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springtyme · 2 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐎𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐨 ♡

Carmy x afab!reader || Series masterlist || Series playlist

Can also be read on ao3 || Main masterlist || Next chapter

chapter summary: You moved to Chicago six months ago. You still don’t really feel at home in a new city, far away from friends and family, but you make a new connection one night when your new neighbor almost set your apartment building on fire.

word count: 3.1k

warnings/tags: Eventual smut! (18+, mdni!) Language. Smoking. Angst and fluff. Slow burn. Mutual pining. Strangers to friends to lovers. Set in season one. Vague mentions of Mikey’s situation. Reader is from Copenhagen, or has at least have lived there for a longer period of time, but it isn't directly mentioned that it's her nationality, and no description of appearance is mentioned. Reader's exact age isn't mentioned either, but it is implied that she is around Carmy's age.

"My head and my heart and my hands are longing I just woke up in smoke feeling the heat coming Cause the house is on fire"

Copenhagen, six months ago

The cool breeze from the water blows gently against your cheeks, and you can’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia creeping in. The calm waters of the harbor glisten in the evening sun, casting a mesmerizing reflection on the nearby buildings. You take a drag of your cigarette, letting the smoke caress your lungs as you contemplate the big changes that lie ahead of you, the smoke swirling around you in a hazy dance. You’re not really supposed to smoke on the platform, but since the station is almost empty you let yourself indulge this one time. You’re leaving all this behind in a week anyway.

As you stand there, watching a lone seagull glide effortlessly above the water, its wings catching the last rays of sunlight, you can’t shake the feeling of bittersweetness that envelops you. Copenhagen has been your home for so long, filled with memories and familiar faces. But now, Chicago beckons with a new opportunity, and you’re leaving in a week, and you don’t fucking know if you have made the right decision or not.

You’re going to miss the ocean, that’s for damn sure. You take another puff of your cigarette, the brisk air mixing with the smoke as the golden sun slowly sets over Nordhavn. The colors of the sky shift to hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over the water. The beauty of the moment is not lost on you, but neither is the weight of the decision you’ve made.

These thoughts swirl in your mind as you take a last drag of your cigarette, exhaling slowly as if trying to let go of all your worries. The sound of the approaching train brings you back to the present. You stub out your cigarette, before the red train comes to a stop in front of you, cutting off the view of the water.

With a deep breath, you gather yourself and step onto the train. As the doors close behind you, you find a seat by the window. The familiar rumble of the tracks beneath you lulls you into a sense of calm as the train begins to move. As the train starts to pick up speed, you close your eyes. It’s going to be hard to leave it all behind and start over in a whole new city, but you know deep down that you’re in need of a change.

· · · · ·

Chicago, present day

Carmy can feel the building pressure at the sides of his skull that indicates that a nasty headache is on its way. The wet rag in his hand is feeling mushy between his fingers as the scrubs away at the steel countertop, the rhythmic sound of Gary’s broom sweeping over the floor, matching up with the incipient throbs in his temples.

He needs a fucking break and a cigarette, but he can’t really take one now, he is the one who has been so insistent that they start to take prepping and cleaning of their stations more seriously and he can’t just, fucking, leave in the middle of it, he’ll get the bottle of tylenol in the desk drawer in his office after they’ve finished.

“Chef, you want me to strain that oil for you?” Sydney asks, her voice cutting through Carmy’s pounding head.

“Uh, no, no I got it. Thank you, chef.” He’ll finish his station, strain the oil, and then take a break. Unless something else comes up, which there most likely will.

“Why am I using a toothbrush, chef?” Marcus asks from his place at the stove where he is scrubbing the burners.

Carmy blinks, trying to push aside the growing migraine as he explains, “It’s about consistency and being consistent. Can’t operate at a higher level without consistency.” He can’t help but feel a pang of guilt for pushing his team so hard with all these new changes, but he knows they need to seriously step up their game if this place is ever going to be just a little less of a shit show.

“I like this level,” Richie exclaims.

“Yeah, well, at The French Laundry you know how much time we’d spend-” Carmy begins, but Richie cuts him off.

“Well, go fuck your French Laundry. Stupid fucking name.”

And yeah, Richie might be right, it kind of is a stupid name, but Carmy is not about to start a discussion over the fucking name of a French-Californian fusion place. “All right, then at Noma.”

“Fuck your Noma too,” Richie retorts.

Carmy just shakes his head, deciding to let Richie’s attitude slide for now. He doesn’t have the energy to argue with him, not with the pain in his head steadily increasing.

“Noma’s the shit, huh?” Marcus chimes in.

“The best,” Carmy and Sydney respond in unison before Carmy continues. “It’ll teach you to operate at a level you didn’t even know you could operate at, Marcus,” he tells the baker before turning to address Richie again, “And just so we’re clear, I wanted to work here. Mikey wouldn’t let me.”

“Oh, no, no. You went halfway around the world to learn all this fancy, useless fucking bullshit. I went to West Lawrence Avenue and learned every level.”

“West Lawrence? You’re talking about DeVry?” Marcus asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Yeah, exactly,” Richie confirms.

“Oh, DeVry. ‘We’re serious about success,’” Marcus jokes, using an exaggerated deep voice.

“Is that supposed to be fucking funny, fucko?” Richie grins at Marcus before jokingly trying to tackle the younger man who by now has bursted into laughter. “Let me tell you something. No for real,” Richie lets go of Marcus pointing his finger in the air as he continues. “Where else are you gonna learn crucial database management specialization skills, huh? While troubleshooting a vented OptiSpark distributor in a Trans Am?”

“I would never need to learn that,” Syd interjects, not pleased with Richie’s antics.

“Definitely not Noma!” Richie exclaims.

“I would legit do anything to go to Noma,” Sydney says longingly.

“And eat bugs?!” Richie teases.

Those ants had been a fucking pain to work with, but Carmy keeps that to himself, he is not about to give Richie that victory.

“And be inspired, stupid,”Sydey retorts.

“God, and be lame.” Richie counters.

But before more can be said about DeVry or inspiration or, fucking, bugs, Ebra storms into the kitchen, interrupting them. “The ice cream machine is broken!”

Just like Carmy had predicted, something else had come up. He turns to Richie. “DeVry teach you to fix that?”

“You know what? Actually, yes.” Richie says, swinging his dish towel over his shoulder before starting to pick up a bunch of random tools and utensils, including two wooden spoons, leaving the room to join Ebra at the ice cream machine.

Another fucking thing in this place that doesn’t work, Carmy should probably just call Fak before Richie can break it even more, but it is not like the old machine can really get much worse, it’s and old piece of shit and almost no one ever orders the ice cream anyway, so why not let Richie feel a little useful.

· · · · ·

A swirl of steam dances in the air as you trace the rim of the mug with your finger, the aroma of the tea is filling the room, mixing with the scent from the lavender candle you have lit, enveloping your senses with a bittersweet nostalgia.

You are sitting in your kitchen, staring out of the window, another night unable to sleep. The vague sound of the city filters through the glass along with the warm glow from the street lights and signs which are the only cause of light along with the candle, its flickering flame casting a gentle shadow upon the room.

You take a sip of the tea, feeling the warmth travel down your throat, before wrapping your hands around the warm mug, seeking comfort in its gentle heat. The steam rises and dissipates into the air, mirroring the ephemeral pattern of your tired thoughts. Outside the window, the city continues its nocturnal rhythm, its heartbeat resonating with your own. The distant sounds of car horns, and the occasional sound of the L train rumbling by and the vocational sirens mixing together into a harmonious cacophony.

You close your eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath, but you open them again quickly, wrinkling your nose. Something suddenly smells wrong… It’s vague, but it’s like burning plastic or something. You quickly look down at the candle to check if something got into it, but nothing is there. You don’t get to ponder more about it though, before a sudden, piercing sound slices through the tranquil ambiance of your kitchen. Your eyes widen in surprise as the shrill wail of a fire alarm blares from the apartment next door.

Concerned, you immediately put down your mug, while the smell of smoke starts to get more intense. This would normally be worrying enough, but what’s the real kicker to your concern is that no one’s lived in the apartment next to yours in the last four months. You stand up, stepping into your slippers while grabbing the zip up hoodie you had hanging on the back of your chair. You quickly throw the hoodie around you, slipping your arms into the sleeves and wrapping the oversized garment around you, not bothering zipping it.

You blow out the candle, as you quickly grab your phone, sliding it into the pocket of your sweatpants. You Swiftly make your way through your apartment, stepping out into the hallway, the smell of smoke now stronger. The ear-splitting beeps of the fire alarm continue to echo through the corridor as you approach the door of your neighboring apartment. You hesitate for a moment, You try to listen if you can hear anything from inside, but all you can hear is the sound of the alarm.

Has someone really moved in without you noticing? But how likely is it that a spontaneous fire starts in an unoccupied apartment? Raising your hand you knock on the door. Nothing happens, and panic grips your chest, thoughts of evacuation and calling the fire department race through your mind, but you are pulled out of your spiraling thoughts as all of a sudden the loud beeping stops and you can now hear a vague shuffling sound from inside the apartment.

You knock again, your heart beating fastly as you wait. There is someone in there, and you both get worried that they might not be okay and need help while you simultaneously feel weird about someone being inside the apartment you thought was empty.

The seconds stretch as you wait for a response. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, but in reality only is a few seconds, the door creaks open, revealing a disheveled figure standing before you, and you are met with a pair of eyes so piercing blue that it catches you off guard. They belong to a man, around your own age if you have to guess, dirty blonde curls framing his face in a messy, yet oddly charming way.

He is wearing a white t-shirt, which you can’t help but notice is hugging his biceps extremely nicely, with tattoos scattered across his arms and hands. He has dark circles under his eyes and a look on his face that screams of pure exhaustion, yet his eyes are wide and alert, like someone who has just been woken abruptly.

“Hi,” you stammer, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the man. “I heard the fire alarm and smelled smoke, I just wanted to check that everything was okay, I-I live next door,” you say, sheepishly pointing in the direction of your door.

“Oh, hi,” the man replies, his voice slightly hoarse and rough, as if he hadn’t spoken in a while, yet soft. “I-I’m so sorry if I woke you. I… I accidentally burnt some shit, I’m sorry,” he says a bit bashfully, his cheeks turning slightly pink. A short moment of silence hangs between you both as you process the situation.

You can see the genuine embarrassment in his eyes, which brings a sense of ease to your worried mind. He seems harmless enough, just a regular person who made a mistake. You decide to let him off the hook, even though his explanation doesn’t quite match up with the intensity of the burning smell that fills the air, offering him a supportive but also slightly shy smile. “Accidents happen, don’t worry about it. I’m a terrible cook too,” you say, trying to lightning the mood.

“Well, I’m actually a chef,” he says a little awkwardly.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mea-”, you stammer, trailing off as you realize your unintentional insult, but he cuts you off in the same sheepish tone as you.

“No, no, it’s fine I didn’t mean…” he begins to say before shutting up mid sentence, and the two of you share a brief, awkward but understanding laugh before another silence settles between you.

Now that you have been made sure that nothing urgent is going on you take a second to take him better in, and you can’t help but notice how attractive you find him, captivated by the piercing blue eyes and intrigued by the subtle tattoos that peek out from under his short sleeves, now realizing that several of them are kitchen themed.

“So, everything’s under control now?” you ask, tearing your gaze from his arms as you realize that you had been staring for a little too long, glancing past him into the apartment. The lingering scent of smoke still hangs heavily in the air.

He nods, running a hand through his rumpled locks. “Yeah, yeah, it’s fine now,” he reassures, but the smell of smoke still hangs very heavily in the air.

You hesitate for a moment, debating whether or not to invite him into your apartment while his gets aired out. You don’t know him, and inviting a stranger into your apartment in the middle of the night isn’t really ideal, but something about his tired eyes and disheveled appearance tugs at your heartstrings, and you can’t shake off the feeling that he might need some company. And with the tired, almost haunted look in his eyes you also can’t help but be reminded of Michael.

Michael had lived in the apartment next to yours when you moved in six months ago. You did not know him well, but he had always been friendly when you talked to him. He seemed like the type of guy who is friends with everyone, despite it being clear that he was dealing with some internal shit.

One night you had encountered him in the hallway and he had seemed off. You were on your way home, and he was on his way out. He appeared caught off guard by your presence, and after you greeted him, he had just turned around and walked back into his apartment instead of leaving the building like he was supposed to. Little did you know that it was the last time you would see your old neighbor. A week later, you learned that he had tragically taken his own life on the State Street Bridge, just five days after your last encounter in the hallway.

You have thought about it a lot for the past four months: how he might have planned to go to the bridge the night you ran into him in the hall, and how, if you had done the same just a few days later, things might have turned out differently for him.

You don’t want to assume that your new neighbor’s situation is as dire, but you also don’t want to underestimate the impact a small act of kindness can have and now, seeing this man standing before you with a similar look of exhaustion and vulnerability, you can’t help but feel a sense of responsibility to offer him some support.

“Hey, um... I know this might sound a little strange, but if you need a place to stay while your apartment airs out, you’re welcome to come to my place,” you offer, your voice filled with genuine concern.

The man’s tired eyes widen slightly, clearly caught off guard by your unexpected invitation. “That’s incredibly kind of you, but I wouldn’t want you to lose any more sleep because of me,” he responds, his voice filled with gratitude and a hint of hesitation.

You are quick to shake your head, realizing that you never told him that he didn’t wake you. “Oh, you haven’t made me lose any sleep, I was already awake, so please don’t worry about that.” The man’s shoulders relax a bit, a little of the tension melting away. He takes a moment to consider your offer, his gaze flickering between your face and the open doorway of his smoke-filled apartment. The exhaustion in his eyes is undeniable..

“No pressure,” you say softly, breaking the silence. “But, seriously you are more than welcome, I can make some coffee, I got both normal and decaf, or some tea. I also have some leftover takeout in the fridge, I could need some help to get eaten, if you’re hungry.”

The man’s hesitant expression softens, and he offers a grateful smile. “Thank you,” he says, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. “I don’t want to impose, but coffee does sound really good.”

You nod understandingly. “Of course, no imposition at all.”

“Okay, thank you. I’ll just get some of these windows cracked open then,” the man says, stepping back into his apartment and disappearing from view for a moment. You hear the sound of windows being opened, the crisp night air filtering in and mingling with the heavy aroma of smoke.

You turn your head, for some reason you feel a little rude to stand staring into his apartment even though you just invited him into yours, your eyes landing on the nameplate next to the door. Berzatto. It has not been changed since Michael.

After a few moments, the man reappears at the doorway, now holding a light jacket under his arm, and his keys, phone and a pack of cigarettes in his hand. His disheveled appearance remains, but there’s a glimmer of gratitude in his tired eyes.

“Ready to go?” you ask, offering a reassuring smile.

He nods, stepping out into the hall with you.

“You know, uhm,” you say, pointing at the nameplate. “You can talk to the resident manager.” His eyes following the direction of your finger. “He’ll help you get your name up.”

“Oh, no that’s… that’s me,” he says, sheepishly pointing at the nameplate. “Well, it’s also me,” he explains, a little clumsily, before turning to you again. “I’m Carmen… Carmen Berzatto.”

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated :) let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter ♡

@wittyno

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multiship-brainrot · 3 months

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A lil rambling about the subtle perfection of Vaggie's design

I seriously can't stop thinking about how no other characters had any questions about Vaggie or her origin especially when you consider her design.

I know there have been some major retcons to her backstory, but she still is (arguably) the most human-looking citizen in all of Hell.

Like even the most human looking of sinners like Velvette or Camilla's daughters still have flat/no noses, horns, more prominent & sharper fangs/teeth, but Vaggie?? Nah, none of that. She's even a standard human height with most demons being way above or below average human height, except for lower ranking demons like succubus, imps or hellhounds. The other exception to this rule? Lucifer; the only other fallen angel that we know of.

I also feel like this really recontextualizes this line from Husk in episode 4:

As a former gambling overload, reading people would be a necessary skill for Husk, especially if he is only given a matter of one game to get to understand them. Luckily for him, sinner forms have a connection to the kind of lives they had on earth.

Seeing Vaggie's form, and her lack of more traditionally demonic features that most other demons have, it would have been safe to say that he assumed all she got was a palette swap & an eyepatch of all things because her opinion of herself was so low she already profoundly saw herself as a monster (which is technically true).

And I feel as though the deliberate choice to switch her old dress in place of a more uniform-like outfit speak volumes about her sense of self and how she feels she must have to serve someone or a greater purpose instead of existing to exist.

Just like it was mentioned in episode 3, who is she if she can't be of service? what's the point of her? And that honestly broke my heart.

Really hoping that the series will start to explore this aspect of her character and she'll be able to find out who she is outside of Charlie, it's what she deserves! Would also love to see her bond with the other members of the main cast more (especially Lucifer & Husk, call them the Alastor Hate Squad or the Wings Club or idk they have so much potential) 💜

#hazbin hotel #hazbin charlie #hazbin vaggie #chaggie #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel vaggie #charlie morningstar #vivziepop #hazbin hotel season 1 #vaggie #hazbin hotel prediction #hazbin hotel analysis #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel lucifer

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satorhime · 2 years

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⁺　 ୨୧ . ᕀ SUGARSTREAM ♡ | ˚｡꒰ gojo satoru x female reader ᨀ ꒱ minors do not interact ᨀ w.c 9.2k˓˓ explicit smut, camgirl!reader, fanboy!gojo, virgin killer!gojo, cherry chasing, sex toys, anal play, candy play [ gojo fucks the reader with a lollipop ], virgin kink, corruption, teasing, cum play, age gap [ gojo is 33 + reader is in 20s ], fingering, masturbation, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, dumbification, praise, orgasm control. ˚｡ SUMMARY ᨀ gojo satoru has a big sweet tooth, an insane amount of money to spend on his favorite camgirl and most importantly, a dick that corrupts innocent girls for life.

gojo satoru has a big sweet tooth.

he can always be seen ordering a frappuccino with five pumps of caramel syrup and extra whipped cream at starbucks, showing up to morning training with an entire platter of chocolate dipped berries, or suckling a tootsie pop with obscenely inappropriate noises during important meetings because the components in sugar stimulates his brain, giving the right amount of rush someone like him needs to keep sane.

his credit card is most swiped at sweet shoppes and random souvenir stands that sell his favorite melon sugar cubes, or the zunda and cream kikufuku he likes so much.

because his appetite for the sweeter things in life is insatiable.

that's why it isn't a surprise he developed a craving for you. he's always had a greedy taste for doe-eyed young women and you happened to be exactly his type. saccharine smile, giggly laugh, and a head full of bubblegum. ijichi kiyotaka's sweet little apprentice who skipped through the halls eating strawberry hi-chews for lunch instead of proper meals, wearing tiny little skirts and rootbeer flavored lip gloss just to torment gojo into wanting to lick it onto his tastebuds.

pure and lovely, you've become his favorite sugar rush.

and with the help of pop culture and social media, he can have a sample before he finally buys the product.

RECENT TWEET FROM @xoyoursweetenerxo: i'll be streaming in 10 mins wearing new lingerie! come take a peek at pixelme.jp/sweetener

that's the alert that begins gojo's unraveling, rolling into his notification center. his heart kicks up an irritating notch when he flips his phone over in his hand and reads your username on the screen. he can feel the curious eyes of his three former students on his back as they trail him down the hall, but he has tunnel vision and cotton ears, their incessant chatter echoing in one ear and out the other.

“gojo-sensei, did you hear anything i just said?” megumi snaps, his annoyed tone barely registering.

“i heard a rumor that he finally has a girlfriend now, that's why he's always so distracted,” nobara gossips into yuuji's ear, the two casting a long, knowing glance at their mentor.

“so it's like that?”

“it's like that.”

“what were you saying?” gojo asks distractedly, lifting one side of his blindfold to unlock his phone, bringing up the twitter app. his main account loads first and he spares a single glance to nanami's weekend vacation update, two for tsukumo straddling her motorbike in hokkaido, and none for aoi ranting about takada's dating rumors at the top of his timeline.

he never hears megumi's reply because he's too busy switching to his private account, an empty lurker with a black photo. eager to click your profile.

tonight's stream invitation is pinned at the top, decorated with pink hearts but he ignores that for now. making sure to hold his phone at an angle his nosy ass kids can't peek at, a long pale finger swipes up to bring the scroll down to a spam of grwm selfies you just posted, a ritual before your streams. you're cute as a button in each one, but it's the last one— on hands and knees, ass pointed to the camera—that makes him groan, the sound covered up by an exaggerated sneeze.

“um, gross!” nobara screeches at him, folding her arms and leaning away. “you sounded like a middle aged dad.”

satoru stops his long stride suddenly, masking his irritation by reaching into his pocket for his wallet, flipping the leather open for a spare credit card. he hands it to kugisaki with a pat on her head, grinning when she slaps his hand down and pockets his card without question.

“you know what? mission’s canceled for tonight!” he cheers, already heading in the opposite direction, shooting finger guns. he's eager to get away from his kids and to his office where he can concentrate on your stream. “go out without me and have fun!”

he waves off their confused looks, disappearing in a flash. attention glued to his phone like a teenaged boy. the sorcerer feels his cock twitch to life in his pants the longer he stares at your picture. you're wearing a skater dress that barely covers your plump ass, giving your twitter followers a tease of soft skin and cute stretch marks on the back of your thighs.

he knows that if he wants to see more, like the devastating visual of your slit spread around your favorite dildo, he'll have to join the stream and tip up.

not many people know about your other life. the angel who brings in sponge cake and iced coffee each morning to gojo, who shyly refuses to meet his stare whenever he walks into the room, unable to stand the intensity of his flirtations, is a camgirl with views high enough to land you in the top rated tab. people tipped you good and in return, you let them control your pleasure.

and gojo satoru is your biggest fan.

he hadn't been stalking when he found out. he'd just been passing by one of the staff rooms with the intention of terrorizing ijichi and found you instead, boldly streaming from your phone, whispering i bought my first vibrator! should i try it at work?

those annoying hot girls in your area, click for more! ads weren't needed because gojo had never made an account so fast.

and if he tuned into your grainy stream from his office, cock shamelessly fisted in his hand as he watched you push your panties to the side, phone camera positioned in an upskirt shot of you struggling to fit the small, vibrating toy inside your tight little cunt? mind your business.

he unlocks the door to his office now, shutting himself in before he clicks the streaming link, letting his phone redirect to the site so he can log in.

username: honoredone89 password: hollowedout28

"is the stream stable? hi, welcome! we'll get started soon."

the sound of your airy, girlish voice rings out from his phone as he falls into a leather lounge chair. you're streaming from your room this evening, dressed in frilly and frothy lingerie and a pair of lacy thigh highs, sitting up on your knees on a bed draped in a white gossamer canopy.

rosy led lights wash out the pretty tone of your skin in a soft pink glow, selling your sweet and innocent image. gojo figures that's why you're so popular— you feed right into their desires to turn out girls like you, drawing them in like worker bees to honey.

“how's my apprenticeship? it's going so good, thank you!” you answer a comment from one of your regulars, waving shyly at the viewers pouring into the virtual room.

“this won't be a long stream since i have to wake up early tomorrow, but...” you prattle on, leaning forward to check the viewer count. gojo's attention is drawn to the plump swell of your breasts in your bralette. god, he wants to run his lips all over the lace so bad; tonguing and biting over your nipples through the flimsy fabric until they're bitten raw. “while we wait for more to join, what did you boys do today-”

“ah, shoot. i almost forgot!” you gasp, twisting around to lean out of the canopy; opening the drawer on the nightstand.

as you rummage around, bent over, you accidentally allow your fans to admire the panties you're wearing. crotchless and lacy, the clips of a garter attached to your stockings. the backshot gives him a perfect peek at the shadowed seam of your pussy too, the little scraps of fabric on the front kissing your clit.

but more importantly, he can see the heart-shaped glass plug buried in the dip of your ass.

oh. well, when did you get that?

his tastebuds water, sweet tooth waking up for cravings. a quick decision made that he will stop holding himself back and get a taste of you, that he will be the end to your innocence.

in2feet chatted: this is boring hurry up and get naked

nakedman chatted: location? i'd fuck your ass so good kitten

it was obviously unintentional because your look of ditzy confusion is too cute when you turn around with the matching dildo, shaped like a sailor moon wand. but it ends up being the perfect way to begin your stream— tips roll in without prompting, chat pinging with comments.

“hehe, what are you guys- o-oh..” your question ends in a small sigh that makes his cock throb in his slacks. the air feels stagnant and warm in his office so he drags his blindfold down, unbuttoning the high collar of his jacket. you settled back on the bed too fast, the glass flare of the plug in your ass shifting, pushing a little deeper, twinging an unfamiliar lurch in your tummy. “t-to be honest, i've never used a plug before so it hurts a bit.”

a young starlet improvising on a mistake, you lift the wand to your lips. pastel pink tongue peeking out to wet the tip as you blink innocently at the cam. "can i put this in the other hole to distract myself from the pain?"

gojo can feel his brain rotting down to the stems.

you settle against the cloudbank of pillows, bringing your laptop a little closer to finish setting up and check the time. “before i start, i want to remind everyone that i'll only take requests from the highest tipper tonight!”

cyberme chatted: whenever you're ready, baby. we're watching!

cyberme and 10 others tipped 20 hearts

tittystan (★ tip) tipped 50 hearts

“you guys are so sweet!” the sound of the tip bell and chat alerts fill the volume of your room, drowning out your voice. lewd requests and thirsty comments begin to chime in, begging for you to remove your bra, show your pussy, play with the plug in your ass.

you have these men wrapped around your little finger, even though their hearts will be cashed out for real coins at the end of the night.

tittystan (★ tip) chatted: play with those pretty tits for us pls

“is this okay?” your impatient thumb rubs over a clothed nipple, shivering at the touch. more tips fumble in and gojo can see you build the confidence you need to push your bralette down, tucking it under the curve of your breasts so they spill right out.

fuck... he can't help but imagine his large digits replacing yours, dragging the calloused pads of his thumbs over your nipples until you cry and his thirsty ass can drink up your tears.

satoru shifts, leaning back in his barcelona chair as he reaches down to press the heel of his palm to the swelling bulge of his cock at the same time you squeeze one of the fleshy globes into your hand, a soft whine whistling past your clenched teeth.

jacker82 (★ tip) tipped 250 hearts and chatted: fuck yourself on the dildo alr!

you nod at the comment, opening your legs a bit only to snap them shut a heartbeat later. “i-i'm sorry, i'm so nervous tonight!” your teeth chew against your bottom lip as encouraging comments ring in your chat, words of praises that urges you to go further.

posessiveness burns green through his veins at the comments from other men, but he knows how to take what he wants and right now, what he wants is your attention only on him.

honoredone89 chatted: don't be nervous. i'm with you.

honoredone89 chatted: go on and open up for me.

gojo doesn't miss the glow of arousal in your eyes as you read his comment, your heart beating faster than it ever has. honoredone89... you missed seeing his comments on your streams. he felt more like a collaborator, unafraid to poke, prod, tease. the way he talks shit at you leaves you soaked and whining each time, wondering who he is; crying into your pillow whenever he'd toss down five hundred to make you cum, then throw down another five to switch up and edge you at the last minute. want me to change my mind, angel? he'd chat out and you could almost taste his smirk.

you would be lying if you said that your little crush on this anonymous person had nothing to do with him reminding you of the white-haired fox you were instantly drawn to at the start of your apprenticeship. honoredone89 could very well be one of those creeps that records cam shows to reupload to shady porn sites or a catfish. after all, his profile picture is the lower half of a (really fucking gorgeous) mirror selfie. but considering that a man like the actual satoru wouldn't return your silly, growing affections, you're fine with cosplaying.

“o-okay, sorry,” you obey him so easily, parting your knees, finally giving your fans a view of your pretty pussy in those crotchless panties. gojo should be ashamed, but he groans at the sight. you sigh as the cool air breezes over feverish skin, cooling the wetness clinging to your folds. it's why your fans love you so much— so wet during streams, no need for lube when your cute little pussy drools out the sweetest nectar no one has had the pleasure of tasting.

“look at you, sweet girl. you got any idea what you do to me?” you've barely shown anything and he feels like losing his fucking mind.

satoru should feel guilty for what he does next, but his conscious is crystal clear. mind blank and too fucking horny to think about propriety, he unbuttons his slacks. fishes his cock out to squeeze at the base, relieving some of the ache. his balls jump desperately as you slide the glass toy between your legs on the screen.

then his phone pings with a notif the moment you press the tip to your clit— a text from megumi dropping down, covering his view of the torturous circles you rub around the swelling nub. a swipe further down and you prod it against your entrance, panting out a low whine that knocks the wind out of gojo's chest, ears ringing.

“p-please let me put it inside!” you cry to the chat, noises so pretty. you'll sound even prettier when you're under him, squirming and pleading for him to fuck you until you live only for the feeling of his cock.

gojo's summer blue eyes scan over the message from megumi, ensuring his kids aren't in danger while he fucks himself off. he chokes off breathy groans so he can hear your moans, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb over the tip of his cock. muscles in his stomach twitching in pleasure as he nudges it inside the slit so clear, watery precum dribbles past his fingers to spill down the long length of his cock.

user20180407 chatted: fuck yourself already i'm so hard!

instead of gojo replying to an annoyed megumi complaining about having to go to a pachinko parlor (yuuji's idea, no doubt) with the others, he taps the tip button before he can stop himself.

honoredone89 (★ tip) tipped 1050 hearts

honoredone89 (★ tip) chatted: just your fingers tonight, sweet girl.

"c-can i put them inside?" is your immediate answer.

honoredone89 (★ tip) chatted: nope, don't think i want you to do that.

the unhappy comments from your other viewers almost gives him more pleasure than the feeling of his palm rubbing out his cock in rough strokes.

“okay, thank you, sir,” you tuck in with a soft smile. he knows you're thanking him for the fat wad of cash in your tip jar, not him snatching away your pleasure, but the sound of the honorific from your lips sends a zip of arousal straight down his spine. the way he fucks into his hand is messy now, dragging his hand up and down his dick. precum coating his fingers white, dripping onto his slacks. “thank you for letting me touch my clit.”

he's your highest tipper and your pleasure is always in the hands of your tip jar. setting the toy aside with the hope he'll let you use it later, you open your legs until your knees touch the sheets, joints in your hips aching. reaching fingers to the opening in your panties. you're so soaked, pretty lace all darkened in spots. you spread your folds, circling your clit with two fingers.

“oooh, o-oh.. it's not enough, please let me-”

“hope y'r this greedy when i feed you my cock, princess, fuck. gonna... give you what you need soon, don't worry,” he promises to the empty air, sweating hard beneath his jacket with his hand tight around his cock. imagining that he's got you right here in his office, fucking up into your pussy as you struggle to bounce on him. on the phone, his speaker rings with your frustrated whines. your thighs tremble as you rub your clit too fast, making it sore.

a few attempt to match his price and tip him out, wanting control over your delicious pleasure; wanting you to use the dildo so they can imagine the little toy is their cocks. but unlike the cheap fucks swarming around your chat, the black metal of his bank card is limitless. there's no one that can stop him from blowing hot cash on an even hotter girl so he does. doubling your tips, tripling it down each time.

the sorcerer has plans that won't be ruined by old men escaping nagging wives and stressful jobs by twisting their dicks to the moans of pretty girls.

at the end of the night, he plans on adding another maraschino cherry to the top of his ice cream sundae.

but that all depends on you.

now when did he close his eyes? on his screen, gojo almost misses it. the prettiest sight.

“c-can i cum, sir?” you simper to your fans, to him. “fuck me. it.. it's right there. please say yes, please please!” circling the pad of your finger under the hood of your clit where you're most sensitive at, you slide a hand up your body to squeeze one of your breasts. a soft gasp pushing out to join the squish of your fingers rubbing through the wet between your thighs.

honoredone89 (★ tip) tipped 2000 hearts!

user20221030 chatted: this rich fuck is so annoying stop hogging!

gojo sounds like a maniac when he tosses his head and howls at the comment, unrestrained laughs choking off into a deep moan when he strokes down and squeezes the base of his cock. fighting off his orgasm for a torturous edge to himself.

honoredone89 (★ tip) chatted: since you can't hold it, go on and show everyone how pretty you are when you cum.

“yu-yes, sir!”

gojo wasn't lying. even the lagging connection to your stream can't dim the beauty you are when you reach your high. it burns a hole into his brain, tearing shivers down his spine as he watches the band snap as soon as you answer his comment. it's real, but you make it pretty, arching off the bed, thrashing, clamping your thighs together as you cum with strained whimpers.

reluctantly, he takes his wet cock and tucks himself away, hissing as the sensitive head presses against the zipper of his slacks.

“did you guys cum too?” you're asking shyly, ready to end your livestream. gojo cleans his hand on his blindfold with a snort at the viewers complimenting your show.

user203020 chatted: u need to block that rich dude. it's unfair. not coming back until u do

cyberme chatted: so hot, kitten. see you next time!

tittystan chatted: don't go babe i didn't get to cum yet :c

sitting up, you wrap your arms around your legs, chin resting atop your knees. your body still trembles with the aftershocks of your little orgasm, but you pull the laptop closer with a blissfully tired smile to answer questions, goodnight wishes, and thank your viewers for their support.

“thank you so much! if you have ideas for my next stream, leave a reply on twitter,” you say distractedly, tapping on your laptop.

gojo's phone buzzes with a notification shortly after and he's not surprised that it's a message sent to his account on the cam site.

xoyoursweetenerxo ♡ : hi >< you were my highest tipper!!! do you have any requests for me?

is what the message reads and gojo wears a big smirk as the cards deal a lucky hand just for him. he cradles his phone in both hands as long fingers fly over the keyboard to reply.

no more time wasted after he's blown away hours, weeks, months on the chase for you.

honoredone89: you know what? i think i do!

honoredone89 is typing . . .

honoredone89: open your door for me.

404 error: this livestream has ended!

somehow, that leads to gojo satoru standing in the middle of your room at jujutsu tech.

you'd barely had time to fix your lingerie and clear the smudges of your lipstick before a familiar rap of knuckles was at your door— the same rhythm gojo knocks against your desk each morning to get your attention.

he looks out of place standing in the frills of your pink wonderland, led lights turning pure white hair the color of blush as he glances around at your bishoujo figurines, sanrio plushies, and special edition manga volumes.

“cute,” he comments with an amused smile and points, your cheeks warming as you follow his line of vision to the sailor moon dildo sitting on your sheets, forgotten. “where's the other one?”

“h-how did you know...”

“still inside you, i take it?”

“h-how!” your reaction is adorable, different now that you're in front of him. fiddling with the ribbons of your robe, unable to watch his gemstone blue eyes darken to a deep pit of arousal when you nod.

with the feeling of a hare caught in a trap, you watch as he crosses the tiny space to stand in front of you. crowding you against the kitchenette with his imposing six foot three stature. though you want to shrink away, there is something about him that beckons you closer like the limitless, making you want to stay close to him and soak up more of his attention.

“ah, um- i bought these for you earlier today!” you blurt out to him in a hurried whisper, scrambling to reach for the decorated jar of lollipops you intended to gift to him tomorrow. “there's cream, melon, cotton candy, there's matcha too because i know you like-”

“you scared of me?” he wonders, but he accepts your distraction, plucking a cherry-flavored lollipop for himself, amused.

“no!”

he's very attractive without his blindfold, snowy peaks of hair sitting wild over his forehead. you watch as he unwraps the treat, tasting it for the first time like he's tasting you, his tongue working around it; swirling and licking it obscenely on purpose. waiting for that shift, the shameful press of your thighs even though you just had an orgasm. falling for it, you shyly avert your gaze and gojo fights down a smirk.

“there's no need to be nervous, you know,” he soothes, hooking a finger under your chin. the deep croon of his voice curls down your spine, bubbling hot desire in your tummy. "i'm right here with you."

“i-i'm not nervous!” you say, wanting to reassure him that he is welcome even though a small voice tells you to run.

after all, haven't you heard the rumors about him?

compliment him in any busy ladies room and you'll summon rumors that gojo satoru picks cherries like a farmer. that gojo satoru fucks girls high in his penthouse, only to drop them low when he ushers them to the elevator hours later. that gojo satoru—

i don't believe it, and your naive schoolgirl crush on him bats those thoughts away.

“obviously a camgirl wouldn't be nervous, silly me,” he nods, tone light and teasing. he tilts his head to the side as he reaches for you, thumb easing your silk robe apart. sensual as he pushes it off your shoulder, a shiver rolling down your spine. “did you mean what you said?”

“what do you mean?”

“in your stream,” he hums, skimming up the curve of your neck. fingernails scraping lightly over your pulse, and his cock aches at the strangled sound you make. “when you begged me to touch you, fuck you. did you mean what you said, sweet girl?”

“the tipper... honoredone89...”

“was me, yes,” he points to himself, smiling. it takes a little while for realization to dawn and he thinks you're too sweet. god, after he finishes breaking in your cunt, he wants to protect you from men like him for the rest of his life. only after, though. “expecting someone uglier?”

where you should feel mortification, you feel sticky and full of attraction for the older man in front of you. how many times did you fuck yourself on two fingers while watching couples on cam, imagining gojo was there and pressing your legs to your chest while he fucked the inexperience right out of you? how many times did you wish that snarky regular on your streams was actually him?

“g-gojo?” you call softly, peeking up at him through thick fans of lashes. twiddling your fingers together in a gesture so fucking cute, it makes his stomach churn. “can i ask you something?“

“hmm? go ahead.”

“how many virgins have you fucked?”

“why? you wanna be my one and only?” he teases, a mocking grin set on his lips. “you're really a virgin... too sweet.”

“i didn't say that! i.. it's the reason i started streaming. to learn more! it’s an experiment because i don't know how to make someone else feel good.” you're babbling, the words rushing out too quickly as you fidget and grip the hem of your robe, looking down to avoid his eyes. “will you teach me?”

“if i teach you, don’t think i’ll go easy on you,” his grin is wicked before he reaches down to ruffle your hair, as if you’re a precious little gem to him. “it’s nothing to be ashamed of, sweetness. it just means i’ll really have to put my back into it!”

putting his back into it means fucking you absolutely dumb, but you don't need to know that yet.

the way he looks at you is an awakening. with a little burst of confidence, you make your own decision; burying your fingers into the collar of his jacket, bringing him down for your first kiss. it's a little awkward with the stick of lollipop in his mouth and your inexperience, teeth and stiff lips until he takes the lead. his lips feel like clouds and you want them everywhere, want to kiss him forever. sink his soft groans into your skin, keep the taste of candy flavored spit on your tongue for the rest of your days as he licks into your mouth, coaxing feelings out of you you've never felt before; kissing you into dizziness.

“please,” you pull away, eyes begging— he only needs to be told once.

he takes it in stride, smirking around the stick of lollipop. he draws his hand down, fingers sliding under your bralette to toy with the doughy skin of your breast, rolling a nipple between two pads until the bud pebbles under his touch.

then his path switches, traveling lower and you know exactly where his hand is going. heart fluttering wildly, you whine and nervously press closer to him, hiding your face against the front of his jacket.

but you weren't stopping him, you didn't want to. curiosity coaxes your desire for gojo satoru out of its shell. the entire reason you started exploring the world of porn and cam shows, frustration and curiosity. most women your age had bloomed and blossomed. they were experienced while you felt left behind. never been taken on a date, never been kissed, never been fucked.

a clean slate for the taking.

“i wonder why you're so pretty, hm? been torturing me for months, sweet thing,” gojo nudges your feet apart, tongue pushing out the lollipop for one last suck, his lips star candy pink. making you want to kiss him again. “want to taste you instead.”

“you mean...”

“don't worry, i'll take good care of you,” he gently plucks your hands from his jacket, lowering his lithe body to the floor in a fluid motion. he props one of your thighs over his shoulder, shamelessly spreading your pussy open for him.

cheeks heated, the sight of gojo staring between your legs with a ravenous glint in his eye is too much. your hands fly over your eyes, but he's not having it; reaching up to snatch them down. “good girls keep their eyes open, don't they? how will you learn?”

he hasn't even touched you and yet, lust buzzes an ache between your hips that is driving you crazy.

“good girls deserve to know what it looks like, what it feels like to have me right here,” he continues and leans in to press a trail of kisses to your inner thigh. nips and marks along the fleshiest parts, chuckling at your quiet yips. he slides a thumb between your folds, splitting them to play with your clit. you feel like falling as he circles between your thighs, a gasp hiccupping at the base of your throat before you choke it off.

“g-gojo-”

he builds the anticipation. getting you used to the motion of something familiar before he opens your pussy for business— the sweetest dessert all for him before the main course. “so what do you think? gonna let me taste how sweet this pussy is, angel?”

“what if you don't like the taste?” you hesitate, hand slipping into the milky clouds of his hair. “i-i heard that happens.”

“trying to keep it all to yourself?” he teases, eyes shining as he crooks a smile at you. he indulges you with another feathery kiss to your thigh, his hand on your hip, caressing the skin lightly. “there's no way i won't like the taste of you. not when i have this-”

before you know it, he presses something warm and sticky to your clit, replacing his finger. when you realize just what it is, you whimper loudly.

“oh, oh god. y-you're supposed to use your fingers-”you point out halfheartedly. gojo drags the sugary ball of the lollipop against your clit in tantalizing swirls, smearing the sticky cherry syrup across your pussy and mixing it with your own juices.

“i'll clean up after myself, sweet thing,” he reassures, nose pressed to the soft curls at your mound, breathing in your heady scent before he tips his head forward to taste you. this is his favorite part- the possessive feeling in his chest once a virgin is on his tongue, knowing he's the first one to look up and see heaven above him. to hear your soft whimpers and feel the unsure tremble of your thighs.

“how does it feel? you like it?” he asks, kissing your clit with a gentle suck that tightens the muscles in your tummy. he licks against you with skill, tongue a warm wetness over your clit. the feeling gojo pulls from you is all new, butterflies between your hipbones as your cunt flutters around emptiness.

“i think i like it, sir. i-it's so-” you whine, the honorific a slip up. ashamed to talk filth to a man you're assigned to bring oversweetened coffee to every morning. it's so easy talking to the men behind your camera. they're blank faces that pay for a performance and to be soaked in the right words. in person, in front of the man who brings you alive, your tongue is tied up in the heat he licks into your throbbing pussy.

“sir, huh?” you can feel his grin spread along your lower lips, his chuckle vibrating against your skin. he stiffens his tongue for a harder lick, quick flits that bathes your clit in bubbly spit, burning pleasure into your nerves that drives you to tears.

gojo's fingers press bruises into your squishy thighs, locking you in his strong hold. he trails the syrupy sphere of the sucker down to your drooling little hole, nudging until he slowly works the candy up into your pussy at the same time he sucks your clit back into his mouth.

you choke out a wet sob, your hands pushing at his shoulders. squirming and trembling, plush walls clamping down around the hard ball of the lollipop with a wince as he fucks it in slow, his eyes focused on the way your walls slurps it inside.

nothing could have prepared you for gojo satoru fucking you with a piece of candy.

“bet your fans would love to see this,” he muses, releasing your puffy clit with a shameful pop, a trail of spit and slick connecting you to the sorcerer's chin. “you can barely handle a piece of candy. look at this cute little pussy struggling to take it.”

he can't hide his arousal when you taste this good, smacking and slurping like his last meal on earth is between your legs. you release a frustrated whine when he removes the candy, but he appeases you with his tongue— dragging the pink muscle down to curl it into your pussy, the squishy feeling of it making you squeak and grip the edge of the counter behind you.

gojo mumbles a deep groan, tastes so fucking sweet, curling his tongue in and out of you languidly, your squeaks tapering off into breathy pants. he's running out of patience, your noises shooting straight to his leaking cock, but he's determined not to rush. he wants to savor your first time. savor the sweet taste of sugar combined with the earthy flavor of you.

he has to make it good so you remember him after you inevitably come to your senses and make him leave before he breaks your heart.

his palm moves up and lands on your breast, squeezing too hard but you whine for the twinge of pain, placing your hands over his larger one. you hold him like a lifeline as he makes good on his promise of cleaning you all up— drinking down every little drop of candy coated slick until you run dry, until the wet slide against your folds is because of his spit.

“i-i'm-” the stretch of his tongue is so good, your eyelashes wet as you chase the sensation. second orgasm on the brink with his skilled mouth licking and suckling over sensitive nerves. you could end it there, cum on his tongue and let him tuck you into bed after, but you've had enough of not knowing what it feels like to be manhandled down onto a bed, kissed slow, and fucked open by his cock.

you want it to be him and no one else.

“you close?” he reels back, lapping at the entrance to your heat, a tease that makes you cry out. blues flit up to look at you, gaze soft and patient even though his desperation to be inside you has him fraying at the seams. when you nod at him, pushing your hips forward, begging, he grins. “didn't you already cum tonight? who taught you to be so greedy, hmm?”

“i-i'm s-”

“you think you can hold it for me? no, i know you can. hold it for me baby. don't cum.”

“n-no, don't! wanna cum, please please- wanna cum so bad!” but he's not hearing it. he pinches your clit meanly until the twinge of pain clouds over your orgasm, laughing lightly as you drive your fist into his shoulder in frustration, a hit that doesn't hurt him one bit.

he pats your mound with a smile but before he stands to his full height, he ghosts his sticky lips over your ankle as he sets your foot to the floor, teeth grazing the anklet you're wearing. a tender kiss that has no business making your heart flutter like that when he's so mean.

“i'll make sure of it, but right now i need you to save it for me, pretty princess. i promise it'll be so much better if you cum around my cock.” the sorcerer whispers his filth to your ear, leaving wet kisses along the shell. is it normal for your knees to be so weak? “ain't that what you wanted earlier? want something to fill your pussy up, don't you?”

you're so shivery that you hold onto gojo like your life depends on it. feeling wet and used between your legs already.

somehow, you know that gojo satoru is above what you're able to handle. he's a grown man with years of fucking under his belt and you're an apprentice parading as a camgirl who just had your first kiss. but really, it hardly matters when you want him in too many ways to care anymore.

“i want it, want it so bad, please!” you chant, prepared to get on your knees and beg for it while this otherworldly attractive man grins down at you. you feel like sobbing when he listens, circling his arms under your thighs to lift you effortlessly. legs cling to his waist as he walks the few paces it takes to reach your bed, splaying you out amongst the pillows.

“then i'll give it to you, sweet thing. but first, i think you'd be more comfortable in a familiar setting, hmm?”

he wants to film your first time.

it's filthy and you should refuse, but it's also exactly what you daydreamed of. all those nights honoredone89 watched your streams, you wished he was actually there. in front of the camera with you, back to his chest while he stretched you wide on three fingers and claimed you as his for all of your viewers to see.

you're too shy to actually let your fans watch you be fucked by someone else, but you let him hit record on your laptop, the pink camera at the edge of your bed recording a private show for your eyes only, but giving you the illusion of a livestream nonetheless. “don't pay attention to the camera until i tell you to, okay? eyes on me.”

after a small nod from you, he makes quick work of his uniform. unbuttoning his jacket to reveal broad planes of smooth ivory skin. shoving his slacks down, no underwear like you expected so his dick springs out, slapping warmth against your thigh.

it's easy to forget you're being filmed when you’re too busy gaping at him undressing. washboard abs taper off into a carved adonis belt dusted with moonlight hair. and with the eyes of a curious virgin, your gaze peeks down to his cock and it makes your tastebuds water. a perfect balance of long and girthy, the smooth tip blushing pretty and pink.

“can i touch it?” your dewy lashes flutter as you reach forward, wanting to know what the weight feels like in your hand. wanting to brush your fingers over the blue veins, maybe even dip your head down to lap up the pearly precum drooling from the head.

“nuh-uh, but you can feel it,” he sucks his teeth in reprimand, catching your hand and brushing an affectionate kiss across your fingertips. “alright, sweetheart. how do you want it?”

“i-i always imagined i'd be on my stomach,” you whisper, wanting to sink into your covers after voicing such a thing. a combination of your favorite fantasy position and wanting to hide your face from the camera.

“as you wish.”

he obliges, gripping your waist and rolling you over for him, front pressed flat into the pillowy mattress. though your hips are caged in by gojo's strong thighs, you wriggle your legs back and forth, cutely tapping his lower back with your toes.

“i-i hear it's better like this.” you mumble into the pillow under your cheek, just to get rid of the silence in the air.

he only laughs at your small talk, kissing your shoulder with care. “oh, sweet girl. i'll show you how much better it is.”

nerves flutter in your tummy at that, but you trust him more than anything— more than the women who warned you not to harbor a crush on him. he straddles your thighs, reaching into the pocket of his discarded slacks.

you hear the crinkling of a foil packet being ripped, all the air whistling from your lungs in a shaky breath as you twist around, embarrassed; catching him about to roll a condom over his cock. “w-wait-”

“cold feet?”

“no,” god, no. “i- please, you don't have to wear one of those.”

“yeah?” gojo snorts with a growing smile, but he shrugs and tosses the protection aside, caution to the wind and no further questions on it. blood rushes to his head quick now, dizzy as he draws your hips up a little until your ass bumps against his stomach. you're so easy to move, so cute and weak, like feathers under him.

his patience was lost long ago, but he's a team player. he gathers the seat of your ass against his palms, a soft peach that jiggles when he squeezes and kneads to the song of your whines, his eyes hypnotized by the jeweled plug. “you've had this in for so long, princess.” he draws a long finger down the line of your ass, tugging at the plug gently to see your hole spread. the remnants of the lube you used makes it an easy slide as he pulls it out. tossing it to the sheets.

he coos when you squirm away from him with a soft cry, hurts satoru, and he fucking loves the sound of his given name on your tongue. his thumb rubs over the puckered entrance to soothe the soreness. it would be so easy to sink his finger in, cock up next, but he'll save that for another night. “sorry, princess, i know. i'm just making room. i don't think you're ready to take both yet.. let me make it up to you.”

gojo keeps your cheeks spread, slotting his cock in the tight space between your plump thighs. he pushes the thick cockhead through your sopping folds. you can feel the milky pearls of precum smearing along your thighs and cunt with his thrusts, a wet slide right against your heat but it's not enough. “p-please-”

“f-fuck, sweetheart. how are you gonna fit me inside you? look at this.”

he's mean for teasing a virgin so much, but he can't help himself. he glances up at the recording laptop; the cam feed showing him your face pressed into the pillows, writhing all over your pretty sheets. fuck, you look so good. he's used to breaking in the starstruck beauties who flock to him, but he plays favorites now— fearing that once he truly has you, you’ll never let go of his heart, his cock.

“i don't- oh god- i don't know, but i want to try, sir,”you breathe out through your whines, the honorific only baiting him into getting your way, a true performer. “p-please let me try!”

“such a good girl, even when your fans aren't watching. if you want it, take it then. put it in for me,” he almost pleads, wanting to see that you want this just as much and you fucking do. too teased out to feel the jitters fluttering in your heart. you reach behind you, hand fumbling to wrap around his girth. skin feverish after hearing his heavy intake of breath— oh, you did that to him. satoru ducks his head to grip your chin and kiss all over your face, heated presses of his lips reserved for a lover. a distraction for you both as you guide his cockhead to nudge at the entrance of your pretty virgin cunt—

your eyes mist over, crystalline tears clinging to your lashes; losing focus after his hips sink forward. hiding your face in the sheets again, you muffle the depraved whimpers you hiccup out as gojo's cock forces your walls to spread open just for him. white heat slicking your body with sweat as you squirm under him on the bed. he's so fucking long, and he chuckles when you slide a hand down to your stomach to make sure you can't feel him there, too. he feeds you his cock slow so you feel every inch of him, bullying a spot to sit right up against your womb.

“t-too big- oh m’ god, it's too big satoru!”

“you cryin' f' me, baby?” oh, he is aching. no room in the little space your pussy gives him. he struggles to breathe, hair sticking to his forehead as he fights for his composure. he wants to treat you tenderly, break you in the right way, but you're a hot brand around his cock, sucking him in so good it drives him wild.

“s-satoru-”

“you feel that? much better than your toys, isn't it?” he kneels, pinning one hand over your back to keep you in place. “you can take it, cutie. just ease up for me a little, i've got you.”

you try to relax, eyes shut and sheets bitten into your mouth. you've never felt anything like it— the intrusion of his cock builds a pressure that none of your toys could've prepared you for. an overwhelmingly tight fit, you feel too full, in over your head. pussy staining his cock with frothy slick as he draws his hips back for an experimental thrust, an emptiness that makes you whine loudly for him to fill you up again.

“talk to me, tell me how it feels, angel.”

“o-oh- i don't... i don't know-” you gasp, leaning up on your elbows, a sensual dip in your back, the way you've seen the girls on the nsfw accounts you follow pose. the webcam films your fucked out expression and you're too cock hungry to care about it now, watching it shamelessly on the screen of your laptop.

“can't talk?” gojo taunts, digging his nails into the skin of your ass as he levels his weight into his hips and fucks forward. heavy, deep snaps that furrows your brow cutely, determined as you try your best to take him like you imagine the experienced women who are used to the oppressive force of his cock do.

“want me to slow down?” he asks softly, a little worried. after all, it wouldn't be the first time his dick knocked someone out. but you shake your head rapidly and he cackles, pairing that insane sound with deeper thrusts, sharp hipbones rutting against the back of your ass as he bottoms out again— too deep.

“wan' see your face, please 'toru, please,” you blubber into the sheets, but his keen hearing picks it up anyway. stopping is the hardest thing ever, but he pulls out; pushes you onto your back with a hiss.

“can't believe you wanna watch me break in this cute little pussy. what changed?” he goads, but he doesn't wait for your answer. “you know what to do.”

shyly, you wriggle down the bed until your hips are flush against his, reaching between the sweaty shadow of your bodies to handle his damp cock again. the stretch is no easier to take the second time, but you know what it feels like. pining for the slight twinge, the hot burn as he spreads sweet fire through your nerves. the weight of his cock fucking your pussy open in slow, teasing thrusts that leaves you whining.

“don't go easy on me-”

satoru listens instantaneously, pounding you roughly as he nips and marks your sweaty skin as his, little love bites along your neck you'll have to cover in the morning. something he never does, but call him attached to you now. “that's all you needed, ain't it? you don't want those sick fucks watching you. just wanted me to make a mess of this pretty pussy.”

“y-yes!” you cry against his shoulder and he buries his nose against the pulse point at your neck, inhaling sweet gulps of sex and perfume. a grunt kicks out of his chest as he leaves you, leaning back on his heels to fuck harder, your fingers flying to his forearms as he grips your waist, tugging you forward onto his cock to meet his thrusts.

you become a victim to his skilled fucking, to the harsh slap of his hips that a virgin has no business taking. thighs trembling up a storm, desperately trying to close as his cockhead drags along your gummy walls on the quick pull out, fucking your nerves to a red glow.

“you're so good for me, best girl. so good. keep these legs nice and spread for me so i can fuck this pussy the way she deserves.”

neither of you pay attention to the blinking red light of your webcam, too lost in the throes of good fucking. satoru can't keep his eyes off of you as you wriggle desperately underneath him. you're a mess; lips swollen and slicked with spit from your lolling tongue, hair splayed out all over your sanrio pillows while you stare up at him through teary, lidded eyes with the most fucked out look of adoration for the man pounding you, he almost feels guilty.

“s'toru.. satoru- w-will i get to cum again? it feels so- but i can't-”

he loses his final thread of sanity at your little pants and whines of his name. “some girls need it right here, d... don't they, sweet girl?” he says, stuttering when your pussy clenches him in on a good stroke. slick squelches out of you, staining your favorite sheets in a gooey puddle. it's how he knows his cock is fucking you at the right angle, brushed up against that precious spot nestled along your walls. your back arches high off the sheets when he hits it, but a big palm at your belly presses you down, refusing to let you run.

“it feels better right here, too,” he tells you, his hand shifting down. drawing sticky shapes of his initials under the hood of your sore, puffy clit— and you've touched yourself enough times to know what the feeling means. the pooling of sweet heat in your belly, the giddy waves of dopamine swirling in your nerves as a man throws you into your peak for the first time. “feel it yet? yeah you do. cum for me like a good fucking girl, make a mess of my cock like it's yours, pretty girl. give it to me.”

you're sobbing for him, clinging to him as if he can protect you from the force of your own orgasm. tears welling up in your big eyes as the knot in your tummy bursts so suddenly and you cum, walls fluttering around satoru's cock so tight it pains him to thrust through it. no thought in your pretty mind except the relentless pressure he fucks out of your body. overstimulation sets in too quick and you push at his stomach frantically as your juices splash onto the sheets, wetting all over his hand and bathing down the white trail of hair on his stomach. “i-it's too much, wait-”

“fucking.. fuck, princess- let me go or ‘m gonna cum inside you.. you're sucking me in so tight. f-fuck!” he is only seconds behind you, remembering at the last minute to draw back on his heels and pull his cock out of your weeping pussy. you're still shaking in the aftermath of the best orgasm you've ever had but he’s pinching your puffy lips between his pointer and thumb. it only takes a few rubs of his cock through your swollen folds before he whines low in his throat, grunting and tossing his head back as he spills thick ropes of opaque cum all over your pretty crotchless panties and ruined pussy.

“o-oh.. there's so much of it-” you marvel and when he opens his eyes again on the come down, hips kicking weakly now, he sees you reaching down to run your fingers through the cum he left between your thighs, pinching his sticky seed between your fingers curiously.

you're going to be the fucking death of him.

“yeah, that happens,” he chuckles with no breath in his lungs, no energy to tease you about it. he is too dignified to collapse on the bed with a softening dick, in need of a long ass nap, so he leans forward and pets the roots of your hair softly. “you need anything? besides a bath and your diary to give me raving reviews, of course.”

“i...” you start, sitting up and reaching for the closest thing that can cover you besides the stained sheets of your bed: gojo's uniform jacket. you drape it around your front, looking away to hide the vulnerability in your eyes. “can you stay until i fall asleep? you can leave after but.. i don't..”

don't be greedy, is what he would usually tell a woman asking him to sleepover after he's snatched her innocence up and fucked her into a limp. but with you, the sinking feeling in his chest, the months of pocketing your hidden smiles and shy flirtations to think about during his darkest hours, tells him only one thing: he wouldn't have left even if you asked him to.

“i'm not going anywhere.”

gojo experiences a first tonight, too. for the first time ever, he doesn't run.

instead, he stays. cleans you up with a warm towel and eases you into clean underwear, though you insist on wearing his jacket as pajamas. he even helps you change your soaked sheets ( with insufferable comments asking if he can keep them. ) you don't know what it means when a man stays after being your first, but your heart feels too warm and a little bit in lo—

“what's that sound?”

you're about to tuck into bed, ready to snuggle in safe and sound with gojo watching over you when his voice speaks up. now that your post-orgasmic haze has cleared a little, you hear it too. the quiet chime of the tip and chat bells ringing wildly from your still open laptop.

the camera at the end of your bed blinking lipstick red from its perch on the tripod.

like.boobs.97 chatted: that bastard is so lucky.

“oh... oh, no!” you squeal, scrambling to shut the laptop down, face burning with mortification. you should have checked, you should have checked. you have to help satoru with his emails in the morning, why did you trust him to click the right button?

you've been streaming to your viewers on the cam site the entire time.

“whoops,” is all gojo says, carefree and flippant as ever as he moves to stretch out across your bed like an oversized unbothered cat, drawing you against his body.

“so, you gonna introduce me as your new boyfriend or what?”

stream viewers: @atsumeii ┊ @bbyatsumu ┊@yuujispinkhair ┊@danibby

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru fic #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru imagines

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totalswag · 4 months

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Drew Starkey and actress!reader are dating for a long time now, he's invited to be present at the premiere of the film where his girlfriend and Jacob Elordi are part of the cast. Drew gets kinda jealous of the chemistry between them, during the scenes of the film, the interviews, the fans who ship them...even he knows they're just a good working duo and he's a good guy...

(Also it's a bit similar to how reader felt between Drew and Odessa cause they're very close each other, except that with Jacob it's much more faithful than they are...)

Can you write this please 🙏

jealousy jealously - DREW STARKEY

authors note thank you for this request. please let me know what you think of it. i haven't written something like this before and it was cool to write for sure. i hope you like what i wrote and it was what you hoped. sorry it took awhile for me to upload this, i had the request saved in my docs and finally got to it. feed back is always appreciated <3

requests are open

summary you are staring in a movie alongside jacob elordi. your boyfriend of two years, drew starkey, gets a little jealous of the chemistry between jacob and you even though he knows you two are good working partners.

warnings jealousy, kissing, acting, mentions of sex

Tonight is the red carpet premiere of your new movie, which will be released in theaters all around the world tomorrow. You are one of the main characters in the movie, and your co-star, Jacob Eldori, another main character and love interest.

You can't wait till tonight since the movie has been the talk of the town for months. The actors and fans are thrilled that the film will be released tomorrow. You and the cast are seeing it tonight, and we can't wait to see how it turns out.

Everyone is welcome to bring a guest. Drew Starkey, your two-year boyfriend, will be your plus one for the premiere. He is also an actor, well known for his role as Rafe Cameron in the Netflix series Outer Banks. He was so happy when you invited him.

The outfit you have on tonight is a lovely long black dress that falls to your feet and is complemented by black high heels with sparkle. Your makeup artist and you settled on a more natural look that will make your eyes stand out more. The hair is curled.

"I'm so proud of you, baby," Drew said, holding your hand and lightly squeezing it as you two came to a complete stop in the SUV.

Your heart melted hearing those words, “thank you bubs, I love you so much,” smiling up at him.

“I love you more though,” he playfully argues back, grinning.

The entire cast was already getting their pictures taken on the red carpet along with other well-known celebrities. You can tell how crowded it is outside just by gazing out the window.

When you first went onto the carpet, you took a few solo photos before moving on to photos with Drew. The paparazzi's lights flashed back and forth, calling your name and uttering weird things in order to get you to turn in their direction.

The film's director and producer requested everyone to gather for a group photo for the paparazzi. Seeing everyone was the icing on the cake for you. Promoting the movie with them was a blast. It's a joy to be able to collaborate with such talented actors too.

Jacob approached you when you were talking with your manager, Britney, about giving a couple of interviews, engaging with fans, taking a group cast photo, and then stepping into the venue. Drew was next to you, his right hand on your lower back, but drew you closer when Jacob approached.

Drew's body tenseens as he holds you tight. You place your hand on his free hand, gently stroking it with your thumb to reassure him. The only reason he acts this way is because he sees how Jacob looks at you when he knows you are with Drew.

“You are okay, don’t worry” you whispered so only Drew can hear.

“You have nothing to worry about baby,”

Drew feels the same way about Jacob as you did about Drew and Odessa when they began filming Helrasier. The opening scene of the movie made you uneasy since your partner was having sex with someone who wasn't you, but it wasn't real, just acting. Reading how many fans shipped them when they found out Drew and you were together.

You understand why he’s feeling this way. It’s not a good feeling to feel. Both of you have been in the acting business for a few years now and know everything’s professional.

Jacob knows his boundaries and only sees you as a friend.

As you saw the two tall guys in front of you shake hands, Jacob was asking about how things were going in Outer Banks season four filming. Drew will keep things professional no matter what, and he will keep his sentiments within you.

Jacob leaned in for an embrace, "have you spoken to any interviews yet?" he asks, pointing back with his thumb. "No, not yet, but will be soon, you?" you respond.

"No, not yet, but I heard they're asking some good questions and some that are questionable," he says hesitantly when questioned about the specific questions that may be asked.

You three had a lovely talk until Britney informed you that it was time for the interviews. You spoke with five different interviewers, and during those interviews, some of them questioned Jacobs and your friendship because the chemistry between you two is strong, talked about the film and how excited you are for everyone to see it, what it's like working with the cast, and, of course, Drew.

"One question I have to ask because fans have been begging me to specifically mention this to you," the interviewer laughs, catching you off guard by the first part of her sentence, "will you be appearing on your boyfriend's Netflix series, Outer Banks?" You couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Ahh, you are not the first person to ask me this question today," you add, adjusting your hair, "I guess you would have to wait and see if I’m on the show or not this upcoming season” shrugging your shoulders with a grin.

Everyone in the theater room was waiting for the movie to begin. The director stood next to the screen giving a small speech about the movie. Drew sat next to you, his left hand resting on your thigh and gently rubbing it with his thumb.

"Before the movie begins, I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you and everything you have accomplished to get to where you are now, baby." Drew whispers in your ear, then kisses your cheek a few times.

You felt your face get red from his compliment. Drew told you multiple times this week how proud he is of you. Both of you have been so supportive of each other since before you got in a relationship.

“I love you bubs” you smile before kissing his lips.

When the lights dimmed down everyone cheered with excitement.

When you landed the part and read the script, you told Drew about the two parts in the movie where your character and Jacobs' character have sex. As a result, he was already prepared for these scenes in the film.

The movie has been great, everything you thought. You are so proud of your hard work and everyone else’s hard work that was put into this movie. Once the lights turned on, everyone around started cheering and clapping.

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#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey x you #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x oc #drew starkey x actress!reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagines

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lancermylove · 2 months

Text

Proposal (HC)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: Lucifer, Mammon, Diavolo, Barbatos with gn!Reader

Warning: None

Prompt: He proposes to you.

A/N: Sorry for only doing four! 🙏

———————————————

Lucifer spent weeks meticulously planning the perfect proposal for you, taking into account your personality, preferences, and the significance of the moment.

Ultimately, he arranged a private dinner in the garden of Diavolo's castle under the starlit sky.

Before the main event, Lucifer took you on a stroll through the lavish garden, walking hand in hand with you. He reminisced about your journey together and expressed his deep affection and gratitude for your presence in his life. If you hadn't been there, his relationship with his brothers would still be broken. And even if Lucifer didn't tell you, he was genuinely thankful for everything you did for him.

As the two of you reached a secluded spot near the banks of the lake, Lucifer stopped and firmly held onto your hand. His gaze softened as he spoke from the bottom of his heart. "I cannot fathom a life without your presence, nor do I wish to imagine it. You have changed me in a way I would not have thought. You have brought light and warmth into my barren heart. Hence..."

He brought out a beautifully crafted jewelry box containing a ring with your favorite gemstone before getting down on one knee. "Would you do me the honors of protecting and loving you?"

The moment you said yes, he delicately slid the ring onto your finger and stood up to give you a long, passionate kiss.

It was the happiest moment in his life thus far, and he hoped to create more happy memories and moments with you.

Despite his usual bravado, Mammon was secretly nervous about proposing to you, and while he wasn't the type to care for perfection, he wanted that moment to be perfect.

Mammon invited you to a casual outing as he wanted only the two of you to be present. The last thing the demon wanted was for his brothers to cause trouble or interfere in any way.

He took you on a long drive, eventually stopping at a secluded meadow under the pretense of a picnic. You thought it was a bit odd for him to have a picnic basket because you never considered him to be a picnic-going demon. But between your favorite snacks and the beauty of meadows, you weren't complaining.

Throughout the picnic, Mammon's nervous energy was palpable as he fidgeted with the ring box hidden in his pocket, stealing glances at you. He knew you picked up on his nervousness but was thankful you didn't point it out blatantly.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the meadow, Mammon took a deep breath and mustered up enough courage to speak from his heart. "Hey, (y/n). I've been thinkin'...a lot. Y'know I love ya, yeah? Look, I ain't good with my words, but since ya came into my life, things have been different, y'know? What I'm tryin' to say is I don't wanna live with ya by my side. I wanna see your face every morning, first thing when I wake up. I wanna hold ya close to me and not let go. You've made me a happy demon. I know I ain't perfect, but...I promise to be the best partner I can be for ya..."

With trembling hands, Mammon took out the ring box and got down on one knee. His eyes were filled with nervousness, but his love for you overpowered his gaze. "So...what do ya say? Wanna marry me?"

As soon as you say yes, Mammon hopped up and gave you his tightest embrace. Then, he started to shower your face with kisses and completely forgot to put the ring on your finger.

Diavolo planned an extravagant proposal fit for royalty, wanting to sweep you off your feet with a grand gesture and let the beings in Devildom know you were taken.

He arranged for a formal ball at the Devildom palace, inviting everyone he could think of under the guise of a general celebration.

Throughout the evening, Diavolo made sure you were treated like royalty, from your attire to showering you with attention and complimenting you left and right.

As the night progressed, Diavolo discreetly signaled for the music to change and took your hand, leading you to the center of the ballroom, where a spotlight illuminated you and him.

If you showed the slightest hint of discomfort in the spotlight, he planned to apologize later. However, Diavolo sank to one knee, producing a velvet-lined box containing a stunning ring fit for his significant other.

With unwavering confidence and charm, Diavolo began to speak. "My dearest, you have brought much joy to us. You have shown perseverance in the face of challenges, compassion in times of need, and confidence in your feats. I cannot think of a better fit for myself and Devildom than you. Would you do the honors of marrying me and ruling Devildom by my side?"

Diavolo presented the ring to you, his eyes sparkling with excitement and anticipation as he awaited your answer. When you said yes, the crowd erupted into applause and cheers. The prince slid the ring on your finger before picking you up by your waist and spinning you around.

While Diavolo was a cheerful man, the smile he had on his lips was far brighter than one anyone had seen.

Barbatos invited you to dinner at the castle. Initially, you thought Diavolo was the one who asked you through Barbatos, but when you reached the kitchen, you noticed him making your favorite dishes from scratch.

You watched him gracefully move around around the kitchen, effortlessly preparing the ingredients and cooking with precision.

As he cooked, Barbatos engaged in light conversation, asking about your day, if the brothers did anything unusual today, and if you had anything planned for the upcoming days. He didn't give hints about his plan until he was almost done cooking.

Barbatos' questions changed from casual inquiries to questions about your future plans, your goals, aspirations, and what you hoped to achieve. You were confused about why he was curious about your future but decided to shrug it off. However, the conversation left you very curious.

"I love you, (y/n)." He casually said as he passed by you, and just as casually, you responded to him. "I love you too." Not that you realized it then, but Barbatos had a victorious smile on his lips, which he hid from you.

With the meal ready, Barbatos led you to a table with candles and flowers for a candlelight dinner. Through dinner, he continued the casual conversation until the end. When you began to eat dessert, Barbatos watched you with a smile warmer than his usual one.

His question had no frills, no long speech, and got straight to the point. "(Y/n), since you love me as well, would you do me the honor of becoming my significant other?"

With a warm smile, Barbatos presented you with a small, beautifully wrapped box containing the ring. You stared at him blankly with the dessert fork still in your mouth. Then, it dawned on Barbatos that he had confessed his feelings for you, and you confessed in return. He watched you with an amused smirk, enjoying the reel of expressions sweeping across your face.

"I shall take that as an affirmation." Without waiting for you to say yes, he slid the ring on your finger. But to add a cherry on top, he rubbed his thumb across the corner of your lip, wiping some icing. Bringing his thumb to his lips, he licked it off and smirked at you. "Scrumptuous."

———————————————

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killuaisaprincess · 2 years

Photo

SPECIAL DAY SPECIAL DAY 👏🥳

#personal #TWO YEARS SINCE I GOT BACK INTO THIS FANDOM BUT MOSTLY JUST MY BABEY IM HERE FOR MY BABEY AND GK #I didn’t write anything till sept #ember my first real ever fic I only ever RP wrote before that point really and! 😤👏#LOOK #ITS SO MUCH BETTER NOW #As I kid I didn’t have the option to curate shit #even if I did I didn’t know how I #literally was G’s and Ki’s age of 14 when the show stopped airing the 2011 ver and #the reason I just jumped shark is well I can’t recall for sure hyperfixations don’t last forever true true but 😤#I WANNA STAY LONG AS I CAN #And even if it ends I’ll be back cuz I came back again to my babey 🥺 but anyway it was hard seeing all this kg and not any content I wanted #so I stopped trying and it was hard okay it hurts me now to watch how chars in the show treat Ki I was like I was like infuriated and done #NAH I WAS DONE WITH THE WHOLE CAST I WANTED KI TO HAVE BETTER I WAS DONE WITH ONLY FINDING KG AND I WAS DONE #but I’m an adult now I know how to use this clunky internet and 😤#I don’t see any of it no main fandom no kg none of it and I probs have either a billion haters or no one knows who I am but I am ok 😤#I like my little corner 😤 nice and the content that I still want that doesn’t exist or has very little of #I AM MAKING IT WHEN I CAN SO 😤#I am og fan who was worried sick and waiting to see if Ki was ok for WAYYYYY TO MANY FUKIN EPSIODES BEFORE THEY SHOWED HE WAS IN CAA OK LIKE #MY HEART FUKIN STOPPED I WAS ABOUT TO DROP THE WHOLE SHIT #plus as a 14 year old I didn’t have a job sooo no crunchyroll sub I was waiting doublethe weeks cuz there was a star for new episodes for #premium I OMG #god ol days of ff net and having to take the chance on a fic and hating myself after cuz it’s all what I hate #Nowadays I can use a script to block authors stuff I don’t wanna see which I do 😤 getting there someday I wi #ill only see Gk or other random stuff on ao3 #Poor kid me didn’t even know of pixiv and GK EXISTS IN NON WEST FANDOM Still wish there was more but 🥺#even if I did miss some chances to curate man ff net does not have that shit and that’s what made me really throw in the towel on I’m never #gonna find stuff I wanna read #BUT NOW I CAN MAKE IT TEENAGE ME DIDNT KNOW OK I can make the food I wanna read but yes 😤 ID STILL SELL MY SOUL TO THE DEVIL FOR ART AND #FIC OF MY NICHES OK

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hyperactively-me · 8 months

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Can you imagine king ghost and princess are having a super intimate moment, like they about to kiss 💋 😘 😗 buuuuttt 🍑 just before it can happen someone calls ghost for urgent king things and bros dying inside because he has to leave 💔

The soft crackling of the fireplace filled the room, casting a warm, flickering light that danced across the room's rich tapestries and polished furniture. You and King Ghost had found a moment of solitude in the midst of the palace’s hectic schedule. The two of you were nestled together on a plush couch, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder as you both read a book. His arm rests on the back of the couch, his hand settled on your shoulder.

Simon's fingers lightly traced mindless shapes on your shoulder, and his warm breath tickled your ear as he spoke. “I can't believe the main character made such a reckless decision,” he remarked quietly, his voice filled with playful disbelief.

You chuckled softly, turning a page. “Well, you know how some characters can be. Always getting themselves into trouble.”

Simon licks his lips, his eyes flitting down to your neck as he responds, “Much like someone else I know.”

You couldn't help but smile at his teasing tone. “Are you comparing me to a fictional character?”

He chuckled, the deep sound rumbling in your ear. “Only in the best way, love. You’ve livened up the place with your personality since you’ve been here."

As you continued to read, Simon's hand began to slowly trail up and down your arm, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. His words and touch were a sweet distraction from the story, and you found yourself more focused on him than on the book.

Simon's voice grew softer, more quiet. “Y’know, I could think of a more interesting way to spend our afternoon than reading.”

You looked up at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh really? And what might that be?”

He leaned in, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours. “A kiss,” he whispered.

You freeze for a moment, your heart stopping in your chest. A kiss. From him.

A real kiss. You hadn’t admitted it out loud to him, but you had grown genuine feelings for him recently. After spending so much time together, getting to know each other, you grew affectionate of Simon. You enjoyed being around him, loved his personality, for who he was. You weren’t sure when you would be ready to admit it to him, but his words in the moment make you want to scream it from the top of your lungs, to dance and jump up and down with joy.

Before you could tell him, and before he could close the gap between you, the doors swung open with a thud, and in walked one of the royal advisors, his face etched with urgency.

“Your majesty,” the advisor said, trying to catch his breath, “I apologize for the intrusion, but there's an urgent matter that requires your immediate attention.”

Simon let out a sigh of frustration, his head hung low by your shoulder, an annoyed expression painted on his face. He slowly drags his head upwards, staring at you longingly. He stares at your lips for a moment, then looks into your eyes, the way they’re widened with anticipation. Fuck.

He looks at you apologetically. “I'm afraid I have to go, love. Duty calls.”

You sighed, but a small smile played on your lips as you gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Go on, they need you.”

Simon rose from the couch, reluctantly leaving your embrace. “I promise I'll make it up to you later,” he said, determination in his eyes.

You nodded, knowing that duty often came first. “I'll hold you to that.”

As Simon made his way to the door, you watched him with a mixture of affection and longing. Despite the interruption, the moment you had shared on the couch had only made you more anxious to tell him. And you were going to hold him up to it.

#omg #so close #we're almost there guys PROMISE #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme

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forever-rogue · 7 months

Note

hello ❤️ i hope you're doing okay!

i have an idea that i'm not sure if you've written it before but here goes

reader has low self-esteem and self-confidence due to parents holding her on a tight leash (literally would isolate in a cave before wearing a dress, will always concede in an argument just to avoid being shouted at, maybe even obsessing over a skincare routine simply because her parents told her she'd never be pretty otherwise) and perhaps our lovely eddie or stevie could help her see her self-worth? 🥺

thank you for taking the time to read, and apologies if you've already written something similar 🙏

AN | Eddie would absolutely show you just how wonderful and loved you are! Enjoy 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3.7k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were meticulous.

Always polished and nicely put together. Never too loud but not completely shy either. Knew when to chime into conversation and what to add. You always seemed to be perfectly happy, despite the situation.

These were all things Eddie knew about you. And in a lot of ways those were all things he loved about you. But what he wanted even more was to see everything that you weren’t showing people. He wanted to know all of you, the real you. He knew you had to be in there somewhere - you wouldn’t have started dating him if you weren’t. He doubted someone truly so straight-laced would even cast a second glance at him.

But here you were, Eddie Munson’s girlfriend. To be fair, you didn’t go out and proclaim to the world that the two of you were dating…your family and co-workers and maybe even some so called friends probably wouldn’t have liked that. But nonetheless, you spent almost all of your time with Eddie.

And you loved him - you really did. There wasn’t anything that you could think of that you didn’t like about him. You might have appeared to be the polar opposite of him, but you were so much more alike than what appearances might suggest. And you knew that things were going to have to change at some point if you wanted this relationship to blossom and bloom to its full potential. Eddie would have to see the real you at some point.

You just hoped he would like what he saw.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey sugar,” you could hear Eddie sweetly calling out to you from the bedroom as you tried to keep yourself together in the bathroom. You’d been in there longer than what would be considered normal for simply brushing your teeth and washing your face. You’d started with those intentions but things quickly turned south when you realized you hadn’t brought several of the items you used for your skincare every night, “everything alright?”

The last ten minutes had been spent staring at your face in the mirror, trying to calm yourself. Surely one night of an incomplete skincare routine wouldn't completely destroy your skin, right?

“‘m alright,” you called back, voice small and broken. You knew that Eddie definitely wouldn’t buy that; you hoped he was distracted and wouldn’t notice. You swiped at your eyes and tried to stop the tears from spilling over, “be out in a moment.”

Before you could say anything else, there came a soft knock on the bathroom door. You inhaled sharply, mind going into a panic almost immediately, “can I come in, sweetheart?”

You wanted to say no, wanted to be harsh back so he might leave you alone and give you some space, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to do so. Not to Eddie - the sweet, loving, gentle soul that he was. You sniffled, using the sleeve of your (his) sweater to wipe away the tears that had run down your face before slowly opening the door.

When you faced Eddie, his face turned into a huge frown immediately. The worst part was that for a moment you thought that frown might have been directed at you. After opening and closing your mouth a few times and finding it impossible to say anything, you resorted to the only thing you could think of - throwing yourself into his arms and clinging onto him tightly.

“Shh,” he responded in kind, wrapping his arms around and pulling you into his body. He pressed kisses the side of your head, rubbing your back in gentle, soothing circles, “it’s okay - I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

You mumbled out a response, mixed in with your tears, that he didn’t quite catch - but that was okay. Right now all that mattered was that you were okay and that you knew that he was there for you.

After a few minutes of gently letting you cry into his shoulder, he pulled back and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “c’mon - let’s get you outta the bathroom.”

“Okay,” you let him scoop you up as he carried you the short distance to his bedroom. You set you down gently on the warm blanket, reaching up to rest his hand on your cheek before brushing aways your tears. He crouched down in front of you so he could look up at you, a small smile on his face, “sorry for being such a baby.”

“You’re my baby, but you’re not being a baby,” he rested his hands on your thighs, giving them a gentle and reassuring squeeze, “do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” you admitted softly, dropping your face as your voice almost cracked, “but I do at the same time. I just don’t want you to think I’m stupid or hate me.”

“I would never think you’re stupid or hate you,” he let out an incredulous chuckle, shocked that you would even think it would be possible for him to feel anything but love towards you. He reached up and put a finger under your chin, tilting your face up so he could look into your eyes, “that’s not possible. I love you, yeah? You can tell me anything, so long as you’re comfortable with it.”

“Yeah,” you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and pulled his hand to your lips so you could press a gentle kiss to his knuckles, “I know that. It’s just…hard. I’ve never had anyone like you in my life and I guess it’s taking longer to open up.”

“I’m not surprised you haven’t met someone like me,” he gestured to himself, causing you to giggle softly, “you can have all the time in the world. It’s not always easy for me either.”

“I just meant…someone like you - caring and loving and so open,” you slid off the bed so you could sit next to him, your knees gently knocking into his, “my life has never been like that. And I guess I just always hold everything in and then as soon as one thing goes wrong, I crack.”

“What happened? That caused you to-”

“Have a stupid meltdown?” you interrupted him but he just clicked his tongue to show that he didn’t agree with your assessment, “it’s so silly. Promise not to laugh?”

“Pinky promise,” he held out his hand and extended his pinky towards you. You couldn’t help but laugh at how silly he was being, but gently hooked your pinky around his.

“I forgot some of the stuff I use for my skincare every night,” you admitted softly, avoiding his big, brown eyes. You cleared your throat at his silence, before offering him a small smile, “and that just caused me to spiral and worry that I’ve somehow ruined my entire face and life. See, it sounds so stupid just saying that out loud.”

“Hey,” he gently nudged your knee with this, “it’s okay to feel that way, your feelings are valid.”

“Even if they’re ridiculous?” you felt another wave of emotion wash over you, but this time a small laugh bubbled up as well. Only Eddie could be so reassuring as you felt like the biggest fool in the world, “because they feel ridiculous.”

“They’re valid,” he insisted softly, “why do you think that happened? Your reaction.”

“Oh my love,” you let out a long breath as Eddie’s cheeks turned bubblegum pink from your endearment, “it’s a long story. I don’t want to bore you with it.”

“I’ve got all night,” he shrugged causally, a cheeky little wink thrown your way, “well, I’ve got all the time in the world for you.”

“Okay,” you whispered softly, “okay. Let’s just start with the beginning then, shall we?”

“Lay it all on me. I’m ready for it all,” you could have melted at his kindness and the love you felt flowing from him, “just remember one thing.”

“Which is…”

“I’ll love you always. Regardless of what you tell me.”

“Eddie,” you chewed on your lip as your shoulders shook with silent laughter, “what if I told you I was like a murderer or something?”

“I’d be shocked,” he pulled his hair into a bun at the top of his head, a few curls managing to escape as he hummed thoughtfully, “but also kind of here for it. Kinda sexy in a way.”

“Eddie!”

“But I know that’s not true,” he reached for your hands and gently pulled you forward so you’d crawl into his lap. You took the hint and eagerly crawled onto him, relaxing when you felt his arms wrap around your waist, “so tell me everything.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie had meant it when he’d said he had all the time in the world for you. The two of you stayed up until the early hours of the morning talking about everything that had been on your mind for so long, everything that weighed so heavily on you for years.

It all came out so easily and felt so good to finally tell someone. And, thank the stars, Eddie was the right person to listen and offer the right words that you needed to hear. It felt like he was one of the only people that understood you. You had been so worried that once he saw what you were really like, how your mind worked, that he would somehow not like you anymore.

But it was just the opposite - he fell even more in love with you. Which was a feat that he hadn’t thought was possible. But seeing more of your personality come out over the following days and weeks made him an absolute sucker for you.

And yet there was still more hanging on that you needed to change. And you knew that this was something that was going to either make or break some things, but you knew what needed to be done.

“Eddie?” you let yourself into the trailer, finding him in the small dining area, scribbling away in his notebook. He looked up at the sound of your voice, a smile tugging up the corners of his mouth.

“Hello sweetheart,” he set down his pen and closed the notebook before making his way over to you. He didn’t hesitate before taking your face in his hands and kissing you softly, but with so much meaning.

“Hi,” you were beaming up at him, already feeling yourself melting. He looked you up and down and couldn’t contain his smile; ever since your little heart to heart, he’d noticed that you’d started to dress a little differently - more yourself. You finally felt more free to be yourself, to let your imperfections shine through. You had never imagined that it would feel so good and liberating, “I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything.”

“I want you to meet my parents,” his eyes widened as he opened and closed his mouth a few times. He was definitely not expecting you to ask that of him. Not that he didn’t want or wouldn’t do it - he would of course. Eddie was just sure that you’d never even want him to meet them, or vice versa. His silent response caused you to swallow thickly as you shook your head, “never mind - it’s silly.”

“No, sweetheart, stop,” he gently put his hands on your shoulders with a gentle squeeze to try and get you to relax, “I’m just shocked is all. I didn’t think you’d ever want me to meet them. Are you sure you want to do that?”

“I know it seems a bit…odd,” your lips pulled into a sheepish grin that Eddie really wanted to kiss. He refrained and decided that he would do it soon enough, “but I’ve been thinking a lot about it and it seems like the perfect time to do it. If not now, then when?”

“That’s a big step,” he couldn’t put into words how proud he was of you. The steps you had been making lately were leaps and bounds above where you had been. He might have fallen just a little more in love with you then and there, “I like it. Look at you go, sweetheart. Nothing can stop you now.”

“Well, I do have you to thank for that too,” you put your hand on his chest and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “couldn’t have done it without you, love. So, what do you think? Will you consider it?”

“I will more than consider it,” he wrapped his arms around your waist before picking you up and spinning you around until you were breathless from giggles. When he set you back down, you almost stumbled into him. You really loved him, “I’ll do it. Just name the time and place.”

“How about Friday night at seven?” you looked at him expectantly, hoping he wouldn’t back out simply from the fact that you had already set a date. He leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours before nodding gently and brushing his nose against yours, “I love you.”

“I love you,” shivers ran up and down his spine as goosebumps erupted all over his skin. He would never get tired from hearing you say that, “I’ll be there and be on my best behavior.”

“Don’t put on any airs, Eddie,” you whispered, “just be yourself.”

“As long as you’re yourself too,” you closed your eyes and exhaled slowly, knowing it would be difficult. It was going to be hard to break a lifetime of being a certain way around your parents and allowing them to see the real you. But you wanted this, you had to do this.

“I will,” you promised, “I will.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“It’s going to be okay,” you had rung the bell at your parents house, waiting for them to answer and tightly clutching onto Eddie’s hand. You made a small sound in the back of your throat that sounded somewhere between a groan and cry, “I’ve got you. And if you want to leave whenever, we will. We don’t have to stay.”

“I know,” you agreed. After a few moments of tense silence, you heard footsteps coming towards the door. It slowly opened and you suddenly felt like your heart was going to explode. Suddenly your mother was there, staring down at the two of you. Fuck. You cleared your throat, "h-hi mom."

"Darling," she looked you over before shifting her gaze to your boyfriend. You could see her face falling as she studied him, clearly horrified that this was your choice was of partner. She tried to tone down her sneer but it was no use, "and just who is this?"

"This is Eddie. My boyfriend," you had no hesitation and you could practically see the gears turning in her head, "we've been together for a whole so I wanted you to meet him."

"Edward," she didn't bother to extend her hand or give him a hug (not that you expected that in the slightest). You almost laughed at her, "a pleasure…I'm sure."

"It's just Eddie, ma'am," he offered her a charming smile that she didn't return, "thank you for having me."

She remained silent as she turned to head inside. It was typical behavior and you shouldn't have been surprised. Eddie squeezed your hand as you stepped inside. He stole a few glimpses of the house, trying to see if there were any traces of you. But all he could see were tidy spaces that felt cold and impersonal. He had a feeling that this was what he would find.

"Dinner is just ready," your mother stepped into the kitchen to finish things up as the two of you went into the dining room. Your father was already sitting at the table, the paper held up in front of him as he skimmed the day's news.

"Hello," you held up your hand awkwardly, trying to get his attention. With a grumble he set the paper down and looked up to find you standing there awkwardly, "hello father."

"Who is this?" So much for the formalities, right? You didn't bother to hide your eye roll this time.

"This is my boyfriend Eddie," you gestured between the two of them, "Eddie, this is my father."

"Hello sir," he offered a cheery wave.

"Do you have a job, young man? Do you find it hard to get a job looking like that?" At least he didn't bother to hide his disdain. You opened your mouth to argue back but Eddie gently shook his head.

"I don't sir," Eddie answered confidently, "considering I own my own business - a mechanic shop. And before then it was never an issue either."

Your father's face paled as he kept his gaze turned away. Eddie shot you a quick wink as he pulled out your chair for you. You sat down and tried to keep your expression as neutral as possible.

A tense silence fell over the room, the only sounds to be heard were from your mother finishing up in the kitchen. Luckily, you and Eddie had managed to perfect silent communication and you both had plenty to say to each other. You almost couldn’t control your laughter. You would have never felt this bold or confident without having Eddie by your side. He was able to bring out the very best of you. You could only hope that you did the same for him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time the food was on the table and everyone had a plate, conversation still didn’t really flow. There were stunted comments here and there from your parents, but that was the extent of it. You hoped that Eddie could see what you had meant when you’d told him about your childhood and life; these people were as straightlaced as possible.

“So,” and you knew it - something - was coming. You swallowed the bite in your mouth and looked at her with a hard expression, “you’re dressing…interestingly.”

“What do you mean?” you knew exactly what she meant. You’d been expecting her to ask something of the sort. You looked down at your outfit, which to be fair was still nothing shocking. It was a short black slip dress under which you had a white t-shirt on and a pair of docs on your feet. Hardly edgy but different than what they’d come to expect of you.

“It’s just so…garish,” she raised an eyebrow as Eddie choked on his bite as he tried not to laugh. You barely managed to hide your own laughter as you patted his back, “what kind of impression are you trying to give off?”

“This is hardly garish,” you snapped back, “I’m covered and this is just…so average. What is the problem? Because it’s black and different from what you’re used to?”

“Honey-”

“Don’t honey me,” you hissed at her, as your father slammed down his fist on the table.

“Do not speak to your mother like that!” you cringed slightly at the sound of his voice but kept yourself mostly in check.

“I’m not doing or anything rude or wrong,” you said softly, “my entire life you both have been this way. You’ve never let me have any freedom or anything, and I’m finally getting to be who I really am. And that’s okay - what is so wrong with me dressing slightly differently or expressing who I am?”

“You’re going to ruin your life like that - giving people the wrong impression by those clothes and this- this boy!” you groaned as Eddie’s eyes widened. He wasn’t quite sure if he should do or say anything.

“My clothes or how I act isn’t going to do anything or ‘attract the wrong people’ as you seem to think. The right people wouldn’t judge me on something like that," you sat back in your chair and shifted your gaze between your parents, "and just so we're very clear, this is who I've always been. I'm just not hiding it anymore. And you know who helped me with that? Eddie. I love him so much - and I'm going to spend the rest of my life with him. So if you want me to be any part of your lives you'll accept me as I am, and him."

The entire room fell into silence; your parents were clearly horrified and Eddie was looking at you with pure adoration. You blinked a few times; you hadn't planned any of that and weren't quite sure what to say or do next. You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"Well," you hated the tone of her voice. She picked up her napkin and dabbed at the corner of her mouth before practically glaring at you and Eddie. He reached for your hand under the table and laced your fingers together, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze, "I don't know where my little girl went but it's certainly not you. You can see yourself out the door."

"Mom-"

"Get out."

Tears started pricking at the back of your eyes as you stood up, practically pulling Eddie with you. It was silent between the two of you as you grabbed your purse and walked out the door. You didn't even have it in you to try and slam the door. You just left.

Eddie gently took the car keys from you, opening the passenger side for you to get in. He quickly slipped into the driver's side and before he could turn on the car, both of you started to giggle loudly.

"Jesus Christ," he let out a long sigh as he leaned against the headrest, "that was brutal."

"Yup…and that's not even the worst they've ever been," you looked at him with dreamy eyes before grabbing his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm, "thanks for coming and dealing with that."

"Nothing to thank me for sweetheart," he whispered, "you gonna be okay?"

"Of course," you promised, knowing the memories would sting for a while before they got better, "why wouldn't I be? I've got you, haven't I? You're my family, Eddie. Not them."

"Did you mean it?" He asked so softly that you almost didn't hear his simple question, "when you said we'd be together forever?"

"Duh," you teased and his cheeks turned pink as he bit his lip, "unless that's a problem for you?"

"Not at all," he leaned over the center console and kissed you sweetly, "that's all I've ever wanted."

"Me too, Eddie," you stole a few more kisses from your favorite boy, "I love you so much."

"I love you, brave girl. So much."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #joseph quinn #st

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megamindsecretlair · 8 months

Text

Sprung

Pairing: Tyrone x Black!Shy!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, multiple uses of the n-word, pet names. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smut, PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (fem receiving), cum play, possession kink, size kink, all consensual. Mentions of drug use and drinking.

Summary: You are so painfully shy, it hurts even you. But at a kickback at Tyrone's house, he sits next to you and promises you all kinds of dirty fun.

Word Count: 4,419k

A/N: This was my first ever request for a fic and I loved it! I had way too much fun writing this. I need to go hose off or something because WHEW! I am zooted and feral, so thank you @planetblaque for your support and this request! Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

Taglist: @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @wakandas-vibranium @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs

It was a typical Friday night. Your friend had dragged you to hang with Tyrone and the crew per her usual. She was trying to get you to loosen up and hang out, but you didn’t know these people. You ran in the same circles and occasionally saw them at the club or around the corner. But you’d stand there awkwardly while your friend did all the talking.

You’d probably trip over your words anyway. Tyrone was so fine. He moved like he owned the world. Even with a slow gait, he walked like you couldn’t tell him shit. He was low key, he didn’t talk much, but it was clear that he had an energy that drew people in.

He was nice enough to say hi and try to include you in the main conversation, but you’d just smile and nod along. Every time he came near or passed by you, it robbed you of your senses. He smelled clean like soap and your mouth would go dry whenever he’d smile big and wide. Those times were rare, but when it happened, your heart would stop.

This particular night, it seemed like everyone had paired up. There was a good mix of men and women chilling in Tyrone’s living room. The California sun cast rays of orange and pink through the blinds. Some movie you didn’t hear the name of played on the TV. Music flowed and there was heavy smoke in the air.

“You smoke?” Tyrone had walked into the room and sat beside you. Your heart started thumping in your chest. You twisted your fingers and shook your head. You couldn’t look at him. He was like one of those statues that were so beautiful and lifelike, it hurt to look too long.

“You don’t say much,” he said. He stared at you while he took a hit off of a joint. He turned his head the other way to blow it out, but the room was so permeated with it, it hit you anyway. You didn’t mind it much, it had a weird smell. But you were used to your friend smoking while ya’ll hung out.

“I never know what to say,” you said.

“How ‘bout why you don’t smoke?” He asked. He licked his lips and your eyes dropped to his lips. You wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Not that you’d ever really find out. He probably liked girls that were like your friend. Loud, confident, small. You had some meat on your bones. It wasn’t a bad thing, but guys like Tyrone went for the girls they could toss around the room. He’d probably hurt his back trying to lift you.

You shrugged and studied your fingers. “Never seemed like something I’d be into,” you said.

“No pressure, but you wanna play a game with me?” He asked. He hit the joint one more time and passed it on.

You blinked at him to see if he was playing some kind of joke on you. But he looked at you, dead serious, until you nodded.

“Aight. For tonight, keep an open mind.”

You didn’t know what he was talking about, but you wanted to. Your heart was working overtime in your chest, making your hands shake and making you stutter. You didn’t trust your voice, but you wanted to stop being a coward. You nodded. He smiled slowly, letting you see all of his teeth.

“Besides smoking, have you drank before?”

“I’m not a prude,” you said.

He laughed and held up his hands. “Aight, damn. My bad,” he said. “I get you a drink, will you talk to me some more?”

“Yes,” you said and rolled your eyes. People always teased you about being quiet. But it always felt like you were one step behind everyone else. It was easier to sit back and just absorb the vibe than try to chime in with some useless comment.

“Good girl,” Tyrone said and got up once more.

Your mouth dropped open. You gaped at him as he walked off to the kitchen. He didn’t look back at you. But that comment sent a shiver down your spine. He returned with two red cups in his hand and he handed one to you.

You shook the amber brown liquid and looked at him. “Henny?” You asked.

He nodded and watched you. You took a sip and then another one, letting the sweet burn coat your tongue. You swallowed it down and tried not to make a face.

“Not usually your thing?”

“Not usually,” you said.

Tyrone smiled and scooted closer to you until your thighs were pressed together. You wore shorts and a hoodie, so your bare thigh rubbed against his cargo shorts. He touched your knee and your leg jumped.

“You real tense for someone that’s supposed to be enjoying the party,” he said. He moved an index finger around your knee and you slowly relaxed.

“I am enjoying the party.” You smiled at him and sipped some more Henny. Maybe the alcohol would make you cooler or sexier. You knew you were beautiful and any guy would be lucky and the blah blah blah. But there was a difference between being beautiful and being sexy. Wanted. Desired.

Tyrone talked to you more, claiming he wanted to know more about you. You told him about your job, a little bit about your family. You learned that he only had a mom. His little brother was killed when he was younger and from the pain in his voice, you knew that that pain would never go away.

On to happier topics, you discussed your favorite movies, songs, and groups. He laughed when you said you preferred Tupac to NWA. He thought you were crazy. Adorable, but crazy. But he wanted to know more about you and wanted you to open up. He asked you why you were so stiff.

“I’on know, it’s just hard to relax. I got anxiety and shit,” you said. He laughed. His laugh was throaty and deep and he shook his head.

“You too cute to have anxiety,” he said.

“One ain’t got nothin’ to do with the other!”

“I can make you relax,” he said. Humor danced in his eyes, but there was nothing funny on his face. He stared at you and you saw his eyes wander all over you.

“How?” Your voice was small in the din of the room. Music still thumped and the room had thinned out as people started to pair off and find a flat surface somewhere. You had lost track of your friend and her boyfriend, one of Tyrone’s friends.

Moaning to your left caught your attention. A couple was standing near the kitchen making out but they may as well have been the only people in the room. The girl was small, high ponytail, and glossy lips and she was climbing all over her much taller date/boyfriend. Your cheeks burned as you looked away.

“You got a nigga I need to worry about?” He asked.

“No. You got a girl I need to worry about?” You asked.

He smirked but he didn’t answer you. He leaned down and kissed your cheek. “You still down to play our game?”

You nodded. He raised his hand and stroked your chin before making you meet his eyes. “Let’s go to my room then. I can help you relax,” he said.

You smiled and wanted to look away but he held your chin and made you look at him. “Um, I don’t know about that,” you said.

“Why not?”

“We don’t really know each other like that,” you said.

He kissed you. His lips were warm and you tasted Hennessy and weed on his tongue as it stroked yours. He suckled your lips with his and you moaned softly in the back of your throat. Fuck, he kissed really well. The type of kiss where you couldn’t sit still. The kind that made you want to crawl under his skin and live there. The kind that made your toes curl and your pussy get damp.

He pulled back and licked your lips one last time. “We can get to know each other,” he said.

“By getting in between my thighs?” You weren’t stupid. You knew what he was asking for.

“Shit, if you let me,” he said and grinned.

“Why me?” You asked. He was so fine that he could have any girl he wanted. He could crook his finger at anyone in the room and they would come crawling over to him, ready to please him.

“‘Cause you fine as hell. And you got me hurtin’ over here,” he said. He grabbed your hand and placed it over his dick. It hardened as he rubbed your hand over him. He was big, huge, gigantic. You’d seen and touched dicks before, but this was like the Sistine Chapel or some shit. The Mona Lisa. This was the end all and be all of dicks.

Panic must’ve shone on your face because Tyrone chuckled and kissed you again, rendering you stupid. “We’ll go slow. Just the tip,” he said.

You laughed. “You don’t believe that shit,” you said.

He grinned. “For you? I’d take my time,” he said.

You looked at him as he continued to rub his dick with your hand. Everything in you was screaming to run away and go home. What if you were bad in bed? What if you did something wrong? What if you couldn’t get him off?

The questions tumbled inside of your head, taking you out of the moment. You looked down at your hand and stopped moving it.

“Don’t give me no bullshit. I see you want this dick,” he said.

You sucked your teeth and rolled your eyes. “I wasn’t gonna give you bullshit,” you told him. You a damn lie, but he didn’t have to know that.

“Just say yes. Let me help you unwind,” he said.

You didn’t say anything as he stood up and pulled you to your feet. You didn’t say anything as he led you down the dark, quiet hallway towards his room. He opened the door for you and you walked in and sat on his bed.

His room was clean for a boy. He still had stuff thrown around but at least it smelled good in here and there were no empty dishes or wrappers. You hated dealing with messy people like that.

Tyrone closed the door and your heart was back to thumping. Tyrone sat next to you but didn’t do anything. You looked at him, wondering if he was waiting for you to make the next move. This was why you didn’t do shit like this. You didn’t know the rules or how everything was supposed to go down.

“You a virgin?” He asked.

You laughed, not expecting that question. “No!”

“What you actin’ shy for then? Give me a kiss,” he said.

You scooted closer and pecked him on the lips. He sucked his teeth and smirked.

“Don’t give me that weak shit,” he said.

You sighed but leaned in again to kiss him. You weren’t always good with words. But this you could do. You had been crushing on him for a while anyway. And by some miracle, he at least wanted to fuck you too.

When you pulled back, you blinked up at him and he grinned. “Good to keep going?”

You nodded. Tyrone went back to kissing you and for a while, he was content to do just that. There was nothing hurried about it. He kissed like he did everything else. In his own time. The more you kissed, the more that you were scooting closer and rocking back and forth trying to get some relief.

Tyrone huffed a laugh against your lips and pulled back to start kissing your cheek and jaw. “You ever let a nigga eat you out?” He asked.

“No.” Your voice was breathy as he found a ticklish spot on your neck. You curled against him and he laughed. He pulled your hoodie off and laughed at your fandom t-shirt.

“You like that goofy shit?” He asked.

“The fandom sucks, but yeah. It’s good,” you said.

He shook his head. “I ain’t never seen it. Maybe we can watch it together,” he said. He went back to kissing your neck as you thought over what he said. He wanted to watch the movie with you. As in…he wanted to see you again after this?

Well…wait till your friend heard about this shit. She thought your crush on Tyrone was adorable. You didn’t want to be adorable.

You broke the kiss and took off your shirt, leaving you in your bra and shorts. Tyrone raised his eyebrows and took in the burnished orange of your bra. It was a little risqué, with lace for the cups and it barely covered your nipple.

“Not such a good girl. What you doin’ wearing this?” He asked. He kissed a hot trail down your jaw and to the top of your breasts. He nibbled on one and you squirmed underneath him.

“I like it,” you told him.

“Mhm, I like that shit too,” he said. He pushed you onto your back and then stood up. You watched as he got rid of his own black t-shirt and kicked off his shoes and socks. He was a big boy, stocky, solid. You took in his chest and body and nearly salivated.

He moved closer, forcing your legs apart and you gasped. He chuckled darkly and started to remove your shorts. “I like this color on you,” he said.

Your panties matched your bra and he stood for a moment taking in your body. You crossed your arms, feeling self conscious. You were about to ask that you do this with the lights off. But Tyrone kneeled down and kissed your forearms, your hands, and your fingers.

“Don’t hide from me. I wanna see everything,” he said. He peeled your arms from over your chest and placed them on the sides of your body. You forced yourself to keep them there as he kissed along your tummy, your sides, your breasts.

He was slow and methodical with it. He never kissed the same area twice. He was showering your body with kisses and it only made you tingle. It made your hunger for him grow like a living thing inside of you. You shook even though the room was stuffy.

“How long has it been?” He asked against your skin. Wherever he kissed, he brought his hands up to massage you. He started with your thighs, kneading through the fleshy bits and his thumbs inched higher to where you wanted him. But he stopped just short of reaching your pussy and he worked his way down, towards your knees.

“A long while. Guys don’t really check for the big nerds,” you said. You weren’t bitter about it. It was a sad fact of life. And you didn’t want no ashy nerd anyway.

“That’s not true. We think ya’ll too good for us,” he said. You laughed and shook your head. You brought your hands up to your face.

Why was this shit so embarrassing? You were grown. You knew your worth. But in the back of your mind, you kept thinking that this was a set up. Any minute now, he was gonna take a picture or video and share it to social media and you were going to be laughed at forever. But that was irrational. You knew it was irrational.

“Move yo fuckin’ hands,” he said.

You lowered them and stared at him and his little tone. “Stop all that hiding shit.”

You blew out a breath. “It’s a habit,” you said.

“Yeah, well the shit stops tonight. Feel me?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, damn.”

Tyrone stood up and leaned over you. His fists were on either side of your head and you suddenly felt small compared to the size of him. “I’ma break you of that shit.” This close, his deep voice was amplified in the small room.

You were breathing too rapidly to ask more questions or what he was talking about. You had an idea but you couldn’t think past the look in his eyes. His eyes were narrow and though his lights were on, his eyes were two dark pools. You were drowning in them and you didn’t want to be saved.

He kissed you, chasing away any more thoughts. Then he kissed down your chest and belly again before planting his big nose against your sex and inhaling. “Fuck, you smell good,” he said. “Bet you taste good too.”

He stripped you of your panties and then blew a breath across your wet pussy. You jerked, back to being nervous. He didn’t say anything. He just ran his big tongue from your pussy to your clit. You gasped and ended on a moan as he did it a few more times.

“Fuhh,” you moaned. Had you known that getting eaten out felt this good, you would have done it a long time ago.

Tyrone gripped your thighs and hooked his arms around them. Then he latched onto your clit and started to devour you. He licked, sucked, and swirled his tongue around your clit. You jerked and tried to scoot away, but he held onto your thighs and wouldn’t let you get away.

You were soaking wet and his tongue only added to it. Your wetness and his spit dribbled down your ass cheeks and onto the bed. You were mildly embarrassed by that but he continued to eat you out and your embarrassment had its limits. Your concerns melted away as he licked and sucked away.

“Goddamn, you taste so fuckin’ good,” he said. He dived back into eating you out. He licked around your pussy and you started to stutter. “Oh, shit, wait,” you managed to squeak out. There was a pressure building low inside of you.

You had an orgasm before but it had been so long. Your breaths were little bursts of air in the room. You gripped onto his forearms and held on.

“I can’t…” you said. You wanted to move away and then orgasm. This seemed too intense, too big to do with his face in between your thighs. As if you were going to climax and burst into stardust.

“Mhm, let me taste it while you cum,” he said. His warm breath fanned over your pussy, drawing out another moan.

“Ty–” His lips descended on your pussy and started to flick your clit with his tongue. You cursed as the orgasm finally, blessedly tore through you. Your thighs twitched and you moved to close them, but Tyrone still held them rigid. He kept eating you out as your arousal pooled out of you.

When you were done with it, Tyrone kissed your thighs leaving wet spots behind. The bed under you was damp and starting to cool already. The bed dipped as Tyrone stood up and looked down at you with a satisfied grin.

“Felt good huh?”

You nodded and caught your breath. “Don’t get a big head,” you warned him. He waved you off as he undid his shorts and slipped it and his underwear off. His thick cock bobbed as it was set free and it was already leaking precum. A drop fell from the tip and disappeared.

You licked your lips as you watched. You wanted to taste him too. You wanted to suck him off and have him screaming your name. Have him moaning and throwing his head back. Your pussy contracted just thinking of making him feel just as good.

Tyrone stroked himself and chuckled. “As much as I want that sexy ass mouth on me, I wanna feel you cum on this dick,” he said.

He helped you sit up in bed and out of the giant wet spot you left behind. You stared at the dark spot against his blue sheets. You couldn't believe that all of that came from you. He pried your legs open and settled in between them. He positioned you how he wanted but also so that you were comfortable.

You had a big ass and that meant that you couldn’t lay down in the bed like others could. Your back was always lifted off of the mattress in some kind of way. He pushed a pillow under your back without you even having to say something.

He slapped his dick against your pussy. The wet slap was lewd and obscene. You brought your hands up to hide your face, but Tyrone grabbed your wrists and planted them against the bed. He kissed you until you melted under him once more.

When he was sure that you weren’t going to try and hide again, he moved his hand from your wrist. He lifted one of your legs and pushed it back until it was only slightly uncomfortable.

He poked you with his dick and you moved your hips, trying to line him up to enter you. He watched you struggle and grinned when you grew frustrated. He licked his thumb and started to play with your clit.

You stopped trying to get him inside you and relaxed into the pillows. “Oh, shit,” you said. He lined up his dick with your entrance and pushed in. Your hand flew to his stomach to stop him.

“Slow, remember? Slow,” you said. He was huge and it’d been a while for you, so as he pushed in, the slight burn only made you nervous.

“You gotta let me work it in, baby,” he said.

You nodded. He was right. You had to let him in but fuck. He was so big and you weren’t sure he was gonna fit. That had to be a thing right? Not being able to fit.

He only drew big circles around your clit and waited for you to stop tensing. He worked his hips back and forth trying to get inside of you. He pushed in a little more every time. He slipped on your wetness and went further, faster, and you bucked off of the bed with a silent scream. Your mouth had dropped open.

Tyrone moaned and rolled his head back towards the ceiling. “Goddamn. You so fuckin’ tight,” he whispered.

“Slow, slow!” Your brain was a real one, because it forced you to breathe when all you wanted to do was die. Tyrone stretched you out, further than you thought possible. You slapped at his stomach, arms, hands, as air returned to your lungs.

Tyrone only smirked down at your weak hits. “I gotta move, baby.” He slid out and back inside and you shrieked with pleasure. Your little squeals and moans were making Tyrone go faster. As if he had something to prove.

“Squeezin’ the shit outta my dick. Fuck. This my fuckin’ pussy.” His words were low and skipped over your nerve endings like a live wire. “This my fuckin’ pussy. It belong to me.”

You convulsed and contracted on his dick at his words. He felt it and groaned. “Yeah, that’s right. My fuckin’ pussy.”

Sweat dripped down from the crown of his head down his face. It slid down his neck and you licked your lips. You wanted to taste him. You sighed and tried to swallow your moans. You didn’t want to be too loud.

Tyrone switched up his angle, pushing your leg a little further back and a shrill moan escaped you. You bit your lip and Tyrone leaned down to kiss you. “Let me hear you, baby. Be good for me,” he said.

You nodded and let your moans fly. Fuck it. He felt so damn good inside of you. Like he was made to be there. Your wetness made him slip in and out easily now. He moved his hand from your leg and pulled down the cups of your bra so that you were exposed to him.

He sucked on your titties and continued to pound inside of you. “Fuck, Tyrone. Fuck. Wait,” you said. The duel sensations were too much for you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held on. Your hands played with his neck. You kissed his cheek and got sweat all over you. You licked your lips and licked the saltiness of him.

“Fuck, Tyrone.”

“I can’t fuckin’ wait. You feel too fuckin’ good. Where the fuck you been hiding this shit?” He asked.

He licked your neck, probably tasting your salty sweat as well. He bit down on your neck and you jerked. Your orgasm was swift and without mercy. You clamped down on his dick and he growled in your ear.

“Muthafucka,” he said. His voice was muffled in your neck. He stroked two more times before climaxing and releasing a fat load into you. You felt it fill you up. You should have been nervous about having sex without a condom. But you just wanted more. You hugged him to you as if you could mold yourself to him.

You moaned loudly, filling up the space with the sound of your voice. You didn’t worry for once. You didn’t worry about how you sounded or if you were doing it right. You didn’t worry about what he must be thinking. It was just your combined pleasure and the feeling of him buried deep inside of you.

His skin was on your skin. His hands were wrapped under you, squeezing your ass. Your nipples rubbed against his chest. Your nails dug into his back. It smelled like sex and his unique manliness.

He leaned up on one elbow so he wasn’t crushing you. He kissed you, slow and methodical like before. Like you were precious. Like he wanted to savor every once of your kisses like a chef at a new restaurant.

“Whose fuckin’ pussy is this?” He asked.

“Mine,” you said, feeling wicked and naughty.

He pushed into you, still rock hard and you gasped. “Fuck,” you moaned.

“I’m still fuckin’ full. I’ma keep going until you know whose pussy this is,”

You grinned evilly and kissed him. “I said it’s mine,” you said.

He chuckled and ran his tongue over your nipple. He started to move inside of you. His cum squelched as he started to fuck you again. He slid in and out even more easily and you took deep breaths.

“Naw. This shit belong to me.”

&&&

The Secret Tyrone Files (if you want to check out more!

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Tyrone Files #Tyrone x Black!reader #Tyrone x Black reader #Tyrone x Shy!reader #Tyrone x shy reader #Tyrone x Fem!reader #Tyrone x Fem reader #They cloned Tyrone smut #They cloned tyrone fanfic #They cloned tyrone fan fic #They cloned tyrone fanfiction #They clone tyrone fan fiction #They cloned tyrone #Tyrone smut #Fonataine smut

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wolken-himmel · 1 year

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In which Malleus overhears (Y/n) singing during one of his nightly walks.

Who knew that the prefect had such a lovely voice? Perhaps he has already heard it once upon a dream.

Request by anon.

The full moon adorned the shimmering stars in the night sky. Together, they casted a beautiful hue of white light onto the scenery of Night Raven College. On such nights, Malleus loved to wander the empty hallways of the main school building. The long and winding hallways seemed empty without the usual crowds of students, but perhaps the emptiness this contrast created drew him in.

A few crickets or birds could be heard here and there, but otherwise the night was silent. Malleus was about to finish his third round of the main building. He had hoped that the walking would take the worries off his mind. After not having found his favourite prefect at the Ramshackle mansion, he couldn't help but wonder where you were.

Perhaps you were sleeping, he mused. Humans had always been fragile beings that needed their beauty sleep.

Although he knew that you needed your sleep, he couldn't help but miss your presence. There were times when you would talk endlessly, never tiring of ranting and speaking. And then there were other nights when you wouldn't utter a single word — not out of discomfort, but instead because you seemed to enjoy the silence. Malleus liked hearing your voice, he had to admit, and it was during the latter that he would yearn to hear your lulling and soft voice.

His eyebrows began to crease again. He should stop thinking about your voice, or else he would find himself with a longing feeling in the pit of his stomach once again.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he turned on his heel. It was time for his nightly walk to come to an end. As if stuck in time, he remained frozen for a while — indecisive as if procrastinating. But his responsible side eventually eased him into movement towards the mirror chamber. It truly was time to return his dorm and retire for the night.

"I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream."

Someone was singing. His pointed ears perked up in curiosity. Why would anyone be singing in the dead of the night, in some desolate hallway? His originally startled stance eased up as soon as he realised just how soothing the singing was. The voice seemed strangely familiar to him, though he couldn't put a finger on who the owner could be.

"I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam."

The voice echoed along the hallway, thus earning an almost heavenly sound. Even if the owner might have sounded wonky at some points, he still found himself drawn in all the same.

"Yet I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem." There it was again, the melody somehow becoming more enchanting by the minute.

Curiosity finally overwhelmed Malleus, and he once again turned on his heel to investigate. He found himself drawn in like a sailor to a siren's song. His feet seemed to move on their own, with a brisk urgency he hadn't felt in a long while. The originally faint singing grew louder, and he knew he was on the right trail.

"But if I know you, I know what you'll do~ You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream."

A smile grew on his lips, and he closed his eyes in delight. He found himself having arrived when he spotted a dark silhouette in the next hallway. After having briefly peeked around the corner to realise his success, he quickly retreated behind cover and stayed there. With his back pressed against the cold stone wall, he closed his eyes in delight.

"But if I know you, I know what you'll do— You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream."

The tune etched itself into his mind, and he quickly began humming along without realising. His heart had slowed to the pace of a snail, and he found himself in a truly wonderful space of mind. It had been a long while since he had felt so... at home. The voice brought him an unexplainable sense of comfort.

"I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam."

The song began once again from the beginning, much to his delight. He never wanted it to end.

"And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I know you, I know what you'll do—"

So caught within a trance, Malleus never realised that his lips parted by themselves. "You'll love me at once," he sang along happily, "the way you did once upon a dream." The two voices mixed together to create a beautiful harmony that managed to pull at his heartstrings.

The more it hit him like a wall of bricks when the other voice came to a sudden halt. His eyes snapped open at once. Only then did he realise his mistake of having piped up accidentally. He cursed himself for having lost control so easily, but his instincts immediately made him jump out of hiding.

His eyes fell on the mysterious figure whose back was no longer turned to him. The moon light from the large windows fell on the face of the unknown singer. There you were, frozen like a deer in headlights. For what felt like eternity, you merely stood there and stared back at him in shock.

"Child of man?" he breathed out in disbelief. No wonder the voice seemed so familiar to him.

At once, you fell out of your stupor. The surprise on your face now replaced by embarrassment, you let out a sheepish chuckle. "Oh, it's just you, Malleus. I thought you were a teacher... I wouldn't want to get in trouble," you began to rant. "What are you doing out here at this time?"

He tilted his head to the side in amusement. "Shouldn't I ask you the same question? I thought you humans valued your nightly sleep."

Your cheeks grew warm at his comment, and you cast your gaze at the floor. "Well, uh... I couldn't sleep. Strange, eh?" Your eyes never met his; instead, they darted everywhere else. "Back in my world, I would sing whenever I couldn't sleep. I guess it tires me out."

"You could have stayed in the safety of your dorm." Malleus quirked an eyebrow when he noticed you shivering.

"Yeah, but Grim's snoring was way too loud."

A snicker escaped his lips at the way you rolled your eyes. He didn't voice his thoughts, but he found the gesture adorable. Nonetheless, he beckoned you towards him, whispering, "Come now, you are cold. You should return to your dorm. Have you sung enough for tonight?"

"I guess so," you muttered while suppressing a yawn. You let yourself be guided into the general direction of your dorm, his hand gently resting on your back.

"I didn't know you could sing so well," Malleus said after a while. "I could have listened to you all night long."

A sheepish smile flashed across your face. "Thank you."

The fae hummed happily. "Your choice of song seems familiar. Perhaps I've heard it once upon a dream."

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #reader insert #y/n #disney twst #twst x you #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twst malleus #twst malleus draconia #twst malleus x reader #twisted wonderland malleus #gender neutral reader

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finisnihil · 2 months

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Hello pookies let’s talk about Aventurine and Topaz

Penacony spoilers+Analysis ahead

Let’s start off the bat, I personally like Aventurine more than Topaz and the main reason is because Topaz willingly works for the IPC while Aventurine doesn’t. Some people have pointed out in other posts of mine that Topaz didn’t voluntarily join the IPC. Her planet was dying and the IPC bought it, she joined because it was required of her, but here’s the difference. She chooses to stay.

She emphasizes in her talking with Bronya and the Trailblazer than she doesn’t stay with the IPC just because she has to or because she needs a paycheck. She stays because she likes working for them.

Also, she sees what was done to her planet as a good thing. In her eyes, the IPC saved her planet, in her eyes it isn’t exploitation. She tries to force the same thing on Jarilo-VI to the point she attacks the Astral Express for trying to stop her after Bronya declined the contract. She felt entitled to Jarilo-VI and when she was told no she ignored it. To her, the IPC are the best. It’s no wonder either, as far as we know she hasn’t seen the truly ugly side of the IPC yet because the IPC need her. In her character stories other IPC constantly hype her up, she’s a prodigy, she makes the IPC more efficient. She raises the success rate from 63% to above 80%. Even in her early days we see her breaking rules and getting away with it because the IPC value her too much to lose her.

They don't even question her calculations. Adding to this, when Aventurine is first introduced, it's after she's punished for her actions on Jarilo-VI.

He gives a lot of context about Topaz's power in the IPC. She "dodged a bullet there", implying she theoretically should've got a stronger punishment than being demoted a rank and losing some bonuses she's mentioned she doesn't care about. He even mentions that somebody is "looking out for her". Topaz has backing. He also mentions Jarilo-VI was a high-risk low-reward situation and that her "kind heart" was a liability. Topaz has the room to take on such cases and exercise her "kind heart" because she isn't at risk of losing everything if she screws up. There's little consequences to her actions, there's powerful people protecting her, and the IPC need her. Topaz can leave at any time, she choses not to because she likes the IPC. You see this power dynamic in her character trailer.

A throne is strong imagery and she's surrounded by money, the real representation of power in the IPC.

So let's talk about Aventurine and why I think he's interesting and why I like him more than Topaz.

Let's start with his power dyanmic within the IPC, or more so, his lack of one.

Aventurine has a serial number on his neck and Dr Ratio specifically calls him a "thrall". The term thrall in this context seems to imply he's a captive of some sort of the IPC*, to them he's a product. We can feel his lack of power in the way people talk to him.

Sparkle speaks to him in a super derogratory way and belittles him by implying he had to humiliate himself to influence Sunday. Meanwhile Dr Ratio writes him off as ruining everything before he gets to really do anything.

He gets power by gambling for it. Power is fleeting and he can lose it easier than most.

At one point he talks about how much money he loses wasting ten minutes. Ten minutes is nothing for Topaz but to Aventurine it's lost money and if he's not making the IPC money he's useless and viable to be cast aside. He can't afford it because he has no power. Compared to Topaz, he can't leave. He has less room for screw ups.

Onto friendship.

When friendship comes up, he keeps the idea at a distance. He asks how friends benefit him. Sparkle says he treats friends like bargaining chips and when he's talking with Dr Ratio he says that "Friends are weapons of Avgins". To him, friends are used for or against you.

He doesn't have any real friends, he's always on his own. He has no backing. He can't trust anybody because he's in such a vulnerable state and everyone around him looks down on him because of his heritage. Dr Ratio even tells him he causes too much trouble to have freinds, likening him to a peacock with a jarring call.**

Finally I want to analyze this conversation between him and Topaz. When asking for her help, he calls her old friend, implying he's planning to use her. The thing about Aventurine is that compared to Topaz, he's more ruthless because he has to be, he doesn't have the wiggle room she does, even Black Swan notes this saying he'll go to extreme lengths to maintain an advantage. Right now, that's what he's doing because he's being thrown to Penacony as a sacrifice. For the reasons above he seems to be the most expendable Stoneheart. He notes Penacony is a lost cause and Topaz is shocked that the mission isn't given to a higher ranking Stoneheart. He eggs Topaz into being his project manager with the idea she'll recover what she lost on Jarilo-VI. What he's really doing is using her to shield himself. With her involvement the IPC will be less likely to cut their loses with him, because they need Topaz and if he puts his eggs in her basket to care for they're less likely to be left to break by the IPC. If things go wrong he takes the blame… unless he has Topaz to sofen the blow. He's gambling on her power in their dynamic.

*My personal theory as of 2.0 is that the Sigonians and Avgins had a war and the IPC backed the Avgins for a benefit of their victory, assuring it. Aventurine was a captive or some sort of "war prize" hence the serial number and Dr Ratio calling him a thrall. It also explains the negative view of Sigonians and the very favorable view of Avgins among other lore we've gotten about it. I may do a seperate post of this theory.

**Sparkle and Dr Ratio liken Aventurine to a peacock frequently. Male peacocks use their feathers to attract the attention of female peacocks. This matches Aventurine's very flamboyant and charismatic character and his place in the story.

Feel free to add discussion, have a great day, mwah!

#honkai star rail #Penacony #Penacony spoilers #aventurine #topaz #aventurine analysis #topaz analysis #aventurine theory #Aventurine has grown on me I will admit #He fascinates me #Finis Analyzes

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obessedwithfictionalmen · 2 months

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Co-Stars pt.8

Callum Turner X Actress! Reader

Summary: A bad joke is made about Y/n and Callum won't stand for it.

Warning: Joe Koy/ Swearing/ use of Y/n/ mention of being naked

Word count: 1.1k

Yn's outfit:

Award season was going well, she won an Emmy and now she was nominated for a Golden Globes for Best Performance by a Female Action in a Drama series. Unlike the Emmy’s, she was now nominated as if she was a main character, and it was amazing. The cast walked on the red carpet, again, getting yelled at by photographers. ‘’Good luck tonight, Y/n, I hope you win!’’ one yelled. It made the woman smile. ‘’Boys how does it feel to work with this amazing woman’’ without saying a word, they all start to kneel, to pay their respect to her. ‘’Oh my god’’ Y/n laughs. She takes a pose for the photographers and the boys get up. ‘’I love you guys’’ she says to her co-stars.

They didn’t know who the presenter was, so Y/n had to google him, but at the same time, Florence Pugh came to the table and asked for a photo with her. Her phone was towards the camera, her google research was exposed. But the ceremony started, Y/n was nervous, she was against really good actress, like Emma Stone and Bella Ramsey. ‘’Now Master of the Air was amazing! But I didn’t get why each time we saw Y/n on screen, we saw her naked, I mean, was the only purpose of her character, being naked? You’re playing in a series about WW2, not Sex Education’’ that was supposed to be a joke, but no one laughed. Y/n was looking at the presenter with a death stare before taking a sip of his drink. Joe nervously laughed. ‘’Sorry about that’’ he continued his speech but when he ‘apologized’ the camera went on Y/n and Callum. ‘’You better be sorry, asshole’’ Callum mumbled. He hid his mouth when he insulted him, but he didn’t understand why he thought making this joke was supposed to be fun. ‘’He clearly didn’t watch the hole show’’ Austin said to Y/n, which made her smile.

‘’And the winner is…’’ her heart was going to burst out of her chest. ‘’Y/n Y/l/n for her role in Master of the Air’’ She got up her chair, kissed Callum, hugged Austin and Antony, took off her shoes and made her way to the stage. She hugged Meryl Streep, she was presenting the award, when Y/n got to Joe, she didn’t hug him. She took the statue and came closer to the mic. ‘’Oh my god, wow, thank you so much. That’s amazing!’’ her voice cracked from the emotions. The crowd cheered for her. ‘’This series means so much to me, my wonderful co-stars, I love you so much. I don’t want to say the same thing as my other speech, because I did more than being naked in every scene, so I won awards, and people actually know who I am.’’ The crowd laughed at the comeback for the woman. Joe faked laugh and looked at the ground. ‘’To all the people out there, that are scared to pursue their dreams, don’t give up. You can do it, dreams come true! I got men kneeling for me, I won awards, and I got made fun of on national television! Thank you and good night!’’ she said, making the crowd laugh again. Callum was so proud of his girl; she stood up for herself and she did it the funniest way possible.

‘’The Golden Globe for the best drama Television Series goes to…’’ Drew Barrymore opened the envelope, the cast all held hands, silently praying. ‘’Master of the Air!’’ she exclaimed, stomping around in excitement. The cast got up, followed by Tom Hanks, Steven Spielberg and Gary Goetzman. When they all got on stage, the trophy was handed to Gary. Callum and Y/n held hands; it was special to be on stage together. ‘’Wow! Thank you so much, this is amazing! This T.V show is, I think, really important to understand history and its darker parts. I’m going to stop talking or I’ll take all the time’’ Gary laughed. The mic was given to Tom Hanks. ‘’Like Gary said, this series is the third, we did Band of Brothers and The Pacific, but Master of the Air is the last and to see it getting so much recognition fills my heart with joy’’ he said, tears in his eyes. Steven stepped forward to talk. ‘’Thank you to everyone that made this project happen, to our beautiful cast, thank you for accepting to follow our crazy idea, love you all’’ he blew kiss to us. Austin stepped forward. ‘’Thank you so much. This type of series, uh, I think, needs to be done so the next generation can understand what really went down. Thank you so much!’’ Y/n smiled; Callum stepped forward. ‘’And finally, thank you to everyone that really watched the show and saw that Y/n wasn’t always naked!’’ that made the cast laugh. A Y/n face palmed, but she was happy to see that the joke wasn’t forgotten and that the guys didn’t like it. ‘’Yeah! Y/n is amazing!’’ Barry quickly said. The woman laughed as they all left stage. Backstage, they all hugged, even the directors joined in. ‘’I’m so proud of all of you.’’ Tom Hanks said.

‘’So, Y/n, a picture came out, can you explain what you were googling’’ the journalist asked, making the woman laugh. ‘’Uh, I didn’t know who Joe Koy was, so I looked him up’’ she simply said. ‘’About the joke he made, your co-stars became protective, what does it mean for you?’’ she was tired of this question, each interview station, they asked that question. ‘’Personally, I thought it was low, I mean, it wasn’t the fact that she was naked that made her win an Emmy and a Golden Globe, so yeah. But I think he learned his lesson’’ Callum answered. Y/n smiled and leaned her head against him. ‘’Thank you, good night’’ the journalist said. They could finally leave this place. Y/n has her statue in her hand, it was really beautiful. ‘’It’s going to fit perfectly beside my Emmy award’’ she said in the limousine. Making her co-star giggle. ‘’Like we told you before, we got your back, we weren’t going to let him disrespect you like that’’ Anthony said. Y/n thanked him as they made their way to the after party.

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #master of the air #golden globes

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skelliko · 2 months

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Kazutora Hanemiya |°- crushing misunderstanding

|°-context: kazutora is crushing on you but he sees you and akkun walking together and assumes that you're both together making kazutora's heart to break not knowing that you and akkun are simply friends - mainly fluff not angst

final time line: 4th Division Captain: Kazutora Hanemiya Vice-captain: Atsushi Sendo (Akkun)

kazutora couldn't help but notice the scene that he had accidentally stumbled upon on, before he was gonna ignore it and think nothing much of it until he double looked and his heart managed to stagger in emotions, akkun walking with his school crush. kazutora's school crush.

despite akkun being Vice-captain of the forth division and them being good friends there's still things that kazutora doesn't mention and one of them being is who his heart flutters to.

his mind went to so many scenarios and reasons as to why, out of everyone it'd be you two who walk together and not only that but also holding little brown bakery bags, as if you both had bought a sweet desert together, and are about to enjoy it in each others company.

'no no no no no... their not though? are they?!' his mind was more than a mess

theres no other explanation other than your both either on a date or dating. or even worse, in an actual relationship. kazutora's mind went to so many lengths as he pondered and stalked you both, hiding behind corners, bushes and bus stops to wherever you both are walking to,

he was desperate to find out what was going on even though he knows he needs to let go and back tf up.

'akkun has never mentioned having a girlfriend though, let alone that he's talking to a girl...' that certainly reassured him a little but only for a few seconds when his overthinking took over again

'but maybe that's cause no one asked or mentioned anything! and here he is with the girl that I like, for fucks sake!'

he tried to get close to the both of you to try and hear what you guys were talking about but while doing so self awareness had hit him, he didn't want to get caught lurking around, if a bystander seen what kazutora was doing then a clear title would be placed on him 'stalker'

he kind of just stood there in the middle of the pathway, watching as the both of you walked ahead having your own little moment. it was like kazutora was a small puppy being cast out and away from it's owners. for a short moment he had grown upset, he accepted that him and you were never gonna be because Akkun has already taken your attention.

when he took half a step backwards to turn around and not invade your privacy any longer, it was then that you had turned around making kazutora to be captivated. it wasn't just your beauty that had made him freeze and his heart to grow wings and flutter but it was you smiling and waving at him... him, kazutora, no one else, your eyes were stuck onto kazutora.

his heart was left uncontrolled and skipped all around his body whilst his main focus was to bite down the corner of the inside of his mouth to stop him from smiling like a little kid and getting all giddy for you just simply noticing him. it felt unreal to him in that moment that he had forgotten to wave back, and he was too busy on not smiling like an idiot that he didn't even smile back at all. well now he feels like a complete fool and should be shut out of society forever.

*inserts image of grieving shinji on a chair* -how kazutora feels right now

a whole week went by after that encounter, and since then in school kazu and you haven't had a full conversation, sure you've exchanged a few small words but then he'd cut it off with an excuse to leave all due to wanting to give respect for you and akkun.

before, the both of you would be talking non stop in the middle of lesson, being the teachers most annoying students that can't shut up and are always an nuisance to deal with. it's gotten to the point where after you both stoped talking even the teacher pointed it out Infront of the whole class, "some argument happened between you two?" like c'mon... why is it always those teachers that think they can get involved and think pointing things out to be funny. they get in-between everything.

it left an empty pit in his stomach not being able to talk to you the way he wants to. all because in this setting he chose to put his friends first before himself.

-- some time later ---

"so akkun, you got any plans with y/n?" asking that question hurt him more than it should have, but he needs to get over it soon enough. only after he gets an understanding at what stage the both of you are at. 3 month mark? secretly wishing.

"don't think so, why'd you ask?"

"nothing nothing, just curious. I'm surprised that she'd be with someone like you" it was supposed to come out as regular boy banter and laugh it off but instead he didn't watch his tone and grew blunt about it as if he'd meant it. in which he did.

it took akkun a few silent seconds to process his response and what kazu had just assumed "be with?" purposely ignoring kazutora's sudden burst of agitation and instead focusing on the question itself. "you think me and her are together... as in dating?"

"well you two seem to be quite close, no?"

"kazutora. no. were friends, full heartedly friends" while motioning his hands out to emphasize how baffling and wrong kazutora's question was.

if crickets were around the city they'd be loud, but instead all there could be heard was the click of kazu's tongue before replying "...Oh. shit"

akkun couldn't help but snort out a laugh, whereas kazutora on the other end was looking back and regretting everything which included ignoring you. but he had a good reason to, right? I mean how exactly was he supposed to know that you two were just friends?

many ways actually, sure, but he put his friends first and that's what had mattered, before at least. now, kazutora is trying to figure out ways on how to approach you without seeming like a douche for abruptly leaving and then coming back.

"wait, you like her??" it only then clicked into akkun's head making him perk up about why you even became a conversation topic.

"I bet she hates me" burrowing his face into his hands and feeling all sulky. didn't fully answer akkun's question but that small sentence answered a lot without meaning to.

"you do! you like-like her!" first time hearing about this and he instantly stood up from his seat, oh he was gonna have fun with this information. he can either tease the hell out of kazutora or help him out. but currently he'll torment him first.

"keep it down! dont need anyone hearing" lifting his head up from his hands and looking around the open area

"who's gonna hear? I'm not name dropping, or unless you're embarrassed" tormenting kazutora by making him think of you.

"of course not... maybe. but that's besides the point" kazu ended up explaining things from how he saw you and akkun but left out some details such as him following them to how things went with you and kazu at school.

"dug yourself a hole there I'll be honest, why didn't you ask me first before assuming?" -akkun

"didn't want to draw much attention on the subject"

"oh right right..." not right actually, don't exactly know what that was supposed to mean but didn't want to press on about it. after a short moment of silence it seemed like something was supposed to be done otherwise dragging the gap between you and kazu any further and it might be too much to fix. though luckily a little plan had settled into akkun's mind, after all he was close enough to you to be considered good friends. "I'll help you, don't worry"

♡----

a/n: I could have written the plan/aftermath n' that but I got lazy

#tokyo revengers #kazutora #kazutora hanemiya #kazutora x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers akkun #akkun #atsushi sendo #kazutora hanemiya x reader #kazutora fluff #tokyo revengers fluff

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solecize · 2 months

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.

despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining, jungkook as a parental figure 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 3.8k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. no warning except main characters being dumb and some SERIOUS tension

part six: the dreams and the sunday market ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ previous. next. masterlist

xv. the dreams

you were dreaming of kissing jeon jungkook.

it was akin to a recurring nightmare, the way you woke up in cold sweat after picturing his beautiful lips on yours in your sleep. ever since the night where the two of you shared dinner, the image haunted you and chased you even in your lack of consciousness. it didn’t help that your day always began at five a.m, leaving you waking up, distraught, and no sun to warm your surroundings.

today in particular was not looking to be on your side. you slept through your first two alarms after getting lost in the dream of kissing jungkook on a beach in front of luscious palm trees and golden sand. even worse, it was the day of jungkook’s return to the farm.

in the hours between your awakening and jungkook’s arrival, your nerves casted away your grogginess. you wondered why you didn’t decline his offer to finish the gate, but remembered he made it clear he didn’t have feelings for you - there should be no problem, then.

since he was coming in the evening, you had an entire day ahead of you. somehow, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. it was maddening, as if the thoughts of jeon jungkook settled beneath your skin and chased your every move. it was a gloomy day with light showers, but the thoughts kept you warm and you didn’t like it one bit.

by 5 p.m, you were wrapped up for the day. it shouldn’t have taken so long, but with your late wake-up and the plaguing image of your childhood best friend, you found yourself sluggish. you decided that you were going to proceed like you’d done in the weeks prior.

the last thing you wanted to take care of was inspect the garage once more. you’d been meaning to test out the old tractor inside to determine if you could sell it off or not, but it was a problem when the door was stuck in the same place. now, you were outside, wrestling with the garage, once again.

“i guess this does have to be fixed. . .” you mumbled to yourself, remembering jungkook’s words.

then, you heard your name being called. it startled you, since you hadn’t had any visitors in quite some time, considering jungkook’s absence. however, you knew that voice from a mile away and weren’t surprised when you turned around, taking notice of him approaching across the fields, coming face to face with the man in question.

you hastily wiped the beads of sweat on your temple. “hey,” you said when you saw jungkook, who likely wandered to the fields when you didn’t answer the front door.

“hey, y/n,” jungkook replied, setting his toolbox down by the fence he was to work on. today, he was wearing a black button down over a white t-shirt with jeans. his hair had grown slightly longer since you first arrived to amber valley and you liked the way it fell over his eyebrows.

as you always did, you graciously thanked him. “i really appreciate you coming to help me out.” even though he essentially shut down any possibility of you being able to come to terms with any feelings you had. you didn’t say that part out loud.

“stop that, you know i just want to lend a hand,” he waved you off and you wondered if that was what you knew. you weren’t sure if that was what your silent agreement with jungkook truly involved, with his persistence and your strong will - two things that were not easily challenged, but crumbled at one another.

"you still fighting with that old thing?" jungkook chuckled softly, looking at the garage door behind you.

you only rolled your eyes. "i thought i could get it."

he shook his head, continuing to laugh, and then glanced at the watch on his wrist. “oh, i guess this is the first time i’ve come by in the evening. you’re done work for once.”

you didn’t realize this fact either and tried to fight a silent panic - you usually had a task that you could pretend to be busy with, in order to distract yourself from jungkook’s presence. then, you began what to wonder what was wrong with you? it was just jungkook. were your vivid dreams really chasing you into acting strangely? and was he not quieter than usual, or were you overthinking things?

jungkook eventually excused himself to get to work and you decided that you needed to push your barrage of thoughts and questions away. instead, you entered the kitchen and proceeded to make dinner as usual, except a bit extra for your handyman of a friend.

when you peeked outside after finishing, you saw that jungkook was drilling something into place. he’d taken off his button down shirt at some point, tying it around his waist. you cleared your throat loudly to get his attention, but it didn’t stand a chance against the sound of the drill.

“jeon jungkook!” you yelled, but he still couldn’t hear you. it was only when you brought your hands to your lips and let out a loud whistle when he finally caught your eye, turning the drill off promptly.

jungkook shook his head in disbelief, walking towards you with a laugh. “namjoon was right, that is a really loud whistle you can do.”

“i made dinner,” you said, hiding your nerves. in reality, you knew little could go wrong, as the two of you were sharing meals together for weeks. unless, of course, if he tried setting you up with a friend again.

“you know, i took you as someone who would be shit at cooking, but you’re pretty good,” jungkook teased, as he left his tools on the ground and walked towards you. “and thanks, of course.”

you rolled your eyes. “i’m good at everything.”

“lies. there’s a bunch of things i’m better than you at,” he mused, as he opened the door back inside for you.

the half-serious bickering made you drop your shoulders in ease, settling back into the same comfortable atmosphere that you always shared with jungkook. this was still the brat that used to whine if you got a better guitar hero score than him.

the two of you soon settled into some local gossip. jungkook began telling you about how your grandpa used to constantly predict that the lee family would divorce sooner or later, which was apparently now in progress. you wondered how close he really was to him.

“i wish we gave him one more summer with the three of us,” you said, as the two of you moved in fluid motions around the kitchen. the movements were natural and almost domestic, with jungkook knowing where all of the plates and silverware was and made it his job to set the table. meanwhile, you began getting the food ready.

he nodded. “i think he would have liked that. he’s probably happy that we’ve become friends again.”

the image of your dreams last night flashed before your eyes when jungkook said the word “friends” and you chose to ignore it.

instead, you responded, “i’d like to think that we never stopped.” your voice was quiet, unsure of the statement that you just offered.

it was nice, the way that you and jungkook managed to pick up your friendship after thirteen years as if nothing happened in between. and, even then, over the past month, the two of you slowly began to grasp the lives you led in the time apart. the people you grew into. somehow, it still clicked.

jungkook paused, in the middle of bringing out plates from the cupboards. “you know, me too,” he said. “too bad you stopped responding to my letters.”

this made you also freeze in place, eyebrows furrowed at his remark. “what do you mean? i didn’t stop responding,” you turned around to face him. “you’re the one that stopped replying.”

“i’m pretty sure i was the last one to send a letter, bunny,” jungkook chuckled, but you sensed some bitterness. “i sent you a letter one spring and then when june rolled around, your grandpa randomly told me you weren’t coming back.”

you shook your head, lips parted. “i never got a letter.”

by now, you finished setting food on the table. it was a full american-style breakfast, with chicken and waffles, scrambled eggs, and a platter of fruit from the farm. you made a jug of iced tea and set out some water. jungkook’s eyes trailed to the table and his eyes were unreadable.

“that’s too bad,” he spoke slowly, as if remembering something. “breakfast for dinner?” then, jungkook shook his head, as if shaking the thoughts off, and proceeded to set the rest of the table.

your eyes widened. “sorry, do you not like it? i thought it would be a good change - “

“no, it’s not that! thank you, it looks delicious. i love breakfast for dinner,” jungkook smiled. it was as if he flipped a switch and you were itching to know what he was thinking before.

“if you’re not up for it - “

“you’re annoying, come sit down with me,” jungkook interjected again, but was playful and rubbed his hands together, ready to dig in.

you punched his shoulder, which you knew did little damage, but he yelped anyway. sitting down across from him, jungkook began serving the both of you and you didn’t object when he plopped food on your plate for you. it was the same routine that you had before and frankly, it was nice.

“i just didn’t think it would you’d never come back to town again,” he commented and you were confused, until you remembered what he said earlier.

you found yourself biting the inside of your cheek. “me neither. i don’t know what hapened, i used to love it here. . “ you trailed off, looking around your surroundings and out the window, where the silver of the amber valley sky looked down on you. “i did try looking for you at some point, but you aren’t on social media.”

jungkook shook his head, pouring two cups of iced tea. “not really. and especially not after i started taking care of jiwon.” he passed one cup to your side, which you quietly thanked him for. “i think i saw you one time online, in early high school, but you looked different and i wasn’t sure.”

like every teenager, you had a phase of experimenting with your look and went through different kinds of hair colours and makeup styles. now, in your twenties, you’d grown tired of constant change and like your city life, settled for mundane and simple. just before his passing, your grandpa once remarked that you began to look like yourself again.

“we would’ve still been best friends in high school. i’d keep you around to copy off your homework,” you joked, cutting into a waffle. you weren’t kidding when you told jiwon about how smart jungkook was, as he’d always been since you two were young. though you were academically gifted yourself, you’d held jealousy for the way jungkook learned every hobby you liked at twice the learning speed.

“aw, i was your best friend?” jungkook banterd, which made you kick him underneath the table. “i’m joking. we’re best friends forever, isn’t what we put on the tree?”

“oh my god, don’t remind me of that!” your cheeks went hot, as you recalled that memory that jungkook was referring to.

when you were about nine years old, you and jungkook had the genius idea to carve your names into a random tree by the town square. while doing so, you were caught by mayor kim walking by, who made a big deal out of you kids “defacing” town property. when he scolded you and told your grandpa though, the latter got a kick out of it.

the rest of the conversation was light, which was exactly what you needed. in spite of this, jungkook’s remarks about your letters echoed in the back of your mind. you made a mental note to look into his claim - though the said letters from your childhood likely lived in your dad’s apartment, where you had spent your middle school to high school years at.

midway through the dinner-slash-breakfast, you caught the way jungkook’s eyes were fixated on you and didn’t move. you gave him a questioning look and he sighed.

jungkook said, “there’s jam on your face.” his tone was pretending to be disappointing, but holding back a laugh.

“oh, where?” you began wiping your cheek, which turned out to be dry. you continued swiping around, still missing.

he groaned. “it’s literally right there. by your nose, bunny. come on.”

after looking like he was about to simultaneously lose his mind and burst out laughing, his chair creaked loudly against the wooden flooring and jungkook stood up. he made strides around the table over to you and bent down to meet you at eye-level. you jumped at the sudden movement and the fact that jungkook’s face was inches away from yours. he was so close that you could count every single one of his long eyelashes if you tried.

“it’s right. . .here.” at some point, jungkook ripped away a piece of paper towel from your side and you nearly flinched when you felt his touch on your cheek.

he gently wiped away the spread with a tilted head and a crease forming in between his brows, seemingly looking everywhere but in your eyes. you were so close to him that you could hear his steady breathing. you wondered if he was close enough to hear the army marching in the middle of your chest. it was hard for you to breathe yourself when your entire body froze at the contact.

you managed to let out a whisper, fighting the shiver creeping up your spine. “thanks.”

jungkook’s lips looked exactly like they did in your dreams. “no problem.” his voice was low and you swore you saw his eyes flash to your own lips, before looking up at you.

you weren’t sure how long the two of you were still for. the only thing in your ears was the sound of your heart, which was amplified over the ticking of the grandfather clock several feet away. nobody dared to move until the ringing of a cell phone, which caused both of you to jump.

it was jungkook’s. the phone was sitting on the dining table and it rang because you knew he always kept his phone off vibrate for his sister. when you saw a picture of jiwon and jungkook making silly faces at each other flash on the screen, you cleared your throat and scooted backwards, knowing that jungkook was going to immediately take the call.

“sorry, one sec,” jungkook eventually snapped back into reality when he saw his screen. he picked up his phone and trailed into the living room to take the call.

it was time for you snap back into reality, too. you felt stupid and like you wanted to bang your head into the table in front of you. there was no way he was going to kiss you, you’d witnessed one too many reruns of this fantasy in your dreams. you just spoke about how great your friendship was.

best friends forever. you repeated that in your mind, along with jungkook talking your ear off about how great you and taehyung would look together.

xvi. the sunday market

on the last sunday of each month, the valley closed up most of its main roads for pedestrian access only and the community came out to hold a market in the town square. local busineses came out to sell their usual and offer up fun, seasonal products to buy. your grandfather usually set up a stand, but you found yourself a little too shy to be doing it alone for your first month in town. thankfully, you were wedged between jimin and hoseok, right in between their booths.

“honestly, i’m glad you’re with us, y/n. at least we can all smell like fish,” hoseok hummed, as he began unfolding a tablecloth.

to this, jimin rolled his eyes and continued shuffling through some flyers in his hand. “we’re not even selling fresh fish this month.” in front of him was instead a variety of different seafood products, such as artisanal spread, marinated seafood in jars and sustainably sourced caviar.

meanwhile, you were proud of what you scrambled together last minute. cartons of eggs, jugs of milk, yogurt, and quick-growing crops like microgreens and radishes. you took your job very seriously and wanted to make a good impression on the townsfolk.

“thank you, y/n! hoseok, can you put some sunblock on for once? sheesh, you’re going to get burnt!” hoseok’s mom, mrs. jung, was one of your first customers that day and happily took home some fresh basil and eggs. her sneer at hoseok was clear as day, even underneath her floppy hat, snapping at her son from right beside you.

hoseok groaned. “mom, i’m almost thirty. stop!” and still, he reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of sunscreen.

mrs. jung ignored him. “bye, y/n! bye jiminnie!” she blew a kiss to jimin, which made hoseok grumble.

you laughed at the interaction, as you fanned yourself with one of jimin’s flyers. it’d been less than an hour since the market began and it was still early in the morning, so the square was sparse. you could even look down to your left and still see seokjin’s booth on the other side of the market, beside the mayor’s booth manned by namjoon.

it was now the end of june and marked your first month in town. the skies were clear and bright, a sight that you promised yourself you wouldn’t take for granted. every morning, you woke up before the sun did and by the time the morning came up to greet you, you were filled with vibrant energy for the day.

“hi unnie! you look like you’re in a good mood today!” it was jiwon, holding onto peanut with one hand and her teddy bear in another. she was stylish for a kid her age, wearing jeans and a trendy graphic t-shirt that you suspected was jungkook’s influence.

taking a cautious scan of your surroundings, you let out a quiet breath of relief when you saw that jungkook wasn’t around. he was definitely nearby, though, you had a feeling he wouldn’t let jiwon roam around with the puppy with anyone else.

you greeted, “hi jiwon! you’re up early.” it was about nine in the morning and if you were a kid, you would not be a morning person during summer vacation.

“yeah, oppa made me come with him,” she yawned extra loud, clutching her leash close.

to your right, jimin cleared his throat. “where is jungkook?” he asked.

“he’s avoiding y/n,” jiwon sang, like it was a normal thing to say out of the blue.

your ears turned pink. you thought the two of you were good. it’d been over a week since your dinner with him at the saloon. now come to think about it, since your last encounter, jungkook had yet to make another return to the farm to finish whatever gate he was repairing - you stopped keeping track at some point, just letting him come over and continuing to hope that he found something new to fix.

hoseok pinched his nose. “jiwon, you can’t rat my boy out like that,” he whispered, side-eying you, even though you could clearly see.

to add fuel to the fire, you noticed the way jimin was scoping his surroundings. his eyes narrowed over to a corner, where you finally saw jungkook talking to mayor kim. when you did so, he looked over and made eye contact with you for the briefest of seconds, before darting away. before you knew it, jimin began hollering.

“hey! jungkook! come here!”

“what are you doing?” you hissed, taking a step towards jimin’s booth. “i thought we made a truce, park jimin.”

“trust me, i’m helping you out.” jimin’s cheeky grin made you take a deep breath, holding back profanity for jiwon.

you weren’t sure if the boys knew anything about what was going on with you and jungkook. hell, you weren’t even sure what was going on with you and jungkook. ever since he began detatching, you’d become confused and kept second guessing if you said or did something wrong. maybe coming by his house randomly was weird, but he did the exact same thing. the way he randomly suggested taehyung as a date for you also sent mixed signals.

jungkook and mayor kim looked towards your direction, taken aback. then, jungkook gave the latter a polite smile, before walking in your direction. great.

“did you need help with something, jimin?” the tight-lipped smile and tone coming from jungkook indicated he didn’t want to help with anything at all.

jimin’s smile remained on his face, as he shook his head. “have you seen y/n’s, uh, cilantro? so fresh.”

you turned to jimin, dumbfounded, but also irritated that you got roped into the conversation. meanwhile, jiwon batted her eyelashes, looking back and forth between you and her brother. her innocent demeanour was almost convincing, but you knew you were dealing with a jeon here.

“oh, hi. i didn’t see you there, y/n,” jungkook said.

bullshit. your tablecloth was bright yellow, compared to jimin and hoseok using the same white for their booths. you were wearing red lipstick and a sundress. he definitely noticed you. this made your jaw tense, annoyed that jungkook was acting different out of nowhere.

“yup,” was all you could say, a dry tone settling in your voice.

jungkook raised his eyebrows. “late night or something?” he asked, as if your voice indicated fatigue.

“no.”

“your eyebags say otherwise.” usually, jungkook teased you with a certain playfulness, but he instead matched your dry tone.

hoseok immediately interjected, “oh, haha! ha - uh, haha!” he forced laughter out as if pushing with brute force, looking at you and jungkook strangely. the question in his eyes read what’s wrong with you two clear as day.

you shrugged and luckily at that very moment, a small family began walking in your direction and approached your booth. on the other hand, jungkook suddenly became fascinated with the infused syrups at hoseok’s table and found the energy to talk his ear off about the ingredients. you missed the way jiwon shot a dirty look at jimin, as if this was his fault.

“why are they acting weird?” jimin whispered to the smaller girl, as if buddies gossiping on the playground.

jiwon only rolled her eyes and huffed, walking away with peanut. she murmured things under her breath about adults being useless, wondering why she had to wake up early all to witness a dumpster fire between you and jungkook. she walked away, muttering to herself something about how she was determined to prove she was the only one with brains around here.

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sstrongstyletyle @wobblewobble822@taiwan0618 @seokout @firelcrds @xwniazx @shellyyy177

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Chapter 9: Intentions

Series: “Eat Your Heart Out ”Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,7k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings, canon divergence A/n: I know we're still not out of Su-zukana, but we're getting there. I probably won't follow everything that happens in the show. I will skip through some parts. Also I'm not super satisfied with the last scene no matter how many times I rewrite it, so I'm leaving it like this. (unedited)

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Hannibal and Will’s eyes lock in a silent duel, the latter’s gaze unforgiving, tinged with feigned ignorance. Will Graham wishes he could stop caring about what happened and what is yet to happen, but he can only pretend.

He studies the psychiatrist from head to toe, silently pleading for a sign from the universe that would reveal what sick ideas were brewing in his mind.

“You were able to reconstruct this killer’s fantasies,” Hannibal’s voice is almost a melody. “One dead creature giving birth to another. The bird, his victim’s new beating heart. Her soul given wings.”

Will’s gaze shifts away from the man before him, his mind conjuring the brutal image of Sarah Craber’s lifeless body, her eyes forever staring into the void. The way the psychiatrist describes it aligns with your words, and Will finds himself reluctantly agreeing. It’s a brutal kind of poetry, one that leaves an indelible mark on the soul.

“Rebirths can only ever be symbolic,” Will states, seemingly uninterested.

“You’ve been reborn.”

That piques his interest; he looks at Hannibal with raised brows. “Wasn’t that the goal of my therapy?”

A pregnant pause hangs between them as the other man carefully selects his words. Will finds it disappointing when the topic of conversation is swiftly shifted.

“How does it feel consulting again with Jack Crawford and the FBI? Last time, it nearly destroyed you.”

Will blinks rapidly and licks his lips in annoyance, a subtle sign of his inner turmoil. He knows he can’t allow his emotions to overpower him. Certainly not now.

“Last time, you nearly destroyed me,” he states the obvious. Hannibal’s gaze shifts to his hands lying in his lap, a subtle indication of his own contemplation.

“After everything that has happened, Will, you still believe—” his words trail off into silence as Will cuts him off swiftly, his voice almost amused.

“Stop right there.”

Hannibal blinks slowly, meeting the other man’s gaze head-on. Will notices he almost looks ashamed, but he’s not entirely convinced that the killer in front of him is capable of feeling anything, let alone shame.

“You may have to pretend, but I don’t,” Will asserts, his tone firm and unwavering.

Hannibal’s gaze softens, a glimmer of understanding flickering in his eyes. “No, you don’t,” he agrees, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity. “Not with me.”

There’s a subtle shift in the atmosphere, a moment of unspoken connection between them, despite the chasm of their differences.

“I don’t expect you to admit anything. You can’t. But I prefer sins of omission to outright lies, Dr. Lecter. Don’t lie to me.” Each word is enunciated with deliberate care, emphasizing the gravity of the statement.

As their eyes meet, the sunlight streams through the window, casting a golden hue that dances across their faces. The gentle rays illuminate the room, creating a warm and serene atmosphere despite the tension between them. The dim sunlight seems to linger, as if highlighting the intensity of their quiet exchange and emphasizing the gravity of the moment.

“Will you return the courtesy?” the psychiatrist’s question hangs in the air, awaiting a response.

Will remains silent, knowing that Hannibal will interpret his lack of response as agreement.

“Why have you resumed your therapy?” his voice is steady, probing for the truth.

“Can’t just talk to any psychiatrist about what’s kicking round my head.” Will replies, his tone casual yet guarded. Hannibal scrutinizes him closely, searching for any telltale signs of deception or sincerity.

“Does she know?”

“About me being back in therapy with you? Yes.”

“You know that’s not what I meant, Will. Does she know?”

Will sits in silence for an excruciatingly long moment, contemplating which pieces of truth he should divulge and which he should leave behind.

The room grows unbearably hot and airless, and his breath comes quick and heavy. He can feel his heart hammering against his chest, demanding to be let out. He’s struggling with a familiar feeling, the kind that threatens to overwhelm—to swallow him whole. And he’s powerless against it.

Finally, he finds the words, but they’re hardly a relief to the growing burden in his chest. “Yes.”

“What did you tell her, Will?” Hannibal’s voice carries more curiosity than anger. Will isn’t sure if he expected something more profound or revealing from his response.

“Everything.”

Hannibal’s eyebrows raise slightly in surprise, but his expression remains unreadable.

Will feels an intense urge to elaborate, to fill in the missing pieces, to explain the whole picture. But he bites his tongue, choosing to stay silent instead, to keep his secrets. Hannibal remains still for a moment, taking in the information, assessing Will and his answer.

After a while, he speaks, “Does she know why?”

“Hannibal, I don’t even know why you did what you did.”

“Perhaps you never will,” Hannibal replies cryptically, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement. His eyes narrow, piercing Will like a knife. “And yet, you came to me in spite of that.”

“You wanted her to come back. Why?” Will asks. He’s not going to give up that easily.

“Because she’s brilliant, Will. She understands people in ways no one ever has. She’s perceptive and intuitive, and she’s not afraid to stare into the abyss. I’ve been searching for such an individual for a very long time.”

“I reckon asking you to leave her alone would be futile,” Will suggests with a resigned tone.

“Indeed,” Hannibal acknowledges with a faint smile. “But I promise to handle the situation delicately.”

“Handle it delicately?” Will asks, unable to keep the surprise and amusement from his voice. He’s never expected such words from Dr. Lecter, not when it comes to you. “Can you promise me she’ll be safe?”

Hannibal hesitates for a moment, clearly weighing his answer before speaking. “I can promise you that I have no intention of harming her,” he replies, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “However, I am also aware that my intentions may not always be the most relevant factor when it comes to such matters.”

Will finds himself contemplating the psychiatrist’s words, feeling an intense frustration at the answer, despite knowing that Hannibal will never offer more. He wants to ask further questions, to keep digging for answers, but the words won’t form. He’s been given an answer. For better or worse, that will have to be enough.

He speaks, his voice barely registering above a whisper, “Thank you.”

“Do you fantasize about killing me, Will?”

“Yes.” Now, more than ever.

Hannibal raises an eyebrow, his eyes studying the other man carefully. The question hangs in the air for a silent moment, the two men locked in a tense staring contest. Will breaks his gaze, his eyes dropping to his lap. There’s an uncomfortably long pause, one that leaves him feeling more exposed than he ever has.

The psychiatrist speaks again, his voice carefully measured but still carrying a hint of curiosity, “Tell me. How would you do it?”

Will feels an intense surge of anxiety, the idea of sharing his murderous fantasies almost too much to bear. His heart beats rapidly, his breaths come short and shallow, and his palms are damp with sweat. He hesitates, taking a deep breath in an failed attempt to settle his nerves.

Finally, he answers, his voice trembling slightly as he speaks, “With my hands.”

“Then we haven’t moved past apologies and forgiveness, have we?” Hannibal studies his face quietly for a moment, his eyes scanning Will’s features, searching for any hint of deceit.

“We’ve moved past a lot of things. I discovered a truth about myself when I tried to have you killed,” Will says slowly, a hint of reluctance in his voice.

Hannibal’s gaze remains unwavering, a steady, almost calming presence. He’s unfazed by Will’s blunt statement, his face uncommonly relaxed as he listens.

“That doing bad things to bad people makes you feel good?”

Will blinks and nods, a tinge of surprise in his eyes. No one has spoken this truth before, not even himself. But the words seem to provide a sense of closure. There is no judgment, no criticism; merely a statement of fact, a mutual understanding.

“Yes.”

“I need to know if you’re going to try to kill me again, Will.”

“I don’t want to kill you anymore, Dr. Lecter.” The man swallows and shakes his head. “Not now that I finally find you interesting.”

There’s an intense silence between them, Hannibal’s face betraying no sign of shock or surprise at the confession. The man merely listens calmly, processing Will’s words as he studies the man’s every feature.

“Your honesty is both refreshing and concerning,” the psychiatrist says with surprising ease.

“Thank my wife. She makes an honest man out of me.”

As you lie asleep in your bed, the quiet of the night envelops you, broken only by the gentle hum of the old bedside lamp and the crackling of the fireplace. You’re lost in a dreamless slumber, your mind temporarily free from the weight of the day’s responsibilities. It’s probably the best sleep you’ve had in a while. Sadly, it doesn’t last long.

The shrill ring of your phone shatters the stillness, jolting you awake with a start. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you fumble for your phone on the bedside table, heart pounding with a mixture of confusion and apprehension.

With a groan, you swipe to answer the call, your voice husky with sleep as you mutter a tired, “Hello?”

On the other end, Jack’s voice crackles through the line, urgent and insistent. “Agent Avant, we need you at the crime scene immediately. There’s been a development in the case.”

The words cut through the fog of drowsiness, instantly sharpening your focus. You sit up in bed, running a hand through your tousled hair as you process Jack’s message. “What kind of development?”

“I can’t discuss it over the phone. I’ll send you the adress. Get here as soon as you can.”

“Understood,” you reply, your tone firm and decisive. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

With a sense of urgency, you throw off your covers and swing your legs over the side of the bed. You reach for your clothes, hastily dressing in the dim glow of the bedside lamp, your mind already racing with possibilities. You grab your badge and gun, slipping them into their accustomed places on your belt, and make your way to the door.

As you step out into the cool night air, you feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. Though weary from the abrupt interruption to your rest, you know that duty calls, and you’re ready to answer it with unwavering resolve, just like in the good old days.

With each step towards your car, you embrace the night’s unexpected summons, steeling yourself for the challenges that lie ahead. In the world of law enforcement, there’s no such thing as ordinary hours—only the relentless pursuit of justice, no matter the hour or the cost. Oh, how you hate it.

You slide into the driver’s seat of your car, the engine rumbling to life beneath you as you buckle up and prepare to head to the address Jack has sent you. You’re glad to have your own car back; depending on Will wouldn’t do you any good in situations like this.

Before pulling away, you instinctively reach for your phone, hoping for a message from your husband to ease your mind.

As the soft glow of the screen illuminates your face, you quickly navigate to your messages, heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and dread. But as you scan through the notifications, disappointment washes over you—there are no new messages from Will, and he isn’t home either.

A knot forms in the pit of your stomach, a nagging sense of worry gnawing at your thoughts. You remind yourself that Will was never one to provide constant updates on his whereabouts. He’s always been independent, often immersed in his work with little regard for the passage of time. Yet the silence from him tonight feels different somehow, unsettling in its absence.

Pushing aside your concerns for the moment, you tuck your phone back into your pocket and focus on the road ahead. There will be time to address your worries later, but for now, duty calls, and you must answer—no matter the personal cost. With a determined set to your jaw, you shift into gear and press on into the night. Having agreed to return to work for Crawford, you’re determined to give it your all.

“We found Sarah Craber’s grave and fifteen others,” Jack Crawford informs you the moment you step out of the vehicle.

“Fifteen?” you repeat, unable to hide the stunned note in your voice. You knew the killer had murdered others before Sarah Craber, but the discovery of fifteen additional victims is shocking on a whole different level. “How long has he been active?”

Jack’s face is grim, his expression somber as he speaks. “The earliest victim was buried eight years ago. The most recent grave is only two weeks old.”

You dare to focus your eyes on the crime scene behind your boss’ back. The sight in front of you takes your breath away—not in a good way.

The dim light of the night provides only limited visibility, casting the landscape in shadows and silhouettes. Yet, the shapes around you paint a clear picture, a horrifying image of a killer’s work.

You can see the dug-out graves, dotted here and there—the final resting places of his victims. You can see the rows of police tape, marking off a boundary that no one is allowed to cross. You can see the solemn faces of the technicians, the detectives, the forensics, and other members of the investigative team.

“Fucking hell, Crawford.”

There’s a beat of silent hesitation before he continues, “And I’m afraid it gets even worse—”

You look at him with wide eyes, annoyance bubbling up beneath the surface of your skin. “You said I didn’t have to look at the bodies. You said that to me, Jack.”

“I said you didn’t have to get close to the bodies,” he corrects you with a hint of irritation. “But you’ll have to see them, at least from a distance. We have to assess the situation, and you’re our best profiler. It’s your job.”

“I didn’t sign up for this.”

“Didn’t you? You came back to the agency. This is what we do. You know that.”

“Yes, I came back. But you said I wouldn’t have to see the bodies.”

Jack sighs, a hint of impatience in his voice. “I thought I could shield you from that side of it, but it’s not worth risking your expertise when you can make a valuable contribution here.”

You feel your blood boil as you duck under the police tape and head toward the graves. “Let’s just get this fucking done,” you mutter through gritted teeth, your frustration evident in every word.

As you make your way toward the nearest body, the reality of the situation begins to sink in. It’s one thing to know that a serial killer has been active in this community for years, but it’s a completely different thing to actually see the proof of his crimes. The graves offer no comforting illusion—they’re real, and they represent the brutal truth and senselessness of the killer’s actions.

As you gaze upon the rows of bodies, or rather what was left of them, a realization dawns upon you with striking clarity.

“They’re all women?” you remark, the observation coming swiftly and without hesitation as your eyes sweep over the somber landscape.

Each marker bears testament to the lives lost, their identities hidden by the earth until this moment. There’s a solemnity in the uniformity of the graves, a shared narrative of female lives cut short, each one a story untold and a voice silenced.

In that moment, amidst the hushed whispers of the wind and the solemn rustle of leaves, you can’t help but feel a pang of sorrow for the women who now rest beneath the earth, their stories lost to time but not forgotten.

“Alright, he got comfortable.”

“Too comfortable?” Jack questions, eyebrow raised, ready to find out if you’re close to catching the serial killer.

You nod in agreement. “Way too comfortable.”

When a predator becomes comfortable, it means they believe they’re in control. And when they’re think they’re in control, they’re more likely to make mistakes.

The killer’s overconfidence in his ability to evade detection is evident. He’s been operating for years, right under your noses, taking the lives of innocent women and burying them in shallow graves that are easy to uncover once people start paying attention. You realize that this killer has been playing a dangerous game long enough to develop a deep sense of hubris; he truly believes he’s invincible. Arrogance seeps from every part of his crimes.

“So, it’s not Peter Bernardone?”

You crouch nearby one of the dug-out holes and observe as a forensic inspects the decomposing body. “Tell me, Jack, does Peter Bernardone ooze arrogance?”

Jack ignores your snarky remark as he considers your question for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “I wouldn’t say so,” he decides. “Quite the opposite.”

“You really had to think about that one, huh?” You snort and shake your head in disbelief. “That man is a sheep, Jack. And this was done by a big bad wolf.”

Jack allows himself to crack a small smile at your analogy. “You’re right, this doesn’t fit Peter Bernardone; the arrogance doesn’t match the man. But there are a few others I have my eye on.”

“No, I don’t think he’s one of them.”

Jack raises an eyebrow. “I’m interested to know who you think it is then.”

“How the hell would I know?” you retort, shrugging your shoulders in frustration.

“Your job is to figure that out,” Jack scolds you, growing tired of your complaints and excuses. “So what are you going to do now, Agent Avant?”

“I—” you start, then stand back up with a sigh. “I will find a bottle of good booze to lull me to sleep today.”

Jack’s face softens at the joke, the slightest hint of a smile gracing his lips. “That sounds like a plan. I don’t suppose you’re going to share?”

“You’re welcome anytime, boss.”

Jack nods, then gestures for you to continue examining the bodies. “Go on. We’re not done here yet.”

“Thought sharing the booze meant we’re ditching,” you mumble in resignation.

“Not until we’re finished here.” Jack indicates the bodies in front of you. “This is hardly the kind of case where you can get drunk and call it a day, Agent Avant. We still have work to do.”

“Alrighty.”

When you return home, the cold seems to have intensified. You lock the car, clutching a bottle of cheap wine under your arm. Sure, you could have splurged on something better, but right now, good taste isn’t your priority. You are aiming for a one-way ticket to Drunkville, with fingers crossed that the morning hangover won’t be too punishing.

The cold air nips at your cheeks, the bottle of wine under your arm a tangible reminder of the purpose of your excursion. You seek a distraction, anything to divert your mind from the day’s grim events. Yet, even as you hum a lighthearted tune, your thoughts stubbornly gravitate back to the graves and the haunting visages of the deceased women interred in the damp soil.

A complex array of emotions churns within you—grief, anger, irritation... perhaps even a touch of admiration? It was an unsettling sensation, one that you had experienced all too often before.

You dare to look ahead, your eyes tracing the outline of the forest behind the house, barely visible in the darkness of the night. It’s a mistake.

As soon as your gaze settles on the trees, you hear a faint scream emanating from that direction. You try to convince yourself it’s just your imagination playing tricks on you, but you can’t shake the feeling of unease that settles over you.

The scream gives you pause, causing you to hesitate on the icy pavement. You entertain the fleeting thought that it might be your tired mind, but then it comes again—a desperate cry for help echoing from somewhere near the woods behind the house. The sound sends a chill down your spine, a stark reminder of your solitude in this desolate place.

Despite knowing better, your legs carry you forward through the clearing behind the house, drawing you closer and closer to the trees where the sound originated. The urgency in the scream compels you to move, your heart pounding in your chest as you approach the edge of the forest.

Your footsteps are unsteady on the icy ground as you pause just outside the woods, letting your eyes adjust to the darkness. The dense trees obscure your vision, and the faint light barely penetrates the forest, leaving your visibility limited to mere feet around you. You press on, determined to uncover the source of the distressing sound.

The screaming fades into silence, leaving only the sound of your own unsteady breathing echoing in the stillness of the night. You slip further into the woods, each step cautious and deliberate, the snow crunching under your boots. Despite the chill in the air, your clothes provide little warmth against the biting cold, and the shelter of the trees does little to shield you from the relentless wind.

The wind carries the cold air deep into your lungs, making your breath come out in cloudy puffs. Your coat offers little protection, and you feel the wind whistling through it, chilling your body to the core.

You take a few more steps, the trees growing thicker around you with each passing moment.

You pause, listening intently, trying to discern the direction from which the cries for help emanated. But in the silence of the night, your own heavy breathing is the only sound that reaches your ears.

The shrill of a scream shatters the stillness of the air, bursting through right behind your back, no more than a few feet away. It’s so loud that you instinctively cover your ears, feeling the jolt reverberate through your entire body.

In the chaos, the bottle of wine slips from your grasp, crashing to the ground and shattering upon impact with a nearby rock. Red wine splashes onto your boots and calves, staining the pristine snow with dark splotches.

You gape at the scene with wide eyes, heart racing in your chest as adrenaline floods your system. Your whirl around in an instant, your eyes scanning the area for any sign of the origin of the scream.

But the woods remain still, enveloped in an eerie silence, with only the moonlight filtering through the trees, casting shifting shadows that seem to dance around you. A shiver runs down your spine as you become acutely aware of just how isolated you are in this dark forest, surrounded by unknown dangers.

Your legs carry you as fast as they can, propelling you back the way you came, away from the ominousness of the forest. Panic surges through you, urging you to flee, to escape the darkness closing in around you.

Every step feels like an eternity as you race through the woods, your heart pounding in your chest, the echo of the scream still ringing in your ears. All you can think about is getting away, getting back to safety, away from whatever lurks in the shadows. Your senses are on high alert, every rustle of leaves and crack of twigs makes you jump.

The darkness seems to press in on you from all sides, suffocating and oppressive. Adrenaline courses through your veins, fueling your desperate flight through the underbrush.

You can’t see what’s behind you, but you can feel its presence, a looming specter haunting your every step. Terror grips you in its icy grasp, driving you onward, even as your legs threaten to give out beneath you. You push through the pain, pushing yourself to the brink of exhaustion in your frantic bid for escape.

You look behind you, but all you can see is darkness. You’re just about to reach the clearing when you collide with someone with so much force that it takes both of you down.

Your breath rushes out in a startled gasp as you scramble to disentangle yourself from the other person, heart hammering in your chest. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you push yourself away from them, scrambling backward on all fours until you’re a safe distance away. Panic surges within you, making your movements frantic as you try to orient yourself in the darkness. The shadows obscure the details, making it difficult to see who or what has you so rattled.

The person mutters your name in panic. It’s Will.

The instant you hear the familiar voice, you know that you’re safe—that whatever was chasing you is gone. You let out a shaky sigh and release the tension in your muscles, suddenly realizing how close you were to losing control of the situation.

But his sudden appearance leaves you confused, and you can’t help but ask, “What are you doing out here?”

“I heard your scream. Are you alright?” He stumbles in your direction in panic, hands outstretched to grab your arms.

The confusion only grows as you listen to his question, certain that you never made a sound. You didn’t scream, yet he’s insistent that he heard it. And even though you know your voice would be distinctive in the silence of the woods, he still seems to be under the impression that you were the one who called out for him.

“I didn’t scream,” you insist, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggle to make sense of the situation. “I heard it too, but it wasn’t me.”

You don’t know what to make of it, and the uncertainty makes your nerves flare. You start backing away from his touch, keeping an eye on him as you try to make sense of what’s happening.

“I don’t understand,” you murmur, your voice trembling slightly with a mixture of fear and confusion. “I didn’t scream. It wasn’t me.”

“What do you mean you didn’t scream?” He seems taken aback by your response, his gaze darting around as he tries to process what you’re saying. “I ran here as fast as I could after I heard you. Are you trying to tell me I imagined it?”

You can feel the tension in his voice, the confusion mirrored in his expression. There’s a palpable sense of urgency in his demeanor, as if he’s desperately trying to make sense of the situation.

You shake your head vigorously, repeating like a mantra, “It wasn’t me.”

“Then who was it?” He glances around the woods again, searching for clues in the darkness. “Who else could be out here?”

“Let’s go home,” you say, ignoring his question and rising to your feet with the help of his steady arms.

Your legs still feel shaky after the run through the woods, and you lean on his arms for support as you try to regain your bearings. The cold air nips at your cheeks, making it hard to breathe, and the sudden burst of adrenaline has left you feeling exhausted. You let him guide you toward the house, not wanting to spend another moment in the dark woods.

“Don’t ever let me near those woods again,” you mutter, the words tumbling out without thought. Your voice trembles with a mix of fear and frustration, the events of the past few hours weighing heavily on your mind.

As you take the final few steps toward the house, you’re grateful to be out of the forest, but a lingering unease gnaws at you. Something about the whole evening feels off, and the fact that Will is here only adds to your discomfort.

As his arms envelop you, you feel a creeping unease settle over you, intensifying with each passing moment. His embrace should be reassuring, but instead, it triggers a disturbing sense of déjà vu. In this moment, you find yourself unable to be reassured by anyone or anything.

His eyes seem to darken, and before your startled gaze, antlers begin to emerge from his head, a surreal and terrifying transformation unfolding before your eyes.

The longer he holds you, the more your anxiety mounts, until you can no longer bear it, pulling away sharply, desperate to escape the unsettling sensations gripping you. Blinking in disbelief, you look back at him, finding no trace of the eerie transformation you just witnessed.

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