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janaispunk · 2 months

Text

i can see the end as it begins

chapter 1 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: You meet your father’s new friend for the first time, but he’s a lot different than you expected.

word count: ~5k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad isn’t a nice person), able-bodied reader, reader has hair, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, unprotected p in v, semi-public sex, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, spanking, pet names, let me know if i missed anything 🫶🏻

a/n: my favorite person on this app @joelscurls planted the idea of dbf!dave in both our heads and after many many feral dms, porn gifs, plotting and just generally freaking out, we have finally managed to put the first chapter together :) we’re currently planning with 4 chapters in total that we’re gonna take turns posting, so go follow jess if you don’t already (criminal behavior tbh)! i’m beyond excited to be able to do this with someone whose writing i adore sooo much, we’re both beyond excited about this story, and we hope that you enjoy it 🫶🏻

follow @joelscurlsupdates and @janaispunknotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics!

“I want a divorce.”

It’s been almost a year since Carol spoke those words into the tense silence of their dining room and they still echo in Dave’s mind as if it happened yesterday.

He doesn’t mourn the marriage, doesn’t miss Carol, not in the way he probably should. But he mourns the life that he had, the perfect suburban family, the stability. A little boring maybe, but safe, calming. Predictable.

And he misses his girls. He misses the sound of small feet on the hardwood-floor greeting him as soon as he opened the front door, giggly exclamations of “Daddy’s home!” and tiny hands grabbing at him, begging to be picked up. Now he opens the door to an empty, silent apartment. He has them every second weekend, which he rationally knows makes the most sense with his often irregular working hours, but it’s simply not enough. It’s like time is constantly running through his fingers and he just can’t make it stop, can’t bring his life back under control.

He’s doing what he can to keep himself busy, anything to keep his mind occupied and his thoughts from spiraling into that pit of loneliness that he’s found himself in. He started reconnecting with friends, going out with his colleagues and contacting people from his army days that he hasn’t spoken to in years, trying to build a social life outside of his family and the neighbors that he no longer lives next to.

It’s tedious, making him realize that he really doesn’t like people all that much, but it’s better than spending his evenings by himself and wondering where things went so awfully wrong.

He spends a lot of time with Jim, one of the guys that trained with him and that he always got along with rather well. Jim was delighted when Dave called, promptly inviting him to join him at golf the next day, which somehow turned into a weekly event on Dave’s schedule. It’s nice enough, giving him some sense of routine and he finds that he’s rather good at it. Jim runs his own company by now, the thing that he invests all of his time in, which got him a lot of money, but also a divorce.

It’s all he talks about, too, but it’s fine with Dave, not being forced to contribute that much to the conversation – because really, there’s not much worth mentioning happening in his life anyway – and he’s content to just nod along and hum in agreement most of the time.

Jim has a daughter too, a lot older than Dave’s though, already out of the house, attending law school. He can tell that Jim is proud when he talks about her, but it always seems to be connected to achievements, an underlying pressure to their relationship that leaves Dave a little uneasy and he silently vows to himself to never apply any sort of conditions to his love for his daughters.

But he's never met the young woman and he probably never will, so he doesn’t dwell on it, because what does it matter to him, really?

You huff a sigh as the familiar sight of the country club that your father loves to frequent comes into view and hand the Uber driver a tip before sliding out of the car.

You had thought you’d be getting a night out with your Dad, just the two of you, a rare occurrence. Not that you had been particularly looking forward to being grilled about law school, your grades, networking and internship opportunities, but at least he would be listening to you, paying attention. Joking that he was making sure that the money he put into your education was well invested, a joke that felt less funny every time you were reminded just how financially dependent you were on your father.

If the topic of conversation wasn’t school, it was what kind of acquaintances you’ve made, if maybe you’d met a guy with good connections, someone who could introduce you to the right people. Cautionary warnings not to get involved with the wrong sort, not to get on the wrong track.

Just once, you would like to talk about if you were enjoying school, what living on your own was like, how you got along with your roommate, the fun times you had with your girlfriends, anything about your life that wasn’t somehow connected to success or keeping up appearances. But your relationship wasn’t like that. He didn’t care about these sorts of things, he never had.

You continuously swallowed down the heavy feeling of envy in your stomach when your friends talked about their parents, painting a picture of unconditional love and support that was foreign to you, telling yourself that everything was fine the way it was.

“I invited Dave to join us tomorrow,” he then told you yesterday morning, offhandedly, sipping his coffee and his eyes already glued to his phone. You nodded silently, forcing your lips into something that resembled a smile. He had mentioned someone named Dave before, an old friend from his army days that he had recently reconnected with, if you remembered correctly. It didn’t matter, really, your father’s countless acquaintances blurred into a mix of vaguely familiar faces in your head anyway. If you had mixed feelings about the evening plans before, this new development made it clear that you wouldn’t partake in the conversation much, just smile politely, sit pretty and let the grown ups talk.

Steeling yourself, you walk in, your heels clicking against the floor. After spotting your dad almost immediately and waving in his direction, you make a beeline for the bar. He was sitting alone, you think, furrowing your brow in thought. You’re running a little late yourself, maybe that Dave guy couldn’t make it? You don’t hate the idea of that.

Dave had been reluctant to come out tonight, couldn’t help the feeling that he was intruding on his friend’s father-daughter time, something that he was desperate to have more of, but Jim had insisted.

“Lots of women you could meet there!”

He had scoffed under his breath, not able to picture himself meeting someone new, going through the motions of getting to know them, opening up, adjusting his routine to someone else’s again. He could much less picture himself meeting a woman he’d be interested in at a fucking country club of all places. Eventually, the thought of another evening in his silent and empty apartment with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company made him accept anyway.

He’s drumming his fingers against the polished wooden bar, waiting to pick up the second round of beers for Jim and himself, when someone slides up to the counter beside him. He glances over, eyes focusing in on the woman who is studying the drinks menu.

He feels an inexplicable pull towards her, couldn’t look away again even if he tried. She’s beautiful, he thinks as he takes in her features in the soft warm light, lingering on the shape of her lips, before his gaze trails down her body, over the short black dress that’s clinging to her in the most enticing way. She’s also younger than him; too young, the responsible part of his mind argues. Not the kind of woman that he should be interested in meeting. He still can’t look away.

“Evening.” The greeting comes out before he can stop himself. She looks up, a hint of annoyance on her pretty face, but her gaze softens as her eyes meet his. A smirk plays on her lips.

“Hi.” Her eyes flicker down his own body and up again, something akin to excitement taking over her expression. He’s rusty, hasn’t done this in ages, but her interest is palpable, and it shoots a thrill of pleasure through him.

“I’m David,” he introduces himself. No one has called him David in… god knows how long, but it feels better than Dave in this moment, right somehow. Like he can be a different person, just for a little while.

“Pleasure,” she grins, tells him her name and shakes his hand, her eyes glinting in the warm lights of the bar. Her touch on his skin, even just his hand, is like electricity is flowing through the air between them. She feels so soft and his life has been so devoid of softness lately that he has to force himself to let go of her hand again.

Something tugs at the back of his mind, like this name should ring a bell, but he shoves the thought aside. He’s too busy picturing himself taking her home this evening, imagining how soft her skin would feel in other places, how she would look splayed out underneath him on his sheets, how her breath would sound when he–

“I’ve never seen you around here before, are you new?” her melodic voice interrupts the vivid daydream playing in his mind. She has taken a step towards him and hints of the sweet notes of her perfume are beginning to surround the air around him. It’s getting a little hard to think straight.

“I– yes. First time actually,” he laughs and delights in the way her face lights up at the sound. “You come here a lot, then?” The cliché line makes him want to cringe, but she doesn’t falter, only shrugs and lets her eyes slowly trail down his body once more, obviously wanting him to notice.

“Depends. I might be here more often if it means I get to see you.”

She reaches out until her fingers softly graze his wrist and it demands a great amount of willpower not to take her home right this instant.

The heartbeat in your chest is thrumming along to the butterflies that are erupting in your stomach. You’ve never been this bold, too shy to flirt at all most of the time, but the stranger in front of you is clouding your sense of judgment and has your insecurities flying right out of the window. His interest is written over his face clear as day and you feel an immediate pull towards him that you can’t explain.

He’s so handsome that your hands are itching to touch him more, to find out if he’s as broad and solid as is large frame suggests, if that jawline would feel as strong under your fingertips as it looks, and if his deep brown eyes would soften before you press your lips against his. No wedding ring either, you note in the back of your mind, sending another surge of excitement through you.

The fact that he seems old enough to be your father, something that your therapist would probably have a few words to say about, is only adding to the arousal that’s coursing through your veins. You want him.

You almost jump when your drinks arrive in front of you; you had all but forgotten where you are, and that you’re very much in eyesight of your actual father. Suddenly, you feel silly, reality catching up to you. Surely he was just being nice and you read way too much into it, making a fool of yourself.

“Well, I–I’ll see you around then.” You hastily grab your glass and are ready to make a run for it, when his large hand wraps around your elbow.

“Looking forward to it,” he purrs, before he takes the two beers off the counter in front of him.

Awkwardness slowly sets in when you start walking in the same direction, but it doesn’t fully hit you until you both stop at the same table, your father beaming up at you.

“Sweetheart, you already met Dave I see, that’s great. Come, sit!”

You’re frozen, stupidly blinking between your father and the man beside you a few times. The man who introduced himself as David.

David. Dave. Oh. Oh.

“Y–yeah,” you stutter out eventually and plaster a smile on your face as you take a seat beside your dad. David looks just as dumbstruck as you feel when he slides into the chair opposite from you, quietly handing one of the beers over to your dad. His friend.

Your father launches into a story about their army days together and you’re nodding along, but not one word actively registers in your brain. The conversation eventually moves on to your dad’s recent work projects, the majority of the talking done by him, with the occasional question from David, while you’re silently sipping on your drink.

The initial embarrassment of the whole situation makes you want to sink down into the ground, but still you can’t keep your eyes from flicking to David again and again. They linger on his lips, constantly in a pout that you would give anything to feel against yours, the slight shadow of stubble on his cheeks at the end of the day that you know would scratch against your skin so deliciously, the way his hand dwarfs his beer on the table, thick fingers that could stretch– No. No, you’re not going there.

Your cheeks are burning and you stare down at the tabletop in front of you.

When your gaze lifts back up, David’s eyes are already trained on you, glinting like he knows exactly what you’ve been thinking about. You reluctantly look back at your father, who’s still rambling on about some big client that he’s currently dealing with, completely oblivious to the charged energy between his friend and you.

David shifts in his seat and his leg bumps against yours under the table. You grasp your drink tighter, forcing yourself not to react in any way, but you don’t move away either. Neither does he. You shoot him a look and the hint of a smirk plays around his mouth. He looks too damn good like this, so excitingly wrong in a way that makes your pulse flutter.

It feels like you’re burning up from inside and as little attention as your dad is paying to you, you’re certain that he’s gonna notice that something is off with you eventually. You hastily scramble to your feet and excuse yourself to the bathroom. You feel David’s eyes on you as you walk away until you’re out of sight.

The cool water that you run over your wrists and splash onto your cheeks does a poor job of calming you down. Stupid, stupid, stupid, you admonish yourself. It’s certainly not more than a tiny bit of flirting to him, if at all, just some harmless fun to amuse himself probably, and you’re getting this worked up about it.

No. You need to get out of this situation. You’re gonna walk back out there, make something up about a headache and catch a cab home. It will probably earn you a lecture about politeness later in the evening, but you’ll gladly take that.

When you approach the table again, your dad is just getting off his phone, his expression already far away. You know that look all too well, being subjected to it almost daily.

“Work emergency?” you ask, without a real question behind your words.

“Yeah,” he grumbles, getting up, barely looking at you, already all business. “Sorry, I gotta get to the office, Dave will drive you home. Right, Dave?”

Your eyes fly to David and you catch him swallowing hard, but he nods regardless, lips quirking up in a forced smile. “Of course.”

You both silently watch your father’s retreating back, already speaking into his phone again. The fabric of Dave’s pants ghosts against your bare leg below the table once more. You wish it were his fingers instead.

You hadn’t anticipated to be alone with him and all the reasonable thoughts that you’ve come up with in the privacy of the bathroom are wiped from your mind. It feels like you’re buzzing, a rush of excitement thrumming through your veins, like your body knows that you’re on the brink of doing something really stupid and really fucking tempting.

“I’m sorry, about earlier,” you murmur, looking up at him through your lashes. He smirks, a knowing glint in his eyes as he takes in your expression. He still hasn’t moved his leg.

“I don’t think you are.”

Your stomach swoops at his words. You bite your lip. He wouldn’t be acting like this if he didn’t want you, would he? His eyes dart to your lips at the movement and darken. Fuck it.

“No, I’m not.” You pray that he doesn’t catch the slight tremble in your voice. He’s fucking intimidating and this is wrong on so many levels and you want him so badly to want you.

The tension between you is a palpable thing, almost making it hard to breathe when he leads you out of the club, his hand at the small of your back and causing you to shiver. Will he really just drive you home? Will he say something, do something, touch you more? You don’t know how to ask for any of it and desperately wish that he’ll take the reins, that somehow he already knows what you want. You have a feeling that he does.

He opens his car door for you, another thing that really shouldn’t affect you this much, before he walks around the vehicle and gets in beside you. You catch a hint of his cologne in the confined space and press your thighs together before you can stop yourself. Your heart is racing and you just know that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

He clears his throat. “We gotta stop at my place, I have some paperwork that I’d like your–” He interrupts himself, his grip on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles are white, “that I’d like Jim to look over for me.”

You nod, a small hum leaving your throat. The implication of going to his place has you reeling. He nods back, stealing a glance at you before he starts the car. You can’t help watching him as he drives, the subtle control that he exudes, the way the muscles on his thighs are flexing underneath the fabric of his pants. He looks over at you a few times, and you don’t have it in yourself to pretend that your eyes aren’t glued to him.

“See something you like?” he asks eventually, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Yeah,” you answer, so breathless it’s embarrassing and you shift a little in your seat. Your dress rides up at the movement, revealing more skin, and his eyes fly down instantly.

“Me too,” he rasps.

When he stops the car in front of his building, you decide that it’s time to be brave.

“Do you want me to come up with you?”

“No,” his answer comes instantly. His tone isn’t cold, but determined, not to be argued with.

“Oh.” Your cheeks are heating up again. You hate how small your voice sounds. “I thought–”

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, avoiding your gaze.

“I can’t. You’re– You know why. You know I can’t.”

“I don’t care. I’m an adult, I can do what I want.”

He shakes his head, still not looking at you.

“Sweetheart, stop. Trust me, I want to, but–”

“Please?” You’re begging, no dignity left in you, only want want want. “Just one time. Please, David?”

His eyes fly up to your face at that. You can see the shift, the way his expression hardens, turning into something feral that has heat growing between your legs.

“Just one time,” he repeats, his voice dark with desire, no longer trying to conceal it.

His hands find your thighs, grabbing at you roughly, moving you until you’re in his lap, legs spread wide, his breath fanning against your lips. One hand is in your hair, the other gliding under the hem of your dress, his touch turning you into a trembling mess.

“This is what you want?” he growls, the grip in your hair tightening. You don’t think that you’ve ever wanted anything as much as this.

“Please,” you whine again, and he presses forward, lips clashing against yours, the kiss all tongue and teeth and desperate need and you’re melting into him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his hands all over you now, grabbing at your dress, your skin, any place he can reach.

Your mouth travels over his cheek and down to his neck, sucking kisses and bites into his skin. The stubble scratches against your face just like you thought it would and you start working on the buttons of his shirt with trembling fingers, rolling your hips, desperate for friction. His grip steadies you, pulling down the neckline of your dress, kissing along the lace of your bra before he pulls the cups down too. A groan rises up in his throat as he cups your tits, thumbs circling over your already hardened nipples before he leans forward and sucks one into his mouth.

“Fucking perfect,” he rasps, breath hot against your damp skin. You arch into his touch and he chuckles, sucking on the bud again before he bites down, eliciting a loud moan from you. His touch travels up your thighs, leaving a burning trail behind, until his fingertips rub over the soaked fabric of your panties and you gasp at the barely-there touch.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, pressing down harder. “Already dripping for me, huh? You want it that bad?”

You nod eagerly, pushing down onto his fingers.

“Alright.” He sounds just as wrecked as you feel. He starts undoing his belt buckle and his pants and you lift up just enough to allow him to shove them down his hips.

At the first glance at his cock, your mouth falls open, a silent breath escaping you. He’s big, certainly the biggest you’ve ever had, and maybe you should think about how you’ll take all of him inside of you, but you find yourself craving him, craving the stinging stretch, craving the feeling of being as close as possible to him.

“Don’t worry.” He seems mildly amused, catching your lips in another kiss. “We’ll make it fit.”

Another shudder runs through your body at this. “I’m not worried,” you admit in a whisper.

He laughs at that, a breathless sound that you instantly want to hear again.

“Good.”

He pulls your underwear to the side and thrusts one thick finger up into your slick heat without warning. His thumb rubs around your clit and you already feel an orgasm creeping up on you. He adds a second finger, his rhythm relentless, and you cry out, grabbing his shoulders, trying to steady yourself, but it’s pointless. You’re already clenching, so close to the edge, when he pulls out of you and fixes you with a hard glare.

“Not yet. You’re only gonna come on my cock tonight, understood?”

You want to scream, want his fingers back, but you realize that you also want this authority, want him to take control, to take whatever he wants from you. It’s a heady feeling, one that you’ve never experienced before, but you’re already desperate for more.

“Okay,” you agree, and his responding smirk is enough for another wave of wetness to gather between your legs.

With one steadying hand securely on your hip, he leans over to the glovebox, mumbling about protection, but you stop him, fingers looping around his wrist.

“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean, I promise. You don’t need–”

He leans back, the grip on your hip tightening again.

“Fuck sweetheart, are you sure?”

You nod quickly, another “please” falling from your lips.

The grin on his face is downright feral as he hikes your dress up higher, eyes raking over your body. You’re sure that you look a mess, all intimate parts of you on display, your skin damp with sweat, your hair a wild nest. You curl in on yourself a little, but David won’t have any of that.

“Hey,” he growls, fingers digging into your thighs. “If I’m gonna do this, you’re gonna look at me and beg for it, are we clear?”

You lift your head, wide eyes searching his. Desperate to do what he asks, desperate for his approval. He’s gorgeous in the low lights, his cheeks flushed, a thin sheen of sweat covering his face and chest.

“Please,” you whine. “Please David, I need you.”

His movements turn frantic at your words, moving you around until you’re positioned just above him, your panties pulled to the side, the head of his cock nudging at your entrance, already soaking him.

“Just one time?” he rasps once more.

“Just one time,” you agree. You’d agree to anything right now.

He pulls you down slowly, beginning to part your walls. You whine loudly at the stretch. It burns, but you relish in the feeling of getting filled by him, and his responding groan has your lips pulling up in a smile.

You keep sinking down, moving until he’s completely sheathed inside you and your eyes fall shut at the overwhelming sensation. His fingers are on your chin in an instant, giving your head a light shake.

“Nuh-uh, eyes right here, sweetheart,” he reminds you, gritting the words out. He twitches inside you and you force your eyelids to open again.

“Feels so good,” you whine, your voice reduced to a broken, breathless thing, but then he starts moving and you’re not able to form words any longer.

He rolls his hips up into you and you meet his thrusts with your own movements, clinging to his shoulders for dear life. His hands are everywhere, digging into your hips, pinching your nipples, gripping your chin whenever your eyes are starting to slip closed again.

So you keep your gaze obediently on him, your eyes locked, delighting in the way his face scrunches up in pleasure, in the sounds that are falling from his lips, matching your own.

“Good girl, taking me so fucking well,” he groans, his hand connecting with your ass in a light slap. An obscenely loud moan escapes you in response and you clench around him, more wetness covering his length and your thighs.

He stills and leans back to take in your heated face and blown pupils, an amused smirk forming on his face. “You liked that, huh?”

You nod, once again unable to meet his eye.

“Hey,” he demands, his fingers grabbing your face again. “Eyes on me, remember?”

Your gaze reluctantly trails up and his smirk grows.

“So…” he drawls, slowly picking up his thrusts again, “what exactly did you like, huh? When I called you a good girl… or when I did this?”

He smacks your ass again and you grind down onto him almost instinctively. You’re burning up in shame, but you obediently hold his gaze.

“B–both,” you whisper, in disbelief that you’re admitting this to him, but you feel too good to hold back now.

“Fuck,” he growls, his movements speeding up and his grip on your hips bordering on painful, “knew you were a dirty little thing.”

Another slap lands on your skin, harder than before, at the same time that he thrusts deep into you. The combined sensations are enough to throw you over the edge that you had been teetering on since he first touched you and you scream out his name as you fall apart.

He holds your shaking body close, cock grinding into you as you pulse around him and he groans, burying his face in your neck, spilling his own release deep inside of you.

“Fucking perfect,” he whispers, mouth pressing against your skin. “Can’t believe that you let me–”

You barely make out the words, ecstasy still coursing through your veins, but you lean into him, holding onto his broad shoulders, feeling like his body is the only real thing in your world right now.

You stay like this, entangled in each other’s embrace until your breaths even out and he carefully lifts your face, pressing one more kiss against your lips. It hits you suddenly, that this might be the last kiss that you share with him. Just one time, right?

He helps you to properly put your clothes back on, supporting your weight as you slink back into the passenger seat, before he pulls his pants back on and jogs up to his apartment to gather the paperwork for your father.

Your father. His friend. Fuck. Now that the lust-induced haze has lifted a bit and you’re able to think more clearly again, the weight of tonight’s events starts crashing down on you. He would kill you. He can’t know, no one can.

Dave returns within minutes, his brow furrowed as he takes you in. You think that he clocks the growing panic that is probably written all over your face. He reaches for your hand, slowly enough that you could retract it if you wanted to, but you long for his touch, for the reassurance of it.

“You alright?” he asks softly.

“Yeah.” You nod, trying to convince yourself as much as him.

He nods back, not prying, which you are grateful for, and starts the car, making his way over to your house. Your hand still clasped in his. Both your release and his pooling in your panties.

You only let go of him when he pulls into the driveway and kills the engine. You don’t think that your dad checks the footage from the security cameras regularly, but it’s a risk that you’re not willing to take.

“Thank you,” you mumble, once again unable to meet his eyes. “I– I had a great night.”

He smiles, appearing more relaxed than he’d been all evening.

“Me too, sweetheart. Good night.” You feel his eyes on you as you walk up to the door.

You shower, reluctantly washing away all traces of the evening and crawl into bed. You still feel his hands on your skin, the sensation following you into your dreams.

When the morning comes, hushed promises of just one time echo in your head, but the desire to do it again, for more, is burning through your body, consuming your thoughts.

“Hey Dad,” you ask, stepping into his office where he’s brooding over documents, “I think I left my jacket in Dave’s car, could you give me his number? Maybe I can go pick it up.”

if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending in an ask – it’s really the thing that keeps writers going :)

#fic: wildest dreams #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #dave york smut #pedrostories #dave york fanfiction #dave york fic #dbf!dave york

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macfrog · 8 months

Text

call me

idea came to me in a dream. enjoy also! i made a notifs blog! taglist life is NOT for me, babies. feel free to head on over, follow and turn notifs on to be updated anytime i post! 👉 @macfroglets 👈 you’re gonna wanna do it before this sunday…😉🤠

inspired by @bageldaddy who is the author of the dreamiest series on this site, my biggest crush, and also told me not to tag her but i respect my elders so.

pairing: joel miller x call girl!reader

summary: you moonlight as a call girl, receiving mediocre call after mediocre call. one night, one joel miller dials in, and grants you the most exciting ten minutes of your career

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) this fic is pro-sex work. reader is a phone sex operator, mentions of anal and oral, dirty talk, couple mentions of daddy, praise kink, mutual masturbation, alcohol consumption, cursing

word count: 3k

main masterlist

“What now, baby?” you whisper, laughing to yourself. You’re palming at your breast, your fingers pulling in around your nipple. Your core begins to throb. “You’re gonna touch yourself.” “That what you want?” “’s what I want, angel. Do it for me.”

It started out as a joke, if you’re being honest.

A wine-drunk night with Liv, sat at opposite ends of the couch, legs intertwined somewhere in the middle of the cushions. Her blouse was stained pink – your fault, apparently, for making her laugh too hard. Her glass tilted a fraction too far and before you knew it, you owed her a new shirt.

“Say it again, say it how he said it,” she snorted, patting her chest down with the damp towel you’d handed her.

“…quite frankly, disappointed with your performance,” your head tilted back and forth, mocking the nasally voice of your fifty-one-year-old, receding-hairline-equipped boss. Ex-boss. Asshole.

“Oh, fuck,” she heaved, still catching her breath. “That’s so fucking funny.”

You sighed in agreement.

“So…what are you actually gonna do now?”

You shrugged. “Sell my body.”

“Dare you.”

“I would.”

“I know you would. And you’d be good at it, too. ‘s why I’m telling you to do it.”

You kicked her ankle. “I got bills to pay, dude.”

“What about one of those call girls?”

And, well. That was that.

You’d googled it after seeing her off to her own apartment, watching her wobbly form stagger across the hall and stab her key a few times into the wood before it landed in the lock. The door closed with an accidental slam which echoed up the stone stairwell, and you crept back to your own place.

Palms either side of your laptop on the counter, face lit in a blue glow, dripdripdrip of your busted tap echoing around your dark kitchen. They asked for an email address – you used the one you’d made up before you realized email addresses were permanent – and a phone number. Said someone would call you to discuss it. You shrugged, hit Sign up and went to bed.

Within hours, you’d spoken to some sharp-accented woman who asked quick, snappy questions and uhuhed her way through your answers. Her name was Erica. She told you she’d look after you, told you to call her with any questions or concerns you had.

All she wanted from you were the basics: you liked sex, you masturbated, you knew how to dirty talk. You sorta knew your way around things like anal, and could manage a convincing pitch for things of a more…exploratory nature.

And then she asked when you wanted to start. You told her that night.

Your first caller – like, ever – was some guy with a midwestern accent who asked you to narrate fucking him. Like, spanking him with a paddle, calling him a bad, bad boy. You threw your nerves to the wind and went along with it, and honestly, had a pretty rad time. He was cool.

But one was enough for your first night. You logged out and went to bed. You told Liv the next morning, and she punched your arm a little too hard and yelled, That’s my fuckin’ girl! Was it hot? Did you…y’know?

No. You never get that lucky. Some calls you can lie idly on your couch and let your limp hand surf beneath the hem of your underwear, push lazy circles against your clit as the dude moans in your ear or gasps when you whine.

Sometimes their mics can pick up the faint sound of them jacking off, and your brain slips you an image that makes your stomach flutter. Sometimes you’ll hang up and take yourself the whole nine yards with your laptop sitting on your mattress, porn on the screen, and your vibrator between your open legs.

It’s pretty intense work. Sometimes.

But all in all: no. You never…y’know.

One week in, you were cooking dinner whilst telling Trevor – thirty-nine, Buffalo, New York – how you’d take his huge, throbbing dick in your throat and let him fuck it. He asked to hear how turned on you were, just talking about it. You lowered your phone down to the pot of macaroni and gave it a stir.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned down the line, “you’re so fuckin’ wet right now, huh?”

Huh.

Tonight, you had pizza rolls. Less sexy.

You just got off another call. Thirty minutes of describing how good you’d take him up your ass. You’re bored, turned off by this point, and tired. It’s almost 3AM.

You pace around your apartment, flicking switches off and tossing cushions back into place. Spilling small sips of wine from your glass onto your tongue as you’re plunged into darkness, one click at a time.

You don’t get much while the sun’s up. Most days, nothing at all. That works for you, though. You can run errands, grab groceries, do sweet-fucking-nothing whilst waiting for the influx of calls that will inevitably come your way by nightfall. When the streetlights come on, the rush hour traffic dies out front, the shuffling of tired feet up the concrete staircase outside your front door slows down – you just log in, and your cell will eventually start to ring.

Your cell, which now lies wedged between the couch cushions. You notice the sound of it vibrating as you’re pulling your curtains closed. Half-way shut, you desert them and wander over. Intrigued.

No Caller ID. The usual. You swipe right. The robotic voice tells you there’s a request on your account for a ten-minute call. Tells you to dial 1 to accept, or hang up.

Ten minutes? At three in the morning?

Usually, at this time of night, they’re longer. They’re drunk, or their partner finally fell asleep, or they just want your attention for a bit. See them through the uncomfortably quiet night.

But ten fucking minutes?

Ten minutes would make you somewhere around thirty-five dollars. They had the option as the timer ran out to extend the call, if they wanted. Most of them did. And that worked fine for you.

You’re unemployed. Who knows what money you’ll have in a week’s time? An extra thirty bucks – probably more – right before bed? A little nightcap?

You dial in and answer the call.

He doesn’t say anything when it connects. You hear the ruffling of clothes.

Your voice naturally dips a couple octaves, coats in something smooth and husky. Glistening, gleaming, sex-driven. “Hello?”

He clears his throat. His voice is deep, rich. More vibration than speech. He speaks with a Southern drawl, like bare skin running over silken sheets. It’s smooth, and sensual, and sexy. “Evenin’.”

You knock the last light switch off with your hip and doddle through to your bedroom. Mornin’, actually. “Hi. What’re you after, baby?”

He takes a beat to reply. More ruffling. He chuckles a little before he says it. “Baby? That what you wanna call me?”

Your glass scrapes softly across your nightstand. You bounce down on your mattress, springs moaning as you roll onto your stomach. Knees bent, your ankles link in the air. “What do you want me to call you?”

“Guess we can figure that one out together.”

“Alright. I like a challenge. You wanna start with your name?”

Another pause. He sucks in a deep breath. “Joel.”

“Joel,” you repeat, thumb picking at your nailbeds. “That’s a sexy name.”

He doesn’t respond. Just gives a non-committal grunt, and a smile pulls across your lips.

“What are you into, Joel?”

He sniffs. “Thought we could figure that out, too.”

Something in the way he says it, the curve in the words, maybe, tells you he knows damn well what he’s into. What he means is: you can figure that out by yourself.

Like you said: you like a fucking challenge.

“You like nicknames? Daddy? That kinda thing?”

A low growl passes his lips. “Not this early on, I don’t.”

You know from the hitch in his voice that he likes it. That little catch at the bottom of his throat, the way the words stumble on their way up. Know you’ve plucked a string deep inside.

“Well, you know you only got ten minutes, right?”

“I’m aware.”

“’kay,” you sing, flipping your hair over your shoulder. You exhale, drawing shapes on the pattern of your bedsheets. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinkin’ about, then? What’s on your mind, cowboy?”

Cowboy. It’s the accent. He sounds Texan, or something. His words float through the receiver all wound, coiled up and tight.

Joel doesn’t seem to care. He answers your question truthfully.

“Thinkin’ about what you’re doin’ right now.”

You smirk. Sometimes you like the attention, too. You turn your head, check the clock by your bed. Two minutes have passed.

“I’m…lying in bed, in the dark. Had a couple wines, feelin’ pretty good. But this is all about you, so.”

He chuckles softly. “’m lyin’ in bed, too. In the dark.”

“You feelin’ lonely?”

He takes another deep breath. You figure he does this before he gives most answers. He sounds the contemplative type. Always double, triple checking his sentences before he lets them go.

“Just need somethin’ to take the edge off.”

“Okay,” you breathe, “let me. What do you need?”

There’s a long break between the end of your question and the sound he makes before he answers. You pull the phone from your ear and glance at the screen to make sure it’s still connected. Time says another two minutes have passed.

Joel grumbles. It echoes around your ear like thunder in the distance. “You touchin’ yourself?” he eventually asks.

“Uhuh,” you reply, nails picking at a loose thread on your comforter.

“Yeah? How’s it feel?”

“Good,” you mewl, tugging at the seam. Your teeth grit as you yank at it. “So – fucking – good.”

There’s another growl from the other end. It vibrates through your speaker, purrs in your ear.

“You ain’t fuckin’ touchin’ yourself.”

Your hand stops. Your eyes stick on the thread. “I am.”

“You are?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me how.”

You roll your eyes, turning onto your back. Your fingers play with the buttons of your shirt. Fuckin’ – tell me how. “I’m…” you sigh, “…I’m laying in bed, on my back. My hands are –”

“What you wearin’?”

“Isn’t that the sorta stuff you oughta ask when I first pick up?”

He speaks calmer. Clearer. You can hear the smile on his lips. “’m askin’ you now. What you wearin’, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. So he’s that type. Whatever. He’s kind of pissing you off.

“A shirt. And socks. And panties. No bra.”

“’n where you touchin’ yourself?”

You huff. “Between my –”

“Watch the attitude.”

You almost fucking laugh. Your breath escapes your chest in a silent burst. “Between my legs,” you tell him, flat and annoyed.

“Mhm. Above or beneath the panties?”

“Beneath, daddy.”

A tiny groan passes his lips. He doesn’t mean for it to, and a second, angry grumble follows, like he’s pissed at himself for letting it slip.

You take a lock of hair and twirl it around your finger, pulling tight until the tip whitens. “You touching yourself?” you ask, voice sickly sweet.

Joel ignores you. “Take it off. The shirt,” he clarifies, when you don’t answer.

You shuffle around a little, making sure he can hear the movement. You unbutton the shirt until it’s lying loose over your breasts, then tug it down over one shoulder.

“Alright,” you tell him with a heavy breath, laying back on the mattress, “it’s off.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and your eyes flutter closed.

“Mhm.”

Joel chuckles under his breath. “Know when you’re lyin’, angel. Take – it – off. Don’t be a brat about it.”

This is half the game for him, you realize. This is his thing. He gives commands, you disobey them, and he kicks you into line. Tells you to behave.

You figure you like it almost as much, going by the heat pooling between your legs.

Your shoulders lift and you tug the shirt over them, tossing it to the floor. You lie back, bare against the sheets, and your hand instantly cups over your breast.

“Better,” Joel breathes.

“What now, baby?” you whisper, laughing to yourself. You’re palming at your breast, your fingers pulling in around your nipple. Your core begins to throb.

“You’re gonna touch yourself.”

“That what you want?”

“’s what I want, angel. Do it for me.”

You don’t take much more convincing. Your hand slips down your front, cups over your mound. You gasp when your fingertips brush against your clit.

Joel hears. “Yeah,” he hums, “’s a good girl. Take those panties off ‘n rub that pretty little clit for me.”

Your fingertips give one last kiss to the fabric of your panties. Your mouth tips open a fraction. You suck in a quiet breath, and push your hips up off the bed. The lace slips down your thighs in one motion.

Joel’s grunting steadily now, small noises slipping past his lips and into your ear. You spread your legs and push against your bud again, massaging the sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whine, and he groans in response.

“I know, I know,” he’s saying, and you hear the metal tinkle of his belt buckle. The fraying sound of denim being shifted. One slow, relief-filled groan.

His hands are on his cock.

You’d put more effort into caring that he’s been fully clothed this entire time, if you could think straight. You’re applying more pressure to your clit, rubbing faster, harder, then letting your fingers drift downward, move between your gleaming folds.

“Wish I was there with you so bad,” Joel purrs, and your eyes flutter open.

“Yeah?” you choke.

“Yeah.”

“What would you – do to me?”

He shudders. “Would fuck you real good, sweetheart.”

“Fuck,” you breathe, fingers circling faster.

There’s a gentle tugging; a rhythmic breathing. The odd break in his voice when his hand tightens, or you make a sweet little sound, or he catches himself giving too much away.

“Fuckin’ – be all over you. Nice ‘n hard. You want that?”

“Mhm,” you mewl, panting. “Want it so bad.”

“Yeah, you do,” Joel says. You can hear the sticky sound of his precum, leaking from his tip and running between his fingers, being pumped down his shaft by his fist. “Feels good, angel, don’t it? When you do what you’re told?”

“Y-eah,” you whisper.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and you picture a tight fist choking a thick cock. Picture that same fist unwinding, curving around your mound, fingers pushing deep inside you.

“Joel,” you whimper, and your fingers move down again, dipping nearer your tight, wet hole.

He grunts in response. “Don’t – not yet,” he tells you.

You whine.

“You got somethin’ else to use?” he asks, then interrupts before you can answer. “Yeah, you do. Go get it, sweetheart. Tell me what you got.”

“V-vibrator,” you mumble, hoisting yourself up and lunging across the bed to your nightstand. You haul the drawer open and sift between balled-up socks until you’re clutching the long, thick shape, fingers tight around the dips and curves.

“Let me hear it, angel.”

You click the button and the toy whirrs to life, vibrating strongly in your hand.

Joel hisses. “Alright, sweetheart, lie back. Gonna put it on that pretty little pussy, alright? Gonna make yourself cum for me.”

“Uhuh,” you murmur, one hand lowering the vibrator between your legs, the other holding the phone to your ear in a vice grip.

You push the round tip down to your clit and your head falls back with a loud moan. Joel sends one straight back at the sound of yours. It fades into a whimper, a desperate cry as you massage yourself with your toy.

Your legs clench as you dip it lower, letting the head nudge against your entrance, sending flutters of pleasure across your dripping cunt.

“Don’t fuck yourself,” Joel instructs, and your hand quickly pulls back. “Save it.”

This mystery man, who you’ve known for – if your clock is right – eight minutes, now; whose name is the most information you’ve gotten out of him; and whose face you couldn’t pick in a lineup…has such a hold on you, that your body instinctively reacts to his every word. An automatic reaction to do exactly as he says, when, five minutes ago, you couldn’t wait to get him off the phone.

You fucking listen to him. Save it for what? your head asks, and you ignore it. You don’t push the toy any closer to your center.

It drives hard against your clit, fast vibrations rippling down on the hot, swollen skin. It sends floods of warmth between your legs, drawing your arousal slick and wet from between your folds.

Your chest is damp, gleaming with sweat. Your breath cuts short in your throat, guttural noises replacing it as they reverberate through your mouth, across your tongue and into your dark bedroom.

Your walls start to clamp around nothing. You angle the vibrator so that it sends deep pulses across your pussy, shutting your eyes to picture Joel’s thick cock burying deep inside you as you climax with a loud, broken cry.

“Yeah, good girl. That’s it. Sound so pretty, angel. ‘s a good girl.”

You’re whimpering his name as you come down, holding the toy to your clit and letting your high wash over you. Your chest jumps, breaths heavy and staggered, gasping for air and then letting it rush out of your lungs in desperate pants.

“You know how good you are at that?” he asks, when your breath steadies again.

You giggle softly. “’s why I do it, baby.”

“Worth every fuckin’ penny.”

You sit in the post-orgasm haze for a few seconds, waiting for the room to stop spinning and your body to feel like yours again. You pull the phone from your sweat-stuck cheek and glance at the time. You have less than thirty seconds left. Joel seems to do the same, for his voice returns to your ear in a gentle, low whisper.

“Alright. Speak soon, angel. Be good.”

The call cuts.

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taglist: @slvbl @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @casa-boiardi @msjarvis @acornacreacure @totallynotastanacc @alejaa-a @aphterthoughtt @pedroluver @earthtogrogu @sexygaypalpatine @cool-iguana @serenaxpedro @lizzyervs @bitchwitch1981 @brittmb115 @stormseyer @scarletthefierce @patti7dc @pattwtf @atticrissfinch @pascalpvnk @lizzyervs @jediknightjana @jessie8605 @iknowisoundcrazy @caitispunk @vickie5446 @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi @gracieispunk @hellishjoel

(psst! after this weekend my taglist is no more! follow @macfroglets + turn on notifs if you wanna be in the know when i post!)

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller x callgirl!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller

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desert-fern · 1 year

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A Gun Amongst Daggers Master List

Summary: When Jake meets a woman at the Hard Deck, the last thing he expects is for her to be a Navy Seal. And not just any Seal, the Commander of Seal Team 3. She’s beautiful, smart, dangerous, and everything about her just makes him want to get close. Her name? Bear. When the Seals need backup, Cyclone puts the Daggers on their radar and now, Jake has to work with Bear and her team, all the while trying to stay professional. Can he do it? Or will he end up falling for the Navy sniper and mission Commander?

Read on Wattpad or AO3!

Teaser

Spotify Playlist

Part 1 - The Seal in the Bar

Part 2 - Goddamn Pilots

Part 3 - Intel

Part 4 - Guess Who?

Part 5 - Flyboy On My Mind

Part 6 - Mark Me Down as Horny, not Scared

Part 7 - Shaping Up and Shipping Out

Part 8 - The Boat to Riyadh

Part 9 - Glowing in the Dark

Part 10 - On Nights Like This

Part 11 - Operation Hellfire

Intermission

Part 12 - I’m Not Ready to Die

Part 13 - I’m Not Gonna Lose You Now

Part 14 - Cuz I Need You (Like the Flowers Need the Rain)

Part 14.5 - The Letter

Part 15 - Game of Survival

Part 16 - Mark My Words

Part 17 - What About Us?

Part 18 - But I Know Who I Am Now (I Am Yours)

Part 19 - ‘Cause You’re the Reason Love Comes Easy

Part 20 - Golden

Part 21 - I Won’t Let You Go

Part 22 - Reunion

Part 23 - Lights Down Low

Part 24 - (Sun)Kissed

Epilogue - Like Real People Do

A/N: Hi all! Come scream your theories at me! I want to hear what you all think! This list will be updated as new chapters come out and it will be found on my pinned post under "My Works"!

Tagging my AGAD Taglist:

@startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s @dakotakazansky @horseshoegirl @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @lavenderbradshaw @roosterforme @bobby-r2d2-floyd @twsssmlmaa @bradleybeachbabe @footprintsinthesxnd @fandomxpreferences @dempy @gizmodear @fighterpilothoe @chaoticassidy @eli2447 @javden @snubug @indigomaegrimm @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @djs8891 @rhirhikingston @sisterslytherinog @waywardhunter95 @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @melss24 @heli991113 @thegoddessc @sgt-barnesveins @allyxstebo @taytaylala12 @urmom-999 @formulapierre @pinkpantheris @havlindzk @a-beaverhausen @aemondsiut @alana4610 @hangmanscoming @killcomet

#A Gun Amongst Daggers master list #top gun maverick #jake seresin x reader #top gun #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin #jake hangman x fem!reader #hangman fanfiction #hangman top gun #Hangman #bear and hangman #a gun amonst daggers #jake seresin imagine

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catboybiologist · 8 months

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Hi! I’m CatboyBiologist.

Formerly a femboy, now a trans woman just starting HRT, and a PhD student in molecular biology. I started using this online persona as a fun, shitposty way to explore gender a few years ago. I post selfies (generally sfw, but somewhat sexy, so minors and ppl who don’t like that have been warned), rambles about science, tutorials and advice from the stuff I’ve learned by being a femboy in the past, nature pictures, stuff about the ocean, my adorable grumpy little tortoise, and unsolicited opinions on random nerdy topics. Any pronouns are fine. I don’t plan to socially transition for a while, and still present as a man most of the time, so I’m used to whatever you wanna use for me (for now, I’ll update this if that changes). Please send me pictures of your pets or other cute animals in your life!

As a scientist, I’m also documenting my transition! This google sheet will be updated at least monthly. I also have additional metrics I’m keeping to myself, and pictures that go with this, but I’m not sharing them publicly yet. Keep in mind that this is just one person’s experience with HRT, and may not represent universal trends!

Adding a little something here, bc I think it was an interesting bit a writing: if you want to see me respond to a transphobe about what "biologically female" means, here's a thing I wrote about it. CW for transphobia and discussion, obviously.

Also, if any of my measurements look weird, its entirely possible I fucked up. Let me know if anything looks off!

Here’s some of my favorite pre-HRT pictures:

If you want to see more of my pre-HRT selfies, browse the “femboy” tag on my blog!

And as of this writing, I’m only 2 days after the start of HRT, so here’s a picture with my tortoise that’s technically post-HRT (but with 0 time for actual changes):

If you want to see my future post-HRT selfies, browse the “trans selfie” tag on my blog!

Also here's another really cute picture and fanart of my tortoise by @whalesharkcat:

I have affectionately given my tortoise the title of The Grumpus.

I also wrote a couple of tutorials and general vibes about being a femboy before I started HRT:

Sometimes I make shitposts of myself, I don’t take myself too seriously:

This includes the way I came out on tumblr:

And here’s an overly serious, long ramble about trans thoughts and things that I wrote shortly afterwards:

Later addition: Someone asked how I take selfies, so I wrote a quick and dirty guide with some tips on how I do so in response to their ask:

Oh yeah and apparently I was a 196 microcelebrity? I never to thought I was popular enough for that but apparently some people do 🤷‍♀️. So uh, hi 196 tags, I'm abusing you for my pinned post LOL

As for terminology, I personally do think of myself as a “man who is becoming a woman” as opposed to having always been a woman. If that doesn’t resonate with your experience, I totally get that! But that’s why I freely call pre-HRT me a femboy, while still calling post-HRT me a trans woman. I’m also keeping the blog name as CatboyBiologist for the forseeable future, because at this point, Catboy just seems like a gender neutral term to me.

I’m also trying to put together a script for a podcast regarding how studying biology influenced my perspective on sex and gender- lmk if there’s any interest in that! It’s probably gonna be way too long and indulgent but oh well.

So uh. Yeah. I don’t end these types of things well. Byeeeeee

#196 #r196 #r/196 #rule #/r/196 #trans #transitioning #trans woman #trans femme #tortoise #tort #russian tortoise #trans tutorial #trans tummy tuesday #transgender #trans tumblr #trans selfie #trans journal

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slasherbvnnie · 1 year

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Until We Found You | Part VIII

Hello again, part viii is finally out. One last chapter left of this series. I hope it’s been enjoyable so far. This one is a bit short, but don’t worry. The next part will be longer. Tomorrow will officially be the last update. I hope you all return for the next series I write. You know the drill, heed the tags below.

Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Poly!Ghostface x reader, NSFW, All characters 18+

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part IX

Word Count: 954

You stumbled on your feet a little as you walked downstairs, in a daze as Stu set you onto the counter. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before heading outside to help Billy with Colton, you grimaced as you saw him and looked away. “Awe come on sweetheart, I saw the photos you had of Casey and Steve in your room,” Billy said with a chuckle, “It’s different in real life, huh? After they die though, it’s kinda the same as seeing it online or in photos. They don’t look real anymore,” he said as you shook your head, “my side hurts,” you said as you looked to them.

Stu was quick to look over your wounds, glaring at Billy and punching his shoulder. “You hit deep, fuckrag,” he said as you whimpered. “Come on sweetie, you’re strong, you can last a little longer, right?” Stu said as he cupped your cheek, your eyes began to well with tears again as you nodded. “Yeah, I can,” you said with a sniffle. Billy was by your side now, kissing you and apologizing over and over as he patched you up. “Come on, little bunny, we gotta get ready now, Tate’s gonna be here soon,” he said as he kissed your cheek and helped you off the counter.

You were sat on the floor of Stu’s kitchen, feeling a jab at your shoulder and blinking in surprise when you saw Dewey hovering above you. “Hey kid,” he said, tears in his eyes as he looked at you. “Dewey,” you said softly, sniffling and letting out a little yelp as he picked you up. “You’re pretty good with a sewing kit by the looks of it,” he said as he looked to the first aid kit next to you. “Oh, yeah, my mom taught me…” you mumbled out, squinting when you saw the daylight. You didn’t remember what time last night you had fallen asleep. You remember Tatum coming back to the house, after the boys dealt with her you remember being in the back of Stu’s car. Stu stayed with you until Billy gave him his queue, after that, things got a little blurry. You remember them hyping each other up about something and their groans, you remember the blood on the kitchen floor of…Stu’s house. After that you remember one of the boys trying to stitch up the wound they gave you, to make it more believable they said. You couldn’t remember which one of them it was, at that point you had began to get a little dizzy.

“Stu…Billy… Where? Are they okay?” You asked as Dewey looked to you. “We’re still taking a look around the house. We’ll let you know if we find them, okay?” He said as he brought you to the ambulance, setting you down for the EMS to check on you. As the minutes passed you saw gurneys with black bags being hauled out, Dewey walking to his patrol car and crying, but eventually you saw Stu on a gurney. Your heart fluttered knowing he was okay, you looked to the paramedic and asked if you could go check on him, thanking them and slowly walking over, being mindful of your injuries. “Stu,” you called out, the older boy looking at you and smiling. “Hey,” he said as he reached for your hand. A moment later you saw Billy, feeling relieved knowing both of them were okay.

You rubbed at your eyes as a few tears fell, feeling everything from the last few hours hitting you like a ton of bricks. You could hear voices in the background, looking up when you heard your parents calling your name. You groaned as they ran to hug you, Stu’s hand slipping from your grip. “I’m okay, really, it’s just a scratch,” you tried to play off, receiving even stronger hugs and more kisses from them.

You noticed a few officers making their way towards you and Stu, both gladly giving them the same story of what happened that night.

All about how ghostface tried to attack you on the porch, how the three of you did your best to get out before learning it was mr prescott behind the mask. How he was going berserk because of the anniversary of Maureen. After he thought he wounded the three of you he left in Stu’s car, meanwhile the three of you were left wounded and exhausted.

It wasn’t long until you could hear the shuttering of cameras and announcements in stuck up news reporter voices not too far. The paramedics treated you, but with the prices of ambulances your parents opted to drive you to the hospital themselves. You looked to your side as you walked to your parents car, seeing Gale Weathers and her henchman with the camera. You frowned, shooting your middle finger at them before climbing into the car. You looked out the window, smiling as you saw the boys parents taking them back into their cars and away from the crime scene.

You were happy to know they were okay, to know they were getting their big dream of being directors of their own movie, to know you all could finally be together. Although you hated the way the girls were left, you couldn’t deny the little twinge of jealousy from last night. They had Billy and Stu all to themselves for so long, when the boys revealed themselves to you, you felt jealous to know Tatum and Sidney had been with them. Despite the small amount of sadness you had now that they were dead, you felt a bit of happiness knowing they were gone and you could have the boys to yourself now instead.

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acepalindrome · 17 days

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SDV Aesthetic Mod Recommendations (1.6 Edition!)

I’m back with more mod recommendations that work with 1.6! This time, we’re gonna focus on stuff that mainly just changes how things look: recolors, portraits, animal skins, etc. No major gameplay changes, but the visual changes can really enhance the experience or make the game feel totally different! Again, links will be in a reblog. And you can check my ‘sdv mods’ tag for my other recommendation post!

So starting off, recolors. I have three that I really love: Vibrant Pastoral Recolor, DaisyNiko’s Earthy Recolor, and Starblue Valley.

They all tone down the saturation and give everything a softer, more natural look. Vibrant Pastoral is probably my favorite because it makes the scythe-able grass look like it’s full of wildflowers! Also of note, Starblue Valley’s 1.6 update is a work in progress, so some parts might not be properly recolored. It’s such a pretty recolor, but you might want to just track the mod for now while they’re hammering out the kinks.

Next up, portraits! First, I wanna talk about Seasonal Outfits.

I love that vanilla has beach and winter outfits now, and this mod takes that ten times further! Not only are there outfits for every season (with matching sprites), there are also unique outfits for festivals! I love all the Halloween costumes for Spirits Eve! There are seasonal mods for Stardew Valley Expanded and Ridgeside Village too!

Next, Nyapu’s Portraits.

I love the cute, old school Harvest Moon vibe these have, but one of the really great things is that Nyapu has made portraits for almost every modded character in existence. I’m fussy about getting my portraits to match, because it’s just weird when you’ve got totally different art styles for different characters, and that is a non-issue with this collection! If there’s a character mod, there is probably a Nyapu portrait. SVE and RSV are just the tip of the iceberg! Also Nyapu is a real life farmer when they aren’t making adorable portraits, which I think is just cool!

I made a post earlier about Elle’s Cuter Coop Animals/Barn Animals/Cats/Dogs/Horses, but it’s worth mentioning again because they’re just too cute and the huge variety of different colors and species is unmatched.

And I mean. Highland cows. Just look at them. Elle also has mods for seasonal farm buildings and farmhouse kitchens with lots of different options! You really can’t go wrong with any of Elle’s mods.

And speaking of farm buildings, one of my absolute favorites is Gwen’s Medieval Buildings, and matching mod, Gwen’s Medieval Craftables.

The antique, overgrown vibes are just gorgeous.

If I do UI recolors, I usually just pick one that matches my recolor (Vibrant Pastoral, Earthy Recolor, etc) but I recently discovered Lavender Dreams UI Recolor and I adore it.

The colors are just so nice and soft, and the accents of moss and leaves in the menu is just delightful.

I’m on mobile and running out of pictures, so I’ll just talk about the next three that change your character. First is Female Farmer Overhaul. Despite the name, everything is available to any gender, although the style is definitely more feminine. It adds a lot of new hairstyles, clothes, hats, and has the option of short or long sleeves so you’re dressed appropriately for the season!

Next is Animated Hair. It makes your hair move as you run, use tools and so on. There are lots of hairstyles and it just looks so nice!

And one last one, Expressive Elf Ears. Like Animated Hair, they move around with your character! They are so floppy! If you want a little fantasy flavor to your character, they’re a must.

And that’s all for now! I might do content adding mods next time!

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv mods #long post

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 11 months

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Becoming the Storm: First Wave

Author's note: I got distracted from Ashes and broken lamps by this idea, but I have to follow the dopamine. Also yes I did this instead of sleep and no I couldn't think of anything better than this dorky title.Word count:4008

Tags: Isekai, dark humor, death mentioned, stalked by a fruit, voice of all things, grifting Kaido, getting a natural high, spiritual experience, no use of (y/n) y'all get named a card game like the tobbi roppo, double agent, corpse scene

It had been exactly thirty seconds since Truck-kun had so kindly knocked your ass into another world. It had not taken you long to realize you had been isekai’d in the middle of Kaido’s strategy table in the middle of a meeting between Kaido and his lead performers. The four large men were looking at your sprawled figure, too in awe to speak. You let your head fall back onto the hard surface below and sighed, “Alright, kill me just get it over with.”

It took a few moments for one of them to speak.

“Not yet, I have a few questions first,” Kaido mumbled, still coming to terms with the fact that he just watched a human fall out of a floating orb of blue light.

This was the last thing you needed today and were eager to either go to bed or the forever box. You groaned, “I don’t know how I got here, last thing I remember was getting hit by a truck walking my ass home from a run to the liquor store.” Lifting the bag of vodka, which miraculously was not in a million pointy pieces.

Kaido grumbled, “Hmm now there's only more questions.”

His response made anger swell and writhe in your chest. “Damn it Kaido are you gonna kill me or what?” You curse. When the horned man shook his head, you scrambled to your feet and grumbled, “Fine I’ll do it myself,” as you made your way over to a nearby window.

Kaido nodded at King, wordlessly telling him to apprehend you, and the next thing you knew you were hanging upside down from King’s fist. You briefly squirmed indignantly before going limp and yielding to Kaido’s wishes, “Alright if you’re gonna interrogate me then I’m gonna need a cup and some ice because I will not be doing this sober. And some snacks, I’m starving.”

After Kaido moved the conversation to one of the banquet halls, he had food and drinks served before he started his questioning. Unfortunately, each answer led to only more questions; what was a truck, why he had never heard of such a thing, where were you from? You had to explain the universe of ten dimensions of string theory to them at one point.

King, who you had thought had not listened to a word you said, asked, “If you are from an alternate universe, then how did you know our names without having to be told?”

This is when you realized the possible consequences if they found out about the manga. One wrong word could get Luffy, or any of the important characters killed, or screw up the story. You needed to know exactly where in the timeline you were at now. But you couldn’t remember the ages of the men present, you only knew Yamato’s age. Now cognizant of how carefully you must tread, you start to question them, “Before I answer that, how old is Yamato?”

“That brat is… Sixteen?” Kaido mumbled, only to be corrected by King, “Seventeen.” The men watched you stare at the floor deep in thought.

That meant Luffy was around seven at present, and he had no control over his devil fruit if he had consumed it yet. But it meant he was safely hidden away and protected at the moment. You turned your gaze to Kaido eyeing him cautiously, if you were smart you could spin this in your favor. Kaido was a powerful man with copious resources, and he wanted to become the pirate king. Now that you were here in this world and had nothing to lose, it meant you didn’t have to wait every week for chapter updates to learn the truth of the poneglyphs or will of D. So Kaido would be a most convent benefactor to help you reach your goal, it’s not like he’s an innocent person you’d be taking advantage of. Plus if you got enough power you could help the people of Wano, and be an asset to Lady Hiyori and Denjiro later on.

“There’s a comic about this world in my own.” You admit, needing to be careful because there was no way these seasoned pirates would not sniff out any lies a scalawag like yourself would tell. It was best to tell the truth, but be cryptic about it and not tell the whole truth.

Kaido roared, “Worororo! So your people tell stories about us?” Slapping his knee, clearly assuming he was the main character. Queen and Jack who seemed to be tickled and plagued by a similar inference, joined in their Captain’s laughter. King, who was less than pleased with that possibility, you also got a distinct impression that he was suspicious of you. Finding it wisest not to dwell on King, you stared at Kaido, waiting for him to regain his composure, gleefully looking forward to bursting their bubble. When they finally calmed down, you replied, “You’re in it, but you’re not the main character.” This moment was paramount in getting Kaido to help you.

King sneered, “If not someone as accomplished and fearsome as Kaido-san is not the main character, then who is?”

Time to cast the bait too tantalizing for any of them to resist. You took a sip from your glass, and matter-of-factly uttered, “It’s about Joy Boy’s journey to change the world.”

Your words brought heavy and sober silence over the room, that nearly broke your composure. All four men were in varying flavors of disbelief, but the only person’s feelings who mattered were Kaido’s. He started at you blankly, ignoring the cacophony of slander and rambling from his subordinates. Kaido held up a hand to silence them and asked, “Why should I believe you?”

You took a deep breath before starting to rattle off almost everything you knew about him. “You’re from the Vodka Kingdom, you became a soldier by the time you were ten. The King tried to draft you into the Marines, but you escaped and proceeded to get captured by them whenever you were hungry. Until one day Whitebeard, then Edward Newgate told you Rocks wanted to chat, and you joined his crew. Where you met and befriended Linlin, who tricked you into eating your devil fruit after Garp and Roger defeated the crew at God Valley. Then you started to build your crew, starting with King who you met a Punk Hazard.” Needing to pause to regain your breath, before continuing, “Also, your favorite food is alcohol and your birthday is May 1st. ”

Also, your favorite food is alcohol and your birthday is May first.

“Worororo!! You even know my birthday and favorite food! How about his?” Kaido replied, pointing at King.

“December first and flying fish sashimi. Queen’s is July thirteenth and Oshiruko. Jack’s birthday is September twenty-eighth and his favorite food is elephant meat steak while his least favorite is grilled cactus. Do you need more or are we good?”

King was the quickest to react, lunging at you to snatch you up, but was stopped by Kaido smacking him over the head with his club. While the Lunarian groaned, Kaido huffed, “You’re going to tell me everything about Joyboy.”

“If I did that then you would wreck the story, and if you want to fight him at his full power then I’m going to need you to just trust me.”

Kaido’s eyes narrowed, and you fought to keep your composure as your stomach rolled and writhed like a business of ferrets had replaced your guts and spine. “If you can’t tell me anything then what use are you to me?”

“Well one, I know about the poneglyphs including the locations of at least ten out of the thirty poneglyphs. They’re the ones that Joyboy finds along on his journey because they’re what leads him to Wano. So we can only take prints, and once we have them I can learn about linguistics and work on deciphering them.” You explain, intentionally leaving out the Red Poneglyph on Zou and the secret ones in Wano.

“...does that nine include the ones Linlin has?”

“And the one you have or will have, and the location of one of them is up in the air right now. And then one of them might not exist.” You admit, “But I know a bunch of other stuff ….. While I can’t tell you, I can however act on it on your behalf you would just need to give me some level of authority.”

Kaido pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly, drawing everyone’s attention to him. And after a painful minute of waiting he announced, “You will join my crew as our Poneglyph researcher and advisor. I understand that we will need to comply with you even if we don’t understand, I guess I’ll have you working under King since he’s the one I can trust not to let his pride or stubbornness. But know this, if you are lying to me I will have King make you regret being born.” His voice was steady and stern, but it filled you with relief. “You start work tomorrow, in the meantime.”

“I already regret my birth, but thank you, sir,” You joked, remembering to give a small bow before finishing, “I look forward to starting my new job.”

“Also from now on you’re called Klondike. Now someone will take you to one of the guest rooms.”

After being given a room morning couldn’t come fast enough for you, not only were you finally going to get to see a poneglyph in person, but because sleep was eluding you. For the last two hours misty whispers seeped through the door, indistinct voices uttering nothing you could decipher. You had passed the noise off as some sort of background noise, but once you had settled down to bed the voices grew louder. This combined with the sheer massive scale of your new environment and the inky darkness that filled the void space in the room made you jumpy. It felt like hundreds of ghastly pale fingers of specters unknown were scribbling toward you on the other side of the wood that nonetheless beckoned you to follow them. You had never fully grasped how haunting Onigashima was until now, the only thing you felt you could do was to hide under the plush duvet on your futon.

The next thing you knew someone was shaking you awake, and the room was bright as shit. You squinted against the blinding light and looked over to see a strange woman glaring down at you with disdain.

“It’s almost ten in the morning, do you intend to keep Kaido waiting forever stupid?” She sneered, “Hurry and get dressed, the governor-general is waiting for you in the western hall.”

You stretched your whole body, and groaned, “ I don’t have any other clothes, fuck I’m going to have to get a whole new wardrobe.”

The strange woman kicked you in the ribs and snarled at you to get up, and proceeded to grumble about her other responsibilities as she led you to the breakfast hall. Where Kaido was chatting with Maria over the empty plates that once held copious amounts of food. The Ogre whipped his head in your direction when your arrival was announced, and he boomed, “There you are, Klondike, you slept through breakfast.”

He seemed to be in a good mood, or at least better than you had left him last night. You smiled at him, bowed, and replied, “I did not mean to make you wait, have never had to wake up on my own before. I shall endeavor to do better in the future.”

Nodding in approval he held a hand out to Black Maria and introduced her, “This is Black Maria, she is one of the Toppi Roppo. She will be the one responsible for your needs.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Black Maria.” You mumbled and bowed, before standing straight up and using your hand to shield your eyes from the sunlight pouring in through the open doors.

She put on a sweet smile that did nothing to hide the murderous look in her eyes as she cooed, “The pleasure is yours entirely. You look dreadful poor thing.”

It was amusing to you that she seemed to hate you even though she just met you, leaving you wondering who had said what. While your money was on King you nodded respectfully to Maria and mumbled, “I had a rough night, I was kept up by some people talking down the hall, and it seems like I overindulged last night, my head is pounding and this light hurts my eyes. But I look forward to working with you.”

Kaido not caring for formalities, interrupted, “That’s odd you were the only one in that wing last night and the rooms are soundproof…. Are those the same clothes from yesterday?”

You awkwardly tugged at the hem of your shirt to see just how wrinkled it had gotten and chuckled, “Yeah, sorry, I wasn’t able to bring anything with me when I came, besides the vodka and my bag.”

He looked over at Maria, making her smile morph into dread, “I thought I asked you to make sure they have new clothing to wear.”

Maria gave a pointed look at the woman who woke you and said, “ I was wondering the same thing, why are they wearing day-old clothes, Yumi?”

The woman cooly stated that she had eyeballed your measurements, and passed it along to another made who was searching for spares for you to wear. Maria seemed annoyed at the woman before turning to Kaido and sighed, “I trust Yumi’s skills, her maid however has a penchant for getting lost. I’ll have the Marys go look for her. In the meantime why don’t we let the poor dear eat, and then have them change before going to see King?”

Kaido nodded, “ Sadly there’s not much left, you have to move faster around here if you want food. Help yourself to anything you can find.”

You laughed, “It seems so, but I rarely eat breakfast. I’m a bit of a night owl, so I’m not usually awake at this time,” looking around at the hall which looked like a whirlwind of piranhas had blown through. There was food on the floor, walls, and ceiling but none was left on any of the porcelain serving platters. Except for one bowl that seemed untouched, it was piled high with an assortment of fresh fruit. The bright red apple on top looked particularly good and had your mouth watering. You sat in front of the bowl, gave thanks for the food, and snatched the apple up.

Much to your displeasure, the apple started to morph the moment you touched it; turning lumpy, and swells of stormy grey and bright yellow swirled to the skin of the fruit. Your breakfast had turned into a devil fruit in the open view of everyone in the room. From the looks on their faces, this was something people in this world would consider a miracle. However, for you it was disappointing and annoying, you had wanted that apple. Kaido called for someone to bring the devil fruit encyclopedia to him at once, and knowing he’d want it, and asking for it would be a fruitless effort, you threw him the fruit. He turned it over in his hands, studying it as you searched for an acceptable substitute that would disappoint you the least. You were having trouble about whether or not you wanted the Kiwi or the peach, as you were pulled away by maids who were to change your clothes for you.

When you returned thirty minutes later, bathed, groomed, and in a fresh kimono, Kaido was surrounded by the lead performers and tobi roppo. They poured over a few books and compared your former apple to the pictures in said books. Spotting the bowl of fruit had been knocked over and the kiwi was squished flat, you went and picked up the peach. You glanced over at the fruit in Kaido’s hand, still mad it was no longer an apple. With a sigh, you were about to take a bite of the inferior peach, but a cacophony of gasps from the pirates in the corner of the room, made you halt your actions. When you opened your eyes they were all gawking at you in awe, tired of this nonsense you grumbled, “What now?”

Kaido mutely held up the fruit in his hand, which had returned to being a regular apple. Hoping it wasn’t so, you looked at your ‘meal’ to see your peach had mutated in a similar manner that your apple had. You threw it to Sasaki and picked up another only for the same swirls and colors to take the form of the fruit in your hand. After repeating this process with every fruit in the bowl you chucked the last one full force across the room and shrieked in frustration.

“Someone’s cranky,” King murmured.

“You can have the damn thing as long as you bring me something to eat that isn’t fruit.” You growled.

Thirty minutes later you had a belly full of food and the pirates had gone through all of their books and announced that they had no idea what fruit was determined to have you as its user. You lounged back on a pillow and watched as they discussed who was to eat the fruit. One thing they were all in agreement about was you were sure s shit not going to be the one to eat it. Not that you had any objections, the fact that you had no idea what it would do to you once you ate it was enough to dissuade you from eating it. Being someone that had always grown bored easily you requested to be escorted to Kaido’s Poneglyph. Kaido and King decided that the devil fruit at hand was more important so you were left with Yumi’s maid to take you. And true to Maria’s word, she had gotten both of you lost in five minutes.

The girl, Ai, was young, barely fourteen, and clearly out of her depth so you found it hard to be mad at her. She had been apologizing profusely ever since she realized she had gotten you two lost. There was a fear in her eyes that led you to believe she had faced severe punishment for such small mistakes in the past. It took you a few minutes to coax her into calming down.

“ I’m sorry, it’s just this place is so big and I’ve only been here for a month.” She explained.

You patted her on the back, and replied, “It’ll be okay, I can hear some people talking in that direction, why don’t we follow them and ask for directions?”

“I don’t hear anything, are…. Are you okay?” Ai asked, cocking her eyebrow at you and nervously rung the fabric of her kimono in her hands.

You shrugged, “what do we have to lose? We’re already lost.” The girl deflated and nodded, electing to follow you around winding halls and down eerie stairs until you reached for the handle of a door in the skull dome’s second basement. Ai grabbed your hand and blurted, “I don’t think we’re allowed in that room!... There’s this big cube thing in there, I don’t know what it is, but they kill people for going there without permission.”

You took her hand and assured her, “ It’s called a poneglyph, and studying it is why I’m here. So I’m going in, but if you stay out here, we’re more likely to be found since most people are not allowed in this room. Plus if I’m not allowed in here, then I’ll be the one to get punished.” She nodded and waited outside the door while you tried to contain your excitement before you opened the door.

The Poneglyph was magnificent, and much larger than you had imagined. The smooth stone appeared almost outplace above the ocean's surface. Even in the dim torchlight, it looked like a chunk of the ocean depths t had spawned in the wrong spot. Its presence was so calm, still, and weighty. Your reverence was interrupted by Ai gently pushing you into the room and closing the door behind you. Now alone with the Poneglyph, the whispers coaxed you closer, and before you knew it you were now only an arm’s length away. It was almost as if you were not in control of your body as your fingers pulled your arm toward it. The moment your skin made contact with it, the whispers cleared words. “The truth about the chasm of the past lies enshrined in the skull's golden right eye, where it waits and watches the ocean as it flies to strike out at the sky”

Your first thought went directly to the Poneglyph in the belfry of Shandora, then to the fact that this meant you had the Voice of all things like Roger and Momonosuke. Euphoric delirium and delightful disbelief fizzled inside of you. The rush of it left you breathless. But it all came crashing down when the door behind you flew open. Kaido marched in carrying a charred corpse in his hand. His inner circle followed somberly in behind him, each one of them looking grim. Kaido chucked the body at your feet, where it crumbled on impact. “He died almost immediately after he ate the fruit. A gust of wind came out of nowhere and knocked him into the riptide. I want to see if you can make another.” As King placed a bag of apples at your feet and you, still reeling from your experience with hearing the poneglyph stared at him not absorbing a damn thing going on.

Kaido waited a minute, sensing some about you was off, but not seeing anything visibly wrong with you. He pulled his head back, cocking an eyebrow at you as he asked, “Are you okay? What happened?”

Your back hit the poneglyph, you slid down to the floor, and panted, “Yeah, just gimme a minute I’m a little lightheaded from all the excitement. Uh, I can try, but I promise nothing.” The apple you reached for turned into the mysterious devil fruit pursuing you. “ Just leave the bag of fruit here, maybe if you tell me when someone eats it I can finally enjoy an apple.”

A sadistic glint ignited in King’s eye and he leaned over to Kaido to comment, “We know so little about devil fruits, it could be possible any fruit they’ve eaten could become a devil fruit in their stomach after a user dies. I’ll bet it’ll happen sooner or later because we have a moderately high … turnover rate.” Kaido furrowed his brow and forbid you from consuming any fruit before turning to leave.

“Wait, sir! Instead of coming all the way down here next time, why don’t you send your fastest crew member to fetch the apples for you?” You called out, knowing full well that it was King. Who practically swelled with anger at your suggestion, even his feathers puff up and the muscles in his wings clench. It would have been cute if he weren’t capable of ripping off your head. Queen snickering at him brought King damn close to popping a button off his jacket. So you added, “Also this is an excellent opportunity to gather data and test hypotheses about devil fruits, I hope one of you has at least been writing stuff down.”

Queen swore and ran off to his lab yelling his request for Kaido to wait until he’s brought some equipment up to pick a new test subject. After watching Queen waddle run down the hall Kaido rumbled, “Yeah I’m not waiting for him.”

You nodded and replied, “Wise choice, he’s like genuinely the worst.” Engendering laughing snort to erupt from King, who pretended like it had not happened when you grinned up at him.

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List of Up-and-coming works

#one piece #one piece x reader #king the wildfire #king the conflagration #king the conflagration x reader #queen the plague #jack the drought #kaido #beast pirates #animal kingdom pirates #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #6/11/23 #no beta we die like men

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beabeemu · 10 months

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All This Time Pt.4

Itoshi Rin x Reader

SERIES!!! Pt. 1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt. 5 Pt. 6

Uncle Osamu!! (From Haikyuu) Summary: After getting pregnant by Rin at the age of 16, deciding that not telling him about is the best thing you could do for him. Considering his soccer career, you would only get in the way. I always imagined their red hair, the same shade as taylor swift from the all-too-well short film. It's such a beautiful shade!!! Rei's hair is also like that.

MASTER LIST; TAG LIST FORM

join my Tag list so that you can be updated when the next part comes out!!

I was walking towards Rei’s room, going past a milliard of certificates, ribbons, and medals with her name. Even though she’s only been playing for only two years, the coaches and other instructors never failed to recognize her skill, Which I am happy about. All her hard work had paid off, all those late-night practices, she deserved everything that was coming for her.

I knocked first then entered, she was watching an old taping of a soccer match of a team I didn’t know. She paused the video and looked over at me. She’s a really big fan of PXG along with other teams, she mostly kept tabs on Julien Loki, Michael Kaiser, and well, Rin itoshi.

“What is it, Mom?”

I sat down on her bed while hiding something behind my back.

“So you remember when I told you that my boss’ son played for manshine city?”

“Yeah!!??! Reo Mikage is so cool!! And!! They’re playing league soon too!! I’m excited to watch their match!! They're playing against PXG right?!?!?!”

She always gets lost in her own head whenever we talk about anything related to soccer. I chuckled and just patted her head.

“Yeah, they’re playing against PXG on Friday. So back to my boss, he decided to give everyone a week's vacation to get us a chance to watch the game, and they even planned a trip to England to watch the match in person, And I was chosen as one of the higher-ups who gets to go and I talked to my boss if I could have you with me and they said yes”

Then I pulled out the plane tickets along with the tickets for the match, which were VIP as paid by my boss, he’s just so proud of his son you know?

She was sitting up now, so starstruck at the news I just gave her. Then she suddenly hugged me.

“Thank you….”

I smiled and hugged her back, after a few minutes of quiet, she suddenly got out of my arms and started jumping.

“I can’t believe that I’m gonna watch the La Liga match!!”

She was jumping and screaming all over her room, then she started rambling about what she was gonna wear, she even asked me if she could a PXG or a Manshine Jersey.

Right now I’m not even worried if I was gonna be in the same place as Rin, I was just glad that she’s happy

In the end, she got a PXG shirt, My boss seemed to be unbothered by it, I think. We weren’t sitting with them though, Somehow the organizers got our tickets mixed up because instead of us watching from the VIP upper box, we were now seated at the front row, so very near the PXG players. Faith maybe? I don’t know, but Rei was really happy with the mixed up. I was wearing some jeans with a fitted turtle neck sweater with sneakers. I wore a hat that covered my red hair, and I wore sunglasses and a face mask. Good thing it was cold enough here. I am still very nervous about seeing Rin, only because I wouldn’t know what to say to him, or how I should react.

I’ve made scenarios at night about meeting him before, but now that the possibility of meeting him was close to 100 was nerve-wracking. Meanwhile, Rei was buzzing with excitement, I mean who wouldn’t? She was gonna see her favorite football players play right in front of her.

I watched as people filled in the seats, then after a few minutes the opening ceremony started. They said some stuff, then the players started coming out, Rei was squealing happily beside me while standing on her seat, while I was holding her so she wouldn’t fall.

The more players that were coming out the more my anxiety was getting worse. Then he came into the light, I had to remove my sunglasses so that I could see him more clearly. Seeing him in person was different from seeing him on a screen.

He hasn’t changed much, apart from his physique, he was still the same rin I fell in and out of love with. His hair was a little longer, his face looked more mature, and his under-lashes reminded me of Rei’s. As they lined up to sing the national anthem of their respective countries I put my sunglasses back on. We stood up to pay respects, and after the ceremony, the game immediately started.

Since we were near the bench of PXG, they were walking towards us, I kept my head low but Rei on the other hand was standing up on her seat to get a good look at the players.

“Mama! Can you carry me for a bit?? I just wanna see the players please”

At first, I wanted to refuse, but I can’t. So I stood up, took her in my arms and we stood near the railings. I kept my head lowered, my face still covered by my mask and my hair covered with the scarf. Meanwhile, rei’s red hair was standing out, while I looked like someone who was allergic to the sun.

People around us started cheering and calling out the names of the players, which meant they were in front of us, Rei started calling out for Loki, Rin along with the other players. I took a peak and saw the players standing in front of us, they were waiting for the ref to give them the signal to go into the playing field.

My heart was beating hard, he was right there in front of me.

“Itoshi!! Loki!!!” Rei screamed their names, at first I didn’t think that they would look, but they did. Much to my luck. I met eyes with Rin. Rei was waving at them, and Loki waved back. Meanwhile, rin on the other hand was just staring at us, he looked like he was trying to remember something. I looked away, turning my head to the side not wanting to lock eyes with him anymore. Who knew a simple action would have the biggest impact on him?

At that moment you turned your head, and his eyes were met with your red hair, his world stopped spinning. Then he looked at the kid you were holding, She had the same color of hair, but has eyes just like his, she even had the same under-lashes as his. Then everything from the last time you two met up came flooding in, He didn’t know what to think, his mind was blank as he just stared at the kid you were holding. Then he thought, ‘Is she mine? Did she get pregnant? Is that why I haven’t heard from her after all these years?’ Like a miracle, you turned your head back to him, his eyes were wide, he didn’t want to make assumptions but a part of him was hoping that it would be you.

He didn’t have enough time to think about you two anymore because Loki tapped his shoulder saying that it was game time. He shook his head after looking at you two one last time. Then ran off to the field following his teammates, he tried his best to clear his head, but you were just plaguing his head again.

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Taglist Form!!

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt.5 Pt. 6

#anime #blue lock #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock x reader #bllk headcanons #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #bllk x reader #Bllk #bluelock #itoshi rin drabbles #rin itoshi

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alpacaparkaseok · 3 months

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How to Steal Moonlight |2|

Chapter 2. The Brawl

→ Pairing: mafia!BTS x reader (not poly)

→ word count: 3.1k (yes she's itty bitty)

→ warnings/tags: SFW, we're angry and fighting but we're also really thirsty?

→ a/n: hellloooo, it's me. updating with just a little chapter that's been sitting in my drafts for almost a year. pls accept this humble offering. for those of you still reading this, ily.

“Where is she?”

Tearing across the room, you rip the card from the lilies, taking a handful of the flowers along with you. Jungkook stares at you, a hint of fear in his eyes.

You’ve cracked. Shattered, and the pieces of you that were still intact are scattering across the ground until the only thing that’s left are the mangled lilies hanging from your hand.

“Who? What’s…tell me what’s going on!” He calls after you, wincing from the effort it took to yell. “Hey!”

You’re gone, out the door and striding down the corridor with death in your eyes. Namjoon and Hoseok appear, guns drawn. “What’s wrong?” Namjoon asks.

Fire licks up your veins just looking at him. All you can see is her, reflected in his eyes.

“Where’s Victoria?”

He stiffens, jaw set at the mere mention of her name. “What did she do?”

“Where is she?”

Hoseok answers after seeing the stricken look on Namjoon’s face. “Kitchen.”

It’s all the answer you need, already breaking out into a run. Hoseok hangs back, ducking his head into Jungkook’s room. Namjoon is hot on your heels, looking for all the world as though he’s trying to come up with an explanation but doesn’t dare hope for one.

“Victoria!” Shout echoing down the staircase, you take the stairs two at a time. The kitchen light is on, the voices inside quieting. All you see is red as you jump down to the landing. Free hand fumbling for something – anything. A knife, a gun, an old newspaper.

A pack of gum is all you can find in your pockets, but you hold it as if it’s your preferred weapon as you burst into the kitchen. Both Yoongi and Jimin sit at the island, the latter holding a spoon of cereal to his mouth.

Victoria sits at the table, feet up, face hiding behind a book. Her eyes are icy as they flick up to your form, sliding to the hulking figure of Namjoon behind you.

Taking advantage of the distraction, you huck the pack of gum with every ounce of power you have.

It flies through the air, spiraling as it shoots like a torpedo before connecting square with Victoria’s exposed forehead.

“You little-” she drops the book, massaging the already red welt. “Did you just hit me with a pack of gum?”

Legs carrying you over to the table, you sidestep a bemused Yoongi and yank Victoria’s chair out. “Recognize this?” The card hits the table along with the lilies, crest facing the ceiling. Victoria has the good sense to flinch away from it as if it were a live snake baring its fangs.

“What are you on about this time?” Her eyes meet yours, that insufferable smirk eating up her face. You have half a mind to slap it off, raising your hand to do so, but something holds you back.

No, not something. Someone.

“Let me go,” you hiss, yanking your hand from Namjoon’s grasp. He stares down at you with a stony expression, jaw twitching. “And you,” stepping closer, you block off any escape route. “You have ten seconds to tell me how this got here before I pick a bone to break.”

Namjoon shuffles closer, eyes lit from the inside with an unholy flame. “Skipping straight to violence, capa? Since when were you the one to get their hands dirty?”

“Don’t think I’m about to start paying you for your opinion.”

Yoongi appears at Namjoon’s shoulder. “Step back, Namjoon.”

“Are you kidding me right now? She’s gonna kill her!”

“That’s sweet, Joon,” Victoria croons, sparing him a withering look. “Glad to see you still care when it’s convenient.”

Yoongi pulls Namjoon back a few steps, the job considerably easier now that he’s been impaled on Victoria’s barbed words. Jimin remains at the island, pouring more cereal into his bowl while he watches the show.

“Ten seconds,” you remind Victoria. She rolls her eyes, grabbing the crest and holding it up to the light. “Did Yadiel teach you the easiest way to break a clavicle, too?”

She snarls, throwing the card back onto the table. “He taught me lots of things, kid, though I doubt he dared touch you. His precious little student could never stoop to such lows, could she?”

Seokjin has wandered in now, taking in the view with an air of boredom. He approaches the island, tapping Jimin’s shoulder. “This seat taken?”

“All yours.”

“Your nose might be the better choice,” you muse, cold fury sludging through your bloodstream. “It might be an improvement.”

Victoria laughs, the sound high and shrill. It grates against your ears. “You really think you’re something, don’t you? I’m absolutely terrified. Look, I’m shaking.” She extends her arm out in a mock show-and-tell, and you seize it, holding her elbow straight.

Voice dropping into a lover’s murmur, you approach a different tactic. “Shaking like you do when you let yourself fall asleep?” Victoria’s face flickers between resentment and shock as you speak. “I’ve heard you calling out, Victoria. What are you dreaming about?” She shuts down, expression turning impassive in a last-ditch effort to avoid showing her hand. “Do you lie to yourself and say that you would’ve killed him if you had the chance? Is the fact that I’m the one that did it what keeps you up at night?”

One moment, you’re standing before her, and the next she’s pinning you to the ground. Stars dance in your vision as your skull hits the tile, the world a mess of gnashing teeth and hair. You struggle to get a hand free, distracting her as you suddenly flip your weight, sending her toppling to the floor beneath you. Somehow you clamber to your feet, momentum churning.

“You ran away!” She accuses, kicking out as you lunge for her. Blinded by rage, you receive the kick square in the stomach. “You shot him, and all this time, you’ve probably thought that he was afraid of you. That he never sought you out for fear that you’d finish what you started.”

“I did,” you wheeze. Around the kitchen, everyone stands frozen. Seokjin keeps twitching in his seat, jaw set. “I killed him, in the end.”

“Only because Taehyung let you.”

Your head snaps up to see the expression on her face. Braid undone; Victoria’s greasy hair frames the exhausted expression on her face. “He didn’t…” but you trail off, unable to finish the sentence. Victoria nods before lashing out once more, going for your legs. This time you expect it, spinning out and tripping her. Instead of dropping to the ground she grunts, pulling you down with her. Your teeth sing with the impact.

“Yadiel waited for Taehyung’s order to return like a good dog. Why do you think that was? He wanted you back, Bianchi. Talked about it all the time.” She laughs as you elbow her, causing her to lose her grip. “I almost killed him myself a couple times purely because he wouldn’t shut up about his little Bianchi princess!”

The thought makes your stomach flip, recalling the feeling of his breath curling over your ear – the prolonged touches along your hips as he adjusted your stance.

You try to roll away, but Victoria is faster. She pulls you back, sitting on your spine as your face digs into the floor. “You wonder why he dressed me up in red? Have you ever thought about that? Red dresses, red nails, red lips. Everything red – I think it helped him forget that I was just a consolation prize. Something Taehyung gifted him to keep him quiet.”

The humiliation of being pummeled in front of your crew makes your cheeks burn a sharper scarlet, but try as you might to break free, Victoria holds on all the tighter. She isn’t done.

“You have no idea what he had planned for you, do you? The life he wanted. All the things he was going to…” Victoria stumbles over her own words, her breath catching.

The truth is staring you in the face, and you think you’re going to be sick on the kitchen floor. Swallowing hard, you close your eyes against the thought.

“I’m you.” She rises with one last push off your body, sneering. Even with your blurred vision you can see the tear tracks on her cheeks. “I’m the version that couldn’t get away. Better looking, smarter. Not quite as noble as his little Bianchi. But you all the same.”

Victoria walks back to the table, ignoring you as you flip onto your back. Grabbing the lilies and the card, she stands above you. You stare back up at her, having the distinct feeling that you’re six feet under, staring up from your grave as she throws flowers down.

“If you think for even one second that I’d do anything for Kim Taehyung, I’ll personally dig your grave next to Yadiel’s. Understood?”

Nobody speaks as she storms from the kitchen, leaving you still on your back. You can hear every step she takes up the stairs, stomping away back to whatever hole it is she hides in when she wishes to disappear. The kitchen is silent as a mouse as everyone sits in shock, staring down at your prone body.

“She’s got spirit, Namjoon,” you spit out. “I’ll give you that.”

Namjoon looks disheveled despite the fact that Victoria never laid a finger on him. He clears his throat, tearing his eyes away from your glare.

“I’m…”

“Don’t apologize.” You roll up onto your knees, back screaming in protest. No serious damage, but enough to bruise more than your pride. “Run a perimeter around the building.”

He doesn’t stick around long enough to say anything more, Yoongi hot on his heels. Jimin’s eyes dance between their retreating figures and you. “Er…So, I’m gonna go see a guy about some hubcaps…”

As soon as he vanishes, you become ultra-aware of being alone here with Seokjin. He strides over, kneeling in front of you so he’s eye level.

“Where’d you find this?” He asks, picking the discarded card up from off the floor. The sight of it makes you nauseas.

“Flowers. On Jungkook’s side table.”

“Oh.” He lets it flutter back to the ground, fingers finding your hair as he pushes it back gently. “How’d that feel?”

Your eyes shut, forcing yourself to see nothing but black. “Which part? The part when I realized that our security measures are an absolute joke? Or when I got laid out by Namjoon’s ex?”

Seokjin cracks a smile that quickly turns into a sympathetic wince. “If it makes you feel any better, you just got more action than Namjoon’s had in years.”

Croaking out a laugh, you lean heavily on the side of the table and rise to your feet. Seokjin watches your every breath, something hard and calculating hiding behind those dark eyes of his.

“Spit it out,” you say, although it comes out as more of a whisper than anything.

“I just…” he shakes his head. “Not sure this is the appropriate moment to say this-”

“Seokjin.” He meets your eyes at your firm tone. “Out with it.”

He frowns, staring down at the table. It strikes you at that moment just how tall he is. He certainly towers over you, but it’s the way he’s ever so slightly hunched over, as if shielding you from what lies beyond these four walls. It makes you lean in a little closer, hand reaching out to grasp the sleeve of his sweater.

Seokjin’s eyes flash as you sway into view, latching onto yours with an electric shock. He visibly swallows before he speaks.

“If you’re going to fight,” he murmurs, “you need to avoid getting so beat up.”

You can’t help but scoff. “Are you seriously telling me to win next time?”

“And if I am?”

“Well,” you shrug. “It couldn’t be helped. She was better. Angrier.”

Seokjin shakes his head, eyes dropping to the ground as he steps closer, effectively trapping you against the table. You rest against it, arching a brow.

This man. You don’t know where you two stand, or where you’re going. Everything since that night you kissed is a blur – a memory that you find playing on repeat at all hours of the day. Whatever this is, it’s impossible not to feel as if you’re being pulled in by his personal magnetic field.

He grasps your hands only to plant them firmly on the tabletop, making you lean back even farther. Any hope that he didn’t hear your faint gasp is diminished when he grins, cheeks reddening.

“Next time, it’s ok to play a little dirty,” he whispers. He clamps down on his smile long enough to nose along your throat. You wonder if he can feel your heart pounding as he pauses, lips trailing just below your jaw.

Your eyes slip shut as you frown. “That’s hardly fair,” you respond, lungs no longer functioning as Seokjin plants an obscenely innocent kiss to your neck. It’s quickly followed by another, this one much slower.

You can feel his smile against your skin, sending goosebumps racing along your flesh. “You’re seriously concerned about fair? In our line of work?”

It’s silly, you know that. To be concerned about keeping score while working as a glorified thief. Yet it’s how you’ve always worked. Keeping track of the hits, as though counting cards in a casino.

A part of you had always thought that you could anticipate when the next blow would come. Now, you can hardly get back up again before Taehyung strikes again.

Seokjin pauses, straightening up until he meets your eyes.

“You’re thinking about him again.”

Not a question – not that it needs to be. He seems to be able to sense it whenever you get sidetracked like this. It’s certainly not the first time that it’s come between you and what you want.

Which is Seokjin. Your heart seems to beat out his name as you frown. Seok-jin, Seok-jin. Seok-jin.

It’s a struggle to not lean forward, lose yourself in his touch rather than have to face the issue nipping at your skin.

“I don’t want to be,” you whisper, eyes closing. “I hate this. Everything he’s left behind.”

“What will you do?”

There’s his lips again, whispering into your hair. He’s pulling you against him, letting you rest in his arms. Your mind flicks back to your earlier revelation. Seokjin, coming into your bedroom. Checking on you. Just making sure you’re still there.

You’re both too broken for this.

“Tonight? Start looking into staff. Doctors, nurses, janitors. Whoever might be on his side. Someone here must have planted the card.”

A pause. “And then?”

“Seokjin, I...” you chew on the inside of your cheek as the truth roils through your veins. Leaning back, you look up into his dark eyes. See the fear that sometimes grips him in the middle of the night, lingering just below the surface. The something else that you never know what to make of.

You let out a long breath. The something else in his eyes wins out.

“I’ll go with you.”

Killing a man has consequences. Of the bad sort, typically. Jail time, guilty conscience, a trail of blood and tears left behind. Nasty business.

Yet standing here, now, you just can’t find it in yourself to care.

“Jungkook, lay down.”

He obliges, bed creaking. The glare he directs toward the end of his nose is most likely directed your way, although you can’t be sure. It could be for the chocolate pudding, now out of reach.

Hoseok, sitting on the edge of his bed, reaches it and passes it back to him. “So...how do you want to go about this?”

Everyone is here, even Victoria. She sits in the back, near the door. There’s a bruise blooming along her jaw. This you add to the list of things you don’t care about. Besides, you’re fairly certain she gave you a concussion.

“Do we even have eyes on his location?” Jimin asks. “Did he actually go home?”

Yoongi clears his throat. “He was last spotted five days ago. Looks like he’s holed up in his family’s estate for the moment.”

Like the rat he is.

You clap your hands together, wincing at the loud sound. “Great. Here’s the thing – we can’t all hop on a plane and jet over to Italy-”

“Sicily,” Jimin and Hoseok speak in unison.

“Same thing. We can’t all show up looking for him. We’d be caught out in no time. So – here's the deal. Yoongi, you’re here. We have business with the Genovese family, which you’ll be heading up. Don’t look at me like that – we've talked about this. Jimin, Hoseok, you’ll be helping him.”

Hoseok frowns, but it’s Jimin that complains. “There’s no way you’re leaving me behind. You’ve already broken the terms of our contract-”

Your ears burn bright red as you recall that Jimin – Jimin, the gods-forsaken heathen – is the one who found out about you and Seokjin. And now he’s blackmailing you with it.

“- and I’ll do much worse than that if you don’t do as I ask,” you finish for him, offering up a sickly sweet smile. “Namjoon, Seokjin, with me. We’ll be leaving first thing tomorrow for Italy-”

“Sicily,” Jimin groans forlornly.

“- so pack your bags. We’ll go over the details on the plane and fill the rest of you in.”

Jungkook makes a sound of protest from his bed, and struggles to sit up on his elbows. “Take me with you!”

“No.”

“Sorry, I meant to say, I’m going with you.”

You turn your back on him, heading toward the door. “No, you’re not. You’re not in any state to go anywhere right now, Kook. You’ll stay here. When you’re ready, you’ll join Yoongi and assist him here.”

“But I-”

His protests are cut off by an icy voice. “I’m going with you.”

You stop in your tracks. “You don’t want that.”

Victoria rises from her seat. The fire in her eyes hasn’t gone down yet. If anything, it’s burning brighter than before. As she nudges past Namjoon, she tilts her chin up a bit higher.

“Take me with you.”

She stops right in front of you, and you see it, then. What she needs. All the pent up anger and the sheer sense of loss she must feel after losing herself to Yadiel.

All of it is Taehyung’s fault.

I’m you, she’d said in the kitchen. As she gazes into your eyes unflinchingly, you can’t help but know she’s right.

“One condition.”

Her head tllts to the side, interested. “Name your price.”

The smile threatening to break through is difficult to contain. Still, you manage it. “Teach me how to fight like you.”

Victoria grins, and the sight is unnerving. Feral.

A reflection of yourself.

“Deal.”

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udretlnea · 1 year

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The Interesting Inazumans

Prompt: Inspired by this post

A/N: I love writing shenanigans. Also, happy birthday to me AND I’m quite excited to play Honkai Star Rail; I meant to have this up earlier, but I lost motivation 75% of the way through and that was quite annoying to deal with. Furthermore, this is more or less set-up for what I have planned next. Nothing too exciting I’m afraid, but think of it this way: if I kept writing exciting action scenes, then it would slowly lose its charm. Thus, it’s better to space things apart to keep things interesting. (By the time of writing this, my birthday will have passed.)

Words: 1386

Part two to, “An Idealized Image”.

Tags: @iruiji , @kamiyadidi

Kamisato Ayaka stood on the sidelines watching Yoimiya and Itto with confusion and interest; Kuki Shinobu merely looked down in shame, a hand covering her eyes. Heizou was standing on the side as well, looking at the beetle battle with interest and a hint of amusement. Gorou and Kirara were barking and hissing at each other, respectively; Kokomi tried to calm him down to little effect.

The scene was pure chaos. Truly, this was an embarrassment to your pride as the Divine Overseer; nothing could make you feel worse.

Two weeks since your arrival

It hasn’t even been a month, yet you are beginning to get accustomed to your new life as “Divine Overseer”. You were resting on your bed, recovering from your sword training with Ei.

Let’s recap: After waking up in Chinju Forest and observing your appearance, you walked all the way to Inazuma City; when your stomach growled, you grabbed the first edible thing you saw which just so happened to look like raspberry, but yellow. Nobody paid attention to you when you arrived; the ones that did notice usually stared for a little and then went about their day. That suited you just fine since you couldn’t come up with a backstory to save your life.

You wandered around the city, eventually making your way to the Statue of the Omnipresent God. You felt drawn towards it, like something was calling to you something deep inside of you.

Then, Kujou Sara appeared behind you before you could get a chance to examine it further. With how much you suspiciously resembled a divine being you were brought into Tenshukaku. After answering some rather fascinating questions thank goodness they spoke something similar to English because you were dead if they spoke Japanese about a being called the Primordial One and passing a blood test you still remember the awe you felt when you bled silver instead of dark red you automatically were given a room in Tenshukaku.

The news spread like wildfire until even those from Watatsumi came to profess their faith and wishes. At first you felt unworthy of such a title, and who could blame you? You were some no-name nobody who appeared out of nowhere; not that you weren’t ungrateful for this cover, but still, if they ever found out the truth they’d probably have your head. Best to keep it to yourself for now.

According to your individual research, this “divine overseer” was charged with making preperations for the return of some being called the Primordial One; they sounded quite important from the title alone. You weren’t terribly worried, not when you had an entire nation to assist you in this endeavor.

You adjusted to this sudden schedule rather quickly, in no small part thanks to Kujou Kamaji being assigned to help ease you into this…fascinating position. You were given a routine to follow: Calligraphy in the morning, bow training with Sara in the afternoon, and learning how to wield a sword with Ei at night. You didn’t know why you had to wield a weapon, let alone know how to fight with one, but any knowledge is useful and who wouldn’t want to know how to wield two weapons?

Your eyes began to feel heavy, and before long you drifted off to sleep.

Okay, the domain’s ready. Dropping it in 3…2…1…now.

Hey, update. Apparently Honkai Star Rail’s releasing later today. We’re not gonna finish in time.

…Okay. That’s bad, but we do have a protocol for that.

Understood. I’ll execute it now.

/////

The next afternoon, you found yourself sipping tea with Ei. Normally, you would be practicing shooting a bow with Sara, but the entirety of the Shogunate seems to have been gaslit by the sudden appearance of a new domain. It just appeared near Tatarasuna in Kannazuka Island. With it being so close to Kujou Encampment, Sara was the first to be informed and quickly led an investigation of the area.

All of this, Ei told you as she poured another cup for you, was because all of Narukami had dreamt the same thing last night: A dream involving you.

“Oh…I see. Did they say if they remembered any details?” You press gently, but Ei shook her head.

“Nothing clear. However, Kujou Kamaji has stated that the only consistent thing each person remembers is of a person whom they recall has hair as white as snow and yellow pupils…”

“I see…” You finish your tea rather quickly, earning a mean look from Ei. You set your cup down and cross your arms. “Then…I suppose there’s only one thing left to do.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Which is?”

“To take control of the situation, gather members for an exploration team, and then plan for the exploration itself,” you casually stated. You stood up from the mat and walked towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Ei asked. You heard a mixture of concern and confusion in her voice, despite her attempt at hiding it. You turned your head to address her.

“Huh? I thought my plan would have informed you? I’m going to go find some willing volunteers to explore the domain.”

/////

It took an additional amount of time than you would’ve liked because Ei argued it, “wasn’t the Overseer’s duty to attend to such trivial matters when she could get a servant to do it”. Some back-and-forth banter later and a compromise was reached: gather some of Inazuma’s Vision holders plus some adventurers from the Guild to create an exploration team with.

A couple days later, the meeting was held inside Tenshukaku in the main room where the Shogun usually resided; Ei went to the Grand Narukami Shrine to speak with Miko, but she reassured you she wouldn’t take long.

Something you kept telling yourself even as Arataki “Numero Uno” Itto gave a come-at-me gesture to Naganohara Yoimiya; the two engaged in an Onikabuto battle then and there to decide who would accompany you, which begged the question why did they have Onikabuto with them?

Meanwhile, Kamisato Ayaka stood on the sidelines watching in confusion and interest; Kuki Shinobu merely looked down in shame, a hand covering her eyes. Heizou was standing some way off, looking at the beetle battle with interest and a hint of amusement. Gorou and Kirara were barking and hissing at each other, respectively; Kokomi tried to calm him down to little effect.

The scene was pure chaos. Truly, this was an embarrassment to your pride as the Divine Overseer; nothing could make you feel more ashamed.

And then the doors opened. Almost comically, everybody paused to see who had arrived. They were basked in the light so only their silhouettes showed; then they casually strode forth, revealing a blonde female with a flower in her hair and a white haired…fairy(?).

“Uhh, Paimon’s confused. What’s going on here?” asked the white-haired fairy. She looked at each and every Vision holder. “Why are you all acting so out of character?”

“If you ask me, this bonehead over here is acting like himself.” Shinobu crossed her arms and glared at the oni.

“Oh! Lu-Lumine! What an unexpected surprise!” Kamisato Ayaka put a hand on her chest. “It’s been so long since we’ve last seen each other…”

Lumine? You mean the same Lumine that managed to defeat a dragon, help stop a god that could command the ocean, and abolish the Vision Hunt Decree? You think to yourself with a growing sense of horror. Oh great, they’re definitely gonna judge me harshly. Somebody kill me now.

“Hello Ayaka. It’s nice to see you too,” she said plainly yet with a friendly tone. Then she put a hand to her chin. “But Paimon’s right. What happened here?”

“Well…you see, we all arrived here when the Divine Overseer put out a request to help with this Domain…” Yoimiya began.

By the time Yoimiya finished the explanation, everyone had cleaned up their act and was now kneeling on the tatami mats; they faced you with a neutral expression as if they hadn’t engaged in shenanigans earlier. The firework girl took a spot next to Kamisato Ayaka. Lumine stood in the back, and Paimon floated beside her.

At last, you can get to building a team. You pray that nothing bad would happen.

Excellent. I think we can let it go here. Come on. It’s starting soon.

#genshin imagines #sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin fic #yeah you're not quite the creator here #mixing things up is healthy for the sagau-verse #at least that's what I believe so...#fyi i'm may or may not play Honkai Star Rail #after this upload I mean everything's planned already #everyone here in the sagau-branch has stuff outside of writing #my point is I'm gonna take some me time #but expect some minor memes/sketches/imagines soon

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janaispunk · 2 months

Text

end game

series masterlist �� this is part VII

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

word count: ~3.8k

summary: Heartbreak, an explanation and an epilogue.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), angst, feelings, heartbreak, depression, mention of weight loss, fluff, able-bodied reader, reader has hair, dom!Dave, sub!reader, sir kink, degradation kink, fingering, unprotected p in v (it's never stated in the fic but i headcanon that reader is on birth control), basically free use kink, rough sex, dirty talk, spanking, spit kink, praise kink, Dave is a menace, praise kink, idiots in love, please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: the biggest thank you to @joelscurls for letting me scream about this again and againnnnn, and reading over my drafts countless times, you’re the best, jess! <3

thank you to @daddy-dins-girl for talking plot holes with me and motivating me to write <3

thank you to everyone who has read and loved this series, i have received sooooo many kind words, feedback and just so much love. i started writing this as a pwp oneshot and the fact that it has turned into my first series ever and one that i had soooo much fun with is wild. i’m incredibly emotional about saying goodbye to my babies, maybe i’ll revisit them when i need to write some kinky shit out of my system haha. i hope that you like the ending that i’ve built for them.

a few words about the plot: i actually have zero clue how the hitman business works (shocker, i know), so some parts of this are purposefully vague in a way that i hope is believable and somewhat realistic. just roll with it, thanks :D

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics 🫶🏻

find my full masterlist here & follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates.

The first week you don’t hear from Dave, you’re confused, but not necessarily worried yet. There have been weeks of silence in the past, though you’ll admit that you had thought that things might be… different now.

Your texts to him stay on delivered, never switching to read. Which has also happened before, especially when he was away on business, but still… The thought that he has gone back to his normal life without sparing as much as a glance back at your time together is nagging at you.

You can still feel his hands on your skin, can still hear him whisper in your ear how beautiful you look, how perfect you are for him. It’s hard to come to terms with the thought that it wasn’t real, that his words and actions didn’t hold the same weight for him that they did for you. Reality has finally caught up to you and it hurts.

When two weeks blend into three weeks and you’ve still heard nothing, you start getting worried. He had said his line of work was dangerous, after all.

Your conversation, still so close and yet a lifetime ago, echoes in your mind. 'Nothing's gonna happen,’ you had said. ‘Not to the girls, not to me. And not to you.’ And not to you. ‘You don’t know that, sweetheart,’ his voice rings through your head. Sweetheart. The word tastes bitter on your tongue and wraps itself around your chest until you feel like you’re choking with it, like you can’t draw breath into your lungs anymore.

Sweetheart.

You don’t know that.

Sweetheart.

You start looking him up online, to find anything that might at least tell you that he’s okay. You don’t want to believe that he would be cruel enough to ghost you, but you barely dare to consider the alternative. You find nothing, no mention of his name, like he doesn’t even exist.

Your calls stay unanswered, your messages stay unread. You find yourself subconsciously checking your texts and your emails countless times a day, catch yourself staring out of your window in the blind hope that he might appear outside. He wouldn’t just leave you like this, would he? Would he?

Days blur into weeks and eventually into months. You’re painfully aware that it’s not healthy, this kind of heartbreak, especially not over a relationship that never even meant anything. If only your heart would understand that.

It was never serious enough that you told any of your friends about it, never wanted to be labeled as the girl that sleeps with married men, never wanted to admit your feelings to someone else when you could barely admit them to yourself. Regardless, even without knowing what exactly was going on, your friends had tried to be there for you, to convince you to go out with them, to cheer you up, but you had turned them down often enough that on this Friday night, your phone stays silent.

It’s better this way. All you want to do is rot away on your couch, staring at the TV with unseeing eyes until it’s an acceptable time to go to bed. Maybe it won’t take you hours of lying in the dark to fall asleep tonight. Maybe it won’t remind you of a different kind of darkness in a different room, a room where the sound of waves against the shore and the deep breaths beside you lulled you to sleep.

You need to get yourself together, your inner voice whispers. Next week, you think. Or the one after that.

A knock on your door shakes you out of your thoughts and you pad over, expecting to be met with the Chinese takeout that you had ordered in hopes of fueling your appetite at least a bit with the prospect of comfort food. Absentmindedly, you note the surprisingly short delivery time. You barely look up as you swing the door open, busy fiddling with your purse to extract a few dollar bills.

After finally managing to pull them out, you face the doorway. A greeting dies in your throat.

Familiar deep brown eyes burn into yours, framed by the face that you wish you’d forget but can’t. The short brown hair, the clean shaven jawline that you can still feel underneath your fingertips, the memory all too fresh in your mind. He looks tired, you think, and instantly scold yourself for knowing him well enough to even notice.

The seconds tick by as you motionlessly stare at him, blinking slowly, your mind running a mile a minute. Why is he here? He can’t be here. Are you making this up? If so, things are far worse than you had thought.

He clears his throat, shifting his weight uncomfortably. It’s probably the least sure of himself that you’ve ever seen him.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his hand twitching like he almost reached out to you but changed his mind. “Can I- can I come in?”

You regard him for a moment longer. The sound of his voice makes him appear more real, and the fog in your head slowly clears. He’s alive. He’s here. In front of your door. Alive and well. Your emotions boil up inside of you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! You think you can just show up here after months and ask if you can come in? I thought you were… I thought…”

Your voice betrays you, breaking at the sharp sting of pain in your chest that you’ve fruitlessly tried to suppress and the feeling of your throat closing up. Tears spill over and you furiously wipe at your cheeks, determined to keep some semblance of dignity.

“I know,” Dave breathes, defeatedly. “I’m so sorry. Please let me explain.” His hand reaches towards you again. You shy away from his touch and an expression of hurt ripples across his face. “Please, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Your voice only trembles a little as you snap at him. After another look at his face, you eventually step aside and jerk your head towards your living area. You briefly think about how messy the place is, for how many weeks you didn’t have it in yourself to clean up. You can’t bring yourself to care. Seeing him walk through your flat again after being so painfully aware of his absence leaves you almost dizzy. You take the opposite ends of your couch, both of your bodies stiff, careful not to touch one another.

“Okay,” you sigh. “Explain.”

So he explains. How he received a call, barely thirty minutes after he stepped into his house, with a mission that was too perfect of an opportunity to pass it up. There had been no time to let you know, the risk too high to use his personal phone once he started working.

He goes back to the persona that took up half of his life for so long, the identity that is no more, the man that fell down a watchtower and was washed away by the sea. Body never found. At least that’s what everyone who knew this man thinks. Everyone who knew him, but not Dave York.

He’s been thorough with it, with the most important mission he’s ever done. There are no loose ends, no one who could trace things back to the real him.

It took longer than he had anticipated and he kept laying low afterwards, until he could be absolutely sure that no one would be looking for him anymore.

He doesn’t think that he’ll ever get rid of the worry, ever stop looking over his shoulder, but rationally, he knows that he did it. He got out.

Then he had talked to Carol, let her know that he wants a divorce. It had been- easy, almost. She didn’t cry, didn’t scream at him, just nodded like she had known this day would come for a long time. He thinks that she almost seemed relieved, in a way.

Your eyes had been glued to his face since he started speaking. Tears are silently running down your cheeks.

“I know that I should have found a way to contact you. I didn’t-” He sighs, running a hand over his face. “I didn’t know what to do. I was so worried that someone would find out about you. I never wanted to hurt you, you have to believe that.” He knows that he looks a mess, that his desperation to make you understand is written all over his features.

Every day that he didn’t call you, he knew that he was hurting you. He tried justifying it with himself, that having you think he left you was better than risking somebody coming after you. It never gave him much comfort.

It’s even worse, now that he sees the damage he had done. You have lost weight, deep circles have formed under your eyes and you move like you’re barely holding yourself together. He saw the panic on your face when he tried reaching for you at the door. No matter what he had done to you in the past, you always sought out the safety of his touch afterwards. Until now.

“Please believe me,” he whispers.

You study his face for what feels like a lifetime. Tears are glistening on your lashes. You look so tired, so defeated that it makes his heart ache.

“You’ve done it?” you finally ask. Your voice is a quiet thing, barely bridging the distance between the two of you. A flicker of hope rings with it. “You’re safe now?”

He nods silently, fighting the urge to gather you in his arms, to promise you that he’ll always be there from now on. A small smile curves your lips upward as you mirror his nod, like you’re trying to let this new reality sink in.

“That’s good,” you murmur.

You lean forward, your fingers tentatively closing around his fist that’s clenched tightly against his thigh.

Hope flickers inside his chest. He can taste the three words that he’s been wanting to say to you for far too long on the tip of his tongue. He’s not going to, not right now, not today. But someday soon, he thinks that he might.

Two years later

“Bye girls, say hi to your mom and Matt from me,” you smile, embracing each of them in a tight hug before they dash out of the door, a jumble of giggles and excited chatter. Dave trails behind them with a grin on his face, pecking your lips and calling out for them to slow down.

Your heart is full, overflowing with love for this family that, against all odds, has become yours. You watch Dave usher his daughters into the car and push the doors closed behind them, the smile still on your lips. As you walk back into the house, your eyes linger on the thin silver band adorning your ring finger.

It’s still new, still an unexpected sight when you catch it on the edge of your periphery. It’s the tangible proof of you being the happiest you’ve ever been.

Things had been rough at first, after Dave came back to you. You understood why he handled the situation the way he did, but it took you a long time to trust that he wouldn’t disappear again. To believe that he left his old life behind, that he chose you. But he did.

You busy yourself with cleaning up the inevitable chaos that having the girls over for Dave’s days with them always creates. It’s not the life that you would have expected yourself to have a few years ago, but right now, it feels like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

A few minutes later, your phone pings with a message from Dave.

Be back in 15. I expect you naked and on your knees waiting by the door.

You bite your lip, heat building inside you with rapid speed. Your phone pings again.

Don’t disappoint me.

Fuck. Wetness is already gathering between your legs as you jump into action.

The car door slamming shut has never sounded so good before. You’re listening intently, catching Dave’s heavy footsteps on the stairs and the jingle of his keys before the door opens beside where you’re kneeling.

You look up at him from your place on the floor, watching the mix of smugness and adoration on his face as he takes in your position. A shudder runs through you and your nipples harden under his demanding gaze. He steps closer, caressing your cheek.

“Such a good girl… my obedient little wife, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you whimper, the coherent thoughts slowly draining from your brain and craving more of his touch, more of him.

He smiles down at you, his eyes glinting predatorily. You’ve come to know this shift into the darkness since you first met, but it’s more playful these days, not laced with the urgency that possessed him back then. Still, he gets intense, especially after having the girls over forces you to keep things rather tame during those days.

“Show me your ass, face on the ground, come on,” he demands coldly.

You obey without question, turning around and bending forward, pressing your upper body down to the floor and presenting your backside to him. He lands a couple of slaps on your cheeks and you flinch, moaning out softly. Your pussy already feels slick with arousal.

“What do you say?” he asks, rubbing his hand over the heated skin.

“Thank you, sir,” you whisper.

Another slap hits you. “Do you know what you did to deserve this?”

You wrack your brain for a few moments, but come up blank.

“I- no, sir.” Your voice is small and breathy, your body bracing for the impact of his hand again.

He chuckles. “Nothing. I just felt like it.” Another slap. “And you’re mine to do as I please, isn’t that right?” Your thighs are trembling. You’re so wet that it feels like you’re dripping onto the floor.

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“You know what’s the most fucked up about this?” He crouches down beside your face and strokes your cheek softly, smiling down at you. “How much you whore like it.”

He straightens up and heads for the stairs. “Bedroom, come on.”

You don’t even try standing up, knowing that he won’t let you, and crawl behind him, which earns you another chuckle and a “good girl”.

The image of your naked form on your knees behind Dave who hasn’t removed a stitch of clothing sends another bolt of arousal through you. You’re desperate for him to touch you.

He roughly lifts you up and manhandles you onto the bed until you’re spread out underneath him.

“So…” He grabs your wrists and holds them over your head, pressing them into the mattress. “These stay right here, you hear me? Don’t move, or do I have to restrain you?”

You pout at the prospect of not being allowed to put your hands on him, but obediently hold them in place when he eases his grip on you. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

He grins down at you. “I know you will. Got my girl well trained, haven’t I?”

His words make your pussy clench around nothing and your “yes, sir” comes out in a whimper.

He leans in closer, spreading your thighs wider with his body and you force yourself not to buck your hips up against him. The craving for any part of him to touch you, for any kind of friction, is overwhelming.

“Please, sir,” you whisper. Your pleading eyes hold his cold gaze as he’s leaning over you.

“Patience,” he growls. “Open your mouth.” A disapproving click of his tongue. “Wider.”

You part your lips as widely as you can, sticking your tongue out and trying not to squirm against the sheets. He remains motionless for a few seconds, taking in your desperate state with a cruel smirk on his face.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. Then he tips his head forward and spits into your waiting mouth. The filthy feeling of his saliva coating your tongue and filling your mouth almost drives you insane with want and you groan, shifting against his thick thighs between yours, but to no avail. You wait for his next command, your mouth still wide open, not daring to swallow before he tells you to.

But no command comes. Instead, he reaches up to press two fingers down on your tongue, dipping into your mouth and smearing your combined spit over your face. The silver band on his ring finger is cool against your skin and you shudder, loving the reminder that he’s really, entirely yours.

Your body feels like it’s burning up, your hands are twitching and you’re desperate to move them, to touch him, to do something, but you hold yourself still until he finally tells you to, “swallow, baby.”

He smiles and finds your lips for a surprisingly soft kiss, cupping your face in his hands. “You’re being so good,” he tells you gently. “Are you having fun?”

“Yes,” you smile, chasing his lips when he pulls back, but he tuts at you and you fall back against the bed, huffing out a breath. “Just… please.”

“Patience,” he reminds you, the softness gone as quick as it came. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

You bite your lip, but stay put while he stands up to finally start removing his clothes. He’s agonizingly slow with it, holding your hungry gaze while he unbuttons his shirt in unhurried movements that make you want to tear the clothes off his body yourself.

You drink him in, first the sight of his broad chest and his strong shoulders, then his muscular legs, and finally, making your mouth water and your pussy burn with desire, his cock.

As much as he keeps taunting you, you know him well enough by now to be able to tell that he’s just as desperate for you as you are for him, even when he’s trying to conceal it. He returns to you, sitting back on his haunches and drinking you in, until after what feels like hours, he finally reaches out and swirls his fingers through the wetness between your legs. It’s a barely there touch, but you’re so painfully turned on and sensitive that you let out a gasp.

“So fucking wet,” he marvels and applies the slightest bit of pressure to your clit. It’s enough to make you see stars and you’re sure that he could make you come just from this. But, of course he won’t. He laughs at your reaction and retracts his hand to lean forward instead until he’s on top of you again, your legs spread wide to accommodate him and his cock slides through your folds.

He lowers his head to nip and suck at the skin under your jaw, one hand toying with your breasts and your hardened nipples. Your whole body is buzzing, he’s so close and it’s so much, but it’s not enough, not enough, not enough.

“What do you want, baby?” he asks, peppering your skin with kisses and rocking his hips in small movements that make his cock nudge at your clit over and over.

“F-fuck me, please, I’ll do anything,” you beg, your body still obediently stretched out underneath him with your arms above your head. He nods wordlessly and reaches down to position himself at your soaking entrance.

“Be as loud as you want,” he growls against your neck. “I missed making you scream.”

He bites at your skin at the same time as his thrust into you punches the air from your lungs. You scream, just like he asked, as he hammers into you, his lips still attached to your neck, sucking and biting at the delicate skin. The sensation of finally being filled by him, of feeling the stinging stretch of the way he forcefully pounds into you is like heaven. You think that you’re talking, crying out a mix of his name and sir and please over and over.

You’re flying towards your climax and judging from his groans, he can already feel you tighten around him.

“Go ahead,” he groans, before you’ve even strung the words to ask for permission together in your mind. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

He pinches your nipple just once and the additional sensation is enough to send you flying, your pussy clenching around his cock and drenching him in your arousal as you scream out his name. It’s pure bliss, and you never want to come down.

“That’s it,” he growls, not slowing his movements, fucking you through the aftershocks until you’re a whining mess beneath him, “that’s my perfect girl, fuck-”

You force your eyes open to smile up at him, taking in the wrecked expression on his face, relishing in the knowledge that you’re the one to make him look like this. You just really wish you could touch him.

“P-please, can I-” you’re breathless, barely able to speak, and jerk your head towards your hands above you.

“Yeah,” he rasps, his thrusts somehow growing even more forceful, “do whatever you want, baby.”

Your hands fly towards his body, touching every inch of his skin that you can reach, nails digging into his back and fingers grasping at his hair, pulling him closer, closer, until he’s everywhere, all you can see, all you can taste, all you can feel.

“Fuck!” he swears, grabbing your shoulders and holding you in place as he’s pounding into you, “give me another one, touch yourself, come on-”

His thrusts are becoming erratic and you know that he’s close to his own climax. It only takes a few swipes of your fingers over your clit until you’re coming again, soaring through the heights of your pleasure, your whole body trembling with your release. Dave’s hips stutter and he comes with a shout, pulsing inside of your fluttering pussy until finally, you both still.

He drops his sweat-slicked forehead against your chest, peppering your skin with kisses and engulfing you in the warmth of his arms. After cleaning you up, he moves your bodies until you’re tucked against his side, one arm thrown across his chest while he holds you close.

You’ll never get tired of the feeling of his naked body against yours, of the way he feels like he was made for you. By now, you can admit that he had always felt like this.

“I love you,” he says, lips moving against your hair.

You press your face deeper into his neck. “I love you.”

It’s easy, now. Words that you say every day.

…and i love YOU, thank you for reading! 🤍 if you liked this, a reblog or a comment would absolutely make my day.

#janas fics #the dress series #dave york #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedrostories #pedro pascal fanfiction #dave york fanfiction #dave york smut #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader

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l0ve-bug-m1les · 10 months

Text

Spider-Band With a S/o Who Hyperfixates on Things Hard

Miles Morales, Hobie Brown, Gwen Stacy, and Pavitr Prabhakar (separate) x Gn!Reader

Warnings: None! (Except my attempt at British talking—)

Summary: Really what the title says—

A/n: This is actually an idea i had when i first fell into the spider verse fandom but didn’t have anyone to talk to about it. Glad ya’ll picked this one! Enjoy!! Also lmk if any of ya’ll wanna be on a tag list!! I know i don’t write all that much but still—

Miles Morales 🌻🎧🌻

Bby is here for it

Always listening to what you have to say and never complaining

I have a feeling he’d be just as excited as you even if he’s got no clue what you’re talking about

He’d try to get into your interests with you no matter how outlandish they may seem

(I mean he’s basically a spider what’s so weird about fnaf lore—)

Definitely draws you things based off of the subject

“You said they were your favorite, right?”

Is always sending you memes and funny videos about your interest

Asks you for updates on your interest if it’s a series

Holds you when something bad happens and you’re sad

“Shh, shh…Hey, at least they existed, right?—Oh, no that made it worse—“

Going back to rambles, he’s always listening but maybe not always looking at you

But trust me

That boy could recite what you say perfectly

He just likes to listen while he works or draws

Has definitely made a mural of you and him in the world together (used it as a date spot. It’s true, he told me)

Overall

20/10 boyfriend

(I mean they all are but like—)

Hobie Brown 🎸⚡️🎸

Will spend hours learning songs related to your interest

But then he’s like

“What? Oh, i been knowin’ this song, luv. What’re ya on about?”

Say for instance, you dive deep into an artist or band

Obviously, Hobie’s gonna ask you about them

But would never ask you for your favorite songs because he’s “Too busy writing his own”

So he just pays really close attention to the songs you talk the most about

(As i previously stated, he learns them all and plays it off)

When you figure it out he’s just like:

“Took ya long enough, luv”

He also listens to your rants about whatever it is (much like Miles and everyone else here but shhh)

But here’s why he stands out

This man can keep up

He can and will remember all about it, and basically know about much as you do

Steals things from stores that are from the series or whatever it is

“Hobie, how’d you get this?” “It was on display and i knew you’d love it.” “Wow! I thought you didn’t buy things from brands..” “…” “You stole it…”

You’re too busy loving whatever it is to stay mad

(But we all knew you weren’t mad)

If you think your interest is cringey then you’re WRONG

“But it’s for kids—“ “And? So what?” “Well…uhm….hm.” “Yeah. Thought so. Now keep goin’, I’m invested.”

(But also in general, bby. Love what you love and come to me if anyone says it “weird” or “cringey”. I’ll beat them up bestie<33)

All in all, a king<33

Gwen Stacy 🩰🥁🩰

I’m gonna be honest

She is lost

Even if you go over things twenty times she still won’t get it

And that’s okay!

She takes notes and tries to keep up

Definitely proud of herself when she gets a detail right

“And then—“ “Wait, wait. Let me guess…He…he burned the pizzeria down, right” “Uhm—yeah, actually!” “*insert proud face*”

(Woah look at the trans flag colors^^^)

Definitely binge watches or reads your interest and learns as much as she can

She keeps a notebook full of her notes that she refers back to whenever you two are on call

She played it off as writing down some notes for school

But one day, she asked you to grab her suit from inside her drum set, and you found the notebook

It caught your eye because it had the name of your interest on it and you were like:

“Hey, Gwen? What’s this?” You showed her the notebook

I wish you could see my vision

When i tell you Gwen stood there for a good minute

I mean she stood there for several

Anywho

She just admitted to it and was all red and fidgety

Since this is her world, she was cast in mostly pink and red hues and the space around her fluttered yellow

You end up going through it with her, and talk about your favorite bits

Overall? She deserves several gold stars and cookies

Pavitr Prabhakar 🍵☀️🍵

Bby is here for it

Whenever you get excited he’s excited

When you’re on the verge of tears he’s already crying

He is your favorite character’s number one supporter

He’s always going on and on with you about your interests

Because unlike the others, he manages to actually get into whatever it is you’re talking about and not just keep up

It’s honestly a skill of his

I feel like Pav also has special interests that he dives deep into

Deep deep

Same as you so you two get along well :D

He’s always looking for the newest content and sending it to you always

“Hey! They said the next episode would be released next Tuesday!! :DDD” “There’s a new theory for the last volume!”

It’d be cute if that’s how you met and became friends

You spend sleepovers diving into your shared and separate interests with eachother

You know what’d be funny?

If he also info dumps onto the villains he fights

Hear me out

Pav tying up a villain who tried to rob a place and just going

“Yeah, so me and my partner have a theory for why—“

And the villain is just like

Stfu??????

But they’d never say that because it’s Spider-Man

All in all, your number one hype man and best friend :]

———————————-

YA’LL I DID IT :DD

#i literally just sat down #opened tumblr #and boom #ya’ll #spider man: across the spider verse #miles morales #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #headcanon #pavitr prabhakar #gwen stacy #gn reader #Love ya’ll<333 #spider-man across the spiderverse x reader #miles morales x reader #hobie brown x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #gwen stacy x reader

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weak4skz · 11 months

Text

Hope is For Suckers

Han Jisung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, fluff, angst, idol au

Summary: Han and y/n have been friends since before they remember. But what happens if their friendship is severed by an unfortunate situation and Han goes off to be an idol while y/n is in college. When they connect through a mutual friend, what happens then?

Word Count: 1.3k (sorry it's short I'm just trying to get this chapter out)

CHAPTER WARNINGS: eating disorder, negative self talk/thoughts, body dysorphia, a lot of feelings, panic attack

NOT PROOF READ!!!

THIS IS NOT AN ACCURATE REPRESTATION OF THE PEOPLE MENTIONED IN THE FIC

A/N: Sorry for the really late update. I've been really busy and haven't been really motivated to write. I might but HIFS on hiatus until July but idk yet. Thank you for all the support though, I really appreciate it

want2besomeoneelse lixie-jisung-stan jisuperboard mentoslol i-dont-know-me-either mooncallerautumn poisonivy21

this is my current taglist. if your name is in read it means I can't tag you. also please comment if you would like to be added

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

When we pull into Chan’s designated parking spot I’m so nervous I could puke.

“Hey,” Chan says, gently putting a hand on my knee to stop its bouncing. “They’ll all love you just as much as I do. But if you still want to go home I’ll drive you ‘kay?”

“No, I want to meet them.” I force out of my mouth. He just nods and we both get out of the car and begin to walk towards the door. When he opens it, the first thing I notice is the smell of freshly baked brownies. Then, I hear yelling and laughing coming from the living room.

“YOU landed on MY property. PAY ME THE DANG FINE.”

Then I fear another voice scream

“YOU’RE IN JAIL! I’M NOT GIVING MONEY TO A CRIMINAL.”

“THAT’S NOT HOW YOU PLAY!!!” the first screams.

All of this over a game of monopoly?

“Boys” I mutter with a playful roll of my eyes. “I know right” Chan responds with a small smile.

Chan leads me to the living room. “Hey guys” he greets the six men casually.

“Hey Chan hyung.” one with mid length dark hair and glasses responds. “Who’s that?” he asks, pointing to me.

“This is Y/n. She’s a good friend of mine and older than half of you so show some manners and introduce yourselves.”

“I’m Jeongin” glasses says.

“Seungmin”

“I’m Felix”

“I’m sexy king Hyunjin”

“Man shut up.” the shortest says with a small laugh, “I’m Changbin”

“I’m Minho”

Then they go around again and tell me their ages. But I thought Chan told me they’re were eight members in his group? As I finish my thought, someone bursts in through the door.

“‘Sorry I’m late guys. Oh hi… what’s your name? I’m…”

“Han?”

There is a pause, a moment of silence, and for a second I regret saying anything.

“Uh yea, I’m Han Jisung. How did you know my name?”

“Chan talks about you gusy all the time. I just assumed it was you because you were the only one missing. I’m Y/n''

oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh there is no way HAN JISUNG the man who is (partially) responsible for my villain backstory is the eighth member of Chan’s band

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick” I say, trying to excuse myself from the source of my impending panic attack. I speed walk to Chan’s bathroom and lock the door behind me. Once I get the feeling that I’m safe, I slide my back down the door and sit on the floor, bringing my knees to my chest and burying my head between them. Then I try to regulate my breathing before I start hyperventilating.

Breath in, one two three, breath out. Breath in, one two three, breath out

I repeat it over anad over again until my breathing is as regulated as it is going to get. Then, I get up and fix my mascara and blot away the bits that escaped with my tears.

I walk out of the bathroom and find Chan alone in the kitchen. “Hey Chan, I’m feeling kind of sick so I think I’m going to head home.”

“Are you okay? You were fine when we were at lunch.” he looked concerned. Great, now I feel bad for lying

“I just got really bad cramps out of nowhere. And you know I get crabby wehen I don’t feel very well.” I try to end the conversation quickly so he doesn’t catch me lying. “Oh, I didn’t know you were on your period. I would have just brought lunch to your place. Let me go get my keys so I can get you home, kay?”

My period? Ohhhh, he thinks I’m on my period. Thank God he thought I was on my dperiod because I hadn’t thought that far into my lie. While celebrating that little victory, Han walks into the kitchen.

“Oh hey. I saw you were looking sick and I wanted to come check up on you” he said while grabbing a soda from the fridge. “Yea I just have really bad cramps.” I lied again.

“That sucks,” he started, taking a sip of his fanta. “Hey, I was just wondering if you went to Fairview High School. You kinda look like this girl I used to hang out with.”

“Uh yeah, I went there. I thought I knew you from somewhere but I couldn’t tell.” I responded. ‘A girl I used to hang out with’ huh. Was I really the only one that was thinking about our relationship for the past seven years. Not gonna lie, that kind of hurt. Because up to a couple moments ago I thought very highly of Han, I still considered him a friend. Because he had been my only friend for so long, I sort of held hope that he would be my friend forever. But I was too naive, I should have known he would forget me. I mean, I’m not that memorable; but I thought I would at least be more than a girl he ‘used to hang out with.’

Not a moment later, Chan comes back into the kitchen with my shoes. “Oh, hey Han. The kids are waiting for you so they can start a new game of uno.”

“Ok. Nice catching up with you Y/N.” I mustered the nicest smile I could at the moment and responded with a bitter ‘you too’ before moving to hop off the counter to put on my shoes.

Chan holds me down by my knees and kneels down to lace up my converse himself. “What were you guys talking about?” he asked after tying the first shoe. “We used to go to the same highschool.”

“Cool, were you guys friends?” Chan asks, now finished with tying both shoes. “I thought so” I mumble, mostly to myself.

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