#money trades hands when they finally get together

[itsjusthockey]

Flyers - Jamie Drysdale

I love him so much and I wish him all the success in the world

I’m also trying not to hate cutter gauthier

I hope you enjoy, I like this one

Request and talk to me, pls and thx

It’s late in the evening when the shrill ring of your phone cuts through the silence of your bedroom. You glance at the screen and see your boyfriend calling. It’s not a FaceTime, and it’s always a FaceTime, so you’re confused, and your heart skips a beat as you answer him.

“Hello?”

It’s silent on the other end, but you can hear him lightly breathing and shuffling around.

“Jame?”

Before he even utters a word, you feel a subtle shift in the atmosphere. There is a reason he didn’t FaceTime, and there is a reason his usual warmth and cheer is replaced by a heavy silence. As the seconds tick by, you can sense his hesitation, and an unsettling sense unfolds in your stomach.

You hear him take a shaky inhale, hold it for a second, and then he breathes out.

“They traded me.”

His voice is raw, and it trembles with unusual vulnerability. In a single second, your heart shatters into a million pieces. Before you can even fully comprehend what he said, tears are pooling in your eyes, and your hand is clasping at your mouth.

“They what?” You ask.

“They just told me. I’m going to the flyers. They want me there tomorrow.”

Finally, the news settles in. Your boyfriend was traded. Jamie was fucking traded.

A million thoughts rush through your head. Jamie has to move. He has to leave Trevor. He has to pack up his entire life in a single night and fly across the country.

Silent tears are streaming down your face, and you realize you’ve stayed quiet for way too long. You also know you need to get a fucking grip. This isn’t about you, and you need to get your shit together because he needs you right now.

So, you take a deep breath and calm the fuck down.

“Are you okay?”

You hear him shuffling around again, probably packing up all his things. He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and you patiently wait until he’s ready.

“I don’t know. It hasn’t really set in yet. Doesn’t feel real.”

A sharp pain thumps through your chest at his words. He continues.

“I’m trying not to feel anything, honestly. I’m trying not to think about everything I have here.” His voice breaks. “But it’s been my home, and I don’t want to leave.”

You finally hear him break, and you would pay any sum of money to be able to teleport to him now. It wrecks you that you can’t be there to hold him during this time. You can’t begin to imagine what he’s feeling. You know he’s thinking about everything that Anaheim has given him. You know he’s

recounting the countless memories made on and off the ice, the shared victories and losses, and the deep bonds formed with teammates.

“Jamie.” You start, then stop.

“Yeah?” He asks softly.

“This absolutely sucks, and I’m so so sorry.” You pause. “The ducks are the biggest idiots in the world, and they don’t deserve you.“

Jamie's breath catches on the other end; it’s a mixture of a chuckle and a sob escaping him. You smile a bit because your words seem to reach through the distance, a small lifeline in the whirlwind of emotions he’s currently facing. He takes a moment before responding.

“Thanks, babe. It means a lot to hear that right now.” He sighs again. “I just never expected this, you know? Everything’s changing so fast. I love it here, and it kills me that I won't be part of it anymore.”

You nod, even though he can't see it. It’s as if the very fabric of his life is unraveling, and you wish you could weave it back together. But all you can do is sit here and listen to him and try your best to be his anchor in the storm of uncertainty.

“I wish I were there with you, help you pack, give you a hug,” you say miserably.

“Me too. he admits, another sad sigh escaping him.

You sit there again for a couple of minutes, listening to him pack and offering your presence. You finally hear him close to the phone again, and he breaks the silence.

“I'm scared (Y/N). It’s a whole new team. I don't want to let anyone down, especially you,” he confesses.

You want to punch him. He knows better. Not once, ever, has Jamie let you down, and you sure as hell know that he never will.

“That's enough of that, Jame, you could never let me down. Nerves are normal, but I also know the player you are. You’ve got this, and I’ve got your back. Always.”

He lets out a quiet okay and quickly hangs up the phone. You’re confused for a brief moment before his FaceTime pops up. You answer in a heartbeat, and a wide smile takes over your features as you finally get to look at your boyfriend.

He looks tired, and his eyes are a bit red, but he has a soft smile, and you know that everything is going to be okay.

For the next couple of minutes, you talk it out. You discuss the logistics, the challenges that lie ahead, and the uncertainty of the future. You do your best to hype him up, and as the logistics conversation draws to a close, a somber calm settles over the two of you. You can finally sense a shift in his tone, a quiet acceptance mingled with some determination.

“We are gonna figure this out, won't we?” Jamie asks a trace of hope in his voice.

“Yes. Besides, I like the flyers. Way better than those losers in Anaheim,” you assure him.

Jamie chuckles a bit, and then a hilarious thought crosses your mind.

“Oh my god.” Panic laces your voice, and Jamie furrows his eyebrows.

“What?”

You start laughing, suddenly very happy.

“You’re gonna be with Gritty!”

You can’t help but roll over with laughter, knowing your shy-as-hell boyfriend is going to be on the team with the most infamous and chaotic mascot ever. You can’t even begin to explain how giddy this makes you, and Jamie lets out a small groan but begins laughing with you anyway.

After you settle down, wiping the new happy tears away, you smile a wide smile at him again.

“You know, I’m still on break. Maybe I should come down and be there for your first game?”

Just like that, your boyfriend is back, and the smile you’re so in love with takes over his features.

“Really?”

“Absolutely. I can think of no better way to end my break than being with you.“ You beam at him. “Besides, I have to scope out the team. Let em know that they have a new hotshot player who has the hottest girlfriend ever.

He barks out another laugh at you, but you know he agrees one hundred percent with your statement.

“God, I love you,” he says, the words carrying the weight of the world.

“I love you too,” you respond, “This is honestly exciting, Jame. You have great things coming. I can feel it.”

#hockey #hockey boys #imagine #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #nhl x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale #trevor zegras #flyers hockey #philadelphia flyers #anaheim ducks #nhl blurb #nhl24 #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl players #nhl

[dazai-ritualist]

Hi! I'm not the one that requested no one is better than I am.... BUT I loved it so much! I was wondering if you could make a part two say maybe the person we ran away with turns out to be abuse or something like that and we're kinda like 'I fucked up' and realize maybe running wasn't such a good idea.... Anyway you can add your own little twist and you can ignore this if you wish <3

- rose anon 🌹

AND I KNEW YOU’D COME BACK TO ME.

— this relationship wasn’t meant to last long. all is forgiven though. alastor will forgive you.

— tangled reimagined 😮‍💨 didnt even realize it until i finished writing HAHAHAHAHA

a month later, the honeymoon period had died out. to be fair, you hadn’t exactly made a plan…crashing at a motel on the edge of mississippi, not exactly what you had in mind.

living off the scraps of what you took, pawning off your belongings. oh, this was not ideal at all. and, how your lover got when he was angry; he’d bruise your arm from gripping way too tightly whenever you didn’t get enough money. how you started to miss alastor, it’s true what they say— you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

if you were able to run once, perhaps you could just one more time? he is not as smart as alastor, you should be able to get away easily in the night.

yes, you should. after trading away many of your items, all you have left is but a satchel worth of dresses. new orleans is not particularly far with a car either.

and so, a familiar memory of running away at the dead of night. only now, it is you returning to alastor, just like he knew you would.

when you returned home, it was 2 AM. the house was just as it was when you left, albeit quite dusty now without your care.

you dropped your satchel on the dining table, just as you left it. it’s almost as if your home was abandoned when you left.

in the bedroom, your husband, sleeping peacefully— an arm clinging to your side of the bed, as if holding onto what little scent of you there was left.

when you opened the bathroom door, a silk nightgown was hung, simply waiting to be worn.

after you had changed, you sat back on your bed, the familiar smell of home coming back to you. as you laid in bed, you found yourself facing alastor.

your hands moved to bring him closer, the warm touch waking him scarily quick. “my love, you’ve returned.” he smiled, bringing you close.

your muscles tensed at the pet name, frightening reminders of the last month coming back. “hey, calm down, dear. i’m not mad.” he reassured you, awfully calmly at that. “running away; it was a mistake, wasn’t it?”

you nodded as you relaxed under his touch. “he was awful… im sorry, alastor…” you frowned. “oh, darling, i told you, didn’t i? no matter, all is forgiven.” he cooed, brushing your hair gently with his nimble fingers. “i’ll protect you from all that is bad in this world. no evil will meet you as long as i live. all i ask… is that you stay here, with me, forever— take care of our house, cook dinner, and perhaps even care for our little ones in the future?” he rambled on, a wide smile upon his face as he thinks of your future together. “ah, i’m rambling, we can discuss that in the future. in the meantime, could you do that, dear?” he asked, offering it to you as if you had a choice.

you nodded, not even looking at alastor. “good. i love you very much, don’t you know that, my dear? all i want is for you to be safe.” he told you. “…i” you started, thinking carefully of your words. “i love you too, alastor…” you said.

did you truly love him? of course you did. he took you back after you betrayed his trust, he’s a wonderful husband.

the moment the words fell from your sweet lips, a wide smile found its way onto alastor’s face. a kiss pressed upon your forehead.

his little doe finally returned his affections. it’s only a shame of his that he had to hurt your delicate heart first.

why would a single man be in a luxury store? oh, words cannot describe how thankful alastor is for your foolish naivety.

word on the street, that eugene was quite the heartbreaker. not to mention, that criminal record of his.

convincing him to go through with it wasn’t hard either. seeing a new toy that knows nothing of his record, he was more than eager to play with you. all it took was a bit of cash for him to keep up the sweetheart act.

and now that his doe was home, there’s no use for trash like that man in this world. the bruises on your arm, they were not what was intended.

all he asked was a simple grab, but it seems he got carried away, that piece of garbage.

as alastor forcefully swallowed his anger, he held you close, massaging the bruises on your wrist. “rest well, darling. you’ve been through a lot this past month.” he cooed, slowly lulling you to sleep.

oh, how excited he is that his little doe is home. to celebrate, we need a special meal, don’t we? say, there is a rare meat that alastor has been dying to try.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #alastor the radio demon #human alastor #yandere alastor #yandere

[cuntrygirlcallista]

you came through with that sativa ❀

imagine getting the slytherin boys high

- draco malfoy, blaise zabini, and theodore nott

warnings | mentions of drugs, cursing

female!reader

DRACO

- Convincing Draco to smoke with you was a challenge in itself.

- The first time was during your sixth year at Hogwarts.

- After he ranted about being stressed about an Ancient Runes assignment, you finally managed to persuade him to join you

- Watching Draco smoke became your favorite pastime after that.

- His mannerisms, movements, the way he lit the blunt, the way he took a drag—everything was just captivating.

- However he was quite careless, even clumsy at times

- "Fuck, did you move this dresser?"

- Growing up privileged had already made Draco careless with money, but shopping with him while high made it even worse.

- "Dray, it's too expensive" "Well love, you're going to have it,"

BLAISE

- When you and Blaise met you’d discovered he was already into smoking

- despite being quiet and reserved, his behavior was quite the opposite while high

- he’s a flirty, a heavy one

- “why are you staring at me?” “you’d want to be staring at the prettiest thing in the room too, wouldn’t you princess?”

- extremely touchy

- hands around your waist, on your thighs in your hair, everywhere

- he can’t keep his hands or eyes off you

- amidst all the affecting, the two of you have your deepest conversations

- it’s in this space the two of you express the most love and adoration

THEODORE

- you may not think it’s possible but he becomes even more playful after smoking

- cracking even more jokes, his cocky smirk traded for a lazy smile

- his laugh becomes even more infectious, filling the room with warmth and happiness.

- overall he’s very soft and caring

- when you're alone together, he just wants to curl up next to you in bed, seeking comfort and closeness.

- somewhere between soft kisses there’s whispered “i love you’s”

- needless to say you adore him like this

@cuntrygirlcallista

#draco fluff #draco lucius malfoy #harry potter #hermione fanfiction #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #headcanon #harry pottet gif #theodore nott #blaise zabini #blaise zabini x reader #theodore nott x reader #mattheo riddle #lucius malfoy #narcissa malfoy #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x reader #ron weasly imagine #ron weasley x reader #draco x hermione #ron x hermione #charlie weasley #draco malfoy #slytherclaw #slytherin #gryffindor #luna lovegood x y/n #luna lovegood #hermione granger #luna lovegood x reader

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

got any silly voxval headcannons? (Maybe velvette too idk)

like for example who cooks out of the three of them

Of course you can <3 I'm a really angsty girlie so I don't know how silly they actually are but there you go:

None of them can cook, but that's not really a problem for Vox and Velvette. Vox could survive on plain bread and black coffee for eternity, while Velvette could eat only candies. Val, on the other hand, is the ultimate hedonist. He's all about the tasty, full-fat fast food or gourmet stuff, and he's always pushing for takeout. Come on, guys, we're fucking rich, let's order something. Sure, they could hire someone to cook for them, but Vox is too paranoid to let an outsider near their food. He's still on the hunt for a chef who can match Val's extravagant tastes and is willing to sign off soul. If they had to pick someone to cook, Vox would probably be the best bet since he's the only one who can actually follow a recipe.

Velvette is the smartest when it comes to managing finances. Vox technically doesn't like to waste money but he has a taste for luxurious stuff, he can't resist an expensive car, fucking show-off. Valentino basically burns money on every useless shit he likes, I bet those crystals he badazzled his gun with were real diamons.

Velvette helps Val maintain his fluff, and he styles her hair. It's a cute little trade-off they've got going on.

Valentino has a habit of breaking electronic devices and downloading malware. Vox hates him for it.

Vox can easily go 72h without sleep, fueled by coke and rage. Valentino occasionally drugs his coffee to put him down to sleep, because after 68th hour all electronics in the tower starts malfunctioning.

Val used to be a full-time performer, but now he's more like a RuPaul—lending his face to the brand and only occasionally gracing the stage. But every time he does perform, Vox makes sure to be there front and center.

Their schedules are very incompatible and they have to spend a lot of time managing their businesses but they have weekly appointments to do catch up and discuss strategy. Those are usually very unserious, they end up hitting the bong and playing Mario Cart.

There was this one time Vox tried hitting on Velvette because she's totally his type. It was awkward as hell, and they both agreed to never speak of it again. Valentino has no idea about it.

Valentino would really want to have a dog but Vox really likes dogs so he doesn't allow him to get one by imposing strict anti-pet policy in the tower.

Val knows all of Vox's and Velvette's kinks and sometimes produces custom porn for them as gifts.

As much as they love spending time together, Val and Velvette can't stand watching TV with Vox because he gets overly emotional and doesn't allow to skip commercials because he enjoys them

Vox occasionally invites Val to be a guest judge on reality shows, which always skyrockets ratings but sometimes ends nasty for the contestants.

Val's obsessed with textures, especially nice fabrics. Give him a nice fluffy blanket and he will shut up for 15 minutes fixated on touching it.

Vox, with his business and strategic management degree, sometimes tries to pitch these ideas to Velvette and Valentino, he's like Guys, have you considered using the BCG matrix? Ever heard of SWOT analysis? We should discuss KPIs. They mock him relentlessly for it.

Val once tried putting drag makeup on Vox's face, and let's just say the result was... less than glamorous.

During their honeymoon phase, Vox and Val fucked everywhere. At first, Velvette found it amusing, but eventually, she grew to hate it. She finally snapped when she found out they'd fucked on the dinner table and she set it on fire.

Val "secretly" ghostwrote some trashy smut novels (they are absolutely horrible, worst Wattpad shit you could dig out). Vox secretly bought and read every single one, finding plenty of references to himself along the way.

Vox loves it when Val wears stripper platforms, even though it makes their height difference even more ridiculous.

Valentino's wardrobe takes two entire rooms and still expands. Vox doesn't know how to stop it.

Vox owns a few lingerie sets, only because Val loses his fucking mind whenever he wears them. Velvette designed them herself and keeps photos of Vox wearing them as blackmail material, just in case.

#hazbin hotel #vox #valentino #voxval #ask #staticmoth #velvette #vox hazbin #hazbin hotel valentino #headcanon #velvette hazbin #the vees

[transforming]

Dane's Unexpected Vacation

Here's a little something I put together, as a commission for @tf-lover, who's been such an amazing friend of mine in the TF community, with a shoutout to his amazing work and his collaborations with @mrwavellswaps! Enjoy!

-----

It had been a particularly long week for Dane De Bruin. 

It was nearly a year ago when his life changed forever, from being a skinny young teacher who was tired of his life and having to deal with annoying teenagers, to a bona fide magical hunk, and now having a boyfriend in the form of the marvelous Mr Wavell. That was a whirlwind, magic carpet ride of a journey all on its own, not only becoming such a stud but also discovering he probably had powers of his own. Dane worked and trained with Mr Wavell, in the real world and in their home in the pocket dimension, to figure out what magic he has deep within him, as he channeled Wavell’s powers to help others find true happiness and fulfill their hidden desires.

He knew that loads of guys had a kink for soft, squishy pecs like his, and as much as he could make money appear from the snap of his fingers, he also thought about the thousands of pounds he could earn just from showing off his man-tits. That said, he began venturing into social media, posting at least once a week on Instagram for thirsty fans who’d be willing to pay him anything to support him, and even send him cute drawings that would especially highlight his knockers. It got a kick out of him, and in a way, he was helping people feel satisfied and fulfilled, and he was feeling great about that.

On top of all that, most recently he had been helping out Mr Wavell collect testimonials on the Homo Bomb he had dropped on the town of Bellmare, dividing up their research across the town’s residents. It was quite fascinating to see how the magical bomb changed the townspeople, varying from the simple change of straight men turning gay, already gay men turning into their fantasies or crushes, to the rare anomalies of women becoming men. The beach town was definitely a notable case study for the books, and it was worth examining on how happy people could be with the help of sudden magic being dropped upon them, all thanks to his boyfriend.

-----

However, in the past few days, Dane started to notice that he was getting quite tired, and it threw off everything he had been doing. He felt less motivated to go to the gym, and without a nice enough pump to show off, he delayed posting anything new on Instagram. Even channeling Wavell’s magic for his own use has been more strenuous than normal, and with Wavell busy collecting his side of testimonies from Bellmare, they haven’t had much time to themselves: whether it was to have a bit of fun in the bedroom, to work on strengthening Dane’s magical abilities, or simply to have lunch together.  It was similar to the draining feeling he experienced long before when he was a teacher, dealing with these pesky kids who didn’t listen to him, or dealing with an admin that ignored his needs for support in the classroom – except that he was drained from everything that he enjoyed doing as Dane. 

As much as he hated to admit it, Dane knew he was being stretched thin, and that he was on the verge of majorly burning out. He was in desperate need of a break. One day, when he finally mustered up enough courage, he eventually sat down with his boyfriend.

“Wavell, babe, I need to talk to you,” Dane said, looking forlorn and exhausted.

Wavell walked over from the kitchen with two glasses of red wine in his hand, handing one to his lover. “What is it, Dane?” he asked as they both sat down.

Dane sighed. “It’s been so amazing spending time with and falling in love with you babe. I’ve loved every moment we’ve spent together, and honestly, I wouldn’t trade it for anything else. The magic, our relationship and getting to channel your magic, the sex…” Dane chuckled a bit. “Even this Homo Bomb has been crazy interesting to observe.”

Wavell smiled and wrapped his arm around Dane’s waist as he took a sip of his pinot. “And I love you so much, baby. I still can’t believe you’re my boyfriend after all this time. How long has it been? What, nearly ten months since I made you into Dane?”

“Yeah, just about.” Dane smiled, as he took a sip of his wine. “I love you too, babe. Like I said, everything we’ve done together has made me feel so much happier, and life feels so worthwhile with you…” Dane paused, hesitating for a moment, but enough for Wavell to notice.

“I can sense a ‘but’ coming in,” Wavell said, kissing Dane’s cheek. “Dane, don’t worry, you know you can always tell me anything.”

Dane sighed once more, as he slumped his shoulders and finished his glass of wine in one gulp. “I can’t exactly pinpoint why, but I’m just feeling really drained. I’ve noticed it in the little things. Not feeling enough hype to work out, I don’t feel as strong as I know I could be after all our training and after using your powers, and in general I just feel a bit tired.”

Wavell looked down, thinking about it for a moment. In his experience, he knew that magic was enough to keep one energetic and dynamic, but he’d also heard enough stories of other warlocks and possessors of magic to know that not getting enough rest and relaxation could completely destroy their magic and revert them back to what they used to be, or even worse, drain them out of existence. A few of his own friends had disappeared in the past. He pulled Dane close, kissed him softly, and let him rest his head on his lap, 

“You definitely need some R&R, Dane,” Wavell replied, smiling sweetly as he caressed Dane’s hair. “Your powers are still relatively new, and I don’t want to see you completely drained out when you’re still growing them to their full potential.”

Dane felt tears well up in his eyes, and after a deep breath, he felt them stream down his cheeks. “I know, babe. I just… I didn’t wanna let you down.” Dane sniffled, while Wavell rubbed his V-tapered back, comforting him.

“You’ll never let me down, babe. Never. But you shouldn’t ever be ashamed to tell me you’re tired, or to ask for a break when you need one.” Wavell wiped the tears from Dane’s cheeks, as he ran his hand down Dane’s arm to calm him. 

Wavell smirked as he lifted Dane’s head off his lap and embraced him. “You deserve this break. And luckily, I know just the guy to help you out.” 

Dane raised an eyebrow. “Who is this guy?”

Wavell chuckled. “His name’s Drew, and he runs this new resort where magicians like us can go to relax. It’s a new venture he’s exploring, an idea that came to him when he was taking a break of his own after running Transformation College years ago.”

Dane’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘The guy who created Transformation College is back?’, he thought. “I thought he’d disappeared long ago. He’s around again?”

Wavell nodded. “Yep, he’s back, and he’s hoping, since he’s running a resort, he can take it a bit easier than last time. The college really burnt him out,” he chuckled, “but I think Drew’s Transformational Resort could benefit you. Plus, knowing him well, he’ll cover all your expenses.”

Dane smiled, and kissed his lover with a renewed passion. “I fucking love you Wavell.”

“And I love you more, Dane. You deserve a break, and don’t worry about the Homo Bomb testimonies, I can cover that. For now, all you need to do is relax, yeah?” Wavell smiled brightly. The couple got up and headed towards the front door. Holding hands, they stepped out of the house and towards a little tropical hut with a bamboo door on the eastern end of Wavell’s pocket dimension. “Here we are. Just straight through that door and you’ll be at the resort.”

As he held the doorknob, Dane looked into Wavell’s eyes one last time and held his hand. “I’m gonna miss you. I wish you could come with me,” his voice quivered as he said that to his lover.

“I’m gonna miss you too, babe. But I know if I’m gonna be there, you might not be able to recuperate fully, considering we still don’t know what your magical powers are, if you have any. Plus, I don’t know if we’d even be able to relax at all with how much sex we’d have,” Wavell chuckled. He squeezed Dane’s hand once more, kissing him softly, before Dane opened the door and entered through.

-----

Once he was fully through, he was quickly blinded by a bright white light. Dane closed his eyes tightly, then when he opened them again, he found himself on the shore of a pristine white beach, on a secluded island completely surrounded by miles and miles of ocean. He could feel the water wade between toes, and the sand stick to his soles, as he looked around, the door to Wavell’s dimension nowhere to be seen. He then noticed that he was shirtless and just wearing a pair of beach shorts, which surprised him. “Woah, this is trippy,” he muttered to himself as he walked off the beach onto the grass further in, seeing a collection of small beachside villas, two larger buildings, and what appeared to be a lobby, where a young, shirtless and handsome stud stood behind a desk, holding a small flower in hand.

Dane walked over to the desk, but before he could speak, the young hunk turned and smiled. “Dane De Bruin?” he asked.

Dane stepped back. “H-how did you know?”

The handsome stud, who looked around college age, smirked. “Wavell told me everything before you arrived.” Dane chuckled, Wavell was always one step ahead of him. “I’m Drew, by the way,” the himbo-looking stud said, reaching out his hand for Dane to shake.

Dane reciprocated the handshake. “Pleasure to meet you, Drew. Did Wavell already tell you why I’m here?” he replied. Drew simply nodded, and quickly turned around to grab a passion fruit tequila welcome cocktail for Dane, handing it to him.

“We offer a lot of services, but our main purpose here at Drew’s Transformational Resort is magical rejuvenation, helping magicians such as yourself regain control over your powers, and come back feeling relaxed and reborn,” Drew smirked naughtily as he spoke. Luckily, Dane didn’t notice. Drew led Dane down a small, rustic path through the resort, passing by the restaurant and then the spa, all of it looked amazing and luxurious. They stopped at a villa, and Drew opened the door. It was a simple space, but a beautiful one too: a king-sized bed with an extremely soft coconut mattress that felt like sleeping on a cloud; an outdoor shower surrounded by a wall filled with orchid vines; a door that led to the back porch, which had its own swimming pool and jacuzzi; and further out, Dane’s own little cove, which was surrounded by coconut palms and hibiscus trees. It was all spectacularly beautiful.

“Wow,” Dane said, blown away by it all.

“I really worked hard on curating unique experiences for all my guests,” Drew replied, smiling as Dane walked around his villa and took it all in. “And first on the agenda for your Ultimate Relaxation and Rejuvenation package is a whole spa day.” 

Dane turned and beamed at Drew. “Lead the way then Drew. I’m so excited for this.”

Drew smiled back and handed Dane his key card for the villa, before he led the way back up the path to the spa. As he looked around, Dane noticed a staff member at the hotel that looked like Drew. Then another one that drove a buggy. And then another at the front desk of the spa. The Drew working at the spa chuckled. “Yep, this whole resort is run by me.”

Dane laughed, impressed. “That’s amazing. So you could basically clone yourself?”

Spa-Drew nodded as he took things from Reception-Drew, leading Dane into a massage room. Dane quickly stripped out of his beach shorts and hopped onto the massage bed, while Spa-Drew placed a pair of AirPods into his ears, which began to play calming jazz music, canceling out all the noise and letting Dane doze off to sleep as Spa-Drew got to work. Once he knew that Dane was completely asleep, thanks to the binaural beats he added to keep Dane asleep in a deep trance, Drew took out a magical kit of essential oils, ointments, scrubs and tools. He smirked, and opened the bottle of plumeria essential oil.

Rubbing some between his hands, Drew began massaging Dane, kneading his back muscles and defining them even more till they were shredded. Reaching his shoulders, Drew built up Dane’s traps, and broadened his shoulders just a bit, his hands defining Dane’s delts, then worked his way down his arms and sculpting them like clay, defining them even further till they looked more youthful and strong. As Drew rubbed the oil all over Dane through the massage, a golden sun-kissed tan began to seep across Dane’s body, washing out his pale white skin until it looked like he spent a lot of time at the beach, and all his body hair receded, leaving him smooth and supple like a baby.

Drew smirked as he peeled off the towel that covered Dane’s ass. Lathering his cheeks up with more oil, he massaged them and rounded them up till they were bubbly yet firm with muscle. Finishing up the backside, Drew knuckled down on Dane’s thighs, shaping them till they were like well-defined tree trunks, and softly pressed on his calves till they gained a more aesthetic diamond shape. Upon reaching his feet, Drew squeezed every part –stretching Dane’s toes, knuckling his soles and pressing his ankles, till Dane’s feet shrunk by just a bit to accommodate his now slightly shorter stature.

Drew took a good look at Dane’s backside before turning him over, lifting Dane up with ease as if he were a paper doll. Once Dane was fully turned around, Drew chuckled as he continued pouring more oil all over Dane’s body. Fondling Dane’s pecs, Drew squeezed the soft, supple man-tits till the hairs receded and the pecs were more sculpted and firm with muscle, then worked down on his abs and sculpted each one till the ridges were sharply defined and looked like a washboard. Since the legs were technically done, Drew simply ran his oiled-up hands over the quads and shins, which caused any remaining leg hairs to completely disappear, then lifted up Dane’s arms to pour a strong, musky oil into it, rubbing it into his pits until the rest of his body began emanating the same intense smell.

Dane’s body was completely transformed, from looking like a big muscular Daddy to a young bodybuilder physique, but Drew wasn’t quite done yet. He smirked as he lifted the still-sleeping Dane across the room to a parlor chair, then grabbing the rest of his tools. First things first, Drew applied some shaving cream onto Dane’s face, massaging it deep into his jaw, then pulled out a razor and began shaving off all of Dane’s stubble and precious mustache. No stubble or facial hair was left behind, as Drew left Dane’s face squeaky clean like a baby. Grabbing the aftershave, he mixed it with some of the plumeria oil and massaged it into Dane’s face. It began to reshape, as his skin began to pull tighter as it regained its youth, pulling Dane back a few years in appearance till it looked like he was in his mid-20s, but the aftershave prevented him from growing any facial hair again. 

As he kept up his work, Drew massaged the upper part of Dane’s face, the golden tan creeping up and washing his face, as Drew reshaped Dane’s eyes to have a more almond-like, distinctly Asian shape, while plucking out his eyebrows to define them further and make them look less bushy. Carefully, Drew opened Dane’s eyes and popped in a pair of dark brown, permanent contacts, and pierced Dane’s ears with simple silver diamond studs, making him look even more youthful. Finally, Drew pulled out a pair of scissors, a shaver and a comb, and cut off Dane’s luscious locks till his hair was shorter, with tapered fades on the sides, like a jock’s type of haircut, then topped it off by rubbing some coconut oil into hi hair until Dane’s rich brown waves turned jet black and straight. Dane was too deep in slumber to notice anything amiss, or even feel what was going on, he just felt very relaxed.

Once it was all finished, within just an hour of Dane’s arrival at the resort, Spa-Drew handed Dane over to one of the other Drews, who took him back to his villa, and dressed him up in a tank top, gym shorts and sneakers, and pulled out the AirPods. The magic of the massage and the oils Drew used had definitely rejuvenated him, and had helped rebuild the strength of his magical powers, but gave him a completely new appearance.

It was around sunset when Dane finally woke up, feeling plenty rested after having slept for most of the day. He smiled. “Fuck me, that –” Dane shut his mouth. His voice. It sounded different. Younger, for sure, but it wasn’t the deep, gravelly voice he knew to be his own. He looked down and saw a fitter, more shredded body than his, and his eyes widened. He rushed over to the mirror, and finally saw what had happened – he looked nothing like how he came in – he now had the appearance of a young Asian jock.

“Do you like the new look?” Drew said, leaning against the doorframe leading to the cove. “Enjoy your vacation, Dane. Just relax, get away from it all, and enjoy the new body – it’s yours until you get bored of it!” Drew chuckled as he ran off, leaving Dane stunned.

How will he explain this to Wavell when he goes back?

-----

I hope you all enjoyed this story!

Speaking of commissions, I will be opening up commissions to everyone very soon - keep your eyes peeled for a detailed post on it!

You can also tip me over on ko-fi, if you can't or don't want to commission! You don't have to tip me, but any support is always welcome.

#male tf #massage tf #mrwavellswaps #tf-lover #race tf #jock tf

[shxnigxmi]

[𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓!𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄] [ᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable—

c/w: pining/getting together, kissing, fluff, vulgar language, violence, inserting an utterly useless side character to move the story along

a/n: not entirely proud of the second half of this, it’s eh… but imma post this anyway—

—

Why? Why did Price have to be such a meddling asshole?

This assignment would surely be the death of you, it wasn’t going to be by a bullet sent your way from an enemy’s gun but rather the Lieutenant you were paired with for the undercover operation.

The Lieutenant who you had a massive crush on.

And Price knew that, the smug bastard, the grin he sent your way when he had made the assignments telling enough of his unspoken intentions. Finally getting you together with the man you’d been pining for since joining up with the team two years ago.

He’d saved your ass in Las Almas and since then you’ve been madly in love with him.

What you didn’t know is that he had been equally —if not much more— in love with you. The stirrings of those familiar warm feelings in his chest erupting when you were first introduced. And you didn’t shy away from him or treat him like some kind of super soldier or powerful machine. When you spoke to him as a person.

He tried— really he did, to quell those feelings. Press them down until they were gone but he couldn’t, and his yearning only grew the more time you spent with him. Wether it was on assignments together, or just smoking with him at night whenever you found you couldn’t sleep. Talking the night away as you gazed at the stars above in the deep blue canvas the night sky cast.

It was oddly unintentionally romantic, and you continued to fall harder and harder for him— and he you, as time passed. Fuck he was in trouble. And it was on one of such nights when he’d felt you were close enough to finally open up to you about what he had endured. When you acknowledged his pain and reassured him he was more than his trauma he was sunk.

And he’d strangle his Captain for the position he’d put him in tonight. Posing as your bodyguard as you took the cover of a multimillionaire interested in purchasing things more on the unconventional side. Weapons and people alike— the latter of the two making you shrivel internally as a bolt of disgust and rage lanced down your back at the thought.

These people were easily the absolute scum of the Earth, and you’d relish in putting a bullet in the heads of some of the most prolific political figure heads here. All of them unbothered and seemingly thoroughly elated at the thought of purchasing other human beings.

And you could guffaw at their ignorance, detached and out of touch to the world outside of their circles. Circles of people with money and power. And ignorant to their killer —you— as you shook hands and spoke terms of agreements on joining some of their underground drug and trafficking rings and cartels.

Fucking morons.

“Visual on the target.”

You acknowledged Gaz in your earpiece and made sure you were subtle as you visually swept the gala hall. And sure enough, there she was.

Selena Hardy.

An American politician that sat comfortably as the head of the senate board. And a serial arsonist with connections to criminal organizations and terrorists collectives all over the globe.

She was the one you and Ghost were here for. A capture mission that would go down flawlessly so long as neither of you were compromised and the intel Laswell provided regarding the woman was air-tight.

Selena was entering the building in a sleek black dress, a slit up her thigh and a white fur coat over her shoulders. She appeared unapproachable and looked deadly. An image she no doubt put together with the intention to appear powerful and important.

It was your job, posing as a rich business investor, to proposition her with a deal to make trade in armory and weapons. And you had all the firepower about her personal life, of which involved a clueless husband and two daughters, to wield against her.

You and Ghost agreed to let her intake a bit of alcohol first, hoping the buzz of the liquor would be enough to loosen her lips enough to get her to slip. Even if a small one you’d be able to use to your advantage.

Your patience was well-rewarded as you approached her and were able to strike up a conversation she entertained because of the liquid poison traveling through her blood.

When you off-handedly mentioned that you were seeking a new and darker business opportunity she took the bait and opened the conversation to other topics. But, she wouldn’t divulge anything further regarding her personal connections and such. So, you encouraged her to talk by playing your trump card. Threatening her family, with precise locations of their exact whereabouts at that exact moment and that there was a bullet awaiting them if she resisted any further.

Reluctantly and peeved beyond measure she complied, and you told her to follow you upstairs. Where you both could “continue your conversation”. Not willing to risk the lives of her family she followed easily, and ordered her guard post themselves at the bottom of the stairs.

When she stepped into the office you were quick to grab her around her shoulders. Despite her furious thrashing you were able to jab her in the neck with a sedative, ensuring the needle caught a vein and pushing the plunger down to drain the liquid directly into her blood. The location of the prick being so close to her brain made the chemical work far quicker than normal and she was out like a light.

But the sound of your struggle had attracted the attention of her guards, and they were quickly climbing the stairs. You looked to Ghost from your position at the door, he’d just finished tightening the zip ties around her wrists when you had turned to him.

“Incoming. And fast.”

“Bloody hell.” He grunted, his roughened voice laced with annoyance that was tainted with a firmer tone. He was irritated your covers have possibly just been blown but he was ready for anything that barged through that door. He stood before he bent down to grab the target by under her armpits and drag her to hide her behind the desk in the office. Then, he was at your side just as the voices reached the other side of the door.

You panicked when the doorknob twisted and turned to Ghost, pulling the black mask covering the lower half of his face down just as the door swung open.

“What are you—”

Ghost’s question was abruptly cut short when you connected your lips to his.

Honestly, you couldn’t help the way your tongue swiped across the seam of his lips as you relished in the warm pleasure that pooled in your chest and stomach at finally being able to kiss him. Finally feeling what it was like to have his lips on your own.

And fuck it was amazing.

Simon accepted your kiss, and felt the same roar of fire in his blood when he opened his mouth and your tongue met his. He eagerly followed your lead as you made out, swinging your arms up to wrap around his neck.

You wanted this kiss to last forever, locked in each other’s embrace as you finally met his lips after two long years of wishing for nothing more. But you remembered your mission. And you pulled your mouth off of his in feigned shock at being caught as the man in front awkwardly cleared his throat.

Simon was quick to pull his mask back up to hide the aroused flush of his cheeks as he straightened behind you when you turned to face the men. Tall and intimidating in all his beastly glory as he flicked the switch instantly back to cold and dark bodyguard.

“Oh I’m sorry! We were just looking for a little privacy,” you explained as you willed an embarrassed red hue to your cheeks. Once again expertly feigning an emotion you were not feeling in the slightest.

“Where’s our boss?!” The man roared and you didn’t waste a single second before you were lunging forward and grabbing the barrel of his pistol to redirect where the firearm was pointing. You swung a hard lunch directly to his temple with your opposite hand and he dropped. You held the gun tightly, wrenching it out of his hand as he fell to the ground unconscious.

The others jumped in immediately and Simon was there to defend you, fighting together like a well-oiled machined it wasn’t hard to dispatch the rest of them.

Once you dropped the last guard Simon paced over to you and pushed you roughly against the wall before he pulled his mask down to attach his lips to your own once again. You moaned into his mouth as he engaged the tongue play this time, encouraging you to make out with him by furiously licking into your mouth.

“Si,” you whined as he growled into the kiss. Prolonging it for just a minute longer before he was pulling away with a sharp bite to your bottom lip.

And you looked into his rich brown eyes as he leaned his head down to press his forehead to your own.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the day I met you.”

Struck dumb and utterly shocked by his confession you gaped at him, wanting to ask him when exactly it was he fell for you. Wanting to tell him that you’d been in love with him for the longest time— but you didn’t want to reveal that quite yet. Not without knowing why it took him so long to make a move. “Then why didn’t you?” You asked instead.

He swallowed and you watched as he shut his eyes to take a deep inhale, exhaling the breath raggedly as he opened his eyes to gain eye contact with you once again.

“I was afraid, afraid you’d reject me. And I would never have the chance to love you like I so desperately want to.” He spoke in a quote voice, explaining to you why he had waited so long in an odd moment of vulnerability. Odd coming from him. So you decided to meet his courageous display of openness and honesty.

“If it’s any consolation, I fell in love with you in Las Almas.”

He chuckled deeply, and you would’ve loved to hear it always and forever from this moment forward as it tumbled warmly in his chest. Then, he was leaning down once again and you met his lips in a delicate and tender kiss. Drastically different from the wolf display of yearning moments ago.

“About time you damn muppets.”

“Aye, get it L.T!”

“Finally bagged the babe, eh Ghost?”

Right. The dumb, childish assholes that made up the rest of your team.

Simon pulled away from you and dropped his head to your chest with an irritated growl, and you laughed as you cradled him, carding your fingers through his hair.

Okay, maybe Price meddling wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

—

a/n: gaz is up next! <3

#callofduty #codmw2 #simon ghost riley #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #cod x male reader #x male reader #male reader #ghost x male reader

[writingoddess1125]

More Sanji and Sunaki, please, especially showing her to the strawhats 🫶🏽 keep up the amazing work and hope you are doing well

I gotcha sweetie!

A Girl To Love ❤️

Sanji × Reader + Baby Sunaki

Headcanon

Support me on Ko-Fi!

Fun Fact! Oda picked Sanji name because it represents '3 o'clock { San Ji}' Aka Snack time! And Sunaki is a play on Sunakku aka Snack/Bitesize! So both their names are food based. 3'oclock Snack!

• You didn't realize it- but the day that you had introduced Sanji and Sunaki.

• And created two new monsters

• Sanji paraded around Sunaki everywhere. He showed his crew mates who were all swooned by the baby-

• As for Sunaki- She was getting spoiled rotten.. Most of the crew had extreme soft spots for kids so of course everytime she goes with her father she would come back with toys, clothes, sweets to the roof. You were sure Nami was the one responsible for clothes since they seemed to be a bit expensive- You didn't know her well but she didn't seem to be the type yo spend money so freely, but it seemed children were an exception.

• Sunaki seemed to adore Zoro the most however much to Sanji's irritation. The toddler often giggling for the swordsman to pick her up and he'd just carry her around or take a nap while holding her- Often some toy to keep her occupied.

• Zoro however curve the habit of sleeping while holding Sunaki. He had taken a nap and Sunaki the ever curious toddler she was reached her hand out at something shiny and grabbed one of the earrings of Zoros and yanked-

• The scream from the swordsman could be heard from across the village..

• Sanji laughed his ass off for 3 days straight- while Zoro had to get 2 stitches in his ear to keep the third ear hole and his famed earring.

• The whole crew had taken a liking to her and you as well. Inviting you to their ship to spend time with them all or offering to babysit so you could get some rest. Which you did take up since it had been over 2 years since you got a decent night's rest-

• While you and Sanji were still discussing the situation of your guys relationship you two did workout a decent Co-Parenting agreement. While Sanji and his crew were here you two would trade off daily if not just spend days together. But in the future when he did have to leave, he would visit regularly and when Sunaki turned 5 would spend 6 months with you and 6 months on the ship with Sanji till a better agreement could be arranged.

• But for now this was fine. Especially since it ment you got help on the days you worked. Today being one of those days.

• You had to go to work so you offered if Sanji wanted to watch her for the day which he jumped at. You giving him the diaper bag and some pre-made snacks from the local market.

• He looks at the cheap foods and raises a brow. "What is this?" He questions.

• "Well she's really picky, she would rather not eat all day if she doesn't like it. I've tried several recipes that most babies like and even went out. She will only eat 6 different things and milk" You admit and see Sanji clearly not impressed.

• "We will see about that- I won't have a picky or wasteful daughter" He stressed before heading into the ship. You smiling to yourself as you walked to work. This was going to be a disaster..

• 12 hours later you return to the crew eating like kings, Seemingly random assortments of things and laughing about Sanji- Walking into the kitchens were you saw the blonde looking drained of energy.

• It was by far the most brutal critics that Sanji had ever dealt with. Sitting in a half destroyed kitchen staring at his daughter in a high chair finally eating. Feeding her spoonfuls of whatever he had made.

• "How did it go?" You mused, Sanji sighing heavily with a unlit cigarette in his mouth.

• "14 dishes- It took 14 fucking dishes to figure it out... she's a God damn texture person-" He pointed out as you looked to see what he was feeding her.

• "Texture person?" You question and see to your surprise he was feeding her fried rice

• "Is that?-" Sanji nodded. "Curry fried rice and she had some diced up chicken earlier with garlic that she ate" He still looked tired but smiled with some pride.

• "She has an aversion to certain textures in foods, so taste isnt the issue but mouth feel. Truthfully her palette is more similar to an adult then a toddlers anyway- She just doesn't like mushy foods- All the snacks you gave me had one thing in common. They had something crunchy- She doesn't like tomatoes, cucumbers and probably anything seedy like that. I had to change shirts when I gave her Natto-" He deadpanned and sighed, Sunaki fussing for another bite which he happily gave her.

• You couldn't help but be impressed by this. He had spent all day figuring out his daughter's palette so she could eat a wider variety of foods.

• "You did really good Sanji" You praise. Earning a wide grin from him- before Sunaki gave another loud cry and opened her mouth to get more of the fried rice.

• "Alright Alright-" Sanji laughed as he continued to feed her, Clearly just filled with joy as he smiled at his little girl.

• He finally found the girl he was truly in love with from the bottom of his heart. Just who knew it would be his daughter.

Bonus!

• Zoro sends pictures and letters to Zeff of Sunaki. The old man cries a bit when he learns of the child and feels a flush of emotions.

• Will eventually meet the child and is just as in love with her as Sanji.

• Sanji sees first hand the difference a grandchild makes in even the crankiest of old men. How Zeff smiles, cookes special treats for Sunaki and even gives his chefs hat to wear while visiting.

• "When did you get so nice Old Man!?" Sanji screams as he watches the old pirate feed his daughter candy.

• "WHEN YOU BROUGHT ME SOMETHING TO BE NICE ABOUT! Now go clean the grills! I want to spend time with my granddaughter"

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #vinsmoke sanji #op sanji #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #sanji #dad!sanji #Dad Sanji

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Wide Open Spaces

Travis takes you on the annual Kelce family camping trip, your first opportunity to make a good impression with his family, or so you think

Dedicated to @princessmermaid1289 for their birthday!

"I don't think you're putting it together right, Travis." You flipped the white instruction pamphlet around in your hands, squinting your eyes at the diagrams on the page.

"Let me see this." Travis stepped out of the nylon tent, dragging it along the ground with him as he stood up. You passed him the paper, giggling to yourself as you watched the gears turn in his head to no avail. He let out a frustrated huff, throwing the posts down on the ground.

"Travis was never good at the whole reading instructions thing." Jason walked into the campground, placing his and Kylie's bags with the rest of the provisions. "Come to think about it, he's never been good with reading either." Travis flipped Jason the middle finger, earning a hearty chuckle from his older brother. Kylie filed in behind her husband, struggling to hold the cooler in her arms.

"Here, let me help you, Kylie." You shuffled over to grab one end of the plastic container, helping her place it atop the picnic table.

"How is she holding up?" Jason asked Travis just above a whisper, once you were out of earshot. Travis removed his baseball cap, wiping the sweat from his brow. "So far so good."

It started a couple of years ago. Things were going really good for Travis in pretty much every area of his life except dating. He was at the top of his game in football, and his popularity garnered him many a endorsement and brand collaboration. It also meant that women flocked to him in a way they had never before, and he wasn't sure who he could trust, and who was in it for the potential money and fame that came with dating him.

Jason suggested a test, a way to see if the girl was really interested in Travis for who he was and not what he could provide for them. They each were invited on the camping trip for the weekend, and Travis and Jason would put up bets to see how long they could last.

At first it was just some silly competition between brothers, but they quickly realized that it was a solid way to see who was in it for the long haul.

Travis was really hoping you passed the test this weekend. He was head over heels in love with you, and he really saw a future together.

****

You finally got the tent up just as the sun started to set, a cool breeze moving through the campsite. You slipped on one of Travis' hoodies before heading over to the picnic table to help Kylie with dinner prep. Travis and Jason already had a couple of beers in them, the cans collecting by the fire pit as they traded some funny childhood stories.

"Y/N, did Travis ever tell you how he wet the bed until he was 12 years old?" Jason hiccuped as he downed the last sip of his IPA, crushing the can in his hand. You could make out Travis's blush of embarrassment through the haze of dusk. "Oh my god, I stopped when I was like nine!" You let out a belly laugh as you cut up a few carrots. "You say that like its so much better." Jason continued to joke at his brother's expense.

"Why don't the two of you go get us some more firewood?", Kylie suggested, earning a loud groan from the two men. "Let's go man. I gotta take a piss anyway." Travis walked into the woods, Jason stumbling behind him.

****

Kylie looked up at you from her spot, giving you a gentle smile. The two of you had gotten really close over the last couple of months, and you considered her a friend. "Are you having a good time?" You nodded as you rubbed your arms, trying to warm yourself. "I am. I used to go camping all the time with my dad growing up, it was our own little tradition like what Travis and Jason have."

"I'm sure they didn't account for that." Kylie scrunches her eyebrows, letting out a quiet chuckle.

"Didn't account for what?", you asked.

She sighed, wiping her hands on her pant legs. "I'm not supposed to tell you this, but I really like you, and I think that you and Travis have something. This weekend is a test."

You shook your head, not completely understanding. "A test? What kind of test?"

"A test of your relationship", she continued, "see if you could handle roughing it. I had no idea at the time, but Jason put me through the same thing when we were dating." You felt your stomach drop, your throat drying up. You really cared about Travis, but you didn't think he needed you to prove it. Was he unsure about your relationship?

Kylie placed a hand over yours, offering you comfort. She could see the worry flash over your face. "I know its not what you were expecting, but I get why they do it. All the money and the fame comes with a lot of fake people. They really are good guys. I hope this doesn't make you hate Travis."

"Hate, no. But I am a little pissed." You admitted, letting out a humourless laugh. "I was expecting a relaxing weekend, and instead I find out my boyfriend is trying to test my character."

"If you're up for it. I think I have an idea of how we can give them a taste of their own medicine." You spent the next couple of minutes planning your revenge with Kylie.

****

The last embers from the fire were beginning to die down, exhaustion from the day starting to weigh on you.

"I think I'm going to head to bed." You yawned out, patting Travis on the shoulder as you passed him. "I think I'll join you."

"Actually, Kylie and I were thinking we'd share a tent, and you could bunk with your brother. Just for tonight, we realized we could use some girl time."

"Are you sure?" Travis grabbed your hand, stopping you before you reached the tent.

"Yes, good night." You gave him a quick peck on the lips before walking away.

Travis tossed around in his sleeping bag, groaning as he propped an arm behind his head. He had gotten maybe 10 minutes of sleep before Jason started snoring, a sound that rivaled a bear's growl. Shoving him in the side did nothing to stop the torment, only giving him a few seconds of silence before the snores started again.

The woods were silent aside from a rustling in the trees. Travis listened intently to the sounds around him, his eyelids slowly closing.

****

They shot open to a booming sound, as if something had fallen from the trees.

"Jason. Jason." Travis whispered aggressively, trying to wake his brother up. "What?" he finally groaned, scratching his stomach.

"Did we tie up the food? I think I hear a bear outside."

"Yeah, I made sure of it. There is no way a bear is gonna wander into our campsite. Go back to sleep", Jason remarked as he turned over.

The next sound was much louder, as if some branches had fallen.

"What the fuck was that?" Jason sat up, running his fingers through his hair.

"I thought it was NoThInG?" Travis mocked, sitting up as well. "My wife and your girlfriend are probably fighting for their lives right now in their tent, and you want to mock me?"

"I'm sure they're fine. Like you said, we tied up the food. It was probably just an owl or something." Travis searched for his phone as Jason got up. "I'm gonna go check on them." As he reached for the entrance zipper, the tent began to shake violently.

"I'm getting the fuck out of here!" The Kelce brothers hustled out of the tent, only to be met with a splash of water to the face. "Gotcha!" You billowed over in laughter, watching Travis try to catch his breath, his clothes drenched.

"What the hell was that for? We thought you were in trouble." Travis wrung out his t-shirt, "That wasn't funny, babe."

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "No Travis, you know what's not funny? You inviting me here under the pretense that I was going to get to enjoy a weekend with you and your family, but really it was a test to see if I was a gold digger." You thought the whole situation didn't bother you, but as the words rolled off of your tongue, you realized you were truly hurt. Jason made eye contact with Kylie, mouthing 'what the hell' are her.

"She deserved to know, Jason. I really like her." Kylie shrugged her shoulders.

Travis took a step toward you. "Listen, baby, I can explain." You stopped him before he could lay a hand on you. "Just don't. I'm going back to bed, I'll see you all in the morning." You excused yourself from the group before Travis could get another word out.

****

You were wide awake for most of the night, running the last couple of months of your relationship with Travis through your mind, trying to pinpoint if there was ever a time when you had given the impression you wanted more from him than just him. Resolving that you weren't going to get any sleep, you got out of the tent, adjusting your eyes to the bright light of the morning. The campsite was empty, the sun barely visible over the horizon.

"Good morning", you jumped at the sound of Jason's voice, his hands full a tackle box and two fishing poles as he walked over to you. You stayed silent, kind of pissed at Travis' accomplice in all of this.

"Ah, the silent treatment. I know it well, Kylie gives it to me all the time." You let out a quiet chuckle at his joke, tight lipped otherwise. "There she is. I could use a partner for my fishing, makes the whole experience a lot less boring." Jason held up his tackle box, a proverbial white flag for his part in this weekend.

"Don't you think you should ask Travis?" Fishing really wasn't your forte, and you didn't think you'd be a good companion in your current mood.

"Uh, Travis, no. He's never been one for fishing. Besides, I think I owe you an apology for yesterday."

****

You sat on a rock while Jason set up your fishing pole for you, effortlessly flinging the line into the river before handing it to you. "I always said that if I wasn't in the NFL, I'd want to be one of those professional fishers. Just me, Winnie and Baloo on the water all day." Jason hummed as he casted his own line, leaning back on his forearms. You gave him a soft smile, pulling your arms into your sweater sleeves for warmth. You both sat in silence for a moment, listening to the water crash off the bank.

"My dad loves fishing, we used to spend pretty much every weekend either camping or fishing together. It was a big part of my childhood." You reeled your line in a bit when you thought you had bite, recasting when you realized you had just gotten caught on a branch.

"I had no idea." Jason adjusted his hat. "There's a lot of things you don't know about me." You let out a humorless laugh.

"You're right", he nodded, looking over at you. "And I owe you an apology. I really am sorry for misleading you this weekend. Travis has had his fair share of interesting girlfriends, and with everything that has happened in our career, I'm just very protective of him." Jason knew it probably didn't mean much coming from him, but he thought you at least deserved an explanation.

"I really do care about your brother, Travis. I'm not in it for the money or the fame." You swallowed, your eyes beginning to water. You let out a shaky breath, wiping your face with your sleeve.

"I know, I know. You two are really good together. I should have realized a long time ago that you were different. Hell, you're probably too good for my brother." You both chuckled. "Thank you, I accept your apology." Your moment was interrupted when you felt your fishing pole tug in your hands, your line starting to run away.

"Grab it, grab it." Jason instructed, guiding you as you reeled in your line. "Whatever it is, its gotta big huge if its giving you this much trouble!" You used all of your strength, handing it over to Jason when you lost your grip. As the last few meters of line came in, the giant catch was revealed: a tiny fathead minnow, probably weighed no more than a couple ounces.

"Ha!", you called out, allowing yourself to laugh and let the worry from earlier leave you. "You're welcome for breakfast this morning."

****

Travis' eyes lit up when he saw you walking back from the lake. He stood up, wringing his hands together in nervousness.

"We'll give you two some privacy." Jason and Kylie walked off to the car while you approached Travis. "Hi, did you sleep okay?" You could see the bags under his eyes; he probably got as much sleep as you did last night.

"Uh, no. I kept myself awake thinking of ways to apologize to you." You took his hand, your gaze falling as you rubbed your thumb over his knuckles. "Travis, there is no need to apologize. I know why you did what you did. You're not sure who you can trust now that you're Travis Kelce, best tight end in the league." You gave him a genuine smile.

"That's no excuse. You're not like any of the other girls I've dated."

"People keep saying that, but I don't know what that means." You climbed onto the top of the picnic table, Travis settling down next to you. "I just mean, I didn't have any doubts about you before we got here. You mean the world to me, baby."

"I'm so glad to hear you say that, Travis. I really care about you too." Your eyes dropped to his lips, Travis lifting your chin to meet his lips, your kiss soft and gentle.

"Good, the two of you have made up. Now we can all eat breakfast." Jason and Kylie returned with some bread, peanut butter and jelly for sandwiches.

"Wait, you guys didn't get any fish when you went out this morning?" Travis questioned, jumping off the table.

"Nothing was biting this morning, we'll try again tomorrow." Jason gave you a wink as he handed you a plate.

Taglist:

@sporadicpaperchopshop

@marz22224

@rosesnothornes

@macey234

@amylouwho9

@jackharlowscumslut

@gloriousmessofagirl

@ctn26

@xangelonmyshoulderx

@livinginmyfantasies

@caelipartem

@savaneafricaine

@thatchigirl99

@sweetlittlethings15

@buonalima

@tk87kc

@m-1234

@marchmaiden

@questionable-behaviour

@queenisa17

@anacarangel

@tjkelce87

@giannalove9202

@vir-tual

@fearisthehandthatpullsourstrings

@bernelflo

@caroline334

@hufflewhore128

@urbanandjackfanpage

@trust-tequila

@lightsoutstyles

@luvvtrent

@aga21

@talicat713

@brixo

@mmb219

@queenravioli

@there-goes-thefighter

@kmc1989

@princessmermaid1289

@fantasywritersstuff

@kelcemenow

@kristinamae093

@w1ldthoughts

#travis kelce fanfiction #travis kelce #traviskelce #travis kelce fanfic #travis kelce imagine #nfl fanfiction #nfl fanfic #nfl fan fic #nfl imagine

[ciellunee]

I DON'T DESERVE LOVE

Pairing- Kento Nanami x reader

Genre- angst, smau, hurt/comfort

Synopsis- Nanami is exhausted and snaps at his girlfriend, making him question if he's even capable of her innocent love?

It was almost 11 PM, and nanami was still not home. You were lazing on the couch, waiting for him to return. Nanami has been a little too busy for the past 2-3 months. You and Nanami have been together for almost 3 years now, and the past few months haven't been the best for the two of you.

Every time you tried talking to him, he'd get really frustrated and snap back at you. You understood his anger and frustrations were due to work stress and let him be.

It's been 13 days since you and nanami held a proper conversation even though you share the mansion. You missed him, his tired face made you worry and you became anxious and depressed. You wanted him to leave the job and find another one, a job that doesn't Overwhelm him like this, but you were too scared to present your views. However, today, you finally decided to voice yourself. This relationship isn't going to doom because of a stupid job!

You knew he didn't mean it. Kento wasn't one to ever hurt you on purpose, let alone make you cry, but today..... it was different.

You want to understand kento tonight aswell, you want to be a doll for him tonight as well. You want to drag yourself to the bed and sleep again, but something just snaps inside you. Your cheeks feel hot, burning water pouring down your eyes, not even realising you're crying, you try to text him back, to tell him you're not his servant but lover, that you demand his respect and crave his love and attention but you're too exhausted to do that. So you stood there, phone in your hand, throat and eyes burning as you let your overthinking get the best of you. *Did he really think you're selfish?*

You didn't realise when you fell asleep in the living room, on the hard wooden floor, face exhausted and strained, cheeks stained by tears you let yourself cry to sleep and for what? Your lover's text? You felt pathetic, "Of course, he was right. I'm always too much to handle he's tired of me" being your exact thoughts before fatigue took over you and your eyes closed.

At around 2:30, your boyfriend entered the home looking absolutely drained. The bags under his eyes are huge. He's done with everything, just wants to be in his love's embrace while he forgets all about his job.

Entering inside, he is met with a tired looking s/o lying on the floor near the couch. His heart sinks as he moves forward to see her face hot and tear stained cheeks. He really never wanted to see you like this, that's why he worked his ass off so that you would never face any difficulties in life. His precious darling could enjoy her life without worrying about deadlines or getting consumed physically and mentally. Nanami never wished to see you like this. His hands shook as he held you close to his heart, mumbling an apology you're too asleep to hear. "It's all my fault, isn't it? I couldn't be the person you deserve. I always wished that you would never get caught in a life where you'll have to trade that glorious smile off for some money, but I did it myself. I don't even remember the last time I made you smile~ You regret choosing me, don't you?"

His eyes gave up, and the stoic jujutsu sorcerer and monotonous salary man nanami kento was bawling. His body shook half from the fatigue and tiredness and remaining from the fact that he became the person he was trying to save you from. His mind played every memory, every moment you two spent together, every time you made nanami smile. Coming home to such a loving partner was his victory in life. It was his achievement. He wanted to protect you, to save your innocent heart, but now he was in his living room crying, contemplating if he ever deserved someone like you?

The next morning, you wake up in your room, your head aching wildly, but you ignore it and search for the only person you wish to see. Did he tuck you in? When did he come home? Where was he? But you could only find a note stuck to the nightstand. "I've got to discuss something really important with my boss, I'll be home soon. Ps- there's some sandwiches and your smoothie in the kitchen. Love (your ken)"

You blushed as your fingers kept going on your Ken. For some reason, this morning felt weirdly positive. Your heart fluttered, thinking you'll finally get to spend some time with your boyfriend after weeks of him ignoring your presence.

After a few hours, your phone dings grabbing your attention, a message from kento pops up~

#jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk kento #jjk angst #jjk smau #nanami smau #jujutsu sorcerer #salaryman #jujutsu nanami #jjk drabbles

[themalhambird]

(from the same universe as this, chronologically proceeds it. Picks up almost immediately after the final episode of Series 1)

Shahara is not going to miss her Baba’s birthday party because her taxi driver turned out to be a mad woman. She’s still not sure why she let this Iris Maplewood person keep driving her while she rambled on about time travel and quantum whatever, except that she’s been a copper long enough to have a sense for when she’s in danger, and she didn’t get that from Maplewood. So it was easier to take the taxi ride and put up with the rambling than it was to try and stop the cab, get out and walk -  and Maplewood refused to take a fare which was a bonus. So Shahara gets to the party exactly when she’s supposed to, and she revels in the hug she gets to give her son, and the hug her Baba gives to her. She revels in the crowd of family and friends- the Aunties and Uncles she can never remember if she has a blood connection to or not. That’s never been important. What’s important right now is good food and good music and good talk, and how good she’s gotten at distraction when the question of whether she has a man in her life yet or not comes up.

Except, throughout the night, at the back of her mind, is this nagging feeling- this unease about the fact that, well, this unease about the fact that she didn’t feel any unease when when some random cabby sprouting conspiracies about the Kyal corporation somehow knew a whole ton of personal details about Shahara’s life. And then there’s that sense she’s had all day, this- what’s the opposite of deja vu? The sense that suddenly you were in a place you hadn’t been mere moments before? She’d shrugged it off as tiredness- the stress of the job- she’d spoken to her inspector earlier about maybe putting in for some leave. And perhaps that’s an even better idea than she’d already been thinking. If she’s taking Iris Maplewood seriously, she’s cracking. 

I’m not taking this seriously, she tells herself firmly, sipping at the mocktail as she watches Jawad run about with the other kids.  I’m not going to think about it at all. I don’t believe-

“-a word you say,” Shahara tells Maplewood as she gets into the front of the woman’s taxi. “Just for the record. I’m agreeing to this because- I don’t know. I want to prove to myself that you’re talking nonsense, I guess.”

“I’m not, but that doesn’t matter. You’ll see for yourself soon enough,” Maplewood said. The car is sitting at the top of Longharvest Lane, headlights illuminating the alleyway. “I don’t know which of them it will be tonight, but one of them will show, I’m sure of it.”

Right. Either a detective sergeant from world war two or a detective inspector from the victorian era is going to materialise out of nowhere. Kyal, one of the biggest finance….trading….look, Shahara has never really been sure what Kyal is or does, and honestly she can easily believe that a corporation that big, handling that much money, is corrupt somehow. What she can’t believe is that it’s a Doomsday Cult and that Iris Maplewood comes from the future, and has travelled back to 2023 so she can get Shahara Hasan, and two blokes she’s sent others to fish out from the past, in to the same place to help bring Kyal down because together they already managed it once (sort of) by stopping an explosion that decimated the world…today, but also a few days in the future. Something. This is nuts.

“I hope it’s Hillinghead,” Maplewood muses. “He seemed- easy enough to reason with. I think. I don’t know, the memory’s blurry. It didn’t really happen, but also it had to have happened for it not to have happened. Bootstrap paradox, or something. I don’t know. There are echoes…I was sorry for him. I can’t remember why.” 

Shahara clenches her fist tight. She is resolutely not remembering some kid sitting at the table of a fast food place with a gun in his hand. She isn’t-

“Thirty seconds,” Maplewood says. “I’m going to just,” she switches the car headlights off. “Don’t want them exploding,” she explains. 

“Exploding?” Shahara exclaims. “You didn’t say anything about anything-”

The streetlamp outside flares white hot. Glass shatters, smashes some more as it falls to the pavement. There’s a red glow, almost like a bleeding wound, in the darkness ahead- for the briefest of moments. Shahara squints, trying to see properly, but the glow is too bright and everything else too dark…

And then it’s gone. There’s nothing but darkness and the rowdy sounds of London late at night behind them. Shahara stares, stunned, through the windscreen into the blackness beyond. Iris flicks the headlamps back on. In the two, brilliant beams of light, the blocky shape of a body can be seen crumpled in the road. “Oh my god,” Shahara breathes. 

“I’ve got a blanket, there’s a torch in the door your side,” Iris says. She’s already got her door open, pulling a blanket that had been folded up on her lap with her. Shahara fumbles to catch up, grabbing the torch and stabbing for the switch with her thumb. 

“Why a blank- oh,” there’s no need for the rest of the sentence. As they hurry over to him, Shahara can see that the man who appeared from nowhere is completely naked. He’s already stirring, running one hand through tousled black hair as he starts to bring himself onto his knees, coughing. 

“What the hell-”

His cockney accent reminds Shahara of the teenagers she’s spoken to on occasion- kids trying a little too hard to sound hard, to fit in. 

“Hillinghead?” she asks cautiously

“The hell is a Hillinghead?” He looks up at her. In the torchlight Shahara can see that he’s quite a handsome man- kind of dapper, except that there’s soot on his face. 

“Charles Whiteman?” Iris says. She hands him the blanket. Whiteman takes it with a frown- blanches when it apparently hits him that he’s naked, and hastily wraps the blanket around his waist like a towel as he wobbles to his feet. 

“Yeah? Who the hell are you? What the hell-” he looks around. “Where the bloody hell am I?”

*** 

So, time travel is, apparently, real. 

Iris has got a flat- they take Whiteman back to it, and Shahara…Shahara has to go back to work. She has to go to her job and deal and…honestly, it’s easier than it should be. The whole thing doesn’t seem real, even when she stops on her way home to drop groceries off to check in on the woman from the future and the man from the past. Even when she goes for drinks in the coppers’ pub, and she goes and finds the photograph from Whiteman’s era, just out of curiosity, and immediately finds a face she knows. Whiteman doesn’t seem bothered by the fact he’s in the future so much as grousing that his Inspector’s going to do his nut about his disappearing, and grumbling that ‘Esther’- whoever Esther is, kid sister, Shahara thinks, from the irritated-fond way of talking- is going to cause chaos if left unattended for five minutes. She likes him- she’s getting to like Iris too, truth be told- and he’s entertaining on a stakeout. Because they’re still missing a Victorian. 

By Iris’ calculations, Hillinghead should have materialised the night after Whiteman. But it’s almost a week later, and they’ve been watching each night, and there’s nothing.

***

“Hasan! Case for you! Take Rick.” She catches the slim file that’s thrown at her by the Inspector. “John Doe, Royal Hospital. Doctors reckon he’s well enough for talking. Need to find out who he is, need to find out how he ended up badly beaten and stark naked in Longharvest Lane.”

The folder drops from Hasan’s hands. “You what?” she says, but the Inspector’s already moving on, assigning other cases to other detectives, and Rick’s making his way over to her so she shakes herself and picks the folder up off the floor. She opens it, and finds a few cursory notes from the uniform officers that first attended: IC1 male, contusion to the right temple, assorted bruises, broken bones…found the night before Whiteman showed up. There’s a page of photos paperclipped in- she focuses in on the close up of a handsome face,if dishevelled face: reddish hair and a beard- a nasty bruise on his right temple. And there’s a photo of his wrist, as well, and it’s got the same mark that Iris Maplewood and Charles Whiteman both have. She manages to snag a photo of the page of photos on her phone before Rick reaches her, then hastily shoves it back in her pocket “You up for driving?” she asks. Rick grins. 

“Hell yeah. Thought I’d have to fight you for it.” 

“Nah. Jawad’s off school - stomach bug or something. To be honest, I could do with the time to message dad a bit, check in on how they’re doing.”

“Ah mate.” Rick says sympathetically as they head out to the parking lot. “Sorry. Hey, if you wanna swing by once we’re done at the hospital. We can always say we were chasing up a lead.”

“Nah, it’ll be alright. Mostly I wanna make sure he’s not conning Grandad into letting him eat nothing but ice cream all day. If we were closer maybe, but it’s out of the way. Besides, we might actually have leads.” 

She’s pretty sure that they won’t. She’s pretty sure that the man they’re about to speak to is from the 1800s and she really, really hopes he hasn’t told anyone at the hospital that because he’ll get himself sectioned faster than he can blink. She gets into the passenger side of the car, fastens her seatbelt, and sends the photo to Iris. This him? She writes underneath.

Fifteen seconds later, Iris pings a simple message back:

Fuck.

#bodies netflix #shahara hasan #iris maplewood #charles whiteman #my fic #know you are loved

[aeternallis]

It's honestly so fascinating to me how Porsche and Chay would handle the sudden wealth that fell onto their laps very differently.

Like, in that final scene on the boat, Porsche thanks Kinn—perhaps for reconnecting him and his brother to their mother, for loving him, for staying by him, etc., but I’ve always had a gut instinct that he was also thanking Kinn for getting him out of the gutter hole he’s been in for most of his life, yknow?

I mean think about it, he’s been the sole provider for Chay almost all his life, having to also deal with Arthee’s gambling habits, and making sure the last, physical legacy left behind by his parents remains out of the hands of loan sharks.

It’s no wonder in that final scene in the show, he’s confidently putting on the business suit that compliments Kinn’s colors, can ask Kinn almost a little too arrogantly, “does the Minor Family really have anything to do with the Main Family?” He’s sitting on that couch man-spreading with his arms stretched wide open, because not only does Kinn give him the validation that he belongs in this opulent new world, he has proof of it through his mother. While he’s happy that his mother is alive and that they can be a family again with Chay, Nampheung is also his excuse for staying in the glittering world of the mafia, yknow?

And what a load off his shoulders to finally not have to worry about money, to not have that sort of noose around his neck anymore. Sure, there are risks and dangers to this new life of his—but the rewards make it worthwhile for him. And besides, he’s high on the high-stakes lifestyle he’d been living with Kinn all this time. They’ve made it through some serious shit, how could they not be fated to be together forever?

It’s why he can thank Kinn so sweetly as he does in the boat, and just as easily, pledge his life to him.

But Porchay is so much more levelheaded between the two of them, despite being the younger one, despite being the one who has been sheltered by Porsche all his life.

Maybe it’s the pain of heartbreak from Kim, maybe it’s that he’s always been able to read when Porsche is hiding something from him, maybe it’s because for the first time in his life, he really is alone in making a decision for himself, without feeling obligated to make Porsche happy—maybe it’s due to all of these things that, unlike Porsche, he hesitates to quickly jump into the grandeur like his older brother.

I don’t necessarily think it’s that Chay has anything against material luxuries—he appreciates and covets them like any other person, if his initial reaction to Kim’s bribe gift of the new guitar is anything to go by.

But his immediate instinct is definitely not to feel like he’s entitled to them, or that he’s free to enjoy them.

I think for Porchay, it's more along the lines that he struggles with allowing himself to enjoy material luxuries in the first place. It's why he's more easily able to let go of the idea of going to college, to sell the house and move to a smaller dwelling with Porsche, why he can let go of the opportunity to go to Kim's school, like he'd originally wanted.

And it would line up more with his mindset too, in the way he's always thought of himself as unlucky. He doesn't allow himself to enjoy the material luxuries or any sort of opulence, because he's all too aware of how easily such things can be taken away from him. He's had multiple instances of it even throughout the show: he thought the money that Porsche had received from trading in the watch was safe, only to find out that Arthee had gambled it away. He thought the guitar from Kim was a sincere gesture of friendship and perhaps something more, only for it to turn out that Kim had been using him.

Perhaps he even thought that Porsche had genuinely found his dream job at the bar-at the very least, when he'd read that letter his older brother left-he looked like he wanted to believe it. Only for it to turn out that Porsche had put them in a lot of danger by becoming involved with the mafia.

Porsche may have not had access to the sort of luxury goods Khun, Kinn, and Kim have had all their lives, but during his time as a bodyguard, his salary was most likely nothing to sniff at either. And Chay would have had access to some of that money.

And yet, for all that he could have just gotten Kim something that was store-bought, the gifts he chooses to give to Kim are extraordinarily humble, more sentimental than anything else.

No wonder the guitar Kim had given him could so easily be discarded, yet it's Kim sending him their song that ultimately moves him to tears.

Porsche wanted the financial relief and security that the world of the mafia could provide for his family. But what Chay wants is something more lasting; when he tells Porsche he wants him to have peace, it goes without saying that that's what he wants for himself also.

#kinnporsche #kimchay #meta #these two brothers #and their relationship with the mafia brothers #never fails to astound me #kpts meta

[joelswritingmistress]

Last Halloween: Chapter 7

Summary: After a tragedy involving Joel happened on Halloween one year prior, the town now shuns him while ignoring the details of the now closed case. You are seemingly the only one to offer empathy to a man the town is making out to be a monster.

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

You scanned the room, taking in the cozy living room with a pair of couches and a television that sat above an old fireplace made of stone. It made way to a quaint, rustic kitchen where the aroma of Joel's cooking washed over you.

"Smells good in here." You eyed the table for two he had set up, complete with glasses of red wine. "This looks amazing."

"Well, why don't we stop the tour here for now." Joel said, "Are you hungry?"

"Very." You admitted.

He continued to tow you by the hand toward the table and the two of you sat down across from one another.

Joel lifted his glass and you smiled, doing the same. "To new beginnings?"

"I like that." You nodded. "To new beginnings." When your glasses tapped together you each took a sip. You watched him intently as he took his and smiled to yourself. "Thank you for this."

"You're welcome." Joel reached for his fork. "Thank you for.. bringing me back to life." He began to twirl a bite of spaghetti and you dug in to your plate.

After your first bite you looked to him. "Did you make the sauce?"

He nodded. "My grandmother's recipe. I was spoiled growing up." Joel gave a grin, "Ragu just didn't cut it."

"It's really good." You nodded in approval with half a bite still in your mouth. "Like, really good."

He chuckled and continued to eat. "I'm glad you like it."

"So, how long have you worked at the garage?" You asked him.

"This is year thirteen for me," Joel explained. "Ronnie hired me in my late 20s. I kind of bounced around from job to job before then."

"Did you always like working on cars?"

He nodded. "I started off doing oil changes and a little bit of the easier stuff on my parents cars and my own. And then I really got into it in high school and learned the trade a bit better."

"That's awesome."

"And you said you're almost done with nursing school?"

You nodded. "Almost. Then I can finally start making some real money. I should've just done nursing for my undergrad. It would've been a lot cheaper."

"What'd you get your bachelor's in?"

"Journalism." You gave a laugh. "I couldn't find a job and I always thought about nursing, so I went back." You shrugged.

"Good for you." Joel nodded. "Where ever you end up they'll be lucky to have you. You really care about people. I think that's rare."

You shrugged. "I just have to pass all my tests and practicals."

"You will." Joel sipped his wine again. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry you were upset about me while you were at work."

"No, I just.. I just had too much time to think about what you've gone through and.." you shrugged to end the thought.

"I don't like seeing you so upset.. especially over me."

"Well, I'm not upset now." You smiled at him across the table.

"Me either."

You both sipped on your wine again and finished up your plates of spaghetti, talking about family and friends and life in general. It was light and easy.

"I'll get that," Joel offered when you were finished.

"Oh, thank you." You rose to your feet to help him clean up a bit and then topped off your wine glasses.

"Movie?" He asked when you handed him back the wine glass. "Or will you turn into a pumpkin if you're not home by a certain time?"

You smiled at the Cinderella reference. "No curfew for me."

"Good."

You headed into the living room and kicked off your shoes to get comfortable on the couch beside him. When his arm draped behind you, you took it as an invitation to snuggle against him.

Joel immediately pulled you in closer as he began to scan Netflix for something to watch. "You want something scary?" He asked, clicking on the horror section.

"Anything is fine." You smiled as he moved through some of the titles. "Ohh I heard that one is supposed to be good."

"Which one?"

"Sick it's called. Winnie watched it with her boyfriend. I think it's like a Covid slasher."

Joel turned to you and after a brief pause you both started to laugh.

"Okay, I made that sound really ridiculous," you admitted, though he pressed play to get it started.

"I'll take your word for it." Joel chuckled and set the remote down, took one sip of wine and then took a deep breath as the movie started.

You rested your head on the highest part of his chest and draped an arm across his midsection. Your hand found a gap in his clothes, between his pants and shirt, and you let your fingers dance across the warmth of his skin while the brutal opening scene of the movie almost made you close your eyes.

Joel chuckled at your reaction and tightened his arm around you.

"We don't have to watch it," he said.

"No, I like these," you informed him, "I'm just jumpy." Your hand snaked up the bottom of his shirt a little more and you sensed his body tense up a little.

Joel turned to you when you did that and you slowly tilted your eyes up to look back at him. He focused on your mouth, then back to your eyes again and then back to you mouth.

You swallowed hard when he said your name so softly that you weren't even sure if his mouth moved as he said it. You didn't have time to respond as your hand left where it rested on his abdomen and glided through his hair. At the same moment his lips connected fiercely with yours.

The kiss instantly became intense. Deep and dominating and full of something that had never been there before. It was full of feeling; full of hope and lust all in one neat package.

You laid back onto the length of the couch as he slid his body on top of yours. Making out with him like this was even better than it had been out by his motorcycle.

You drew your hands up the back of his shirt, forcing him to duck out of it and let it fall to the floor. The push of his clothed erection between your legs made you moan and gasp and sink your fingers into his bare shoulders.

"Mmm," you whined. "Joel, I want you." You knew you sounded desperate but you didn't care. You had never been this needy for a man in your life.

He pushed back onto his knees, reaching for the band of your pants. You gave him permission with your eyes while pushing down at his hands, encouraging him to do exactly what he had started.

Joel's chest heaved with a deep breath and he swallowed hard when his eyes landed on the black panties Jessie had suggested you wear when packing. You mentally thanked her for that and then all thoughts of Jessie or anyone else left your mind when Joel's fingers eagerly dragged those panties off, tossing them to the side.

And then his mouth collided fiercely with yours again as he set about doing things with fingers that had you grabbing a fistful of his hair.

"Joel," you whispered his name amidst a chorus of whimpers and he devoured your mouth again, leaving you breathless. You almost couldn't take the pleasure.

The smacking of your lips against his was the only sound aside from his heavy breathing.

"I want you," he choked out, echoing your words as he kissed the tops of your breasts.

Your eyes were practically rolling in the back of your head and your thighs were trembling. It was bittersweet relief when he removed his fingers from between your legs.

You pushed a hand down on his lower back and then attempted to shove his pants down off his hips. Living out this moment was all you could think about all day.

Joel pushed back to a seated position, arching his hips so he could free himself from his pants. You drank him in sitting there, half undone already as your body lingered in heat from the absence of him. You sat up and reached for him as he tossed his jeans away.

Joel intercepted your pursuit of him and pulled you onto his lap. He moaned into your mouth again when you picked up where you left off. Your bare lower half grinded against his tented boxerbriefs as you made out with him.

A second later he fulfilled your daydreams when he freed his erection and guided your hips to align with him. You couldn't even wait a second. You lowered yourself down onto him as he wrapped his arms around your bare back and pulled you back in for a passionate kiss.

You moaned, feeling him fill you completely. Joel whispered your name again and his panting breaths landed against your open mouth as you moved on top of him.

The strength of what was building was staggering; mind-blowing. Your body was going to be blown away to dust, to thousand little shards of pleasure when this hit. If he stopped, you'd cry. Cry and beg..

Never. Never in your life had sex felt so intense that your body and mind lost all self-control. You knew you wouldn't be able to hold anything back.

With every muscle drawn taut, you came. It was almost too much. Almost. You held Joel harder than ever, stiffening your body and nearly convulsing from the pleasure. You weren't sure how many times his name left your mouth.

In that same moment, as you continued to ride out your orgasm, you caressed him and absorbed him until he finished inside of you. Joel was a raw, sweaty, panting mess with his hair pulled in all directions from your relentless pursuit of him. His palms pressed against your sweaty back and he hugged your body against his as he basked in the afterglow of your love-making.

He pulled back with tenderness and gratitude, toying with your own wild hair and rested a hand on your cheek. Joel kissed you firmly again with his eyes shut and exhaled out loud.

"You are amazing," he murmured.

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER 8

*I added a few people to the tag list. If you would rather not be tagged just let me know!

@untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @grogusmum @ghostwritesthings @strawbunnyx @ayamenimthiriel @noisynightmarepoetry @jiminstinypinky @tuquoquebrute

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #joel miller x oc #joel miller angst #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fanart #protective joel #joel miller x female reader #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal age gap #pedro pascal x ofc #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal pictures #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro x you #pedro pascal gif #pedrohub #halloween ends #Halloween #halloween ends crossover #joel miller x original character

[winchester-girl67]

Wild Hearts (Part 5) - Six Years After Dean Left

Summary: It's been nearly six years since Dean and the reader became friends. Now that they finally have a chance to reunite he's desperately hoping for a chance at the love they denied themselves in the past. 

Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader 

Square: “All I wanted was a happy ending.” 

Word Count: 3,137 

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21-22, Dean is 26-27), time jump, mentions of physical abuse by a parent/violence/death, pining, a hint of jealousy, protective!Dean, kissing/cuddling, fluffy fluff fluff 

A/N: These two are adorably irresistible together. Ultimately decided to post the rest of this series in the order I wrote it because I feel it reads better. 

_____ 

Six years after Dean left. 

The town you once thought would never feel like home had grown on you since Dean. That’s how you thought of him, as if Dean was a fixture in time, in your past; a turning point. And he was. So you hadn’t stayed in hopes of his return, it had been six years after all since he left. You stayed because it was home. 

Your brother eventually moved to the city, with that blonde you thought it would never work out with, and now you saw him on weekends when they dropped by for dinner and a day at the beach. They didn't have any plans for getting married or having kids though, and that was fine, they were just young and in love, or lust depending on who you asked.

You still lived at home for the time being to save money while you commuted to finish off your final year of college. You liked life by the beach. It was simple and though it could get crowded with tourists in the summer months, you wouldn't trade it for the bustling city life.

Summers were spent working with Cas at his local art gallery. He needed help during the busy season and he lacked the people skills he needed to sell his creations. His family had helped him acquire the place since they were well off and you were pleasantly surprised at his handiwork. He turned out the most beautiful carvings and sculptures from driftwood and found objects he'd picked up from the beach.

You didn't regret taking a gap year to figure out what you wanted to study and you settled on a degree in Business. In your spare time, you volunteered at the youth group in town that you and Benny organized together. He had been all in when you proposed the idea to him and you both wanted to create a safe place for kids -both like and unlike Sam and Dean- to go to for support. Even if that just meant playing board games, making crafts, or taking them sand surfing for an afternoon so they'd have a place to go where they wouldn't get into trouble.

Dean was pretty proud of you when you told him about it and promised to visit back in February. But he never made it out and you lost contact for a bit after that. You guessed life got in the way, but it made you a little sad.

You still loved getting his postcards though and had been on the tips of your toes ever since the latest one arrived a couple months ago. He'd written that he was 'coming home' and 'soon' but he didn't say when. So when your mom handed you a postcard that afternoon, you nearly leapt out of your skin.

There was no stamp so you figured he had hand delivered it and he'd written, '...meet me under our streetlamp...' your heart beat so fast it felt as though it would fly away if it wasn't held in by your ribcage.

You had bought a new dress in the hopes of seeing him after his last postcard and rushed into your room to throw it on. Every time he'd seen you was in jeans and boxy t-shirts and even though you knew he didn't care, you wanted to look nice.

Sure it was a little chilly outside, but the length of the dress reached your ankles and you wore leggings underneath, a light jean jacket overtop and sneakers, because heels take balance. Which you didn't have. Then with a glance in the mirror, you dashed out the door towards your truck, still the same ridiculous burnt orange colour as the day you got it. 

You pulled into the empty parking lot of the pier, instantly spotting the mint-condition, shiny black Impala. You parked beside Baby, but Dean wasn’t in the driver’s seat and the engine was cold when you hopped out of your truck and felt the hood with your palm. You peered inside, not a single takeout bag or ketchup packet in sight. Not that he didn't eat that type of food but he kept her tidy like she deserved. 

Backing away from Baby you noted her brand new-old headlight and the lack of dents in the front bumper. Dean must've finally found those parts he was checking every salvage yard for. 

You turned on your heel and glanced down the lot, spying Donna’s ice cream shop; it was around the same time of year you met Dean which meant the shops would be closing soon for the winter. You smiled and looked across to the bench that sat under the streetlamp. Your spot from that night six years ago. 

A man sat on the bench staring out at the horizon as a sailboat headed towards the harbour in the distance. He turned his gaze as though he felt your eyes on him and squinted, then stood up.

You thought you'd recognize Dean anywhere, but you couldn't remember the last time you video chatted and when you had, the connection was too fuzzy to see anything other than frozen pixels. You stepped slowly towards the man, giving him a squint of your own eyes and tilting your head. Mirroring him when he smiled.

"Y/N?" He called over the distance and you'd recognize that deep voice anywhere. Dean. 

You ran towards him with a beaming smile and jumped into his arms, knocking him back a step. His hands clutched your waist and he lifted you and spun you around as he laughed.

"I almost didn't recognize you. Are you wearing a dress?" Dean chuckled and set you on your feet.

Your cheeks burned, "Well, I remember you were a big fan of the skirt." You teased him about the time he saw you in your school uniform and his cheeks burned just as red. "What's this?" You brushed his jawline with your fingertips, feeling the stubble against your skin.

Dean's neck flushed under your touch, "Uh, yeah. I probably should've shaved again before I came here but I didn't want to take a chance at missing you."

"I dunno, I think it kinda suits you," you shrugged, unable to keep your smirk to yourself. "Your beard was practically nonexistent when we met."

"I don't think you wanna talk about things that were practically nonexistent when we met." His eyes dropped to your chest for half a second.

You gasped and shoved him in the shoulder and he burst out laughing. You couldn't help but notice the natural tone in his muscles and how much broader he'd gotten.

"You grew up." You squeezed Dean's shoulders, barely able to get your hands around them now. 

"I should be saying that about you." He sucked his lip as he looked you over. "Seriously, though. Did you get taller?" 

"Yeah, sure. Let's call it taller," but you knew what he really meant. You grew into your body and you owned it now even if you still dressed like you were a sixteen-year-old tomboy most days, but you weren't afraid to throw on a dress every now and again for special occasions, like today. 

It was a bit of a gloomy day but there was enough warmth in the way he looked at you that you didn't care.

You grabbed his hand and tugged him to sit on the bench with you. "I missed you."

"We text almost everyday, Y/N." He smiled. "And talk as much as possible."

"Not for a while now. You kind of ghosted me after Valentine's day." You said, still holding his hand and playing with his fingers between yours. "I should be more mad at you, but I missed you too much, I couldn't not come meet you if I tried."

"It wasn't fair to you," he squeezed your fingers in his, "I’m sorry, Y/N. If it’s any consolation, I missed you every minute.” He bit his bottom lip like he did often. "But we both know we couldn’t be together back then-”

“All I wanted was a happy ending for you, Dean." You cut him off and waved your hand. "And Sam, and you guys have that now, in California. I'm so happy for you."

"Yeah," he breathed and brushed his hair back, not that he needed to, it was much shorter now. "About that. I'm not going back." You dropped your jaw and pushed your brows together. "With my father gone, there's really no reason to stay away anymore," he grabbed your hand and clutched it to his chest, "And every reason in the world to stay right here."

"But won't you miss Sam?"

"Of course, but he has Jess now and he doesn't need me anymore. I think for once in my life, I'm going to do something completely selfish and, despite some painful memories, I've always loved this town. It's where my mother grew up and had my brother and me. She taught me to ride my bike on this pier, I have the scar on my knee to prove it and I taught Sammy four years later. My friends are here, you're here. I don't think I need much more of a reason than that."

You stared at him and opened your mouth, then closed it, speechless, and he smiled.

"Y/N, when I picture myself happy, it's with you. In this town, with this ocean and that ice cream," he pointed to Donna's across from where you sat on the bench. "I wanna settle down, have a family with you; raise our kids in a house that's a home and have a happy little existence with my dream girl by my side."

"I'm your dream girl?" You blinked up at him.

"You've been starring in my dreams for longer than I care to admit. And now here we are. Same spot as the first night we met. Sam is safe and I don't have to deal with my prick of a father anymore. You're almost twenty-two, I'm twenty-six and the five years between us is just that."

"Um, Dean..." you bit the inside of your cheek and he deflated.

"You're with someone, aren't you?" He asked and you nodded twice, trying to hide a smirk. "That makes sense. You're beautiful and smart and strong and I never had a chance. The timing is always gonna be wrong for us and I shouldn't have expected-" He sighed and rubbed his knuckles like they were split, but this time they weren't. "He better treat you right."

"I love you."

"Huh?" His green eyes flicked up to meet yours and you let the smirk take over.

"I love you." You repeated.

"I don't think your boyfriend would appreciate that, Y/N." He shook his head, his breath heavy.

"Oh, I don't think he'll mind." You leaned into him and let your lips connect in a quick kiss. Dean was so stunned he didn't move and you whispered, "In case you didn't catch on, I'm talking about you."

He bit his lip and laughed silently. "I think you made that painfully obvious, sweetheart. But, way to give a guy a heart attack."

You didn't set out to wait for Dean, but you weren't about to settle for any less either. And keeping in touch over the years kept those feelings alive; like feeding fuel to a flame and you could feel the fire in your belly.

You kissed him again, "You made me wait."

"It wasn't easy for me either," he cupped your cheek and brushed your skin with the pad of his thumb. "And I love you, too, Y/N, more than you’ll ever know.” 

He wet his lips and pressed them to yours. The heat from his mouth warming your skin and his hand tangling in your hair. It wasn't your first kiss with Dean but somehow, it felt like it was. It was the beginning of something real, with nothing to hold you back and keep you away from each other.

A butterfly sprung to life from the fires in your stomach and you drew back, "So, what now?"

"What do you mean?" He brushed your hair behind your ear.

"What happens now? Do you move into your father's old house?" You asked.

It had been sitting empty since him and Sam left and now that John was dead, everything was in their names. It wasn't something that Dean ever wanted to talk about but you'd found out that John finally picked a fight with someone big enough to fight back. 

"I'll burn it to the ground before I move back there." He almost laughed though he was completely serious. You couldn't imagine the painful memories that place held for him; they overpowered anything nice their mother had been a part of creating there. You couldn't blame him for not wanting to go back. "Cas and Benny said I could stay with them, they have a spare room and it'll give me time to sell off the house and find a place of my own. And maybe if I'm lucky, by then I won't have to move in alone?" He cocked an eyebrow at you that held a thousand questions.

"That depends," you sighed and glanced away from him, then back.

"On?" He smiled, knowing you were teasing him again.

"Whether you snore when you sleep, duh." You rolled your eyes playfully.

"I'll buy you earplugs." He kissed your cheek, then your lips.

_____

Four months after Dean came back.

It was cold outside, freezing actually and snowing heavily. If this wasn’t the last of the boxes, you and Dean would’ve waited to bring in the rest. You plopped down onto the floor in the living room amongst the many other stacked boxes. You’d accumulated more than you thought over the past few years, but you didn’t think it was that much until now. Dean set his box on top of the others and ignored it when they started to lean, opting to lie next to you on the floor and risk getting crushed by cardboard and clothing instead.

He rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand. He gazed at you and reached out to brush the snow from your eyelashes.

You closed your eyes.

It was a cute little two story house that Dean had found with a wraparound porch, no walkway, and a big backyard. The house itself needed a lot of work, Dean saw nothing but potential and thought it was a steal. You had to agree and you weren't opposed to rolling your sleeves up and putting a little elbow grease into the place you would eventually call home. 

When he first told you that your dad had helped him get a job in mechanics at Sandover Bridge and Iron, you were surprised to say the least. You always said you would never date a man whose job took precedence when it didn’t need to and you worried Dean would overwork himself to prove his worth to your father. But your father had figured out his work-life balance since you were a teenager and if he could do it then so could Dean; so you made an exception as if it was ever an option to walk away. Besides Dean always made it home for dinner and honestly without him, your new home together would just be a house. 

What you had with him only came around once in a lifetime, you knew because you never felt the same about anyone else. Not even close. 

You opened your eyes. 

Dean looked at you like he could see your whole future together. Like nothing could tear you apart. And nothing would because you would never give up on each other.

"What are you thinking?" You asked even though you were pretty sure you already knew.

"That it's midnight and we'll very likely be snowed in by morning," he leaned over you and you felt his weight as he kissed you. "And we don't have a shovel."

"Benny could come dig us out," you breathed and he pressed his forehead to yours. "He owes you for fixing up his Jeep anyways."

"Mm," his lips brushed over yours, "I can't believe he still has that thing. Too bad we don't have a way of calling him, though."

"What are you talking about? I have my phone right here," you pulled your cell from your pocket but Dean took it and tossed it out of reach.

"Oops, guess we'll just have to stay stranded." He smirked and you laughed as he pecked kisses to your cheeks, squirming when his lips reached your neck, "Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart."

You opened your mouth to speak but he silenced you with a kiss until you were breathless, then he started working over your neck with his tongue. You giggled and laughed until you twisted out from under him with a red spot on your pulse point. 

This moment was perfect with him, but incomplete. There was only one thing missing to make it feel like home.

"Which box is the hammer in?"

"I think that one," he pointed to the box near the doorway, "Why?"

You pushed on his chest when he tried to kiss you again and he rolled off you, watching you curiously. You jumped up and dug around in the box until you found it and a nail, then grabbed the framed photograph you'd set aside in a box of breakables. He sat up and smiled when he recognized the frame.

It was the gift he'd given you before he left six years ago. The selfie of the two of you during your day of sand surfing. It was the first thing you'd hung on your wall back home and you wanted it to be the first thing you hung up in this house, too. Your home with Dean.

Over the years, you went from loving that photograph to hating it and back to loving it. You knew it was contingent on the way you were feeling about Dean at those times, but you never took it down. Until he asked you to move in with him, then it was the first thing you packed.

You curled your finger at him and he followed you into the master bedroom. You hung the photograph on the wall and dropped the hammer when Dean wrapped his arms around you from behind, swaying you back and forth; he smiled as brightly as he did the moment the photo was captured. 

Dean looked at the photograph with you and dropped his chin to your shoulder. 

"Love you," he kissed your cheek. "You make me stupidly happy, do you know that?" He kissed your neck, making you giggle.

"You make me stupidly happy, too."

_________________________

Part 6

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

SPN: @hobby27

Wild Hearts: @justrealizedimmascifygurl @evieluvsjamie @kimberkingrivers @vicmc624 @ladysparkles78

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #au!dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester #spn fanfic series #dean x #dean winchester x #au!dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural dean #dean winchester series #spn series #dean series #spn reader insert #wild hearts series

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Hello! I hope you're doing well! I've been reading your blog for the past few days and have really enjoyed it, so thank you for all your work! If you have time, I would love to see Hanma added to your Hand Her Over Series.

Hand Her Over III: Hanma Shuji x Fem!Reader

wc: 1k

tw: smut, gun play, angst, the WERKS

masterlist

Hand Her Over Megapost

The laugh is loud, riotous, almost unhinged.

But Manjiro doesn't flinch.

When Hanma finally settles down, Mikey adjusts his shirt, picking at invisible lint before clearing his throat. "So?"

"No," Hanma drawls, kicking his feet onto the desk and leaning as far back as he can in his chair. "I've been with y/n for nearly two decades. I'd never agree to that." Mikey sighs, placing his hands back in his pockets and staring at the jovial man.

"I had a feeling you would say that." Hanma laces his fingers together in his lap, not moving an inch. Mikey, however, looks up at the ceiling just as something scrapes across it, and the sound of stumbling footsteps rattles the flimsy chandelier right behind him. There's a loud thump and then the sounds of arguing.

Hanma's eyes flick from the ceiling back to Manjiro, but he remains stoic. Mikey and he stare at each other for a long while, each daring the other to move or make a noise. Hanma begins to calculate how long it'll take him to knock Mikey out cold and get to you.

Less than a minute.

"You don't have that kind of time," Manjiro whispers, knowing. "In thirty seconds, the sedative will wear off."

"That leaves me with plenty of time to fuck you up."

"Not nearly," Mikey admits, pulling a gun out of the back of his pants. "Not if I shoot you where you sit."

"You've never been one for guns," Hanma jokes, tilting his head to the side. The gun follows his movements. "You don't want to fight it out for old time's sake?"

"Not really." Even Kisaki hadn't been this cold-blooded. Hanma thought if he just dug his hands into the inkpot one last time, he'd be able to walk away with the girl, the money, and the clean record. "And I don't trust you."

"I've never cheated you before, Mikey."

"You just did."

Hanma has to think and fast.

"We'll share." Mikey pauses, finger resting on the trigger. "Take me up there. I'll share her with you. She'll be more at ease with me there, anyways. You get what you want, and so do I."

"You want to watch me." A statement, not a question. Fuck no.

"I'll go in there, get her to be okay with it, and we can trade off." Say no. Mikey lowers the gun, the depraved look on his face not wavering.

"Get her to agree first." Hanma's feet drag like lead weights as he climbs the stairs toward where they're keeping you. Stay calm, stay calm. She'll be scared if you don't stay calm.

The door opens to a plain room, and you're on the floor, gagged and bound, tears leaking out of your eyes. When you see him, you perk up, breathing raggedly and trying to speak. "Get her to agree," Mikey reminds Hanma, standing back far enough that you can't see him.

"Hey, princess..." Hanma stoops low and unties the blood-smeared cloth around your wrists. "It's okay. It's alright." Once your hands are free, you push yourself up, shaking and shivering. Hanma moves to undo the gag next, but Mikey huffs a soft,

"Leave it." Hanma pulls his hands back and you reach for the gag, but he takes your hands in his. He inhales deeply, attempting to exude calm and confidence.

"Did they hurt you?" You shake your head, lips trembling. "Good, good." Tears run down your face in rivulets, and Hanma reaches up to wipe them away. "Listen to me. You have to be a good girl for me."

You nod rapidly, sniffing. "Be a good girl for me." Hanma takes the cloth that was around your wrist and places it over your eyes. You break into a fresh set of tears, staining the flowered - not blood-tainted - cloth. "Be a good girl." He finally reaches for the gag again, and it seems Mikey knows what he's about to do because he doesn't stop him.

Hanma takes the scarf out of your mouth, and you begin babbling incoherently, trying to understand, trying to make sense of it all. Hanma ties the scarf around your wrists as you burst into tears again, sobbing woefully and wrenching his heart in two. Hanma pulls you close and kisses your wet cheeks, trying to savor every single second he has alone with you before the monster walking into the room can steal you away.

"I love you," Hanma whispers softly. "I love you so much. Just be good."

"Han-ma," you choke out, mucus smearing on his shirt. "Shu-ji, what's happening, I--" Mikey cocks the gun again, and Hanma moves you so you're chest to chest while you're on your knees. Mikey's hands move to flip up your skirt, and your voice breaks off as you begin to shout for help, shout for anyone, shout for someone--

But Hanma holds you against him, closing his eyes and listening to you cry out in anguish. His ears can't even make sense of the words anymore, and his tinnitus takes over, muting the rest. Tears drop onto his face, and Hanma wonders if he could just block all of this out and pretend it's not happening as you remind him of a trapped animal attempting to break free.

The exact moment when Mikey penetrates you shocks him back into reality, however, and your body goes rigid. Hanma presses your face into his chest, holding you tight and whispering, "I'm sorry," over Manjiro's grunting and huffing. The gun is still pointed in your general direction, and Hanma watches as Manjiro loses himself in the moment.

"It's almost over," Hanma murmurs, but you've long gone silent. "I promise." When Mikey grunts and finishes, he puts the safety back on his gun, zips himself up, and leaves. Hanma waits until he can't hear footsteps - and then another ten minutes - until he shifts up off the ground and scoops you into his arms.

In a daze, he walks down the stairs and to his car, where it's waiting for him in the garage. No one sees him, no one is there to notice him. But for once... for once, Hanma wishes there was someone there. He slides you into the passenger seat, takes off your blindfold and wrist tie, and shuffles to the other side of the car, barely noticing the semen that's dripped onto his pant leg.

"I'm gonna get you home and get you cleaned up," he hoarsely promises you, ignoring his own tears. "I'll make it right. I promise."

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #shuji hanma x reader #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji #shuji hanma #tokyo revengers smut

[spiralwriting]

Promises

(look at me being productive, woo hoo)

Promises should never be broken.

Despite the knots that tightened sickeningly in my stomach and the salty river that threatened to spill from my eyes with each passing second, that sentiment circled my brain, flashing like a neon sign.

No matter how much it hurt.

No matter how much I wish I could be anywhere but here.

A promise is a promise, no matter the pain it causes.

So in spite of the dread settling in my heart, I face the man I've come to visit- the man I promised to visit.

This is far from the first time I've sat on this decrepit old chair across from the equally uncared for table, but the white hot glare it reflects never ceases to scolded my eyes; exposing them to the ugly truth of the situation. A Truth I'd trade for anything: a miracle perhaps. A miracle I'd use to travel back in time, one I'd use to prevent this all from happening. How? I don't know, but I'm sure I'd find a way.

If only I had the chance.

Today is particularly grim, so grim in fact that I wish I hadn't even bothered rolling out of bed this morning. Although, I wouldn't miss today for the world, even if it causes me unparalleled amounts of agony.

I can't miss today, it might be my last opportunity to say goodbye, because I don't think I can bring myself to come back and face him if things don't end up going well.

"You didn't have to come today..." His voice, soft, yet tense. "I know this must be hard for you..." he feels it too, the pressure in the room.

Sighing, I shake my head, "No matter how I feel, today is important. I want to be here for you before shit goes down."

This afternoon, the final trial, the verdict. It's terrifying, but it's unavoidable. The gang has been together through thick and thin, today is no different. Currently, there have been no hints towards what might happen, so it's completely up in the air, which makes it that much more unnerving. Ashley is supposed to be giving a statement to the court, which is interesting, seeing as nobody had asked any of us to do so.

"Well I'm glad you're here," a small, feble smile spreads across his scarred face "I will admit, I was really happy when the guard told me you did end up coming."

I can't help the smile that creeps onto my face, knowing that I made his day a little brighter during this bleak time. "Good news for you then, I'm not going anywhere, love."

A yawn suddenly overtakes that smile, drowsiness swallowing my body. "You look exhausted," concern shadows his face "you haven't been sleeping right again, have you?"

I run a hand through my hair, averting my gaze to look at the dull concrete walls of the room instead of his rather unimpressed expression.

"Don't worry about it, just a couple of late nights." My eyes return to meet his, but he doesn't seem convinced.

"Mmhmm."

I can't help but laugh bitterly at his disbelief. I'm aware that he knows me far too well to fall for that blatant lie, and he knows it to.

"Let's be real here, the words 'sleep schedule' haven't been in my vocabulary since I was 12 and they released clumpy."

From the serious look on his face, he didn't appear to like my joke too much. "Has this whole thing been stressing you out? It's okay if it has, i understand that but it shouldn't stop you from functioning. You still need to take care of yourself-"

"Relax! It's nothing to do with this, it's just work n' shit." Lier.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

He sighs in defeat, wether he believes me or not, he doesn't push further. "How have you been anyways? Up to anything interesting?"

I think for a moment, resting my head lazily in my hand, whilst the other traces imaginary shapes across the fridgid table. "No, not really. Life's been pretty boring since we lost most of the group." My eyes narrow "I spend most of my time working now, trying to get enough money to get myself a place." Head shifting to look at him once again, my hand stops and relaxes. "When I'm not working my ass off, I'm usually here." Or drinking my life away in the dark abis my room.

He sits back in his chair, tilting his head slightly, something I've always loved about him, even now, it's so... Cute. "When's the last time you spoke to ash?"

Mirroring his actions, my face falls in distain. "Not recently, that's for sure. I've talked to her about all this, but she's certain none of it is real, that were just deluded by childhood fantasies." A scoff falls from my mouth "So I haven't bothered with her."

"I know it's frustrating, she's expressed the same feelings towards me when she's been here, but you can't isolate yourself like this." He moves forward, holding his chained hand out for mine. I oblige. "You're gonna end up alone, and that's not what you deserve."

My grip on his hands tighten as I attempt to conceal my frustration, "I know, I don't want to end up alone, it's just so... Ugh!" Ripping my hands from his own, I rub my face, aggravated "I just don't understand how after everything she still doesn't believe us. After Larry, after Todd, after..." My gaze falters and falls to the table "... You."

"Her friends are getting hurt, and I don't understand how she just doesn't care." I burry my face in my hands.

After everything we've been through together, her complete disregard for anything I, or anyone else has to say, is pushing me to the edge. I know I'm not insane, despite what she might think.

"Don't say that," guilt consumes me at the somber tone of his voice "she does care, in her own way, she just... doesn't understand. She's still out friend, remember that."

I peek at him through my fingers, he's leaned forward again, brows knitted together and sad look in his eyes. He's hurt by her disbelief, I can see it, but like always, he sees the best in her, like he does with everyone. Like he did with me. He's so sweet, so kind, and I'm once again brought back to how. How could this happen? I believe him when he says he had no choice, but why. Why sal? Why the most genuine, most loving man on this earth? It's not fair.

But when has life ever been fair to him?

My head falls forward, hands dropping and hair covering my shameful face, "Yeah, sorry, you're right. I'm just frustrated, you know? It's hard to understand where she's coming from but... She probably feels the same way, huh?"

"Yeah, she does. Can't blame her, she was never as involved as we were in the cult."

The guilt falls away with the force of a waterfall, replaced with uncontrollable rage at the mention of the cult. They caused all of this. I haven't thought about, nor touched anything to do with it since the incident. Why would I when all it does it cause harm and heartache to those who get involved? As soon as this whole thing is over, I don't plan on sticking around long.

"Alright Mr. Fisher, times up." A guard saunters lazily into the room, looking at a sheet of paper. "you've got an appointment with Dr. Enon before your trial."

Blankly, I stare at the man that interrupted our conversation. The world around me begins to dissolve as I realise the time that approaches.

I rise to my feet, legs feeling numb, and as if I could collapse at any moment. My steps feel staggered as I make my way out of the melancholy room. In contrast to the dull, lifeless room I previously sat in, the seemingly endless halls are pristine, bright and somewhat less depressing. Though, it still feels devoid of life.

My body turns and takes a step forward towards sal.

"I'll see you in the court room, okay?" My hands caress his mask, fingers running smoothly across his scruffy hair. Guiding his face up, I lay the ghost of a kiss on his forehead, keeping it there for a moment. "I love you, Sal." A whisper, a secret, a promise, only for us to hear.

A relaxed exhale releases loudly through the holes of his prosthetic, head leaning against my chin slightly. "I love you too..."

"Come on, let's go!"

I glare at the guard overtop of the mop of messy blue hair, releasing his face and taking a miniscule step backwards. A smile sits painfully along my face as we say our farewells and I watch him turn and make his way down the hall.

I stand there for what feels like hours before he finally rounds a corner.

My face falls.

#sal fisher #sally face #sally face x reader #sal fisher x reader #fanfic #part 1 #sal x reader #angst #tw death and shit #fanfiction #sally face fanfiction

[risquefanfics457]

Hi! If your requests are still open, would you be able to write Giorno x Shy!Fem!Reader where they’re childhood friends and Giorno gained feelings for reader over the years and wants to confess but doesn’t know how? Maybe reader feels the same way and wants to confess too?

Thanks!! :D

Did I spend 2 hours writing this because I got hyperfocused? Yes. Worth it? Yes.

Giorno and the reader are both 15 at the start and 18-19 by the end. ENJOY!

“Amica?” 

You knew that voice. It had Giorno all over it. Giorno and you had become friends when he moved next to you when your were both 4. He’d changed his name to Giorno, and you respected that, only his mom and step-dad called him Haruno, as he was known in Japan.

“Gio Gio?” You stepped out on the porch of the cafe you worked at, “What is-?” You stopped. Standing in front of you was Haruno Shiobana or Giorno Giovanna as he liked to be called but… blonde.

“Santa merda! Gio Gio, you’re blonde!”

“I know!” He threw his hands in front of him, “I woke up this way!”

You looked at him, gathering all the details you could. He was still the same boy. Same jade eyes, “What happened?”

“I woke up this way!” He waved his arms about, “Can we talk about this?” He pointed to his newly golden locks. It practically glowed in the sun, “Uh, I have a 15 minute break soon.” You stuttered.

“Okay, I’ll be here.” He wrung his hands and leaned awkwardly against the lamp post.

“Or you could come inside.” “I don’t have any cash on me.”

You chuckled, “I can still get you a water, on the house.”

He nodded, “Alright.”

You waved him in, “It’s not like anybody will recognise you anyway.”

“You did.” He said quietly

You blushed silently, “Be with you in a few.”

“So you woke up, and now you’re just blonde?”

“Yeah! Like my dad.” He whispers

“Whoa, you never talk about your dad.” You are even mor eintrigued now. Giorno had a peculiar picture in his wallet that he said was his biological father. The man in the picture was build strong and almost scarily so. But the defining trait Giorno knew was from that man was the star shaped birthmark on his upper shoulder. 

“I mean, I didn’t think this is what puberty did.” You teased, “What colour do you think my hair will turn?”

“Pink?” He laughed, “No, that a ridiculous colour.”

“Yeah, nobody in their right mind would have pink hair.” You laughed together.

“What would you even do if you met a dude with pink hair?”

“How should I know?” He laughed, “I’ve never seen one, and I doubt I ever will.”

“Well, you could grow it out.” You said

“I could, we could style it like those old magazines we used to read as kids.”

“I can see you in a braid.” You grin

“We’ll see.”

“Ehi! Y/N, back to work, I see you going 2 minutes over your break!”

“Gotta go.” You stand up, but Giorno stood as well, “Me as well, goodbye, Y/N.” He customarily kissed you on both cheeks, something you’d taught him a long time ago. Watching him leave, you went back to taking orders as you wished that you’d had the nerve to teach him a new kind of kiss.

A few weeks later, he stopped in again, “Amiga!”

“Hey, got money for an actual coffee this time?” You called down the stairs

“I do, but that’s not the point.” He climbed the cafe stairs to meet you, “I’ve figured it out.”

Him suddenly so close with that piercing gaze had you pull away, flushed pink. “What?” 

“I figured it out. The drug trade, everything.”

You looked quizzically at him, “You mean the mafia?”

He nodded, “I’m going to join them.”

You blinked. Wow, you’d lost it. Who knew serving 17 macchiatos in an hour would finally push your brain past its breaking pointt?

“Amiga?”

“Sorry, you lost me. What’s the plan?” You wiped down a table

“I’m going to become a gangstar.” 

You nodded, “See, I keep hearing you saying you want to join the mafia.” You shake your head.

“I did say that.” He tries to meet your eyes, “All the drug problems, the law being run by criminals, it can be solved, I can solve it.”

You couldn’t believe what you heard, “You’re 15.”

“I know. I need all the time I can get, I have to start early.” 

You put the cloth and spray down, “Tell me you’re kidding me.” You kept your voice low, you didn’t like catching attention of others.

“No, I’m finally going to do something about all this.” He took your hands in his and you noticed him stutter, “W-we grew up surrounded by people influenced by drugs, isn’t it time to do something about it?”

His change in demeanor prompted you to break out into a red blush. He wasn’t usually so… forward. It was different. You automatically sank back into your shell as red as a crab as other people stared. “Giorno, this is insane. You can’t join the mafia, it’s an early death sentence.”

“I get that, but things are different now.”

“But why you?” 

“Because kids like you and I deserved to have good childhoods.”

That struck a nerve, “Giorno, I want to talk about this more, but I need to stay focused on my job right now, I’m sorry. I’ll call you when I get home, okay?”

He took a deep breath and stepped away, ”Okay. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s alright, I’m just worried about you. I care, okay?”

“I know.” He smiles earnestly, “I love that about you.”

Before you had a chance to reply or even register what he said, he was gone.

You called him that afternoon. Nothing. You called him again later that night. Nothing. You called him the next morning. Same results. Life went on, agonizingly slow. A week went by. 

You should have just told him when you had the chance.

A month. 2 months. 4… 8… a year. You gave up after 3 years…

“Andrea, I need you to calm down. The report doesn’t have to be done until noon tomorrow. You have a full day and 3 hours to draft and finish it.” You spoke on the phone to a colleague. “Yes, I’ll be in on tomorrow… no, you don’t need me to proofread it, you’re an adult, you can scan your own emails for typos.” 

A knock came from the front door. “Andrea, take a breather and write when you’re ready.” You hang up. Why your co-workers who were 5 years your senior needed you to spellcheck was beyond you. The knock came again, whoever it was, they were impatient. You checked the glass and caught a glimpse of blonde, and your heart skipped a beat. You calmed yourself and opened the door. It wasn’t him. Of course it wasn’t. A man in a green suit was standing in the doorway, “Buongiorno signora.” 

That name. He had to say buongiorno. Of course giorno was a regular word, but it followed you everywhere, and you felt your heart flop sadly every single time you heard it. 

“What can I do for you?” You cross your arms.

“My name is Pannacota Fugo, my boss wishes to speak to you privately.”

You nod, “Okay, I’m guessing you’re from a law firm or something?”

“No, signora. I am from Passione.”

Despite the decrease in crime regarding the mafia, the word stung, it was the mafia group Giorno mentioned. God, if they were looking for Giorno… but they couldn’t even ask you, you had no idea where he went either.

“What about it?”

“You may know him.”

“I don’t know anybody from the mafia, I make it my business to stay clear of their business.” You go to close the door.

“I’d reconsider. The boss says he knows you personally. I’m here to take you to see him.”

You steeled your nerves, “I said no.”

It was a skill you were working on, you’d become better at not being so shy.

“Right. Well, Giorno sends his regards then.” Fugo says and goes to leave

“Giorno?” Your heart almost jumps out of your chest, “Giorno Giovanna?”

Fugo nodded.

“I’ll get my things.”

You pulled up the a house. It was lavish, even on the outside. 

“He’s inside.” Fugo holds the car door open for you. 

In just some clothes you’d thrown on, you climbed the steps to the house. You stopped at the door. Fugo followed you and nodded to some guards who opened the door.

“Where is he?” You asked the blonde man.

“On the left.”

You rounded a corner and on a chair in a large room was a man.

“Amiga?”

Your face flushed at the sound of his voice.

“Please, leave us.” The blonde man stood. He was just as handsome as he was before, but now, toned and his blonde hair was long and braided down his back. He wore all black. You stared dumbfounded at him.

“It was hard to find you, you changed jobs.” He chuckled. That laugh made a old shiver run down your back, one you’d thought you’d lost.

You stepped back and tripped over a chair behind you. Without missing a beat, he caught you. But that didn’t make sense, he was on the other side of the room. But something caught you. You caught your balance and eased yourself up, still in shock, “You’re… here.”

He nodded with a hint of pink on his cheeks, “Yeah, I’ve been here for a few years now.”

“You… you never came back.” Your face heated up.

“I’ve been getting a handle on crime before I brought you to me. I didn’t… I didn’t want you to be a target.”

“But you could have called.” 

“I’m always being watched, Amiga. Nothing was going to be a secret these past years.”

“You’re still calling me amiga.” You said.

“Well, I thought maybe we were still friends.” He sighed hopefully

“I, I don’t even know what to think. I… I hated you. I hated that you said nothing and left. But I missed you, and I still do…” You held your head in your hands, trying to name all these emotions running through you.

“I loved you.” You finished.

He looked wistfully at you, “Me too.” 

“Well, w-what now?”

“Well, it’s up to you. We can start over, or we can just, let this go. I’ll let you go back to how you’ve been.”

There was a long pause,

“I… I want to be near you, but this can’t have just… not happened. I think-”

“So we should start over?” He nodded

“Not from the beginning.” You got closer and touched his face, “I still know you, at least I think I do. I might not, but I want to.”

He leaned into your touch.

“I still know this face.” You brushed your thumb over his cheek. You chuckled, “To be honest, I dreamed of this face.”

“Really?” He chuckled pleasently, a sound that made the butterflies in your stomach flutter

“I face I wished I’d kissed.”

“You’ve kissed my face plenty of times. You’re the one who taught me to do it.” He smirked. A vine snuck around your wrist and a flower appeared in your palm.

“Then the face I wished I kissed in more than one way.” You leaned in. You pressed your lips to his left cheek, and then the right, and as the sun made the rose coloured curtains behind you project a pattern of pink on his face, you sealed the confession with a gentle kiss on his soft lips. His hand curled around your face and tucked your hair behind your ear, “I wish you showed me this was to kiss earlier too, Amiga.” He smiled.

“Yeah, if this is how it’s going to be from now on, I’m going to need to be something more than amiga.” 

His response was quick and sauve, “Then this is the greeting kiss you should expect from now on, cara mia.”

#giorno giovanna x oc #giorno giovanna x reader #giorno x reader #part 5 x reader #jojo giorno