#hacking your brain in real time

[bread-tab]

[Recording internal dialogue]

Prediction.Algorithm Output: My immediate future is looking All Fucked Up.

"It's my own fault for overdoing it yesterday, I am so unreliable, I'm going to get fired—"

Destructive train of thought identified. Redirect.

"The smartest thing to do right now would be calling in. I'm already very late, and resting in the meantime has not decreased my pain levels. This doesn't happen unless I'm genuinely in serious physical or mental distress."

Premise accepted.

"I've been in distress too often recently."

Objection irrelevant. Dismissed.

"I don't want to call in."

Emotional obstacle identified: Anxiety.

Analyzing inputs from AnxietyTrigger matrix, indexing: [

0 {"phone call", mild},

1 {"disappointed authority figure", severe},

2 {"disappointed self", moderate}

]

Trigger items {0, 2} exported to UseYourSkills.DistressTolerance queue. Deferred.

Trigger item 1 identified as hypothetical. Applying stored principles from coping modules.

Loading Social.AnxietyDiffusion method...

Output: "Give people the chance to be kind to you."

Risk assessment: 15% chance of failure.

Loading Bribe.DopamineReward method...

Output: "If you make that phone call, you can have a cookie. And get that Murderbot audiobook you want."

Parameters within acceptable range.

Generating new Plan {

Make phone call.

Acquire items ["audiobook", "cookie"].

Consume items.

}

Prediction.Algorithm Output: My immediate future is looking okay.

Initializing Plan...

...

...

...

[External dialogue]

*ringing*

"Hey! What's up?"

"Hey boss... Uh... I'm feeling sick."

"Got it. Well, go get some rest and feel better."

"Thanks."

[External dialogue ends.]

...

...

...

Plan executed successfully.

Editing risk assessment parameter: Social.Anxiety/kindnessChance {failure rate}

Value = 15%

Value = 12%

Changes saved.

[Internal dialogue ends. Archived to TimesYouDidntSuckAtLifeAfterAll.database]

[shadow-pixelle]

I wonder if speedsters in the DCU get that ADHD buzzy thing where you end up in paralysis because you have so many things to do that you can't do any of them. That must be even more annoying when your brain runs at hyperspeed.

[luludeluluramblings]

Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Five

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Six ☁️ Part Seven ☁️ Part Eight

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Starting to realize I need to slow down, things are really getting complicated and I want everything to be included. Including proper warnings and important plot details and to really keep things more polished.

A/N: Also, going through the doubts on my writing, but we is gonna persevere, y’all. I’m going to take some time to focus on Obsessions.

Warning(s): Yandere themes, Obsessive behavior, Kidnapping, Vomiting, Slight Stalking

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

After running Date’s life, Tim starts to investigate Reader full throttle. Before it was just something he did to relax between cases when he couldn’t shut off his brain. Now, he didn’t want to miss anything. Not a single detail. He’d also been having trouble digging up an information on reader’s small town.

Apparently, they weren’t up to date on their technology. Can’t hack computers for information if the computers don’t exist. Still, it was nice to find out about Reader’s childhood. (Making notes for Bruce to add certain flora and fauna to the Manor’s garden and looking up any restaurants in Gotham that he could possibly take Reader too. You know, as friends.) But, Tim was nothing if not stubborn.

Reader, having a bit of whiplash from Dick’s comforting and sudden departure starts trying to fill their time by hanging out with Cassandra, Duke, and/or Stephanie.

They also call back home informing Nana about the Date incident. Surprisingly enough, Nana was sympathetic. (Though Reader couldn’t help thinking she was using that condescending small town sarcasm. Maybe they’d just been in Gotham for too long?) Regardless, Nana lends a comforting ear and even talks about BFF and their older brother, Childhood Crush, to Reader in an attempt to distract them. Telling them what the two have been up to. (How much they miss you. They can’t wait for you to come home visit.)

Reader, however, is a tad more concerned with Younger Brother. Making sure to ask how he is fairing and if he could come visit them in Gotham for a bit. Just to give Nana and Grand Daddy a much needed break since their age is catching up with them. (Aren’t you so sweet? Caring so much for your real family.)

But, Nana brushes reader off. No need, he’s been hanging out with Childhood Crush and BFF. They’ve really taken him under their wing. (They’d make great a great partners. Don’t you think, dear?) It does arouse Reader’s suspicions, but when they call their Younger Brother, he sounds… fine… Said he was having more fun with BFF than Childhood Crush, but that’s a given. (BFF knows Reader best, and won’t let anything happen to him or Reader.) They’re probably overthinking things about things back home. (That pang of homesickness just doesn’t seem to go away.)

At school, however, things were changing.

Damian wasn’t lying to himself about scaring off Reader’s friends. A few started to avoid Reader suddenly. But, a few, mostly the wealthier ones, stayed close. Not at all bothered by Damian’s sudden campaign. Some even introducing Reader to their closer circles.

Reader’s happy to have more friends, but the loss of Date and Reader’s more down to earth friends weighed on them. Reader’s new group felt like an isolated bubble cage that encloses tightly around them (and wouldn’t let them go.)

Bruce has been pretty strict about who Reader spends time with since the gala. But, Reader, going stir crazy when Cass, Steph, and Duke, respectively, are to busy (have patrol and missions), decides to ask Barbara if they can hang out with her. (A stranger is better than nothing.)

Tim’s seems to be too busy with whatever he’s doing. (He’s technically spending time on Reader, rather than with Reader.) Reader loves Alfred, but they’re always helping him cook. Dick’s gone off on some errand in Buldhaven or Gotham (Reader can’t remember, they’re a bit annoyed by how finicky he can be with giving Reader attention.). Jason might actually choke reader if they suggest hanging out. And, Reader is still pissed at Damian for being a rude little shit (Plus, they suspect he has something to do with their friends leaving them. They just can’t prove it.)

Barbara agrees to bring Reader to work with her at the Gotham City Library. Fully expecting Reader to mostly stay to themselves or possibly sneak off. (As members of the family are prone to do.) She is pleasantly surprised that Reader actually tends to stay by her side. Of course, Reader goes and gets a few books to curl up with. But, they quietly chat with Barbara, occasionally assisting with task, and mostly just enjoy silent companionship.

Reader doesn’t expect Barbara to entertain them, they can entertain themselves. They just don’t want to be alone at the moment. (Reader hates being alone when they’re sad. Hate. Hate. Hates it.) Barbara finds the silent and soft companionship to be a balm for the soul, so to speak. There’s no pressure. No duty. Just companionship. (It’s eases her mind how Reader is willing to stay safe. They’re not being dramatic or doing something foolish. I can get used to this.)

After the day is over, Barbara reports how Reader behaved back to Bruce. (Didn’t wander, stayed close by, wasn’t rude or sarcastic. That Gala had to have been a fluke. It has to be those horrible friends of Reader’s corrupting them.) If anything, it builds a level of trust with Bruce that Reader can be cautious and they won’t have to worry about them leaving. (Running away. Ha!)

Bruce decides Reader deserves a little more trust. (He wants to spoil his child.) Giving them more leeway to spend time in Gotham. But, only with members of the family. Which would be fine, if they were available. There’s, unfortunately, been an Arkham Breakout.

The entire family is on high alert for the next few days, especially since Joker escaped this time. (Hell, no. The family isn’t risking it. They won’t allow it. If Joker does something to Reader he’s dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Batman won’t stop anyone for killing him this time if he dares.) The family prioritize his capture, even recruiting the Gotham Sirens and the Superfamily to get the job done. It’s probably the fastest Joker’s ever been caught. (Joker is definitely pissed over the matter. And, will be making it everyone’s problem next time he gets out. What are you protecting Batsy? What are you trying to hide from me? Are we not friends?

Reader gets a brief introduction to Clark Kent during this ordeal. Before, Reader had only seen Conner and Jon around the manor hanging out with Damian and Tim respectively. (Conner would always try to flirt, which annoyed Reader. And, Jon was avoid on principle of being near Damian. Though, Reader was nice if they caught him alone in the manor. Which was growing more frequent recently.)

Clark is charmed, surprised by the Reader having grown up in a Smalltown. For Reader, it’s nice to meet someone who understands the longing for simplicity. Though Clark personally felt like he had something bigger to achieve outside of his town. Still they appreciate each other’s mindset. (Clark also wouldn’t mind inviting Reader out to the Kent farm. It would be fun to annoy Bruce. Plus, Reader is clearly struggling in Gotham. He’s not wrong.)

With Joker locked up, the family relaxes… Somewhat. They still have the rest of the rouge gallery to catch and have to work overtime to do it. Hardly any of them are seen outside the Batcave, which Reader is eighty-four percent certain is in the library.

Reader spends a lot of time pacing the halls. Looking at the paintings and furniture. It’s lonely. It’s like living in a house that’s haunted by ghost you’re supposed to know, but don’t. (If I have to live in a house haunted by ghost, I’d rather be haunted by the ones that loved me. I wanna go home. I want Momma and Daddy. I hate being alone. I hate it here.)

Stephanie, however, having made plans with Reader, finally gets a chance to take them out into Gotham. It takes a nearly a week, but they do manage to get out into the city together. Stephanie showing Reader all her favorite sights, pointing out landmarks and fun things. It’s possibly the funnest day Reader’s had since coming to Gotham. Arcades, Ice Skating, food trucks, street performers, it’s all new and exciting.

Nothing good last in Reader’s life it seems.

In broad daylight, Reader is forcefully grabbed and thrown into the back of a truck.

There’s a massive down side to being Bruce Wayne’s child. You easily get taken hostage and held for ransom.

Stephanie is helpless. She can only watch it happen too far away to make it to Reader in time. The horror and fear on Reader’s face made her stomach turn violently.

She immediately called Barbara to start tracking the vehicle and the thugs, sending an alert out to the entire family.

Once done she couldn’t stop herself from letting the disgust and shame bubble from her gut out on to the pavement. Just the thought of Reader being hurt making her physically ill. (Give them back. How dare they take what’s mine? It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left them alone. They’re helpless without me.)

[ay-chuu]

DISCOVER. L, I, M, P, Say it.

!! (Self aware bsd boys)

WARNING! Obsessive behaviour in some and angst.

A/N: Sorry for any grammer mistake i made!!

Self aware!Dazai, Chuuya, Jouno, Fyodor, Ranpo, Sigma x Gn! Reader

You really was the most airheaded human, in Dazai's eyes. Because he learned everything about you in just few weeks, while you only knew him as a popular 2d... character? Dazai knew he didnt thought himself as a human but being a non human in different world with a canon fact hurted him. He's not gonna even talking about the... writer version himself in your life. He just wanted something really clearly over his life and it was YOU. You, who made him self aware by mistake. You who made him fell for someone really. You, who made him want to live for a little longer to know you...

"Cute." Chuuya thought. You were really looking cute trying to sew a plush version of him while looking at the manga's colored page to match his features. He hated it when you closed the page tho. Yes he could always try to put himself that is connected with his... other self's but manga was the easiest one since he was origannly from here. He wondered. What would you look like in here too? Would you have powers? Would you meet him? Would you be... his love interest? Well he was never gonna know the truth. The only truth that he know was he was falling- no. Already fallen in love with you.

Jouno hated how stupid and complicated this situation was. And he hated how he couldn't do anything, even a simple thing for you. He hated how pathetic this... no he was. He fallen for you, who was a REAL different version of human. Who was in another reality. He knew that you didn't even knew what you did to him. In your eyes, he was just a character that you enjoyed... reading. Ah he guessed that life was giving him a punishment because of his brutal actions for others. How brutal....

You really wondered that if your pc got a virus or something. Because everytime you try to search or write something there was a thing that made you remember fyodor. Like when you try to an essay for your study, your computer would always write "fyodor" that any word that starts with f. Or when you opened a website you would always see fyodor's manga version. But you thought you just freaked out because... what kind of virus would do that right? Wrong. You were wrong for thinking you were wrong. Fyodor, who hacked all of your system would always make you remember who loves you most. He wanted to engrave himself into your subconscious. Because one day, when he finds a way to bring you into his universe, you would not lose your way to find him...

Ranpo had always thought he was smart. Or rather, it was like that in the past... Because ever since he met you, he saw himself as the smallest-brained person in the world. No matter how hard he tries, no matter how many times he reaches different thoughts, he couldn't reach you. While you could always reach him with a single page turn or google, he barely understood that you were from another universe... At first he thought you were just one of the games of Poe's books. He wished you were. Maybe if you were, he would never have fallen in love with you so hard...

Sigma was so surprised when he was able to discover you for the first time. But more than being surprised, he felt very close to you. Because you... were like a different universe version of him. He was born from a book. For him, you were a book that born in a different universe and watching him. The day you read the story about him and smiled because you felt close to him, he realized that he was in love with you. But if there was one part that wasn't surprising at all for him, it was that he couldn't reach you. Ah, because it wasn't just people playing with him all his life. His life was the biggest user playing with him. After all, It didnt change the fact ... he was really just a written person. In any reality.

[milykins]

Hacked

I felt like I needed to redeem myself with Donnie since I’ve had a couple comments where people expressed feeling sad that I had a girl scream and run away from him in a previous headcanon. I thought maybe I should give him something sweet and fluffy. Added some fun quotes as well.

Special thanks to @iridescentflamingo @the-cauldron-witch @avery73 and @sophiacloud28 for all of your help with this story, editing it and helping me with ideas! I hope you enjoy reading it!

Aged up TMNT x Reader

TW: None: Donnie's system keeps getting hacked into and he gets increasingly more frustrated.

“No I’m not playing hard to get! I’m telling you, Sir, it’s not that kind of phone line!”

“It’s always the time for accuracy, Leo.”

“When you put it like that it sounds ridiculous.”

“Let me be the bad-ass for once.”

On the outside, Donatello was the brain, the tech-wizard, the tinkerer. A master of all things technological and a true intellectual able to solve a Rubik’s cube in less than 20 seconds. If it was broken, Donnie could fix it, if it was a seemingly impossible situation, Donnie could figure it out. His three brothers relied heavily on him because he was the smartest, even Leo because there were some questions even he couldn’t answer. This is how it had always been, and he didn’t mind for the most part. He did feel like he was a valuable asset to the team if not a bit overused.

On the inside however, he was the shy one, the introvert, the one who secretly feared being alone forever while slowly descending into madness from his own self-induced seclusion.

Despite Chief Vincent telling them they’d be accepted by society, the collective agreement to stay hidden remained. It had served them well, why mess with it? As they aged into adulthood, it became glaringly obvious. Loneliness, the fear of being forgotten after their father passed on. The crushing reality that he may very well die alone.

He wasn’t like his brothers. Mikey had gotten himself on the scene pretty easily and had made friends and had girlfriends. Raph too, had managed to snag someone, even no-nonsense Leo had. That just left him and he couldn’t help but think. What was the point of having all of this intelligence, creating all of these wonderful inventions, all of the things he’d built… if there was no one but his brothers to share it with?

Donnie acted like it didn’t bother him but secretly he felt it: a sort of crushing loneliness that seemed to stretch on and on. Sadly, he’d sort of given up on meeting someone. It just wasn’t in the cards for him… or was it?

It had started off innocently enough, one day he’d come to work on his computer and noticed something was… off. His desktop looked normal but none of the icons worked when he clicked on them. It didn’t take him long to realize it was a false desktop placed on top of the real one. Odd, he thought. Who had managed to even do this? He’d had the best firewalls and encryptions and security that not even the FBI could crack. Yet, he’d been hacked, someone had hacked him.

He blew out a breath of disbelief, ran a diagnostic and fixed the issue in no time. He did a careful sweep and found nothing else out of the ordinary. He chalked it up to a fluke and went on with his day thinking that was the end of it.

Then it happened again. Upon sitting down in his computer chair he noticed his taskbar was horizontal.

“What the hell..?” He fixed it and upped his security and left it at that.

A week after that all of his icons were replaced with Hello Kitty characters. He was beginning to feel annoyed. Who was doing this, and why? It seemed like they just wanted to mess with him. Frustratingly he couldn’t figure out how they kept getting in. Every time, he strengthened his security it didn’t seem to matter!

He reached his breaking point the following week when he was re-routed to a popular Pokemon meme every time he clicked on something. He was going to find this person and ask them to stop. They weren’t that hard to trace and soon he was purposefully typing a message.

Please stop, you’ve had your fun but it’s getting old

No :)

Seriously, you don’t know who you’re messing with.

Someone who can’t even stop a low-level hacker, clearly.

Who are you?

No one :)

Why are you doing this?

I’m bored, it’s fun

Bored?! How did you even find me? These servers are highly encrypted!

LOL not enough… I was just bouncing around and found them.

Are you with the Foot?

What?! No? I told you, I was bored and saw your shit, and took it as a challenge.

A challenge indeed. Stop this now, this is your final warning.

He broke off their connection then because that had better be it.

Of course, it wasn’t. One boring Saturday night, he was zoned out, totally engrossed in one of his projects. His computer screen flickers a moment. He almost doesn’t see it thinking it’s a trick of the light but it does it again. Curiously, he moved to his computer screen. When he realized what was happening, he actually laughed.

“Seriously? Again?! They have no idea who they’re messing with…”

It was clear that this was same someone who had been hacking him for weeks was trying to get into his system again.

“I’ve got you this time…” His fingers fly over his larger-than-normal keyboard as he managed to secure a one-way live video feed.

“Someone forgot to cover their webcam…” He sang, “Hello, you’ve been hacked by Donatello, I thought I already told you to cease and desist.”

You are absolutely mortified. You’d been doing this for fun, and had no ulterior motives. Truthfully you had been bored and loved a challenge. Yes, you were warned but you didn’t think he would hack your webcam! Immediately, you attempted to hide, hoping he didn’t catch a glimpse of your face.

On his end, Donnie first heard a soft, distinctly feminine gasp and a string of curses. There’s a flurry of movement as you tried to move out of the range of the camera and swiftly stick a piece of tape over it. More shuffling followed, along with the sound of you returning to your computer chair.

He can’t help but feel amused. “There’s no point in hiding, I saw you. How did you think this was going to go?” He waited patiently for you to answer.

You swore softly. The cat’s out of the bag. Swallowing your embarrassment you gingerly peeled the tape off. It didn’t take you long to notice that the video feed only went one way. That was unfair and you intended to change that.

“Sorry…” you murmered. Shit, shit, shit! I’m gonna get you for that!

He took a moment to get a good look at you. Even with the soft lighting of what he assumed to be your bedroom, he could still make out your pink cheeks, flushed flushed with embarrassment and the bridge of freckles across your nose. It was… cute.

“Sorry?” He echoed. “That’s it? You still didn’t answer my question.”

“Do I have to?” You’re trying to keep him talking while your fingers worked their magic. If he could do it… so could you.

“No, but I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me alone. You’ve had your fun, go bother someone else, please.” He replies.

“But I like bothering you.” Almost there… just a few more seconds…

Donnie has to scoff at that. “You don’t even know me.”

“Not yet… there you are!” You cheered as you manage to tap into his own webcam.

In a split-second Donnie had instantly ascertained that she’d been distracting him. To his horror, the little red light of his webcam had blinked to life. Two seconds too long which meant he’d been seen…

“FUCK!” Immediately he cut the power, sending it straight through to your house. He was panicking, he’d been compromised, he was going to have to wipe her computer, all of her hard drives. His heart was pounding and his breathing had quickened as he tried to tamp down the panic he felt. No, maybe he’ll just find her… ask her to keep his secret…? All options were equally bad. What do I do…?!

Luckily, it didn’t take long for that powerful brain of his to think of a solution, albeit a temporary one. His fingers flew over the keyboard once again, restoring power on her side before getting to work.

You were utterly confused. Two seconds ago, maybe five…? Once the webcam was active, you saw what appeared to be the green, blurred image of his face. Was he wearing a mask? You heard the panic in his voice and the ensuing curse word right before your entire room was plunged into darkness. What. The. Hell. Just. Happened?

Just as quickly, it all came back and your computer was rebooting. Okay… you attempted to type once it was all back up and running but something was wrong. Nothing was clickable, nothing worked save for the cursor on your screen. Furrowing your brow, you kept trying, but to no avail. Then, something finally.

A message popped up on your screen and you wasted no time in reading it.

Apologies, I had no choice but to freeze your system. I promise I will explain everything but I need to do it in person. Meet me here:

There was an address to a building between two cross streets and he was asking you to climb the fire escape to the roof.

At first, you scoffed in disbelief. Hell no, you weren’t going to meet some stranger on a rooftop at some weird location. Did he think you were stupid?

Then, as if your mind is being read, another message popped up under the first.

I understand if this is something you might be uncomfortable doing but my identity and the safety of my family is at stake so I must give you an ultimatum. Meet me or your computer will remain frozen.

You swore softly to yourself. This wasn’t something you could fix on your own and you knew it.

You murmured a sarcastic reply. “Well, damn, I guess I’ll just go die then,”

He was giving you no choice and you needed your computer, not only for work, but it had everything. You considered it one of your most precious items. After a minute you’d made up your mind but you still packed your taser and pepper spray just in case.

Donnie was an absolute bundle of nerves. He’d already arrived at the location and was pacing back and forth while sticking to the shadows. He was berating himself about how stupid this plan was. She wasn’t going to show up, but he’d giving her no choice. He did feel a twinge of guilt but years upon years of lectures from Leo had made him be extra cautious. He couldn’t risk his family’s safety because he was careless.

You were nervous too as you carefully climbed the steps of the fire escape. Luckily, the building was only four floors but you still would’ve liked to take an elevator. Reaching the top, you took a moment to catch your breath.

“I do… computers… not stairs… you better be here.” Upon first glance you don’t see anyone and your annoyance grows. “Hello? Please don’t tell me I came all this way for nothing, I just want my computer back.”

Again, there was no reply.

Talking to yourself you groan. “Fuck… you are such an idiot…”

Donnie was only slightly panicking. To his amazement and relief, you showed up. In his anxious state he did manage to notice you looked kind of pretty despite the frown gracing your features. He felt frozen the moment he saw you but snapped out of it pretty quickly when he saw you about to leave.

“Wait!”

You turned. It was actually him. You recognized his voice prompting you walk closer to the source.

“Hello? If you’re here please show yourself. This is sus enough as it is and I’m already over it.” You couldn’t mask the exasperation in your tone. This was already beyond ridiculous.

Donnie had to admit he found her frustrated tone kind of endearing. In a fleeting thought he’d felt she was someone who could match wits with him.

 “Okay, okay, hold on, I’m coming out. Just… do me a favour and don’t scream, please.”

Arching an eyebrow you repeated. “Don’t scream? What kind of question is… oh.” You saw one extremely long leg and then another followed by a lengthy torso and a very green… okay, that’s definitely not human face. “Oh… so it wasn’t a mask…” It wasn’t as though he was unpleasant to look at though, just different.

He was trying his best to control his breathing, bracing himself for some kind of negative reaction. When none came, he took a breath and spoke, trying to keep his tone as even and neutral as possible.

“You see, when you hacked my webcam, you had unwittingly put me and and the safety of my family at risk… this is why I had to s-see you and why I froze your computer.” He was cursing himself inwardly for stuttering.

You were still trying to find your voice. You had SO many questions and actually still a bit annoyed. “First off… how…? You’re a turtle… I doubt anyone would even believe me… and… second… I didn’t even really see you! It was a complete blur and then you cut my power!” You exhaled as you took another breath. “NOW, I’m seeing you.”

Donnie couldn’t help but flinch a little. “I had to make sure, I had no idea how much of me you did see.” A soft sigh followed before he continued., pinching his skin just below where the bridge of his glasses was resting. “And if you had listened when I told you to stop, we wouldn’t be in this situation, now would we?”

He’s got you there and unconsciously you bite your lower lip. The stubborn part of you, however, wasn’t ready to admit defeat yet. “Well, how was I supposed to know that you were a… seven foot…”

“I’m six feet, eight inches.” He interrupted with his matter-of-fact correction.

Another exasperated exhale from you. “Sorry, six foot, eight inch… turtle man!” emphasizing your point, you gestured wildly at the full length of him with your arms. “Who’s apparently so good at hacking that my entire network is completely frozen and I had to drag my ass across town to beg you to unfreeze it!”

He was a little amused by this, he had to admit as his mouth quirked a smile. “Like, I said, I had to be sure, and might I remind you once again… you were the one messing with me.”

“Yeah! Because you were fun to mess with! It was giving me a chance to practice, and it was just innocent fun, it’s not like I could do what you did! And… AND you wanna talk about an invasion of privacy? You hacked my webcam first!”

Donnie blinked, she was really getting all worked up now, and he was trying not to stoop to her level. He was failing. “I only did it because I didn’t think you’d stop! I gave you fair warning.”

“I would’ve stopped!” He doesn’t believe you at all and you hate that because he’s right, messing with him had been too much fun.

“Really?” he deadpanned.

“Yes,” you stubbornly replied.

There’s no stopping his eyeroll at that. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

She crossed her arms with another soft huff. “Fine, don’t believe me.” A shrug followed. “So, now what?”

The tall turtle paused. Usually, he had all the answers but now that he’d frozen her computer and dragged her all the way out here, he felt at a loss of what to say. “I… I just wanted to make sure you’d keep my secret and not tell anyone.”

“Okay… I won’t.” A simple answer, and a truthful one. You watched as he looked at you a long moment. No doubt wondering if he could trust you or not.

Donnie was actually subtly checking for very slight facial cues to determine whether you were lying to him or not. He could tell that your heart rate appeared to be steady. Your gaze never wavered from his, no dilation of her pupils and no mouth tics either. He believed you.

“Okay.” He finally said. “Thank you. I’ll unfreeze everything once I get home.” He turned to leave. “Please get home safely.”

Wait… that was it? Just like that, he was leaving!? “Wait!” You rushed forward to grab his arm. “Wait… that’s it?”

He looked… confused? He had immediately zeroed in on your hand clutching his bicep and then back to your face. “Yes…? You agreed to not tell anyone so… you probably should… let me go? The less you see of me, the better? I thought you were… angry anyway.”

Reluctantly, you released his arm, speaking softly. “I’m not… that mad, I never was really, I just… didn’t want this to be… it. I feel like I could learn a lot from you.”

You watched as her hesitated, seemingly working through his own inner conflicts at this presented opportunity.

“You could…” He turned back around, facing you once again. “Although, you’re already pretty good, I was actually impressed that you’d made it as far as you did.”

You couldn’t help but puff up a little with pride. “Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself. Maybe I could teach you a thing or two.”

He actually laughed. Like a soft little chuckle with a wheeze, his lips blossoming into a smile. “Perhaps you could.”

You smiled back, that laugh of his was adorable. “I’ll let you go but, Donnie… don’t be a stranger, okay?” You already had known his name from getting into his system so many times.

He spoke your name too, softly. “Okay, I won’t.” He looked a little shy then. “Please, allow me to escort you home. It’s late.”

“How very chivalric of you.” Smiling at him with a nod. “I accept.”

Donnie looked pleased with this turn of events and then a little nervous. “I could… carry you, if you want, it’s faster going by rooftops.”

That was an unexpected offer. and now you hesitated before answering. “Oohkay… what are you, some kinda parkour master?”

He snorted softly with a little smirk. “Something like that, ready?”

When you nod, you’re scooped up into his arms at speed that makes you exhale quickly. Being in his arms and feeling the power they held was… nice.

“Hold on tight.” Is all he says and then he starts running.

Automatically you wrapped your arms around his neck watching as the edge of the building came closer and closer… and then, you were flying. Air shooting past your face at a speed that made your eyes water. Your stomach dropped and you clung tighter as you sailed through the air, landing with a thump on the other building.

“You, okay?” He wasn’t even out of breath, like this was easy for him.

“Yes…! Do you know where you’re going?” You ask a little breathlessly.

“Yep. Hold on, I’ll be there in ten.” He took off again, leaping across to the next and the next.

You had to admit it was probably the most exhilarating thing you’d ever experienced and you were actually a bit regretful when he stopped on the roof of your apartment building. Carefully, he brought you to your feet and pushed those large glasses of his up a bit.

“Here we are.” He was more relaxed now, you noticed and felt glad for it.

“Thanks, I appreciate you bringing me back.”

He offered a shy smile then. “You’re welcome. I dragged you out there, the least I could do is make sure you get home safely.”

“That is very much appreciated.” Feeling a bit shy yourself, you paused before heading in. “I’ll see you around.”

“For sure.” Donnie had found he didn’t want to leave yet either, he wanted to make sure you entered the apartment safely.

Heading in, you waved to him before closing the door behind you and took a deep breath. Wow… that really happened. That was incredible! You could barely contain your excitement as you went back to your apartment.

Once Donnie arrived home, true to his word he freed up her system and felt proud of himself for handling things the way that he did. He blew out a breath, leaning back in his chair a moment while lacing his fingers behind his head.

*bing*

He glanced at his screen to see his computer icons dancing and an unseen song playing in the background.

Ninja, ninja, rap, ninja, ninja, rap, go go go go. Go ninja go ninja go! Go ninja go ninja go! Go go go go!

Donnie snorted softly to himself and quickly typed a response.

Back in your apartment, your computer screen suddenly became flooded with memes. Mostly turtle ones of course and try as you might there was no containing your giggles and snorts as you watched them take over your screen. You liked him; there was something very endearing about his quiet shyness mixed with his sharp wit.

Typing back, you take over his screen once again. You took a breath and pressed enter. This was a big chance you were taking but you couldn’t help but feel a connection with the tall, lanky turtle man.

Go on a date with me

Check box yes or no

No rush

Donnie froze, his fingers twitching slightly as they hovered above his keyboard. She wants to go out on a date? With him? He had a mild panic attack for a moment and read and re-read the message at least ten times.

His cursor hovered over the ‘yes’ box. Come on Donnie, throw caution into the wind for once. When are you going to get another chance like this?

Making his decision finally, he clicked his mouse button.

Yes

You couldn’t hold your excitement as you blew out a breath of relief.

He said yes.

The End

@danceingfae @thelaundrybitch @iridescentflamingo @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus

@the-cauldron-witch @thepinkpanther83 @avery73 @adebauchedsloth @sophiacloud28

@definitely-canon @scholastic-dragon @truffle-reblogs @fyreball66 @yorshie

[yelenasdiary]

I usually stay up late (right now is 3 am and I still have things to do) programming and doing stuff.

I thought about this fic idea and you popped into my mind.

How about we mostly work in IT for SHIELD/the avengers so we mostly stay with computers or we are in workshops. The thing is we are with yelena and in general we get along with everyone. Lately yelena has noticed that we are more tired than usual, because us being a workaholic person can’t just stop working. One night yelena finds us sleeping on our computer while we were programming/hacking, she tries to gets us to sleep and we try to deny it. Next day yelena has some words with nick fury.

This is probably bad written but right now my brain is not braining sorry

Workaholic

Pairing: Yelena Belova x GN! Reader

Summary: You’re a workaholic that doesn’t realise how drained you can get. 

Fluff & Tiny Angst

Warnings: None, if there is any, please let me know. | 1.7K

Translations: Detka (baby)

AC: Thank you for sending this! I know it has taken me FOREVER & I do apologise for that. I hope you enjoy this! x

She watched in silence every morning when you would drag yourself out of bed to the kitchen for breakfast before leaving for work and she would watch again when you would finally come home late at night, hair slightly a mess before you’d take a shower and crash almost instantly the minute you sat down on the bed. She didn’t know what was going on at work, but she knew it was draining any energy you had left. 

Anytime she would meet you for lunch or when she would see you for the short period of time before and after work, you were just tired. Conversations were flat and short; you began to work later than usual which led to you going to work earlier than normal.

At first, Yelena just assumed it was something really important that Nick Fury, your boss, needed you to get done but when she found you one night, asleep at your desk, it raised more concern and worry for you.

Yelena sighed lightly to herself as she leant against the doorframe of your office, her brows frowning with concern at the sight of you slumped over your desk, the blue light from the monitors didn’t seem to wake you, your fingers still lightly pressed on the last letters you had pressed before resting your head. Lines of coding ran across the multiple screen system surrounding you, these were things she knew she would never truly understand how they worked. 

“Detka” she said softly, attempting to wake you. You stirred slightly, giving her a light groan but no real signs of opening your tired eyes. “Let me take you home so you can get some real sleep” you heard her Russian accent ever so softly speak. Unintentionally, you groaned once more, this time your eyes flickering open, the brightness of your screen making them sting. 

“I..I’m fine” you mumbled, sitting up straight, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes.

“Detka, you can’t keep doing this. What is so important to Fury that has you falling asleep at your desk?” Yelena asked, her brows frowned with worry. 

“I just need like 5 more minutes, I promise” you replied in your groggy state.

“More like another 5 hours” Your girlfriend muttered before she reached for your computer mouse before you could even string together where things were. “I’m not letting you make yourself sick for whatever this is” Yelena added, her voice low but firm, “you need sleep. No more hacking for tonight” she said as you watched the little arrow on your screen close down your opened tabs. 

“Yelena!” You spat, “I can’t! I have too much do to and you just shut it down?!” You added, annoyed by your girlfriends actions as you looked up at her. Yelena shook her head, “if you write another line of coding, you’re going to become the damn coding!” 

“You don’t get it, I need to get this done!” You frowned. 

“And you get do it tomorrow” Your girlfriend said, crossing her arms over her chest. Your eyes dropped slightly, there was no fighting her one this, not even you felt your eyes grow heavy once more. 

“Fine” you sighed, tiredly, “just let me close everything down properly before we go home” you added. 

----

The next morning, you woke up in a panic. The sun light creeping in through the crack of the curtains, you reached for your phone to find out your alarm had been switched off. You sighed before throwing your head back down on the pillow before covering your face with both of your hands. 

Yelena was giving her daggers a sharpen when you asked her why she had turned your alarm off. 

“Because, detka, you needed a real sleep” she said, not batting and eye at you. 

“Yelena, you made me late for work! I don’t even know what to tell Nick when I get there” you argued. 

“I already told him you’d be running late today” Your loving girlfriend replied, looking up at you, “I’m worried about you” she added. One look into her green eyes and you were reminded of the worried look she had on her face late last night when she found you at your desk, asleep. 

“You’re working yourself too hard, you come home and have a re-heated meal then shower and go to bed for a few short hours. Natasha and Wanda both said that you don’t even leave the compound for lunch, not even to get some fresh air. You are consistently at that desk working until early hours of the morning” Yelena said in a soft but firm tone. 

“Baby, it’s my job” you said, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Yes, it is but your job isn’t 16 hours a day” 

Your eyes dropped to your feet, “I know, I just….i just want to make sure I’m doing the best I can for Fury. All the coding and hacking I do, it’s not easy. It’s time consuming and I need ot be on top of my game all the time” you explained in hopes it would help Yelena understand. 

“You’re not going to be on top of your game if you’re falling asleep at your desk and barely function outside of work. Detka, I hate to say it, but you’re a workaholic” Yelena replied. You cocked a brow at the blonde, “I am not” you said, making Yelena chuckle. 

“You are detka, a hard, smart working workaholic” she teased, causing you to playful roll your eyes. “Think whatever you want Lena, I’m going to go get ready for work”

“I’m taking you today” Yelena said just before you pushed yourself off the doorframe, “and I’m picking you up at 5pm” she added. 

“Lena, you can trust me to come home at the end of my shift today” 

“I know, but Nat is dragging me in to help her with some training thing so why not carpool?” She replied with a rather proud grin on her lips. You playfully shook your head at her before making your way to the bathroom to get ready for work. 

----

You and Yelena walked into the compound, hand in hand before Yelena placed a soft kiss on your cheek and wished you a good day as you both parted ways, she waited until you were inside the elevator before she turned on her heels and headed towards Nick’s office. 

Nick, busy as usual was sitting at his desk with a stack of paperwork beside him. His focus so deep on the document in front of him he didn’t even hear the knock on his door. 

“Fury” Yelena said lightly, her accent coming in thick. 

Nick looked up before leaning back in his chair, “Belova” he acknowledged with a raised eyebrow. 

“I need to talk to you, it’s important” Yelena began, “it’s about Y/n” she added. Fury nodded, “come on, take a seat” he replied. Yelena closed the large wooden door behind her before she took a head on the typical office style chair. “What can I help you with?” The head of S.H.I.E.L.D asked. 

“They’re pushing themselves too hard for whatever it is you have them working on. This is shield, right? Not some tech startup company. They need a break” Yelena said firmly. 

“Right” Nick nodded, “and you think that I’ve been keeping them prisoner to their desk?” He added as he stood up from behind his desk and wandered over to Yelena, taking a the empty chair next to her, “Y/n is one of my hardest working IT employees, they are dedicated to their job, I admire it, I will all my IT employees would put in half the effort Y/n does. This job isn’t easy, there isn’t a real shift time start or end. We may need them at 4am if a mission goes south and they know that” he explains. 

“But they are here early every day, and they leave later than anybody else. You can’t tell me that every mission over the last month has gone to shit” Yelena argued.

“No, but, like I said they are dedicated to their job. Look, I’ll have a look at the clock ins and outs. If Y/n is doing too much unneeded overtime, I will have a word to them but if they aren’t, I’m not going to get in the way of somebody who has a drive to work” 

Yelena sighed lightly, “have you even seen them lately? They are exhausted, last night when they didn’t come home, I came here and found them asleep! At their desk! I’m not asking you to check their clock ins and outs, I am asking you to give them the break they deserve and need” Yelena said firmly, not backing down. “You can go a few days without them here. A few days is worth it then not having them at all” she added. 

Fury remained silent for a moment, contemplating Yelena’s request. He knew Yelena was right; losing a little of something is better than not having it at all. “Okay” he said, finally breaking the silence, “I will speak to them on their lunch break” he added. 

“Thank you” Yelena said, giving him a polite nod. 

“You’re just like your sister, stubborn” Nick muttered with a cocked brow. 

“I am when I need to be” Yelena teasingly grinned. 

----

When 5pm came, you didn’t want to keep Yelena waiting, you shut down your computer and made sure your desk was tidy for tomorrow morning before you wandered the main hall of the compound. You smiled softly when you locked eyes on her leaning against her blue pick-up truck talking to Natasha, Bucky and Sam. 

“What’s the gossip today guys?” You asked with a light chuckle. 

Natasha was the first to turn and smile at you, “hold on a moment, are you unwell?” She asked, jokingly. 

“Ha, Ha, very funny” you replied, playfully rolling your eyes as you stood next to Yelena, leaning your head on her shoulder. “Somebody couldn’t help themselves and spoke to Fury today” you added. 

“Ohhh! Yelena went to the big dogs!” Sam laughed. 

“She did and honestly, thank you” you said, looking up at Yelena. 

“You’re welcome” she smiled softly.

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[bimboyaoi]

okay, this is my first time posting fics on Tumblr, so sorry if the formatting is a bit wonky 🩷 Hope you guys like it!

warning: suggestive content

Summer heat

Billy still doesn't know why he let you into the team. You were too young, too inexperienced, too distracted, you were an airhead and a real-life Polly pocket, not bright enough to go on the missions.

But somehow, despite all of that, you were a genius when it came to computers. Codes, hacking your way to getting information, breaking firewalls. So it's not like you were a complete liability to the team.

You may not have been a liability, but by God, had you become a distraction. As the days got warmer, your outfits got shorter.

He knew you weren't doing it on purpose, rilling him up and having him hold back the urge to just press you against the nearest wall and put you in your place, that you were only trying to survive the hot NYC days just like everyone else in the team, but Jesus, it's not like anyone else in the team had thighs like yours.

Today especially, you looked divinely distracting, leaning against his desk as you babbled about computers and codes. And he wanted to pay attention, he did, but he was using all his remaining energy to focus on your face so he wouldn't look at how gorgeous your tits looked on that tank top.

His attention is brought back to you as you call out for him with a worried look.

"Boss? Are you good? You saw distant..." You say as you eye his face, searching for any signs of injuries.

He chuckles before waving you off, a bit ashamed he got caught. "Don't worry about it, Luv. Just tired."

And there it is. That expression you do every time he calls you a pet name or praises you. The way you look with your cheeks flushed and your lips parted like that drives him wild. He can't recall the amount of times he had stayed up at night, jacking off just at the thought of ruining you.

Unsurprisingly, you seemed oblivious to your effects on him. Anyone whose brain hadn't been fried by computers and energy drinks would have noticed it by now. But he was dealing with you. His tech genius polly pocket.

"I-I'll go back to my desk now... To finish gathering the information!" You say with a nervous laugh, refusing to look him in the eye.

He looked around the spacious office, that was empty except for you and him. Maybe it was finally time to be bold and strike.

"Actually..." He says with a smirk, softly grabbing your hand. "Why don't you help me with a little something?" Gently leading your hand to his upper thigh.

You look back at him with wide eyes, face even redder than before. He laughs as you stumble with words while trying to say something.

"What? Are these little slutty outfits just for show then? Don't tell me you haven't done this before, doll." He says, tone almost demeaning as he guides your hand higher to his crotch.

"No- I have... But-" You stammer and he chuckles again.

"But what? I've seen the way you look at me, luv. Honestly, we're doing each other a favor by doing this. Don't ya think so?" He says as he brings up one of his hands to softly caress your cheek.

You look up at him with big eyes, softly biting your lips as you nod and kneel in front of him.

He smirked and leaned back against his chair. "That's it. Now be a good girl and suck daddy's cock."

If anyone wants me to continue it, plz let me know :3

[callahanisms]

ghostface art donaldson because i've just been binging horror movies and this just came into my brain

least likely suspect that's for sure. innocent eyes, solid alibi, and harmless. he doesn't even hurt a fly. you have to kill the bugs for him because he doesn't like to touch them, even through the thick paper towel.

first victim was entirely an accident. sort of. he just got so angry he bashed their head in with a rock. they talked bad about you. what else was he supposed to do? stand by and take it? no one insults his sweet pea like that. no one. he's surprisingly calm when cleaning up the blood and dumping the body in the river. that guy floats up from the river like miles and miles away. and he threw the rock in the river. it sank to the bottom.

art donaldson, your boyfriend. paid attention to all of your needs, was in tune with your desires. sweet and gentle. when you recall missing that guy, he doesn't say much other than, "someone heard him say that you were 'bitching out,' as he puts it."

you don't believe him. you thought he was your friend. "sometimes people are not what they seem." he hums, soothing you. he makes you feel better about cutting people off. some people were just toxic and not good for you.

art was good for you, of course.

ghostface art donaldson, who doesn't get a costume until you suggest he does. for halloween. it was something last minute thrown together. the mask, part of the hood, a compression shirt, a harness, gloves, tight pants and boots. fuck he looked so hot. the mask kink didn't help.

when he does begin to suck the poison out, he wears the full robe. he can't have anyone identifying his body. all witnesses can say was that he was tall and seemingly physically fit.

art is creative with his kills. he likes using things in his vicinity. yes, he has killed someone with a tennis racket. there was a lot more blood than he anticipated.

he calls you as ghostface. mostly to check in. but to you, it feels like a stranger randomly calling you in the middle of the night. and one time, he fucked up real bad. you could hear the screaming of your best friend in the background.

although it kind of works out for him. because you run into his arms, worried sick, crying. you need to be soothed. and he's the right one to soothe you. comfort you. pepper kisses all over your face.

you're the only factor that connects the victims. no one wants to talk to you. they're afraid. it's isolating. all people do is offer shallow condolences for your circumstance. thoughts and prayers, almost like they have decided your fate for you.

that's why art is so good for you! he gives you the socialization you need, the interaction you crave. you cling to him more and more. and hell, you even accept his offer to move into his place. you'll have to do it in a few months after your lease is up though.

he touches you like you're about to disappear, as if you will just walk out of him. he's peppering kisses along your neck, sucking and biting and leaving hickeys, fingers digging into your thigh. "gosh, you taste so sweet~" he's practically purring.

your heart goes cold. there's a twinge in his voice that gives him away. you've heard it before over the phone when your best friend was screaming as she was being hacked to pieces.

[eightmakesonebraincell]

i have a little request! what happens with mafia mingi & yn? do they ever meet again? if so, how?

same with wooyoung! do they still meet at the convenience store every night? did he bring the others over to introduce reader to them?

oh im curious yeahhhhh

ateez as mafia members pt 2

original post here

pairing: mafia!mingi x reader, mafia!wooyoung x reader, mentions of ot8!mafia

genre: fluff, crack, a continuation of the mafia tropes brainrot-fest

length: 2.1k

c/w: explicit language, violence, weapons, mentions of alcohol, unedited

a/n: thank you anon for requesting (and special thanks @sorryimananti-romantic for validating my writing 🫶) this was only meant to be like a five dot-point thing explaining what happens, but obviously mafia!ateez has me in their chokehold. mafia!ateez in my brain: it's free real estate

mingi

it takes a few days for you to reopen your bar after your fateful meeting with ccg

ccg as in cute coat guy

because quite frankly, that night shook you up a little

mingi most definitely notices your absence

but it's not like he can just check up on how you're doing

not when your bar is closed and he has no real excuse to show up apart from "i was worried about you"

after he reports back to base and rejoins ateez, hongjoong's girlfriend offers to hack into the database and find out what your phone number is

("it'll literally take me like, two seconds")

mingi refuses though because he wants to do things the right way

at least...when it comes to things concerning you

after you reassure yourself that the thugs chasing after cute coat guy aren't going to kill you by association, you feel safe enough to open up the mist again

his leather coat usually sits draped over your chair behind the countertop

originally, you think about washing it before returning it to him

...whenever he shows up you suppose

but then you kind of like the smokey smell of gunpowder with an underlying hint of his cologne that is on the coat

so you leave it as it is

in fact, you might have actually worn it a couple of times

you like how the end of the coat brushes against your calves, how the sleeves fall past your fingertips, how it engulfs your entire frame like an embrace

but mostly, you like how it reminds you of the handsome stranger; who claims he is a good bad guy; who you still do not know the name of

you wonder if he made it back safely that night

you're wearing the coat as you're closing up for the night - it's already well past midnight

you're just about to reach for the last glass on one of the tables when you hear the door to your bar opening

"sorry, i’m closed for the nigh- oh," you pause

it’s ccg

who currently has one leg and arm halfway through the threshold of your door, now frozen mid-step at your words

“if now’s not a good time, i can come back another day?” he starts out hesitantly

“now’s great! good. yes,” you chuckle nervously and try not to be too enthusiastic at his appearance. “now’s good, come in”

you catch his eyes briefly flicker down for a moment before they return to your eyes

then he gives you a soft look and greets you gently, “hi”

“hi,” you return, brain shutting down on you

“you look cute in that,” he jerks his chin down slightly to motion at what he was looking at just moments ago

his leather coat

that you are currently wearing

you squeak in embarrassment, hands fumbling to take it off while you vomit out explanations as to why you’re wearing it

your fingers get caught up in the sleeves

but then he is stepping closer slowly so as not to alarm you, before he grasps the ends of the sleeves and helps tug them off your arms

mingi can’t help but use the opportunity to tenderly hold one of your hands

he’s missed the way your smaller hands fit snugly in his

“did you come back for your coat?” you try to break the silence, because otherwise you are afraid he will hear the heartbeats coming from inside your chest

he nods, “wanted to make sure you were okay, too”

there is a third reason that he does not say

that he just wanted to see you

“i’m okay now,” you reassure him

because he’s back now and he’s safe

he folds the leather coat and places it on the countertop before he says, “i don’t think i ever got your name?”

you tell him then ask him for his

“mingi”

“mingi,” you repeat

he repeats your name in return

“mingi,” you say yet again

“y/n”

you both laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole conversation

“mingi, want to help me close the bar?”

and so you find yourself in his company as you give him easy tasks to do

closing up has always been a tedious job, especially when your body and mind are groggy with fatigue

but with mingi around, an accidental brush whenever you shuffle past each other, a conversation easily flowing between you both, you are awake as ever

even long after all the tables and shot glasses have been cleaned and polished, floors swept, bottles of alcohol reorganised, mingi still has not left

and at some point during the night once you two sit at the countertop to rest your legs, both of you have subconsciously inched closer together in your seats, bodies seeking the warmth and proximity of the other

you are unsure how long you two talk for

but just like that first, fateful meeting with mingi, he stands up to take his leave all too soon

“goodnight, mingi”

mingi buffers for a minute before he decides to do it

he reaches out for your hand, clasping it gently to bring it up to his lips as he presses a light kiss against the back of your hand

and with a goodbye of his own, he turns for the door

except he lingers in the doorway, asking, “will i see you again?”

a smile graces your lips at the irony of the situation and you tell him it's not like you'll be going anywhere; he's free to come visit any time

but you also feel your stomach flutter

because last time, you were the one tugging on mingi’s vest, timidly wondering if that was going to be the last you saw of him

tonight, he is the one unwilling to part ways

not to say that you aren’t either

“i’ll see you around, then,” he says with finality, voice still soft-spoken

and then he leaves

but just mere seconds later you spot it

his leather coat

still folded on your counter where he had placed it earlier

"wait, your coat!" you rush outside with it

mingi is only a few feet away

he could very easily turn around and take it from you

but then he just winks, gives you a tip of his hat and says, "next time," before he's walking away again

you chew on the inside of your cheek to stop the silly grin from blooming across your face

because something tells you that you're going to be hanging on to mingi's coat for him for a while

even after next time

wooyoung

it feels like deja vu

a whole gang of mafia members sauntering into your convenience store like a scene straight out of a movie

admittedly, they are much more pleasing to the eye than the group that was chasing after wooyoung weeks ago

but still

these are several muscular men in tank tops, leather jackets and heavy chained necklaces

your hand itches for the comforting weight of the pepper spray in your purse that wooyoung had gotten you just last week

you haven't had a reason to need it since wooyoung basically lives in your store now

and he always walks you home after your shift

but now seems like a more than good enough time to use it

"you usually work the night shift here?"

a voice causes your eyes to snap up

the man at the head of the group addresses you with a quirk of his brow - it's pierced, you notice

"...yeah," you answer

you wonder if this is your last shift at work and at life

and then just like a repeat of last time, you spot wooyoung's frantic bounce of curls appear from across the street of your store

you pray to the heavens above that he isn't being chased by anyone else this time

because the thought of two gangs crossing paths inside your modest store?

you don't think it's going to look like a store after their fight is through

you see the way wooyoung's eyes widen when he spots the thugs just mere feet away from you and you see a curse form on his lips

you just need to hold out until he gets here

wooyoung will keep you safe

wooyoung will-

"then you must know," the man leans in a little closer to grab your attention, "where i can find-"

wooyoung bursts through the door

"-the super sour gummy worms?" the man finishes

you physically cannot help the words that blurt out of you in disbelief, "the fuck you just say?" 

"hongjoong!" wooyoung's piercing shout interrupts you both

wooyoung worms his way through the gang and you stare incredulously at him before you say, "the fuck did you just say?"

he ignores you in favour of pressing his hands against the chest of the man - hongjoong? - and trying to push him towards the doors of your store

quite unsuccessfully, you must add

"the fuck are you guys doing here?" wooyoung yells

"what the fuck is going on?" you demand

"holy fuck, not even hongjoong swears this much"

"fuck yeah, potty mouth!"

"stop swearing you fucktards!"

one of the men who has been lingering on the edge of the group sidles up to the counter, looking at you with an apologetic grimace

"sorry you have to deal with...this," he shakes his head just as another man comes to join you both, "i'm jongho, by the way"

"seonghwa," the other man introduces himself with a gentle voice

these mafia men are surprisingly kind

and normal

except, you suppose, anyone in comparison to wooyoung would be normal

"are you all wooyoung's, uhh, friends?" you don't know whether they know you know

they chuckle, "yeah, we're his friends. his brothers, too, you could say"

you realise the rest of the men have started to settle down and are standing in a rough semi-circle around your counter

wooyoung is currently grumbling and muttering indignantly under his breath with someone's arm thrown over his shoulders, though it looks more like he's a child being scolded by his father than it looks a friendly gesture

"so to what do i owe the pleasure of a visit from all of you?" you ask them, now that there is no swearing being thrown across the room and you realise they aren’t going to shoot you through the head

"had to see for ourselves who was making our wooyoung all smitten. always sneaking out at night like a tween"

"yunho!" wooyoung hisses and elbows said man in the ribs

except with the height difference, it's more like his hips

it's amusing to see how everyone has the upper hand over wooyoung's brattiness

"am i meeting the in-laws already?" you smirk at wooyoung, "you like me or something, jung wooyoung?"

he flushes bright red and you're quite positive that if you made him take his socks off, you would find him blushing straight down to his toes

"that's it!" he hollers, arms flailing and shooing everyone, "out! out! out!"

you know they can easily resist his pushy hands, but they simply snicker and let themselves be herded towards the doors

"bye, darling!" someone jumps up and down to catch your gaze over the heads of everyone else

"shut up, san!"

yunho, you think you recall his name being, flutters his fingers at you cheekily, "we'll be back soon!"

and then he lets out an indignant yelp when wooyoung slaps his back with a screech, "no, you guys won't!"

you're laughing heartily by this point, unrestrained and very much enjoying their antics

"bye, everyone," you wave them off and then blow wooyoung an exaggerated kiss, "see you later, wooyoungie!"

everyone cackles with glee at the sight of him trying to dig himself into the ground

the sound of their ruckus finally dies down as they exit and walk further away from your store

and then you hear a distant wail

"i didn't get my gummy worms!"

you shake your head with a fond smile and take a seat at the register, but not before setting aside a pack of those ‘super sour gummy worms’ for hongjoong

and then, like always, you look at the clock and count the seconds as they tick past

counting down the seconds until wooyoung comes back to see you

again

[robilover]

silver wolf who loves fem reader so so so much? silver wolf brain rot era has not left me since 26/04/2023 😭😭 basically hcs of her love for reader? and she’s basically willing to do everything in the universe for her (maybe some nsfw of silver wolf being a bit possessive bcos she’s jealous [i personally think she’s a possessive lover 👀😵‍💫]) how do you personally think silver wolf wld be (nsfw headcanons)? HELP my request is so vague 😭 but i hope you’ll do it either way 😭😵‍💫

did you know that silver wolf is my very first limited 5-star? I also got her light cone because I was so in love with her😭 had to skip seele just for her hshaja

Lovestruck!Silver Wolf SFW and NSFW Headcanons !

pairing(s): silver wolf x fem!reader

cw: silver wolf is a streamer, smitten and possessive silver wolf, strap-on use, implied fingering, marking, dom!silver wolf, men and homophobes dni.

SFW

silver wolf strikes me as someone who just loves to spoil her girlfriend with game credits. she definitely did not hack someone’s bank accounts—

to me, her main love language is gift giving. she always shows her love to you by giving you little trinkets that are either from games, or anything that makes her think of you.. especially when it comes to games.

if she hears you saying that you want this character, or that weapon of theirs, battle pass, or anything at all, you suddenly get them.

she’s a very skilled hacker, so why not put them to good use? even if you’re against them, she wouldn’t care at all.

aside from giving you stuff you like, she doesn’t mind holding you close in her arms. she loves your warmth.

whenever she plays, she always calls for you to sit beside her.. or even her lap. why, you ask? well, she thinks that you bring her luck to her games and gacha pulls. she thinks of you as her lucky charm!

she occasionally gives you kisses whenever she feels like it. when she somehow gets her hands off of her keyboard or phone, she puts one of her hands (or both) on your body. may it be your cheeks, your waist, your hips, your thighs — anywhere. she just can’t help but want to touch you as a way to take a break from her games.

there are times that she just cups your face and tells you how cute you look, even poking your cheek with a chuckle. that little gesture would make your face heat up.

most of the time, you would catch her staring at you. what you don’t know was that she’s already gushing about you (she does that 24/7). you’d already see her faintly blushing and you would ask her why her face is red. she brushes it off by saying that it was hot in the room before turning away to get snacks from her food stash.

nsfw under the cut, read at your own risk!

—

NSFW

silver wolf may not show it much, but she is possessive towards you. she absolutely hates it when people hit on you, may it be in games, in her streams, or in real life.

if she sees someone hitting on you in game while you’re both playing, you could see her gripping her mouse/game console/phone so tightly, almost like she could break it if she continued to apply force on them. she would mutter under her breath on how she’d hack their accounts if they don’t stop.

if she’s on stream and you could be seen by the camera, her chat goes crazy over you—basically thirsting over you. it would make her grit her teeth as she tries oh-so politely to tell her chat to calm down, it’s just her beautiful girlfriend and you’re all hers.

if she couldn’t handle it anymore, she abruptly ends her stream and turns to you, as you were just laying on her bed. she would look at you with hunger and immediately removes her headphones and pounces on you, which resulted in you squealing.

when she’s possessive and jealous, she tends to be rough.

you would have bite marks all over your body—your neck, collarbones, shoulders, stomach, thighs—basically anywhere that she has access to. after all, she loves to show everyone who you belong to.

silver wolf loves it when you moan her name. it encourages her to fuck you so hard until you could barely even form a single word other than her name. for her, it’s an ego booster.

she would make you cum countless of times using her fingers. and if you’re overstimulated enough, she decides to use a strap-on. a big one.

she’d pound into your cunt so harshly that the room would be filled with your loud, whiny moans and skin slapping against skin. she’d grunt and groan at your moans, her face buried into your neck as she places kisses on your skin to make you whine under her.

she would grumble how you’re hers and no one else’s between thrusts and grunts, her hands grasping tightly onto your hips.

silver wolf surprisingly has quite the stamina, that the both of you would last for hours on her bed.

once she’s satisfied, she becomes awfully and surprisingly? gentle.

her aftercare would be gentle kisses on the marks she left on your skin, whispering praises into your ear at how well you took her and that she loves you so much. she also loves how fucked out you look that she sensed that you could barely register anything that she says.

in the end, she cuddles you close to her heart while whispering sweet nothings into your ear until you fall asleep in her arms (probably passed out) <33

[somerandomdudelmao]

If you are down to answer, what were some of the plot threads you had planned but dropped to keep the narrative spicy for your brain?

Oh, I had a separate episode in my head for Raph and Casey bonding:D

It was supposed to take place right after the Raph-is-dead-it's-fixable episode and be entirely about Casey and Raph getting to know each other. So Casey would have been very awkward around Raph in the beginning

So. Haha. Imagine. Casey and Raph are forced to hide from Krang in a base of other survivors. The base belongs to a future version of the Purple Dragons and these guys would spend the entire episode trying to steal/hack/buy Raph from Casey. Because they think this robot is an inanimate thing. And Casey has to pretend all episode that he's the child genius who built and own the robot, while trying to find a safe way home.

A while later, I changed my mind and wanted to make this situation reversed.

Imagine again. Raph and Casey encounter an underground base full of crazy robots that were originally created by the Purple Dragons, but then went insane, destroyed their creators, and now hate humans.

But Raph and Casey need their help. So throughout the episode, Raph has to pretend that he's a real robot who hates humans. And oh??...what do you mean he has one right here?? He need this kid solely to be his servant and fix his armor and wiring or something haha~ No other reasons~ No you can't kill him for fun! That would be counterproductive. Mhm. Yes. Please don't hit him either he's fragile. Yes. Thank you.

Casey would sit on Rafe's shoulders like a pirate parrot most of the time because that's the safest place to be haha

Then I got distracted by other ideas and put that concept aside. Maybe I'll draw it as a flashback one day :)

[pellucid-constellations]

angstober (4)

Prompt: "Just Breathe"

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

A/n: More angst!! I appreciate all the support for these little drabbles sooooo much!!

angstober masterlist here ♡

~~~

“Come on. Come on!” 

Bucky was panicking. 

How had you fallen so fast? So suddenly? 

One moment you were beside him, the next you were mixed between cracked concrete and metal pipes—falling, falling, falling. Who knew bridges were so unreliable?

“Wake up, sweetheart. Come on, please,” he pleaded. Begged. His hands kept moving, kept pushing life into your chest as tears mixed with the saltwater on his cheeks. “You don’t get to leave me.” 

Steve was somewhere near the shore, fighting off whatever creature had blown up the bridge. And thank god for Steve, because Bucky would sooner let the creature from space eat him before he left you. Before he let you die. 

In some cynical, self-hating part of his brain, Bucky registered that you were already dead. 

He pumped his arms more steadily, applying more pressure, willing your heart to start beating. You weren’t dead. You weren’t. Because if you were gone… well, Bucky felt the repercussions of such a thing as he stared down at your waning, wet skin. Your lips were turning an unnatural shade and Bucky felt the reality, this reality, sink into his very bones. 

Sand bit into his knees where the torn material of his pants failed him, but Bucky felt it like lidocaine had been injected right to the site. A sob wracked his chest, almost crippling him as he gave his breath to you, and Bucky decided right then and there that nothing in his life had compared to this. 

The way your body moved was making him sick. You only budged when he forced the motion into your limbs, your neck only turned when he tilted it up to try and save you. 

This was awful, unimaginable. 

“I love you,” he whispered, shaking hands coming to brush the hair from your forehead. You hated when it fell into your eyes. “I love you, honey. Please.” 

His words broke, so Bucky kissed your skin instead. Your cheek, your neck, your shoulder—he kissed you to quell the unevenness of his own breath, and then he restarted compressions. 

“You can’t—” he struggled. “—you can’t let a little water take you out. I love you so much, it doesn’t work like that.” 

But, in real life, it did work like that. 

There was nothing supernatural pumping in your veins. You were human, breakable, and while Bucky was used to this truth, he had never felt it as strongly as he did in this moment. 

Somewhere, Steve called his name. 

Bucky was only listening for one sound, and it wasn’t Steve. 

Grief invaded the deepest parts of him, and it was slowing him down. Bucky never felt slow. Bucky was a machine. He could fix things and make them right. He had strength and invincibility and power.

Bucky could fix you, too. He could make you right. 

Couldn’t he? 

His crying had turned unintelligible, just small words lost between tears and gasping breaths. You’d cried like this one time. Right now, Bucky couldn’t remember why, but he’d held you and told you he’d never leave you. He’d run gentle fingers across your temple and stayed awake when you fell into a fitful sleep. 

Bucky was alone as he cried. 

“I can’t do this without you. I can’t.”

You coughed. It started small and then grew into a hacking, choking sound. Bucky startled, took a split second to watch the way your chest moved on its own, and then he pulled you forward with vigor. Your chin slotted over his shoulder and his hand made an imprint in the wet material at your back. 

“Hey, hey,” he breathed, shaky and softer than he had ever spoken. “Just breathe. You’re okay. Breathe, I got you.” 

Your fingers curled into his shirt, ripping at velcro and kevlar as you fought for air. Bucky held you through it, pressed his nose to the warming skin of your head and rocked the two of you without realizing it. Grief was still pounding in his bones. He wasn’t sure if that would go away anytime soon. If the weight of you being dead was ever going to leave him, even as you sat in his arms and choked out breaths. 

“Bucky,” you eventually wheezed out, pulling back from his grasp. “I—” 

“Shhh,” he hushed. Because as much as he wanted to hear you speak, hear proof that you were lucid and knew him and loved him, you were struggling. “Don’t try to talk. You’re okay. You’re okay, right?”

It sounded like a question no one could answer. 

But you nodded, and Bucky pulled you back into his chest. “Just breathe, baby. You’re okay.”

[mariowritesforyou]

Make your margins wider in your writing

Writing what feels like a dozen pages only to figure out after that you haven't even gotten through half a page is a universal experience across all writers.

What I'm about to tell you is one way I've found helps getting through that psychological toll.

One day I was writing my novel (a-luchador-detective-versus-a-lady-vampire sort of affair) when I got a certain idea. I picked up my copy of Authority by Jeff Vandermeer that I had on the desk and decided to make the line length in my work the same as that paperback edition. Margins were widened and line spacing was adjusted, leaving me with a sort of narrow manuscript.

You've no idea how much my productivity went up.

Logically, finishing a line became much faster, which lead to quicker finished pages, which produced a longer-looking manuscript. Of course, this doesn't mean that my writing was immediately faster per se,

but the feeling of being faster placebo-ed me in a way that increased my output.

Now I'm hitting my daily word-count much more consistently and I believe this was partly responsible.

Humans like numbers going up, if we wouldn't both videogames and billionares wouldn't exist. Seeing my page count increase is a reward to my brain which gives me a boost to get to the next page. By decreasing the length between rewards I'm put in a more constant progression loop, no longer feeling the slog of going up a hill and being met with a thousand more.

And at the end, if I want to check my actual progress, the real gauge will forever be the total word count, which we shouldn't obsess over, anyways.

The journey to create a novel or other piece of long-form media will always be more of a marathon than a race, and should be undertaken with the mindset of a marathon. All progress is incremental, and you should not be emotionally punishing yourself for not finishing a quarter of your book in the last week, as if that were somehow possible.

The length of a novel is such that any time-saving and efficiency-increasing life hacks we apply would only be reducing our-time-finish by weeks at the most, so why the rush?

I believe the key to writing faster is to write constantly first.

Can't be fast without stamina. So go ahead; write and make writing easier on you.

[bts-roses]

A Dream With an Idol

summary - You've been having dreams, oddly inexplicably realistic dreams with the man you, and the rest of the world, admires. But your heart grows tired of it when you start to fall in love with him, someone you don't actually know.

pairing - Idol!Yoongi x reader

genre - idol!au, dream!au, fluff, angst

word count - 6.8k

warnings - lil' bit of swearing

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚ ☁︎

You don't notice the surreal atmosphere engulfing you as you sit on your couch. Your apartment looks the same as it always does, yet it feels inexplicably foggier, as if you could touch your surroundings and everything would fizzle and dissipate fleetingly into thin air.

Before you're able to clock onto the hazy feeling that seems to flow through your entire bloodstream, a breaking news segment on your TV steals your attention: apparently the scientifically proven cure for a broken heart is a kitten's ballad.

Normally, you would question this, grab your phone and debunk it through the internet for the sake of your sanity and your need to always be right. Instead, your consciousness accepts it and you grab the glass of water next to you, failing to register the way it feels like and weighs nothing in your seemingly numb hand.

As you're about to take a drink, a knock on your front door unexpectedly stalls you.

You practically float towards the door, not feeling the normally cold floor on your feet. As the door swings open, you're surprised (but not sceptical) to find a very familiar face on the other side.

"Hi."

The man stares at you as if it was you who showed up to his door unannounced. His face is painted with just as much confusion as you feel.

"Hello," you breathe out, "Would you like to come in?"

"Yes?", the man unsurely says, following you to sit down on the couch.

You both say nothing, sitting in the silence you both subjected yourselves to. You stare at him in awe of how he looks close-up, the familiar features you would regularly admire in pictures is burnt in your heart with a brand new filter of details those photos would normally miss. He stares at you in a similar way, but he slowly explores the small details of your face in a way that signals to you that this is the first time he has ever seen you.

"I'm a big fan of yours." You break the silence, breaking out into a bashful smile.

He blinks.

He offers a brief smile back.

"Thank you." he replies, continuing to intensely stare at you.

You give an acknowledging nod, thanking him for his thanks. You purse your lips out in the undeniably awkward atmosphere.

"I'm y/n", you introduce yourself in attempt to hack at the silence, "I already know who you are."

This time he gives the acknowledging nod, a bit taken aback by your sudden bluntness. Yet a genuine smile sneaks out on his face and his brain doesn't catch up to the words that spill out of his mouth.

"Can I give you a hug?" He unexpectedly says, his face showing as much surprise as you feel.

In that moment, you realise he was speaking in Korean and you, despite never actually learning the language, fully understood it like you know the sun can be seen in the sky. The realisation, however, is momentary, finally processing his question. You don't even verbalise your response, instead moving forward to show him your answer.

Then all of a sudden, everything transcends into something that is inexplicable to describe in any other way except real.

He feels real.

You feel the comforting pressure from his arms around your body. You feel every soft shape, edge, and surface on his both muscly and soft body. You feel the soothing scent from him uplifting the senses in your nose. You feel the overwhelming warmth radiating from his body. The feeling is visceral, your heart drums throughout your body when you feel his heartbeat on your skin.

He is real.

As if shocked by electricity, you both move away from each other, staring at each other in pure shock. It's in that moment you take in the surreal atmosphere, the foggy surroundings, the ridiculous news on the TV.

You realise you're dreaming and yet the man in front of you is inexplicably real.

What haunts you is that his face mirrors yours. As if he feels the exact same thing you do, as if he finally registers everything around him is surreal, as if he too realises he's dreaming. He realises.

You're real too.

He moves forward towards you again and opens his mouth, about to ask you if you just felt what he did. You feel every fibre in your body about to do the same, to confirm that you viscerally feel everything, you can feel him.

But before either of you can utter a single word, everything and anything selfishly and unforgivingly rips through the existence, so brutally that it forces your eyes wide open.

You wake up.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚ ☁︎

The dream stayed on your mind, the feeling of his touch lingered on your skin. So much so that if you try to think back to it, you could almost relive it. It's odd. So inexplicably odd.

You mentioned it to your friends. Yet, despite their initial interest in your story, they only acknowledged the dream with a "huh, that's weird" and moved on from it. And, considering the bizarreness of the dream and the fear of being perceived as a delusional fan who was convinced that the Yoongi from BTS interacted with you through a dream, you accepted the passing commentary and told yourself that it was some sort of weird fluke.

And you kept telling yourself that until you started to get more and more dreams featuring the famous idol.

It got to a point where it was every few days. The dream always consisted of the same thing: you guys would find each other in the dream; have a chat about something random; end up hugging; feel the inexplicably, very real feeling of each others' bodies; look at each other with the recognition of the previous times this has happened; open your mouths to address the bizarre sensation; and then, of course, wake up absolutely breathless.

At first, you tried to will yourself to remember and confront the repetitive structure of the dream, like trying to remember the exact timing of a jump scare in a horror movie or the exact moment you see the romantic interest fall in love with their fated partner. But every time, you enter the dream without realising you're dreaming, never fully conscious of the repetition until you hug, always letting him slip from your grasp. Both metaphorically and (kind of) literally.

So, 6 months in, you gave up trying to confront the weird phenomena. Instead, just enjoying the dreams, enjoying his hazy company, enjoying your seemingly genuine conversations about anything and everything within the bizarre and eccentric world of your dreams.

There was something so indescribably real and authentic about dream Yoongi. You found yourself confiding in him about life, your real world life that is. You would talk about what had happened that day, the memories from your teen years, your aspirations, your likes, your dislikes, anything. In return, dream Yoongi would tell you about his day, his memories from his teen years, his struggles, what he ate that day, what music he was working on, funny stories about his friends. For instance, apparently Namjoon keeps embarrassing himself in front of an intern he may (i.e., definitely) has a crush on and you find yourself both laughing and cringing at the different moments Yoongi would retell at the cost of his dear friend's demise. It was strangely very believable and, after the fated realistic hug, you would wake up, feeling a unique sense of embarrassment for how detailed and enjoyable your made-up yet convincing conversations were with dream-Yoongi.

You felt a tiny bit more embarrassed to admit that, a year and a half in, these dream conversations were a big part of resolving your real life problems (thanks to dream-Yoongi's pragmatic but considerate advice), a big part of your life, and a big part of who you are. You hated to admit it to yourself, but these dreams weren't merely fantasies; they were a tangled web of devastatingly real emotions. The discussions were achingly genuine to you, you would pour your heart out in these moments in return for his.

Before you knew it, dream-Yoongi crept his disastrously perfect self inside your heart.

You fell in love with someone you don't know.

Was it stressful falling deeper and deeper in love with dream-Yoongi with every dream you had of him? Yes. Did you freak out that one time Yoongi mentioned he was getting ready for a comeback and then a week later that same comeback was announced? Very much so. Did it get a bit too much that you had to actively stop being a fan of the group because keeping up with them became a tragic, painful reminder that dream-Yoongi was just that: a dream? Absolutely.

The more your feelings blossomed in your chest, the more ridiculous you felt about the situation. It got to the point that you went on a date and you felt so weird, almost guilty for betraying Yoongi. You had to remind yourself that 1. you aren't even in a relationship with Yoongi and 2. you've never even met this man you felt you were betraying.

It got to the point where the ridiculousness you felt started to transform to a constant ache gnawing at your heart, your dreams overshadowing reality. You realised your unrequited love for a man you made up in your head.

You decided these dreams needed to stop.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚ ☁︎

In all honesty, you had no idea how to try and attempt to resolve the issue at hand and neither did Reddit (unsurprisingly your experience was very, very unique). So, in a moment of pure desperation, you went to see a (very expensive) dream therapist.

The very understanding and non-judgemental woman tried to reason that these dreams may be a result of issues with your love life and being single (there wasn't, you were quite content not being in a relationship) or maybe because you were a big fan of BTS (unfortunately you were not anymore). You felt a bit sorry for the therapist, especially after she admitted she doesn't really know how to help, having never seen or heard of your experience before.

In the end, the therapist suggested trying to bring your subconscious to heal and bridge that gap between your desires and reality. You weren't really sure what that could entail, and neither did she. After a moment of heavy silence, the therapist apologised for her inability to help and broadly concluded:

"The rule of thumb here is that confronting what's really been bothering you often resolves your problems in some way."

You walk out of the appointment with some form of hope.

You decide maybe the best course of action is to actually try to address the real sensations you feel when you touch dream-Yoongi and potentially this may resolve something in your unconscious? (You really weren't too sure but you thought doing something was better than nothing).

So, you went out, bought a dream journal, and tried to start lucid dreaming. You start keeping track of your dreams, investing in better sleep, and, really, following every advice page that was out there. However, when it finally works, you couldn't dream in dream-Yoongi for some reason. Instead, you "wake up" with sleep paralysis and find it genuinely terrifying.

So you give up.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚ ☁︎

You have 3 more dreams with dream-Yoongi. In each one, you catch him staring at you with a mist of worry in his eyes, almost begging you to let him know what's wrong. You feel bad but you try to dismiss him, settling for the regular surface-level chats that seem to be engulfed with more moments of silence than normal.

It seems that something keeps throwing more and more problems your way to deal with, both with your dreams and life in general. After learning a bit about dreams from the therapist, you're not surprised to note that your dreams seem to be more mellow than usual.

3 months have passed since the sleep paralysis incident and you're in another dream.

It's not as grim as it has been recently. Instead, you're sitting on the blinding white sand with your arms around your knees, basking in the sunlight as people play volleyball in the bright blue ocean on horse-sized cats.

You think one reminds you of Yoongi.

"Is this seat taken?"

Speak of the devil.

"What, the vast land of sand?" you tease, staring out to the sea, as he rolls his eyes .

"You know what I meant," he sighs, "Can I sit next to you?"

"Yes, of course you can," you answer, stealing glances at him as he sits a foot away from you.

You both stay silent, watching the odd scene in front of you as if it's a daily occurrence to watch a form of beach cat polo. But, you will reason when you wake up, in a dream you wouldn't question it at all.

"What's been up with you recently?" Yoongi asks, mirroring your position, his head resting on his arms, staring at you.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, recently you have been a bit off," Yoongi shrugs, trying to sound nonchalant, but you can tell he feels a bit uneasy, "Every time we talk you just seem a bit out of it."

As you digest what he said, you remain silent. Huh. You guess you have been out of it.

"I..." you think about how to go about this, "I think I'm just tired about all of this?"

"All of what?" Yoongi asks, and you watch as his face scrunches in confusion.

He's so beautiful, it hurts.

Tragically, your unconscious won't let dream-you remember the true reason for your sadness. Instead, you feel the need to confess, confess you have fallen for him. Confess everything you have felt for nearly 2 years, in front of the glistening sea and purple sunset that is adorned with purring cats.

But, for once, the real-you influences dream-you a bit too much, you're too scared.

"I'm just tired of... work?", you say with as much assuredness you can muster, "Work has been really stressful, they are offering me this big transfer, well more like insisting I transfer and I don't know... I might reject it."

That was actually true (for real-world you).

"Oh shit," Yoongi raises his eyebrows, letting out a sigh of relief, "Well, transfer to what? To where?"

"To another country," you continue, thankful for the change in conversation "Away from my friends, my family, and just about everything I know."

Another wave of silence fills the atmosphere as you both take in the sunset in front of you. It's doubtlessly unrealistic yet undeniably beautiful.

The peace stops when your peripheral catches Yoongi abruptly spinning his head towards you.

"Wait, is it for that job you were talking about? The project manager role?" Yoongi asks.

You nod. You watch as his face changes to let out his breath-taking smile. Your heart melts at the sight and the fact that he remembered.

It seems dream-Yoongi remembers everything.

"So it's not just a transfer, it's a promotion! Is that not great? You've been wanting to work with the charity for ages," he asks you, with admiration and a sense of pride in his eyes.

"But, I didn't realise I would have to actually move somewhere for it. I'm kind of scared to move to somewhere new, especially because I like where I am. What if I don't like it? I don't even speak the language!" you try to reason, letting out a groan listening to your own whines, "Is it shitty of me to give this opportunity up just because I'm scared?"

It falls silent as you both think about it.

"No. It seems there's pros and cons to both," Yoongi reasons back, "but both options do not make you a shitty person. There's a balance in helping others and putting yourself first"

You hum in contemplation. Silence washes up the shore again.

"But you do realise you can actually learn the language right?" he teases, "Like, that's what most people do when they need to move to a different country."

You give a pointed look at him, trying to remain serious, while the corners of your mouth betray your intentions. He looks at you with a seemingly genuine expression of endearment, letting out a small chuckle.

"You want my honest opinion?" Yoongi asks, continuing when you give him a nod, "Are you scared of moving to a new country or are you scared to move away from your place? Because to me it sounds like you're just scared to leave home and that's fine. But there's a difference between staying in a place because you actually like it and staying in a place just because it's comfortable."

You stare at him, a bit bewildered and struck with self-realisation that he might be right. He looks at you with a fond smile and gives a little shrug

"I would just hate to see you give up something you've been passionate about to just settle," he truthfully admits.

"What makes you think I'm just settling?" you ask, half joking, half offended.

"The way you talk about your life, I know you like your friends and your family and 'just about everything you know'. But you don't seem truly happy with where you are," Yoongi counters, "Like, where you are personally, with your job, I mean sometimes you seem bored with your city. And you always talk about wanting to start anew. I just want you to think about it before saying no"

"Yeah, I guess... " you quietly say, digesting all his words, "Thank you Yoongi."

You give him a sincere smile, and you watch as his eyes gazes around your face, as if he's trying to memorise every detail. Your heart warms at the action.

"It's no worries. I'll always be here, no matter what you choose, just let me know what you end up doing," Yoongi smiles, pausing before asking you, "So where would the transfer be?"

You pause for a moment.

"Um, it would be in the Seoul branch."

"What?" Yoongi gapes, "That's insane, you always talk about wanting to visit here. We could even meet up if you come," Yoongi suggests, unable to hide his excitement.

"I know," you let out a chuckle at his reaction, excitement spreading to you at the thought.

That won't actually happen though.

You feel your heart ache at the little voice in your head. You drop your head down, despairingly chuckling at the improbable idea.

He doesn't even know you exist.

And in that moment, you stare at him in shock.

You realise you're dreaming.

But before the now-conscious you could finally talk to dream-Yoongi, he lurches forward to bring you into an excited hug. And as always, you feel the same realistic warmth and pressure of his body onto yours, and it spreads and flutters right to your heart.

Then dread fills your entire body. No.

And just like clockwork, he instantly holds your shoulders to slightly push you away, frantically looking at your face with the same confusion you see on his face after every godforsaken hug.

Hopelessly, you try to quickly get any word out to the man in front of you, watching as he too scrambles to let even a sound out.

"You're-," you barely hear him start.

Then, you wake up.

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You decide to accept the transfer.

You have also decided that your dreams need to stop. For multiple reasons. You don’t want your heart to ache every time you see even a picture of real-Yoongi, which would probably be every day when you move to Seoul. You don’t want to keep tearing up at the realisation that the real-Yoongi is nothing like your dream-Yoongi or at the fact that dream-Yoongi isn’t real. And on the very rare chance you ever see real-Yoongi in real life and he walks past you as if you are just a stranger (which you guess you are), you don’t think your heart could actually, realistically take that kind of heartbreak.

So, you decide you really need to sort this dream situation out once and for all before you move. As a symbol of truly starting anew.

You try to lucid dream again and again.

And, for once, it works.

You open your eyes to a vivid yet clouded scene. You take in the sights, the dark velvet seats all lined up to face the stage were illuminated by the dimmed lights on the dark gold-coloured walls. Almost half of the theatre seats are filled; there’s people you notice are your coworkers and some people you don’t recognise at all. You don’t dwell on them for too long as you notice him sitting a few rows from the front of the stage.

You feel a bit wobbly making your way down the aisle, noticing how weird everything feels in a dream. Everything is so similar to real life, yet there’s this noticeable addition that feels unexplainable and yet somewhat fuzzy-feeling. As you near him, you feel your breath hitch in your throat as he turns to look at you, as if feeling your presence nearby.

"Ah, nice of you to show up," he jokes, "I was wondering if you got lost and I would never see you again."

You instantly feel yourself smile at the sight of his face, comfort filling your heart and mind. You note how handsome he looks in the black suit he’s wearing as you sit down beside him.

"Hate to disappoint," you play along, "I'm hard to get rid of."

He laughs with familiarity, feigning disappointment with a dejected sigh.

It feels odd to sit next to him. Well, it’s odd for the real, conscious-you to sit next to dream-Yoongi. Again, you note the haziness of your surroundings, the subliminal feeling like your falling and yet, dream-Yoongi remains so realistic, almost an anchor to this whole experience. It almost makes you second guess whether you truly are dreaming in the first place. But, you don’t know if that’s because that’s just the experience of lucid dreaming or the fact you are sitting next to the man you fell in love with, well, made up man.

"I actually need to talk to you about something," you start, turning towards him awkwardly in the fixed seat.

Sensing the serious tone in your voice, he turns towards you too, also awkwardly in the fixed seat.

You huff at the uncomfortableness, not wanting this to be the place you finally say what’s been haunting you for nearly 2 years. Then you remember, you're dreaming.

With the realisation, your surroundings change to your wish.

You both are sitting down on your old couch in your house: the place where you had your first dream with Yoongi. 

He looks at you with the same concerned expression, either not noticing the surroundings changing around him or, as you logically reason, not caring because he is not real with an actual conscious.

"Are you okay?" Yoongi stares at you, worry painted on his face.

You feel tears fill in your eyes at the sight of him.

A sense of finality fills the air.

And with that, you inexplicably feel in your heart that this is the last time you will ever see Yoongi. The last time you will ever see the person you have shared the most precious and sacred conversations with. The last time you will ever see that man you love.

So, you try to savour the moment, savour him.

Your eyes trace every detail, every line, everything about him. The soft slope of his nose, his naturally pouty lips that seem to say everything right, his piercing yet soft eyes that look at you with so much care and adoration.

Care and adoration you made up in your head.

"I'm in love with you."

You breathe out a shaky breath. You curse yourself feeling so nervous at confessing to someone who only exists in your head.

"Please don't say anything," you plead when he opens his mouth, about to respond.

An unreadable expression embedded on his face nearly makes you stop to try and decipher him, but the need to keep confessing takes over.

"I'm in love with you, Yoongi," you repeat, "I love you, and I just wanted you to know. and I realise how ridiculous this is, confessing to someone who doesn't even know me, let alone love me back but I love you."

You stare at him as his eyebrows furrow in confusion with his chest heaving up and down, breathless from your words.

"You've been my comfort person and the more I think about it, the more I realise that I think I've made you up in my head to get me through it all. Through my endless job rejections, through my fights with my friends, my siblings. Even through the time my childhood cat died. You've given me so much advice and comfort and laughter with your ridiculous stories and thoughts. I love all the conversations we've had together and all the times we just sat in silence. I love how you aren't afraid to set me straight if I ever say something wrong. I love your passion when you talk about your music, your friends, the people you love. I love your outlook on life and people. And  I'm just so in love with you. And I don’t think any words can really get that across, Yoongi"

You raise your arm up to your face to wipe the tears off, chuckling at how good it feels to get this off your chest yet how painful this all is.

"And I want you to know I'm going to miss you. I don't care that you won't realise or that you might not even care that this all will end," you feel your heart break at the sudden thought, "Or maybe you will just cease to exist..."

You hiccup from all the tears, which blur your vision from the man in front of you.

"I just want to say I love you," you confess again, not caring how repetitive you sound.

You move to wipe your tears again, wanting one final look at the man you've grown to love the past years. You almost laugh at how speechless he looks.

"I'm gonna go now."

You move to stand up, heart heavy in your chest, about to take him out of your dream when you feel yourself stutter at the very real feeling of his hand around your wrist.

"Don't go, stop", the man chokes out, "I'm in love with you too."

You turn around to look at him, your heart disintegrating at the sight of his face, etched in confusion and pain.

Reminding yourself this is all in your head, you shake your head, trying to ignore the warm feeling spreading through your chest. When he sees your disbelief, he begins to stutter, unsure of what to say.

"I'm so in love with you," he repeats, "This is real, this whole time it has been real, I swear it has to be real, I'm real, so please don’t go, don't leave me. I need to see you again, you can't leave me."

You almost fall for it. 

In your head you know this is just you making this up, you want to protect yourself because you want Yoongi to love you back, you want for him to be real.

But he isn’t.

You sit back down to face him, who stares at you in agony, and you give him a bittersweet smile. You move to tightly hug him, and, to your surprise, you feel his body begin to feel hazier and more indistinct the longer you hold him. For once, you can describe what this hug feels like: now it just feels dream-like. You feel him instinctively move to hug you back, even tighter, as if he would disappear if he loosens his grip even just a tiny bit. 

You almost laugh at the feeling, because he will disappear, he always does.

You quickly let go and hold his head in your hands to see his face one last time. You feel his realistic smooth skin in your hands start to grow indefinite and the wetness from the stray tear that falls from his red eyes dissipate on your fingertips, regardless you move your thumbs to wipe them from his perfect face. 

You feel him slip away from you.

"Goodbye, Yoongi."

For the last time, you feel a pull to move his face towards yours, wanting to touch his lips you've been dreaming about for years. He looks down at your lips and moves towards you as well.

You both are so close to each other, you feel what is left of him: his cooling warmth, his vague skin, his muted breath against your lip. You close your eyes as you feel a wisp of his soft lips against yours.

Then, you wake up.

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You don't dream of Yoongi again.

You try not to think about it for the next 5 months, somewhat succeeding (turns out moving to a new country is surprisingly a good way to try to get over the mourning of your non-existing lover you made up in your head). You also avoid the fuck out of any mention of Yoongi, which is tragically harder as he has apparently released a single. But now you are used to instinctively scrolling past any mention of him on social media or taking the longer way to the store to avoid his face on the billboards adorned in the busy streets. You’re doing better.

You settle fine in your new job, you get by fine with your improving Korean, you remember to call your family to remind them you’re doing fine because you are. You’re doing just fine.

You tell yourself that again in the mirror of the venue’s bathroom, getting ready for the celebrity charity event that you and your team had planned. You feel nervous with it being your first big project you took part in since moving here and you feel even more nervous from potentially meeting any of the celebrities on the attendance list. 

You feel your heart race knowing that he was set to attend.

Truly, you've never thought that you would ever actually meet Yoongi in real life. At first, you were considering not going, the feeling of anxiousness tempting you to an apologetic sick call to your manager. But you talk yourself out of it, you don't necessarily need to meet or speak to Yoongi, or any of the celebrities for that matter. And besides, you hate to admit it, but dream-Yoongi always told you to try to not let fear stop you from living your life. So you decide to go.

In fact, you're kind of excited.

Tasked to make sure the ‘red’ carpet event runs smoothly, you stand behind the cameras with your clipboard and phone, ticking off who’s arriving, who’s been interviewed, who’s left to arrive. Your headset provides an appreciated distraction from your nerves, listening to the chaotic whispers on the radio. You hear one of your coworkers squeal in the mic and you stifle a laugh as she apologises about being unprofessional. But, you instantly go breathless, when she explains it is because a certain someone just arrived.

You feel your whole body warm with your heartbeat racing impossibly faster at the sight of him standing on the carpet, while everyone flashes their cameras desperately at the global celebrity. You become breathless again, he looks so familiar and so comforting. You can't help but pat yourself on the back for how accurately your brain portrayed him.

You feel your heart melt at how he looks quite nervous, eagerly looking around at everyone, you can tell from the way he clasps his hands tightly as he poses that he feels a bit on edge, yet a bit excited? Your mind goes to the one conversation you had where he mentioned even to this day events like this still make him nervous. Your mind then goes to remind yourself that the conversation wasn’t with real-Yoongi but with dream-Yoongi. And also that the conversation wasn't actually real.

Still, you can't help but block everyone and everything else out as you watch him make his way down the carpet. Posing for more pictures and answering questions that some interviewers are asking him.

You feel yourself make yourself smaller as he makes his way to the end of the carpet where you are, feeling the unnecessary need to hide from his potential gaze. Still, you listen to his interview with the interviewer.

"Hello, we have Yoongi here!" The interviewer says to the camera, "How are you today?"

You watch as he answers the questions with the very similar gait, mannerisms and patterns of speech as dream-Yoongi, you feel that comforting feeling again.

"So, how did you hear about this charity?"

"I actually first heard about this charity from a really dear friend of mine." you see Yoongi look down with a fond smile, "They honestly have the exact same beliefs and views as me so when they first told me about it so passionately, I knew it was something I care about too. And I do care about it, with the topic of mental health, I believe it is so important that we care about the younger generation."

"That's really sweet", the interviewer relatably swoons, "and we can't not talk about your new single! It is amazing! Can you talk a bit about it?"

"Thank you. Um, yeah it's been a song that I think has been kind of long overdue, overdue for years. Some people have told me it's very cheesy in its essence," he chuckles, scratching his neck bashfully, "It's written as a dedication to someone you really care about, someone who's changed your life, someone so good, you don't believe they're real, you know?"

"Yeah, no, I get that," she replies, blushing at his words, "The fans love the different new sound you use in the song. Very different from what we are used to and it’s beautiful to listen to. Feels almost… How do I describe it? Dream-like? I guess that’s why you use it, the idea of a person of your dreams? Is that what you were alluding to?”

Your breath hitches at the irony, you feel a small pang at your heart. You convince yourself out of the delusion, as he takes a bit longer to answer.

"Yeah I guess, the person of my dreams..." He pauses, and looks back up to give another smile, "That's exactly what it is."

As he finishes the interview, he glances over the room, trying to meet eyes with everyone. When his gaze sweeps in your direction, your heart races, bending down to pretend to tie your laces (you’re wearing heels). You feel a bit pathetic in admitting you don’t want him to meet your eyes and move on, solidifying that everything you experienced was, in fact, just a figure of your imaginations and dreams. When you straighten up, he’s completed his scan, his expression tinged with a hint of disappointment - maybe he lost his manager?

The night goes on and you’re thankful that you’re kept busy ensuring everything is running smoothly behind the scenes. Yet, he does linger in mind and your heart, making it hard to fully focus. When you complete your final task in seeing the catering company off, your manager tells you to enjoy the party, but you can’t. You could go in the main hall and meet new people but a tightness settles in your chest. You feel like you’re choking up.

You step outside to the balcony, the designated smoking area. You quit smoking after dream-Yoongi told you he was trying to stop, and you both agreed to quit together. So, you just look out into the distance, feeling a bittersweet pang. You breathe in and out in the patterns dream-Yoongi taught you, the memories wrapping around you like a warm, comforting hug. You curse him for being such an indelible part of your life.

As your breathing stabilises, you take in the Seoul city night lights. Dream-Yoongi was right: it’s a devastatingly beautiful city at night, a beauty you can’t help but compare to him.

You hear the door open and freeze at the familiar voice speaking on the phone. You feel your whole body freeze and tense, gripping on the balcony railing for support. He ends the call, speaking in his dialect, so you only recognise bits of the conversation - turns out dream-you understanding fluent Korean didn’t mean the real-you did too.

You feel the urge to hide, but you tell yourself it’s ridiculous: he doesn’t know who you are and you need to accept that. Instead, you decide this is a rare opportunity to say hi to him as a fan because you always have been one. You’ve always admired him. You remind yourself that this would probably be the first and the last time you would ever be in this situation, even if his unfamiliarity would completely wreck you.

Taking in one final deep breath, you turn to look at him and smile, a mix of nervousness and that tragic feeling of love coursing through you. He looks at you and freezes, eyes widening slightly. You tell yourself you’re deluding yourself in imagining the recognition on his face, especially as he nonchalantly puts a cigarette between his lips and reaches for a lighter. He probably just got a shock from seeing someone there.

However, he keeps staring at you, his eyes effortlessly tracing your features and your body with a curious intensity that is so familiar yet makes you feel self-conscious. You can tell he’s trying to suppress a smile at your star-stricken expression.

Okay, so real-Yoongi is a bit of an asshole.

As he is about to light the cigarette, you let out a scoff, almost calling him a liar for betraying the promise dream-Yoongi made about smoking. But you stop yourself, reminding yourself that wasn’t real.

His head tilts at your scoff, a hint of disbelief on his face that is accompanied by his beautiful, almost cocky smile.

"뭐?" he says, his voice curious and playful.

You raise your eyebrows at him in retort. Your heart can’t help but flutter at how attractive this man is, even though he's not as sweet as dream-Yoongi used to be. The longer you guys just stare at each other, you surprisingly feel more comfortable in the presence of this man you technically just met. You can’t help but feel that warmth and familiarity that soothes you. You don’t feel as nervous as you should be meeting Suga of BTS; to you, he feels like dream-Yoongi. 

So, you give him a smile back, butterflies invading your stomach

You know there’s a rumour that real Yoongi is supposedly fluent in English, but you hope he doesn’t understand you in this moment

"You said you were gonna quit with me," you say, referencing the cigarette, "You're a liar."

You’re not sure if you’re surprised when he laughs.

"So you are real then," Yoongi says in English, his eyes sparkling with disbelief.

You gasp as he puts the unlit cigarette behind his right ear. He laughs again, a warm, familiar and disarming sound that sends your heart into overdrive. He walks up to you, his breath coming a little faster, paralleling your own.

"Wait, what?" you question, your mind reeling with the implications of his words.

Your confusion deepens when he places his hands on either side of your face, his touch gentle yet firm. His intense eyes gaze over your features with what you now accept is recognition and familiarity. His gummy smile widens as he takes in the sight of you. You can't tell if the loud beating heart is yours or his (or both).

He pulls you in for a hug. It feels real, yet so familiar, like slipping into a cherished memory. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, bending down to rest his head in your neck. This time, you don't feel hazy, and for once, you don’t feel rushed. Instead, the world seems to slow down, comforting you both at this moment.

Then you hear him, his voice muffled in the crook of your neck, filled with wonder and relief.

"You're real."

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A/n: Thank you so much for reading! And please give me any feedback! This was based on an actual dream I had of Yoongi and, of course, Faye Webster’s song ('a dream with a baseball player') that reminded me of the dream. But I hope you enjoyed reading and feel free to check out my other work <3

[hearts4werka]

The Devil Herself

Summary: You’re the famous Ghostface killer in the town of Boston while your ex-bodyguard Christopher is also an FBI agent investigating your murders, you overhear his conversation with his mother about a set up date with another woman so you decide to pay the woman a little visit after the date… Genre: Horror, slasher, age gap (it’s not a big one), female killer, obsessive stalker, crime investigation, The FBI, arranged date Warnings: This fic contains darker themes that may trigger some readers like gore, kidnapping, acts of torture, illegal possession of various of dangerous weapons ( don’t do this irl ) obsessive female!character, cursing, murder, detaching-limbs. Read At Your Own Risk! authors note: this turned out wayyy longer than I expected it to. I started to write this last night still kinda shocked how I finished it in one day. I’m already writing pt.2 to Missing and need to finish that but here’s a long Chris fic for while you guys wait for it. There might be a pt.2 to this too but I have to see if y’all will want one. Hope you enjoy!

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

The Halloween season is right around the corner and I’ll have to do some work to set the atmosphere for the lovely town I’ve been slashing for couple of good years.

I am called ‘The Ghostface killer’ around this town, known mostly for the gruesome crime scenes I create which I’m proud to said in know for that, how I always manage to cover up any evidence that could lead to discovering my identity.

There’s been many before me, some were better some worse. Dating back almost centuries, I can say I’ve been through some stuff in the past. I don’t want to get into detail with it but let’s just say I’m on a revenge mission, murdering and torturing the people who’ve hurt me in the past.

But there’s a little problem flowing in my mind… my ex-bodyguard, Christopher.

He’s an FBI Agent, often a bodyguard or guarding something. The FBI are currently investigating ‘The Ghostface Killer Crimes’ how do I know? Oh it’s obviously because I stalked him, unfortunately I also found out some unpleasant things too.

His mother has set up him with another women for a date. And it’s fucking tonight.

I may have hacked into his chat logs as well and overheard him and his mother talking over the phone when I was just watching him on the cameras with sound recorders I’ve installed along with the cameras.

As much as I try to let go of him, when I manage get him out of my mind and focus on other things at hand he just latched onto my brain and messes with it, just coming back each time like a boomerang.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

I’m getting ready to discretely stalk Christopher’s date, dressing up normally but keeping my mask on me since I’ll be doing some dirty work today and I can’t get blood on my beautiful face, can I? But mostly to hide my real identity from her.

I walk into my closet, picking out a black corset along with some matching black jeans that make my body look amazing together with the corset, I want her to see something pleasant to look at before she will go out.

Adding the finishing touches such as jewelry, a black leather jacket draping it over my shoulders and black boots I glance over at the mirror of my bathroom and fix my hair. I almost feel like I’m getting ready for a date to which I chuckle internally at the fact I’m going out for a completely different reason. ( outfit here )

I grab my bag off the bathroom counter it was sitting on, walking over to a big black duffel bag dropped on my bed I pick out what weapons I would like to use today.

Picking the classic and iconic knife along with a small electric saw but also a gun for extra fun, I shove the gun into a hidden pocket in the leather jacket and drop the knife and saw in the bag of today’s choice.

Inside of the bag already resides my phone, a digital camera I take pictures of my beautifully gruesome crime scenes and of my victims for little pieces of memories.

After I’m done preparing, I make sure everything is in place and locked as I finally walk out of the house.

Time to start this little shitshow

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Im in my car, sitting in front of a fancy restaurant the date was planned at with my laptop sitting my lap, watching them through the restaurants cameras I’ve managed to hack into. People really need to make their security devises have a stronger protection because this was easier than I thought it would be.

My blood boils with jealousy as she reaches out with a napkin in her hand to wipe off a piece of the food they’re eating that got left on his upper lip. If she puts her hands on him again, I’ll cut the motherfuckers off and give them to him if he continues to allow it.

He’s very aware of having a person stalking him but he doesn’t know who it is even being an FBI agent he couldn’t simply figure out who it is, I grab my phone out of my bag and open the messages app. Typing out a simple text I send it over to him and watch him on the cameras for his reaction.

Me : Is someone running off with other women? Keep having her hands all over you and you’ll see what happens next.

Seeing him excuse himself to check the message on his phone I’ve sent, a look of horror and caution creeps into his features as he looks around nervously but he hides them with a tight smile from the woman that’s completely oblivious of what the message contained nor why he suddenly changed in demeanor.

For the rest of the night, he avoided her touch as much as he could but slip ups did occur. At the end of the date he cautiously walked her back to her car, I was parked not far away from her so I saw everything with my eyes. When they say their goodbyes she leans in and places a gentle kiss on his cheek before getting into her car and proceed to drive away.

He returns to his own car and just sits there lost in thought, the look on his face etched into his features, more evident now that he’s alone. After a few minutes he starts the car and drives away.

Now it’s time for the fun part to start.

I tracked the woman’s home address before they went on the date and found out all of the basic knowledge about her without unnecessarily digging too deep, putting her home address into the gps now it’s finally my time to drive off.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

After a while of driving I finally reach my destination and park in front of an old-money house thats a pretty good size for someone who lives alone. Looks like mommy and daddy’s wealth payed off for her.

I have a feeling she’ll be fun to torture.

I grab my bag with all of the supplies I need and get out of the car in one swift open of a door, walking around the car I face the trunk. Opening it I take out a cloth along with a small bottle of sedative.

Popping the cap off the bottle I pour some of it onto the cloth, glancing around the containments of my trunk if I won’t need anything else, grabbing my signature mask as the last item I need and slide it over my head now concealing my face.

With one efficient and swift move I close the trunk and finally head towards her house, time to do some breaking in now, put the bitch to sleep and drive her to my house. After I’m done with that I’ll have some good old fun with her.

Going through the back door that thankfully was left open behind I quietly enter the building, checking if anything besides me is lurking in the dark shadows covering her house and find nothing, no sign of any animals too to which I sigh in relief. I really hate killing peoples animals. ( don’t actually kill animals irl )

I slyly maneuver my way through the darkness and up the stairs, them creaking as if I’m in a horror movie. Getting up the creaky ass stairs I see light coming out of one of the rooms, assuming that’s where she’s currently located I decide to put more of the sedative on the cloth in my hand to make sure she doesn’t wake up during the ride back to my house.

Scanning the surrounding area I can’t help but wonder if she left the door unlocked, she does live alone so no one could technically get into her house and into the bathroom while she’s in there, right?

As I come closer to the bathroom my ears suddenly get assaulted by music coming out from the slightly opened bathroom door, she has shit taste in music.

Creeping up to the bathroom door I widen the open hole with my hand as quietly as possible to not draw any sudden unwanted attention to it.

I take a small peak inside and see the shadow of her figure through the shower curtains she’s concealed behind, thinking this is gonna be easier than I thought I slowly enter the room and make my way towards the shower.

Pulling open the curtain my eyes are met with my target being completely nude while water rains onto her naked body from the shower head secured to the wall in front of her.

Without giving her anytime for further reaction than the horror slowly spreading across her features I slap the cloth over her mouth to muffle her screams pouring out of her mouth.

When she falls asleep I get her out of the shower and put the clothes she left in the bathroom onto her body, tossing her over my shoulder again I carry her back to my car and drop her into the backseat.

I drive off from under her house and on the path back to my house.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

We arrive at my house and I check into the backseat to see if she’s woken up.

“Still knocked out.”

I exit the car and take her out of the backseat, tossing her over my shoulder again and carry her into my basement or how I like to call it ‘The secret layer of crime’

Walking down the stairs and underground I drop her from my shoulder and into a bloody wooden chair in the middle of my basement or torture chamber, tying her down to it with a thick rope that was sitting next to it on a small wooden stool so she doesn’t get away when she finally wakes up.

Next to the chair is a white plastic table with various torture weapons I usually can’t carry around with me, opening my bag I dump out the weapons I took with me earlier.

I wait for her to wake up because I need her to be fully conscious during the whole process, I’m gonna make this painful for her. Mentally and physically.

After a few minutes of waiting she finally regains her consciousness and looks at me with the same horror on her face as when I took her, she tried to scream but realizes her mouth is ceiled shut with a cloth taped to her mouth.

A sinister laugh rumbles in my throat at her desperate tries to pry her way free or scream for help, this basement is sound proof so no one will hear her even in the slightest mumble.

“Oh are you trying to escape? You poor little thing, how sad.” I say with mockery lacing my tone, my eyes settle down on the table full of weapons and her eyes follow right behind, her horror spreading further and becoming more evident.

She violently shakes to try and loosen the thick rope she’s secured with tightly to the chair, grabbing a knife off the table I walk over to her. My shoes creating echoing foot step sounds that bounce around the walls of the basement.

Leaning down and getting up close to her face I raise the knife to her jawline and slowly trace it, the cold blade leaving goosebumps behind its path.

Her eyes become glassy and tears roll down her cheeks, a smirk spreads across my face at the beautiful sight of her being scared.

“You know why you’re here?” I ask, knowing I won’t get a clear answer out of her, the cause of it being the cloth taped to her mouth.

Shaking her head negatively, meaning she’s saying no and I become amused by not having a lack of an answer from her as I expected. She’s really desperate to stay alive, how pathetic.

“Well you don’t have to know but let’s just say you might be loosing some limbs today, hm?”

Her eyes widen at my sudden statement as her horrified state intensifies along with her desperate tries to escape, the sight is complete gold or a rare find that can only be dug up deep in the cold mines.

I slide a small stool with some blood covering the surface of it and place it under one of her hands, extending my hand behind me onto the weapon table I grab the mini electric saw.

Without hesitation I flip it on and it starts up with a roar, bringing the circling saw blade to her wrist and saw right down which detaches her hand from her arm. Blood sprays out from her arm and onto my clothes and everything around it as I take the severed hand and place it onto the weapon table.

Grabbing the stool and putting it where her other hand is and copy the same procedure of detaching the hand as on the other.

When that’s done I put the new severed hand next to its sister on the weapon table along with the now blood-covered saw. She’ll die a slow, painful and torturous death after I’m done with her.

I hover my hand over the weapon table and select a weapon at random, I grab onto something long and sharp, knowing what it is already I grasp the leather handle of it and bring the blade to her neck, slicing it open but not enough to kill her yet.

Putting the weapon down back onto the weapon table I walk over to a chest and open it, taking out a small carboard box among different body bags, trash bags and gloves I’ve left in here because I was too lazy to throw it out.

I close the chest and place the box on top of it, walking back to the weapon table I grab the severed hands and then go back to the box and neatly place them inside.

Thinking of what to add to it I decide or grab my camera from my bag I dropped onto the ground after taking out the weapons I took with me earlier I take a picture of the tortured and slowly dying woman on the chair. Just a little memory for him to remember.

I take the Polaroid out of the camera and grab the knife off the table, stabbing into what’s left of her hand to draw some blood onto the blade of it and I write a small letter with it on the back of the Polaroid.

After I’m done with my little letter I return back to the box, closing it and ceiling it shut with some tape I had in my grasp.

Grabbing the box and the Polaroid I exit the basement and go into my car to give Chris a little surprise. By the time I exit the basement the sun is already coming up and starting to illuminate the world.

I drop the box next to me in the passenger seat along with the polaroid and drive off to his house. He should be awake by now since he usually wakes up when the sun comes up.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Arriving at my destiny under his house I take the box with the Polaroid and get out of my car, walking over to the front door of his house I place the box down onto the doormat that has ‘Welcome!’ written across it in black bold letters on a white background.

I neatly place the Polaroid on top of the the box that’s slowly leaking blood from one of the bottom corners and onto the white and black doormat, I ring his doorbell and walk back to my car to drive off from under his house before he saw me.

The note on the back of the Polaroid says is bloody letters.

‘Like running off with other women so much? Here’s a little surprise for you but I’ll say one thing. You are mine and no other woman is allowed to lay your hands on you. Ever again.’

- Your lovely Stalker

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[str4wkinzi]

NO LONGER YOUR OWN.

Sukuna x Reader. >:3 (Also i was giggling so hard at the bubbles summoning circle so i had to add it bite me) also this is suppperrrr long so teehee :3

Part 2 <3 Part 3

NSFW CONTENT! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

You were obsessed with the thought of summoning something. Spell book upon spell book that line your bookshelf, all were lousy flukes. None of them worked but you still had hope that you’d summon something one day.

You’d recently found out the dark web. They had all sorts of freaky shit on there like “eye of the blahblah” or “brain of the blahblahblah.” Whatever the fuck was on there it didn’t attract you. You were looking for one thing and one thing only.

After searching for a hour or two you come across an ad on the top of the screen. “RYOMEN.” You decide to click on it, its either another scarring video or a….

When you click the ad it takes you to a page that displays a thick book with the words on the ad imprinted on the cover. A book. Maybe not a spell book but its a book on the dark web so it probably is one. After.. hours of searching you found one.

I mean, at this point, fluke or not, you shouldn’t have hours of search to fail and you come back empty handed.

You don’t even read the description before ordering it. Even if it is a fluke its still worth a buy considering its only 5$.

You order it and close the page. Five dollars for the book and three days for it to come. Was hours of search, 70 viruses hacking your computer, and 200 trackers tracking your exact address worth it? Probably not. Do you care? Not really.

Three days after you ordered that book it arrived at your doorstep.

You pick the book up and take it inside, unwrapping it and taking it out of the box. You try ignore the red marks on the book which look and smell like blood..

The book looks exactly how it did in the ad.. except its burnt in some places and scraped on others. This actually looks.. somewhat real. Though, no matter how it looks theres only one thing that can prove this is real.

Candles and salt surrounding you, you know you’re ready. Though, you aren’t very excited. You can’t get your hopes up just incase it is fake.

You light your candles and open the book. You turn to a page, flip the book upside down and start reading. Half way through the page the words start… moving?

With the letters twisting on the page, it ends up spelling one thing..

‘SHUT UP.’

The words doubled, then tripled. The words start climbing out of the page as if they were alive, bouncing around you in a circle. You don’t even have time to see all the candles going out one by one before the book slams itself shut.

You try to open it again, it’s as if its been nailed shut. You try with all your might but it barely budges.

You go grab a knife from your kitchen and pry the book open. You open the book and flip through the pages but… nothings there. No words, no anything. Every single page has absolutely nothing.

A outline of a finger appears on the page you’re on. You put your finger perfectly in the outline. Nothing seems to happen. You try to take your finger off but you cant… You try and try but your finger wont move.

The whole page turns black. You then see a red hand. Not around you, no. Its coming from the page.. The red hand points at you.

It stays in a pointing position before grabbing your face and pulling you into the book. You’re trying to scream but you cant.

You soon fall into a pile of.. you open your eyes and you see a skull looking back at you. You crawl out of the pile screaming. Though it was a long fall, it actually didn’t hurt..?

You get up and start wondering around. You hear laughing from somewhere. You follow the sound and you see a figure on a chair. Thats of course, atop a pile of bones. A really huge pile of bones.

You go closer and you see…. Nothing. Its dark as fuck. But whatever it is.. its still laughing.

“I told you to shut up didn’t I?” the figure scolded.

“I’m giving you a chance. Don’t fuck it up.” He snaps his fingers and you’re out cold before you could utter a word in reply.

You wake up in your bed. You jump up and look around. Everything’s cleaned up, no candles, no salt, no words hopping around everywhere. Its as if last night.. never happened.

The book is still in its same place. Its almost menacing. What was that last night? Who was that last night? So many questions running through your mind make you dizzy. You fall back on your bed.

‘Did that thing have four arms?’ It was dark but you swear you saw two sets of arms, you just didn’t remember it until now.

You try to go on with your day but you just feel someone watching you. When theres no one around you feel theres something.

After you get home you contemplate trying the book again. Who was that? And what did he mean by ‘giving you a chance’?

Later that night you decide you’re trying the book again. You need answers. You set everything up again. The candles that look brand new, the salt that looks like it was never used. Did last night really happen?

With no time to dwell, you start reading again. The words start shifting, this time it spells something different.

‘I WARNED YOU.’

Bloodcurdling screams start echoing around you, making the room spin. You feel a drop of liquid hit your head. You look up and see.. blood. Blood dripping from the ceiling.

Youre too busy looking at the blood dropping to see the eight foot tall man standing in front of you. He starts chuckling and you almost break your neck to look where it came from.

“I gave you a chance to keep your life, mortal.” He says while grabbing your chin.

You’re unable to talk. What would you say to a four armed thing who just appeared in your room? Is this the guy from last night, it has to be.

He pulls your face closer to his, squishing your cheeks with his strong fingers.

“I should rip your face off right now.”

Upon hearing that you squirm away from his grasp and crawl back away from him.

“I could kill you right now.” He says, almost questioningly.

“But.. you are a cute little human. I’ll give you that much.” He adds.

He bends down, noses almost touching.

“I’ll make you a deal. If you give me your body, i’ll let you live.”

With so many things running through your mind you don’t even hear what the man said. Let alone come up with an answer.

“Hurry up, brat. Make me wait too long and ill kill you right here.” The scowls.

You snap out of your trance upon hearing those words.

Wait, what.

“Wait! Okayokayokayokay, whatever you want just don’t kill me!” You plead, you barely even hear what he wanted.

He picks you up with all four of his arms.

You look at all of his arms, tightly securing you feet in the air. He looks you in the eyes for a second before plopping you on the ground, on your knees.

He pulls his pants down just enough to expose his cock.

He sits down on your bed, manspreading.

All you can do is stare. He notices this and grabs the back of your head, forcing you down just enough to have your cheek against it.

Understanding what he wants, you try to put your mouth over the tip but its too big. You keep trying but it just wont fit. He notices your efforts and laughs.

He grabs the back of your head again, taking in a fist full of your hair. He positions your mouth over his cock and he forces you down. The noises and the tears in your eyes while you take his cock almost make it bigger.

He’s chuckling at your almost sorry display. You choking on a cock thats way to big for you is really a sight to see. Though, he can’t help the groans falling from his lips.

He lifts your head up as soon as he was about to cum. You’re trying to catch your breath but he interrupts you.

“Come.” He demands. You scramble to his side as he lays on your bed. He makes you sit right beside his head.

“Sit.” You know what he means. You take your pants off and hover over this face. He notices your hesitance and uses his second pair of arms to grab ahold of yours and hold you down.

You’re a moaning, whining mess. Made putty by the hands of.. whatever he is. You’d be embarrassed but his tongue. You can barely even think straight. The way his tongue squirms into your hole, coming back out only to lick at your clit.

You’re trying to squirm away, he doesn’t let you. With his arms holding you down you really can’t do anything but moan and grind on his face.

Though, you’re almost surprised when you feel two hands start playing with your chest. Forgetting the man has a whole other set of arms. You suddenly feel tongues swirling around your nipples.

The extra stimulation doesn’t help your case, you’re cumming in seconds.

Coming down from your high, he tells you to get on top of him. He knows you can barely stand you don’t have to tell him :3

You hover over him, all of him.

‘Will that thing fit?’

‘Its too big!’

Suddenly you feel his arms on your hips, pushing you down on his cock. You don’t even try to fight back, you can’t fight back.

The stretch is almost unbearable, tears prickling down your face. He notices this and grabs he back of your head, pulling you in just enough to lick away your tears.

After you’ve accommodated him he demands you to…

“Move.”

You put your hands on his torso and start grinding on his cock.

“You’re too slow.”

You’re flipped on your back, legs up. He’s pounding into your cunt like a wild animal.

He takes one of his hands and puts it over your clit, using his mouth-hand thing to suck on it.

With him pounding into your cunt, speed only ever getting faster, and his hand licking your clit, you cum fast.

One after another neither of you stop. He never stops fucking you and you never stop cumming. You would be screaming his name but you don’t even know it.

Wait.

You remember the books title through blurred images in your mind.

RYOMEN.

You remember the page you read.

RYOMEN… SUKUNA.

“Sukuna!” You moan, finally having something new to moan instead of sounding like a broken record.

He stops.

He looks down at you.

He uses his other hand to grab your lower face and lift it towards his as he cranes his face down.

He grins and retreats his face, letting go of yours as well.

“Say my name, pet.”

He starts slamming into you again with more vigor. You’re screaming by this time, you’ve cum so many times and you’re sensitive. He doesn’t care. Actually, that makes it better.

Ryomen Sukuna.

Ryomen Sukuna.

RYOMEN SUKUNA.

RYOMEN SUKUNA!

Really, its music to his ears. He knows he has you now.

After the umpteenth time of mutual cumming he pulls out. His cum flowing out of you looks so adorable.

He puts his hand on the top of your lower stomach. Suddenly, you feel a tingling sensation at that spot. You’re so fucked out you really don’t notice, or care.

Be leans down and whispers in your ear.

“You’re mine now, pet.”

You wake up on your bed, exactly how you were last night except cleaned up. No cum dripping out of your hole or anything. You even have clothes on.

You go to the bathroom and look at yourself. You would doubt last nights happenings but you can barely walk.

You feel something on your lower stomach.

You look down and you see.. a marking..?

You try to wipe it away but it stays.

You try to use water but it wont go away.

Him.

You remember the markings on his face. It reminds you of all of those markings into one. You don’t really have time to question anymore because you hear the bathroom door open.

Sukuna grabs your head and turns it to the mirror, him looking into your eyes through it.

“You’re no longer your own. You belong to me, pet.”

STR4WZ STICKY NOTE < YIPPPEEE this is finally done omg it took so long for NO reason (too busy adding to my 80 drafts) but ill definitely be posting more small stuff cuz its been a couple days ALSO!!! Thanks to my bbg @comicsann for giving me the idea of the uterus claim mark thing or whatever so wahoo anyways love you guys buebue 3