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#like why am i not freaking out over other characters

kaivenom · 9 hours

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One piece DILFs asking you to live with them... HCS

(obviously, we know they sure have better houses than us)

Characters: Mihawk, Crocodile, Doflamingo, Smoker, Shanks.

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

Him living in a big island castle means that you already had many things on there and you spent many days with him on a row.

The other thing is that when you aren't on the castle, you both spent many time separated, due to his work and yours.

That times when he goes back to the castle and you aren't there and he has to ask you to come and wait days or even a couple of weeks to come, that's when he decides he needs you all the time.

You both were taking breakfast, he was reading a newspaper and you got up to heat your tea/coffe/milk.

"You should spent more time here."

"I already spend a lot of time here."

"Yeah, but i mean... all the time."

"Are you asking me to move in with you, permanently?"

"Kind of..."

He is a lonely, tough men, he really wants to come to the castle after his shichibukai job and find you, but leaving is rough exterior is difficult.

You got close to him and take out his newspaper, you give him a little kiss on the cheek and accept his offer.

Moving all your things from your village to his island was difficult and of course a little hard to explain to people, because you couldn't say you are dating that man.

But moving all your things was worthy, even when you already had a lot of your things there.

Sir Crocodile

He is a bussiness men, a very dangerous one.

He likes to spoil you with gifts and affection and since he has a lot of berries, he buys you so much clothes that you both decided to keep them in his house, so you already had clothes and other things there.

He is a little control freak of HIS things, so he hires people to follow you and keep you safe, as he says.

That makes you upset, so you confront him on his office.

"Why there are so many people following me?"

"I told that idiots to be discreet, i will fire them."

"That doesn't matter, why?"

"Because i like to keep my inversions safe."

"That's what i am? well, inversions are kept on hidden lockers, so what are you going to do next... lock me?"

"Do you want to live with me?" you didn't know how to answer, "you are more than an inversion and i will have peace on mind if you sleep every night with me and my security alarm."

You thought about it for a moment and nodded slowly, every second the idea sounded better.

You spent the night in his house and when you were the next day preparing yourself to go get your things, all of them were already on the front door.

Apparently your powerful bussiness boyfriend had sent his staff to broke into your house and get all packed.

Donquixote Doflamingo

He doesn't ask you, he informs you.

You had a really good night with him, there was a moment when he got jealous over a dude but after that everything was perfect.

When you both ended your night things, you decided to back to your house since you had to work early tomorrow.

You open the door and find that all your things were gone, you thought someone broke in, you were almost crying and were about to call Doflamingo (since he is the king of Dressrosa he is the better person to call)

Then a large figure appeared behind you.

"Hi little thing." your breath paused from the shock.

"Why are you here? You have something to do with these?"

"Of course, you really thought someone could break in my girl's house? do you think i would let you go home without my supervision?, you underestimate my possesiviness towards you."

"And why? you are mad because of that guy on the bar? that's why all my things are gone?"

"Partly yes, your things are not gone, they are on my palace," his arms lifted you from the ground, "seeing that stupid man made me realize that i need to keep a better eye on you... that's why this isn't your house anymore, so lets go home."

Even if you wanted, you couldn't say no, you don't know how are you going to adapt to these new change but you have no option.

Smoker

He is a marine, which means he is a very traditional man (on my perspective), under his rough marine reputation, he want's to do things right with you.

All marine officers have a big house provided by the goverment, he has a estable job, paid vacations and all the requirements to be a good choice partner to live with.

So after thinknig all of that, he decides to make a plan to ask you out.

He makes dinner for you both, not anything fancy, he is a direct man and he doesn't want you to think he is going to propose to you... yet.

The dinner was in his house, and was one of the best dates you both have, even if he couldn't cook the meal right.

"So, i was thinking... i am a man with a stable job, a high rank, a good salary, a good house."

"Are you going to propose?" you couldn't believe it, it felt like it was to soon.

"No, if i wanted to kneel with a ring i would have taken you to the best restaurant i could, like the Baratie or things like that."

"Who would have thought you are such a romantic man."

"I am not."

"Clearly, then what?"

"I am trying to ask you to move in with me."

"We both are marines, i have the same privileges as you."

"Yeah, but i am one rank higher than you, which makes me the one who would ask you to move in." he looks so proud about it.

"Fine, but what we do with my house?"

"We do the paperwork and we should receive a contribution for it and maybe we can't take our next vacations together to a nice island."

"You never take vacations, you love your job more than me."

"Believe me, if this happens, then we will take vacations together."

"Okey, then you should help me to move in, come on." you were already getting up to start moving, the excitement was making you not see things clear."

"I think we can do that tomorrow, now i want you to stay here." he took your hand and sat you on his lap.

Shanks

He is pretty fast to ask you in and well, moving in has two meanings: joining his crew and moving to his quarters.

The first one is really fast because he is a pirate and doesn't spent to much time on a village.

After trying to delay as much as possible his leaving while he thinks about asking you or not, he decides to give it a shot.

"(Y/N)-chan, do you want to live a big pirate life?" he says while passing his arm around your shoulders with a big smile, he looks like he is trying to recruit you to a cult.

You accept and now you are a part of the crew, you have your own quarter on the ship and you like being with the crew.

After a couple of months, you start getting involved with your captains, you were worried about what your crewmates would think about it.

He is worried too, he knows that everything is all fun and with no strings while you both have your different spaces. He knows once you moved permanently to the captain quarter, it would be official and irreversible.

That situation lasted a couple of weeks more till he couldn't wait anymore.

"Hey, sit down," he was waiting for you with a cup of sake, "i konw we've been doing things."

"If that's what you want to call it, then i am dissapointed."

"I mean, this isn't official to the rest of the crew and the world, even if it is to me," he interviewed his fand to yours, making you see you are important to him, "and i don't know if you are ready to take the next step, cause if you do, you will be known as "Akagami Shank's partner," he makes a dramatic pose, before going back to his serious face, "i want you to move to my quarters, if you want to be publicy known as..."

"Yes, i want, even with your stupid snores and your cold feet, i would like to sleep next to you every day."

"Ahhhh, how great it's to hear that... i don't know what i have done if you said no." he gave you a kiss got back to his dramatic being again.

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twi-liight · 9 months

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Petty Jealousy ❣

Tav's companions cannot fathom them potentially having other friends. ❥ Astarion/reader, Astarion/Tav, but also Companions/reader. I'm a Tavrem supremacist. ❥ Contains my own personal headcanon for why the companions call them "Tav" instead of their first name, which is justification for me loopholing the eternal problem of xreader writers having to wince when they use "F/N" or "Y/N". ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav/reader!

“Look,” Astarion hisses, “look at that!”

5 pairs of eyes land on the offender of the night (which, to their surprise, isn’t Astarion) who conversed pleasantly with the leader of their party. A half-elf with a sharp jaw, proud brow, and mirthful eyes looks extraordinarily ordinary compared to their merry band of freaks.

“Who is that, again?” Shadowheart asks absently. “Tav suggested I rest for today instead of mapping out the Underdark with the party, and the next thing I know, they’ve brought back another little companion.”

Astarion’s jaw twitches. He snaps out, “Companion or complication?”

Gale crosses his arms, shrugging, used to Astarion’s temper running hot then cold. “His name is Nilmorn - a luthier. Tav took an interest in his wares. He makes a living selling stringed instruments in the Underdark. Strange place to sell such things.”

Ugh. Astarion sighs, shaking his head. Leave it to Gale to traipse over the obvious. A sharpened mind like his would surely know that this Nilmorn has no place here, if not to be a bloodbag for him to slurp on. Beyond that, what use does this pretty boy have? Nilmorn sells wares that are utterly useless to them. He’s quite boring and one-dimensional, too, a character that strays too much into the side of “moral good” for Astarion to tolerate.

“Yes, yes, Gale, but have you considered how strange it is that he has invited himself to our camp?” Astarion flares out his hand towards the wizard, as if handing him common sense on his palm.

“I,” Gale begins, blinking his wet, beautiful brown eyes at Astarion, “invited myself to this journey, Astarion. I am quite hurt you forgot. I thought what we had was special!”

“Yes, but you’re weird!” Astarion exclaims. “You’re a freak with a bomb in your body because of your situationship with Mystra! That,” Astarion points an accusatory finger in the direction of Nilmorn, in which 5 pairs of eyes look at him again, “is someone so unbelievably normal he doesn’t even have any, any…” He gestures, articulates with his hands to placate his words.

“No dubious motives?” Shadowheart offers, a smirk coyly playing on her lips.

“No complicated backstory?” Wyll pipes in. Astarion’s eyes flicker to him, and irritation seeps into his skin when he finds Wyll smiling wryly, as if the warlock is in on some joke he is not picking up on. “No, I don’t know, god that has let him down in some way, shape, or form?”

“Certainly no skills for fighting.” Lae’zel, thank the gods for Lae’zel. Her smooth voice hides none of her displeasure, and those sharp, slitted eyes stare across the fire to dig daggers into Nilmorn’s back. “Useless. We have no need for string-ed instruments. Let Tav pick one, and send this half-elf on his way.”

Yes. Yes. Astarion nods eagerly.

“Hmmm. I almost envy his mundaneity,” Karlach adds, “but I mean, he’s not that bad, Astari. Man’s just trying to make the world a better place, one string at a time.”

Astarion almost throws up. He looks to the other companions helplessly. “Darlings. Please tell me you are not going to let Karlach get away with saying something so putridly motivational.”

Karlach tosses her head back and cackles, much to Astarion's chagrin.

“Something is obviously bothering you,” Shadowheart states bluntly. Her green eyes watch his expression carefully in the firelight; she finds something there, but does not say it outright. With an exhale through her nose, as if it is painful for her to attempt a conversation with him, Shadowheart decides to throw him a bone: “Are you jealous?”

He does not catch the bone. The bone slams right into his head as he stares at Shadowheart, slack-jawed and scandalized. Him? Jealous? “You must be joking.”

“Aw,” Shadowheart croons, another one of her insufferable smirks toying on her lips, “you are.”

If he had mindflayer powers beyond reading her reprehensible surface-level thoughts, he would make Shadowheart’s head explode. Or something.

He must establish his dignity in the group once more. He cannot handle more of this, especially not with Wyll grinning so wide, not self-aware enough that if he did not have a sexy demon controlling his life because he didn’t read the terms of conditions of a motherfucking contract, Astarion would bully him more.

“That is not the point here. Look,” he says. “I am just saying that our Tav is desirable in every way. Physically, we can all agree that Tav is attractive. Yes?”

Yes. They all nod their heads.

“Tav is a little strange, but they are our leader, and they got us this far somehow. Who knew caring about other people could go a long way.”

Yes. They all nod their heads, except Wyll and Karlach, who look amongst the group with sheer disappointment on their faces. “Gods,” Karlach groans into her hand, “we– we need to unpack that later, gang. That’s just really sad.”

“Lastly, Tav is strong. Strong enough to split apart the mountains and the sky, I imagine.” Strong enough to bury Cazador into the ground, hopefully. “Strong enough to face a god unwaveringly. Strong enough to persevere. Strong enough to be kind, despite everything. Despite what they think, they are charismatic, and they are the entire package. The only person who does not know of their value is Tav themselves.”

They watch Tav’s lips quirk into a smile as Nilmorn holds a lyre out for them upon his smooth hands. Smooth, no sign of scars, no sign of complications. Just so unbearably mundane. Unbearably good. Unbearably kind.

Unbearably unaware of their true nature.

Nilmorn does not know why they nicknamed them Tav, despite their name being [F/N]. Their unstoppable quench to loot everything and anything set back their timeline by weeks, no doubt. Reaching into barrels, reaching into the pockets of bandits, reaching into damn silk cocoons, reaching into whatever their curious little hands can salvage. It annoyed Astarion at first, but then Tav would find all of these weapons and armors and foods and coins and books. Normalcies and luxuries that made camp life feel less of a drab and more exciting.

The gleaming, golden dagger at his side? They found it. The boots, the armor, the enchanted rings and necklaces they either found, bartered, or killed for their companions. Thus - Tav, short for tavara, the word meaning wares and merchandise; a clever little nickname Gale came up for their leader who is too good for all of them combined.

“Any other party could whisk them away, you know,” Astarion says. “Tav could find a party of good, decent people, unlike any of us, without the mess and complication and hurt we cause them, and leave. Remember, my dears. It is not us who is irreplaceable. It is Tav.”

How long would Tav tolerate him? Not long, he thinks. Long enough until he has expended his use for them, surely, but not forever. That's why anyone who wants Tav beyond sex or strength is a threat. If he hadn’t seduced his way into their heart, he wouldn’t be here where he stands, with a group of people who make him feel a little less alone.

No doubt he would be in a cage on the back of a covered wagon that belongs to that disgusting gyr, Gandrel, his chain to Cazador growing shorter and shorter.

Silence. Tense and still. They watch as Tav laughs lightly, eyes alighting with amusement as Nilmorn cracks another joke.

"You should meet my other companions," they hear Nilmorn offer, "I just know they would love to have you."

Revelation slams into each and every one of them like a magic missile.

“He’s not that funny,” Shadowheart mutters. She bends down, hands gripping tightly around the handle of her mace. “I don’t know why they are laughing that hard.”

“He can try to leave with his head on his shoulders,” snarls Lae’zel, “just say the word, Astarion.”

Excellent.

“What-” Wyll turns to Gale and Karlach. “We should stop them, shouldn’t we? There are no implications of this man trying to steal Tav away, he's just being nice, you worthless cunts! This is not fair to him!”

“We’re in the Underdark, aren’t we? Super deep. Doubt anyone who cares for him will come looking for him.”

“Karlach!”

“Astute observation! To make this all a little easier on us, I can most certainly put this man to sleep.”

“Gale?!”

“Go on, Lae’zel,” Astarion grins wickedly, “attack!”

“Oh, hells,” Wyll stumbles back, then turns quickly to the other direction towards Halsin. “Halsin! Halsin - they’re trying to murder someone again!”

❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion x you #gale x reader #gale x you #shadowheart x reader #shadowheart x you #lae'zel x reader #lae'zel x you #karlach x reader #karlach x you #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #baldur's gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x you #poor nilmorn. just wanted to sell his lil instruments. dies because he smiles too prettily

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bananami · 4 months

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STFUATTDLAGG

character/s: choso kamo x afab!reader

SYNOPSIS: meangirl!reader x loser!choso is a pairing that lives in my head rent free so when you all voted for choso to be the next hot man i wrote for i knew this was what would come out of it so let’s get into it whores

WARNINGS: this is college based bc u know why. 18+, nsfw, mdni, the whole shebang, kiddos avert ur eyes IT'S ALL SMUT / also just be aware i did use fem language for reader. as always, i did not proof read xxx

A/N: delusion is like drugs for simps, and i am the crackhead

Choso isn't like a nerdy loser, more like he’s just an emo boy, he’s got that alternative look going on and in a school full of preppy rich kids he stands out like a sore thumb. Of course this leads to some not so nice kids being not so nice to him, to which like he literally could not care less. He pays no mind to what anyone thinks of him beyond of course what his brothers think of him.

And as much as people aren’t nice to him, they do not fuck with him directly, lowkey scared of his reactions. Especially following a specfic incident in which someone tried to pick a fight with him. At first he was going to just let it slide but then they said something rude about Yuuji and this man laid them out. People were sent to urgent care and everything. Choso was put on suspension and almost kicked out, but their family friend is a lawyer and threatened to sue the school and anyways (if you know who you know who) so he was allowed back at school and everyone’s a little weary of him. This doesn’t stop the mean comments from coming.

And you. You’re no exception. You made fun of him every chance you got. The way he always did his hair in that weird double bun updo, or how he had his nails painted black, his various piercings and tattoos, the way he dressed so much different, was so much different, than any of the other guys you knew at school.

And you were so disgustingly attracted to him. While everyone would sneer and make fun of him and you played along, in reality you were internally berating yourself.

Choso did his best to ignore you but to be honest in the end you were just too fun to mess with. He thought it was cute how you thought you could hurt his feelings, how you really tried, and didn’t realize that he had a thing for brats and that’s just what you were. Everyone else was too afraid to say it straight to his face ever since the fight except for you.

One time he caught you staring at him and he couldn’t help himself, leaning over with a careless smirk. "If you spent less time staring at me and more time paying attention to the lecture maybe you wouldn’t be failing the class."

"Fuck you, Choso.”

"You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You hoped he’d mistake your embarrassment for anger. He didn’t. You snapped back, as usual. "Maybe if you didn’t dress like such a freak, you’d actually have some friends.”

"Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch your boyfriends would actually stick around for longer than a few months."

The one stung, and you tried not to let it show. Thrown off your game, all you could bring yourself to reply back was: “don’t call me a bitch.”

He shrugged, as though he were bored with the conversation already. "I never said it was a bad thing, just that you keep dating dudes who can’t handle you."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He doesn't answer though, and you spend way too much time thinking about what he could've meant. Was he implying that he could handle you? Was that why he constantly found ways to poke at you? Did he like when you were a brat? Did it matter if he liked it? It led your fantasies down a deep and dark rabbit hole that you spent weeks harping on.

Things get even worse after you realize that Choso might’ve been right about your grades slipping and staring at him in class and whatnot. And (for plot reasons of course) that would mean your professor paired you up with him for the final project so that you’d stand a better chance at passing the class.

Which is how you find yourself standing outside of his apartment door, debating how much you need to actually pass the course for your degree. You kept coming to the same conclusion. You definitely needed to.

"You just gonna stand at my door like a creep or can you move so i can let you inside?” He stood at the top of the staircase up to his apartment, watching you with another bored expression.

You're reaction is second nature. "I’m the creep? How long were you just standing there watching me? Maybe I’d already knocked and you didn’t answer so I was waiting. Let’s get on with it, I don’t need anyone seeing me hanging around-”

"Alright relax, princess. No one’s around to hear you act like you hate me. Come inside and I’ll grab us something to drink.” He opened the door to let you both inside, holding it open for you to enter first.

"First off, I do hate you. And second, how do I know you’re not going to poison me?”

"Don’t worry, I wouldn’t poison you. The plan was going more in the direction of choking.”

"Choked to death? Good to know.”

"You implied killing. All i said was choking.”

"Oh, gross.” You groaned. You pushed away the images that were brought to your mind. Choso's hand around your throat, fingers in your mouth, his breathy whispers telling you what else he'd have you choking on by the end of the night.

It's not too bad for the first few hours. You start out working on the project in the living room, but Choso’s neighbors are loud as all hell and you eventually ask if you guys can move into a room away from that shared wall. And (of course for plot purposes) that would be his bedroom.

"Your bedroom is exactly as I pictured it would be."

"This is the part where I make fun of you for picturing what my bedroom looks like."

"Yeah weird and creepy, just like you.”

"Your insults are getting less and less creative.”

"Yeah well….shut up.”

He’s surprised at that, usually you’d come back at him with something witty and clever and he actually enjoyed it.

It’s quiet and he’s sitting at his desk while you lay casually on his bed when he decides now’s as good a time as ever, and he might never actually get you alone again to say it.

"You ever gonna admit that you find me attractive or keep lying to the both of us?"

You wince. "I don't find you attractive. Stop flattering yourself."

"You flatter me enough with all the staring and drooling you do over me in class."

"You're obsessive," you snap at him.

"At least i can admit it."

You're caught off guard, stuck between wanting to ask what he means and not wanting to give in to the obvious baiting he's doing. When he throws the study material down on to his desk and plops down in front of you on his bed, it seems like he's resigned to not giving you that choice.

"Tell you what, I'll tell you all of the dirty and depraved things I think about on a daily basis, and you can decide after whether you'd like to share those same thoughts of yours with me or not."

"Why would I want to hear any of the thoughts in your head?"

"Because a lot of them revolve directly around you." He's leaned so close you're almost touching one another. Your silence is enough to spur him on. "I think you've never been fucked properly before."

You can't contain the look that falls on your face. "Seriously? This what you think about? My sex life is none of your business, but I'm doing just fine in that department, thank you very much."

He ignores you. "I don't think you've ever been told to shut the fuck up and take it like the good girl I know you can be." That shut you up real quick. Choso is on his knees in front of you, hands cupping around your neck, his thumbs running across your cheeks. "You're whiney little fucking attitude not do it for your boyfriends?" He teased. "They not know how to deal with you when you're being a brat, huh?"

You're head moves without conscious effort, nodding to agree with him.

"You just want some attention, don't you?"

Another nod.

"You want my attention, don't you?"

Hesitation. But you can't help yourself, his presence looming heavy over you, pushing you to admit what you'd kept in the dark for so long.

One of his hands slithers from your throat, down your chest, under the sweats you threw on in a rush to get to his apartment. You're so distracted by his fingers that you don't notice his face moving closer until his mouth is prying yours open. That's all it takes from him to have you stroking your fingers through his hair, pulling it out of the buns they typically are held in.

"Such a little brat." He's hovering over you, pushing your hips into the soft cushion of his bed with his. "Feel how hard it makes me?" He teases as he grinds his hips down, his clothed cock sliding against your center. Your eyes flutter and he grips onto your face with one hand, squeezing firmly. "You're gonna fuck me tonight. Nod if you understand."

You can't believe how quick your head moves up and down. "You're gonna take off those pretty little panties you wore hoping I'd get to see and slide up and down my dick until I tell you to stop. I don't want you cumming until I feel you've begged enough."

It takes no time at all for him to flip the two of you and prop himself up on his forearms. His pants are shimmied off and thrown to his bedroom floor alongside yours.

Your hands are desperate to line him up, anticipation building to have him deep inside of you, but his shoot out to pull them up and place them against his chest. "No, no, no. You don't get me inside you yet, not until you prove to me you deserve it." He urges you along his shaft, flat against his stomach. "That's right, be a good little slut for me and let me feel that pussy slide against my dick."

You watch him from above, his face contorting from concentration to pleasure to near desperation. You've never felt as powerful as you did riding him. Not a single one of your boyfriends ever turning you on as much as Choso was right now. He made you work for it, praising you when you did what he asked, and you chased that praise.

"Shit, look at that baby," he grabbed your hair and yanked your face down to watch yourself slide against him. "Need to feel you squeeze that pussy around me. Fuck, slide me in, slide me in-" his loud groans matched your high pitched sound of relief at having him seated inside you. "Fuck this."

He flipped the two of you back over, gripping each of your legs and forcing them up. "Hold right under your knees for me. Good girl, keep yourself open for me, let me just use you." He fell to his forearms as he plowed into you, giving you no time to get used to any sort of pace.

You tried your best to hold your legs, but you wanted so badly to touch him. One of your hands wandered back up into his lose hair.

He could barely keep his eyes open, mumbling all kinds of truths you were sure he would've kept locked inside had he not been so drunk on the feel of being inside you. "So fucking pretty," he kissed you sloppily, "such a stupid fucking brat, just needed my cock inside you. Feel like heaven, baby. Gonna let me cum inside your little cunt, right? Made me wait so fucking long to have you, I deserve it. Don't I deserve it?"

You can barely form any coherent words, setting for nodding and breathy uh huhs.

"So fucking mean to me, and look how good I'm being to you, huh?" You feel the light slap of his head against your cheek. "Say your sorry, beg me to cum inside your pussy."

You do beg, your apology comes out in between the stuttering and slurring of your words, but you beg and plead with him until he concedes. It his own orgasm that pushes you over, his groans and relentlessness that follow, pushing himself passed the point of no return. You can see the beginning of what looks like tears in his eyes, and he has to force himself to stop, his hips jerking from the overstimulation.

He kisses you ruthlessly, letting his tongue claim your mouth in a manner more harsh than it is anything else. And when he pulls away and his eyes settle back on yours they're equally as harsh.

"No more shitty little boyfriends that can't handle you. I'll handle you. You want my cock, you ask nicely. Understand?"

"Yes," you let your lips peck his, surprising him, "what if I don't wanna be nice about it?"

He smirks, "try it and find out. Now get on your knees and suck my cock like the good girl I know you can be."

#choso x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #choso smut #jjk choso #choso x you #choso x female reader #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso

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zoe-oneesama · 11 days

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Why does the fandom think Nathalie cares about Adrien? She's always all monotone indifference and "this is what your father says/wants". Yet the fandom likes leaving Adrien in her care post-hawkmoth sometimes? If you're really gonna read into things like that let's praise the one adult who DOES care about him- his bodyguard! Remember how the mere sight of him was enough to calm him down enough to thwart Hawkmoth's intentions in the gigantitan episode?

But no seriously I'm so bad at noticing these things- why do people think she cares about more than Gabriel?

Welp, she is the reason Gabriel let Adrien go to school according to Origins Part 2, and then we got the Great Hiatus to let that one tiny moment of feelings sit and fester in the fandom brain.

And Season 5 definitely did it's hardest to frame Nathalie as Here For Adrien, so it's like the whole series is bookended by That version of Nathalie.

But I get the confusion, Nathalie's been all over the damn place. Different Seasons characterize her almost like adjacent sister versions of herself? Like not a TOTALLY different person, but different enough that I'm worried about body snatchers lol. I pretty much compartmentalize Nathalie according to the season:

Season 1 - Belligerent Assistant who's job description does not and should not include taking care of her boss's son yet here she freaking is.

Season 2 - Reveal that she's totally In-The-Know, her indifference has reached knew levels of being just outright negligent, she is officially culpable.

Season 3 - Team Rocket era where she is fully into the evil dramatics. Also the gross fun addition of her officially being In Love™️with her boss and being angsty about it despite her bringing it upon herself. Also girl he's so crusty get some standards.

Season 4 - Bedridden bionic woman. Was it worth it? WAS IT WORTH IT?!

Season 5 - Pissed off divorcee era. She is actively picking fights and weaponizing the children at her not-ex, and while I'm side eyeing the last 4 seasons, I am here for this level of sass while she scoffs at Gabriel being his Worst Self™️. Too bad about the whole Dying thing but hey. You gotta make up for...all of that other stuff, right?

She's just kinda doomed to not be a cohesive character. I do like her heel turn in Season 5, especially because she was RIGHT, Gabriel had THE OPPORTUNITY to save not only Emilie but also Nathalie and threw it away because he wants to throw hands with teenagers. I too would walk away after that spectacular display of failure. I kinda wish she had someone to talk to, like even Duusu, just to explain that the only reason she hasn't exposed Gabriel altogether is because he'd definitely expose her as well and then Adrien'd be left alone. Like it's easy to infer that, but in a kids show, stuff like motivations kinda need to be laid out neatly.

Cuz otherwise it leaves it open ended - is she covering to spare Adrien from being essentially orphaned, or is she covering to save her own ass? After the 5ish versions of her, either interpretation is fair.

#nathalie salt #writing salt #ml salt

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alyakthedorklord · 9 months

Text

Bat Poker Face Training

Dick, Steph, Cass, Tim, and Jason all crammed into someones room, with a kidnapped Duke sitting awkwardly with them, kinda scared.

Duke: “Uh… what’s going on?”

Steph, completely blank faced and standing ominously in the corner: “It has come to our attention that you require training.”

Duke: “Bruce is already teaching me really well-“

Jason, also blank faced: “That’s bat training. This is robin training.”

Cass, carefully but without a single emotion: “Sibling training.”

Dick, face just as blank as all his other siblings: “It’s much more fun.”

Duke, freaked out by the empty faces: “Am I being hazed?”

Jason: “Eh, maybe. Scared?

Tim, not giving Duke a second to reply: “Yes, he is. It’s written all over his face. And while its okay to be scared, sometimes hiding your true emotions in the field is a matter of life, death, and secret identities.”

Dick: “You’re going to be flustered. Humiliated. Terrified. Angry. Relieved. Your vigilante ID dragged through the mud in front of you as a civilian. Someone worried about your civilian ID and you need to keep them away.“

Tim: “Not just as a Bat, but a Wayne. Some dinosaur at a gala is going to say the most out of pocket thing you’ve ever heard in your life and you’ve just got to stand there.”

Duke: “So that’s the reason you’re doing the creepy thing?”

Steph: “Yes Duke. You need to have a poker face that Even Superman can’t break. That even a Fifth-dimensional Imp can’t crack! And that is the purpose of our training tonight!”

Duke, getting the program now: “Okay. I’m ready.”

Jason, allowing a creepy grin to slide over his face: “Don’t be so sure. Because what we are about to show you… it has broken Batman.”

Dick: “Damian is too innocent to see it, which is why he isn’t here.”

Steph: “If you can handle this, you can handle anything.”

Tim, tapping on his computer, chanting under his breath: “the horrors, the horrors, the horrors…”

Duke, terrified of what Tim is about to pull up, on the edge of his seat wondering what on earth can shake the Bat of Gotham, what the family considers too awful for thier arguably LEAST innocent member to see, what vile images he’s about to be shown…

Tap. The screen lights up white.

Duke: “No.”

Jason, grin widening: “We’ll be reading this aloud, for your entertainment.”

Duke, trembling and inching towards the door: “No.”

Steph, vice grip on Duke’s arm: “There’s no escaping it, Signal. This is your mission- to stay completely pokerfaced through Real Person Fanfiction of us- the Batfamily. And co, of course.”

Duke, sobbing: “Please, why… why would you do this to yourselves… oh god, is that… is that… is that Kate with Bruce? She’s a lesbian! And his cousin!”

Steph: “They don’t know that, Duke. They know nothing. And the depths of a human imagination is comparable to the depths of the ocean… there’s some weird shit down there.”

Tim, without a single emotion on his face, least of all mercy: “I had to sit through Young Justice fawning over Dick and Bruce. Do you know what they said? About my own father figure? Right in front of my salad? I was lucky I was wearing a mask. I cried, and I cried in silence. They knew NOTHING, because I showed nothing. This is what you must achieve.”

Jason: “I’ve had to listen to criminals talk about what they’d do to the ‘Prince of Gotham’ and not twitch. I’ve had to listen to both goons and civilians play fuck marry kill with our vigilante identities and not move a muscle. I know this feels like overkill, but trust me, it’s not.”

Dick: “Don’t worry, we’ll keep it mostly PG. Tim? Begin with the wildly out of character and aggressively heteronormative Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman love triangle. Then maybe we’ll work our way up to slash readers and…” shudders in horror, “…batcest.”

Duke: “NOOOOOOOO!!!”

#jason goes all out #theater kid dreams #and torturing his younger sibs #batfam #they make a game of it #who breaks first #bruce hates this game so much #damian walked in on them once #batfamily #dc prompt #tim drake #stephanie brown #duke thomas #dick grayson #jason todd

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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months

Note

Ghost king danny goes on a reincarnation vacation to the dc universe by ClockWork, he ends up as a mortician/coroner and chats up the dead and is super creepy and has to go to Arkham to claim a body there (idk how-) and ends up freaking out the prisoners but also makes some friends and is just all around having a good time and Batman is concerned why this guy just feels weird and why Jason likes him enough to call him a friend

"This is Daniel Fenton." Bruce starts clicking the button on his wrist computer so an image of a young man in his early twenties appears on the hologram. "He is the mortician working at Gotham Funeral Home and Crematorium. Recently, he has been the talk of the underworld for his actions in Arkham."

"Actions?" Tim asks, reading over the files that Bruce had downloaded into their own wrist computers. He pauses at the old-school photo of Daniel Fenton smiling shyly at the camera. Two rows below him is Jason's equally bashful smile when he was fourteen.

Huh.

"A patient was found dead in her room. Daniel went over to claim the body, but while there, he made a few of the inmates uncomfortable." Bruce pulls up a security camera footage of Fenton strolling down the hall, pushing the cart with the body covered by a white sheet.

The way his lips are shaped tells the Bats he whistles even if there is no sound.

It looks normal- even if he seems just a tad too cheerful for picking up a dead person- until he passes by Two-Face's room. The man flipped his quarter and then started shouting at Fenton.

They couldn't make out his words, but whatever the mortician said had Two-face laughing so hard he fell to the ground.

Then, the camera glitched as if there were some kind of interference. They watched it clear up with Fenton walking away and Two-Face sitting on the ground, staring at a wall with a blank expression.

"What happened?" Dick asks.

"It's unclear what Fenton did to him, but Harvey has been unresponsive since. This was three days ago."

"Shit," Steph swears, which pretty much sums up everyone's thoughts.

"Yeah, Danny has that effect on people," Jason speaks up, shrugging his shoulder at the looks he receives. "What? Danny has always been weird, but I doubt he is dangerous."

"You are acquainted with Fenton?" Damian asks, and Jason shrugs again.

"We were in the same graduating class. I spoke to him more after I died and came back, but I wouldn't meet up with him for a drink or anything."

"You don't drink."

"Exactly, Timbos."

Bruce clears his throat. "In any case, I want you all to keep an eye on him."

"B, seriously, the guy is harmless. He cried the other day over a book character's death-"

"How would you know that?" Cass cuts Jason off, a teasing smile on her face even though her eyes are narrowed with suspicion.

"We're in the same book club. Not another word." Jason grunts.

Dick, who has been staring at the class photo that Tim has seen, snaps his figures. "I know him! He's the weird kid who told people he was the reincarnation of the Ghost King on vacation! Claimed he was a powerful afterlife entity. Didn't you get caught with him behind the bleachers, Jason-"

"Shut it Dickface!" Jason screeches face a bright red suddenly. " That was one time, and I was fourteen!"

Bruce's frown is suddenly more profound. "I had forgotten about that particular detention. Jason, are you compromised for this mission?"

"What!? I am not!" The second oldest yelled, balling his hands "In fact, I bet I could get Danny to tell me what he did!"

"Good. Go get that done." Dick waves his hand at him in a dismissive motion. "Don't come back without the little crazy mortician's number."

Tim smiles as Jason explodes, but his eyes never leave Heavy Dent's image on the security camera. There is something about the way his eyes are hazy that set bells off in his head.

He is sure he sees flashes of green on Dent's pupils. He saw similar flashes in a file inside the League of Assassins while searching for Bruce.

It was the warning of ghosts.

Was Fenton's teenage lies not so fatuous after all? He'll have to investigate.

Master Post Link

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #The Ghost King's Fibs #Basically Danny is on vacy as a reincarnation #and told EVERYONE about it but no one believed him #Jason did in fact get caught kissing Danny behind the blechers #Dead on Main #Tim's sharp mind seeing the dots that others need to connect #Is Danny dangerous?#Who knows?

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chrollohearttags · 17 days

Text

nsfw alphabet • ace: anal training

anal play, sex toys, oral sex, spit play, choking, backshots, creampie, squirting

word count: 2.4K

📝: reposting bc why not? as you can see, this is a lil mini series I’m doing with all my fav eaters characters. if this flops, it never happened and I’m never posting again lmao

ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :

“What the fuck is this?”

Blurting out almost instantaneously as you stumbled into a laugh. Brandishing the tiny red box in your hand, you’d remove the contents and spin it around between your fingertips. “It’s a gift for you..do you like it?” Your fiancé couldn’t have been more unserious at the moment but something told you by that dumb ass grin and smug look plastered across his face, he was very much so! “It’s certainly..a gift. Are you trying to tell me something?..” “I mean, you’d look so pretty in it…and maybe I wanna try a little something new. What do you think?”

Manspread on the couch, subtly rubbing his own thigh as to quell his obvious hard on, Ace would flash you that smile once more, in hopes of softening you and getting his lady on board with this idea. The ‘new thing’ in question was none other than some exploration of the other end, in other words, anal sex..which, to be fair, wasn’t exactly level five, uncharted territory you’d never cross. It was just more so something the two of you had never done before and needless to say, he was excited to give it a go. “You mean to tell me you’ve never thought about it?” The thought of claiming that part of your body excited Ace..the prospect of exploring every hole all at once had him ready to pounce right now but he’d bide his time. “Because I have…a lot.” You two had been in candid talks of different things you’d wanted to try in the bedroom. Not so much from a lack of excitement but just seeing what you guys enjoyed and didn’t. You’d been testing out different kinks here and there and it had done wonders for your already exciting sex life. “Well it’s not like it’s at the forefront of my brain but..I heard it feels really good.” From being tied up to using food and ice on each other. There was no limit as to what you’d do. Twisting around on your fingertips was the red jeweled butt plug he’d purchased for you to wear. In the same bag, there were anal beads, lube and a dildo. All of which he planned to use. “I mean, it is cute….” Eventually, that gap of space closed between the two of you and your hand was resting on that very thigh, trailing its way up to his growing erect as you leaned in to subtly kiss him. Your faces eventually met for a few light pecks and he’d gloss over your cheek with his thumb. “Then I take that as a yes.” He’d all but tried to tug you into his lap and caress those beautiful legs..he had a feeling that the two of you were going to have tons of fun with this! “You’re a freak, you know that?” “I know..exactly why you’re marrying me. Am I right?”

ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :

“Oh fuuuck…just like that, baby. Suck me up.” It wasn’t even a full two hours later before his obscene wish was granted. Sprawled out across the king size bed, limbs splayed to every side..he’d lie there in utter pleasure and awe as (y/n)’s mouth engulfed him whole. You’d circulate your tongue and swirl it around on his cock, going from the tip to the base as your hands remained planted on either side of him. Your eyes sharply focused on his reactions and loving each one. That thick, plump ass was arched in the air, subtly bouncing in rhythm with your sloppy throat fucking. In between those round cheeks? Resided that plug that was getting you acclimated to what was headed your way. That tight little hole sucking on the metal and conforming to its shape. For now, you were making sure he was well aroused and lubricated, thanks to your incredible skills. Fountains of spit drooling down the sides of your mouth and onto your exposed chest as well. Alternating between his balls and shaft; stroking him as you suckled on one and vice versa. What seemed to really drive him crazy, was when you decided to take him down your throat entirely and didn’t even gag once. Even as your forehead collided with his shapely abs. “You nasty bitch…I love you..” making you both break into a giggle because he was truly enamored with how slutty you’d get for him. He didn’t even mean to curse you in such a way, it was just how you made him react. All of the filthy thoughts that plagued his mind, you were willing to enact each one with him. Tugging you away, Ace would lean up and cup your face once you were done. “No, fuck that. I gotta have you right now..oh shit. Need to play in all those pretty holes, baby..” Shoving his tongue into your mouth to reward you for an incredible job. As much as he enjoyed your oral service, it was his turn now. In a moment of haste, he’d usher you onto your knees; ass poking up in the air and face planted into the mattress. That’s when he’d saddle behind you. Hands gripping the fat of that round bottom and squeezing before planting hard, sharp smacks across the cheeks. He was so erect, it was taking all of his restraint not to bottom you out right now. But first, he had to get a taste of his own..

“Look at that..you took it so well, sweetheart..” Growling as he spreads you open yet again. This time, he’d allow a trail of saliva to seep down to that puckering entrance. You’d whimper at the sensation and nuzzle your face deeper into that pillow whilst he worked you over with that plug; pulling and tugging at it just to see your reactions. That’s when he’d clutch your throat, forcing your head back as he thrusted the little metal bud in and out, getting you used to the feeling of being penetrated there..

“Eyes up here...I can’t wait to see that pretty face when I fuck this tight little asshole..gonna make you feel so good, baby. I swear..” sucking his teeth as he forced you to maintain your arch, as well as that gaze. Your expression had gone all but dumb and blank..drool seeping down your chin and a smile on your lips. “Can I do that? Hmm? Can I make my babygirl feel good?” Cooing to you in that tone that always wore you down, even in your most defiant and bratty state. He’d stroke your cheek lovingly before popping a thumb between your lips in between soft kisses to your temple. “Yes, daddy..fuck my ass, please..” giving him the one response that always made him go weak. Hearing you utter the name made him melt instantaneously.

“..shit…that’s a good girl.” Removing that thumb, he’d pat your cheek and tell you to return to your original position. That’s when he’d take his place behind you, mounted with your cheeks in his grasp. Keeping you exposed, he’d remove that plug entirely and lower his head until he replaced it with that of his tongue. Prodding around and poking it in and out of that tight entrance. He loved the way you tasted..wanting to lap and lick on every inch of your perfect body. Meanwhile, that sopping cunt was dripping underneath you and furthering your bliss, he’d trace tiny circles around that clit; even shoving a digit inside of your pussy whilst he spat down onto your asshole, still devouring it as if it were nothing. Fingering you simultaneously. “Mmmmph! Fuck…that feels so good.” “I can tell..look how wet you are, babe. Creaming all over my fingers..” exclaiming as he pushed them in and out..still licking around the perimeter of your exposed entrance. He wasn’t shy about it either. He was practically tongue fucking your hole and enjoying every moment of it. Hearing you cry out and curse, watching you writhe…every reaction turned him on more than the next. Not to mention how much you were gushing.

“Just like that..thrust that ass back on my face. Let me know how much you love it.” Chuckling before feeding you more of those heavy handed slaps. He was relentless. You’d subtly twerk as he wrangled his head around, slurping and lapping at that tight hole. “Ace, please….” He could tell by your whimpers and needy expressions what had to be done. Reluctantly parting ways with your tender spot, he’d mark it with one last flick and leave a kiss on your supple cheek..reaching down to stroke his shaft as he prepared to take the next step. He was going to give you the very thing you had been craving..

“Alright, baby..I guess you’ve earned it. Spread that ass open. Let’s see how good you take me..

planting another hard slap against your ass, he’d instruct you yet again to hold yourself open. That fluttering hole was aching for him and begging to be filled. That tip of his was glowing red and leaking precum as he mounted behind you. “Yeah, keep that arch for me, princess. Just like that.” Licking his palm, Ace rubbed it in his hand slowly and massaged his cock head before poking it at your entrance. He knew you were needy but he’d never seen you so desperate before. So desperate to be full of him. Asking you once more, he’d ease himself in and try to maintain his composure..

“Fuuuck..”

the expletive leaving his lips almost immediately. That initial sensation was almost too much for him to bare but he’d persist, as this was all of his own volition. After all, he had been begging to claim this part of you and now that he had it, he better had known what to do with it. From the moment he slid in, you began to drool and your eyes began to dilate. Rolling to the back of your head immediately.. “..so fucking tight..oh my god..you feel amazing..” his voice almost drunken with lust for you. Tossing his head back; rolling them onto his shoulders, Ace shifted his hips to establish a position and pace once and for all.. “..damn, I gotta start moving, baby. Are you okay?” “Y-yes..please.” And with that, he’d start thrusting, going a bit faster and a little deeper..just so you both could become acclimated with the feeling. It was a lot admittedly, but the feeling was almost euphoric. Nothing like either you had ever experienced. “Oh my god, that feels so good..” your little entrance constantly sucking him in. By this time, he was buried halfway into you..the tip prodding at your sensitive core and causing your legs to tremble. You could no longer hold that stance but you were slowly beginning to meet his strokes with the subtle bounce of your ass. It was so round and thick, it nearly swallowed him whole. And doused in that oil, he could barely take it. Between both, he was having a hard time staying on rhythm. With a hand placed into the small of your back, Ace watched as both holes spread and gripped with each movement he made. “Yesss, baby..fuck this ass..you’re so fucking deep in me..” whimpering and crying out as he kept going. He’d begin to speed up and feed you deeper thrusts, egged on by your sweet moans. But this subtly wasn’t going to suffice any longer. You were both in need of a little more..you needed him to truly stretch you out!

Yeah? Then take this dick..keep throwing it back on me—“ but alas, you’d do him one better and begin looking back at him as you rode him. Flattening yourself against the mattress to garner leverage. “Oh shit..and that pretty face too? You’re gonna get all this cum, baby. I swear..” you had obviously worn him down and it was apparent by the tremble in his voice that your fiancé was not going to last much longer at this rate. You certainly didn’t help matters any when you began calling him daddy again and begging to fill you up. “That’s what you want? For me to come in you..fill this hole up?” Nodding, you answer his question but it wasn’t a proper response in his opinion. So to up the ante, he’d grasp your throat and tug your head back as those thrusts became a little sharper. He had begun to pound you as that hole became good and accustomed to his cock being in it. You’d never been so stimulated before in your life and before long, you’d reach your orgasm too. Barreling out in the form of rapid spurts of juices from your pussy. “Oh fuck! Yes…I’m coming!” although he too was reaching his peak, he couldn’t help but to tease you. “Such a cute little slut..coming from getting fucked in your ass. I love you..” having to chuckle as the prospect up getting to defile you like this for eternity crossed his mind. It was inevitable at this point. You’d already reached your breaking point and was only being held up by that clutching hand around your throat and his tender kisses. He could no longer sate his ravenous desire for you nor could he hold his climax. Those fat, swollen balls smacked up against your clit with much veracity and with those tears gliding down your face, Ace would capture you in another sloppy peck to quell those cries.

“I know, sweetheart. I know…I’m so fucking close. Give me one more and I’ll give you what you want. Same time.” Coaxing you on for another orgasm and like clockwork, you didn’t hold back. You’d find yourself twitching and writhing on his cock as it remained nestled inside of you. As promised, you’d feel the sharp thrusts reach their plateau and then…

“Oh..haaa—fuuuuuck! Fuck..me..”

those loud grunts filled the air as his seed filled your hole, leaving you stuffed to the brim. It were almost as if you had broken him after that. He’d beg to stay in it for just a few more moments but when he finally found the strength to pull out, the sight before him was beautiful. You’d reach back one last time and part yourself open for him. He was proud to have claimed you in such a way..panting and heaving, Ave would chuckle at his handiwork and reward you with one last kiss.

“Damn…we definitely have to do that more often.”

ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :

@greenieweeniesworld @spaceforher @wintrrxxo @rnvsxo

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hiramaris · 1 month

Text

Kiss it Off Me

CHAPTER 6

Chapter Summary:

"You were avoiding me." Haley finally said, and she commended her voice from not shaking. "You don't want to dance with me." "I..." You seemed taken aback by Haley's observation. "I wasn't..."

Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer

Disclaimer: I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.

Warning: none i think?

Notes:

The most awaited Flower Festival. Buckle up, simps.

Spring 24

Four days.

Four freaking days since you had abruptly decided to avoid her.

And yes, she's definitely counting it.

What she didn't get is why? Why the sudden aversion?

Haley had tried to rack her brain for any reason, just anything but she couldn't find any. She tried to recall the events that night.

Haley took you home from the saloon because your ass was so drunk you couldn't even stand on your own feet without tripping.

And then there's... that.

With a heavy sigh, Haley placed her white dress for the flower dance on her bed.

She should have been excitedly preparing for the upcoming dance, but the stupid farmer had been occupying her mind today.

Even yesterday.

And even the day before that, and the day after that.

After your sudden declaration of 'feelings?' (yes, she's questioning because what the hell does that mean?), Haley had found herself speechless for the umpteenth time that night.

She couldn't find her voice, or rather, she didn't know how to respond to that. Fortunately, before she could, you shook your head as if you had said something silly.

Your moment of soberness dissipated completely as you slumped back to Haley. You had been a bit cooperative after that as both of you were able to go to your farm without any further hitch.

Haley was all but familiar with your farm. She had occasionally taken her pictures here when Old Railey was alive. She was fond of him.

He was kind and he kind of reminded her of her grandma. When he died, there was a large part of Haley that still grieves for him until now. Which is maybe why she was a bit apprehensive at you when she first came. At Haley's little time at Pelican town, she knew how much Old Railey sacrificed for the farm, to see it run down like that and be given to a complete stranger— a city girl no less, never mind you're his granddaughter.

But as she stood at the entrance of the farm, with the same farmer she loathed beside her, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as she saw the state of the farm for the first time since you moved here.

The once-overgrown grass and unruly weeds that had taken over the farm were now perfectly tamed. A neatly constructed wooden path led towards what Haley assumed was your cabin.

Despite the darkness surrounding her, she could spot a variety of spring crops flourishing in the distance. Blue jazz, cauliflower, green beans, parsnips, and many others were thriving under your care. While there were still renovations to be done, Haley couldn't help but be impressed by how well you were doing. As if you're really meant for farming.

The cabin looks freshly renovated, too. Last time she heard it was a bit crusty and on the verge of collapsing.

As Haley stepped into your home, she was greeted by a small ginger cat. The feline locked eyes with her for a moment, assessing her presence before realizing she meant no harm and had come with her owner.

Sensing Haley's intention, the cat let out a loud meow, leading her towards a closed door on the right, which she assumed to be your room.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly. Haley had managed to settle you on the bed and was ready to head home herself. However, it appeared that you had other plans.

You suddenly sat up straight and grabbed her hand as if sensing Haley was about to leave.

Haley looked at you, waiting expectantly.

And then it happened.

There's vomit.

It was everywhere—on Haley's pajamas, the blankets, and even your own shirt.

Haley wanted to scream in frustration, but worry had won over her disgust as she heard you have a coughing fit. She gently shook your shoulders, trying to get your attention.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concern lacing her words.

"I'm..." you coughed, voice strained, "my head hurts..."

And that's the sole reason Haley has to borrow some set of clothes from the farmer's wardrobe, change the bed sheets and blankets—

And...

Change your clothes.

The memory made Haley's cheeks burn with embarrassment, but she had no other choice. There was no way she could sleep beside you with vomit-stained sheets, and you smelling like that.

Haley's face flushed with embarrassment as a sudden realization hit her like a ton of Emily's hippie rocks.

Oh...

There's also one bed. You and her slept on the same bed.

So, it kinda makes sense now.

Why in Yoba's name has she just realized this now?

No wonder Emily had given her a funny look earlier when she had returned that morning wearing obviously your varsity shirt.

Haley had also completely missed the bright, bold letters spelling out "L/N" stitched on the back of the shirt, which is also why Penny couldn't look at her in the eyes when they crossed paths that morning when the redhead decided to visit you at the farm to check on you.

Yoba.

They must have thought that you and her had slept together.

And maybe you thought that, too as well.

The thought made Haley cringe and she facepalmed at the awkwardness of the situation.

It certainly didn't help that you couldn't remember anything from that night after your eighth bottle.

And to add to the mix-up, you had to wake up with a hangover and everything and seeing Haley casually cooking breakfast in your house while wearing your shirt.

It was practically a neon signboard pointing at her as if saying "hey, last night was an absolute blast, why don't I make you some breakfast while I'm here?"

Just great.

This is an absolute disaster.

****

"Is she joining the dance?" Haley wondered aloud, her eyes fixed on you who was engaged in a conversation with Penny, Maru, and Harvey.

"Hmm?" Alex paused in his fidgeting, adjusting his suit that had somehow grown on him. He followed Haley's gaze and spotted you amidst the group. "Oh, you mean Old Mac? I don't think so."

Haley turned to him with furrowed eyebrows," Old Mac? What's with you and all these people calling her all sorts of names? Why can't you just call her Y/n and stick with it?"

"Whoa, slow down, cowgirl." Alex barked out a laugh at her sudden outburst. "What's got your panties in a twist?"

"Nothing!" Haley replied, trying to brush off her frustration. Deep down, though, the different names people used for you bothered her more than she cared to admit.

And the worst of it all is she doesn't know why she's pissed.

She turned away as she began pacing back and forth in the middle of the performance area.

She needs to practice her moves. Despite being crowned the flower queen for five consecutive years and having the dance steps etched into her muscle memory, she didn't want to be so full of herself.

But in reality, she was just trying her absolute best to not let her eyes settle on someone who wasn't even looking her way.

Which she have found to be a challenge.

You looked dashing, if Haley would dare admit that aloud.

Your hair is down too in its slick, natural wave, which you usually tied up in a messy ponytail.

You looked pretty similar to the way you looked when you first arrived in the town though you forgo the black slacks in exchange of a more brighter blue one, the same shade of the ridiculous suits the men wore for the dance which have made her assume you'll be dancing as well.

But with whom?

Usually, there are already designated partners for the dance and it would be quite impossible for you to learn the steps in just a month.

Maybe Penny? Leah? Or that weirdo that dyes her head blue all the time? She assumed you were close with her when you dominated all the eggs Abigail was after which earned the kids to win during the egg festival.

Whatever.

Why would she care anyway? You weren't even looking in her direction. Not even noticing that Haley did her hair differently or that she had chosen to apply a more natural make-up because you told her she's pretty enough without them.

"Ah!"

The sound of cry from Alex had made her dash towards his place in alarm.

Sam was immediate to his side, along with the other townspeople. "What happened?" she asked in urgent.

"Sorry, pal. I may have thrown it a bit too far." Sam scratched his neck in shame.

"Samson!" Jodi angrily admonished her son. "Look just what you did!"

"Ow..." Alex grunted as he tried to reach for his foot. "I think I broke my ankle."

"Can you stand?" You questioned as you helped him up. "Why'd you even bring your grid ball here?"

"H-hah. I can but I don't think I can walk it off. Hey, gramps. Mind if I borrow your wheels?" He tried to joke it off.

"Alexander!" Evelyn wasn't pleased with ay all with his humor.

"Heh, I'll give you this if I could go back home and watch TV."

"George! Don't even encourage him."

"Ehem," Mayor Lewis cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the crowd. "The festival is about to begin in five minutes. Will you be able to dance, young man?"

"I don't think so." Alex immediately answered, causing Haley to snap her head towards him in disbelief.

"What do you mean you can't?" she exclaimed, her eyes widening. "How am I supposed to dance without a partner?"

She knew it was a selfish question but how can he be so stupid bringing his ball with him?!

A mischievous grin spread across Alex's lips as he pulled you closer, resting his hand on your shoulders. "Old Mac here can replace me. I already taught her the moves."

"What?" you choked, eyebrows raising so far it hid behind your bangs. "I don't..."

"You got this. There's no need to worry. In fact," he shrugged off his coat and handed it over to your shaking hands. "It doesn't fit me anymore. It'll probably suit you better."

"B-but..."

"Wouldn't it be better if Sam takes your place since he's already familiar with the dance?" Penny tentatively suggested as she eyed Haley. "I know how much winning the crown means to you, Haley. It might be best for Sam to step in for Alex, considering it was his fault too." She glanced apologetically at Sam. "Sorry, Sam. I can dance with Y/n/n instead."

"Um, no," Alex dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. "Haley feels more comfortable dancing with Old Mac. That's more important."

"W-wait a second," Haley finally found her voice, her gaze still avoiding the person standing beside her. She could feel your eyes on her, and Haley wasn't ready just yet to see the look of refusal from your eyes. "Can't we get a say in this?!"

"Nope!" Alex chirped.

"Very well, then," Mayor Lewis interjected, clapping his hands together. "Let the festival begin!"

****

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," Haley whispered, her hands trembling slightly as they held onto your neck. Her palms had grown clammy, and her racing heart seemed to drown out the lively rhythm of the music.

"Huh?"

Your voice held a hint of confusion, drawing Haley's gaze away from the ground to meet a pair of captivating gray eyes. The faintest tinge of pink colored your cheeks and your eyes struggled to hold steady.

You looked... bashful.

It also did not miss her how the hands securely wrapped around her waist were shaking as well.

"You were avoiding me." Haley finally said, and she commended her voice for not squeaking. "You don't want to dance with me."

"I..." You seemed taken aback by Haley's observation. "I wasn't..."

"Could've fooled me," Haley muttered under her breath as you gracefully twirled her around and pulled her back into your arms.

Despite the thick tension between you two, it looked like you really did actually perfected your moves and were able to dance in sync with Haley's.

"You wanted to dance with Penny, don't you?" She almost sounded accusatory.

"I don't." Your answer was swift. "I don't want to dance with anyone but you. And I wasn't avoiding you."

Haley avoided your gaze. "Where were you then? I haven't seen you in days. You haven't visited us for breakfast." Her grip on your coat tightened as she looked up from the taller woman. "If it was because of what happened that day, nothing happened, okay?"

As you twirled her once more, your bodies drew closer, so close that she could also see bits of hazel from your gray eyes.

Your cheeks burned once more as you muttered, "It's not that."

"Tell me," Haley demanded.

"I was out mining." You admitted sheepishly. "And maybe I was kind of avoiding you..." Your eyes started cringing at the glare Haley was giving you. "I was embarrassed that I puked on you. Alex told me it was your self-care day and... I know I ruined it for you. And now I ruined your dance."

Haley's gaze softened drastically. "Idiot," she mutters, her arms finally relaxing against your shoulder. "You haven't ruined anything." She told you simply.

"Yet," you added, chuckling.

As the tension dissipates, you grow a little bolder as your hands relaxed around her waist, pulling Haley a little tighter against you. The warmth radiating from your palms gave Haley a profound sense of security, one she haven't felt for a long, long time.

"You know," Haley whispered against your neck, relaxing against your embrace. She didn't care if this wasn't part of the choreography. "You smell good today."

She felt you smiled against her hair, "Had to smell my best for my queen, right?"

****

Notes:

Spring's finally over! Summer here we come! Question though. Is my pacing fast or slow?

#stardew fanfic #stardew valley #stardew farmer #stardew haley #haley x farmer #haley x reader #stardew alex #stardew sam #stardew penny #stardew valley fanfic

423 notes · View notes

retrievablememories · 7 months

Text

cherry bomb | part 2 | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: after your town goes into lockdown because of the cherry bomb massacre, you find out that the murderer's interest is on you. eventually, you’re left with no choice but to face him.

genre: horror/slasher, angst, smut, college!au

word count: 13.7k

warnings: major character deaths, gaslighting, hallucinations, anxiety/paranoia, grief, trauma, violence (including knife and gun use), torture, blood, gore, descriptions of dead bodies, a funeral scene, fuckboy!JK, oral (fem receiving), fingering, finger-sucking, handjob, cumplay(?), hair-pulling

a/n: this part is quite rougher than the first, so heed the warnings. same notes as the last part—not meant to be entirely realistic since this *is* a slasher. block/filter as needed. i didn’t mention this in part 1 but this fic is not set in present day; more like somewhere in the 2000s? i don’t think this fic would work as well with all this advanced technology/the prevalence of social media now

...also, i had this story all written out and then decided to completely change the plot at the last minute because i figured out a way to write the original plot i had wanted to do from the beginning. 💀 yeah…just leave your thoughts below

taglist is at the very bottom of the fic—for some reason i wasn't able to tag everyone who requested, so please reblog this fic so folks can see it

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 1

you’re standing in front of some stranger’s house in the early hours of the morning, your body heavy from exhaustion as your adrenaline has run out. this is not at all how you expected your night to end when you left your dorm hours ago. it must’ve taken at least 40 minutes to get to this house, and you’re less familiar with this part of town, which you try not to feel uneasy about. you suppose the farther away from the scene of the carnage, the better.

jungkook bangs on the door, calling out the name yoongi-hyung until the porch light comes on. though it’s illogical, you’re tense with apprehension that the murderer could somehow appear at any moment, and you hope whoever yoongi is lets the both of you in soon. so much for no longer looking over your shoulder.

a man with hair just as long as jungkook’s answers the door, looking disheveled and annoyed. “why the fuck are you banging down my door at nearly 2 am—"

yoongi stops speaking as he eyes the both of you up and down, his gaze going from the bite mark bruises you left on jungkook’s neck to the dried blood on your face to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. his expression is between surprise and curiosity. “what the fuck is going on here?”

“can we talk inside?” jungkook says, though he doesn’t wait for an invitation before pushing his way past the other man and stepping inside.

“uh…hi. sorry.” you step inside too, glad to not be out in the open anymore.

yoongi takes another look outside the door at the state of jungkook’s car before closing and locking it. “mind explaining this shit? i thought you were going to that party you told me about?

“i did,” jungkook says, his voice full of frustration. “the fucking killer showed up at the party.”

“the fuck are you talking about?”

“you know what i’m talking about. that werewolf-masked freak? he came and just started stabbing people to death. we watched him shoot a fraternity member in front of us, dude. that’s why my car looks the way it does.”

“the campus is probably dangerous,” you add. “that’s why we came here. we just need somewhere safe to stay for the night.”

yoongi goes to the window and draws back the curtain. he peeks out the small holes in the side of the blinds rather than pushing the blinds down to look outside. “and you’re certain he didn’t follow you here? i thought he only killed virgins anyway. why the hell was he shooting at you?” then yoongi turns away from the window and looks at you. “oh. is this why?”

feeling put on the spot, you blurt out: “look, i don’t think that matters much anymore. he seemed to be killing anybody who was in his way.”

“and he was on foot the whole time, so there’s no way he could’ve followed us,” jungkook adds.

yoongi shakes his head and walks away from the window. “whole town is fucked, then. come on.”

you’re relieved to be able to scrub the blood off your face and change into fresh clothes. you initially thought it was peculiar that yoongi had spare clothes ready for you to wear until he alluded to keeping them on hand for any of jungkook’s hookups that he brings over.

“sure—of course.” you’d just nodded and tried not to look embarrassed as you accepted the clothes.

even after showering you don’t feel entirely clean, though. you think it might be impossible to return to feeling anything like your former self after tonight.

the couch has a pull-out bed, so it’s not as uncomfortable as it would be just sleeping on a regular sofa, which you are grateful for. you’re still arranging the pillow and blankets when jungkook walks into the room holding his own bedding.

“i think i should sleep here,” he says.

“there’s no room on the couch for the both of us,” you protest, thinking he means to take your spot.

“i mean on the floor. earlier, you didn’t seem like you wanted to be left alone in here.”

“oh.” you try to take the edge out of your voice; it’s hard to be polite when you’re still so overwhelmed with stress. “that’ll be uncomfortable though.”

jungkook just waves his hand and dumps his pillow and blanket on the floor before going to push the coffee table out of the way. “doesn’t really matter, i think we’ve been through worse tonight than sleeping on a hard floor…”

“thanks,” you say quietly, watching him spread his blanket out on the ground. you want to say something else, but you can’t think of anything.

“it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

after a few more moments of staring at jungkook as he arranges his sleeping area, you finally ask, “i was wondering how’d you meet yoongi? he doesn’t seem like he’s a college student. i’ve never seen him around our campus, at least.”

“he isn’t. he works as a music producer, so he’s out of town a lot, but this is his homebase. as for how we met—it’s a long story. he and my brother actually used to know each other, so…” you think he’ll explain further, but he just shakes his head. “but he’s a good friend.”

“i see. a music producer…nice. how cool for a little town like this.”

after everything is to his liking, jungkook gets under the blanket. “tonight was a lot, so try to get some sleep.”

you nod and turn the lamp off, though you’re doubting you’ll get any peace tonight. “yeah…you too.”

SATURDAY MORNING, NOV 4

you wake up around 11 a.m. on a strange couch wearing strange clothes in a strange room. with your brain’s half-conscious state, your terror reawakens; you think maybe you’ve been kidnapped by the murderer and the car ride with jungkook last night was a dream—until yoongi pops into your mind.

you try to regulate your breathing and settle back beneath the blanket, though you know you won’t be going back to sleep.

you haven’t gotten more than an hour of sleep in total, broken up into 20-minute intervals across the hours. every time you’ve tried to close your eyes and drift off, you see the frat member’s skull bursting apart again, shocking your entire nervous system. you can think of nothing but the piles of bodies and the deaths you witnessed. perhaps it’s better that you don’t sleep; you figure your dreams wouldn’t be any more tolerable than your thoughts.

as you shift around on the couch, your whole body screams with soreness. your arms, your ribs, your sides, your legs, and—to a lesser extent—even between your thighs where jungkook was last night.

you glance over and see that he’s still sprawled on the floor, blanket halfway kicked off. he’s actually awake, his face turned away from you as he blinks slowly and stares at nothing, but he doesn’t say anything and so neither do you. with you spending most of your night awake, you saw that he was able to get more rest than you did. lucky him.

it hurts to move, but you reach for your phone and check for any signs of lorelai. none. there is one text from camille, sent 40 minutes ago.

➤ camille: I talked to Lorelai’s sister. She went to go see about a missing persons report. The police took her information but didn’t seem very concerned about it and said she might have just stayed the night with other friends after the party. Apparently a lot of others had the same idea as you. Campus is a ghost town. They’re still identifying all the bodies, so no word yet.

➤ y/n: so we just have to sit here and wait to see if she’ll turn up alive or dead? that’s useless.

➤ camille: As per fucking usual with the pigs.

➤ camille: She also told me there’s supposed to be a lockdown or something. It’s on the news.

➤ y/n: a lockdown???

looking around the room, you spot the TV remote sitting on yoongi’s coffee table a few feet away. you try to sit up, but it takes you a couple minutes longer than you anticipate because of the pain. jungkook notices the movement from the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. “what are you doing?”

“tryna get the remote.”

jungkook grabs it and hands it to you, and you turn the TV to one of the local news channels.

➤ camille: They’re telling people not to leave their homes for anything non-essential while they search for him. Not sure how long that’s supposed to last. I guess now they wanna get serious about this fucking killer? Too late for that.

you and jungkook watch as the newscaster gives a rundown of last night’s events; to your small relief, it looks like the killer didn’t try to go to the campus after the murders at the party house. the newscaster goes on to announce that the police are instating a citywide curfew, which they’ll discuss further at a press conference in the afternoon. in the meantime, they advise everyone to only travel in groups, shelter in place if possible, and keep all windows and doors locked.

you laugh humorlessly, and jungkook glances at you again. “in groups? we were all packed into one damn house at the party, and how much did that help?”

➤ y/n: are you sure you’re okay at the uni?

➤ camille: I’m fine. My roommate brought some of her friends into our room so no one’s left alone. Either way, my dad is coming to help me move some of my things out and come back home.

➤ y/n: okay, please just stay safe.

➤ camille: You too.

“what now?” jungkook says once the newscast goes off. “everybody just stays holed up for like a month while they hunt for that guy?”

you roll your eyes. “people won’t stay in their homes for that long. i don’t know how any of this is gonna work. we wouldn’t be in this mess now if they’d cared when this first started happening.”

“you think so? students would still be getting killed. the only difference is that a good chunk of people would just be sitting at home freaking the fuck out and too scared to go anywhere while the killer would still be on the loose.”

“…damn. it’s truly bleak to assume we’d still be in the same situation. you’re an optimistic one.”

“better than deluding yourself about it.”

“whatever. where’s your family to freak out over you? somebody should be concerned about your whereabouts by now. didn’t you say you have a brother? speaking of, i’m gonna have to call my sister soon…”

jungkook turns back to the TV, and you can tell he’s become more tense than he was seconds ago. “yeah, but i’m estranged from them. yoongi’s my family.”

wrong thing to ask. you wonder about the reason for it but decide it’s probably better not to pry. “ah…that sucks.”

jungkook looks back at you like he’s irked by that response, but he makes a noise resembling a chuckle. “tell me about it.”

later that afternoon, after you’ve reassured your sister veronica on her work break that you are fine and at a “friend’s” house (because you have no clue how to refer to either of these men), you and yoongi sit at the kitchen table with brunch while jungkook goes outside to examine the damage to his car more closely.

it’s difficult to eat, but you do so anyway; you don’t want to be rude by wasting the food yoongi made. the news station still plays loudly from the living room as you wait for the press conference to come on.

“so, about you and jungkook...” yoongi starts, looking at you from over the rim of his cup of coffee.

“what about me and jungkook?”

“we both know he didn’t get those bites on his neck from a wild animal attack.”

you sit up straighter in your seat, a sudden spike of irritation hitting you. “aren’t we all grown here? who cares?” you try to sound unbothered despite feeling very green about all of this. after all, you’d only had sex for the first time last night.

“look, i don’t care. fuck him all you want. i’m just trying to advise you not to get emotionally involved, because that’s not how jungkook operates. the amount of girls i’ve had somehow coming after my neck when their situationship with him doesn’t work out is starting to get really old. it’d be best if you didn’t do the same.”

you’re simultaneously annoyed at his assumption of you and flustered because you want to prove him wrong about acting the same as the other girls. you hate both feelings. “i don’t want anything like that with him. i just needed something done and i got it. it doesn’t matter anymore.”

yoongi shrugs, and you get the sense he’s heard that before and isn’t convinced, but you can’t be bothered going back and forth with him about this.

the press conference comes on TV a few minutes later. they announce that classes at your university are cancelled indefinitely; parents and relatives will need to come move their students out, and the school will be operating with a skeleton staff and increased security presence for any students who can’t leave the campus. the citywide curfew will be at 8 p.m. every night, by which time almost everyone will need to be in their homes, and it will end at 6 a.m each morning.

“fun,” you say sarcastically. “at least i won’t have to worry about finals and trying not to get murdered at the same time.”

when jungkook comes back inside, you let him know about what he missed from the press conference.

“we should just stay here for now.” when you raise your eyebrows, jungkook says, “i basically live here when i’m not on campus for classes. plus yoongi-hyung lets me bring girls here all the time, this is nothing new.”

“if both of you are gonna be hiding out in my place, we’ll need to go to the store,” yoongi says. “more mouths to feed.”

“…or i could just go home?” you propose, your mind reeling at them already making plans. you feel awkward about staying in a stranger’s house for who knows how long. “i think we only really needed to stay here for the night. it’s fine.”

“will you have people there with you?” jungkook asks. “it’s not safe to be alone.”

you’re surprised he seems to be this concerned, but you answer: “well, i mean…my sister works 12-hour shifts as a nurse and she’s the only one living there, so…” you’d chosen your university because your older sister lived in the area, and because it was a tradition for women in your family to attend that school, but there were no other relatives you could turn to. your parents lived a couple of towns away.

yoongi comes to the conclusion so you don’t have to. “in other words, you’ll be alone most of the day.”

“…i guess. but i’m really not tryna impose on you by staying here.”

yoongi tilts his head, a small smirk on his lips. you automatically dislike the look on his face. “why don’t you take jungkook with you, then?”

you and jungkook glance at each other. “but, hyung…”

yoongi shakes his head. “you already know i can take care of myself. seriously, don’t worry about it.” and then yoongi winks at you. you don’t know for sure, but you take that to mean he’s probably packing heat like camille’s dad.

“if you’re sure.” turning to you, jungkook says, “so, how about it?”

“it’s my sister’s house, so i’ll have to ask her,” you say tentatively. “yeah…uh. let me do that now, i guess.” you pull out your phone to text her about it, though you know it’ll be a while before she gets another work break and can answer. “in the meantime…i think we’ll need to go to the store either way. and then to campus to pick our things up.”

“you’re right. let’s go then,” jungkook says.

the store is full of people panic-buying food and necessities in preparation for the curfew and effective lockdown, which you expected. you and jungkook end up going your separate ways to find the things you need because it’s quicker that way, and because you want to get in and out of the store as soon as possible. the crowdedness is too much like the party, and despite yourself, anxiety begins rising in you due to the claustrophobic atmosphere. you try to maintain even breaths as you keep searching for items. just what you need—a shiny new trauma to make your life harder.

you pass by a man in one of the less-crowded aisles before realizing he’s standing in front of what you need to get, examining one of the food packages. you wait a few moments to see if he’ll finish up soon, and when your eyes begin to wander, you see that there’s a long gray hair clinging to the back of his leather jacket, standing out clearly against the black. you probably wouldn’t have noticed this at all on any other day, except your mind has been on high alert for hours now; you find it strange that this strand clearly doesn’t match the shade or length of the hair on his head, which is short and plain brown. the shade of the hair also weirdly reminds you of something, though you can’t quite recall what; it remains just out of your mind’s reach.

you shake your head. he could’ve come to the store with somebody who has long gray hair, or hugged them before he left home, and a strand stuck to his jacket. it’s the least of your issues right now.

the man must feel your presence behind him because he turns around to look at you. you’re a little taken aback by his gaze; his expression isn’t mean per se, but very intense, as if his entire focus is trained on you.

there’s a second’s pause, like he’s thinking about something before he speaks. “am i in your way?” he asks, never breaking eye contact. his voice doesn’t portray any particular emotion.

“i just have to get something really quick.” he steps aside and gestures to the rows of food without a word. you slip in beside him and grab what you need before moving away again. “thanks.” you think about telling him about the hair on his jacket but decide against it; your decision is solidified when you spot a wolf figurine keychain on his keys, faded from time but still distinguishable. it makes your breath catch.

there’s no way it could be him. it was kind of dark in the party house with nothing but string lights and lamps illuminating it, and everything happened so quickly…but you do remember the colors of that mask. red, yellow, black—and that dark gray for the fur.

but maybe it’s really all just a coincidence; how much sense would it make to turn every person with wolf paraphernalia and random stray hairs into a suspect?

you walk down the rest of the aisle and away from the man with growing unease. maybe it’s time to find jungkook so you can get out of here; you can hardly keep yourself together, and despite your best attempts at logic, you can’t stop yourself from getting more frantic about those two things.

speeding up your walk and weaving through people, you look down every aisle in search for jungkook before you find him, rushing over to him as you breathe heavily.

“whoa, what the hell is wrong? did somebody do something?”

“no, i…”

“what happened?”

“it’s the…well, the…i saw, uh…”

“y/n.”

“i saw—the mask. the fur from the mask. do you remember it?”

“…you mean that stupid ass werewolf mask?” you gesture for jungkook to lower his voice. “wait, you’re saying you saw it in here?”

“no, i saw a man who had a strand of hair on his jacket…” it starts sounding ridiculous to your own ears the more you speak, but you continue. “the strand—it was the same color as that fur. the same length! and he—he had some weird wolf keychain…”

jungkook stares at you for a long moment before sighing. “you’re not serious? a random strand of hair that could be from anybody or anything? that could be from someone’s fucking grandma for all we know. plus a keychain…maybe he just likes wolves, y/n.”

you already know that saying i just feel like something is off won’t be enough to convince him. you sigh with a deep sense of defeat, considering that he’s probably right. maybe your initial assumption was the more sensible answer. “…right. i think i’m just really fucked up right now after everything that happened. can we finish up here?”

“yeah, we will. because you definitely need to lay down soon or something. you haven’t had any sleep all night, right?” the way jungkook eyes you with concern as if you’ve lost your mind annoys you. you’re about to give a smart remark when you notice something in the carrying-basket he has.

“…a baseball bat?”

“if the killer comes after us again, duh. we’ll be prepared this time. or at least i will.”

“good luck with that if he happens to have another gun.” rolling your eyes, you brush past jungkook to go to one of the checkout counters.

in the parking lot, you see that the man from earlier has also come out and is putting the last of his grocery bags into his car trunk. there’s really nothing spectacular about his appearance that would make him stand out in a crowd, with his average height and average looks, let alone incriminate him as a serial killer. yet that familiar unease won’t leave.

he sees you and jungkook walking towards the car together, and his eyes dart to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. then he makes eye contact with you. you give a half-hearted wave, unsure what else to do with his eyes stuck on you. for a moment, his lips turn up into the faintest smile before he shakes his head and gets into his own car.

MONDAY, NOV 6

you’ve spent half of saturday and all of sunday trying to get used to living in your sister’s house with jungkook. veronica had been surprisingly okay with having him stay over, though most of it was her being relieved you finally found “a potential boyfriend who’s actually cute.” you didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

you’ve also been constantly checking on camille (to her eventual annoyance) and seeing if there are any more updates on lorelai. still nothing. your dread grows the further away you get from that bloody friday, but you try to keep your thoughts from straying too darkly.

right now, you, veronica, and jungkook all sit on the couch together in a neat little row, a bowl of popcorn in front of you on the coffee table and some science-fiction B-movie playing on the TV. your sister proposed the idea to distract yourselves from everything going on, but so far, you feel like it isn’t very effective. at least not for you. your mind keeps wandering to other things every 5 minutes.

eventually, veronica yawns widely, stretching her arms and legs before rising off the couch. “okay, i’m getting tired as fuck. i need to go to sleep for work tomorrow anyway. you guys enjoy the rest of the movie, okay?” she pats your shoulder as she passes by you on her way out of the room.

jungkook waves. “oh, sure. goodnight.”

“night, sis.”

when jungkook’s attention goes back to the movie, your sister makes eye contact with you and points her finger at you menacingly. you give her a shocked look while she mouths you know what i mean and swirls her finger in jungkook’s direction. embarrassed at the implication, you roll your eyes and turn your head back to the TV screen. having sex with jungkook on your sister’s couch is not high on your list of priorities tonight.

after your sister is gone, jungkook spreads out on the couch like it’s his own living room, placing his legs right over your lap. you sigh, looking over at him—and hoping that your eyes don’t linger too obviously on the expanse of thigh muscle that’s now on display from his shorts riding up higher.

“…really? i don’t want your big ole legs in my lap.”

jungkook just grins. “you should lay down too, it’s more comfortable this way.” you stare at him, and he tries to egg you on by pulling the sleeve of your shirt. “come on.”

“i’m not laying down on top of you, if that’s what you’re after.”

you do end up lying down, but on the opposite side of the couch so that your legs are tangled together, which really just increases the amount of contact between you either way—but whatever.

this makes jungkook laugh more. “ha, it’s like we’re scissoring.”

“so damn corny.”

you two continue watching the rest of the movie, but by the end of it you don’t remember half of what happened. taking the remote, you flip through the channels and try to find something else to look at. there isn’t much interesting to watch on a random monday night—which would be a school night anyway, if not for the current context.

as you search for a channel, jungkook asks: “what would you do if you found out who the killer was?”

you squint your eyes at his odd question. maybe the obvious answer would be to alert the police. but after days of having your anger stoked like a fire, that’s not exactly the answer you’d choose. “maybe i’d kill him.” the words leave your lips easily, and you hardly think twice about them once they’re out.

neither of you speak for a few long moments.

“does that scare you?” you ask, after the silence starts annoying you. you want to laugh, but there’s nothing really funny about the situation.

“…not really. angry women are kinda sexy. so are dangerous ones.”

you scoff. “i’m not tryna be sexy, you fool. and how many dangerous women have you dealt with? seems to me you only have a thing for the innocents.”

“it’s not like i only fuck virgins. you don’t even know me like that.” he nudges your leg with his foot like he’s also annoyed, but his expression doesn’t show any actual irritation.

“…if you want to go back and forth about it, go outside and argue with the wall or something. i’m in no mood, jungkook.” you shove his foot off of you. “just, holy shit. i wish i could have just one hour where i don’t have to think about any of this shit. my mind can’t even breathe.”

he’s actually quiet for a couple minutes after. you think he’s moved on from the conversation until he finally says, “i can give you an hour.”

your body becomes alert at that. the insinuation in his tone is obvious. you glance backwards as if your sister could hear you from upstairs, though you know that’s illogical. “i got what i wanted from you already,” you whisper.

“so? what if i wanted to give you more? you know you’re allowed to have sex with a person more than once, yeah?” he chuckles.

here he is making you this offer, and once again you feel like you’ve been reduced to the state of a confused lamb in front of a hungry wolf. you realize that the idea of letting yourself get more physically entangled with jungkook scares you. he is not someone you can turn into a boyfriend, who wants to be a boyfriend, and you are only looking to save yourself from any potential hurt. “it would just be sex—right? you have to know i’m not looking for anything deeper from you.”

jungkook smirks. like with yoongi, you don’t know if he believes you. “i know.”

you want to undo almost everything from the past few days. you can’t forget, but for a while, you want to just exist outside of the timeline where there’s a killer on the loose and one of your friends is missing. it’s too much to handle; your body is approaching its limits for the amount of stress it can take. you need a balm to numb the pain and the fear, and you dislike that you are giving into your base instincts to do so. you feel guilty, somehow. but pleasure is easy. at least it has been whenever you sought it on your own—and now you have someone else to give it to you. someone who is in front of you now, proposing it with all the willingness in the world. maybe there’s really nothing wrong with saying yes.

“jungkook…”

“hm?”

“please just shut the fuck up and don’t say another word about the outside world right now. i don’t want to think about anything but your…” you falter, still trying to get used to expressing what you want sexually.

jungkook sits up, his hands sliding up your legs and to your hips. “but my what?”

“um, your…” your thoughts end when he leans down and pulls the hem of your sweater up, planting a kiss on your waist where your skin meets the waistband of your sweatpants. one kiss turns into a second, and a third. the fourth becomes an open-mouthed embrace of his lips on your skin, and you make a small noise of pleasure when his tongue gets involved.

“careful. don’t want veronica to come down here, remember?”

you huff. “that isn’t happening any time soon, believe me.”

his kisses continue as he begins to slide your sweatpants down, revealing the waistband of your panties. once they’re fully on display, he leans forward to nuzzle his face between your thighs, his mouth and nose pressing into the seat of your underwear. his actions take you off guard. you actually give a brief chuckle from surprise, though you are also somewhat embarrassed. “now what the hell are you doing?”

“let me savor my meal before i eat it.” his warm breaths tickle your inner thighs as he speaks.

“ugh, don’t turn me off.”

“that’s funny, because i seem to have an easy time getting you wet.” to prove it, his fingers press into the seat of your underwear to feel the wetness that’s seeped into them; you sigh from the brief pleasure his fingers’ movements afford you before he pulls them away.

jungkook drags your panties down next, his lips trailing down your lower abdomen and across the curls of hair covering your pubic mound. your body fills with anticipation at the gradual pace of his actions and the purposeful, wet caresses of his mouth.

when he uses his thumbs to press your lower lips apart and expose you more fully to him, you have half a mind to be self-conscious about it until he places his mouth on you in earnest.

jungkook eats like someone who hasn’t done so in a while and doesn’t know when he’ll get to do it again. his mouth sucks at your clit like he’s desperate for you to come, tongue rolling over the swollen nub in an unrelenting pattern that has your stomach tensing, and you quickly realize you do have to try to silence yourself even if you know it won’t wake veronica up. you twist your hands into the sleeves of your sweater and lean your head back on the couch’s armrest as you arch your hips up closer to jungkook’s face, uncaring about how vulnerable you feel completely offering yourself up to him like this; right now, all you want is to feel good.

“gonna come quick again? maybe we can set a new record?” jungkook pins your knee against the couch with his elbow to keep your legs open as he slides two fingers inside, diving straight in instead of working you up this time. your body breaks out in a sweat and you know you really won’t last long once he does this, the tips of his fingers aiming for that dreadful, wonderful, and overpowering place inside you. you don’t know how people do this—you feel like you’re going to die when he stimulates that spot, and all you want to do is scream even though you can’t.

“a r-record? fuck off…” you choke out, though you begin to rock your hips into the rhythm of his fingers, needing so badly for him to take you over the edge again.

he chuckles. “i don’t think you want me to fuck off right now.”

you have no words for a good comeback when he buries his head between your legs and slurps at your pussy again and crooks his fingers repeatedly to where your orgasm is unexpectedly rushing down upon you, causing your body to tense as you gasp and stifle any sounds that escape with your sweater sleeve.

jungkook doesn’t stop there and you don’t really expect him to, because you’re beginning to learn he isn’t a one-and-done type of man. he keeps sucking and stroking you right into another releasewhile you push the beanie off his head, fist your fingers into his strands, and tremble over the sight of his pitch-black mess of hair between your thighs. something about the visual is so appealing to you.

after he has made you come for the third time, you watch him sit up on his knees to reach into his shorts and pull his dick out, his darkened tip slick with precum. his long hair falls into his face as he glances downward, using the hand he’d been fingering you with to lube himself up with your cum.

“come here,” you tell him, your voice coming out sharper than you intended; but he doesn’t care, because he follows your request without a word and presses himself into your side. the couch is just big enough to accommodate both of you in this position, but it’s still a tight fit, and your bodies are once again tangled together.

“let me touch you,” you say, your palm pressed to his stomach, feeling the firmness of the muscle.

he raises his eyebrows, like you didn’t even need to ask. “of course.”

“no, i mean…” he realizes what you actually mean as you brush his hand away from his shaft and wrap your fingers around it instead.

“should i teach you how?” jungkook brings his hand to overlap yours, though his breath becomes a bit strained when you slide your hand to the base of his cock and back to the tip again, the pads of your fingers rubbing over the sensitive head. seeing your fingers around him turns him on more than he thought it could, and it’s just a simple fucking handjob.

you roll your eyes. “stroking a dickshouldn’t be that hard.”

“everyone likes it differently, though. fast, slow, soft, or rough…just the tip, or the whole shaft.” you can’t deny that—or the way you find yourself throbbing at his words, his voice husky from the pleasure. which is why you let jungkook close his hand more fully around yours and guide your movements.

it’s captivating to observe his reactions from your hand on his skin—the heavy breaths he lets out and the soft moans and even softer whimpers that come in between the exhales. whenever you squeeze his shaft more firmly or rub your thumb against his leaking tip, you find yourself grinning at the rise and fall of his chest and the tongue that darts out of his mouth to lick at his lips. but mostly, your eyes are drawn back to the sight of your hand working him over, his thighs and stomach tensing sporadically.

eventually, you both look away from your joined hands and at each other’s faces. your eyes dart to his lips and back to his gaze again, and you shift your face forward to signal your desire for a kiss. he meets you there by pressing his lips to yours, and it isn’t hard for him to get lost in the meeting of your mouths and the heat from your palm on his shaft.

your free hand returns to his soft hair to tug on it as your tongues slide against each other. he grunts at the burn of his roots being pulled but doesn’t stop you; on the contrary, his body responds favorably as more precum swells from his tip and his nipples poke against the material of his shirt.

“do you like that, jungkook?” you mumble against his mouth.

“you know i do.” at some point, his hand falls away and he lets you stroke him on your own.

jungkook gives a shuddering moan into your mouth when he climaxes minutes later, thick streams of his cum shooting onto his shirt and dripping down your hand. he tries to keep quiet and doesn’t entirely succeed, but it doesn’t much matter.

you squeeze the few remaining drops of cum from his cockhead, trying to make sure you don’t grip hard enough to actually hurt him. you pull your sticky hand away from jungkook when you think he’s finally emptied, but he grabs your wrist and you look at him questioningly. you watch with shocked eyes as jungkook brings your hand up and takes your messy fingers into his mouth, sucking his cum from them. you know instinctively it isn’t the first time he’s done this—not with the look of pure satisfaction on his features as he licks his own seed off your fingers.

his enthusiastic pleasure is part of the reason why you accept when jungkook gives you a crushing kiss, passing his cum from his tongue to yours. you don’t know what you expected it to taste like, but it isn’t gross like you’ve heard others complain about when sharing their sex tales; despite being salty, the overall taste is neutral. still, it takes some getting used to.

when you pull away from each other, noses brushing and lips wet from each other’s spit, you look into his dark brown eyes and get the sudden desire to say something that’s been buried in the back of your mind for days now.

“why did you come straight to me that night?” you whisper. “like you already knew who you were there for.”

jungkook stares back, his lips curving up slightly. “i just wanted to. or i wanted you, more specifically.”

“that’s not an answer.”

“well, it’s my answer.”

“was i another one to knock off your list?”

“you think i have a list?”

“i’m not stupid. it’s not unusual for guys to have a list. plus, plenty of rumors go around.”

jungkook taps his fingers underneath your chin and kisses you on the lips again, though it is brief. “stop believing everything you hear.”

you clearly won’t be getting a straight answer from him tonight. with the moment broken, you sigh and begin pulling your bottoms back on. “…whatever you say, dude.” once you’re dressed, you climb over his body to get off the couch. you poke him in the chest as your eyes roam over him in his disheveled state, his shorts pulled down and his cum staining his black shirt. “might wanna clean yourself up, huh? i’m going to sleep. and, yeah…thanks for the distraction.”

TUESDAY, NOV 7

with the weather being as cold as it is and heading toward winter in another month or so, lorelai is surprised by how quickly the bodies began to smell.

she doesn’t know much of anything about bodily decomposition—because, to her parents’ disappointment, she wasn’t about to be a biology major and have to be around cadavers in a dissection lab—but if this were a movie or something, she would’ve thought it would take longer than just one day. the smell started to hit her the saturday after the party.

but ultimately, this isn’t a movie, and the fact that she’s trapped in a decrepit house in some remote part of town is her present reality.

she doesn’t remember anything about how she got to this house; she thinks she must have been concussed before she was brought here. her head has been hurting badly for days, and not even the simple relief of a painkiller is available.

what she does know is that she’s being kept in a dirty living room on an equally dirty mattress, her hands and legs tied by rope and zip-ties. if there were any miniscule chance of her escaping, it would be impossible to go anywhere considering both her ankles are broken, only adding to the amount of physical pain she’s been in for days.

the living room is mostly empty except for the bodies of some other students from the party, which have been scattered around the room. lorelai tries not to look at them—especially not at the ones she knows—but it’s difficult. they become even more terrifying to her when night falls, turning into dark, rotting shadows in the corners of the room. there has been nothing but the company of these corpses for days, and a couple of visits from the killer.

he's never once taken off his wolf mask or his gloves, and every other part of his body stays covered in all black. she doesn’t have the first idea of what he looks like underneath it all. he has spoken to her a few times, but the voice isn’t one she recognizes. his words when she first awoke inside this house still knock around in her mind, filling her with dread.

he’d crouched in front of her, watching her move around on the mattress and try to orient herself. he had the casual air of someone observing a flipped-up bug struggle on the sidewalk before crushing it underfoot. “you aren’t y/n, but you’ll do for now. we’ll have some real fun later on. you’ll help me give her a good scare.”

“how the fuck do you know y/n?” lorelai had struggled against her restraints, but this only made her newly broken ankles hurt worse. tears began to fall from her eyes from the pain and fear.

the killer had said nothing to that—only tilted his head curiously and stared at her, which was unnerving even if she couldn’t see his eyes.

“you have no fucking reason to go after her, she’s not even a virgin anymore you dumb fuck—” with those words, the killer had backhanded her, sending her already injured head into a fresh wave of agony.

“things would’ve been different if not for that fucking party. you students think you’re so fucking clever, yeah? and look how you paid for it.” it was impossible to see any facial expression, but his body language spoke of anger. “no matter, though. virgin or not, i’ll see this through to the end.”

now it’s yet another morning, and he has returned. he has a lot of debris in his hands—stuff like sticks and dry moss and foliage. he’s also carrying a small bag, the contents of it a mystery. everything he does causes alarm for lorelai, but now confusion joins in.

“ready to have some fun?” he asks. with duct tape over her mouth, she can’t answer back. she watches as he arranges the debris on the ground in front of her, her anxiety mounting as he takes a lighter out of his pocket and sets fire to the foliage.

leaning forward, he rips part of the duct tape away from her mouth with his gloved hand, causing her face to sting. “got anything to say?”

“wh-what the fuck are you doing?”

“i’m gonna stoke a nice fire here…get this knife hot enough to hurt.” he brings out his knife then, and lorelai shrinks away from the blade as he drags the flat of it across her throat—but there’s nowhere else to go, as she’s sitting up against the wall. “then i’ll just cut this pretty little body up a bit. the finishing touch…i think i’ll slice your throat open. how does that sound?” he takes the knife away from her neck to hold the blade over the flames.

lorelai’s breath hitches, and her stomach begins to physically hurt from the outpouring of anxiety flowing through her. she starts to sob, trying to speak through the tears and snot and drool. the only question she can muster up is, “wh-why?”

“this is for y/n—remember? i hope that concussion hasn’t fucked with your memory.” the killer watches the reflection of the flames on the blade as it grows hotter. “and…i’m doing someone a favor.” he doesn’t wait for her to speak again before putting the duct tape back in place over her mouth, leaving her to cry to herself and face her rising distress as he heats the knife until it’s burning hot. internally, she wishes there was any way in the world to get out of this situation.

it isn’t much longer before he’s finished. lorelai screams as he approaches her with the knife, and then at the feeling of the red-hot blade scorching her skin, though the sounds are stifled by the duct tape.

“now, be still while i fix you up.”

WEDNESDAY, NOV 8

you go outside that afternoon to check the mail and have an excuse to get out of the house; it doesn’t matter if it’s only for a few moments. you’re not used to staying cooped up in one place for so long with absolutely nothing to do, and you feel like you’re not too far off from going mad with cabin fever. it hasn’t even been a week since everything happened.

you open the mailbox, and there are the usual bills along with something strange: a blank envelope with no return address. even your sister’s address isn’t written on it. flipping it over, you see that the envelope was never sealed. someone must’ve just come up and put it inside the mailbox. but who the hell would do that, and for what reason? whenever any of your neighbors have something to give you or your sister, they come straight up to the house to do it.

inside the envelope is a set of polaroids. their content makes you drop the rest of the mail. your legs grow weak, and you end up sitting down hard on the end of the driveway, some of the polaroids slipping from your hands. the pictures show the bodies of some of the students from your university, their corpses posed in odd positions and some bare of clothing—all dead.

you struggle to breathe as you frantically flip through the rest of the pictures. in the center of all the group photos is lorelai, her neck torn open and her wrists and ankles tied. she’s still dressed the way she was the night of the party, though her dress is stained with dark brown blood. there are open cuts all over her bare skin, their appearance rough-looking and uneven as if they’ve been cauterized.

there are several group polaroids, several of lorelai alone, and several angles of the outside of a house, which must be the same one the bodies are being kept in. one photo of lorelai slips out of your shaking hands, and you see there’s barely legible handwriting on the back of it, which reads, “this is just the teaser, y/n.”

you scream and don’t stop screaming until jungkook comes running out of the house holding the baseball bat, as if the killer might’ve gotten bold enough to attack in daylight. a couple of your neighbors peek out of their houses and make their way over with concern on their faces once they see you sitting on the ground, your exclamations ringing through the street.

there’s a disarrayed group of people around you grabbing at your shoulders and asking what’s wrong, what happened, and then gasps and exclamations of shock when they see the polaroids. you feel yourself being pulled to your feet and then lifted up—maybe it’s jungkook, because it smells like him—but you’re too disoriented to make proper sense of anything right now. you can only think of how much time has been wasted, and how little time lorelai actually had left.

SUNDAY, NOV 12

in the main lobby of the funeral home, you sit in a chair next to camille, staring into empty space while the other girl tries to cry as quietly as she can. she cries as if she’s ashamed of it, and you wish you could comfort her, but you don’t know what to say or do. for the past few days, you’ve mostly just felt numb.

you’re waiting for veronica to come back out so you can leave, as she’d stayed behind after the service to talk to lorelai’s family for a little longer.

lorelai’s family had opted to have her cremated after seeing the state of her body. a lot of other families did the same after the events of cherry bomb, not even wanting to entertain the idea of a closed-casket funeral. you can understand their feelings about it if you push through the haze in your mind to consider it for long enough. though the morticians have done the best they can over the past week, sometimes knowing that your loved one has multiple stab wounds and eviscerated organs beneath all the makeup and fancy clothing is too much to handle.

when veronica finally comes out, the three of you walk outside to join the rest of the people who’ve started getting in their cars. some still linger in small huddles, shaking their heads and wiping their faces.

jungkook, who’d driven you and veronica to the memorial, waits outside for you all, leaning on the side of the building. you both thought it was probably better for him not to attend the service considering lorelai was never fond of him and he didn’t know her that well.

“is it finished?” he asks.

“it is.” veronica sighs. “god, funerals are so damn…bleak.”

you notice a man waving at your group from the other side of the parking lot and realize it’s camille’s dad. her posture straightens when she catches sight of him, and she hurriedly tries to wipe the rest of her tears before shoving her tissue into her pocket. “i-i think my dad is waiting for me. i…i’ll see you guys later, alright?”

“okay, camille.” the strange absence of emotion that you’ve been trapped in for the past few days suddenly cracks open when you notice camille’s anxious demeanor as she speed-walks away from the rest of you. intense sorrow overtakes you; you don’t want her to leave, but she has to go.

you are crying before you fully understand what’s happening. veronica puts her arms around you and squeezes you against the side of her body. jungkook reaches a thumb up to wipe away your tears, though you don’t let him get very far before turning your head away and into veronica’s shoulder.

“y/n…”

“how am i supposed to go on?” you exclaim, catching the attention of a few people nearby. “the police said maybe she’s just staying with friends. and now look. plus, the killer knows where me and my sister live now…maybe he always knew.”

“we don’t even have a clue who the killer is…” jungkook mumbles. “there’s no one you know of who might have a grudge against you?”

“no, jungkook. the police already gave me all that questioning. and it doesn’t help me feel any better to think maybe all these deaths are somehow my fault.” you scoff.

“y/n, nothing’s your fault because some freak decided to go around killing people; that was his decision.” jungkook argues.

you nod slightly to his words but say nothing else, not wanting to go further into that topic. you don’t know if you can believe him about that.

the parking lot is emptying out now, so you try to pull yourself together so the three of you can leave. “well…you don’t need to keep staying with us if you don’t want to. we have those assigned bodyguards now, so…” you glance in the direction of one other car sitting beside jungkook’s—inside it are two men the police force appointed after the polaroids of the bodies were planted in your sister’s mailbox.

jungkook looks at you as if he’s trying to gauge your expression; he himself looks surprised, though he attempts to play it off. veronica glances between you both, recognizing the awkward shift in the air.

“you don’t want me there anymore? i mean it is your house—” he glances at veronica “—so that’s fine with me if—"

“what? i didn’t say i don’t want you there, neither did veronica, it’s just if you don’t want to be there—"

“i never said i didn’t want to be there, though?”

you both become quiet, jungkook looking at you and you returning his gaze for a few seconds before looking off to the side. veronica is still standing between you both like she’d rather be anywhere else on earth.

“i just figured that maybe…” why are you being so concerned about me? isn’t this the part where we go our separate ways? is what you really want to ask. you have seen and learned enough from your friends’ and even your acquaintances’ experiences to realize that any other one night stand would not have cared so much. that’s how these things go, right? but he isn’t really a one night stand anymore, either.

you don’t even know if you’re considered friends with benefits, but what would that change? you’d still seen others tossed aside without much thought by their FWBs while in times of need. considering his history, you don’t understand why jungkook isn’t following the same template now, and you don’t think you should ask why for fear of breaking the illusion.

fed up with your own confusion, you decide now isn’t the time to lament on your lack of knowledge about these things. “nevermind. that’s fine. so you’ll stay?”

the corner of his mouth lifts in a brief smile. “i’ll stay as long as you won’t try to kick me out.”

you aren’t in the mood to attempt to smile back, but he seems to understand that. “right, well...good.”

“…now that you two have figured that shit out, can we leave?”

FRIDAY, NOV 17

jungkook thought that getting outside a bit more would help you feel better and prevent you from developing a complete fear of leaving the house, which is why you’re sitting in this claustrophobic little diner now with him, yoongi, and camille—and of course, your ever-present bodyguards in the booth behind you all. but this outing isn’t doing anything to mitigate your fears.

nearly 10 minutes in, you have to ask jungkook to switch seats with you so you’re not on the outside of the booth, as you’re afraid that it’s too easy-access if anyone—say, the killer, though you’ve been trying not to think so obsessively about him—were to come in and start stabbing you to death right where you sit. being on the inside calms you for a little while until you become anxious about the window beside you; what if he has a gun again and simply shoots through the glass? all he’d have to do is stand on the sidewalk and aim, his werewolf mask laughing at you with its eternally frozen growling expression, and your brains would be all over the table just like that frat guy’s.

your meal sits half-eaten as you get increasingly lost in your anxieties. the others are talking about something, but you can’t hear what. it’s like some of your senses have shut down or begun working incorrectly. the strawberry sauce in camille’s sundae looks too much like blood and even smells like it from the occasional whiffs you get, and you find yourself staring at the sundae dish and wanting to throw it across the restaurant.

jungkook’s hand touches you on the back, and the tension in your body increases. he feels it and draws away, though he keeps trying to meet your eyes. “are you okay?” he whispers.

“why ask that? she obviously isn’t,” yoongi says, like he’s annoyed with the obviousness of jungkook’s question.

“hyung, i’m just trying to help.”

“it was your great idea to come out here when she didn’t want to, though.”

“y/n—” camille starts.

“can’t you throw that out? it smells like blood.” your mouth feels useless and hard to maneuver, but you manage to say those words.

“what?”

“the…that. that thing.” everyone looks at camille’s melting sundae. yoongi raises his eyebrows.

“blood?”

“do you mean it—looks like blood?” jungkook suggests.

you raise your voice in irritation, not understanding how everyone else is unable to perceive the same scent that you do. “no, i-it does, but it smells like blood too! just get rid of it!”

one of the waitresses comes over to the table. “is everything okay over here?”

“um, we’re fine! i’m finished with this though.” camille hurriedly hands the sundae off to her, trying to keep the situation calm.

“oh, well—the rest of you too? that’ll be it, then?” she gathers everyone’s plates and leaves with a smile that attempts to be cordial but is still colored with unease.

her departure leaves a stiff silence in which you all spare glances at each other but try to avoid directly meeting eyes. camille is the first to break it.

“i’ll ask my dad if i can stay over with you,” she suggests. she suddenly sounds much more tired. jungkook’s eyebrows furrow slightly at her words; yoongi silently glances at the younger man. “just, you know…maybe the extra company would help? he’s been treating me like a kid again, but we should be safe with the bodyguards there, so…”

“you don’t have to do that,” you say, though you’re too exhausted to truly argue.

“you’re in shambles, y/n. and it’s not just for your benefit. i’m feeling pretty fucking alone right now, and it’s hard for my dad to understand the emotional side of it, so…” camille plays with her fingers and doesn’t look at anyone as she speaks; you know talking about her father can be a sore spot for her sometimes. “uh, anyway. not to trauma-dump or anything. just let me do this.”

you sigh. “fine…okay. do whatever you have to. can we just leave?”

as you’re all walking outside, jungkook pulls you aside.

“i still worry about you after that incident at the store, you know?” he admits.

you shrug his hand off your arm and glare at him. “you think i’m crazy.”

“i don’t. i just want you to be able to relax and not feel like you’re being hunted 24/7. i don’t think the killer is constantly waiting around the nearest corner for you, y/n.”

“you don’t know how close the killer could be. he knows where i go to sleep at night. so stop the bullshit, jungkook.”

“you’ll be okay. you have me, remember? i protected you that night…i can do it again.”

you examine his face for a long moment and find that you are too overwhelmed with stress and fear to be moved by his words. “i’d like to trust you…but the killer might just murder you too. then who’ll save me?” you don’t wait for his response before walking away to catch up with the other two.

LYING IN WAIT...

it’s strange to see the police bodyguards in veronica’s driveway and backyard everyday. it’s not the same two all day—they switch off so that there are two doing a day shift and two doing a night shift.

the security team at the hospital where your sister works is aware of the situation, so you try not to get too worried about her safety when she’s away from the house—but it’s difficult.

there have been no more kills connected to your university since lorelai. it seems like half the town has forgotten their fears and tried to go back to some sense of normalcy while the other half still hides away and lives in perpetual panic, including you. the former group of people has started muddying the waters for the police, with some teenagers getting brave enough to sneak around in wolf masks and vandalize buildings with red-lettered virgin graffiti just to fuck with the cops. there have even been a few people who turned themselves in claiming to be the killer—only their supposed confessions never matched the details of the case.

reporters have tried to hound lorelai’s family and your family several times for any speculations or answers on the killer’s identity, but none of you are willing to spread misinformation just to give them something to write about. however, that hasn’t stopped other residents of your town from sharing their speculations and even implicating their own relatives or neighbors—whether as a fucked-up joke or as genuine revenge just depends on whoever’s speaking. with all of these false leads, the police are still no closer to finding the killer than they’d initially been.

everyday feels like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, though the chances of any more kills are starting to seem improbable; the university is practically empty. but it doesn’t matter to you if the school is nearly deserted, because the killer has his aims set on you now, and you only wish you knew why.

up in your room, you and camille sit on your bed gazing out the window—the window that must always remain locked now, for fear of unwanted ingress. you’ve never been uncomfortable in your sister’s house, but lately you’ve been feeling like you’re boxed in with every wall pressing towards you.

sitting up from your lying-down position, you have to find the appropriate words for a moment before speaking. “camille—i can’t stop feeling like maybe we aren’t entirely safe,” you murmur.

camille raises her eyebrows. “why not? those guys stay outside all day, and we keep everything locked up day and night. literally, the only time the front door opens is for veronica to leave and come back from work everyday.”

“i don’t know. there’s no particular reason for it…it just seems like we’re waiting for something.”

“…yeah? for the killer to be caught.”

“but he’s made no moves recently. you remember the policeman’s daughter, right? i even texted her and she hasn’t heard anything new that we don’t already know. seems like things have slowed down at the police station. it’s not like that abandoned house was in the killer’s name or anything, so what leads would they have?”

camille frowns and rubs her eyes like something’s in them, but when she looks at you directly, you see her eyes are red from unshed tears. “…i want things to be okay, though. i’m tired of living like this. you know how i had to beg just to get my dad to let me leave the house. he’s constantly on edge.” you feel even more unsettled to see camille so distressed lately, as she’s always been the only one able to pull something funny out of a terrible situation—something enough to distract you from the horrors. “all i know is they’ll have to dig his ass out of some hole in the ground at some point. he can’t hide in this town forever.”

“yeah…i guess you’re right.” you still don’t feel reassured, but you don’t voice your doubts.

WEDNESDAY, NOV 22

“i think i might go mad,” camille says from her position on the armchair, her limbs splayed haphazardly across it and one hand stuck in a bag of chips.

you sigh. “you’re the one who wanted to watch this thanksgiving movie marathon.”

“the most mid holiday of the season,” jungkook adds.

“no one cares what either of you think, thanks.” it isn’t long before the program is over and the ending credits are rolling. with an exaggerated exhale, camille gets up from the chair and crunches the bag of chips in her hand. “i’m going to your room, y/n. you two just do whatever it is you do down here, since you hate my movie choices so much!”

“means we can finally turn the channel.” jungkook snatches the remote off the coffee table and does just that.

camille goes into the kitchen to throw out the chip bag and wash her hands. your focus returns to the TV. a few seconds later, you hear the upstairs flooring creak above the noise of the water pouring from the tap.

“what’s up, sis? i thought you were sleeping.” veronica is known to be a deep sleeper, so it’s not common for her to be getting up in the middle of the night. there’s no answer to your question. you glance upstairs, but your sister isn’t standing there; she isn’t standing at all, instead being carried by someone wearing an all-too familiar mask.

you scream as the killer tosses your sister over the stair railing. her torso has been sliced open from collarbone to navel, her body leaving a large splatter of blood on the floor where she lands. jungkook jumps to his feet but is momentarily immobilized as he gazes at your sister’s body crumpled on the floor. you slide off the couch and crawl over to her, still crying out, but there’s no life left to try and salvage.

the screaming brings camille rushing to the kitchen doorway. she can barely vocalize what’s wrong? before spotting veronica’s body and stopping in her tracks. in a moment that feels like it takes forever to pass, the killer pulls a gun from his waistband—you recognize it as one of the guns the policemen carry and realize he must’ve killed the bodyguard posted in the backyard—and shoots her in the chest twice.

“camille!” when you go over to where she’s lying on the ground, she is still alive but bleeding intensely and struggling to breathe. your knees slip in the blood that begins pooling around her. “shit, camille…p-please don’t die…” you press your hand against the wounds, but they’re bleeding so much that your efforts don’t help, and the pressure of your hand causes her more pain.

there’s the sound of a gunshot at the front door as the lock is blown off, and the door is banged open a few seconds later by the remaining bodyguard. he has virtually no time to fire off another shot before the killer is shooting him in the head first.

the killer throws the gun aside, taking his knife in his other hand and making his way down the stairs. “your sister left her window cracked open. i waited for days for a slip-up like that. see how much harm can come from a simple mistake? well, she was collateral damage anyway.”

even in your panic, it’s as if all your bodily functions freeze when you recognize the familiarity of the killer’s voice. camille reacts with a rattling gasp, but her body is becoming too weak for her to utter anything; all she can do is watch as the man stops at the bottom of the stairs and pulls his mask off.

“yoongi…” your voice breaks as you try to speak again, but nothing coherent comes out.

he drops the mask on the floor and brushes a hand through his hair. “i guess you weren’t expecting that. good. we kept it up ‘til the end.”

your lips form around the word we, but your vocal cords won’t cooperate. you twist around to look at jungkook, who is still standing by the couch.

the man who you’d gotten too close to for your own good and done so many firsts with, who’d promised you that he’d protect you and was even there for you on the day of lorelai’s memorial, looks at you now with eyes glowing from the thrill as his mouth twitches into a smile—small at first but growing into a full grin. “i almost can’t believe we staged all that shit and it actually worked. you really believed it all, y/n.

not all of those kills were hyung’s, of course...there’s no way i’d miss out on the best parts. you don’t know what it’s like until you kill a person for the first time. crashing cherry bomb was his idea, though. and lorelai was mine. that bitch would’ve kept you away from me, and i needed her gone for this kill to work.”

through tears, you finally muster up the strength to ask, “wh-why have you done this? that night…y-you mean to tell me none of that was real? being shot at—why would you—” your voice rises until you’re shouting. “you-you’ve killed so many people. what was the purpose?!”

jungkook’s smile fades somewhat as he pretends to think about it, acting like he’s reminiscing on wistful memories. “i realized that killing and fucking aren’t that different, y/n. the real ecstasy of it is in taking someone pure…and doing something to them that has never been done before, and can never be done again. there’s a certain eroticism in killing someone, stabbing them, entering them…it’s like sex in the most profane sense.”

“you’re disgusting,” you mutter, glaring at him through your tears. you can’t help but feel shame to think of the times you’d had sex with him. had he simply been imagining murdering you during those moments? it makes you want to throw up.

yoongi steps closer until he’s right in front of you and camille. “and as for me…i just enjoy it. practice really does make perfect. you wouldn’t believe how entertaining it can be to see someone beg for their life.” his lips turn upwards in a dark smile resembling jungkook’s. “but instead of raging at us, i think you have bigger matters to be concerned with.” yoongi gestures his knife hand to camille, and when you look down at her body, you realize she’s no longer moving.

you lift camille’s head up with your hands as if that could make her return your gaze, though you can find no sign of breathing or pulse. “god, no…” you scream in frustration, your hands slipping in her blood. you check once more and again for any signs of life, because there is just no possible way this could’ve happened, but there are none present. “please—i’m sorry…”

“time’s up.” yoongi grabs your arm and yanks you away from camille, jostling you to try to get you on your feet. you flail around in his grip, fruitlessly scratching at his arms that are covered by his thick jacket, before managing to elbow him in the groin with your frantic movements. “shit!” this causes him to loosen his grip, which is enough for you to scramble away from him, slipping in the blood as you go.

you make it to the other side of the room where the officer lies facedown—though there isn’t much left of his face from yoongi’s shot. you snatch the gun from the dead officer’s hand and point it in the direction of both men. the safety is already off; all you’d have to do is pull the trigger and kill either one of them right now. before you can act, yoongi uses his free hand to pull another gun from his waistband—his own.

“as i said before, i know how to take care of myself,” he says, flicking the safety off and aiming for you, though his stance shows he’s still in pain. “please don’t assume it’ll be that easy. do you even know how to shoot a gun?”

you and yoongi are at an impasse as you both point your guns at each other, jungkook looking on with casual amusement coloring his face. “fuck you,” you spit out. you remain hesitant to fire on him, knowing that even if you succeed, he could fatally shoot you at the same time.

“let’s not do it this way,” yoongi says, his voice low and soft in an attempt to be persuasive, though you just find it disturbing. “you were supposed to be a clean kill. a few stabs and it’d all be over. i’ll even let jungkook do it, since you seem to like each other so much. do you really want to be shot down like a dog like camille over there?”

“you and him can both fry in hell!” you shout.

yoongi glances over at jungkook. they both nod before yoongi hands the knife to him, and the younger man takes a few steps in your direction. you don’t know whether to point the gun at him or keep it trained on yoongi; your head is pounding with a headache that you’ve only just realized you have. “don’t come over here. stay away from me!”

you press your back to the wall as jungkook comes closer, inching towards your right side with his knife at the ready. you slide away from him as you keep your back against the wall. “hand it over, y/n. it doesn’t have to be like this.”

“hand it over and let you kill me? are you insane? you lied to me this whole time, you fucking piece of shit.”

jungkook scoffs and looks at yoongi as if to say can you believe this? “why wouldn’t i lie to you? you were always meant to die.”

he won’t stop coming towards you, and you’re running out of room to slide away from him. you grasp for anything to try to reason with him, though you know it’s futile. “you realize that if you kill me now and you conveniently survive, everyone will know it’s you? you’ve been living here for weeks, you jackass!”

“hyung and i have that covered. it’s not for you to worry about, considering you won’t be worrying about anything soon.”

jungkook lunges for you with the knife, thinking he can catch you off guard and overpower you. you scream and pull the trigger in your frenzied state of mind, shooting yoongi. the next few things seem to happen almost simultaneously:

you hear the crash of yoongi’s body hitting the TV stand and the TV falling to the floor.

you feel jungkook’s knife piercing your shoulder, causing you to fire a stray round into the wall from the unexpected burst of pain.

you hear another gunshot that’s not from you; you see and feel jungkook stumble into you, the knife sliding from his fingers and to the floor.

you realize that he’s been shot when his hand flies to the bullet wound on his lower back; he’d been standing in front of you, and yoongi meant to hit you, not him.

“jungkook!” yoongi’s shout is furious and regretful as he steadies himself on the TV stand.

trying to push the pain into the back of your mind, you clumsily grasp jungkook’s fallen knife and run for the stairs. more shots follow you and most of them miss but one, which strikes you in the thigh. while you cling to the stair railing and try to regain your footing, you are suddenly staring mortality in the face and understanding with a freezing-cold clarity that you will die right now if you don’t do something.

your nervous system vibrates with fear and adrenaline as you tighten your grip on the police officer’s gun and shoot yoongi with it twice—in the same area he’d shot camille.

these last two bullets finish him off immediately. you don’t think it’s fair, with how camille suffered and bled and died in your arms. for a moment, you’re so outraged that you wish he’d come back to life so that you could kill him again. you’re torn from these thoughts by jungkook.

“you bitch…he was my only family after everyone else threw me away. do you understand? i’ll fucking kill you!” jungkook is nearly writhing in the ground from his upset and from the hurt of his injury; it frightens you that this same man is someone you once thought you could grow fond of.

you aim the gun for jungkook next, but the chamber is empty. either way, he currently has no weapon, which leaves you with a small chance to get away before he re-arms himself. throwing the gun away, you stagger up the rest of the steps while his screams continue echoing up to you.

you give no thought to the blood trail you’re leaving behind as you rush to veronica’s room and to the window yoongi had entered through. you begin squeezing yourself through, keeping your grip on your knife all the while, but your injuries make it difficult to move. a few more tears slip out as you try to balance your injured leg on the tree branch beneath the window, and the desperation of wanting to give up clings to you.

you hear jungkook’s heavy and limping footsteps coming up the stairs, and you attempt to hurry, but you’re only halfway out of the window. when he crashes into the room, it’s unnervingly easy for him to grab your arm and yank your body back through the window, uncaring of how you get scraped up in the process.

he jams you up against the nightstand with one of the kitchen knives to your neck to stop your movements; his harsh maneuver causes the objects on the nightstand to rattle. the nightstand’s edge digs into the backs of your thighs, the pressure causing your wounded thigh to hurt more.

“you want to know why i picked you?” jungkook hisses, the knife’s blade stinging your throat as it begins to break skin. “you were just another choice out of many, but i decided you’d be the first one that i’d fuck and kill.”

it’s painful to hear, but it angers you at the same time. “fuck you!” in your rage, you spit in his eyes. jungkook jerks back and the knife shifts from its previous position at your neck; you take those few seconds to grasp the alarm clock off the nightstand and crash it against his head.

“shit—!” he cries out, stumbling and grasping the side of his head. he tries to grab for you again, but you jump onto the bed and crawl away from him, your stomach lurching at all of veronica’s blood soaked into the sheets. you spot a small decorative glass bowl on the dresser—the one filled with little candies that you’d always teased veronica for, saying she was so much like a grandma handing out treats to her grandchildren. when your feet touch the ground again, you clasp your hand around it like it’s a lifeline and fling it at jungkook’s head as hard as you can, just as he makes it around the bed to your side. the shards cut his face when it breaks, slowing him down further as he grabs his slashed and bleeding face. one of his eyes is blinded from the blood and glass.

this will probably be your only chance while he’s struggling to gather himself. you rush towards him with the knife handle tight in both of your hands and drive the blade into the middle of his chest, putting all your strength into that movement—just as his own knife impales your abdomen.

you are both simultaneously struck from the shock of being stabbed, and it takes you a few long moments to piece your mind back together as the pain radiates throughout your body. jungkook groans when you shift the knife around in his wound as you pull it out, letting his blood flow out freely. his breaths become wet and rattling as he chokes on his own blood, the red fluid staining his mouth and dripping down to his neck. he jams his knife further into your wound in retaliation so that the handle is flush against your body, causing your head to spin.

“i-if i die, i’m taking you w-with me.” jungkook gasps with his remaining effort. his body starts to sag from its standing position as he weakens, his hand slipping from the knife handle. he loosely grasps the comforter with one hand as he collapses to his knees, his torso becoming soaked with blood and his head bleeding from your earlier hits.

you drop your knife and lean against the bed too, shifting your body to find a position that could lessen the pain, but it’s impossible with a knife lodged in your abdomen. you know enough to understand that you’ll bleed out faster if you remove it, though, so you resist the urge. “you can rot in hell alone, jungkook.” you watch him struggle for what feels like minutes before his breaths stop altogether and his body slumps to the floor. he is just a blur of clothes and blood through your tears. you’ve never felt so lonely in your life.

you have a thought to call 911, but you’re becoming more and more lightheaded from the blood loss, and you can already hear sirens approaching on your street. you figure one of your neighbors must’ve called after hearing the gunshots; perhaps the bodyguard sent for backup before he was shot. your rescue has come much later than you would’ve preferred—or maybe everything just happened much faster than it seemed. you can’t tell anymore.

you can’t tell anymore, and you no longer want to look at the carnage around you, and nothing makes any sense. so, you close your eyes to it all; and when you feel someone lifting you in their arms—this sensation is so familiar—and maneuvering you onto a stretcher, you allow yourself to relent to it and empty your mind of everything.

@ihatemen55 @cottoncandyclouds-stuff @yunhofingers @heybabesposts @twilight-loveer @whipwhoops @mrsminho @junecat18 @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @okayiamkassandra @witchbitxhxx @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @thaiika @goldentea10 @iloverubberduckiez-blog @katie-tibo @ohsweetmimosa @dream-cvtcher @hoseokteardrop @lpgirl2324 @vanillacupcakefrosting @gukiemochi @jkslaugh97 @ahgasegotarmy116 @jeonjklibs @bangtans-momma @screamertannie @kenzietaetae @han-nah-banana @00frenchfries00 @taiwan0618 @laurynne5 @monvante @ynisthatyou @thiccthighs19 @jeonwiixard

#jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fic #bts smut #bts x you #bts x reader #black reader #x black reader #x black fem reader #black fem reader #fem reader #female reader

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jess-the-vampire · 23 days

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honestly out of all the pilot/pitch stuff that was removed/changed, i am the most sad about william's removal if anything

arguably his character was later transformed into hunter, but i can see why dana claims technically his character was removed entirely because everything we get on him showcases him to mostly be wildly different from hunter

he's younger, from the 16th century so he's apparently centuries old, the concept was he and luz seemed to be the only humans on the isles, he's also basically everyone's idea of like.....baby philip with the witch hunter aspect more prevalent.

Honestly his pitch design even looks more like baby Philip then hunter.

how he went from this design to the more prince-like design down the line is worth asking. Cause by the time we got to the animation test he was known as "Prince william" (Idk, maybe in the pitch he was gonna be secretly a prince who regains his memories or something?)

he's just a weird kid who lives nearby and screams at the clouds.

apparently he also had a memory problem that would regain over time and reveal he and obron (pitch belos) are family and i assume had some past that probably explains them both being so freaking old and how william fell asleep with memory issues.

Maybe obron was responsible for william's condition, or maybe someone else did this and it led to obron's actions in modern day? i wonder how this would of played out had it been in the final draft.

also their relation, would it have been another nephew-uncle situation? would their relation have been way different, maybe they're brothers who were witch hunters and this was transformed into the wittebane backstory instead? william's also been asleep for centuries so it's been awhile since they've seen each other so their relationship would have a different vibe to it overall.

it's quite interesting, sad we never got to see where it would go but it would be cool if maybe a future project might go through with the unused concept someday.

#the owl house #toh #toh william #emperor belos #philip wittebane #toh hunter #golden guard #the golden guard #hunter deamonne #prince william #hunter noceda #hunter wittebane #hunter clawthorne #luz noceda #the owl house pilot #the owl house pitch

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asmosmainhoe · 5 months

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MC draws the brothers

im kinda shy to ask this but, can u make artist!mc drawing brothers and others and them reacting to it?(*´-`)

- @maiitski

Note: This was incredibly fun to write! I also only did the brothers, because I don't write for more than 7 characters in one post

Gender: neutral

Warnings: heavy language

Lucifer

You often draw him when he's working, because then he's absolutely still for hours

At first he doesn't exactly know what you're doing over there with your notebook. The first guess is some kind of study and you're simply looking for some peace and quiet to focus

Once he's done with the mountain of paperwork he walks over to you and glances over your shoulder

Oh wow. The portrait you drew of him looks fantastic and he nods proudly until he notices some special details

"Why are the spots under my eyes so dark?"

"Well, you've been working for hours now."

"I see..my hair looks so disheveled as well."

"You just really need some rest."

A portrait falls out of your notebook when you leave the room and he quickly hides it in one of his drawers. There is no way he won't treasure your hard work

Mammon

To say that it's difficult to draw a picture of the greedy demon is a complete understatement since he's in constant movements

The only time you catch him truly sitting still is when he's counting money after a long day of casino activities

"Look at what I won, MC! Hey, you're not even listenin'!"

"Sorry, Mammon. I didn't notice that you talked to me."

"What are ya doin' anyways, huh?"

His voice gets caught in his throat and he starts coughing violently. Partly to hide his embarrassment

"It l-looks pretty cool."

Translation: THIS IS THE MOST AMAZING THING HE HAS EVER SEEN

"I can get rid of it if you want me to."

"Are ya mad?! You can't just destroy a picture of the great Mammon! Give that to me."

Leviathan

By now it's routine for you to chill in his room to watch him play in the evening, but sometimes it does get a bit boring. Especially when he's playing a game that isn't your cup of tea

So you take out your notebook and start drawing whatever comes to your mind. This time it happens to be the envious third born

But you can't satisfy yourself with a normal portrait, no. You decide to draw him as if he's a character from the game he's currently obsessing over and proudly show him your work once you're done

You can watch Levi's soul leave his body in real time once he realizes that out of all the cool things in his room you drew him

"I-I can't believe you drew me! Me! It looks so good too! MC, I've got to have this! Please!"

I can see him roll around the room crying and screaming if you refuse to hand over the drawing

Satan

Once he loses himself in a book he turns into a freaking statue

Of course he has seen your drawings before and he absolutely adores them. There are several cat pictures from you hanging on his walls

But seeing you put his own features onto paper is a whole other thing

You manage to make him blush a little and chuckle in embarrassment as he inspects your work

"You're extremely talented. It almost looks real."

As Satan inspects your portrait an idea comes to his mind and a mischievous grin forms on his lips

"Do you perhaps take requests? I'd love for you to draw me tower over Lucifer. Preferably him cowering on the ground while I step on him."

"You know exactly that he will kill me if I do that."

"Oh, well. It was worth a shot."

Asmodeus

DRAW HIM LIKE ONE OF YOUR FRENCH DEMONS

Please, the moment he notices that you're drawing him he's going to strike poses left and right

"Let me fix the light real quick! Oh, I how do I look? Is my hair sitting correctly? Oh, why am I even asking? Of course it does!"

It's not the first time that someone either draws him or takes a picture of him, but with you it's special

Now you have to show him your entire notebook! He has to know if there are more portraits of him!

And there are. Most of them are him in an absolutely relaxed position and often times when he's not dolled up at all

"Why didn't you tell me? I would have gotten ready!"

"You looked the most beautiful in these moments. I didn't wanna disturb them- are you crying?"

"No! OF COURSE I AM!"

Beelzebub

Please, to him you're the most talented artist he has ever seen! And he doesn't hold back with that thought!

One time you drew food just for fun and he ate the entire paper, because it looked way too good. You have to admit that that's quite the high compliment

And Beel has such beautiful and drawable features so how couldn't you put that on a piece of paper?

"Can I see what you're doing?"

The hungry demon gets to lost in it that he's just silent for a very long time. It gets to a point where you worried that he might not like it

"I can throw it away if you want to."

"No, why? I love it."

He never really realized how good he looks until now

"Can I keep it?"

Belphegor

Our sleeping beauty over here is perfect to draw considering he sleeps so still that one might think he actually died

One time you don't even notice that he woke up from his nap and is wondering what you're so focused on

It's only when he leans over to get a peak inside your notebook. You quickly hide the drawings of him, but it's too late for that now. The damage is done and you brace yourself for his teasing

"Wow, you must really like me."

"Shut up."

"This is some Levi-level simping."

"I SAID SHUT UP!"

You guys wrestle over the notebook for a little while until he grows tired of it and lays down again with a yawn

"Fine. Keep your secrets. Your notebook is probably full with my face anyways."

"No."

"Next thing I will find out is that you have a shrine dedicated to me."

"You're such an ass."

"But a pretty one."

---

Masterlist

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daisygirlwrites · 1 year

Text

Task Force 141 + Reader (Callsign-Crash): friendship headcanons

a/n: Hello hello! Just some random headcanons that I had written down for Crash and her relationships with the members of the 141 team. Nothing romantic, just some wholesome stuff.

original gif by @collinnmckinley

also, this is really freaking long, sorry in advance. enjoy reading!

Before getting thrown out the window and getting her callsign, she was quiet and shy around the group. Opting to listen to others conversations, rarely adding to it.

Honestly intimidated with how tightly knit the team is, and given her previous team’s history, she was scared to get close.

Volunteered to be the DD whenever the group goes out to a bar. Fortunately, most of the time, Ghost is sober(enough) to help her get everyone into the car and into their rooms

Would silently comfort Soap and Gaz whenever they threw up, rubbing their backs and getting them water.

In the mornings after, she got everyone a breakfast burrito. Soap and Gaz are eternally grateful. Got a little information about her when they asked why she got them food. “Help with my hangovers during college.” Soap and Gaz gave each other a look as she walks away

After the window incident, Crash becomes a lot more open. Seeing how they treat her as if she has been with them for years, it wasn’t fair to them with how closed off she was.

Soap:

He talks to you a lot and you don’t mind. He just comes out and starts rambling on whatever he has interested him at that moment. You don’t really say anything, just sitting there awkwardly (because why would he want to talk to the newbie instead of his friends) but nodding to what he says anyways. One time though, he looks at you and says “Thanks for listening to me. It’s nice to have someone not tell me to ‘Shut the fuck up Mactavish.’”

Literally you after he tells you this:

“you’re my friend now. we’re having soft tacos later” vibes

Would send him memes and funny videos whenever you guys are on leave

His contact name on your phone is “Bubbles”

Would show you how to make bombs out of random shit. Set them off in bare fields or abandon buildings. Had a couple close calls

Will let you call him Johnny but you call him Mac instead.

“Aww, why not, lassie?”

“I’d rather not get my ass beat by your boyfriend.”

Calls you Lassie along with your callsign. When he wants to piss you off, he calls you Mini Ghost or Little Ghost

Like Ghost, you rarely take off your balaclava and tactical glasses

“The mask, take it off.”

“Nah, I don’t wanna.”

“You ugly?”

“Not as ugly as you old man.”

Has yet to seen you drunk though and he intends to get you there some day

Holds his hand when he’s throwing up

You would use him as a pillow during rides back to the base

The first person to tell him about any drama that’s happening in your life

Gives you advice about men

"Men are stupid, trust me, I am one."

Loves it when you would go on ramblings about the things you like. Anime confuses the hell out of him but he would always ask you about the plot and your favorite characters. He’d ask you about the current artist you listen to and has a list of recommendations from you so he could look them up when he gets home

After a mission gone wrong and believing that it was his fault, you seek him out, finding him sitting alone in the meeting room. You tell him

“It’s going to be okay. I trust you, John.”

He tears up and you wrap your arms around him.

Gaz:

With you two being the youngest, you bond over similar experiences

Sometimes share exactly one brain cell with each other. Sometimes you, Gaz and Soap share a brain cell

Brings out the chaotic gen z energy of each other

Your guys’ energy:

Follows each other on social media and would send each other tiktoks at ungodly hours

Kind of have a competition against each other to see who’s Price’s favorite child is

Gaz finally has someone who he can talk about anime with

Favorite shows to watch together: Cowboy Bebop, Samurai Champloo and Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure

Similar music taste. The whole team listens to Queen, David Bowie, Pink Floyd and a few more others. However, Gaz and Crash have the same love of rap and indie pop. Anything they find on tiktok will be added to their shared Spotify playlist.

Gaz would ask about how college was like. He thought about going but ultimately for him, the military was the better option

“Were you part of a sorority?”

“Oh hell no. Loved going to the parties though. Always had top shelf vodka.”

“Really? Thought students couldn’t afford it.”

“When it comes to alcohol, we find a way.”

Share the same sentiment of feeling like they’re not doing enough in the team. After a particularly rough mission, you two would find a corner and just sit together in silence.

Would break the silence by quoting something from vine or tiktok and all things would be okay again

Price:

He has adoption papers ready

Crash, despite your name, is polite, respectful and responsible. Would always help Price clean up after meetings and briefs

Same with Soap, you would listen quietly to Price’s war stories and even his favorite fishing trips

Saw in your file about what happened to your old team and captain. Vows to never pull the same stunt as them

Sadden to see how you’re so young and has seen and dealt with many things already. It breaks his heart that there’s more that you’ll experience.

You, Soap and Gaz would do dumb shit all the time but you knew when it was the right time to bail. Of course, they would snitch on you to Price. You’d rarely get in trouble though

Basically you two:

Would gift him cigars from the countries you’d visit during leave

Also a matching set of torch lighters. His has a special green flame while yours is pink.

You don’t smoke anymore but you would hangout with him and help him finish reports together.

Price often thinks about a life where he didn’t join the military. A life of normalcy. To go to a home filled with life.

Would have loved to have kids and technically, he still can but his job makes it almost impossible.

But with Gaz and now you, you two are his pride and joy.

Would be the “hip” dad and will always ask about the new slang and memes

“This food is-what you kids call it...uh, busting!”

You and Gaz look at each other, “It’s bussin’.”

“This food is bussin’!”

Ghost:

Did not to want to get close to you at all.

Was honestly peeved when Price told him that he was going to mentor you

“I don’t want to play babysitter, Captain.”

Surprised to see how short you were. All of the rumors and information he was told, they never mention your size

At first, he hated how you would follow him around like a lost puppy.

“Leave me alone, go bother Soap or something.”

Doesn’t miss the flash of hurt in your eyes but you turn around anyways.

Before you joined, he, Price and Laswell were all sitting in Price’s office, his phone on speaker. He was reading over your file before Price’s contact said

“She reminds me of Ghost when I worked with him seven years ago.”

He looks up from the folder, Price’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise and Laswell nodding.

“I think we’ll have her transferred to us,” Price replies.

Hates to admit but he’s impressed. Thought the rumors was bullshit but you proved him wrong, time and time again

You still have a lot of things to learn and even more practice to do but he believes in you

Does not go easy. He’s merciless. Has put you down countless times and reprimanded you more. You would always leave training sessions with a new bruise. The rest of the team gets concerned with his training methods.

But you still get up and you blink away the tears whenever he shouts at you

At about five months after you joined, on a mission, you spot an enemy behind him before he does and without a word, you quickly take your knife out and throw it towards the man behind him.

He opens his mouth to yell at you but he sees the enemy on the corner of his eye and watch him slump down. Your knife stuck in his bleeding neck

Gives you a nod after that. Pulling out your knife and handing it back to you

Knife throwing would be one of the training sessions you’d do. It was also a good time for some small chat

Finds out that you’re also a part of the “Dead Mom, Shitty Dad” club

It takes a year for him to SLIGHTLY open up to you

Told you about one of his favorite dishes his mom made and his favorite Queen song was ‘You’re My Best Friend’

Even told you how he likes his Earl Grey prepared

It scares him of how much you remind him of his mom and brother. You have her kindness and his determination. He will never tell you this

You, along with the team, become the very thing he cares about and will protect you to the best of his ability.

Bonus:

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blue-sadie · 9 months

Text

Sun Bathing

Neteyam, Lo'ak x Neteyams Best Friend Reader x Aonung, Rotxo

Summary: the boys can get quite annoying hopefully this would keep them away for some time

Warning: the boys are perverts, jerking off, only male pleasure, aged up characters

It wasn't everyday I just got to breathe and relax, but here I am sun bathing in my sport bra and shorts chatting away with tsireya and kiri.

"Don't look now but there's creeps in the bush" kiri stated glancing over her shoulder towards the boys who were kneeling a few meters away whispering away with eachother.

"Should we move" tsireya asked sitting up to look at us, I sighed in disapproval "why should we their the ones being pervs" I muttered only glancing towards the boys who jerk away from sight when they saw that they were caught.

I rolled my eyes 'freaks' I layed my arm over my eyes sheltering them from the burning sun "you might be ok with them watching you but I think me and tsireya are gonna go" kiri said and they both said their goodbyes before leaving.

I let out a relaxed sigh quickly rolling my shoulders and getting comfortable on the warmed sand "look what we have here" aonung laughed bashfully as he and the rest of the boys surrounded me.

I only lifted my arm to look at neteyam "I didn't know you were apart of the common pervs nete" I murmured making him blush and shy away "im not a pervert" he tried sounding confident but his words ended in a slight squeak.

"Well I mean have you seen what you look like" lo'ak clapped and he stared down at me with hungry eyes "now now boys I'm relaxing go jerk off some place else" I shooed them away only making them laugh.

"But your just so sexy sitting here in the sun" aonung bit his lip as he folded his arms over his chest "and you like a prepubescent teen now shoo" I muttered getting annoyed at them disturbing me.

"You can do something for us first sweetcheeks" lo'ak groaned as he grabbed his crotch making aonung and rotxo laugh, I exhaled forcefully and slowly rose to my cheeks.

"Fine but you guys owe my 5 months without chores" I said making the boys howl out in excitement "come on" lo'ak muttered and grabbed my hand pulling me into the forest the others following very closely.

When we came into a clearing far from the village did he finally let me go "are you sure about this yn" neteyam whispered to me his voice full of concern.

"If it gets you guys to leave me alone" I giggled and pulled my top off making his eyes bulge "f-fuck" he stuttered.

Aonung pulled me to a rock and pushed me down on it and they crowed around me, Lo'ak reached out his hand and caressed my cheek.

"Will you guys leave me alone after this" I asked and gasped as aonung grabbed my breasts "well it was a deal wasn't it" he groaned and pitched my nibbles making me moan in pain.

They pulled off my clothes leaving me bare and the gaped at my body and started touching themselves as they said all the things they wanted to do to me.

I started caressing myself teasing them slowly making themselves jerk off faster and groan at my teasing, I dragged my fingertips up and down my body leaving goosebumps along my body.

"C-cuming" "fuck" they cussed as the cam spraying their cum on me, making me gasp, they calmed down and helped me clean up and walk back to the beach.

Let's just say they didn't keep to their end of the deal

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hyacinthsdiamonds · 11 months

Text

I think part of the reason why I find Max and Charles' dynamic so fascinating is because if anybody created original characters with their basic backstory they would be called out for pushing the narrative too hard but it's literally just basic well known facts about them and things we've seen happen, it's insane like

They're born sixteen days apart.

Their star sign is Libra, the sign of balance, equilibrium.

A complete and utter coincidence and Charles of course had his own personal reasons for choosing his number, but his number also happens to be the same about days that separate their birthdays.

They literally grew up racing each other.

They hated each other as kids.

"I am just as good as him/we're equals in experience etc"

The way they talked about each other to journalists and in their blogs while they were karting lmao.

The incident!

The comparisons since the beginning to Senna and Prost, two of the sports goats and one of the greatest rivalry in F1's history.

Max recommended Charles to be his replacement when he left his team to move onto to the next stage.

There's something poetic about them being born in the year of the ox and Max driving for red BULL. Also 2021 in which Max won his first championship was also the year of the ox and I am completely normal about it after just finding out about five minutes ago -

The slowburn of the relationship, lifelong rivals but friends now too.

The way they talk about each other.

The fact they're each other's biggest defenders.

I am sorry but Charles running off track after getting distracted by Max and then hitting his head on a golf cart again after getting distracted by Max is something I expect to see in romcom or a fic but no both of these things actually happened in Abu Dhabi 2021 on the same night lmao.

The fact they don't follow each other on Instagram and yet interact with posts about the other that someone else posted.

The reason why they don't follow each other lmao, I still cackle thinking of Charles - literally on Max's freaking plane going home to Monaco after Austria 2019 - looking over at Max to see if he noticed that he'd unfollowed him.

Max was known as the inevitable. Charles is the predestined one. Like hello?!!!

There's more but like??!!! The fact this is real life and not a movie is insane sometimes - Guess it's true what they say, truth is stranger than fiction

#f1 #max verstappen #charles leclerc #lestappen

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