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#and it’s looking like it’s only going to get worse so
melzula · 2 days
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Ok hear me out. Reader and Zuko go on a run for supplies .Reader makes a mistakes and almost gets seriously hurt/ near death experience. Zuko gets pissed at reader, maybe yells at her. Reader laughs it off and acts like she doesn’t gaf. Zuko later finds reader all shaken up and crying by herself. Love if you don’t, love if you do!
a/n: ty for requesting and hope you enjoy anon !
summary: zuko apologizes and receives something in return
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What was meant to be a simple trip into town for supplies had quickly turned into a disaster, and Zuko believed it was your recklessness to blame.
You’d been too preoccupied in admiring a local merchant’s vast collection of sea shells to notice the Fire Nation soldier creeping up behind you, and if not for Zuko shoving you out of the way to take on the man himself you surely would have been burnt alive. Your failure to stay aware of your surroundings and lackadaisical attitude had almost gotten you killed, and the Prince made sure to point this out to you afterward.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?!” He scolds you after dragging you out of the marketplace by the arm and back towards camp.
“I was looking at shells, actually, before you so rudely interrupted,” you correct with an impatient roll of your eyes, but the act only seems to annoy him further.
“This isn’t a game, y/n! We didn’t come here to mess around, we came to quickly get more food and go, and we couldn’t even do that because you were too busy looking at stupid shells to notice your surroundings! You could have been hurt or worse!”
“Relax, ‘your highness,’” you dismiss him defensively, harshly yanking your arm away from his grasp. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not dead. I’m fine. You need to stop overreacting and leave me alone!”
Zuko watches with a scowl as you stomp away from him and towards your tent, ignoring the quizzical looks your friends send your way as you shut the flaps closed.
“What’s her problem?” Toph asks with a raised brow from her spot beside the campfire.
“What did you do?” Katara snaps at the boy with an accusatory glare.
“I didn’t do anything!” Zuko exclaims defensively. “As a matter of fact, I just saved her life and now she’s mad at me!”
“Saved her life? What happened out there?” Aang questions with a worried frown. “Was anyone hurt?”
“A Fire Nation soldier snuck up on her while she was distracted and was about to strike before I pushed y/n out of the way and fought him myself.”
“So… what you’re saying is you guys didn’t get any food?” Sokka notes dejectedly only to receive a scolding smack upside the head from his sister.
“If you saved her life, then why is she so upset?”
“I may have been a bit harsh with her after,” Zuko admits reluctantly, awkwardly grasping at the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to snap at her, but I was just frustrated that she wasn’t taking her own safety seriously.”
“Look, that’s just how y/n is sometimes. She’s too trusting of her surroundings sometimes, but you have to gently remind her to be careful,” Sokka explains to his friend. “Maybe if you hadn’t yelled at her she would have taken you seriously.”
“Just give her some time to cool off and apologize later,” Katara advises the fire bender. “She just needs her space.”
Frustrated, Zuko lets out a long sigh before ultimately relenting. Katara is right. He just needs to give you some space to process before bothering you again.
By nightfall the moon has risen in the sky and the rest of your group has called it a day, retreating to their tents to sleep and rest for whatever tomorrow may bring. You still haven’t set foot out of yours since Zuko yelled at you, and the Prince has spent the better half of his day groveling outside waiting for you to emerge. He’s beginning to grow impatient, but he’s also extremely worried. You missed dinner, and no one has been able to get you to come out.
Deciding enough is enough, Zuko takes it upon himself to barge into your tent and check on you. Better you be mad at him for invading your space without permission than for something to be wrong with you without anyone knowing.
When he enters your tent the last thing he expects to find is your figure curled up in your sleeping bag crying. Your body trembles under the blankets and your quiet sniffles are the only sound in the space. If you notice his presence you don’t acknowledge it, and Zuko hesitates before carefully sitting himself beside you.
“Y/n?” He calls out softly, gently pulling the covers back to get a look at your face. Water marks line across your cheeks from tears that had managed to dry off your skin, and it takes you a moment to finally meet his gaze.
“I’m sorry for making you mad,” you whisper meekly, voice cracking with effort after hours of minimal use.
“No, you don’t have to apologize. I should be apologizing for how I acted,” he assures you sincerely, carefully wiping away your remaining tears. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I was just worried about your safety- I’m not sure what I would have done if something bad had happened to you.”
“You really mean that?” You sniffle, looking up at him with doubt clear in your eyes.
“Of course I do. I know it probably didn’t seem that way when I was yelling at you, but I’ve come to care a lot for you, and I’d hate to see you get hurt.”
“I didn’t know…” you murmur quietly as you carefully sit up from your sleeping bag to reach eye level with the Prince. “I always figured you just saw me as some annoying girl you had to babysit.”
“Well, maybe at first,” he admits with a sheepish chuckle only to immediately stop when he catches your unamused glare, “but now I look forward to being sent to the market with you. I enjoy your company even if it means having to be more vigilant of our surroundings on your behalf. Can you just promise me that next time you’ll be a little more careful?”
“I promise,” you nod earnestly and, much to Zuko’s surprise, pull him in for a tight hug. He stiffens at first, unsure how to react to the close contact, but eventually he’s able to allow himself a chance to enjoy your warmth and reciprocate your embrace.
Only you could have the grumpy Prince wrapped so tightly around your finger.
| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy
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hauntedrain · 2 days
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I Want To Be Home | Charles Leclerc x Fem! Reader |
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Summary: Charles gets worried about leaving for the first race of the season, believing he's a bad father and husband for doing so. which leads to a late-night conversation.
✮▹A/N: This is pretty short but it was something I just randomly thought about so I felt the need to write it down, that being said I'm sorry if it's bad or anything.
✰▹Warnings/Notices: Use of Milo as kid name, slight angst? if you squint. Comfort/fluff. Worried Charles. NOT EDITED.
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Charles never liked leaving for races ever since he had his kid. He hated it. He didn't want to leave you guys, especially considering anything could happen while he's gone. But what he feared the most about leaving home was missing something fundamental in his kids' life or yours.
He felt like if he missed anything he would be the worse father in the world. This is why when the F1 season came back around after winter break you had to remind him that there's nothing wrong in doing his job and something he's passionate about. This is where this late-night talk formed,
"Ma chérie, what if you get hurt or Milo gets hurt? I can't come back and be here for you." He said while turning completely over to fully look at you.
"Like I said, your family will be here to help if needed, and it's your job char. The team needs you." You said as you pulled yourself closer to him as to get more comfortable with him.
It was pretty late as you already put Milo to bed and got everything sorted for tomorrow, but Charles, he didn't want tomorrow to come as he didn't want to get ready to leave for the first race of the season.
"I get that the team needs me but my family needs me more. Milo is still so tiny, love. I wanna be with him, especially right now."
"Charles, I promise you It'll be okay." You said while messing with his hair a bit as he lowered his head to lay on your chest.
"I feel like a terrible person for leaving like it's a crime. Not only leaving Milo but also leaving you. Like a bad father and husband."
"You're not a bad person and definitely not a bad father or husband. It's okay, if anything we'll come see you at a race as soon as possible. Also, it's not like you don't usually come home between races when possible." you said while running your hands through his hair, he moved a little closer to you before putting his face between your neck and shoulder.
"Ma chérie, Please promise me that you'll call me whenever you need me, or if it's anything with Milo. Please?" He said as he moved to lean a bit more over you. "Please?" he moved back to look you fully in the eyes as he waited for you to respond.
"Of course Char, Always," you said while giving him a peck on the cheek. "But for right now you should probably go to sleep."
From the little light in the room, you could see him smile a bit before he gave you a kiss and laid back down. "Come here, let me hold you."
"You don't have to ask twice."
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⭒❃.✮:▹A/N: This is super short and potentially not the best, but like I said it was something that randomly came to me. But nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it and that you like it. Love you pookies.
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 days
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How high on the clingy/protective scale these boys are …
Dick: a solid 8.5/10.
A very clingy bean.
Dick would be attached to your hip 24/7 if he could but he couldn’t answer that makes him sad.
In the wise words of @obsessedwithromance on one of my recent posts; ‘if Dick was a dog, he’d be a husky.’
And he’d make a very vocal husky at that with how often he whines and whinges whenever you tried to move from his grasp, acting as though every attempt in removing yourself from his arms were an attack against his character. So he will take personal offence to you wanting to leave him out in the cold and desolate place that was your bedroom. 💀
‘Stop trying to get out of my arms.’ He moans, tightening his hold on you as he buried his head into your neck, locking legs with you for extra measure. ‘Dick, I love you but you’re being too clingy for me right now.’ You reply and had just noticed the error of your ways almost immediately and were about to explain yourself but it was already too late, for you had set Dick the human husky off.
‘Me? Clingy? I thought you liked it when I was clingy? Why the sudden change? What did I do wrong? Why don’t you love me?’ Dick began his tirade and you could only lay there and let him talk your ear off -and loudly might I add- about how you apparently didn’t love him enough, which was a bunch of bullshit, but dick was too in his feelings to listen to reason. You’ll have to kiss him to shut him up, there’s no other option.
So once he’s settled down, he’ll go back to cuddling against your back,smiling dopily while you could only congratulate for a job well done at defusing the situation form getting any worse. You love your dramatic human husky and you wouldn’t change anything for anyone.
Jason: 7.5/10 or a 8/10.
The only time you’re seeing this man be clingy as all hell if he’s in a particular mood and want your affection, which might as well be all the time with this man, or after a not so great nightmare.
He would wake up in a cold sweat and immediately look for you and hold you against his chest as though you were his personal teddy bear, only just until his breathing evens out and not so tense in the muscles. Until then he holds onto you tightly and familiarises himself with you in anyway that he could, whether that be counting your eyelashes, noting the different shades that make up your eyes and much more.
At least just enough to help him gain some sense of self and awareness that he was safe and sound from all harm.
Like Jaime, Jason would watch over you like a hawk as Red Hood without a shadow of a doubt, and Jason has his reasons to do so as he knows the type of people who litter the streets of Gotham at night like the back of his hand. He doesn’t want to subject you to that sort of life of constant fear of having to look over your shoulder in hopes that there wasn’t someone following you home.
For in his minds eye, he’s your sole protector and the one thing that stands between the scumbags of the street and you. Jason doesn’t take this position he’s given himself lightly, it’s unlike him to anyway, as your safety is his top priority and he’d do anything to obtain it; whether they way it’s obtained was morally questionable or not, he doesn’t care for as long as your safe, he’ll live to learn with having permanent blood on his hands.
Damian: 5/10 on a good day. 2/10 in general.
He’s not an overly clingy person. Protective? yes. Clingy? No. It’s just not in just nature and he can be very awkward going about it too.
Damian knows he doesn’t have to constantly survey you 24/7, he has more faith in you and your abilities then most. He knows that you won’t call upon him if at all when faced with a situation that you could easily resolve yourself.
However if you were to get hurt on his watch or otherwise, that’s when he gets slightly clingy and will attempt to be within any space with you possible. Damian shows care in a completely different way than most and will more or less act like a guard dog when it came to you.
This little dude will point his sword at anyone that comes into close contact with you while glaring at them, meanwhile you’re having to push the blade of his sword down and away from the poor victim, only for Damian to raise his sword back towards their throat once more.
‘Pack it in.’ You’d hiss.
‘No. You’re practically useless when hurt, so let me deal with this one.’ Damian said.
You purposely ignored the fact that he had just called you useless and instead pushed the blade of his sword down until it was pointing at the floor again. ‘He’s not even a threat, just a regular citizen. So you can stop it with the fear attics now.’ You told him in a hushed tone. Damian meets your eyes with a glare of his own. ‘How you can be certain he’s a harmless civilian? What if he’s a low life thug of an underground drug syndicate on the rise? You can’t allow yourself to trust every face you meet.’ He replies, not one to back down for anyone, not even you.
You sigh as you rubbed the sides of your head. ‘Well at least try not to cause more issue for your dad. I swear between you, Jason, Tim and Dick I don’t know who gives him the most grey hairs.’
Jaime: runner up for Dick’s crown with also a 8.5/10
He’s clingy in a sense that he fears of loosing you constantly.
Khaji-Da doesn’t make the situation any better as it only encourages Jaime’s Innate clinginess tenfold, and now Jaime can’t go a couple of minutes without offering to join you on wherever your going.
He just cares about you very deeply and wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he’d ever lost you despite having the ability to stop any harm from coming your way. So needless to say that you spend most of your time with him and his family is a severe understatement.
It’s not as though he doesn’t trust you, he wholeheartedly does, but that trust doesn’t extend to potential outside threats. Hell, he would even go as far as to watch over you as Blue Beatle, much to the behest of literally everyone that isn’t Khaji-Da because the scarab is just as clingy over you in a sense that you were Jaime’s mate and there for should be within close proximity to him at all times.
It’s endearing but I think it’s about time you told Kahji-Da to cool it on the whole threatening people you talked to with plans to eliminate them…
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iamnotoriginalphil · 3 days
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Roommates? (Melissa Schemmenti x f!Reader)
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Synopsis: You move into Mel's spare room
Words: 3.6k
Warnings: praise kink if you squint, swearing, mentions of alcohol
AN: Written after 3x07.
You groaned as you dropped into your seat in the break room, not hungry for the lunch you’d packed for yourself. Burying your head in your hands, you did your best to try not to think about the email you’d just received. It was hard when your stress was becoming all encompassing after weeks of it.
“What going on with you?”
You groaned again, even when you felt the brush of an arm against yours. The floral scent you’d grown accustomed to over the last few years wafted towards you. Melissa. Your closest friend at the school, and the person you’d been pining after for so long you’d lost any self respect you might have had.
“That place I was going to move into fell through,” you said, “I feel like I’ve seen every spare room in this city and there is no where to live.”
You peeked at her from between your fingers, hating to sound so whiny but knowing that your stress levels had reached breaking point. She was looking at you with a raised eyebrow and an incredulous look. You sighed, sitting up properly under her watchful gaze.
“You know Jacob’s looking for a place too,” Gregory said from the other table.
“I know,” you groaned, “he suggested we look for a place together and I can’t commit to living and working with that man. He once tried to rap at me about the Martin Luther King Jr and I can’t have that in my home.”
“I get that,” Gregory replied, “why are you even looking for a new place to live? Your place is nice.”
“My roommate keeps watching me when I sleep. Sometimes I wake up and she’s standing at the end of my bed just staring at me. It freaks me out.”
“Well hey, I’m thinking of renting out my spare room. Would you be interested, hon?”
You hadn’t expected Melissa to say that.
“Really?”
She gave you one of those small smiles that you’d never seen her give another person. Your heart fluttered and you found your cheeks heating up.
“Really,” she said, “you can pay rent, right?”
“Yeah, of course,” you replied.
“You can move in this weekend,” she said.
Come Saturday, your things were in boxes and bags, and you had a spring in your step. You were humming to yourself as you packed up your car, your entire life filling the seats and the trunk. You took one last look at the building, sighed, then got in your car and drove to the next chapter of your life.
It wasn’t until you were standing in front of the door that the reality of what you were about to do crashed into you. Living with Melissa. Being in her space all the time. Existing in close proximity. She was going to see you first thing in the morning. You were going to see her late at night.
Your crush was going to either get so much worse or dissipate when you saw all of her annoying habits.
The door opened before you could knock, revealing the red head who starred in so many of your dreams. You blinked, rearing back, not having expected her to suddenly appear. Her lips quirked up, hand snapping out to grasp you around the elbow before you could fall backwards.
“Were you planning on knocking or do you wanna live on my front step?” she asked.
“ I was… just about to… can you help with my boxes?” you asked instead, switching tracks without having to explain yourself.
“Sure, hon,” she chuckled, slipping past you.
Watching her lift your heavy boxes set off something primal in you. You followed behind her, your own arms full of your stuff. She led you up the stairs and into her spare bedroom, placing the boxes down on the made up bed.
“Well, here you are. Bed, dresser, the bathroom is down the hall. You can have a a shelf in the fridge. Your key is just there. Let me know if you need anything else,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“Do you need help with the rest of your stuff?” she asked.
“Only if you want to. I can do it myself. It’s no bother.” You had no idea why you were saying no. You felt flustered. You always felt a bit flustered around her.
“Come on, hon,” she said, giving you an indulgent smile, “the sooner we start the sooner we’ll be done.”
She left you alone after pttling the last of the boxes into your room, leaving you to unpack and settle in. Sorting your clothes into colours helped to ease your thoughts, the mindless work turning your head empty. It calmed you, getting your life in order so you could get your thoughts in order.
It wasn’t going to be so bad living with Melissa. She was being nice to you which was more than Jacob or Janine had been able to say after their cooking lesson with her. Accommodating was the word. She was almost going out of her way to be nice.
And most importantly you could keep your crush to yourself without ruining it all.
That night, she made dinner, offering you some and then curled up on the couch with a glass of wine. You were hesitant about joining her, hovering until she rolled her eyes and tugged you to sit beside her.
But it was easy to fall into a routine with her. Surprisingly easy. So easy that you didn’t even notice until a few weeks in.
Sitting at the table on a Wednesday night, doing the puzzle you’d started over the weekend, you listened to her hum in the kitchen. Something was bubbling on the stove top, the smell mouth watering. You looked up as fingers pushed a piece towards you.
“Thanks,” you said, looking up at her.
She was already smiling at you and you couldn’t help but smile back. It was an instinctual response. You couldn’t help it when it came to Mel.
“You hungry?” she asked.
“Always,” you replied, knowing it was the answer she wanted.
“C’mon then, hon, make some room. Can’t have you starving before you finish that patch of sky,” she said.
“You’re teasing but I saw you get excited when you finished the boat,” you said, clearing your pieces away from one end of the table.
Sitting across from her, the lights soft and warm, there was always something a little romantic to the feeling. Of course, you were sure it was all in your head but you couldn’t help but enjoy it, just a little, more than you should. She would look at you, those twinkling green eyes making you flush, and her smile had butterflies erupting in your stomach.
Still, every night felt like domestic bliss. Coming home with her, in the bubble of her house, the quiet night pressing in on the window, it was the kind of life you hadn’t known you’d been missing.
“You’re a goddess in the kitchen,” you said.
She’d waited for you to try her food, just as she always did before beginning to eat her own meal. Her foot brushed against yours under the table, making you jump. She chuckled, doing it again and you felt your cheeks heat and your heart stumble over itself.
Some days it almost felt like she was flirting with you.
“You’re sweet, hon,” she said.
You found your foot brushing against hers again, emboldened by her bashful response. Those green eyes flicked up to you, something twinkling in their depths. You weren’t sure how you looked but you were worried you’d shown your hand to her.
Dropping your foot back to the floor, you averted your gaze down to the plate of pasta she’d laid down in front of you. Her foot nudged yours before resting against it, length to length, the warmth of her skin seeping into yours.
She kept silent the rest of the meal, following your lead. You weren’t sure you could say anything, not with her foot against yours. Certainly not if she was watching you.
You remained silent as you cleared the table once she was done. Standing shoulder to shoulder at the sink, you did the washing up together, working in companionable tandem. You were so in tune with one another after living together for those few weeks, working together came without flaws.
“Are you gonna be watching our show tonight?” she asked into the silence.
You didn’t say no.
Sitting beside her on the sofa had always been trouble for you. Shoulder to shoulder, lit by nothing but the flickering screen, sharing a bowl of popcorn until your hands brushed together, it had always been a specific type of torture for you. The air always felt electric to you, and you knew it didn’t for her.
Except this night her head fell to your shoulder and her body curled towards yours. You froze until she admonished you, doing your best to relax your muscles. And there you stayed until she went to bed, feeling as if you had entered some kind of parallel universe.
Thursday night you’d put the entire odd experience behind you. She hadn’t mentioned it over breakfast or on the car ride over to school. On the ride back home she’d sung along to the radio, keeping her hands and feet to herself. You’d thought it was done. You thought you wouldn’t be tortured anymore.
But after you’d changed out of your school clothes and into something more comfortable, a knock sounded on your door. Opening the door, you found her in the hall, wet hair clinging to the skin of her neck, a towel wrapped around her body. You stumbled back a step, blinking at the vision before you.
“Um…” was all you managed to say.
“Have you seen my Eagles hoodie?” she asked.
“No,” you replied faintly, doing your best to not let your eyes wander further south than her chin.
“You sure? Because I can’t find it,” she said.
“Did you check in the washing?” you asked, hoping that would send her away.
“I thought you mighta borrowed it,” she said, lips tipping up into a small smirk, “you always seem to like it when I wear it. Can’t keep your hands off me.”
You felt your cheeks heat even further, deeper, almost uncomfortably. You looked down at your feet, terrified to be caught staring at her. You didn’t need to come across as a creep to her, ruining your friendship completely and irrevocably.
“I’m just teasing, hon,” she said, shoving your shoulder, “it’s probably in the wash.”
You were left staring at her retreating back as she left you be with your swirling thoughts and thundering heart, breathless from the image of all that skin on display. You were slow to close your door, leaning back against it as you breathed out a long sigh. Pressing a hand to your chest, you could feel the beating of your heart against your skin, practically bursting from your body.
The after image of her in the towel stayed in your mind until you could bring yourself to venture downstairs.
She was standing at the hob, stirring something on the stove, dressed in the familiar grey hoodie she’d been looking for. You blinked then stepped further in. She turned, smiling at you over her shoulder.
“Wanna help me out here?” she asked, seeming not bothered by the interaction upstairs.
“Sure,” you said, wanting to move past it too. Clearly, it hadn’t effected her the way it had effected you.
“Can you keep stirring this for me? I gotta start on the chopping,” she said.
“Sure,” you said again.
Your fingers brushed over hers as you took the wooden spoon from her. She paused a moment, eyes roving over your face. You held your breath, frozen, waiting, wondering what she was thinking.
“Keep stirring, hon,” she whispered, hand guiding yours, the skin of her palm warm against yours.
Slipping away, you kept your eyes on the pot, not wanting her to see the way you were beginning to come undone. One day you could brush off as weird, two made you wonder what was going on.
A warm hand landed on your hip, practically burning through the fabric of your leggings. A soft chin rested on your shoulder, looking over you as you continued stirring. You didn’t know what to do but keep stirring. If you focused on the warmth and the soft body brushing against your back you might melt into a puddle of goo.
“Good job, hon,” she murmured, lips brushing your earlobe.
A small squeak came from your parted lips and her throaty chuckle only made you feel as if you were crumbling in her arms. Those hands on your hips gently pushed you out of the way, fingers plucking the spoon from your hand.
“Go on, go finish that patch of sky. I can finish up here,” she said, sounding as if she had no idea the turmoil she was causing you.
You simply nodded and wandered back to the dining table. You sat, staring at the pieces, trying to reel your thoughts back in. A finger absently ran along the sides of the puzzle, feeling the gaps for the missing pieces. It wasn’t that Melissa wasn’t tactile, sometimes she could be, but this whole thing was something more. A step further.
A little closer to the kind of relationship you wanted with her.
That night she curled up against you again, cheek resting on your shoulder in the flickering light of the tv, hand resting on the thigh hers was resting against. You spent the entire time holding your breath until she slipped away to her room.
Friday left you on tenterhooks. Once again she was normal right up until your return home after a day at school. You were considering retreating into your room and not emerging for the rest of the night. It felt as if she was playing a game with you and you hadn’t been informed of the rules.
And yet you kind of revelled in the attention, if only because it might be your only chance to pretend she wanted you the way you wanted her.
You weren’t given the chance to make the choice for yourself.
A knock on the sounded on your bedroom door once again. You flung on a shirt, covering up as best you could while in the middle of changing out of your work clothes. Pulling open the door, you looked down, finding yourself in one of the lacy camisoles you’d been trying on last weekend when going out with friends for a drink. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, trying to contain the groan you wanted to release. When you opened your eyes it was to find a smirk and sparkling green eyes turned in your direction.
“I was coming to offer you a glass of wine but it looks like you might be going out,” she said.
Her eyes swept down your body and if you were a betting person, you thought her gaze might have lingered on the cleavage on display. You found your back arching, just a moment, until her eyes swept back to yours and her smirk only deepened.
“Come on down, hon. You ain’t going anywhere in those sweat pants,” she said.
“I’ll take that wine,” you said, needing to drown your embarrassment in something.
You trailed behind her down the stairs into the kitchen. It truly was the heart of the home in Melissa’s house. You hoisted yourself onto a bench as she poured the wine. As she’d pointed out, there was no chance you were about to head out in the sweats you were wearing, even if the lacy cami on the top was more dressed up than was normal for slouching around the house on a Friday night.
When she turned back around, her eyes seemed to light up. She sauntered towards you, both hands holding glasses of red wine. Offering you one, she drew closer. You took a deep drink, needing it more and more as she took another step closer to you. Her thumb came up, running along your lower lip, wiping away a drop of wine before she sucked it into her mouth, maintaining eye contact with you.
“Mel.” You felt as if you’d woken up into a dream, breathless and unsure of what you could do.
“Yes, hon?” Her voice had turned so husky you weren’t sure you were existing in real life anymore.
When you didn’t reply she took one last step forward, right between your thighs. One hand ran up your leg making fire lick through your veins and your cheeks heat under her gaze. Her lips ticked up into a smirk again, seeming to enjoy the trouble you were having at forming a sentence.
“What are you doing?” you finally managed to get out in a whisper.
“Aren’t you enjoying it?” she asked.
“I don’t…” It came out strangled, “Mel, please.”
“I’m trying to seduce you, hon,” she said, “is it working?”
You nodded, not sure you were capable of forming words. Just the thought she was trying to seduce was enough to send you into a coma. You hadn’t thought she would ever look at you the way you looked at her.
“C’mon, hon. You can do better than that. Say it.”
“It’s working,” you whispered, not sure you could deny her anything in this moment.
“Good girl.”
She drew ever closer, breath ghosting over your lips. You froze, eyes fluttering shut, waiting to see what she was going to do. A brush of lips, a soft sigh, fingers clenching around your thigh. You barely had the chance to enjoy it before she was stepping back from you. The whimper that came from you was embarrassing but the look on her face when you opened your eyes was smug.
“Mel,” you said again, not sure there were any words other than her anymore.
“Do you know the hell you’ve put me through since moving in? You’re so fucking hot and I don’t think you even know it. You’re the exact woman my Nonna warned my cousin Vinny about,” she said, almost groaning.
“I haven’t been doing anything,” you said, addressing the only thing you could.
“Parading around in your tight leggings and these little tops and those fucking shorts in the morning. And when you’re thinking about something your tongue pokes out and then all I can think about is reaching over and kissing you. Also did you know you hum to yourself when you think no one’s around. Fuck, when I see you in the kitchen humming and dancing I just want to pin you to the closest surface and fuck you until you can’t do anything but say my name.”
You weren’t sure you had a good response.
“Yeah but you wear tight trousers pretty much every day at work,” was your only come back.
“But you weren’t looking at me in them and thinking what it would feel like to have my legs wrapped around you,” she replied as if it was the most natural answer in the world.
“I fucking was,” you snapped, at the end of your rope. She’d been playing with you long enough, “christ sake, Mel. I’ve been thinking about you since the first time we met. You’re literally the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen. I didn’t think you were interested.”
“Hon, I let you move into my house. What part of that says I’m not interested?” she demanded.
“I don’t know,” you said, sounding angrier than you expected, “you might have just been trying to be a good friend.”
“Then let me be very clear.” She took a step back between your legs again, “I am very interested in you.”
You legs tightened around her hips, holding her in place as you lent forward. Your lips ghosted over hers and you were surprised by the noise that came from her. It was whiny and needy and she was straining towards you. You chuckled, drawing back.
“If you plan on seducing me, I expect to be wined and dined,” you said, “no more fooling around until you put some effort in and prove I’m worth it.”
“You fucking brat,” she laughed, a hand curling around the back of your neck to pull you closer.
She kissed you deeply, tongue licking into your mouth, sending your thoughts spiralling away from you. Your knees tightened on her hips, your hands cupping her cheeks, indulging her for long enough to let her think she’d gotten her way. You nipped at her lower lip before drawing away.
“Wining and dining, Mel. I’m not some common whore,” you said, “I deserve romance.”
“There’s your wine,” she said, shoving the glass back into your hands, “I’ll make a start on dinner.”
You bit down on your lip, watching her slam down a knife on the cutting board, grumbling under her breath, trying to hold in a grin. The glare she gave you broke the flood gates as giggles tumbled from your lips.
“You keep on like this and I’ll stop seducing you,” she threatened.
“You stop and I’ll wear those shorts you like all weekend,” you retaliated.
You caught her arm, drawing her in for another kiss, just enough to remind her what was waiting. She softened, gently squeezing your leg before going back to cooking. You watched her, finding yourself falling more and more for her, the anticipation delicious, the woman beautiful.
And maybe moving into her home was the best thing to ever happen to you.
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valyrfia · 2 days
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The Sainz Effect on Media: What the Hell is Going On?
Last weekend, Carlos Sainz Jr. won the 2024 Australian GP, and subsequently, almost every single F1 media outlet has seemingly lost their minds. From the aramco power rankings giving him a perfect score (despite Max not getting one for a grand slam last weekend), to motorsport.com acting like a fan account, everyone is tripping over themselves to sing his praises.
F1 is a complex sport, it requires several different aspects to even get a car moving, even more to make it competitive, and even more to enable a championship fight. From driver line-up, to aero, from international politics, to tyre deg. There's no other sport like it. To truly be an expert in Formula 1, you have to have knowledge of how a track works, an understanding of combustion engines and aerodynamics, a grasp of interpersonal and sports psychologies, and a sense of international relations. This is why, even more so than any other sport, good journalism is vital to the sport's ecosystem. No one person can be expected to be an expert in all these areas, you need a team of people who are willing to pool their knowledge and resources before coming up with conclusions to disseminate to their audience.
But media also likes narrative, and media likes an underdog, that is undeniable. And you can create an excellent underdog narrative with Carlos. From losing his seat despite his teammate keeping his, to him having to get his appendix out in Jeddah, the circumstances are there to set up an underdog narrative. But the crux of the issue is this: anyone with any sort of F1 wheel knowledge understands why Charles was kept over Carlos (a better driver even in a car built away from his driving style, who is revered almost as a messiah figure amongst the traditional fans of the team), why Sir Lewis Hamilton is a much more desirable asset to a top team than Carlos (7x world champion, who brings in a massive draw for talent that will far outlast his stint with Ferrari). So what do you do with these characters who don't match the narrative that you want to push?
Simple. You discredit them.
Make no mistake, this is what we're seeing across every major F1 news outlet in the past week. A plain journalistic choice to choose narrative over integrity. There's all sorts of rumours whizzing around as to why that could be: from possible covert payouts from Sainz Sr, to possible misogyny towards Leclerc fans to pundits simply not being bothered to do their research. But the why of it, although important, doesn't matter nearly as much as the fact that however you look at it, these journalists are failing the sport they claim to love. What's even worse, is that it takes a simple glance at numbers to tell us that these media outlets are digging themselves a hole, and are going to have to backtrack or try and excuse their belief in this narrative in the coming months.
Let's take a common line that Sky Sports like to use as an example, "Carlos Sainz is driving for himself. How incredible would it be if Carlos could compete for the championship this year." Max Verstappen will likely win the championship this year, there are no ifs and buts about it. Red Bull are still developmentally leaps ahead of their rivals, and even if Ferrari were to catch them, Max is still at the wheel. And if Ferrari were to catch them, why would Ferrari prioritise Carlos over Charles? The only driver who has been proven to be able to beat Max in his current form at Red Bull on pure pace is Charles Leclerc, which he achieved in Las Vegas last year, and would've gone on to take the win at that same race if not for the safety car. The most likely championship fight this year is Max Verstappen vs. Charles Leclerc, and that's hinging on Ferrari matching Red Bull development. This outcome is blindingly obvious to anyone who knows how this sport works, and yet the current media angle seems to not be to explain how the sport works to the general public, but rather to double down on narratives that are certainly going to be proven incorrect in a manner of months, if not weeks.
Let's look at another common angle the media seem to like to take, "You have to ask, did Ferrari make a mistake swapping out Carlos Sainz for Lewis Hamilton?". Now, if you've been even near a TV showing F1 in the past ten years, it's pretty obvious this answer is of course not. Lewis Hamilton is likely the greatest driver of all time, his name in a lot of cases outshines the sport itself. No other driver on this grid even comes close to his level of acclaim. This reason alone is enough for Ferrari to sign him. Ferrari has not won a championship in close to two decades, the best and brightest engineers want to be working where they know the results are going to come from, and right now, as a stellar engineer, Red Bull or Mercedes or even McLaren would be a choice over Ferrari, which has the added hurdle of moving to Maranello (considering nearly all the other teams are located in the Midlands in the United Kingdom). Acclaim aside, Lewis Hamilton is still a very impressive driver. P3 in the championship last year to a Red Bull 1-2 is not something to be taken lightly, considering his teammate finished in P8 in the same car with only one more retirement. It does make pure racing sense to sign him over Carlos, who finished in P7, especially since Ferrari have an up and coming talent in Ollie Bearman, and what they need is someone with experience to fill that gap until Ollie can make it to Ferrari, and will likely happily step aside when that time comes at some point in the next five years.
However, has there been a single major F1 news outlet calmly and rationally explaining this thought process for those who may enjoy the sport but are not experts? No. Instead, what we get is Sainz sensationalism, and bias so explicit it tips right over into unprofessional. From The Race saying that a Sainz/Leclerc civil war is Leclerc fan hysteria, despite their own outlet running an article just months ago about tensions in Ferrari, to motorsport.com creating a CV for Carlos, and then proceeding to harass fans who ask why they are so keen to ignore facts. Every single F1 outlet seems to have lost their minds.
The sad thing is this will only backfire massively on Carlos himself. Charles will outperform Carlos, every metric from the past year indicates so. Ferrari may be in the running for the WCC by the midpoint of the season, but Carlos's win will fade into distant memory long before we reach Spa, and the average enjoyer will look back on all this crazy media hype and go "hm, well he didn't live up to expectations did he? He was massively overrated." And this too, will be the fault of F1 media.
In conclusion, F1 media sensationalism has failed Charles, Lewis, and Max, it will fail Carlos in the coming months, but most of all, it has failed the fans of the sport, by choosing to focus on far-fetched narratives, rather than deliver proper journalism and build equally compelling narratives out of the data on the table. It highlights a lack of skill and awareness, which threatens the entire ecosystem of the sport that we all know and love.
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vlrspace · 3 days
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there was never a time where the atmosphere was this thick with tension, gojo thinks, never with you at least.
his slender fingers dug tightly into the leather covered wheel, white brows meeting in the middle of his forehead as his cerulean eyes focus on the road ahead. how comical, of course it’s raining outside, accompanied with purple and white strikes appearing across the sky.
gojo gazes at you from the corner of his eyes, he’s desperately trying to ignore the churn of his heart at the sight of you. soft arms wrapped around your frame, fully embracing yourself and seeking comfort in a pair of arms that aren’t his. streaks of maskara coating the red apples of your cheeks, as you lean your head against the window.
he can’t decide what’s worse; the fact that you haven’t even spoke, let alone look at him ever since you two left or that he can’t find anyone else to blame, but himself.
truly, he hadn’t known about the invitation of his ex girlfriend by his parents. a vicious move on their end, just to taunt you with the thought that gojo could always do better than you.
his ex, who is a true golden girl, the definition of a perfect woman every parent desire their children to be with. however, she was far from the ideal partner, with her cunning and self absorbed nature. sure, she’s beautiful and comes from a wealthy family, like gojo, but she only ever cared about putting up a good show for the world. everything with her were non existent, unlike with you.
gojo is aware of how, unfortunately, his parents aren’t particularly fond of you and frankly, he doesn’t care.
the familiar silhouette of your home is visible in the distance and the white haired male tries to calm down his thoughts, to centralise them about making you stay with him. gojo thinks that it’s ridiculous how tied to you he really feels, how dependent he is on you and in such short time as well. six months were enough to make him obsessed with you, it’s utterly pathetic.
the buzzing of the engine comes to a stop and you get yourself ready to exit the car, but gojo locks the car before you even could reach the handle. the action makes you turn towards him, confused and nervous as you wait for him to talk.
“i’m so sorry” his sentence comes out shaky and breathless, his body wholly facing you, blue gaze never wavering away from yours. “i’m so fucking sorry” his shoulders are shaking, pools of tears leaking from the corner of his eyes.
with quiet sobs, he reaches for you, his hands carefully placing themselves on your waist, softly cradling you closer to him. the action makes your eyes widen, you’ve never seen gojo so vulnerable before. he threw his tie on the backseat the second you two entered the vehicle, along with his suit and his button up is halfway undone.
“you deserve so much better” his words are barely audible between the hiccups, his forehead gently pressing against yours as a hand comes up to wipe your tears away. “so much better than me”
gojo blames himself for the way his parents treated you at the dinner party, you realise, belittling you and throwing snarky remarks in front of everyone when his ex arrived. even though gojo stood up for you and got into an argument with his family, those words still hurt you.
“but i don’t ever want to let you go, you’re my everything. i didn’t know what home felt like till i met you, what love really was. i don’t have to pretend to be someone else when i’m with you and you make me feel whole” the desperation of his voice makes your heart break, you can feel his hold on you a little unsteady. “it’s you that i want, you make feel a better man and i love you so much it makes my heart hurt” he stutters out, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips, before pulling away from you.
“i don’t care what they think, i belong with you” your breath hitches in your throat as his words hit you with full force. not only that, but there is no hesitation in his voice and his face is full of seriousness.
“satoru..” you whisper out finally and reach for your seatbelt. swiftly unlocking it, you throw yourself at him, lips pressing against each other feverishly.
your hands curl around his neck, fingers disappearing in his white hair and you feel him wrap around your waist and move you into his lap. gojo’s tongue pushes into your mouth, salvaging every inch he touches. one of his hands cradles your cheek, thumb gently stroking your soft skin and you feel his other hand slowly moving you against him.
you’re the first one to pull away, just barely a few inches between you, gojo’s hips thrusting upwards to meet yours in the middle. both of your breaths are heavy and the atmosphere is now filled with a different type of tension. the sound of rain sounds distant, you can’t seem to care about the on going storm outside anymore. all you care about is gojo, the love of your life.
“i love you so much” your words are whispered against his lips as he leans up to capture yours in a kiss again.
if gojo wasn’t so occupied with you right now, he would laugh at his parents’ poor attempt to break you two apart. he knows his parent finally realised, how much you mean to him and the growing fear within them taken over.
satoru would do anything for you, even if it meant abandoning the great gojo empire just to be with you.
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@/vrlspace, 2024
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circeyoru · 3 days
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Unwanted Soul _ Part 9 = Requested
[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]
Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9 (here)
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The days when you worked for Lucifer were dull and boring, you saw nothing to gain even though you’re the one doing all the information searching and collecting. You went belong Lucifer’s expectation when you said you’ll infiltrate and plant yourself close to the source so that the information collected was reliable 
Lucifer told you directly that he expected for you to just listen and gather what rumors were around and tell him, or what information was available then you report to Lucifer in a neat pile. Never did he think you’ll go above and beyond, considering your mood and status of wanting to get yourself a second death
Well, you didn’t really mind it all. Back when you were writing your novel, you had a ton of characters, each with different backgrounds and personality. You tried just researching online to get the information, but there wasn’t that feeling when you were writing them. You needed to get the feel of it. So you actually tried out part-time jobs from all over the place to get it
Turns out it worked since even a copy of the novel got such fame and wealth…
Now, you realized you didn’t need to create something for you to know what you have. With your new power, you seem to have something akin to photographic memory to the point you’ll be able to keep what you see and know like a compute file system. Very convenient and steal-proof
Your main target happened to be Vox, the TV Demon and an Overlord that is acquainted and in alliance with another two Overlords Velvette and Valentino. Lucifer requires newer information of the modern Overlords, so you went to the V Tower to sneak within their ranks
That was before your charm abilities from your pages developed to what you have today, so Lucifer gave you an entirely new look and some common powers so you didn’t make an impression on Vox or the other two Overlords
It was through Vox that you learned of Alastor as well. While you never saw him, you heard plenty from Vox to know they weren’t overly fond of the other. Alastor seem to tolerate Vox and didn’t even see Vox as a treat since it was all so childish from on outlooker’s perspective
But what you learned from within was even worse. Vox was controlling, very controlling. He not only hypnotizes the customer and reporters to boost his fame and gain loyalty, he treats his employee the same and than some. His people were treated as slaves, dehumanized, and worse than animals. All for Vox’s entertainment
“Don’t.” You firmly declined, “Let’s just get on with it.”
“Wow, you’re really into all that redemption thing? Goody-two-shoes huh.” Vox smirked condescending, “Can I get your name or?”
You glared, feeling the shadows riled up by the second, you back up away from Vox. “No. This is strictly business. I hope we don’t see each other after this.”
“Hot and feisty. I like that in a demon. Let’s see how you’re at persuasion.” He turned to the lift and gestures for you to follow him. “Well, come on then, representative.”
Throughout the entire time Vox was bringing you to the ‘meeting room’, he had been so annoying with his small talk. There were a few times he tried hypnotizing you already but you acted like nothing happened, it was fun to see him try
You declined any drinks and food he offered, he set them on the coffee table between the two couches you two were sitting on. This setting was quite perfect for him to try a more direct hypnotizes, even if you were to accuse him of so, he can say it was a glitch in the system or it’s just his screen acting up
Everything was set to give himself the advantage he needs and wants
As expected the only thing he had against the hotel and Charlie was the fact that his merchandise were all destroyed without his knowledge. Though he even come clean as to why he would be aware of they were gone or not, he lied and said it was to ensure his services were top-notch and that he could send his employees to repair or replace them with new ones
Why he was doing this was to show his appreciation to the epic battle Charlie and the hotel put up. To defend all of Hell and the other sinners even when no one asked, to give everyone hope that there was good in this hellhole. It moved Vox’s metallic heart beyond words
Such flattery. You know information that Vox tried to watch the battle, you panicked when you wonder if Vox saw your powers when you defended and saved Alastor. It doesn’t seem like he knows by the annoyance and degree he went to ensure the hotel was under surveillance. He’s finding that one demon that interrupted his show. He’s looking for you
To compensate, the hotel is to either send someone to work for Vox, of course without a soul contract but a business deal only, or give them Angel. What it means was that Angel was to stay at the V Tower for as long as it take for him to individually produce all the cost of the materials used to make the devices Vox installed in the hotel
It was basically a contract that would ensure that Angel doesn’t get redeemed, stays under the Vees’ or rather Valentino’s hold, and continues to bring profit or even more to the three Overlords. You heard that Angel’s boss was Valentino, you also heard about the little stunt Angel did to his boss outside of the studio. Valentino sworn revenge. This was it
When you weren’t agreeing immediately, you were in for a shock when Valentino and Angel appeared through the doors. They took a seat in the couch between yours and Vox’s, Angel forcefully gapped between Vox and Valentino so that if anything happened, they’d have a hostage. Because unlike them, the hotel and its people are oh so very kind
“Angel here volunteers to work on top of our contract on this little mishap.” Valentino grinned, playing with his pipe as he released a puff of red smoke. “Angel came all on his own too.”
“Then why isn’t he speaking on his own?” You challenged, it’d take a blind person to ignore the nervousness and uneasiness Angel was displaying. From what you observed, Angel truly likes it at the hotel. He wouldn’t willingly leave it and everyone. “Why are you speaking in his place?”
Vox raised a hand, answering as if it was all rehearsed. “Val is Angel’s boss, so it only makes sense he speaks on Angel’s behalf on something so important.”
Your eyes narrowed, “You got it backwards. On matters as important as this, the one directly involved should be the one talking.” You glared at Valentino, “Not to be spoken on behalf by.”
Vox laughed, “You forget. You’re at our mercy now, we don’t need to care for your wants.” He got up and strolled over to you, “You know, you’re quite talented. We could use someone like you here. If you agree to take Angel’s place, then Angel can go free from this deal. I’m sure with your talent, you can make up that number in no time.”
“That wasn’t what you offered.” You hissed, you could feel Alastor growing rage as well. 
“Oh, need more incentive?” Vox smirked.
The moment he said that, the doors opened and revealed Velvette though it was what was dragged behind that caught you off guard. Husk, all beaten up and bantered, was being pulled into the room by some hellhounds that was in servitude to Velvette, or maybe the Vees. 
Velvette gave a cunning grin, “You called?”
This was obviously a bad situation. Two hostages and three Overlords, one of them were in the worse pairing possible as well. This was all a trap
There was a high possibility that Angel didn’t want to answer Valentino’s calls and was dragged to the V Tower where he’s be powerless. Husk most possibly saw what happened and tried to stop it since you were going to the same place later on
In the end, two were caught and used as leverage to convince you into servitude of Vox. Maybe you shouldn’t have came, but you didn’t want them to get hypnotized again and this was their domain so Vox holds more power here
You’ll admit, you’re cornered. Do you call for Alastor? But Alastor couldn’t care less about Angel or Husk went you were on the line. He’d even agree with the deal Vox offered just because you would be out of harm’s way. You just know Alastor will do that. While he cares for your decision, but when it was your time away from him on the line, he’ll do anything to keep you within his hold
In that case, you’re left with one option
“You want compensation for your broken devices, yeah, I can handle it. But I will not be working here.” You spoke firmly, “The hotel has a 16 floors, each floor has around 10 rooms, each room has a VoxTech TV and a pair of speakers that were installed, in total that’s 160 TVs and 320 speakers. The lobby has a large screen made of 6 TVs and 8 pairs of speakers to provide high quality sound transperance, the top floor has a cinema that is made with 10 TVs and 10 pairs of speakers aligning the walls.”
As you were listing, everyone was surprised with how well you knew everything. Especially Angel and Husk since you were rarely out of your room or around. How you knew all this was a mystery to them.
“So in total, you require the compensation of 176 TVs and 356 speakers. I can provide all of them back to you in the newest condition, but I will not be working here.” You concluded.
“Wow, crazy math, but how can we be sure you can give us high quality goods?” Vox questioned, “We can’t trust that you’ll leave us high and dry after we agree. You can even give us cheap knockouts like some copycat off the streets.”
You opened your hand, “Give me something, anything.”
The Vees all looked at each other, then Valentino passed a gun of his to you. They eyed you suspicously while you plainly inspected the object, Angel and Husk watched in confusion of what you were doing
You ignored all the stared. This was your last result. You’ll show them your power and ability with a page, they wouldn’t know how you did it and they wouldn’t be able to control you since you have Alastor’s protection and you could always put Lucifer on the table. They wouldn’t dare touch a servant of the King of Hell
Your fingers brushed through the curves and texture, feeling where the edges were and how they felt. Then you began taking it apart. Vox kept Valentino in place when you began, Vox keeping an extra close eye on what you were doing. You laid out the parts in front of you, then you inspected each part like how you did to the gun as a whole
When you were done, you reassembled it all. You quickly aimed a shot into the wall behind you so they wouldn’t say you attempted assassination to add compensation. You got the gist of what was used to make it and how it was made. You remember the parts and you remember how to assemble and take it apart. The conditions are set. You can do it
You moved away your oversized coat and took out your book, writing the words ‘Valentino’s gun’ on the page before tearing it out and blew on it. Then in your hand appeared the exact same. You gave to Valentino to inspect them
He was surprised his gun was replicated to perfection. He didn’t mean to say it since he was shocked and covered his mouth
That’s all you need to hear. You took Angel and Husk to your side, telling Vox, without giving him the room to deject your offer. You will reproduce those TVs and speakers, Vox just need to wait patiently and you can have it done within a few days. Someone will come delivery them. End of story
“It’s you! Hahahaha! So it’s you all along!” Vox laughed, falling back down into the couch, “You win this! So you’re not bad at persuasion too.” He grinned, “Now I really like you.” 
“Well, I still don’t like you.” You snarled. 
“Playing hard to get, huh.” He waved his hand, “Sure, I’ll wait and see. If it’s not delivered in time, I’ll expect you to work for me.”
As quickly as you came to the bright studio that blinds your eyes, you left with Angel and Husk hand in hand just in case they tried something. The moment you were out of the building, Alastor reappeared and hugged the living daylights out of you, you returned the hug, melting into his hold
It was such a scary experience, but you know you got through it because Alastor was watching and listening all that time to support you
Alastor sent Husk and Angel back through the shadows to retell the message of a smooth negotiation and nothing else. They were to have the cover story of meeting you and Alastor on the way back and to pass the message along while the two of you enjoyed a stroll for the hardwork. Needless to say they agreed easily to that plan
You walked with Alastor arm in arm, leaning against him for a more physical support. You closed your eyes to rest a bit since it was way too bright in the studio and you trust Alastor enough to lead you on the right and safe path
Being the radio host he is, he talked and talked about anything and everything he could to fill the silence and give you the perfect voice to listen to. At the sight of Alastor, a number of demons left the area and stayed clear of him
Everything was very peaceful, just you and him strolling down the streets. It reminded the two of you during those days when you both were in your home area. You’d sometimes want to just stretch your legs and walk around. Alastor would accompany you to keep you safe
In the beginning, it was just you and your music while Alastor was busy with whatever bloody methods to keep the demons’ eyes off of you. Then you and Alastor made small talk so Alastor’s attention wasn’t on destroying some poor demon that was minding their own business. Turns out, that was one of moments that got you to see another side of Alastor
You smiled as you hugged onto Alastor’s arm, you felt Alastor’s miniature jerk before he relaxed again. You really wanted to tickle him, but you’ll save it for when you two are back behind closed doors to have more fun
“You! You in the giant stupid coat! Stop!” A voice shouted behind you and Alastor. 
Alastor looked down to you, you nodded as you opened your eyes again. Alastor turned around, shielding you from the unknown demon’s sight. “What is it that you need from us?”
“I’m not talking to you, f**ker!” The demon exclaimed at Alastor, “Move aside or else.”
“Else?” Alastor’s head tilted to the side with his smile growing to a threatening grin, “Quite bold of you to assume you have a chance here.”
You peeked from behind Alastor, this demon was unfamiliar to you, not someone you messed with nor did you gather information on them for anything in discriminating. You wonder if you should let Alastor have at her since you already dealt with Vox today. But something bugged you with how desperate she was acting, very familiar. So you stepped out, “What is it?”
Her eyes seemingly light up and came over to you, gripping onto your shoulders tightly with that crazed look in her eyes. “You’re the one he wants. It was never me. Whatever he wants with you has nothing to do with me. It was all a lie. The contract, the flattery, the money, everything!”
“Huh?” You glanced over to Alastor with confusion, Alastor didn’t return the sentiment as he looked ready to rip the demon apart. “Uh, what do you mean?”
“I saw your powers over the pages, you’re the one he wants! I don’t know how we have similar powers, but yours is much more superior. Trade places with me, I’m begging! I can’t work for Vox!”
You backed up and slapped away her hands, retreating back to Alastor’s side. “Similar powers?”
You wondered if it was her, that friend of yours. You watched she continued to rant on about the benefits of working for Vox like she prepared to pitch it to a customer. This desperate plead was like her asking (demanding) that you continue writing that novel she stole so she can go publish it in her name
Do it in the name of friendship, she said. It started small, she asked for some tips to writing, it moved to asking for character reference sheets, then ideas on a sequel, last was your help to write the entire thing
She knew you have written it beforehand, she was aiming for that in the beginning. Again, she stole it while you were distracted with setting up a sleepover for her. You remember that empty look you had when you saw the barely closed front door, the pillow you were hugging fell from your grasp
The next week or so, the sequel to her (your) novel was out. Millions and billions of people flooded the bookshops, mass sell out signs for that book was taped to the display for the novel. She came back and praised you for a job well done, you hanged out with you and shared so much with you
All that time, you smiled and enjoyed the peace. Anything to help a friend, you innocently spoke. After all, she was there for you when you broke up with your boyfriend. She was your closest friend, things like these happen. See? She’s back at your side
She appeared on TV, she appeared on podcast, she appeared in interviews, she appeared in best selling author signing sessions, she appeared as a professor to teach young aspiring writers. She was everywhere. That was because the novel was everywhere, it was adatped into movies, TV shows, cartoon series, it has audiobooks and was references in a number of places
People loved your work. You were content with that. It was fine. As long as your friend is by your side. You can take it all. Yet you can’t help it when tears flow down your face in the dead of night. You hugged your pillow so tightly
It was all supposed to be yours, yet it wasn’t… You gave it all up to someone that’s not worthy of it
“See?” She threw a bunch of papers into the air from her side bag, with a snap of her fingers, the pages turned into paper daggers and flew around her at command. “If you can summon things, then you’re a such better fit! Please, come back with me to the V Tower and take my place.”
“Shut up.” You spoke, your hands unconsciously gripped onto Alastor’s wrist tightly that it could have snapped. Reacting to your obvious hatred, Alastor snapped his fingers and fires burn down the pages that she was so proud of. “Ha, I can’t believe you haven’t changed.”
She raised a brow, “What?”
You sighed, “Karolina, so you died, huh. Did you have a good life? Must be good as the famous author, right?”
Kat’s eyes widened, now it was her turn to back up, “No way… You can’t be serious…”
“Dearest, do you know her?” Alastor inquired with a cute head tilt, his ears moving along. 
“Yeah, I know her.” You smiled, you know what will happen after your words because you know Alastor, “Meet Karoline, my former best friend while I was alive, but most importantly… The one that stole my precious writing.”
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Note: Another one~ There's one more part to this and the involvement of Kat arc is done. I think I might end this series after that. The unanswered questions could be counted as trivia or extra mini moments. Cause I feel like this series is getting a bit too long. What do you guys think?
Circe Y. 
My Works: MASTERLIST
Taglist: (those that don't specify to being in all the works' taglist will automatically be assumed to be in whichever series they comment on)
@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala @nevermore-ramblings @justboredforreal @youroneandonlysimp @falsemain @scenteddelusion5 @anni1600 @readergirlstuff @salutations-demonsanddappers @mistpurpl3 @haruskrd @biadoll21 @speedycoffeedelight @wendds @paninibit @emperatris-rinaka @lucifers-silhouette @an-idyllic-novelist @cyannese-rose @type-ink
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DM Tip: Creating a Campaign Skeleton
Learning to be a better dungeonmaster was a protracted process. A younger me was often so stressed out by the desire to be a better artist that I'd have legitimately mauled a person if it would've revealed to me the wisdom I sought (with my hands or even an actual maul given the chance).
One of my biggest hurdles was the idea of a universal framework for d&d adventures, a guideline that would tell me if the things I was creating were on the right track. It was sorely needed, I loved the process of being creative but without an understanding of how my creative energy was best used I ended up sinking days, weeks, or even months worth of energy into projects that went nowhere. Worse yet, when I DID get a chance to put my ideas into practice at the table they'd frequently spiral out of control and crash, resulting in even more stress.
Over time I learned from these mistakes, I got better, and then I got good. I moved from conscious incompetence to competence, and I ended up having a run of absolutely stellar campaigns that were everything my younger self could have dreamed of: stable, enjoyable, meaningful, and most importantly an absolute delight to my players. Routinely I'd have people, including folks that'd only played with me a few times, mention that getting together to roll dice and listen to me babel on in silly voices was a highlight of their week.
It was as one of these campaigns began to wind down (three years! a satisfying conclusion on the horizon!) and I started looking for a followup scenario that I decided to study all my really successful campaigns and figure out what connected them. The end result was something I'd been looking for for nearly a decade, a reliable format that I could build campaigns around.
I want to preface this section with the understanding that while this information is laid out in a vaguely chronological fashion there's no guarantee that these ideas will occur to you in any particular order. Inspiration is a funny thing, and each idea flows into the others to make a cohesive whole. Due to foreshadowing and setup reasons you're also going to need a pretty solid idea about all of these when starting a campaign, though exact details will likely change/ can be vague up until the moment they're needed.
The Reason: Who are we and what are we doing?
Gives your players a solid background to build their characters around and give them a reason to travel together, rather than having to ad lib one on the spot. Likewise sets expectations of what the campaign is "about" that you can build on or subvert in time. The reason doesn't need to hold true for the entire game, just long enough to serve as a framing device. EG: The Witcher starts out as a "monster of the week" setup and then uses that framework to pivot into politics and prophecy once we've seen the premise play out.
The Pilot/Crashtest Adventure: What's first?
I’ve already written about these, but the general concept is to give your party a mostly contained first outing that doesn’t have any larger bearing on the plot so they can focus on learning how their characters play/building the party dynamic.  By the time the party's finished this first adventure they'll have already started putting down roots in the world: they'll have in jokes, npcs they've started to care about, an understanding of what's on the horizon, and an idea of where they want to go next.
The Central Gameplay Pillar: How does this all work?
It's important to have an idea what your campaign is going to be about in a mechanical sense in addition to its plot and themes. There is a difference between an adventure that has the party delve a dungeon, and a dungeoncrawling focused campaign. I like to lead with these outright during the campaign pitch so that players can know what they're getting into. Your playgroup will likely have strong opinions about what they like and dislike, even if they don't have the words to describe it, so you might need to explain the ideas for them.
The Hub: Where are we?
I think every good campaign has a hub, some kind of settlement that the party returns to between adventures to offload loot, pick up supplies, and sift through the latest gossip to look for the next questhook. Letting the party return to the same place lets them build up a relationship with it, clarifying the picture in their mind as new details are added and they grow more and more attached. It's possible to have multiple hubs over the course of a campaign, but I'd advise really only having one per arc to best concentrate your efforts. Fill up your hub with distractions and side adventures, shorter stories that the party can get tangled up in while the larger adventure slowly reveals itself. Returning to the same hub also means returning to a familiar and expanding cast of NPCs, which helps your party become more and more invested in the setting
The Main Event: What's going to happen?
Here we get to the meat of the issue, the big story you want to be telling using this campaign. To pull off the sick narrative kickflip you wish to perform, you're going to need to lay a lot of groundwork, seeding in details left and right as well as giving the party a chance to stumble across evidence of your schemes without ever realizing the whole thing. To do this, you're going to work in the building blocks of your big reveal/twist/pending disaster into the setting along with those side adventures from the hub. This will give your party an idea that something is going on, but with more pressing matters to take care of they're going to be distracted up until the moment you decide to pull the trigger.
The Setting: What's over there?
While things like genre and tone are definitely things you should have a handle on from the outset, I personally feel like the details of a setting are best constructed on an ad hoc basis, either in a direct response to something required by part of the narrative (be it side story or main event), or pencilled in at the margins as the party explores the world.. That said, creation of the hub and setting often go hand in hand because it's important to match the settlement to the environment and then shape the environment to the quests inside the settlement. As for what's beyond your hub, I happen to have just written something about building out settings.
Now, this next option is one that I recommend you start thinking about only once your campaign is fully underway, so it doesn't clog up your creative process by focusing on something that you might not even get to
The Change: What the fuck?
A little while after the main event has kicked off and your party is off on the quest that will turn them from mere adventurers into heroes, they start to hear rumours of strange happenings. It's certainly not related to the present scenario, it may even be an unexpected windfall, but it's not something they have time to look into. Time ticks on, the land is saved, and the party is able to enjoy their victory lap as well as some dearly needed time off. Before they can get comfortable however they're slammed by some strange occurrence that they could have never predicted that changes the state of the world. A neighbouring kingdom invades, an important ally is murdered and they're blamed for it, a dragon starts rampaging through the realm. Its important that this event is outside the party's skillset, not necessarily diametrically opposed, but counter to what they were planning
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wildestdreamsblog · 3 days
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Latibule Season 2: III
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)
Summary: In which he lost his latibule.
Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: As promised :) Leave a comment or reblog if you enjoy!
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Masterlist, Latibule 2.II
Taehyung looked up from his cellphone to his eldest hyung that was currently cooking their dinner. He pouted when he was not given the appropriate amount of attention he should be given. Honestly, he deserved it! After a moment when he still did not get what he wanted, he finally asked the question he had been dying to know the answer to.
“Hyung, is it always like that?”
“Hmm? Like what, Tae?” he asked while chopping diligently the vegetables the renowned doctor was preparing for a certain psychologist and his brothers that insisted they were hungry as well.
“When it ends…does it always hurt like that?”
Seokjin blinked at Taehyung’s unprompted question. He paused before he finally brought his eyes to the actor. He knew that the younger man had always been eccentric. His clinical condition definitely explained his behavior, but not this. He was never curious about the emotions he couldn’t feel, nor did he ever show any interest on understanding emotions. As the years passed by, Kim Taehyung got better at masking and pretending by learning the root causes of the emotions he could see. The brothers had always thought that this was precisely why he chose to be an actor. Everytime they watched him cried, laughed, or acted furious for his movies and dramas, they thought he was a different person.
Jin thought it was just understandable why he dropped the knife he was holding.
“What brought this on?”
“He-“ he lifted his mobile phone to show Jin the picture Jimin snapped of their Yoongi hyung looking like he had lost all his will to live. Taehyung found it so ridiculous that Jimin even made a collage of him and a cat that depicted their hyung. “-looks like breathing is a chore and is only fighting to live so he can end his enemies.”
Jin would have laughed had this happened before he met his sunshine. But now, the mere thought of her leaving set him on edge, and he knew he would be similar to Yoongi if not worse. Slowly, he picked up his knife as he carefully chose his words. He was always like this with Taehyung ever since he knew that something was not quite right in his mind, well…more than any of them, to be honest. The younger man took things at face value, and all the brothers knew to talk in a straightforward manner so there wouldn’t be any confusion on Taehyung’s part.
He kidded you not, once when they were still teenagers, they asked him to go ahead and get them a table in a restaurant. He left without any qualms only to return not an hour later carrying a big ass table from a restaurant. That was a horrifying memory, Jin thought, and that was when they all decided to change the way they talked. It was Namjoon that took it too far and enrolled the man in a body language class to better cope with society. However, it was Jungkook that forced him to take psychology classes with him for fun.
“I think it’s different,” Jin started, busying himself once again with cooking. “Yoongi never has love like that, I guess. It’s understandable that he acts like a sad lonely cat.”
Seokjin could still clearly remember how Yoongi looked at you. It was like you were all he ever wanted and more, like you were his reprieve from the darkness in his life. You were, as he called you, an angel to him. And then he lost you.
“Why?”
“Well…she’s his personal slice of heaven,” he answered, his voice contemplative and understanding of what Yoongi was going through. Jin paused in his chopping, a thoughtful expression crossing his features as he carefully considered his words. “And he’s been living in hell the very moment he was born. What do you think would happen if he was given a taste of heaven and then lost it?”
“Just like Hoseok hyung,” Taehyung nodded, slightly understanding the downfall of these strong men.
“Seriously, you are all worse than the ahjummas who love to talk about other people’s lives. Be better than that, guys,” Kim Namjoon observed with his deadpanned voice as soon as he walked in the kitchen. He took in the scene of the two men conversing and the other man quietly eating the snack Jin prepared him.
Jin scoffed as he rolled his eyes at Namjoon. “As if you wouldn’t react like that when your secretary finally resigns.”
To which, Namjoon only smirked. “Who says she can leave?”
“How will you stop her and her son if the father finally shows up?”
Namjoon, with his hand in his pocket, calmly uttered words that no normal people would believe to have any other meaning. “Well, as you said, the dead don’t exactly come back to life, do they?”
 Jin chuckled at Namjoon. Of course, he did something about that man. It was apparent, he thought. He could still vividly remember the look in Namjoon’s eyes when he told him that his secretary was pregnant and that the asshole of a father even put his hands on her. Suffice to say, it was the most unhinged Namjoon ever was.
“I think Namjoon will be the worst among us if he ever loses the love of his life,” Jin noted with lightness in his voice.
“Nah,” Jungkook finally lifted his head from his bowl. “I sincerely think it’ll be Taehyung.”
The conversation never left Jeon Jungkook’s mind. Anyway, he didn’t need anyone to tell him to do this. He did this out of the bond he shared with his brothers. Had this happened to any among them, he would have done the same.
He thought that it was cruel to let them experience the same hell he had been living every single day.
And so, he worked tirelessly and utilized every available technology and connection he had just to look for Yoongi’s angel. When he said she was alive, when he said he felt in his heart that you could have not gone where he couldn’t follow, then he’d believed him. He wouldn’t lose anything by looking for you, Jungkook rationalized. But he didn’t want to unnecessarily get his brother’s hopes up until he had evidence that you were indeed alive.
One morning, it finally happened. There you were.
Jungkook’s eyes could not have gone any bigger as he watched the CCTV of a far province in his office.
That was you, he was sure.
Without a moment's hesitation, he reached for his phone and dialed the person he knew he could trust. "Hyung, can you come to my office?" he requested urgently, the excitement and disbelief evident in his voice.
“That’s her,” Kim Namjoon validated after a moment. He was standing beside Jungkook’s seated form as he leaned in the monitor. He was ever the image of calmness with his hand in his pocket, his suit immaculate and not a crease in sight.
Seokjin raised his brows as he sat in a relaxed manner on the couch. Jungkook didn’t even call him, yet he was here because he was, per his words, bored and that a certain sunshine was not where she should be. “So the dead can indeed come back to life,” he noted with a tone the two men couldn’t understand. “Pray tell, Namjoon-ah. Should we tell Yoongi?”
Jungkook blinked at the rising tension between the two men. Whereas Jin merely looked curious, Namjoon looked like he was looking at the end of the sword with the way his jaw was clenched. He stood up straight and took a second to answer Seokjin.
“Of course, hyung. This is a great news, after all.”
“Hmm,” Seokjin smirked, his legs crossed as though nothing could have fazed him. It was moment like this when Jungkook could see the mafia prince in his usually playful hyung. Everybody knew not to cross this man despite him appearing goofy and motherlike to them.
Jungkook thought that it would only take one momentous catastrophe for him to return to his dark persona. He didn’t want to see that, though.
“He’s suffered enough, right?” Jin asked the room with a light tone, yet his eyes pierced through Namjoon’s. “Right, Namjoon-ah?”
Seven Mississippis passed before he answered. Jungkook knew because he counted, and he hated the tension he didn’t know why was present.
“Jungkook, tell Yoongi hyung,” Namjoon ordered.
—-
Min Yoongi’s brows were pulled together as he walked in a bustling street of a faraway province. He had to drive almost four hours just because their maknae told him to be here at this exact hour, claiming that he desperately needed him to be there. However, Jungkook was not answering his phone despite numerous calls from him.
Where was even that little shit, Yoongi asked himself as he surveyed the whole place.  
Despite barely getting any sleep, he found himself in a situation where he might have to scold his youngest brother for the first time. He should have been in Seoul right now, but he couldn’t exactly say no to him. He had shit ton of things to do and yet he was indulging the youngest brother.
Maybe this was exactly why he was spoiled? Ah, but anyway, he was a good kid.
So where was he?!
He walked further into the thick of the plaza, his phone plastered in his ear as he listened to the annoying and incessant ringback tone of Jungkook. Seriously, at this day and age? His eyes roamed the area of happy locals, at which he rolled his eyes.
He was on the verge of deciding whether he should just go ahead and kill Jungkook when he finally answered.
“Where the fuck are you?” he growled over the other line, his patience running thin when the man just answered innocently.
“At Seoul, hyung-“
“Then why am I here?! I swear to heavens, if you made me drive here just to buy you a weird snack then I’ll really kill you!”
“Seokjin hyung will be mad!”
Right. The eldest was protective of the youngest. What a nuisance, he thought. “Then I’ll do it in secret.”
Jungkook chuckled nervously. He couldn’t place whether he was joking or not. His money was that if his hyung could get away with it, he’d be floating in the river at this very moment. “I asked you to go there because I have a surprise for you, hyung.”
“I don’t particularly enjoy surprises-” he began, but was swiftly interrupted.
“I know, I know. But this one, I’m sure you’ll like. This is the most beautiful, most precious, most amazing surprise ever. You’ll stop sulking and looking like a sad cat and Jimin hyung will finally stop taking badly captured and cropped photos of you and make it into a collage. Taehyung hyung will stop observing your miserable demeanor for his next movie. You’ll finally stop living like it’s such a chore and-“
His back was bumped by a force. Turning around, he prepared to glare at the perpetrator only to stop because there it was.
There was you.
It was as if the universe finally said that he had enough and stopped punishing him because he saw you when he was not even looking for you. Your mouth hanged agape, your hand going to your forehead as you murmured apologies to him.
He was stunted. No, he was bewildered.
Was this real? Or was this one of his cruel dreams again, a figment of his mind playing tricks on him?
But no.
He had been living in hell, yet moment he heard your voice, all the sufferings disappeared. This was really you. You were truly alive. He was frozen as his wildest dream was brought into life. His whole body went into a state of shock, something that he never thought could ever happen.
It didn’t really matter the years he spent without you because one touch, one word- these were all it took for him to forget the bitterness your separation brought him.
With a trembling voice, Yoongi dared to call for you. “Ange-”
But before he could say another word, you interrupted, your voice light and apologetic.
“I’m really sorry, mister. I didn’t see you,” you chuckled, slightly lifting your walking stick to explain the small accident. You bowed down at the man before going your way.
And he stood there, watching as the love of his life walked away from him, unseeing. He thought he could no longer hurt. He thought that nothing could have fazed him any longer. But he was wrong. Watching you walked, unseeing as you traversed the plaza with only your walking stick pained him.
How did this happen to you?
Was it because of the incident?
Was that why you couldn’t return to him? Because you weren’t able to?
Or did he miss all the glaring signs?
Slowly, he lifted the old phone you gifted him years ago to his ear. “You didn’t stop looking for her?”
Jungkook was quiet for a moment. “Well…I would never wish this hell on anyone, much less my brother,” he stated, his voice carrying a certain tone of sadness they often heard from him. “Go get her, hyung.”
The bustling city streets faded into a blur around you as you walked, your steps slow and deliberate despite the cacophony of noise that surrounded you. Your sight may have been almost gone, but your other senses seemed to have sharpened in response, each sound and scent painting a vivid picture in his mind.
You remembered that when you were younger, you read a passage from a book entitled, ‘The Song of Achilles’. You thought it was a well-written book, a love that transcended even death. There was a line your college friends always thought to be a masterpiece. But you never understood it. The line so many people loved never really touched you.
Until it did.
Until you understood each word written in that book.
“I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”
Because right now, the words made sense. You could recognize him despite your deteriorating eyesight. You knew him. He was here. And he was following you…to what exactly? Was he here to end you? Was he here to make sure that you wouldn’t tell the world of his secret identity?
Regardless of the reason, you tried to remain calm as Hoseok always ordered you to. You had no choice but to lead him back home, otherwise you were sure that he would be suspicious. The man that you used to love was perceptive, and any suspicious movements could alert him. From the moment you opened the front door to the time you closed it, you knew you only had a couple of seconds.
You fished the phone Hoseok gave you, one with tactile buttons and controls that made it easier for you to use it. You knew you couldn’t use the speech-to-text feature, otherwise he’d hear. And so, with a tense movement, you sent a message to him.
He’s here. Don’t come home. Leave with my son.
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sweetmourninglambie · 9 hours
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☆ in the cold, cold night
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ghostface! e. williams x fem! reader
a/n: sorry this took actual months and is genuinely the worst thing i’ve ever written but it’s DONEEEE!
warnings: HEAVY CONTENT— READ TAGS! ghostface ellie, serial killer els, threats of murder, breaking and entering, rough treatment, cussing, use of switchblade, gun used for questionable acts, toxic relationship, dubious consent, slapping, grabbing, cutting of clothing, mentions of blood, switchblade briefly used on reader, gun fucking lol, oral (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), many threats of violence, and so much more so DNI IF YOU DONT WANT TO!
wc: 9.6k
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Even with the calm sound of the leaves rustling from the light breeze, you couldn’t help but continue to look back over your shoulder to ensure that no one was behind you. 
It was a nervous habit you had picked up after the murders began in your small town. You felt as if there was no amount of caution that would protect you from the psycho killer that was brutally ending innocent lives. 
The thoughts had flooded your mind so much that you had momentarily forgotten your girlfriend was right beside you, her fingers interlaced with your own as she carried out her usual routine of walking you home after classes were over. 
Your head was still turned back so that you could observe the people walking behind you, only being met with the sight of a students who you had seen around campus a few times. Ellie must have been trying to get your attention for a while, as she finally waved her hand in front of your face to snap you out of your trance. 
“Jesus fucking christ, I thought you were listening to me that whole time. Did you hear anything I said?” she questioned, a light chuckle leaving her lips despite her harsh words. Your eyes widened in the slightest when her voice finally reached you, flinching momentarily since you hadn’t expected the sudden sound. 
Ellie quickly snapped her head back in the direction you had previously been looking in, her brows furrowing to convey her confusion before looking back at you. “You’re acting like we have a stalker or something. Do you know something I don't?” she asked in her usual joking tone, your body relaxing in the slightest from how at ease Ellie seemed. 
“M’ sorry for not listening, I’m just a little scared— you know? All the people who have been killed are people we knew” you mumbled, lowering your gaze towards the orange leaves that were scattered all along the sidewalk. Ellie couldn’t stop the light scoff that passed her lips, almost seeming too relaxed despite the fact that you were absolutely right. 
“We didn’t know them that well” she added swiftly, a slight smile creeping onto her lips before she spoke once more. “Plus, it's not all bad. Classes are canceled till those dumbass cops can figure out what the fuck is going on. And considering the fact that they only know what costume the killer is wearing, we probably won’t have to worry about classes for the rest of the year” she blurted without the slightest bit of hesitation. 
It wasn’t unlike Ellie to be so sarcastic but you couldn't shake the nerves that were flooding your body, a small frown appearing on your lips despite her attempt to ease the tension. “S’ not like they’re gonna be missed anyways. Those jock assholes got what was coming to them. Shit, maybe we should be thanking ghostfa—” she began, although her words never managed to connect in your mind. 
You were far too distracted, as you had finally looked up at Ellie only to notice the slightest bit of blood seeping from a small gash that was covered by her hair. “Oh my god, what happened?” you questioned in a worried tone, your brows knitting together as you let go of her hand so you could try to observe her injury. With careful movements, you pushed her hair back only to find that the wound was far worse than you thought. 
There was a purplish hue surrounding it, dried blood having collected into the roots of her auburn hair. You couldn’t understand why you hadn’t noticed it earlier, only being brought out of your thoughts when Ellie pulled your hand away from her face ever so gently. “S’ nothing serious, baby. Just got into a little disagreement with someone yesterday” she muttered in a careless manner, trying to play it off as smoothly as possible. 
It wasn’t as if it was the most incomprehensible idea, as Ellie was known for her short temper and rather aggressive approach to resolving issues. However, that didn’t stop the small pout from appearing on your features, your eyes still lingering on the cut as you spoke. “You told me you were going to stop getting into fights” you huffed, not taking hold of her hand before you continued to walk in the direction of your home. 
Ellie was quick to follow after you, catching up to you before you could get too far from her. “I said I would try to stop getting into fights. There is a big difference” she retorted, wrapping her arm around your waist before using the back of her free hand to wipe off the smallest bit of blood that had dripped down her forehead. You only rolled your eyes at her words, grumbling a soft “whatever” in reply. 
The two of you had finally reached your home just as Ellie was about to make another excuse, and you were already pulling away from her so that you could make your way inside without her. Ellie wasn’t having any of that, pulling you back rather roughly so that you were facing her. “Can I come over later tonight, bun? I was thinkin’ maybe we could watch a scary movie together” she muttered, attempting to make you forget the fact that you were upset with her. 
It didn’t work all that well, as you shook your head quickly at the request. “Not tonight” you sighed, squirming in the slightest from how tightly she was holding you. Ellie didn’t seem pleased with your reply, her sweet demeanor dropping completely as a frown took the place of her previous smile. “Why not? Are you seeing someone else tonight?” she questioned in an accusing manner, her grip only tightening as you tried to get her to ease up. 
“No— I am not having anyone else over tonight” you scoffed, looking at her with an unamused expression. “I already told you that my parents are gone for the whole week and you know their rules” you began, only to be cut off by a low groan leaving Ellie’s lips. “No having your girlfriend over after dark” she mocked the rule your parents had made up the minute the two of you began dating, her voice making her irritation evident. 
You shot her a quick glare but nodded your head nonetheless, watching as Ellie tried to find the right words to convince you to just disobey your parents this one time. “How would they even know? Promise I won’t tell on you” she said with a cocky smile, as she had lied to your parents faces countless times after helping you sneak out at night to come over to her place.
 “I can’t take any chances after they caught you coming in through the window last week, Els. They still have me on house arrest for that” you whined in reply, not wanting to fight with Ellie about this any longer. 
Ellie’s reaction was anything but sweet, as she rolled her eyes and finally released the hold she had on you rather carelessly so that you stumbled in the slightest. “I don’t fucking get it— you’re in college and they treat you like you’re still just a kid” she grumbled, not at all pleased with the fact that you always insisted on following their rules. 
Your eyes narrowed at her words, a small sigh leaving your lips as you took in Ellie’s annoyed expression. You usually made an effort to not bicker with her over small things but she had been frustrating you more than usual as of late. 
With the way she was constantly ignoring your calls and clearly lying about what she had been doing these past few nights, you knew something was up. You were just as upset as she was and you should’ve bitten your tongue and shoved it down as you usually did, but you just couldn’t. 
“Not all of us can do whatever we want to, Ellie. Don’t try to give me shit just because you don’t have anyone back at home to give you rules to follow” you spat without thinking, your eyes widening the moment the words left your lips. 
It had been almost a year since Ellie’s only father figure, Joel, had been killed, the case never being solved which had left your girlfriend with a massive sense of resentment towards everyone and everything. She rarely opened up about it to you, but you already knew how much it ate away at her. 
It was a low blow but it was all you had in that moment. You just wanted to shut her up or maybe just piss her off enough that she finally explained her strange behavior. Despite your nervous expression, you stood your ground and offered her no apologies for your words. 
Ellie had momentarily gone silent— her lack of response putting you on edge as you awaited her reaction. People continued passing the two of you by as you stood in front of your home, the soft buzz of their conversation sounding far away due to the deafening silence Ellie had left you with. 
Her previous expression already showed her irritation, but once your words finally set in it changed rapidly. A little crease appeared between her brows, her breathing suddenly becoming uneven as she looked down at your unremorseful expression. 
It was a strange sight, as Ellie was always quick to find some hurtful reply to hit you with before you could even blink. She leaned back for a moment as if to take you in before moving in closer, her nails digging into her own palms as she clenched her fists at her sides. 
Your body was tingling with nerves, your eyes darting around every inch of Ellie’s infuriated expression. Her stare alone filled you with guilt and you tried to finally push some sort of apology out, but she was quick to cut you off. 
“You are such a fucking cunt” she spat, the disgust in her tone so prominent that you felt beyond humiliated. Over the course of your relationship with Ellie, you had grown accustomed to her outbursts. Whether it be calling you names or her picking a fight with you for absolutely no reason— she always found a way to piss you off. And yet this time it felt so different, as you had never dared to talk back to her before. 
Ellie backed up after she spoke, her piercing gaze tearing you apart so that you were left feeling embarrassed and exposed as you stood before her. “You always pull shit like this. Someone needs to teach you to stop running your fucking mouth” she said in a low tone, not even giving you a chance to reply before she started walking away from your home so that she could get back to her own. 
For a moment you acted on instinct, taking a small step to follow after her. You snapped out of it after you moved, only letting your eyes trail after her as she moved away. On any other occasion you would have pleaded for her forgiveness, but you were done with putting up with her constant shifts in mood. 
It felt as if you weren’t even in control of your body as you moved towards your home, unlocking the door with a blank expression on your face while your mind ran rampant over how Ellie had spoken to you. She had reacted differently than she usually would, as she had a tendency to raise her voice just to prove a point. And yet, she had kept an eerily calm demeanor as she spoke down to you. 
Some part of you wished she would have yelled or made some sort of empty threat, as her quiet reaction left you feeling nauseous. You knew dwelling on it wouldn’t make it any better, a soft huff leaving your lips as you dropped your bag on the side of the couch so that you could lay down. 
You turned on the television to have some background noise while you checked your phone, the news playing quietly as you fought with yourself on whether or not to text Ellie. Your thumb hovered over her contact, a frustrated groan leaving your lips before you shoved your phone between one of the couch cushions in an attempt to keep yourself from even thinking about speaking to her. 
Ellie was the one who had started all of this— not you. She was the one who had been disappearing for hours on end with pathetic excuses as to where she had been. You didn’t owe her anything, even if you had momentarily slipped up and said something hurtful. She had said absolutely vile things to you countless times and you never reacted the way she did. 
If she really wanted to fix whatever the fuck was happening between the two of you, she would just do it. You couldn’t make excuses for her anymore, as you had grown tired of her constant anger. 
You were a bit dazed as you stared at the screen in front of you, the low volume making it hard for you to understand what they were even saying. It was as if your mental exhaustion was manifesting into something physical, as your eyelids were heavy with the need for sleep. There was no way you could be bothered to close the curtains in your living room, your eyes fluttering closed as you continued to think about Ellie. 
Maybe this was for the best— the relationship you shared with her was anything but sweet. There was always something off about Ellie that you couldn’t quite discern and in all honesty, you were somewhat scared of her. You loved her a little too much and you had spent too long making excuses for her.
This whole argument had blown up in your face, and even as you drifted off you couldn’t help but think about how this was beginning to seem like a means to an end. 
-
Your heart was slamming against your chest as you were abruptly woken up by the loud ringing of your phone sounding throughout the dark living room. The only other noise within the space was the quiet hum of the tv, your eyes flickering towards the bright screen to try and focus on what was playing. 
With squinted eyes you read the breaking news title that read ‘GHOSTFACE STRIKES AGAIN!’ in crimson lettering, the vibrant red and blue police lights flashing on screen as they played a live feed of what was going on. 
The sight alone had you sitting up straight, your phone long forgotten as you scrambled to find the remote. You held down the volume button so that you could turn it up, leaning your body towards the TV as the newscasters described the situation at hand. It was hard to make out the words in your sleepy state, your fist coming up to rub the sleep from your eyes as you did your best to listen. 
You could only make out a few words—- a real life horror movie, another tragedy, gruesome, unlike anything we have seen before, and yet another college student has been lost. All of the words sounded strung together and they left you feeling uneasy, your eyes zeroing in on the screen so that you could get more details that would inevitably lead to you being paranoid all night. 
A shiver ran through your body from how cold the room was, your eyes finally flickering away from the screen so that you were looking at the window closest to where you were sitting. The thin curtains moved with the small breeze that was passing through, sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin. 
Why can’t you remember opening that window? 
Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing once more, the sudden disruption making you let out a soft gasp. After you realized what the sound was, you let out somewhat of a nervous laugh at how dramatic you were being over the whole situation. 
There had to be an explanation for the window— as you did have a tendency to be rather forgetful and the phone calls were more than likely just scams. 
Nonetheless, you shifted around so that you could shove your hand between the sofa cushions, finally managing to yank your phone out so that you could find out who was insisting you at such a late hour. You were given no satiation to your curiosity, as you were greeted with the sight of No Caller ID instead of an actual number. 
It still provided you with a sense of relief, although some part of you had been hoping that Ellie was the one who had been so insistent on you picking up her calls. You declined the call, as you had seen too many horror movies thanks to your girlfriend's love for slasher flicks— and you refused to end up like those girls who die within the first 15 minutes since they pick up some unknown phone call. 
You dropped your phone back down onto the couch, doing your best to continue to listen to the news report as you made your way towards the window. Your hands were just about to push the window closed but you were distracted by what sounded like footsteps coming from inside your house. The sound made you whip your head back, your breath picking up within a split second. 
Fear was tingling throughout your entire body, your fingertips suddenly feeling numb as they pressed lightly against the window. The sound had disappeared just as quickly as it had come and for a moment you were able to convince yourself that it had just been some sort of hallucination. You had already been a little paranoid after seeing the latest breaking news and it was halloween time— of course you were bound to scare yourself a bit. 
Just as the tension was leaving your body, the silence was broken by your phone ringing once more. You flinched in the slightest from how startled you were, a quiet curse leaving your lips as you discarded your previous task to grab your phone instead. 
It was another blocked number and you momentarily thought about declining it once more, but curiosity was beginning to get the best of you. Against your better judgment, you accepted the call and pressed your phone against your ear. 
“Hello?” you called out in a meek voice, the quiet sound of breathing on the other side of the line being the only greeting when you first spoke. “Who is this?” the voice questioned, sounding somewhat distorted but you assumed it was just your shitty phone service. “Well who are you trying to reach?” you asked in return, settling down onto the couch. 
A low chuckle sounded from your phone, the person who was speaking to you seeming surprised by your question. “If you tell me your name, I’ll tell you who I’m trying to talk to” the disembodied voice quipped— and for a moment you could have sworn the person's voice was familiar. A light scoff left your lips, far too tired to stay on the phone with a creep who has nothing better to do than bother you. 
“Sorry dude, I think you’ve got the wrong number. Take it easy” you muttered in reply, already pulling your phone away from your ear so that they had no time to respond. You set your phone on the coffee table so that you close the window, your hands slamming down the window harshly enough that the sound of it seemed to reverberate through the eerily silent house for far longer than it should’ve. 
Just as you picked up your phone so that you could head upstairs to get to your bedroom, your phone began to buzz. You were growing frustrated with the calls now, your eyes narrowing as the lack of caller ID made itself known once more. For whatever reason, you picked up the phone once more and you were greeted by what you could only assume was the same voice of the person who was speaking to you before. “Why don’t you want to talk to me?” the voice questioned, their tone sounding a bit mocking which only added to your frustration. “Not a big fan of talking to strangers on the phone” you shot back quickly, your eyes focusing on the stairway that was just a few feet away. 
“There's no way you want to be left alone though” they said calmly, not giving you any space to add another snarky remark before they continued. “I mean, you’re all alone in that big house on the corner. Now that just can’t be safe for a scared little thing like you” they breathed, the words coming out so nonchalant that if you hadn’t been paying attention, you would have missed what was right in front of you. 
Your eyes widened once her words finally set in, your head immediately turning back to look at the window you had closed moments ago. “What did you just say?” you asked in a meek voice, your lips parting in the slightest so you could breathe a bit easier as your heart pounded against your chest. “Do you really need me to repeat myself, princess?” they questioned and this time you knew you had heard this voice before. Their condescending tone was something you had heard countless times, yet who had been the person to speak to you in such a way was barely on the tip of your tongue. 
Within a second of the fear finally taking over every last bit of your body, your finger was roughly pressing against your phone screen to end the call. You dropped your phone back onto the couch as if it was some sort of cursed object, your body seeming to move without your permission as you started rushing to each window you were near to make sure they were locked. It took a moment for you to gain enough courage to peer in the direction of the front door, the lock perfectly in place much to your relief. 
There wasn’t any time to relax, as your phone continued to ring as you moved around your home. It was all too overwhelming, the sound of the television mixing with the sound of your ringtone to create a garbled mess that only added to your already agitated state. You could feel a headache taking form as you practically tiptoed back towards the living room to avoid making an unnecessary noise. 
You knew it was idiotic to pick up a call from someone who practically confessed to knowing where you lived but some part of you was convinced you could still beg them to leave you alone. With shaky movements, you answered the call and backed yourself into the corner of the room so that you wouldn’t have to worry about someone coming up from behind you. 
“It’s a little too late to be making sure the house is all locked up, don’t you think?” the voice began the moment you pressed your phone to your ear, your whole body shaking from the shiver that overtook you. They were in your fucking house— and they were watching you. Before you had picked up the call you had the slightest bit of hope that this person was playing some kind of sick joke, but there was no way they could’ve just guessed what you were doing so easily. “Jeez, you’re already watching my latest hit. You must be a big fan of my work, huh?” they added on, clearly referencing the horrific news story that you had previously been engrossed in. 
Your chest began to heave as they revealed that they were the one person you feared the most, your nerves twisting with your rising frustration to create an awful mix of emotions that tore at your insides. “Listen asshole, my girlfriend is coming over any minute and she will kick your ass!” you lied, practically shouting into the phone although your voice shook in the slightest despite your attempt to sound intimidating. It wasn’t as if the person in your home knew what plans you had for the night, right?
“Oh no, not your girlfriend! I'm so scared” the killer said in a sarcastic tone, seeming completely unphased by your threat. Your brows furrowed at their reply, as you were done being toyed with. You took one final look at your surroundings to ensure there was no ghostly figure that was about to jump out at you before you sprinted towards the kitchen, your gaze landing on the set of large kitchen knives that sat on top of the kitchen counter. 
The space was only lit up by the moon that was shining through the window but you didn’t want to slow down to turn on the lights, your hand reaching for the largest knife and extending it outwards rather clumsily as if it would protect you from the invisible force you were fighting against. “Fuck you” you spat into the phone, already pulling the phone away from your face so that you could call the cops and get the fuck out of the house but your actions were quickly halted. 
“If you hang up on me one more time, I swear to god I will gut you like a fucking fish” they seethed, the threat making your hand tremble in the slightest as you brought the phone to your ear once more. It was as if all those horror movies you watched with Ellie countless times had taught you nothing, as all you could do was stand completely still while every part of your brain screamed at you to run out of the house as fast as you possibly could. 
The moment of silence was filled by the sound of creaking that now sounded as if it was coming from somewhere near you, your breath hitching in your throat as your grip on the large knife tightened. You couldn’t keep up a strong facade any longer, hot tears rolling down your cheeks before you could make any attempt to conceal them. Soft sniffles were all you could offer, as you weren’t exactly sure that speaking first was the best idea after the last words they had spoken to you. 
“Look at you, following my directions nice n’ easy. Your girlfriend must’ve trained you to behave so well” the distorted voice cooed, almost managing to sound truly affectionate. You let out a pitiful cry at the menacing words, the fight between you and Ellie that had occurred earlier in the day filling your mind. If you had just let her come over, none of this would be happening. All you could see was the look of sheer anger that had overtaken Ellie’s features when you had spewed those hurtful words to her and you would give anything to be able to take it all back. Tonight could’ve been spent curled up at her side on the couch with some cheesy horror movie playing on tv but instead, you were living in one. 
You just wanted to hear Ellie’s voice at this moment, to have her tell you what to do to defend yourself. She was always telling you that you needed to be able to fend for yourself but you had never taken her seriously and now you were left with the overwhelming consequence of your actions. The thoughts had consumed you so much that you hadn’t even given a proper reply, although your silence didn’t seem to offend the person on the other side of the phone.
“What? Got nothin’ to say now, baby? I wanted to hear more about that girlfriend of yours but you can’t even speak properly” they muttered in a false tone of disappointment, a small sigh passing their lips before continuing on. “How about we play a little game? If you win, I’ll leave you alone— but if you get it wrong, m’ gonna have to kill you” they spoke in a relaxed tone, making your death sound as if it was going to be nothing more than a chore to them. 
“I don’t want to play any games with you— please, just leave me alone. I won’t tell anyone about this, I swear” you pleaded, hiccups interrupting your words as you continued to cry. You were desperate to stop the tears, as they were blurring your vision further which made it practically impossible to see anything around you as you stood in the dark kitchen. A light scoff sounded from the phone which caused you to jump in the slightest, every little thing now scaring you beyond belief. 
“Well if you really don’t want to play, I’ll just have to kill you. It takes the fun out of it for me but if that's how you want to do it—” the voice began to taunt you once more and you were quick to cut them off, shaking your head feverishly as if they could see you, and in all honesty they probably could see you. “No, I’ll play!” you practically shouted, praying that whatever game they chose would be somewhat fair. 
Your eyes were darting around the dark space around you as if someone would jump out at any moment, your heart beating so harshly against your chest that you were almost positive it would burst through in a few seconds if you didn’t calm down. “Alright, make sure to listen cause I really don’t like repeating myself. There's four closets in your house, so go ahead and guess which one I’m in” they demanded, their confession of being inside already making your blood run cold. 
It was completely unfair to make you think at a time like this, your mind so muddled that you were practically whining at their question. How the fuck were you supposed to know where they were? You knew there was no chance of you making it out alive if you didn’t at least try to guess where they were hiding. It was only a little while ago that you had heard creaking downstairs— or was it upstairs? A frustrated groan left your lips, your shaking hand lowering the knife as you tried to think back to the moment when you had heard it.  
“Upstairs! You’re upstairs in my bedroom closet, the room on the left” you blurted without thinking it through, your eyes widening as you realized you had just taken your life into your own hands. “Ah— so close! But still wrong” they shot back quickly and you were almost positive they were smiling as they spoke. 
You were full blown sobbing now, raising your arm so that the knife was facing away from you once more as you tried to figure out what to do. There was a chance that they were still in the other closet that was upstairs which meant you could hang up on them, call the police, and run like hell before they had the chance to catch up to you. Or they could already be downstairs and there was no time to call the police. You remained silent as the options ran through your mind, the killer never once interrupting your train of thought which you were rather grateful for. 
After what seemed like hours of contemplating every little detail, you took a deep breath in and checked your surroundings one last time. Darkness seemed to consume all that you could see and that only caused your adrenaline to rise further. Your movements were done so quickly that you hadn’t even registered what you were doing until you were ending the call, shoving your phone into your back pocket before you took off towards the front door as quickly as you possibly could. 
You weren’t even wearing any shoes but you couldn’t be bothered to care with your life on the line, the knife you were holding remained in front of you in a defensive manner as you moved through your home. The front door was in your line of sight and it was so close— you could practically feel the cool autumn air that was waiting for you just outside the door. You were so close to being free, your tears continuing to fall but from relief rather than fear. 
This fucked up night could finally be over and you wouldn’t stop running until your lungs gave out on you. All you could think of was Ellie as you reached for the doorknob, already imagining how worried she would be when you told her about everything that happened tonight. Your hand was mere inches from the door, your fingertips barely grazing the cool metal of the doorknob before your motions were disrupted by the sound of a door swinging open. 
The cloaked figure lunged at you the moment they came into view, the sight of the white mask filling you with utter terror as they dragged you away from the door. You were screaming as loud as possible, doing your best to alert your neighbors about what was going on. They were far stronger than you were despite the strength provided by your adrenaline, as they were able to grasp your wrist so that you were unable to make any attempts to swipe at them with the knife you were holding onto. Before you could realize what the killer was doing, they grabbed your phone from your back pocket and slammed it against the ground so that it was reduced to a shattered mess that you were left unable to use. 
You were squirming around relentlessly, trying to free yourself from the bruising grip they had on you. They had gotten you pinned up against the wall to the side of the front door, knocking the last bit of air out of your lungs from how forceful they were being. It had taken an incredible amount of energy for you to finally manage to free one of your wrists from the hold they had on it, although it was devoid of any weapon. 
Your hand raised towards the ghostly mask, half expecting ghostface to kill you right then and there for making an attempt to find out who they really were and yet they made no effort to stop your movements. You finally grasped the bottom of the mask, a pained squeak leaving your lips as their gloved hands dug into your soft flesh to keep you in place. In one swift motion, you managed to pull the mask off completely and you were greeted with a gut wrenching sight. 
“Surprise, baby!” Ellie said in an all too cheery tone, her voice sounding a bit breathy from having to fight to keep you still. Her usually gentle features were splattered with blood, the metallic scent filling your nose due to how close she was to your own face. Her last victim must have gotten her mask off just as she sealed their doom, as that could be the only explanation for how she had managed to become covered in their blood. She must have come straight from her last kill— the one you had just viewed on tv. 
It felt as if your world had just caved in or even exploded, you really couldn’t decide. Finding words after realizing your girlfriend was the one person you should’ve feared the most was a rather hard task, your lips parting countless times to speak and yet no words came out. Your tears had ceased to fall as you took in her slightly amused expression, your shaky hand dropping the mask onto the floor as your mind ran a mile a minute. Despite the overwhelming fear you felt, the sense of betrayal was far too much for you to keep down and it gave you just enough momentum to finally do something. 
“You fucking liar” you spat, thinking of all the times Ellie had insisted that she had simply had her phone on silent or had fallen asleep early when you didn’t hear from her for hours at a time. You had confided in her about the fear you felt about all the murders that were happening in town and she had soothed you each time, insisting that she would be there to protect you if anything were to go wrong. 
All the while, she was the one who had been causing you so many sleepless nights and she was the person who had taken so many innocent lives. A sick smile was beginning to take form on Ellie’s lips after you had spoken and you could already tell she was about to give you some sort of snarky reply. Her grip on you had relaxed ever so slightly since she believed you were too frightened to do anything and you knew this may be your only opportunity to get away from her. 
Just as she was parting her lips to speak to you, you mustered up all your strength to tug your wrist up enough so that your hand that was still gripping the knife could make contact with her skin. You couldn’t reach very far due to her quickly realizing what you were trying to do, a grunt leaving her lips as she attempted to keep you still but she was too late. With a quick movement, you were able to make a swipe at her arm that was still making an attempt to hold you, blood rushing to the surface of her skin within the blink of an eye. 
Ellie released you once the warm liquid began to drip down her arm, instinctively bringing a hand up to cover her wound before she could think about what she was doing. You didn’t wait to get her full reaction, sliding from where she had you pinned against the wall and running as if your life depended on it— and at this moment, it really did. Soft whimpers left your lips as you desperately tried to think of somewhere to hide before she caught up with you, your hand taking hold of the door leading into the garage the second she began calling out your name. 
You hid behind the door, the knife still held tightly in your right hand while you clasped your other over your own mouth. Keeping your breaths quiet seemed almost impossible but you couldn‘t risk having any slip ups. The door was left slightly ajar on purpose, as you needed to be able to see Ellie as she moved throughout the house so you could make sure she was out of the way before you tried to get back to the front door. 
Her cloaked figure was moving slowly, your name leaving her lips tauntingly as she suppressed the pained groans she so desperately wanted to let out. You had managed to cut her fairly deep and the blood soaking into her cheap halloween costume was direct proof of that. “Get out here you fucking coward” she seethed, her head whipping back towards your direction when you accidentally let out a sound of surprise at her loud voice booming throughout the home. 
Your eyes widened at the realization of your mistake, squeezing your eyes shut momentarily as if it would make Ellie disappear completely. “If you come out now, I promise to play nice” she lied in a sickeningly sweet tone, her eyes narrowing as she got closer towards the very door you were standing behind. Her footsteps were heavy as she made her way towards you, your eyes beginning to well with tears once more as she got closer. For a moment you couldn’t tell what she was doing, as she had stopped so she could take off the black cloak completely. Wearing only a black tank top and jeans, you could now see that her body was littered with bruises, the gash you had just given her smudging her arm a dark red from her cloak pressing against her skin. 
Ellie had been wearing her hoodies constantly these last few weeks but you hadn’t thought anything of it, as the chilly weather was enough to explain it away. But it explained why she had been keeping her clothes on the last few times she had managed to get you alone, always insisting that she just wanted to make you feel good. She would have you completely bare while she remained fully covered and you had never even given it a second thought. You wished that you would’ve paid more attention to all the signs pointing to her being the culprit, yet there was no way you could have ever guessed that she would even be capable of such heinous crimes. 
After taking in her injured form, you watched her hand move towards her back pocket so she could pull something out. You could see something else that was tucked in the back of her jeans but you didn’t have enough time to get a look at it, as the sound of her switchblade flicking open had you focusing your attention back on her hand that now wielded the weapon. You felt as if the breath in your lungs was being stolen from you, your body backing up slightly so you could press yourself against the wall in the hopes that she wouldn’t see you. 
Just as she was reaching for the doorknob, a noise cut through the silence that sounded like a dish clattering. You did your best to not make a single sound as she turned away from you, clearly believing that you were the one who had made the noise. For a second you believed fate was finally on your side, as one of the dishes in the sink must have slipped just enough to get her distracted. “I’ve got you now” she taunted, swiftly making her way towards the kitchen. 
A quiet breath of relief left your lips once she was out of sight, your hand moving away from your lips so that you could take in a few gulps of air before making any sudden moves. Now that you could no longer see her, you could only assume her position in the house, her footsteps sounding far enough for you to open the door a bit wider. Your eyes darted in the direction of the staircase that was just down the hall, your heart pounding in your ears as you tried to decide if it was actually even possible for you to get upstairs without alerting her. 
You would rather go for the front door but that had already proven to be the wrong move and she would already expect that from you. After a moment of contemplation, you drew in a deep breath that seemed to cause your whole body to shake before you carefully pulled open the door and bolted towards the stairs before you could overthink it. 
You could spot your room as you reached the bottoms of the stairs, your body momentarily relaxing as you continued to rush as quickly and quietly as possible. You were so close— so close to being able to get away from whatever nightmare this was. 
And yet, just as you reached the bottom of the steps, an uncaring hand tugged you back by your hair. The cry you let out was pitiful, your head spinning as you tumbled to the ground. You already knew what had happened but that didn’t lessen the blow of having to see Ellie right above you, using her knee to keep the rest of your body held down as she kept a tight hold on your wrists. 
“You really are a fucking idiot, you know that?” she seethes, her chest heaving just the same as yours is. Crying would be futile at a time like this so you look up at her with nothing but betrayal and resentment. “Fuck you” you seethe, although your words only make her smile brightly. “Aw no, baby. We already played that game, remember?” she asks teasingly. You hated her more each time she opened her mouth and you wanted nothing more than to smack that stupid fucking smile off her face. 
“W— why are you doing this?” you ask abruptly, your eyes scanning her features for even the slightest bit of regret and yet you came up empty. The question makes her scoff, as she couldn’t believe that was what you chose to ask at a time like this. “You’re so unoriginal” she huffs, although her grip on your wrist falters as she begins to speak. “You should know already” she continues on, her eyes remaining focused on your fearful expression. 
“No one took his death seriously— no one. So why does everyone suddenly care when a bunch of asshole kids from a college get killed off, huh?” she begins, and you already know she is referencing Joel’s abrupt death. “I figured I’d give those cops something to do since all they’ve done is sit on their asses… those fucking bastards” she says, so lost in her confession that she doesn’t even feel the way you easily slip your wrist from her grasp and before she takes notice, you use all the strength you could muster to smack her, not giving two shits as to why she felt she had the right to harm others. 
The hit makes her groan, her head turning from the force of it as her whole body weakens for a brief moment, just long enough for you to shove her off of you and make another run for your bedroom. You could hear Ellie screaming meaninglessly as you sprinted for your life towards your bedroom, the sound of her footsteps right behind you making it hard to breathe. 
There was no time to slam the door before she got a hold on you again and she was going to make sure you knew she wasn’t fucking around this time. You were about to scream just to call attention to the house in case any neighbors happened to hear but you were quickly cut off when you felt a cool metal press against the side of your head. 
She had a fucking gun— that was what you had seen tucked in her jeans earlier. 
You felt as if your lungs were giving out, soft pleas beginning to fall from your lips as your body trembled in her hold. “Not so tough now, huh?” she questions, guiding you towards your plush bed and shoving you down on it, watching as you look up at her with teary eyes as she keeps the gun pointed at your head. 
The sight of you being reduced to such a pathetic sight made something blossom in Ellie’s chest, a sick sense of pride. She tucked the weapon into the back of her jeans before slowly crawling into bed with you, her body straddling your own as she looks down at you curiously. You can’t speak even if you try, the words dying in your throat as you watch her pull out her switchblade instead. 
She seems to relax, although you are tensing with each passing second as she brings the sharpened blade closer to your skin. You shake your head repeatedly, trying to reason with her. “Please— please don’t kill me” you begin to beg, the words leaving your lips countless times before they finally invoke a response from her. “Oh, angel. I don’t want to kill you. Just wanted to have some fun with you but then you had to make a big fuss, didn’t you?” she asks, her voice so soothing that you could feel your rational mind slipping away. 
“You really hurt me, baby” she sighs, beginning to use her blade to slice through the fabric of your top effortlessly. You whimper, a bit too loud for her liking. “Shut the fuck up” she snaps, cutting into the band of your bra next, her rough hand messily tugging the ruined material to the side so she could get a perfect view of your tits. You felt all too exposed, your frown deepening as you looked up at her. 
“So, are you gonna apologize for being so disrespectful?” she questions as she pushes up the material of your skirt, her blade catching on your panties. “Sorry” you mutter, squirming since her blade was uncomfortably close to your skin. Ellie’s patience was wearing, a low huff leaving her lips as she cut into the fabric. “Stop fucking moving!” she says exasperatedly, the loud words causing your body to still at once. 
She sighs as she pulls the thin fabric away from your body, her eyes shamelessly focusing on your cunt, her hand carelessly shoving your thighs further apart. “Say it like you mean it” she demands, not at all impressed. Her words make you burn with shame, your mind racing as she brings her hand closer to your cunt that was beginning to become embarrassingly wet. 
Just as your words began, her blade dug into your lower tummy in the slightest, barely enough to draw blood. “I’m sorry, Ellie! I didn’t mean it, I swear” you plead in a rushed voice, trying to focus on not moving at all so her blade wouldn’t push deeper into the soft skin of your stomach. Your chest heaved against your will and you were almost positive that this was the end for you, 
Seeing you all teary eyed and frightened made Ellie dizzy with power and she finally pulled away the blade, tucking it into her pocket before giving you a little kiss on your lips, not at all caring that you didn’t even have time to react to the action. “Was that so hard, sweet girl? Can’t believe you made me hurt you” she says with a mocking pout. 
All you can do is try to control your breathing, no longer attempting to struggle under the weight of her body. You knew your life was in danger but Ellie’s presence made it impossible for you to have any sort of rationality. 
“C’mere” she mutters calmly, finally scooting back so that you could sit up. She could already tell she had gotten you right where she wanted you so she felt no concern about letting you sit up for the time being. She carelessly removed your torn clothes so that you were finally completely bare for her. 
She couldn’t help herself, as her hand naturally lowered to deliver a few rough slaps against your tits. You flinched, the pain spreading quickly and making you huff a bit. It was hard not to be ashamed when you were completely nude and she was still fully clothed. Not to mention the fact that you were willingly allowing a ruthless killer to see you like this. 
No words were spoken as she laid you back down, not paying you any mind as she lowered herself so she could settle between your legs. You knew better than to move at this point, so you settled for raising your head in the slightest bit so you could peek down at her. 
Ellie didn’t bother to meet your gaze, her rough hands moving against your soft skin as she made sure you would be unable to press your thighs together. “Els…” you began, unsure of what you were even going to say. You didn’t even have the option to finish your sentence, as in the blink of an eye you could feel her warm breath against your cunt. 
You flinched involuntarily as she pressed a messy kiss to your sensitive clit, her tongue flattening to lick a stripe against your slit afterwards. She only backed away to speak a few simple words. “Just keep your mouth shut” she muttered before returning to her previous movements. 
The way her tongue sloppily moved against you showed a desperation you had never seen before, although the grip she had on your hips was proof of the anger that still lingered. You clasped your hand over your mouth, your brows knitting as you focused on how she would take little breaks to focus on sucking on your puffy bud. 
Your shaky hips rocked against her mouth, her own moans filling the room as she took in your sweet taste. “You gonna let me open you up?” she asks ever so calmly, allowing her middle finger to press into your slick cunt so she could fuck you with it. 
You were growing dizzy with a combination of guilt and pleasure, tears of frustration forming as she fucked you open. “Does it feel good, baby?” she asks, raising her head so she could look at your pathetic expression. You look at her for a moment, unsure if you were actually allowed to speak. 
The sight of your unsure gaze made Ellie grin in the slightest, not giving any warning as she pushed a second finger into you. “S’ fine, I wanna hear you” she says, granting you the permission you had been seeking out. Your muscles relaxed as you were finally allowed to let out small moans, your tears now aimlessly streaming down your face. 
“Mhmm,  I can feel it so deep” you whisper, curses slipping out as you press your head back against your bed. Your small movements quickly became erratic, your body writhing as endless pleasure built. “Need to cum, please” you beg, as something tightening in your lower tummy told you that you were getting close. 
“Not yet, we haven’t even gotten to the fun part” she hums, not caring about the shocked expression that took over your features. She halted the thrusting of her fingers to pull them out, your arousal still sticky against her skin. 
You momentarily believed that she had no intentions of letting you get off and you simply couldn’t bear the thought after all you had been through tonight. You needed to feel release, sooner rather than later. 
“I’ll do anything” you say quickly, your words so rushed that they almost don’t make sense to Ellie. Her eye refocus on you as she takes a moment to decipher what you had said, a smile making itself known as she reaches for an item still tucked into the back of her jeans. 
“I know you will” she quips, finally revealing what she had been reaching for. Ellie loved how heavy the gun felt in her hand and it offered her a sense of control she had never felt previously. Your heart nearly leapt out of your throat, your muscles aching from how harshly you were tensing up. 
The way you feverishly shook your head made you momentarily nauseous and you uttered the only words you could think of. “Please— don’t hurt me, I love you” you say breathlessly, feeling hurt at the way Ellie was quick to mutter a mocking version of your words. 
“I’m not gonna hurt you unless you make me” she states nonchalantly, inching the gun closer to your cunt but not before taking the time to spit directly on your pussy to ensure you wouldn’t be in too much pain from the stretch. 
You feel powerless as she finally presses the cool steel against your slit, the sound of her low voice reverberating inside your mind. “Make sure to keep still. You don’t want me accidentally pulling the trigger now, do you?” she asks with a sick smile. 
The two of you already know your answer so you don’t bother with a verbal reply, instead you close your eyes tightly and brace yourself. 
The barrel of the handgun eases into your cunt and you are thankful that she had the decency to make sure you were slick enough to take the weapon. Although that’s not to say that there wasn’t any pain, as low grunts were quick to leave your lips from how thick it was. 
“Keep taking it, just like that” she coos, now beginning to properly fuck you with it. You had fallen weak to your desires, as it dawned on you that you were truly nearing your orgasm due to the fact that you were being fucked with a gun. The thrusts were deep and fast, your moans becoming borderline screams as your pleasure continuously built. 
The barrel had grown warm from being within you and the way you were crying Ellie’s name let her know that you were on the brink of your climax. “Do it. Cum on my gun like the filthy girl you are” she mutters, rubbing your clit in time with the thrusts of the weapon. 
And you didn’t need to be told twice, as with one loud cry, you had reached your orgasm. Ellie felt pride swell within her chest as she saw the white ring of your slick that had formed at the end of the barrel. 
She eased the weapon out of your before using her tongue to shamelessly clean up the mess you had made on her weapon of choice. You were barely coherent, the exhaustion of all the fighting you had done catching up with you as well as the fact that your adrenaline was wearing off. 
You didn’t even notice as she stood above you, phone in hand as she took a flash photo of your worn down state. Once the light made you squint, you could hear her voice right next to your ear but you couldn’t even see her. 
“You tell anyone about what I did, I swear to god this picture will be plastered everywhere so everyone knows how much you love getting fucked by sickos. And if you ever talk back to me again, I’ll blow your brains out before you can even finish your sentence” she whispers. 
By the time you can see clearly again, she is gone, leaving you to clean up the mess she had made. But even with her gone, you swore you could still feel her eyes on you and you knew once and for all, there was no way she would ever let you get away from her. 
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stariikis · 3 days
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what's your ETA?
synopsis ; in a crowded train headed towards your friend's art showcase, you and your boyfriend are caught in an awkward position.
pairing ; non-idol!nishimura riki x fem!reader genre ; fluff, established rs, literal forced proximity wc ; 1180 warnings ; kissing (a lil bit in public), lots of teasing, and mentions of height difference..
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“I swear, if you make one more cup of coffee and insist you have to drink it before we go, I'll personally push you onto the train tracks.”
Nearly spitting out his beverage, Riki swallows abruptly and coughs. “Now, I would say I’m used to your violent tendencies, but that’s just gory. But I’d honestly like to see it.” His eyes shine with an unsettling excitement that has you blinking rapidly. 
“You won’t be alive to see it…” You tilt your head and feign confusion. In reality, this is both your way of flirty banter. Since Riki just loves to tease you, you believe it’s only fair that you should be allowed to tease back. However, your version of teasing is questionably rude at times, way worse than any fireball of quips Riki showers you with. 
“You wanna go or not?” Riki sighs, his mug making a clunking sound on the table when he puts it down. “I’m ready to just sit here and argue with you until night — I’m not the one desperate to see Sunoo’s art exhibition.” 
“No, I swear it’s not because I’m desperate to go. You’re the one who’s closer to him though?” You shake your head and frown in bewilderment. “Fake friend.” 
Riki whips around in his seat. “Pick me!”
”Bad boyfriend!” You erupt into laughter and lunge forward to ruffle his hair. 
Playing along, Riki gets up and pushes you gently away from him. But at the same time his fingers grab ahold of your wrist, holding you close, like he doesn’t really mean it. He’s casting the bait, eyes that look deeply and adoringly into yours glimmering with enthusiasm. 
“You’re taking it to heart. Don’t take it to heart,” he murmurs, and leans in to kiss you, voice dropping down to a low. “Pathological liar.” Before you have time to protest, he giggles, hugging you close as if daring you to spit out another one of your alleged, ‘lies’. 
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When you both reach the station, its difficult to see through the sardine-packed crowd of people in front of you. “It… is so crowded,” you tiptoe to be able to whisper in Riki’s ear – and even that’s not enough, he has to lean down with a huff of amusement for you to reach. “Why is it so crowded today?” 
Shrugging his shoulders loosely, Riki slips his hand into yours, squeezing it tight. “You’re the one who wanted to go to this art show.” He mutters quietly. “Kim Sunoo’s, no less. You know we can just ask him to conduct a private show for us?” 
“Is supporting your friends a concept nonexistent to you?” You snap, feigning irritation but responding by rubbing your thumb over his. Your boyfriend pretends to be hurt by this, staggering backwards as much as he can in the crowd. His free hand clutching his chest, the playful atmosphere set by your banter fades when he looks at you. Wearing a gentle smile, he leads you into the train when the doors and gates slide open. 
He manages to secure you both a spot along the wall near the right-hand-side doors. You can tell by the guilt in his eyes that he wants to find you a seat too, but you’re probably going to get dirty looks from the elderlies if you do so. Luckily, he saves you the social torture and doesn’t force you to take a seat. 
The first few stops the train makes are still bearable. Riki is squashed a little too close for comfort at times, caging you in against the wall while you just stare ahead as if nothing’s happening. You ignore the tingles the situations send, all the way from your neurons down to your toes. However, when the crowd dissolves as they alight at their respective stations, you can breathe a sigh of relief. 
Like usual, Riki makes a snide remark about your morning breath (even though you’re quite certain your dental routine is competent), and returns to scroll on his phone. What disheartens you, though, is how genuinely uninterested he seems in Sunoo’s exhibit. And how bored he seems to be, despite being here with you. 
There’s a nonchalant faze across his face as he scrolls social media, leaning in close with a hand adjusting its grip on the grab bar next to you. You tilt your head, chest starting to ache. Does he really not care as much as you’d like to think he does? To not even feel an ounce of excitement in this moment? 
The train screeches to a halt as if agreeing with your intrusive thoughts. There’s still a long way to travel downtown to where the exhibit is held, and unfortunately for you, this is the most crowded station the train has stopped at by far. So many people pour into the carriage that it’s not even five seconds before Riki’s whole body is pressed up against yours. 
He drops the arm holding his phone down to his side. 
People are pushing you on both sides, and suddenly there’s a wave of gratefulness that you’re not stuck in the middle of the carriage. As if your current situation isn’t painful enough. Your boyfriend can’t meet your eyes, and it’s not surprising. With your noses mere inches apart (only because of the height difference), even you, usually assertive and confident, have to look into the distance. 
“Sorry…” Riki says in a hushed tone, moving his lips closer to your ear. His head has practically dropped down onto your shoulder, and you can feel yourself filled with vigorous tremors. He slips his phone into his back pocket, and the hand previously holding it snakes protectively around your waist. You blink up at him, expecting a warm look down, but all you’re met with is narrowed eyes carefully scanning the surroundings. 
His neck still dipped downwards, he hugs you close when the final few people slip into the train. Clearly feeling you shaking, he hums soothingly into your ear, “you’re safe”. “You have me.” “Don’t be too scared.” Anything else he says goes in one ear and goes out the other. 
Because. In such a situation, what would you expect your boyfriend to proceed to do? a), Accept fate and stay in position, b), shyly turn away from the deathly awkwardness, or c), giggle and tilt his head to pepper kisses along your neck? 
Riki chose C. 
He’s so gross, you think, but only when you’re stumbling out the train and running all the way to Sunoo’s exhibit to save yourself from remembering the situation more. Why did he ever do that? I should have shoved him away and called him a pervert and acted as if I didn’t know him. 
What a lie — when he was pressing a final kiss against your cheek your first thought wasn’t even remotely close to wanting to shove him away. Rather, you had pouted, arms wrapped around his neck, because he’s going to have to make up for being both indifferent towards you and making you so late. 
(It is never really his fault.)
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thank you for reading! i'm so sorry for the lack of uploads recently, life has just gotten a little bit busier and i finally got a lil break so i decided to write this prompt i thought of a while back!
more of my works >
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bigfatbimbo · 2 days
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saw u we're thinking about the vees again 😇 anyways heres some rambles
spitroasting vox w velvette- ur pegging him while she rides his face and yall can makeout in the middle (val may or may not be watching)
humiliating any of them in front of the others
not punishing them for once and maybe having a night of just gentle fucking? like your all taking care of eachother just like softer sex
THEY GIVE WONDERFUL AFTERCARE FIGHT ME
this one is pretty sfw but imagine going to like a fancy event/gala with the three of them and they're all fighting for your attention/over who ur plus one is
The Vees with a dom!reader headcanons [pt3]
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a/n — On my Vees shit again, because i’m fucking crazy. Also I swear i’m working on actual fics like I swear on my life they won’t be messy headcanons for ever.
summary — further continuation of the post where the reader was basically the Vees collective fuck, specifically with a dominant reader.
warning — smut, unorganized headcanons, dom reader, sub… everyone else, NOT PROOFREAD!! kind of long too
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Rose, You’ve literally never let me down when sending in requests. I love this and you. I’m going to actually try to make this one coherent and organized! So i’ll break everything you said down into categories.
Spitrosting w/Vox and Velvette
No because imagine this as a punishment for Val and Vox but a reward for Velvette. Like maybe she has been nicer than usual, well, in a general way (snarky comments aside). Say she was being thoughtful and made you a nice homemade shirt that suits your fashion sense perfectly. How sweet!
However, while the other two weren’t exactly worse than usual, they certainly weren’t better. Valentino was just as depraved and perverted as usual, and Vox was just as annoying with his facade dominance and quick temper.
Valentinos part of the punishment is obvious; he’s tied to the other side of the bed, both sets of hands bonded together, prohibiting him from moving and leaving him to watch. That is clearly torture for him.
But Vox is a little more confused about his punishment. He gets pegged, and gets to eat pussy. Why is that bad? Vox fully thinks he knows what’s happening, and he thinks he has it better than Val, too.
But he’s wrong. Because not only is he overwhelmed to the point of struggling to breathe, he’s also getting virtually none of you or Velvettes attention. Because that’s Velvettes reward; she gets all of the praise and full, undivided, attention.
In fact, you didn’t even gag Valentino, so you can hear his whiny complaints as clear as day. And even then, you ignore him and go back to passionately kissing Velvette.
Her hands are clinging to your shoulders as you two make out, and every now and then she lets a moan out into your mouth. Although your hips are roughly ramming into Vox, who’s crying like bitch if you can believe it, you’re more concerned with Velvettes perfect lips, and marking up her smooth neck.
And the part that really infuriates Vox and Val, is how kind and gentle your being, despite how much of an attitude Velvettes had this week! Seriously, it was only that stupid gift that warranted all of that praise? AND their terrible punishment! That wasn’t fair.
“So pretty baby, so good for me,” you’d mumble into her neck as you begin to suck on her delicate skin. Velvette is biting her lip to stop herself from making any unwarranted comments, and so instead she’s just shooting smug looks at Val inbetween whines and occasionally pushing her pussy further into Vox’s tongue.
And then you make your way back up to her lips, “Look to perfect, my sweet girl. So proud of you, so well behaved.” Boy, that fucked with Vox, whose tongue is getting increasingly tired, and who’s already crying from the rough sensation of you fucking into his ass. Let alone the emptiness of his attention deprived dick.
And even though the sound is muffled, you can still hear every sound he makes because that’s how fucking loud he is. He’s whining for a break, and sobbing uncontrollably. Valentino on the other hand, is yet to break down into tears, but is tiring from complaining. His bratty attitude is obviously faltering, being overcome by a longing to be taken care of, to have your attention again.
But you refuse to give in to either of your brats. At least, not before your angel, Velvette, has the chance to cum again for the countless time tonight.
Humiliation in front of the other Vees
With Vox, this would be very easy. He has an incredibly fragile ego and gets defensive and embarrassed fast. Like any small comment about his submissive behavior in bed would get him absolutely pissed. Because you know that he’d be made fun of relentlessly. He’d be yelling at the other Vees to do something and they’d be like “Or what? Are you gonna tell your [mommy/daddy] on us?” and his screen would heat up and turn a shade of pink, and his voice would glitch out when he yells “FUCK YOU!” at the top of his lungs.
With Velvette, I don’t think it would be hard, but definitely not as easy as Vox. It definitely would have to be more than just making a few offhanded comments, that’s for sure. Like maybe actually fucking her close to a public space, specifically where the other two Vees would be able to hear her if she was too loud. And of course she’d do okay for a while but she’d let a few loud moans slip. And Vox or Val would be snickering at her when you two got back like, “Did you have a good time? Sure sounded like it..”
With Valentino…. yeah good luck. He’s not normally, or at all, embarrassed when it comes to sex things. I think the only thing that would actually get him would be like his power bottom facade being revealed to be a whiny little bitch in secret. Like maybe a picture of him crying his eyes out on bed slips into the Vees group chat… oops! See that would bother him. He’d be spam texting you to “Delete that right now or I swear to FUCK—“ but the damage is done and you’ve successfully humiliated that dumb slut of an overlord.
Gentle sex with the Vees
So when I say RARE CIRCUMSTANCE, I mean it. Because they are such fucking shits all the time, relentlessly. But on occasion, everyone needs a nice, tender fuck. Including you.
Like I could all see them kinda taking turns with your attention, getting you off semi-selflessly so you’d be nice with them in return. I’m going to be real though, I don’t have a lot of ideas for this one, because I haven’t put much thought into it.
Basically, if you have any ideas for dom reader and gentle sex with the Vees, send them in. I’m lost.
BONUS*** Fancy gala idea
Drawing attention to this idea because it is GENUINELY SO SILLY AND REALISTIC.
You’d arrive at the fancy gala and they’d all be all over you. Velvette holding onto your arm with her hand on her hip as she surveys the area, Valentino sanding directly behind you with his hands resting on your shoulders, and Vox hovering close by, making sure he’s just a little bit in front of you but talking at you so obviously everyone in the room thinks you’ve arrived together.
Because then absolutely they would be telling everyone they talk to, like just slipping in the idea that you’re their plus one. And they’d even talk to some of the same people and have to clarify like “Oh those two have no idea what they’re talking about, y/n arrived with me, let’s get that straight.”
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a/n — I actually have nothing to say for once in my life! Hope you enjoyed.
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theemporium · 1 day
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blues lagoon, quinn, "you look like hell" "i feel like it" 👉👈 🥸
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
18. "You look like hell" "I feel like it"
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“You look like hell.”
And honestly, Quinn didn’t doubt it. He felt like hell, so he could only imagine what a state he looked like. He wasn’t even sure why he was here, or what he was doing. All he knew was that his brain shut down a long time ago and his body was moving on pure muscle memory. 
And, apparently, that led him straight to your doorstep.
“I feel like it,” was all he managed to get out. 
Because he did feel like hell. He felt like pure and utter shit and he was at his breaking point. 
It was an honour to be appointed as captain, one that Quinn was eternally grateful for. He knew they didn’t just give them to anyone. He knew that he had earned the right to wear the ‘C’ on his chest. The team wouldn’t have done it otherwise, the boys wouldn’t follow him and look up at him if they didn’t believe in him.
But sometimes—in the deepest parts of his head where he was sure nobody would ever find out—a small part of Quinn wished he said no. 
Because sometimes it was too fucking much to handle. Sometimes, it felt like he was Atlas and the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Sometimes, it meant he had to stand there and take the harsh questions and the rude ones and the ones that cut too deep after a loss. Sometimes, he was just expected to bear it all alone. Sometimes, it felt like he was alone.
Because Quinn is only human and he can only take so much before he breaks. And, as it turns out, the shutout loss earlier that night was his breaking point.
Seeing the other team celebrate goal after goal was bad enough. Seeing the arena half-empty by the final buzzer because the fans had had enough was worse. Getting yelled at and berated and scolded in the locker rooms made him feel like utter shit. And having to deal with the media asking him the stupidest points and painting him out to be the problem with the team was the final straw before Quinn felt his patience crumbling. 
He didn’t say anything to the other boys. He didn’t linger in the locker room like he usually did after losses to comfort his teammates and reassure them, like a captain was meant to do. He didn’t even give them, or anyone, a chance to say anything to him before he slipped out and rushed to his car. 
And then he just fucking drove in utter silence for hours on end. 
He had no destination in mind. He didn’t even care about the rain getting heavier and the wind getting stronger. He just kept driving and driving until his whole body felt numb, until something made the emotions swirling around in his head stop. 
And then, somewhere in the middle of that, he found himself standing in the pouring rain as he knocked on his ex-girlfriend’s door.
The same ex-girlfriend he failed to appreciate. The same ex-girlfriend who broke up with him because he was hardly available in his own relationship. The same ex-girlfriend that he lost when he became captain because he didn’t know how to balance the two. 
The same ex-girlfriend that he was still in love with, months on. 
“I–” He paused, the band around his chest tightening until he was sure his lungs would collapse from the pressure. “I can’t fucking do this.”
“Quinn,” you whispered in a soft voice before you pulled him out of the rain, before you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into your chest as. Because you knew. Because even after the breakup, you found yourself keeping tabs on Quinn and the team because you couldn’t let go of it all just yet. You couldn’t let go of him. 
“It’s too much,” he rasped, his face pressed into the crook of your neck and, fuck, he missed the smell of your perfume. He missed the way it overwhelmed his senses. He fucking missed you. “They made a mistake. I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have accepted—”
“Quinn,” you said in a firmer voice, pulling back enough so you could lift his head in your hands. “You don’t mean that”
“They look up to me,” Quinn whispered, his voice breaking. “And I can’t do shit. They look at me to support them and I just fucking run out of there like I’m a coward. Like I don’t believe in them. I was fucking stupid for thinking I could do it.” 
You shook your head. “You may be the captain but you’re still a team. You rely on each other. You have to be there for each other. None of them expect you to deal with it all yourself and be okay.”
“I’m letting them down,” he muttered. “The same way I let you down.” 
You let out a shaky breath before you pulled away. “You should go shower before you catch a cold. You’re shivering.”
His heart clenched when you stepped away. “I—”
“I’ll find some clothes for you,” you continued, pretending you didn’t see the way his face crumbled, pretending like your heart didn’t feel the exact same way at his words. “I’m sure I have some of yours lying around somewhere.”
“I’m sorry,” was all Quinn could say in response.
“What’s done is done,” you said with a strained smile. “But for what it’s worth, you are a good captain. Don’t doubt that, Quinn.”
.
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sulumuns-dootah · 2 days
Text
WHB Kings meeting their Obey Me! counterparts
A/N: I try to not pit/compare these two games against each other, but as someone who was into Obey Me! (and still is) and found out about WHB thanks to it, i need to get this out of my system.
⟡ Masterlist ⟡
The scenario is that OM!Solomon messed up some spell and made Obey Me! and What in Hell is bad? universes interconnect and our demon kings get to meet their other version. (I only included those kings that we've already met in WHB - when we get Belphie and Asmo, I might make part 2)
      ༺☆༻
Lucifer
Their meeting is the calmest and most civilised out of all of them.
They don't really talk outside of formal greeting and some polite small talk
Oh, but on the inside? OM!Lucifer is internally appalled by the amount of skin that's WHB!Lucifer showing
WHB!Lucifer is really wondering who this Diavolo guy is, since OM!Lucifer managed to mention him in their little small talk about ten times
OM!Lucifer excuses himself after some time to go make sure his brothers don't do anything stupid while meeting their counterpart
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Mammon
Oh
Oh no
This can go in two ways: OM!Mammon's ego gets absolutely crushed (there seems to be a pattern with WHB!Mammon) and just doesn't talk at all, just moping around while trying to look intimidating or he tries to get some treasures off WHB!Mammon since they're technically the same guy and he can definitely trust that he won't sell it to repay his debts
In the second case OM!Lucifer storms in and stops any of his attempts
That entertains WHB!Mammon though, and so he does give OM!Mammon some worthless (read: expensive, but not that rare) treasures
That lights up OM!Mammon's eyes and he doesn't shut up about it for the next century
      ༺☆༻
Leviathan
Well this goes even worse than the Mammons meeting
OM!Leviathan tries to keep his composure, but fails
The envy is strong in this one and some Lovecraftian horrors might get summoned
OM!Leviathan now has more reasons to put himself down, good luck OM!MC with this one
WHB!Leviathan has a hard time believing that that's him from different universe. What went wrong?
But it does make him feel better. He was worried that this other Leviathan would look better than him and beat him at one of the things he's best at
If OM!Lucifer manages to calm OM!Leviathan, they might be able to bond over their use of bathtubs, but no promises
      ༺☆༻
Beelzebub
WHB!Beelzebub expected a lot, but not this
He's not horny? He just loves to eat food so much he even eats inedible objects like pillars of buildings?
Though, he does now wonder how that tastes
OM!Beelzebub tries to not judge WHB!Beelzebub just based on looks, but can't help himself to see how thin he is. Does he even eat at all?
Also, what are those gemstones and how would they taste?
The huge word 'FEED' on WHB!Beelzebub's coat reminds him that he hasn't eaten in a while
The moment WHB!Beelzebub mentions about his hobby in cooking, OM!Beelzebub is on board and on the way to the nearest kitchen
Interestingly enough, the aphrodisiac effects don't seem to be working on OM!Beelzebub, so he just enjoys the meal, but secretly wishes it was Barbatos' cooking instead
      ༺☆༻
Satan
'What do you mean Lucifer is your father?'
These two have hard time accepting that they're technically the same demon.
WHB!Satan is disappointed. He expected someone more scary than horned chicken impersonator. What's that boa about? How do you fight angels in that?
OM!Satan tries to stay calm and not loose his temper when WHB!Satan teases his about his clothing. Somehow he manages.
WHB!Satan is surprisingly more talkative than with most demons. They're the same demon after all and therefore they face the same difficulties, no?
OM!Satan is glad to hear that his other self is favored by his people. The pain kink though? He could do without knowing that, really.
      ༺☆༻
A bonus! ^^
Barbatos
OM!Barbatos is trying to stay as calm and professional as possible, but can't help but wonder what on earth is that noose for
When he finds out it's to show loyalty for his master, he gets calmer
When he finds out that it does actually gets used for hanging, he's back to slight panic mode
WHB!Barbatos doesn't like OM!Barbatos from the beginning. How does one absorb sunlight in so much clothes? No wonder he's so pale and seemingly tired all the time.
All these gloomy colors make him sad. It's almost like this other Barbatos sucked all the color out of the room.
OM!Barbatos is appaled to find out about WHB!Barbatos' interests, but feels intrigued. If the sun ever came up in Devildom, he would try sunbathing, albeit more modestly dressed.
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erwinsvow · 1 day
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“yeah, you want that one?” rafe asks you, while you browse through the dresses on the rack. the one you’ve picked out to show him is yellow gingham, with skinny straps and a bow on the neckline. you hold the dress to your chest, looking down to see where it’ll end on you. “i’ll get it for you.”
“hm…” you consider the idea for a moment, holding the dress out again to get a better look. “i don’t know. it’s pretty short.”
“since when is that a bad thing?” rafe moves his arm against the rack, manhandling the hanger from your hand and holding it against you himself. “think it’s perfect.” you laugh at your boyfriend’s antics.
“there has to be a reason to wear it, rafe. i don’t have any right now.”
“we’ll go to dinner. there’s your reason.”
“i have other dresses,” you decide finally, putting it back between the others.
“c’mon, just let me get it for you.” he follows you while you walk away and wander towards the jewelry section of the store. you look down at sparkling silver and shimmery gold, while rafe joins you and leans against the glass counter. “you want jewelry instead? that’s fine.”
“no, i’m just looking,” you insist again. “it’s called window shopping. ever heard of it? 
there’s pretty things in the case, a silver bracelet with little blue stones that particularly catches your eye since blue is your new favorite color, but you don’t really want anything, and you really don’t want rafe to buy it for you.
“no. just pick somethin’ out. my treat.” you glance up at rafe.
“for what? i haven’t done anything.” he laughs to himself, not necessarily at you, more because of you.
“i don’t need a reason.” he makes you flush, so you walk away again, this time to the shoes. you hold a pair of brown sandals in your hand, flipping them over to see the size.
“you already treated me, remember? you paid for lunch.” rafe grabs the shoes out of your hands too.
“that’s a meal, not a treat. want these?” he looks down at you, not even sparing a glance to the price tag. “c’mon.” you grab his wrist as fast as you can.
“no! no. i have some just like these. it’ll be a waste, i’ll never wear them.”
“are you bein’ serious or are you just sayin’ that?” damn it. you are just saying it, since you don’t want rafe spending his money on you. you lie to cover your tracks.
“serious. i’d never lie to you.”
you wrestle the shoes out of his hand, settling them back on the shelf. 
“fine. c’mon, we can go somewhere else.” you finally let him buy you an ice cream cone just so he’ll stop offering.
you try to explain to rafe that the reason you want to walk around is to look around and spend time with him, not to really buy things, but he’s hard to convince. 
rafe thinks you need to stop being so worried about what everyone will think. you’re still bad at it, trying to ignore that part of you that murmurs in your ear that people will judge you for all these nice, new things rafe wants to buy you. you think people will say you’re dating him for the money, but worse than that, you think people will say bad things about rafe, about his choice in dating you, if you ever make him buy you more than dinner or ice cream.
your hesitancy gets the best of you, and even though you’ve always had some nice things, being pampered by rafe feels inherently wrong, like you should at least make sure he knows he doesn’t need to buy you anything. lost in your own thoughts, you’ve rejected his offers countless times, and the only new, expensive thing he’s gotten you since you started dating is the R necklace you wear everyday. 
you think you’re good at hiding it, but you’re not. rafe sees right through you, and he knows what he’s going to do about it. 
later that week, rafe drops you off at home in the morning after you slept over. you still think he hates driving in the cut—as much as he denies it—but he refuses to let you bike back and forth to tannyhill. 
“i’ll pick you up for dinner.” he says, leaning across you to open the passenger side door. you flush like you always do, partly because he’s not asking, he’s telling.
you nod, and then wave bye from the window. he waits until you get inside to drive away, which makes you want to go scream into your pillow. you head into your room to do just that, but you’re greeted instead by bags and boxes littered across your bed.
you know what they are, even before you walk over on your wobbly knees and set aside the tissue paper, looking down with watery eyes all the things you had been admiring in the store the other day with rafe. you sit down next to them—the yellow dress, the pretty sandals, the glittery bracelet—and dial rafe’s number on your phone. you exhale shaky breaths while the line rings, but can’t hold back tears any longer when he answers.
“you didn’t have to do this,” you say quietly into the phone, biting your cheek. you try to blink away the new tears.
“do what?” you laugh, so rafe laughs too. 
“i…i feel bad when you buy me things.”
“i know. y’should stop that.”
“or you can stop first.”
“i’m never gonna stop.” you suck in a breath, heart thudding and feeling deliriously in love. “gonna come get you later. wear the new stuff, okay?”
“okay. i will.”
“that’s my girl.” you fall back and let your head hit the pillow.
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dmitriene · 13 hours
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cw: mentions of groping and attempts at harassment, reader stays her ground, simon falls in love and kind of a horny mutt, smut is not the main curse.
simon keeps his distance from relationships, he has enough problems of his own, he rarely stays in one place because of deployments, and very often risks his life.
until simon observes a situation in a bar that turns his world upside down, making him feel a prickly warmth in his lower stomach and a whirlwind of thoughts consisting only of the same words
— “she's gonna be mine„
it was so easy, you only had to go to the bar for the first time in a long time to unwind, only to get caught by an annoying, nasty guy who didn't want to stop trying to touch you and whisper nasty compliments to you like — “your tits looks so good in this shirt„ “wanna get out of here with me?„ “don't play hard to get„
until it all turned into screams and pig squeals, as soon as you poured the drink from your hands on his gross self, ruining not only his clothes, leaving them sticky, but also his image, attracting the attention of almost all the customers and also the bartender, a clever one who immediately called for help to get the man out before he did anything worse, not to mention his squeals about — “fucking bitch! that how you react to some attention?!„
it's really easy, responding with rudeness to rudeness and not tolerating humiliation just for the sake of saving face, not even yours, in public, instead keeping your nerve and addressing rude people in their own language, before wiping your hands with a napkin and going back to relaxing by ordering another drink.
and simon is not at all ashamed to admit to himself that the whole performance, carefully followed by his thawed chocolate eyes, not only made him aroused, which caused him to fidget in the seat, spreading his legs wider and squeezing the prominent bulge in his pants, tenting against the fabric of the black jeans —
but also allowed him to imagine how it would have been in different circumstances, yelling at him about completely different things — while being on top of him, riding his fat cock with rough rolls of your round hips and loud slaps of your plush ass against his relaxed, muscular thighs, the warm, gummy walls of your cunny clench around his meaty cock so good, making him go delirious with just one imagination how hot you would sound with his name and orders slipping past your soft, bitten from his hungry mouth, lips — “h — haa, yesyesyes, simon! stay just like that, s' good!„
it's all enough to make simon break out of his habitual image in which he tries to keep a low profile, he calls the waiter to ask him to extend your drink at his expense, and it's really more than enough for simon, because you don't hesitate to find his gaze among the numerous tables when you're told that another cocktail you didn't ask for is a compliment from another customer, and simon doesn't hide his communion either.
he catches your gaze back, feeling a thrilling shiver in his body, and raises his glass of bourbon to the thin line of pale lips that spread into a smile of their own, accord when he sees your biased squint, but even though his slightly intimidating balaclava and broad physique, you nod, thankfully, your lips moving in silent gratitude — “thank's, sir„
that was his green flag, to sit in the bar until you were about to leave, leaving the room and his line of sight, slipping out if only for a moment, because simon couldn't let you go home alone after all that, coming out after you and as gently as possible touching your shoulder to make you turn, your gaze falling onto his warm eyes before processing the hoarse words he said
— “le' me wolk you home, hm? nothing more, jus' a safe wolk, lovie?„
and will you refuse? after all, no matter how hard you try to think otherwise, something in his whole form inspires of unexpected safety, so maybe he's the one who will be your normal company tonight.
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