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dinogoofymutated · 23 days

Note

THAT POST ABOUT CLEANING IN THE FLOWY DRESS? THINKIN ABOUT HANK? HNNNGGG PLEASE I BEG OF YOU

NSFW!Beast/AFAB!reader. - NSFW HCs! I was already on it when I got this ask heehee. These hcs were originally suppost to be part of another NSFW request I got for him but I was thinking about this too hard and comepletely forgot the actual theme of the req! So I decided to save it for later and just post it under your ask lol Anyway I need him my god. I was writing this while picturing watxm Hank but I'm pretty sure it works for any version. TWS: MDNI!!! smut under the cut. PNV smut. Eating out/head. Cum descriptions. Reader written with Fem in mind and also wearing a dress is mentioned, but overall no pronouns used. Creampie. Getting caught after the fact but not during the deed.

Okay, We all know that Logan has incredible stamina, and there's quite a few mutants that you would just expect that from anyway, but I'm 100% sure the one person that a good bit of people would NEVER expect to have insane stamina in bed is Hank. Like yeah he's nerdy, but dude straight up went to college on a SPORTS scholarship on top of his academic ones.

There is no fucking way this man has anything other than the most insane stamina. Dude is the perfect package of nerdy genius and athletic perfection. Can you imagine how long he could go on for in bed?? While you're sweaty and absolutely exhausted he's having the time of his life. Sure he's sweaty to but he's still. fucking. going?? It's like you'd been having sex for three minutes instead of four hours. He obviously gives you breaks and takes care of you, keeping you hydrated and such- but every time he begs you for "just one more". He's so gentle when he's gathering up your limp body and he's kissing your temples and forehead and massaging your tender spots, but he's a scientist at heart. He wants to know how far the two of you can really go, and he wants to know BAD.

I saw in a post somewhere on tumblr that he mentions that the one thing he doesn't have control of is his libido or something like that? It was from a comic snapshot so obviously this isn't even a hc it's fully cannon I don't make the rules.

THE FUCKING PHEROMONE THING!! For those of you who don't know, Hank was confirmed to have some minor Pheromone manipulation abilities. Like oh my god?? I definitely think that he will use it in sweet ways where he just wants some cuddles without asking you for them, but I feel like when he's hot and heated he just subtly does it without even knowing. Like he's super pent up one way and for some reason every time you greet him or pass him by you just start having more and more inappropriate thoughts about him. He'd feel so guilty if he catches himself doing it but at the end of the day, you don't really mind. Don't think too hard you beautiful big guy, can we just fuck already??

He will absolutely use his strength to hold you in any position possible. As long as you're both comfortable with it no position or hold is off the table for him. I don't think he'd be into BDSM or anything that has to do with hurting you, but I do think he's the type to read through the kamasutra and want to try all the positions to find the one you both enjoy the most.

He will fuck in the lab. He might do a whole "Oh my! Not in here, dear ;)" But most of the time he's instigating it! Sure he makes sure to lock the doors and everything but he's not shy when he has you splayed across his work tables, bent over you as he gently kisses and brushes his fangs over your skin. He likes how flustered it makes you.

He also cums A LOT. Like a lot a lot. He's most certainly got the heaviest balls you've ever seen, and they're not just for show. Every time he cums inside he causes you to practically overflow, and he's usually still cumming when he finally pulls out of you as well. He's a little embarrassed about it, and will clean you up very well because of that. He doesn't want you to deal with the sticky feeling of it drying on your skin, especially not if you have sensitive skin/texture issues. He is defiantly down to eat his one cum out of you though ;)

also, I think that he has a thing for long flowy dresses. I know there's a ton of dudes who say they like them bc of "easy access", and I know for a fact that Hank would find that sort of mindset disgusting. He just loves how beautiful and feminine you look in them, and also just happens to really enjoy the feeling of the fabric against his arms as he hitches up your skirt, his hands trailing up your thighs. As depraved as it might be, he also likes giving you head underneath your long skirts. He'd be apologising for being so ravenous and thanking you for letting him have you in such in intimate manner, all while giving you the most earth-shattering head. He's just so sweet about everything in the bedroom I swear.

You swear you didn’t fully expect to be in this exact situation when you were getting dressed this morning. Sure, you knew exactly how much Hank loved to see you in sundresses and were definitely going for a certain reaction out of him, but you never would have expected to be pinned against the wall of his lab, his large hands cupping your ass and thighs as he holds you suspended whilst using the wall as leverage. His thick cock is pumping in and out of you at a quick, needy pace. He goes back and forth from biting his lips and letting his moans and groans ring out and echo in the cluttered space. You’d never done this position before, although you certainly knew that Hank had more than enough strength to pull it off. Still, you were sure that the image of him fucking you, hands beneath your long skirt as it bunches at your hips and drapes down below you, was certainly a sight to behold.

“Ah- Please, let me know if this is uncomfortable in any way- nhg… I’m sure your anatomy is taking me quite… deeply, in this position.” Hank grunts, his thrusts deep and steadily paced in a manner in which he knows you like best. You smile at him, desperately trying to keep your eyes open as your hands clench and unclench on his shoulders every time his thrusts catch you Just right.

“Is that what you’re calling it now? “Studying” my anatomy?” You muse. You wonder if he had noticed you catching on to the glances and stares he does when he thinks you’re not paying attention. You purposely poke your chest out as you mention it, and Hank huffs in amusement before he buries his face into your semi-exposed cleavage, licking and sucking as he shifts your weight onto one hand as the other takes hold of your cheek. He puckers your lips, nipping at the top of your breast before he pries himself away, sending you a smug smile as he leans in teasingly close.

“You know, I really think we could be using that quick tongue of yours for something a little more useful than backtalk.” Hank chuckles. He kisses you in a way that leaves you breathless, still holding you effortlessly even with a single hand as he keeps up his thrusts. His free hand drifts down to your clit as your walls begin to flutter and clench around him, a sign that he knows means you’re approaching your peak and fast. His kisses match the intensity of his hips as he closes in on his own pleasure. You cum barely a second before he does, his cum warming your insides as he cums, and cums and cums. He overflows your cunt quickly, and it drips down your legs when he pulls out. Hank makes sure to help you keep your balance when he sets you down, your legs shaking from your orgasm but also a bit numb from the position he had you in. He kisses you gently as you recover from your high, doing so over and over again all across your skin. The gentle touches make you giggle a bit.

“Had a feeling that we would end up like this today. Maybe I should wear dresses like this more often.” You hum. Hank chuckles deeply before drawing you into another sensual kiss, his hands stroking up and down your now-clothed body in a loving way.

“I wouldn’t mind testing that theory.” He says when he separates from the kiss. You shake your head at him, laughing a bit more as you cup his face with love.

“Of course you wouldn’t.” You say sweetly. Hank is smiling at you, his hands beginning to wander again right before the two of you hear a mortifying swish of the doors. Hank quickly tucks himself back inside his pants before the two of you instinctively turn to face the door where Logan is standing with a bit of a confused look on his face.

“Logan! We were just-”

“Hey, Logan! Nothing to see here!” Both of you are scrambling to fix the situation, utterly and spectacularly failing as Logan takes one sniff of the air and then smirks.

“I’m all for a bit of risk, but at least lock the door, lovebirds.” Logan gives the two of you a sardonic wave before marching straight back out the door. Leaving both you and Hank more than a little mortified. As embarrassing as it was, you can’t help but begin to laugh, Hank joining you as you shake off the adrenaline of technically being caught red-handed.

“Let’s go wash off before we have any other unexpected visitors,” Hank suggests. You agree wholeheartedly, your laughter picking up once again as he lifts you off the ground in a bridal hold to head to the showers.

#I do have to say he was definitely about to lift reader back up and eat them out till the cows came home before Logan interrupted #x men comics #x men #x men headcannons #x men 97 x reader #x men 97 #beast #beast x men #x men beast x reader #x men beast #x men beast headcannons #x men beast smut #hank mccoy #x men hank mccoy #hank mccoy x reader #hank mccoy headcannons #hank mccoy smut #wolverine and the x men

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jebewonmorelike · 1 year

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Pay You Back

wc: 1.3k (failed my own 1.1k challenge but close enough) pronouns: none used; n/a warnings: fluff, some themes of social anxiety/embarrassment in public but nothing descriptive, asking about financial troubles, hao being both your mom and boyfriend, he's in zb1 in this summary: idolboyfriend!hao has to come rescue reader when their card declines at the grocery store and he is not prepared to find out the reason it's maxed out. ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ so i wrote this to see if i could force myself to limit to under 1.1k words... i have a tendency to get carried away and not as many people like longer fics so. i failed bc i went 200 words over but it was a pretty close. anyway if i write shorter works, i can write more so i want to get back in the habit of it. better for my stress levels too lmao. just finished my second "semester" back at school i'm so happy!! third semester stars 7/3 tho so that's annoying but. i have one whole week to do nothing (except work but). ANYWAY hope you enjoy :)

“(Y/N)?” You hear your boyfriend’s voice as he enters the grocery shop. Even though Zhang Hao is quite reserved, he’s more than willing to make a small scene if you’re in trouble. “(Y/N)!?”

The store owner, who is also manning the checkout counter, lifts his arm high enough for Hao to see it over the aisles, pointing at you exaggeratedly— more than unamused.

Hao rushes over to where you stand in the checkout lane; your groceries half-bagged, half sitting askew on the conveyor belt. A couple people are beginning to line up behind you. He frowns, trying to decipher what about this scene could’ve possibly made you text him:

🚨 EMERGENCY AT MARKET!! PLEASE COME HELP!! 🚨

“Honey, what’s wrong?” He asks, brows furrowed in confusion. “You said there was an emergency!”

“Is not being able to pay for your large grocery order after someone has already gone through the trouble to scan and bag most of it an emergency?” The owner asks, resentful eyes still locked on your embarrassed ones.

Hao starts to open his mouth to respond, but the owner cuts him off. “I’ll answer for you. It is an emergency... if the owner forgot to pay his utilities bill and the electricity went out while his wife was curling her hair for work this morning.”

Your boyfriend glances at you then back at the store owner. “Right…”

“I tried to just leave, but he kept this exact same rant going for ten minutes,” you whisper to him as the owner continues to moan and groan about how his wife chased him around the house with a slipper. “I’m really sorry to bother you. I know how busy you are.”

Hao shakes his head definitively. “It doesn’t matter how busy I am— I’ll always have time to help you out,” he says with an affectionate smile, raising his hand to squeeze your right shoulder comfortingly. “As long as you continue to conveniently call when I’m already on lunch break.”

You sigh, looking back down at your shoes in embarrassment.

“Did you forget your credit card? Is that the issue?” Hao asks, taking his wallet out of his back pocket before you even answer.

The store owner laughs. “Worse. It declined.”

Hao looks at you concernedly. Maxing out your credit card was not like you at all. Despite the occasional shopping splurge, you were usually quite practical with money. The look of worry on Hao’s face is valid.

Still, he hands his own credit card to the store owner and begins throwing some of your grocery items into bags himself. As the owner hands Hao his receipt and credit card back, you pick up a few of the bags and head toward the sliding doors. Hao grabs the last bag and follows quickly behind you.

When you’re outside, you breathe a deep sigh of relief; even a couple of people’s annoyed stares had caused your heart to speed up and your body temperature to rise. Hao falls into step beside you, but it takes you a few moments to relax enough to remember he’s there.

When you finally look over at him, he smiles reassuringly. The token introvert had set aside his nature (and sacrificed his coveted lunch break) to rescue you. And he’d also paid for your groceries.

“I’ll pay you back,” you promise softly, cheeks turning rosy once more.

Hao purposely bumps into your side as you walk, trying to get you to smile and break your tension. It works. You scrunch your nose up at him in a smile and he glues himself to your side, hooking a finger in your back pocket to keep you as close as possible as you make your way down the quiet street.

After another few moments of comfortable silence, Hao clears his throat. “So,” he starts, trying his best to sound nonchalant. “Are you behind on credit card payments? There’s no shame in it; it happens.”

“No,” you answer simply, shaking your head as you steal a glance at your boyfriend. You watch as his brow furrows in confusion.

“Oh,” he replies, lips forming a small pout. “Well, you know you could tell me if you were, right? I'd do my best to help you if that’s what you needed.”

“I know,” you say with a smile, watching again as he blinks curiously-- trying to figure out what the problem could be. “I’d tell you if I was having financial problems. I'd refuse your help, but I would tell you.”

“Right,” he affirms, nodding as if to convince himself that he could end his interrogation there. He fails, of course, and an unstoppable flurry of questions begins to fall from his lips. “So... So what happened? Did the card expire or something? Why didn’t you use your debit card? There’s money on your debit card, right? And I know you despise cash, but--.”

You stop walking and Hao’s finger still hooked in the pocket of your jeans pulls him back to face you. “There is an incredibly simple explanation for this,” you explain, placing your grocery bags on the ground for a moment as you pull your credit card out of your phone case. “This card isn’t my usual credit card. It’s a very limited credit account that I opened for a specific purchase. It looks almost identical to my actual credit card I use on a normal basis so I grabbed this one by accident before I left this afternoon. I was in a rush and couldn’t find my debit card, so I took what I thought was my credit card thinking I’d be fine, but... I was obviously not fine.”

“Ohhh,” Hao sighs, nodding in both comprehension and relief. “Well that makes a lot more sense. I was worried about you! I didn’t think you’d suddenly developed some sort of debilitating shopping addiction, but...”

“Rest assured,” you soothe, picking your bags back up and continuing with your boyfriend down the street to the bus stop. “I have plenty of money. I wish I had more, of course. But it’s enough to survive for now.”

“Are you sure you want to take the bus?” Hao asks, running his hand down your back comfortingly. “I can drive you.”

“No, you can’t,” you reply, taking the last grocery bag from his hands and draping it on your arm. You rummage through it for a moment before pulling out a fresh deli sandwich. “Your lunch break is almost over and I've used up all of it already. So, eat this on the way back to Wakeone or I will find you and I will shove it down your throat myself.”

“I can see you’re back to normal,” Hao says with a grin, taking the boxed sandwich in his hand as you reach the bus stop. “I love you.”

“Love you more,” you say, checking to make sure no one is around before kissing his cheek. His eyes closed, he sighs blissfully.

Your bus makes its way around the corner, pulling to a stop in front of you.

“Oh, I forgot to ask,” Hao says quickly as you walk up the steps. “What was the purchase that you opened that new credit card for?”

You turn around, biting your lip in a smile. “I bought 40 copies of your debut album!”

“YOU DID WHAT!?”

You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen Zhang Hao more shocked than he is right now. You’re lucky the sandwich box didn’t fly out of his hand and onto the sidewalk.

“It’s okay: I’m pretty sure I made a good investment!” You call back with a wink to your boyfriend, whose jaw is still dropped as the bus door begins to close. “Didn’t I?”

All Hao can do is nod-- a slow, exaggerated nod as he processes what you’ve said.

You wave at him, grinning-- any embarrassment you had felt ten minutes ago entirely washed away. Zhang Hao may have had to buy your groceries for you, but you think you might’ve already paid him back.

As the doors close, you call to a now smiling but awestruck Hao:

“You’re welcome!”

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fluffalpenguin · 11 months

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@arcvmonth day 24: the manga

oh man oh MAN it's vj day!!!!!

it's pretty funny how all my gifs are mostly yuri-centered huh

Under the cut:

revisiting my review of the manga from last year

Headcanons and fic/comic ideas

rambling about an old WIP

small playlist! (with write-ups!)

First of all, here's the 3,000 words analysis/blog thing I wrote last year when I first finished it.

One and a half years later, I still largely agree with it! There's some headcanons I wrote in there that I completely forgot about, lol, so I'm glad past me posted it somewhere for current me to relieve it again! (The rants were also kind of funny to re-read too)

***

Next, headcanons!

Lately, I found myself wondering about Yuto and Yuri's outfits; specifically-

...Why are they walking around Maiami with dramatic red/black capes?

After some time in the kitchen, I decided that when Yuya was younger, he was really into good versus evil roles when rehearsing his dueltainment lines. And who else better to serve as his practice opponents than his two brothers who aren't off busy making rounds at the stadium on a D-Wheel?

Tying his own fluffy, white towel around his shoulders, Yuya throws a nearby black blanket to Yuto. The oldest is initially a little embarrassed about the notion, but no one can ever say no to the baby of the Sakaki family, can they? (He'll just have to live the shame down from the twins later on... They barely even respect him as they are right now, anyway) In the middle of the duel, Yuri walks in onto the two of them after having finished his homework (or tweaking his deck). He raises an eyebrow at Yuto's appearance, but gets the gist of the situation when he sees their duel disks activated and Yuya standing on top of the sofa in a similar attire. As Yuto steals Yuya's schtick and becomes a tomato, Yuri pouts about being left out and quickly leaves to hunt for something that will allow him to join the fun. When the duel ends, Yuto passes the baton to Yuri. As he watches the two rattle off silly, goofy lines like, I will destroy the planet, the universe, all the worlds! and, Never! I'll stop you, fiend!, Yuto sighs in relief. At least Yuya now has Yuri to LARP with. Maybe Yugo would volunteer too, once he returned from driving practice and hears about it. Though, he'd likely ask to play the part of the hero himself. Anyway, Yuto's already almost in middle school; he's getting a little too old to play with costumes now. Then afterwards, at dinner, with an angelic smile Yuya says, "Yuuto, can we play like that again sometime? You look so cool with a cape!"

Yuri on the other hand, always had a tendency for the melodramatic, his own personal spin of the theatrics he's seen from his dad! Deep down he really loves playing the villain.

(This was meant to be a short description but I couldn't help putting some fic-like sentences in there tehe also yes that's a reference to the conversation between Yuya and G.O.D./Eve)

***

(warning: angst ahead)

Another headcanon I have that I want to write/draw something for is that in the postcanon where Reiji, Yuya, Isaac and Ren travel through space and time together, Yuya has moments where he falters to his grief.

He's used to his brothers commenting and nagging him on almost anything and everything (A midnight snack? Think about your complexion, Yuya!) and his world is suddenly a lot more quiet. In his hurt, he starts to avoid Ren, not wanting to be reminded of what he's lost (He doesn't feel good about it).

Eventually Reiji intervenes and Yuya opens up a little. He's been unable to properly let himself grief for his brothers. All he wants to say is that he misses them.

But he doesn't feel like he has the right to do so, having being the one to seal their fates by personally destroying the one method of bringing them back to life. He doesn't regret his decision of course, but he's unable to stop himself from feeling this way too.

It has a happy ending; Reiji convinces Yuya to talk to Ren. Yuya shares stories about Yugo at Ren's request, making the both of them laugh. Yuya realises that there are other methods of bringing back people to life, too, even if only momentarily.

But it is enough.

***

Misc hcs:

Yuya's charisma and attitude is a combination of his three brothers fawning over his cuteness from birth and Yuya being so star-struck with Yusho's performances he attempted to replicate the movements ever since he could walk.

Being the oldest, Yuto feels a sense of responsibility for his brothers and pledged to take care of them in place of his always-missing parents. However, he oft times finds himself not having to do much because Yugo and Yuri are so determined to win over Yuya's heart (and be proclaimed 'favourite brother') that they also make sure to set a good example for the youngest when possible. This causes Yuto a little bit of an identity crisis (/j it's just for fun) until he settles into his role as the househusband cook.

"All of us... are connected by... the arc of destiny!"

Reiji and Yuya are supposed to be silhouetted by their fathers, so Yuzu is meant to seem like she's looking at Yuya, but is in fact looking at Yusho. I also think VJ Yuto should be allowed to smile more!

This drawing is meant to be my love letter to the manga as a whole, and ESPECIALLY the last duel between Reiji and Yuya. I talked about it a whole ton in the review linked above already, so go check that out if you haven't!!

I was really happy with the composition when I first made this, especially with Sora/Ren/Isaac Versus the Yus mirroring their duels! (Well, okay, I know Isaac didn't duel Yuto but.... just give this to me)

Anyway I really wanted a fun and positive energy for it! Every month I think about returning to this but I get slightly demotivated when I realise I have *zero* colour references for both Ren and Isaac... Please send in your headcanons...

***

Last but not least, last month I got brain worms for another animatic/hand-drawn MV for Eve's Fight Song! I'll never ever have to time to go back to it, but I wanted to take the chance to talk about other songs that make me ill when I think about them with the manga.

1. Myth & Roid - TRAGEDY:ETERNITY

Don’t give me an eternity Even if that’s all I can believe Press pause on the flow of time In the shadow of the blink of an eye I don’t wanna fall into a sleep ‘Cause now you are my remedy Now knocking on, knocking on, knocking on my brain Even for the temptation of a nightmare Fate demands a costly reparation for its fare

Translated lyrics mostly from lyrical-nonsense, but I made some changes for better rhyming and flow yahoo!! This song is what I imagine the OP would be in my dreams when it received an anime adaptation, I've always dreamed of making my own animatic to it!!

Not just the chorus, but the ENTIRE SONG (pleeeease go take a look at the lyrics) feels like it's made for the manga please please go take a look

2. MYTH & ROID - -to the future days

I cast my wishes to the future days If we can meet on the other side of eternity… I cast my wishes to the future days What should we talk about first? Sadness and even joy will, eventually Will sleep together That's the way life is If such a world could be granted Would nobody feel hurt anymore?

Yeah I like M&R quite a bit, how'd you know

If T:E was the hypothetical OP, this is my pick for the ED theme, like AAAAAAAA for me it encompasses the yu's story so so so so so so so well, though

And:

Both despair and also life come to end eventually Take this future into your hands and let it run its course Spin it ’round…… The hands on the clock spin around Like flowers, petals falling and fluttering Once we blossom, we dissipate in the moment THE BRIDGE THE BRIDGE THE LYRICS ARGHHHHHHHH This is definitely for me, the moment when the three yus start to fade during Yuya's battle with Eve, their last conversation they have with yuya..... *lies onto the ground in a pile of misery*

Rest of the lyrics HERE shoves it into your face

3. MAISONdes - Tokyo Shandy Rendezvous

It's no joke, no it's not! Tokyo Shandy Rendezvous Even when the time comes nothing will come of it Vague truths only become melancholy Come on and snatch me away now, take on me!

This is a fun one, when I watched the PV and in the chorus Lum was spinning I instantly went wow what if that was Phantom.. and then the lyrics bared their claws and sunk them into my brain and hasn't really let go since

Unlike the above two songs, not all of the lyrics are a perfect match, of course, but I adore how in general the whimsical yet lonely nature of the song feels like it fits Phantom so well!

4. Eve - Fight Song

As the night still refuses to end, let’s dream

Last but not least the song I posted the above storyboard for! CSM fans (as well as Eve fans, lol) are probably already familiar with the song, and full lyrics here, though like the song above, only parts of the song (particularly the chorus) really resonated with the vj brainworms in my head lol Even for me, y’know Let’s make a break for the future Towards the verge of death like we pray for A boy that gave his word Today, just like back then As if there’s no more future ahead

Sigh.... Yuto, Yugo, Yuri................ Just let out your voice Let’s take it easy We don’t even know common sense, so we know the world through wise eyes These overflowing feelings, behold Greet me with an applause

I love the first half a lot, I can easily imagine Yuya saying it to the other three... and of course, the latter, from him to the world! (or perhaps even G.O.D...)

As always thanks for reading GOODBYE I GOTTA GO DRAW SOME ARC-V OCS

#arc-v #arcvmonth2023 #arcvmonth #arc-v manga #pasu does not shut up

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mysteriawrites · 1 year

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Rules and Regulations:

DNI if you are one or more of the following:

Racist

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In summary if you’re gonna be a jerk kindly move along please

Please do not:

Plagiarize

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Give unsolicited criticism (some polite constructive criticism is fine tho)

Doxx me or anyone else

Share any personal identifying information (name face address etc): this is just a personal thing i grew up with strict internet safety rules and ik some people are more comfortable sharing things like their name or their face but im not and i think it’s better in practice not to so id prefer if you didn’t share that kinda thing appearance description is fine but like your name or anything like that especially cause i most likely wont use your name unless asked personally in which case that’ll be a private post (however pet picks are v much welcome plz send them).

What I will not write for:

Smut: I don’t know a thing about sex other then the biological understanding so I don’t think I could write it very well nor do I feel comfortable with writing it so sorry im fine with insinuating it tho 😉😏

Anything hateful towards irl people

Anything political

Romance with children

Incest

Noncon

Anything that makes me uncomfortable: if you request something that makes me uncomfortable that is not this list i will explain why im not writing it

What I will Write for:

Note: if you want to request more than one fandom you can, but it has to be separate asks for each one because my headcanons are kind of long.

Fluff

Angst

Gore

Headcanons

One shots

Matchups

Original stuff I come up with out of boredom

Character x Reader

Character x Character

AUs

Pretty much anything that wasn’t on the will not write for list unless or until i say otherwise

List of Fandoms:

Note: I’m in a lot of fandoms and always joining new ones so if there is a fandom not on the list that you want feel free to ask me I might know about it and forgot to add it or you’ll be introducing me to something new :) I’ll also try and keep the list updated

Note #2: I’m ok with writing for celebrities or vtubers as long as we’re respectful about it ok that means you understand that everything here is complete fiction and you understand their boundaries and if they dont feel comfortable with works about them those posts will be taken down

Marvel (Movies)

Harry potter (Movies)

The Maze Runner (Movies)

Motherland Fort Salem (Series)

Siren (Series)

The Owl House (Series)

Arcane (series)

The dragon Prince (series)

Avatar the last air bender (series)

Legends of korra (series)

The magicians (series)

My Hero Academia (Anime)

Sword Art Online (Anime)

Oshi No Ko (Anime)

Takt Op Destiny (Anime)

The Disastrous Life of Saki K (Anime)

Revue Starlight (Anime)

Blue Reflection (anime)

RWBY (anime)

Classroom of the Elite (anime)

The Apothecary Diaries (anime)

Revue Starlight: ReLIVE (game)

Bang Dream (game)

D4DJ (game)

Fire Emblem: Awakening-Engage (Game)

Persona 5 (Game)

Tales of Arise (game)

Our Life forever and always (game)

Mystic Messenger (game)

Obey Me (game)

Twisted Wonderland (game)

Honkai Impact (game)

Honkai Star Rail (game)

Genshin Impact (game)

Tears of Themis (game)

Zenless Zone Zero (game)

Punishing Gray Raven (game)

Aether Gazer (game)

Project Sekai (game)

Takt Op Symphony (game)

Blue Reflection series (game)

Tokyo Mirage Sessions #FE (game)

Danganronpa TTH-2GD (game)

Master Detective Archives: Raincode (game)

Rune Factory 5 (game)

Hyperdimension Neptunia (game)

Atelier Sophie (game)

Baldur’s Gate 3 (game)

Love and Deep Space (game)

Nijisanji EN (vtubers) (Hiatus)

Hololive EN (vtubers)

Holostars EN (vtubers)

Avallum EN (vtubers)

(More to be added later)

Masterlist

#multifandom fanfiction #multifandom x reader #multifandom imagines #multifandom #multi fandom blog #multifandom account #multi fandoms posts #multifandom writer #headcanons #matchups #oneshots #original content

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shmaptainwrites · 2 months

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Hey, so I totally understand if you don't feel comfortable answering this. I was just curious if you had any like tips for writing? I'm new to writing, especially about Wilson, and I LOVED your stories and blurbs and etc. I'm just having trouble like getting out there and getting my own ideas written as well as certain requests. Anyways again, it's totally ok if you don't have an answer! Great work, btw!

oh my goodness nonnie i’m so honoured you came to ask me about this and i’d love to share a bit about my process with you!

first i wanna put a little disclaimer: this is just my process and not necessarily some tried and tested thing, it’s just what works for me, and if it doesn’t work for you that’s okay! sometimes you’ll find things that don’t work for you before the stuff that does

so usually most of the stuff i write starts with a small concept or idea, and from there depending on how much motivation/inspiration i have i go one of two ways. if i have a lot of motivation and inspiration i often just go in head first and write without an outline and just get everything out into a document while the creative juices are still flowing.

if i’m feeling like i enjoy an idea but am a little stuck on the progression of things in my head, or i have motivation but a LOT of ideas i want to include, i’ll make an outline to help guide me, this is just really rough bullet points, sometimes interspersed with small pieces of dialogue i want to include for certain scenes

i think getting a feel for what type of things you enjoy is pretty key, but that just comes with practice which is also how you can improve your writing skills (along with reading! my english teacher always used to say a good writer is also a good reader)

i’ve done a lot of fandom hopping since i was a teen and so not being hard on myself when inspiration begins to fade for one thing or move to another helps me always come back to writing even after hiatuses that can last years (i never force myself to write if really not feeling it, because then it’s not enjoyable anymore and this should be a fun experience!)

in terms of characterization, sometimes having a beta reader who is familiar with the fandom is helpful because then they can tell you if they’re struggling to hear something in the character’s voice or think they may respond to a situation differently than you had described

i think all writers have certain preferences for certain parts of stories, for example, i know some people who much prefer dialogue to description or vice versa, now sometimes when you’re stuck there’s ways to get around doing one or the other, but really you can do whatever you want as long as the flow of your story is good. also on this topic, if you’re really feeling drawn to writing a particular scene that’s not linearly next in your storyline, do it anyways! there’s no rules that say you have to write your story linearly, if jumping around from scene to scene works for you then go for it

okay i think this is probably a lot and i can’t really think of anything else that would be helpful at the moment, but i hope this helps on your writing journey and please feel free to continue to reach out and update me on how things are going!

edit: i forgot to mention, also don’t feel obligated to take requests if they don’t work for you! i honestly almost always have my requests closed and when i open them it’s for short periods of time and for blurbs which i find more manageable:)

#mimi answers #long post #writing #writing advice #writing asks

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creepling · 9 months

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Do you have any writing tips for newer writers? I love how well-written and immersive all of your work is and I would love to know some of your tips/tricks!

oh idk but i'll try the best i can!! it works differently for each writer but this is some things i think benefit me when i write:

thesaurus' and dictionaries are your best friend!! it's like having a calculator for maths, it helps you so much with finding the right word. or if you're repeating a word too much, you can find another that is similar. there are plenty of resources online and they're pretty up to date nowadays.

read read read. i've noticed reading impacts my writing a lot. this doesn't necessarily mean you have to read 24/7 or read specific things. if you read fanfic, you're already on the path for training your brain to like certain styles and pick up on things like pacing, style, etc that work good in fanfiction.

refer to headcanons. i like to view headcanons as a synopsis for what i like to explore in writing. having headcanons written down or in your head can act as inspiration and an idea. if you can flesh it out, go for it!

also, write all your ideas down. the amount of amazing ideas ive had that have never came to writing bc i forgot to write it as a reminder. notes app is helpful for those awkward moments u get an idea, but don't be hesitant, write that shit down!! it could be a masterpiece.

as for writing itself and making it engaging, honestly idk the overall answer. practice some drabbles and blurbs and find out what you specifically like to write. is it the descriptions of characters or scenario? is it action? train of thought? most writers have that one thing they love to write and others are a pain in the arse.

of course all those aspects are important, but if they become a bit of a slob to write don't waste your time on it. keep it short and sweet, get to the point, then spend your time writing the ascepts that make your work shine.

when you start writing, you might think it's shit. you will be your most harshest critic. it's okay to abandon works and move on, but never delete them!! keep all your progress in case you want to go back to it.

depending on what i'm writing for, my use of language tends to adapt with the source material. i don't do it on purpose, it just feels natural. and it benefits your work in being viewed as "authentic".

for example, since i've been writing for johnny, i've noticed my writing using language similar to how southerners speak, or similar to language conveyed in american literature. so if you wanna make your writing immsersive, that's a good technique to have. but don't get hung up on it too much, writing in your voice is just as important!! make yourself heard<33

immsersiveness can get tricky when talking in second person ("you") since it is a generalisation of the audience. try to stear the depths into the canon and have the reader be the witness of it, like they're stepping into the story.

one last point, proofread!! i use grammarly for rough drafts then i keep rereading and rephrasing until my head explodes. it's the worst part about writing, but it has to be done. you'll be itching to post it for people read it, but make sure everything is correct and you're conveying what you're wanting to say so that comes across to the reader. thankfully the fanfic community have betas, so if you're comfortable having a moot read it for pointers, that's a handy thing to have<33

happy writing, anon<33

#asks #anon

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bookaddict24-7 · 2 years

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REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!

Books I’ve read so far in 2022!

Friend me on Goodreads here to follow my more up to date reading journey for the year!

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181. Wedding Crasher by Mia Sosa--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I really, really enjoyed this one more than the first book! I think the characters were more entertaining and the situations were funnier. This was also full of spice and sexual tension. So. Much. Tension. Every time something happened, I had to fan myself. Much like the first book, I loved the representation of the Brazilian culture. One of my favourite thing about this book, too, was how the familial relationships added more heart to the story. I did notice, however, this one thing that I heard about not too long ago. How books with different cultures sometimes write about their food, or in their language and then immediately explain it for their white readers. It made me giggle when it happened in this book--it didn't happen often, but it happened a few times, especially when certain cultural foods were mentioned. This wasn't a life altering read, but it was fun and sexy and had an attention grabbing first couple of chapters. I think this will be a great summer read and I don't think you have to read this series in order to fully enjoy this one! I can't wait to see what the author writes next!

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182. Elevator Pitch by Linwood Barclay--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I won't lie, at first I was incredibly skeptical of this book--especially because I wasn't fully hooked at first. But one thing I forgot about this author was how dark some of his books can get. There were scenes where I genuinely had to pause it and be like "JFC, wtf, the description of that death." Barclay held back zero punches as he went into full detail about the elevator "accidents". And don't get me started on how he makes you think you know what's going to happen next, only to be surprised by a twist. While at first it was a little overwhelming how many characters there were and I had no idea how they would all tie up together at the end, I slowly started to fall into the story. Each chapter rose a level in anticipation and more and more revelations were given as we steadily arrived at a twist I admittedly didn't see coming. Nicely done on those red herrings, Barclay. I should have learned from A NOISE DOWNSTAIRS, which was a wild ride of twists and turns. I do wish there was a slightly better conclusion to one of the situations in the story, but I loved that said situation created a commentary on American news media. There's a quote that had me snorting: "Nearly every TV channel [...] was featuring nonstop talking heads offering plenty of opinions based on almost no information whatsoever. In that sense, it was pretty much like any other day" (Barclay 279). I ended up really enjoying this by the end. The tragedies of past actions created a thrilling base for this thriller and now I need to read another book by this author!

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183. Ghost Boys by Jewell Parker Rhodes--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I read one of this author's books a couple of years ago and I've been meaning to pick up another one of her books since. I'm really glad I finally picked this one up. It is a heartbreaking, but timely reminder of what North America looks like right now. Being a person who isn't white, but was never taught the rules of how to act around police, I have always found it incredibly hard to hear about how Black children need to be taught how to act so that they're not arrested or worse, murdered by the police. The fact that this is a story from the perspective of a murdered Black child makes it even more heartbreaking because his case is used as a reminder of the mistreatment and continuous racial crimes against the Black community. What I found the most interesting, however, is how Rhodes still strives to share the message of how we need to practice compassion in the face of adversity. We need to teach in place of condemning in certain situations. Anger is justified, but if nothing is taught then nothing is learned. I highly recommend this book, but be prepared for the blunt language and the allusion to more murdered Black children. This was a difficult read full of grief, injustice, and racism.

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184. Razorblade Tears by S.A. Cosby--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Please, before you read this book, look up the trigger warnings. This book is ROUGH and could be too much for certain readers. The first thought that came to mind when I started this book (other than the obvious topics explored later in this review) was that this felt like the movie TAKEN. This was a lot more action-filled than I expected and I still don't know if I really enjoyed this aspect or if I felt that it made the story drag a little. I think this book, with all of the racist and homophobic rhetoric, was an incredibly powerful and important read. Yes, it will break your heart as these two fathers try to find the answers to why their sons (who were two gay married men--one man was black and the other was white) were murdered and who murdered them. But I think the most important part of this book was the conversation that happened around two fathers who were homophobic and unaccepting of their sons being gay. It also tackles the ideas of how race plays a role in the topic of being gay and the comparison of Black hardship vs. gay hardship. It was all incredibly eye-opening and also rage-inducing. Especially when one of the fathers would act completely confident in their assumptions based on a bigoted perspective. The twist wasn't overly surprising, but it definitely held a punch. I think this book would translate really well into a movie. It felt very cinematic in certain areas. I would also just like to see the character growth of these two grieving fathers come to life on the screen. I'd recommend this book to anyone who wants a fast-paced story that explores the complicated relationship between fathers and sons and the pre-conceived notion of what a "man" should be. Also, anyone looking for a gritty revenge story started by grief and ended by the acceptance that love is love and it doesn't change the love we have for the important people in our lives.

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185. A Natural History of Dragons by Marie Brennan--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This book was a lot cheekier than I was expecting. To be honest, I have no idea what I was expecting. I had this book on my bookshelf for years and I was just glad to finally get to it. I loved reading a story where the dragon wasn't some creature that became the pet of the MC. I enjoyed that this was a story that read as if dragons were real. Like I could pack a suitcase and go find dragons in another country. I'll definitely be picking up the sequel because I'm curious to see where the MC goes after that conclusion and twist! Check this one out if you love Victorian-era-like fantasy with a dragon twist and a woman who refuses to be put into the mould of what society expects of women.

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186. Finding Me by Viola Davis--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I am so intimidated by the fact that I have to write this review because I adored this book so much. I knew I was going to enjoy it, but I never anticipated that it would be to this level. Viola Davis is an incredible woman. I will admit that I only knew of her in passing since television and I have a fickle relationship. I knew that she was an important Black woman in Hollywood because of the roles she's played and the roads she's helped carve for other actresses, but I never anticipated her history to be so incredibly fraught with hardship and trauma--which I admit was incredibly privileged of me. The fact that Davis experienced so much at a young age makes her successful life so much more incredible. It doesn't erase or excuse her experiences, but it makes her seem so much more inspiring to me, as an outsider. Her recollections of her traumatic childhood and young adult years sprinkled with sexual abuse, physical abuse that her father inflicted on her mother daily, poverty, racism, bullying, and depression were incredibly heartbreaking. Davis also comments during these recollections of how Black poverty might look and how it affected not just her, but her sisters and family as a whole. The more I read biographies and autobiographies, the more it has helped me in understanding how others live and how they have faced their obstacles. Davis is an inspiring Black woman who didn't shy away from the shadows in her past and how they helped make her the person she is now. She shows a level of compassion, understanding, and forgiveness for those who hurt her that I don't know if I could ever have. Davis begins FINDING ME by introducing the young girl she was many years before when she was being bullied and chased by racist kids. I loved how she used that memory to bring the story of her life around to the moment she accepts that little girl she once was. In a way, this book felt like both a recollection, but also like something that might have been healing for Davis to write. While I read FINDING ME, I also felt like I was someone sitting across from Davis listening to her confiding all of these things to me. The book read so smoothly that I never wanted it to end. Davis went from one moment in her life to another by connecting important moments that eventually led to who she is today. I couldn't get enough--even if some personal anecdotes were more jarring than anticipated. I listened to the audiobook and I suspect that definitely helped it making me feel like we were having a chat because she narrated the book herself. I can't recommend this book enough. It's such an important book. Davis not only talk about her past and struggles, but she also comments on the importance of hard work and luck in an industry as fickle as hers. She offers the dark reality of Black poverty and how so many teachers and students never asked if she and her sisters were OK because they didn't care enough to inquire beyond the surface and aesthetic level of their lives. I'm really glad I read this book and I will definitely look at her with a better understanding of who she is and how she got where she is now.

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Have you read any of these? Would you recommend them?

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Happy reading!

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harleyacoincidence · 9 days

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Tell me more about Tales of the Unfortunate Summoner 🔪

Welcome to my inbox! Thank you so much for the ask!

(I had an entire detailed outline and description here, but I forgot to save it as a draft, so I'm writing the entire thing again. My apologies for taking so long on this.)

So, this WIP is one I've had for a while. I can't remember if I started it in high school or one of the years after, but OH BOY, it is old. This story, due to its age, has multiple flaws and I often find myself putting it down for extended lengths of time, simply because I cannot figure out how to continue it. Even after looking at its current state and the original outline (which I kept and found again, somehow), I am left extremely confused about where to take it and how to go about doing so.

My goal with it is to fully complete the work as it is without heavy editing. From there, I will modernize it, possibly rename the instalments, and overall bring it up to current standard. The only roadblock I am currently facing is how to go about doing so from my current point in the work. While I'm not exactly impressed with my younger self over this, everyone has to start somewhere, and at the very least it's proof that I have improved.

Anyway, there are three instalments to the series, with the first two being short stories and the third being a novel-length edition. I'll simply refer to them as Tale #1, Tale #2, and Tale #3 respectively, due to the eventual renaming process. This is the WIP where I came up with the whole basic plot line of "idiot does idiot thing and stuff goes down because of it".

There are a few protagonists in this series, so here's a bit about each of them.

Henriette: Wow, look, it's the idiot in question! She's not exactly stupid, but somewhat naive. She also happens to have a passion for demon summoning, so there's that too. Why does she do it? Her cousin, Zara, who likes practicing "witchcraft" encouraged her to do so, sure that she wouldn't be able to actually summon a demon. Boy, she was wrong. Dumbfounded, Zara asked her to summon another at a later date, which she once again as able to do. This does not lead to good things. Zara becomes incredibly jealous, ruining her relationship with Henriette. Henriette then has to figure out how to deal with demons and keep them from possessing her 24/7, as well as taking a toll on her health and the well-being of those around her. This works about as well as you would expect, especially with her summoning increasingly more powerful demons.

Anyway, her parents are extremely busy due to their work lives, so they don't always have the time to take care of her. How convenient for Henriette's unofficial demon uncle who enjoys murder in his spare time! The two of them are pretty much inseparable, especially due to the fact that Henriette is pretty much oblivious to how demons get power and stay in power...

Elliot: The resident nerd and best friend of Henriette's ex-boyfriend has arrived! This dude has been through a lot. He's seen the results of the murders of several of his classmates, including his best friend, John, only to find out that it was his ex-girlfriend who committed them (while possessed, of course, but the damage is still done and only made worse). He is one of the 2 people to survive an encounter with Hadeon. He only managed to get away thanks to his oversharing, which is a reaction to being scared out of his mind.

While Elliot is only present for the second instalment, his portion is essential to the overall narrative, as he is the only one to figure out (alone) that Hadeon can and will possess Henriette in order to further his plans. While he hasn't told anyone just yet, he can if he deems it necessary to ensure the safety of others. As of now, however, Hadeon doesn't think he has the guts to do it. He's only half wrong.

Alyssa: Here's the poor girl that got tangled up in this whole mess during the novel (Tale #3)! She and Henriette share the role of protagonist in this instalment. However, with Henriette being (spoiler alert) kidnapped for most of the book, she can get her time in the spotlight, along with Henriette's bestie, Selene. There unfortunately isn't much to say about her right now, as I'm not finished the work she is present in. However, what I can say about her is that she's brand new to the secondary school the rest of the gang (aside from Hadeon) go to, and has already made friends. One would think that this would mean the start to a wonderful year, but Hadeon and some other demons had different ideas.

Hadeon: While not technically a protagonist, he is a vital character to this series. He is the last demon that Henriette has summoned on purpose (those are the key words here). He's been hanging out in her headspace for about three years. While he's technically become her therapist/substitute uncle, the two of them are undeniably best friends. She provides him a safe hideout (her brain) when he's not going out to run errands (commit various crimes), and he keeps her safe in other manners.

Oh yeah, about that demon hierarchy system. Demons get their power based on hosts or souls (usually people killed, unless someone gives up their soul in a deal). The more power they have, the higher their rank. However, each demon is strengthened upon returning to Hell after a kill or two, and they tend to "go soft" without such visits. This phenomenon is often referred to as such by demons who notice their kind developing more "human" characteristics such as increased empathy and attachment to specific humans or other creatures. Hadeon has not returned to Hell for three years. More on the demonic hierarchy later.

There are exactly two antagonists in this series, one of which we just talked about (Hadeon is a problem for everybody). Here's the other:

Blaise: Make way for the former Shakespeare demon! This unfortunate fellow was originally one of the lowest ranking demons, but knows a thing or two about the value of human hosts. As for his strange mannerisms and strategies, that can be chocked up to him being a fairly new demon. He doesn't exactly know what he's doing, but he wants people to think he does. While he's not as strong as another demon listed above, he should be taken seriously.

So, yeah, that's about everything. It's a little messy, and 90% of it was written by high school me, so snippets are going to read weird, but it is what it is. Thanks so much for asking!

#tales of the unfortunate summoner

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villa-kulla · 1 year

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For the DVD commentary, how about the last two scenes from "In Cold Type" and/or the make up scene in chapter three of "Waveson" where Goody and Billy talk after Goody's chat with Magnus?

Thanks for the ask! I'll go with Waveson since I think the last two scenes of In Cold Type would basically just be me going "yeah I thought this image would be cute" the whole time, and that's not interesting to anyone 😅

Put a scene from one of my fics in my inbox and I'll do the author's DVD commentary <3

before starting, I still feel like I never got this fic completely right. It is what it is, but there was always something missing. And looking back, I think that was more Billy POV. I was very determined to keep a kind of 'here and now' vibe for the fic, without branching too too much into either character's backstory. I wanted it to be more atmospheric than plotty. But I think there was a way I could have ~artistically~ worked in some more Billy-backstory/POV. So anyways, I was never completely satisfied with this fic, but rereading some of it now I was like "oh it's not that bad I guess" lol so thanks for the reminder:P

Goodnight got to his feet and walked down the beach, balancing on the slippery rocks as he walked out into the cove. He reached the spot where he’d seen a reflection, and there, sure enough, caught in a hollow beneath a large rock, something was glinting.

Goodnight crouched down, taking a firm grip of the rock, and dragged it to the side with a scraping sound. He gazed down into the hollow and felt his heart begin to pound.

He knew that colour. That leathery silver sheen was one he’d seen dipping and darting through this cove like an arrow, fast and sleek. The hide had been folded up and placed in this indent in the rocks, motionless, and yet it still seemed to swim before Goodnight’s eyes. It fairly shone with some internal kind of life, almost weightless, thick as leather yet supple as silk. No ordinary animal could have this kind of skin. It practically pulsed with magic.

Just wanted to start with the bit when Goodnight finds the skin, because I liked writing it <3 Any excuse to do pretty descriptions of things in nature lol. But yeah the first time I'd have read stories with selkies would have been Island of the Aunts by Eva Ibbotson. Loved her children's books when I was young, and I love her books for adults now, I think she's a wonderful writer. Anyway she's sometimes incorporated selkie-lore into her books and I thought it was enCHANting <3

Can’t imagine why anyone would want it . Goodnight’s words came floating back to him, and he felt sick at the unthinkingness of his petty barb. God knew how many people would have killed, looted, plundered to get their hands on such a treasure, possibly already had. Goodnight’s retort had been thoughtlessly obtuse at best. But at worst…he knew now he was looking at a piece of Billy’s soul. And he was pierced by regret that he could ever have spoken so carelessly about something Billy held so close.

Think I internalized a bit of Philip Pullman here, with the Golden Compass concept of souls. Humans have their dameons ie animal manifestations of their souls, but for the armoured bears, their armour is like their soul. Think I was imagining that for selkies and their skin

Goodnight sat back on his heels in a daze. He remembered innocently asking Billy all those months ago where his skin was if he was the selkie he claimed to be. Billy had closed the discussion with a snap. And all this time it had been right out in the cove, where they went every day, tucked away out of sight.

Goodnight was resolved. Every time he’d thought about wanting Billy to stay he couldn’t help likening himself to that oaf in the poem, taking what wasn’t his. But Goodnight knew in his heart of hearts that he wasn’t that kind of man. Seeing Billy’s skin now, the skin Billy guarded so carefully, Goodnight’s only instinct was to protect it.

I....forgot I wrote a whole-ass poem for this fic??? Lmao shows you how long it's been since I've re-read this one. Yay for "The Selkie of Skelmorlie" my cautionary selkie poem. But yeah last time I'd have written a rhyming poem must have been high school, but always found it fun. Traditionally rhyming poems are very underrated imo! But god I remember just combing through a google map of Scotland trying to find a coastal town with a name that both had a nice ring to it, ideally alliterative, and was possible to rhyme with lmao.

He carefully dragged the rock back where it had been, using a nearby seashell to gently scrape the folds of the skin back into place, hiding it completely. He didn’t even want to touch it. Remembering the way Billy’s voice had shook when talking about people’s hands…he wouldn’t have touched the skin for all the money in the world.

Mini shout-out to using the seashell. I have nothing to say about it other than that I liked the image.

He got to his feet feeling a rush of contentment and certainty wash over him. It was the calm a person felt when they looked deep within themselves and could discover they were still the person they thought they were.

^ Me being hashtag profound. I think sometimes making 'universal observations' in writing is tricky because it sounds so much like you're trying to make a universal observation lol. But I'm oka with how this one works in context.

And – he realized with a jolt of anticipation – if Billy’s skin was still here, it meant Billy was somewhere around here too. He walked back down the beach, climbing onto the dock and sat down. He would wait.

It didn’t take long. He had only been watching the tide come in for ten or so minutes when he heard a scrape behind him.

sorry lmao just one thing about the tides in this fic.....I full-on gave up on having the tides follow the laws of physics. It was high tide when I wanted it to be high tide, and low tide when I wanted it to be low tide. Such authenticity!!

“Billy?” he asked, scrambling to his feet, and turning around. And there stood Billy, whole and human, standing on the dock before him. He was looking at Goodnight, face unreadable, hair wafting slightly in the cold night breeze, but the rest of him utterly still.

“Billy,” Goodnight breathed, like every solid dread and regret inside of him had up and floated through his pores, disappearing into the night. And without thinking about it he was stepping determinedly forward and throwing his arms around Billy in a tight, hard hug.

Billy froze and Goodnight just continued to hug him almost desperately, like he was trying to prove to himself that Billy was really there. He felt arms circle tentatively around his waist, like Billy wasn’t sure if it was happening, if he was allowed. And when Goodnight didn’t throw him off, it was like every muscle in Billy’s body seemed to melt as he folded his arms tight around Goodnight in a rush, pulling him in close, holding him hard enough to hurt, head buried in Goodnight’s neck, breathing him in.

I find hugs so underrated in fics. Also there's nothing like a reunion hug! It beats a reunion kiss imo, but even better if you can turn it into a kiss.

“I’m sorry, Billy,” Goodnight said into Billy’s shoulder, his fingers digging into the cloth of Billy’s sweater. His own sweater, he realized with a pang.

^ Screech. Should have done more about how much selkie!Billy liked wearing Goodnight's sweater.

Billy tightened his arms even more around Goodnight.

“Me too,” he practically whispered, and lifted a hand to cup Goodnight’s head.

They stood that way for a long time on the dock, arms wrapped around each other, swaying slightly under the sky. And when they finally slowly parted it was with a warm slide of arms, still staying close even as they stepped away.

Billy was looking down at the dock, his hands still brushing over Goodnight’s.

“Hi,” Goodnight offered with a tentative smile.

“Hi,” Billy said, a small smile in response, looking back up. He rubbed Goodnight’s wrists and Goodnight’s heart flared.

“That was a stupid thing I said earlier,” Goodnight said, shaking his head, a pang of regret washing over him anew.

“I said some stupid things to you too,” Billy said eyeing Goodnight hesitantly.

Goodnight just shook his head again and shrugged. “You had a better reason to.”

So this was when Billy was telling Goodnight "How do I know you're not going to try to take my skin too?" And he never really believed it but at the same time maybe he did really wonder, because he absolutely was testing Goody there. And I mean who could blame him. On the note of testing, I'm still not fully decided on whether or not Billy himself moved the rock himself to make his skin more visible, to see what Goody would do. We know he was watching him put it back, but part of me always wondered if maybe Billy staged that scene a little to test Goody further. I mostly lean towards not, I think he was just coming back and stopped when he saw the scene playing out. But maybe he subconsciously didn't properly replace the rock to see what would happen? You never know! <- she said about her own fic lmao

Billy bit his lip and shook his head, squeezing Goodnight’s hand. And then to Goodnight’s surprise he made as though to sit on the dock, tugging Goodnight’s hand gently for him to join.

They sat side by side looking out at the dark water, the horizon almost invisible against the night sky, but Billy’s hand a sure thing over Goodnight’s.

“I never meant...I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you,” Billy finally said quietly, the words seeming to struggle their way into the air. "I don't really know how to do...any of this."

“Billy, it’s okay –”

“No it’s not,” Billy said, hand tightening over Goodnight’s. He turned to look at him earnestly. “I never meant to…to string you along. I'm sorry I did. I just…”

Goodnight raised his eyebrows, but didn’t want to interrupt him again, just waited.

“I thought I’d gone too far,” Billy admitted, the barest pink tingeing his cheeks under the moonlight. “When I kissed you. I...I didn’t want to stop. But there are stories about selkies - male selkies - who come ashore and try to seduce humans. Take advantage of them. I didn’t want you to feel pressured by anything so...so I was waiting for you to say something about it first.”

A bubble of irony rose up through Goodnight, and he practically could have laughed out loud in disbelief. To think his own trepidations had been mirrored the whole time by Billy. He'd never heard stories about the human-selkie advantage going the other way: only the ones where humans were the possessive ones. And he'd been so caught up in his own dread that he'd been projecting his own insecurities about the situation onto Billy. And meanwhile Billy had been harbouring his own set of anxieties for the same reason. They might have been tangling themselves up in different knots, but it was all still the same net.

There are just so many ~problematic~ elements to selkie stories lmao. I didn't feel there was any way to NOT address the issues of consent surrounding selkie stories, but yeah I liked the idea that the question could have gone both ways for them. Also "it was all the same net" metaphor with ocean-vocab sighting! You could basically play ocean-reference BINGO for this whole and win every other paragraph

“Oh, Billy,” he said, letting out a quiet huff of laughter. “We’ve been a pair.”

Billy looked at him curiously and Goodnight cracked a smile.

“I’d read some story about a human stealing a selkie skin,” he said, waving his hand carelessly like the story hadn’t filled him with dread right down to his to his bones. “And I kept thinking that...it was what you were thinking I’d do and -”

“I didn’t mean that, Goody -” came Billy’s pained interruption.

“I just didn’t think it was my place,” Goodnight finished in a rush, not untruthfully. He hesitated. “To bring it up, that is. You seemed to want to forget it, and...I didn’t want you to think the same thing would happen to you again…”

Billy was looking at him uncomprehendingly.

“Again?”

“With someone on land,” Goodnight said awkwardly, not sure how to broach the subject Billy had spat out at him earlier, “With your skin. I...I just assumed.”

“Oh,” Billy said, forehead smoothing out somewhat, but a troubled expression quickly taking over his face. “It wasn’t...like that. It was a couple of travellers who found it. Back where I’m from. I was...careless, and they realized what I was. They caught me for my skin. A keepsake. But it wasn’t me they wanted.”

Billy let out a long breath while Goodnight stared at him.

“They took it back with them across the ocean. And it took a long time to track it down again, over ocean and land. It changed hands a lot, people selling it. A curiosity.”

In my mind, Billy in this fic maybe had quite a similar backstory to the Billy we know in canon (or at least my idea of the Billy we know in canon). But I think Billy in this fic was a human during the Old West, tracking down his skin through the desert, living an assassin-esque life, just trying to get his agency back.

“Billy…” Goodnight couldn’t help breathing, heart clenching in sympathy. Billy just bit his lip and shook his head.

“I could hear my skin calling, that’s how I knew where to find it. But it wasn’t easy getting there. The only thing that kept me going was thinking how good it would feel to kill the person who had it once I got it back, see how they felt when someone took a part of them. But when I finally saw the last person it had ended up with…well they really had no idea what it was, what it meant. So I just scared them instead, and took back my skin. I wanted to put it on right then and there, but I was still in the desert. So I went back to the sea, and…you know the rest. Stayed there until I met you.”

I forget my reasoning for Billy keeping the last person with the skin alive. I don't think it was to make him more sympathetic, murderous backstories aren't the kind of thing I shy away from lol. Reading this now, it almost feels like it would have been spicier had Billy killed them. I guess having him not kill the person was to reinforce the idea that knowing what the skin is and taking it on purpose is the biggest sin in this universe. But anyways back into the sea he went, doing what Goody was doing in this fic aka hiding out.

Goodnight’s mind was reeling, partly that Billy had shared this with him, and partly in sympathy for what sounded like a journey with little warmth to be had it in.

“I’m sorry,” Goodnight said in a low voice.

Billy shook his head.

“It was a long time ago. Another life.”

Goodnight squeezed Billy’s hand hard, letting him know he was there as they sat on the dock a while longer in silence.

“But no one…no one was forcing you to stay on land?” Goodnight finally asked quietly, because he had to be sure. “No one was making you stay with them?”

Billy looked at him in surprise, and then awareness dawned on his face, like he suddenly understood, really understood what lay at the centre of all Goodnight’s hesitations. A soft smile spread across his lips and he reached out to trace Goodnight’s face, making Goodnight shiver where he sat.

“No,” he said. “Nothing like that.”

Goodnight hesitated, not sure how much he should say, and he leaned in closer to Billy.

“Billy…you have to know…I’d never take your skin.” He looked imploringly at Billy, knowing it to be true in his bones, and willing Billy to believe it too. “I would never do that.”

To his mild surprise, the small smile on Billy’s face spread into an expression that was nothing but warmth.

“I know,” he said, his face lit by some deep glow of certainty that fairly stole Goodnight’s breath. “I know.”

'CAUSE HE SAW <3

They continued to sit on the dock in silence, still pressed close. Every time a coarse cloud cleared over the moon, the water around them glimmered with silver ribbons lining the dark cloak of the ocean, before the next cloud took over again.

@ me yeah yeah you like describing scenery WE GET IT. Also 'cloak of the ocean' must have been an intentional selkie skin comparison lol

“I thought you’d left,” Goodnight admitted after a while, voice hoarse, heart picking up at the mere memory of coming home to the empty house.

Billy pulled back and tilted his head as he regarded Goodnight, eyes searching.

“Do you want me to stay?” he asked.

Goodnight opened his mouth, still unsure, even now, as to whether it was something he was even allowed to ask at all. But he looked at Billy’s face and decided to trust what he saw there.

“I do want you to stay,” he confessed. “But I can’t ask that of you.”

The small smile on Billy’s face turned up more in understanding, and he lifted his hands again to cup Goodnight’s face.

“Ask me,” he said quietly. And his voice was soft but it might as well have been a command for helpless Goodnight was to resist it. That smile was still rippling over the line of Billy’s mouth, pulling up all of Goodnight’s hopes too in one breathless, heart-pounding ascent.

"rippling over the lines of Billy's mouth" like waves...ocean vocab metaphor sighting! Also there's something almost vampiric about the whole ceremony of asking the magical being to stay. Not that there's meant to be any magic where you hAVE to ask the selkie to stay if it's ~true love~...it's just the polite thing to do lol, but yeah I'd hoped it would feel a little 'ceremonial'

“Would you stay with me?” Goodnight whispered, gazing into Billy’s dark eyes which melted into an expression of pure light and relief. And Goodnight realized that the one thing he felt he couldn’t ask of Billy was the one thing Billy had been waiting and hoping to hear from him all along.

awww how romantic. Except how well did I really write Billy's longing this whole fic? I'd have to go reread to check lol, but I feel like I didn't make Billy's side of it clear enough. I've mentioned before that Billy was going through a whole "Little Mermaid" scenario in this fic, falling in love with the man on land, but did it come off??? Idk at a certain point I just wanted the damn fic done lol

Billy nodded, and his smile soft over his lips.

“Yes,” he said simply.

Goodnight could scarcely breathe. He gazed at Billy who ran his thumb across Goodnight’s cheek.

“I think,” Goodnight murmured, looking down to Billy’s lips, then back up at his eyes. “We’ve both been thinking too much about other people’s stories. Not ours.”

Cheesy? Maybe. In a fic based entirely on stories of folklore did it have to be done? MAYBE.

A smile curved at the corner of Billy’s mouth, his eyes still shining, and he leaned in. Goodnight parted his lips, and then Billy was there, brushing and then sealing their lips together, and it was like all of Goodnight let out a breath in one rolling, cresting swell.

OCEAN-METAPHOR VOCAB SIGHTING! And don't get me started on their sex scene lol.

But yeah thanks again for the ask!! I still feel like this fic was never as good as I wanted it to be, but rereading it, it's also better than I thought??? Maybe one day I'll rewrite it lol:P While the first chapter came sooooo fast, the last two took like a year lol, I think I was obsessed with wanting it to be GREAT and also had a feeling it would be the last mag7 fic I'd do (we don't talk about the unfinished Outlaw Lullaby lol it was covid, I think I just wanted to play with a new idea, not write a whole fic, but the fact that it's an unfinished fic haunts me lol). but anyways despite this fic being a slog at times, it was still fun to write when I was actually writing it, not plotting it, because falling in love in a small coastal town? Who can resist, not me <3 But yeah thanks again!

#anon #asks #dvd commentary

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kazewhara · 2 years

Text

“it stings.”

# — pairing: kazuha x gn!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, kazuha, mentioned minor character

# — summary: he's your partner. nobody else's.

# — warnings: mildly suggestive; descriptions of making out, hickies

# — tags: fluff, touch of angst, communication, minor character is stupid, zuzu still wants to make out with kazuha, pretty self-indulgent

# — notes: FINALLY. I FINALLY GOT TO WRITE SOMETHING ABOUT THIS. SHAKING AND CRYING, I FEEL SO MUCH BETTER. reblogs and reactions are appreciated, and i hope you enjoy!

wanna join the (new!) tag list?

✧ — 🍁 — ✧

something’s... off about you.

it's no secret that nature often lends kazuha a hand when observing other people. he can hear the faintest things and pick up on the most minute details with ease -- especially when it comes to you.

for example: shortly after you two first met, after only three rounds during your first sparring match, he knew that you'd injured your wrist a few years back and gave you specific pointers on how to relieve the pain. now, even after going an entire day without seeing you, he somehow knows how you're feeling with no more than a simple glance and knows how to treat you accordingly. kazuha adjusts to things very easily, but he quickly became attuned to you without thinking; the breeze that follows close behind you is one he's familiar with, one he's grown to love deeply.

but for the past couple of days, however, something's been polluting the air you usually carry about with you. it feels like... tension, to say the least.

kazuha isn't too sure if you've realized this yet, but your smiles are thinner and looking a little forced. you're holding him closer at night (he didn't even think it possible, yet here you were) and your shoulders look tight from what he can see. you've also started working your jaw whenever you're quiet. it's not as obvious as he's making it seem, but as someone who trained himself to know all that makes you you, he can spot any oddities from a mile away.

you, on the other hand, are busy wondering why kazuha is so fucking dense.

you didn't think it possible what with how scarily observant he can be at times, but as he chats with some girl aboard the alcor (jiang -- you found out her name against your will), you wonder how he can't see what's right in front of his face.

right now, jiang is giving kazuha the "eyes" -- you would know, because you do it to him as a joke. she's got her head tilted to the side like some curious puppy, and she practically melts every time he smiles. (which is all the time, by the way. this is making you sick.)

you're also standing right next to him as he speaks. you'd think jiang would be more subtle about this.

kazuha turns his head to the side suddenly. he must've heard someone calling his name. "i'll be taking my leave," he tells the two of you. he looks at you and you feel your breath catch. for a second, you damn near forgot why you were so upset. "i'm sorry to leave you alone. beidou seems to need me."

well, fuck.

"it's no problem." you half-lie, mirroring his smile. "go before she gets impatient."

ever the charmer, kazuha takes your hand and brings your fingers to his lips before departing, leaving you with your heart reluctantly racing in your chest. god damn him.

a very uncomfortable silence descends upon you and jiang. you can feel her eyes boring into the side of her head. don't speak to me, you think. don't say a fucking word, don't speak, just stay quiet--

"you're so lucky." jiang sounds so dejected that it makes you look at her. you have to school your expression into an even one -- god forbid you show her just how much you loathe being near her. "he's such a good guy."

at least she knows he's taken. you feel your chest swell with a little bit of pride. "he really is." you have to swallow back the urge to brag.

jiang sighs wistfully. "must be nice..."

it is, you almost say. you bite your tongue. maybe it's best if you leave her to her own devices for now; you should be the bigger person. you say a quick goodbye and head off to find some work to do. the further you are from her, the better.

unfortunately, the universe has other plans.

a question: why is it that when you're trying to avoid someone, you keep seeing them everywhere? because you see jiang everywhere. not only that, you're often tasked with being near her.

like now; you're mapping out some stuff before you send it over to zhiqiong for finalization, and who else but jiang would come by to keep you company? she's helpful, surprisingly, but somehow, kazuha keeps coming up in conversation.

"where did we last see those remnants of osial's wife?" you ask her softly, your eyes fixed on the sheet. you point to a place near the compass in the corner. "was it here?"

jiang hums and points to an area closer to land. "more like here," she says, "i remember someone saying to stay on high alert because of how dangerously close it was to that fishing village."

"right, thanks. now, where did that cargo wash up? near ritou--?"

"kazuha likes fish, doesn't he?" jiang asks. her question takes you off-guard. it must show, because she apologizes, her face flushing. "i'm sorry, that was really off-topic. it's just-- i noticed that he gets a little excited whenever the chefs grill fish, so..."

you keep your expression as even as you possibly can and try to give her the benefit of the doubt. kazuha isn't very subtle with information like that. everyone knows that he likes grilled fish -- it was one of the first and only things people knew about him for a while. "yeah, he's, uh," you shift your eyes back to the map, "very particular about it. it's a hassle sometimes, but if he's happy, he's happy."

jiang nods -- maybe a little too eagerly for your liking. "i see, i see."

"right. so, ritou. did beidou say we lost stuff near the docks?"

"yeah, apparently some tenryou commission defectors or something took some stuff that was supposed to go on the ship and tossed it into the sea."

"dammit," you swear, "there was some valuable wood in those boxes. the tianquan wanted high quality maple wood for some construction just outside the harbor."

"there were reported sightings of some floating boxes..." jiang is quiet as she marks up places where shipment boxes had been spotted. as she does, she asks: "kazuha... wears a lot of maple leaves, doesn't he?"

you say a silent prayer. whether it's for you or her, you're not sure. "he does." your response is clipped.

"did he ever tell you why?"

you have never wanted to not talk about kazuha before. this is new. you don't like it. "something about his family. i don't know all the details." you're lying. annoyed, you add, "and even if i did, it wouldn't be my place to share them."

"oh." jiang murmurs. "i thought he would've told you. i guess i'll ask him sometime later."

"...right. you do that." you take a silent breath. you try to start working again, but--

"would he be in the crow's nest?" jiang doesn't look at you, but you can see her ears flushing and her lips curling into the most smitten smile. "just so i, uh, know where to find him and ask."

you're not sure what possesses you, but you give her the answer she's looking for. you're being the bigger person, you remind yourself. that's all. you're just doing as any good person would do. thankfully, you work the rest of the time in silence.

sure enough though, later that day, kazuha and jiang are nowhere to be found. xu liushi said something about them being in the crow's nest together talking about their hometowns. you don't like the pit that opens up in your stomach.

now, don't misunderstand; you don't feel threatened by jiang. not at all. you're not worried about her taking kazuha from right under your nose. no, no, that's not the problem at all.

the problem is that she keeps using you as kazuha information bank of sorts. all you two end up talking about is him, and when you don't give her a straightforward answer, she just goes and asks him directly. and kazuha, being the absolute sweetheart that he is, just goes with the flow, blissfully unaware of the lovesick fool jiang is making herself out to be.

the worst part about all this is that she knows that kazuha is your lover, yet she acts this way anyways. right in front of you -- both of you! does she think you're stupid? it's infuriating!

kazuha catches you mulling over it one night before bed. he's already laying down, ready to sleep, but you're still sitting up, rubbing at your temples. you've been nursing a headache for about a week.

"is everything okay, dove?" he asks sleepily. you twist to look down at him and see his eyes already half-lidded. "are you not going to sleep?"

you comb your fingers through his hair, which has been freed from its usual ponytail. "i'll sleep soon, love." you murmur, chuckling when he yawns. "you've had a long day, no?"

kazuha hums his assent. "you didn't answer the question. is everything okay?" he looks a little more awake now, the beginnings of a frown forming on his face.

this is why you've been sitting back and taking jiang's shit these days. because at the end of the day, you have kazuha beside you. you lay down and laugh a little when he immediately wraps his arms around you. kazuha buries his face in your shoulder and you keep running your fingers through his hair.

"i'm fine, kazuha. promise." you tell him.

kazuha leaves a butterfly kiss on your skin. "are you absolutely sure?"

how could you not be? you kiss the crown of his head as his breathing slows. "absolutely."

you want to say that all your troubles were over after that, but things come to a head by the next morning. the alcor docks in liyue harbor during a routine visit for the sailors to spend time with their families. comfortable as you may have been last night, you can't seem to stay asleep. you struggle out of kazuha's arms (he's got a firm grip, even in his sleep) and get ready for the day, stepping out the cabin to breathe in the fresh air.

before the people wake, liyue harbor is one of the most peaceful places on the planet. it's nothing but you and the gentle slapping of the waves against the sides of the alcor. you take a deep breath, refreshed, and head off the ship for a walk. when you return with some trinkets from an early rising vendor -- some matching tassles for kazuha's sword and your polearm -- who else would you run into but jiang.

you would have walked past her, but she was standing just a little too close to your cabin, turning something over in her fingers. "uh..." you narrow your eyes at her, suspicion hardening your tone. "do you need something?"

"oh, good morning!" jiang spots you then and she lights up, her face red. it's too early for this. "hi, i'm sorry, i just... well... i wanted to give kazuha something."

you don't bother fixing your expression anymore. "it's too early for that. he's probably still asleep."

jiang deflated. "o-oh... then can you give it to him for me? please?" she holds it out to you. it's a little furin that looks handmade. she must've really put some thought into this. "i figured since he was so far from home while the rest of us were here... i-i thought maybe he'd want something to dull the homesickness..."

under any other circumstances, this would be cute. endearing, even. but this is your last fucking straw. you breathe harshly through your nose, your irritation showing through. "jiang, do me a favor and back up, first of all." you shoo her away from your door. she inches back, but you keep gesturing. "back. up." you seethe.

"is something wrong?" she asks.

"for the love of-- you're in front of my cabin at ass o'clock in the morning trying to give my boyfriend a gift." you put special emphasis on 'my boyfriend'. your voice is low and your anger is palpable. you inhale sharply and give her the fakest smile you've ever given anyone in your life. "hold onto the gift and maybe try giving it to him later."

jiang has the audacity to look shocked. "oh! i-i didn't realize, i--"

"of course you didn't." you scoff. "please leave. now. don't wait out here." you don't even wait for her to respond; you walk inside your cabin and slam the door shut with a groan. only after you shut it do you realize that you may have woken kazuha but thankfully, he's already up.

he's just about ready for the day -- fully dressed, save for his scarf. his eyes were already fixed on the door. you feel your face burn; he definitely heard all of that. "good morning," you mutter. you place the tassels you bought on the dresser.

"did jiang do something wrong?" he asks. straight to the point, no cutting corners -- that's just like him. "you seem so upset."

"she was standing in front of the fucking door waiting for you to wake up." you pinch your nose bridge. you don't think you can handle anymore stupidity today and the day has barely begun. "you tell me if she was doing something wrong."

kazuha frowns. "why would she do something like that?"

he seems genuinely confused, but you can't take it. you snap. "are you serious? you haven't noticed the way she's been looking at you?"

"what?"

"kazuha," you laugh bitterly, "there's no fucking way that someone as observant as you couldn't pick up on her obvious crush on you." when he raises his eyebrows, taken aback, you sigh harshly and sit on the bed. "so you're telling me you had no idea."

"is that why you've been acting so strange these days?" kazuha sits beside you and rests his hands over yours. your hands twitch to move away, but he holds them in his own, keeping you in place. "you've been wound so tight lately, but i couldn't put my finger on why. it was because of jiang this whole time?"

you blink at him. "so... you knew something was wrong but you thought it was just me? you weren't paying attention to her at all this entire time?"

kazuha shakes his head. "if it involves romance," he smooths his thumbs over the backs of your hands, "the only person i ever pay attention to is you."

you... don't know what to say.

kazuha keeps talking. "it sounds to me like you've been upset because jiang has been trying to pursue me despite our being together." the smug bastard has the gall to smirk at you. "were you jealous, dove? is that what this is about?"

you slip your hand out of kazuha's and slap his shoulder, embarrassment burning your cheeks. he's not wrong, not in the slightest, but there's no reason for him to say it out loud. "so what if it is?"

kazuha takes your face in his hands and presses a flurry of kisses on your face despite your complaints. "my little angel-" kiss "was so whiny-" kiss "all this time-" kiss "because they were jealous."

"would you shut up?" you give up your fight and just let him chuckle and keep kissing you. this is the kind of affection you really needed, but not at the cost of your pride. it feels so good to be doted on like this after being so high strung for so long. "and i was not whiny. i was angry. get it right."

kazuha kisses your nose. "yes, yes, whatever you say, dove." when he pulls back, he's all smiles, mirth dancing in his eyes. "why don't you tell me why you were so jealous?"

you frown. "don't make me say it."

"i'd like to hear it."

"kazuha, no." when kazuha gives you a faux wounded look, your heart tugs against your will. he even pouts a little, really trying to sell the act. you sigh, defeated. you put your hands over his and mutter your response into his palm.

kazuha leans in close. your face feels like it's on fire. "what was that, dove? i couldn't hear you. will you say it again for me?"

"i said," you raise your voice and quickly lower it, "because you're mine. and she didn't get it."

to make up for all the teasing, kazuha kisses you sweetly and you can't help but kiss back. he guides you through the kiss slowly, like you two have all the time in the world. kazuha breaks the kiss and pecks your lips once, then twice. "that's all i wanted to hear." he murmurs against your lips. "i'm all yours, dove. no one else's."

cheekily, you ask: "promise?"

kazuha kisses you as an answer. you're like putty in his hands; he speeds up the kiss this time, laughing under his breath when you sigh, frustrated. you tug at his bottom lip gently with your teeth and he inhales sharply; that always stops him in his tracks. you pull back to look at him and see a blush quickly crawling onto his face. "you're cute," you mumble.

the blush creeps onto his face faster. kazuha averts his eyes for a second -- he's flustered. "so you say."

rather than answer, you kiss him again, this time licking at the seam of his lips to deepen it. kazuha gives way immediately, sighing into the kiss. his hands drop to your shoulders and his fingers twitch each time your tongue meets his own. he makes a small noise when you cup his jaw with a hand and pull away. kazuha's eyes are hooded and his brows are drawn, likely with irritation at you having broken the kiss. he's so pretty like this, barely hiding the desperation that glitters in his eyes.

kazuha moves to kiss you again but you move down, kissing a path from his jaw down to his neck. kazuha inhales sharply and brings a hand to your head as you plant warm kisses against his skin. "it's a little--" he pauses to sigh. "a little early for this, isn't it, dove?"

you can barely hear him. there's only one thing on your mind besides the lingering irritation. you start to suck on a spot just beneath his jaw and feel his fingers curl in your hair. "'m not gonna do all that today," you mutter. "just hang in there. can you do that?"

kazuha hums shakily and swallows, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat. you move along his neck and suck until purples and reds bloom against his skin. all that can be heard in the room is the sound of your kisses and kazuha's broken sighs. he hisses when you bite him particularly hard; he tugs at your hair when you laugh.

"must you bite so hard--?" kazuha's words are broken by a small sound when you suck at a particularly sensitive spot.

"i told you," you kiss your way to the other side of his neck to make fresh marks, "just hang in there."

it doesn't take much longer before kazuha has matching marks on both sides of his neck. after soothing your final one with a few kisses, you finally pull back to admire your handiwork. suddenly, you don't feel so irritated anymore. even better, kazuha's breathing is a little heavy and his cheeks are flushed pink. he won't even look you in the eyes.

you can't help it; you laugh. "are you alright, kazuha?"

kazuha glances at you. you must be looking at him some kind of way, because his cheeks darken and he averts his eyes again. his hand comes up to his neck, covering a few of the marks. "it stings." he mutters. he sounds a little upset, but you can see the satisfied glow in his eyes.

"good." you kiss his forehead one more time before getting off the bed and heading to the mirror to fix your hair. behind you, kazuha takes a second before grabbing his scarf and pulling it on. normally you'd be a little upset about that, but when he stands beside you in the mirror to get a better look at the marks you left, you grin while he squints at you. his scarf isn't hiding much from view.

"you're devious." kazuha says. "and what do you suppose i say to anybody who asks what happened?"

you think for a moment before you shrug. kazuha rolls his eyes at you. you head to the door and open it. your boyfriend tugs his scarf up higher and steps outside. "how does breakfast sound?" you ask him as you walk.

kazuha -- whose ears are red you notice -- sighs. "it sounds nice." he sounds resigned. not upset -- he just knows that he's been beat. it's not often that he's on the receiving end of this. he slips his hand into yours as you walk.

and when you walk past jiang, you relish in the way her face falls. she hides the furin behind her back and walks away, and you don't feel an ounce of regret.

✦ yeah... yeah this feels good. feels good as fuck. i feel strong. yeah.

#z scribbles #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader #okay now i need kazuha. rn.#not even joking. i need him in my lap like rn.

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whiskeynwriting · 2 years

Text

MBFD – Chapter Two: Unknown Territory

Dave York x Reader

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Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) masturbation, flashing, descriptions of oral (f receiving), mentions/implications of infidelity, mentions of separation and divorce, domestic arguments, some reader descriptions, Dave is crushing HARD

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A/N: you guys have no idea how excited I am to write the sexy times. IM LOSING MY MIND

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My Best Friend’s Dad Series Masterlist

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It’s been a couple weeks, and to be honest, he’s feeling pretty dumb. How could he let himself get so wrapped up in a girl he’ll likely never even see again? Since Molly’s first game, you’ve been nowhere to be seen. Did he scare you off? Did he make you uncomfortable?

Surely not.

He thinks he read the situation right, and in all honesty, he did. If there’s anything Dave York is for certain, it’s stubborn as all hell. He knows he read you right. And he’d be lying if he said he was actually trying to get you out of his head. He’s returned to your Facebook page every other night since you met. Looking at you was almost better than looking at porn; when he looked at you, he could let his imagination run wild.

Regardless of his inner turmoil, though he continuously denies it, he listens intently when Molly brings you up in conversation. He always listens to her, of course, but his ears tune in extra hard when he hears her speak your name.

“We had re-elections for our team’s captains today.” Molly says, twirling her fork in her spaghetti. “She was voted as our number one pick, but she declined! Can you believe that?”

“Hm,” Dave nods, raising his brows a bit as he stares down at his plate. He doesn’t want to seem too interested.

“Oh wow, why?” Carol asks, appearing much more concerned.

“Yeah, she’s really good.” Alice adds in, staring over at her sister.

“She said she has too much to deal with in other areas of her life. It’s her senior year, plus, she’s got Pom.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.” Carol continues, but Dave remains quiet. “She seems like a busy girl.”

“She really is. I’ve been asking her to hangout for the past couple weeks and she never can.”

Huh, Dave thinks, his heart beating a bit faster. So I didn’t scare her off after all.

“But speaking of hanging out, she’s actually able to tonight! Would that be okay with you guys? We’ll probably just practice out in the yard and do some homework in the den.”

“Sure, honey! You don’t mind, right Dave?”

Dave lifts his head, addressing the woman he’s bound to by law. He plasters a fake smile on his face, his muscles already tensing as he tries to not be so damn excited.

“Of course.” He then turns to his oldest daughter. “Your friends are always welcome here, honey.”

Jesus, the possibility of seeing you again really made him smile. Luckily, no one really notices. He’s just glad you aren’t here for dinner, at least he can eat his meal without being distracted. Maybe he could make up some excuse to be in the yard today. After all, Carol has been complaining about getting the grass cut.

“Did you still want me to mow the lawn today?” he then asks, deciding to move with this decision.

“Oh, no. Not while they’re practicing, Dave. Just do it tomorrow.”

Goddammit. Fine, I’ll find some other way.

Over the past two weeks, Dave’s life has been boring, well, his kind of boring. Family life was calm, which made it pleasant for him to be at home. Work on the other hand, was an entirely different issue. The case he’s on surrounds three main targets, each with at least five separate accomplices. But the case has hit a bit of a plateau, something he isn’t used to, especially not in this field. The slowing of his timeline at work has also kept him in the states, not needing to fly out for any business at the moment.

With so much free time on his hands, he decided to busy himself around the house. He finally got around to painting the garage, organizing the files in his work office, and even began setting aside time to get his room together. While all of his things were inside, he hadn’t necessarily put them in their places yet, such as clothes on hangers, toiletries in the bathroom, and so on. And one day, Carol walked in on him putting away shaving tools in his bathroom.

“Oh,” she said, both quietly and surprised.

Dave glanced up, watching as Carol walked into view. The guest room had an ensuite, making this particular situation less of a hassle for Dave.

“So, you’re really setting yourself up in here, huh?”

He shrugged, looking back down to the drawer that’s been pulled out and resuming his task. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

She sighs, placing her hands on her hips. “Why do you have to make things so difficult?”

Dave’s head raised slowly, turning to offer his expression of pure confusion and annoyance.

“What?”

“You know exactly what. If you would’ve just come talk to me like an adult, we could’ve sorted all of this out before you had to move in here.”

“Carol, this isn’t just my fault. We’ve been over this. We just can’t communicate, not anymore. Me being in here… it’s for the best. For both of us.”

It was still painful, living his life this way. Carol was his high school sweetheart; someone he’d been with for years before he proposed. They created an entire life together, created two kids together, but after a while, I guess they just got… bored. Insecurities arose from their lack of affection, the spark dwindling between them. And if he was honest, there never really was a huge spark between them to begin with. Dave was taught that to be a man worthy of respect, you made a name for yourself. You gained a respectable job, bought a house, got a wife, and had some kids. You made a life for yourself. But after he did all of that, he wasn’t really sure what to do next. Was this really all there was to life?

Dave wants to find more, wants to explore himself further and find out what really makes him happy. He’d been able to get his sleep routine together over these past few weeks, occasionally going into the office just to get out of the house. But sleeping so well meant he got to get up earlier, allowing him to return to a few of the things he loves most. For instance, breakfast. Dave wakes up at five in the morning, early enough to be out of Carol’s way. It gives him ample time to make his meal, enjoy it, and then get ready for the day. He wasn’t sure how much joy it would bring back into his life but was pleasantly surprised to see its effects. He felt so much better throughout the day when he ate breakfast, more fueled and ready to take on what the next few hours had in store. Something that also helped him feel better throughout the day, and something his sleep routine allowed him to do, was return to his workouts. He’d started exercising in the morning again, a small routine with a larger one later in the night. He’s starting to feel stronger again, starting to feel like he’s getting his life back together again.

Returning to his routines reminded him of his military days. Being in the military gave Dave the edge he’d wanted in life, gave him the thrill and excitement he desperately searched for. And he was good at it, too. He thought he’d be a good fit for the army, but once he met a few Marines, he knew that was the branch for him. After he completed boot camp, he felt like nothing could stop him, nothing could ever stand in his way. He was skilled now; he was lethal now.

Most men go home to their wives and children after completing their time in the service, but Dave wanted more. When his first contract was up, he re-signed again, and again. He climbed the ranks quick, eventually landing him a position in the Defense Intelligence Agency. But they didn’t need him as long as he’d expected or hoped, he felt like garbage when they forced him out. And that’s why he continues. The taste for revenge is too sweet.

However, he made sure that his lust for vengeance was kept to his work life, not wanting it to bleed elsewhere. No matter what happened between him and Carol, he didn’t want to make things messy. No one deserved to go through that, especially his family.

A knock on his door rips him out of his thoughts.

“Come in.”

“I’m going to the store, and then to my book club, okay?” Carol says, opening the door but not stepping in.

“Sure.” Dave shrugs, not really caring what she does.

She raises a brow at him as he continues to scroll through his phone. “Okay, well, Molly and her friend are here. They’re in the backyard.”

Dave’s head shoots up, unintentionally planting a seed in Carol’s brain. She raises her brow again.

“Wanted the girls to clean up dinner before she got here.” He quickly says, trying to brush his reaction off.

“Oh, I already had them do it.” she smiles, her hand rising to the door. “I’ll see you guys later tonight.”

When she turns to leave, Dave looks back down, wondering what he’ll do next. In all honesty, he kind of wants to peek out the window to figure out what he’s able to see. But then Carol stops, sighing before turning back around.

“I love you, Dave.”

Once again, his eyes meet hers, having not heard that phrase in months. His heart beats in his chest, more so of nerves than anything else. What should he say? Will this start another fight? Though, after all, he can’t deny that he does love her. He certainly doesn’t love her the way he used to, but he supposes he will always have some form of love for her.

“I love you, too.”

It’s a quiet response, one that puts a timid smile on Carol’s face as she ultimately turns to go. He wonders why she chose now to say those words, but that question floats away when he hears the sound of your voice. Making sure his door is fully closed, he turns, hand reaching for the blinds before moving them aside just barely an inch.

There it is again.

Right in the middle of a handstand, you feel it. That feeling again, like you’re being watched. You bow down from your stance, standing upright and narrowing your eyes as you scan the yard.

“What’s wrong?” Molly asks, doing the same.

“Nothing…” you reply, partially shrugging it off.

When you turn around to face her, now staring at the back of the house, you look up to see one of the window’s blinds pulled to the side. It’s barely noticeable, but for some reason, your eye catches it right away.

What if that’s Dave?

“Did you want to practice anything specific?” you ask her, deciding to shake off the idea altogether.

He’s married. And he’s Molly’s dad! You need to get a hold of yourself.

Molly says your name again, prompting a slight shake of your head as you turn her way.

“Yeah?”

She giggles, stepping over to you with her hands on her hips. “What’s gotten into you today?”

“Nothing, nothing. I’m cool, let’s try the routine again.” You offer, attempting to get your mind off of Molly’s very married dad.

Even though you can’t fully practice your routine, due to it being only the two of you, you make an effort to do so anyway. Molly is a flyer in the sideline routine, and you’re a tumbler with a few positions as a base. And since you’re quite familiar with your own parts, you decide to focus on Molly’s more.

“No. It’s one, two, three, four, arms up, down, clasp, and hold.” You explain, showing her the correct way to pose.

“Oh, sorry,” Molly replies, wiping some sweat off her face as she catches her breath. “I feel like I can’t catch up.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. You’re doing great, especially for your age. Let’s run it again.”

You lay out into some stretches while Molly continues to work, your eyes trained on her every move as you slide down into a side split. And even though you continue to feel those eyes, that slight tingle running up your spine, you refuse to turn around. But Dave’s watching; you know he is. You’d never felt that sensation before until you locked eyes with him at that game.

Inside the house, Dave’s finger hasn’t moved away from the curtain’s side, still holding it open as he peers outside. When he saw you look back, he didn’t flinch, knowing that what he was doing was barely noticeable. With Molly focusing hard on her movements, she’s partially out of view as she makes her way closer to the side of the yard. That leaves you almost center-stage. That feeling of deviance creeps its way back into Dave’s brain, fairly certain you’re unaware of his incredibly focused gaze. But he honestly doesn’t care. He lets himself indulge in the feeling, the filth of it all making it that much more exciting for him. He’s in the privacy of his home, his own room with the door shut, having this view of you all to himself. And honestly, you are the prettiest thing he has ever seen.

When you drop into your side split, still eyeing Molly from across the yard, Dave groans. You’d come over in a pair of skin-tight Nike shorts and a loose tank top that covered only your waist. Beneath it, a sports bra wraps around your chest, hugging you tightly in a way Dave wishes he could. Your attire allows him a small peak of the curves you just barely hide, the softness of your backside slipping out beneath the tight material of your shorts as you stretch. Your long hair cascades down your back, held together in a loose braid that dips toward the grass. He then sees you wiggle your legs, furthering your split and dropping you lower than you already were, if that was even possible. Your skin looks so smooth, so soft, he wonders how you’d feel in his hands, how you’d feel beneath him or above him. And how would you feel on the inside? Would you be wet for him? Tight and warm and swallowing him whole?

In one quick swipe, Dave closes the blinds and turns on his heels. He meets the bed with a hurried plop, fumbling over his belt and zipper. He can’t believe he’s let his imagination go this far, once again. But the truth was that he hadn’t had sex in nearly three months now, probably longer. There were many nights since your first meeting that he took himself in hand to release his nerves. He lays back now, just like those seemingly endless nights, the thickness of him now freed and already leaking from the head. He grunts when he feels his own hand, his head pushing back into the pillow with his eyes firmly shut as the sensation rushes through him. Something he always loved was the feeling of another’s warm walls squeezing around him tight, so he settles for the firmness of his fist, giving himself a few short tugs. Your distant laugh just outside makes him moan, his full lips parting as he lets himself fantasize.

He's gotten pretty good at imagining you by now, thinking over various scenarios more times than he cares to count. You’d be kind and gentle, almost innocent to him. But you’d be just as excited and eager, and based off your snarky look back in the fieldhouse, he thinks you’d be a little bratty, too. And he likes that. He wants to explore you, trace your body with his mouth and tongue, roll his hands over the rises and dips along your form, licking and biting into the muscle you’ve built over the years. Maybe you’d do the same for him.

Outside his head in the reality of life, his heart pounds, small and hurried gasps slipping past his lips as he tugs himself harder, squeezes himself tighter. Dave’s other hand grips the fabric atop his bed, the muscles in his chest flexing as he attempts to keep himself quiet. But when he imagines your legs spread, imagines the taste of your cunt, he all but loses his mind. He thinks about licking into you after you’ve cum, tasting your tang on his tongue and working you higher until you flood his mouth. And that’s exactly what does it, his own orgasm washing through him as he imagines yours doing the same to you. Your face would be beautiful, gasping and panting and whining out his name. He’d let you cling to him, your thighs encasing his face as his jaw works harder, as his tongue works deeper, his eyes rolling back as he imagines your hot cum splashing on his skin. He can feel his own as it cascades down his cock, running over the thick digits encasing himself in a tight fist. And even though his skin becomes covered in his own spend, he continues, running his palm over his cock until his hips shudder from overstimulation.

“Dad?”

“Fuck.” He quietly grunts, his body jolting upright with shock.

He’s glad he was at least able to ride his orgasm out, his panting chest resuming its steady motions as he looks down at his messy hand.

“What is it?” he shouts back. “Don’t come in.”

On the other side of the door, Molly frowns, wondering why he’d say such a thing. She also wonders why he’s in the guest room to begin with.

“What’re you doing in there?”

Fuck. The girls still don’t know.

“I’m just, uh, reorganizing some things. What do you want, honey?”

“We’re wondering if we can order some pizza.”

Oh, that was quick. He thought you’d be outside for at least another hour.

“Uh, sure. You can use my card. It’s in the kitchen junk drawer.”

“Okay, thanks. Do you want anything?”

“Just a pepperoni pizza, baby. That’s all.” He answers, grabbing the tissue from his nightstand to clean himself off.

“Okay.” Molly returns, spinning around to head back down the stairs. But then she stops. “Oh, also, can my friend spend the night? She’s the one you met at my first game.”

Adrenaline punches through his already spent veins, his head shooting up once more to stare at the door. He thinks to himself for a moment, pondering his answer before suddenly babbling out his response.

“Sure!” he says back, a little too loud. “Y-yeah.”

Molly narrows her eyes slightly at his response, not exactly what she expected.

“Okay…” she eventually responds, turning to fully walk away.

Dave tosses the sticky tissues into the bin beside his bed. Then he stands, zipping himself up and making his way into his bathroom to wash his hands. Once he’s done, he runs his hands under some cold water, splashing it onto his face. He feels hot, and doubts his face isn’t red or at least a little pink. He then sighs, placing his palms on the edge of the marbled surface. This is going to be harder than he thought.

Okay, you’ve had it. Your thoughts are your own, it’s not like anyone can hear them, right? It’s not illegal to have a crush on someone, even if they are married. So, you come to terms with it.

Molly’s dad is fucking hot.

It was easy to think about him when you were away from Molly and your family. You didn’t feel the lingering awkwardness of his family life when in your own personal space. But when you’re at their home… well, that’s a different story.

These are the thoughts running through your head while you sit alone at the kitchen island, waiting for Molly to return from the front door with the pizzas in hand. Alice trots up the stairs, finished with her homework where she was studying in the basement, and takes a seat beside you. Before she can say anything, though, she turns to address someone else.

"Hey dad," she smiles, turning slightly in her seat.

Your body tense at the mention of him, feeling his presence before he even walks into the room. Any and all thoughts of your attraction toward him are shoved out of your head, or at least, you try to. It's weird, but it's as if you think anyone could hear your thoughts, it'd definitely be him.

He's so quiet, you think. How did I not hear him coming in?

"Hey, honey." Dave replies, a kind and calm smile on his face.

He walks forward, Molly joining his side as they enter the kitchen space in unison. The counter in the front of the island is attached to the wall, a window above the sink giving you a view of the backyard. Off to the right sits the stove, which Molly places the pizzas on.

Dave knows you're there, obviously, but he doesn't know what to say. He feels like anything that comes out of his mouth might give away the embarrassingly massive crush he has on you.

Why can't you just speak like a normal person around her?

"How was school?" he asks, deciding to address his daughters instead.

Dave's back is turned to you and the girls, opening the cabinets to take out a few plates. He also grabs four cups, noticing that Molly ordered some soda, too. Your eyes scan his figure softly, watching as the muscles in his move to reach up higher, his hands setting each plate aside meticulously once taken out of the cupboard.

"Good," Alice answers, "We have a test coming up, and a paper, too."

"Will you be able to hangout tonight?" Molly asks, turning to look at her sister.

"I honestly don't know." She replies, sighing out. "Maybe not."

Molly shrugs. "That's okay, she'll probably be over sometime soon again, anyway." She smiles and nudges your side with her elbow, prompting a small smirk to grow on your face.

Dave hopes so.

Their dad spins around, setting down a few plates, now filled with pizza. His body twists to pick up the cups, giving them to the three of you, too. He leans against the other side of the counter, directly across from you, as he picks up his slice.

"Well, I'm glad you're focusing." He says, not daring to look up at you. "You'll be graduating soon; you'll want to make sure to keep your grades up."

"I know, I know." Alice rolls her eyes, picking up her own slice.

You stare down at your food, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Something about his voce entrances you, his presence exuding an energy you haven't felt before. And Dave feels it too, the energy behind your unspoken connection causing his throat to run dry. He clears it quickly, moving to take a sip of his Coke.

With a tint of confidence rising inside, you look up, seeing Dave with his head still tilted down. He'd eaten his piece quickly, now standing and wiping his hands off, leaning his back against the far counter near the sink. He sighs, his eyes roaming the ground before looking up and instantly locking with yours. When he does, your heart lurches into your throat, anxiety crawling across your skin. You don't look away, though, feeling drawn into some kind of bubble when the darkness of his eyes bore into yours.

Off to the side of you, Molly speaks, but neither of you listen. You continue to stare, watching as Dave's eyes flicker down to your lips before returning to your pretty orbs once again. You nibble on the corner of your lip, pulse pounding faster in your veins.

"Dad?"

"Hm? What?" Dave suddenly says, widening his eyes with a small shake of his head as he turns to face his eldest daughter.

"When will mom be home?"

Oh yeah. Her mom.

“Uh, I’m not sure, honey. She said she’s going to book club. Might be out for most of the night.”

Your grin is undeniable as you watch his reaction, stumbling out his response as he tries to hide his obvious interest. Maybe this would be a fun game to play.

“Okay,” she shrugs, Alice remaining quiet on the topic.

Deciding to remain comfortable in your own thoughts again, you think back to the various scenarios you’d pictured yourself and Dave in. There were a few times you’d lay in bed thinking about him, those very thoughts keeping you up until you pleasured them out of you. Okay, well, maybe more than just a few.

You liked to think about his voice, the small moments you got when hearing the low, sometimes raspy baritone. His chuckle back at the booth was endearing, almost cocky in nature, and it made your heart race. You also liked his physique, his height and how broad he seemed to be. The thought of running your hands along his arms and back made you shiver, made your thoughts wander further. How would his lips feel? They look so soft and full; would he like it if you bit them? His hair looks soft, too. You bet it would feel so nice to run your fingers through it, preferably with him situated above you…

“What is with everyone today? Am I not talking loud enough?” Molly asks, clearly annoyed but laughing out as if it were a joke.

“What?” you ask, narrowing your brows at her as you’re pulled back to reality.

“Do. You. Want. To. Go. Swim?” she states, raising her brows with a tilt of her head.

“Oh, yeah! Sure. But um, I didn’t bring my bathing suit.”

“That’s okay! You can borrow one of mine, if you want!” she offers, smiling brightly.

“Oh, okay.”

“Thanks for the pizza, dad. I’m sure we’ll eat more later.”

“Sure thing, sweetie.” He responds, watching Molly get up and pull you toward the stairs.

You glance back at him as you follow Molly toward the steps, his dark brown eyes centered on your figure a small shock to your system. His gaze makes you breathless, a curiously bashful smirk falling on your lips when his eyes return to yours.

Dave decides to busy himself while you spend time with his daughters. He needs to fill out some paperwork, anyway. His office is in the basement, the location making it easier to keep his things hidden away. He trots down the stairs after putting everyone’s plates in the sink, Alice heading to her own room to change, too.

“Here are all my bathing suits. I’m going to change into this one; you can pick whichever one you want.” She smiles, pulling out a drawer as she shows you her small collection.

Molly is quite a bit smaller than you, in both hips and bust. Regardless, you figure you can find something that will fit. She takes her own suit, telling you that when you’re done changing, you can join her and Alice in the backyard.

“We’ll bring towels out, too.”

“Okay, thanks.” You nod, giving her a grateful smile.

Molly was always so nice and considerate, you’re happy you can call her your friend. Most people bug you, but she’s one that doesn’t. When she leaves, you look through her drawer, eventually deciding on a dark green one-piece.

“I mean…” you murmur, looking over the suit. “I guess this’ll work. It should be fine.”

You think it’ll cover most of you, you might spill out a little on the sides, but who cares? Your clothes are downstairs in your bag, so you decide to head down there to change. It’s pretty private, anyway. The door to the basement shuts, so you feel pretty confident no one will walk in. And, if they do, you’ll have time to cover yourself.

The York’s house is amazingly large, the interior decorated quite to your liking, too. The den in the basement is extremely cozy. A large sectional sofa sits against the back wall, the flatscreen TV hung up above the dark stone fireplace. There’s a white rug that takes up most of the area around the couch, ending just past its legs. To the left of the stairs is a full kitchen with a door next to it, which you assume is a bathroom. The kitchen itself is nicer than the one in your own apartment, light gray cabinets with a deep, farmhouse sink sitting in the center. The fridge is a dazzling silver, and the countertops are black marble. The walls are a light beige, accenting the brown wood floors quite nicely. A few framed pictures of the family hang on the walls, too, along with pieces of what look to be fairly expensive art. As you walk forward, you also see a door to your right.

Hm, wonder what that is.

Your bag is on the far end of the couch, and you unzip it to put your clothes in once you’re changed. Inside, you also see your phone and laptop chargers, your laptop, a few textbooks, and some clothes to sleep in. You tie your hair up into a ponytail and begin taking off your shirt. It takes only a few seconds for you to strip down to your skin, quickly leaning down to step into the one-piece bathing suit you’d picked out. Once you’ve slipped it onto your legs and up to your hips, your head shoots up to glance around the room. You thought you’d heard some kind of rummaging, but decide to shrug it off. When you stand back up, though, about to put the straps on your shoulders, the door to the right of the stairs swiftly swings open.

Dave needed to print out some papers, heading out of his office and over to the side of the couch where the printer sits. He intended to make sure it was on, but most certainly did not expect the sight he sees now.

Whipping your head around, your cheeks flush red at the person standing a few feet behind you. A small puff of air is sucked into your mouth, your eyes widening. The side of your body is clearly shown, your lower half covered by the smooth green fabric, but your upper half completely exposed. You lift your arms at your sides, elbows bent as you attempt to hide yourself from him.

“Oh, shit!” Dave huffs out, body jumping slightly as he ducks his head down and away, now looking at the wall near the stairs. “Uh, I’m s-so sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be down here.”

The pounding in your chest takes the breath away from your lungs, shoulders rising and falling as you desperately try to take in air while still keeping your outward composure. On the inside though, you’re bursting at the seams. You chew on the corner of your lip, a staggered breath choking out of your throat, unsure of what to say. Dave shifts his weight, still half-turned away from you. His hands fidget before sliding into his front pockets, foot lightly tapping as he grows aggravated with himself. How the fuck is he going to hide himself now? He turns his hips a little more, attempting to shield the view of his obvious erection. He’d caught a glance of your chest, the side of your boob fully on display when he’d walked into the room.

The moment is tense, the silence only making it worse. It feels as if you’ve stayed in these positions for an hour, though you know it’s been only a few seconds. When you finally gain your composer, something exciting washes through you, replaying Dave’s bashful reaction in your head. You smirk, eyeing him up and down.

“Can I help you with something, Mr. York?” you almost purr, the smile on your face evident through your tone.

It’s a teasing sentence, one that furthers the blush on both your face and his. He clears his throat, raising his head but still looking away from you. His hands slide out of his pockets, rising to his hips as he taps his foot lightly a few more times, trying to calm his nerves and play cool.

“I was – I needed the printer.”

You look to your left, eyeing the machine behind the couch that rests up against the wall.

“Oh,” you respond, your voice nonchalant and soft.

Dave nearly throbs in his slacks, pinching his eyes shut and taking a deep breath. He can’t stop thinking about what he just saw.

“Well, I’m almost done.” you continue, sighing out lightly as you turn your body a bit more toward him. “I’m sorry to bother you; I didn’t mean to be in your way.”

“N-no, you’re fine. You’re not a bother.” He stutters out, tilting his head backward and releasing a rough puff of hair.

Oh god, that sounded good.

“Hm…” you hum, giggling slightly.

She knows, he thinks to himself. She fucking knows.

By the way the two of you have been acting, it’s almost turned into a game of cat and mouse, and right now, you decide to be the cat. Inching forward, you keep the top of your bathing suit down, breasts slightly swaying as you walk.

Could you really grab this man’s attention? A man of his age? He has to be, what? In his mid-forties? And he’s attractive as all hell. If you got this man to look at you, you’re sure your confidence would skyrocket. So, you decide to take a chance.

Dave doesn’t see or hear you move, his stance stiffening as he holds his breath. He’s not sure what’s going to happen next, and he’s definitely not expecting what you have planned. And while he continues controlling his breath, you approach him, not close enough to touch but most certainly enough for him to see more. The stairs remain between you, tension hanging heavy in the air. Your smirk is undeniable, a fire lighting in your belly. A pang of arousal shoots through you, your center set alight just from the anticipation that’s building. You continue forward, each step a dive into completely unknown territory. It should scare you, honestly, it should make you nervous. But right now, the only emotion you can feel is excitement.

And all of sudden, your blurry figure is in his peripheral, prompting him to turn his head to the side. Dark, unsuspecting eyes fall on your half-naked form, rising immediately and searching your own. He looks for any sign of rejection, any emotion even close to unease or alarm. When he meets your gaze, he doesn’t see any of that, and your smile only grows. Adrenaline bursts through your body as you dare to tilt your hips, turning to face him full-on. Dave’s mouth drops open when you do, his length now impossibly hard at your brazen act. You watch those deep, doe-like eyes soften as he zeros in on the body standing before him, hands falling from his hips as he turns himself toward you, too. He’s in awe; he’s speechless.

The strain of his pants is entirely noticeable now, begging to be freed and to be touched. His hidden parts tent tightly against his slacks, and your brows rise to your forehead when you see him slightly throb. It’s impressive, what you see.

You’re beside the kitchen island now, and subconsciously, your left hand rises. Whether it’s out of sudden shame or irresistible arousal, likely the ladder, you cup your left breast in hand, and Dave audibly chokes. From the cold air in the basement (at least that’s what you tell yourself), your nipples harden, and Dave watches as your soft peaks become pebbled. Your insides flutter with anticipation, with something close to need but exceeding the word entirely. The moment unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before.

Amidst the current situation, your lungs inhale a sudden and small breath, unaware you’d been refraining from taking in air. A quiet, heavy whine is sighed from Dave’s throat as his eyes focus intently on your chest as it rises and falls. He can see so much of you right now, so much more than he’d ever seen before, and you’re more mouth-watering than he’d imagined. The sports bras you often wear don’t give your beauty justice, holding your stunning body tightly together and making your breasts appear much smaller than they truly are. The curve of your waist is accentuated much more now, too, rising fully up your body and dipping above your hips.

You watch him watch you, analyzing your body and you can tell he likes what he sees. And then, Dave’s eyes unexpectedly rise to yours, his look shifting from pleasantly surprised to overtly starved. It almost makes you take a step back, the ravenous look he displays.

“Hey!”

“Jesus,” you jump, now moving to take three steps back.

Dave grunts loudly, trying to cover his surprise with a cough as his own body jolts with a turn. The bubble of your somewhat intimate moment is popped, the feel of it all dissipating into frantic fear of whoever just opened the door to the basement at the top of the stairs.

“Are you down there?” Molly calls your name, wondering why it’s taken you so long to get changed.

“Um, y – yeah.” You respond, staring at the steps from your hidden position near the island counter and hoping to God she doesn’t come down.

“Well, what’re you doing? C’mon, me and Alice are already in the pool.” She says, contemplating her descent.

“Okay, I’ll be right out!” you quickly shout back, fear crawling along your skin.

After a moment of silence, you breathe a sigh of relief, finally hearing her close the door. Dave looks over his shoulder when she does, sneaking another peak. And when your eyes relieve themselves of their intense stare at the carpeted steps, they return to his, the enticing moment returning to its full profane glory. You grin as you step forward once again, the space between your legs pulsing from the thrill of it all. You’re surprised you both resumed your silent, yet entirely stimulating interaction so quickly.

He turns and watches you approach him, your eyes blatantly lowering to stare at his erect crotch. His chest rises and falls with rapture, taking in the sight of your bare tits as if he can’t look away. And he can’t, he can’t. Because, what if this is the only time he sees you like this? He can’t believe he’s seeing you like this.

You make him think you’re walking over to him but stop short when you reach the stairs. You’re so close to him now, close enough for him to touch. The older man’s eyes fall to your chest, unable to help himself. He almost reaches out. His expression looks conflicted, almost pained. Your hands fall to the bathing suit’s straps, slowly sliding them up your arms and covering the view Dave apparently craves. When you take the entire fantasy away, those hungry eyes are forced to meet yours. You glance up the stairs to make sure no one’s there before you decide to audibly address him. Your eyes flicker to his left, the corners of your lips curling.

“The printer’s on.” You grin, finally heading up the stairs.

When you eventually caught up with the girls, you found them on the back deck. Apparently, a mole had scratched a hole into the bottom of the pool, and it was draining quickly. At this point, you and Molly are exhausted. You both had practice after school and then, for some ungodly reason, decided to practice your routines in Molly’s backyard on top of that. Being that it’s Friday night, Molly wanted to make the night fun, and now that you can’t swim and it’s getting late, she’s frustrated. She knows you were likely invited to a fraternity party tonight and skipped out on it to be here with her and worries you’re not having a good time.

After some thinking, the two of you decide to have a Twilight movie marathon. Alice had gone upstairs to study in her room, which works out because she hates the Twilight Saga movies, anyways.

“Are you okay?” you ask Molly, noticing her frowning face.

“Um, yeah. Why?” she answers, not looking at you as she grabs the TV remote.

“You just… seem a little down.”

“Did you get invited to the Delt house tonight?” she asks, fumbling with the control’s rubber buttons.

“Yeah, I did. Wait, why? Does that bother you?” you ask, wondering if that, of all things, is what she’s been upset about.

Molly shrugs, finally glancing over at you. “Feel like you would’ve had a better time there.” She mumbles, chewing on the corner of her lip.

“What?” you laugh, raising a brow. “If you think I’d rather be at some frat house than here with you, then you’ve lost your damn mind.”

That makes Molly laugh, which in turn makes you smile. Molly is truly one of the best people you think you’ve ever met. The two of you were so comfortable with each other, gravitating toward one another the moment you met. It’s as if you’d always known her.

“Look, why don’t you find the movies and grab the pizza, and I’ll go get some extra blankets, alright?” you bargain, deciding that a single blanket won’t be enough for you in the York’s chilly basement.

“Okay,” she sighs with a nod, her mood seeming to lift.

Molly tells you where the spare blankets are, each of you splitting off into your own tasks. What you told her was true; there’s no way in hell you’d pass up hanging out with Molly to see some stupid, sweaty boys. And… seeing her dad might be a plus, too.

The room with the spare blankets is easy enough to find, being that it’s right at the top of the stairs. At the end of the hall, you notice that a door is slightly ajar. You assume it to be the master bedroom, eyeing the modern interior of it. A pang of guilt surges through your gut when you’re suddenly reminded that Dave is married. You shouldn’t have done that earlier. Thinking about him in your own head is one thing, fucking flashing the man is another.

You do your best to shove your remorseful feelings aside, wanting to have a nice night with Molly without the thoughts of your impulsive actions getting in the way. With a firm hand on the knob, you twist it, swinging open the door to the guest room. You assume it will be a general setup, but when you flick on the light, you’re met with something a bit different. The sheets are a little disheveled, a phone sits on the right nightstand connected to a charger, with a glass of water sitting beside it. There’s also a pair of shoes at the foot of the bed, and a laptop sitting on the sheets.

When Dave walks out of the master bedroom to see the guest room light on, his eyes widen with panic. He hastily jogs down the hall to see who it is, trying to gather some sort of last-minute excuse in his mind. Whichever daughter found his new living arrangement will undoubtedly expect an explanation as to why their father is sleeping in a separate room.

“Oh, um… hi.”

You heard Dave’s heavy footsteps down the hall, turning around just in time to see him arrive in the doorway. His brows narrow slightly; you’re not the person he expected to be in here.

“I, um…” you gesture behind you, an awkward movement fitting for an awkward situation. Though not quite as strange as the event you’d created earlier in the basement. “Molly said there’s, some uh, some blankets… in here.”

“Oh,” Dave quietly replies, taking a gulp as he attempts to calm his racing mind. “Yeah, uh, I think – I think they’re in here.” He says, taking too quick of step into the room and moving beside you.

The carpet moves slightly as you shift on your feet, trying to get out of his way. He goes to the closet on the far side of the room, opening it to grab an armful of the extra blankets Carol had set aside.

“Thanks,” you stutter out, allowing him to drop the heavy comforters in your arms.

Your eyes meet when the two of you glance up, instantly darting away. You shift on your feet, moving your arms to gain a better grasp on the blankets.

“Yeah, sure.” He nods, hands on his hips as he looks away.

You stand there for a little too long, unsure of what to say but quickly deciding there’s nothing else that needs to be said as you turn to walk away. But Dave on the other hand, he decides to speak.

“Hey,”

It almost makes him chuckle when you turn around, your eyes just barely peaking over the mountain of blankets in your arms. And while his chuckle doesn’t slip out, his smile certainly does, and it makes your stomach buzz with butterflies.

“Uh, Molly and Alice… they aren’t – they don’t know about this. Me, sleeping in here.”

All at once, the realization hits you. He and Carol may not be together anymore; are they separated? And how do they pull it off with Alice and Molly (partly) still living at home? What’s the exact situation here?

“Oh, um… o – okay.”

“So, please don’t tell them.”

“I won’t.” you promise with a light shake of your head.

Since you’re both talking, you figure now is as good a time as ever to muster up the courage for your apology. Whether he’s married or not, you’re not sure you should’ve made that advance. You set the blankets down beside the door, brushing a stray hair behind your ear as you stand.

“I’m sorry, if earlier… if I made you uncomfortable.”

And his next words, well, they shock you, they make you happy. And maybe Dave’s shocked, too, but he knows it’s the truth.

��You didn’t.”

Chapter Three: What You Need

General Taglist: @anaaaispunk @dihra-vesa @sweetangel0069 @coaaster @pepascalhoe @evyiione @bport76 @tanzthompson @littlemisspascal @mswarriorbabe80 @just-here-for-the-moment @nagassia @phnyx @woomen23 @hotchlover @balekanemohafe @misscampacyn @practicalghost @pedrostories @xxxroxsxxx @thatpinkshirt @weepingsoulstranger @hauntedmama @atjoyfilms @toomanystoriessolittletime @lovesbiggerthanpride @luciandrine @my-blink-romance @pedropascalswife @ms-loverman-066

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#dear god #i'm sweating #my best friend's dad series #mbfd series #dave york #dave york x you #dave york x reader #dave york x female reader #dave york imagine #dave york smut #dave york fanfiction #the equalizer 2 #the equalizer 2 imagine #the equalizer 2 smut #the equalizer 2 fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fic #reader w/ descriptions

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danidrabbles · 3 years

Text

OCTOBER 15: LACTATION KINK

Notes: Shit. Okay. It's 2AM, this is so late. This fic really kicked my butt. This is the first day where I actually really struggled and wanted to give up. Which makes sense, because we’re practically at the halfway mark of Kinktober and I’ve written roughly 20k words at this point... But I don't quit!! So here we are. I tried some different perspective stuff and also tries to dive more into the descriptive side of things, and I hope you all like this!

But before you find out if you do, I do want to mention Cris @highsviolets whose Javi fic, in particular this, this and this, heavily inspired me to write this in this setting. Cris, I know you’re going through it writing wise, but I hope you know you’re such a talented, treasured writer, especially when it comes to Javi fic, and an even more treasured friend 💙

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+!)

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: established relationship (this has become my thing now huh...) and you have a baby!, introspective stuff, bad thoughts, family stuff, breasts but no mention of size, lactation kink (of course), fingering (f receiving), romance (should I still add this? It’s a given at this point). I think that’s all. If I forgot anything, let me know!

This isn’t the life Javier envisioned he would have.

Ever.

He’s back in Laredo. Not permanently, of course, a week is hardly permanent, but he’s back nonetheless. It makes him shiver, how familiar it all feels despite the years that have passed. Maybe because he never expected to be back, never expected the streets to be the same, the people to be the same—the bookstore’s in the same spot, as is the flower shop.

You’re in Laredo as well. For the first time. Not because you didn’t want to come sooner, it’s just that work has been killing the both of you, which is why you never got to anything beyond calls. But if Javier is being honest with himself, he didn’t exactly jump at the chance to make plans, either.

Thankfully, the thought of you here was far more terrifying than this reality.

“It’s beautiful out today, isn’t it?” you ask.

When you turn to him with a smile, you look even more gorgeous than you had when you first met. He suspects it’s partly because you’re behind the pram, pushing your baby daughter—the tiny human the two of you made—your tiny surprise—he still couldn’t believe it happened—molded from love, just shy of three months old. She made you glow.

A beautiful day? “It is.”

He’d be jealous of the little lady getting so much attention if he wasn’t sick with how much he loved the two of you; it makes something bubble in his stomach, so deep and foreign, and some days he wonders if he really is sick, or if this is just what it’s supposed to feel like when you love so deeply.

He’s never really been this happy.

Going home hadn’t really been the plan, but you were still on maternity leave and he, well… he was taking a leave of absence from the DEA. He was still going over the offer—going to Mexico, chasing bad guys—but if he was honest with himself, he’d decided long ago. If he really wanted to do it he would have said yes by now, and the truth of the matter is: He likes this normal life.

It caught him off guard. He still considers himself too old, and franky, unworthy, of this normal life. He’s in his mid fucking 40s, his back hurts more every day, and here he is, changing diapers in the dead of night, warming up bottles of milk to feed the little one.

But sometimes, he gets bad, especially when he starts thinking about his job. He’s done so much bad fucking shit he’s afraid this is all gonna be taken from him at any given moment, like this—this… glimpse of having this life—is some sick joke the universe is playing on him. If the way his heart drops at the mere thought of it is any indication, he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t survive this being some pipedream—

A hand closes over his own and pulls him to a stop, and when he turns to look at you, you’re already turned to him, expectant look in your eyes. “You’re miles away,” you tell him, tugging him along to take your place behind the pram. “Why don’t you just stay here with us, hmm?”

Javier’s hands close over the handle, the foam giving a little squeak at the force. Inside, his daughter is sleeping soundly, safe in the shade the canopy provides, and just as he goes to look away, she wakes, and he’s greeted by those big, brown eyes that make him feel like he’s looking in the mirror.

“I’m here,” he says, tone fond as he watches the baby yawn and squirm. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

It happens after lunch. There’s a soft mutter of your voice, the tone enough to know it’s a curse without hearing your exact words, before you excuse yourself from the post-lunch chat with a curt, “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as Javier can hear your footsteps on the staircase, he gets up from his chair.

“Papá,” he says, turning to his father, “watch her for a second?” He nods at the pram that holds a sleepy, milk-saitiated baby. “I’m just gonna... check.”

Chucho nods, gestures for his son to get upstairs, and he does so swiftly, finding himself standing at the guest bedroom door. With a quick rap of his knuckles, he announces his presence, before asking, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” comes the reply from the other side of the door.

The tone is anything but assuring. “Can I come in?”

He doesn’t actually hear you sigh, but he knows you well enough to know that you are, in fact, sighing, before saying, “Sure.”

Forcing himself to slow, he turns the doorknob and steps into the bedroom. The sight he’s greeted with brings him no comfort. You’re on the bed, the top half of your body bare, swiping a wet cloth over your top with determination. The red rims around your puffy eyes reveal just how frustrated you are, and the reason for it glistens wetly on your chest.

“Baby…” he begins, softly closing the door before approaching.

“Javi, really, it’s fine,” you sniff, swiping and swiping and it only makes the wet spot on the clothes larger. “You know it happens.”

It takes him a moment to long to think of what to say, of how he can help, and you fill the silence.

“I just… I don’t get it,” you say with another sigh, stopping your work and staring up at the ceiling with a shake of your head. “I feed her, I feed her enough, I pump, and still… Maybe I’m doing something wrong.”

“No.” Javier is quick to kneel, carefully prying the cloth and top from your fingers before closing his hands over yours. “You’re doing fantastic. You’re just figuring it all out, and so is your body.”

“I know that, but it’s been three months—”

“Exactly,” Javier interrupts. “It’s only been three months. It’s normal.”

Your shoulders slump at the words, a relieved breath sailing out through your nose. With a cock of your head, you offer him a tired smile, before leaning down to kiss him. “Thank you, Jav. I needed that. It doesn’t take care of this…,” you gesture at your chest with a wet laugh, “...yet, but…”

“You should…” His eyes drop down to your leaking chest, the glinting peaks of your breasts. It makes him lick his lips, before his eyes find yours again. “You should let me take care of… of your discomfort.” He shuffles closer on his knees, presses a kiss to your shoulder, and when you give him a sceptical look, he adds, “I’m serious. You always take care of me.”

He thinks about how you comfort him about his work, how you’ve made it easier to voice his thoughts, and feelings. He likes his place in your arms, but he likes his place here, too. On his knees, offering you whatever he can give you. He would give you everything; anything you asked, and yet you rarely did, not even now.

It made him even more hungry to give.

You’re achingly beautiful. Clothes askew, your soft flesh exposed, chest and belly slowly rising and falling with each breath you take to think about it. You glow inside just as much as outside; you don’t need the sun. With a bite to your lip, denting the soft skin, you nod.

“Okay,” you say. “Just-Just be gentle. I’m… it’s a lot, and…”

He shushes you with a soft kiss to the inside of your palm. “I know, baby. I know. I will.”

When Javier gently cups your chest, you moan his name softly; your flesh isn’t nearly as giving as... before, you’re full, your body now occupied with taking care of the small human it produced, and he aches to relieve you of it. He squeezes your right breast with delicacy, and he twitches with interest when a drop of liquid beads at your nipple. This isn’t about him, though. He wants to make you feel good, makes you want to comfort you until you sag against him and kiss the top of his head.

He leans in, unfurling his tongue slowly and licking at you with just the very tip of his tongue.

“F-Fuck,” you stammer, nails dragging through his hair. Your back arches, bringing your chest closer to him. “That’s good — that feels good. Again.”

Emboldened by your encouragement, he closes his lips around the peak of your breast, sucking at you and dragging the flat of his tongue over you until he can taste you there. It’s so fucking...sweet. And somehow, he recognizes it, recognizes you in it. Incapable of not voicing it, he tells you how good you taste, and your answering moan makes him suckle a little harder to get more of you on his tongue.

“That’s it, honey,” you sigh, closing a hand around the back of his head and pushing him closer.

His answering groan reverbates against your breast, and you jerk against him, knees pushing against his ribs with a jolt and a, “Oh!”

A pull at his hair makes Javier release you with a plop, the sound echoing wetly through the bedroom. He licks his lips, swallows what remains of your taste on his tongue and clears his throat. “Too much?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head as your eyes flutter closed with a fond smile. “You’re perfect, it’s just...,” you take his free hand, guide it under the long skirt you’re wearing and press his fingers against your underwear, “a little too good.”

His breath catches in his throat at the feeling, the soft cotton between your legs soaked through. Curious fingers press against the material to find your pert clit, stroking it through the fabric and watching you tremble.

“‘S‘good Javi,” you slur, using the grip you still have on his wrist to push him harder against you. “Really wanna...wanna come.”

Everything.

He surges up, pressing his mouth to yours and licking into your mouth. He guides you on your back, rucks up the skirt to slip his fingers under the waistband of your underwear. Your breasts bob with the movement, glistening with his saliva. He closes his mouth around your other nipple just as his fingers skate over your bare clit, and your hand shoots up to cover your mouth, muffling the cry that spills from between your lips.

He divides the attention of his mouth between your breasts, tongue swirling and lips sucking, eagerly drinking you down and conveying his appreciation for the taste of you with soft sounds while he strokes your clit. He keeps his eyes trained on you, gauging your reaction in case he gives you too much—and he does when he fits a fingertip at your entrance.

With a shake of your head, you close a hand around his wrist and you lead him back up. “Keep touching my clit,” you say.

Javier lets his nose drag along the swell of your breast when he nods, rolling his fingers over the top of your sex while he continues to taste you. He’s half-hard, trapped against the confines of his jeans, and he ruts against the bed to get some relief. It’s not going to make him reach his peak, but it’s enough, because that is not his endgame here.

Your hand finds his neck, a trembling squeeze before you huff out that you’re gonna come. He loves the breathy sound of your voice, the squeeze of your thighs around his hand. He makes his circles tighter, flicks your clit faster to make you come undone for him as his tongue works diligently on your chest.

The climax he pulls from you makes you shake, and the soft little sounds of your voice saying his name make him do the same. He indulges in one more swipe of his tongue, before he comes up to your face for a languid kiss.

He only pulls away to ask you how you feel.

“Much better, thank you,” you assure. You wait a beat, two, before saying, “Will you let me take care of you now?”

Leaning up on one arm, Javier uses his free hand to swipe your hair from your forehead. “Later, okay?”

You accept with a nod, then scrunch up your nose to voice your next thought, “I can’t imagine what your dad must think of us right now. I mean, best case scenario, he thinks we’re two very sleep deprived new parents who’ve taken a nap. Worst case scenario, he knows we were having sex.”

Javier chuckles lowly. “In both cases he’s downstairs keeping the living proof company.”

With a laugh, you reach up to cup his jaw, stroke a thumb over his smooth cheek. “I still can’t believe we made her.”

“She’s perfect.”

You hum your approval. “How could she not be?” Your eyes roam over his face, adoration apparent even before you add, “She’s part you.”

Javier presses an elongated kiss to your forehead, and he suspects you don’t know, but those words are the only taking care of he’ll need today.

[incoherent murmurs of gratitude]. Tomorrow's prompt is kind of wild. It's Fucking Machine. No romance on Saturday... Send in your guesses if you want to know more about that one 👀 See you tomorrow!

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townofcrosshollow · 3 years

Text

Twine Sugarcube 101

AKA, all you need to make a Twine game (I swear to god)

I’ve seen a lot of people go “Twine is too complicated for me :(” and give up before they’ve even started. And that makes me sad, partly because they’re giving up on a really cool hobby, and also because that’s false! It’s absolutely not too complicated for you!

I think the problem is that people look up Twine, see the documentation, and go “There’s way too much there! I can’t learn all that!” Well guess what- you shouldn’t learn all that, at least not yet. As a beginner you can skip pretty much all of this:

(Ignore <<linkappend>> too, forgot to crop that one out)

That’s a lot more manageable, right? Below the cut, I’ll let you know how to use all those remaining important things to make your story! Warning- it’s quite long! You might want to read it in sections! And while I’ll try to keep it entertaining, it’s also a coding tutorial, so... y’know. Might not be the most exciting read if you aren’t trying to learn Twine.

Welcome to below the cut!

First off, make sure your story format is set to Sugarcube 2. On the right side of the home screen (with all your stories), click format and choose the one labeled “Sugarcube 2.x.x” then open a new story with the green button! Here’s what you’ll see and what it all means:

Passages are all like individual web pages that you navigate between to play the game. When they’re linked together they’ll be shown like this:

Anything you write in a passage will just be shown on screen as plain text, no code required! But if you want to make anything more than just one passage with a bunch of text, you’ll have to link passages together with...

Links!

A link is composed of two parts- the text you see on screen, and the name of the passage you’re attaching it to. These are enclosed in [[double square brackets]], with a vertical bar | or a little arrow -> between them. If you want to show the passage name instead of alternative text, you can just put the passage name in square brackets alone! So this in the editor:

[[Visible text|Passage name]]

[[Visible text->Passage name]]

[[Passage name]]

Will look like this in the story:

Visible text

Passage name

And all of them will lead to the passage labeled “Passage name.” You don’t even need to create the passage- when Twine sees that you’ve linked to a passage that doesn’t exist, it’ll add that passage for you.

That’s all you need to know! Technically, all you need to do to make a Twine story is add those fancy links between passages. If you add your awesome writing skills, that story will be super cool!

...but you want to do some fancy shit, right? Well let me introduce you to the next step up in complexity,

Variables!

“Variable” is a fun, code-y way to say “a bit of information that can change.” You could say they... vary.

Variables are useful for keeping track of information. If the player chooses to be blonde instead of a redhead, you might want to bring that up again- but you probably don’t want to write an entirely separate story based on that choice, right? So instead you save that information as a variable.

In Twine, variables are written as words with a $ in front of them. So my hair colour variable might be “$hairColour.” If you just write the variable out without any code, Twine will print the information you put into the variable. So if $hairColour is set to “blonde,” this...

She had $hairColour hair.

Will become...

She had blonde hair.

The value in a variable can be a boolean (ie. true or false), a number, or a string (like “blonde” or “any other string of characters”). They can also be fancy stuff like arrays, but we won’t be touching on that.

You can use variables to keep track of a lot of things! For instance...

How much money the player has

Whether a player has a key

What the player’s name is

I keep mentioning the value of a variable or “setting” it, but how do you do that? Well, one way is to add it to a link. If you want a link to set hair colour to blonde, for instance, you could write [[Blonde|Next passage][$hairColour to “blonde”]]. Clicking on that link would forward the player to “Next passage” and set the value of $hairColour to “blonde.”

There is a better way of doing it, however, but we’ll need to talk about...

Macros!

A macro is a snippet of code that runs when you put a special code word inside these <<spiky boys>>. You can write your own macros with JavaScript if you’re smart, find them on the internet if you’re even more smart, or just use the ones that come built in with Sugarcube.

The ones we’ll be talking about, and the ones that are the most important for most Twine games, are <<set>>, <<if>>, and <<link>>.

<<set>>

The <<set>> macro allows you to, you guessed it, assign a value to a variable. For instance, if you want to set $hairColour to blonde... well, that’s all you need to do! It’s just:

<<set $hairColour to “blonde”>>

It’s important to remember with the <<set>> macro that strings (collections of different characters) require quotation marks around them to show the code that it isn’t a number or a true/false value. If you put quotes around a number and try to do math with that variable, you’ll get a big ol’ error message.

If you’re using numbers, you can also use JavaScript operators in place of “to.” Each one will perform a calculation on the variable if that variable is a number, and then replace the variable with the result. If you want to add $5 to the player’s $money, you could use this:

<<set $money += 5>>

The “+=“ will add the number on the right to the variable on the left. “-=“ will do the same for subtraction, “*=“ for multiplication, and “/=“ for division. Easy enough, just don’t forget the = sign after the usual symbol!

By default, the <<set>> macro will be executed as soon as the page it’s on loads. Sometimes that’s useful, but sometimes you would rather the player click a link that sets a variable- like if they choose a hair colour. You might also want the same link to set multiple variables, like subtracting money and giving them an item when they use a shop. How do we do that?

<<link>>

The <<link>> macro is also pretty simple. All it does is create a link, and when that link it pressed it executes whatever is inside of it. Here we’ll be using it with <<set>>, but you can use it with all kinds of different macros and even nest some of them to do really complicated stuff!

As an example, we want the player to click “buy key,” give the player the key, and subtract $5 from their money. Here’s how we do it:

<<link “Buy key”>>

<<set $key to true>>

<<set $money -= 5>>

<</link>>

The text the player will click is in quotation marks, and after all of the macros we need to execute we have to close off the code by adding <</link>>. Easy, right?

But other than printing them on the screen, what can you actually use those variables for? Well, for that we’ll be using...

<<if>>

The <<if>> macro is my favourite, hands down, because it’s an easy way of accomplishing hard stuff. Simply put, <<if>> will check if the thing you asked about is true, and if it is, it will do whatever you put inside of it.

Here’s a simple example:

<<if $key is true>>

[[Use the key|Progress]]

<</if>>

Whatever is inside the <<if>> macro will be executed if the “if” statement is true. In this case, the link “Use the key” will be printed on the screen only if the player has the key. This also applies to code- if you put a <<set>> macro inside, that macro would only set a variable if the player has the key.

Now here’s a more complicated example, to show everything the <<if>> macro is capable of. Here we also want to check if they’ve already opened the door, and display alternate text if they have no key and the door is locked.

<<if $key is true>>

[[Use the key|Progress]]

<<elseif $doorOpen is true>>

[[Walk through|Progress]]

<<else>>

You need to find a key.

<</if>>

I’ll break it down line by line to tell you what each thing does.

<<if $key is true>>

This line is the only necessary one- it checks whether $key has been set to true. You can check for any value that a variable can be, like a number, true/false, or a string. You can also check for other things with this macro- for instance, “isnot” will check that the variable isn’t equal to the value on the right. “gt” or “lt” will check if the variable is greater/lesser than the value on the right, and “gte” or “lte” will check if it is greater than or equal to the value.

<<elseif $doorOpen is true>>

This line allows us to check for something else within the same <<if>> macro. Once the game has checked the original <<if>> and found that it is false, it will move on to checking each <<elseif>> until it finds one that is true. You can have as many <<elseif>>s as you need, and they can check the same variable or different variables, but only the first true one will be executed! And, of course, you can’t use <<elseif>> on its own- it’s stuck to the <<if>> macro!

<<else>>

This line is the last resort- if the original <<if>> and any <<elseif>>s have all been false, the game will execute whatever is after <<else>>. Because of this, there can only be one <<else>> line within any <<if>> macro! If you don’t have an <<else>>, nothing at all will be executed, so whether you include one depends on the situation.

<</if>>

This closes off the <<if>> macro. Nothing special, but very important! Put it after the last piece of code or bit of text you want the macro to control.

Phew. That’s it! That’s all I wanted to show you!

Now, HOMEWORK!

Okay, not homework, just practice. Here are some things you can try building to practice all these tools and get comfortable with how they work!

A store system with different items for different amounts of money

A character creation screen, followed by a description of your character (with variables!)

A puzzle that requires you to choose the right answer to proceed

If you have any trouble, need to ask any questions, or if something in this tutorial wasn’t clear to you, please let me know- you can DM me or send me an ask anytime and I’m happy to answer any Twine questions you have. I hope this was of use to you, and have fun making games <3

#told you i was making a tutorial!#not crosshollow #tutorial #game dev #twine game #twine #interactive fiction #gamedev

2K notes · View notes

cryonme · 3 years

Text

𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐁𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐈𝐕

PART FOUR- “I Can’t Stop Thinking About The Way You Held Me That Night After The Boneyard And I Think I Need You To Do It Again.”

part one here

part two here

part three here

short series-- jj maybank x kook!reader

word count- 4.2k

tw- scratching, panic, description of bruises and cuts, big ol mental breakdown, swearing, self deprecation, fluff if you fuckin squint harder than you ever have in your life, mentions of blood, hints at sexual assault, mentions of wanting to throw up probably more please tell me if I missed something :( typos guaranteed

a/n- thank you for being so patient for this part! it was a busy couple days for Roxie!! again, the reader talks a lot of self deprecation, and I want to make it clear, I do not agree with her views on herself. please remember that I don't think of victims that way, I just wanted to write accurately. love you all so much!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You were basically a shell of a human being for the next week.

Your dad and Christine had told Shoupe that it was no surprise to them that Tyler had done this, and explained that they had kicked him out of the house and why. Tyler was apparently “nowhere to be found”, very convenient, considering the police were looking for him.

All you wanted was to go see your friends, you wanted to tell them everything. You wanted to apologize for the way you treated them and thank them for saving you.

But your dad and Christine had you practically locked up in your room.

You were afraid to even ask to leave, knowing they would get upset again. You avoided bringing up the situation at all, not wanting to see the sad looks on their faces.

So, you waited. You waited a week to see your friends just so you wouldn’t have to go through the awkward sadness.

“Dad?” You asked softly as you walked into his office, hands shoved in the back pockets of your blue jean shorts. He was writing at his desk, his fingers flying across the keyboard. He started working from home when he got the call from Christine about what had happened. You hadn’t told either of them what you know yet, you needed to know more before telling someone as powerful as your father.

“Hey, honey.” He turned in his chair and smiled, taking his glasses off, giving you a warm smile.

You and your dad had a good relationship. You weren’t best friends, you didn’t tell him everything, you didn’t hang out often. But, he loved you with everything he had, and would do, and has done, just about anything for you.

“Hey,” You started, fidgeting with your hands and the rings on your fingers. “I uh- I was wondering if- Everyone’s going to John B’s today and I really miss my friends and Pope and JJ and John B will all be there so they can protect me if anything happens and-”

“(Y/n),” Your dad started but you kept rambling.

“And I just think it’s really important for me to get out of the house especially-”

“You can go.”

“Because of what happened here and I just- wait, I can?”

Your dad nodded, standing up and placing his hand on your shoulders, looking straight into your eyes with his (y/c/e) eyes, sullen and misty.

“I agree, I think you should go.”

You smiled and wrapped your arms around your dad, squeezing extra tight. He let out a watery laugh and kissed your head.

“I’m really sorry kiddo. I can’t believe I wasn’t-” He stopped for a moment and let out a deep sigh, “I just can’t believe I let it go on for so long.” You frowned and just hugged your dad tighter. “You didn’t let anything go on, it’s my fault.”

Your dad's lip quivered and he rested his chin on your head, “It’s no one’s fault but his, let’s say that.

You nodded in agreement, “Let’s.”

After a couple more apologies and just a few more tears, you and your dad pulled away and you made your way back to your room, after stopping by Christine’s room to tell her you were leaving and promising 50 times to be so safe, and sent a text to Sarah.

*Can I hitch a ride to JB’s?*

It took about 15 seconds for her to reply.

OH THANK GOD

YES WTF

You smiled at your phone and shook your head, almost giddy with excitement to see your best friends. You knew Sarah was probably gonna pick you up in less than a couple minutes, so you stuck with the outfit you had on already, opting against a swimsuit. Your cuts and bruises had healed and faded immensely, but they were still there, and you’d rather skip the pity glances and sad looks. Your hands were still wrapped in compression wrap from the force of Tyler’s kick, along with your left knee and rib cage, your neck covered in red, ugly scratches from your panic attacks, and you had to be very careful with your movements so you wouldn’t worsen your concussion. You were already in a lot of pain, and having to deal with your emotional pain today would just be too much. You knew they came from a good place, and they were just concerned, but that’s not what you were there for today, you had a lot more problems in your future than just a couple injuries.

Once Sarah had texted you that she was waiting outside, you made your way downstairs, bidding your parents one last goodbye before walking out the front door and giving your best friend a wave as you made your way to her passenger seat.

“I’m not gonna hug you because I’m afraid I’ll squeeze you too tight and I know you’re injured.”

You giggled and leaned over the center console, giving her a quick kiss on top of her head and a big smile. “I would offer you my hand to squeeze but unfortunately my hands did not make it out unscathed.”

Sarah just nodded, taking in your appearance for a moment before clearing her throat and starting her car, blinking hard a couple times as she made her way out of your neighborhood.

“I didn’t tell anyone you’re coming, they’ll be so excited.” She forced a smile to her face and you returned it.

You knew she was having a really hard time having you in her car, forced to look at you and remember the day they found you nearly unconscious with Tyler’s hand around your throat.

You probably looked disgusting.

You pulled down the mirror to examine your face, your eye was still swollen and discolored, your lip as well. You had a yellowing bruise on your right cheekbone and a healing cut on your eyebrow right above it.

A sight to see.

“(Y/n/n)...”

“Please don’t, S.” You said softly, flipping the mirror back up in its place and turning to your blonde haired friend, giving her a weak smile. “Just making sure they’re healing okay. Forgot to check before we left.”

Sarah just nodded, not looking convinced by your untrue words.

The sound of Sarah’s tires rolling over the dirt road made your stomach flip, you weren’t ready yet. You didn’t want to see John B’s sad eyes, or Kiara’s quivering lip, or Pope’s lingering eyes on your bandages.

You didn’t wanna see JJ’s face, you’d turn to putty if you saw even an ounce of hurt in those pretty blue eyes.

You took a deep breath when Sarah finally rolled up to the Chateau, trying to calm your shaking hands, using one to steady the other, but it was no use since they were both unsteady. You mustered up all of your courage and confidence and opened the car door, immediately spotting your friends on John B’s wrap around porch, drinking beers and laughing.

They don’t miss you. You had told yourself, stopping in your tracks and raking your hands through your hair, suddenly wanting to cry. Look how much fun they’re having without you.

What you hadn’t seen was the pogues sitting in silence only moments before, sullen looks on their faces as they forced light conversation and jokes, before one finally made them laugh, bringing peace to the friends for just a moment.

“Hey,” Sarah stood in front of you, hands on your cheeks. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t have to. Her eyes looking into yours with nothing but love and compassion was enough. “Come on.” She nodded encouragingly and grabbed your hand, pulling you behind her as she approached the screen door.

You wanted to throw up.

The door cracked open, it’s rusty hinges making a high pitched squeaking noise.

And there it was.

John B’s sad eyes.

Kiara’s quivering lip.

Pope’s eyes glued to your bandages.

You didn’t look at JJ.

“Fuck.” Kiara breathed out as she quickly stood up from her spot to hug you, but quickly stopped herself as she got closer and could see the damage more clearly. She stared at you a moment with teary eyes, not sure what to do.

“Just hug me, weirdo.” You said, grabbing her arm and pulling her in for a light hug.

“God, I just wanna squeeze you.” She muttered, her mouth pressed against your shoulder.

“Please don’t.” You said, only half joking.

You both giggled and pulled away, you gave her a small smile before squeezing her shoulders.

“Love you, Kie.”

“I love you way more, how are you doing?”

You just shook your head, “I’d rather not get into that, if that’s okay.”

Kie just nodded. She should’ve known better with you, of course you weren’t gonna answer that question.

“At least you’re not lying.” John B said, pulling you into a light hug much like the one you had with Kie moments before, his arms around your shoulders while your cheek rested on his chest, his chin on top of your head.

“Love you, bub. Glad you’re okay.” He said into your hair before leaving a slight kiss, pulling away to put his hand in Sarah’s, his gaze lingering on your broken down figure.

Pope just kept looking at you, obviously freaked out.

“Hey, Heyward.” You put your hand under his chin, bringing his eyes up to yours. You smiled at the boy and nodded, “I’m okay.”

Pope reached one hand up to grab yours, hot holding it too tight, but just enough to tell you how much he loves you. “I’m happy you’re here.”

JJ watched as you had a heartfelt moment with each of your friends, but wouldn’t spare a single glance in his direction. She had whispered his name in pain just a week ago, wanting him by her side, and now she won’t look at him.

She realized what a piece of shit you are.

The pogues sensed the tension, all of them standing up and heading inside the house to give you two a moment alone. You wanted to beg them to stay, or follow them inside even. Grab a bag of chips and flop yourself onto the couch with your head in Pope’s lap, giggling at John B and Sarah’s lovers quarrel in the kitchen.

But you had to face this head on, you had to face JJ head on. It was time.

“Why won’t you look at me?” JJ asked, trying to mask his anger, it wasn’t working.

“I-”

“After all this, I thought we were past the hatred, (Y/n).” He was trying to keep his cool, but he couldn’t. Keeping his cool was never one of his strong suits.

“JJ-”

“I’m not doing this anymore with you. You can-”

You cut him off. If he said one more angry word at you you wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“JJ, I know you hate me and I know I’m a bitch and I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you. But, god, I can’t stop thinking about the way you held me that night after the boneyard and I think I need you to do it again.” Your voice shook as you finally whipped your head to look at him, wincing at the sharp pain that shot through your head from the sudden movement.

There was that hurt in his eyes, plain as day. His hair was disheveled and his eyes looked heavy and sad, dark circles hanging underneath them. He looked so beautiful.

JJ was wordless as he strode towards you, his arms out as he finally held you lightly in his arms.

“I need you to hold me tighter, Jayje, please.” “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“*Please.”

The blond responded by just holding you tighter against him, one hand around your waist and the other supporting the back of your head. You let out a choked sob at the feeling of him around you, this is all you ever wanted, all you ever needed. It was like air was finally rushing through your lungs.

“I’m sorry I was angry, I’m so sorry.”

You just shook your head, unable to speak words as you continued to cry, wordlessly telling him not to apologize, just pulling him impossibly closer.

JJ stumbled a little as you pulled him, “Okay, okay. Let’s sit down.” He said softly, leading you to the outside couch, careful not to loosen his grip on your frame. JJ sat down in the corner and pulled you with him, situating your body between his legs, your arms wrapped around his neck as your head fell to rest in the crook of his neck. JJ’s hand that wasn’t on your waist came to rest on your cheek, his thumb slowly stroking your cheekbone back and forth.

“I’m so scared.” Your voice squeaked through your sobs and hiccups and JJ’s heart shattered, scattering broken pieces at his feet.

“M’not gonna leave you. Promise.”

You didn’t respond as you held up your pinky, signalling for him to hook his around yours, and he did, leaving a sweet kiss on your fingers, then returning his hand to it’s spot on your cheek, holding onto you for dear life. He wanted to find Tyler and kill him himself, even if only for the way you were shaking in his arms, it scared him. He had never seen you this broken before, he didn’t think anybody had, not including Sarah or Kie, but even then the amount was few.

He didn’t want to shush you or tell you everything was okay, because it wasn’t, really. Your abusive step brother was nowhere to be found and he had nearly killed you. It wasn’t okay. So, he let you cry and he held you, letting out an involuntary whine every time your body would tremor and whispering sweet things in your ear, until eventually you fell asleep in his arms, your breathing finally normal.

John B came out the front door when he heard your crying stop, Pope trailing close behind him, and the two leaned on the railing across from JJ.

“I wanna kill him.” JJ said, not looking up from his gaze on you. “Look at her.”

JJ was holding back his own tears now, forcing out a couple coughs to try and cover up his cracking voice. “The way she just broke down, I- I’ve never seen her like this before, guys. She usually has something funny to say, a joke to pull even in the toughest situations but she’s so scared and sad. Fuck, I never want to see her like this again.”

John B and Pope were silent as JJ talked, just listening to their distraught friend.

“I’m not leaving her. Not ‘til that son of a bitch is dead or behind bars for the rest of his life.”

Pope nodded, “I think that’s smart, actually.”

The boys were interrupted when Sarah brought out your bag, holding it out to JJ.

“She needs to change her bandages, they look a mess.”

JJ grabbed the bag and placed it on the ground next him, then turned to you and gently shook you awake, stroking your hair and whispering softly.

“Hey, pretty girl, Gotta get up and change your bandages, okay? They’re all twisted.”

You nodded and stood up, immediately whimpering from losing the extra compression around your ribs and the pain in your head. JJ shot up, fawning over you, offering to carry you to the bathroom. You just shook your head and made your way inside, keeping your eyes on your feet so you wouldn’t make eye contact with Pope or John B.

You made it to the bathroom before JJ did, so you sat on the counter and waited, he must’ve been talking to the boys outside.

“You should’ve said something sooner, Sarah. This could’ve been avoided.” You heard Kie’s voice through the door.

“What? Do you know how mad she would be if I did? She’d never talk to me again.” “At least she’d be safe.” Kie spat.

“Look, I- I didn’t know that was gonna happen, okay-”

“Obviously.” Kie muttered.

“You don’t think I’ve been beating myself up about it all week?”

“You should be beating your-”

“Kie, lay off.” John B’s voice interrupted, followed by the slamming of a bedroom door, and silence.

You frowned at the conversation. This was no one’s fault, no one but Tyler. He’s the scum who did this to you, there was no one else to blame. Kie was angry and looking for someone to pin it on who wasn’t conveniently missing, but it wasn’t fair to Sarah.

JJ entered the room not a moment later, holding your bag with fresh compression wraps and bandages, a nervous smile plastered on his face.

“Let me see.” He said, setting down the bag on the counter next to you.

You had a hesitant look on your face, you knew he meant for you to take off your shirt, and you didn’t want to. After everything-

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” He whispered so softly you almost didn’t hear him. “I just wanna help you, okay? I need to see them so I can help you, baby.”

You nodded and he mirrored the action, slowly bringing his arms forward to pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in just a bra and shorts. JJ didn’t bat an eye at your chest, solely focused on your injuries. He stayed silent while he carefully unwrapped the compression from your ribcage, which was now twisted from your sleeping position. He sucked in through his teeth while he looked at your ribcage, horribly discolored and red from the wrap, leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to your tiny heart tattoo, almost invisible from the bruising.

“Broken?” He asked.

You shrugged. You don’t pay attention when doctors talk, that was Christine’s job.

JJ didn’t acknowledge your answer, just continued his work. He pressed a kiss to each spot he unwrapped, telling you something about how it always made them heal faster.

“Kisses from a handsome man like myself make everything better.” He had said with a playful glint in his eye.

You wanted to smile and the sweetness and pureness of it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

JJ finished and crumpled up the old wraps and bandages before tossing them in the garbage and looking back at you. He looked at you for a moment before reaching his hand out and softly running his fingers over your red scratches. You couldn’t read his expression. You still didn’t know JJ well, having hated him the entire time you’ve known him up until just over a week ago, you were seeing him in a new light, and you couldn’t tell what he was making of all of this.

You told yourself he was probably over this, annoyed that he was having to deal with the beaten down girl in front of him instead of sticking himself into the gorgeous blonde he had wrapped around him at the Boneyard.

He thinks you're ugly and pathetic. Who the fuck scratches themselves?

“These look like they hurt, baby. You gotta stop doing this to yourself.” He said, bringing his blue eyes up to meet yours. “Not that easy.” You rasped back.

JJ sighed and nodded, he of all people knew how not easy it was to quit a coping mechanism. He always hated when Pope or Kiara would try to tell him to just “Stop drinking” or “Stop getting in fights”. It isn't easy when you feel like that’s the one thing that will help you.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said seriously, his eyes full of intensity as he looked at you, the girl he felt so strongly for that he mistook the feeling for hatred.

You scoffed.

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

JJ sighed and looked down before settling himself between your legs, his eyebrows knit together and eyes sharp on yours. “You know.”

“What kinda girl lets this happen to herself, JJ? It’s ugly, I look ugly.” Tears started to build up again and JJ didn’t know what to say.

“Baby, you didn’t let anything happen. This is not on you.”

You shook your head as more tears fell, “You don’t get it, I’m weak.”

JJ just shook his head, “No.”

“Stop disagreeing with me!” You yelled, trying to punch his chest but crying out from the pain in your hands. “I’m weak, I’m pathetic, I’m gross, I’m ugly! He did this to me! He made me this way and now he gets away with it! He gets away-”

You were inconsolable, your words were barely coherent as snot and tears ran down your face. You wanted JJ to agree, tell you you were weak and ugly, you needed to be right. It was comfortable to be right. “I’m right, JJ! Don’t fucking tell me I’m wrong! Why are you lying to me?!”

“Baby-”

“He did this to me! I’ll never feel clean again!”

If JJ’s heart wasn’t fully broken before, it was now. He felt utterly helpless for the first time in his life, completely not knowing what to do. He always had a next move. Even when his dad was beating the shit out of him, even when a kook had him pinned down, face in the sand and barely able to breathe. But now, looking at you, body broken and bruised and lips and eyes red and puffy from crying, choking on your own sobs, JJ felt fucking useless.

“(Y/n), please, breathe, angel.”

You stopped for a second and pushed your hair out of your face, looking at him confused.

“You can let it out, just remember to breathe, okay? You’re gonna panic and scratch yourself again.” His voice was so gentle as his hand lightly squeezed the back of your neck, his other hand softly caressing your thigh.

You just nodded slowly, expecting him to yell at you for your outburst or tell you you’re being childish, but you received the opposite. You began to take deep breaths for JJ, beginning to realize you’d do just about anything to get rid of the heart broken expression on his face.

He took deep breaths with you, placing your hands on his chest and covering them with his own so you could feel the rise and fall and the patter of his heart beat. He gave you a small smile when your breathing settled, and he let you fall into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. “Proud of you, pretty girl. Did so good.”

You whined and pulled away from him, you wanted to see his face, to see the way he was looking at you. JJ’s hands rested on your hips and he gave them a gentle squeeze as you stared at his ocean eyes.

“I wanna kiss you.” You whispered, your hands coming up to cradle the sides of his neck.

JJ shook his head, “Soon, I promise. Okay? But not now.” He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. He couldn’t kiss you while you were torn apart and terrified, he wanted to see the sparkle in your eyes, that striking grin on your cherry painted lips.

He doesn’t want to kiss you.

“Not like this. Not when you feel this way, okay?”

Oh.

You could’ve sworn your heart burst and melted all the way down to your toes. This was a new JJ. Even when he hated you he probably would’ve jumped at the opportunity to do anything with you, shutting up your loud mouth with his own. But now, it’s almost like he’s afraid to break you.

You nodded but stayed silent, finally letting your body rest against his. “I need to talk to the group.”

JJ nodded, helping you off of the counter. His heart squeezed when you intertwined your fingers with his, gently holding on so you wouldn’t hurt your hand further. His heart skipped a beat when you brought your free hand up to hold onto his forearm. You were gonna give him butterflies forever.

The two of you walked outside the bathroom and you saw your friends sitting and waiting for you, and you began to feel nauseous.

Once JJ got you out of the bathroom and onto the couch comfortably, you let go of his hand and he suddenly felt empty. You ran your hands up and down your thighs with anxiety before letting out a small whimper, feeling your body begin to surge with panic as you thought about what you had to tell your friends.

“You’re safe.” JJ whispered, his hands hovering over you like he wasn’t sure what you wanted from him. You looped your arm through his and he brought his hand over to gently rest on your knee, giving you a soft kiss on your temple.

“I wanted to tell you guys this as soon as I knew, but I had to tell you in person and when I got here the emotions were just too much and-”

JJ pulled your hand down from your neck, softly shushing you to stop you from rambling. You hadn’t even realized you were scratching. You took a deep breath and looked at JJ again, waiting for his quick nod before you took the deepest breath of your life and said the words you had been dreading to say all week.

“Tyler killed my mom and sister.”

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420 notes · View notes

writefightandflightclub · 3 years

Note

I really enjoyed your Nathan fluff 🥺 we love this angry peach fuzz king 👑💖 would you ever write him being comforted after having a nightmare? 💕

First of all, LOL @ “angry peach fuzz king” 🤣🤣🤣

Second of all, here you go! 🧡 I will warn you - I think I forgot the fluff a little bit though. It became more hurt / comfort? More angst than expected? It ends nicely though and comfort is given to Nathan - but only after I’ve subjected him to rattling around in his own head and house for a bit.

Through the looking glass (Nathan Bateman x GN!reader)

Summary: Nathan has nightmares after The Incident. After so long alone, he doesn’t realise how badly he needs a little comfort - and maybe he doesn’t believe that he deserves it.

Author’s note: hopefully this isn’t too similar to All Better. I know they both take place post-stabbing, but I tried to give this a different focus. I know I could have made the nightmares based off of anything given the ask, but this timeline / focus seemed most sensible to explore the character.

Warnings: nightmares following traumatic incident (a stabbing); mentions of blood and injury - not graphic. Self-harm (punching the bag until injury); Body horror if you squint (some gruesome descriptions occurring in-dream, but fairly abstract); swearing; implied alcoholism recovery if you squint; mentions of therapy; Nathan mildly injured in fic; reader offering comfort.

Rating: MATURE for themes mentioned above.

GIF: by @santiagogarcia (this whole gifset is magic- check it out + reblog!)

Nathan wakes up breathless, plastered to the covers by a sheen of sweat - and not in a good way. On instinct, or out of habit by now, or maybe somewhere between the two, his palm slides over his body to the site of the wound.

He is so slick that he half-believes he is soaked with dank, deep blood again, until his fingers trace over nothing more than a half-concave, half-ridged scar. The lack of searing pain is the next point of evidence leading him towards an alternative conclusion. He’s not dying (again).

It’s just another gruesome nightmare.

Although… there is nothing “just” about it.

The nightmares are pretty brutal. Brutal enough for him to wake with ragged breaths and a hammering heart, his sheets dampened and coiled up around him. Enough that it takes effort to sift through the layers of terror and distinguish reality.

With what can only be described as a whimper, Nathan swings his legs over the edge of the bed, bringing himself into a seated position and bracing his head in his hands until his racing heart levels.

In his mind, he’s telling himself to be logical about this. That Ava hasn’t truly arrived to finish the job she started; but logic is not the safe haven it used to be.

She could come back.

She’s still out there, somewhere, and Nathan distinctly got the impression, last time, that she was vehemently not a fan of him.

His hand trembling, Nathan reaches for the glass of water by his bedside, glugging it down so eagerly it spills into his bushy beard.

Since the… accident? Malfunction? Functioning just fine, actually? Failed experiment? Greatest achievement known to man? Attempted murder? (Truth be told, Nathan isn’t quite sure what to call it, so he simply calls it The Incident.)

Since The Incident, Ava has begun to regularly visit him in his sleep.

The visitations are not waning with time. In fact, they are happening more often, not less. They are happening more since you moved into the house.

It’s a bad fucking time to have quit drinking.

You’d been sent by the board. Something about Nathan taking “tortured genius” a slice too literally. Something about him being in isolation too long and needing another human around in the compound.

Well, that’s not technically true, is it? The shit all started when he opted to get social, after all.

Fucking Caleb.

Before that, he was doing just fine.

Nathan doesn’t like it at all - having you here. Being watched. Observed. Having someone monitoring his actions. Waiting for him to either fuck up or prove himself.

Ironic really, considering where he kept Ava. The experiments he ran on her.

She’d probably find it poetic, if she could truly understand such a concept.

At the thought of her, Nathan physically shudders, and reaches for an old vest to haphazardly mop the excess sweat from his skin. Then, he balls up a change of clothes and tracks nude to his wet room, feeling relief as the luke warm water sluices over his skin.

He watches himself in the mirror as he stands there naked. It’s not a vanity thing - at least not any longer. These days, he examines the way his form has changed since it happened. He lost some of his muscle and bulk during recovery, whilst unable to exercise, his arms slightly smaller and his abs softer. His stomach a little more rounded.

There’s also the puckered scar, of course - that permanent reminder of where he was skewered through the chest like a piece of kebab meat.

His gaze travels up over his body, until his eyes settle on his still haunted face. He doesn’t have his glasses on, and somewhere between the blurred vision, misted mirror, clouding steam and sluicing water, his reflected face distorts. It transforms - for the briefest of moments - into her.

Still amped with adrenalin from his harsh awakening, this briefest flash sends a surge of panic zipping through Nathan’s chest, his heartbeat racing so hard he can feel the pounding of blood in his ears.

Fuck, he curses, reaching his arms out to brace himself against the shower wall above him, his body trembling and his head dipping down between the cradle of his broad shoulders as his legs threaten to buckle.

He turns the water cold, until it is practically glacial and thundering on to the back of his neck, subduing this spiking heat.

She really did a fucking number on me, didn’t she?

It’s true though.

Ava is haunting him. When he sleeps - and at other times too.

Nathan didn’t know robots could do that. Didn’t know they could spawn ghosts.

Nathan doesn’t believe in ghosts, of course… but he does believe in trauma and its effect on the brain. He at least concedes that it is natural to continue to feel afraid; but this?

Being dogged by the spectre of her taps into Nathan’s deepest insecurities.

After all, there is nothing a genius fears more than doubting his own mind.

Nothing a God fears more than his own mortality.

And the man? Turns out, there is nothing he fears more now, than dying alone.

With a ragged breath, Nathan towels off and pulls on his grey sweatpants, tugging on his black zip-up hoody over his bare chest. And then, keen not to return to his damp, tangled sheets, he tracks towards the kitchen - mainly for want of any more favourable option.

Of course, he had returned to the compound after The Incident. Something about that many fibre optic cables being a bitch to lay down. Sunk cost fallacy and all that - too much already invested.

But it possibly wasn’t the best choice for his recovery.

Nathan has certainly gotten more used to walking down that hallway since he returned from the hospital, and yet he still finds himself holding his breath until he is free of it. Still finds his pace is just a little faster as he passes through. His gaze deliberately averted from that spot.

Once, you’d found him lying in it.

Lying in that exact spot, his body arranged like a crime scene photo, his eyes closed.

Hey, it’s hardly his least healthy coping mechanism, is it?

What in the fuck are you doing, Nathan?

Re-enacting my death, obviously.

Uh-Kay…. A beat. A devious smile. Shall I get some popcorn?

Absurd as it was, he had laughed. Laughed for the first time since it happened, and, with an extended hand, you had helped him up off the floor.

Still, now that he’s alone, he does not dwell in the corridor, colder and darker as it is without your light in it, and he tries not to think about your face or hers as he pads to the kitchen.

When he arrives though, he bypasses it entirely - heading out on to the decking, the crisp night air soothing his hot skin.

He wants to be outside.

There are too many ghosts in his house now.

He has tried to shake it. Tried to desensitise himself to Ava’s face. Spent longer than strictly necessary poring over footage of her.

He built her. Shouldn’t that take the fear out of things? Not to mention the fact Ava’s face was simply a composite of some manipulable nerd’s wank bank browsing history.

Fucking Caleb.

Still, once Nathan had looked her in the eyes and seen a rage that was all too human, things seemed a hell of a lot different.

Nathan crosses to the punchbag on the deck -lit by creeping dawn- on instinct, or out of habit, or maybe some combination of the two, his unease riling him enough to sock some punches at its midsection. Right at the equivalent site of his corporeal puncture.

He punches so hard that the skin on his knuckle splits, but Nathan doesn’t stop. He throws punch after punch until his hands are scathed and bloodied, and a trail of spit hanging from the corner of his mouth. Until he hugs the bag - the closest thing he has to a warm body to hold - and slides down it, coming limply to his knees, wiping his face on his sleeve.

He stays there, dead eyed and still for some time, the pain in his hands raw and singing. Unpleasant, but better. Better than what he was feeling, and worse all at once.

He considers his tired, cumbersome body, and contemplates remaking the world one more time. Uploading his mind into a machine or some shit, so that he doesn’t have to contend with the fragility and failings of his own existence.

He stays there, until some motion in the interior of the compound causes the light and shadows to dance differently over him, and he looks up to see your figure there, cast in a soft halo of yellowed light.

He tips his head up slightly, opening his mouth as though he might cry out to you for help, but no sound comes out - only a thin, dry croak.

So, instead, Nathan watches you for a moment, moving seamlessly around his kitchen as though it is your own. Maybe it is - more yours than his now.

Observing you like this, through the tall, cinematic windows, it is as though he peers in on another world entirely. Something less resembling a nightmare.

Lighter than that. Something more like a good dream, albeit a good dream that Nathan cannot be part of. One he can only ever watch, from the outside looking in, always fated as he is to be on the other side of the glass.

Truth be told, you haunt him too. You represent everything he could have and yet doesn’t deserve.

You appear in his nightmares and his dreams, in various terrifying and beautiful incarnations. Many variations of which his therapist would have a field day with, he’s sure - or, she would, if he’d ever fucking call her.

When you first arrived here, he was plagued by grotesque visions of you. Grotesque visions of the skin being peeled back from your body. Sometimes, circuitry beneath, and other times, muscle and bone. Sometimes, Ava’s face was buried beneath the chilling slip of your fleshy mask.

Sometimes it is a better dream. Sometimes you save him. Sometimes he saves you.

Sometimes it is a good dream. Ava isn’t there at all. But the good dreams never seem to last for long.

Sometimes you kill him, and sometimes...

The glass door slides open.

“Reenacting your own death again, are you?” you tease, though not unkindly, interrupting the spiral of Nathan’s incessant thoughts.

A lump forming instantly in his throat, Nathan swallows thickly, and looks up at you helplessly with a thin, joyless smile. He snorts as though it’s funny, but it really isn’t. “Over and fucking over.”

You nod once, and, without hesitation, you extend your hand towards him. Your gaze cuts through him as you search his face and he feels suddenly see-through, as if he’s about to be hit with some Shyamalan-esque twist. Was he the ghost all along? Did he die here after all?

If so, is this purgatory because Ava is here too, or heaven, because you are?

Christ. So fucking schmaltzy, Bateman.

After hesitating, Nathan takes your hand and you yank him to his feet, drawing him inside, through the looking glass.

The room seems warm on the other side. It feels… safe.

“What happened?” you ask, as you look down at your joined hands, your thumb painting a smear of red across his split knuckles.

You mean now. What happened now, but Nathan’s mind harks back further than that. In his mind, everything is connected. Every thing threaded to another. This one smear of blood to that weeping flower of red.

The thought -the thoughts, all of them- halt him in place, his feet firmly planting on the ground. Nathan’s hand clenches tightly around yours as though it is a lifeline, as he is cast adrift on this familiar crimson tide, his face growing increasingly angular and stern.

“She...” He swallows, unable to complete that precise thought, his eyes dropping down to his feet.

You turn your body towards Nathan as he croaks, still not letting go.

Your eyes flitting around his face, attempting to search his eyes, you tentatively step closer, sliding your palms slowly over his tense shoulders, feeling them rise with an uneven, stuttered breath as you do so.

He’s so tired. He’s so very, very tired.

And it happens all at once on the exhale.

Suddenly, your arms are tugging him closer, and his face is contorting as a violent smattering of tears beads in his long lashes. You are encasing his body in your embrace and rubbing circles into his back as his buzzed head sags all too willingly toward the junction of your shoulder, your fingers splaying along the smooth flesh at the nape of his neck and pads dancing over the gentle prickle of his hair. You are shushing and soothing and reassuring and squeezing and smoothing and cradling and Nathan can feel it. Can feel his heart race in his chest and…

Finally.

Finally, his heart is not pounding because he is reliving his death.

It is pounding because he feels alive again.

When was the last time he cried, even? The last time someone really hugged him? He doesn’t remember the last time. The serendipitous combination of Nathan willing to be vulnerable, and another being willing to hold space for his pain is an all too rare thing.

There’s a reason -or several - he’s so emotionally constipated, after all.

Fuck. I’m taking a huge emotional shit right now.

Nathan remains in the welcome circumference of your arms longer than is strictly necessary - until the tear trails over the bridge of his nose begin to feel cloying. Until his breaths steady, and until his thoughts and ego creep back in. Until he notices the way his hands are clasped at your waist like claws, fingers sinking into your softness, and he thinks to release you.

Then, he leans away, a weight on his brow making his expression stern.

He waits for you to judge him, another swallow trailing thickly down his throat.

However, your eyes are kind and level, dancing with soft concern. Not with judgement or satisfaction or pity, or with anything he fears.

It is refreshing not to feel so afraid.

Finally.

“She…” Nathan begins again, finally finding courage. All at once his eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. “She fucking stabbed me.”

You take his words in. You listen.

His “reveal” is simple. Plain and factual. A little indignant. Kinda salty. It’s not overly emotional, or articulate.

But it is enough.

Your eyes narrow, and you nod slowly, trying to understand the true meaning beneath his words.

You even reach up to cup Nathan’s face, his springy beard a cushion beneath your gentle palm as you hold him. “Yeah, genius,” you tease, with a tentative, lopsided smile, dropping your arm all too suddenly, perhaps as you catch yourself. “I got that from context.”

In response, Nathan chucks air from between his teeth, bringing his hand up to comb through his beard - perhaps to obscure his involuntary smile, or perhaps chasing your tender touch, the impression of it left warm on his cheek.

As he brings his hand up, your brows draw together, and you hook his bloodied paw delicately in yours, examining the wound, and leading him gingerly across to the couch as though his whole being might be hurting along with it.

It is.

You order him to stay put while you fetch the first aid kit, and then, in stages, Nathan watches you with fascination as you painstakingly clean and tend to his wounds, without ever being asked to.

He watches you carefully swipe the angry red away from his skin, and, to his overactive mind, it’s all connected. This red is one and the same with the flower of blooming red from The Incident.

Ava hurt him then, and she is hurting him now too.

And you…

“Going to tell the board about this?” Nathan asks, his voice weak and scuffed.

You search his eyes, holding your words back for a moment before answering. Then, you launch them on a big breath. “Fuck the board, Nathan. I told those assholes to stick it.”

Nathan blinks in confusion, shaking his head, his hand flourishing emphatically through the air. “Then… what the fuck are you still doing in my house?”

“Well. I’m… here for you,” you admit, sucking in air through your teeth, your voice shrinking. “If you want that.”

Well, that’s news to him.

Welcome news, perhaps?

You’re not watching him at all, are you? Not observing. Not asking him to evidence his humanity. Not waiting to see whether he fucks up or proves himself.

Instead, you’re seeing him. You’re seeing him and you’re not running.

Nathan had begun to think that maybe he was the nightmare. He’d begun to think he might always be haunted.

Always alone. That he might die that way; again.

And now, here you are.

Nathan thinks about that. He could so easily revert to his old ways, in this moment. Of pride and ego and stubborn independence.

But, perhaps those assholes from the board got a few things right - he’ll admit.

Maybe he had been in isolation too long. Maybe he didn’t need to take “tortured genius” quite so literally.

And so, Nathan almost protests. Almost rejects your presence and your comfort and pushes you away. But the truth is, he’s just so… tired. He’s had so many nightmares, and this time, he’d like to be on the other side of the glass. He’d like to step into that dream.

Nathan takes a deep breath, and releases on the exhale. Releases more than air.

He slowly, ever so slowly, shifts towards you on the couch, angling his body until he can safely dip his head towards your lap, his nose pointed in towards your abdomen and his knees curling around you.

“Th.. this okay?” he asks weakly.

You throw your splayed hands up into the air in surprise as the weight of Nathan settles there, but as he curls his arms around your middle and shuffles closer, you ease into it. You snake your fingers in intricate caresses over his head and neck and shoulders.

“Yeah, Nathan. This is okay,” you soothe gently, voice taut with emotion.

You comfort him.

And finally, Nathan does not need to peel your skin back to know what’s underneath.

He knows you’re not a robot, and that, as your kind touch finds him corporeal, that he is not a ghost.

He closes his eyes. And this time, when he next wakes, he knows that whether the dream is bad or better or good, it doesn’t matter. Because you will be there with him.

He wants you with him.

It’s not at all natural to him, to have you around. For the longest time, he didn’t like it. It didn’t come instinctually, and he has formed no familiar habits.

It isn’t easy - he doesn’t make it easy.

But he wants it to be.

And, in your arms, he can finally dream that it will all work out. What’s more; he can dream he deserves it, too.

#Nathan Bateman #Nathan Bateman x reader #Oscar Isaac #ex machina

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