bit worried! Don't you love her?! Marinette is an amazing girl, and anyone would be lucky to have her as their partner!"

"If I didn't know any better I would say you love my bride. If she's such an amazing girl as you say then why don't you marry her?" - The groom

This pisses off Luka/Felix more, resulting in the groom getting a black eye.

Now this seem entertaining to the groom, and now wants to marry Marinette out of spite. Just to rub it in their faces.

Perhaps marriage does has its benefits.

When they get back to bakery, they fawned over Marinette's groom. Which he resumed them the black eye was caused by his own clumsiness.

Luka/Felix really don't like him.

In the land of the dead:

Marinette is honestly kinda terrified, but at the same time living her best life

Ever since spending time with the Wayne family she's seen a change with herself.

She's more outgoing and relaxed around them. Especially with Damian.

She honestly thinks that perhaps if she met Damian when he was alive, she would choose to marry him instead.

Damian and Marinette spend a lot of time together. He discovers her interests, the things that make her laugh, her fears, and the fire that hides within her heart.

When he told of her of his family's demise. She didn't show sympathy but rather angled that someone would do such a thing to them. Especially after learning all the good they did for their community.

It almost looked like she was about to commit murder.

Just when he thought he couldn't fall for her anymore.

Meanwhile his family are spying from a reasonable distance. Some are even hiding in some of the coffins lying around the area.

They are so invested in this relationship. More than they should be.

"I never seen baby bird fall this hard for someone before" - Dick

"Tell me about it. He didn't even show half of the emotion he's showing her to his ex-fiance" - tim

"She could do better." - Jason

"Shut up, Jason" practically everyone in the batfam

"Fuck you!" - jason

Don't get Jason wrong her loves the "demon spawn," and loves Marinette, bit he's a realist.

He's read the vows, and come on, Damian's a dead dude.

"Till death do us part." Dpnes anyone else remember that line? No? Just him? OK then.

He really hates the fact that they are setting themselves for heartache.

One day, Marinette asks Damian why they haven't moved on yet.

He tells her it is because he knew his family was so excited to see him get married, and when it was about to happen, they all died. He wanted to make them proud, and show them that they didn't need to worry about him no more.

"Eell, if you want I could marry you." - Marinette

"I couldn't ask that of you Marinette," - Damian

"But I want to." - Marinette

Damian swears his long since dead heart skipped a beat .

They announce the wedding and Marinette says it will be upstairs.

Everyone is excited.

Cue the scean where everyone is getting ready for the wedding here.

In the land of the living

Everyone is freaking out the dead is brought back to life.

Then, realise they mean no harm. Live relatives get to spend some time with those who have long since passed.

Luka/Felix see Marinette in her wedding dress in the crowd of the dead and can't help but feel a sense of dread wash over them

Her original groom sees the Wayne family with Marinette and can't help but feel fear and anger.

At the church, the ceremony is being held when Luka/Felix come in when they said speek now or forever hold your peace woth her original groom in tow

* insert shocked wedding guests here*

A dual breaks out between luka/Felix between Damian.

Marinette's original groom hold her back to keep her from interfering. He's high-key hoping that Luka/Felix die

Some how they talk it out during the dual and Damian realizes that luka/Felix what the same thing as him; for Marinette to be happy.

He turns to Marinette, and getting a good look at her original groom, he says their name.

"Hello, Damian. It's funny seeing you and your family here when you should all be 6 feet under." - Marinette's original groom, he says, pulling out a knife and holding it up against Marinette's throat.

It is here we find out the Original Groom and his family worked for the Wayne's and where the ones to poison them.

Turns out the original groom was greedy, always wanting what he couldn't have. Thus, he manipulated his family to help him commit murder and steal the Wayne family fortune.

He fights with the Wayne's + Luka/Felix and is able to hold his own.

He tires and gives Marinette up,

congratulating her on having such great mates.

They all glare at him and watch as he drinks from the chalice that Damian told Marinette only he would drink from.

*insert dying noises here*

Everyone dead minus the the Wayne's and Alfred go to give Marinette's original groom a "warm welcome"

Spoiler: it was not welcoming at all.

Marinette hugs luka/felix as Damian watches.

Damian sees she's in good hands and can't help but feel at peace knowing that.

Turing to him, Marinette asks if he still wants to continue the wedding, but he says no.

Little my little he and his family start to turn into butterfly.

Damian then tells her that he no longer wishes to be married bow that he is happy and at peace. It is then revealed that that is why the rest of his family stayed behind.

All they wanted was to finally see him happy.

Marinette gave him a bone crushing hug which he reciprocated, and one by one the rest of his family joined in.

Marinette cries when they all disappeared, and all that was left between her arms was air.

Luka/Felix held her until she felt better.

After the event her original groom's family was held accountable as accomplices to murder.

The Dupain-Cheng bakery saw an influx of customers and were able to expand their business, with the help of Luka/Felix

Marinette happily stays single, and lives out her wildest dreams.

Maybe even adopts in the future

Alternative ending 1:

Marinette and luka/Felix spend more time together after the event

Slowly fall I'm love

Marinette is still able to live out her dreams with a supportive partner.

They get married

Alternative Ending 2:

Rather than moving on Damian and his family come back to live, able to once more walk amongst the living.

"If I had a nick for every time I died and was brought back to life, I'd have two Nicole. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it's happened twice," Jason

"The first time doesn't count as it was faked," tim

"I'm alive! How many years has it been? Do you think Barbara and Wally are older than me now or..., " Dick, just happy to be alive and able to contact friends.

Duke and Cass are smiling, happy to be alive, and for Marinette and Damian, finally able to be together.

Damian is hugging Marinette happy he is able to hold her in his arms. Happy that he can be with her

Alfred and Bruce have to interupt them, so they can formally meet Marinette's family, and press charges against her original grooms family.

A year later Marinette is walking aboung the aisle with her father.

Luka/Felix is her best man

Damian feels like he's the luckiest man in the world.

Alternative Ending 3:

The boys don't make it on time to object.

Marinette decides she'd rather be with someone eho makes her happy.

He drinks from the Chalice even though Damian tried to talk her out if it.

" I'd rather be with you in death rather than later marry someone who I can not bring myself to feel the way I do when I am with you." - Marinette

"Are you sure this is what you want?" - Damian

Marinette smiles and drinks from the chalice.

When the boys arrive, those of the dead are long gone, and so is Marinette

She and the Wayne's live happily ever after in the afterlife.

The end.

Tags:

@zalladane @draco-kasai @heldtogetherbysafetypins @emilykeys

#maribat #dc x miraculous #mlb x batman xover #maridami #mlb x dc #corpse husband #corpse bride au #daminette #honestly i got kinda lazy and some bs pop out #sorry about that #anyways it's around 4 AM where I'm at and i need sleep #or coffew #haven't decided yet #also yes Marinette lovers her parents #and she wouldn't die without them being ok #but the last bit is if she chose to be a little selfish

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kai-and-their-mess · 7 months

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Please Don't Go

Astronaut Mafuyu x Angel Mizuki

warnings for: heavy angst, character death, tragedy, ambigous endings cuz wow im bad at conclusions, and probably poor grammar. this is beta read but not edited to fix anything my beta pointed out to me.

intro: transfem Mizuki, transmasc Mafuyu. Fuyu and Yuki mostly used as names for Mafuyu. transmasc Shiho cuz cmon, have you seen? shiho? ever? thats a boy. prompt taken from @probably-not-niigo Link to the original post found here. the last time i wrote for public consumption was years ago so if POV is sloppy or nothing is capitalized or some of the sentence structure is strange: no it isnt 💕

THIS HAS TWO ENDINGS. neither of which are strictly happy, but one is bittersweet cuz i couldnt finish this until i came up with a "happier" ending.

There wasn't a single doubt in his mind that this was dangerous, sadly past trauma meant that Yuki was the only one 'brave' enough to do this. as the crew flew around in their ship, they had gotten a notification that there some damage to the exterior. Fuyu, who isn't at all the engineer, was on his way to see the damage. the actual engineer, some dude named Shiho, refused to fix the issue unless he knew more about what was wrong.

Fuyu understood his hesitation. they were passing by an asteroid storm right now. but they didn't know how bad the damage was, and they couldn't see it on any of the cameras either. the crew had no clue how bad it was and that's why they were sending Yuki out. if it was minor, they would wait until it was safer to fix it, if it was major, Shiho would take the tools he needed and fix it as fast as he could.

But they wouldn't know unless someone went to look. so Fuyu put on his spacesuit, double and triple checked the oxygen tank and once the necessary safety gear was attached, he was ready to head out. "Again, be fast but be safe, we'll be able to communicate through the walkie installed in the suit, if anything goes wrong, we'll pull you in fast as we can. just…. stay safe, be aware of your surroundings" Shiho rambles to Yuki, worry in his voice as Yuki silently nods along.

"I'll be quick, don't worry." Fuyu speaks aloud to reassure Shiho but also for himself. something in his gut just told him he shouldn't go out there, but he didn't really have much of a choice. resolve firmed Yuki steps forward into the airlock. the first door closing behind him as he does. he feels what he can only assume is a wave of anxiety wash over him as he stares at the second door, the vastness of space behind it.

when Fuyu first became an astronaut, it was because of his fascination with the stars, the way that it was so empty yet so full of life, energy. it was, literally, as far away from his mom as he could possibly be. but it was also so fulfilling, so fun. so why then was all that magic and joy missing? why was there anxiety in his gut? where was that usual excitement? Yuki found himself suddenly…unwilling.

he shakes his head. it's just a quick trip to check the hull and then right back inside. not giving himself more room to procrastinate he presses the airlock button and the door in front of him slowly starts to open. one hand firmly on his tether he works his way outside, maneuvering carefully to the area that's damaged. it wasn't super bad outside. the asteroids weren't too close to him, it felt safe this close to the ship but still he made sure to keep an eye out just in case.

meanwhile, out of sight a young angel watches, brows furrowed with concern, stress. she had hoped and done her best to send warnings but still Yuki had left the ship. Mizuki was beside herself. she had been put in charge of Yuki, she considered herself his guardian angel despite her having yet to pass the test to officially become a guardian. she was an observer right now. her job was to just watch, not intervene.

but she had… "borrowed" Yuki's book from his real guardian angel and knowing what she knew, how could she just watch? Yuki was going to die. it said so in the book. the book described every event from Yuki's life right down to when and how he brushed his teeth, there was a few possibilities for each choice he could make. but there was no avoiding this. there was no possibility of Yuki surviving this. once he stepped out his fate was as good as sealed.

but Mizuki couldn't accept that. she tried everything. even going as far as to try and influence his feelings. it didn't stop him, but it did alter the book. she groaned, watching closely as Yuki floated. part of her still hoped it wouldn't happen, but she knew that wasn't the case. helpless, she watched the young man, putting all her hopes into her heart Mizuki found herself passively wishing that she'd birth a miracle, right here, right now as she wandered off. things to do, places to see.

for Yuki, nothing had felt different, he was focused on his task, and almost to the damaged spot too. after a few more moments it comes into view. an asteroid had struck, not a big one, it seemed, but it had exposed some wiring on the side of the ship. Yuki presses a button on his collar and speaks "hey. I'm at the damage site. a small asteroid must have hit us, there's a panel missing, and some wiring exposed." there's a pause before Shiho's voice filters through the walkie.

"Got it. we can fix that once we're out of this asteroid storm. return to us." Yuki nods, though no one's around to see it and starts to follow the tether back. when he's about halfway there the ship shakes violently, bumping into Yuki, who stayed close to the hull, and sending him away from the ship. Yuki closes his eyes when the ship first shakes, gripping onto the tether the whole time. he slowly opens his eyes to see darkness.

the ship seems almost impossibly far. Yuki tugs on his tether and it goes taunt. whatever hit the ship sent him to the limits of his tether, he'd have to be careful. he pushes the button on his collar again "hey, what happened? are you guys okay? is the ship okay?" it takes a few moments for anyone to answer so while he waits Fuyu starts carefully guiding himself back to the other end of the tether.

to his relief the speaker on the walkie talkie sparks to life and a voice is heard "Yuki? good to hear your voice. the ship was hit by an asteroid, it knocked us off course but we're all safe. there's major damage to the hull now though… I'm going to have to try and fix that if we want to make it to our destination safely." Shiho's voice is hard to hear over the alarm in the background, there's others talking in the background. everyone must be worried.

"I'm on my way back" Yuki responds simply. "Stay safe" Shiho's response is short but it feels warm. sighing, Yuki starts on his way again, the ship growing closer as he moves. it feels like quicksand today, almost like space doesn't want to let him go. he does his best to move fast but it's hard to do so when you have no means of propelling yourself forward. Yuki isn't sure how long it takes before he's close to the ship but it feels like an hour.

it's probably been closer to 20 minutes. all of a sudden something out of the corner of his eye makes him freeze. eyes wide, heart stopped. slowly, his hand comes up to his collar and he presses the button "Shiho…. I... I don't think I can get back" it was moving too fast. the asteroid. He knew that if it was this close, there wasn't a thing he could do to avoid it. he hears Shiho respond. kind of. he definitely heard Shiho's voice, but the words were lost on him.

fear gripping his heart Yuki closes his eyes. he's never felt so scared so suddenly. he feels the asteroid more than anything, a perverse feeling of heat and cold consumes Fuyu. if this is what death is like at least its fast. after what feels like a lifetime the feeling leaves him. he slowly opens his eyes and is greeted by the darkness of space. distant stars shine in somewhere far off, but instead of relief at being alive all Yuki can process is dread.

the tether is cut. the tether is cut, and among all those stars, glittering and sparkling in this distance, is his ship. too far to reach, especially at the full mercy of space. not knowing what else to do. he laughs. it's a pain-stricken sound, gasping, sobbing, heart wrenching. all those times he thought 'I want to die' all those times he thought 'I want to disappear' he never could have imagined it would end like this.

he doesn't know how long he cries for, or how much time passed between his last contact. but like a fever dream, Shiho's voice is heard. panic and worry clear in the man's tone. "Yuki, Yuki! respond! fuck, say something!!! shit!" another laugh bubbles up, it's just so. funny. taking a breath, he steadies his breathing as much as he can before radioing in. "I'm… still here" a loud sigh is heard, and Yuki does his best to ground himself.

he'll need to be able to think if he wants to try and make it back. "I'm…sorry Yuki. we can't turn to come get you until I fix the hull. you should have about an hour of oxygen in the tank. I'm already on my way to fix it." Yuki chuckles, against his will. "No… I won't… the tether broke. you guys won't be able to find me." the line goes silent before Shiho responds again. It almost sounds like he's crying. "I'm…. really, really sorry, Yuki." Fuyu nods, it's no one's fault.

"One last request. Shiho... can you say to me; 'Mafuyu, you did a good job here.' and then…. can you disconnect my walkie from our closed circuit..?" It had been years since he so much as thought of his deadname, but he needed this. there's a long sigh from the other end of the line, but Shiho reluctantly complies. "Mafuyu, you did a good job here." there's a small pause as Shiho inhales, having more to say. "Thank you for your bravery, for everything you've done during this voyage. you'll be remembered with the highest honors…. captain and engineer Shiho Hinomori signing off" Fuyu whispers a small barely audible 'thank you' as the line goes dead for the last time.

it may have seemed cold or callused to just disconnect like that, but Shiho was the only other realist on the crew. he wouldn't try and comfort Yuki with false empty promises and reassurances. they both knew the odds of being able to get back the ship was really low, there was no point trying to deny that. but at lease he could have a bit of comfort as he accepts his fate. not having anything else today he 'lays down'.

letting himself just float in the nothingness of space. his face still wet with tears, unable to dry because of the space suit. Yuki finds himself wondering if, somehow, his mom knew something like this would happen. it makes him laugh a little, it's a dry, melancholy sound. his headaches a little. he's not sure if it's from the fit of hysterics or from lack of oxygen.

the stars become too painful after a few moments, their freedom and ability to thrive in this situation feeling almost mocking. he closes his eyes, waiting. for what? he's not sure. but maybe, for once, he'd be able to imagine. just an alternate world where things went right, where he didn't get lost in space. where he found happiness and love and just lived a boring life in a house he owned.

that's when he hears it. a voice as sweet as kittens, singing with power and intensity to rival the gets used to get him into space. the song is soothing, though he has no clue what language it is. it's comforting, warmth blooms slowly in his gut and creeps through his body. taking a deep breath, he opens his eyes. floating there, inches from his face was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.

the sight of her alone was enough to steal his breath away, mesmerized by her. she had long pink hair that, to him, seemed to trail off into infinity, her body glowed with a soft light. she wore this milky pink colored dress that hugged her torso and ended with a frilly skirt. from her back sprouted a pair of huge wings, seeming to have glitter woven into the white feathers. Yuki didn't dare move, what if she was just a hallucination? what if interacting with her meant doom for him? not wanting to be alone again he stayed still and listened to her sing.

when her song was finished, she opened her eyes to reveal pink, glittering orbs that bore into him with a look of affection? or maybe admiration? "it's such a pleasure to meet you" the girl speaks, startling Fuyu out of his stupor. "My name is Mizuki, I'm... here to keep you company." for a while, Yuki says nothing. he only speaks when the smile starts to slip of Mizukis face, for some reason, he doesn't want her to be sad.

"Am…I going to die out here?" the question surprises even him. Mizuki hesitates for a long while, her voice tinged with sadness as she speaks.

"that's… what's fated, yes. but! I'm an angel!" she states this fact proudly, and for a moment Yuki feels a bit of hope. but. there's no way she's real. it's just a comforting hallucination in his last moments. there's no way angels could possibly be real. but he would humor this hallucination.

"So, you're going to save me?" Mizuki knew deep down that she shouldn't. she couldn't. not without offering up something in exchange. but the price would be so steep. she couldn't waste too much time, though. the longer she took the less time they had. but what could she do to save him? what could she give that would be enough to repay her disobedience?

"I…." her voice is hesitant. she has about less than 30 minutes. "I… yes. I'm here to save you" she smiles, her voice becoming more sure as she speaks- "I'm here to save you, Yuki. don't worry. help will come. until then, I'll sit with you." Mafuyu stares at her, not sure if she was being honest or not.

hell, he wasn't even sure if she was fucking real. this whole thing- it was insane. but hey, it was the end of his world. so, what the hell? letting out a soft sigh he reaches out to grasp at her hand. "Please don't go" he speaks. not sure if she can even hear him through his space suit. regardless, she grabs his hand and holds it tightly in both of hers. he watches as Mizuki closes her eyes again, singing another song. warmth envelopes Yuki once more and he smiles.

(Here is where the ending splits!!! You can stop here if youd prefer for this to be the canon ending. as for the actual endings themselves you can find ending one here and ending two here hope you enjoy!)

#project sekai #project sekai colorful stage #akiyama mizuki #mizuki akiyama #asahina mafuyu #mafuyu asahina #mafumizu #mizumafu #transfem mizuki #transmasc mafuyu #shiho hinomori #transmasc shiho #angst #heavy angst #fan fiction #fanfic #character death #implied character death

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