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mitfloya · 3 months

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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫

pairings. Xavier x gn!reader

wc. 1K

synopsis. Xavier's unwavering obsession with you transcends the boundaries of time and space. No matter how vast the universe may be, he is determined to find you in every lifetime. With an unyielding determination, he is willing to traverse the furthest reaches, even to the edge of the universe, just to ensure that you are by his side. Any who dare to come between you will be swiftly dealt with, for in Xavier's eyes, you are destined to be together and he will stop at nothing to protect that bond.

warnings. The following content contains elements of obsessive behavior, yandere thoughts, stalking, possessive behavior, and may include poorly written narratives. Reader is referred to as 'you'. Proceed with caution, as this writing may be unsettling or uncomfortable for some individuals.

a/n. In the next week I'll be planning to make my first fic and it will be a yandere themed and planning a big project on my AO3 acc later, also I'm currently busy with making c.ai hsr angsty bots and fluff themed LaDS bots. Be sure to check my fic or bots later! Grab some snacks and I hope you enjoy reading this hc ♡

♡ Please reblog and comment on this post are much, much appreciated ♡

Don't be fooled by his unassuming appearance, for you never know what lies behind that innocent and sunshine-filled face of his.

If you thought Zayne was the hardest to read, then you're wrong.

At first glance, he appears like any regular civilian, hiding his true nature behind a carefully constructed facade. He avoids discussing his background, creating an air of mystery around him.

As time passes and you both continue to cross paths, Xavier's presence in your life becomes more than just coincidence. The moments spent together, the shared laughter, and the mutual support Xavier effortlessly establishes a friendship that feels natural and authentic.

As the bond between you strengthens, Xavier's presence becomes a source of comfort and solace. His unwavering dedication to your well-being is evident in the small gestures of kindness, the thoughtful words, and the unwavering support he provides.

The nicest guy you’ve ever met, he is always there to lend a helping hand, whether it's assisting you with your own challenges or guiding you through difficult situations. His genuine care and concern for your well-being are evident in every interaction, as he goes above and beyond to ensure your happiness and safety.

So how can you ever suspect anything weird when he spends his time reading and sleeping all the time? While he may possess formidable fighting skills and experience, his gentle nature and soothing presence overshadow any doubts that may arise.

Xavier's aura alone brings you comfort, lulling you into a sense of security that makes it nearly impossible to question his motives.

Even if he is physically out of reach, Xavier constantly assures you that he is by your side.

He makes it clear that all you need to do is call for him, and he will come to you, no matter the distance or the obstacles. It is as if he has sworn an unbreakable oath to be your loyal knight, ready to protect and support you at all costs.

In Xavier's eyes, you are the center of his universe, the one person who holds the key to his heart. He sees himself as your guardian, ready to sacrifice anything and everything to ensure your well-being.

Thus why falling for him was easy.

Too easy that you didn’t realize you have fallen into the depths of his twisted love.

Xavier possesses an uncanny ability to blend into society seamlessly, making it nearly impossible for others to suspect his true nature.

From the moment you first encountered Xavier, there was a cosmic force that bound you together, like star-crossed lovers fated to meet repeatedly. Even amidst chaos and unfortunate circumstances, Xavier always finds his way to your side, just as he promised long ago.

It was not cosmic force or fate, it was all his doings.

Death may be your constant companion, but Xavier is your eternal lover. No entity, not even a deity, can come between the inseparable bond that exists between you. Death is merely a phase, he will find you in another life.

From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he knew that you were meant to be his. He firmly believes that your destinies are entwined, that you were never meant for anyone else, and he will go to great lengths to ensure that no one else lays claim to your heart.

To Xavier, you are the sole focus of his existence. Xavier's devotion knows no boundaries, as he is willing to sacrifice anything and anyone to ensure your safety and happiness.

Why do you think he goes extra lengths to provide you with everything? Because he loves you.

Was it a coincidence that he was your neighbor? Of course not!

Every action he takes, every sacrifice he makes, is fueled by a love that surpasses all reason.

He meticulously plans your encounters, orchestrating seemingly random meetings to further deepen the illusion of coincidence.

He has a network of informants and spies who provide him with information about you. He has carefully cultivated relationships with people in your life, gaining their trust and loyalty. These individuals unknowingly feed him information, allowing him to stay one step closer to you at all times.

He lives in the shadows, unseen and unnoticed, but his presence is always felt. He knows your routines, your habits, your deepest fears and desires. His knowledge of you is intimate, as if he has studied every minute detail of your existence.

Would he sacrifice himself for you to continue to live? Without hesitation. To Xavier, your life is the ultimate prize, and he would gladly lay down his own to ensure your survival.

Xavier's perception of the world is warped by his obsession, blurring the lines between what is real and what he desires to be real. He sees you as his possession, his soulmate, his reason for existence.

Time and fate will always be his obstacle as they’re conspiring against his absurd ideas. However, he refuses to be content with mere obsessions or imaginations; he wants you and him to become a reality.

In the early stages, even before being in a relationship, Xavier exhibits subtle signs of jealousy. His protective nature, while initially endearing, can become suffocating as the relationship progresses.

Once you are officially together, his jealousy becomes more pronounced and dangerous, leading to harm or even death for those who dare to steal you away.

No need to check on the news headline. Lifeless bodies scattered like fallen leaves, has become all too common, it’s the cause of wanderer has been ramping up lately, angel.

It was partially not the cause of wanderers.

Even in the face of your defiance, you are acutely aware of the futility of your resistance. He will abduct you, whisking you away to a distant planet, far beyond the reach of prying eyes from the world.

In this alternate reality, you are left with no choice but to accept your fate. The notion of escape becomes nothing more than a distant dream.

The stars become witnesses to your eternal entwining, as the universe itself seems to acknowledge the dark and twisted love that binds you both.

#love and deep space #love and deepspace #love and deepspace headcanons #yandere love and deepspace #yandere hcs #xavier love and deepspace #xavier #shen xinghui #yandere xavier #yandere xavier x reader #yandere xavier x you #yandere xavier x yn #xavier x reader #xavier x you #xavier x y/n #dividers by cafekitsune

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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chosaya · 8 months

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THE FIGHTER’S PURSUIT ! | 01

synopsis: first day’s never go as planned, especially meeting one of the most feared criminal fighter yet.

wc:2.5k

warnings: some minor injuries,fighting, mature scenes and etc.

taglist form

10:30 PM

There is no doubt that being assigned to catch criminals was one of the toughest assignments you had ever worked on as you started your first day underground which was far harder than you could have ever imagined.

The station rooms for some of the criminals were designed based on their level of fighting skill and the potential danger they could potentially pose to others.

A few pieces of information were provided to you about some of the criminals, but not a lot, since some of them are on the run and do not want to be caught. You were given a small file with their main information, and your eyes scanned over at the paper attached to it as well as placing it in the pocket of your shirt before checking over your surdorings and making your way to the arena.

In the dimly-lit corridors of the underground arena as you walk through the dimly-lit corridors of the underground arena, you can hear faint cheers coming from all the corners, and you can smell the sweat and fierce blood in the air as you pass around one of its fighters as you walk through the dimly-lit corridors of the underground arena.

When you pass by one of them without making eye contact with them, you can hear him chuckling deeply as his lips twitch into a menacing grin as you pass by without making eye contact with him. It was impossible to ignore their stares, so as you hear one of them chuckle, you swallow hard while trying to avoid their gazes.

“You don’t belong here.” one of them spat out behind you. As you rushed through a set of doors, you heard a bunch of criminals muttering behind you and leaning toward the fighting ring, all the color in your face almost drained from your face when you saw a bunch of criminals crowding the exits or fighting inside the fighting ring, within earshot of you.

You were aware that you were not supposed to be here.

As soon as the referee blew the whistle and a timeout was declared for the fighters in the boxing ring, they slumped in their corners of the arena, heavily exhausted, and drank their water before making their way to the locker room. During their last match, their coach advised them to go to the infirmary before the second match began.

While you tried to keep your gaze away from the crowd, you noticed a few familiar faces and recognized a few people who were wanted by the police but never found.

You didn't want to be seen by the criminals lurking in the stands. As your stomach steadied in a knot, the feeling of how dangerous they were began to fill you. There was no telling what would be done if they saw you.

The audience split up out of their seats for the intermission, and you could see the crowd now splitting up as you began making your way into the large gathering of people. As you were desperately running from the arena as the darkness was coming closer by the minute, little

did you know that there was someone intently watching your every move from a distance as you were desperately fleeing.

The subtle tension in his body and his eyebrows knitted together in utter discomfort, his piercing green eyes never once faltered from your figure, even as you made futile attempts to seamlessly blend in with the crowd in an effort to evade detection.

However, he was not about to let you slip away so easily.

As you frantically moved through the tightly packed crowd, desperately trying to carve a path for yourself, the pursuer trailed closely behind. The size of the crowd made it increasingly challenging for you to navigate and locate an escape route, which made your breath grow shallower with each passing second.

A sense of panic had begun to set in, and your heart was pounding in your chest as the panic intensified your desire to find a way out before it was too late.

After finally escaping from the crowd, you realized there were more criminals around you than you had ever seen before. As you slipped your hoodie over your head, you were about to reach the entrance when you were yanked back by someone, causing you to fall back down on the floor, groaning in agony.

Despite the anger that sparked inside of you, you silently cursed to yourself before pulling yourself up once more, frustrated about having to yell at that person, when your eyes widened as you were now faced with one of the menacing criminal yet was standing in front of you with his arms crossed over his muscular body, narrowing his gaze towards yours.

There he was the one and only.

Toji Fushiguro.

In his teenage years, Toji was regarded as having excellent fighting skills, and as a result of his excellent fighting skills, he was among the top students in his school because of his excellent fighting skills and boxing skills, as well as his attractiveness. His name is known around the world as one of the top fighters in the underground ring where criminals go to fight and the ring remains a secret until today.

It's typical for criminals to come down here to blow off steam and make a little extra cash through gambling or fighting, but that wasn't the case for him. If he had his opponents scared, then he would be at ease with handling them, and anyone trying to cross him would be in for a rude awakening as long as they did not cross him.

As far as his case is concerned, not so much. His intention was not only to live to make people fear him, but also to instill a sense of terror in anyone who dared to cross paths with him. It was a truly awe-inspiring sight to stare straight into the eyes of a tall, muscular man with mid-length straight black hair that reached down to his ears.

And not to mention, his face and hands were always covered in dried up blood, leaving a chilling imprint on anyone who gazed upon him. That ice-cold glare of his was enough to freeze anyone on sight, sending shivers down their spines.

It was indeed a stroke of great fortune to capture his interest, especially considering the fact that he rarely associated himself with individuals like this. Despite the fact that his hands were scarred and bloated after every fight he engaged in, he still chose to involve himself with someone like this, albeit on rare occasions.

When it comes to criminals, he was without a doubt the worst.

The moment he spoke up, he leaned down towards your figure in order to get a better look at you. He raised an eyebrow at your figure, interrupting your train of thought with a bored expression painted all over his face, raising your chin a few inches towards his face.

It left you with a slight ingrained fear in your soul as he did this. Your eyes grew wider, your hairs on the back of your neck stood up and your hands started shaking because he did this, but his touch was gentle in a way that you had never expected it to be.

Taking a deep breath, closing your eyes, and inhaling deeply, you attempt to calm your racing heart as you breathe in a deep attempt to sooth its racing beat. In exhaling, as the sigh escapes your lips, your body is filled with a wave of relief as you take a deep breath into your lungs.

“Who are you?” There was no mistaking his assertive tone, he spoke in a way that you could feel the breath tickling your ear as he did this, which encouraged you to build up your courage before speaking back to him.

“Y/n.” you replied You appeared to be still shaken by the way things turned out just a few minutes ago, so you responded calmly and as if nothing had happened. It quickly became quiet once you began speaking, causing him to chuckle to himself, releasing the grip on your face before standing up straight once again after releasing his grip on it.

“So, Are you some hotshot investigator here to catch me?." His slight smug grin-like expression appears on Toji's face before his cocky demeanor is turned into a slightly frustrated one in front of your eyes, making your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach fearing of saying the wrong thing, you chew on your bottom lip for a moment but you can’t blow your cover no matter what.

“No,can’t a woman be curious about this place?.” You replied stepping back a few paces for safety only out of caution not being aware of what the cable was for or not wanting to find out what it was, you weren't armed either.

The police officers did not want you to draw attention to yourself nor draw attention to the criminals, nor did they want you to get injured or get into trouble in any way. You were on a mission to capture these criminals without being noticed by anyone whatsoever and they were not willing to risk you getting caught.

“No, it's strange to see a girl so interested in a place like this. It’s basically a criminal convention.” He replies bluntly, as he turned his back to you, that same bored expression on his face remained on his face for a long moment and you stood there for a moment still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

“I see, what other hobbies do you guys have if you guys leave the ring?” you speak up again in an attempt to lighten the mood, trying your best to ignore the criminal activity around every corner you turn as you walk alongside him.

“Well.” He pauses for a moment and the right words he is about to say dwindle for a moment before clearing his throat before speaking again as he continues to speak.“It depends on the person, really cash and nothing more. Some have other aspirations..”

“Other aspirations? hm..’ You repeat to yourself, thinking of other things you might have forgotten there might be, leaning your back against the wall, you try to wrap your head around it, while you are also questioning yourself at the same time, as if you are trying to find some clues within his words that will guide you to catching one of them.

“If you must know, many want power or revenge but it’s always to gain something for themselves really.” As Toji stared at you, he noticed that your muscles stiffened up for a short period of time before relaxing again as you pushed yourself to stand up straight once more.

Toji turns back towards you before signaling you to follow him to another set of double doors in the place.

As he pushed up the door into the room, you braced yourself for the worst possible outcome, but instead you found yourself in an airy lounge and lounge bar. The interiors of the room were dominated by shades of navy blue, along with a long table that wrapped around the bar. It was beautiful.

He looked at you with a curious expression, trying to figure out who you were and why you were in the same boxing ring as him. He was intrigued by your presence and was curious to know more about you. He was also suspicious of your identity, wondering if you were really who you said you were.

pushing his doubts to rest, he decided to put them aside for the moment and relax.

For now..

You sit down at a bar table as toji pulls out a shaker and some expensive liquor from behind the bar stand in order to prepare two cocktails, which are mixed together and then poured into two glasses. He sat the glass in front of you before drinking himself, leaning against the counter top and creaking it slightly as he sipped his drink.

You nervously took a sip from the glass, the strong taste of whiskey burning your throat as it goes down. He smiled as he watched you, noting how you reacted to the drink. He knew what he was doing, as he was no amateur when it came to making drinks. He was a master of it, and he knew it.

He offered you another drink, but you hesitated. You knew that he was a criminal, and although his drinks were good, you didn't want to get too comfortable around him.

After finishing your drink, you placed the glass on the dish rack and he began to trace his fingers along the rim of the glass. Despite his criminal past, he seemed genuinely happy for the company. However, he still kept his guard up, not wanting to let his guard down too easily.

You can feel the weight of the stare of the other criminals in the room, but when they look at him, all they see is the violent side of him. You, however, have seen a different side to him - a softer, more caring side that he rarely shows to anyone else.

Suddenly the pa speaker interrupted your conversation with toji telling them as the next fighting match is about to begin for them and to meet back in the arena now.

Toji stood up from the bar stools , looking at you with a determined expression. "We'll finish this conversation late,sweetheart" he teasingly said before turning and hurrying off with the other criminals. You watched them go, feeling a strange mixture of uneasiness and worry as they disappeared into the locker room,leaving you in the empty bar by yourself.

You soon get up and leave the bar of the arena making your way to the exit but this time bumping into another criminal who let out a grunt when you crashed into him and got up quickly before he had the chance to yell at you.

You quickly apologize and keep walking, but you can feel his eyes on you as you make your way out of the arena. You can't help but be reminded of why you're here in the first place and the consequences of getting caught. You pick up your pace, eager to get out of the arena before anything else happens.

Today just isn’t your day is it?.

Your paper filled with information all the criminals' names falls out of your pocket as you run off and make it out of the arena safely. No realize you left the paper behind when you fell into yet another criminal, you're just relieved that you're finally safe and not harmed.

But you failed to realize, the criminal known as choso kamo found the paper. Things are about to get a lot more interesting for you.

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grippingbeskar · 1 year

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Ok so, i ADORE your writing and i wanted to submit a request for a joel miller x reader fic ^^

Specifically its the readers first time out of the qz since 2004, she snuck out on her own and was found by joel in the woods. She slightly pisses him off because she can be somewhat annoying but he eventually falls for her! You can go anywhere you want with it but please add that she calls joel “cowboy” bc i find that to be so cute

warnings: swearing, slight mention of past violence

a/n: okay this isn’t edited but i wrote it all in one go cause it’s so damn cute. i couldn’t help it. thank you for sending this in!!! i hope you like it! clearly i needed a lil fluff now that there’s no more tlou eps so i hope it’s what u wanted 😭

“You’re gonna get yourself killed.” Joel’s gruff voice growls from behind you. “Stop moving.”

“Stop talking! You’ll scare it!” You whisper-yell back, scootching your body forward on the rock. “Oh, you have to come down here.”

“I’m not gettin’ anywhere near that thing.” Joel huffs, and you roll your eyes, unable to bother with a reply when you can see what you can in front of you.

A bear. A giant, fluffy, brown bear. Standing on its hind legs, clawing at a tree trying to get… something down off the branch. It’s the first time you’ve seen a bear. The first time you’ve seen anything alive bigger than a dog. It’s massive.

“Joel, come on! Look at how adorable it is!” As much as he complains, you can hear him groan as he leans down, knees cracking and breath puffing out in clouds. He eventually crawls up next to you, the broad length of his body pressing against your side on the narrow face of the rock.

The bear was now rubbing its back on the newly scratched bark, roaring quietly as it yawns. The sun was shining seamlessly through the trees, and the forest was just starting to lose the heavy layer of snow that had built up over the winter. Warmth flooded your body from your toes to your ears, but you couldn’t figure out if it was the rising sun or the way Joel had sidled up a little closer, craning his neck so he could see, too.

He leans to the right, squinting into the open forest, and yes— it was definitely just Joel making you sweat.

“See? Cool, right?” You say softly, keeping your eyes on Joel’s reaction. It had taken so long for him to speak to you in any capacity, let alone indulging your curiosity with something like this. You were still hesitant to upset him, or piss him off, but he didn’t seem to be either of these things much anymore. At least, not directed at you.

“Yeah, alright. It’s pretty cool.” He admits, watching as the bear roars a little louder. All of a sudden, three tiny balls of fluff crawl out of a hollow log and begin to roll around in the melting snow.

Your face lights up, you can tell it does. Your grin stretches across your face embarrassingly big, but— “Oh my god. Baby bears. Freakin’ baby bears, Joel!”

He laughs quietly, and you can feel his eyes on you, but you don’t dare move. Even though him staring at you burns you enough you’d swear it wasn’t winter, you keep your eyes forward. The last thing you want to do is scare him off— not when he’s the closest he’s ever been.

You know he wouldn’t feel the same, but it was impossible not to have some kind of feeling for him. He was practically a knight in shining armour to you— without him, you would of died the day you snuck out of the QZ. But there he was, scowling and buried under layers of warmth, layers he’d reluctantly shared with you until you could feel your fingers again. He’d saved you, and you had fawned over him ever since.

He was definitely not on the same page— it was only in the last few months that he’d learned to tolerate you, and somehow it was only making your crush worse. Those famous scowls turned to smirks and hidden smiles, and harsh words melted away into something like fondness. You could hear the care behind the orders he gave you. “Don’t do that” shifted into “Its not safe.” “Shut up” was whispered into a soft “Shh. Listen.”

It might not seem like a lot, but in terms of Joel, it was miles.

The bears continued to roll around, play-fighting while their mother wandered further over to the rushing lake. You shivered as the sun disappeared behind the clouds, and Joel’s hand tugged at your jacket.

“Come on. We gotta get moving.” You sighed, but still smiled as the smallest of the bears attempted to climb a tree, and fell off with a ‘plop’ into the snow. “You’ll be warmer if we’re moving.”

“Just a little longer. Look at him!” The bears continue to fight their way up the tree unsuccessfully, and you wait for Joel to move away. You silently beg him not to, and maybe it works, because he keeps still. No, not still.

Blink and you miss it, but you don’t. You feel him move— just an inch, but he comes closer to you. Touching you all down your side. It stops your shivering, and you find it very, very hard to focus on the bears.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Just a little longer. Look at him!” You laugh lightly, your head facing forward in the direction of the bears. Joel can’t take his eyes off you, no matter how cute some bears might be. It was humiliating. He couldn’t take his eyes off you for a second, not when you were this close, smiling and laughing. You made him feel… good. Warm. Made him forget where he was for a second. It was dangerous and stupid, but he still didn’t take his eyes off you.

He moved closer under the guise of keeping you warm, but he noticed the way you hid your face from him. He always noticed. He wasnt game enough to think you wanted him like that, but he knew he had some kind of effect on you. You didn’t want him, but you needed him. He kept you safe, and he thinks that after all this time you, for some god damn reason, cared about him.

He couldn’t tell you why. He was a dick to you ever since he found you. Sure, he’d pulled you out of the snow and warmed you up for three days. Fed you boiled soup and water and made sure you didn’t choke, but he made sure you paid for it when you woke up. He was colder than the snow outside, sometimes straight up ignoring you when you asked him dumb questions.

He felt guilty now, thinking back, but he was in a bad place. It was dark without you, but since you’d wormed your way into his heart, he could hardly remember what it was like not to have you around. He sure wouldn’t be crammed on a rock watching bears roll around in snow, but he couldn’t think of another place he’d want to be.

“You’re still cold.” Joel says after a while, noticing the way your hands clench and unclench under your gloves. It’s something you’ve done to warm up your fingertips since he’d found you. Your hands get cold first.

“No, I’m not.” You say, eyelashes fluttering rapidly to blink away the fallen snow. “Okay, I am. But where are you gonna see something like this again?!”

“The woods. Where we are gonna walk through for the next two days.” Joel says, and though you stop smiling, you finally turn to look at him. You shake your head, rolling your eyes.

“You cannot tell me that is not the fucking cutest thing you have ever seen. They are rolling around in little balls, Joel. Tiny bears rolling around in the snow!” Your hand grabs his jacket, and he freezes up. You’ve touched him only a few times— times he thinks of far too often, but it still makes him feel like a deer in the damn headlights.

“It’s adorable. Can we move now?” You roll your eyes again, but for some reason you always smile at him after. Like he’s funny or something.

“Fine, but you’re missing out, cowboy.”

“I’m not a cowboy.” He says between huffs as he drags himself upright. He offers you a hand, brushing off the snow from his jacket with the other. You take it, and a rush of heat nearly melts the snow on his head.

“You wore that hat. You’re a cowboy.”

“I wore that one time.” He reminds you to no avail, and you laugh, walking in line next to him.

“It looked good! I think you should lean into it. You got the whole accent going on, and the chivalry act. It’s a winner!” You tuck your arms into the straps of your backpack, your shoulders brushing his. He doesn’t move away.

“Chivalry, huh?”

“You did save my life. Multiple times. And taught me how to shoot a gun.” He scoffs. You thought that was chivalry? Fuck, if only you knew how he’d really treat a woman— how he’d treat you if you aren’t stuck out in these woods.

“Yeah, perfect first date. Learn how to shoot a rusty old rifle.” Joel jokes, and then feels you stop, boots crunching in the snow.

“That was a date?” Wide eyed, you stare up at him, the space between you feeling further than ever and way too close.

“What… I didn’t mean it like—“Joel sighs, taking a step forward. “Thats not what I meant.”

“Oh. Yeah, I knew that.” You shake your head, snow falling off your beanie. It nearly comes loose, and when you walk up next to him, Joel moves before he can think.

He can’t stand that little look in your eye, the one he used to see all the time. It was hurt— hurt caused by him. You’d had enough of that in your life. Joel wasn’t going to be the cause of it anymore. Not when you were the woman he— the woman he cared about.

His hands tug lightly on the sides of your beanie, and you still under him. Your eyes watch him cautiously as he adjusts it on your head and over your ears, and then lets his hands linger. They wander down, still gloved, along your cheeks, wiping away the snowflakes resting on your cheeks. He takes in a breath, and his chest touches yours. When you smile softly, he feels sucker punched, and his hands slowly fall from your face.

“I didn’t mean that.” Joel says in the same low tone he uses when you talk at night, like it’s a secret.

“The date, or the backtracking?” You were still smiling, and it cut Joel up like a blunt knife was searing into his heart. You were fucking painful, but he yearned for it.

“The… both. That— at the time, that wasn’t a date. But that’s not sayin’ I wouldn’t take you on one.” Your face was full of surprise— eyebrows raised and mouth agape. “One with less guns.”

“Joel…” You breathe, and he wishes he kept his hands on your face.

He lets the confession sit, unsure of what to do with himself now he’s put it out there. He’s got two days alone with you in these woods before you reach Tommy, and he’s fucked if he’s gotta deal with your rejection—

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with less guns.” You say, clearing the distance between you and him in three bounding steps. “I’m excited to see what you come up with, then.”

“You, uh—“

“Though I am expecting you to break out the hat. I want the full experience.” He can hear the smile in your voice, his head dropping down so you can’t see his matching one.

“I’ll make sure I do that, darlin’.” Your breath hitches, and it’s your turn to hide from him.

You both keep walking, though Joel feels himself pressing closer and closer. His heart is racing, and he’s half worried he’s going to pass out, his vision a little blurry. Did he just ask you out? He feels like he missed it. Just blacked out and someone else took over. Not just that, but he thinks you might have just said yes.

“You do look good in that hat. I was serious.” You admit, staring at your boots. Joel feels his face get hot, unfamiliar territory making his hands shake.

“You’re insane.” He manages, and links his hand with yours.

“Whatever you say, cowboy.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel x you #joel x y/n #tlou #tlou joel #joel miller fic #joel miller #joel miller fluff

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partycatty · 1 month

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older!johnny cage > listen up

you just can't seem to follow orders, so johnny explains them loud and clear... :3

warnings: you're a dilf obsessed freak and you get yelled at idk, he's meaner than usual, idk how the military works

[ masterlist ]

• lieutenant cage was, at the best of times, a strong advisor and wise man.

• at his worst of times, he's barking orders at the squad like a pack of dogs, not that you'd complain if he forced you to all fours, if we're all being honest here.

• some bat out of netherrealm must've pissed in his coffee this morning, and johnny was making it everyone's problem by forcibly refreshing everyone on basic commands. you wonder if it was just an excuse for him to yell his frustration away.

• "fall in!" his booming voice startles you from your trance and you're snapped back to your position, you and other recruits standing in front of johnny in dead-still positions.

• "ten-hut!" he calls, and your back snaps straight. you groan to yourself at the sudden movement, and lieutenant cage catches the sound. his head snaps toward you with a scowl. "no complaining or we're here til sundown, is that clear?!"

• "yes, sir!" your voice can only boom as much, far less trained in the art of... yelling at people.

• cage rattles on about something regarding everyone not knowing their lefts and rights, and decides everyone is deserving of a refresher. so, he stands with his hands behind his back.

• "left face!" you pivot instantly, the choir of shuffling around you moves with you like a strict ocean. "right face!" you return to your previous position with your stick-up-your-ass military posture.

• he barks the directions out in rapid succession, the crowd following it seamlessly... except for you. maybe you didn't get enough sleep, or maybe johnny's cruel voice was making you dizzier than the pivoting was. you stumbled over yourself, a beat behind the rest.

• you stood out like a sore thumb as much as you wished to blend in out of embarrassment. your wonky timing was painfully obvious against the crowd, and johnny let out a loud groan, ripping his sunglasses from his face.

• "christ on a bike," he grumbles, uttering your last name. "are you gonna follow orders or sit there like an idiot?"

• your lips shut tight, eyes forward as johnny stomps up, nearly brushing his chest in your face. his breathing stutters, and you fight every urge to not look up into his eyes.

• "you don't know how to listen, do you?" he growls, nearly speaking into the top of your head. "wasting my god damn time."

• "sorry, sir," your voice shrinks in your throat, which apparently deeply offends johnny today.

• his hand flies to your jaw, holding somewhere between your neck and your jaw as he tilts your head up, applying pressure as the sides of your vision blur out.

• "you're gonna speak loud and clear to me when you answer me, is that clear?" his voice teeters between a whisper and growl, eyes darting between yours.

• you wanted to be scared, you wanted to be compliant and listen to his order, but his hand was literally on your neck. this flustered you, embarrassingly easy and words were almost impossible. your vision spaces out, eyes wandering as you try to ground yourself.

• johnny tugs at your face, drawing your attention back. "look at me when i speak to you."

• "yes, sir," you choke out, a little clearer this time.

• his brows furrow for a moment, lip twitching in a dubious expression you'd never seen on his aged face before. "you're gonna be the death of me."

• you don't even get a moment to contemplate his curious choice of words, as his hand pulls away from your face and he spins on his heel, retreating to his previous position.

• he barks that everyone is starting over because of you and a quiet wave of sighs and shuffles heat your face. it was already mortifying to be humiliated in front of your squad, but you were berated by none other than your dilfy work crush... your boss. maybe you could curl up into a ball and die here and now.

• after a few hours of stupid, repetitive training you want to do nothing more than rot in your bed, ignoring the pissed looks of your colleagues. just as you're about the exit the room, a hand shoots out to squeeze at your wrist, nearly dragging you backward from the unexpected force.

• a firm voice states your last name, and you instantly recognize it as your very upset boss. you swallow thickly and try to put on your best neutral expression as you turn to face him.

• "my office," he says, though it doesn't sound like a request and more like a command. "now."

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mk11 #marley writes ☆

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guav · 2 years

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ᥫ᭡ for rindou, manjiro, chifuyu, and souya,

KISS ME WITH YOUR EYES CLOSED!

tokyo revengers characters + types of kisses

𔘓 only warning is they're probably very out of character but who cares!! i had a blast writing them anyway

⠀◉⠀HAITANI RINDOU

the kisses that chase after you

“you’re taking me through roppongi for a date?”

rindou gave no reply, bike soaring past car after car seamlessly. of course he would, just to show off.

the district wasn’t a mystery to you. it’s hard not knowing every nook and cranny, every street and shop, when you’ve been dancing around the youngest haitani for months. endless weeks with your arm looped around his—he’s not yours. every other day with his fingers idly playing with your belt loops—you’re not his.

and yet you wake at every call of his. phone chimes at the midst of witching hours quickly become your cue to sneak out your window. it’s routine without a label.

“i didn’t think tonight would be the night you confess you’re a table dancer.” no judgment from your end, though an annoyed sigh does leave your companion’s very own soul.

rindou couldn’t be bothered to turn off the engine just yet, slightly considering driving you both off the pier he parked at. “how do you even come up with all that?”

“i’m a psychic.”

he scoffed in response, turning the key to let the engine die. psychic is a stretch, you’re a bother, if anything. “s’that the reason you haven’t turned around yet?”

his words are commands, and you whip your head around. the thought of getting pushed and falling to your death seemed plausible—considering it was rindou who asked you to face the other way. however, such a beautiful landscape would have never crossed your mind. rindou had taken you on a drive to witness the beauty of night.

roppongi sang glowing notes of life below, more alive during the dead of night than when morning dew arises. the district was breathing, and it was alluring by itself.

you barely take note of rindou sneaking behind you, neither do you care when he eggs you forward, trapping you between the railings and his own frame. at this point you wouldn’t care if he actually shoved you, the tall buildings would make for a hell of view as you fell.

“you’ve mentioned you like the place better when it shines,” rindou mused. “thought we could come here together.”

we. although you know he meant it in a literal sense, you linger on the word.

what are we?

you’ve avoided the subject for an eternity. at this point, even ran has given up on trying to steal you from his little brother. it’s been that long.

maybe it’s best left unspoken. maybe you’d rather turn around to face him.

“did i?” he’s impossibly close to you, yet you wrap your arms around his shoulders. c’mere. “since when do you listen to anything i say?”

rindou doesn’t answer, it’s a little concerning. the silence isn’t heavy because there’s no such thing—there’s cars driving past, music blaring, and distant chattering. it’s not awkward because there’s an unspoken agreement. it’s only awkward if you make it awkward.

there’s little space between your bodies, and it lessens as he starts leaning in. his eyes are distant, they’re stuck on your lips. rindou is so close to finally picking the forbidden fruit.

until you turn your head. “maybe i’ll be your bouncer if i get this view every time you have a dancing session.”

for the record, he’s fucking embarrassed. rindou backs away quickly (his arms don’t care for the humiliation, they stay put and keep you in the same spot), the slightest trace of a blush disappearing with the lack of light. “joke’s dead.”

so is his mood, and it’s hilarious. “is it?” you face him once again, taking note of the blonde’s agitation. poor youngest brother, always taking the torment, no matter the context. “i think you could pull it off.”

rindou is sure the window of opportunity is long-gone. he’s certain there’s no way the mood will come back. pulling away and brushing it off would be a good move, but your arms don’t allow him to budge, and in the blink of an eye you’re brushing noses with him again.

the window opens again, it’s so free. he leans in again, tilting to the right. but you tilt a little too much to the left, and your face rests on one of his shoulders instead.

great, for a split second he made out with air.

it’s hard to contain your laughter, you can feel his hands grip your hips with anger. “you got the moves, so i’ve heard—ran says you make funny poses when you’re in a fight.”

after two failed attempts, he comes to a conclusion.

you’re messing with him. you’re playing with rindou haitani, man who’s gone to jail before for murder.

rindou is about done with your antics. he grips your chin, and though the initial force is harsh, it softens. it always does with you, especially when you’re trying to stifle that stupid giggling.

“you think you’re funny.” yeah, yeah you do. “actin’ all dumb, pulling away—is that why your arms are clinging to me?”

“i don’t know what you're talking about,” you lie.

“you a comedian now?” rindou is pressing you impossibly tighter against the railing. “am i laughing?”

you are. “sorry rin, just—you’re too easy to rile up.” he wants nothing more than to wipe that smug grin from your face, you’ve picked up on his facial expressions too well.

“lemme fuckin’ kiss you, damnit.” he muttering mostly to himself, stuck trying to hold your face in place.

but you’re having the time of your life running from him. it’s hilarious hearing the curses slip past the same lips desperately chasing after yours. (he’s not sure he wants to kiss you at all anymore! his patience has long since run out!)

whatever good is left in your soul takes pity on the delinquent. he comes crashing when you finally meet him halfway. it’s messy, and he’s angry. so he doesn’t stop at one kiss, he’s selfish like that. rindou finally got a taste, and the built-up tension demands a thousand more samples.

“was that,” he can only keep away from your lips for a split second. “so fuckin’,” it’s addicting. “hard?”

maybe it wasn’t, maybe you shut him up with another kiss.

⠀◉⠀SANO MANJIRO

the kisses that taste sweet... literally

clearly, you should've known better. in the entire lifetime you've known mikey for, never had the man caved at sharing the tiniest piece of dorayaki in his possession.

you should've known better than to buy two of the cakes and store them in the same bag. the same bag which was now within his greedy claws, leaving you to negotiate (beg would be more fitting) for your rightful share of treats. "you got them for me, though."

a sigh, "i got you one, the other one in the bag is mine."

mikey, mouth full of the treat, tilted his head—a pseudo show of confusion. "nuh-uh, there was only one in the bag." his lips pursed like the liar he is.

"fine, just let me have one bite, you can eat the rest." bargaining is futile, maybe it's time to reconsider your criteria for a boyfriend.

"i'm serious, there's no more dorayaki in the bag."

a pause, followed by manjiro getting tackled to the grass. blonde strands of hair merged with the green under them, shoulders shaking in what could only be described as evil laughter. mad, cruel giggling. the paper bag, forcefully snatched from mikey’s grasp, was indeed empty. only a few crumbs remained as evidence of his crimes.

"how did you even manage to eat it so quickly?" shock elevated your tone into a shriek, heart shattering over the missing dorayaki. "you're like, the worst of the worst!" being a gang leader does not even come close to this level of violation.

mikey's laughter did nothing to mend your loss. careless laughter, teenage glee. under any other circumstances you would’ve loved to capture his happiness in a bottle, to cherish forever. however, the figurative knife he had just plunged in your back made for a hell of a fresh wound.

manjiro sano was now being judged by your fists, feebly striking his chest, shoulder, and chest again. "i'm sorry—ouch—okay, i'm sorry!

he could’ve well struggled against your barrage of punches, but he didn’t. did they hurt? not in the slightest, perhaps you needed this more than he did.

all the profanities leaving your mouth served to fuel mikey's fit of giggles even further. oh, just how would he, filthy criminal, ever make it up to you?

an idea popped into his head. "i can call kenchin and tell him to buy you some on the way."

"i don't want ken's money, i want my dorayaki!"

he rubbed his chin, awaiting another genius idea. "do you want the crumbs, then?"

your jaw dropped at the audacity, "you are a dead man."

before you could further spiral and throw a thousand more insults his way, mikey dove forward, pressing his lips against yours.

foreheads bumped together, and while it hurt for a split second, the sensation was overtaken by the god-sent gift that is chocolate; tiny specks of bread, and the sweetness that is mikey’s embrace made your anger dissipate for a moment.

"see?" he pulled back, sporting a stupid, proud grin. "tastes even better than the actual thing."

"no, no it doesn't," you leaned in for another kiss, anyway.

⠀◉⠀MATSUNO CHIFUYU

the kisses that missed their cue

“it’s foolproof—i start with you as an opening gift,” it’s worth mentioning chifuyu is talking to a stuffed animal on his bed. “then we have dinner, followed by a walk in the park, and then the bridge is the perfect place for a kiss.”

anyone walking into this would likely mark chifuyu down as insane. talking to a heart-patterned bear doesn’t classify as sane people activities. yet, when peke j pops his head from behind the toy, the circumstances change. talking to your cat is a little more excusable.

a meow puts his previous ramble to a stop, though it opens the door to a new one. “you think the button up is too much?”

no, the cat doesn’t have much thought outside of craving treats. “maybe i should just settle on my sweater, but if they get cold, giving them my sweater would be too much of a hassle.”

peke j could not care less. “i’ll take the risk with the button up and a jacket.”

another meow—though this time chifuyu doesn’t bother interpreting it.

his plan was foolproof, it was meant to be.

but no one told him how uncomfortable it would be to ride his bike with such get-up, or how awkward it would be when you went in to hug him and he stuffed the bear in your face by accident. nor did anyone remind him to turn his phone off while having dinner (he was sure to choke takemichi for spamming his messages, crying over a rip on his stupid red and white shirt).

however, the worst comes when a drop of rain falls on your forehead, midway through your stroll.

chifuyu is quick to slide his jacket over your shoulders. the rain isn’t kind enough to spare you another minute before it pours down, and you’re left making a run for shelter.

you know he’s trying his best to keep his composure, but the silent curses slipping past his lips aren’t discrete enough for the rain to mask. it’s evident in the way he clicks his tongue, and furrows his eyebrows.

chifuyu planned the entire evening meticulously, afternoons spent kicking his feet back and forth at all his ideas. all his plans, slowly washing down the drain.

“chifuyu, wait,” he’s damn close to slipping when you come to a sudden halt, arm tugging back to your spot. “look.”

mercy, at last. the drizzle filters through the tree leaves, only allowing a drop or two to slip past the cover. it’s better than nothing, and he’s too drenched to care.

his breathing is erratic. you can already hear the endless apologies that are dying to jump out of his throat. “it’s okay, see?”

take a deep breath is what he hears, maybe his secret gift is reading between the lines of both human and feline speech. chifuyu follows your unspoken demand down to a t.

he breathes in. at least you enjoyed the food, all the stories he had dug out for you proved to be most effective. your laughter quickly became one of his favorite noises, if that’s even a thing sane people have.

he breathes out. he was right to follow his gut and take his jacket. if only he had listened to peke j’s complaints, you would be swimming in damp wool. two wins against four losses wasn’t the best of proportions, but you weren’t frowning or chewing him out for being a bad date, so chifuyu decides to take the small victories.

he wants to break the silence. it’s not uncomfortable, but the prospect of hearing you chuckle again is too tempting. maybe this time he’ll tell you of the time baji accidentally bought a women’s shirt (and absolutely killed the v-neck look). or maybe you’d get a better kick out of the time peke j was called excalibur, his own embarrassment be damned if it meant your eyes would flicker with glee.

too many options revolved in his mind. it quickly became more and more difficult to choose one when you stared at him expectantly, adoringly. the squeeze on his hand wasn’t helping either.

… huh?

“doesn’t this seem like a scene straight out from one of your books?” your voice was muffled by the panicked screaming within his thoughts. he was slowly processing that he had grabbed your hand and practically dragged you through the rain. chifuyu’s plan was foolproof, he was meant to make that move at the end of the walk. give him a minute, please.

or don’t. “stranded under the rain, both soaked to the bone.” wait, you knew about his mangas? everything you spoke went through his ears with delay.

carefully, you peeled off his jacket, giving it a shake before snaking it around him. it was getting a little painful seeing him try to hold back from shivering. “i’d say your lovey-dovey date worked out just fine.”

screw the long-awaited scene by the bridge, where he was meant to cup your chin and lean in to steal your breath. with roses floating around the two of you, for good measure.

screw his foolproof plan.

another win is tallied in chifuyu’s favor when he met you halfway, closing the gap between your faces with a soft kiss. maybe a second one as well when you tugged him down for another.

(“i think it’s cute, chifuyu! you really spent a lot of time planning this.”

he rubbed his neck, mustering a chuckle. “it still went sideways, though.”

“michi even mentioned you had him sit through two romance movies to brainstorm—that’s dedication.”

as if he needed a second reason to murder hanagaki.)

⠀◉⠀KAWATA SOUYA

the kisses that make you believe in romance

it was an afternoon meant to blend in as any other day in the week. nothing new to watch on tv, no special meal to indulge in, and gray skies overhead. just a normal afternoon meant to be forgotten the next day.

until your doorbell announced a visitor, and you opened the door to a ridiculously huge bouquet of flowers hiding a blue poof of hair behind them.

you were the most despicable human to walk this earth. were you meant to go on a date? was today your anniversary? had you forgotten your own birthday?

"special occasion?" you prepared for the worst

souya stood awkwardly outside, half expecting you to maybe let him inside your home. "no, i just wanted to surprise you."

bless his heart.

his words snapped you out of the trance. door now wide open, you let him inside, taking the flowers from his arms. bless his beautiful soul, souya blushed when your hands grazed against his.

"i'll go put these in a vase, you can take off your shoes and wait on the couch." you tried to sound calm, you really did, but these flowers were heavy. what were they even feeding plants nowadays?

shoes carelessly thrown to the ground and hurried steps were your saving grace, the weight finally lessening as souya dashed in to help you carry them.

the arrangement looked beautiful when it wasn't making your arms cry for help. "sou, you didn't have to."

his eyes locked on the floor, "do you not like them? big bro said it'd be a nice detail.” he figured so too, yet he couldn’t help but fumble with his fingers.

truly, bless his mother for birthing him and his devil spawn of a twin.

"yes! of course i love them, i just," one hand sought to grasp his own, gently unclenching the fist he always curls his hand in. "i feel a little bad that i don't have anything for you."

a warm hue of blush painted his cheeks once again. "you don't have to give anything back, it wouldn't be a gift otherwise."

your free hand came to cup his face, gently lifting it. his eyes, wide as ever, were nothing short of nervous. "thank you, souya."

a soft peck on his cheek would have to suffice as payback for now. roses and snapdragons for a kiss. lips softly landed on his skin, lingering for just a minute longer. a muted smile ghosted on your face as his shoulders loosened up. flowers reciprocated as a honey-laced embrace.

and when his arms wrapped carefully around your waist, you could've sworn the sun came out for the first time that day.

⠀⠀⠀⠀navi.⠀＆⠀m.list.⠀＆⠀send me an ask!

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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yes-divine-ruler · 11 months

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Sweet Dreams - Kai Anderson

x fem!reader

cw: somnophilia, non-con, pervert!kai is your leader

Kai’s gaze settled on your sleeping body as soon as he cracked the bedroom door open. Sprawled out in the tiniest pair of pink pyjamas, you snoozed peacefully in your bed. Kai took a step into the room, his heartbeat racing in his ears. He was nervous, but his compulsions had more control. His cock stood to attention beneath his sweatpants as he counted every soft breath you took. Kai turns to shut and lock the door behind him.

He couldn’t have anyone witness what he was about to do.

Stepping in closer, he positions himself on the edge of the bed. You don’t stir. You don’t even take any notice as the bed dips from his weight. Kai bites his lip as he reaches forwards hesitantly. His hand settles gently on your exposed hip. His fingertips tingle as they lift up your silk pyjama top. The fabric is almost as soft as your skin.

Kai exhales a quiet breath, trying to contain his excitement. He lifts your top, exposing your perky breasts to his hungry eyes. He shuffles over, just enough to be able to cup one of the warm mounds in his big hand. Still asleep, your body reacts to his touch. Kai pinches one of your now taut nipples gently between his fingers. His cock begs to be let free. It was paining him to be so soft with you. He just wanted to ram his cock deep inside you, to feel the pulse of your plush walls as they squeeze him in uncertainty.

Kai lays on his side, spooning you from behind. Your body is warm and welcoming and fits close to his like you were two pieces of the same puzzle. He moves your hair over your shoulder, and leaves a single kiss on the exposed skin of your neck. Your body erupts in a frenzy of tiny goosebumps. Kai’s touch travels lower. He cups the flesh of your ass in his hand, squeezing gently in an attempt to satiate his perverted mind. It’s still not enough, just caressing you would never feel as good as defiling you.

Kai pauses for a moment. He convinces himself that this is what you both want. And then he continues.

His fingertips glide between your legs, pressing down on your clit from over your tiny silk shorts. In your sleep, you mumble for the first time. Kai stops to make sure he doesn’t wake you. You fall silent again, so Kai takes the opportunity to tug your shorts down. Just enough to see what he needed to.

Taking another deep breath, his fingertips return to your centre. Wet. You’re dripping. Your white panties are saturated with your own arousal. He wonders what you’re dreaming about, and he hopes that it’s him. Kai toys with you for a couple of minutes, pressing the pad of his thumb between your folds and feeling the delicious pulse of your pussy. Oh fuck. More.

Kai pulls your panties to the side. As soon as the cool air hits your soaked folds, you breathe a sigh of relief. He hums softly to himself. You make the prettiest noises when you sleep.

Kai’s fingertips runs up and down your slit, collecting your arousal to smother across your beating clit. His hard and leaking cock presses against your back in an attempt to find some relief. You moan softly. The sound makes Kai’s heart flutter. So pretty.

Kai dips his finger towards your entrance, pushing it in knuckle-deep. Your pussy invites him in seamlessly, squeezing down on his digit as it invades your walls. He pumps it in slowly, the smallest squelch reaching his ears with every reluctant thrust. More. You’re so warm, so wet, so tight and most of all, so unsuspecting.

Kai retracts his finger, and uses his hand to tug down his sweats. With no boxers underneath, it gives him less to work with. Shuffling impossibly closer, he kisses your shoulder blade, almost as if to say “sorry”. His tip, flushed pink and seeping pre cum, runs along the length of your slit. He holds in the moans that bubble at the back of his throat. More. He has to have you. Entirely.

Testing the boundaries, he sinks the tip inside your tight, little hole. He exhales a shuddering breath as he manages to get an inch in. He thrusts softly inside you, stretching you out in preparation for more of him. God, the lewd sounds your little pussy was making. It was driving him crazy.

You begin to stir. Your back arches, pushing Kai’s cock further inside you. Even in your sleep you were a needy little whore. Kai’s eyes shut and his jaw goes slack. You deserve this. He was done being gentle.

Kai pushed his hips forward until they were flush with your ass. Your pussy takes him whole and gives him the pleasure of squeezing him tight. Kai plans his next move. In less than a couple seconds, he’s rolled you over onto your stomach and pushed your face into the pillow.

You’re awake now, but can’t see anything. Kai uses all his weight to keep you still as you reach behind you to see who was there. You don’t have much of a chance to wake up, or to think, before Kai is pounding into you. You let out a scream into your pillow as he fills you. A good scream. It feels so good how much he’s stretching you out right now. You deserve this, you were just dreaming about this.

Kai spreads you out from behind. His nails dig into your ass cheeks as he thrusts in and out of you. You begin to shake beneath him as the tip of his cock abuses your cervix. Kai let’s out an animalistic moan as you flutter around him.

“Shhh shh, it’s just me sweetheart. I’m taking care of you,” Kai’s voice whispers in your ear in an attempt to reassure you. You whine into the pillow, grasping at it hard enough to turn your knuckles white.

“You’re such a good girl for your leader, aren’t you? Such a perfect pussy, just for me.”

Kai’s cock glistens with your arousal. He pulls himself all the way out, just to slam back into you again. A loud gasp leaves your lips with every harsh repetition.

“I’m cumming, fuck, shhh, so deep inside your little pussy,” Kai’s eyes close as he finishes, emptying himself inside you. He pulls out, only to replace his cock with his fingers. He finger fucks his cum inside you, burying it deep enough so that there isn’t a chance it seeps out. He lives and breathes to breed you.

“Good girl, go back to sleep,” Kai caressing the back of your head when he’s done, and dressing himself, he leaves the room.

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thatfeelinwhenyou · 3 days

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SMOKE SCREENS & CIGARETTES — teaser (18+)

How does it feel to be the you that has abandoned the façade of living up to the expectations of others, venturing into the uncharted territories of your inner truth, and exploring the new horizons of what it means to be truly and completely you?

IN WHICH; a popular girl uncovers the smart goody-two-shoes was in fact living a double life.

pairing: collegestudent!heeseung x collegestudent!fem!reader

taglist: not opened yet! will update when i'm taking in tags!

coming to you soon! (hopefully)

Lee Heeseung is always known as the quiet boy in class. Although his popularity in school would suggest otherwise, he is never viewed as the rebellious or partying type. In fact, he is the kind of student who reminds the teacher about pending assignments just as the lesson is about to conclude. Simply put, Lee Heeseung fits the stereotype of a nerd—at least, that's the version of him you are accustomed to.

So, when you unexpectedly encounter him at a club in another city during your summer break, his hair, now sporting green highlights, is slicked back instead of covering his eyes as it typically does on campus. He has multiple metal studs hanging from his earlobe, but above all, he seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself, dancing, drinking, and smoking without inhibition. Needless to say, you are taken aback.

While it's not uncommon for an overage university student to be partying during their vacation, this is Lee Heeseung we're talking about. The last thing you'd expect is to see him in Club Dark Moon, one hand holding a glass of some intoxicating liquid, and the other wrapped around the waist of a girl who appears to be of similar age to yourself.

This is the same Lee Heeseung who never knows when to take a hint in class, always finding an opportunity to correct the teacher. The Lee Heeseung who never fails to maintain perfect posture throughout 3-hour long lectures. The Lee Heeseung who becomes unresponsive and distant when the conversation veers away from academic topics. The Lee Heeseung who secretly envies you because you embody everything he isn't.

Now, in the flesh, is The Lee Heeseung embodying everything you thought he wasn't.

You are popular yourself, considering your extroverted and altruistic nature; you are popular because you know how to party. Lee Heeseung is popular because he is a quiet and smart kid yet has a mysterious aura that makes him so god damn attractive. The two of you are complete polar opposites, each other's antonyms, and while possessing many contradictory qualities, you are actually similar to one another in many ways that don't meet the eye.

You frequently attend the weekly Friday night parties hosted by the university fraternities. And with each step you take, you effortlessly command the attention of every person present, your magnetic presence impossible to ignore. Everybody yearns to be in your orbit; guys want you, while girls admire your confidence and charisma, secretly wishing to be you. Your friends eagerly drag you to every party down the block, basking in the reflected glow of being associated with The Y/L/N Y/N—a name synonymous with popularity and social prowess.

Despite the overwhelming amount of attention you receive throughout your undergraduate career, a persistent sense of unease gnaws at you as you find yourself grappling with a profound sense of disconnection. While externally you seamlessly blend into the pulsating dynamic of university life, internally, you’re like a solitary figure navigating a sea of expectations and obligations. You fit in, but at the same time, you don’t.

You always think that maybe you're just stressed out with assignment deadlines. Well, clearly, since you’re partying when you should be working on the next paragraph of your final year thesis. If only the answer were as simple as that.

No, you're not stressed. You just simply do not belong to the party life. However, as the nights blur into days and the days into weeks, you begin to feel the weight of societal expectations pressing down on you, particularly the burden of being labelled as the "popular kid." And popular kids always arrive fashionably late to every party. Popular kids are the lives of the party. Popular kids are party animals.

By the time you notice your desolation, you're already too far gone, you've convinced yourself that this is your life and all you have to do is suck it up, at least until you graduate. You're constantly trying to squeeze yourself into the mould of expectations that your peers have so delicately carved out for you, that you often find yourself questioning the authenticity of your existence, wondering if the facade of popularity is worth sacrificing yourself. Your true self.

And that's being the ambitious and studious girl you always were and still are. You would rather stay at home and finish writing your 100-page psychological analysis on 'Social Cognition and Perception', or finish reading the third volume of the 'Persuasion, Propaganda, and Marketing' trilogy. Hell, you would even rather do a mountain of chores than attend another frat party.

Though you long to share your intellectual passions with your friends, you hesitate, aware that their interests lie elsewhere. They’re in it for the social society life, effortlessly navigating sorority events and basking in the glow of admiration that comes with being in your inner social circle. Yet, beneath their carefree façade, they remain oblivious to the dedication and diligence required to maintain your impeccable grades. Only assuming that you’re a natural-born beauty and brains.

Thus, this label of being the “popular kid” becomes both a mantle of honour and a burden to bear, as you struggle within the confines of a stereotype that fails to encapsulate the complexity of your identity.

It’s your last break before your final semester and you are thrilled as you eagerly plan your to-do list over the summer break. Maybe learn to play the guitar, go on a hike, or finally start reading that fiction book you had put off for months. You envision checking it all off before the final semester begins. However, your plans are unexpectedly put on hold when your friends suggest a pre-graduation chalet trip to a province northeast of Seoul.

This trip marks your first time travelling outside of the city, and it's with your adventurous, somewhat reckless friends. The decision is made hastily, with everything arranged at the eleventh hour. Your friends unanimously agree to simply "go with the flow," as Yunjin puts it.

Unfortunately for you, your meticulous personality type craves structure and detailed planning, and you are only able to feel at ease if you have an itinerary to follow. Hence, it’s not a surprise that you were apprehensive about embarking on this trip. You even considered skipping the excursion altogether. Except that wouldn't be fitting for a popular kid, would it? Popular kids should be laid-back and adaptable, they should be going with the flow too, they do not need people telling them what to do should listen and act on what people expect of them.

"Y/N! We're leaving in 5 minutes, will you be ready soon?" Chaewon barges into your room in the Airbnb that the four of you share. Despite your reluctance, you plaster on your flawless façade and smile. "Yes, yes, I'm ready. So impatient as always," you half-jokingly roll your eyes, relieved that Chaewon doesn't catch the genuine hesitation in your tone.

It’s not that you dislike your friends or anything; in fact, you're grateful that they're the most genuine people you've met at university. Unlike most students who sacrifice their integrity to gain favour, your friends are refreshingly candid about their opinions of you. While you and Chaewon didn't hit it off at first, now you're practically two peas in a pod. Yet, it doesn't change the fact that you've become a puppet catering to your friends' partying whims.

As you gaze into the mirror, you confront a version of yourself that you yourself could barely recognise. The person you once were—vibrant, authentic, and unapologetically yourself—has become obscured beneath layers of societal expectations and peer pressure. Still, it wouldn’t be the first time choosing to pretend the girl in the mirror is you, because what’s another day of grinding up your confidence and making it a meal that would last you an hour at best?

So, you do what you do best—picking out the skimpiest dress you own, spraying on your most testosterone-provoking perfume, and drawing a cat-eye sharp enough to kill anyone who dares to meet your gaze.

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undiscovered-horizon · 6 months

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Hello Sofia! My name is Aleksandra! Just wanted to send a request of Zoro x reader where reader has just joined the crew she is a witch and very strong, sweet, but could be intense (in a good way) as well as mysterious everyone in the crew absolutely loves her but it takes time for Zoro to completely trust her so he keeps his eye on her causing them both to have some tension some days they are arguing over tiny situations some days they are sitting alone together laughing and smiling at one another with feelings building up that they have yet to understand even though they are confused with their feelings their connection runs deeply to the point it drives them insane everyone else in the crew see's this (Besides our dear Luffy.) They try to get them to open up but it's hopeless at times. I was thinking Zoro gets a deep cut during a fight and Reader helps him with his wound this is where they are able to share their feelings and once they deeply kiss they understand how they feel from there.

I hope this is a good one to do! Thank you!✨🌻✨

I would love to be tagged at!💜 @shewalksinanotherworld

This took a little bit longer and I have nothing to say for myself except that my executive function does not, in fact, function. Enjoy! @shewalksinanotherworld Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

"The way to a man's heart" - Zoro x Reader

[graphic descriptions of open wounds]

Somebody once said that love and hate are two sides of the same coin - a token of devotion. Like tides of two seas that create storms and whirlpools upon meeting, it is often impossible to determine where one ends and the other begins. Perhaps, these waters have never differed as they are two ends of one river. Both lovers and enemies alike make up the first row of the funeral cortege.

And just like those seas, no matter whether they are the same or two different bodies, Zoro and you seem to be ebbing and flowing across love and hate. Flipping the coin of dedication each day to see where your tense relationship will take you. Sometimes more than once a day, when mere hours separate passionate fights from merry laughter.

But speaking of turning tides and seamlessly flowing waters, wouldn't the seas know each other far too well? What constitutes oceans of hate was once the pond of love. Conversely, the waters of affection had once flown as tides of enmity. If the answer is yes, it would explain quite a lot about the rather inexplicable connection you share with the swordsman. Sometimes not a word has to be spoken but a fleeting gaze exchange for either of you to know perfectly well what the other has on their mind.

To be fair, it's hard for you to put your finger on the why - Why are you and Zoro so strange with each other? The most plausible explanation would probably be his stubborn distrust. He's a very guarded person which, by itself, is not unfathomable considering his journey and livelihood. But it is absolutely tedious when he sticks to his guns against all available evidence. Weeks went by when Zoro was the only crewmember who perceived you in different shades of suspicion, even after witnessing you put your life on the line for your mutual friends. His stubbornness was frustrating, so you gave him as good as you got and well... Here we are, wading in the murky waters of passion, both pleasant and adverse.

However, you'll be wading much different waters, those flowing in the Styx River, if you don't escape now. The Indigo Cross pirates are a little too close behind you. You can almost feel their breaths on your neck as they scream about revenge, bloodshed and defending their captain's honour. Yes, about that... It wasn't exactly Luffy's fault that the man he told to apologize to the tavern waitress was the world's most narcissistic pirate. Alas, the damage is done and so is your chance at a peaceful shore leave.

The Merry Go is but a few meters away. You just have to get to the gangway and run up the stairs so fast your mother would go bald from stress. Just two things, right?

Your foot gets caught the between rotting planks of the pier. The unforeseen obstacle in your escape startles you, giving you barely any time to shield your face from the painful impact of the ground.

"Shit!" you groan to yourself, yanking your foot.

Zoro yells out your name. In long strides, he catches up with you. He manages to rip away one of the mould-covered planks. Despite your foot being set free, the man lifts you to stand on your own.

"You go, I'll hold them back," he orders you as he nudges you in the direction of the ship. Before you can defy him, Zoro is already running towards the oncoming wave of looking-for-a-scrap pirates.

Time seems to slow down as you watch a spear, its polished head shining in the sunlight, fly through the air and pierce Zoro's chest. He stumbles backwards and falls on one knee. With a roar of agony, the swordsman grabs the long shaft of the weapon. A loud snap fills the air as he breaks the wood off. Then, like a phoenix rising from the ashes,, Zoro stands up. Although his legs tremble slightly, he still lifts his swords and fights off the Indigo pirates. Some seem to drop their weapons in surrender, seeing that not even death can grasp this demon of a man.

You want to call for him but Sanji firmly grabs your arm and pulls you on board. "Come on, he can handle himself."

Having hidden on the lower deck, you're not sure what happened on the shore and onboard the ship until you saw none other but Roronoa Zoro, stumbling down the stairs and almost falling on the floor. Luffy, Usopp and even Sanji yell and nag at him to get his wound looked at while Nami keeps calling him different variations of "stupid" but Zoro only curses at them and tells a less savoury "Leave me alone".

Maybe thirty minutes pass by until the emotions die down or are at least well hidden. Your four friends sit around the kitchen, all strangely silent. They all give you a curious look when you let out a heavy sigh and march towards Zoro's room. He's going to die one day, obviously, but it's not going to be today. And definitely not because he put your safety before his own. What kind of rom-com death would that be?

Zoro is facing you with his back when you swing the door open without even knocking first. You seem to have interrupted his rather poor attempt at bandaging the hole in his chest. He looks over his shoulder, his face bearing an expression of annoyance.

"What do you want?"

You toss a handful of medical supplies on top of the chest with his belongings. The fresh dressings, a small bottle of alcohol, a needle and a thread tell quite the story, lying next to the bloodied head of a spear with splinters coming out of where the long shaft should be. It's still hardly believable what he did back there.

"When you get an infection, you green-haired idiot," you speak with your hands crossed on your chest. It's clear as day - you're pissed off, "it will be Sanji spoon-feeding you. I'm sure you'll be having the time of your life then."

Your sarcastic remark doesn't seem to phase him. The wrinkle between Zoro's eyebrows only gets deeper.

"I'm fine. I've been worse," he says with an exasperated sigh. "Just piss off," the man groans in a low voice.

Maybe if he wasn't already injured, you'd punch him straight in the jaw. "Stop being a stubborn ass," you raise your voice, "and let me help you."

Zoro rolls his eyes dramatically. Making a show of his discontentment, he sits on the edge of his hammock. If he was just a few yours younger maybe he'd stomp his feet too, as befits a toddler he seems to have chosen to act like.

Minutes go by in silence as you clean the deep would and do your best suturing it. Meanwhile, Zoro doesn't even wince. He's perfectly calm and collected, almost as though his soul has left his body and gone for a stroll.

By the looks of it, you haven't stitched wounds many times and Sanji would probably be better at this, with his experienced hands and all, but that would require Zoro to be either already dead or at least unconscious. There's no other way he'd willingly let those slimy fingers touch him.

“They say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach," you say under your breath as you tighten the knot on the last suture. The last thing you want is the deep wound reopening. "I guess going through his ribs works too.”

"A lot more efficient." The swordsman chuckles but his laughter soon turns into winces and groans. Although he's not going to bleed to death anymore, the rather large hole in his chest is this painful and not something to trifle with.

"A spear nearly pierced right through you and you're having a laugh?" You nod with approval. He's impressed you, you have to give him that. "Roronoa Zoro, you command respect."

A silence falls between you again as you put back the collection of medical supplies you've managed to find aboard. Little do you know, Zoro's watchful gaze doesn't leave you. He seems to be intensely thinking about something.

"Thanks," he finally spits out. "I would rather die than let Sanji spoon-feed me."

It's not the wraith of death that scared him into letting you patch him up - it was the cook in a striped shirt. Really? Roronoa Zoro is a lot of things but "ordinary" or "predictable" is not one of them.

You burst into laughter. "Unfortunately," you manage to breathe out, "I would have loved to see that."

He shakes his head in disapproval but his lips are curved into a grin. "I hate you."

"No, you don't, big guy," you answer as you playfully poke his arm. It's still covered in dried blood and sweat.

His dark eyes stare into yours with a strange glint to them. It's almost like amusement but not entirely - it's deeper, much deeper. "Yeah, I don't," he whispers.

Everything happens so fast: Zoro grabs your neck and pulls you flush against himself, crashing his lips against yours. Involuntarily you yelp, which elicits a chuckle from the man. On one hand, you're surprised with his sudden declaration of passion but on the other hand, you're relieved. Of course, you have joked that Zoro must be in love with you to be so annoying most of the time but rarely did you consider it a real possibility. He just... didn't seem like a man who loves, only desires. But now, when he's kissing you so desperately and eagerly, you feel stupid for ever thinking such thoughts. As his hand roams your body, you begin to wonder whether all of this has always been this funny - every one of your friends already knew the feelings you had for each other, except the two of you. Something so obvious it's easily overlooked.

It makes you think that he was, actually, scared of losing but not his life. He was scared of losing someone.

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zapreportsblog · 8 months

Note

Hello. Yandere Miguel O'Hara and female reader. The reader catches Miguel's eye after she joins the spider community. After a while, Miguel realizes that he wants to find the reader waiting for him to come home from work at the house where they will live together. And with at least five children.

❝a new spider in my web❞

✭ pairing : yandere miguel o’hara x reader

✭ fandom : spiderman into the spiderverse

✭ summary : the moment Miguel laid his eyes on here he knew she was it for him, he didn’t care if they couldn’t be together, he’d make something work. He always did

✭ authors note : none of these are my art just a heads up I found them on Pinterest

✭ spiderman into the spiderverse masterlist

In the bustling heart of the Spider-Verse community, where spider-folk from countless dimensions converged, a new arrival was about to catch the attention of one particular spider.

Miguel O'Hara, known in his dimension as Spider-Man 2099, stood atop a towering skyscraper, his sharp eyes scanning the sprawling metropolis below. His costume, a sleek blue and white suit, shimmered in the city's neon glow as he maintained his vigilant watch over the Spider-Verse.

It was an ordinary day in this extraordinary place, or so it seemed until Gwen Stacy, the Spider-Woman of her dimension, swung by with effortless grace through a portal and landed beside Miguel. Her white and black suit glistened like moonlight against the darkened skyline. Gwen had been one of the few to join the Spider-Verse community, and she had seen her fair share of newcomers.

"Hey, Miguel," she greeted him with a friendly nod. "Got a moment?"

Miguel raised a brow at her but nodded, curious. Gwen had a way of making even the most routine days interesting or troublesome in his eyes. "What is it, Gwen?"

Gwen smiled, her eyes sparkling with a hint of excitement. "Well I know you’ve been trusting me more and more for the mission we’ve had so far and so I brought someone new to the community today, and I think you'll want to meet her."

Miguel arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "Another spider-person? What makes this one special and why wasn’t I alerted of this beforehand? You know you can’t just bring someone random without going over it with me first.”

Gwen's grin widened just slightly, “She's different, I swear! In her universe, she's their Spider-Woman, obviously but when she got bitten, look just check her out miguel. What’s the harm in it, plus she's... pretty unique."

As Gwen spoke, the night air suddenly crackled with a strange energy. Moments later, a figure swung into view, suspended by clear glistening webbing. Miguel's eyes widened as he saw her for the first time.

Her form bathed in the eerie glow of the main room labs lights, descended gracefully from her webline. She was a striking sight, like something out of a dream and a nightmare all at once. Her lower half was a delicate, iridescent exoskeleton, resembling that of a spider, while her upper body remained unmistakably human. Her costume blended seamlessly with her arachnid lower half, creating an otherworldly fusion.

Miguel couldn't tear his eyes away. This newcomer was unlike any spider-person he had ever encountered. Her presence exuded an air of mystery and power that was impossible to ignore.

Gwen chuckled at Miguel's reaction. "See what I mean? She's going to be a game-changer around here."

Miguel finally found his voice. "You brought her to here to the spiderverse already? Since you didn’t bother telling me of her arrival does Jess at least know.”

Gwen nodded. "Yes, and I think she's going to be a valuable addition to our team. (Y/N) is her name, by the way."

As (Y/N) touched down gracefully on the rooftop, her multifaceted eyes met Miguel's. There was a brief, electric connection between them, an unspoken understanding of the extraordinary circumstances they had both found themselves in.

Miguel extended a hand, a smile playing on his lips. "Welcome to the Spider-Verse, I would say I’ve heard good things about you but I didn’t know of your existence until now.”

That earnt him a laugh from the woman, “It’s all cool, I’ve come to notice that Gwen tends to do her own thing at times. But it’s a pleasure to meet you, I am (y/n).”

“(Y/n) huh…nice name. I’m Miguel, the spiderman of this universe and creator of the spiderverse.”

With that simple gesture, a new chapter in (Y/N)'s journey as an extraordinary spider-being began, and Miguel couldn't help but wonder what incredible adventures lay ahead in this web of endless possibilities.

Miguel couldn't deny his fascination with (Y/N), and as the days passed, he took every opportunity to get to know her abilities, her strengths, and her vulnerabilities. Gwen's intuition had been right; (Y/N) was unique, not just in her appearance but in her spider-powers as well.

Their missions together became a testing ground, and Miguel found himself in the dual role of mentor and admirer. (Y/N) had an uncanny ability to adapt to any situation. Her agility and dexterity were unmatched, her spider-silk threads stronger and more versatile than any he'd seen before.

As they swung through the city, tracking down threats and facing down villains, Miguel couldn't help but watch (Y/N) in action. Her movements were like a mesmerizing dance, fluid and graceful. Her eyes, a mesmerizing blend of human warmth and arachnid determination, held a fierce focus that drew him in.

Yet, his captivation came at a cost. There were moments when his preoccupation with her put him in harm's way. A misplaced web-swing, a delayed reaction, or an enemy's surprise attack—it seemed like Miguel's attention was often divided.

One fateful night, in the midst of a heated battle with a formidable foe, Miguel found himself momentarily caught off guard. Before he could react, an energy blast was hurtling towards him. In that split second, (Y/N) moved with lightning speed, positioning herself between Miguel and the danger. Her spider-silk shield absorbed the brunt of the blast, saving Miguel from serious injury.

As the dust settled, Miguel's heart raced, and he couldn't shake the feeling that (Y/N) had shielded him not just out of duty but out of a deeper connection. It was a thought that haunted him, and he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to their partnership than met the eye.

In the aftermath of the battle, as they regrouped with Gwen, Miles, and Hobie, Miguel's thoughts were a tumultuous whirlwind. He kept his inner musings to himself, not daring to voice the growing obsession that whispered in the recesses of his mind.

Hobie, ever perceptive, gave Miguel a knowing look “Dontcha think you’ve been watching the new girl a bit too hard there mate?”

Miguel blinked, caught off guard by the question. "What? No, I—"

Gwen chimed in with a playful grin. "It's okay, Miguel. We all see how you look at her. Told you she was something special.”

Miles nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I mean sure there’s a T-Rex that’s a Spiderman? Spider-Rex? But like a whole half humanoid spider? That’s pretty wicked too.”

Miguel couldn't deny it any longer, not that he’d voice it. His feelings for (Y/N) had grown into something more than just admiration. He cared for her deeply, and the thought that she might feel the same way both thrilled and terrified him.

“You three know nothing. I don’t have feelings for (y/n) im simply assessing her skills. Nothing more, now leave me be.” Miguel says turning his back to the three youngsters.

He couldn't risk their partnership by letting his emotions get the best of him. So, like always, he kept his feelings locked away, buried beneath his stoic exterior, all while secretly cherishing every moment he spent with (Y/N), the extraordinary spider-woman who had captured his heart.

Miguel had been waiting for the right moment to talk to (Y/N) about the upcoming mission. He knew it was crucial, and he needed to ensure her full attention and commitment. As he walked down the corridor towards her quarters, his mind was filled with thoughts of the mission's details, but also of his deep affection for (Y/N). He couldn't help but smile as he thought about their future together.

However, as he approached her door, his smile faded. He saw Riley, a fellow agent, standing in front of (Y/N). Riley was flexing his muscles and engaging in conversation with her. A wave of jealousy and possessiveness washed over Miguel. He clenched his fists, feeling a surge of anger. (Y/N) was his; he couldn't stand the thought of her being with someone like Riley.

Miguel hesitated for a moment, debating whether to confront them. Instead, he turned on his heels and walked away. He couldn't bear to see (Y/N) with someone else, not when he loved her so deeply.

Retreating to his office, Miguel locked the door behind him. He needed to clear his mind and focus on something other than his jealousy. He sat down at his desk and began reviewing clips and videos he had taken of (Y/N) in action. Each time he paused a video, it was at the moment her face was on display. He couldn't help himself, his obsession with her consuming his every thought.

Miguel started to mumble to himself, reassuring himself that (Y/N) was his and that she loved him, even if she was too shy to say it. He envisioned a future together, a family they would build. He wondered if their children would inherit his or her looks, or perhaps a perfect blend of both. He imagined their first born would be a girl, their very own daughter, a mommy's girl just like him, adoring (Y/N) as much as he did.

He envisioned her carrying more of their children, would they be eggs or would she carry them like a regular mother did in pregnancy?

In his isolated office, Miguel was lost in his fantasies. He couldn't wait for the day when (Y/N) would truly be his, and he was determined to make that future a reality.

As Miguel continued to grapple with the complexities of his relationship with (Y/N), he couldn't help but think about the obstacles they faced. The idea of two Spider-People together raised concerns of potential conflicts or even the risk of creating a catastrophic event in their world. Society had its expectations, its rules, and its fears, but Miguel knew deep down that he couldn't simply let (Y/N) slip away.

Each time he pictured (Y/N) with someone else, whether it was their own MJ or Gwen, or even a complete stranger, an unsettling feeling gnawed at him. It was as if the universe itself was protesting against any scenario where they weren't together. It was in these moments of doubt and insecurity that Miguel realized their unique connection.

He whispered to himself in the solitude of his office, "No one else would accept our flaws." He understood that they were perfect for each other precisely because they could see past each other's imperfections and still love each other deeply.

Miguel knew the risks, the potential consequences of their love, but as he thought about a world falling apart, it didn't matter to him. In his heart, he knew that having (Y/N) in his arms was worth any sacrifice, even if it meant the world crumbling around them. Their love was a force that defied the ordinary, and he was willing to defy the world if it meant they could be together.

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gay4abby · 6 months

Text

A Significant Crack in Time !!

or in which jordan has an important decision to make & fears of making the wrong choice.

warnings, fluff, angst, possible character death, au, slowish burn for Jordan n reader. pairings, Jordan Li x reaper!nameless oc x Marie Moreau. gif creds to ayoedebiris. idk how long this is, plus idk where this was going didn’t know how to end it, im not proud of it either but !

Jordan couldn’t imagine being in this current predicament. It was hazy, the memory they’re trying to remember, but there all the same. It was like trying to recall a word that’s at the tip of your tongue. A dull pain flashes through their skull, rendering them to keep in the same position they’re in since they’ve gained consciousness. The surface they were laying on was just right, it didn’t make them feel too cold or too hot. A significant temperature that almost seemed impossible to attain. Their eyes were slowly opening, blinking every 5 seconds to adjust to sudden bleak haze that managed to obscure her vision. For a second they thought they’ve lost their sight with how many times they’ve had to blink just to focus their eyes.

They took in their surroundings wondering just where they are and why it was so damn foggy. “What the fuck?” they whispered. Quickly feeling uneasy, Jordan switched to their masculine form, extending their hands out in defence in case anything jumped out to attack. “Hello?” their soft yet hoarse voice rang out into the empty open space. It almost looked like…God U almost, except it’s vacant and dismal. Something out of silent hill almost. He let their guard down, defensive hands lowering with a steady pace. As if something might go wrong if he made any sudden movements. No reply was given as they began to relax, big brown eyes scanning the place. Slow steps were being taken as Jordan’s cautiousness simmered, but only for a bit.

“Fuck me, fuck where the hell am I.” he breathed out, seeing the fog of his breath as they walked further on to campus. It wasn’t cold, but still seeing that made it all the more suspicious. Jordan couldn’t decipher where they were, just that a nagging memory was chipping away at a cement wall that was threatening to crack. His doe eyes laid upon the café of the university that many of the students frequent to. But, it wasn’t as warm looking as the original, Jordan denounced. They once again seamlessly switched back to her feminine form, feeling no immediate threat. Like they were safe here.

Carefully, Jordan made their up towards the entrance, seeing a few figures lingering by inside. She was just as confused as she was when they first appeared in this place. They stayed outside, hand slightly hovering over the door handle that seemed to be frozen over. And yet, they still weren’t cold. As she peered inside, the people (if you can consider them that?) seemed as though they had no care in the world. Most were drinking coffee and reading the newspaper, others were devouring pastries that even made Jordan’s stomach turn. She couldn’t fathom digesting something so confectionery.

“You planning on going inside or are you just gonna stand there?” Jordan swore they jumped 20 feet into the air at the sudden voice behind them. It was a vehement sound, sending chills through Jordan as she quickly turned around and shifted to their male form. “Who the hell are you?” He spoke, taking in the strangers appearance. For a minute there was a moment of familiarity, but Jordan has never seen you in his entire life before. So why did they feel so familiar? “I don’t think that’s really important now. You going in or what?”

Jordan didn’t know whether to defend themselves or walk into the café like nothing’s wrong. When everything is wrong because he doesn’t know where the fuck he is! “Where the hell am I?” He spat at her which didn’t seem to affect them at all. The stranger looked serene, as if they weren’t in a universe that held absolutely no one besides the few who look lost inside the café. “Well, that’s for you to decide. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have customers to attend to.” Moving out of Jordan’s way, you made your way inside leaving them more befuddled than when they came in. He turned around and followed your movements as you disappeared behind the counter.

Harbouring the feeling that there’s no immediate threat, Jordan shifts back to their female form, bracing themselves before walking inside of the rather vacant establishment. Jordan looked around at everyone she saw and concluded on one thing, they all looked content where they currently were. Which confused her to no end, how come no one was talking about how off everything is? But that also most of the people here were other Supes who she hasn’t seen since sophomore year. Supes she thought left and never returned.

“Would you like to order something while you wait?” The same voice rang through the otherwise desolate café. Jordan turned around with a bewildered expression on their face. Wait for what? “What do you mean?” Your hands settled on the counter. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“Well, yes! That tends to happen when you have no idea where you fucking are.”

You chuckled, turning around to grab a mug and begin brewing a concoction Jordan didn’t seem to keen on trying. It only took a few moments before she turned around again with a steaming cup of cappuccino. You pushed the cup towards Jordan, cocking your head to the side to show them where to sit. “I’ll be with you in a moment,” you summarised before turning your attention to someone standing behind Jordan. They turned around to see someone they never expected to lay eyes on again.

“Dusty?!”

“Hey, man. Long time no see.”

“Last time I saw you were burned to bits! How the fuck are you here?” Jordan followed his movements, moving to the side as he took ahold of the mug that was freshly brewed right after Jordan’s drink. How the fuck did you do that so fast? “Dude, I got sent here because I died. Seems like you’re in the same boat. Or close to it anyway.” He walked off, taking a seat near the window to look at god knows what considering there’s shit out there. Jordan looked back at the mug patiently waiting to be picked up and devoured. Then it hit them. “I’m fucking dead?” She whispered. “Yeah…you are.”

Jordan looked up, tears welling up in their eyes as they began to shake their head. “No, no, no, no. You’re lying. I didn’t fucking die. I’m alive. What the fuck. You’re fucking lying. Stop lying to me! Stop it! Stop fucking lying to me!” They yelled, immediately pushing forth energy blasts that would have knocked over the woman, but you were still standing, unmoving in her place behind the counter. Was that the memory that was trying to break through? Of them dying? How could they not know they were dead?

“Are you done?”

“What the fuck!”

“Take a seat, Jordan, drink this. And I’ll explain everything.” You said calmly. The way you spoke to them made the twisting and turning in their chest settle just a bit. How the fuck did she do that? Jordan picked up the cup, eyeing it with uncertainty. She took a deep breath, bringing the cup to her pink lips; one sip was all it took before they downed the entire thing. Jordan slammed the cup on the counter, sending the woman a scowl before making their way to the seat on the other side of the café next to the window.

You followed, sighing quietly. You always got people like this pass through, not ever knowing what happened to them or why they’re even there in the first place. It’s not unusual to see someone have a mental breakdown about finding out they’re in fucking limbo. “Tell me what the fuck is going on.” Jordan was angry and you can tell from the firmness of their voice to the furrowed eyebrows wrinkling up their delicate forehead. “Are you calm?”

“Listen–”

“I will not explain anything unless you calm down.” Jordan took a deep breath before slouching back into the booth seat. “Thank you. Now, it’s a good thing you know someone here or else this probably would’ve went a completely different way.” You laughed, quickly coming to a halt at the sight of their face. “Right, so. You’re Jordan Li. Indestructible. Invincible. And yet, here you are in limbo.”

“LIMBO?”

“You died, Jordan. It’s as simple as that. Well, you’re actually on the brink of death. No pun intended. Sorry about your mentor.”

“Thanks…I guess. Wait, what do you mean brink of death? I’m not dead yet?” Jordan couldn’t get a grasp on what was going on. All she knew was that she needed to get the hell out of there knowing she’s not fully dead yet. “Yes. Precisely. You have the opportunity to go back, to stay here or to just let it all go.”

“To go back?” You could tell Jordan was getting even more confused than they were before. “I–where,” Jordan could not form a proper sentence to respond to this new found information. “Do you know how I died?” You shake your head no. Jordan sighs, running their small hands over their face. “That answer doesn’t usually come to me, it’s more so of what your status is in regards to you know.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Well.”

“You’re not very good at explaining these things. And what the fuck even are you? Who are you?”

“People who usually end up in limbo have a choice to make. I gave you your options, now choose.” Jordan was at an impasse. Finding out you died was one thing, but finding out you have the choice to stay dead and move on or to go back was another. Jordan couldn’t even believe they were…would you call it dead? It didn’t seem real at all considering they’re indestructible. In their male form. Could they have been in their female form when their injuries turned worse for wear? Fuck, they got to get their memories back. It wasn’t like her at all to feel this way.

Jordan looked at you sitting in front of them, an emotionless expression on your soft features. She never got your name, they assumed it had to be something like the Ghastly Rider of the Lost Souls. Which brought her back to their original question, “What are you?” You just smiled at Jordan, folding your hands neatly on the table. “I’m someone you’ve seen, but never care to register. But if we’re being technical, I’m the bridge between your plane of existence and everything else after.”

You leaned forward, “What do you want, Jordan?” It was barely audible, but Jordan heard it all the same. The question seemed to hit a nerve that they never knew was there. What did they want? Why was this happening to them that brought her to this situation of deciding to leave those they love in despair or to live to fight another day? Or to stay in the in between of everything and find peace knowing they’ll watch others come and go. Why did it feel like the answer was right there but they could barely reach it yet? And what the fuck happened to have them end up here?

“Come. I want to show you something.” You extended out your hand as you rose from the seat, awaiting Jordan’s acceptance. And they knew now to not even fight it. She grabbed on to your hand and before they knew it they were before a pensive, unable to describe the rest of her surroundings. “Where–” Jordan began but stopped immediately after you let go of their hand. “If I hear you ask again where you are, I’ll make the decision for you, got it?” Your smile was sickeningly sweet, but daunting at the same time. Jordan decided not to speak unless spoken to.

The pensieve floated gracefully up until it reached just below their collarbones. Jordan was fascinated by the contraption, not knowing how to react to it. They’ve never seen anything like it and wondered exactly what it was the woman wanted to show them. It was glimmering light, the shine captivating that Jordan felt themselves leaning towards it involuntarily; the sudden pull coming from nowhere. Before they could get any further, a sharp push collided against their chest, causing them to shift to their male form.

“Wait.”

“What is that?” Jordan’s breathing became hoarse, staring at the object floating in front of them. “I don’t usually do this with those who pass through here. For some reason, it’s hard to get a reading on you. That doesn’t happen often, s’why I brought you here.” You raised your finger to tap the very centre of the pensieve, ripples of water wafting back at the both of you. “Since I don’t know what the fuck happened to you, I’m gonna allow Sabine to tell us both.”

“Sabine?” Jordan looked at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“It’s what I named her when I first got her. She’s nice, she won’t bite.” You smirked at him before grabbing ahold of their neck and plunging them into the water.

Another dreading morning means another early class Jordan regrets enrolling for. It wasn’t by choice either rather their only option and if it wasn’t a requirement, god he would’ve said fuck all. Leading a day after a treacherous event as if nothing’s wrong was one of the hardest things the Supe had to do. Losing a close friend was on a whole other level of trauma; witnessing people pretending to be upset about it was absolutely jarring. They weren’t actually feeling the pain that comes with loss. That empty, aching feeling in your chest that seemed to grow deeper with each passing day. The feeling of not knowing when it’s going to be okay again. Or if it gets easier to bear.

Grief looked different on everyone, so when they showed up to class that morning not seeing Cate in her usual seat it was understandable that the blonde wanted to take some time off. Jordan didn’t blame her.

They sat through class zoning in and out so much so that they didn’t even realise class was over. Everyone was packing up to leave when he suddenly got a text from Cate saying to meet her in her dorm. Jordan all but hauled ass to straight to her quarter on campus, not stopping for anyone along the way. With haste, he was at her door quickly switching to their female form as Cate swung the door open. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was heaving, but one thing that felt off besides those was that her smile. It was crazed almost.

Her pupils were blown wide, she grabbed ahold of Jordan’s arm and yanked her inside. “I’m so glad you’re here! You got here quick,” she breathed out, walking to stand in the middle of her dorm room, Jordan slowly approaching. “I mean…yeah. You said to come and with everything…”

“Yeah I know, but that’s not why I called you here.” Jordan was beginning to really notice Cate. She was dishevelled, clothes looked pulled at almost as if she was doing hard labour. Eyes erratic, breathing slightly heavy but it seemed to be calming down. “Is everything alright, Cate?” Jordan whispered as she stepped closer. She put her hands on Cate’s arms, gently stroking them as she looked at her with a sympathetic expression. It annoyed Cate to no end that she was being looked at like that, but there was no time to react to that right now.

“Yes, I’m fine. More than fine, actually…I need to tell you something,” she leaned closer to Jordan, grabbing ahold of their arms too squeezing gently. Jordan didn’t like how this was beginning to make her feel. She can’t remember the last time Cate almost fell off her hinges, but it for sure definitely happened. Luke was there to console her after they got caught up with something for Brink, but was immediately there after the fact. She can’t help but worry if Luke’s death was sending her through another spiral again.

“You have to promise me you can’t get mad.” That made Jordan’s heart drop. “What the fuck, Cate…”

“Promise me!”

Jordan hesitated before slowly nodding, “Yeah. I promise. Fuck.” Cate smiled once more and it made Jordan even more uneasy than they already were. She left go of Jordan, turning back in a hurry to grab her phone. She frantically typing away on the screen when she turned around, her breathing becoming erratic again. “Luke’s death was no accident. I’ve been trying to figure out exactly what could’ve made him do that, you know? It didn’t seem like him. To…to just kill himself. Not my Luke, you know?”

“Yes, I know.”

“Right. So, I did some digging and I found out that Brink’s death and Luke’s are connected. In fact, there’s even a witness. Fucking Marie Moreau. That freshman we hung out with, can you believe that?

“Anyway. Turns out his brother’s alive and they’ve kept Luke in the dark about it. He killed Brink because of this. Because they were torturing his brother…underneath this fucking school. He wasn’t the only one either. And Shetty’s…she’s behind all of this. Look, I got her to tell me everything,” she pulled up a video of Shetty confessing exactly everything she just told Jordan, they watching with horror, “She’s been experimenting on fucking Supes to figure out a way to kill us all, Jordan.

“But she’s not going to do that because I’m going to kill her and everyone else apart of this.” Cate put her phone away looking at Jordan as her eyes grew wider than they can possibly go. The blood around her cornea spread further, waiting expectantly for Jordan to agree with her so they can get this going. She was at a standstill, though. On one hand, she couldn’t let Cate commit mass murder but Shetty’s confession made them crossed of wanting to make them pay. But Jordan knew they couldn’t do that, especially risking the lives of innocents who could be caught in the crossfire.

Jordan shook her head, “No, Cate. I won’t let you do that. Are you fucking insane? Do you hear yourself, kill Shetty? We’d be no better than them.” Cate was not expecting that answer and the annoyance she felt from earlier slowly seeped back turning into anger. Her breathing became heavy again and she found herself reaching out to touch Jordan, but before she even had the chance an energy blast sent her flying hitting the window behind her and falling against the floor with a loud thud.

She groaned, making her way up from the ground, “Do not make me fight you, Cate.”

“I’m not making you do anything, I just want you to see reason! Why we need to stop them before they stop us!” She charged towards Jordan again before she shifted to his male form knocking her on the side of her head with his fist which sent her to the ground. Blood seeped from where the blow was met, but still she got up. All the commotion had the door bursting open, Marie on the other side. It caused Jordan to turn around giving Cate the distraction she desperately needed.

“Marie! She’s trying to–” Jordan couldn’t finish his sentence before he collapsed to the ground. The last thing he heard was a loud scream, from which girl they did know.

Jordan was thrown back from the pensieve, switching to their female form immediately. Their breathing was staggered, tears filling up their sockets as she looked over at you. “Did, what– what happened?” She spoke softly, the tears escaping as she shook their head. “I don’t…I don’t remember any of that. What Luke’s brother never died, what? What the fuck did you show me!”

“I only showed you what you refused to remember.”

“You fucking planted that in my head, you psycho–” Before Jordan could even finish their sentence, their mouths were sealed shut by you an evident frown slowly making its way on to your features. “You keep denying what’s right in front of you is only going to delay your decision, which will then be made for you.” You lowered your fingers which caused her mouth to unseal, small hands balling up into fists as Jordan steadied their breathing.

“So, what now? What does it mean?” You studied Jordan for a moment finally seeing and realising how vulnerable they are. You waved your hand nonchalantly, casting away the pensieve before you grabbed their hand again and within a blink of an eye, you both were back at the café. Dusty was gone Jordan noticed and it made her wonder did he move on? “It means you have a decision to make. Like I said, you either stay, let it go or move on.”

“What if I don’t know what to do?” Jordan said it so timidly it made your heart crack just a little. You never really got emotional over passers, most just being an afterthought, but Jordan…with Jordan it was different. You felt the need to hold their hand every step of the way.

“When you were conscious, on any general day, what did you feel like?”

It took a moment for Jordan to answer because she felt a lot of things. There was always a battle going on in their heads about anything and nothing. Jordan suffered from severe anxiety, but was able to mask it so well it became second nature. The question kept replaying in Jordan’s head, “I felt like I was going. Like auto pilot, prioritising things like rankings, engagement, and follows. Just overall exposure. To show that I’m the best.”

“To show you’re good enough?”

“Yes.”

You sighed, pulling Jordan to the seat you both preoccupied before this time sitting next to each other rather than across. Jordan was confused but let you manoeuvre them however way you wanted to. Sitting this close to you made Jordan realise that you carry a halo of comfort around you, no matter how snarky and pensive you can get. Always thinking but she assumed that was part of the job.

But, up close and personal it felt like a whole other reality. “I think your reason is because if you decide to go back, you’re not sure if you can come back from such a takedown as the one Cate gave you. And that’s understandable, I don’t think anyone can truly heal from that sort of trauma.

“You’re what, 180 when you’re a guy? Or does the weight just stay the same…” You extended your arms out to question with your shoulders raised slightly, head turned to a 40 degree angle with your eyes still on them. Jordan gave you a bored look with a slight head tilt.

“It stays the same!” You put your hands up in defence. “I understand.” Jordan shook her head, leaning back against the booth seat. She began looking worse for wear, the reality that they might never even come back is daunting on them slowly. And considering the idea of not returning was something on their mind, it scared them a little at just how much they actually loved life. You watched them with curious eyes as she remained silent. Like they were assessing everything over in their heads.

Jordan really want to think about this, but they felt like she didn’t have much time. “What if I go back and I can’t do anything about what’s happening? What if I can’t realise that there’s more taxing and important things going on besides whatever battle I created for myself in my head?”

“Jordan, you coming to the realisation alone should be enough of a push to be the person you actually want to be.” You placed your hand over theirs that was laid on top of the table. To you, Jordan felt warm and to Jordan, you felt cold, a comforting cold that helps you fall asleep easier in a dark room. She didn’t know how to feel about this, but she knew it wasn’t anything malicious or negative, but it was still strange. They didn’t move their hand away. “But what if it’s not enough? What if I’m too stubborn to realise that this isn’t something I want and I can do something–” Before Jordan could even finish the last sentence, you sealed their mouth shut once more.

Jordan sighed through their nose, irritated at being silenced again. But in this case, they understood after realising what they were saying. The constant what if’s is exactly why Jordan always felt the need to second guess themselves. No matter how sure of themselves they are, there was always a small voice in the deepest corner of their psyche, telling her the most obscene things. These are things that they began to believe over time. She never told anyone either. She always felt like they were alone.

Their mouth suddenly opened, you leaning back after looking at Jordan expectantly. “I get it now.” You let out a relief sigh, “I just…don’t want to do this alone. I don’t know what it’s going to be like if I do this alone.”

“You don’t have to do it alone if you don’t want to. You’ll have help. You’ll have someone there every step of the way. I know this.”

“How do you know?” Jordan looked at you, eyebrows raised in question. You sat unmoving, just blinking. It began to grow dark around the both of you, everything just fading away slowly. It brought Jordan unease, big brown eyes flittering around, heartbeat picking up. “What the fuck is happening?” She couldn’t see you clearly anymore, a silhouette in replacement of where your physical body used to be. Jordan began hyperventilating when they couldn’t see a thing anymore. “Hello! Fuck, can anyone hear me? Hello!”

The EKG began beeping rapidly, Marie already on high alert as she sat next to the bed that held a distraught Jordan. Their eyes were still closed but she could see their eyes moving vigorously underneath the lids. She leaned over, gently placing her hand on their arm, “Jordan…Jordan, hey. I’m here. It’s okay, I’m here,” she almost whispered, her hand stroking their arm. Jordan’s eyes opened frantically, jumping up from the laying position he was in turning every which way.

“Hey, you’re okay. You’re here. Thank god, you’re awake!” Marie exclaimed, practically jumping into Jordan’s arms. The door burst open and in came the doctor that was assigned to Jordan. “You’re awake!”

“He’s awake,” Marie couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “What…what happened?” The doctor walked over to the other side of Jordan’s bed, examining his vitals as he began to explain. “You were in a coma for three weeks, Mr Li. We weren’t sure how long it’ll be before you awoke again.” The length of time shocked Jordan to their very core. How has it been three weeks? All that transpired three weeks ago and it felt like it happened in a matter of seconds. Jordan was in disbelief, he couldn’t fathom this from any point in time. His eyes flittered to Marie’s wide ones, her hand grasping theirs as she squeezed it gently. He squeezed it back. “We’ll have to keep for the next two days to monitor your progress, but everything here looks good. Just remember to stay hydrated after you’re discharged.”

Jordan nodded at the words, but didn’t bother taking any of it in. Three weeks? Three fucking weeks and it felt like you and them were just together for mere minutes. It all came flooding back to him in no time and he looked at Marie again, mouth open but nothing coming out. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything what you went through was tough. Cate’s…she’s under surveillance. If you could even call it that. But she’s not coming around any time soon.”

“What happened while I was out?” Marie sighed at the question. She didn’t exactly know how to explain it. Cate didn’t receive any sort of repercussions. After she terrorised the school, she went after Supes who didn’t agree with her and that’s when they began taking everything seriously. Andre was killed (by his own power no less), Sam was captured alongside Cate but were sent to different correctional facilities as to prevent any tyranny. Government involvement meant there were restrictions cracked down on Supes who were and weren’t apart of the sudden uprising.

There was so much more and Marie didn’t even know where to start. “It’s a lot, Jordan.”

Jordan was released two days later, Marie at her side as they walked towards the car waiting for the both of them. They were healed, physically, but mentally…Jordan just wondered what got them back here in the first place. She doesn’t exactly remember making a decision and it wasn’t something she was willing to discuss with Marie just yet. Marie eyed Jordan with worry, she knew something was off by their body language but didn’t want to intrude. It was killing her not to say anything, but knowing Jordan she’ll come around eventually.

“Finally! The comatose vegetable is ripe!”

“Emma, what?”

“I don’t know. I just missed you, Jordy,” the smaller girl’s voice pitched up a bit as she wrapped her arms around Jordan’s torso, squeezing with all her might to convey the amount of yearning Emma had for her presence. The two grew closer from their first meeting to now and Jordan couldn’t help but feel their heart grow in size at Emma’s affection. “I missed you too, Little Cricket.” The hug was cut after she had said that. If looks could kill, Jordan would be dead…again?

They were all about to pile in the car, a conversation being had between Marie and Emma as she hopped into the drivers seat. Jordan turned their head up becoming immediately frigid at the sight in front of her. She didn’t even know you were fucking real, let alone existed on this plane of reality? Is that what you call it? Their name was faintly being called but that was a mile away, she didn’t even feel her feet move until she stood in front of you.

“It’s you. It’s fucking you,” they started before continuing. “What the fuck are you doing here?” You shut the car door, the locking sound engaging. “I’m visiting my grandmot–”

“No, I mean here. This plane of existence. In my world. I thought you were a fucking bridge or something.” Jordan was intimidated by your demeanour, the lean against the car, the foot over the other and you looked calm as ever. Just like limbo and it pissed Jordan off to no end. “I also said I was someone you don’t even pay attention to.” The softened expression on Jordan’s face matched how they felt. They completely mistook what was said at your first meeting and it didn’t even occur to Jordan that you meant face to face. In real time. In reality.

“Who the fuck are they talking to?”

“Beats me.”

“They don’t look a little familiar to you?” Marie shook her head, tilting it a bit before she carried herself over to them. Not that it mattered. Jordan could talk to anyone they wanted, right? They weren’t exclusive or anything. “That’s your Supe power? That’s what Compound V fucking gave you?” Jordan sounded incredulous at your confession just as Marie joined the two of you. As soon as your eyes landed on Marie, your throat felt tight along with your chest. Were you not breathing? “Hey…what’s going on here?”

“I’ll explain later…” Jordan trailed off just as you spoke up and introduced yourself. Marie nodded her head, the usually perplexed expression on her soft features. You couldn’t take your eyes off her, but you didn’t want to make it noticeable. She’ll probably think you’re a loser. “Nice to meet you, I’m Marie,” it grew silent after she answered. And Jordan couldn’t clenched their fist trying to figure out how to get out of this. “I don’t wanna keep you, we should go. I have to rest anyway, you know being in a coma for three weeks can drain the fuck out of you.”

Jordan’s incisiveness threw Marie for a loop and she was confused on the fact on how Jordan knew you. Her arm was being pulled away as Jordan was in front of her before stopping abruptly. “You go on ahead, actually, I think they have something of mine I’m just gonna, yeah,”

“How do you know them, Jordan?”

“I’ll be with you in a sec!” She exclaimed, shoving Marie forward, her expression apologetic. Once Marie was out earshot, Jordan turned back around to you still standing there, eyebrows raised in question. “When you said I wasn’t going to be alone…did you mean…”

“You have a support system, Jordan. And if your friends allow it, I can definitely be apart of that.” Although it was going to be a tough road and it’s going to take some getting used to, everything being different for Supes, Jordan knew it was going to be trial and error. But as long as they had you and the others, they knew they’d be fine. It’s just going to take a bit of convincing for Emma and Marie to warm up to you, especially Marie. You lot had a lot of work cut out for you, but Jordan knew there wasn’t failure for them in the future.

#jordan li #gen v #gen v fic #jordan li x reader #jordan li x gn!reader #marie moreau x reader #mariejordan #jordanmarie #limoreau x reader #marie moreau x gn!reader #limoreau

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southsideserendipity · 23 days

Note

I saw your post about Mikey so I hope this is okay & what you were looking for. Mikey meets a girl that is like sunshine whenever she walks in the room & makes him finally feel worthy/valued so he’ll do anything to make her feel special in return

Sunshine (Mikey Berzatto x Reader)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of weed and alcohol.

Word Count: 4.2k

I found a good boy and he's on my side You're just my eternal sunshine, sunshine

“John, John- you listenin’ to me?!” Mikey was pacing his office, trampling over receipts and month-old sticky notes while aggressively combing his hands through his tussled black hair. “I’ll have your money. When have I not paid you, goombah? I didn’t see the invoice, you should see this fuckin’ office, not enough time to organize this damn shit show” he responded, kicking a stack of papers in the process.

Bending down, he began rummaging through the various papers littering the office floor, attempting to compile them into categories. “John! You there?! Fuck.” Mikey frantically pat himself down, a sudden yearn for nicotine overcoming him. Finding his carton of Marlboros, he slipped the end of a cigarette in the corner of his mouth.

Letting out a sigh, John grunted, “Yeah, I’m here, Mikey. I’ll give you a couple more d-” before being interrupted by the vibrations of Mikey’s phone.

“Fuck me, that jagoff is calling” Mikey thought out loud. “Listen, John, I hear you, you’ll have your money, mmkay? On my ma, I swear to ya, I gotta go though there’s another ball-buster on the other line. K? Ciao.” Before John could respond, Mikey stood up to accept the other call.

“Mark, brother, hey, before you start… I know, I know.” He picked up his phone, taking it off speaker to slip it under his ear. “I— Listen, I know. I hear you. I- Hey, you gon’ let me speak, or wha’?!” Speaking with his hands he continued to pace around the room, his booming voice stifled by the cigarette.

The lunch rush at The Beef was dying down, exposing you to increasingly longer bits of the chaotic conversation occurring in the office. This was Mikey’s typical presentation; disheveled, malnourished, and overexaggerately buzzed off of caffeine, nicotine, and italian-ness. Although he was impossible to reason with in this state, you took it upon yourself to fix him up his favourite; a mortadella sandwich with sundried tomatoes, pesto, and mozzarella.

“You think I don’t know that? Pft, c’mon! Mark, man, you’re killin’ me!” You stood in the doorway, observing Mikey as he stood with one hand on his hip, the other flailing around to exemplify his frustrations. In one of your hands was the plate holding the lunch you made; in the other was a Chicago Bears BIC lighter.

Subtly knocking on the already open office door, Mikey whipped around to face you, his inconvenienced facial expression seamlessly evaporating into his wide-tooth grin. Mouthing ‘meet me outside’ was all it took for him to fake an excuse off of the phone and trail in your footsteps.

Albeit cheesy, you had that captivating effect on him, your hidden-well insecurities and past failed relationships blinding you to the fact that Mikey was infatuated with you. That, in combination with the 15-year age gap between you two. For Mikey, none of those factors changed the fact that you were his daylight, sunshine in human form.

Outside in the back you sat on a milk crate, the pre-Spring Chicagoan air fluttering over your skin. Moments after, Mikey joined you by sitting on an adjacent crate close to you after propping open the door. “Thanks, Bella” he said as he leaned over, his palm squeezing your thigh in an attempt to physically communicate the appreciation he held for your act of service.

You offered out the plate to him, prompting him to begin devouring. He gruffly moaned after taking his first bite. “Mhhhh, shit, this is like Marry Me chicken but in sandwich form.” You giggled in response with your hands resting in your lap, watching as he attacked it hungrily. Mid-bite, he motioned with his head towards the other sandwich on the plate, “Ain’t gonna eat itself, Italiana.”

“I’m not hungry right now, Mike,” you responded, suddenly losing your appetite as you thought of the most effective way to check in on him without him brushing it off. Mikey had a fortified ‘I’ll deal with it maself’ attitude; his hard-headed, traditional Italian, ‘Godfather’ persona caused him to keep you far away from the messes he had gotten himself into. In his eyes, you are more than capable of dealing with life’s bullshit, but his innate urge to protect you from harm’s way and unnecessary stress made it difficult to involve you.

“What was going on in there?” you motioned towards inside with your head. “Ah, nothin’ doll.” He shrugged his shoulders in an attempt to brush off the topic, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Just some bills that need payin’, I got it covered. Business good today? Any jagoffs give you trouble?” He frantically read your face, urgently hoping you’d buy his not-so-discreet attempt at changing the topic.

“C’mon, Mike. Cut the shit. You’re suffocating in that office.” The only person whose bluntness Mikey could listen to happened to also be the only person he’d accept ‘Mike’ from. He took the cigarette that had been hanging from his lips in his office out of his shirt pocket and proceeded to light it. Taking the first drag of it, he flicked it, holding it out to you.

Pursing his lips to blow out his puff, he responded confidently. “I got it all figured out, sunshine. Plus, I got cousin helpin’ me with the books and shit. Just gotta pay back those muthafuckas who keep callin’ me. They’re all, ‘where’s my money!?’” he playfully rolled his eyes, making hand gestures and displaying a funny face as he imitated the callers. You both knew damn well they had every right to be calling him.

“You telling me that Richie is on the books is supposed to bring me a sense of comfort?” Asking him that question with pure seriousness and handing him back the cigarette, Mikey stifled a laugh. “Hey, him and the IRS are like this” he crossed his middle finger over his index while winking and making a clicking noise with his tongue.

“Cousin, where the fuck are the receipt rolls, the office looks like an abandoned and pissed-in office depot” Richie’s exclaiming became increasingly louder the closer he got. “Feels like we change the damn paper in that thing ever- oh shit, pardon my interruption to your rendezvous. Were you guys about to fuck? I can leave” Richie pointed with his thumb towards the kitchen as he sported a fake-worried and devious expression, slowly inching backwards.

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “No one’s fucking anyone, Rich.” Mikey looked to the ground as he faked a chuckle, ignoring the slight pang of hurt in his chest.

“You want a mortadella sandwhich?” You held out the plate to Richie, knowing he couldn’t resist. “Uh, DUH,” Richie grabbed an additional crate to join the two of you, immediately beginning to eat.

“Oh fuck, are you fucking serious right now?! Mikey, if you don’t marry this girl I’ll do it for you. ‘S like a mouf orgathm” Richie had just begun eating yet he already had food on the corners of his mouth. You chuckled, choosing to ignore the marriage comment. “Here, you child. You’re such a slob” you threw him a napkin you had stored in your apron.

“Hey, the real slob is right over there” he pointed directly at Mikey, not even bothering to wipe his mouth but proceeding to take a another massive bite. “Something’s gotta be done about that cesspool of an office,” Richie shook his head disapprovingly, despite also functioning well in chaotic enrivonments. Mikey took yet another drag, the stress of you and Richie’s indirect demand to get his shit together getting to him. “It’s organized chaos, I know where everything is, s’all that matters.”

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This was the third night in a row that you had difficulty falling asleep. You had tried everything in your arsenal of melatonin-producing activities, and yet, your brain was spiraling, most of your thoughts pertaining to Mikey.

You weren’t going to kid yourself. You needed something and you knew exactly who to get it from. Picking up your phone, you made the call.

“Rich?? You awake?” You rolled over to your side, holding yourself up by your elbow and propping your head up with the palm of your hand. “Yeah I’m awake, but why the fuck are you awake, missus?” “I need a favour…”

Richie’s dirty mind figured any call from a woman at this hour was for sex, but he also knew about Mikey’s schoolboy yearn for you and wouldn’t dare make any advancements. The silence on his end was telling. “Not that type of favour, God, Rich! Stop being a man for a second. I need weed.” You huffed out, a whiny tone of desperation heavy in your voice.

“Now that I can help you with” he chuckled.

“YES thank you, Rich, oh my god” You sprung up out of bad as if there were hot rocks in it. “I will meet you at The Beef, okay?!” And that was where he met you.

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You and Richie sat at the back of The Beef, exactly where you had had lunch earlier that day. “You want to do the honours, stoner?” Richie held out the joint and lighter for you. You faked an annoying look and exaggerately took them from him. “I’m not a stoner, Rich. I just have an undiagnosed sleeping problem.” You put the joint between your lips and lit it, taking an ungodly large pull from it.

“Woahhhhh cheech and chong, relax” Richie practically yanked the joint from you. You immediately began coughing as you hadn’t smoked in a while. “What or who the fuck are you trying to forget, Italiana?” Richie’s joking tone didn’t conceal his concern as he took a puff himself. You looked at him, tilting your head to the side to signify confusion.

Richie took another pull before returning the joint to you. “If you’re calling me at 12am to smoke because you couldn’t sleep, it tells me your big brain was overthinking.” You took a moderate inhale this time, the buzz beginning to radiate out to your extremities. “What were you thinking about, Richie? Something tells me you were awake for similar reasons.”

“I’m not sayin’ anything ‘til you do” he responded whilst shrugging.

Making a sour face, you attempted to restore the saliva in your mouth. “I have cotton mouth like a bitch, I’m going to get something to drink. You want anything?” you asked, heading inside before he could interrogate you further. “Get me a brio!” You chuckled to yourself, shouting back “You know you’re not Italian, right?!”

You walked over to the walk-in fridge, grabbing Richie’s Brio and a Fresca for yourself. On the way back out, Mikey’s office door caught your attention, and you suddenly had an idea. “Rich. Oh my god. I know exactly what we can do.”

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“I… I think we just made things worse.” Looking up at Richie in horror, he mirrored your reaction. “Yeah, we fucked up cousin. We’re in some deep shit.”

You and Richie were both sat on the office floor, waist deep in the paper equivalent of a small forest. You took a swig from your Fresca, attempting to decipher where to start. “We can do this. For Mikey. He deserves this, and fuck, let’s face it, he was never gonna do it himself!” You attempted to motivate Richie, knowing his child-like attention span and patience were on their last legs.

Picking up various pieces of paper, you attempted to make sense of them. “Okay… I’ll make one pile for receipts, and I’ll sort them by date, and then-” You felt Richie’s eyes burning a hole into you, causing you to look at him and flail your hands around. “What?!” Impatiently waiting for his response, you began gnawing on the inside of your cheek, nervous that he was onto you.

“You like him.” Richie slowly grinned from ear to ear as he stated it matter o’factly. “You like like him.” You flung your head back and groaned. “‘Like like?’ C’mon, Rich, what are you, 12? Shut the fuck up and help me.” The blood rushed into your cheeks almost immediately at his accusation, the THC physiologically betraying you and making it impossible to put on a front. “You like him. Oh my god. I fuckin’ knew it,” he giggled.

“I don’t know whether it’s the weed or the fact that it’s 3am and I’m reaching the point of delirium, but since I’m not a pre-teen, I’ll admit that you’re not wrong. But it’s never going to happen. He’s mentally ill with a fucked up family and so am I- that doesn’t tend to be the ideal romantic combination. Now, lets finish this so we can still go home and get some rest before shift starts.” You looked at Richie with a stern look; he was shocked at your mini rampage, and internally, you were petrified about the fact that you had just spilt your guts to Mikey’s bestfriend.

“And don’t get any ideas, because this conversation does NOT repeat itself, you hear me, Jerimovich!” When you addressed someone in the kitchen by their last name, they knew you meant business. “Uh-huh, yup, yes ma’am.” Richie gulped, considering you just displayed more emotions in the last 5-minutes than you had for the entire length of time he has known you. It didn’t help that he was beyond stoned and couldn’t quite comprehend the nature of what you had told him.

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“Cousin! What the fuck is this? Why can I see the floor?” Mikey was standing at the doorway of his office in utter disbelief that morning. Richie jogged over peaking his head into the office. “It was Italiana’s doing, she just told me what to do. We were preeeetty fried” he chuckled to himself, recalling last night’s events. “Surprisingly, we didn’t throw anything out. She’s got a real knack for organizing, should’ve let her do this months ago. The IRS and I aren’t going to have anymore beef, see what I did.”

Richie couldn’t keep his big mouth shut. His nervous rambling was an attempt to not tell Mikey about your confession. Knowing how much Mikey admired you, it was killing him to not be able to tell his own bestfriend that the girl of his dreams reciprocated his feelings. Mikey slowly turned to look at Richie, hands still on his hips. “What the fuck did you smoke, crack? Why are you acting all fucked?”

You had walked into the kitchen at perfect timing before Richie blabbed your secret. Going to hang your purse up, Mikey called you over; he didn’t even need to see you to feel your presence. “Italiana, come ‘ere!” You sped walk over and stood in the entrance, your hands folded in front of you with a nervousness. A part of you was worried that messing with Mikey’s ‘organized chaos’ was going to disorient him, but you wanted to lessen the stress he was experiencing. That was what you did for the people you loved; especially the man you loved.

“You did this?” He looked directly at you; despite being an expert in Mikey’s nuances, you couldn’t tell whether he was pissed or overjoyed. “Uh, yeah! It’s all pretty self-explanatory but I can go through it with you if you want? I just thought it’d make your life a lil easier. And Richie’s! Of course.” You rubbed your arm with your hand as a means of self-soothing.

“This is great, Bella. Truly. I can’t believe you went through all this trouble, I mean, I don’t think I’ve seen it look like this ever” he motioned towards the filing cabinet and the paper baskets you had labelled appropriately, using his other hand to comb through his hair in shock. “I couldnt of done it without Richie. And Richie’s weed! It was nothing, Mike” you smiled at him and showed yourself out as nonchalantly as possible.

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You were waiting the last tables of the day - mainly consisting of left behind beer bottles and plastic sandwich baskets - when Mikey came up behind you putting one hand on your waist. “Meet me in the office when you’re done here, yeah?” As he whispered into your ear, you had to keep your knees from buckling. “Yeah, Mike! Okay!” Fucking Richie.

You attempted to stall for the inevitably painful conversation that awaited you, slowly walking towards the kitchen. While washing your hands, your brain began to spiral. Wiping your hands on your apron, you attempted to bravely walk towards the office, standing in the doorway.

“What’s up?” You halted in your tracks almost immediately as you noticed the charcuterie board Mikey was standing in front of and the bottle of red wine in his hands. “Fuck me. Okay, listen.” You walked closer to him. “Before you say anything, I don’t know what Richie said to you, but as someone who doesn’t know the difference between your and you’re, he has no idea what he’s talking about. You didn’t have to do any of this.”

Mikey looked at you like a deer in headlights. “What the fuck are you talking about,” he chuckled. There was that dimpled smile. And now you were confused (and distracted) before you realized Richie didn’t say anything.

“I wanted to thank you for organizing the office…” Mikey explained, twisting the bottle of wine open and pouring you a glass. “I know how much you like your charcuterie. If Starbucks ever stops selling those little boards I’ll wonder what you’re gonna eat.” He earned a laugh from you for joking about your mild salami addiction.

You sported the fakest wide tooth grin you could muster. “Hey, I’m Italian. I can’t help it. I think I’m keeping them in business though” you joked in response. He held out the glass for you and winked. “Thanks, Mike” you smiled, hoping he couldn’t pick up on your nervousness.

“Okay, let me show you what we’ve got here.” He clapped his hands together, excited to introduce you to his concoction of Italian meets and cheeses. Hunched over his desk with both of his hands planted on the surface to support him, he pointed at each meat and cheese as he went through the board’s contents.

“We’ve got cacciatore, prosciutto, mortadella, then I added parmesan - I know how much you like it - along with romano and gorgonzola. I was thinking we can add it to the menu. We’re no hipster yuppies but throw some olives and overpriced crackers on here and I mean, we’re talkin’ business, baby.” Looking up at you, he attempted to read your face for your thoughts.

Mikey was passionate. That was his entire nature. And when he presented you with ideas, he seemed to put your approval and opinion on a pedestal. You had helped significantly with business at The Beef, assisting in bringing Mikey’s visions to fruition while also providing your input where necessary; he valued your insight more than you realized.

Taking a baguette slice, you added cacciatore and parmesan onto it and bit in. “Fuck, Mike.” Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you let out a near moan. “We gotta add this. It could even be part of a date night special. The charcuterie as an antipasto, a soup or salad, a main, and then dessert” you presented.

Mike glanced up at you with a smirk, content with your proposal. “Have I ever told you that I love your brain, Italiana?” You giggled as you continued to devour the board, attempting to ignore his blatantly obvious attempt at flirting as you couldn’t believe he could possibly be interested in you.

The rest of the evening was spent brainstorming business ideas, reminiscing on memories shared between you, Mikey, and Richie, and consuming copious amounts of wine.

“Oh my god, Mike. You remember when Richie tried picking up that blonde girl at the bar with a magic trick, and you- y- oh my god.” You flung your head back as you cackled; you were wine drunk and snortling to the point of incoherence. You were sat across from Mikey who was planted behind his desk, his ankle resting on top of his other knee. His forearms rested on the arms of his chair, and he loosely held a glass of whiskey as he watched you with amusement and a sly grin of admiration.

“You had to go over there and save him from the embarrassment. Poor thing.” You chuckled. “I’m pretty sure the chick he was tryna bag had started flirting with me,” Mikey said, taking a sip of his whiskey and raising his eyebrows as he attempted to recall the events of that evening.

You looked intently at him, not breaking eye contact. “Can you blame her?” The wine encouraged a new-found confidence to emerge from within you. There was no way you would’ve been this direct with Mikey while sober.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mikey leaned forward to put his glass on his desk then returned to his laid back position. With a dumbfounded look on your faced, you laughed then displayed a look of annoyance. “Don’t play stupid. Look at yourself, Mike.” You stood up, put the wine glass down, and rested both of your hands on his desk, leaning forward until you were mere inches away from his face.

Looking into his right eye, glancing down at his lips, and looking back up to his left eye, he began to shift in his seat. It was evident that you were both under a hazy and horny alcohol-induced influence, the sexual tension very obviously suffocating the room. “Now take me home before I say or do something I’ll regret.”

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As Mikey walked you back to your apartment, you held onto the side of his frame with all your might. He guided you through the streets of Chicago with ease; he was nowhere near the level of drunk that you had achieved. “You okay, darlin’?” He looked down, a slight smile on his face as he recognized your drunken effort to walk in a straight line. “Yeah, Mike. Thanks for tonight. No one’s ever gone through such an effort to appreciate me.”

You peered up at him with a smile; you wanted to put into perspective how much his actions meant to you, however, Mikey felt an even stronger urge to spoil you moving forward. Quite frankly, he was bewildered that his small gesture that evening exceeded all that you’ve known.

Arriving to the door of your apartment, you began rummaging through your purse for your keys. Finding them, you held your arm out straight and dangled them in front of Mikey. “You’re gonna need to unlock the door, mister. I do not currently possess the fine motor skills” you joked, earning a laugh from him.

You caught the glimmer in his eyes. Mikey felt like your fierce protector. You both knew you didn’t need protecting- while this was a part of you he admired, his masculinity often fought for dominance; for the chance to show you how well he could look after you and how much you deserved it.

He opened the door, propping it open for you as you stumbled through, immediately attempting to take off your shoes. You hadn’t thought this out thoroughly as you ended up toppling over, Mikey catching you in the process. “Easy, doll. Here, sit down,” he motioned toward the ottoman in the foyer of your apartment, guiding you as you lowered yourself.

He crouched down at your feet and placed the heel of your foot on his thigh, proceeding to untie your shoes. Grasping your ankle one at a time, he wiggled your feet out. You looked down at him, admiring his gentle touch, the concentration present in his furrowed brow; you loved to watch him, whatever he was doing, and you’ve known for a long time that you’ve loved him.

“Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” Holding out both of his hands for you, you stood up, letting him walk you through to your bedroom. You had a case of the over-tired drunken giggles, prompting you to laugh as you slurred your intentions to take off your make-up.

Mikey picked out some pjs for you, then proceeded to pour you a cold glass of water while you got changed. Opening the door to your bedroom, you motioned for him to come inside. “Sleep next to me?” You proposed with a curious tone despite knowing he’d decline as he (annoyingly) insisted on being a respectful gentleman at all times. “S’all good doll, I’ll be good on the couch” he motioned to the living room with his head. “Lemme tuck you in.”

As you got under the covers, Mikey offered you the glass of water to which you happily obliged. Handing it back to him, he placed it on your bedside table as you snuggled yourself into the sheets. He turned off the lamp, the room engulfing with darkness save for the midnight blue hue that the window cast in.

Mikey began to walk out of your room when you called out to him. “Hey Mike, c’mere” you turned over, watching him as he slowly approached. Motioning for him to come closer, you whispered into his ear. “I like like you.”

Knocking out after the words escaped your lips, as if they were made of melatonin, Mikey smiled to himself as he looked down at you. “And I love you, sunshine.”

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EEEEEEEEK my very first Mikey imagine! Which means I am still learning to integrate his personality into my writing- it’s hard when he has extremely minimal screentime. ALSO I am writing this in whatever year Mikey was operating The Beef, so Carmy, Syd, and the others aren’t there, and Richie and Tiff are still together. I am completely open to feedback and would also love to get more requests for Mikey. Let me know what y’all think!!! :)

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paper-mario-wiki · 11 months

Note

Your Trollsona is such a damn cool concept! I love the sheer insanity that the RPS unfolds into and I gotta ask, how does their Captchalogue and Fetch Modi work? Those are always another fun bonus way characters quirks are shown

Not quite!

The Sylladex object recovery and creation system is COMPLETELY separate from the RPS system.

Total mastery of the RPS fractal would be DESTRUCTIVELY OVERPOWERED, considering if you knew exactly how each object interacts with the other, you'd be able to instantly resolve any conflict with a single action no matter what. But this is near impossible because the RPS catalogue accounts for all possible concepts, not all possible objects. This is why a double-sided barcode is used instead of the typical hole punch system. You can't captchalogue a kick in the nose, after all.

Each line in the barcode represents a single binary digit. With each digit added, the amount of possible values goes up exponentially. Within only 10 lines in the barcode, 1024 values are possible. But what's even MORE exponentially gigantic is having it be double sided, because then it squares itself instead of just doubling itself. So a two-sided ticker tape with 10 bars on each side would be 1024^2, or 1,048,576 different values. And that's with a code that fits within the circumference of a nickel.

However, if you refer back to the gif with the ticker in it:

That's WAY more than a nickel's length.

And that’s an absolute necessity, because every possible concept must be accounted for. The system is pretty fucking wildly, multiversally, insanely gigantic. Hence the need for extremely dense data to get anywhere.

And even then, the bar code doesn’t actually grant you access to the item that its value represents. The only thing it does get you is access to all relative values, or everything that interacts with that object in a meaningful way. The RPS Chart acts as a gigantic excel spreadsheet which catalogs and calculates how one thing could reasonably negate, counteract, subvert, or otherwise destroy another thing, and vice versa.

You can't just KNOW where something is on a fractal, you have to find it. Like how theoretically you could find every single number combination within the digits of pi, but you'd still have to go looking for it.

Imagine it like playing the Wikipedia game, where you can only get from one place to another by clicking through links on pages, except instead of words with context on a screen, it’s dozens to thousands of arbitrary binary digits. The longer the code, the more quantumly hyper-specific the item.

You're going to have a lot easier of a time finding "cup of water" than you are "Betty McLaughlin's Red Diary From 1997".

This is why Kippyr has to spend as much time studying it as they do, because navigating through the chart with any amount of grace would take several human lifetimes to accomplish. However, with the Seer of Mind classpect, as well as their countless hours of diligent observation and experimentation with the chart, Kippyr is able to gracefully navigate through the fractals with the instinctual finesse of a sea turtle in an underwater slipstream.

NOW. Onto the topic of a Fetch Modus.

Kippyr is a slow adopter of it. Fetch modi are not a necessary element in the Homestuck world’s set of natural laws. For the majority of their life, Kippyr'd prefer to just use their satchel and pockets to carry all their stuff around. But as they progress further into Sgrub, and their session becomes more demanding and complex, they’d eventually develop one that works seamlessly with the RPS system:

The RPS Modi. The way it works is simple: Just throw the shape of the object which would beat the object you’re looking for. If you wanted Rock, you’d throw Paper, if you wanted Paper you’d throw Scissors, and if you wanted Scissors you’d throw Rock.

Simple! Just don't forget the hand shapes :^]

#rikuredo #homestuck

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ravensliterature · 1 year

Text

Embers at Dinner

A/N: Not really anything for me to say on this one

pairing: Zuko x Reader

warnings: Primarily fluff,

w/c: 529

Request:

Can you write a Chubby fem reader x Zuko?

Reader is watching Zuko train whilst preparing dinner for the Avatar gang. During dinner time Reader gets cold and so Zuko sits really close wrapping an arm around her waist. Reader is in disbelief and is getting flustered and He says something like “Are you not hungry? Come on sweets, I’ll eat your dinner if you don’t want to, you know I had to work up a sweat this afternoon because a certain pretty girl wouldn’t take her eyes off me”

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The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow over the Fire Nation palace as the Avatar gang gathered for dinner. The tantalizing aroma of spices filled the air as the gang settled around the table, eagerly awaiting the meal prepared by the gang’s signature cook, Y/N.

Y/N had spent the better part of the day in the kitchen, her focus divided between the stove and the courtyard where Zuko trained diligently. Every now and then, her gaze would wander toward the Fire Prince, captivated by his agility and determination.

Zuko's fiery movements were mesmerizing, his body flowing seamlessly through a series of precise strikes and defensive maneuvers. The sweat glistened on his forehead as he pushed himself, embodying the fierce determination that had come to define him. Y/N couldn't help but admire his dedication and the way his muscles flexed with each movement.

You shook your head snapping your daydreaming, focusing on the dinner before you. As the dishes were laid out, Y/N couldn't help but feel a chill creep into the room. She hugged her arms to her sides, shivering slightly. Zuko, noticing her discomfort, paused mid-conversation and turned his gaze towards her.

"Are you cold?" Zuko asked, his voice laced with genuine concern.

Y/N blushed, surprised by the sudden attention. "Uh, y-yeah. It's getting chilly."

Without a moment's hesitation, Zuko scooted closer to her, his arm snaking around her waist, providing a comforting warmth. Y/N's heart skipped a beat, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink.

Zuko smirked, his golden eyes dancing with mischief. "Are you not hungry? Come on, pepper, I'll eat your dinner if you don't want to. You know, I had to work up a sweat this afternoon because a certain pretty girl wouldn't take her eyes off me."

Y/N's jaw dropped, a mix of surprise and flustered disbelief flooding her senses. Her heart pounded in her chest as she mustered a weak protest. "Zuko, you're being ridiculous."

His smug grin only widened as he leaned in closer, his warm breath grazing her ear. "Maybe I am, but you have to admit, it's fun to see you all flustered."

Y/N's blush intensified, and she couldn't help but playfully swat his arm. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Zuko's laughter resonated through the room, filling the air with a joyous melody. "Only for you, my sweet firecracker."

As the rest of the gang looked on with knowing smiles, Y/N couldn't help but realize how lucky she was to have Zuko in her life. And in that moment, surrounded by warmth, laughter, and the scent of a delicious meal, she knew that their connection burned brighter than any flame.

The rest of the evening passed in a haze of lighthearted banter and shared glances. Zuko's arm remained securely around Y/N's waist, creating a sense of comfort and intimacy that she had never experienced before. The dinner table seemed to fade into the background as their attention remained fixated on each other.

As the meal drew to a close, Zuko suggested taking a stroll in the palace gardens. Y/N eagerly agreed, relishing your time together.

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Submit a request here

#avatar #avatar the legend of korra #avatar the last airbender #zuko #zuko x reader #fire lord zuko #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #fire lord x reader #fire lord zuko x reader #fire lord zuko x you #fire lord zuko x y/n

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lawscorazon · 2 years

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐑. 𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐟𝐭. 𝐯. 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧

minors do not interact.┊2.9k words

“you know i hate messes, including the filthy little whores that make them”

content warning: dom!mr. clean x fem!reader, pet names (messy girl, good girl, pretty girl, doll, baby), masturbation (reader receiving), breath play, squirting, voyeur!mr. clean, degradation (slut, whore), praise kink, fellatio, unprotected sex, cream pie (no breeding kink), couch sex, full nelson, pussy spanking, pain play, cum eating, fingering, no beta we die like men

⊹˚. ♡ i have no regrets

that mr. clean commercial really did something to you.

you felt a little ashamed, really— finding the older man attractive, but the way he worked that mop just did it for you every time. he handled it with such care like caressing a lover's body. his strong, calloused hands gripped the pole firmly as he pushed it across the floors. his built stature withstood the test of time, each muscle bulging and flexing with every movement of the mop.

you couldn’t get over the way his neatly pressed clothing clung to his body leaving very little to the imagination. the white fabric pulled taut over his broad chest blanketing endless planes of bronzed skin. his pebbled nipples poked through tempting you, daring you to take them between your teeth. you imagined what kind of moans he’d make. or maybe he was a grunter…

that tight ass that filled out his trousers so seamlessly could be registered as a lethal weapon if you dared to bounce a quarter off it. the way he rolled his wide hips as he worked his way across the hard wood and that million dollar smile he flashed knowingly into the camera. he knew what he was doing. he was teasing you.

and it was working.

sitting on the couch, you threw your phone aside to dip your hand into your panties, running your fingers through your honeyed lips. your heartbeat stuttered a nervous rhythm as the obscene sounds of your wet pussy filled the room. your cheeks grew hot at the depravity of it all. this was so embarrassing. having the hots for the sexy janitor? but no one had to know. this would be your little secret between you and the man behind the screen.

you slowly dipped your finger in your wet cunt giving it a few experimental thrusts before joining in another. soft moans floated from your lips as you stretched yourself out slowly. you imagined how mr. clean’s thick fingers would fill you up, how they’d run through your folds teasingly just how he did the mop, gripping your plush thighs like a sponge.

you reasoned that his fingers would be munch bigger than yours and decided to slip in a third finger. the stretch had your cunt clenching hard around your digits. your back arched off the couch as you snapped your head back, mouth gaping into a pornographic “o” as you cried out in pleasure.

you gripped the throw pillows that decorated the furniture like a lifeline, the only thing that grounded you into reality as your head floated into the heavens.

feeling the familiar knot in your belly begin to pull taught, you increased your speed fucking yourself with such brisk and hard thrusts that had your toes curly in ecstasy. the even pace was impossible to keep; your movements quickly grew uncoordinated and messy. your arms burned with fatigue while your mind grew foggy from lust. needy mewls escaped your throat and your eyebrows crinkled in frustration, so desperate to reach your end that was so dangerously close.

you slid your hand over your chest covered by the oversized white t shirt you liked to pretend was his, tweaking one of your nipples to further yourself along before trailing up further to wrap your hands around your throat and squeezing gently imagining they were his.

the haze of euphoria and oxygen deprivation was dizzying, heightening the mind numbing sensation of each drag of your fingers against your sensitive walls. you choked out a few moans feeling your pussy spasm as the knot in your stomach pulled taught with agonizing tension before it snapped. you seized up, mouth open in a silent scream before crashing back down into the couch breath ragged and unsteady as you came down from the best high you’ve had in awhile.

and from lusting after mr. clean at that.

you removed your hand from your aching cunt with a small moan, eyes still shut tightly as you waited for you soul to return to your body. you wiped your messy and pruney fingers on your shirt already beginning to feel shame creep up on you.

eyes fluttering open, you almost shit yourself as you screamed seeing the bald man in front of you, cleaning up with puddle that stained your floors with his magic eraser.

your heartbeat was beating so loudly in your ears it was deafening. you didn’t even realize you squirted and who the fuck was this man in your house??

when he looked up at you, face handsome and aged like that finest of wines, bushy white brows quirked as he flashed that same knowing grin, you instantly recognized him. you felt need begin to bleed into you once more.

“such a messy girl,” he tutted as he stood from his kneeling position on the floor, earning him some crackles through his knees.

“mr. clean….” you gasped, in complete disbelief that he was actually here. “how…? “ you began, eyes seeming to travel endless as you lifted your gaze to meet his towering stature.

“magic,” he spoke in a dazzling whisper. a low chuckle shook his chest as he dangled the magic sponge in his hand.

“b-but—“

“you know, a pretty girl like you should really clean up after yourself. a spill like that would surely leave stains if left to seep into the grain of the wood. you should know better,” he spoke, a slight condescending lilt in his deep voice as he wiped his hands off on a clean white towel from his back pocket.

the slight hint of disappointment in his voice, made your heart sink a little in your chest. the man of your dreams was standing right here in your living room and he was displeased with you.

“im sorry mr. clean, i didn’t know. i was—” you began to apologize before the words stuck to your throat like peanut butter feeling the rough pad of his hand caress your cheek. you leaned into his touch with a gentle purr, melting into the embrace.

“you know i hate messes,” he cooed, words flowing so gently and sweetly from his lips, complimenting the subtle crease in his eyes as he smiled down at you, “including the filthy little whores that make them.”

it took you a moment to register his words having been lost in his affection. upon your realization, your doe eyes widened slowly to a frightful width as you lifted your head from his palm.

“mr. clean…” you spoke his name with disbelief on your tongue, yet still so soft and so innocent. the older man revealed in your cute reaction, his kind smile never faultering as he grazed your adorable frightened face with his knuckles. your obedience stirred something in him, so pliable and so reactive to his touch.

“we’re gonna practice cleaning up together, is that alright with you, doll?” he asked kindly, but something in his tone denoted that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. you nodded eagerly, your empty cunt fluttering around nothing at the sensual tone of his words. “but first, we need to make a mess,” he added, rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip. “may i borrow that pretty little mouth of yours?”

you nodded, taking the thick digit into your mouth nervously, swirling your tongue around it. mr. clean dipped his finger deeper into your mouth guiding you to take more of him.

“you’re a good little slut, aren’t you?” he hummed in approval.

his convoluted praise made your heart flutter in your chest. you’d do anything for any ounce of recognition from that man, so eager to please him.

he removed his thumb from your mouth with a satisfied smirk. “i think you know what happens next…”

and you did. you did know what happened next. your mouth watered for it, already anticipating the weight of his cock on your tongue, eager to see if it looked and tasted as good as you imagined.

the couch ruffled as you shifted onto your knees, now eye level with mr. clean’s pelvis. he watched as you pawed at the growing bulge in his white trousers, eliciting a low growl from him. you quickly worked to unbutton his them, pulling his half hard cock from his briefs.

your senses were immediately hit with the clean scent of lemon breeze that wafted from his groin. you marveled at the way his cock grew in your palm as you stroked him to his full length. it was everything you imagined it to be and more. his neatly trimmed pubes decorated his pelvis like the first dusting of snow on a winter afternoon, standing out vividly against the tan skin below his waist only a half shade lighter than that of the rest of his body. he was hot and heavy in your hand with pretty veins trailing on the underside of his cock. his head was thick and rosy with arousal, glistening with the precum that you spread over his slit with your thumb.

mr. clean’s breath began to deepen and you worked him up, an occasional groan vibrating his chest. you placed a gentle kiss on the sweet spot below his head causing him to twitch in your grasp. a proud smile curled your lips. when you drew a long strip up the underside of his shaft before followed by a few kitten licks on his sensitive head, his hand found your hair, stroking it slightly while subtly urging you to take more of him into your mouth.

you obliged, wrapping your plush lips around the head of his cock, suckling gently on it. the older man groaned above you, digging his nails into your scalp.

“don’t tease” was his short command, his voice gruff and noticeable tense as he sank your head further down his length, puffing air through his nose.

you took him all, the head of his cock kissing your soft palate. releasing him with a gag, you swallowed his length again, bobbing your head around him at a quick pace, hands gripped firmly on his waist.

mr. clean grunted above you, hips rutting into the wet heat of your mouth with low growls in perfect time with your own movements. it was then that the constraints of his cotton tee became stifling. he pulled it over his head and off his body to reveal his golden chest that laid hidden beneath like the finest of treasure. and you just won the jackpot.

you stared up at the man lecherously, gaze low and slutty as you drank in the sight of him before you. your eyes followed the snow white happy trail that snaked up his toned abs cushioned by a thin layer of plush before it spread out over his big burly chest. mr. clean was the perfect picture of human anatomy, truly carved by the steady hands of the god’s.

a smug grin tugged at the lewd sight below him: your lusty expression, damped lashes, and surprisingly clean chin. you were learning…

“that’s enough,” he spoke firmly, pulling you off him, you pouted in protest, already beginning to feel drunk off his cock. or maybe it was the fumes?

you let out a yelp as mr.clean lifted you off the couch with one swift movement like you weighed next to nothing. a mere rag doll for him to throw around and fuck as he pleased. he took his seat on the couch, sitting you down on his lap with your back pressed to his chest.

“so here’s what's gonna happen next,” he growled into your ear. his voice was so low and gruff that it sent goosebumps washing over your skin. “i’m gonna fuck you, okay? and you’re gonna take what i give you. and when i’m done, you’re gonna clean up whatever filthy mess that whore cunt of yours makes, do you understand?”

“yes, mr. clean,” you breathed out. your body grew hot at his words. everything about him was so sexy. he was pulling at every single one of your strings, already knowing exactly how to make you sing for him. your clit throbbed at a steady rhythm while your dripping cunt squelched as you clamped your thighs together, creating such a sinful melody.

it was music to the older man’s ears. he hummed in delight, eyes closed fondly hearing you moan against his ear, head falling back onto his shoulder as he sunk into your sopping cunt.

“shit. slutty fucking pussy sucking me in…” he muttered to himself, his words trailing off as he began to get lost in your warmth.

he took your waist in his big hands, raising you slightly off his chest. you positioned your trembling legs on the edge of the couch to support yourself.

you barely got yourself situated before he began pounding into you, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each hard thrust.

you arched your arch back further away from him feeling white hot pleasure zip through your veins and he stretched you out with each thrust, the thick ridges on his cock rubbing and dragging against all the right places that had you seeing stars that twinkled that freshly cleaned glass.

he expertly manhandled your body. so wise and experienced in his old age. you wondered how many women he’s fucked like this — seducing them with his sultry moves, alluring them with his hot bod and his helpful hands. the same hands that held a bruising grip on your waist as he drilled himself into you while grunting through clenched teeth.

your breast sloshed around like water in the air as shameless cries ripped from your throat. mr. clean couldn’t even make them out if he tried, the sounds going out in hiccuped moans and broken syllables. he felt his cock twitch at the sound of you being so drunk off him. he wished he could see that cute little face of yours lost in the pleasure only he could give you.

he knew he wouldn’t last much longer like this. not with you clenching around him like that. he needed to wrap this up but not before making sure you finished first.

he released his grip on your hip to reach around and smack your puffy clit repeatedly almost causing your legs to give out from under you at the delicious mix of pleasure and pain it created.

“look at this greedy little cunt trying to milk me dry,” he goaded. you could hear the satisfied smile on his lips from behind you. “want me to fill you up, is that right?”

you could only moan at his lewd words, their implication only spurring you on. your cunt fluttered around him in anticipation.

the action was not missed by him, hissing in pleasure as you clenched around him. “ i bet you’d —hah— i bet you’d like that, whore, hm?” he huffed out, his breath ragged as he approached his end.

when all you responded with were helpless whimpers he pinched your clit, returning your focus back onto him.

“y-yes!! yes!! g’nna cum!” you squealed, feeling warmth begin to spread through your body like wildfire so close to engulfing you in pleasure.

“that’s it, baby. be a good girl and come all over my cock,” he spoke, as he left wet open mouth kisses all over your neck and ears.

that was the last push needed to end you over the edge, your eyes rolling back into your head as your body tensed, imploding in all consuming flames as you came hard around his cock, leaving thick white cream at the base.

mr. clean followed after you, mercilessly fucking into you with messy strokes, pumping hot ropes of cum into you with a steady pulse.

he pulled out, watching from below as his cum dropped from your spent pussy and onto his stomach in thick white globs.

he dumped your limp body on the couch next to him, eyeing you in mild annoyance while you laid there to catch your breath.

“go on. get to work,” he commanded. “or have you learned nothing?”

mind still fuzzy, you sat and positioned yourself to kneel at his side before bending over to clean up your mess like you promised you would.

he watched lecherously as you lapped up your combined cum off his abs making sure not to waste a single drop. he felt his dick twitch to life again when you looked up from his lap with such a fucked out expression on your face, showing off the white cream on your tongue before swallowinng it down. he could barely hide the look of amazement on his face.

maybe there was a better clean than mr. clean.

“now, that wasn’t so hard, was it, dear?” he asked, his gentle smile returning to his face.

you felt pride swell in his chest when he looked at you, gently petting your hair with his palms, so happy to have pleased him.

“for more cleaning tips visit mycleanbook.ca” he whispered into your ear, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead before disappearing into thin air, leaving a cloud of sparkles and that clean lemon scent that you’d cherish for days to come.

“mr. clean, mr. clean, mr. clean…” you sang gently to yourself, settling further into the cushions, satisfied with a job well done.

#: @satorhime @thicksimpx @gabzlovesu @rowan-rites @hajitonin @thegrandlinesimp @imperatorkhaleesi @lvlyone

#mr. clean fic

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oogaboogasphincter · 8 months

Text

black jaguar | dave york x f!reader

dave returns home from a job and can’t wait to indulge in you.

word count/warnings: 1.1k+ words // EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY) MDNI!: reader and dave are married, reader has no physical description other than she has stretch marks, slight dub-con due to consensual somnophilia, primal kink like woah, masturbation (m and f), marking/love bites, mild blood mentions, dave is dark!coded and like slightly possessed in this bc it’s spooky season babyyy hehe 😈

a/n: i’m so excited to be participating in kinktober this year! i’m not following a specified prompt list or anything, but i have four pieces planned that i’ll release throughout the month (and possibly a series that i’ve been working on, but it might need more time to develop tbh) i hope you enjoy! <3

Dave comes into your bedroom and shuts the door behind him impossibly quiet, leaving you undisturbed in your peaceful slumber. The bottoms of his boots stick to the carpet, the blood of his slain enemy cloying with the fibers, and root him to the spot. The smart decision would’ve been to take them off downstairs and not trail evidence throughout the house, but right now, his rationality is plagued by a fog of desire; a ravenous compulsion clawing its way from his stomach and tearing pangs of hunger, thirst up his throat, leftover adrenaline from his job webbing the whites of his eyes with red. From the foot of your bed, he greedily drinks in the image of his perfect wife and plots his feast.

Your cheek is turned on the pillow, the eerie moonbeams that stream in through the window are reborn into holy light as they touch your face. On your stomach, one leg is hiked up, exposing your glistening core. A vibrator lays dormant just out of reach of your hand and there’s a wet spot on the sheets betwixt your thighs.

This is the only time that Dave allowed you to touch yourself, when he was away on a job. You would fret so much over him, wondering and worrying which dark corner of the world he found himself in, what morally questionable people he came into contact with, what dangerous conditions he had thrown himself into this time… all in the name of making sure he could take care of you. There was no other option but to fuck your self stupid in order to fall asleep every night. Of course, it was nothing like his brand of ecstasy, but it had to be enough to tide you over until he returned.

His gloves, ripped from his impatience to get them off, follow his bloodied jacket to the floor. He prowls forward with footsteps that hold the weight of the world but don’t make a sound. He sits next to you on your side of the bed, leaning in so close he can smell your arousal, surrendering his control to your allure like the tides to the moon. He studies your body, assessing exactly where he’d like to lay claim tonight. His lips, chapped from the bitter chill outside, press against your naked lower back in a litany of kisses, prepping your skin for his impending release.

Unable to stave off the craving any longer, he takes his cock out of his slacks and begins dragging his fingers along his length, stroking himself to hardness until the veins that run perpendicular to his girth are rigid with depravity. Resting on his forearm, he drops his nose down to the sheets and nestles the pool of slick you left in your wake, a groan shaking up his back and rumbling through his teeth. He drags his tongue along the wet spot, grunting with a newfound softness at your taste. Your essence is so sweet, so honest; deep down in his heart, he feels unworthy of such salvation, but he keeps gorging on you in the hopes that some of your purity might lodge itself in his heart.

His eyes rove over the slopes of your body, seamlessly riding along your every curve with awe. He reaches his fingers out to touch you for the first time in weeks and it’s like he’s been struck with a lightning bolt. Heart rate picks up, sweat breaks out on his forehead, his hips hump the air in a pathetic jolt. He traces the stretch marks that encircle your hips, dipping into the deeper ones like a ravine and following their length with reverence, swept away by their current.

His touch falls over your ass, depositing him at the precious apex of your thighs. With surgical precision, keeping you suspended in the dream realm, he finds his way into your folds and gathers some of your fresh wetness. It’s like you could sense that he’s there, priming your body for him subconsciously. Bringing it to his mouth and engulfing it, he doesn’t allow himself to drink directly from you because he’s entertained enough sins tonight. Tainting your sweetness with his stroke of malevolence would be irredeemable.

But Dave is far from a saint. His rough fingertips slink to your clit and circle it, eliciting some soft whimpers from your parted lips. His grip on his cock tightens at your sounds, gliding from base to tip at a frenzied speed. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to burst so soon, because the sight of your angelic form only propels him toward his peak. With his other senses heightened, your arousal feels even more luscious against his fingers; your sleepy, pitiful moans worm into his mind and make a deep magenta pound behind his eyelids. The air in his lungs is knocked out of him, a choked-out gasp squeezing out of his chest.

Some primal urge maws its way from inside his bones and unleashes itself in his body, flooding him with a raw mixture of possessiveness and love. Hunched over your back, he lurches forward and takes the flesh of where your neck and shoulder meet between his teeth as he comes hard, growling lowly in your ear. You awaken with a gasp, but not one of distaste; your voice quickly melts into a passionate moan as you recognize the distinct timbre that underlines Dave’s groaning. If it were anyone else but Dave, his sounds would be dramatic, silly even. But you know he’s not putting on any kind of show, that those animalistic sounds reverberate from his chest organically, and it puts a satisfied grin on your face.

The sticky drops of his release land on your lower back, their paths curving with the slope of your body. Once he’s emptied himself completely, Dave puts a hand in between your shoulder blades, keeping you pinned beneath him for his viewing pleasure. He stares at your marked skin, from the translucent glimmer of sweat and spend on your back to the bite on your neck that is already blooming purple with blood. He collapses and molds himself to you, pressing dainty kisses to your neck as his instinct to nurture begins stemming back into his psyche. His fingers ghost against your wound almost apologetically. Almost.

He would feel a little more remorseful if it weren’t for the adoring glow in your eyes when you finally meet his gaze. God, he’d been aching to see you. He practically has a portfolio of you in his mind, countless memories that he can replay like film whenever he chooses, but nothing will ever come close to simply being in your presence. For the first time since he left you, a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Your mirror it, as his true counterpart.

“Welcome home.”

main masterlist ♡ join my taglist!

💘taglist (if you’re crossed out it means i couldn’t tag you): @pascalpanic @melody13522 @tenderwhat @maievdenoir @pedrostories @uncassettodiricordi @harriedandharassed

#dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x f!reader #dave york x afab!reader #dave york x you #pedro pascal characters #kinktober 2023 #love bites

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